26 & 27 January

Intro: In Freezing Winter Night, Britten

 

 

This is Classical Break, on Somer Valley FM and I’m Rupert Kirkham. Today’s programme is of winter music and was researched and written by Mike Burrows We have just heard In Freezing Winter Night from A Ceremony of Carols for three--part treble voices and harp by Benjamin Britten. This is Winter standing all about one: everywhere one looks, the frost bareness, a merciless beauty. Our earth is cold; yet the Christmas story of birth and rebirth in love warms deep in one’s soul; we need never lose it. Wonder is in the frost whiteness as in the white fire of remote stars. Is this one’s everyday world? In awe, two boys’ voices move in canon, a third moving with the frost-feeling accompaniment. This music was written in a cabin on a neutral Swedish freighter crossing the Atlantic, as Britten returned tardily to Britain from the United States in 1942. Minus its generator-hum, a nearby refrigeration compartment perhaps aided his imagination... The stiller and sparer it becomes, the more brittle the human mind is made by winter: and yet, we have the Christmas story; this time of seeming frozen stasis is the illusion. If much sleeps or shivers, Spring is gathering its force under it all, merely in wait. From John Playford’s English Dancing Master of 1651, and words written later for broadsheet-sale, here’s All Hail To The Days (To Drive The Cold Winter Away).

 

Track Two: All Hail To The Days (To Drive The Cold Winter Away) Trad

 

This is Classical Break, on Somer Valley FM and I’m Rupert Kirkham. Today’s programme was written by Mike Burrows. Its theme is Winter.

 

Gian-Francesco Malipiero was a lonely figure among the Generation of The Eighties - 1880s, that is. His style was personal: he was capable of close musical reasoning, a brilliant sense of instrumental colour in combination, but held to no one system of any aspect of music, save instinct. His music harks back to pastoral and courtly Italy, and forward into regions that are not for nostalgia or the musically faint-hearted.

 

It can be frankly illustrative of early music, birdsong, bells - or harsh, terse and distorted, and working progressions of thought through regardless of who can follow. Here is the fourth partita of his Sinfonia Dello Zodiaco, which begins in chant and strict, four-part canon! It is in three movements, for this Sinfonia is in twelve subdivisions - one each for the zodiacal signs - and divided equally into four ‘Partite’ - Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter... The composer denied us the crutch of a detailed programme: what programme there was was, he said, not to be told. The Sinfonia was written in 1951. For its social context, the postwar period in Italy was a time of great bitterness, of the settlings of scores arising from the Fascist regime and its ruinous involvement in the Axis cause, an era of poverty, unemployment and the Marshall Plan. American aid in funds and food-parcels had as much to do with support for the Left in Italy as with the privations and sufferings of a defeated nation. In the 69 year-old Malipiero’s complex vision of Winter, there appears to be no place for hope, though there are moments of fleeting beauty and consonance. It The Partita and Sinfonia end in cruel, growling discord. Perhaps, as Thomas Hardy put it,

 

“If a way to the better there be, it exacts a full look at the worst.’

 

Tracks Three to Five: Sinfonia Dello Zodiaco, Winter, Malipiero

 

A near-contemporary of Caplet and Ravel, and taught by Vincent D’Indy at the Schola Cantorum in Paris, Deodat De Severac was a composer of the Languedoc in Southern France. His output was largely of character--pieces descriptive of everyday life in this distinct region named after 1the language of its people, Oc. Here is a movement from his Georgic Suite, Le Chant De La Terre, or The Song of The Land. Les Semailles, The Sowings - of seed. In Winter, we think of - and look forward to - Spring.

 

Track Six: Le Chant De La Terre. Les Semailles, de Severac

 

To see a light moving on the ground in winter darkness is to wonder who carries it, where And why. It is one of the memorable images from long winter nights, when wits are sharpened and curiosity excited that much more strongly, or when we are tired and reflective, the cold slowing our minds so that we take time to watch and think. There can be thoughts of threat; who would be walking abroad on a night like this?

For the Jesuit poet, Gerard Manley Hopkins, the lantern that moves along the night and that interests our eyes is the light of soul. In his late choral and orchestral work based on Hopkins’ poetry, Inscape,

 

Edmund Rubbra set this idiosyncratic sonnet in a nocturne of some gravity.

“Men go by me whom either beauty bright

In mould or mind or whatnot else makes rare.
They rain against our much -thick and marsh air
Rich beams, till death or distance buys them quite...”

Hopkins cannot help them, ultimately as out of sight is out of mind; but Christ minds,

 

“Their ransom, their rescue, and first, last, fast friend.”

 

Rubbra’s setting seems, aptly, to grow out of chant; the harp has an important, though sparely speaking role, heard bell-like and intermittently against other sombre colours of accompaniment.

 

Track Seven: Inscape, 2nd Movt, Rubbra

 

A song by Ivor Gurney, now, I will Go With My Father A-Ploughing. The words are by the Irish poet, Joseph Campbell. There is a wild quality to melody and harmonies - in Gurney’s musical vocabulary, they could be Celtic or Northern: a similar quality informs his songs On Black Stitchel (a poem with Northumbrian setting), and The Fiddler of Dooney (setting Yeats). This song has a tragic significance. Gurney’s Father, a Gloucester tailor, was his hero, and had lately died; Dad, of all his relatives, had understood and admired his musical talent and ambition: he had died during Gurney’s troubles after discharge from the Army, before he had so much as seen his son’s music in print...

