Premiered at the Kennedy Center Feb. 14th, 2022

Katerina Burton, soprano

Amber R. Monroe, soprano

Robert Ainsley, piano

Lyrics:

Pretty girls don’t suffer no fools

We make ‘em, we don’t follow no rules

One look at you, I knew your heart in an instant

The fire in your voice,

How it glittered like a thousand jewels

You line your eyes like a queen

Highlighting cheekbones God already perfected,

Fixin’ your crown, rockin’ your royal armor

From their gaze to keep yourself protected

and step out into the world

Lazy Sundays freestyling by Lake Merritt

Holding court as you’re composing verses

Catch the haters staring,

‘cause they couldn’t bear it,

You knew those eyes could never make you flinch

Brave and bold, we hold each other

Through the hard times

I will always be there in this life

And the next

You know that everyone called you Pretty Girl

You were born to change our whole world

You never left a single soul behind,

Now that you’re our angel,

We’ll never give up the fight

Shone so bright, they couldn’t handle the light,

For those in need, you’d never miss a chance

To find a way to do what’s right

Those were the steps of your life’s brief dance

Pretty girls don’t suffer no fools

We make ‘em, we don’t follow no rules

It’s up to us to keep our sisters safe

Never let this cruel world our spirits break

Pretty girls don’t suffer no fools

We make ‘em, we don’t follow no rules

We hold each other through the world’s heartbrea

Our joy’s the treasure they will never take

There is power in speaking a name

The eternal life it grants

Our people, a priceless treasure

Diamonds of the motherland

Those who would rob our riches

Will be left grasping at sand

Jens & Yasmina Ibsen

Pretty Girl was, in some ways, my most difficult piece to write to date. Not musically—the music flowed easily, and it was a joy to create. But crafting the text was challenging, heart-breaking work. The piece was commissioned as part ofThe Cartography Project at the Kennedy Center, which “seeks to create a musical map of racial hate crimes across America and use music as both a source of healing and a way to open dialogue about the future of anti-racism.” Composer-librettist teams were sought from across the country to write pieces responding to high-profile instances of anti-Black violence in their region. When I was approached by the Washington National Opera to write a piece about the murder of Nia Wilson—an 18-year-old girl from Oakland who was, along with her two sisters, assailed by a transient on a BART train in an attack which claimed her life, and forever marred the lives of her surviving sisters—I was already quite familiar with the subject matter, and felt woefully underprepared to write about something so close to home, as a Black man in America. Additionally, the prospect of writing a piece to adequately honor someone’s memory, especially someone who passed in such horrific circumstances, was daunting. I knew I needed a Black woman’s perspective in crafting a text for a piece like this, and instantly knew my twin sister Yasmina would be right for the job. Also, the dynamic of this piece being a product of siblings, telling a story about sisterhood just felt right to me.

From the outset, it was paramount to me that this piece not be a work of “trauma porn”. I wanted the piece to be centered around joy, while still acknowledging the gravity and the tragedy of what occurred, as I believe joy in the face of overwhelming adversity is a truly revolutionary act. Ultimately, I came at it with the perspective of how I might like to be remembered, were I in her stead. Given that I, as a Black man, have a 1 in 1000 chance of dying at the hands of police brutality, this was a viscerally real perspective to me. Yasmina and I did copious research into Nia’s life, and got to know a little about the beautiful, multi-talented person she was: a cheerleader, dancer, rapper, makeup artist, and, at the time of her passing, a prospective student of criminal justice. Nia was deeply concerned about the ways of the world, and specifically the ways in which Black people are continually denied justice. We worked painstakingly to craft a text which acknowledged the multitudes that made up Nia, while also embodying her steadfast commitment to justice that she had in life, and that her loved ones have taken up in her name in death. Similarly, I wanted the music to contain multitudes; it is a synthesis of all the music I love. You can hear everything from R&B, to jazz, to metal and so much in between. Most importantly, it is a story of two sisters singing of their cherished loved one and affirming the strength of the Black spirit in an unjust world which seeks to erase our bodies and our voices.