Temple Music Temple Song 2013

Monday 18 March 2013, 7:30pm Middle Temple Hall

Temple Song 2013

James Gilchrist Julius Drake

tenor

piano

This concert is generously supported by Individuals of One Essex Court

PURCELL (realised by Britten) Job’s Curse Three divine hymns Lord, what is man?

We sing to hym Evening hymn

BRITTEN Seven Sonnets of Michelangelo Si come nella penna (XVI) A che più debb’ io mai (XXXI) Veggio co’ bei vostri ochhi (XXX) Tu sa’ chi’io so, signor mie (XXXVII) Rendete agli occhi miei (XXXVIII) S’un casto amor (XXXII) Spirto ben nato (XXIV) INTERVAL

BRITTEN Um Mitternacht (Goethe)

SCHUBERT (Goethe settings) Ganymed Schäfers Klagelied Wandrers Nachtlied Der Musensohn

BRITTEN The Holy Sonnets of John Donne Oh my blacke soule!

Batter my heart O might those sighes and teares Oh, to vex me What if this present Since she whom I lov’d At the round earths imagined corners Thou hast made me Death, be not proud

Programme notes Henry Purcell was one of Britten’s favourite composers, whose influence can be detected in a number of works such as the festival cantata Rejoice in the Lamb (1943). In 1945, the 250th anniversary of Purcell’s death, Britten composed The Holy Sonnets of John Donne and the Second String quartet, both of which are reminiscent of Purcell’s style – expressively angular vocal lines in the former, and the most Purcellian of chaconnes in the finale of the latter. And the following year he composed The Young Person’s Guide to the Orchestra, based on a hornpipe theme from Purcell’s Abdelazar. Britten’s realizations of Purcell’s songs and instrumental music – like his realizations of Dido and Aeneas and The Fairy Queen – are the result of what Tippett calls his and Britten’s ‘personal discovery of Purcell’, and their burning wish to share this love of Purcell’s music with a larger audience.

Purcell’s Job’s curse, originally written for soprano, soprano and bass with basso continuo, was first published in 1688. The text is a paraphrase by Jeremy Taylor of Job 3. Britten’s realization was given its first performance by Britten and Pears on 4 April 1948 in the Kleine Zaal of the Concertgebouw in Amsterdam. In an essay, On Realizing the Continuo in Purcell’s Songs (1959), Britten explained how in ‘Job’s Curse’ he had ‘taken the liberty of repeating the last four bass bars as a little codetta after the voice has finished, in order to let the impact of this tremendous scena die away more gradually. It is however printed in small notes and can be omitted very easily.’

The Three Divine Hymns were composed in 194445 and dedicated to Imogen Holst, who had been musical assistant to Britten from 1952-64, and was co-director of the Aldeburgh Festival from 19561997. Lord, what is man? sets a text by William Fuller which is a paraphrase of Psalm 8: 4-9, and We sing to him, first published in 1688, has a text by Nathaniel Ingelo. Britten commented on these realizations in the above-mentioned essay: ‘Lord, what is man’ is in three fully worked out sections. The austere recitative which starts this fine hymn I have accompanied quite barely: a turn for each of the long pedal notes – later a

trill at the more animated ‘Reveal ye glorious spirits’ – chords at each change of harmony; and I echo the vocal run as ‘joy’ fades out into ‘astonishment’. In the arioso ‘Oh, for a quill’ the little quaver passages in the piano part are all suggested by the voice or bass part, and by the intense though subdued mood of longing. The final ‘Hallelujah’ starts quietly – in figuration, largely octave doubling of the bass. I have added semiquaver figures as the momentum grows, and as the movement fades out into a soft ecstatic finish (which is the way we always do it) the right hand crosses and re-crosses the voice in flowing semiquavers. The splendid opening tune of ‘We sing to him’ suggests to me the singing of a thousand voices, so the accompaniment is in full ringing chords.

Evening hymn, to another text by Fuller, is one of Britten’s greatest realizations – a spiritual meditation of serene intensity composed on a ground bass, with an extended passage of florid alleluias at the close.

