Throughout history and across the world, cultures have looked to the stars for inspiration, beauty, prophecy, and information. Humanity has always had a connection to the stars. As industrialization and pollution have marred the planet and hidden the stars from so many eyes, how have we been separated from the awe of our ancestors? To have a hope of repairing this human bond with the cosmos, we must join together and make a concerted effort.
Trio: g obrycki, Fabricio Cavero Farfán, Tanner Pfeiffer
2025 N.E.O. Voice Festival Ensemble from Rules for Being Human
Vivo sin vivir en mí takes its name from a poem of the same name by St. Teresa of Ávila. In a somewhat macabre devotion, Teresa laments her continued living because she so desperately wants to be united with God in heaven. She describes with captivating imagery a divine prison of love within which God is held captive. The refrain at the end of each stanza is “Muero porque no muero”—I die because I do not die. This work takes Teresa’s devotion as a starting point and asks what would happen if such energy might be directed into the community and one another.
St. Teresa’s mysticism revolved around both asceticism and ecstasy. Vivo sin vivir en mí explores both the emptiness and humility of asceticism as well as the swells of ecstasy before settling into a vernacular dedication. The melody quoted in the middle of the work is “Idumea” from the sacred harp tradition.
Performed by C3LA and Synesthesia Sinfonietta | 2025
John Bergquist conductor
This song originally appears on The Ambassador, an album by Gabriel Kahane on which every track is named after a Los Angeles address. The Ambassador was a hotel famous for Hollywood celebrity hotspot status in the ‘20s and ‘30s, for its night club The Cocoanut Grove, and for being the site of the 1968 assassination of Robert F. Kennedy. This arrangement highlights the contrast between the hotel’s highs and lows and adds in some experimental elements characteristic of C3LA.
"Ambassador Hotel (3400 Wilshire Blvd)" by Gabriel Kahane, arr. Tanner Pfeiffer
Performed by C3LA | 2024
Richard An, conductor | Julie Hinton, soprano | Abigail Whitman, soprano
Anastasia Belleza Gastelum, soprano | Gabbi Coenen, soprano
Drew Corey, soprano | Aria Gittelson, alto | Rhiannon Lewis, alto
Ari Stultz, alto | Vera Lugo, alto | Alexandra Grabarchuk, alto
Daniel Leese, tenor | Evan Roberts, tenor | Jeff Greif, tenor
David Rentz, tenor | tenor | Will Reeder, baritone | TJ Sclafani, baritone
John Bergquist, bass | Tanner Pfeiffer, bass
This piece was inspired by non-binary actor Indya Moore’s statement that “We out here humanizing robots and dehumanizing trans folks.” They got me thinking about how in the discussion around AI and other technologies people (especially those at the margins) are de-centered, disregarded, and even sacrificed.
There are huge cultural, environmental, and social impacts around the energy consumption, resource depletion, labor exploitation, and bias reinforcement associated with AI. These are all human costs. Why are we worried about the hypothetical sentience of a human creation when we do not collectively act in accordance with an ethic of care toward humanity?
Knowing the terrors we inflict upon one another every day, I wondered what I might say to an artificial intelligence on the cusp of self-awareness. With the knowledge of how humanity treats itself, would any intelligence be interested in the risk of being lumped in with us? What does that say about us, our intelligence, and the nature of artifice?
Performed by the 2024 N.E.O. Voice Festival Ensemble
David Harris, conductor | g. obrycki, soloist | Sam Scheibe, soloist | Tanner Pfeiffer, soloist
A piece written in response to Sufjan Stevens (in general), but in particular to the release of his album Javelin and the accompanying dedication. Thank you, Sufjan.
Text: You didn't have to say it, Sufjan
We always knew
We loved you
Breath. Sibilance. Air. Space. Lungs. Life. Tone. Center. Overtone. Cavern. Carve. Home. Lift. Lean. Surge. Open. Echo. Feel. Connect. Mourn. Bless. Transmogrify. Ascend. Converge. Emerge. Billow. Invite. Awaken. Linger. Essence. Sanctify. Permeate.
Performed by C3LA | 2024
David Rentz, conductor
Strip the Willow
Strip the Willow takes its form from a Scottish dance of the same name. The playful swapping of partners is represented by the eight soloists (four singers and four instrumentalists in this performance). The various chord progressions used throughout the piece are also taken from traditional Scottish music. The chord progressions, form, and general guidelines are provided to the performers, but the actual notes played are entirely improvised.
Soloists: Travis Ciortan, voice | Tanner Pfeiffer, voice | Noah Schwartz, voice Nathan Turczan, voice | Eris DeJarnett, flugelhorn and trumpet
Daniel Lemer, flute | Tate Shoebridge, oboe | Nev Wendell, trumpet
Band: Alberto Cruz, clarinet | Darren Dvoracek, tuba | Björn Gustaffson, horn Juhad Kuri, percussion | Wells Leng, piano | John Pisaro, trombone
Michael Salas, bass clarinet | Armando Wood, bass
The Divine Dark
The Divine Dark is a piece for wind ensemble (or any group of at least four musicians) commissioned by Matt Smoot. It takes its inspiration from the writings of Christian mysticism author Evelyn Underhill; she describes a five-step process of becoming a mystic, the last step of which is Union with the Other. This piece illustrates that step with a demonstration of the necessity of giving back to the community as a part of Union.
“When love has carried us above all things into the Divine Dark, there we are transformed by the Eternal Word Who is the image of the Father; and as the air is penetrated by the sun, thus we receive in peace the Incomprehensible Light, enfolding us, and penetrating us.” —Evelyn Underhill
Matt Smoot, conductor
Voicemails from Braxton
Voicemails from Braxton was originally a sound installation. I kept all the voicemails my best friend Braxton sent me from 2013–2018 and paired them with field recordings and ambient music as well as a cozy space decorated with twinkle lights, chairs, and a rug.
The Voicemails from Braxton EP contains excerpts from the sound installation, presented as discrete tracks. Nostalgia, warmth, sadness, and connection feature in these fragments.
Certainty
A short clip from Certainty, a film by Candace Nelson I scored in 2017.