Resounding Verse (Stephen Rodgers)

Thomas Walsh's poem and Mary Turner Salter's setting of it capture the moment between day and night—and the desire to linger in that moment as long as possible.

The episode features the first-ever recording of Mary Turner Salter's "Afterglow," performed by soprano Camille Ortiz and pianist Gustavo Castro and engineered by Joseph Wenda. I commissioned the recording for Art Song Augmented, my website devoted to art songs by underrepresented composers. Learn more about Salter's songs, access her song scores, and hear three other performances by Ortiz and Castro on her Art Song Augmented page.

You can find the score to Salter's song here and a video recording here.

Afterglow
by Thomas Walsh

Over the orchard one great star;
The mellow moon—; and the harvest done;
And the cheek of the river crimsoned far
From the kiss of the vanished sun.

Francis Jammes's poem depicts two lovers who sit on a bench, alone together under the shade of overhanging branches. But it's not clear if the scene is real or imaginary. In her setting of the text, Lili Boulanger heightens the poem's sense of mystery—and also the poetic speaker's anxiety that the blissful moment may only be a figment of his imagination.

You can find the score to Boulanger's song here.

The episode features the a recording of the song by tenor Nicholas Phan and pianist Myra Huang, from their CD Clairières: Songs by Lili and Nadia Boulanger.

Learn more about Boulanger's songs, access her scores, and hear another performance by Phan and Huang on my website Art Song Augmented, an online forum devoted to songs by underrepresented composers.

Nous nous aimerons tant
by Francis Jammes

Nous nous aimerons tant que nous tairons nos mots,
en nous tendant la main, quand nous nous reverrons.
Vous serez ombragée par d'anciens rameaux
sur le banc que je sais où nous nous assoirons.
Donc nous nous assoirons sur ce banc, tous deux seuls.
D'un long moment, ô mon amie, vous n'oserez...
Que vous me serrez douce et que je tremblerai...

We will love each other so much that we won't speak 
but just stretch out our hands to each other when we see each other again. 
You will be in the shadow of ancient branches, 
on the bench where I know we will sit. 
So we'll sit on that bench, alone together.
For a long moment, o my sweetheart, you won't dare... 
How sweet you will be to me, and how I will tremble...

Carolyn Forché's 46-page poem "On Earth" forms the basis for a song cycle called The Blue Hour, which was composed by five women—Caroline Shaw, Shara Nova, Rachel Grimes, Angelica Negrón, and Sarah Kirkland Snider—and just released on CD this month by Nonesuch and New Amsterdam Records.

This episode looks at one of Caroline Shaw's contributions to the cycle, a song that embraces Bach and plainchant and, in just over three minutes, captures the immensity of time and the cosmos.

The episode features a recording of the song by the chamber ensemble A Far Cry, with Shara Nova.

You can find the score to The Blue Hour here.

Please also check out my episode on Caroline Shaw's "A Gradual Dazzle."

Firmament
an excerpt from Carolyn Forché's "On Earth"

firmament, fissure, flare stars, frottage

fragments from the Second Brandenburg
fresh wind of the linens
from a gloved hand a flaming bottle
from chance to chance, event to event
from earth to satellite, event to event
from our last train ride through the ricefields
from the cathedral comes Kyrie

We know very little about the German composer Marie von Kehler (1822–1882), who served as a "lady in waiting" to a princess and seems to have been acquainted with Johannes Brahms. But we do know that she wrote over eighty songs that were published over a decade after her death—none of which had ever been recorded until Stephan Loges and Jocelyn Freeman recorded four of them for my website Art Song Augmented. This episode looks at one of the best Kehler song's, a setting of a poem by Julius Sturm about a strange prayer that someone says to a beloved who has wounded him.

For more information on Marie von Kehler's songs, go to her page on Art Song Augmented and check out my blog post on her on the Women's Song Forum.

Nur einmal möcht' ich dir noch sagen
Julius Sturm

Nur einmal möcht' ich dir noch sagen,
Wie du unendlich lieb mir bist,
Wie dich, so lang mein Herz wird schlagen,
Auch meine Seele nie vergißt.

Kein Wörtlein solltest du erwidern,
Nur freundlich mir in's Auge sehn,
Ja, mit gesenkten Augenlidern
Nur stumm und schweigend vor mir stehn.

Ich aber legte meine Hände
Dir betend auf das schöne Haupt,
Damit dir Gott den Frieden sende,
Den meiner Seele du geraubt.

