Album Review: “Songs in Flight”
On February 14, Cedille Records will release Songs in Flight, an album of world premiere recordings of vocal music by Chicago-based composer Shawn E. Okpebholo. The titular song cycle was inspired by the Freedom on the Move database, collected by historians at Cornell University. The song cycle works to “breathe life into these dehumanizing records,” Okpebholo says in his program note. Although initially hesitant to take on the project given the emotional demands, he said, “I felt an undeniable pull to reaffirm the dignity and personhood of these lives, whose stories persist in fragments.” The album, which concludes with four additional pieces by Okpebholo from four other song cycles, features a star-studded lineup of artists, including singers Rhiannon Giddens, Will Liverman, Reginald Mobley, and Karen Slack; pianist Paul Sánchez; and saxophonist Julian Velasco.
Like any art song cycle, it is best to read the lyrics while listening to gain a full appreciation of the marriage between the music and the text. That is especially important for this album, where the stories are paramount. Fortunately, the text is in English, and the singers all have impeccable diction. The only time the words get lost is when Okpebholo scores passages high in the soprano range (often for dramatic effect), or when multiple singers are singing different texts concurrently. (The text booklet has not yet been made available to the general public, but hopefully it will be easily accessible on Cedille’s website after the release so those who are streaming can easily follow along.)
Before diving in, it is also highly recommended to read the liner notes by poet Tsitsi Ella Jaji, who provided texts for six of the songs, alongside poets Crystal Simone Smith and Tyehimba Jess. In her notes Jaji explains, “Freedom on the Move presents these instruments of systematic cruelty designed to control the movement of enslaved people as miniature portraits of people who had no other way to enter historical record.” Her notes provide a helpful roadmap through Okpebholo’s song cycle and make clear the connections between the advertisements that inspired each song and the poetry.
Even without the aid of the text and program notes, Okpebholo’s songs are musically and emotionally arresting. The stylistically flexible Rhiannon Giddens opens the cycle with a spiritual, “Oh Freedom,” sung a capella at first before the piano begins to punctuate the vocal line with dissonant bass clusters in a dark, inexorable march. This powerful opening track sets the tone for the rest of the cycle and prepares the listener for the emotional journey to come.
The next song, “In Flight,” opens with spoken text over a mediative piano accompaniment, clearly stating the description of a runaway enslaved person named Phebe. Soprano Karen Slack interjects as the poet (Jaji), who grapples with how the act of combing through the database of advertisements echoes the act of selecting people to purchase in the slave markets. Slack’s luscious voice is displayed to best effect in this song, with its lyrical sweeping lines and opportunity for tenderness in the middle range.
Poet Crystal Simone Smith contributed four haiku-like poems for character portraits in “Asko, or Glascow,” “Peter,” “Jack (and Paul),” and “Mariah Francis.” Throughout these songs, Okpebholo demonstrates his grounding in history with the diversity of styles he draws upon (a chaconne, work song, field holler, and waltz, respectively). These are also cast in different combinations of voices, from the dissonant trio of “Asko, or Glasgow” to the solo song “Peter,” delivered with scornful bite by baritone Will Liverman.
Overall, the cycle is well paced, offering respite when the listener needs it most. Okpebholo interweaves glimmers of hope and softness into the otherwise heavy subject matter without verging into sentimentality. For instance, “Mud Song” features playful vocal leaps as Giddens sings about avoiding crocodiles while escaping across wetlands. Here, Giddens employs a more classical vocal technique than in “Oh Freedom,” levying the lightness of her upper range to good effect to depict the tentativeness of traversing the dangerous landscape.
Countertenor Reginald Mobley is equally flexible, often dipping seamlessly into his chest voice. In “I Go by Robert,” he tosses off virtuosic gospel melismas as he insists he goes by “Robert,” not “Bob” as the advertisement states. This song contains another example of Okpebholo’s clever word painting. He effectively captures Robert’s “swagger” from having one leg shorter than the other with the rhythmic jauntiness of the piano.
The crux of the song cycle comes in two songs with contemporary connections. “Ahmaud,” an elegiac lullaby sung with understated tenderness by Giddens, was inspired by an advertisement by one Shadrack McMichael in Georgia for a runaway named Edom. In a nearby county in 2020, two other McMichaels murdered Ahmaud Arbery while he was out for a jog. This chilling parallel connects the atrocities of the past with the racial violence of the present, bringing to mind the quote by William Faulkner in Jaji’s liner notes, “The past is never dead. It's not even past.”
Similarly, “Four Martins” connects the advertisements for three different Martins with the murder of Trayvon Martin by George Zimmerman in 2012. The most intense song of the cycle, it ends with a haunting repeated cluster chord on the word “scot-free,” referring to how Zimmerman faced no repercussions for his actions.
Fortunately, the song cycle does not end there but with “Jubilee: Thomas Rutling,” a setting of a poem by Tyehimba Jess about one of the original Fisk Jubilee Singers. While the song still recalls violence enacted on Rutling and his mother when they were separated from each other, it includes a tender quote of the spiritual “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot” as Rutling recalls his mother’s voice. The song allows Liverman to bring more softness into his tone and even soar into his falsetto range for the final words, “And did she die / Dreaming of our flight, hands clasped, into starlight?”
Four other songs by Okpebholo close out the album, allowing the listener to process the previous cycle. “An Echo, An Ending” sees Giddens in a gentle dialogue with saxophonist Julian Velasco. Next, “Time” is reminiscent of the “Flower Duet” from Lakmé with its sweeping strings of parallel thirds. “Sing, O Black Mother,” to text by Langston Hughes, is a jaunty and confident outing for Liverman, while “I’m Sure” features a French Impressionistic piano part for Sánchez and long arching vocal lines for Slack. Pushing Slack to the upper reaches of her range on difficult vowels was not kind of Okpebholo, but she negotiated the vocal demands assuredly.
Pianist Paul Sánchez was a staunch force throughout the album, providing the heavy weight of the hammering bass ostinatos while also being able to pull it back for delicate Impressionistic flights. Although only featured on two tracks, Velasco’s playing was equally sensitive and offered some welcome textural variety.
Songs in Flight will be released on February 14. Pre-order from Cedille Records, or pre-save on your preferred music streaming service.
