vocal music

Inside Us

for solo vocalist, choir, audio tracks, multiple video projections, 3 televisions, and turntable [45′].

X Inside Us

for solo vocalist, choir, audio tracks, multiple video projections, 3 televisions, and turntable [45′].


Commission:
Western Front with funds from the Canada Council for the Arts
Premiere: Laura Swankey with DB Boyko and the VOICE OVER mind Choir, February 8, 2018 at the Grand Luxe Hall, Western Front, Vancouver

Inside Us invites listeners into the acoustic poetry of the body’s interior. Vocal soundscape combines with diagnostic ultrasound recordings, giving voice to the rhythms of the circulatory and respiratory systems. Attentive listening dissolves notions of scale and place: from the constrained intensity of vessels leading to the brain to the cavernous resonance of blood as it washes from the liver back into the heart. Percolating through the immersive sounds of the installation, members of the VOICE OVER mind choir share moments of awareness of heartbeat or breath. Many of these recollections come from “the edges of life”.

Inside Us evolved during an artistic residency at Toronto’s Sunnybrook Research Institute. Through conversations with scientists and clinicians, I’ve begun to grasp the complexities and power of biomedical imaging. Riding my bicycle to and from the hospital, I started to see how physics and mathematics manifest in the everyday world around me. The video is a visual diary of parallel processes scavenged from my inner and outer journeys: fluid dynamics, breathing of trees, fluttering of moths, bubbles, drops and flows.

A custom-cut disc on the turntable features ultrasound Doppler recordings of arterial blood flow on Side A and venous flow on Side B and is the springboard for vocal improvisations by the soloist.

Ultrasound Doppler technology allows real-time imaging of blood flow at precise locations in the body. The audio output is not the sound of the heart beating, but rather the frequency shift as sound from a a transducer is directed towards the body, bounces off moving blood cells and then returns to the transducer. The resulting doppler shift conveys speed, pressure and direction. The development of this imaging method has gone hand in hand with advances in computing technology, allowing for higher resolution and greater precision. Meanwhile, bats, dolphins, porpoises and whales use bio-sonar to locate and catch their prey — their own bodies the site of technology humans still struggle to fully comprehend.

Artistic residency at Sunnybrook Research Institute funded by the Ontario Arts Council.
Ultrasound diagnostic recordings made with the assistance of: Paul Sheeran, Peter Burns and Caroline Maloney at Sunnybrook Research Institute.

Quarry

for soprano, choir, picc, alto fl, ob, 2 bass cl, 3 perc [23′] 2017.

X Quarry

for soprano, choir, picc, alto fl, ob, 2 bass cl, 3 perc [23′] 2017.

Commissioned by Continuum with funds from the Ontario Arts Council
Premiere: June 3, 2017 at Evergreen Brick Works, as part of FOUR LANDS, co-produced by Continuum Contemporary Music & Jumblies Theatre

“Everything stays the same,
Everything is yet to be discovered.”

Quarry excavates layers of memory and place through song and sound. The lyrics intertwine words from community members across Canada into a dreamscape that hovers between the present, the past and the future. What do we discover if we dig deep — beneath the ground where we stand, back into the bedrock of time, below the tangle of our everyday thoughts?

Vermillion Songs

Tenor with piano trio [ 15′] 2016.

X Vermillion Songs

Tenor with piano trio [ 15′] 2016.
Composed for Simon O’Neill and NZTrio with funds from CreativeNZ

The American Emily Dickinson (1830-1886) is regarded as one of the foremost poets of all time. Although her modern sensibility meant that little of her work was published during her lifetime, her poetry is now arguably the most frequently set by contemporary composers. Vital, vivid and pithy, Dickinson’s work is both immediately appealing and rewarding upon repeated listening.
Running through Dickinson’s work is a concern with the workings of the body itself. Her poems offer a compelling inner perspective on the breath, the circulation of the blood, varieties of pain, and the last moments of life itself. While human-scaled and engaged with the viscerality of the everyday, her work simultaneously conjures the epic and the immense — cosmic rhythms and the ineffability of consciousness.

This new work brings together six of Dickinson’s poems in sequence: from an acknowledgement of the insights of science, through contemplation of pain, disorientation, a return to consciousness, acceptance of the fragility of existence, to a final song of death.