———

Just once yet I would like to tell you
How endlessly dear you are to me,
How as long as my heart still beats
My soul, too, will never forget you.

You need not reply with a single word,
Just look kindly into my eyes,
Yes, with lowered eyelids
Just stand before me, speechless and quiet.

But I laid my hands
Prayerfully upon your beautiful head,
So that God might send you the peace
That you have stolen from me.

Thanks to Sharon Krebs for her help with the English translation.

Connie Converse was one of the first singer-songwriters, an uncommon talent who predated Bob Dylan and Joan Baez. But she was barely known in her day, and after making a handful of low-fi recordings in the 1950s, she disappeared in 1974. Her songs weren't widely known until some of those low-fi recordings were released on CD in 2009. This episode looks at one of her most affecting songs, which appears on Walking in the Dark, a recent album by soprano Julia Bullock, in an arrangement by Jeremy Siskind. Julia Bullock performs the song with Christian Reif.

For more information on Connie Converse's songs, go to her page on my website, Art Song Augmented.

Also, be on the lookout for Howard Fishman's book about Connie Converse, To Anyone Who Ever Asks: The Life, Music, and Mystery of Connie Converse, which is forthcoming in May 2023.

One by One
Connie Converse

We go walking in the dark.
We go walking out at night.
And it's not as lovers go,
Two by two, to and fro,
But it's one by one.

One by one in the dark
We go walking out at night.
As we wander through the grass
We can hear each other pass,
But we're far apart.

Far apart in the dark
We go walking out at night.
With the grass so dark and tall
We are lost past recall
If the moon is down.

And the moon is down.
We are walking in the dark.
If I had your hand in mine,
I could shine, I could shine
Like the morning sun,
Like the sun.

The Haitian-American composer Nathalie Joachim transforms a Haitian hymn, and in so doing creates a multi-layered tapestry of sound that evokes the many voices of Haiti—past, present, and future.

"Resevwa Li" comes from Joachim's Grammy-nominated 2019 album Fanm d'Ayiti (New Amsterdam Records), featuring the Spektral Quartet.

Resevwa Li

Men n’ap proche devan ou Granmèt
Avèk tout ti kado n yo papa
Li mèt tout piti kou li ye,
Tanpri resevwa li

Adye papa souple
Kisa pou m ta ba ou
Ou ki fè tout bagay
Ou ki mèt tout bagay

Kado nou pot pou ou
Se tout jefò n ap fe
Pou peyi n devlope
Pou lavi nou pi bèl.

Receive Them

We come before you, God
With all of our little gifts, Father
As little as they may be
Please receive them

Oh father, please
What should I give you
You, who make everything
You, who create everything

The gifts we bring to you
Are all of our efforts
To benefit our country
For our lives to be the most beautiful

translation by Nathalie Joachim

Arthur Symons's poem captures a lazy June afternoon, with a fountain burbling and the moon hanging in the sky, waiting for the coming of night. Elizabeth Maconchy transforms the poem into a song of mesmerizing stillness and beauty.

The episode features a world-premiere recording by soprano Joanna Songi and pianist Matthew Fletcher, based on an unpublished manuscript found in the Maconchy archive at St. Hilda's College, Oxford. You can find a YouTube video of their performance here.

For an illuminating look at Maconchy's life and work, see the final chapter of Anna Beer's book Sounds and Sweet Airs: The Forgotten Women of Classical Music.

Also please check out the Maconchy page on my website Art Song Augmented, which includes another recording by Songi and Fletcher, as well as additional resources and access to scores.

In Fountain Court
by Arthur Symons

The fountain murmuring of sleep,
A drowsy tune;
The flickering green of leaves that keep
The light of June;
Peace, through a slumbering afternoon,
The peace of June.

A waiting ghost, in the blue sky,
The white curved moon;
June, hushed and breathless, waits, and I
Wait too, with June;
Come, through the lingering afternoon,
Soon, love, come soon.

Have you ever felt as though a single moment—gazing into someone's eyes, listening to a passage of music, looking at a landscape—transports you to another realm? Maurice Bouchor's poem is about just this kind of experience, an experience that the French composer Mel Bonis transforms into a magical sound world that deftly blends Romanticism and Impressionism.

The episode features a recording of the song by Hélène Guilmette and Matin Dubé, from an album called L'Heure Rose.

For more information about Mel Bonis, go to the Mel Bonis website, maintained by Christine Géliot. You can also learn more about her songs at my website Art Song Augmented.