 

Track Eight: I Will Go With My Father A-Ploughing

 

The poor are always with us, as the scriptures have it. For some, there is a simple explanation. However unwelcome their attentions, however greedy and cruel they become in pursuit of other people’s fair shares; however many lives are broken or ended to provide that last refinement of power and luxury - the rich, too, are always with us. A folksong now, a carol: Cold Winter is Come. Let’s not tolerate its message. ‘A time to remember the poor’ is an institution in default of refusing at any time to regard poverty as social justice. The person or persons who composed it have earned no posthumous fame, owing to his or their class. An enlightened professional recorded it in 1891, before it, too, could die.

 

Track Nine: Cold Winter Is Come, Trad

 

Here’s a sonnet on Winter, written and read by Mike Burrows:

 

 

Winter

 

What comes down on the world is not held back

By words, and protests remind of others –
Others when mankind was less far off-track,
That were demeaning enough. Earth mothers
The dead as well as she does the living –
If anything, hugs the dead with more ease,
The uncomplaining dead to whom giving
And taking go deep beneath clay and freeze.
Below the living root they have to lie:
The poor man lies below the conduit
Of available wealth, and his sad sigh
Or rage is a matter of unspirit
To the soulless for whom those sacrificed
Are dwarfed by wealth as by the tree of Christ.

 

©  Mike Burrows, February 2012

 

That last sprinkle of gold dust on a one-k-snifter as the world goes bust is a particular pleasure and acquired taste. Local charity replaces the Welfare State,the poor have no cultural ambitions nor skills, no worthy hopes in life, only the dignity of work that they don’t choose. Off waltz public amenities and common humanity and the rich do rather well - 60 Billion last year alone added to the assets of a thousand people now ‘worth’ between them nearly £400 Billion... Those who cut, close and sell off our inheritance at will, and those who cost the country over £100 Billion pounds in lost tax-revenues each year, and Billions more in expropriation-contracts, evidently think winter smiles on local charity and ‘austerity’... The relevance to music in this is who writes, performs, criticizes and broadcasts the art-music of tomorrow? Who grows up sufficiently in this atmosphere of falsehood and denial to create or assist creation in a rich tradition of a thousand years, the phenomenon of mankind’s musical communicativeness? As music-charities scrabble for a scatter of pennies, children from less well-off backgrounds, it seems, have no entree and need not apply, as most outlets and institutions concerned in musical development close or raise their fees and we return to the days of the common man’s carol we have just heard - of two nations, two musics. A composer once watched people as they took their seats in one of our opera-houses and said, “Music starves, but the wealthy could live for months on the fat between their ears.” Let’s hear Winter Wakeneth All My Care from John Rutter’s choral song-cycle with orchestral accompaniment, When Icicles Hang.

 

Track Ten: Winter Wakeneth All My Care, Rutter

 

Here’s another song by Gurney. It sets a poem by Edward Thomas. Snow is a brief portrayal of a little girl’s thoughts as she plays in the snow. The little girl in question was the poet’s younger daughter, Mywanwy. A strange, dream-like epiphany of universal suffering is treated with fugitive strokes as in a sketch. The after-impression is of sensitivity and kindness: the human warmth that snow cannot pretermit. Gurney loved children and shared their games, preoccupations and humour with genuine enjoyment. Edward Thomas was a less certain companion, oversensitive, afraid of derision and often simply impatient; there is a stressed unease in his words: you might say that in his anxiety to be truthful and avoid sentimentality, he could not find the way back to being young. He would have been surprized and made sadder to know how his children loved and looked up to him...

 

Track Eleven: Snow, Gurney

 

From snow to The Snowdrop, a song for female choir and orchestra from 1909-10, by the late romantic Russian composer, Alexander Grechaninov.

 

Track Twelve: Snow-drop, Grechaninov

 

Born into a highly musical family in Whitchurch in Shropshire, Edward German began as a composer mainly of symphonic and orchestral works and incidental music for the theatre, but in middle life became a successful tunesmith in light opera, regarded as a successor to Sullivan at the Savoy Theatre. Rather dead-headed criticism by George Bernard Shaw and other commentators had deterred him from more ambitious work, suggesting that his style was too theatrical! The tragedy of German is very English. ‘Successful’, he wound up confessing, “To tell the truth, I’m afraid to write anymore, they would only laugh at me...” A scrap of paper found among his last effects stated, “I die a disappointed man because my serious works have not been recognised...” To put his real talents into perspective, it’s believed that Elgar enjoyed his music more than that of any other contemporary. The trick is to listen to what German composed: it is obvious that he was a progenitor of most of our tradition of ‘British Light Music’ in the 20th Century, but if the imitations are discounted, he can be heard as Elgar heard him, as a fresh, cosmopolitan voice influenced by French and Russian rather than Teutonic models. His sound owes something to his Welsh blood (and the Welsh hymn-tradition), and the Marchlands in which he grew up, but nothing to the music of British academicians. Written for the Leeds Festival in 1899, The Suite, The Seasons, is a Symphony in all but name. The finale, Winter, is written in sonata--form, and is a stirring juxtaposition of a solemn hymn and brilliant tarantella, developed and combined at the close with Tchaikovskian fervour; the movement’s qualities are not a million miles from those of early Sibelius.

