Seven songs for mezzo and piano
22 minutes
Newspaper articles by Judith Martin (Miss Manners)
Performed 12 September 1998, Cosmos Club, Washington, D.C.; Phyllis
Pancella, mezzo; Tim Hoekman, piano

In 1995, three years before this work was premiered, I received a letter from Robert Martin, the husband of Miss Manners, saying that I was his wife's favorite living composer (I had met them both briefly at Wolftrap several years earlier during a performance of Postcard from Morocco) and that he wished to celebrate her sixtieth birthday in 1998 with a surprise: a cycle of songs based on excerpts from her advice column. Would I accept such a commission? Thus began a correspondence that would stretch out over twenty months. Although it seemed like a harebrained idea, I didn't want to hurt his feelings, so I begged off by saying I was very busy with an opera that would keep me tied up for the next year or two. Six months later he wrote and asked if I was still tied up. Yes, I was. The following year he wrote again: was I still tied up and, even if so, was there any chance I might somehow fulfill his request before September 1998? This time I attempted to dodge the matter by letting him know that a cycle running some twenty-five minutes could be a very costly birthday present, even for a member of the Esterhazy clan. He was not to be denied. How much? he asked. I quoted him the fairly substantial figure, thinking that would surely frighten him off and end the discussion. Contrary to expectations, he was delighted, agreed to the fee, and sent me four large anthologies of his wife's writings.

Now I was stuck. I browsed through the volumes: articles on the correct behavior to be followed at weddings, funerals, restaurants, theaters. I hastily scanned all these with a sinking heart, trying to invent still another excuse to pull out of the semicommitment I had unwittingly gotten myself into, when I came across one of her columns giving advice on how to behave at the ballet. Unlike her famous predecessors, such as Emily Post, Miss Manners's counsel is lighthearted, delightful, and witty. Gradually an idea began to coalesce, and I searched the more than one thousand pages thoroughly until I found what I hoped might be there: advice on how to behave at the opera, at the symphony, at a concert of contemporary music, at a church recital, and so on. After I assembled and studied a possible text consisting of seven excerpts, my interest began to waken to the task, and by the time I started composing the music I was enthusiastic about the project. As is always the case, once the text was right, composition went rapidly.

The premiere itself was a memorable occasion. Mr. Martin arranged for us to arrive several days early (in order to rehearse, secretly, with Ms. Pancella and her pianist), putting us up at Washington's exclusive Cosmos Club, the local favorite with newspaper people—one wall is completely covered with hundreds of photos of Pulitzer Prize winners. (We were entertained at the club years before by Paul Hume, music critic for the Washington Post, during a Kennedy Center revival of Postcard from Morocco in which Hume's son had a role.) At 3 p.m. on Miss Manners's birthday, one hundred and fifty of her friends and colleagues gathered in the ballroom. Printed programs had been placed on all the chairs beforehand. Miss Manners was aware that a party had been organized but did not know that a new cycle commissioned in her honor was about to be unveiled. It had remained a secret from her and most of the guests. Her husband escorted her into the ballroom to a standing ovation from the guests. The surprise was almost spoiled when she reached for the program on her chair. Mr. Martin quickly confiscated it and distracted her by pointing to where Carolyn and I were seated: our presence there must have seemed surprising to her, but it did not give anything away. All was revealed when the ballroom doors opened again and Miss Manners's favorite singer—Phyllis Pancella—and pianist entered and went over to the grand piano on the small stage. Phyllis gave a truly hilarious performance that was warmly received by all and followed by a very well mannered English high tea.