|
NOTES ON THE SONGS
Five Songs on Poems of John Masefield For many months, a small red book of poetry, an acquisition from a long-forgotten garage sale, was my esteemed bedtime companion. The copyright, somewhere around 1919, covered a smattering of the classics up to some poignant poetic reflections on WWI. It was there that I first read Tewkesbury Road and had my introduction to the poetry of John Masefield. I felt that I was strolling down an English country lane in 3D. It was love at first read. John Masefield, born in 1878, was the esteemed poet laureate of England from 1930 to his death in 1967, the second longest tenure as such behind Alfred Lord Tennyson. It is hard to sum up the brilliance of his pictorial imagery, his epic poetry, or his long and notable career in such short confines as these. I was soon to set a section of his poem The Everlasting Mercy for chorus with organ and then to set about the difficult work of culling a small number of poems for a song cycle. |
Tewkesbury Road
Tewkesbury is a town in Gloucestershire, England. The poem is wonderment: a kind of stream-of-consciousness musing on walking down a country lane and taking in all of the visual and aural impressions. The accompaniment is subsequently jaunty and at various times depicts everything from the chattering of the brook, the beat of the rain, lambs at play, and the wide expanse of the sky. My favorite line: “When the stars are mellow and large at the coming on of the night.”
The Wild Duck
The quasi dirge/pastorale introduction to The Wild Duck was originally written some thirty five years ago to a long-abandoned setting of William Blake’s The Shepherd. It seemed appropriate to resurrect it for this poignant poem about the cry of the wild duck, a cry that embodies the painful things they see as they fly all over the earth. My favorite line: “Flying. Flying. Over the globe of the moon. Over the wood that glows.”
Captain Stratton’s Fancy
Yes, another song of the bawdy pirate and an oft-set text of Masefield’s. I tried to depict him as a swaggering fellow, the rolling figures in the left hand almost like a rumbling tuba in a brass band.
Truth
Perhaps one of the most difficult texts I’ve ever set. I see this as a mid-life poem. Masefield wrote it at around thirty six years of age, not particularly old but after he had settled down after a tempestuous time as a sailor-in-training, an indigent wanderer then worker in New York City, and his eventual return to England and marriage. It is a poem of intense retrospection, something I could have never set as a younger man. As with many of Masefield’s poems, it is filled with the imagery of the sea, i.e. ”the waters moan like bells.” My favorite lines: “Perhaps the stars will rise, The stars like globes. The ship my striving made May see night fade.”
Trade Winds
Another popular Masefield text embodying the essence of the seafaring life. It is in the 6/8 time of the sea chanty and features a little inscription at the top: “Homage to C.M.” If you listen carefully, you’ll hear the theme from Zefiro Torna (The west wind) – a masterful aria by Claudio Monteverdi. My favorite line: “The squeaky fiddle and the soughing in the sail Of the steady Trade Winds blowing.”
An Iliad for Emalie
I have collaborated on several works with my friend and most skilled colleague – Bertrand T. Fay. He is a theologian, poet, actor, and teacher of antiquities. The latter is evident in his gift for our daughter – the poem An Iliad for Emalie Taking its inspiration from Euripide’s Hecuba, it depicts a nameless young Greek woman who’s home is invaded in the sacking of Troy, her husband slain, and her being carried off into captivity. In keeping with the spirit of Bertrand’s poems, I cast the piece in the ancient form of a “ground bass” – a repeating melodic pattern in the bass line over which the harmonies unfold. The piece captures the many moods of the poem, including the violence of her capture, with rising dissonance and the percussive chords which signify her surrender.
Three Songs on Poems of Hart Crane
I became acquainted with the work of Hart Crane through and article in the Crisis Magazine, an orthodox Catholic publication, which referenced one of his poems. It was paradoxical, as I was to find Crane’s spirituality to be of a far different order. It piqued my curiosity enough to search out more of his poems and subsequently to get a glimpse of his world. Like Keats, Crane died young (1899-1932) - a supernova of creativity in a restless, profligate, and all too short life.
My Grandmother’s Love Letters
This was one of the first Crane poems I encountered. Crane’s style can be dense and the poetic references oblique but this one seemed a bit more concrete. In the tender reminiscing over old letters found in an attic, one never concludes if the grandmother is still living. “Yet I would lead my grandmother by the hand Through much of which she would not understand.” Poems have multi-layered meanings, unique to the individual who reads them. I feel that this poem has a poignant message for anyone who has seen a loved one fade away from dementia - a slow letting go, all “hung by an invisible white hair.”
