I was raised in High Modernism, schooled at its capitols, and apprenticed at its temple, Pierre Boulez’s IRCAM in Paris. But what was my voice? The chance to write a first opera for Oberlin Conservatory forced me to follow my instincts in ways I hadn’t let myself before. I don’t know who was more stunned by the limpid harmonies and the da capo arias, my colleague composers or myself. But I knew it was a way of writing that felt honest, and that I had found an approach I could build on. I’ve been building on it ever since.

Apuleius, the fourth century Roman author, created the story of Eros and Psyche as a lovingly rendered work of fiction set in a distant mythological time. Psyche is the most beautiful woman in the world. Venus, the goddess of love, is so jealous that she sends her son Eros to make Psyche fall in love with someone hideous, but Eros falls in love with her himself. He abducts her to a secret palace where he comes to her only at night and she must not know who he is. Frightened by her jealous sisters, she looks at him as he sleeps, he awakens, the palace vanishes, and Psyche is left abandoned in a vast desert. Undaunted, she climbs Mount Olympus and appeals directly to Venus, who sets her many trials, including a trip to the underworld. Helped by various forces of nature, Psyche succeeds in all the trials. Venus eventually comes around to accepting her new role as a possible grandmother. Before an assembly of all the gods and goddesses, she blesses Psyche’s union with her son.

Of course, Psyche is Latin for soul and Eros for erotic love. Combining soulful and erotic love in one relationship has been enough of a challenge through the ages that this story still resonates with me.

– Conrad Cummings