THE HUMAN EQUATION

Composed 2016, by Jocelyn Morlock (1969 - 2023).

“Every day I think, why am I still here?”

(Content warning: The quotes below come from the handwritten flash cards Amanda Michelle Todd held in her September 7, 2012 video "My Story: Struggling, bullying, suicide, self-harm," in which she shared her experiences of exploitation and bullying. Amanda died by suicide on October 10, 2012 at the age of 15.)

Commissioned by the National Arts Centre Orchestra in 2015, Jocelyn Morlock’s My Name Is Amanda Todd is an orchestral elegy that transforms Amanda's words and experiences into a reflective musical response to her tragic passing.

Opening with suspensions and fragile, hovering lines, the work gives sound to Amanda’s emotional pain. Morlock writes that the opening “draws first on overwhelming sorrow."

“I'm stuck” – From this stillness, momentum begins to build with increasing urgency. Woodwinds mimic the relentless noise of the online world, incessant messages and cruelty spreading through social media. Brass and strings join in. As Morlock describes, sorrow “grows into a furtive, somewhat frenzied negative energy, like the uncontrolled proliferation of negative comments and images.”

“I have nobody. I need someone.” – The middle section turns inward. Abrupt shifts of texture and dynamics create a sense of internal conflict, with overlapping motives creating a dense orchestral fabric. A solitary timpani line attempts to break through, a lone voice calling out amid the chaos. The music then collapses into fragility before surging again.

“Cried every night, lost all my friends and respect ... I’m constantly crying now.” – Gradually, the brass take on a role of strength and courage as Amanda advocates for herself. Morlock explains that she “uses almost the same musical material ... and gradually modifies it to create increasingly powerful music,” suggesting the ongoing familiar struggle.

“What’s left of me now?” – As the work moves toward its close, the textures thin and soften. In the very final moments, a lone flute rises upward, like a bird taking flight. It is a poignant conclusion to an elegy for a young person who faced unthinkable harm, opening conversations about a difficult, complex topic while shifting tragedy to the hope of redemptive impact.

Jocelyn Morlock was one of Canada’s leading composers. A prolific artist whose music was described as “lyrical, quirky, and deeply rooted in emotion.” Morlock served as the inaugural composer-in-residence for Vancouver’s Music on Main Society and was composer-in-residence of the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra, the first woman to hold the post.

Program note by Pamela Chaddon.

Composed 2025, by Dylan Fixmer (b. 1987)

Concerto for Electric Cello was commissioned by cellist Becky Kutz Osterberg to bring awareness to and help destigmatize depression and create hope, solidarity and community for those struggling with depression. The piece, in three movements, portrays Becky’s experience with life-long depression from her struggles with feelings of hopelessness, helplessness, guilt, shame, confusion, debilitation and despair to finding hope, purpose, and self-worth.

The first movement, entitled “No Light at the End of the Tunnel,” is framed within a highly modified sonata form with swirling and repetitive motifs and disjunct open melodies which serve to portray the numbness, lack of joy, and the emptiness of depression. Electronic effects such as distortion, phaser, and reverb and extended cello techniques like excessive bow pressure, playing with the stick side of the bow, and uncontrolled vibrato are used to portray feelings of frustration, confusion and debilitation. The first movement also introduces a sorrowful melody used in the second movement as a way to foreshadow the feeling of insignificance and self hurt.

Harmonically, the first movement employs two synthetic modes to create the feeling of “no light” and neo-tonal progressions to portray the orchestra (world) moving forward without the soloist (self).

The second movement, entitled “It’s just me... but who am I,” is an adagio–andante–adagio movement that deals with repression, self hurt, confusion/debilitation, and disconnectedness. Again, synthetic modes are employed to create a lush extended harmonic landscape beneath sweeping soloist melodies. The electronic effects used throughout this movement focus on creating a sense of the vastness of feeling insignificant through the use of echo, distortion and flanger effects. This movement also features the English horn and harp as soloist voices, representing figures in Becky’s life who have helped her in times of need.

The third movement, entitled “Hope, Out of Darkness,” generously funded by North Range Behavioral Health, focuses on the ongoing healing process. This movement utilizes modal expansion in two harmonic areas in a palindromic-rondo form (intro-A-B-A’-C-B’-A-coda). This form is meant to mimic EMDR therapy techniques used in behavioral health medicine and the Tai Chi philosophy of Yin and Yang by portraying the cyclical nature of depression and mental illness and working from Becky’s description of the healing process coming in like “waves on ocean tides.” The electronic effects in the movement include a pulsating effect called tremolo as well as distortion, phaser, flanger and overdrive to illustrate the struggle and difficulty involved in the therapeutic process. The movement ends not with a triumphant splash, but a calming stillness after the last surge, suggesting that mental health is not a point of heroic arrival, but a breath of relief for those brave enough to face the waves.

