Description
I’ve always been fascinated with Medusa, and I know I’m not alone. As a mythological creature and goddess, she evokes so many different emotions: terror, anger, vengeance, desire. She is powerful, viciously wild, and misunderstood. In researching the history of her mythology, I learned why her story remains so captivating.
Medusa was more than a monster. She held power as both a Goddess of Death and Goddess of Life. After her murder, the blood from the left side of her body was deadly poisonous, and the blood of her right side was used to cure and raise the dead. The establishment of the Greek patriarchal world (approximately 8000 to 3000 BC) shifted culture dramatically, and the suppression of women led to the demonization of goddesses.
Throughout the centuries, artists like me have found inspiration in her myth, shown as the manifestation of evil, or the danger of uncontrolled female powers, and eventually as a victim. In the Romantic era, many artists believed she represented “the ecstatic discord between pain and pleasure, beauty and horror, and divinely forbidden sexuality.” (Joan Marler, Re-visioning Medusa, Girl God Books, p. 5)
Today, Medusa steps on this stage representing the untold stories of many women. She is powerful and full of rage, and she commands your attention. Like so many powerful women, the people surrounding her will tell lies and spread falsehoods in an effort to diminish her power. She is terrifying and beautiful ~ but did she seduce Poseidon? Or was she a victim of his desire for her? If we want to know the truth we will have to listen to her.
The members of the wind ensemble play an important theatrical role in this work. They represent our culture at its worst and at its best. They begin by talking behind Medusa’s back, reveling in their own conjecture. Slowly they begin to listen. After they listen, they begin to start a dialogue. Dialogue leads to understanding. Understanding leads to acceptance. By the end, they are allies.
Women are still held to so many double standards, and we cannot control how the world sees us. All over the world, over and over again, we are silenced. We continue to fight for our freedoms. Many of us are angry. Does that make us monsters?
~ Jocelyn Hagen (2024)
Commissioned by the Davis Commissioning Project for the San Diego State University Wind Symphony, Shannon Kitelinger, conductor
San Diego State University Wind Symphony & soprano Susanna Phillips Conducted by Dr. Shannon Kitelinger
Instrumentation
Soprano
Voices (the voices of the musicians in the ensemble)
2 flutes
2 oboes
2 bassoons
3 clarinets in B flat
bass clarinet
contrabass clarinet
contrabassoon
2 alto saxophones
tenor saxophone
baritone saxophone
piano
3 trumpets in B flat
4 horns in F
3 trombones
euphonium
tuba
double bass
timpani + 4 percussionists (vibraphone, marimba, 2 sizzle cymbals high/low, 2 Chinese cymbals high/low, high hat cymbal, snare drum, bass drum, suspended cymbal, 2 low toms, siren) low, 2 Chinese cymbals high/low, high hat cymbal, snare drum, bass drum, suspended cymbal, 2 low toms, siren)
Program Note
Medusa is a composition for wind symphony and soprano solo by Minnesota composer Jocelyn Hagen. It was commissioned by the Davis Commissioning Project for the San Diego State University Wind Symphony, under the direction of Shannon Kitelinger. The libretto, inspired by Medusa by Gretchen E. Henderson, reexamines the mythological figure of Medusa as a symbol of both life and death, challenging traditional portrayals of her as a mere monster.
In this work, Medusa, personified by soprano soloist, embodies the suppressed voices of women throughout history—powerful, enraged, and demanding attention. The narrative questions whether she was a seductress of Poseidon or a victim of his desires, inviting audiences to confront biases and falsehoods that have diminished women’s power across time.
The wind ensemble plays a dual role, reflecting society’s tendency to vilify and silence women. Initially gossiping and speculating about Medusa, they gradually progress from listening to dialogue, achieving understanding, and ultimately becoming her allies. This transformation highlights the potential for societal change through empathy and connection.
The piece resonates with contemporary struggles against double standards and the silencing of women, emphasizing the ongoing fight for freedom and justice. Medusa challenges perceptions of anger in women, asking whether such rage is monstrous—or simply powerful.
Text
Libretto inspired by Medusa
by Gretchen E. Henderson
(for composer Jocelyn Hagen, conductor Shannon Kitelinger & SDSU band)
Don’t Look Away
Shield your eyes
If you must
Face the music
Don’t look away
From echoes
Stories take shape
Whispers, rumors,
Myth—Listen:
If not directly
Facing the sun
Eclipsed, too bright
To see the source
Cast by shadows
(Here I am)
Where horizons
Retreat near
And far, then and
Now: Meet your
Fear. The other
Side of rage is
Grief, silent
Scream of history
Loud as sheath
Skin-deep sword
Unwieldy—
Shield your eyes
Don’t look away
From this sound
As tone mistold
Without consent.
Hear snakes for
Hair. Fill in blanks.
Been there
Done that—
I did not choose
This story
Turned to stone,
Mirror of terror,
Whitewashed error.
It is easy to write off
Rage stuck in time
All surface, no depth
Until snakes leave nests
In advance of a quake
Shifting the face
Of Earth. Listen:
Sirens. If silence
says everything
What has been
Rocked
Seduces as symbol
Reduced to retell
The same story
All over again
Been there
Done that—
Don’t look away!
A body can carry
Injuries over
Generations.
The jury is still out.
And here we are—
Fierce and petrified
By the possible
As Earth spins forward
Human and animal
Flesh-made mountains
Faced with flowers
Seeming snakes
For heirs. The world
Turns rape to rage
to rapt cries
Weeping over
Laughing
The surface cracks
Coming back to
Life. Blood can kill
Or heal to trace
The shape of
Space around
Horizons
Near and
Far, blurring
Now: What comes
Next? Be-
Headed voices
Unsilence—
Sing through gaps:
Don’t look away—
We have more to say.
Blog Post by Molly Fillmore: Lessons from Medusa
Ms. Hagen’s work is unique in multiple ways: the inventive music, the subject matter’s perspective, and the way in which she has the wind players participate vocally by whispering, talking, even crying out at times. There is a moment in the work when one female wind player calls out, “Can you even see me?!”
Can. you. even. see. me. …
Given my experience as a female, this phrase, in the larger context of asking it of the world, resonated so vividly in me.
Molly Fillmore
Reflection- Lessons from Medusa (June 2025)