In composing Vermillion Songs, I draw upon research at Toronto’s Sunnybrook Health Sciences Centre by medical biophysicist Dr. Peter Burns. The soundscapes of the inner body, captured by ultrasound, are both precise and evocative: from the constrained intensity of vessels leading to the brain, to the cavernous resonance as blood washes back into the heart from the liver. In bringing together the operatic voice, Dickinson’s evocative lyrics, the sonic possibilities of piano trio and the high-tech soundscapes documented by bioacoustics, I hope to offer listeners a fresh glimpse into the poetry of the human body.

Libretto

THE MAN WHO MARRIED HIMSELF.

X Libretto

THE MAN WHO MARRIED HIMSELF.

Libretto by Anna Chatterton

Commissioned by Toronto Masque Theatre with funds from The Toronto Arts Council, The Canada Council for the Arts & The Ontario Arts Council

Final Version: January 2017

Inspired by the Karnataka folktale, The Prince Who Married His Own Left Side (A Flowering Tree, ed. A.K. Ramanujan)

 

Characters

The Prince — counter-tenor

The Newborn Woman — Carnatic/jazz vocalist

The Lover — improvising jazz vocalist

 

The Story

PRINCE: The admired, pursued and proud Prince says:

Married people want everyone settled.

Nudge and nose me towards a wife.

But you can’t control a woman

Can’t keep them in line

So, this and only this is how I will marry:

PRINCE AND NEWBORN WOMAN: Split my body in two

Bury my left half in flowers

Blood and bone in earth

Will birth a woman

 

Dance of the NEWBORN WOMAN being born.

 

PRINCE: The Prince looks at his Newborn Wife and coos:

She’s perfect, such beauty

Same bright eyes, locks like mine that curl like shells

She has my round cheeks, satin neck,

rosebud lips, jasmine teeth

Same bright eyes, locks like mine that curl like shells

She has my round cheeks, satin neck,

rosebud lips, jasmine teeth

Young mango leaf wife

When I look into your petal eyes, I am home.

NEWBORN WOMAN:

eyes curl

eyes neck

lips teeth teeth!

eyes!

 

NEWBORN WOMAN: Eyes like you,

Teeth like you,

You, you, you!

 

PRINCE: The Prince says to his pretty wife, so pink and sweet:

Oh my pretty wife, you are my soft sugar, my pink, my sweet.

Let’s curl up in your penthouse suite

I bought it just for you. High in the sky, a view of the world

Yet safe and serene.

 

NEWBORN WOMAN

Soft? Sweet? Safe? Sweet? Soft? Sweet? Safe?

I want to fight,

Bite this town to the core,

Bite and fight this town to the core.

 

PRINCE: The Prince pastes on a smile, breathes deep, then says:

Impossible. Too polluted, seedy.

You who grew from flowers — my hidden half

Fragrant skin, petal eyes, sweet breath,

You would be plucked and trashed

Your rosy glow tarnished.

You must be protected

Twenty-four hour security to guard my sweetest self

Wall to wall windows and plush carpets

Where you can rest and bloom.

(He puts an ankle bracelet on her)

A bracelet for your lovely ankle —

Wear it and dream of me.

The PRINCE leaves.

 

NEWBORN WOMAN: What the newborn woman says:

Blast it.

This is just as lonesome and cramped as before.

My elbows in the cupboards

Toes curbed and cornered

Ceiling crowning my head

Nose pressed to the window

Eyes click, blink, scratch the glass,

Other half where oh where is my other half?

A lion is a lion be it female or male.

A lion is a lion is a lion is a lion…

A lion, a lion.

Who is that?

 

LOVER looking up at NEWBORN WOMAN, who is looking down at him.

 

LOVER: My heart is caught in her dark eyes

Black as laurel branches

Hair flowing as honey

How many floors, how many windows between us

And our arms’ embrace?

NEWBORN WOMAN: Moonlight man

I thought I was made for another, but

I want to lay garlands on your chest

Climb the tiger claw trees

And find my tiny flower heart

Beating for you.

 

LOVER & NEWBORN WOMAN: So the Lover sends an Old Woman

With a garland of blue flowers.

NEWBORN WOMAN: What does the Newborn Woman do?

LOVER & NEWBORN WOMAN: Smack! Cloud of vermilion on the Old Woman’s cheek.

LOVER: The Old Woman weeps, tears on her vermillion cheek.

I tell her: it is nothing.

