I attended a concert by Itzhak Perlman and Emanuel Ax—two legends, violin and piano.
But as my mind wandered with the music, I spent much of the concert watching the woman who turned pages for Mr. Ax. Tall and elegant, in a gauzy black gown with long sleeves, she sat utterly composed as they played. As the page turn approached, she stood, carefully took the corner of the page, turned it, held her finger for the slightest moment, then sat back down. The exact same, utterly elegant movement each time.
At the time, I was simply captivated by her presence. In the days that followed, I imagined a woman whose life revolved around turning pages. Two sides to her nature, two kinds of lives, which she switched between as easily as turning a page.
The poem demanded the unusual two-column format you see below. The columns read directly down, yet speak to each other across the divide. How could they not? One woman, different lives.
When I began having the poem read aloud, I recruited two female voices, trading a few lines at a time, each telling her own story. It was my delight in hearing this poem performed with two voices that led me to explore presenting more of my poems through multiple voices. This path led to the stage performance of my poems.
