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Understanding Considering Matthew Shepard
a journey through the story, symbols, and voices of the work
Considering Matthew Shepard is a contemporary Passion oratorio by Craig Hella Johnson, premiered in 2016 with Conspirare in Austin, Texas. Written in response to the 1998 murder of Matthew Shepard, the work explores themes of humanity, violence, grief, compassion, forgiveness, and collective healing.
Rather than functioning as a traditional biography or documentary retelling, the work moves through shifting perspectives: Matthew himself, his parents, protestors, mourners, nature, the fence, and humanity as a collective voice. The result is less a linear narrative and more a meditation on suffering, remembrance, and belonging.
Johnson intentionally draws from the tradition of Passion settings such as those by Johann Sebastian Bach, while weaving together a strikingly diverse musical language that includes:
gospel
chant
country and western idioms
folk and pop influences
blues and jazz colors
contemporary choral textures
quasi-Lutheran chorales
As noted in the score’s foreword, the work asks both performers and listeners “to see ourselves in the lives of the protagonists and the perpetrators, and, perhaps most importantly, to recognize the presence of the divine in everyone.”
The piece ultimately moves from isolation and violence toward connection, compassion, remembrance, and hope.
Kelly Latimore’s portrait of Matthew Shepard. Image: Kelly Latimore
prologue
prologue
Photo by Steve Liss/The LIFE Images Collection via Getty Images/Getty Images Image: Steve Liss
no. 1 - cattle, horses, sky, and grass
no. 1 - cattle, horses, sky, and grass
The work begins not with tragedy, but with Wyoming itself — its wide skies, open plains, and living landscape. The movement establishes themes of life, nature, freedom, and humanity’s connection to the earth.
The repeated declaration “I’m alive” becomes especially powerful as the work unfolds. Nature here is eternal, expansive, and deeply connected to the human spirit.
The movement intentionally quotes Bach’s Prelude in C Major from The Well-Tempered Clavier, establishing the work immediately within the lineage of Passion music and sacred reflection.
The combination of cowboy yodeling, chant-like repetition, and Bach creates a uniquely American spiritual landscape.
Notecard from Mrs. Babb, one of Matthew’s elementary school teachers about him being bullied.
"Dear Matt,
I finally read your sad note! If kids are still bothering you about your size, please let me know, and I will talk to them.
Did you know: the very best things are often in small packages?
I think you’re WONDERFUL!!
Love,
Mrs. Babb"
Photo courtesy of Gina van Hoof.
no. 2 - ordinary boy
no. 2 - ordinary boy
This movement introduces Matthew Shepard not as a public figure or symbol, but simply as “Matt” — a son, friend, student, and young man filled with humor, kindness, curiosity, and dreams.
Using excerpts from Matthew’s own writings and reflections from his mother, Judy Shepard, the movement reminds us that before he became known worldwide, he lived an ordinary life filled with ordinary hopes for belonging and love.
The movement transforms the phrase “ordinary boy” into something deeply extraordinary.
no. 3 - we tell each other stories
no. 3 - we tell each other stories
This movement acts almost like an invitation to the audience and performers alike.
Why do we tell painful stories? Why revisit tragedy?
The answer offered is simple: we tell stories so that we remember — and so that we may better understand ourselves and one another.
The movement asks listeners to remain open, present, and willing to hear.
passion
passion
The title “Passion” intentionally recalls the Passion narratives of sacred music traditions: stories of suffering, witness, death, mourning, and transcendence.
no. 5 - the fence (before)
no. 5 - the fence (before)
Before the tragedy occurs, the fence stands alone on the Wyoming prairie wondering what purpose it serves.
Its loneliness and vulnerability foreshadow the role it will soon play in history.
The fence eventually becomes more than a physical object: it becomes witness, memorial, altar, and symbol.
no. 7 - the fence (that night)
no. 7 - the fence (that night)
One of the most haunting movements in the work, the fence recalls holding Matthew’s battered body through the night after the attack.
Nature becomes the compassionate witness humanity failed to be. The fence cradles him “just like a mother,” transforming the scene into something deeply sacred and heartbreaking.
Correspondence relating to Matthew Shepard, 1998.
American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming, Rulon F. Stacey's Matthew Shepard Memorabilia Collection.
no. 9 - a protestor
no. 9 - a protestor
This movement confronts the hatred and dehumanization surrounding Matthew’s death, drawing directly from anti-gay protest signs displayed during the funeral and trials.
The movement is intentionally unsettling. It forces us to confront the destructive power of fear, intolerance, and cruelty.
The repeated cry to “crucify the light” suggests that hatred seeks not only to destroy people, but also compassion, understanding, and humanity itself.
The score’s foreword specifically compares the cries of “kreuzige!” to the turba choruses in Bach’s Passions — the furious crowd scenes calling for Christ’s crucifixion.
This reinforces one of the central ideas of the work: Matthew is portrayed not only as a historical victim, but as part of a much older human story about scapegoating, cruelty, and communal responsibility.