Carmen de Boheme
In this poem about the hot-blooded gypsy Carmen (of Bizet fame), it was difficult deciding if Crane was creating a parody or creating a serious character study. I chose to lean toward the former, creating a song that can only be likened to singing a silent movie score. It is filled with musical clichés and, as much of Crane’s poetry, musical metaphors. “The andante of lost hopes and regrets” is my favorite.
The Hurricane
Lord, Lord Thou ridest…rocks smithereened apart.. whip sea-skelp screaming…probably the closest thing to a prayer I found in Crane’s work. With cascading octaves in the piano and crashing chords, it depicts an Omnipotent God, perhaps not overtly forgiving, whose fury rides in the hurricane.
The Last Invocation
I originally set this poem of Walt Whitman as the second in a set of Three Elegies for Soprano. This was written circa mid-eighties in memory of a beloved concert cellist, teacher, and friend – Arthur Catricala. I took Whitman’s poem (one he wrote in anticipation of his own death) and wove the first movement of JS Bach’s unaccompanied cello suite in G major throughout the piece.
Songs for Jack
It was a crisp October morning in Upstate New York when my good friend Bill Cromie called to inform me of his son Jack's sudden death. It was one of those moments when profound news freeze-frames you in time and place. I remember exactly where I stood in our front yard, autumn all around me, simply stunned by what I was hearing. I had never met Jack. Through Bill, I discovered that he was a brilliant young man, a classical scholar and an adventurer. His multi-faceted life belied a courageous struggle with recurrent mental illness. Jack was also a poet and his family compiled his work into a small volume. After his memorial Mass, this little book was offered to all as a keepsake. I asked the family's consent to set a small group of the poems and they graciously agreed.
Three Songs on Texts of Shakespeare
I gifted these songs to a dear soprano friend of mine several years ago. “Life happens daily” and I wrote these over a ten year span. They were premiered in 2010 Alice Tully Hall (NYC) by Soprano Emalie Savoy.
Blow, Blow Thou Winter Wind
“Blow, Blow, Thou Winter Wind” is a poem from the Shakespeare play As You Like It. This poem is an example of a type of figurative language called personification. ... Shakespeare reveals his true meaning in the middle of the poem with the line “Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly.”
Shall I Compare Thee
Perhaps my favorite (as well as my family’s) is #2 – Shall I Compare Thee. On face value, it appears to be an ode from one lover to his lass. In reality, it is a father tenderly speaking to his son and advising him of the various phases and challenges of life. Having four sons, it spoke to me all the more.
It Was a Lover and His Lass
The quintessential Shakespeare song. The song comes from Act Five, Scene Three of As You Like It, where it is sung by the two pages, apparently not to the satisfaction of its auditor Touchstone, who afterwards expresses the hope that "God will mend their voices." One blushes for this song’s bawdiness.
Tewkesbury is a town in Gloucestershire, England. The poem is wonderment: a kind of stream-of-consciousness musing on walking down a country lane and taking in all of the visual and aural impressions. The accompaniment is subsequently jaunty and at various times depicts everything from the chattering of the brook, the beat of the rain, lambs at play, and the wide expanse of the sky. My favorite line: “When the stars are mellow and large at the coming on of the night.”
The Wild Duck
The quasi dirge/pastorale introduction to The Wild Duck was originally written some thirty five years ago to a long-abandoned setting of William Blake’s The Shepherd. It seemed appropriate to resurrect it for this poignant poem about the cry of the wild duck, a cry that embodies the painful things they see as they fly all over the earth. My favorite line: “Flying. Flying. Over the globe of the moon. Over the wood that glows.”
Captain Stratton’s Fancy
Yes, another song of the bawdy pirate and an oft-set text of Masefield’s. I tried to depict him as a swaggering fellow, the rolling figures in the left hand almost like a rumbling tuba in a brass band.
Truth
Perhaps one of the most difficult texts I’ve ever set. I see this as a mid-life poem. Masefield wrote it at around thirty six years of age, not particularly old but after he had settled down after a tempestuous time as a sailor-in-training, an indigent wanderer then worker in New York City, and his eventual return to England and marriage. It is a poem of intense retrospection, something I could have never set as a younger man. As with many of Masefield’s poems, it is filled with the imagery of the sea, i.e. ”the waters moan like bells.” My favorite lines: “Perhaps the stars will rise, The stars like globes. The ship my striving made May see night fade.”
Trade Winds
Another popular Masefield text embodying the essence of the seafaring life. It is in the 6/8 time of the sea chanty and features a little inscription at the top: “Homage to C.M.” If you listen carefully, you’ll hear the theme from Zefiro Torna (The west wind) – a masterful aria by Claudio Monteverdi. My favorite line: “The squeaky fiddle and the soughing in the sail Of the steady Trade Winds blowing.”
