all music composed by Gregg Kallor

The Tell-Tale Heart is the premiere recording of American composer Gregg Kallor’s acclaimed adaptation of Edgar Allan Poe's chilling short story, performed by the composer with soprano Melody Moore and cellist Joshua Roman, recorded by GRAMMY®-winning producer Adam Abeshouse. A celebration of music and literature, the album also features the first recording of Kallor’s eleven new song-settings of poems by Sara Teasdale, Elinor Wylie, Stephen Crane, Mark Twain, William Butler Yeats, as well as the young phenomenon Clementine Von Radics' "A Prayer," which Moore premiered at Carnegie Hall in 2016.

I always wanted to compose a musical ghost story that would make listeners feel as if they're sitting around a crackling campfire, deep in the woods. And for a gripping, macabre tale, who better than Edgar Allan Poe?

The world that Poe creates in “The Tell-Tale Heart” is so frightening because we recognize it. Poe brilliantly, and horrifically, invites us to sympathize with the murderous narrator, who could easily be someone we know — someone we trust — who is caring for someone we love.

The narrator’s need to explain, to be believed — to be heard — is so finely wrought that we can’t turn away; we’re beguiled and repulsed by the conspiratorial confiding and furtively joyful flights of fancy, and Poe heightens the suspense through a long, slow build — continually turning up the heat.

All of which made setting “The Tell-Tale Heart” to music a lot of fun.

In composing my musical adaptation, I wanted to pull us deeply into the narrator’s world so that we experience the events as she relives them, and feel what she feels: the hypnotic pull of the old man’s glass eye, pride in how meticulously the atrocious crime is planned and carried out, pity for her victim, giddy excitement and demonic pleasure.

Melody Moore sings with such emotional urgency and piercing directness that she demolishes the divide between performer and listener — she embodies the murderer’s diminishing grip on sanity with thrilling immediacy. Joshua Roman’s hair-raising cello playing conjures an astonishingly vivid specter that seethes with menace — a shadowy presence that hovers on the edge of the narrator’s consciousness like a poltergeist. These extraordinary artists are exceptionally riveting storytellers, and I hope that listening to this recording sends shivers down people’s spines.

Clementine Von Radics’ “A Prayer” gave me chills the first time I read it, and every time since. When Melody asked me to set the text for her 2016 Carnegie Hall debut, I wanted to write something that would let the fragile tenderness of the poem speak, and to give Melody room to do what she does so, so beautifully. Recording this song with her was incredibly special for us both.

I’m deeply honored that SubCulture NY commissioned the other ten works on this album as part of my residency there. SubCulture has been a musical home for me; its warmth and intimacy foster a sense of community and shared experience that make each performance feel like a gathering of friends — perfect for songs, and music of all kinds.

Stephen Crane is a great storyteller. He’s probably best known for his Civil War novel, “The Red Badge of Courage,” and he brings the same keen observer’s eye to his poetry. The poems set to music in these songs paint scenes in which the narrator experiences something shocking, then reflects, and responds — with empathy, and calm swagger. The singer gets to inhabit two different characters interacting with each other, all in the space of about 90 seconds. Crane's writing is cool and somewhat casual on the surface; underneath it’s biting, ironic, caustic, funny, and ultimately very humane.

Sara Teasdale’s But Not To Me and The Wind and Elinor Wylie’s Little Elegy are very personal utterances. There’s scant comfort in these poems, but there is exquisite beauty in their quiet resignation — all the more poignant for being so gently stated.

Warm Summer Sun is the final stanza of Robert Richardson’s poem, Annette, but it’s inextricably linked to Mark Twain, who adapted it slightly and had it chiseled on the headstone of his beloved daughter — where it would gently lull her to sleep forever.

The right words can clarify, heighten, and define our sensations in a way that gives them deeper and more lasting meaning. It’s exhilarating to find those words conveyed so eloquently, so poignantly, so perfectly in the works of Clementine von Radics, Sara Teasdale, Elinor Wylie, and others. The specificity and intimacy of setting words to music has deepened my connection to the extraordinary work of these poets; I hope that this music speaks to you.

— Gregg Kallor

© 2018 by Gregg Kallor. All rights reserved.