Prince Ludwig of Hesse, to whom Britten dedicated his Sechs Hölderlin-Fragmente (1958), presented the composer a year later with a copy of Goethe’s complete poems. Britten, having marked over twenty poems that he considered suitable for musical setting, decided to set only one: Um Mitternacht, a poem that Zelter had composed in 1818 to such a memorable melody. As in Schubert’s ‘Der Gondelfahrer’, we hear the twelve tolling chords in the piano’s lower register, each one rooted on a different pitch of the chromatic scale.

Throughout his song-writing career, Britten – despite his fondness of Aldeburgh and East Anglia – continually reached out to other cultures and languages. While still at school, and not yet 15, he composed his Four French Songs to poems by Hugo and Verlaine. That was in 1928. Les Illuminations followed in 1939, astonishing tour-de-force settings of Rimbaud. The florid Seven Sonnets of Michelangelo date from 1950, the first of Britten’s song-cycles written for the voice of Peter Pears. Then, in 1957, came the Songs from the Chinese, brief, concise and aphoristic. A year later, in 1958, he turned from Italian to German, and composed the Lieder-like PAGE 3

Sechs Hölderlin-Fragmente. And finally, The Poet’s Echo, six Russian songs to poems by Pushkin, was composed in 1965 for Galina Vishnevskaya, for whom he had written the soaring soprano part in the War Requiem.

It is not surprising that Britten warmed to Michelangelo’s sonnets; they were, after all, an expression of the octogenarian artist’s love for the young Tommaso Cavalieri and, as such, a scarcely veiled expression of Britten’s own affection for Peter Pears, whom he had met four years earlier in 1936.

There is a muscular lyricism in these songs that we have not seen in the previous song collections; it is as if Britten is reinterpreting the bel canto tradition, allowing the vocal line to determine the shape of the songs. The cycle is meticulously planned to climax in the final song. The noble tone of the opening, marked tempo giusto, Si come nella penna (Sonnet XVI), is conveyed by the marcato octaves that double the voice; the second song, A che più debb’io mai (Sonnet XXXI), should, according to Britten, be performed con moto appassionato to convey the ‘intensa voglia’ (‘ardent desire’) of the poem, which invokes death and, in its final lines, puns on the name of Cavalieri: ‘Resto prigion d’un Cavalier armato’. The song ends on a quiet C minor chord, thus introducing the andante tranquillo of the third song, Veggio co’ bei vostri occhi (Sonnet XXX) which, with its Verdi-like lyricism and radiant G major opening, expresses Michelangelo’s utter dependence on his beloved. The fourth song, Tu sa, ch’io so (Sonnet LV) starts restlessly (poco presto ed agitato) but attains an extraordinary serenity at ‘Quel che nel tuo bel volto bramo’ (‘That which I yearn for in your lovely face’). Rendete agli occhi miei (Sonnet XXXVIII) is marked allegretto quasi una serenata, and conjures up the serenader’s guitar and the plashing fountain; while S’un casto amor (Sonnet XXXII) with its tumbling semiquavers seems to mock gently the rapidity of Italian speech. The cycle ends with Spirto ben nato (Sonnet XXIV), a song that speaks of the perfection and immortality of love. The grandeur of the theme is reflected in the gravity of Britten’s music, which begins with a solemn introduction and ends with a grave coda.

James Gilchrist and Julius Drake begin their Schubert PAGE 4

group with a setting of Goethe’s Ganymed whose opening verse describes a common enough human experience: that of lying stretched out on a hill in springtime. The poet then goes on to express the oneness of all things, man, nature and creator, and addresses Spring as a lover. Ganymede in myth was raised up to Olympus by Zeus, who had fallen in love with the boy and wished him to be his cup-bearer.

Zeus flew down from Heaven as an eagle (as we see in Rembrandt’s wonderful painting in Dresden) and soared aloft with his prey. In typical Sturm und Drang fashion, Goethe changes the myth and has Ganymede borne aloft by the intensity of his own feelings – a process that is given almost tangible form by Schubert’s key-design, from A flat to F major via G flat and E major, also by the melismatic setting of the final phrase, and the soaring postlude of minims and semibreves, marked pp and diminuendo.