 

This was Classical Break, on Somer Valley FM. I’m Rupert Kirkham. Today’s programme was researched and written by Mike Burrows. We hope you enjoyed it and will join us again soon. Thanks go to associate producer, Miss Suvi Burrows, aged eight, who requested the Edward German! Goodbye!

 

Track Twelve: Winter from The Seasons, German

 

This script was edited and two pieces – Snow by Ivor Gurney and Snow-drop by Alexander Grechaninov – left out owing to lack of time! The sonnet was written while the programme was being put together and was retained.

 

19 and 20 January

Winter. Yes, this week's programme sets the scene for the next 2 months as we shiver, slip and slide into Spring. The programme focuses on various aspects of the season, with contributions from Edmund Rubbra, Tchaikovsky, Schubert, Schumann, Delius, Bernard Herrmann, Ivor Gurney, and Ralph Vaughan Williams.

CB Winter

A world of snow, glaring.
Distance-darkened, five figures haul; each raises a
                                                          gauntleted hand
That still grasps its ski-pole, but it is a brief wave
As they scarcely glance back: ahead they make the only
                                                                             tracks
And march farther into a world that will not be ours.
They move round-shouldered, trembling with a full-stride -
How soon they sink below sight - over the edge of the
                                                                           known,
Gone in near-silence as we give them three cheers
And stand with only the twin tracks to trace behind the
                                                                       ski-tracks.
To the horizon, the powdery snow diamondless,
The skies bright, the clouds themselves high tracks
Without shadow:
Not a sight, not a sound anymore
Of those who have crossed the curved line we retreat from,
Though they have left their marks, those strong, those
                                                        shaky human marks
Of the trail - of the trail to the Pole, beyond which
Perhaps lies the real glory.
Throughout the globe,
Art follows man into any hidden Winter.

copyright Mike Burrows, 18/01/13

Intro Track: The Carol of The Skiddaw Yowes, Gurney

This is Classical Break and I'm Rupert Kirkham. Today’s programme was written by Mike Burrows and takes winter as its theme.

We have just heard a song by Ivor Gurney, whose benign spirit wanders often into the mind. The Carol of The Skiddaw Yowes sets a poem by Ernest Casson. It is a song for contemporary shepherds watching their sheep. This is Winter standing all about one: everywhere one looks, frost bareness is, a merciless beauty that one feelsand breathes with mounting sense of earth-cold that the Christmas story of birth and rebirth in love warms deep in one’s soul. A miracle when one knows that Winter itself has cold hands, but no warm heart.

The stiller and sparer it becomes, the more brittle the human mind is made by Winter: and yet, if unmediated by the Christmas story, what other process of mind does Winter cause?

Now, a setting of a sonnet of Edmund Spenser made by Edmund Rubbra. It comes from his set of Five Spenser Sonnets for Tenor and String Orchestra, a work of his mid-thirties, first performed in 1935. After the first performance, he amplified the original string quartet accompaniment, very likely because the textures of the string parts are often strongly contrapuntal and when played on only four instruments may not bear the weight. However, to thicken the lines may overpower the soloist’s contribution (it’s rather subjective).

The sonnet’s compact structure of fourteen lines, balanced phrases and poised rhythms, comparatively long lines and an argument developed tautly within strict metre and rhymes, is not easy to set - its form being a single verse, frequently stating abstract propositions in a manner that does not imply any melody other than its own. In the case of New Year Forth Looking Out Of Janus’ Gate, the tenor sings above a fugue; the quiet climax brings voice and instruments together in a broadened statement before the stalky opening subject, a tempo primo, ends the piece abruptly.

Track Two: Five Spenser Sonnets for Tenor and String Orchestra Rubbra

Tchaikovsky’s twelve piano pieces, The Seasons, were written month by month for the journal Nuvellist. They were intended for readers to play, they were written to deadlines, work on them being often prompted by Tchaikovsky’s valet. It was fortunate for us that Alexei remembered. Small-scale and unambitious as they are in form, The Seasons are anything but ephemeral as music. Each was headed by a quotation from Russian poetry. January (At The Fireside) is headed by words from Pushkin: “A little corner of peaceful bliss, the night dressed in twilight; the little fire is dying in the fire-place, and the candle has burned out...” There you have It - two of Russia’s more sophisticated 19th Century artists: but the piece is a miniaturization of much that is best in Tchaikovsky, the song, the thought-provoking forays into rhythmical contrast and overall charmingly sensitive affect conveyed with notable melodic and harmonic skill - all this in a form of simple alternation.

Track Three: January (At The Fireside), Tchaikovsky

Schubert’s Winterreise, composed only two years before his death, frightened his friends, who may have imagined that he stared for too long into its icy regions for their comfort: how far their friend could travel by staring into the flame of a candle and thinking... A twenty-four song-cycle setting poems of Muller, it tells the story of a journey into cold and nightmare, snows and madness, undertaken by a disappointed lover. Here are three contrasting songs from the cycle, No 11, Frühlingstraum, No 18, Stürmische Morgen and No 20, Der Wegweiser - Dream of Spring, Stormy Morning and The Signpost. Spring is the hope of salvation; storms and cold are too much to the lover’s mood; the lover has his path; it is shown him by the sign-post; the beloved did not have to make this journey - she has a home. The wanderer’s journey is far from over.

Track Four, Five, Six: Winterreise - Fruhlingstraum and Sturmische Morgen, Der Wegweiser, Schubert

When news broke that Schubert had died, the eighteen year-old Schumann was heard to sob all night long.

