Under a Veil of Stars was commissioned originally by the AYR Trio, which at the time was composed of pianist Angela Park, violinist Yehonatan Berick, and cellist Rachel Mercer. Yehonatan’s sudden passing in 2020 altered not only the constitution of the trio, but the music itself — its materials, structure, and purpose. What began as another fantastical journey became, instead, a tribute to a man, whose legacy of inspiring others I have tried to do musical justice to. It is a memorial painted not in somber hues (although there are certainly somber moments) but in vibrant, life-affirming colours. It is a work that embraces lyricism, virtuosity, passion, otherworldliness, and — eventually — a kind of grace that I can attribute only to Yehonatan’s guiding spirit.
The trio is structured in three movements which — taken as a whole — suggest a broad life cycle that chronicles childhood, adulthood, and old age. The first movement (I. The Stars Are Never Still) is based on a short story I wrote in 2021 for my friend’s one-year-old daughter, about a girl who chases (and catches) stars. The music explores the spirit of wonder and adventure associated with childhood, with shimmering textures evocative of sky brimming with stars; as well as the bittersweetness of surrendering something precious to the will of the universe. By contrast, the second movement (II. Land of Poison Trees) is a distinctly grown-up meditation on resentment and revenge. A fantastical rumination on William Blake’s poem A Poison Tree, the movement’s scherzo-and-trio form houses a cauldron of musical snakes — queasy string pitch-bends, explosive dissonances, and a driving, propulsive piano part. Brief lyrical episodes and an eerie, ‘classical’ coda suggest the pretense of civility which often masks the rage beneath.
Rabindranath Tagore’s poem Sail Away provides the impetus for the third movement, III. In That Shoreless Ocean… This movement reflects an earnest (and at times despairing) attempt to grapple with death, with grief, and finally with the possibility of transcendent reunion. The movement spotlights the cello, both in its opening lament, and in the pastoral, Beethovenian chorale which — after a series of exhausting, oceanic crests and troughs — arrives like sunlight upon the shores of a new world. Under a Veil of Stars is dedicated in loving memory to Yehonatan Berick.