Schäfers Klagelied dates from1814. C minor turns in the central verses to A flat major/minor; then suddenly, with a succession of sforzandi, we are in the midst of the storm – in nature and the poet’s heart. Richard Capell, writing of the song, calls it ‘dainty, amusingly dainty’, an apt description of Zelter’s version but not Schubert’s, which is surely a cry from the heart.

Schubert composed two Wandrers Nachtlieder to poems by Goethe. The first, ‘Der du von dem Himmel bist’, was sent by Goethe to Charlotte von Stein, a lady-in-waiting at the Weimar Court, married to the Master of the Horse, and mother of seven children. Of all the women in Goethe’s life, it was Charlotte who exercised the greatest influence on him. Some of his greatest lyric poems – including ‘Jägers Abendlied’, ‘Rastlose Liebe’ and ‘An den Mond’ – were addressed to her, and she also inspired the roles of Iphigenia in Iphigenia auf Tauris and Leonora von Este in Torquato Tasso. Above all she ‘Poured the balm of composure into my hot blood’ (‘Tropftest Mässigung dem heissen Blute’), as Goethe wrote in ‘Warum gabst du uns die tiefen Blicke’, the autobiographical poem in which he pays tribute to the way in which she calmed his Sturm und Drang spirit. Schubert’s song begins as a prayer, before the beat quickens in bars 5 and 6, where the semiquaver right-hand chords suggest the commotion of the world-weary wanderer; the song

ends with an invocation to peace which Schubert marks etwas geschwinder, as though by quickening the pace he could accelerate the serenity for which the poet so yearned.

The second Wandrers Nachtlied begins with the immortal lines ‘Über allen Gipfeln/Ist Ruh’. Part lyric, part epigram, its theme – the transience of existence – has attracted more than 60 composers, including Reichardt, Zelter, Loewe, Schumann, Liszt and Charles Ives (‘Ilmenau’). The poem was written by Goethe on the evening of 6 September 1780; apparently spontaneous, it was scribbled by the poet on a wall of Duke Carl August’s shooting-box on the Gickelhahn, the highest of the hills surrounding Ilmenau, near Weimar. On the same day Goethe wrote to Charlotte von Stein: ‘I spent the night on the Gickelhahn to get away from the turmoil of the town and the incorrigible confusion of human kind.

The sky is utterly clear and I walk to enjoy the sunset. The view is immense but simple.’ Goethe was actually known as ‘Der Wanderer’ among his family and closest friends (see Dichtung und Wahrheit, Book 12), and this poem is undeniably autobiographical: the notion of impending death is suggested by the progression from large open spaces (‘Gipfeln’), via tree-tops (‘Wipfeln’) to the enclosed forest and the coffin. There is no better example in all music of how a great poem, even though it is corrupted by Schubert’s repetition of certain words, can be recreated and perhaps even surpassed by a composer of genius.

Der Musensohn dates from 1822; Schubert’s syphilis had yet to be diagnosed, and this is one of the most joyous song he ever composed, a sort of winged dance as the son of the muses flits his indefatigable way through the landscape. Goethe quotes the beginning of the poem in his autobiography Dichtung und Wahrheit (Part 4, Chapter 16) as exemplifying the way in which his poetical effusions used to pour out of him. He describes how he would wake up in the middle of the night and rush to his desk in order to write down poems such as ‘Der Musensohn’ that were already fully formed in his brain; and how he preferred to use a pencil, since the scratching of the quill would disturb his ‘somnabulistic writing’.

The Holy Sonnets of John Donne were completed a mere three weeks after Britten and Yehudi Menuhin had given two concerts on 27 July 1945 to the liberated survivors at Belsen after the end of the Second World War. Menuhin, in his Unfinished Journey (London, Macdonald, 1977) recalls the moment: [...] At Belsen we played twice in one afternoon. I shall not forget that afternoon as long as I live.

