Ruth Lomon: Songs of Remembrance


Ruth Lomon

Songs of Remembrance

A conversation with Ruth Lomon

by Johanna Keller

In 1945, as the Allies swept across Europe and the Third Reich crumbled, the Nazi death camps were liberated one by one. Photographs and news accounts forced the world at last to confront and acknowledge the horror of the genocide that had taken place. At the time, it was widely thought that words would never be found to express such inhumanity, and that the experience of such profound suffering lay beyond human expression. In reality, seminal works about the Holocaust appeared almost immediately; Viktor Frank's important psychological treatise, Man's Search for Meaning, was published in 1946, and If This Is a Man, the first volume of Primo Levi's autobiographical memoir appeared in 1947, and many more books followed. This resiliency and urgent impulse of artistic response to that monumental 20th-century tragedy proves the human desire to create a narrative, context, and meaning from reality, however grusomely incomprehensible it may be.

Almost six decades later, new works of history, philosophy and art of all genres are still confronting the Holocaust in the context of a new millennium world that acknowledges genocide as part of our reality. I spoke with composer Ruth Lomon in order to understand her impulse to create this song cycle.

You've described the inception of Songs of Remembrance as being inspired by a year's stay in Jerusalem in 1994 during which you immersed yourself in reading poetry in the Library of the Yad Vashem Holocaust Museum. What has been your history with Israel and did you know in advance what your composition would entail?

I've lived in Israel 1955-6, 1987 and 1993-4. My husband, Earle, is a physicist and we go back to Israel for his work and because we love the country and the friends we have there. At the time of our departure for Israel in 1994, the Oslo agreement had been reached and we were filled with renewed hope for peace. Originally, I intended to compose a song cycle on poems of peace by Israeli and Palestinian poets. But with the return of mounting conflict and tensions, this hope eroded and I turned by thoughts to the subject of the Holocaust.

You also studied Persian and Arabic modes (the Maqamet) with its use of quarter tones, as well as the Segah, used in the singing of the Torah. In addition, you have investigated early Christian music, precursors of Gregorian chant and Armenian church music from the third century. Were there features of these exotic and archaic music languages that you found particularly inspiring? How did you incorporate them into your own musical language?

The embellishments or melismas of the melodic line in the settings of “Mes Yeux,” “Gedale's song,” “Fear” and “Sunny Evening” are influenced by the modes. examples of the influence of early Armenian chants are most noticeable in the cadential material I use in “Mes Yeux,” which was the first poem I set to music; it is also a microcosmos of the song cycle because it contains harmonic and melodic references that are the basis of the work.

The cycle opens with an extraordinary setting of the poem by Nellie Sachs in which the phrase “Wir Waise” (We orphans) becomes a statement of the paradox of the shared solitude of suffering, a central theme in Holocaust literature and in this moving collection of songs. There is the feeling of retelling or reframing what has been said in order to preserve it for the future and counteract this isolation. You met with two of the poets, Berthe Wizenberg Fleischer and Miriam Merzbacher-Blumenthal, who live in New York and Connecticut respectively. How did they react to your project?

I was worried about taking these very personal poems and setting them to music, but when I met with Berthe and Miriam and corresponded with the other poets, they made it clear that they felt it important to have the worlds sung, spoken, whatever the vehicle, so that we keep this knowledge of the Holocaust alive. Meeting Professor Rosette C. Lamont was also very important. She is the translator of Charlotte Delbo's autobiography Auschwitz and after. A resistance fighter WWII, and a non-Jew, Delbo witnessed the execution of her husband, Georges Dudach, a leader in the resistance movement, for his refusal to cooperate with the German Army, and she was then deported to Auschwitz. “Love Poem” is an account of his death. In the words of Primo Levi, new bible, a form of sacred literature.”

Certainly Levi's poetry constitutes one of the central testaments of the holocaust. The two poems of Levi's that you included in this cycle are haunted and haunting, poems in which history—personal and tribal—is repetitious, inescapable and possibly tragically cyclical. In the first poem, “The Survivor,” the speaker begins with the quote from the Coleridge poem “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner”: “Since then, at an uncertain hour, / That agony returns:/ And till my ghastly tale is told / this heart within me burns.”

“Survivor” illustrates the constant replay in his memory of the faces of his sleeping camp inmates and the deep guilt experienced by a survivor. “Stand back, leave me alone, submerged people...I haven't dispossessed anyone / Haven't usurped anyone's bread / No one died in my place”—but the guilt of survival remains.

