Description

Sisters of the Covid Moon
For Soprano, Bassoon, and Piano

Music by Jenni Brandon
Libretto by Karla Linn Merrifield

Sisters of the Covid Moon was created during the Covid-19 Pandemic and tells the stories of women of all ages and backgrounds living through these unprecedented times.  Composer Jenni Brandon and Bassoonist/Soprano Gina Cuffari had been talking about creating a new work where Gina would bring her extraordinary talents of singing and playing the bassoon into one work.  During the Fall of 2020 when the Covid-19 Pandemic was continuing to shut down performances, events, and everyday life, they decided that their project would turn to telling the stories of women and girls during the pandemic.  Women carried a lot of the burden of this time – choosing family over career, becoming teachers and full-time caregivers, and discovering a society that was not ready for such a crisis.  In order to tell their stories, Jenni reached out to poet Karla Linn Merrifield to bring together the words and stories of girls, working women, moms, and seniors in a libretto-style text that weaves together their experiences into this poignant and moving libretto. The music reflects the many stories of these women through a variety of styles, from Broadway to classical, jazz-inspired melodies to opera influences, all blended together in this genre-crossing work.

The initial version of this work for Soprano/Bassoon and Piano was premiered during the 2021 International Double Reed Society Virtual Symposium and the score and part for this two-performer work is available HERE.

Watch the recording of the Soprano/Bassoon and Piano version
with Gina Cuffari and Tom Cuffari

Read the libretto:

Sisters of the Covid Moon

Libretto by Karla Linn Merrifield

(used with permission)

 

You and me, sister;

you and me, sister, truly,

we are all sisters of the Covid Moon.

 

We are the nurses and doctors, teachers, and essential workers:

Sherry, Mary, Barb, Sarah, Zia, Melissa, Shonte, Alana, Yalkim—

 

I’m terrified.

Cases are just skyrocketing.

Safety is not that hard.

 

I’ve never been this exhausted.

I feel like I’m in ‘The Hunger Games.

Our students are getting the virus, and they’re spreading it.

 

Hair styling? It’s a Covid cesspool.

If I worked less, I wouldn’t have money for rent, lights, food.

No income, it’s hard; it’s really hard if you have no savings.

 

You and me, sister;

you and me, sister, truly,

we are all sisters of the Covid Moon.

 

We are the pregnant mothers, single moms, and working mothers:

Monica, Marie, Elvisa, Lizette, Michelle, Jen, Gloria, Andrea, Christy—

 

Stress is pervasive.

It’s year of overwhelming fear.

I get through by praying.

 

There’s no drive-through swab for depression.

Our homes used to be sanctuaries.

I’m trying to be intentional about joy.

I have to be teacher, mom and friend.

It’s a Mobius strip of misery.

We have learned to settle into uncertainty.

 

You and me, sister;

you and me, sister, truly,

we are all sisters of the Covid Moon.

 

We are the single seniors, widows, and married seniors

Karla, Colleen, Enid, Martha, Jacquie, Laury, M.J., Diane, Barbara—

 

What ever happened to sex? My libido rages at me.

I have sat so long my butt hurts.  I’ve become voiceless.

 

My relationship with my spouse has grown more intimate—I’m a lucky one.

Every day we saw something beautiful, blessing after blessing.

Such lucky ones.

 

My best friend died of the virus. I miss him every day. He is irreplaceable.

Hospice, aides, lockdown, death—I do not accept the word widow.

In the end, I was relieved that he passed when he did.

The foghorn releases a deep-throated bell, vibrating along the hollow

highways of my bones.

 

You and me, sister;

you and me, sister, truly,

we are all sisters of the Covid Moon.

 

We are the little girls, teenagers, and co-eds:

Maya, Sarah, Sofia, Alice, Paige, Fatima, Aya, Adeline, Madilyn,

 

Uh-oh! People!

I’m nervous about the ‘bad’ germ.

I go to the lake to watch a blue heron each week in peace.

 

I feel like the world is caving in.

I’m lonely; I miss high school.

These are supposed to be the best years of our lives.

 

I worried I exposed my friends and family.

It’s just really weird.

I feel smothered by anxiety.

 

You and me, sister;

you and me, sister, truly,

we are all sisters of the Covid Moon.

 

We are the hopeful women: (speak 9 names of women who are important in your life.)

It’s a shot of hope, the beginning of the end.

I see that light ahead.

Healing is coming.

 

You and me, sister;

you and me, sister, truly,

we are all sisters of the Covid Moon.