The Newborn Woman’s slap says wait, for she is stained with red blood.

NEWBORN WOMAN: She is stained with red blood.

NEWBORN WOMAN & LOVER: The Lover sends the Old Woman back with a second garland

What does the Newborn Woman do?:

Slap! White lime hands upon her breasts.

LOVER: The Old Woman weeps, tears on her white cheek.

The Lover says: Shush your sobs.

Don’t worry. She is telling me it’s full-moon time.

NEWBORN WOMAN: full-moon time.

NEWBORN WOMAN & LOVER: So the Lover sends the Old Woman back with a third garland.

LOVER: What does the Newborn Woman do?:

NEWBORN WOMAN: Whack! Black ink hands upon her ass.

LOVER: The Lover comforts the Old Woman. He says:

Wipe your tears and read these signs right.

She is telling me to visit on a dark new-moon night.

NEWBORN WOMAN: dark new-moon night.

 

The LOVER and the NEWBORN WOMAN meet.

 

LOVER & NEWBORN WOMAN: Black ink night

Black soil, black earth

New moon kiss

 

NEWBORN WOMAN: What the Newborn Woman says to her lover:

Disguise yourself my love

Steal my nights and days

Snake into my pockets

Snake, snake, curl into my curves.

LOVER: I will slither up the drainpipes,

Slip into your arms

Snake into your pockets

Snake, snake, coil into your curves.

 

LOVER & WOMAN: Snake, snake….

 

PRINCE: Snake, snake!

Guard! Guard! Attack!

Lasso it, trap it, Snap its neck.

The brave Prince says to his wife:

I saw a snake sneaking into your sacred space

So I swiftly slayed it and hurled the remains in the streets.

What my wife says:

DEAD LOVER: What the dead lover says:

 

DEAD LOVER & NEWBORN WOMAN: Ayyo, ayyo, ayyo! Dark dark day.

NEWBORN WOMAN: Tremble, shudder, shake, quake

Almost, could have, so close- can’t-

Oh I can’t, oh I can’t, oh I can’t…

 

PRINCE: What the Prince says:

Scaredy cat!

You are beating your breast blue.

Do not worry — the snake is dead, gray, still, cold.

DEAD LOVER: Alone, alone, dead, gray, still, cold.

 

DEAD LOVER: Dead, gray, cold, dead, gray, cold, (continues)

NEWBORN WOMAN: Ayyo, ayyo, ayyo!

Why eat when he cannot taste?

Why sleep if he will never wake?

Rain on my cheeks,

Drown me to my death.

The Newborn Woman says to the concierge:

Find my lover’s body and I will pay you one.

Burn him into powder proper and I will pay you two.

Place him in a talisman and I will pay you three.

I will wear him always on my breast.

 

Dance of the NEWBORN WOMAN with her LOVER’s ashes.

 

CHORUS: The Prince is back, the Prince is back….

PRINCE: The Prince is back, lines snaking across his moon-like brow,

Heart thudding in his strong chest.

He says to his young wife:

Why are you thinner than the steel wires that stretch across the sky?

Why are you paler than ash?

I command you to speak,

I command you to…

Sit on my lap and whisper in my ear.

 

DEAD LOVER, WOMAN & PRINCE: This is what she says:

 

NEWBORN WOMAN & DEAD LOVER: What else can I/she do?

 

NEWBORN WOMAN: You keep me here,

Here in the clouds,

Only visiting on full moon or new moon days.

 

NEWBORN WOMAN & DEAD LOVER: How can my/her heart be strong? How?

 

PRINCE: The Prince’s heart is galloping,

He feels too hot, then too chilled,

He swallows the lump in his throat,

Grips her too tight and cries:

Then I’ll stay here, 

My eyes holding yours

As sun fades into moon.

My breath, your breath.

Locked in my arms while you sleep. 

I will watch over all your dreams.  

 

NEWBORN WOMAN: The Newborn Woman cannot breathe,

She shakes free from the crush of his embrace and gasps:

I’ll tell you a riddle, I’ll tell you a riddle.

If you answer, I’ll fling myself out the window.

If you cannot answer, you must hurl yourself out the window.

Either agree or let’s quit.

 

WOMAN & DEAD LOVER: This is what the crazy prince says:

 

PRINCE: Agreed, agreed, agreed.

 

DEAD LOVER: Now here comes the riddle, the riddle.