Songe (an excerpt from Vers le pur amour)
by Maurice Bouchor

Guidé par de beaux yeux candides,
Dans ma barque féerique aux reflets d'argent fin,
Vers l'amour, je voudrais faire voile sans fin
Sur des rêves bleus et splendides,

Vers l'amour dont le souffle frais
Berce des champs de fleurs dans une île enchantée
Et qui, pour apaiser mon âme tourmentée,
M'ouvrira de saintes forêts.

Et plus tard, quand, loin de la terre,
O Viola ! Guérie des brûlantes langueurs,
Nous irons caresser les songes de nos coeurs
Dans l'île heureuse du mystère.

Dans le libre ciel des esprits,
Quand nous aurons quitté la nature mortelle,
Ne goûterons-nous pas une paix éternelle ?
Rêveusement, tu me souris.

———

Guided by beautiful, innocent eyes,
In my magic boat with reflections of fine silver,
Toward love I would like to sail endlessly
On blue and splendid dreams.

Toward love, whose fresh breath
Cradles fields of flowers in an enchanted island,
And which, to appease my tormented soul,
Will open holy forests to me. 

And later, far from the earth,
O Viola, cured of burning languor,
We will go to caress the dreams of our hearts
On the happy island of mystery.

In the free sky of the spirits,
When we have left our mortal nature,
Will we not taste eternal peace?
Dreamily, you smile at me.

The title track from Rhiannon Giddens's recent album You're the One—which was just released by Nonesuch Records—is a love song, but not one about two adults; it's about a moment Giddens experienced with her newborn son, pressing her cheek against his and realizing that her world would never be the same again.

In this episode I reference a book by Matt BaileyShea called Lines and Lyrics: An Introduction to Poetry and Song. If you're interested in learning more about how words and music relate in pop songs and art songs and everything in between, I'd urge  you check out his book. It's superb, and really accessible to specialists and non-specialists alike.

You're the One
by Rhiannon Giddens (the song was cowritten with Lalenja Harrington)

I knew you were the one 
Were my one and only
And I knew 
That you would always know me 
Cause you were the one 
Who kept me from feeling 
So sad and lonely in my life and

I never knew 
Life could be so wonderful
That there could be someone 
Who was so beautiful
And I never knew  
That I could be so free  
To love someone like you and 

I wanna love you forever 
And I’ll be with you  
For worse and for better 
And I never thought I’d fall  
But you’re the one  

I thought my life was drawn  
In shades of gray and  
That washow 
I would live my everyday and  
Aimless no direction found
My destiny was going through the motions of a life and

Then you came along  
With your sweet sweet smile and  
Then you put your cheek  
Right next to mine and  
All those shades of gray slowly turned into a  
New technicolor world and  

I’m gonna love you forever  
And I’ll be with you  
For worse and for better  
And I never thought I’d fall  

And I’m gonna love you forever and  
I’ll be with you for worse and for better  
And I never thought I’d fall  
But you’re the one  

You’re the one 
Your smile contains the sun
Rays of glory  
You’re the one

The Mass for the Endangered, by Nathaniel Bellows and Sarah Kirkland Snider, appeals not to God but to nature itself and (in Snider's words) takes the "musical modes of spiritual contemplation" associated with the Latin mass and applies them to "concern for non-human life—animals, plants, and the environment."

The third movement of the Mass, "Alleluia," describes the brutal destruction of the natural world yet at the same time offers a promise of renewal.

The episode features a recording of the movement by Gallicantus, under the direction of Gabriel Crouch; an album of the entire Mass was released in 2020 by New Amsterdam and Nonesuch Records.

If you're interested in learning about another haunting collaboration by Bellows and Snider, check out my podcast episode on "The River," from their song cycle Unremembered.

Alleluia
Nathaniel Bellows

Sea of cradle, foundling,
current, cold and quelled as morning.
Braid of vapored ashes,
shadowed creche, collapsing.

Contour, carve, corrode—
breathe through camphor, coal,
seed each breeze with gold.
Poison, parch, pollute—
plow the coast, the dune,
flow toward constant moon. 

Alleluia

Hearth of stone, of tar, of lava,
shelter shielding mother.
Oh, save us mother!   

She who is sleeping,
Is she who will wake.  

Fracture, foist, defoul—
shatter cliff and shoal,
sand each stone to whole.
Harbored, held, unharmed—
she’ll wake, rise, rejoin,
her daughters and her sons. 

