
The newly minted Almquists savor a romantic and intimate âlast danceâ amid the chandeliers at the end of their reception.
âIN A LOT of Nigerian cultures, there is this idea that nighttime is the time when spirits come out and are alive,â says first-generation Nigerian-American illustrator Briana Mukodiri Uchendu. âThe nighttime is when crazy things happen.â
The nighttime is the setting for The Night Market, a new picture book for readers ages 4-8, written by Seina Wedlick and beautifully illustrated by Uchendu. The book follows the adventures of a young girl as she discovers the sights, smells, and sounds of a traditional, pre-colonial Nigerian night market âfull of wares and treasures, old things and new things, marvelous objects and strange relics.â
Uchendu, 25, was born and raised in Houston and is the daughter of a Nigerian father and a white mother. Each summer, Uchenduâs family traveled to Nigeria and stayed with her fatherâs sisters and âaunties,â who would help look after the children. One summer evening, an auntie took Uchendu to a night market for the first time to get her hair braided and some clothes fitted for an upcoming wedding.
âI remember sitting there for hours getting my hair done and food flying all over the place,â says Uchendu who, like the little girl in The Night Market, was around eight years old at the time. âThatâs the first time I had abacha, and I was thinking, this is really good!â (Abacha is a salad recipe that originated with the Igbo people in southeastern Nigeria.)
At one point, the young girl in The Night Market encounters a joyful, communal celebration, depicted across four full pages of artwork inspired by the drumming and dancing that distinguish traditional Igbo weddings (Igbo, Yoruba, and Hausa are the three major tribes in Nigeria). âAt weddings, theyâre constantly playing live music,â says Uchendu, who was also inspired by the modern sounds of Nigerian musical icon Fela Kuti while illustrating this scene. âIâm just imagining non-stop drumming and horns coming in and out.â
Throughout The Night Market, Uchenduâs illustrations are informed by her childhood memories of Nigeria and a wide range of West African cultural influences, including Yoruba textiles and architecture. The nighttime skies at the beginning and conclusion of the book are filled with constellations in the shape of spirals, fish, and birds. âI wanted to place this story in a time and place where there is magic,â says Uchendu.âThe symbols in the sky are there to express the consciousness of the people in that time.â
Uchenduâs previous projects include her picture book debut The Talk, by Newbery Honor-winner Alicia D. Williams, a powerful age-appropriate book about a young boyâs growing awareness of race relations and police brutality; and We Could Fly, a dream-like celebration of African folklore and resilience inspired by the song, âWe Could Flyâ by Rhiannon Giddens and Dirk Powell. The Night Market goes on sale Sept. 10, and will be available locally at Brazos Bookstore and Kindred Stories.
Composer Lera Auerbach (photo by Raniero Tazzi)
IN A RECENT televised interview with late-night talk show host Stephen Colbert, Australian singer/songwriter Nick Cave eloquently described music as âone of the last legitimate opportunities we have to experience transcendence.â It was a surprisingly deep statement for a network comedy show, but anyone who has attended a loud, sweaty rock concert, or ballet performance with a live orchestra, knows what Cave is talking about.
That word transcendence appears repeatedly in the program notes for the Houston Ballet company premiere of John Neumeierâs The Little Mermaid, and comes up frequently in conversation with the balletâs composer, Lera Auerbach. Based on the haunting 1837 fairy tale by Hans Christian Andersen, who infused the fantastical story with elements of his autobiography, The Little Mermaid runs at the Wortham Theater Sept. 6-15.
