“A Prayer for Ukraine” begins by plodding, an expression of weariness and sorrow. It could not be otherwise. I asked the cellists to make their instruments groan as they played the opening measures.

Slowly the music finds its way, rising in pitch and growing in courage and strength. At 1:30, when both cellos begin playing double stops (two strings at once), the sound they make is close to the radiance of a male chorus.

At 2:01 comes an outburst of joy, first in one cello, then imitated by the other.

At 2:35 I hear solidarity, a crowd of people standing with elbows locked, heads bowed, determined. The music slowly rises, ebbs, rises again.

At 3:41 comes a moment of hope, as when the sun shines briefly through the heavy clouds, shining on ruined cities, farm fields laden with land mines and the graves of the good and evil and of those who were “just following orders.”

At 6:06 the music seems to be heading toward a major chord, an affirmation, a promise of victory. Then it retreats, goes elsewhere. The ending is beautiful but ambivalent -- not victorious, not triumphant.
There is a feeling of reverence throughout.

Sometimes music can seem very distant from reality and that is a good thing; music can serve as an escape and a comfort. Sometimes music takes us more deeply into reality, as I think this piece does, and that can be a good thing, too.

I am sending this recording to about 100 American classical music radio stations in hopes that they will broadcast it. Free of charge, of course. It is my policy to give away my life’s work to anyone who is interested in discovering it. Perhaps it will find a path, in ways I cannot foresee, to a few of the actual people for whom the piece “prays,” the people of Ukraine. I hope it brings them solace.

To listen to “A Prayer for Ukraine” recorded at WGUC by cellists Jennifer Higgins Wagner and Michael Ronstadt, click the link above.

To see a PDF of the score, click the link above.