Part Two
Well let me preface this blog entry by stating that, yes, I have not been blogging much at all lately. I have been too busy composing and hanging out with Aidan, my cool and crazy eight year old- so that's a good thing! Now, as I finish up on most of my commissions that will be performed this concert season, I can get back to blogging, although I still have plenty of music to write for now and down the road. Here is a discussion I began writing awhile ago of a piece which was finished in mid-summer and which will be premiered in early November:
This
past Spring I was contacted by Roger Dean/Lorenz, my main
publishers, who told me that they had recommended me to Larry Doebler at Ithaca College to compose the commissioned work for the 34th
annual Ithaca College Choral Festival to be held in November. I was
quite happy with this news, and this is the first time a publisher
actually produced a commission for me. Until now, almost all my
commissions have come through the growth of personal relationships
with people around the country, with the other few commissions the
result of people who have sleuthed out my music and called me without
first having a relationship (hey, any of these is fine!).
I
learned more about the impressive history of the Ithaca Festival and read up on the names of
those composers who have already written the commissioned piece and
was pretty humbled- names like Vincent Persichetti, Steven Stucky,
Chen Yi, fellow Yale classmate Dan Asia, Dan Locklair, and others.
I
got to know Larry Doebler through e-mail, (what a nice man), and started looking for
texts to set for this piece which was to be 4-6 minutes and for SATB
a cappella or accompanied (my choice). At first I thought of doing a
traditional Latin church text setting- the Persichetti commission was
the first piece in the series- and as he set the Magnificat and Nunc
Dimittus, I thought of reprising that, but then I decided I wanted to
do something more modern as well as serious and substantive. So the
poetry search now needed to be a thorough hunt for something truly
special. I wouldn't just accept any old text, that was for sure. I
felt it might take quite along time, but actually a poem I already
knew just a little virtually leaped into my lap pleading for me to
choose it- Amy Lowell's “September, 1918”, a war poem very
different from other war poems as it is not about the battles
themselves, but one civilian's reaction to the possible ending of
war, whether an outbreak of peace could be trusted, and so on. I have
always wondered about this- as WWI and WWII dragged on, how much did
people wonder if the war would ever end? What would be the final toll
both physically and psychologically on us all- how did we go from
living in a fairly peaceful world, then to the mindset of being in
the midst of world war, and then somehow back again to peace? This is
something I have not experienced, yet this was reality for the
generations of the first half of the twentieth century.
“SEPTEMBER, 1918” (with line numbers added for study)
by Amy Lowell
1. This afternoon was the colour of water falling through sunlight;
2. The trees glittered with the tumbling of leaves;
3. The sidewalks shone like alleys of dropped maple leaves,
4. And the houses ran along them laughing out of square, open windows.
5. Under a tree in the park,
6. Two little boys, lying flat on their faces,
7. Were carefully gathering red berries
8. To put in a pasteboard box.
9. Some day there will be no war,
10. Then I shall take out this afternoon
11. And turn it in my fingers,
12. And remark the sweet taste of it upon my palate,
13. And note the crisp variety of its flights of leaves.
14. Today I can only gather it
15. And put it into my lunch-box,
16. For I have time for nothing
17. But the endeavour to balance myself
18. Upon a broken world.
(Amy Lowell)
Examining
the text, certain things become apparent- there is an excitement at
the beginning-a description of beauty and action- of sunlight, water,
tumbling, houses running(!), laughing- a whole jumble of delirious
actions and events. What reader encountering only these early lines
in the poem would guess this is a poem that is, in some way, about
war? And right here, the poem grabbed me- I am certainly very
attracted to texts that work on multiple levels, that are open to
multiple interpretations, that contain mystery and so on. Also at
this point, the level of action attracted me, this proposed setting
could have wonderful contrasts of tempo, something which appeals to
me these days as I see so many US choral composers in the past twenty
years writing everything at a ponderous, homophonic,
soprano-dominant, 60-72 beats per minute. This text would provide
ample opportunity for uptempo writing as well as more reflective
moments.
So
once I truly decided to set this poem I ran it past Larry and he
gave it a quick approval. I became pretty excited about the project
and started on it with plenty of zeal. But of course, there needed to
be a lot of study of the poem, both before I wrote a single note, but
also as the piece progressed. I usually start at the beginning and
end at the end. Sometimes as I do this I will happen across music for
a later section of a piece and try to sketch that or even write it
out and lay out, in my Finale score, a slew of blank measures that
will be needed in order to arrive there later. So while I tend to
write linearly in time, sometimes I jump about (hopefully not like a
yak- Sir Thomas Beecham wouldn't approve of that.*
So
the poetic study reveals some things which are pretty obvious- there
is a dramatic shift with absolutely no warning as we go from line 8
to line 9. There it is, the whiplash inducing mention of war, and
apparently a proclamation that there someday will be no war(?). But
can we actually trust this statement of the poet- especially when we
were ambushed by even the mention of war? Does she really convince us
or even herself with this statement?
