If “N is for Neville who died of ennui” means something to you, this upcoming show from Present Music is a must-see.

In honor of what would have been illustrator Edward Gorey’s 100th birthday, Carla Kihlstedt will present “26 Little Deaths” based on the late artist’s darkly humorous alphabet book, “The Gnashlycrumb Tinies.” 

"26 Little Deaths" is one of four pieces in “Into The Wild,” a world premiere event taking place Wednesday, March 26 and Thursday, March 27 at the Jan Serr Studio, 2155 N. Prospect Ave.

The show also includes "Copper Canvas" by GRAMMY®-nominated composer Andy Akiho, which explores the number 29 from the Periodic Table of Elements. The other world premiere will be Turkish American composer Kamran Ince’s "Then, Nothing" which asks big existential questions with colorful passion. Plus, Pulitzer Prize-winner David Lang will present a droll, counterintuitive arrangement of Steppenwolf’s iconic biker anthem "Born to be Wild."

“26 Little Deaths” will be the final piece of the evening. Slides of the illustrations will accompany Kihlstedt’s vocals and violin. The performance will serve as an album-release party for the Kihlstedt-Present Music collaboration from Cantaloupe Music label.

"Gorey mixes the mundane, the inexplicable and the macabre. He under-explains, which is the quickest way to engage the imagination of a hungry reader, child or adult," says Kihlstedt.

OnMilwaukee: What about Edward Gorey's work appeals to you?

Carla Kihlstedt: "A is for Apple, B is for ball, C is for Car, D is for dog..." even as a kid, that seemed boring. Disappointing, even. I'm not diminishing things that are inherently innocuous, simple and sweet. But there is no invitation there. It is just fact. These are closed statements that propose no invitation to the reader. We are simply expected to nod and agree. But "A is for Amy who fell down the stairs." Did she trip? Was she pushed? "B is for Basil assaulted by bears." Why did he get so close to the bears? Where was he? What was he thinking? 

You get the idea. So many questions lurk under the surface of Gorey's terse couplets. Each of them always felt like an invitation for me to fill in the many blanks he leaves unanswered. As I kid, I remember thinking "into" the images. And now, as an adult, I finally have the language and the skills to manifest my own interpretations and ruminations of these characters, who have essentially been my lifelong friends. 

What age group do you think Gorey was writing for?

I love that it's often unclear what the age of his target reader is. I remember not liking being spoken to "like a child." My own children, who are now 11 and 15, were the same way. I remember walking along the beach with Ash when they were maybe three years old. A lovely older woman approached and said "Oh, how cuuuute you are!" to which Ash responded, "NO I'M NOT!!"

How did you adapt his drawings to fit with your music?

This began as a Covid project. In the absence of playing music socially and professionally, I returned to the basic building blocks of my own musical language: voice and violin. When Eric Segnitz and David Bloom reached out to me on behalf of Present Music to invite me to write a piece, I had gotten as far as the letter G. At that point, I had already begun craving new colors and textures, so the idea of augmenting the instrumentation seemed like a perfect fit.

In general, I took the approach of stepping not only into the frames of Gorey's images and words, but into the actual minds and hearts of the characters. It became an exercise in compassion in a sense. I put myself in their shoes, which I think was made easier by the fact that this book was one I encountered first as a child myself. That helped me shed some of my adult logic. With the open-mindedness of Present Music, I had so many story-telling tools. Besides lyrics, voice and violin, I had all of their textures, standard orchestrational colors, and experimental/extended techniques and approaches, as well as a really wide array of musical languages to pull from. Nothing was off limits! In answering the question of how to build a sonic habitat for each of the stories, I had an embarrassment of riches.

What do you hope people "take away" from your performance?

I hope that people enjoy the blurry lines between dark and light, sincerity and humor, and that they really enjoy stepping into the worlds of these tiny unfortunates. My intention is not that we pity them, but that we practice our own sense of compassion and empathy. Like all of us, they are exceedingly peculiar and tragically normal, incredibly strong and painfully vulnerable... and ultimately doomed, one way or another.

Tickets for "Into The Wild" are available at presentmusic.org.