This is seldom if ever performed, and the recitalist can be for- given for appropriating this material. Chanson de la rose Barbier, date unknown is a charming trifle, in the same dancing mood as Tarentelle, but without the hair-raising technical difficulties. Hidden shyly towards the back of the volume is Pastel Gille, date unknown. It evokes exactly the gentle charms that its title implies, and is a useful song for recitals built on a theme of art and artists. A small rose-coloured insect. More than the insect on her neck.
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Red back speckled with black. Les fauvettes pour nous voir The warblers, to catch a glimpse of us, Se penchaient dans le feuillage. Craned their necks in the branches. Can we flee the alguazils? Poverty and peril? Comment, disaient-ils, How, said the men, Enchanter les belles Can we bewitch the fair Sans philtres subtils? Without rare potions?
See the ring-doves, see the turtle-doves. Voyez la jeune vigne embrasser les ormeaux, See the young vine embrace the young elm, Et toute chose rire en la saison nouvelle. And all things laugh in the new season. All speak of love, all wish to blaze with love. Remains stubborn and will not love. Spring has just been born. Like a happy glance, is full of sun.
Have awakened love asleep in the woods. Will smile in the grass at your blue eyes. Au matin, la source est plus limpide; Come, let us go! Morning springs are clearer! And talk to you of love beneath the flowering pears! Than their roofs of branch or canvas!
Of wandering among the stars! A fan of green leaves.
More than one maiden will remember you! Farewell, fair stranger! As swiftly as it could. My life has its secret, my soul its mystery. And she, the cause, has never known it. Ever at her side and ever alone. Daring to ask for—and receiving—nothing! The flower sways gracefully. The trace of your winged lover? The butterfly has flown away! Always furrowing the deep waters. Efface the silver wake. Where nothing remains for more than a day. The butterfly is your love.
The flower sways gracefully Darkness has closed the eyes of day. Belle, me tiendras-tu parole? Will you, fair one, be true to your word? Open your heart to my love. As a flower unfolds to the sun! The years have scarcely faded it! That has waited a century for you. When the painter gazed at her?
Did her heart harbour a secret? Sur sa bouche on voit un sourire, The smile you see on her lips, Est-ce ironie, est-ce bonheur? Is it irony or happiness? Que dit-il sous cet air railleur? What does it say beneath its mocking mien? The blackened pages of time? That has waited a century for you! He studied in Frankfurt and Munich, but he also spent part of his studentship in Brussels and Paris.
Complainte has a folksong feel about it, and Ronde is a lat- ter-day danse macabre, lively and appealingly grotesque, with an appearance from the devil. The poetry strikes a melancholy pose which brings out a response from Bloch typical of his highly emotive musical manner; but the Mauclair songs benefit from more interesting texts, and are more useful recital items.
He established traditions of choral singing of the highest order, and his work with his own Chanteurs de Saint-Gervais achieved remarkable standards for the time. He is still admired in Spain for his work on the music of the Basques, and much of his own instrumental music is based on the folksongs of that region of northern Spain. There is little sign of scholastic academicism in his songs, which are inventive, atmos- pheric, and long overdue for reassessment.
A second recueil was published by Hamelle which includes the jolliest of all Verlaine settings, Dansons la gigue! Debussy was to pay Bordes the compliment of lifting this tune as the basis for Gigues, the first of his Images for orches- tra. About the room where long her scent had lingered. That slowly caresses my poor being? Que voudrais-tu de moi, doux chant badin? What would you want of me, sweet playful song?
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Opened a little onto the tiny garden? Paul Verlaine Dansons la gigue! I loved her impish eyes. Dansons la gigue! It was quite charming the way she did! The best of all my memories. Of formidable intelligence and indi- viduality, she studied with her sister Nadia and Paul Vidal, and broadened her horizons through her sojourns in Italy she was the first woman to win the coveted Prix de Rome. And there is no doubt that she meant to make anything other than an urbane impression.
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The poetry of Jammes, a Catholic convert, is partly responsible for the heady mix of sensuality and pudeur which pervades the work. The poems call for a male singer and are written in the first person, but the com- poser observes at a distance. Rather do they suggest some- one passionately religious and religiously passionate, and at a stage in her life where one state of mind was interchangeable with the other.
Still competitive with her sister, Boulanger is determined to establish herself with serious music on a grand scale, and in this she succeeds. It is no surprise that eight of the thirteen songs were orchestrated. If she had been spared to live a long and fulfilled life, she would have astonished us with even finer music. She seems to me to be a composer who was still in the process of growing into her redoubtable gifts. Generations of the pupils of Mademoiselle as her sister Nadia was respect- fully addressed were expected to accept without question her classification of Lili as on a par with Bach and Mozart.
I picked those water-flowers. Her eyes looked like lavender flowers. Par moments son regard She is gravely cheerful. Sometimes I am sad.
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And suddenly, I think of her. Alors, je suis joyeux. Mais je redeviens triste Then, I am overjoyed. I do not know, my friend, if I shall recover Donc nous nous assoierons sur ce banc, tous deux And so we shall sit down on this bench, we two seuls For a long while, my friend, you will not dare Que vous me serez douce et que je tremblerai How gentle you will be with me and how I shall tremble You gazed at me with all your soul.
You gazed at me long like a blue sky. I set your gaze in the shade of my eyes How this gaze was passionate and calm My soul dreams secretly on your lap.
