About this Piece

Hands on Me began as a handful of songs that Daniel and I dreamed up in late 2019 while we were developing Agnes, our first opera collaboration, set in Daniel’s native Iceland. The four initial songs—premiered with Crash Ensemble, Ireland’s preeminent new music group, at New Music Dublin in 2020—were linked by the theme of snow, inspired by our shared Nordic landscapes and my childhood in northern Alberta, Canada. 

When we returned to the project after Covid prolonged the time between presentations, the idea of snow became more metaphorical. The internalization of cold pushed the new songs into unexpected emotional and psychological terrain. We let our imaginations wander, drawing from a more expansive palette. A lyrical hook from one of the final songs gave rise to the collection’s enigmatic title, which evokes the different forms of intimacy and violence present in each piece. 

Among the eight songs is a desperate corpse longing for the sensual touch of a living lover; two knights in full armor meeting in an arctic landscape to fight—or not; a woodland gladiator scene that ends in complete carnage; and two disembodied hands that may belong to a winged angel. 

In Mariam Wallentin, we found the perfect interpreter—an artist whose voice is filled with expansive color, joy, and melancholy, ideally suited to these miniature worlds that often dwell in liminal spaces. Each song is like a crocus bursting through a crust of snow in early spring: a flash of color disrupting the white monotone of a frozen existence. —Royce Vavrek

 

“Snowfall” 

Announcing itself,

Peacefully:

Mummifying me.

 

Frozen latticework

Piles on my heavy coat

Mummifying me.

 

A quiet invasion,

Guerilla warfare 

From an infinite place.

 

“Predators”

White canvas, 

Frozen battlefield.

 

Silent hare,

Quiet strides at midnight,

Dampened by gentle flurries.

A gladiator,

Snowshoe feet

At maximum profile.

 

White canvas, 

Frozen battlefield.

 

Forrest stadium,

Teeth bared on the periphery:

David versus Goliaths,

Everywhere predators.

A rush of red.

 

White canvas,

Frozen battlefield.

 

“Points of Inflection”

Point of inflection,

Swallowed in me.

Landslide of ashes,

Volcanic debris.

Tip-toe around the craters you form,

The eyes of your storm.

 

Point of inflection,

Wholly defined:

My love doesn’t love me,

My love isn’t kind.

Where is the confident smile that you hide

Your joy lost inside.

 

You’ll misinterpret

My need to survive

To fault your illogical mind.

No, I’m not innocent

Of personal crimes.

Now someone must draw the line.

Someone must draw the line.

 

Point of Inflection,

And yet you remain.

Loosely I hold you,

My love never changed.

How many times must I whisper goodbye

Please leave me, or die.

 

“Two Hands”

Two hands, not my own,

Scale my body,

Resting on joints,

Tracing my bones.

 

Two hands warm my face.

I see nothing,

But I feel the heat of fingers

Shooting into my cheeks.

 

Two hands cover my ears.

I hear nothing.

Nothing but a song of distress.

 

Two hands feed me,

I taste nothing,

But choke on a dry tongue,

Recalling past flavors.

 

“Are you an angel?,” 

I ask the hands.

“No,” the hands reply,

And fly off.

 

“Sad Song”

You make me sing too many sad, sad songs.

Just another disappointment 

Hung on the walls of my broken heart.

But tears don’t make good works of art.

 

I’m packing up my suitcase,

Big enough for everything I own.

Gotta put my faith in something else.

Broke me down, but I build me up alone.

 

You make me sing too many sad, sad songs.

Just another disappointment

Scribbled in the journal of my broken heart.

I’m burning up the pages, gonna make a new start.

 

I’m packing up my suitcase,

Big enough for everything I own.

Gotta put my faith in something else.

Broke me down, but I build me up alone.

 

“Headfirst”

Headfirst, running,

Boots grow teeth;

Chewing the crust 

the hard-packed snow.

 

Headfirst, I sleep,

While my feet trail behind;

A desperate rhythm… 

Still running.

 

Headfirst, a corridor,

An endless burrow;

Something familiar waits

At the end (of exhaustion.)

 

Headfirst, I dream a dream,

A collage of fighting;

Me against you,

Me against myself.

 

“Nemesis”

Neon-clad,

Glowing bright.

Metal sparks.

Burning nemesis.

 

Rusting armor,

froze to your skin.

Dismounted soldier,

Used to call you friend,

Now my all-time nemesis.

 

Faded foe,

We don’t fight.

Blaze if you must,

For visual emphasis.

 

Knight!  Stand down!

We don’t fight.

Blaze if you must,

For visual emphasis.

 

If one of us should fall tonight,

Forgotten family,

Remember you are older;

My near-death nemesis.

 

Knight!  Stand down!

We don’t fight.

Blaze if you must,

For visual emphasis.

 

Tomorrow we will both retire, 

Warm and happy. 

Call us resting pacifists,

Just two sleeping nemeses.

 

“Ablution”

Light at my feet you place them:

Your fingers calloused, warm to my skin.

You wash away all traces.

Make me pristine.

 

You glide your palms and sigh,

A gift from you to me.

Proof of love.

Your love.

 

Lay down on me.

Lay your weight on me.

 

You kiss my lips and eyelids.

You comb my hair compassionately.

You whisper one last secret,

Lost in my ear.

 

I yearn for your touch,

For what you did to me.

A gift from you,

From you to me.

 

Imprint your love.

Your love.

Press me with love.

Lay your voiceless tongue,

Your breathless lungs,

Lay your weight, your kiss,

a secret place.

Taste me.

Chew through the skin.

Leave all your marks on me.

Scratches, bruises,

The secret unlocked as you…

 

Lay your hands on me. 

Lay your hands on me. 

On me. 

On me.

On me.