“Gedale's Song,' also by Levi, is similarly haunted, but here the apparitions are political and historical, in which the Jewish people are “ghetto sheep” and “the cantors / Withered in the shadow of the Cross.” He goes on to connect the Holocaust to the ancient tales of Massada and of David and Goliath. Despite the Jewish specificity of this poem, Levi's refrain, “If I am not for myself, who will be for me? / If not like this, how? And if not now, when?” seems a tragically universal utterance.

This poem is important not only for the clearly articulated historical perspective but in his cry “Brothers, away from the Europe of graves” and in his call to climb together to Israel where “we shall be men among other men,” there is a flow of energy and renewed hope, of rising up once more, as in historical times, which caught me up and I hope I have captured that in the setting of this powerful statement.

The response to the Holocaust—its literature—is multi-dimensional and international, as you eloquently demonstrate by setting texts from different languages—German, French and Italian. And then you add another layer of response with the inclusion of the three poems written by children (“Fear,” “The Butterfly” and “On a Sunny Evening”). What were the stories behind these poems?

The three poems were written by youngsters in the Theresienstadt camp, a supposed model camp created to allay the suspicions of the allies about conditions in the camps. “Fear” is a heart-rending account of the dreaded typhus spreading through the ghetto. “Today the ghetto knows a different fear...” and the fervent cry “No, no, my God, we want to live!” In “The Butterfly,” the dazzling yellow of a single butterfly that alights in the ghetto provides a moment of reflection for the poet; the last butterfly mirrors the fate of the ghetto victims. “Sunny Evening” reflects on the beauty of sun shining on gnarled chestnut trees in bloom and the child's fervent desire to live “If in barbed wire things can bloom / Why couldn't I? I will not die!”

And, in some sense, that child has stated metaphorically the bitter triumph of Holocaust literature itself—that despite the barbed wire and the unspeakable horrors, those written works of testament and witness did survive.

On another subject, I'm curious about this composition's relationship to your works, in which a major influence has been your studies of Navajo mythology, religion and music. You have also lived in New Mexico for a part of every year for the past quarter century. One has a sense of preserving and giving voice to a fragile but vibrant culture—another kind of testimony. Since you don't have ethnic connections to either Native American culture not the Holocaust, did you have a sense of approaching these often sensitive subjects as an “outsider?”

I never felt an “outsider” while composing the music. My empathy with the emotional and spiritual force of the poems made me feel at one with the poet. Perhaps the perspective of the “outsider' better recognizes the universality of the message of the Holocaust—and this perspective may strengthen the message of Levi's “new testament.” This cry for awareness must penetrate far beyond the victims. As I was composing Songs of Remembrance, the daily news reports of ethnic cleansing in Bosnia and Rwanda drove home the obvious—that we must never forget the 20th century's legacy of genocide.

Johanna Keller lives in New York City, writes about words and music, and received the ASCAP-Deems Taylor Award fro essays in The New York Times. She co-edited Carolyn Kizer: Perspectives on Her Life & Work (CavanKerry Press, 2001).


Chor der Waisen

Wir Waisen

Wir klagen der Welt:

Herabgehauen hat man unseren At

Und ins Feuer geworfen—

Brennholz hat man aus unseren Beschützern gemacht—

Wir Waisen liegen auf den Feldern der Einsamkeit.

Wir Waisen

Wir dlagen der Welt:

In der Nacht spielen unsere Eltern Verstecken mit uns—

Hinter den schwarzen Falten der Nacht

Schauen uns ihre Gesichter an,

Sprechen ihre Münder:

Dürrholtz waren wir in eines Holzhauers Hand—

Aber unsere Augen sind Engelaugen geworden

Und sehen euch an,

Durch die schwarzen Falten der Nacht

Blicken sie hindurch—

Wir Waisen

Wir klagen der Welt;

Steine sind unser Spielzeug geworden,

Steine haveen Gesichter, Vater—und Muttergesichter


Sie verwelken nicht wie

lumen, sie beissen nicht wie Tiere—


Und sie brennen nicht wie Dürrholz, wenn man sie in den Ofen wirft—

Wir Maisen wir klagen der Welt:

Wlet warum hast du uns die weichen M¨tter genommen

und die Väter, die sagen: Mein Kind du gleichst mir!

Wir Waisen gleichen niemand mehr auf der Welt!