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Ne la repoussez point. Ne la relevez pas, Do not reject it. Two columbines swayed on the hill. I tremble before you and feel abashed. I know what another suffered: for I was two Plus rien. I have nothing more, nothing to soutienne. Why is the day so lovely and why was I born?
Pouvoir dormir. To be able to sleep. To sleep for evermore sous les averses bleues, sous les tonnerres frais. Ne plus sentir. Ne plus savoir votre existence. No longer to feel. No longer to know you exist. Et la campagne est sonore de joie. I write. And the countryside is loud with joy. Boulanger composed a concerto-like Fantaisie for him which he played, and she conducted. These works are much more economical of utterance than her earlier songs. Unlike Messiaen who wrote his own texts Boulez has writ- ten a number of important and masterful works where poetry by important French literary figures is of the essence.
It is a paradox that this poet, himself an ardent Wagnerian, should have become the darling of the French avant-garde. Later songs in French include Ainsi parfois nos seuils and Voici la feuille the latter a typical- ly Bowlesian quirky waltz to his own texts. This duality is typical of the generation of musicians who were able to benefit from the musical influences of both the Schola Cantorum and the Conservatoire. Of these Venise marine is a favourite. This is a pity as songs by this poet are exceedingly rare from French composers, and seem more forthcoming from foreigners see Britten, Henze, Hoiby, Lipatti.
The seedy side of French life did not appeal. He was nevertheless drawn at an early age to the evocative perfume of French literature. These songs are the first of his many stylizations, and an astonishing achievement in one so young. But he did alter the prosody of the vocal line where the composer had wrongly accented the words. This fact was ruefully confirmed in conversations I had with Pierre Bernac. Rimbaud occupies almost a sacred place in French literature, and it is significant that on the whole French composers have left him unset. Maggie Teyte performed this cycle with piano, but the piece requires the colours of the string orchestra to work its magic.
The opera Albert Herring is modelled on a Maupassant story, but Britten returned to the world of French literature only once in his song writing, and then only obliquely. I alone hold the key to this savage parade. Ce sont imagined Alleghanies and Lebanons have been raised! Des chalets de cristal et de bois se meuvent Towns! Chalets of crystal and wood move on invis- sur des rails et des poulies invisibles. Les vieux ible rails and pulleys. Ce sont des These are towns!
Up lines, montent des ravines. Venus et hurle. These et des ermites. Ce sont des Des groupes de beffrois are These are os sort la musique inconnue. Ce sont des villes! Ce towns! These are towns! The paradise of storms sub- sont des villes! Les sides. Savages dance unceasingly the festival of night. Ce sont These are towns! Stained with brown sediment, your creusent. Tes crocs luisent. Your tusks gleam. Your une cithare, des tintements circulent dans tes bras breast resembles a cithara, tintinnabulations course blonds.
Your heart pulses in that ble sexe. Walk forth, at ment cette cuisse, cette seconde cuisse et cette jambe night, gently moving this thigh, that second thigh, de gauche. They swooned against each other. Rip up the bramble roots. Against a background of snow, a tall Being of Beauty. Les couleurs propres glorious flesh. The ashen face, the horsehair escutcheon, the cristal! Several have exploited mondes. Des yeux ence of your consciences. What mature men! Most violent paradise of maddened grimaces!
I alone hold the key to this savage parade! Enough seen. The vision was encountered under all skies. Assez eu. Rumeurs des villes, le soir, et au soleil, et Enough had. Murmurs of the towns at night, and toujours. Assez connu. The decrees of life. Departure into new affection and new clamour! These include settings of such poets as Ronsard, Gautier, and Silvestre and are seldom if ever performed today. When writing in his folksong style he can also, as Koechlin put it, evoke large horizons and a feeling of the open air.
Perhaps this is because the work was written for the famous Scottish soprano Mary Garden. There are also a number of volumes dedicated to the music of other French regions like Champagne, Touraine, and the Basque country. Audiences with a taste for easy listening have always clamoured for more of this music, and these arrangements have even given rise to a film and a ballet.
On the other hand, the hardy simplicity of this music can often seem lost in the lush orchestrations which threaten to overpower the tunes which gave rise to them. It might be thought that the solution is to perform the works with piano, but that too is unsatisfactory. The composer has paid for his great, though lim- ited, popularity; his serious and deeply felt opera Le mas, for example, is not thought to merit a hear- ing. This is high praise indeed, but it reflected a personal connection between singer and composer. Of the composers who followed that master, and attempted to emulate his special world of rarefied and sensual mystery, Caplet is the most important because the most individual.
Caplet confined himself to songs and choral and chamber music in his mature years. If his music has a fault, it is because it is unfailingly fastidious. Even the best of composers needs a little of that push. The latter song was written under enemy fire at the battle front. The poem encourages the com- poser to draw on a wide range of instrumental colour in the piano; the fluidity of the vocal line lends an appropriately rustling magic to the music of the forest. This is supple and full of languor, and generates at the same time a real sense of excitement, even ecstasy.
It seems to breathe an air of post-war relief and a confidence in a new order of friendship between nations. Related Papers. By Dr. By Anna Al-Araj. By Angelica Escobar. By Rachel Rosenman. By Mike Gomez Perez. Download pdf. Remember me on this computer. Dieingly Sad Mr. Down Child Mr. Dream Merchant Mr. Ed Mr. Gallagher And Mr. Shean Mr. Goldstone Mr. Heartache Mr. Jaws Mr.
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