The inmates of the camp had been liberated some weeks earlier, the prison huts burned down, and the ex-prisoners transferred to the adjoining SS barracks, which had, among other comforts, a theatre. Men and women alike, our audience was dressed in army blankets, fashioned by clever tailors among them into skirts and suits. No doubt a few weeks since their rescue they had put a little flesh on their bones, but to our unaccostomed eyes they seemed desperately haggard, and many were still in hospital. [...]

Although Britten had been reading Donne’s poetry for at least two years (there is an incomplete sketch for voice and piano of ‘Stay, O Sweet, and do not rise’ that probably dates from 1941 during the composer’s sojourn in America), there can be no doubt that The Holy Sonnets of John Donne reflect the harrowing experiences of that visit to the concentration camp. The themes of these remarkable poems are death and repentance, and it is clear that both Britten and Pears had the greatest admiration for the poetry of Donne, the finest preacher of the Elizabethan age. In a letter to Elizabeth Mayer, dating from 13 February 1943, Peter Pears had written: ‘[...] Ben and I have been re-reading Donne lately – those wonderful holy sonnets, and especially the Hymn to God the Father’; and Britten in a letter of 6 August 1945 had written rather mischievously: ‘But it’s heaven to be dealing with Donne instead of Montagu!’ [Montagu Slater, the librettist of Peter Grimes]. The Holy Sonnets were premiered by Britten and Pears at the Wigmore Hall on 22 November 1945. In an attempt to elucidate these difficult poems, I have appended footnotes for this evening’s recital.

Richard Stokes © 2013 PAGE 5

Texts and translations Job’s Curse (Jeremy Taylor 1613-1667) Let the night perish, cursed be the morn Wherein ‘twas said: there is a manchild born!

Let not the Lord regard that day, but shroud Its fatal glory in some sullen cloud.

May the dark shades of an eternal night Exclude the least kind of beam of dawning light; Let unborn babies, as in the womb they lie, If it be mentioned, give a groan, and die; No sounds of joy therein shall charm the ear, No sun, no moon, no twilight stars appear, But a thick veil of gloomy darkness wear.

Why did I not, when first my mother’s womb Discarded me, thence drop down into my tomb?

Then had I been at quiet, and mine eyes Had slept and seen no sorrow; there the wise And subtle counsellor, the potentate, Who for themselves built palaces of state, Lie hush’d in silence; there’s no midnight cry Caus’d by oppression and the tyranny Of wicked rulers; here the weary cease From labour, here the pris’ner sleeps in peace; The rich, the poor, the monarch and the slave Rest undisturb’d and no distinction have Within the silent chambers of the grave.

Three Divine Hymns Lord, what is man?

(Bishop William Fuller 1608-1675) Lord, what is man, lost man, that thou should’st be So mindful of him, that the Son of God Forsook his glory, his abode, To become a poor tormented man?

The deity was shrunk into a span, And that for me, O wondrous love, for me.

Reveal, ye glorious spirits, when ye knew The way the Son of God took to renew Lost man, your vacant places to supply.

Blest spirits, tell, Which did excel, Which was more prevalent, Your joy or your astonishment.

That man should be assum’d into the deity, That for a worm a God should die?

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O for a quill drawn from your wing To write the praises of eternal love; O for a voice like yours to sing That anthem here which once you sang above.

Hallelujah We sing to him (Nathaniel Ingelo 1621-1683) We sing to him, whose wisdom form’d the ear, Our songs, let him who gave us voices hear!

We joy in God, who is the spring of mirth, Who loves the harmony of heav’n and earth; Our humble sonnets shall that praise rehearse, Who is the music of the universe.

And whilst we sing we consecrate our art, And offer up with ev’ry tongue a heart.

Evening hymn (Bishop William Fuller 1608-1675) Now that the sun hath veiled his light, And bid the world goodnight, To the soft bed my body I dispose, But where shall my soul repose?

Dear God, even in thy arms.

And can there be any so sweet security?

Then to thy rest, O my soul and singing, Praise the mercy that prolongs thy days.

Hallelujah.

