Listening in Deep Space | 15'
SSAATTBB a cappella chorus
Two examples of the "static" sounds woven throughout the piece:
The three movements of Listening in Deep Space ask us to consider community and what we owe to each other, both in our exploration of space and here on Earth. In the first movement, “Mapping the Unknown,” Diane Thiel’s poem notes the many ways we’ve made efforts to reach other life forms, then asks us to consider how we already treat those “at home.” If we can’t respect each other on Earth, she suggests, what can we expect if we do find other life forms? Stacy Gnall’s poem for the second movement, “Pantoum for Laika With No Return,” explores a dark moment in space exploration. In 1957, Russia sent a stray dog, Laika, into space, then lied for years about the dog’s painful death. Laika became the first living creature to orbit the Earth, and Gnall’s poem memorializes her in this tribute. In the final movement, Thiel’s text describes “our family album in the stars,” suggesting that perhaps our data transmissions—and maybe even our relationships— echo out in space.
Throughout the piece, static sounds weave in and out of the texture, offering a man-made intrusion and intentional distortion of the words being sung. Ultimately, the piece urges us to foster our community at home and to consider the repercussions of our actions, which may reverberate for years to come. Though Thiel’s question from the first movement—“What will do when we find each other?”—refers to the possibility of other life forms, it is just as vital to ask that question of ourselves here on Earth.
Listening in Deep Space was commissioned by the 18th Street Singers (Benjamin Olinsky, Artistic Director), in celebration of their 20th Anniversary Season.
1. LISTENING IN DEEP SPACE
We’ve always been out looking for answers,
telling stories about ourselves,
searching for connection, choosing
to send out Stravinsky and whale song
which, in translation, might very well be
our undoing instead of a welcome.
We launch satellites, probes, telescopes
unfolding like origami, navigating
geomagnetic storms, major disruptions.
Rovers with spirit and perseverance
mapping the unknown. We listen
through large arrays adjusted eagerly
to hear the news that we are not alone.
Considering the history at home,
in houses, across continents, oceans,
even in quests armed with good intentions,
what one seeker has done to another—
what will we do when we find each other?
—Diane Thiel
"Listening in Deep Space" from Questions from Outer Space, Red Hen Press. © 2022 by Diane Thiel. Reprinted by permission of the author.
2. PANTOUM FOR LAIKA WITH NO RETURN
Russian scientists reassured the public that Laika had been comfortable, if stressed, for much of her [week-long] flight, that she had died painlessly. . . . In 2002, forty-five years after the fact, [they] revealed that she had died, probably in agony, after only a few hours in orbit.
—Alex Wellerstein, “Remembering Laika, Space Dog and Soviet Hero”
Little dog, little star, little tooth bared and confused
for a grin, you burn through the sky like a bright white
lie. They said you felt nothing when you died.
How small did our love look from that height?
You burn through the sky like a bright white lie,
you little vital, you little dash and line. How small
did our love look from that height, how blue the truth?
The fear in your throat so bright it seared the night.
You little vital, you little dash and line. You little
groove on a loop gone ’round the moon—the truth?
The fear in your throat so bright we can still read
by it at night. You little tiger through a ring of fire.
Little groove on a loop gone ’round the moon,
what is Russian for here? What is Russian for home?
Little tooth bared and confused for a grin, I cannot
dance you, dream you down. Little tiger through
our ring of fire, I cannot take you back like their words.
—Stacy Gnall
"Pantoum for Laika with No Return" from Dogged. © 2022 University of Massachusetts Press.
ELEMENTAL TRAIL
Through thousands of light years, travel on,
making an album of the stars,
each image sent, already gone,
through thousands of light years—travel on,
recording the ancients, the long
elemental trail fused in ours
through thousands of light years, travel on,
our family album in the stars.
—Diane Thiel
"Elemental Trail" from Questions from Outer Space, Red Hen Press. © 2022 by Diane Thiel. Reprinted by permission of the author.