O Welt

Wir klagen dich an!

Chorus of the orphans (chor der Waisen)

We orphans,

we cry out to the world,

They have cut down our branches

and thrown them into fire.

They have made firewood of our protectors.

We orphans lie in the fields of loneliness.

We orphans,

we cry out to the world.

In the night, our parents play hide and seek with us

behind the black fold of the night,

we look at their faces,

their mouths speak:

“We were dry wood in a woodcutter's hand,

but our eyes are angel eyes

and look at you.

Through the black folds of the night,

they look throughout.”

We orphans,

we cry out to the world.

Stones have become our playthings.

Stones have faces, Father and Mother faces.

They don't fade like flowers; they don't bite like animals

when they throw them in the oven.

We orphans, we cry out to the world.

World, world, why have you taken the tender mothers

and fathers, who say, “My child, you resemble me!”

We orphans resemble no one, no one more in the world!

O world, world, we cry out to thee!

—Nelly Sachs

Fled Germany in 1940, took refuge in Sweden. Nobel prize for Literature, 1966. D. 1970. From “In the Habitations of Death” translated by Katrina Henchman. Available from Suhrkamp Verlag.

A Ceux Que Mes Yeux Ont Vu Partir

Mes yeux vous cherchent

Où êtes-vous mes chers

Envolés dans la fumée

Dissous dans des ciels gris

Où avez-vous disparus

Vous un jour

Déchirés arrachés

Emportés loin de nous

D'un foyer toujours ambulant

Depuis toujours

Vos lamentations vos cris silencieux

Quand ployés sous le pauvre fardeau

Que vous emportiez (Quelques hardes, un matelas...

Attachés à la hâte)

Entourés de policiers comme des criminels

Innocents vous baissiez la tête

Où êtes vous

Vous qui n'êtes pas revenus?

Votre destin est connu d'un monde indifférent

Mais mon coeur vous pleure et vous cherche

Votre tombe n'est nulle part

...elle est dans le fond de mes yeux

To Those My Eyes Have Seen Depart...

My Eyes search for you

Where are you my beloved

Flown away in the smoke

Dissolved in the gray skies

Where you have disappeared

You one day


Taken away far from us

From a wandering home always moving


Your lamentations...your cries...silent

when bent under the meager load

You were taking along (some worn cloths...

A mattress...attached in haste)

Surrounded by policemen like criminals

Innocent you lowered your head...

Where are you

You who never came back?

Your fate is known by an indifferent world

but my heart grieves and yearns for you

Your tomb is nowhere is in the depth of my eyes.

—Berthe Wizenberg Fleischer

Mrs. Fleischer survived the German occupation of her native France hidden in an orphanage belonging to the Sisters of St. Vincent de Paul. She lives in Jamaica Estates, New York.

Translated by Berthe Wizenberg Fleisher

The Survivor

—Primo Levi

Auschwitz survivor. From “Collected Poems of Primo Levi” translated form Italian by Ruth Feldman & Brian Swann. Available from Faber and Faber Press.


—Eva Picková

12 years old, Nymburk. Died in Theresiendstadt. available from Schocken Books, New York.

Der Ewige Segne und Behüte Dich!

Links rechts

Rechts links

Strickt eine mutter

Ein Kleid für ihr Kind.

Links rechts

Rechts links,

Sie strickt ein blaues Kleid.

Links rechts

Rechts links—

`Der Ewige segne

Und behüte dich.

Der Herr hat gegeben',

Links rechts,

`Der Herr hat genommen',

Rechts links,

`Der Name des Herrn

Sei gelobt'.

Links rechts

Rechts links!

Ein Mädchen

Entwachsen dem blauen Kleide,

Links rechts

Steht gesegnet

Und behütet,

Rechts links...

Der Herr hat gegeben

Die Öfen genommen

Eltern und Bruder—

Links rechts

Rechts links!

Links rechts

Rechts links.

O gott, Dein Name sei gepriesen!

Links rechts

Rechts links.

Verherrlicht und geheiligt

Gepreisen und gelobt.

Links rechts

O Gott

Die Öfen!

Gepriesen Dein Name,

Links rechts

Rechts links.

The Lord Bless You and Keep You!

Left, right

Right, left

A mother knits a dress

For her child.

Left, right

Right, left

She is knitting a blue dress.

Left, right

Right, left

`The lord bless you

And keep you.

the lord has given',

Left, right

`The Lord has taken away'.

