Tsuzamenbrokh

A Collective Composition by Tsuzamen

The closing musical performance by Tsuzamen at Decomposium is an original composition, inspired by soil horizons. The band writes about their inspiration.

When we look to horizons, we typically look up or out. In Tsuzamenbrokh, we look up and out but also down, using music inflected by the tones of klezmer to dig into the horizons of soil, decomposing and recomposing the Earth, breaking down and building back up. “Tsuzamenbrokh” means “breakdown” or “collapse” in Yiddish, and we mean to reference the threats to people and planet we face but also the regenerative possibilities that emerge from facing these threats collectively, breaking down the collapse and reawakening us to the joys of the sensational.

Paralleling the layering of soil, Tsuzamenbrokh has six movements, one for each soil horizon.

I. O-Horizon, the term for the organic layer at the top of a soil column, open to the air above and alive with interactions of the green and growing with animal life. We portray the O-horizon with an open musical form known as a doina, which has a loose melody and meter that invites variation, improvisation, and interaction. We reference the O both with the openness of the form, but also sneakily by starting with a free improvisation on the oboe.

II. A-Horizon, the term for topsoil where mineral matter mixes with humus, the alive with the dead, each creating the other. From this primal zone emerges the animal, and the pull of sensations that we experience as living beings. Earth, air, water, and the fires of energy all combine here. We reference the A with music centered in the key of A and with these lyrics:

We come from the Earth, we go to the Earth

In between our death and birth

In sadness, gladness, trouble, and mirth

We live these green lives

We breathe in air, we give out air

With each breath the world we share

Together, with our keep and care

Until our time arrives

Feel the primal

Of the animal

The deep pull

Of the sensational

We flux and flow with water and rain

Connecting all in a fluid chain

Linked like lymph in one membrane

Pouring through the pores

We burn and glow with fire and light

In the day and through the night

Looking for what lies beyond sight:

The future’s drifting spores

Feel the primal

Of the animal

The deep pull

Of the sensational

We rot and reek, crack and creak

As we gift the new life we seek

Giving strength as we turn weak . . .

Feel the primal

Of the animal

The deep pull

Of the sensational

III. E-Horizon, the term for the eluviation layer, a transitional zone of leached minerals and organic matter. We begin with a vocal doina and then move into a chant of collective defiance, holding on to life in the face of possibilities that seem to have leached away. We also reference the E and its transitional status with music that moves between the key of E and the key of A, with key changes into G#, before settling finally into E.

IV. B-Horizon, the term for the subsoil layer where minerals and salts deposit. Here we present a peaceful tune that invites memory, and literally inspired a second tune deposited in the middle of the movement. After helping write that first tune, one of us remembered – and remembered learning – the second tune, which has a very traditional klezmer resonance. But we checked with many famous klezmer musicians, and none of them recognized it. It may be traditional, or may one day become that. We reference the B by presenting both of these tunes in B-minor.

V. C-Horizon, the term for the zone of partly weathered “parent rock,” also known as regolith. We sound here gratitude for that which parented us all, a dark and slow remembrance that acknowledges our foundations in the history of the Earth. Although we are beyond the light, there is still joy and energy to build back up from. We reference the C by presenting this melody in C-minor.

VI. R-Horizon, the term for unweathered “parent rock,” or bedrock. We initially thought that this would be the slowest and darkest movement. But when we sat down to write it, something quite different emerged: a hopeful “rock” anthem, centered low down by bass guitar but glistening with sparks that fly upward on slide guitar, violin, oboe, and horn. We end upbeat in the key of D-major with a final call to embrace the sensational.

Tsuzamen is:

Michael Bell – guitar, slide guitar, banjo, and mandolin

Samantha Bosco – bass

Daniel Grabois – melodica and French horn

Meg Lamm – violin

Eleanor Mayerfeld – vocals and five-string violin

Alina Plourde – oboe and English horn