Savior - Libretto

A m y

B e t h

K i r s t e n

S A V I O R

L I B R E T T O

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Š2017 bad wolf publishing, new haven, ct

Dec 25, 2017 (FINAL)

LIBRETTO

S A V I O R

CHARACTERS [in order of appearance]

Joan of Arc: Young warrior sent by God to save France [This character is represented by the vocal trio as well as individual solo voices, especially soprano 1 in certain scenes.]

The Stag: Embodiment of Joan’s divine voices [The flutist wears a Stag mask; the sound of this character is represented primarily by the flute and mezzo-soprano voice.]

Chronicler: Seasoned English commander; entries from his war diary [An actor’s pre-recorded voice fed through the house sound system as part of the sound design; at times the pre-recorded voice is part of the live music.]

Trial Interrogators: Men of the cloth desperate to charge Joan with heresy [Played by the entire ensemble including, at times, the speaking voices of the instrumentalists.]

SETTING Joan of Arc’s mind in the breath before death; a flash of omniscience, memory, and yearning.

SYNOPSIS Joan of Arc is on the stake. In the breath before death, there is a flash of omniscience – a barrage of time, sound, and memory. As she comes in and out of consciousness, Time scans itself and replays events surrounding her life and death. The music of her divine visions envelops her. She hears the voice of an enemy, as chronicled in his war diary; she then remembers a song from her childhood. The divine visitor brings a message. The Chronicler yearns for Joan’s death. Suddenly, she is on trial, and condemned. The Chronicler recalls a humiliating defeat at the hands of “the Devil’s maid.” Joan recalls her capture.

Now, the fire…she calls out for her Savior: Jésu won’t You come? There is only silence. She waits. In the haze, an answer, and a final breath.

INSTRUMENTATION Soprano 1, Soprano 2, Mezzo-Soprano, Alto Flute, Cello, Percussion with stylized movement, and sound, lighting, and costume designs

SAVIOR I. II. III. IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI.

breath visitation chronicler roses visitation* chronicler trial chronicler fire silence visitation

(*hommage to Crumb, Reich, Saariaho)

The text for movement IX (“fire”) is the poem Les Roses de Saadi by Marceline Desbordes-Valmore (d. 1859).

The text for movement XI (“visitation”) is adapted from the 8th Advent ‘O antiphon’, O virgo virginum.

French translations by Hai-Ting Chinn.

Duration: approximately 65 minutes

SAVIOR In Memoriam Susan Kirsten

I.

BREATH [Joan of Arc “powers on” with grotesque head movements and breaths. Sound: In the breath before death, a flash of omniscience – a barrage of time, sound, and memory.

Time scans itself, searches for a “channel…”]

II.

VISITATION [...it lands upon ethereal flute music as The Stag flickers upstage.]

THE STAG:

Factum est. [trans. It is done.]

JOAN (vocal trio): Jésu! Jésu!

[The Stag fades.]

III. CHRONICLER [Sound: Time scans itself again and lands upon the Chronicler’s war diary; His voice is deep and well-worn; quick to disgust and anger when speaking of Joan.]

15th June, 1429 – Under the cover of night and unrelenting rain, we arrive in Patay at last, hungry, and in much need of rest. But rest doesn’t come easy…we’re knee-deep in mud and blood here; there is a familiar abundance of lack that is almost too much to bear. But somehow those are not the thoughts that scare away sleep… This little sheboy that fights for the French…my men whisper of her. There’s gossip of her “miracles”: winds changing at her command, premonitions, a buried sword, hearing voices… This is the work of the Devil! It’s not only the bloody French that we’re up against, but an evil that no mere man, or even an army of men alone, can put down – thank God Heaven’s on our side. A little girl playing at soldiers…? They must be mad to listen to that whore – or they’re under her spell, the witch. But we will not be taken in by her magic. To look on this creature – this abomination… dressed like a man, hair cut short, legs splayed across a horse like a trollop inviting every eye to wander – this is no “messenger of God.” …I hunger for much in these days, but my most untroubled craving is for the day when she will burn – or it will – whatever IT is.

JOAN: Whatever it is. Whatever it is. Whatever it is.

IV. ROSES [Suddenly, a flash from childhood – a song her mother taught her.]

JOAN: Je cueille des roses pour ma mere, roses pour ma mere, et pour mon Roi [translation: I pick roses for my mother and for my King.]

V. VISITATION [The Stag interrupts with a message from Heaven. Joan falls to her knees.] (translation) O fille…Aimable fille, tu m’entends Ainsi que les cloches dans les champs Enfant fidèle, n’aie pas peur de ce qui t’attend Prie pour la vraie vision - le Ciel justifie ta mission Avec ton aide tombera l’ennemi et je t'emmènerai au Paradis

O daughter. You hear me good daughter just as you hear the church bells in the field.

Faithful child do not be afraid of what awaits.

