Job by dowcarpenter

In this piece, I tried to address the ever-pertinent problem of human suffering, and how a belief in a God might be at all compatible in the face of such suffering. The Book of Job certainly asks these questions, and I felt it was incumbent upon me to bring new meaning to this text in my musical setting, so that it might have special resonance for listeners of my own time. The magnetic resonator piano, an invention by composer Andrew McPherson, provided me with timbres that could evoke a sense of the divine and enable me to create a distinctive musical work: electromagnets placed over the strings of a grand piano cause the strings to vibrate, producing a ghostly, other-worldly timbre, not unlike the sound of a soft pipe-organ or a bowed vibraphone. In this work, the baritone represents not only Job, but also an ordinary human being, asking whether God really does hear the voice of one who calls from the depths of suffering. The ending of the piece is deliberately left on an ambiguous note: Job is shattered by his experience, and realizes his insignificance in the presence of God, singing in Hebrew Job 8:9: “For we are but of yesterday, and know nothing, because our days upon earth are a shadow.” He concludes soberly, “Behold, the fear of the Lord: that is wisdom; and to depart from evil is understanding.”

Texts from Psalm 130 and the Book of Job.

Mima-ama-kim k’raticha adonöy. [Out of the depths I call to you, O Lord.]
Adonöy shim-öh v’koli, [My Lord, hearken to my voice:]
tih-yenah öz-nechöh ka-shuvot l’kol tacha-nunöy. [let your ears be attentive to the voice of my pleas.]
Im avonot tish-mör yöh, adonöy [If you were to preserve iniquities, my Lord,]
mi ya-amod. [who could stand?]

[Psalm 130:1–3, Hebrew Bible]

Remember, I beseech thee,
that thou hast made me as the clay;
and wilt thou bring me into dust again?
And where is now my hope?
As for my hope, who shall see it?
They shall go down to the bars of the pit,
when our rest together is in the dust.
For I know thou wilt bring me to death,
to the house appointed for all living.
I cry unto thee, and thou dost not hear me.
Mine eye poureth out tears to God.
When I waited for light, there came only darkness.
I went mourning without the sun.
I stood up, and cried in the congregation.
My harp also is turned to mourning, and my organ
into the voice of them that weep.

[Job 10:9; 17:15–16; 30:23, 20; 16:20; 30:26, 28, 31, King James Version]

Mima-ama-kim k’raticha adonöy. [Out of the depths I call to you, O Lord.]
Adonöy shim-öh v’koli, [My Lord, hearken to my voice:]
tih-yenah öz-nechöh ka-shuvot l’kol tacha-nunöy. [let your ears be attentive to the voice of my pleas.]

At this my heart trembleth,
and is moved out of its place.
Hear attentively the noise of his voice,
and the sound that goeth out of his mouth.
After it a voice roareth:
He thundereth with the voice of his excellency;
and he will not stay them when his voice is heard.
For he saith to the snow,
Be thou on the earth;
likewise to the small rain,
and to the great rain of his strength.
He sealeth up the hand of every man;
that all may know his work.
Out of the south cometh the whirlwind:
and cold out of the north.
By the breath of God frost is given:
and the breadth of the waters is strengthened.
He scattereth his bright cloud:
And it is turned round by his counsels,
That they may do whatsoever he commandeth them
upon the face of the earth.

[Job 37:1–2, 4, 6–7, 9–12]

Ki-temohl anahnu welo neda [For we are but of yesterday, and know nothing,]
ki sel yamenu ale-ares. [because our days upon earth are as a shadow.]

[Job 8:9]

Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom;
and to depart from evil is understanding.

[Job 28:28]

Lawrence Indik, baritone
Feifei Zhang, magnetic resonator piano;

Recorded live in concert
December 2011
Boyer College of Music, Temple University
Philadelphia, PA