The poem appears as an epigraph in W. E. B. Du Bois's "The Souls of Black Folk," which is where Malone found it. Beneath Symons's lines, Du Bois supplies musical notation for the opening phrase of the spiritual "Nobody Knows the Trouble I've Seen." The topic, then, is sorrow, songs of sorrow, sounds of sorrow.
Malone's album, a hushed, meditative collection of pieces for male vocal quartet, brass quintet, and organ, is steeped in melancholy, but it is not the kind of melancholy that you can absent-mindedly sink into, as if wrapping yourself in a comforter on a cold night. Malone and a group of collaborators recently presented a live rendition of "All Life Long," at Lincoln Center's Alice Tully Hall, as part of the annual New York edition of the Polish festival Unsound. The titular work, vaguely in the key of A minor, was heard in versions for choir and for solo organ. The music seems, at first encounter, an exercise in trancelike minimalist repetition, with compactly rising-and-falling five-note phrases recurring dozens of times. The words "all life long" unfold as a primordial sigh. There is, however, a harmonic tension at the heart of the conception, as semitone dissonances pierce the texture in almost every bar F against E, D-sharp against E, C against B. As one of these twinges is resolved, another intrudes. The tension subsides only in the last iteration, as the bare interval A-E swells and then breaks off.
This story is from the December 09, 2024 edition of The New Yorker.
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This story is from the December 09, 2024 edition of The New Yorker.
Start your 7-day Magzter GOLD free trial to access thousands of curated premium stories, and 9,000+ magazines and newspapers.
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