SEEDS: A Holocene Passion

music and libretto by Leighanne Saltsman

edited by R.A. Nelson

After the poems of Kate Bluett,
AddieRose Brown and Rainer Maria Rilke

To feel powerless and afraid is one of the worst feelings a human can have, and I believe we as a society are feeling this way.

SEEDS is intended to be a roadmap as we embark upon a collective grieving process for our lost relationship with the Earth.

The field across from Leighanne’s home
Photo by Leighanne Satlsman

Invasive Oriental Bittersweet “Celastrus orbiculatus
Photo by Leighanne Saltsman

TO LISTEN, LEARN AND WAIT:

Humanity’s Search for Guidance in Uncertain Ecological Times

In addition to being a composer I am a professional heritage gardener. As a twelfth-generation steward of the land in New York’s Hudson Valley, I experience climate change differently than most.

Climate change is not just a concept in my world — it’s my reality.

Daffodils killed by late snowfall
Photo by Melanie Fostrom

Vocalists

The Child—soprano
The Narrator—mezzo soprano
The North Star—tenor
The Earth—bass

Instrumentation

SATB Choir with divisi

Bass Drum, TamTam, Spring Drum

Crotales and Handbells

Reverberation of the performance location

Duration

~ 30 minutes

Latin Translation

by David Ungvary

German Translation

by Joanna Macy

Mature Sycamore felled by unseasonal storms
Photo by Leighanne Satlsman

HOW IT WAS

I often ask my teachers and mentors what I should do now that the climate has shifted. Can I still plant my seedlings on Memorial Day weekend (which has been tradition for generations) now that we are getting 80 degree days in March?

What do I do when the trees and shrubs bud up six weeks early, then freeze before they can bloom?

What do I plant in place of zucchini and cucumbers, which now rot on the vine in the deluge of rain?

But the old timers have no answers. The climate is upside down, and we’re all in it together.

This is why I’ve chosen to write “SEEDS: A Holocene Passion” — as a way of addressing the collective grief we feel for the loss of climate stability.

Quiet friend who has come so far
Feel how your breathing makes more space around you.
Let this darkness be a bell tower
And you the bell.

As you ring, what batters you
Becomes your strength
Move back and forth into the change.
What is it like, such intensity of pain?
— Rainier Maria Rilke

This is a work in progress and parts of it will be workshopped by Downtown Voices @ Trinity Wall Street during the ‘25-26 season.

If you would like to be part of the development process please contact Leighanne Saltsman directly.

Calendula blossom
Photo by Leighanne Saltsman