Here is the Slow Movement of Schumann’s Violin Concerto in D Minor. This arioso is possibly Schumann’s most beautiful concertante creation. The entire concerto was written and scored within a few days in the October of 1853 and during a spate of inspiration. It was his last major work and was composed for the young Hungarian violinist, Josef Joachim, who with the twenty-year-old Brahms had done much to brighten what was a difficult time in his professional career. In the event, the concerto was suppressed by Schumann’s musical executors, his pianist-wife, Clara, Joachim and Brahms after a private run-through with an orchestra, two years after the composer’s death. Nearly eighty years later, Joachim's Great-niece, another virtuoso violinist, Jelly D’Aranyi, claimed to have been contacted by the spirits of her Great-uncle and Schumann; the objections of Schumann’s last remaining daughter, Eugenie, merely delayed performance and publication of the concerto a short time - Both took place after Eugenie’s death, in 1938. We hope to devote space to the entire work and the fascinating story surrounding it, in a future programme. Marked Langsam -Slow - and beginning on cellos, the slow movement treats an introduction and violin solo melody to ornamentation and development in ternary form; near the close, the violin sings its melody a third lower and in the minor. Filled with baroque touches, canons, imitations, appogiatura and trills, this is music instinct with the skills of old music made anew, and with all the dignity of the old. The movement as a whole expresses a depth of sadness unusual in Schumann, and yet the sheer, full-hearted purity of means and ends and beautiful sense of form one finds in it, confers on it an air of wisdom innocent of self-pity. It seems to sing over the cradle of the vanity of human wishes. Schumann loved his children, six of whom he watched grow: here, it is as if we watch a dear child at the window, its dark eyes hypnotized by the twisting fall of snow-flakes, the fall that seems to rise. We feel the sadness of how much young promise must learn by suffering through a too-short life. This is not to sentimentalize either Schumann’s fascination by the baroque, or his own winter thoughts. “Work,” he had written to himself some time earlier, “while there is still light...” .

Track Seven: Violin Concerto, 11 Langsam, Schumann

The Slow Movement of Schumann’s Violin Concerto in D Minor.

The four North Country Sketches were the Bradford-born Frederick Delius’ tribute to his home county, Yorkshire. Most of his life was spent in France with periods when he was resident in Florida, Germany and Norway, but in 1913-14, he wrote an orchestral suite depicting the Yorkshire countryside that he had loved and explored as a boy. Frederick or Fred Delius came of German stock, and was named Fritz. As a man he had a curious accent, but at the bottom of a weakness for French idioms and beyond fencing of slightly German gutterals softened by the Norwegian of his wife, one encountered the tell-tale flat vowels of his county of origin. His view of the moors in Winter, Winter Landscape, has the characteristic breadth and light and shade of all his pictures in music, but the violins, violas and woodwind bring an edge, the higher-pitched instruments chiming in coldness, the horns subdued, flute and oboe and then clarinet the hope of warmth. The chromaticism of the harmony and rocking ostinati beloved of this composer are restricted and in the end unresolved, as though keen perceptions of Winter have no contrivable end in themselves, and simply fade out as the focus of one’s gaze is claimed elsewhere...

Track Eight: North Country Sketches, Winter Landscape, Delius

Now, a Branles de la Torche from Michael Praetorius’ Terpsichore or book of dances, of 1612. Torch--dances were a favourite courtly spectacle at this time, torches borne aloft throughout. What a symbol for defiance of harsher winters than we know now!

(A bit of 17th century trivia here - the winter of 1684 was one of the harshest - certainly coldest on record. The Thames in London froze over for 2 months and on a local note, the coldest county was Somerset, where the ground froze to a depth of 4 feet!).

Track Nine: Bransles de la Torche, Praetorius

The American composer, Bernard Herrmann, wrote many fine film-scores: but also a number of equally striking concert--works, where his colouristic imagination was given full play. Here is his glistening evocation of February, from the song-cycle, Fantasticks, to words by the Elizabethan poet, Nicholas Breton.

Track Ten: February, Fantasticks, Herrmann

A traditional song: As It Fell Out Upon One Day, otherwise known As Dives and Lazarus. In this, The miserly contempt of the rich man for the presumably undeserving poor man brings its own reward...

Track Eleven: As It Fell Out Upon One Day, Trad

To Bernard Herrmann the film composer. Let’s hear his Sleigh-Ride, written for the film The Devil and Daniel Webster, in which a Midford farmer sells his soul to the devil (Scratch) for Hessian gold. The Scots song on which the cue is based is one thing; the prominence of the tritone - the devil’s interval in music - in the harmonies quite another, seeming to be telling us where the enriched Jabez Stone is ultimately headed...

Track Twelve: Sleigh-Ride, Herrmann

“Great God, this is an awful place!”

If one wants to take on Winter and win, it’s best not to take on the Antarctic Autumn and Winter - perhaps the coldest recorded Antarctic Winter - whilst hauling a sledge with four other men, all of whom are starving.

To end, here’s a suite of cues from Vaughan Williams’ music for Scott of The Antarctic, an Ealing film about Captain Scott’s illfated bid for for ‘prority’ at the South Pole in 1911-12. Captain Scott, Doctor Edward Wilson, Captain Laurence Oates, Lieutenant Henry Bowers, and Petty Officer Edgar Evans reached the Pole a month late, on January the Seventeenth, and perished from cold and scurvy on the return journey.