This is what the Newborn Woman says:

 

WOMAN: One for seeing,

Two for powder,

Three for wearing it round my neck.

A husband on the thigh,

A lover on my breast.

A husband on the thigh,

A lover on my breast.

Tell me what it means,

Tell me what it means.

 

WOMAN & DEAD LOVER: This is what the crazy prince says:

 

PRINCE: What? Woe!

Oh no, oh no, oh no…

Maybe maybe but but but how?

Wait wait wait wait

No! No no no no no

Damn woman!

Why must everything be so?

Why?

Oh before, before you everything was so simple

Now now now so complex

Curses!

Blast it bombast it, blast it bombast it, blast it bombast it!

 

NEWBORN WOMAN & DEAD LOVER: Moon rises, moon fades,

Sun rises, sun lowers,

Moon rises, moon fades…

PRINCE: This is- this is- splutter- utter utter

Curse- groan- roar- tear- groan- roar-

This is why I never wanted to marry-

Even you- even me- even you- even me-

You and me and you and me and me and you

Ha ha ha ha ha ha

I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know!

 

NEWBORN WOMAN & PRINCE & DEAD LOVER: The spent prince teeters, hedges,

Edges towards the brink,

Then dives, plunges, tumbles, soars,

Arms bent, reaching up,

Crooked legs,

Twist, turn, twist, turn, twist, turn…

 

THE PRINCE falls to his death.

 

NEWBORN WOMAN (watches him fall then sees a lover-to-be): Who is that?

 

DEAD LOVER & PRINCE: The Newborn Woman spots another lover.

And another lover and another lover…

WOMAN: Black ink night,

New moon kiss, waxing crescent kiss,

First quarter kiss, waxing gibbous kiss,

Full moon kiss,

Waning gibbous kiss, third quarter kiss, waning crescent kiss…

Burble

Solo mezzo with mixed chorus [15’] 2015.

X Burble

Solo mezzo with mixed chorus [15’] 2015.
Premiere:
 Laura Swankey & The Burble Choir with conductor Christine Duncan, Singing River, Pan Am Path, Lower Don Trail, Toronto, July 4-5, 2015.
Text: Anna Chatterton

Burble gives voice to the Wonscotonach/Don River, one of Canada’s most polluted rivers.

My curves are straight

My mouth is a drain

Spewing grease and trash

Cars roar and ignore me

I am deaf from the din…

Dreaming of Trees

Mixed voices [12’] 2015.

X Dreaming of Trees

Mixed voices [12’] 2015.

Premiere: Alex Samaras & GREX, Singing River, Pan Am Path, Lower Don Trail, Toronto, July 5, 2015.
Text: Nicholas Power

 

 

walking at night in the woods

between my childhood home and the river

fully awake and wondering

in a dream both strange and familiar

particular trees reach out like lovers…

Stone’s Secret

SATB [4’] 2015.

X Stone’s Secret

SATB [4’] 2015.
Commissioner:
Victoria College, University of Toronto
Premiere: The choirs of Victoria and Emmanuel Colleges, Isabel Bader Theatre, Toronto, October 14, 2015.
Text: Margaret Avison (excerpted from Stone’s Secret, Sunblue, Lancelot Press, 1978)

stones

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Otter-smooth boulder

lies under rolling

black river-water

stilled among frozen

hills and the still unbreathed

blizzards aloft;

silently, icily, is probed

stone’s secret.

 

Word has arrived that

peace will brim up, will come

like a river and the

glory…like a flowing stream.”

So.

Some of all people will

wondering wait

until this very stone

utters.

 

Todas Las Tardes

mezzo-soprano & piano [2’] 2015.

X Todas Las Tardes

mezzo-soprano & piano [2’] 2015.

Commissioner:
 Soundstreams Canada
Premiere: Krisztina Szabo & Stephanie Chua, The Gardiner Museum, Toronto, September 18, 2015.
Text: Federico Garcia Lorca

Program note:

How to set a portion of the Ghazal for a Dead Child by Garcia Lorca without hearing echoes of George Crumb’s version? I purposefully didn’t refresh my memory of this vocal classic, focussing instead on the first stanza of the poem, interpreting it as a quietly obsessive rumination on loss. The singer and pianist are both called upon to step outside their comfort zone through body percussion and vocalization. In response to the lyrical devastation of the poem, I chose to work with numerical patterns based on syllabic and visual structures of the text. The result is an emotionally restrained, simple, stripped down setting.

