LA LLORONA

The idea of composing an arrangement for orchestra of ‘la llorona’, a Mexican classic of uncertain origin, came from Dr. Mónica Palencia, a lawyer and politician acting in Ecuador. She made a suggestion for a concert program dedicated to Valentine’s Day in 2020.

Supposedly a vengeful ghost, la llorona (the “crying woman”, the “weeping one”) is said to roam near water bodies, mourning her children whom she drowned in a jealous rage – when she discovered that her husband was unfaithful. She then was condemned to wander riversides, weeping, after she committed suicide.

The myth could be traced to 1550 in Mexico City, referring to a handful of different characters: sometimes it was a wailing woman crying for food, at other times an Aztec goddess seeking children to keep for herself, also compared to Coaticlue (the Aztec goddess who gave birth to the moon). Other interpretations link her to Lilith (from the Hebrew mythology) or Lamia (from the Greek, a child-eating monster demigod).

As from the music, the folk song was popularized by Andrés Henestrosa in 1941. I chose to apply the Nahuatl text, that differs in essence to the traditionally conveyed Spanish story. I believed that the Nahuatl narrative offered a more direct expression for the emotional pain -often in the context of the Spanish conquest.

Chokani (La Llorona)

kizaya teokalli tonal chokani

ihkuak pano onik itta

kualnezki tlakemitl

uikaliz chokani

tlen tonantzin tik meltoka

ihyo no chokani chokani

chokani uikalli atoyatl

xi tlapacho mo tilmantli chokani

pampa ni mikiz in zeuatl

uekapa ni uellitiaya chokani

ni mitz tlaltin temoliztli

in meztli mo xitzin

tlaliaya chokani

ika tonal ni mitz maka

ihyo no chokani chokani

chokani tlapalli ilhuikatl

intla yeliztli koualkalli chokani

amo kaua ni tlazotzin

ay lara la…

Below is an English translation of the Nahuatl poem

From the house of God, weeping woman

it was there that I saw you pass,

I saw you in your attire, you resembled, weeping woman;

the mother of the Gods – I believed you to be her.

Oh, my weeping woman, weeping woman

Weeping woman take me to the river,

Wrap me in your tilma**, weeping woman,

Because I’m freezing to death.

From a distance, weeping woman

I found you amongst the stars,

In the moon and in a shooting star,

You will hide, weeping woman, and I’ll give you the day

Oh, my weeping woman, weeping woman

Weeping woman, the color of the firmament

Why is it in such a state? Weeping woman

I will not abandon you, beloved

Oh Lara la……

Note: a “tilma” is a Nahuatl word for a simple cloak or a mantle made from coarse maguey (cactus) fiber, designed for daily use.

My arrangement offers the music for strings, harp, celesta, and percussion. The tonality chosen is D flat, producing a dark sound by the strings, which play in 10 voices for most of the piece. Within the last strophe one hears the soloist interacting with a violin in duet, with a strong resemblance to a serenade. I chose to musically write motifs that mirror and depict  ‘crying’ (as ‘piangendo’) in the melodic line -where the ‘ay, lara..’ , right after the last line of the text. The acting of the voice as vehicle of weeping is underlined.

On February 14th, 2020, the programme for the Guayaquil Symphony Orchestra included Tchaikovsky’s “Romeo and Juliet”, the Balcony scene music from Prokofiev’s Ballet of the same title, my transcription for orchestra of Michel Legrand’s “Summer of 42”, Debussy’s “Clair de Lune” played by me on the piano, and my “Motet-lullaby” from my Faust Symphony.