Songs of Innocence and Experience: The Poems of William Blake

Songs of Innocence and Experience: The Poems of William Blake Wednesday, February 7, 2018, at 6:00 p.m.

Northwestern University Henry and Leigh

Bienen School of Music Block Museum of Art

Songs of Innocence and Experience: The Poems of William Blake A collaborative presentation between the Bienen School of Music and the Block Museum of Art

Block Museum Leffman Gallery, Second Floor Songs And Proverbs Of William Blake, Op. 74 Benjamin Britten

Proverb I (1913–1976)

London*+

Proverb II

The Chimney Sweeper

Proverb III

A Poison Tree*+

Proverb IV

The Tyger

Proverb V

The Fly

Proverb VI

Ah! Sun-flower*

Proverb VII

Every Night and Every Morn Eric Olson, baritone Karina Kontorovitch, piano

Gallery Tour of William Blake and the Age of Aquarius

2017–18 season

Jacob Leveton and John Murphy Ph. D candidates in Art History, Northwestern University

Block Museum Pick-Laudati Auditorium, First Floor Ten Blake Songs Ralph Vaughan Williams

Infant Joy+ (1872–1958) Morgan Mastrangelo, tenor Emily Hollingworth, oboe

text

Songs And Proverbs Of William Blake

I. Proverb I The pride of the peacock is the glory of God. The lust of the goat is the bounty of God. The wrath of the lion is the wisdom of God. A Poison Tree*+ The nakedness of woman is the work of God. Christopher LaMountain, tenor Sharon Nakama, oboe II. London I wander thro’ each charter’d street, The Piper Near where the charter’d Thames does flow Pablo Laucerica, tenor And mark in every face I meet Jasper Igusa, oboe Marks of weakness, marks of woe.

London*+ In every cry of every Man, Morgan Mastrangelo, tenor In every Infant’s cry of fear, In every voice, in every ban, The Lamb+ The mind-forg’d manacles I hear.

Christopher LaMountain, tenor Sharon Nakama, oboe How the Chimney-sweeper’s cry Every black’ning Church appalls, The Shepherd And the hapless Soldier’s sigh Pablo Laucerica, tenor Runs in blood down Palace walls.

Ah! Sun-flower* Morgan Mastrangelo, tenor Emily Hollingworth, oboe

But most thro’ midnight streets I hear How the youthful Harlot’s curse Blasts the new-born Infant’s tear And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse.

Cruelty Has A Human Heart Christopher LaMountain, tenor III. Proverb II Sharon Nakama, oboe Prisons are built with stones of Law, Brothels with bricks of Religion.

The Divine Image Pablo Laucerica, tenor IV. The Chimney Sweeper A little black thing among the snow, Eternity Crying ‘weep ‘weep in notes of woe!

Tutti Where are thy father and mother? say?

They are both gone up to the church to pray.

* Poems in common to both cycles Please silence all electronic devices, including pagers, cellular telephones, and wristwatch alarms.

Because I was happy upon the hearth, And smil’d among the winter’s snow They clothed me in the clothes of death, And taught me to sing the notes of woe.

Britten

And because I am happy & dance & sing They think they have done me no injury, And are gone to praise God & his Priest & King Who make up a heaven of our misery.

And what shoulder, & what art, Could twist the sinews of thy heart?

And when thy heart began to beat, What dread hand? & what dread feet?

V. Proverb III The bird a nest, the spider a web, man friendship.

What the hammer? what the chain, In what furnace was thy brain?

What the anvil? what dread grasp, Dare its deadly terrors clasp!

VI. A Poison Tree I was angry with my friend: I told my wrath, my wrath did end.

I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And I water’d it in fears, Night & morning with my tears; And I sunned it with smiles, And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night, Till it bore an apple bright.

And my foe beheld it shine, And he knew that it was mine.

And into my garden stole When the night had veil’d the pole, In the morning glad I see My foe outstretch’d beneath the tree.

VII. Proverb IV Think in the morning.

Act in the noon.

Eat in the evening.

Sleep in the night.

VIII. The Tyger Tyger Tyger, burning bright, In the forests of the night; What immortal hand or eye, Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies Burnt the fire of thine eyes?

On what wings dare he aspire?

What the hand, dare sieze the fire?

When the stars threw down their spears And water’d heaven with their tears: Did he smile his work to see?

Did he who made the Lamb make thee?

Tyger Tyger burning bright, In the forests of the night: What immortal hand or eye, Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

IX. Proverb V The tygers of wrath are wiser than the horses of instruction.

If the fool would persist in his folly he would become wise.

If others had not been foolish, we should be so.

X. The Fly Little Fly, Thy summer’s play My thoughtless hand Has brush’d away.

Am not I A fly like thee?

Or art not thou A man like me?

For I dance And drink & sing: Till some blind hand Shall brush my wing.

If thought is life And strength & breath And the want Of thought is death;

Then am I A happy fly, If I live, Or if I die.

XI. Proverb VI The hours of folly are measur’d by the clock; But of wisdom, no clock can measure.

The busy bee has no time for sorrow.

Eternity is in love with the productions of time.

XII. Ah! Sun-Flower Ah, Sun-flower! weary of time, Who countest the steps of the Sun; Seeking after that sweet golden clime, Where the traveller’s journey is done: Where the Youth pined away with desire, And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow, Arise from their graves and aspire Where my Sun-flower wishes to go.

XIII. Proverb VII To see a World in a Grain of Sand, And a Heaven in a Wild Flower, Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand, And Eternity in an hour.

