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Dale Trumbore
Dale Trumbore
Between Water and Air (SATB)
A piece about surfing, longing for another life, and embracing your own abilities.
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Between Water and Air
SATB, piano
“Between Water and Air” sets a poem by Barbara Crooker about watching a surfer on a brisk November day. The narrator longs for such grace and skill, “cutting in and out of the curl, shining in the light.” In this lush setting, the piano represents the ocean itself, and the singers’ voices coast along its swirling waves.
Composer’s Notes
This piece was commissioned and premiered by the USC Chamber Singers (Jo-Michael Scheibe, Conductor).
Barbara Crooker’s poem “Surfer Girl” speaks to the narrator’s reverence for a skill—in this case, surfing—that the narrator isn’t great at, and likely never will be. I can identify; I’ll probably never be a great surfer, despite living in Los Angeles for over a decade. I took a surfing lesson once and could barely stand up on my board. But there’s a genuine, poignant emotion here, too. The “yearning” that the narrator feels while watching a surfer in the waves is accompanied by a recognition of their own talent for writing. By the conclusion of this setting of the poem, we’re not bitter or jealous that we can’t surf; we’re basking in our own gifts, however we choose to express ourselves.
— Dale Trumbore
Text
I’m walking on the beach this brisk November morning,
the bleached sea grass bending in the wind, when there,
up ahead, in the pewter waves, I see a surfer in his wet suit,
sleek as a seal, cutting in and out of the curl, shining in the light.
This is where the longing starts, the yearning for another life, the one
where I’m lithe and long-limbed, tanned California gold,
short tousled hair full of sunshine. The life where I shoulder my board,
stride into the waves, dive under the breakers, and rise; my head shaking
off water like a golden retriever. I am waiting for that perfect wave to come,
so I can crouch up and catch it, my arms out like wings, slicing back
and forth in the froth, wind at my back, sea’s slick metal polished
before me. Nothing more important now than this balance between
water and air, the rhythm of in and out, staying ahead of the break,
choosing my line like I choose these words, writing my name
on water, writing my name on air.
— Barbara Crooker
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