Alleluia 

In Julia Johnson Davis's poem "To My Little Son," a mother imagines what her baby boy will look like when he's twenty-one years old, and wonders whether, when he's grown up, she'll see glimmers of the boy in the man. Thinking of her own son, Florence Price turned to Davis's poem and created a song that is nuanced, affecting, and deeply personal.

The recording of “To My Little Son” is by soprano Arwen Myers and pianist Monica Ohuchi.

Learn more about Price's songs, access scores, and hear video performances of her songs by bass-baritone Justin Hopkins and pianist Jeanne-Minette Cilliers, and countertenor Darryl Taylor and pianist Deborah Hollist on Art Song Augmented, my website devoted to art songs by underrepresented composers.

To My Little Son
by Julia Johnson Davis

In your face I sometimes see
Shadowings of the man to be,
And eager, dream of what my son 
Shall be in twenty years and one.

But when you are to manhood grown,
And all your manhood ways are known,
Then shall I, wistful, try to trace
The child you once were in your face.

Maya Angelou's poem "Phenomenal Woman" tells women that they don't have to conform to conventional ideas of femininity. Farayi Malek uses her voice to amplify Angelou's, and to lift up the voices of other women who at times struggle to feel comfortable in their own skin—and who deserve to feel phenomenal just as they are.

The recording of "Phenomenal Woman" features the following musicians:

Farayi Malek, voice
Jason Yeager, piano
Margaux Vranken, organ
Aaron Holthus, bass
Jas Kayser, drums
Lihi Haruvi, alto sax
Kiera Harman, trombone 
Aiden Lombard, trumpet

Phenomenal Woman
by Maya Angelou

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

In Nikolaus Lenau's poem "Scheideblick" (Parting Glance) a man leaves his beloved and, as he departs, imagines sinking his happiness into the ocean. Josephine's Lang's setting of the poem evokes the ebb and flow of the sea, and also the ebb and flow of the emotions associated with it.

For more on Josephine Lang, see Harald and Sharon Krebs's book Josephine Lang: Her Life and Songs.

The recording of “Scheideblick” is by mezzo-soprano Milagro Vargas and pianist Susan Manoff.

Learn more about Lang's songs, access her song scores, and hear video performances of six of her songs by tenor Kyle Stegall and pianist Eric Zivian on Art Song Augmented, my website devoted to art songs by underrepresented composers.

Scheideblick
by Nikolaus Lenau

Als ein unergründlich Wonnemeer
Strahlte mir dein tiefer Seelenblick;
Scheiden musst’ ich ohne Wiederkehr,
Und ich habe scheidend all mein Glück
Still versenkt in dieses tiefe Meer.

Like an unfathomable ocean of joy
Your soulful gaze shone for me;
I had to take leave, knowing I would never return,
And as I departed I quietly sank 
All my happiness into this deep ocean.

Announcing a new podcast about poetry and song. Join music theorist Stephen Rodgers as he explores how composers transform words into songs. Each episode discusses one poem and one musical setting of it. The music is diverse—covering a variety of styles and time periods, and focusing on composers from underrepresented groups—and the tone is accessible and personal. If you love poetry and song, no matter your background and expertise, this show is for you. Episodes are 20-30 minutes long and air on the first of every month. The podcast launches on Tuesday, June 1, with a batch of three episodes.

The trailer features a clip from Farayi Malek's song "Phenomenal Woman" (sung by the composer) and Josephine Lang's song "Scheideblick" (performed by mezzo-soprano Milagro Vargas and pianist Susan Manoff).

The protagonist in Edna St. Vincent Millay's poem looks upon a tree that has died and wonders what caused it to wither. She stands apart from the scene, awed and perplexed, but at a crucial moment enters the scene and takes a decisive action. In H. Leslie Adams's song, that action seems even more decisive—and even more brutal.

The recording of "Branch by Branch" is by Darryl Taylor and Robin Guy, and comes from a CD called Love Rejoices: Songs of H. Leslie Adams.

Branch by Branch
by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Branch by branch this tree has died.
Green only is one last bough
Moving its leaves in the sun.
What evil ate its root,
What blight,
What ugly thing?
Let the mole say,
The bird sing,
Or the white worm behind the shedding bark
Tick in the dark.
You and I have only one thing to do,
Saw, saw, saw the trunk through.

Robert Frost’s “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” is one of the most famous poems in the English language, and it has been set to music by many composers. This episode explores an extraordinarily inventive setting by the Black American composer Margaret Bonds (1913–1972), recently recorded by bass-baritone Justin Hopkins and pianist Jeanne-Minette Cilliers.