Fred Phelps wields placards protesting homosexuality outside the Albany County Courthouse in Laramie, Wyoming, April 6, 1999. David Zalubowski, AP
Pictures taken in front of the Wyoming Union on UW campus during a protest shortly after the murder of Matthew Shepard, circa 1998.
American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming, Wyoming Union Records.
“Angel Action,” an activist group of people dressed as angels with large wings, was founded by Matthew’s friends Romaine Patterson and Jim Osborne to contrast Fred Phelps' messages of hate and intolerance during protests at Matthew’s funeral and the anticipated protests outside of the courthouse for the trials of Aaron McKinney and Russell Henderson. Angel Action's participation in protests was in a silent, peaceful, and loving manner.
no. 10 - keep it away from me (the wound of love)
no. 10 - keep it away from me (the wound of love)
This movement reflects humanity’s instinct to avoid pain and emotional vulnerability.
The speaker resists grief, longing to remain untouched by suffering. Yet beneath that resistance lies fear: to love deeply is to risk being wounded deeply.
The “wound of love” becomes both sorrow and compassion.
A candlelight vigil for Matthew Shepard in New York City on Oct. 19, 1998. Evan Agostini / Getty Images
no. 12 - fire of the ancient heart
no. 12 - fire of the ancient heart
Inspired by candlelight vigils held across the country after Matthew’s death, this movement transforms grief into collective action and remembrance.
Fire symbolizes rage, sorrow, purification, and awakening. The movement gradually expands from individual pain toward communal responsibility.
“His heart, my heart, your heart, one heart.”
The percussion-driven intensity of this movement is meant to feel ritualistic and communal. The score even allows drummers to dramatically enter the stage during the movement, emphasizing its transformation from private grief into collective action and witness.
no. 14 - stray birds
no. 14 - stray birds
Using poetry by Rabindranath Tagore, this brief movement acts as a moment of stillness before the work turns inward toward questions of shared humanity and accountability.
The images of birds arriving and departing, and autumn leaves falling silently, suggest the fleetingness of life and the quiet ache of loss. The final line:
“We wake up to find that we were dear to each other”
becomes a turning point in the work, preparing the way for We Are All Sons.
Russell Henderson, left, and Aaron McKinney in Albany County court in Laramie, Wyo., Oct. 9, 1998. Ed Andrieski, The Associated Press
no. 15 - we are all sons
no. 15 - we are all sons
This movement emerges directly out of Stray Birds, musically and emotionally linking the idea of human interconnectedness with the realization that we belong to one another more deeply than we often recognize.
The repeated phrase:
“we are all sons of fathers and mothers”
acts almost like a communal mantra, dissolving divisions between self and other.
Regardless of identity, background, or belief, every person is somebody’s child. The work rejects “otherness” and instead emphasizes interconnectedness and human dignity.
In this letter, McKinney summarizes what he told authorities after his October 7 arrest in connection with the death of Matthew Shepard. McKinney takes full blame for Shepard's death. He says he told authorities that the two men were drinking heavily at the Fireside when Shepard asked for a ride home. "When [Shepard] tried to get on me, I started kicking his ass." McKinney says that Henderson asked him to stop, but McKinney pointed a gun at Henderson and the beating contiinued. McKinney states "I tied him up" at the fence [actually, Henderson did]. He says he told the police, "at no time did we know he was gay until he tried to get on me." [McKinney, in fact, knew Shepard was gay.] McKinney tells Henderson he is sorry for the trouble he has caused him.
no. 16 - i am like you
no. 16 - i am like you
Perhaps one of the most challenging movements emotionally, this section asks listeners to confront an uncomfortable question:
Could the roots of violence, fear, anger, or cruelty exist within all of us?
The movement does not excuse evil; rather, it calls for honest self-reflection and recognition of shared human complexity.
Protestors marched near the University of Wyoming after the brutal beating of Matthew Shepard in 1998. Tim Chestnut
no. 17 - the innocence
no. 17 - the innocence
This movement mourns the loss of innocence — not only Matthew’s innocence, but humanity’s as well.
It reflects on the ways tragedy changes the world permanently, asking where innocence goes after violence and grief enter our lives.
no. 19 - the fence (one week later)
no. 19 - the fence (one week later)
The fence has now become a memorial site. Visitors leave flowers, candles, poems, and prayers.
What was once the site of violence transforms into a place of remembrance, mourning, and reflection.
...Every time you celebrate Christmas, a birthday, or the Fourth of July, remember that Matt isn't. Every time that you wake up in that prison cell, remember that you had the opportunity and the ability to stop your actions that night. Every time that you see your cell mate, remember that you had a choice, and now you are living that choice. You robbed me of something very precious, and I will never forgive you for that.
Mr. McKinney, I give you life in the memory of one who no longer lives. May you have a long life, and may you thank Matthew every day for it.