The performance of this piece is meant to also facilitate a dialogue around the spectrum of experiences associated with depression. By presenting Becky’s personal experiences with depression and her journey through the healing process and utilizing the medium of solo electric cello and symphony orchestra, we hope to offer this piece as a show of solidarity to those struggling with mental illness and as a call to our communities to reconsider preconceived notions about the nature of mental health.

Note by the composer.

Composed 2025, by Erin Spencer (b. 1993)

Written in memory of the victims of the Club Q shooting, the theme for “Somewhere Bluebirds Fly” is built around the melody of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.”

Bluebirds traditionally symbolize joy, hope, and the connection between the living and the dead. I chose the title to suggest a place where hope can still be found if we look closely, even in the midst of grief. The piece opens with a taps-inspired statement of the “Somewhere” theme. The opening melody is made entirely of musical notes that honor each victim: A for Ashley Paugh, C for Kelly Loving, G for Raymond Green Vance, and D for both Daniel Aston and Derrick Rump.

The next section expresses the anguish, though not surprise, that followed the tragedy. I wanted to convey that the local LGBTQ+ community feared the possibility of an act of violence like this. It was devastating, yet tragically predictable.

The music gradually accelerates and intensifies to an enraged climax corresponding to the lyric “That’s where you’ll find me.” As the ensemble is abruptly cut off, the English Horn is left alone, representing the stark loss of friends and family who will never return.

After a moment of silence, hollow chords emerge, pointedly omitting the original pitches tied to the victims. Small melodic fragments materialize as the surviving community searches for connection and support. Eventually, a more hopeful line ascends—the melody of “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” played in reverse, suggesting that even in a world that feels backwards, we can still find hope.

When the original melody finally returns, it is accompanied by a forceful descending line in the bassoon and low strings, representing the adversity the LGBTQ+ community continues to face. The contrast highlights a message of strength in the midst of strife. As the final chord fades, the notes representing the victims overpower it: a reminder to speak their names and carry their memories forward.

Somewhere Bluebirds Fly was originally written for flute choir and premiered by the Pikes Peak Flute Choir. It was performed in Washington, DC in summer 2025 at the Library of Congress as part of the celebration of World Pride.

Note by the composer.

Composed 1814–15, by Franz Schubert (1797 – 1828)

Franz Schubert began writing thirteen symphonies but completed only seven. His Symphony No. 2 in B-flat major is comprised of four movements: Largo – Allegro, Andante, Menuetto, and Presto. The opening theme is based on Creatures of Prometheus by Beethoven, who was one of Schubert’s idols. This symphony is the only composition by Schubert that contains symphonic variations, which can be heard passing between the woodwinds and strings in the second movement.

Composed between 1814 and 1815, this symphony is one of the earliest examples of Schubert’s musical genius. Music came naturally to Schubert, whose mentors and teachers often looked upon him with “astonishment.” He learned to play multiple instruments throughout his youth, including the violin, viola, pianoforte, and organ, but began composing under a choir scholarship at the Stadtkonvikt (Imperial Seminary) in Vienna around 1804.

While still a student of composition, Schubert returned home to teach at his father’s school around 1813. By 1815, he had already completed a large body of works, primarily for solo voice and piano. However, Schubert struggled to find success for most of his life, lacking the financial means to legally marry while also struggling to maintain a well-compensated position in a school or court. Schubert met regularly with a close circle of friends and artists, four of whom were arrested alongside Schubert in 1820 by Austrian police, who were highly suspicious of student gatherings following the French Revolution and Napoleonic Wars.

Perhaps it was this moment that truly inspired Schubert, for it was in his later years that he wrote some of his most successful works, including his eighth symphony, the Unfinished Symphony, Ave Maria, and Erlkönig.

By 1825, Schubert could finally enjoy the prosperity of his earlier years, as his body of work began to be published more rapidly. He enjoyed a few years of peaceful solitude, continuing to compose until his death in 1828 at the age of 31, after battling typhoid fever or late-stage syphilis.

Program note by Jenna Hunt.