{"product_id":"orchestra-and-voice-the-visitor","title":"Orchestra and Solo Voice: The Visitor","description":"\u003cp\u003eEnsemble: solo voice and orchestra (full orchestration below)\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eDuration: 17 minutes\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eCommissioned by: The Saint Paul Chamber Orchestra and Liquid Music with generous support from Tim and Calli Sullivan, Dr. Tom von Sternberg and Eve Parker\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003ePremiere: Ordway Concert Hall, Saint Paul, Minnesota\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eNote: \u003cmeta charset=\"utf-8\"\u003e\u003cmeta charset=\"utf-8\"\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eComposing a piece is a structural endeavor, like how I imagine an architect thinks about building a house. When I’m writing, I’m constantly weighing both small and large considerations: Where should that light switch go? From which angle will the sun come through the window? Is the structure sound, or if I remove this pillar will it collapse? Will it be pleasant to live in this space? Get enough of the small decisions right, and the big ones tend to follow.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eWriting a song, on the other hand, feels like inviting someone into your home. It’s a more intimate affair, and the listener knows generally what to expect: a drink, perhaps a snack, a comfortable place to sit. What makes a song successful, from the songwriter’s perspective, is the content of the conversation: if your guest actually enjoys spending time with you.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eWriting this piece for soprano and orchestra, I felt this distinction blurring. Setting lyrics on the phenomenal voice of my friend Eliza Bagg against the backdrop of the Saint Paul Chamber Orchestra required balancing the personal and the architectural, toggling between storytelling and structure, intimate and vast. It felt like conducting a personal conversation in a rather grand and spooky home, full of secret passages and hidden doors: a heart-to-heart in a haunted house. It was fitting, then, that the visitor I wanted to invite in was a ghost.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eMy grandfather, Arnold Ludwig, is ninety-three and living with advanced dementia. His work as a psychiatrist, specializing in the research of occult phenomena, altered states, witchcraft, and hypnosis, is now distant as a dream to him. To speak with that version of my grandfather would require a séance.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eThe text of this piece is assembled from three sources. The central narrative is taken from a Spiritualist account published in 1905, told from the perspective of a dead woman named Julia and channeled by a medium shortly after her death. Her story recounts her experiences immediately after dying: seeing her own body, watching her loved ones mourn, and meeting an angel who leads her into the afterlife. As her account unfolds, I have braided in excerpts from a psychiatric paper my grandfather published in 1966 entitled “Altered States of Consciousness,” as well as a scientific paper entitled “Decay rates of human remains in an arid environment\" published by Alison Galloway et al. in 1989. These texts bleed into Julia’s story, creating a disorienting effect over time, as if the thread of consciousness is dissolving.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eI feel a kinship to the Spiritualists: their earnest desire to commune with the hereafter and their (somewhat less earnest) exploitation of that desire in their audiences feels, to me, not dissimilar from my own role as a musician. Every musical performance is an agreement with the listeners: a promise to take them on a journey away from their daily lives, with the hopes of delivering something meaningful, maybe even magical. But at the same time, as the grandson of a psychiatrist and the son of a secular family of artists, I feel like I grew up knowing how the illusions are made– how to set up the room for the séance.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eAs I was piecing together this text, I was more interested in what the scientists had to say. But as I was writing the music, I was much more drawn to Julia’s words. The tension between the two brought up questions for me about the line that separates reality and imagination. Perhaps the distinction is not actually that important? Maybe when it comes to matters of life and death, perception is what counts. \u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp dir=\"ltr\"\u003e\u003cspan\u003eIf my grandfather, a man who devoted his life to science but obsessed over the unexplainable, were still able, I bet he would have enjoyed the conversation.\u003c\/span\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e \u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eFull orchestration:\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eSolo Voice\u003cbr\u003eFlute I.II,\u2028Oboe,\u2028English Horn,\u2028Clarinet in Bb,\u2028Bass Clarinet, Bassoon I.II\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eHorn I.II,\u2028Trumpet I.II\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003e\u003cmeta charset=\"utf-8\"\u003eHarp\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eTimpani\/Perc I, II\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003cp\u003eViolin I,\u2028Violin II,\u2028Viola,\u2028Cello,\u2028Bass\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/p\u003e\n\u003c!----\u003e","brand":"My Store","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":43037606903904,"sku":null,"price":90.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0584\/1118\/8320\/files\/Screenshot2026-08-12at1.55.34PM.png?v=1786557365","url":"https:\/\/62cf2d-c2.myshopify.com\/products\/orchestra-and-voice-the-visitor","provider":"Ellis Ludwig-Leone Online Store","version":"1.0","type":"link"}