Matthew Aucoin’s “Music for New Bodies” is a musical paradox contrasting the vitality of human life and the will to remain with the chaos of a cancer diagnosis and the coldness of the technological society in which we live. Over the course of 70 minutes the piece, described as a vocal symphony for its mix of sung and spoken verse, takes listeners through the speaker’s initial cancer diagnosis to her reckoning with the realities of surgery and finally, to a decision to carry on despite the coldness she has experienced. 

As presented by ensembleNEWSRQ and Artist Series Concerts of Sarasota at the Sarasota Opera House May 22, Aucoin’s music incorporated the brutally inquisitive and thought-provoking poetry of Jorie Graham, a celebrated postwar American author. Her work questions the value of corporeal life in a world so grounded in virtual reality. Aucoin takes the emotional weight of that question to new depths by setting it to music. Graham’s poetry — scrolling on a projector above the musicians — becomes the narrative for the story being played on stage. 

The performance was directed by Peter Sellars, a highly acclaimed American director of provocative stagings of operas and plays. Known for his groundbreaking and transformative interpretations of both classical and contemporary works, Sellars supported the poetry and musicians with dramatic and captivating lighting. Over the course of the performance, the audience witnessed a kaleidoscope of colors in every shade of the rainbow. It was a striking visual depiction of the complexity of the human experience described in the work itself. 

Ironically, technology itself is also a featured voice in “Music for New Bodies.” Given that the work exposes its coldness, it seems initially odd that Aucoin would choose to include it. Yet, as the composer mentioned in program notes, music has a surprising ability to capture simultaneity. Somehow, the human voices on stage lent the technological elements a vitality of their own and demonstrated that multiple truths can often coexist in harmony. 

I was particularly impressed with the blending of sounds. Though there were moments where certain voices rose above others (often highlighted with a spotlight), the musicians exhibited a finely-tuned ability to blend in with each other; thus, giving the impression of a singular multifaceted voice rather than the 23 individuals (plus technology) on the stage. Extended techniques, such as pitch bends in the flutes, were also heard. Especially mind-boggling were the high notes hit by the first soprano, Meredith Wohlgemuth, who seemed to reach up and pluck them from the stars. 

I arrived at tonight’s performance not really knowing what to expect. Contemporary music, by nature, can sometimes be an enigma. However, I was moved in ways I did not anticipate. In recent years, I’ve sometimes been baffled by human resilience in the face of the continuous barrage of violence, political division, genocide, war, poverty, climate change, and pandemics we’ve experienced throughout history. We continue to plan for the future and live our lives as if nothing out of the ordinary has occurred.

In recent years the rise of technology has also swept an additional cold wave of despair and fear-mongering across the globe. The same tools that chopped down spatial and language barriers between us have cracked deeper fissures in our humanity by removing the need for real human interaction. 

Perhaps my feeling is the result of a quarter-life crisis and will resolve with a few more years of experience. Or, perhaps, it is a more innately human question that I am not alone contemplating. “Music for New Bodies” suggested the latter may be the reality. 

It certainly seemed that I was not the only one enraptured by this performance. The final crescendo bellowed off the stage, buzzed around a palpably eager audience, and settled into the most magically long pause I have ever heard following a piece. This was broken only by a resounding applause.

“Music for New Bodies” is a bold examination of the strength of the human spirit and its determination for survival. It reminds us of our impermanence, of the arrogance in believing we are the most important entity that exists. The grounding nature of our planet demands acknowledgement of our role in the world and provides reassurance that despite what happens in our lifetime, good or bad, we are connected by a much bigger force that will exist long after we are gone.