 

Solid Gold

soprano + 1 1 1 1 / 1 1 1 / pf perc / str [15′] 2013.

X Solid Gold

soprano + 1 1 1 1 / 1 1 1 / pf perc / str [15′] 2013.

Commissioner: Orchestra Wellington
Funder: Creative New Zealand
Premiere: soprano Madeleine Pierard with Orchestra Wellington and conductor Marc Taddei, The Opera House, Wellington, September 8, 2013.
Program note:

Solid Gold riffs on mainstream culture’s obsession with the Number One Hit. Challenging the straitjacket of copyright law, I take as my starting point the titles of over 30 years of number one pop songs. Cracking open this shared archive of pop memory, I hope to unearth the heart of the love song. Collaging selected titles into new and original lyrics, my creative quest echoes the sentiment of British-American band Foreigner’s 1984 hit “I want to to know what love is”. In this maelstrom of romantic yearning, what does love mean? And who exactly is the singer? Is (s)he “Venus, Jezebel, Lady Madonna — Lola, Nikita, Sylvia’s Mother”? Or is gender itself in question? Fernando? Pinnochio? Nelson Mandela?

Dopey and The Moon

children’s chorus SATB [8′] 2010.

X Dopey and The Moon

children’s chorus SATB [8′] 2010.

Commissioner: Viva Youth Singers
Funder: Viva Youth Singers
Premiere:  Viva Youth Singers, Trinity-St.Pauls, Toronto, May 16, 2010.
Text: Dennis Lee

Program note:

These two songs for children’s chorus draw on the beloved Canadian poet Dennis Lee’s works for children — Garbage Delight — and adults — Yesno, creating a world which acknowledges distance and pessimism, but also hope and possibility.

The Moon (from Garbage Delight, 1977)

“I see the moon and the moon sees me

And nobody sees as secretly…”

 

Dopey (from Yesno, 2007)

“…mind to the

grindstone, ear to the plough.

 

Hi-

Hoein along with a song:

What home but here?  Whose grubby hands but ours?”

The Province of Impossible

three singers playing theremin, hand-held percussion, shamisen and clarinet [35′] 2007.

X The Province of Impossible

three singers playing theremin, hand-held percussion, shamisen and clarinet [35′] 2007.

Premiere: Christine Duncan, Aki Takahashi and Juliet Palmer, Voice++ Festival, Victoria, May 12, 2007.
Credits: music Juliet Palmer in collaboration with the performers (Christine Duncan and Aki Takahashi), text Anna Chatterton with additional lyrics in German (Wilhelm Müller) and Japanese (traditional).

Program note:

The Province of Impossible bridges the two worlds of Japanese folksong and Schubert’s Die Winterreise.

The first piano arrived in Japan in 1823, four years before Schubert composed his famous song cycle Die Winterreise (The Winter’s Journey).  Western classical music took firm root following the forcible end to Japan’s isolation during the Meiji Restoration.  Now Yamaha pianos glut the market and Kent Nagano directs the Montréal Symphony Orchestra.  Alongside this Western music invasion, Japanese folk music has stubbornly held fast. This new song cycle finds fresh ground in two powerful yet disparate traditions.

So Long

soprano and chamber orchestra [5′] 2005.

X So Long

soprano and chamber orchestra [5′] 2005.

Commissioner: Open Ears Festival
Funder: The Laidlaw Foundation
Premiere: Patricia O’Callaghan and the Canadian Chamber Ensemble with conductor Dan Warren, Open Ears Festival, Kitchener, April 29, 2005.
Text: Leonard Cohen

Program note:
Both So Long, Marianne and I were born in 1967. Leonard Cohen’s song lodged itself in my brain at an undetermined point somewhere between that first release and the present. The moment that stuck in my mind most clearly was when the back-up singers wiggled their way upwards in the chorus on “Marianne” (a moment which fails to reappear in my own version of the song). Now Marianne’s name has gone, and I hope I have found a way to make the song new. I don’t remember ever hearing the words to the verse I’ve set, but I can imagine Trisha on a window ledge, miles above the traffic, stuttering a song of goodbye. So long. 

gone

unaccompanied chorus SSAATTBB [5′] 2005.

X gone

unaccompanied chorus SSAATTBB [5′] 2005.

