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Here is the programme and
the composers' notes ([n]
refer to track numbers):
Three
Folksongs arranged
by Elizabeth Shepherd
[1]
Sweet
Nightingale
My sweetheart come along,
don't you hear the sweet song,
The sweet notes of the
nightingale flow?
Don't you hear the fond tale of the sweet nightingale
As she sings
in the valley below,
As she sings
in the valley below.
Pretty Betty don't fail,
for I'll carry your pail
Safe home to your cot
as we go:
You shall hear the fond tale of the sweet nightingale
As she sings
in the valley below,
As she sings
in the valley below.
Pray let me alone, I have hands of my own,
And along with you sir I'll
not go,
For to hear the fond tale of the sweet nightingale
As she sings
in the valley below,
As she sings
in the valley below.
Pray sit yourself down with me on the ground
On this bank where the
primroses grow.
You shall hear the fond tale of the sweet nightingale
As she sings
in the valley below,
As she sings
in the valley below.
The couple agreed and were married at speed
And soon to the church they
did go
No more is she afraid for to walk in the shade
Nor to sit
in
those valleys below,
Nor to sit
in those valleys below.
[2] Sally
Gardens
It was down by the Sally Gardens, my love and I did meet.
She crossed the Sally Gardens with little snow-white feet.
She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree,
But I was young and foolish, and with her did not agree.
In a field down by a river, my love and I did stand
And on my leaning shoulder, she laid her snow-white hand.
She bid me take life easy, as the grass grows on the weirs
But I was young and foolish, and now am full of tears.
[3] Dashing
away
with the smoothing iron
'Twas on a Monday morning
When I beheld my darling,
She looked so neat and charming
In ev'ry high degree.
She looked so neat and nimble, O,
A-washing of her linen, O,
Dashing away with the smoothing iron,
Dashing away with the smoothing iron,
She stole my heart away.
'Twas on a Tuesday morning…
A-hanging out her linen, …
'Twas on a Wednesday morning . .
A-starching of her linen . . . .
'Twas on a Thursday morning . . . .
An-ironing of her linen . . . .
'Twas on a Friday morning . . . .
A-folding of her linen . . ..
'Twas on a Saturday morning . . . .
An-airing of her linen . . . .
'Twas on a Sunday morning . . . .
A-wearing of her linen . . . .
Folk-song
is a constantly evolving, living organism. Although specific
composers created the melodies they are usually anonymous. The tunes
and texts of folk-songs often vary from one singer to the next, from
one region to the next, and from one generation to the next. Many
different arrangements are still being created. It is this organic
quality that inspired these arrangements; to contribute to and even
influence this process is an exciting privilege and also gives free
artistic licence to the arranger!
Folk-songs
are often woven into our lives and as you listen you may
remember people, situations and places that have been significant in
your life until now. If this is your first taste of folk-song, I hope
you will find them simple, fresh and accessible.
Sweet
Nightingale, based on the traditional tune ‘The Maids of Mourne
Shore’ has come down to us with no record of the original lyricist or
composer, whereas the original Sally Gardens lyrics are by W.B Yeats
(1865-1939). Dashing Away is a traditional Somerset melody whose words
and music are both anonymous.
Note
by Elizabeth Shepherd
Two Folk Songs
- Daniel Basford
Commissioned
(in 2009) in memory of Ulla Taylor,
a member of Hertford Choral Society for over thirty years.
[4] The Rose
A wild rose in the forest,
Grew by a sunny bank,
A hidden fragrant blossom
Beside a mossy nook,
But in the sparkling water
Gazing, she thus did moan:
“What help to me my beauty
If I must bloom alone?”
The sky above her whispered,
“O wild rose, why complain?
Am I not ever present,
In sunshine and in rain?”
The wild rose cried in sorrow,
“Even with sun and rain,
With bright stars and with moonlight,
I yet alone remain!”
[5] Stars
trembling o’er us
Stars trembling o’er us, And sunset before us,
Mountain in shadow and forest asleep,
Down the dim river We float on forever,
Speak not, ah, breathe not! There’s peace on the deep.
Come not, pale Sorrow, Flee till tomorrow,
Rest softly falling o’er eyelids that weep;
Down the dim river We float on forever,
Speak not, ah, breathe not! There’s peace on the deep.