Pray to see. This mission is sanctioned by Heaven. With your aid enemies will fail and I will lead you to paradise.

Pleur alors, fille brave que ma voix te fasse pleurer C’est la lumière de Lui-même qui t’entour Fidèle enfant

Weep now, good daughter, let my voice make you weep; it is the light of God himself that overwhelms you, faithful child.

Pleure, ma fille; que ma voix fasse rouler tes larmes / Lorsqu’elle verse la Parole dans ton cœur Et sur ton sourire de flamme

Weep, daughter, let my voice make you weep as it spreads His word on your heart - across your smile on fire.

Va, Fille, va / Vetue en garçon, ne crains aucun danger Va, et ne t'arrête pas, À n’importe quel prix, va, va, va. Je suis toujours auprès de toi ; va.

Go, daughter, safe in the costume of a man.

Good daughter, go…and do not stop at any cost.

Go, go, go. I will be with you. Go.

[The Stag exits.]

VI. CHRONICLER [Sound: Time “scanning, coming into focus.”]

17th June – Sometimes I think the greatest trait a man can have in war is patience – that and dry feet. No one can prepare for how much of war is waiting: waiting to give the command, waiting for advance riders to return, waiting for the weather or the

morning to break, or for the cover of night, waiting for provisions to arrive, for rations which are always long in coming… We wait – and we want so desperately everything we wait for. It’s a savage patience – one that tests the mettle of every man.

Falstof took up a defensive formation, and as before, we agreed I’d take several hundred archers and hold the forward position in a narrow course between two woods – the best position to surprise our enemy. And it’s here among the bramble that we’ve been crouched ever since – so long now that hunger sits like a black crow on our shoulders digging in sharply with its claws quietly waiting, its wings waiting, its tiny breath in our ears, its eyes waiting with us as we set this trap. We search the heavy air for any sound of the little whore and her pimps. We know the stakes – we cannot suffer another humiliation at the hands of this Devil’s maid. For this fair-faced demon, we wait – and want. May the sweet hour soon come when arrows take wing from our knuckles into Armagnac necks.

[The next scene begins abruptly – like a shock.]

VII. TRIAL [The interrogators’ line of questioning is without substance and quickly progresses to the realm of the absurd as they constantly circle back to the question of Joan’s attire – they are eager, hungry, to make an example of her. Joan is defiant. She realizes too late that her guilt – and her death – is a foregone conclusion.]

(Interrogators:) Swear an oath to tell the truth. [To each other, as an aside:] Entertain us! [To Joan:] Tell us about your manner of dress…why do you look like a man?

(Joan: trio) What does it matter? I am God’s messenger. Have you not got good hope in Him? Don’t you think He knows what He is doing?

(I:) You say the Archangel Michael visited you – what did he look like? You say the Archangel visited you – was he naked? Did he have hair? Did he have horns? Did he have eyes? Could he see you? Was he naked?

(Joan: trio) Do you think Our Lord has not the means to clothe him?

(I:) Tell us tell us (J: trio) It seems to me you should be satisfied. I answered these yesterday.

(Joan: solo) [in prayer] Very Sweet Jésu, in honor of Your Holy Passion, I beg you send counsel as to what details I should share…

(I:) Entertains us. Why wear the costume of a man? Did Saint Michael come to you in the night? Swear an oath to tell the truth.

(J: trio) I swore an oath yesterday; that should be enough.

(J: solo) [in prayer] Sweet Jésu, if You love me, please reveal how I should answer these men…

(I:) Why do you dress like a man?

(J: trio) The clothes are such a small matter, the least of all things, why – [cut off] (I:) Did God tell you to wear this? When Saint Margaret came to you. Did she speak English? Did she?

(J: trio) Why would she? She is not on the side of the English.

(J: solo) [in prayer] My Sweet Savior, I know well, regarding my protective clothing and the other commands that I received, but I do not know anything about what You wish for me to tell…My Lord, send counsel.

(I:) And Saint Catherine – did she have short hair? Did she have horns? Did she visit you in the dark? Was she naked? Tell us about the Fairy Tree…Did you see a fairy there? Did your mandrake shriek when you pulled it from the ground? Who commanded you wear men’s clothes? Did your mandrake shriek? Why do you speak about God as if you know him? It is forbidden for a woman to wear men’s clothes! Why flout Heaven?

(J: trio) I am God’s warrior; I commanded an army at the request of Heaven – I ought not be here; you are putting yourselves in great peril. God sent me to do this work.

Believe me if you will.

(I:) Did you dance beside the Fairy Tree? Are you in the form of a woman? Or a man?

Tell us why you dress like a man. Tell us about your mandrake. And of the Fairy Tree.

Do you think yourself a man?

(I:) Did you dance beside the Fairy Tree, Seducer?

(J: trio) I commanded Heaven’s army!

(I:) Did your mandrake shriek, Liar?

(J:) My King will not leave me here long.

(I:) Tell us, Diviner of your men’s clothes!

