DESCRIPTION:
Woodcuts
By William Harvey (1982- )

Sonata for cello and piano in seven movements
Composed: May 20, 2005 to November 17, 2006
Inspired by War (1923)
Seven woodcuts by Käthe Kollwitz (1867-1945)
Premiere: October 30, 2011; Los Angeles; Peter Myers, cello; Sarah Gibson, piano

On a visit to the Museum of Modern Art in New York City in 2005, I saw two woodcuts from Käthe Kollwitz's War cycle. Amidst art that was more modern and flamboyant, the stark brutality she achieved made the biggest impression. The woodcuts, which grimly capture the suffering of the German people during World War I, echoed my own reflections about the war in Iraq. For this work, I re-arranged the order of the cycle, beginning with "The Mothers." The woodcut shows a group of grieving mothers, huddled together for warmth and comfort. Yet there is an awful sense of terror in their eyes, and I aimed to capture this in frenetic, disjointed lines.

The second movement, by contrast, is thin and spare, as the cello and piano each weave a slow, halting melodic line around the other. Kollwitz's "The Parents" shows two parents comforting one another, presumably over the loss of their son in battle, and so I tried to capture their desperate attempt to console one another with this elegiac sarabande.

The third movement is a sick scherzo inspired by "The Widow, II," which depicts a widow prostrate with grief clutching a sleeping child to her. Does the child even know its father is dead? What does it dream of? Kollwitz leaves this up to the imagination, but this scherzo suggests both the grief of the widow and the blissful ignorance (and continued playfulness) of the child.

Kollwitz's "The People" shows a woman stoically guarding her child from the phantoms of hatred and poverty. The perdurable expression on the woman's face called to mind stately, solemn music with a turgid angst, in the manner of Shostakovich.

"The Volunteers" is a terrifying evocation of volunteer soldiers in a trench with bombs whizzing overhead. Some are screaming; their faces resemble skulls. In this movement, for solo piano, one hears bombs falling, as well as martial music armies have always used to lure unsuspecting men into battle. The movement ends prematurely, just like the lives of many young soldiers.

"The Sacrifice" is Kollwitz's most frightening creation. It depicts a nude woman, her figure stripped of any femininity or sexuality, holding her baby high above her head. She seems willing to kill her baby rather than allow it to mature in a world scarred by war. This movement attempts to capture the messianic (and Messiaenic) insanity of such a sacrifice.

Few works of art seem lonelier to me than "The Widow, I," which closes the piece. A woman, her eyes closed in grief, hugs herself in a desperate attempt to recall what it was like to hug her husband. This movement, for cello alone, suggests the grief of a woman who will never again know peace or sanity. "Woodcuts" is dedicated to the families of the victims of the war in Iraq.