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Generations
Linda Kachelmeier
Celebrates the strength and resilience of maternal relationships.
for SSAA a cappella choir
“Generations” celebrates the strength and resilience of maternal relationships. As a tree provides shelter to birds and other creatures, a loving mother is strong and nurturing. Set for treble voices, “Generations” represents the tree’s foundational roots with an ostinato pattern. Kachelmeier creates musical interest with changes in rhythm and meter as well as her signature crunchy harmony. A great undertaking for a treble chorus searching for art music with a profound message.
Linda Kachelmeier (b. 1965, Saint Paul, Minnesota, USA) is a composer, conductor, and professional singer with a special passion for choral music and art song for their capacity for conveying emotion through the human voice. Her music has been described as having “luscious counterpoint, deliberate dissonances, and assertive vocal interaction.” She has received numerous grants and commissions and in 2017 she was awarded the prestigious McKnight Fellowship for Composition. Linda’s music has been performed by professional ensembles such as VocalEssence and Cantus, as well as many school and church choirs across the United States and Europe. She is the founder and artistic director of the women’s vocal quartet LUMINA. Since 1991 she has been the Director of Music at First Presbyterian Church in South St. Paul. Her vast experience as a singer and conductor has helped make her a uniquely sensitive and gifted composer when writing for the voice, from children’s choirs to professional singers and all levels in between.
Text
My mother and your mother and their mother and our
mother and…
In the dim woods, one tree
With the rain’s masonry
Was by the cunning seasons builded fair
And delicate craft of air.
Unknown of anyone,
She was the wind’s green daughter. Her the dove
Made, between leaf and sun,
His murmuring house of love.
Quiet as a seemly thought
Her infinite strength of shade she stretched around.
Peace like a spell she wrought
On that enclosed ground.
Bred of such lowly stuff,–
Blown mist, a sheltering day, a tender night,–
Now stars seem kin enough
To company her height.
She knows not whence she grew.
So in my heart, from some forgotten seed,
The lovely thought of you
Towered to the lovelier need.
– Marjorie Pickthall
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