Hard Copy

Prélude 1: Con moto - 0:00
Prélude 2: Allegro - 4:24
Prélude 3: Animato - 6:33
Prélude 4: Lento - 9:04
Prélude 5: Agitato - 15:38
Prélude 6: Vivace - 20:11
Prélude 7: Moderato - 24:09

Hungarian pianist Éva Polgár opened the door to our collaboration in 2017, at which time I thought it would be fun to write a collection of piano pieces based on images of Hungary from someone who had never been there. While humorous at first, I nonetheless closed my eyes and imagined…

I walked cobble stone roads, and listened to the stories of the old walls. I sat in quiet empty cathedrals, closed my eyes, and I felt the warmth of the light bathing me from the vaulted windows above. I waded through streets filled with dancing and unbridled joviality. I felt the weight of war, grief, and hunger.

In the summer of 2020 when beginning the process of notating my Hungarian images and needing more inspiration, I came across some biographical sketches of my Great Great Grandmother Karen Marie Sorensen who immigrated to the United States from Denmark. Her childhood was particularly difficult, and she was forced to beg for food, detailed in her words below:

"My childhood days were not very pleasant. I did not know what it was to have all I could eat. Very often I had to go from door to door to ask for food for myself and younger brothers and sisters. Some of the people were very kind and would give me a piece of bread and cheese. My! It did taste good. Other people would set the dog on me. Some would poke fun at me and ask me where I was from. I would tell them. I did not beg much in our town but went to neighboring villages. It was four miles to Soroa (Sorø) City. I made a trip there twice a week on foot. I would start walking about dawn. I was eight years old when I walked that distance. On my way home I would sit down and eat my lunch because I was so hungry. It sure did taste good. I could have eaten all of it, but I thought of my hungry brothers and sisters, for they were as hungry as I. Many a time I would sit down in the snow and wish I could freeze to death. Then I would be out of hardships. Then I would think of my hungry brothers and sisters and would hurry home with what I had begged."

More than anything else, Grandma Karen’s tender story and hardships greatly influenced me and this composition. My Hungarian images dissolved into a musical letter of love written to that little girl in the snow.

Having an eight year old daughter myself, I imagined what it might be like to sit with Grandma Karen, to listen, to feel, and to embrace, wishing I could communicate my deep gratitude for her legacy of faith, courage, commitment, resilience, and love.

In the end, these pieces are images and reflections common to all of us. As you listen, you might hear and see Grandma Karen, feel the gentle falling snow, experience light radiating through stained glass cathedral windows, hear the quiet song of faith, and feel God’s embrace, all amid the backdrop of dancing and chatter in the streets.