Agatha (2018)

Program Note

Some years ago, my wife took me to the church of St. Agatha in Rome. It is her favorite church in the world, and she wanted to share it with me. The church is in an area of the city with almost no tourist traffic. It is a beautiful, tranquil, and gentle place. That day we were the only people inside. After taking in its soft pastels (which were notably different from the darker hues more common in my experience with churches around the city) and the absolute quiet, I found my eyes surveying the upper reaches of the heretofore welcoming structure. To my amazement, I saw that the frieze along the ceiling denotes in pictures a horrifying tale of vindictiveness, power, and senseless violence. These shocking scenes were decidedly at odds with the overall experience of the church. There was something remarkable about this juxtaposition of serenity and cold, calculated chaos.

Relatively recently, my wife was diagnosed with breast cancer. She survived, but like many women was disfigured (both physically and psychologically) by the treatments. In a notable coincidence, Saint Agatha is the patron saint of breast cancer victims. The irony of my wife’s relationship to this church and her love of it, and her ensuing medical trials was not lost on us. After her diagnosis and the seemingly never-ending effects of the surgery, chemotherapy and medications, I found myself thinking often about that church and legend of Agatha.

Agatha is scored for three soloists (soprano, violin, clarinet) and string ensemble + bass clarinet, bassoon, and piano. The piece is approximately 26 minutes in duration. It is in 4 sections. The first three sections are quite short, and serve as a kind of prelude/overture to the fourth section which forms the body of the piece. The soprano, Agatha, sings and speaks across the entire work. While the solo violin and solo clarinet play their respective instruments throughout all four sections, in the fourth part both the violinist and clarinetist also take on the role of characters in the drama, speaking/acting with their voices in addition to the playing of their instruments. The violinist serves as narrator, and the clarinetist takes the role of Quintianus, the Roman prefect who lusted after Agatha but was rejected by her. He subjects Agatha to unthinkable brutalities for her spurning of his advances. Despite Quintianus’ cruelty, Agatha endures, standing as a symbol of strength and resistance in the face of persecution. The drama follows the telling of the legend as relayed in William Granger Ryan’s translation of Jacobus de Voragine’s The Golden Legend: Readings on the Saints, and the libretto closely correlates to that translation.

I have begun the work (section 1) with text fragments by the late British poet Christopher Middleton (1926-2015), whose words I often revisit.

— Michael Hersch