Product Description:
PDF score of The Earthquake Song.
Program Note:
The Earthquake Song was written for the 2017 Vancouver Opera New Works Project. Librettist Heather Ramsay and Composer Carolyn Quick each had one day to write the text and music for the scene, which was then workshopped by resident performers Geoff Schellenberg (baritone), Tamar Simon (soprano), and Mary Castello (piano), under the guidance of composer Benton Roark and director Rachel Peake.
Instrumentation:
Soprano, Baritone, & Piano
Text by Heather Ramsay
8 minutes
Vocal Range: Soprano: F4-A5, Baritone: C3-G5
Text by Heather Ramsay
8 minutes
Vocal Range: Soprano: F4-A5, Baritone: C3-G5
Recording:
(starts 13:08)
Score:
Text:
Summary:
Two lovers who have had a spat are thousands of miles from each other when an earthquake happens in their hometown. It is about that precious connection between lovers that must be nurtured or a sudden shift might widen the gap.
The song opens with the man and woman on stage. The woman is in a lawn chair, wearing sunglasses and beach cover up. The man is in regular clothes unloading groceries onto a kitchen table. They are near each other, but an invisible barrier separates them. The singers will act as if they cannot see or hear each other, except through their phones. Though the characters are gendered in the score, they can be sung by anyone of any gender identity and are welcome to transpose octaves as needed.
Stage directions below are in italics.
Libretto:
Kit
Typing. Pure Pacific blue. Saw three green turtles on the swim we did last year.
Ding from text comes out of his phone.
He looks but keeps wiping table.
Typing. Lanai at sunset. Mom and Dad missed your mai tai mixing skills.
Ding from text on his phone.
He looks. Picks up reads. Rolls his eyes and sets it aside.
Jet (getting annoyed)
So many texts. I’m trying to take a break from our life.
Kit
Typing: I booked a guided hike on the volcano today.
Ding from text on his phone. Looks over.
Jet (getting more annoyed)
The volcano! We were supposed to go together.
Kit
Starts typing: Don’t forget…
Jet
Enough!
Grabs the phone. Angrily pockets it.
Kit
Stops typing. Thinks for a second. Dials phone instead. Places phone to their ear. Phone rings but no answer.
Wish you were here.
Jet touches his pocket but doesn’t look. Starts drying dishes.
Slow rumble as an earthquake starts. He grabs the counter, looks confused, then afraid.
Jet
What was that awful movement?
A slipping, a rippling in the floor?
The walls are vibrating.
The cupboards bang
Dishes shatter
The earth begins to roar.
I reach out to take your hand.
But all I grasp are shadows.
I hear the timbers moaning.
The very wood we hammered into place.
Each nail is straining.
Something splinters up the stairs.
A crack is widening.
Our home is fighting to stay whole.
He is getting more worried, stumbling around. Looking for something.
At the same time, the ringing motif from the phone starts underneath… getting more and more often as he continues.
Where is the kit you made?
You were always more prepared.
I am supposed to be the strong one.
Should I run outside now?
Or get under the table.
You would remember what to do.
I reach for you. But grasp at shadows.
The crack is widening. Our love is dividing.
I should have never let you go alone.
Ahh. Now the light is gone.
He stands there for a moment as the rumbling stops. After a few beats, the phone sound comes in.
What is that? My phone keeps rumbling.
He pulls it out of his pocket and looks at it.
Ten messages?
Then presses the answer button and puts phone to his ear.
Jet
Hello?
Kit
Oh my god. Why don’t you answer the phone? I just heard about the earthquake. Are you okay?
Jet
I, I, I, I’m fine. How . . .Where are you?
Kit
I’m just here with my parents. Are you sure you’re okay?
He is hesitant at first and looking around. He runs his hand along the wall gains more confidence.
Jet
Everything is fine.
Kit
It’s all over social media. People are freaking out.
Jet
The danger is over.
Kit
Nothing broken?
Jet
A small crack. A quick fix. The house we built is strong.
Kit
There’s a tsunami warning here. I have to evacuate.
Jet
I’m sure all will be fine. . . Just come home.
Two lovers who have had a spat are thousands of miles from each other when an earthquake happens in their hometown. It is about that precious connection between lovers that must be nurtured or a sudden shift might widen the gap.
The song opens with the man and woman on stage. The woman is in a lawn chair, wearing sunglasses and beach cover up. The man is in regular clothes unloading groceries onto a kitchen table. They are near each other, but an invisible barrier separates them. The singers will act as if they cannot see or hear each other, except through their phones. Though the characters are gendered in the score, they can be sung by anyone of any gender identity and are welcome to transpose octaves as needed.
Stage directions below are in italics.
Libretto:
Kit
Typing. Pure Pacific blue. Saw three green turtles on the swim we did last year.
Ding from text comes out of his phone.
He looks but keeps wiping table.
Typing. Lanai at sunset. Mom and Dad missed your mai tai mixing skills.
Ding from text on his phone.
He looks. Picks up reads. Rolls his eyes and sets it aside.
Jet (getting annoyed)
So many texts. I’m trying to take a break from our life.
Kit
Typing: I booked a guided hike on the volcano today.
Ding from text on his phone. Looks over.
Jet (getting more annoyed)
The volcano! We were supposed to go together.
Kit
Starts typing: Don’t forget…
Jet
Enough!
Grabs the phone. Angrily pockets it.
Kit
Stops typing. Thinks for a second. Dials phone instead. Places phone to their ear. Phone rings but no answer.
Wish you were here.
Jet touches his pocket but doesn’t look. Starts drying dishes.
Slow rumble as an earthquake starts. He grabs the counter, looks confused, then afraid.
Jet
What was that awful movement?
A slipping, a rippling in the floor?
The walls are vibrating.
The cupboards bang
Dishes shatter
The earth begins to roar.
I reach out to take your hand.
But all I grasp are shadows.
I hear the timbers moaning.
The very wood we hammered into place.
Each nail is straining.
Something splinters up the stairs.
A crack is widening.
Our home is fighting to stay whole.
He is getting more worried, stumbling around. Looking for something.
At the same time, the ringing motif from the phone starts underneath… getting more and more often as he continues.
Where is the kit you made?
You were always more prepared.
I am supposed to be the strong one.
Should I run outside now?
Or get under the table.
You would remember what to do.
I reach for you. But grasp at shadows.
The crack is widening. Our love is dividing.
I should have never let you go alone.
Ahh. Now the light is gone.
He stands there for a moment as the rumbling stops. After a few beats, the phone sound comes in.
What is that? My phone keeps rumbling.
He pulls it out of his pocket and looks at it.
Ten messages?
Then presses the answer button and puts phone to his ear.
Jet
Hello?
Kit
Oh my god. Why don’t you answer the phone? I just heard about the earthquake. Are you okay?
Jet
I, I, I, I’m fine. How . . .Where are you?
Kit
I’m just here with my parents. Are you sure you’re okay?
He is hesitant at first and looking around. He runs his hand along the wall gains more confidence.
Jet
Everything is fine.
Kit
It’s all over social media. People are freaking out.
Jet
The danger is over.
Kit
Nothing broken?
Jet
A small crack. A quick fix. The house we built is strong.
Kit
There’s a tsunami warning here. I have to evacuate.
Jet
I’m sure all will be fine. . . Just come home.