Ave Maria was composed in memory of Tío Gerardo, who passed away in 2021 aged just 54. He was a remarkable person, universally loved for his warmth and humor by my family and everyone he ever met. Although he and I had different religious views, we had a close relationship, and I set the “Ave Maria,” one of his favorite prayers, as a way of processing grief.

In this setting, the first choir represents the divine, singing the traditional text in Latin, a language no longer spoken daily but associated with rituals and religion. The second choir (distant or offstage if possible, or a quartet of soloists) represents humanity, performing the prayer in Spanish, as I heard it throughout my childhood.

After the human choir calls upon God with the first word, the divine choir leads the way. The human choir repeats similar material a beat or two behind, creating a smeared texture and harmony. At the climactic, desperate exhortation of “Santa Maria,” the roles reverse: the human choir now takes the lead role. Upon reaching the Amens, the roles are reinvented one last time: the barrier between the divine and the human dissolves for one bar as they come together. In the end, the human choir lingers on.