XIV. Every Night And Every Morn Every night and every morn Some to Misery are Born.

Every Night & every Morn Some are Born to sweet delight.

Some are born to sweet delight, Some are born to endless night.

We are led to believe a lie When we see not thro’ the eye, Which was born in a night to perish in a night, When the soul slept in beams of light.

God appears, and God is light, To those poor souls who dwell in night; But does a human form display To those who dwell in realms of day.

Ten Blake Songs I. Infant Joy “I have no name: I am but two days old.”

What shall I call thee?

“I happy am, Joy is my name.”

Sweet joy befall thee!

Pretty Joy! Sweet Joy, but two days old.

Sweet Joy I call thee: Thou dost smile, I sing the while, Sweet joy befall thee!

II. A Poison Tree I was angry with my friend: I told my wrath, my wrath did end.

I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And I water’d it in fears, Night & morning with my tears; And I sunned it with smiles, And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night, Till it bore an apple bright.

And my foe beheld it shine, And he knew that it was mine.

And into my garden stole When the night had veil’d the pole, In the morning glad I see My foe outstretch’d beneath the tree.

III. The Piper Piping down the valleys wild, Piping songs of pleasant glee, On a cloud I saw a child, And he laughing said to me:

Vaughan Williams

“Pipe a song about a lamb.”

So I piped with merry chear.

“Piper, pipe that song again.”

So I piped: he wept to hear.

“Drop thy pipe, thy happy pipe; Sing thy songs of happy chear.”

So I sang the same again, While he wept with joy to hear.

“Piper, sit thee down and write In a book, that all may read.”

So he vanished from my sight; And I pluck’d a hollow reed.

And I made a rural pen, And I stain’d the water clear, And I wrote my happy songs Every child may joy to hear.

IV. London I wander thro’ each charter’d street, Near where the charter’d Thames does flow And mark in every face I meet Marks of weakness, marks of woe.

In every cry of every Man, In every Infant’s cry of fear, In every voice, in every ban, The mind-forg’d manacles I hear.

How the Chimney-sweeper’s cry Every black’ning Church appalls, And the hapless Soldier’s sigh Runs in blood down Palace walls.

But most thro’ midnight streets I hear How the youthful Harlot’s curse Blasts the new-born Infant’s tear And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse.

V. The Lamb Little Lamb, who made thee?

Dost thou know who made thee?

Gave thee life, and bid thee feed,

By the stream and o’er the mead; Gave thee clothing of delight, Softest clothing woolly, bright; Gave thee such a tender voice, Making all the vales rejoice?

Little Lamb, who made thee?

Dost thou know who made thee?

Little Lamb, I’ll tell thee, Little Lamb, I’ll tell thee: He is callèd by thy name, For He calls Himself a Lamb.

He is meek, and He is mild: He became a little child.

I a child, and thou a lamb, We are callèd by His name.

Little Lamb, God bless thee!

Little Lamb, God bless thee!

VI. The Shepherd How sweet is the Shepherd’s sweet lot!

From the morn to the evening he strays; He shall follow his sheep all the day, And his tongue shall be fillèd with praise.

For he hears the lamb’s innocent call, And he hears the ewe’s tender reply; He is watchful while they are in peace, For they know when their Shepherd is nigh.

VII. Ah! Sun-Flower Ah, Sun-flower! weary of time, Who countest the steps of the Sun; Seeking after that sweet golden clime, Where the traveller’s journey is done: Where the Youth pined away with desire, And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow, Arise from their graves and aspire Where my Sun-flower wishes to go.

VIII. Cruelty Has A Human Heart Cruelty has a human heart, And Jealousy a human face, Terror the human form divine, And Secrecy the human dress.

The human dress is forgèd iron, The human form a fiery forge, The human face a furnace seal’d, The human heart its hungry gorge.

IX. The Divine Image To Mercy, Pity, Peace and Love All pray in their distress; And to these virtues of delight Return their thankfulness.

For Mercy, Pity, Peace and Love Is God, our Father dear, And Mercy, Pity, Peace and Love Is man, His child and care.

For Mercy has a human heart, Pity a human face, And Love, the human form divine, And Peace, the human dress.

Then every man, of every clime, That prays in his distress, Prays to the human form divine, Love, Mercy, Pity, Peace.

And all must love the human form, In heathen, Turk, or Jew; When Mercy, Love and Pity dwell There God is dwelling too.

X. Eternity He who binds to himself a Joy Doth the wingèd life destroy; But he who kisses the Joy as it flies Lives in Eternity’s sunrise.

The look of love alarms, Because it’s fill’d with fire; But the look of soft deceit Shall win the lover’s hire.

bienen concert management office staff

Director of Concert Management Concert Operations Manager Ticketing Manager Marketing Manager Marketing Coordinator Technical Services Manager Technical Services Coordinator Concert Business Manager Supporting Staff Supervisor of Keyboard Maintenance Dean, Bienen School of Music

Jerry Tietz Jason Shadle Sean Brennan Laura Nielsen Corey Glenton Bill Milgram Ford Altenbern Meg Lindsey 150 Northwestern Students Bill Schwarz Toni-Marie Montgomery

block museum of art staff

The Ellen Philips Katz Director

Lisa Graziose Corrin

Engagement Staff: Associate Director of Engagement/Curator of Public Practice Susy Bielak Engagement Manager Lauren Cochard Watkins Temporary Engagement Manager Melanie Sympson Engagement Coordinator Holly Warren Communications Manager Lindsay Bosch Communications Coordinator Caroline Clafin William Blake and the Age of Aquarius Curators

Stephen F. Eisenman & Corinne Granof