(J:) Why would I leave my home, my mother, to become a soldier, if not for Him?

(I:) Why dress like a man, Liar?

(I:) Tell us! Did your mandrake shriek, Devil? Did you dance, Devil? Do you think yourself a man, Devil? Dance Devil! Burn Devil! Die Devil! Burn Devil, Burn!

VIII. CHRONICLER 19th June – The final bloody humiliation came yesterday. No one saw it coming. It was impossible; we couldn’t have planned for anything like it. It was like an absurd dream from which you cannot wake. This formation, this strategy, our strategy had been successful many times before. We had good information about the location of the enemy – or so we thought. We prepared the trap; we were waiting in the narrow pass between the two woods. In the stillness of the wait, and the silence of the rain – the unthinkable.

[Upon the words “silence of the rain”, the The Stag flickers upstage as before. This time the flickering goes on for a longer duration.]

A great stag broke through the edge of the wood and bounded haphazardly into our ranks. There were shouts and cries as we went after the beast – for surely God had sent us this gift! I could feel the crow of hunger release his grip and take wing, I could taste the meat even before it was caught and cooked. But the Armagnac whore had been closer than we thought, and our shouts…we gave ourselves away – or rather, the stag gave us away. The trap we planned became theirs. Arrows struck us almost instantly, we fought for our lives, for our King, for England. But there were too many – we couldn’t hold them. The strategy was lost – and so were many men. Too many.

Enough to change everything; our only course was retreat. That bloody stag…must be the Devil behind this. [Sound of Chronicler’s voice rewinding, warping, distorting, and repeating fragments of previous entry. The repeated fragments trigger Joan to recall her own capture and language fails her.]

[garbled tape] …We couldn’t have planned for anything like it. It was like an absurd dream from which you cannot wake. It was impossible. No one saw it (no one, no one, no one saw it, saw it) coming. [garbled tape] In the stillness and the silence [garbled tape] – the unthinkable. [garbled tape] There were shouts and cries as we went after the beast – surely God [garbled tape] I could feel (I could feel, I could feel, feel) the crow of hunger release his grip (his grip, his grip, I could feel his grip) and take wing, I (I, I, I, I) could taste the meat even before it was caught (caught, caught, I was caught, caught)… [garbled tape]

[The Stag fades and exits.]

JOAN: Je cueille des roses pour ma mere et pour mon Roi…Je suis La Pucelle de Dieu. Des roses…roses… [trans. I am the Maid of God.]

IX. FIRE [Certain her Savior will come, Joan faces the fire. The vocal trio is in position on “the stake” – i.e. standing, sitting, leaning upon two black wooden rehearsal cubes of different heights. Light moves eerily, casting shadows] (translation) J’ai voulu ce matin te rapporter des roses; Mais j’en avais tant pris dans mes ceintures closes Que les nœuds trop serrés n’ont pu les contenir.

Jésu, Jésu…

This morning I wanted to bring you roses, But I had put so many in my fastened sash That the knots, too tightly tied, could not hold them.

Les nœuds ont éclaté. Les roses envolées Dans le vent, à la mer s’en sont toutes allées.

Elles ont suivi l’eau pour ne plus revenir.

Jésu, Jésu…

The knots burst open. The roses, taking flight In the wind, were all carried off into the sea.

They flowed with the water, never to return.

La vague en a paru rouge et comme enflammée.

Ce soir, ma robe encore en est toute embaumée...

Respires-en sur moi l’odorant souvenir.

They made the waves appear red, as though on fire.

This evening, my dress is still perfumed with them...

Inhale their fragrant memory upon me.

Jésu…? Can you hear me? Won’t you come?

Pleur alors, enfant fidèle que ma voix te fasse pleurer, fille brave

Jésu won’t you come?

[Sop 1 singing with recording of herself] Weep now faithful child, let my voice Make you weep, good daughter

X. SILENCE (instrum ental) [Joan’s question, “Jésu, won’t you come?” lingers in the air, unanswered. Joan is left waiting, shivering – terrified.]

XI. VISITATION [As if we are looking through Joan’s fading eyes, we see a hazy Stag in silhouette, playing.]

JOAN: [relieved, tearful] Jésu! Jésu, mon Protecteur me voici enfin! [trans. Jesus, my Protector, here I am!]

[The strange voice of the Stag is heard.]

O Virgo virginum Filia Jerusalem, Quid me admiramini?

Divinum est misterium, Hoc quod cernitis. O Filia.

Factum est.

(translation) Oh Virgin of virgins Daughter of Jerusalem Why do you wonder at me?

This mystery that you see is from God. Oh daughter. It is done.

JOAN: [Rapturously] Jésu…! Jésu…! Jésu…! Jésu…! Jé[Sound: Time “powers down”. Lighting intensity on Soprano 1; stage goes to black around her as the sound fades to nothing. Her face becomes a brilliant light, then suddenly dark.]

THE END.