-Dennis W. Shepard, Victim impact statement, November 5, 1999
no. 21 - stars
no. 21 - stars
Drawn from Dennis Shepard’s courtroom statement, this movement imagines the natural world accompanying Matthew during his final hours.
Though abandoned by people, he was not entirely alone. The stars, sky, wind, and landscape become silent companions and witnesses.
The score notes explain that the isolated pitches throughout this movement should never align together, but instead be sung and played independently “to create an aural sky.”
Rather than a traditional melody, the movement becomes a suspended atmosphere of distance, helplessness, and cosmic witness.
The stars cannot intervene — they can only remain present.
no. 23 - in need of breath
no. 23 - in need of breath
This movement is one of the clearest moments where Matthew is portrayed less as a literal character and more as a spiritual presence. Drawing from the mystical poetry of Hafiz, the text transforms suffering into radiance, portraying the soul as an “unset jewel” yearning for divine connection.
no. 24 - gently rest (deer lullaby)
no. 24 - gently rest (deer lullaby)
A lullaby of comfort and release, this movement imagines creation itself caring for Matthew.
Inspired by reports that a deer remained near him through the night, the piece portrays nature as compassionate guardian and witness.
no. 26 - deer song
no. 26 - deer song
The deer becomes a guide leading Matthew toward peace, belonging, and rest.
Themes of homecoming, healing, and reconciliation emerge as Matthew finally finds the acceptance and safety he longed for throughout his life.
The fence where Matthew Shepard was left no longer stands in Laramie, Wyoming. Tony Webster/Flickr
no. 28 - the fence (after) / the wind
no. 28 - the fence (after) / the wind
Though the physical fence is eventually torn down, memory remains.
The winds carry the voices and love of those connected to Matthew: father, mother, brother, lover, and community.
The movement suggests that love and remembrance outlast violence.
no. 29 - pilgrimage
no. 29 - pilgrimage
People continue visiting the site years later, turning the location into sacred ground.
This movement combines spiritual texts and traditions from multiple faiths:
Christianity
Judaism
Buddhism
Indigenous spiritual imagery
The blending of traditions suggests that the fence — and Matthew’s story — belongs not to one community alone, but to humanity collectively.
The recurring phrase:
“Still, still, still, I wonder…”
also recalls The Fence (before), tying the work together cyclically.
Students and community members march in Laramie, Wyoming for Matthew Shepard and tolerance, undated. American Heritage Center, University of Wyoming, Matthew Shepard Collection.
epilouge
epilouge
no. 30 - meet me here
no. 30 - meet me here
Musically and emotionally, this movement functions as the beginning of reconciliation. The imagery of mountains, dancing, and communal singing recalls both spiritual pilgrimage and resurrection imagery.
The phrase:
“where the old fence ends and the horizon begins”
symbolizes moving beyond division, hatred, and violence toward openness, healing, and shared humanity.
A page from Matthew's school journal.
Matthew Shepard Papers Matthew Shepard Papers / Series 1: Shepard, Matthew, Personal Papers / 1.1: Education and Schooling
no. 31 - thank you
no. 31 - thank you
This movement offers gratitude not because suffering exists, but because compassion, memory, and human connection endure despite suffering.
The repeated insistence that nobody is “unworthy,” “ashamed,” or “turned away” becomes one of the work’s clearest ethical visions: radical human dignity and belonging.
no. 32 - all of us
no. 32 - all of us
The score’s foreword describes this movement as the work’s affirmation of “the redemptive power of love and gratitude.”
The sudden appearance of a Bach-like chorale interrupts the gospel textures and connects the ending back to the sacred Passion tradition introduced at the very beginning of the work.
The final message is not centered on Matthew alone, but on collective responsibility:
“Only all of us.”
"Most noble Light, Creation’s face,
How should we live but joined in you,
Remain within your saving grace
Through all we say and do
And know we are the Love that moves
The sun and all the stars?+
O Love that dwells, O Love that burns
In every human heart."
+ text from Divine Comedy, from the Paradiso by Dante, adapted by Michael Dennis Browne
Matthew Shepard Papers / Series 2: Shepard Family and The Matthew Shepard Foundation, Papers and Correspondence Received / 2.2: Correspondence Received
Flower card, one of Matthew Shepard’s Elementary school artworks.
no. 33 - cattle, horses, sky, and grass (reprise)
no. 33 - cattle, horses, sky, and grass (reprise)
The work returns to the Wyoming landscape from the opening movement.
But now the plains, sky, wind, and grass carry the memory of everything that has happened: innocence, suffering, grief, healing, and hope.
The cycle of life continues — transformed by remembrance.
Matthew Wayne Shepard
December 1, 1976 - October 12, 1998
Considering Matthew Shepard by Craig Hella Johnson is presented with deep respect for the original creators, contributors, and rights holders. All quoted libretto excerpts, photographs, letters, archival materials, and supplemental media remain the property of their respective owners and are used for educational, commemorative, and non-commercial purposes.
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