An interview with Melissa Studdard, poet and writer of "We Are Love"

The Washington Chorus, in collaboration with Wolf Trap, is proud to be producing Joyfully Together, a vocally-powered community event that celebrates the power of singing. Joyfully Together is coming to Wolf Trap’s Filene Center on September 18th at 5pm. Tickets on sale now for as low as 10$

Today we sat down with the poet Melissa Studdard who wrote the words for not one but two of the pieces being performed at Joyfully Together.

Tell us Melissa, what do you usually start with when you’re writing a new piece? Is it a story, a theme, or something else?

Inspiration varies from piece to piece. With “The Book of Rahul,” it was the story. I was watching the events unfold in real time, and I was so moved I wrote the piece in a flash and did very little revision afterwards. With “We Are Love,” theme was the beginning point. So often, though, it’s something else—an image, a metaphor, a word or phrase.

For me, the starting point is really a form of attraction. In the same way we’re attracted to one person because they have a great sense of humor and another for being a great listener, or one city because of its parks and another for the food, I feel attracted to something that I observe in the world or human nature or language, and I feel compelled to write about it.

What was your experience like working with Eugene, Reena, and TWC on “We Are Love?”

It’s been an amazing experience. Eugene is a ceaseless, radiant burst of energy and goodwill. I love working with him on anything and everything. I honestly have no idea how someone with so much responsibility finds the time and bandwidth to attend to every detail and make every person involved feel valued, but he does it and makes it all seem effortless.

This was my first time working with Reena, and it was a beautiful experience. She’s got incredible creative vision, and she’s very clear in her intentions, which makes her easy to work with. It felt like a dance between us as we navigated the shape of this piece. She hummed for me, and I riffed for her, and we built a musical sanctuary together. She’s an absolutely lovely composer and human.

Is it harder or easier to write words when music is involved?

It depends on the nature of the collaboration.

The easiest two ways for me are when I have complete creative license or a very clear idea of what my commissioner or collaborator is looking for. So, for instance, when Reena started humming for me and got really specific about things like the amount of syllables she wanted in a line or how much repetition she thought would be good, the words flowed quickly and easily. Because she’s a clear communicator, I even had a sense of where I could veer a bit and still stay true to her vision. Another easy project was writing poems in response to Christopher Theofanidis’ Conference of the Birds. The poems were written to be recited between movements, so the music was already done and I was able to let it guide and inspire me.

The harder work is when I’m collaborating with someone who’s not sure yet exactly what they want or doesn’t know how to explain it. They may feel it enough that I can write something and they say, “Keep this part, rewrite this part” and so on, but that makes for more work and more revision. In way, though, even though that’s more difficult, I love it too—it’s a mutual exploration—finding the way together.

When did you start writing? What is your favorite form of writing? Poetry, narrative, something else?

I didn’t commit my writing to the page until I was in graduate school, but I think I’ve always written in my head. I remember riding along on my bike as a kid, making up dialogue, but not knowing that’s what I was doing. When I was in grade school, almost all the authors we read were white males who had been dead for quite some time. I had no idea a living, female human could be a writer, so I didn’t even bother with it until I started reading contemporary authors and began to understand that it was possible.

Poetry is definitely my favorite form of writing. It’s where I feel most free. The beauty and music of it buoys me, and it has a sort of dream logic that is much more compatible with the natural patterns of my thought than traditional, waking logic.

Do you have a particular poet or other writer who you’d point to as what inspired your passion for writing?

There are quite a few, but the one who pops to mind is Audre Lorde. Reading Lorde shook me up and startled me out of a sort of debilitating politeness. She made me realize that it’s not only my right—it’s my responsibility—to speak my truth. She said, “We can learn to work and speak when we are afraid in the same way we have learned to work and speak when we are tired. For we have been socialized to respect fear more than our own needs for language and definition, and while we wait in silence for that final luxury of fearlessness, the weight of that silence will choke us.” I keep this quote near me always, and when I feel that old fear creeping up, that question of what will so-and-so think if I write such-and-such, I read the quote and I’m good to go.

What do you hope listeners walk away with after hearing or reading your words?

Overall, I’d like readers and listeners to walk away thinking about the ways that we as humans are interconnected and how important it is for us to treat each other with dignity, compassion, and grace. I’d be happy if, after hearing, “We Are Love,” people were thinking, “How can I be a conduit of love?”

 Also, getting to know Rahul Dubey in person has taught me that a whole lifetime of choices led to his being able to open his home to the protesters. I’d love for people to walk away thinking, “How I can make those small daily choices and educate myself in ways that would build that life—the life of a person who would open the door?” It takes courage, and I’m not even sure I have that courage, so I’m asking myself these questions too—I am working on building that life.

A note about “The Book of Rahul”

The title of the poem is “The Book of Rahul, Marginalia.” For those who aren’t familiar with the term, “marginalia” means the notes written in the margins of a book. So, the concept of the poem is that it imagines that there is now a new holy text—a book that tells the story of Rahul’s heroic actions the night he sheltered the protesters in his home—but the poem is not that book. The poem is the notes written in the margins of that imaginary book.

Thank you, Melissa! And don’t forget to join us at Joyfully Together on September 18th! Get your tickets today!