Seven Sonnets of Michelangelo, op 22 (Michelangelo Buonarotti 1475-1564) XVI Si come nella penna e nell’ inchiostro E l’alto e ’l basso e ’l mediocre stile, E ne’ marmmi l’imagin ricca e vile, Secondo che ‘l sa trar l’ingegno nostro; Così, signor mie car, nel petto vostro, Quante l’orgoglio è forse ogni atto umile; Ma io sol quel c’a me propio è e simile Ne traggo, come fuor nel viso mostro.

Chi semina sospir, lacrime e doglie, (L’umor dal ciel terreste, schietto e solo, A’ vari semi vario si converte), Però pianto e dolor ne miete e coglie; Chi mira alta beltà con sì gran duolo, Ne ritra’ doglie, e pene acerbe e certe.

Just as there is a high, a low, and a middle style in pen and ink, and as within the marble are images rich and poor, according as our fancy knows how to draw them forth; so within your heart, dear love, there are perhaps, as well as pride, some humble feelings; but I draw then only what is my desert and like to what I show outside on my face.

Whoever sows sighs, tears and lamentations (Heavens moisture on earth, simple and pure, adapts itself differently to different seeds) reaps and gathers grief and sadness: whoever looks on high beauty with so great a grief reaps doubtful hopes and sure and bitter pain.

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XXXI A che più debb’I omai l’intensa voglia Sfogar con pianti o con parole meste, Se di tal sorte ’l ciel, che l’alma veste, Tard’ o per tempo, alcun mai non ne spoglia?

A che ’l cor lass’ a più morir m’invoglia, S’altri pur dee morir? Dunque per queste Luci l’ore del fin fian men moleste; Ch’ogn’ altro ben val men ch’ogni mia doglia.

Però se ’l colpo, chi’io ne rub’ e’ ’nvolo, Schifar non poss’, almen, s’è estinato.

Chi entrerà ’nfra la dolcezza e ’l duolo?

Se vint’ e pres’ i’ debb’esser beato, Maraviglia non è se, nud’ e solo, Resto prigion d’un Cavalier armato.

Why must I go on venting my ardent desire in tears and melancholy words, if Heaven that dresses the soul in grief, never, soon or late, allows relief?

Why should my weary heart long for death since all must die? So to these eyes my last hours will be less painful, all my grief being greater than any joy.

If, therefore, I cannot avoid these blows, Nay, even seek them, since it is my fate, Who is the one that stands always between Joy and grief? If to be happy I must be conquered and held captive, no wonder then that I, unarmed and alone, remain the prisoner of a Cavalier-in-arms.

XXX Veggio co’ bei vostri occhi un dolce lume, Che co’ miei ciechi già veder non posso; Porto co’ vostri piedi un pondo addosso, Che de’ mie zoppi non è già costume.

Volo con le vostr’ale senza piume; Col vostr’ingegno al ciel sempre son mosso; Dal vostr’arbitrio son pallido e rosso, Freddo al sol, caldo alle più fredde brume.

Nel voler vostro è sol la voglia mia, I mie’ pensier nel vostro cor si fanno, Nel vostro fiato son le mie parole.

Come luna da sé sol par ch’io sia; Che gli occhi nostri in ciel veder non sanno Se non quell tanto che n’accende il sole.

With your lovely eyes I see a sweet light that yet with my blind ones I cannot see; with your feet I carry a weight on my back which with my lame oens I cannot; with your wings, I wingless, fly; with your spirit I move forever heavenward; at your wish I blush or turn pale, cold in the sunshine, or hot in the coldest winter.

My will is in your will alone, my thoughts are born in your heart.

My words are on your breath.

Alone, I am like the moon in the sky Which our eyes cannot see Save that part which the sun illumines

LV Tu sà ch’io so, signior mie, che tu sai Ch’i veni per goderti più da presso; E sia chi’i’ so, che tu sa’ ch’i’ son desso: A che più indugio a salutarci omai?

Se vera è la speranza che mi dai, Se vero è ’l buon desio che m’è concesso.

Rompasi il mur fra l’uno e l’altro messo; Chè doppia forza hann’ i celati guai.

