Shop for Music
About the Composer
Elizabeth Alexander
Elizabeth Alexander (Seafarer Press)
I’ll Tell You a Story, then… (high voice)
A mysterious scent leads to a discovery about being fully human.
-
I’ll Tell You a Story, then…
-
I’ll Tell You a Story, then…
-
A Love Like That: Songs of Unconditional Love
High voice, piano
In Nancy White’s compelling poem, “Just Once I Want to Write a Gentle Thing,” the search for an elusive scent leads to a new understanding of what it means to be fully human. This intimate setting of White’s poem, “I’ll Tell You a Story, then…”, brings tenderness, earthiness, and emotional depth to this pursuit — as well as to its surprising revelation.
“I’ll Tell You a Story, then…” is included in the collection “A Love Like That: Songs of Unconditional Love,” as well as the extended song cycle “Nature Creature.”
Composer’s Notes
Nancy White’s warm and earthy poem “Just Once I Want to Write a Gentle Thing” invites the reader to embrace every aspect of one’s being. Following the poet’s lead, I asked myself what each successive smell might sound like. This sensory exploration was what helped me find the visceral tenderness in Nancy’s dark, sweet, vulnerable, completely human poem.
“I’ll Tell You a Story, then…” was written and developed for vocalist Ruth MacKenzie. Traces of her passionate, fully embodied style made their way into the song, giving it more sensuality and freedom. I eventually expanded this song into “Nature Creature,” an extended vocal work that revels in the beauty and complexity of being alive.
About the poet: Nancy White is a poet and teacher living in upstate New York. Her first book, “Sun, Moon, Salt” (Washington Prize, The Word Works, 2002 & 2009) was followed by “Detour” (Tamrack, 2010) and “Ask Again Later” (Tiger Bark Press, 2017). After teaching for many years at Saint Ann’s School in Brooklyn and Bennington College, she now teaches at SUNY Adirondack. Since 2010 she has served as president and co-editor-in-chief at The Word Works in Washington, D.C.
-Elizabeth Alexander
Text
I’ll tell you a story, then,
of how as I was walking, I smelled something sugary,
elusive, spicy, you could call it,
and smoky in a sad sort of way. Also
like blossom barely born, pale and half-undone
to the wind that still might even be carrying snow.
this scent I decided to follow.
Sometimes I stumbled on the path, silver
with stones worn smooth as kindness,
or had to stop and rest among pines
where the smell settled a little, at home
with their religious and sensuous twang. Other times,
I moved fast, snatching at its mulchy sweet threads
through the air, the leaf and rotten-meat ribbons of scent,
rough tongues of tigers who have recently feasted, the living decay
of happiness, and saddle soap, the lemon urgency of sex,
honey of the air — where did it come from?
I rose panting up the slope, muscles strung on the searching
bow of my body, raised the back of my hand
to wipe away the sweat
salting my lips
and realized the smell —
the smell is me.
-Nancy White
© 1992 by Nancy White. From “Sun, Moon, Salt,” published by The Word Works
$7.00 per licensed PDF
Reviews
There are no reviews yet.