In
searching for material that would provide the musical foundations
for the two short pieces I had decided to compose for choir and organ,
I stumbled upon an online resource of folksongs in the public domain
that included the two songs presented here. Due to the harmonies
present in the original version, I assumed they dated from around the
late 19th-Century or early 20th century.
However,
there was no indication of the date of composition for either
melody, nor was there any background information on The Rose. This
resulted in my being in an interesting situation; I could therefore
interpret the two songs entirely in my own way.
The Rose is presented as a rhapsody – the music growing organically out
of the single A-octave heard on the organ. Snippets of the melody are
passed between the voices and organ, yet the original harmony is never
heard.
Stars
Trembling O’er Us is slightly more rigid in structure by
contrast. The choir sing simpler harmonies compared to the cluster-like
modal harmonies of the first song. The organ meanwhile provides a
lilting accompaniment, suggesting the gentle rocking of a boat on the
“dim river”. The serene ending portrays the boat floating away into the
distance peacefully.
Note
by Daniel Basford
Daniel was
born and is resident in Hitchin. He learnt piano, cello,
bassoon and percussion before turning to composition at fifteen. He
studied composition at the Royal Northern College of Music from 2001-5.
He has had commissions from the RNCM, London Symphony Orchestra,
Britten Sinfonia, and others). He has won international and UK
composition prizes and his wind band music has won prizes in Dallas,
USA. He is also a performer (percussion and piano) and teacher in
Hertfordshire.
Summer
Serenade - Douglas Coombes
Dedicated to
and first performed by HCS in 2004
[10] WELCOME,
SUMMER (Geoffrey Chaucer : 1340-1400)
Now, welcome, Summer, with thy sunné soft,
Thou hast this winter’s weathers overshake
And driven away the longè nightès black.
Saint Valentine that art full high on loft,
Thus singen smallè fowlès for thy sake
“Now welcome, Summer, with thy sunnè soft,
That has this winter’s weathers overshake.”
Well have they causè for to gladden oft,
Since each of them recovered hath his make;
Full blissful may they singen when they wake-
“Now, welcome, Summer, with thy sunné soft,
Thou hast this winter’s weathers overshake
And driven away the longè nightès black.”
The piano
sets the mood with a fanfare like flourish which appears a
few times in this opening movement. This is intended to give the
feeling of the excitement of the forthcoming summer that ‘hast this
winter’s weathers overshake.’ The whole movement is one of joyful
anticipation, with the earth coming alive. And at the end the choir
fervently rejoice that the long black night has finally been driven
away with a shouted exultant ‘Welcome, Summer.’
[11] SUMMER
(Christina Rossetti : 1830-1894)
Winter is cold-hearted,
Spring is yea-and-nay,
Autumn is a weather-cock
Blown every way.
Summer days for me
When every leaf is on its tree;
When Robin’s not a beggar,
And Jenny Wren’s a bride,
And larks hang singing, singing, singing
And anchored lilies ride,
And the pendulum spider
Swings from side to side.
And blue-black beetles transact business,
And gnats fly in a host,
And furry caterpillars hasten
That no time be lost,
And moths grow fat and thrive
And ladybirds arrive.
Before green apples blush,
Before green nuts embrown.
Why, one day in the country
Is worth a month in town;
Is worth a day and a year
Of the dusty, musty, lag last fashion
That days drone elsewhere.
The poem starts
‘Winter is cold hearted’ so again the strings set the
mood playing sul ponticello (near the bridge) and without any vibrato
which gives an icy mysterious colour. The choir sing without any warmth
– also with no vibrato. Rosetti compares the season with Spring and
Autumn. The music changes accordingly but the mood changes exuberantly
when the choir sings ‘Summer days for me.’ There is plenty of word
painting in this movement such as the chirpy Robin, the singing larks,
the swinging spider, the sopranos and altos sining of the gnats, the
tenors and basses sliding around with the furry caterpillars, and the
delicate ladybirds.
[12] ON A
SUMMER’S MORN (John Clare : 1793-1864)
I love to peep out on a summer’s morn,
Just as the scouting rabbit seeks her shed,
And the coy hare squats nestling in the corn,
Frit at the bow’d ear tott’ring o’er her head;
And blund’ring pheasant, that from covert springs,
His short sleep broke by early tramping feet,
Makes one to startle with his rustling wings,
As through the boughs he seeks more safe retreat.
