World Premiere 4/29/24 Nathan Graham, bass Rodrigo Ojeda, piano

An Mhaighdean Mhara Performed by CMU Philharmonic March 15, 2023 Daniel Curtis (conductor) Therese West (solo violin) Videos are shots of midcoast Maine collected by myself and my family.

Poetry by Emma Berkowitz ft. Emma Berkowitz, mezzo-soprano Victor Valle, piano

CMU Philharmonic Daniel Curtis, conductor Therese West, solo violin Program Note: The myth of selkies, a sort of cross between a mermaid and a seal, has captivated me for nearly twenty years. Since I lived on the coast and encountered seals quite often, I liked to imagine that there were selkies around me. Though largely associated with Scotland and Ireland, tales of seal-people abound throughout Northern European folklore. Seals are wondrous creatures, glistening and playful, and their uncannily human eyes make it easy to imagine a person residing beneath their slippery skin. Though specific details vary amongst cultural interpretations of selkies, there are commonalities within each mythology: once a year selkies shed their skin and walk on land as humans, fishermen often steal a selkie's sealskin to trap her on land and become his wife, and the selkie laments the loss of her skin and the sea. Sometimes, the selkie recovers her sealskin and returns to the crashing waves, leaving her human husband and children onshore. Sometimes she calls down a curse upon the land to punish those who would harm seals. The salient connection I’ve found amongst these myths exists at the intersection of identity and agency. Selkies are neither simply seal nor human; they are entities of land and sea who don’t confine themselves to either. The major conflict in selkie myths occurs when someone, usually a fisherman, strips away a selkie’s ability to choose to swim in sealskin or walk the land as a woman. It is a violation of both her autonomy and her identity. We are all searching for the place we belong, and, though that place can change alongside us, we deserve the right to exist in spaces that validate our identity and uplift our agency.

A song cycle detailing moments from the Odyssey as translated by Dr. Emily Wilson. i. rosy-fingered dawn ii. she is not mortal iii. and the goddess listened ft. Sarah Austin, Mezzo-Soprano Emma Berkowitz, Piano Program Note: Odysseus on Aeaea is the product of a lifelong interest in mythology, an exciting new translation, and a serendipitous friendship. When the powerhouse mezzo-soprano Sarah Austin approached me last year with the prospect of writing a piece for her recital, I knew I had to write something that touched upon both of our interests. We both studied literature at our respective undergraduate universities, so poetry and storytelling was of the utmost importance in choosing a text to set. There were many ideas tossed around, but Dr. Emily Wilson’s recent English translation of Homer’s The Odyssey felt profound enough that we quickly and readily agreed upon the mythological subject material. In 2018, Dr. Wilson became the first woman to publish an English translation of The Odyssey. The New York Times named her translation one of the “most notable books of 2018.” Reviewers have remarked upon the delicate and poetic nature of Wilson’s translation in direct juxtaposition to the harsh and often misogynistic translations that preceded hers. Sarah and I bonded over our mutual love of Madeline Miller’s Circe, which is a feminist retelling of The Odyssey, so I endeavored to pull fragments of text from portions of Wilson’s translation which reference the character of Circe. The first movement, “rosy-fingered dawn,” paints the picture of a sunrise. We see and hear Helios, the sun god, driving his chariot through the sky to reveal the rosy pink and yellow bloom of Dawn in the clouds. In the next movement, “she is not mortal,” is Circe’s warning to Odysseus to beware the infamous sea-monsters: Scylla and Charybdis. I find this portion of The Odyssey especially interesting in tandem with Miller’s interpretation of the vitriolic relationship between Circe and Scylla. Finally, in “and the goddess listened,” we witness Odysseus’ encounter with Circe. She has already transformed his crew to pigs, and she attempts to drug him as well. However, Odysseus possesses some powers of persuasion that prompt her to change his fellows from pigs back to men.

Featuring: Leah Huber, soprano Wallis Lucas, soprano Emma Berkowitz, mezzo-soprano Sarah Austin, mezzo-soprano

Coming soon to a website near you...my sheet music publishing store! I'll soon have available and ready a plethora of art song, chamber music, choral pieces, and even my new orchestral work! Huzzah! The formatting ft. What Crime is This? by Emma Berkowitz

This is a movement from my current project: The Language of Flowers. I have been writing poetry using floriography and then setting it to music. This poem in particular is a confession of love. “Love Bouquet” music and lyrics by me (Emma Berkowitz) I have a message for you, says the Iris. And the Foxglove, such wistfulness. Oh, to be worthy of you, sings the White Rose and its Rosebud in murmured confessions. Beware! The Oleander cries, and the Camellia: My heart bleeds for you! For you, I speak only in truth, pleads the Nightshade Belladonna. The Periwinkle pleasures of your memory occupy my thoughts! Shouts the Pansy. You occupy my thoughts. For I am devoted with Honeysuckle lips to your two lips, says the tulip. The rose-scented Geranium breaths: you are my preference. Forget-Me-Not, my truest love… Forever thine, From a Dahlia #womeninmusic #womencomposers #opera #artsong #classicalmusic #carnegiemellon #emmaberkowitz #victorian

Student Composer's Concert Daniel Nesta Curtis, conductor Program: Aaron Morrison at the speed of trees Victor Valle and the fool leaped Michael Loguercio Dynamite Cinema Emma Berkowitz An Mhaighdean Mhara Liam P. Mulligan Bit by Bit Jacob Schoenle The Unspeakable