2 flutes doubling piccolos, alto flute; 2 oboes – second doubles English horn; 2 clarinets – second doubles bass clarinet; 2 bassoons, 2 horns, 2 trumpets, trombone, harp, piano, percussion, strings.

Arachne’s Busy Shopping Day – Dance Movement for Orchestra

Arachne lived in Maeonia in the time of myths.  Though of low birth, she has a high opinion of herself, due to her skill and renown as a weaver.  Her talent may have been great, but her intellect was not; the praise of her work made her so confident that she challenged the goddess Minerva in a spinning contest.   If Arachne had been as dexterous with her brain as with her fingers, she would have recognized this for the truly bad idea that it was: in those days, you didn’t go around challenging the gods, because inevitably you’d be turned into a stag or a laurel tree or a cow, and life would be considerably less pleasant as you were savaged by hounds, or burnt to death, or flayed alive.

But Arachne had spent all her life at a loom and consequently was not as well-read as she might have been.  Minerva accepted the challenge.  The goddess wove a tapestry showing the peer of the gods, with a particularly flattering likeness of herself in the center.  In the corners were scenes of morals being punished by gods, just in case Arachne failed to grasp the big picture.

Arachne, however, stayed true to form.  She depicted the gods in various positions of rape, disguised as a bull, satyr, flame, shepherd, spotted snake, ram, horse, dolphin, bird, or bunch of grapes.  Everyone loved it except Minerva who, somewhat piqued, sprinkled Arachne indecorously with an herb.

Right off, Arachne’s hair fell out, her nose and ears fell off, and her head began to shrink.  Her body flattened out until her slender fingers protruded as legs from her belly.  Arachne has become a spider.

Arachne thought that this was the end of the world.  She tried to run away, but–ever a bit slow to catch on–her numerous legs would not cooperate and she found herself spinning in circles and tripping over lengths of silken thread.  Dazed, Arachne set out to do what she knew best: untangling first herself and then the thread, she began to spin.  There seemed to be no end to the length of thread, and she lost herself in her work, creating abstract designs of an intricacy which amazed her.  She needed no loom, looping her creations from leaf to branch.  Her work absorbed her and her contentment was complete.

After some time, she looked up and saw a passing fly.  “Who knows what he did to be turned into that,” thought Arachne.  The fly stopped to admire Arachne’s work, lighting on a central point where Arachne had taken particular care with the balance of light and thread.   He paused to salute Arachne and her handiwork, but seemed to have difficulty raising his foreleg.  The more he struggled to free himself, more helplessly entangled he became in the web.

Arachne surveyed the situation.  She considered the desirable dipteron and the mess he was making of her carefully constructed composition.  She considered the rising hunger in the pit of her belly which was, after all, ninety percent of her body.  She made a decision.

And then, Arachne went shopping….