âMusic transcends language,â says Auerbach, whose music easily slips between recognizable classical idioms and more cryptic vernaculars and, like the mermaidâs song, seduces and pulls the listener into unfamiliar and mysterious sonic worlds. âMusic can change and forever alter your life, without you necessarily knowing why.â
Born in 1973 in Chelyabinsk, a large industrial city in Russiaâs Ural Mountains, Auerbach began composing music at age four, inspired by her mother, who taught piano at the Tchaikovsky Music College, and her father, who had a passion for literature. âI would create stories,â says Auerbach, describing her early explorations at the piano. âI would illustrate them with notes.â During her childhood, Chelyabinsk was a âclosed city,â meaning no foreigners were allowed to enter it. Scientific experiments took place along the cityâs borders, and Chelyabinsk became one of the most polluted and radioactive cities in the world. However, as is sometimes the case in such oppressive environments, there were plenty of opportunities for Auerbach to hear great classical music, including concerts by pianist Sviatoslav Richter and violinist Gidon Kremer, who would later record and become an advocate of Auerbachâs music. âMy mother lived and breathed music,â says Auerbach. âWe never missed a concert.â
Houston Ballet Principals Karina GonzĂĄlez and Skylar Campbell rehearsing John Neumeierâs The Little Mermaid (photo by Amitava Sarkar, courtesy of Houston Ballet)
Artists of the Houston Ballet with choreographer John Neumeier (photo by Amitava Sarkar, courtesy of Houston Ballet)
Houston Ballet Principal Karina GonzĂĄlez and artists of the Houston Ballet rehearsing John Neumeierâs The Little Mermaid (photo by Amitava Sarkar, courtesy of Houston Ballet)
In 1991, Auerbachâs talent as a concert pianist and composer brought her to the U.S. for a performance. Before returning, she made an abrupt decision to defect and expand her artistic horizons, even though her mother and father were still in Russia. âThey missed ten years of my life,â says Auerbach, who eventually was able to bring her parents to live in the U.S. and once again take comfort in seeing them in the audience for her performances. (Auerbachâs father passed three months ago. Her mother is still alive.)
The Little Mermaid is Auerbachâs second collaboration with Neumeier, but the first where she was asked to compose music for a ballet that had yet to be choreographed. Their first collaboration, PrĂŠludes CV, used Auerbachâs 24 Preludes for Violin and Piano and 24 Preludes for Cello and Piano for music, and several performances featured Auerbach herself at the piano. The experience gave her âgreat insightâ into how dancers work with music and would help her imagine the music and movement for The Little Mermaid, which began with Neumeierâs one-page treatment of the ballet with approximate timings. âIn a way, as I was writing, I was using my imagination to see how it might be,â says Auerbach. Due to the time constraints set for the 2007 world premiere, the music began as a piano score she composed and played for the balletâs rehearsals. Auerbach describes the resulting orchestral score, which features both solo violin and the theremin as the âvoiceâ of the little mermaid, as âIncredibly complex ⌠and almost impossible to give any justice on the piano.â
Named after its inventor Leon Theremin, who patented the electronic instrument in 1928, the eerie expressive sound of the theremin can be heard in the theme for the British television show Midsomer Murders and in the chorus of The Beach Boys' influential and groundbreaking pop masterpiece âGood Vibrations.â Using one hand to control the pitch, and the other for the volume, the performerâs gestures are detected by the instrumentâs antennae and transformed into sounds that seem to be pulled out of thin air.
âItâs an extraordinarily difficult instrument to play well,â says Auerbach. âItâs almost like meditation because you have to control everything, including your breathing.â After the premiere of The Little Mermaid, Auerbach received a theremin from Moog Music as a thank you for bringing attention to the instrument but has yet to attempt to play it. (Darryl Kubian will play the theremin for the Houston Ballet performances.)
Returning to the subject of transcendence, Auerbach points out that the protagonist of The Little Mermaid, a young, beautiful girl with scales and a fishtail, who leaves the sanctuary of her undersea home to covet the unrequited love of a handsome prince, discovers her true essence by betraying and rising above her nature. âMermaids are murderous creatures,â laughs Auerbach. âBut she transcends all of that. Sheâs a mermaid, sheâs a human, sheâs a creature of the air. ⌠Sheâs Andersen, and sheâs every one of us who made sacrifices for something we felt was the right thing to do.â