Vaughan Williams’ orchestral mastery may do as much as Scott’s own journals and the sketches of his comrade, Bill Wilson, not to mention Apsley Cherry-Garrard’s The Worst Journey In The World, or the photography - the artistry - of Herbert Ponting and Scott himself - to perpetuate the memory of five extraordinary men. Every stroke of harmony and colour - including tuned and untuned percussion and, notably, soprano voices like banshees, furies or fates in detachment - strikes home. The antics of penguins and moments of expedition-comradeliness, of course, permit warm humour in contrast to the dazzle or sunless glare of snow and ice as damp goes to one’s bones...

The cues are entitled: Prologue, Pony March, Penguins, Climbing The Glacier, The Return, Blizzard and Final Music.

This is Classical Break, on Somer Valley FM, and I’m Rupert Kirkham. Today’s programme was researched and

written by Mike Burrows. We hope that you enjoyed it and will join us again soon. Goodbye!

Tracks Thirteen to Nineteen: Scott of The Antarctic, Vaughan-Williams

12 and 13 January

This week's programme is a bit of a personal indulgence. No particular theme, just a lot of 20th century music, Debussy, Stravinsky, some modern 'classical' music for brass band, some organ and choral classics and a Debussy piece played on a synthesiser by Tomita.
Apologies to you if you saw a previous blog which indicated that the programme was about Winter. That's next week!

5 & 6 January

Our Twelfth Night programme, from January, 2012, is a seasonal blend of merry-making and solemnity - "Or What You Will"!




CB Twelfth Night

Intro: A Childhood Memory, John Barry

Today’s programme was researched and written by Mike Burrows and is inspired by Twelfth Night. You’ve just heard A Childhood Memory, by the film-composer, John Barry, from his album, The Beyondness Of Things. Whatever the childhood memory described, and he himself gives no clue, it seems a confrontation between infant wishes and a hardening of reality in one’s surroundings, tailing off in fragments of Nick-nack Paddywhack... Six days into a hardening New Year, where are our Christmas hopes? Money has moved on, we follow. Who throws whom the bone, how many care?

The Beyondness of Things purports to be music of journeying, of seeking, perhaps finding. In the Church Calendar, the last day of Christmas is the first day of Epiphany: an epiphany is a glimpse of the holy that was beyond one’s view. The Three Kings, the magi or Wise Men, traditionally Caspar, Melchior and Baltazar, journeyed to meet the Christ-Child, following a star.

The Italian composer, Ottorino Respighi, a great, late romantic orchestrator, wrote his Trittico Boticelliano for small orchestra - with an important part for piano - in 1927. He intended these tone-poems to be a rendition in music of masterpieces by the Florentine artist, Sandro Botticelli (1445-1510); a triptych is a group of three paintings. Two of the subjects of the paintings cited are pagan-classical, Spring and The Birth of Venus respectively; they flank a slower, central piece of great beauty and solemn process, The Adoration of The Magi. Its growth from the pifferaro-, that is, fife- or bagpipe-like, sounds of the opening is extraordinarily patient and smooth. Amongst the thematic material, you will recognize the tune of the old carol O Come O Come Immanuel in modal form, and chant-like moments whose origin was in Respighi’s love - and intense study- of Roman liturgical music.

Track Two: The Adoration of The Magi, Respighi

Amid solemn observances and mental pilgrimage, if not the real thing, this was a time for revelry, spectacle, for courts and kings as for peoples. Tielman Susato’s Danserye, first printed in 1551, contains many kinds of dance of the time and earlier that might add to the splendid effect of royal or affluent celebrations, masques, fancy-dress dances... Here are the Fool’s Dance andMorisque - morris-dance – in which we hear quaint fool’s licence, an essential distorting mirror to lordly brashness - and licence of another kind. Besides good tunes, the essence of a good Danseryewas the suitability of the music for either chaste or ‘extreme’ arrangements.

Tracks Three and Four: Fool’s Dance and La Morisque, Susato

Next, a solemn Padouana - a slow and stately dance that originated in Padua - here performed by a quartet of trombones - from the Musical Banquet (1617) of Johann Hermann Schein. Trombones - developed from the smaller-bore sackbutt - have been traditionally associated with musicians of the angelic orders - and are often called upon to mimic solemn priestly voices. Here, the dance and that tendency meet consonantly.

Track Five: Padouana, Schein

Anciently, Twelfth Night was not the night of the Twelfth Day, but the night of the eleventh day of Christmas, thanks to a different manner of keeping time that saw sunset as the beginning of the day... To confuse further, the Twelfth Day was once celebrated as Christmas Day. Our hard-and-fast customs are perhaps less stable than our faith in their unchangeability... Christianity appropriated unto itself a group of days and a pagan festival, and even then, the ground shifted. At one time or another, most of the forms our rejoicing takes have been banned - carols, mincemeat-pies (unless imported), seasonal church services..., dirty dancing...dare one say it, unofficial assembly...even live music - unless licenced or circumscribed by money-makers. Like spontaneous eating, relations between the sexes and music, small beer, gin, tobacco and leisure-time have all felt the hot breath of ancient and modern disapproval ... To this day, how many days of Christmas are there for most?

Some things remain hard to ban or unbannable, such as a quiet duet. Here is The Seven Joys of Mary a Somerset folksong and kind of creed.