Right, left

`The name of the Lord

Be praised'.

Left, right

Right, left

A girl outgrew the blue dress

Left, right


And guarded,

Right, left...

The Lord has given

The ovens have taken

Parents and brother—

Left, right

Right, left

Left, right

Right, left

“Oh Lord, Thy name be praised'!

Left, right

Right, left

Glorified and hallowed Praised and extolled.

Left, right

Oh Lord

The ovens!

May your name be praised,

Left, right

Right, left

—Miriam Merzbacher-Blumenthal

Miriam Merzbacher-Blumenthal and her mother survived imprisonment in Theresienstadt. Her father and brother were sent to death camps where they perished. She lives in Greenwich, Connecticut. From “Women of Theresienstadt” by Ruth Schwertfeger. Available from Berg Press.

Translated by Ruth Schwertfeger

The Butterfly

—Pavel Friedmann (17 years old)

Theresienstadt, d. 1942.

Available from Schocken Books, New York.

Gedale's Song

—Primo Levi

Auschwitz survivor. From “Collected Poems of Primo Levi” translated form Italian by Ruth Feldman & Brian Swann. Available from Faber and Faber Press.

On A Sunny evening

—Anonymous child poet, 1944 Teresienstadt. Available from Schocken Books, New York.

Poème Macabre

Squelette, squelette, où vas-tu, que fais-tu?

Tu déambules, clopinant, ridicule, oscillant d'une jambe sur l'autre,

te cambrant pour remplacer l'action de tes muscles desparus,

cherchant à chaque instant à rattraper ton équilibre,

les bras tendus en balancier, en cherchant un appui,

tête ballante, sexe ballant...

Squelette, squelette, où vas-tu?

Tu es nu. Tu crois bien, en entrant ici, toucher au port, au repos,

mais le Kapoi est encore derrière toi à te houspiller, te rudoie.

Un rictus déforme tes traits; tes yeux grands ouverts, étonnamment

béants, ont des pupilles démesurées.

A quoi penses-tu?

Tu penses à ta femme dodue, à sa robe de toile empresée et brodée,

à tes enfants aux cheveux de lin...

Allons, avance encore un peu!

Tu penses à ta noce bruyante, aux violons et aux accordéons,

au cortège joyeux dans les champs de blé...

Tu tombes? Relève-toi! et plus vite que cela!

tu revois les filles aux longues nattes et entends leurs rires,

le soir, dans la grange...

Debout, allons! Tiens, violà le Kapo qui lève son bâton!

Tu penses à la nuit qui suivit, au lit où l'on s'enfornce

et où l'on est si bein, si bien, pour dormir...

Tiens, tu souris?

Tiens, tu es mort?

Poeme Macabre

“Squelette*, Squelette, where are you going, what are you doing?”

You dawdle, hobble about, absurd, jiggling from one leg to the other

drawing yourself up to take the place of the missing muscle,

seeking each instant to regain your balance,

arms outstretched, swaying, seeking support,

head dangling, sex dangling...

“Squelette, Squelette, where are you going?

You're naked”

You think in coming here to reach harbor, rest,

but the Kapo is still behind you, abusing you,

Schnell...schnell...bullying you.

A grimace distorts your features; your eyes, wide

open, stare fixedly with shock, pupils distended.

What are you thinking of?

(You think of your plump wife, of her linen dress heavy with embroidery,

of your flaxen haired children)

“Move forward a bit more”

(You think of your boisterous wedding, with violins and accordions,

of the joyous procession in fields of wheat...)

“You fall? Get up! and fast than that!”

(You see once more the girls with long braids and hear their laughter

nighttime, in the barn...)

“Stand up, get on with it!”

Hey, there's the Kapo raising his club!

(you think of the night that followed, of the bed you sank into

where it was so good, so good, to sleep...)

“Hold on there, are you smiling?

Hey! Are you dead?”


—Francois Wetterwald

Mauthausen survivor, d. 1993

From “Ces Voix Toujours Presentes,” edited by Henri Pouzol. Available from Presses Universitaires de Reims.

Translated by Ruth Lomon

Love Poem

I used to call him my young tree

He was as handsome as a pine

the first time I saw him

His skin was so soft

the first time I held him

and all the other times

so soft

that thinking of it today

is like not feeling one's own mouth

I used to call him my young tree

smooth and straight

when I held him against me

I thought of the wind

of a birch or an ash

When he held me in his arms

I no longer thought of anything.

