This one took me a long, long time to be able to set well. It's the part where Whitman talks about going to the American slave-market (again, this thing was written in the mid-to-late 1800's) and 'helping the auctioneer' since Whitman is disgusted by how the black men there are treated.
Coming from a family who is still kind of mad all the way in 2020 that they took our slaves away, I chewed on this one for a month. How could I possibly be on Whitman's side here, given that he's choosing a non-violent path towards easing the very real human suffering of slavery? I've spent a very long time moving away from my family's generally abhorrent historical view on race, and I didn't intend to slide backwards for even a second--not even for Whitman.
As I thought about it though, I came to reflect on the loved ones who choose to work in the immigrant youth detention centers in Illinois (where the state keeps immigrants under the age of 18 seperated from their guardians in facilities in preparation to deport them, making money all the while), not because they love keeping kids and infants locked up, but so they can offer some real human aid to the kids while working on the outside to bring the whole system down.
I think that this fits well with Whitman's attitude towards black folks throughout the rest of Leaves of Grass, and gives me an angle to perform the recitation from--nothing but contempt for the slavers, nothing but love for the slave.
(It's worth mentioning, though, that Whitman as a person very much did hold racist views consistent with the average white person in the country before writing Leaves of Grass. He also saw abolitionists as extremists trying to bring down the compact of the Union, which is extremely disappointing to me for several personal reasons.)
Hopefully this setting is reflective of what I perceive as Whitman's original intention and respectful of the slave. It took me a long time to figure out, and I hope it works.
lyrics
A man’s body at auction,
(For before the war I often go to the slave-mart and watch the sale,)
I help the auctioneer, the sloven does not half know his business.
Gentlemen look on this wonder,
Whatever the bids of the bidders they cannot be high enough for it,
For it the globe lay preparing quintillions of years without one animal or plant,
For it the revolving cycles truly and steadily roll’d.
In this head the all-baffling brain,
In it and below it the makings of heroes.
Examine these limbs, red, black, or white, they are cunning in tendon and nerve,
They shall be stript that you may see them.
Exquisite senses, life-lit eyes, pluck, volition,
Flakes of breast-muscle, pliant backbone and neck, flesh not flabby, good-sized arms and legs,
And wonders within there yet.
Within there runs blood,
The same old blood! the same red-running blood!
There swells and jets a heart, there all passions, desires, reachings, aspirations,
(Do you think they are not there because they are not express’d in parlors and lecture-rooms?)
This is not only one man, this the father of those who shall be fathers in their turns,
In him the start of populous states and rich republics,
Of him countless immortal lives with countless embodiments and enjoyments.
How do you know who shall come from the offspring of his offspring through the centuries?
(Who might you find you have come from yourself, if you could trace back through the centuries?)
credits
from I Sing The Body Electric,
released May 1, 2020
Walt Whitman: poetry
Matt Riggen: narration, composition, trumpet, trombones, tuba, drumset
I saw the band that's on Bending Bridges live at the Newport Jazz Festival around 2013 and it was the only group there that made me cry. Mary is a fantastic writer and a major influence. Matt Riggen
I'm lucky enough to know Matt and his humility doesn't belie what a deep composer he is, especially on 'Festival'. He also plays tuba and upright on this one, which sets the bar for the rest of us. Matt Riggen
I contributed ~50% of the compositions/arrangements to this record and played in the trumpet section. I believe art can expedite justice by lighting a fire under its audience, and I've seen it here. Matt Riggen