Track Six: Seven Joys of Mary, Trad

Throughout the British Isles, Twelfth Night was riotous before the Age of Queen Victoria (an Age that was long and seemed longer). Once, it was surely the great festive binge of the season of Christmas: a drunken, promiscuous rout, a time for fancy-dress and mumming in at least two senses of the word. A popular item was the Twelfth Night cake, eithera large sweet pastry with marzipan filling or a rich plum duff - that contained in addition two beans - one bean to each half. Half the cake went to the men, the other half to the women. Whoever found the bean in his or her slice was crowned King or Queen of the party. A pleasant way to bring sweethearts together, perhaps, or to enjoy the great amusement of bringing together an eccentric or outright-antagonistic couple. Queen Victoria disapproved of rowdiness, and so Twelfth Night in Britain was subdued, partly to improve the morals and efficiency of the work-force, and Twelfth Night cake was altered to become that extra instrument of gustatory torture for us on Christmas day, as though anything in this line had ever been needful - Christmas cake. To soothe us, here is The Gouty Carol, in which a pilgrim suffering from the complaint, “My leg is aching worse,”imagines that meeting Christ in Bethlehem, his gout will be gone in a trice.

Track Seven: Gouty Carol Trad, arr Bowyer

Twelfth Night is also an occasion for Wassailing: a semi-pagan rite seeking blessing of the orchards, in which cakes and libations are returned to the earth from which they came in tribute to the year ahead; songs are sung and - sometimes - guns loosed off. Let’s hear Vaughan Williams’a cappella arrangement of the famous Gloucestershire Wassail Song - Wassail, Wassail, All Over The Town.

Track Eight: Wassail Song Arr VW

Next, Somerset’s Wassail.

Track Nine: Somerset Wassail

“Dost thou think that because thou art virtuous there shall be no more cakes and ale?”

Shakespeare’s romantic comedy with asides for philosophical foolery, derision of Puritanism and two fine specimens of elderly roisterer in Sir Toby Belch and Sir Andrew Aguecheek, Twelfth Night - Or What You Will, has attracted many settings of its songs, O Mistress Mine, Farewell Dear Heart, Come Away, Death and When That I was.

Here is a collection of these songs, beginning with O Mistress Mine, a setting by Shakespeare’s contemporary, and for a time near-neighbour, the Chapel Royal musician, Thomas Morley.

Track Ten: O Mistress Mine, Thomas Morley

Now, a setting of Farewell, Dear Heart by another of Shakespeare’s contemporaries, Robert Jones.

Track Eleven: Farewell, Dear Heart, Jones

Roger Quilter, a member of the so-called Frankfurt Gang -students at the Frankfurt Conservatory, who included Percy Grainger in their number – was primarily a song-composer. His group of Three Shakespeare Songs, Opus Six, opens with a melancholy but beautifully touching Come Away, Death.

Track Twelve: Come Away, Death, Quilter

When That I was And A Little Tiny Boy forms the transient afterword of Twelfth Night - Or What You Will, sung- or spoken - by Touchstone, the clown. With considerable skill and imagination, the jazz-performer and composer, Johnny Dankworth, who died recently, set these lines in a clock-like swing-idiom that is both distinctive and effective. Here is the song, performed by Cleo Laine, the composer - who was a great saxophonist and clarinettist - and associates.

Track Thirteen: When That I Was, Johnny Dankworth

Of Jewish blood, the Italian composer Mario Castelnuovo-Tedesco (1895--1968) was a friend of most of the foremost composers of Respighi’s generation. He was forced to emigrate to the United States by the Fascist regime’s Racial Laws which sought to purge Jews from responsible positions throughout the New Roman Empire after the Pact of Steel with Nazi Germany had been signed.

He wrote 11 full--scale Overtures to plays by Shakespeare, includingTwelfth Night. The overture to Twelfth Night was written in 1933, along with another to The Merchant of Venice...

The score is headed by quotations from speeches of the chief male interest, Duke Orsino: “If music be the food of love, play on...” and “Now, good Cesario, but that piece of song,/That old and Antique song we heard last night...” The page Cesario is in fact Viola, the chief female interest, though the Duke is in love with melancholy, music and another lady as the play opens.

The overture begins with a long tune on cor anglais, associated with Orsino. The household’s affected puritan major domo is Malvolio, whose theme is marked vivo burlesco - bassoons crabbily underscore this marking. There is a percussive, trumpet--theme to represent Sir Toby Belch, the soused nemesis of Malvolio. The Belch-theme sounds Bavarian as imagined By an Italian... The working-out is colourful, and concludes with the Orsino theme played in the major now, and involved with Malvolio’s. In the play Malvolio - bad-will- is forced to accept his humiliation at the hands of his mistress’ maid, Belch and the Duke’s clown: he has been made to believe that his mistress is in love with him, then locked up as a madman, the Clown posing as a doctor... His last words however are, “I’ll be revenged on the whole pack of you...” The play’s one puritan is - of course - a hypocrite. A galliard-element represents the song When I was, and the coda suggests an ironic pay-off.

This was Classical Break on Somer Valley FM, and I’m Rupert Kirkham. Today’s programme was researched and written by Mike Burrows. We hope that you enjoyed it and will join us again soon. Goodbye!

Track Fourteen: Twelfth Night, Castelnuovo-Tedesco

Owing to time, the Fool's Dance from Susato's Danserye and the Padouana of Schein had sadly to be omitted from the broadcast.