This recording comes from a playlist created by Hopkins and Cilliers, which includes performances of music by Florence Price and Margaret Bonds.

To access a published score to the song, see Louise Toppin's anthology Rediscovering Margaret Bonds: Art Songs, Spirituals, Musical Theater and Popular Songs. Toppin, a professor of voice at University of Michigan who has been a longtime advocate for Bonds's music and the music of other African American composers, has also done a wonderful video recording of the song. See also the list of Bonds works published by Hildegard Publishing Company.

Learn more about Bonds's songs, access her song scores, and hear another performance by Hopkins and Ciliers on Art Song Augmented, my website devoted to art songs by underrepresented composers.

Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
by Robert Frost

Whose woods these are I think I know.   
His house is in the village though;   
He will not see me stopping here   
To watch his woods fill up with snow.   

My little horse must think it queer   
To stop without a farmhouse near   
Between the woods and frozen lake   
The darkest evening of the year.  

He gives his harness bells a shake   
To ask if there is some mistake.   
The only other sound’s the sweep   
Of easy wind and downy flake.  

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,   
But I have promises to keep,   
And miles to go before I sleep,   
And miles to go before I sleep.

Kendra Preston Leonard's poem and Lisa Neher's song—about a man who sells fresh fruit on a summer day—celebrate something sumptuous where we would least expect it.

The performance of the song is by Arwen Myers, who is also featured in a previous episode about a song by Florence Price.

Be sure to check out other collaborations by Kendra Preston Leonard and Lisa Neher,  especially the works in their micro-opera festival. 

Strawberry Man
by Kendra Preston Leonard

The Strawberry Man
and his little pinto pony
Sweetness, slaked
in the city street

Poem reproduced with permission from the author

The 21st-century Mexican composer Rodrigo Ruiz sets a text by the 19th-century German writer Heinrich Heine. In so doing, Ruiz channels 19th-century musical style and offers a deeply moving interpretation of a poem about the loss of love and the death of an artistic tradition that Heine once held dear.

The performance of the song features soprano Grace Davidson and pianist Christopher Glynn.

The song appears on the CD An Everlasting Dawn.  Check out Ruiz's recent CD of chamber works, Behold the Stars, on the Signum Classics label, and be on the lookout for Signum's release of his song cycle Venus & Adonis.

Sag, wo ist dein schönes Liebchen
by Heinrich Heine

Sag, wo ist dein schönes Liebchen,
Das du einst so schön besungen,
Als die zaubermächtgen Flammen
Wunderbar dein Herz durchdrungen?

Jene Flammen sind erloschen,
Und mein Herz ist kalt und trübe,
Und dies Büchlein ist die Urne
Mit der Asche meiner Liebe.

———

Tell me, where is your beautiful sweetheart
That you once sang of so beautifully 
When the magical flames of love
Wonderfully pierced your heart?

Each flame is burnt out,
And my heart is cold and grey,
And this little book is the urn
With the ashes of my love.

Anne Carson's poem and Caroline Shaw's mesmerizing setting of it meditate on the feeling of being in and out of time.

The recording of the song, which appears on the album Let The Soil Play Its Simple Part (Nonesuch, 2021), features Caroline Shaw and Sō Percussion (Eric Cha-Beach, Josh Quillen, Adam Sliwinski, and Jason Treuting).

Nathaniel Bellows’ poem and Sarah Kirkland Snider's haunting setting of it—from her song cycle Unremembered—revisit the site of a childhood trauma and meditate on innocence and the mechanisms of memory.  

The performance of the song features vocalists Padma Newsome, DM Stith, and Shara Worden, and the Unremembered Orchestra (members of ACME, Alarm Will Sound, ICE, The Knights, and Sō Percussion), conducted by Edwin Outwater.

In the episode I discuss Nathaniel Bellows' illustration that accompanies his poem; you can find this illustration, as well as the others associated with the song cycle, on the Unremembered website.

The River
by Nathaniel Bellows

On the banks
The wash so brown
The shadows blue
They’re black

I saw the form
Astride the loam
Splayed out upon
Its back

A bear, a dog
A bed, a log
A child’s eyes
Are pure

Until the hands
Of the missing man
Were clear against
The dew

The river’s flow
A blackened bow
That tied around
Our town

Had sapped his life
Like a lantern’s light
Buried
Underground