Guest Artists Katherine Jolly, soprano and Tatiana Lokhina, piano will give a recital. Free and open to the public.PROGRAMNo Ordinary Woman (Clifton) 1997 | Gwendolyn Walker (1947) Bones, Be Good! Turning Homage to My Hips Homage to My Hair The Thirty-Eighth Year~Pause~Genius Child (Hughes) (1992) | Ricky Ian Gordon (1956) Winter Moon Genius Child Kid In The Park To Be Somebody Troubled Woman Strange Hurt Prayer My People JoyPROGRAM NOTESNo Ordinary Woman (Lucille Clifton)Bones, Be Good! (the poet) i beg my bones to be good but they keep clicking music and i spin in the center of myself a foolish frightful woman moving my skin against the wind and tap dancing for my life.Turning turning into my own turning on in to my own self at last turning out of the white cage, turning out of the lady cage turning at last on a stem like a black fruit in my own season at lasthomage to my hips these hips are big hips they need space to move around in. they don’t fit into little petty places. These hips are free hips. they go where they want to go and do what they want to do these hips are mighty hips these hips are magic hips i have known them to put a spell on a man and spin him like a top.homage to my hair when I feel her jump up and dance i hear the music! my God i’m talking about my nappy hair! she is a challenge to your hand black man she can touch your mind with her electric fingers and the grayer she do get, good God. the blacker she do be.the thirty eighth year the thirty-eighth year of my life, plain as bread round as a cake an ordinary woman.an ordinary woman.i had expected to be smaller than this, more beautiful, wiser in African ways, more confident, i had expected more than this.i will be forty soon, my mother once was forty.i have dreamed dreams for you mama more than once. i have wrapped me in your skin and made you live again more than once. i have taken the bones you hardened and built daughters and they blossom and promise fruit like afrikan trees. i am a woman now. an ordinary woman.in the thirty eighth sear of my life, surrounded by life, a perfect picture of blackness blessed, i had not expected this loneliness.Genius Child (Langston Hughes)Winter Moon How thin and sharp is the moon tonight? How thin and sharp and ghostly white Is the slim curved crook of the moon tonight?Genius Child This is a song for the genius child. Sing it softly for the song is wild. Sing it softly as ever you can— Lest the song get out of hand.Nobody loves a genius child.Can you love an eagle, Tame or wild?Wild or tame, Can you love a monster Of frightening name?Nobody loves a genius child.Kill him—and let is soul run wild!Kid In The Park Lonely little question mark on a bench in the park:See the people passing by? See the airplanes in the sky? See the birds flying home before dark?Home’s just around the corner there— but not really anywhere.To Be Somebody Little girl Dreaming of a baby grand piano (Not knowing there’s a Steinway bigger, bigger) Dreaming of a baby grand to play That stretches paddle-tailed across the floor, Not standing upright Like a bad boy in the corner, But sending music Up the stairs and down the stairs And out the door To confound even Hazel Scott Who might be passing!Little boy Dreaming of the boxing gloves Joe Louis wore, The gloves that sent Two dozen men to the floor. Knockout! Bam! Bop! Mop!There’s always room, They say, At the top.Troubled Woman She stands In the quiet darkness, This troubled woman Bowed by Weariness and pain Like an Autumn flower In the frozen rain.Like a Wind-blown autumn flower That never lifts its head Again.Strange Hurt In times of stormy weather She felt queer pain That said “You’ll find rain better Then shelter from the rain.”Days filled with fiery sunshine Strange hurt she knew That made Her seek the burning sunlight Rather than the shade.In months of snowy winter When cozy houses hold, She’d break down doors To wander naked In the cold.Prayer I ask you this: Which way to go? I ask you this? Which sin to bear? Which crown to put Upon my hair? I do not know, Lord God, I do not know.My People The night is beautiful, So the faces of my people.The stars are beautiful, So the eyes of my people.Beautiful, also, is the sun. Beautiful, also, are the souls of my people.Joy I went to look for Joy, Slim, dancing Joy, Gay, laughing Joy, Bright-eyed Joy— And I found her Driving the butcher’s cart In the arms of the butcher boy! Such company, such company, As keeps this young nymph, Joy!Audience members are reminded to silence alarm watches, pagers and cellular phones before the performance. As a matter of courtesy and copyright law, no recording or unauthorized photographing is allowed. BGSU is a nonsmoking campus.