Water Remembers is a contribution to Ann Duhamel’s "Prayers for a Feverish Planet," a project addressing the climate crisis. The title is inspired by a quote from Elif Shafak’s novel There Are Rivers in the Sky, which suggests that water carries the memory of every era it has passed through. The work serves as both a meditation on our ancestral relationship with rain and a warning about the "mega-storms" of our new reality.

I. Prelude

A brief, atmospheric opening that introduces the fluid, shimmering textures that permeate the entire cycle.

II. The God Ea Tells Utnapishtim of the Flood

Inspired by the Epic of Gilgamesh (c. 2100 BCE), this movement captures the moment the god Ea whispers a secret warning of a divine flood to the mortal Utnapishtim through a reed wall. The music is an introspective, shimmering reverie, channeling an "ancient" melody over a gently swaying accompaniment. It is a moment of deceptive calm that hints at the impending erasure of the world.

III. Kun Apanane

This movement depicts the flood myth of the Warao people of the Orinoco Delta. When the people forget to respect the earth, the water god Kun Apanane unleashes a torrent to restore balance.

• The Balance: The movement begins with flowing, delicate textures representing a world in harmony.

• The Warning: The music becomes tentative and mysterious, incorporating stylized birdcalls and the first heavy drops of rain. A central chorale emerges—the voice of the god warning the people.

• The Deluge: As the warnings go unheeded, the music erupts into a virtuosic, energetic storm full of pianistic pyrotechnics.

• The Recessional: After the people plead for forgiveness, the storm recedes. Echoes of the opening return, signifying a hard-won, fragile new balance.

IV. Postlude: Awaiting the ARkStorm

The final movement shifts from ancient myth to modern catastrophe. It references "ARkStorm 1.0," a scientifically modeled "thousand-year storm" scenario for California. Here, the floods are no longer legends, but inevitable realities. An unchanging, relentless ostinato emerges—the sound of our "idle waiting" as we ignore scientific warnings. While echoes of the previous movements float by, the ostinato remains impervious and hauntingly steady, serving as a final, mechanical warning.