S’i amo sol di te, signior mie caro, Quel che di te più ami, non ti sdegni; Che l’un dell’altro spirto s’innamora.

Quel che nel tuo bel volto bramo e ’mparo, E mal compres’ è degli umani ingegni, Chi ’l vuol veder, convien che prima mora.

Thou know’st, beloved, that I know thou know’st that I am come nearer to enjoy thee more; and thou know’st that I know thou know’st that I am still the same.

Why, then do I hesitate to greet thee?

If the hope thou gives me is true, If true the strong desire that is granted me, the wall between us crumbles, for secret griefs have double force. If I love in thee, beloved, only what thou lovest most, do not be angry; for so one spirit is enamoured of another.

That which in thy lovely face I yearn for and seek to grasp, and he that would see it, first must die.

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XXXVIII Rendete a gli occhi miei, o fonte o fiume, L’onde della non vostra e salda vena, Che più v’innalza, e cresce, e con più lena Che non è ’l vostro natural costume.

E tu, folt’ air, che ’l celeste lume Tempri a’ tristi occhi, de’ sospir miei piena, Rendigli al cor mio lasso e rasserena Tua scura faccia al mio visivo acume.

Renda la terra i passi alle mie piante, Ch’ancor l’erba germogli che gli è tota: E ’l suono Eco, già sorda a’ miei lamenti: Gli sguardi agli occhi mie, tue luci sante, Ch’io possa altra bellezza un’altra volta Amar, po’che di me non ti contenti.

Give back to my eyes, you fountains and rivers, the waves of those strong currents that are not yours which make you swell and grow with greater power than is your natural way. And thou, heavy air that dims the heavenly light to my sad eyes so full of my sighs art thou, give them back to my weary heart and lighten thy dark face to my eye’s keen sight.

Earth, give me back my footsteps that the grass may sprout again where it was trod; and Echo, yet deaf to my laments, give back thy sound; and you blest pupils give back to my eyes their glances; that I another time may love another beauty,

XXXII S’un casto amor, s’una pieta superna, S’una fortuna infra dua amanti equale, S’un’aspra sorte all’un dell’altro cale, S’un spirto, s’un voler duo cor governa; S’un’anima in duo corpi è fatta eterna, Ambo levando al cielo e con pari ale; S’amor d’un colpo e d’un dorato strale Le viscier di duo petti arda e discerna; S’amar l’un l’altro, e nessun se medesimo, D’un gusto e d’un diletto, a tal mercede, C’a un fin voglia l’uno e l’altro porre; Se mille e mille non sarien centesmo A tal nodo d’amore, a tanta fede; E sol l’isdegno il può rompere e sciorre?

If love be chaste, if pity heavenly, if fortune equal between two lovers; if a bitter fate is shared by both, and if one spirit, one will rules two hearts; if in two bodies one soul is made eternal, raising both to heaven on the same wings; if at one stroke and with a gilded arrow love burns and pierces two hearts to the core; if in loving one another, forgetting one’s self, with one pleasure and one delight there is such reward that both wills strive for the same end; if thousands and thousands do not make one hundredth part to such a bond of love, to such constancy, can, then, mere anger break and dissolve it?

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XXIV Spirto ben nato, in cui si specchia e vede Nelle tuo belle membra oneste e care Quante natura e ’l ciel tra no’ pùo fare, Quand’ a null’altra suo bell’opra cede; Spirto leggiadro, in cui si spera e crede Dentro, come di fuor nel viso appare, Amor, pieta, mercè, cose sì rare, Che mà furn’in beltà con tanta fede; L’amour mi prende, e la beltà mi lega; La pieta, la mercè con dolci sguardi Ferma speranz’al cor par che ne doni.

Qual uso o qual governo al mondo niega, Qual crudeltà per tempo, o qual più tardi, C’a sì bel viso morte non perdoni?

Noble soul, in whose chaste and dear limbs are reflected all that nature and heaven can achieve with us, the paragon of their works: graceful soul, within whom one hopes and believes Love, Pity and Mercy are dwelling, as they appear in your face; things so rare and never found in beauty so truly; Love takes me captive, and Beauty binds me; Pity and Mercy with sweet glances fill my heart with a strong hope.