29 and 30 December 2012

Due to holidays and trips abroad, this week's programme is a repeat of the Christmas Classical Break from last week. Hope you don't mind!!


We wish you all the best for 2013 and keep listening.

If you have ideas for items or you'd like to submit a script yourself, we'd love to hear from you. Just send an email to studio@somervalleyfm.co.uk marked 'FAO Classical Break' in the subject, and we'll get back to you.

Rupert, Mike, Jayne and Suvi.

22 December

In this year’s Christmas Number, jet-lag and other matters deprived this programme of our man of great goodwill, Rupert Kirkham’s, voice, at the last link.  His fellow exec-types wish him all the best, a very happy Christmas and more fortunate New Year!    

 CB Christmas 2012

 

Track One: Pastorale, Heinichen

 

This is Classical Break on Somer Valley FM, and I’m Rupert Kirkham.  Today’s programme was researched and written by Mike Burrows, and is of Christmas music or music with a Christmas air.

 

We’ve just heard a Pastorale per La Notte di Natale by the Leipzig composer, Johann David Heinichen (1683-1729).  A Pastorale was a Shepherds’ Dance, usually in 6/8 time and heard as being in an idealized rustic style.  This one was written for The Night of The Nativity, and would have evoked the joy of Shepherds at the Adoration.  In honour of the occasion and their favoured forebears, in many parts of Europe, Shepherds danced about a crib on Christmas Eve. 

 

Now, let’s hear the first part of Gerald Finzi’s short Christmas cantata for baritone, soprano, semi-chorus, choir and orchestra, In Terra Pax, which sets a poem by Robert Bridges - Forth I Fared Alone, with asides from The Gospel According To Luke (in the King James Version).  It is Christmas Eve, and the poet imagines walking abroad on a snowy night and listening to the sound of church bells, seeing and hearing something of the first Christmas of all.  Thus Finzi’s choice of the accompanying words from scripture  Both Bridges and Finzi were agnostics, powerfully inspired by story and tradition, and the beneficent social effects of Christian ethics and morality.  The orchestral introduction of In Terra Pax is obviously leading up to something; uncertainty - and yet also expectancy - are in the cold night air.  As the movement develops and the baritone-narrator enters, there are moments when the imagination begins to glimpse what the intellect seeks, the vision to sweep away chill complexities of unbelief in divinely-ordained comfort and the faith and hope of another, ancient, more primitive age.  There are hints of The First Nowell in its quiet but, au fond, intent, course.  Something of the mighty solidity of earth stands under the evocation of bells, far-flung stars and dark air, and the musings of the soloist.  The orchestral dress is sombre, brightened by chill glints of harp and high woodwind.  Finzi began the work when young and head-over-heels in love with an aesthetic of polyphony, arioso and Gloucestershire; when he completed it, he knew that he was dying.  To a soul like his, death without afterlife did not come easily. The semi-chorus has the last word:  “And there were in the same country, shepherds abiding in the fields, keeping watch over their flocks by night.”

 

Track Two In Terra Pax, Pt One, Finzi

 

Finzi was not only a composer and editor of music and connoisseur of British poetry.  He devoted much time to the cultivation of many rare British varieties of apple.  The humble apple-tree was for many years the source of cider and apple-jacks - dried apples - and accompaniment to meat and sauce-flavouring, a foundation, with honey and spices, of many a feast; fertility-rites – the wassail - took place in propitiation of the garth at the height of Winter.  Here is the carol Jesus Christ The Apple-tree, a Christianization of pagan faith, its words taken from an 18th Century American book of Divine Hymns and set by Elizabeth Poston.

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Track Three:  Jesus Christ The Apple-Tree

 

Track Four:  Music under:  Extract from Carol Symphony, 3^rd Movt, Hely-Hutchinson

 

Christmas has inspired man to his best artistic efforts for two thousand years.  It is true that many of what we think of as Christmas traditions are more modern in adoption, or have been toned down; there was a time when the popular celebration of Christmas was viewed with misgivings by the authorities.  Carols have been banned from church, mince-pies from the table; carousings and free love from Twelfth Night.  Rectors have objected to the ringing of church bells on Christmas morning.  The Church’s appropriation of the Winter Solstice from pagans has resulted in many symbols’ and activities’ being carried over into the festival of the Nativity and its forms of worship, as religious fundamentalists and atheists alike delight in telling us.

 

The very story of the Nativity is bedevilled by apparent inconsistencies in those scriptures that purport to tell us about the birth of our Lord - only two of the four Gospels speak of it, and in them - Matthew and Luke - events and their circumstances and significance require reading between the lines - a synthetic cast of mind - to create a single narrative.  Every aspect of Christmas appears a moveable feast, its details telescoped or omitted at will, except that we have the warm symbols of evergreen, spiced, fire-lit life, feasting and riches in spite of material poverty, greatness in spite of secular power, strange magic and licence in spite of Wintry puritanism and rationalistic utilitarianism, generosity in spite of everyday distrust and enmity.  It is a time when - thanks to St Paul, rather than the Gospel-writers - true love casts out all fear.  At its best, it may bear out Christ’s injunctions to love God with all our hearts and minds and love our neighbours as we do ourselves, and be a time of mutual seeking, peace and happiness.

 

Track 4 Fades Out

 

Here is the five-part Hodie Christus Natus Est of the Flemish polyphonist, Jan-Pieterzoon Sweelinck (1562-1621).