Commissioner: Soundstreams Canada
Premiere: Tafelmusik, Soundstreams Canada’s New Voices Choral Workshop, Trinity-St. Pauls, Toronto, January 22, 2005.
Text: Dennis Lee
Program note:

gone is based on one of the fifty-one poems which make up Dennis Lee’s UN (Anansi Press, 2003).

 

Over the Japanese Sea

chamber opera for 2 baritones, bcl, perc, acc + vc [14′] 2003.

X Over the Japanese Sea

chamber opera for 2 baritones, bcl, perc, acc + vc [14′] 2003.

Commissioner: Tapestry New Opera
Funder: Ontario Arts Council
Premiere: Tapestry New Opera with baritones Gregory Dahl & Ian Funk, Tapestry Gala Opening, The Distillery, Toronto, May 24, 2003.
Text: Julie Salverson

Program note:

Ordinary people who carry extraordinary events: Maurice (an office cleaner) and Thomas (an office intern). A normal day. The past is past.

 

Room

mezzo-soprano, clarinet & hurdy-gurdy [8’] 1999.

X Room

mezzo-soprano, clarinet & hurdy-gurdy [8’] 1999.

Commissioner: Bill James and Art in Open Spaces
Funder: The Laidlaw Foundation
Premiere: Vilma Vitols, Juliet Palmer & Martin Arnold, Water Sources 2, Art in Open Spaces, Toronto, July 23, 1999.
Note: music choreographed by Bill James for Shannon Cooney, Dancemakers, Toronto, Canada, November 16-20, 1999.
Program note:

When I dropped by in the springtime, there was a futon in the sphere. Someone had moved in and made it their bedroom. Vilma’s song is inspired by the Beach Boys’ classic tune, ‘In My Room’, along with a little snippet of Schubert’s ‘The Hurdy-Gurdy Man’ (from Die Winterreise).

‘In my room

No-one sees me, no-one hears me…

Now it’s dark and I’m alone

But I won’t be afraid.’

W is for

2 sopranos, clarinet, trumpet, drum set, keyboard, violin & double bass [9’] 1997, revised 1999.

X W is for

2 sopranos, clarinet, trumpet, drum set, keyboard, violin & double bass [9’] 1997, revised 1999.

Commissioner: Dogs of Desire, Albany Symphony Orchestra
Funder: Albany Symphony Orchestra
Premiere (revised version): Marty Elliott & Susan Lewis sopranos, Michael Lowenstern clarinet, Charles Lazerus trumpet, Danny Tunick drumset, Elizabeth di Felice keyboard, Andrea Schultz violin Maureen Llort double bass, Steve Mackey conductor, Taplin Auditorium, Princeton, October 20, 1999.
Program note:

Living in New York, looking wistfully back to my 1970s New Zealand childhood, my curiosity was sparked as to the origins of Maori action songs — a hybrid form combining traditional movements, borrowed Western melodies and Maori lyrics. Introduced into schools by an enthusiastic physical education specialist in the late 1940’s along with Maori children’s games, it was noted that they were ‘exceedingly good for the body of the pakeha’ (non-Maori). In the 1980s, language nests or kohanga reo further boosted the revival of Maori.

W is for is my response to those early years spent dancing and singing in Maori. The text is an excerpt from a Maori-English dictionary. It begins at waka (canoe) and passes through wakainga (true home, far distant home) and warawara (yearning), arriving finally at wareware — forget, forgotten, forgetful. In a nod to my second language as a new Canadian, the final line comes from Jacques Brel’s ballad ‘On n’oublie rien’ — you forget nothing.

bone-flower

soprano, bass clarinet, viola, accordion and percussion [7’] 1995.

X bone-flower

soprano, bass clarinet, viola, accordion and percussion [7’] 1995.

Premiere: Dana Hanchard soprano, Michael Lowenstern bass clarinet, Mark Zaki viola, Guy Klucevsek accordion, and Danny Tunick percussion. Richardson Auditorium, Princeton, March 1996.

“The systems they learn are nothing but skeletons to them…”
—John Ruskin, Arrows of the Chace (1880)

Ruskin’s words suggest that rigorous formulae, valuable as a starting point, may be overwhelmed by the vigor of life itself.

bone-flower takes its name from a dialect word for daisy, a humble bright flower growing on the bones of the dead.

Soon we’ll all be pushing up the daisies.