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Timothy C. Takach
Timothy C. Takach Publications
Joseph
A quietly stunning exploration of Joseph’s thoughts at the birth of Jesus.
SATB a cappella
In a beautifully simple way, this piece explores the thoughts that might have occurred in Joseph’s mind at the birth of Jesus. This new poem is mysterious and thoughtful, and the music allows us space to ponder. Mostly homophonic, the challenges lie in the intriguing harmonies present, which unfold over the course of the piece as more voices join in.
Composer’s Notes
As I was thinking about writing a new Christmas piece (and thinking about having something new to say), I realized that one character in the story that is often overlooked is Joseph. I asked poet Michael Dennis Browne to think about what emotions Joseph might have been experiencing at that time. He’s about to assume the role of a father to a boy who is not his, and his simple life as a carpenter will never be the same.
Musically, the piece starts simply, in a minor exploration of the musical triad. It wanders a bit and feels a little ungrounded. His statements start on the offbeats, as if he hesitates. But as his thoughts turn to who this child is to become, the music shifts to major mode, and becomes warm and hopeful, as if his thoughts are enough to ground him. When he experiences his rebirth, he gains confidence and strength, and his statements start on the downbeats. Joseph has embraced the child and his role as a father.
– Timothy C. Takach (2016)
Text
“I was like a father holding you in my arms”
Book of Hosea
a starry sky is in my arms
I hear my breathing–now not only mine
each dawn is different now that you are here
sometimes I stare at you, sometimes I tremble
I stand above you, my head a moon
and you down there on the sweet straw
each dawn is different now that you are here
I hear my breathing, now not only mine
all my dreams for you, wondering
who you might be, how far you may have come
to be with us
each dawn is different now that you are here
sometimes I feel among waves too steep,
my boat too small
for these wide hands to have made
when I’ve been working, when the sun is low,
I sink into the stream and lie there, pale as stone
and still this burning that I feel
so deep inside me
how are you mine, child?
how are you ever mine?
I am like a father
I am like a father
so let the old Joseph die, the new be born
hold high this lantern for the world to see–
this child, this light, this saving one
a starry sky within my arms (O heart)
each dawn is different now that you are here
– Michael Dennis Browne
Used with permission.
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