How naked is

the one who's leaving

naked eyes

naked flesh

of one going to war

How naked is

the one who's leaving

naked heart

naked body

of one leaving to die

On the jail's threshold

the morning of separation

The weather is of parting

of loosened arms

and lips gone dry

The weather is of clean-washed skies

and blooming daffodils.

I used to call him

month of May lover

of childhood days

happy because

I let him be

my month of May lover

even in December

childlike and tender

as we walked clasped

in each other's arms

through the forest

always that of our childhood

we had no separate memories

he kissed my fingers

they felt cold

he spoke the words

words uttered by month of May lovers.

I alone heard them

One does not heed these words


One listens to the throbbing heart

Believing these tender words

will sound a lifetime

So many months of May

throughout the lifetime

of two who love.

One month of May

they shot him.

I envy those

who gave their own

consenting to the sacrifice

As for me

I rebelled

hardly able

to keep from howling in his presence

He needed all his courage

too much

for a young man

leaving his wife

to go on living after him.

I did not give him up

death tore him from my arms

and also this cause

stronger than my love.

For this cause he had to die

for my love

he should have lived.

You think it's easy

to be a woman and not jealous

of another.

You can kill her

but an idea can kill you.

Unable to die with him

I did not die of it.

I wondered

for whom

for whom did he die

for which one of his friends

Was there a living man

deserving of his life

he most dearly loved.

Gently he returned

from whence he disappeared

returned to tell me

he died for the past

and all the future times

I felt my throat burst

my lips wanted to smile

since I was seeing him once more.

you cannot understand

you who never listened

to the heartbeat

of one about to die.

I also wept

because both of us had believed

love was a talisman

it was far worse than losing faith

it was as if I blamed myself

for having failed to love him with greater


My heart dried up

From love and pain

From pain and love

day in day out

it withered


—Charlotte Delbo

Auschwitz survivor, a member of the French Resistance, d. 1985. From “Auschwitz and After,” translated by Prof. Rosette C. Lamont. Available from Yale University Press.

Ruth Lomon's compositions include orchestral, chamber, vocal and solo works as well as multi media works. She has been awarded commissions and grants from The Massachusetts Council on the Arts, New England Foundation for the Arts, The New Mexico Arts Division, National Endowment for the Ar5ts, The Helene Wurlitzer Foundation, residencies at Yaddo and Norlin/MacDowell fellowships. Since 1998 Lomon has been composer and resident scholar at the Women's Studies Research Center, Brandeis University.

Lomon's recent works include Odyssey, a trumpet concerto commissioned by the Pro Arte Chamber orchestra of Boston for Charles Schlueter, principal trumpet of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, which was premiered in 1998, and Requiem for full chorus and soprano solo accompanied by brass and woodwinds, premiered in Boston in 1997 by Coro Allegro. She is presently composing an oratorio, Witnesses for vocal soloists, chorus and orchestra, through a grant from the Hadassah International Research Center.

Songs of Remembrance was composed while Lomon was a fellow of the Bunting Institute, Radcliffe/Harvard in 1996-6. Songs was premiered at the John Knowles Paine Concert Hall, Harvard University, and has since had numerous performances including those at the USA National Holocaust Museum, Washington, D.C., in 1998, and the IAWM Congress in London, England, in 1999, where Lomon Received the Miriam Gideon Composition award for the work.

Her music is published by Arsis Press, Washington, D.C. and Zimbel Press, NY. Her orchestral works are recorded by the Warsaw National Philharmonic Orchestra (Terra Incognita), Jerzy Swoboda, conductor, and the Prague Radio Symphony Orchestra (Bassoon Concerto) Gerard Schwarz, conductor, for MMC Recordings.

A native of Montreal, Canada, Lomon attended the Conservatoire de Québec and McGill University. She continued her composition studies with Frances Judd Cooke at the New England Conservatory of Music and, later, with Witold Lutoslawski at Darington College, England. Lomon spends much of her composing time in New Mexico, where her interest in Native American ceremonials has been a catalyst for some of her major compositions.

Laura Ahlbeck is principal oboe of the Boston Pops Esplanade and is frequently heard in a variety of groups including the Boston Symphony Orchestra, Boston Pops, Emmanuel Church, the Boston Lyric Opera and the Walden Chamber Players. Ahlbeck ahs been a member of the Columbus Symphony Orchestra, the Orchestra Sinfonica de Maracaibo and the Eastern Conservatory of Music, and Boston Conservatory.