 

Track 5:  Hodie Christus Natus Est, Sweelinck

 

 

Really, what matters is that God’s son, the King of Kings, was conceived by an unmarried mother and born in a cattle shed:  the only shelter available to her.  If that doesn’t give us pause in these days of humbug, nothing will.  Add to that that Mary was very likely a teenager and Joseph considerably older, and to some, the brew should become toxic, if they are not hypocrites.  To whom was the conception announced?  Joseph (Matthew) or Mary (Luke)?  Why not both?  One can admire Joseph’s faith and tact (Matthew), and love the woman-centred meaning of Luke’s poetry.  The world needs its centuries of Ave Marias and Magnificats.

 

Track 6:  Ave Maria, Gregorian Chant 

 

That was a Gregorian Plain-Chant setting of Ave Maria.

 

Track 7:  Magnificat,

 

A Magnificat by Thomas Tallis, the great polyphonist and recusant survivor, whose life and professional career extended through the contradictory religious creeds and persecutions of much of the Sixteenth Century.  A recusant, he died in his bed aged 85, having served the church and four tyrannical Tudor monarchs to his utmost.  

 

 

Was there a Roman census in Palestine (Luke)?  Was the Babe laid in a manger, because there was no room for them in the Inn, or was Mary visiting Elizabeth, a kinswoman blessed by late pregnancy, and her husband, Zacharias (as in Matthew)?  After the birth of Jesus, was there a forewarned flight to Egypt and massacre of first-born sons, when the Romans’ cat’s-paw, Herod, heard that a rival King descended from David (Matthew and Luke) had been born to a carpenter and his young wife?

 

The shepherds on the night, according to Luke’s tale, or the wise men - or magicians - somewhat later, according to Matthew - were convinced.  They saw freedom, a gift greater than material riches or fear of the boss - or even the shepherd’s care for his flock, which is his pride and ever-called-on proof of his compassion:  a love to tear down the authority of a king, an occupying power and rotten priesthood:  a child whose face, glowing in the light of a lamp, held them with focusing eyes:  eyes that spoke of a love and understanding, a capacity for compassion and logic that needed no speech to awe with a sermon.  They were eyes of commonwealth, peace, liberty, equality and altruism:  the King was one of us; the King, unelected, told us why we had no need to elect him to be represented - God had come down to live amongst us not in the cool of a mighty palace rich in gold, ivory, silver, precious and semi-precious tones, ebony, high-coloured  faience, peacock feathers, but as the son of a Nazarene carpenter.

 

Track 8:  Nowell Tydynges Trew Be Cum New (Instrumental)

 

Track 9:  Coventry Carol (instrumental)

 

Tyrants and good authorities were left for dead.  Simeon, Bethlehem’s old priest saw Jesus when he was brought to the temple for circumcision and sang, “Lord, now letteth thy servant depart in peace.”  Here is Geoffrey Burgon's setting of the Nunc Dimittis, for voice, trumpet and strings.

 

Track 9:  Nunc Dimittis, Burgon

 

Isn’t that preferable to wood magic of evergreens, holly and mistletoe, tinsel and fairy lights, turkey, mince pies, Christmas cake, wines, liqueurs and innumerable hazarded gifts torn from pretty paper to be pristine for a day before they leave a jealously guarded heap and before they join our other possessions?  Here is John Gardner’s setting of Tomorrow Shall Be My Dancing Day.

 

Track 10:  Tomorrow Shall Be My Dancing Day, Gardner

 

You could tell even a child that your love makes presents under the tree utter trumpery:  that your love is unreserved and will last not for 24 hours but a life long; that you will serve and - if called-upon - die for him or her, comfort and soothe at all hours; encourage it and praise every wonderful development; never feel envy - and more, scold and punish only what is wrong and never take out a bad day on one who has neither the wit nor the desire to fight back.   A child will play happily with that thought - to be loved like that by a fallible adult!  Isn’t it as magical a thought of physical objects that are brought out of nothingness?          

 

            “How the star shines!  Who am I and where am I?”

            - “You are a King in a world filled with kings -

            You live simply to die -

            And were born in a stable.”

 

            “How should I know of love, save that you devise?”

            - “I love you now and for your whole life long,

            And the love in our eyes

            Beyond death shall be well as one.”

 

                        (Poem Copyright, Mike Burrows, 21/12/12)

 

This was Classical; Break, and I’m Rupert Kirkham.  Today’s script was by researched and written by Mike Burrows, and he joins me in wishing you a very happy Christmas and the best of New Years.

 

We leave you with the second part of Finzi’s In Terra Pax:  the second part, truly a revelation from the angels.  In a sense, the agnostic found what he sought after all.  He corrected ages of bad Latin to point out that the correct translation of the angels’ song was:  On earth peace to all men of goodwill!  The entry of the soprano - with the words, “Fear not!” – is unforgettable.  At the hushed close of the piece, one is left with the narrator’s awe and after-echoes of the wonder, Winter darkness, stars and chill.  A memory of hearing bell-ringing on Christmas Eve gave us this beautiful work. However we feel towards at best bogus Coalitions and complex Austerity, let’s make this Christmas a joy for all who are of goodwill!

 

Goodbye. 

 

Track Eleven:  In Terra Pax, Part Two, Finzi

The Production Team at Classical Break – Somer Valley’s outing into the world of classical music – wishes you a Happy Christmas and a peaceful New Year.  Listen to our programme on Saturdays at 9am and Sundays at 8am and 3pm.