Our
answer comes from lines 10-13 and the subsequent information in 14-15
inform us that all these delightful images and actions in lines 1-8
truly were never trusted by the poet. They were noted but never truly
enjoyed, they were put away for perhaps a future when it is
okay to enjoy life.
Lines
16-18 are the final sad thought and commentary- the happiness cannot
be enjoyed because the poet can do nothing but try to survive, “to
“balance myself on a broken world”. Even though in September 1918
it seemed as if the war was coming to an end, the world could
certainly not be trusted. And so this poem which began with such
positive, ecstatic images ends in distrust and sadness. The poem has
traversed so many emotions and truly given us a kaleidoscopic tour of
the mind of a citizen living in time of war.
So
here were the challenges ahead of me- how could I pull off
representing all these emotions and how could I set that line 9, and
those final sad thoughts to the best of my abilities. Big challenges,
indeed.
Here
were some of my solutions (the piece is already almost done, far
ahead of schedule, by the way).
The
opening lines are set to up-tempo music, a busy triplet theme in the
piano intro sets up the busy-ness and this theme will come and go
through the piece- it's the theme (almost solely in the piano) that
represents the busy action parts of the poem. But to hint at
something darker, there are already slightly strange dissonances in
the piano and/or the voices in an otherwise major (or suspended 4th-
no third) tonality. These odd, momentary dissonances are the slight
clue that all is not happiness and bright and that things will change
in this piece from light to dark. Btw, the vocal parts in this
opening sound a bit like Randall Thompson or Vaughn Williams, a
number of simple chords moving variously in parallel or contrary
motion to each other.
The
music dies down and then the line 9 text arrives. Here there is a
cross-relationship battle between major and minor chords, as well as
conflicting major and minor scalar motion (somewhat like the odd
scalar conflicts in Tallis). The men's voices intone the beginning
of this in a repetitive dirge-like manner, and the women layer on top
of this in long, ascending stretto lines. The setting of this line of
poetry ends with the very loud, highly pitched culmination of this
dirge and ascending stretto- I expect it to be pretty powerful when
it is sung by the choir.
The
text of line 10-13 suggest a return to the feelings (and music?) of
the opening. I do actually do this, but certainly not verbatim at
all. At first the return is dreamlike- text from lines 10-13 fit the
music of the beginning but the tempo starts slower, as if we were
trying to recapture that opening feeling, but were having some
difficulty doing so. Finally, the tempo does get back to the
beginning tempo but before long we have arrived at the ending lines
of poetry. There I use a device I have used in two earlier serious
pieces- setting a text line or two in a chorale-like way, as if that
text were perhaps the core, or the message, or moral of the entire
poem. These chorales (often just a few bars long, especially in this
piece) are usually in 4/4 time and may contain suspensions to draw
attention to important words. It's as if the music has to become
simple so that we hear the message from this Greek chorus. The line
where this is the most obvious is line 16 “for I have time for
nothing”, meaning literally no ability to appreciate anything of
beauty. In this context, the statement is quite drastic. It means we
virtually cannot endure war and its psychological destruction of the
human spirit. The chorale weaves in and out as the poem and music
end, and there is also a reference to a very simple melody which also
has a very piquant harmony attached to it which was used way back in
lines 7-9- about the innocent little boys. And then we finish in a
choral unison of the last words “to balance myself upon a broken
world”. I wrestled with how to set this ending quite a bit (and
probably am still doing so, since I have plenty of time to tweak this
piece). What does it mean if I set it chordally or if I set it in
unison, what is the psychology of each? I am not sure I can totally
put answers into English in response to this, but I kept coming back
to the fact that a unison setting of the final words gives them more
power- there is no distraction by choral harmonic sound, and there is
also a unification of thought through the whole choir- hey are all
delivering the message together. So I think this really is the best
choice for the ending.
Currently
the piece clocks in at about six and a half minutes. I talked to
Larry to make sure I hadn't overshot the commission length too much
and he was fine with it. We'll see how my final tweaks affect the
duration, and what other tweaks happen-- I'm always playing with
choices in regard to the exact dynamics, tempi I am going to mark in
a piece. I'm also constantly trying to figure out just how long final
notes of phrases for singers (especially if they are a hard
consonant) should be and whether they end on a strong or weak beat
(yes, these tiny details of release points can make a difference to
the sound and also the psychology of a setting).
I'm
very pleased with the piece so far and I hope that the audience is
drawn into the drama and personal voice of this war poem set from the
point of view of a civilian. I think it is one of Amy Lowell's very
best works. She is not a major poet but she certainly had her own
voice, and it is still fresh enough to speak to us, unlike a number
of other poets of her generation.
P.S.
The other two pieces where I have used the chorale idea are in
a setting (for SATB and strings, one on a part or larger ensemble) which I titled “1944” from H.D.'s poem “Christmas, 1944”
where I use the music from chorales in the J.S. Bach Christmas
Oratorio to set some of the words, and also a piece called [HUSH]
which is about divorce and young children surviving that situation
(the divorce references in that poem are actually quite veiled).
* "What can you do with it? It's like a lot of yaks jumping about".
- Sir Thomas on Beethoven's Seventh Symphony
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