Pianist Donal Berman's solo recording The unknown Ives (CRI 811) was named one of the best of the year (1999) by Fanfare and the Boston Globe. Berman is a member of Dinosaur Annex Music Ensemble, has been a League/ISCM soloist, and was a visiting artist fellow at the American Academy in Rome in 1998. He has been featured soloist at Merkin Hall, Weill Hall and Miller theater in New York City, as well as in the “Masters of Tomorrow” series in Germany, La Foce in Tuscany, Monadnock Music, NPR's “The Connection,” and with the Martha Graham and Mark Morris Dance Companies. Berman directs the Firstworks program for First Night Boston and Rome Prize Concerts in New York City.

Donald Boothman has been the leading baritone with the Washington Civic opera and taught on the faculty of The American University. He was cantorial soloist at the Washington Hebrew congregation and Has toured Germany with Herman Berlinski in programs commemorating the “Kristalnacht” and Berlinki's song cycle Return. He has recorded the songs of John Duke, stemming from a long collaboration of premieres and concerts of Duke's compositions. Boothman's performances have taken him throughout Europe, Asia, South America and the United States. Singing in Russian, Czech and Hebrew, his “Voice of America” broadcasts have reached audiences in Eastern Europe. Boothman teaches at Clark University.

Mezzo-soprano Pamela Dellal has sung under such renowned conductors as Christopher Hogwood, Roger Norrington and William Christie, making her Lincoln Center debut under the latter with the Handel and Haydn Society at Avery Fisher Hall. Other ensembles which have presented Dellal include the Tokyo Oratorio Society, the Boston Early music Festival, Aston Magna, the Dallas Bach Society and the National Chamber Orchestra. She has been featured by opera companies such as The Opera Company of Boston/Opera New England, Opera aperta, Ocean State Lyric Opera and Prism Opera. Dellal is a founding member of Favella Lyrica and has made numerous recordings of the music of Hildegard von Bingen as member and acting director of Sequentia's women's ensemble vox Feminae. She has recorded for Arabesque, Artona, BMG, CRI, Dorian, Meridian and Koch International.

Tenor Frank Kelley has performed many roles with the San Francisco Opera Company and the Boston Lyric Opera, and has appeared at the Gran Teatre del Liceu in Barcelona, the Theatre de la Monnaie in Brussels and the Frankfurt Opera. He appeared in the Peter Sellars productions of Die Sieben todsünden, Das Kleine mahagonny, Così fan tutte, and Le nozze di Figaro, the last two of which were recorded by Decca and Austrian Public Television and broadcast on PBS's “Great Performances.” Kelley has sung in concert with the Boston Symphony Orchestra, the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, the Cleveland Orchestra, the National Symphony, the Dallas Symphony, the St. Paul Chamber Orchestra and the Orchestra of St. Luke's. He has participated in the Blossom Festival, Marlboro Music Festival, Pepsico Summerfare, the Nakamichi Festival, the New England Bach Festival and Next wave Festival. Kelley has recorded for London, Decca, Erato, Harmonia Mundi, Teldec, Telarc, Koch International, Arabesque and Northeastern.

Soprano Jayne West has performed with many of the country's leading orchestras and chamber groups, including the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra, Philadelphia Orchestra, National Symphony, Detroit Symphony, orchestra of St. Luke's and St. Paul Chamber Orchestra. She has had a long-standing association with the Boston Symphony Orchestra, performing with the orchestra at Symphony Hall and at Tanglewood. West has sung in recital at Tanglewood's Seiji Ozawa Hall and in performances at Carnegie Hall and Washington, D.C.'s Kennedy Center. West performed with in Peter Sellar's production of Le Nozze di Figaro in Barcelona, Boston, New York, Paris and Vienna, where it was filmed and broadcast for BS's “Great Performances.” She has recorded for Hyperion, Decca/Argo, London Records, MusicMasters and Koch International.

Producer: Jane Ring Frank, Artistic Director, Boston Secession

Executive Producer: William Wolk, Music First

Recording Engineer: William Wolk, Music First

Assistant Recording Engineer: Matt Azevedo, M Works

Mastering Engineer: Jonathan Wyner, M Works

Ruth Lomon would like to thank The Bunting Institute, Radcliffe/Harvard University Women's Studies Research Center, Brandeis University Rosalie Heller and the poets and translators who helped make these works and this project possible.