Die Kammersängerin
21 Lieder, 3 ohne Worte
for high soprano and ensemble (2009-2010)
on poems by Ernst Jandl

35 minutes – no.50

Morning. The Kammersängerin slumbers and listens to her breath. The eyes are hearing, the ears are seeing, her mouth opens and closes again. In it lives the tongue with her all-round role. Ears come in pairs, as do cheeks, thumbs, and feet, the navel does not though. And where there is no nose, there is no smell.

Afternoon. The Kammersängerin muses and measures her body. She counts one mouth, two feet, ten fingers, and lots of hair – lots and lots of hair. The heartbeats can be felt up to her finger tips and her temples. Her voice comes from above, she feels exalted, her voice thunders enormously, she feels in shape. From afar she hears birds sing.

Evening. The Kammersängerin practises and discovers her ailments. She makes an attempt on a song: another one, and yet another. Her eye is broken, her ear is deaf, her hand falters. As far as the weather goes, it is a dark day, and even more so from the inside: when does the heart finally switch off? She cherishes falling asleep.

photo: Tailor's Dummy "Gustav Klimt" by Irena S. Tyl