An Iliad for Emalie
I have collaborated on several works with my friend and most skilled colleague – Bertrand T. Fay. He is a theologian, poet, actor, and teacher of antiquities. The latter is evident in his gift for our daughter – the poem An Iliad for Emalie Taking its inspiration from Euripide’s Hecuba, it depicts a nameless young Greek woman who’s home is invaded in the sacking of Troy, her husband slain, and her being carried off into captivity. In keeping with the spirit of Bertrand’s poems, I cast the piece in the ancient form of a “ground bass” – a repeating melodic pattern in the bass line over which the harmonies unfold. The piece captures the many moods of the poem, including the violence of her capture, with rising dissonance and the percussive chords which signify her surrender.
Three Songs on Poems of Hart Crane
I became acquainted with the work of Hart Crane through and article in the Crisis Magazine, an orthodox Catholic publication, which referenced one of his poems. It was paradoxical, as I was to find Crane’s spirituality to be of a far different order. It piqued my curiosity enough to search out more of his poems and subsequently to get a glimpse of his world. Like Keats, Crane died young (1899-1932) - a supernova of creativity in a restless, profligate, and all too short life.
My Grandmother’s Love Letters
This was one of the first Crane poems I encountered. Crane’s style can be dense and the poetic references oblique but this one seemed a bit more concrete. In the tender reminiscing over old letters found in an attic, one never concludes if the grandmother is still living. “Yet I would lead my grandmother by the hand Through much of which she would not understand.” Poems have multi-layered meanings, unique to the individual who reads them. I feel that this poem has a poignant message for anyone who has seen a loved one fade away from dementia - a slow letting go, all “hung by an invisible white hair.”
Carmen de Boheme
In this poem about the hot-blooded gypsy Carmen (of Bizet fame), it was difficult deciding if Crane was creating a parody or creating a serious character study. I chose to lean toward the former, creating a song that can only be likened to singing a silent movie score. It is filled with musical clichés and, as much of Crane’s poetry, musical metaphors. “The andante of lost hopes and regrets” is my favorite.
The Hurricane
Lord, Lord Thou ridest…rocks smithereened apart.. whip sea-skelp screaming…probably the closest thing to a prayer I found in Crane’s work. With cascading octaves in the piano and crashing chords, it depicts an Omnipotent God, perhaps not overtly forgiving, whose fury rides in the hurricane.
The Last Invocation
I originally set this poem of Walt Whitman as the second in a set of Three Elegies for Soprano. This was written circa mid-eighties in memory of a beloved concert cellist, teacher, and friend – Arthur Catricala. I took Whitman’s poem (one he wrote in anticipation of his own death) and wove the first movement of JS Bach’s unaccompanied cello suite in G major throughout the piece.
Songs for Jack
It was a crisp October morning in Upstate New York when my good friend Bill Cromie called to inform me of his son Jack's sudden death. It was one of those moments when profound news freeze-frames you in time and place. I remember exactly where I stood in our front yard, autumn all around me, simply stunned by what I was hearing. I had never met Jack. Through Bill, I discovered that he was a brilliant young man, a classical scholar and an adventurer. His multi-faceted life belied a courageous struggle with recurrent mental illness. Jack was also a poet and his family compiled his work into a small volume. After his memorial Mass, this little book was offered to all as a keepsake. I asked the family's consent to set a small group of the poems and they graciously agreed.
Three Songs on Texts of Shakespeare
I gifted these songs to a dear soprano friend of mine several years ago. “Life happens daily” and I wrote these over a ten year span. They were premiered in 2010 Alice Tully Hall (NYC) by Soprano Emalie Savoy.
Blow, Blow Thou Winter Wind
“Blow, Blow, Thou Winter Wind” is a poem from the Shakespeare play As You Like It. This poem is an example of a type of figurative language called personification. ... Shakespeare reveals his true meaning in the middle of the poem with the line “Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly.”
Shall I Compare Thee
Perhaps my favorite (as well as my family’s) is #2 – Shall I Compare Thee. On face value, it appears to be an ode from one lover to his lass. In reality, it is a father tenderly speaking to his son and advising him of the various phases and challenges of life. Having four sons, it spoke to me all the more.
It Was a Lover and His Lass
The quintessential Shakespeare song. The song comes from Act Five, Scene Three of As You Like It, where it is sung by the two pages, apparently not to the satisfaction of its auditor Touchstone, who afterwards expresses the hope that "God will mend their voices." One blushes for this song’s bawdiness.