Leslie Uyeda – The Sex Lives of Vegetables

Do vegetables have sex lives? According to poet Lorna Crozier, who has written some fifteen texts for as many representatives of the vegetable world, they certainly do. But be prepared to be amazed by the truculent, funny, allegorical and sometimes rather raw (pun intended…) intercourse descriptions of carrots, radishes, potatoes, artichokes, tomatoes, etc., and even a few intruders like melons. Here are just a few highlights:

Carrots : 

Carrots are fucking 

the earth. a permanent

erection, they push deeper

into the damp and dark

Artichokes : 

Artichokes never

take off their clothes.

They want seduction,

melted butter….

Melons : 

It is waiting for you

to rap on its door

waiting to give you

a juicy hello

                                smack!

right on the lips

a kiss so sweet

you’ll keep coming back

for more

To accompany these earthly frolics, veritable vegan fantasies, Vancouver composer Leslie Uyeda has clothed her pen with sounds adapted to the particular character of each vegetable, at least according to the poet’s interpretation. We move from open sensuality to smiling quirkiness through a modern writing style that is tonally expanded, colourful, inventive and spicy. It’s highly accessible and never lacking in humour, reflecting the very nature of the texts. It’s a lot of fun to discover the seductive underside of this olé olé hedonistic garden, and we fully appreciate the simple and zesty prose. I’d have liked to say that the vocal performance matches Crozier’s smiling genius and Uyeda’s musical infectiousness, but the very broad vibrato (like a pumpkin?) of soprano Heather Pawsy ends up being a bore. It’s a shame, because a more agile voice could make these little gems even more delectable.

Also on the programme are four other texts by Crozier from Apocrypha of Light, about women who have long been silenced and to whom the modern world must give a new voice. The First Woman (think of mythical Eve) dares to evoke rape through lyrical art, proof that the world has evolved to the point where it can cope with such a production. Here, Uyeda’s music is more serious than that of the vegetables, as you might guess. But it is just as beautifully constructed, and very sensitive to the inflections of the text. The album is completed by I Cherish and Honor My Mother, an eight-minute piano piece in tribute to the composer’s mother. 

This is the first full-length album to feature Leslie Uyeda’s music, apparently. We want more.