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Joshua Shank
Joshua Shank (B&F Music)
Hiroshima: a Monday
A contemplation on the horrors of war.
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Songs for Seven Days
SATB, a cappella
“Hiroshima: a Monday” is the second movement of Joshua’s 7-movement choral song cycle, Songs for Seven Days, and uses a text which serves as a contemplation about the dropping of the atomic bomb on Hiroshima in 1945 (including the haunting phenomenon of the “Hiroshima shadows”).
Composer’s Notes
When Dr. Kevin Coker approached me about collaborating on a choral song cycle, we talked through many different themes that we felt might tie a set of pieces together. In a previous work, Color Madrigals, I had used the color wheel and texts by John Keats as a jumping-off point so, for this new cycle, we entertained various ways to do the same. The idea we hit upon that we thought might yield something interesting was a song cycle based around something entirely quotidian (literally): the days of the week. We sometimes see the week as a thing to make it through, but momentous events like the first atomic bomb being dropped on Hiroshima and man’s first steps on the surface of the moon happened, boringly enough, on a Monday. But more personal stories—falling in love, having a child, losing a parent—can also happen to us no matter what day of the week it is. Thus, Songs for Seven Days was born.
To that end, I searched for texts that mentioned each day of the week and came up with some beautifully diverse offerings. For the second movement, American poet Robert W. Ressler offered up a contemplation about the dropping of the atomic bomb on Hiroshima in 1945 (including the haunting phenomenon of the “Hiroshima shadows.”
Songs for Seven Days was commissioned by the Blue Valley Northwest High School Chamber Singers (Dr. Kevin Coker, conductor) for their performance at the 2014 Kansas Music Educators Convention.
-Joshua Shank
Text
The Earth was dropped
on a Monday
and a wound opened
Power betrayed slippery fingers
to let loose their stranglehold
to let fall a wailing ball.
Science possessed humanity
to split history, hearts, and homes
while we forget what it felt like
to be a child.
A peace, a paradise
that may never have existed
was lost; tossed
out the window of a plane
and what remains
are the delicate shadows
of flowers etched in white walls, and the
question.
-Robert W. Ressler (b. 1988)
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