“A Seed Marks Time” — A new choral work explores human hurry
A poem written early in the pandemic by Lynn Ungar, “A Seed Marks Time,” serves as the foundation for a new choral work (2024) by composer Dale Trumbore that bears the same title. The piece is unapologetically uncommon—to program, to conduct, to sing, and to experience. It asks for patience, attentiveness, and a willingness to sit still in a world that often compels us to hurry toward whatever is next.
Why program this piece now?
Conductor Dr. Alex Koppel chose A Seed Marks Time because it sits squarely at the heart of the Chamber Singers of Iowa City’s second Kindling concert, In the Glow.
“This program is about light not just as spectacle, but as awareness,” explains Dr. Koppel. “Trumbore’s piece asks a deceptively simple question about how time is experienced in nature (how does a seed buried under the earth mark time?), then quietly turns that question back on us. The music moves from curiosity, to restlessness, to an ending that is almost shockingly still. What I love about the work is that the emotional payoff isn’t volume or drama, but attention. The final repetition of ‘Now this’ dissolving into a whisper doesn’t conclude the piece so much as open a space, inviting performers and audience to slow down together. It begs the audience to consider.“
How does the piece speak to our lived experience?
After more than six weeks of rehearsal, A Seed Marks Time has become a catalyst for reflection among singers, particularly around the theme of human hurry.
“I look forward to this piece as a meditation during rehearsal. Thinking of myself like the seed and wanting to slow down, not rush, and appreciate the beauty in all seasons of life.” — Alison Tusick
“The lyrics make me think about how time is less a schedule to keep and more a quiet rhythm that we learn to trust.” — Jana Klauke
“The metaphors of a seed are bountiful—life moves through seasons, we are all seeds, and singing this new music as the ground thaws makes the lyrics especially meaningful. We should all pause more and look up.” — Carolina Isleib
“This piece is the anticipation of spring; it is the first seed catalog in January.” — Michael Jorgensen
“While the piece lasts about eleven minutes, somehow it feels endless in a restorative way and helps me to engage more in the present, embodying the final words ‘Now this.’” — Austen Wilson (Read Austen’s article on “A Seed Marks Time” published in the Iowa City Press-Citizen Music Column, January 29, 2026.)
What does the music demand of its performers?
Preparing this work presents its own quiet rigor. Of the process, Dr. Koppel notes:
“As a conductor, the challenge is restraint and pacing. The middle of the piece becomes rhythmically busy and almost overwhelming, and it has to feel urgent without turning into blur. Then, after all that motion, the hardest task is earning the stillness at the end. Singing that softly takes discipline, trust, and collective nerve.”
Why does new choral music matter?
New music, especially new choral music, asks audiences to expand how they listen. It offers unfamiliar textures, fresh ideas, and the opportunity to leave changed—more contemplative, more aware.
Dr. Koppel shares, “Programming new music like this matters because it keeps choral art honest about who we are right now. “A Seed Marks Time” was premiered in fall 2024, and as far as I can tell it has only been performed a handful of times. That means we’re among its early performances. Audiences aren’t hearing a settled ‘classic,’ but a piece still finding its voice in the world, and that sense of discovery is part of what makes live choral music vital.”
To hear this work live is to participate in that discovery—to slow down, together, and simply say: Now this.