The little flower, begemm’d around with drops
That shine at sunrise like to burnish’d gold,
‘Tis sweet to view: the milkmaid often stops,
And wonders much such spangles to behold;
The hedger, too, admires them deck the thorn, -
And thinks he sees no beauties like the Morn.
The opening
represents the magic of the early summer morning with a
suggestion of the impending heat – at least that is what I have tried
to do! The music changes quickly with upward surges on the violin – the
pheasant has been disturbed. The sultry opening returns as the poet
reflects how sweet it is to see the flower still with the morning dew
shines at sunrise. The movement ends peacefully as the milkmaid and the
hedger wonder at the beauties of the morn.
[13] SUMMER
SHOWER
(Emily Dickinson : 1830-1886)
A drop fell on the apple tree,
Another on the roof;
A half a dozen kissed the eaves,
And made the gables laugh.
A few went out to help the brook,
That went to help the sea,
Myself conjectures, Were they pearls,
What necklaces could be!
The dust replaced in hoisted roads,
The birds jocoser sung;
The sunshine threw his hat away,
The orchards spangles hung.
The breezes brought dejected lutes,
And bathed them in the glee;
The East put out a single flag,
And signed the fête away.
No summer is
complete, especially in this country, without a summer
shower. The piano plays pizzicato-like notes throughout and at the
start the rain drops are quite gentle and spasmodic. But the shower as
portrayed by the poetess is light – the raindrops just kiss the eaves
and nature laughs. The whole movement is gentle. And just as the shower
gradually starts, so it gradually disappears.
[14]
GREENSLEEVES
(English Traditional)
The piano takes
the lead in this movement as the choir become a
wordless chorus. In fact the instruction is for the vocal lines to be
vocalised throughout using sounds chosen by the conductor. The music
sets a pastoral scene – one of summer peace and tranquillity.
[15] FEAR NO
MORE THE HEAT O’ THE SUN (William Shakespeare : 1564-1616)
Fear no more the heat o’ the sun
Nor the furious winter’s rages;
Thou thy worldly task hast done,
Home art gone and ta’en thy wages:
Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.
Fear no more the frown o’ the great,
Thou art past the tyrant’s stroke;
Care no more to clothe and eat;
To thee the reed is as the oak:
The sceptre, learning, physic, must
All follow this and come to dust.
Fear no more the lightning flash
Nor the all-dreaded, censure rash;
Thou hast finish’d joy and moan:
All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee, and come to dust.
The main melody is
sung in unison by the full choir. The reason for
this is that I wanted the words to come over clearly and also give the
choir a chance to enjoy singing expressively with a true legato – and
hopefully to enjoy singing such a tune. But there is always an
undercurrent of the grave for everyone no matter there position in
life. And the movement ends, as with life, with the grave.
[16] AH,
SUNFLOWER (William Blake : 1757-1827)
Ah, Sunflower! Weary of time,
Who countest the steps of the Sun;
Seeking after that sweet golden clime,
Where the traveller’s journey is done;
Where the Youth pined away with desire,
And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow,
Arise from their graves, and aspire
Where my Sunflower wishes to go.
‘Sunflower! Weary of time’
and this is stressed by the languid opening
with a gentle rocking motive played by the strings which is contrasted
by legato phrases sung in different time to ‘Ah’ which is taken from
the title. For most of this movement there is this rhythmic contrast
between voices and strings which illustrates the uncertainly of life –
the life of the sunflower and human life.
[17] STARS OF
THE
SUMMER NIGHT (Henry Longfellow : 1807-1882)
Stars of the summer night,
Far in yon azure deeps,
Hide, hide your golden light,
She sleeps, my lady sleeps.
Moon of the summer night,
Far down yon western steeps,
Sink, sink in silver light,
She sleeps, my lady sleeps.
Wind of the summer night,
Where yonder woodbine creeps,
Fold, fold thy pinions light,
She sleeps, my lady sleeps.
Dreams of the summer night,
Tell her, her lover keeps watch
While in slumber light,
She sleeps, my lady sleeps.
This is a love
poem – the lady sleeps and dreams of summer nights while
her lover keeps watch. This is a lullaby, gentle and serene
[18] FINALE:
WELCOME, SUMMER (Geoffrey Chaucer : 1340-1400)
This is basically
a reprise of the opening movement. There are some
additions, such as in the opening for piano where there is a passing
reference to the Summer Shower and at the end where the choir extends
the welcome to summer.
Notes
by Douglas Coombes
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