To The Uttermost Parts
2022 (10:00)
Text by Wally Gunn
Solo percussion with speaking voice
Commissioned by Eric Shuster

In the last two years, many people found themselves spending extended periods of time at home, working or not working, perhaps alone, and trying to find ways of marking time as one day blurred into the next. These times of isolation can be difficult, and I began to wonder how others throughout history have handled solitude and silence. In the monastic traditions of Western Europe, monks utilized the Book of Hours, which would guide them through each day with prayers drawn from the Psalms of the Old Testament. I wondered if I could create a piece of music that somehow emulated that marking of time. I scoured the Psalms, collecting moments of lyricism and vivid imagery, and used a cut-up technique to reassemble the words, and create a secular poem of my own. The structure fell into eight stanzas that served as analogs to the eight canonical hours of Lauds, Prime, Terce, Sext, Nones, Vespers, Compline, and Matins, from the moment of waking before dawn to the last minutes of the day before sleep. The poem is a meditation on the passing of time, and alludes to the inner trials and triumphs that we regularly experience on a quotidian scale. This piece was commissioned by my dear friend Eric Shuster, and the piece was written specifically for him. I wanted to make use of his remarkable talents: for rendering text beautifully as a speaker; and for bringing music to life with sensitivity as a percussionist.

— Wally Gunn, 2022

To The Uttermost Parts

Lauds
watchmen waketh but in vain
for the terror by night
dragons and all deeps
all creeping things
yea at midnight I will rise
neither slumber nor sleep
set a watch, be wise
to sit up late

Prime
from the rising of the sun
all the days of thy life
whiter than the snow
thy treasure hid
whatsoever pass through
all the ends of the earth
in the south the streams
it shall be well

Terce
in the uttermost parts
of the seas, and of the earth
compass thee around
mountains about
to the excellent whom
yea above fine gold
behold wondrous things
and wondrous works

Sext
and the creatures of the field
every thing that hath breath
cover thee with feathers
flee as a bird
lo, we found it in the wood
not a word in my tongue
of a language strange
a two-edged sword

Nones
dash thy foot against a stone
they labor in vain
weary with groans
my bones are vexed
whatsoever will he do
a tempest shall rain
vapors ascend
footsteps slip

Vespers
the beginning of our wisdom
all the fire and brimstone
days are as a shadow
Petitions made
I will set him in his safety
sweeter even than honey
it shall be a kindness
we are escaped

Compline
here I dwell, I desire it
in the secret places
in the lurking places
our low estate
eyes from tears be delivered
fear make my flesh trembleth
go down into silence
for they speak not

Matins
let the firmament be
hast delivered my soul
all ye stars of light
that are at ease
giveth his beloved sleep
were the heavens made thine
make my bed to swim
like them that dream

First performed by
Eric Shuster

To The Uttermost Parts . Catalogue 143 . Copyright © Wally Gunn . May 2022