What law or earthly government, what cruelty now or to come, could forbid Death to spared such a lovely face?

Um Mitternacht (Johann Wolfgang von Goethe 1749-1832)

At midnight

Um Mitternacht ging ich, nicht eben gerne, Klein kleiner knabe, jenen Kirchhof hin An Vaters Haus, des Pfarrers; Stern am Sterne, Sie leuchteten doch alle gar zu schön; Um Mitternacht.

At midnight, as a very little boy, I would walk, Far from willingly, past that churchyard To father’s vicarage; star on star How beautifully they all shone; At midnight.

Wenn ich dann ferner in des Lebens Weite Zur Liebsten musste, weil sie zog, Gestirn und Nordschein über mir im Streite, Ich gehend, kommend Seligkeiten sog; Um Mitternacht.

When further on in life I had to go To my beloved, had to because she drew me on, Stars and northern lights above would be at war, I breathed in bliss, both going and returning; At midnight.

Bis dann zuletzt des vollen Mondes Helle So klar und deutlich mir ins Finstre drang, Auch der Gedanke, willig, sinnig, schnelle Sich ums Vergangne wie ums Künftige schlang; Um Mitternacht.

Until at last the full moon’s radiance Pierced my darkness so clearly and brightly, That even thought, willingly, meaningfully, swiftly Embraced the past and the future; At midnight.

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Franz Schubert: Five Goethe Lieder (Johann Wolfgang von Goethe 1749-1832) Ganymed

Ganymede

Wie im Morgenglanze Du rings mich anglühst, Frühling, Geliebter!

Mit tausendfacher Liebeswonne Sich an mein Herze drängt Deiner ewigen Wärme Heilig Gefühl, Unendliche Schöne!

How in the morning radiance You glow at me from all sides, Spring, beloved!

With thousandfold delights of love, The holy sense Of your eternal worth Presses against my heart, Beauty without end!

Daß ich dich fassen möcht’ In diesen Arm!

To clasp you In these arms!

Ach an deinem Busen Lieg’ ich und schmachte, Und deine Blumen, dein Gras Drängen sich an mein Herz.

Du kühlst den brennenden Durst meines Busens, Lieblicher Morgenwind!

Ruft drein die Nachtigall Liebend nach mir aus dem Nebeltal.

Ah, on your breast, I lie and languish, And your flowers, your grass Press against my heart.

You cool the burning Thirst of my breast, Sweet morning breeze!

The nightingale calls out to me Longingly from the misty valley.

Ich komm’, ich komme!

Ach wohin, wohin?

I come, I come!

Where? Ah, where?

Hinauf strebt’s, hinauf!

Es schweben die Wolken Abwärts, die Wolken Neigen sich der sehnenden Liebe, Mir! Mir! In eurem Schoße Aufwärts!

Umfangend umfangen!

Aufwärts an deinen Busen, Alliebender Vater!

Upwards! Upwards I’m driven.

The clouds float Down, the clouds Bow to yearning love.

To me! To me!

Enveloped by you Aloft!

Embraced and embracing!

Upwards to your bosom, All-loving Father!

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Schäfers Klagelied

Shepherd’s lament

Da droben auf jenem Berge Da steh’ ich tausendmal, An meinem Stabe hingebogen Und schaue hinab in das Tal.

On that mountain over there I’ve stood a thousand times, Leaning on my shepherd’s staff Gazing into the valley below.

Dann folg’ich der weidenden Herde, Mein Hündchen bewahret mir sie.

Ich bin herunter gekommen Und weiß doch selber nicht wie.

I follow then the grazing flock My sheepdog guards for me, I’ve come down to the valley And do not myself know how.

Da stehet von schönen Blumen Die ganze Wiese so voll.

Ich breche sie, ohne zu wissen, Wem ich sie geben soll.

The whole meadow is blooming, Thronged with beautiful flowers.

I pick them without knowing Who to give them to.

Und Regen, Sturm und Gewitter Verpaß’ ich unter dem Baum.

Die Türe dort bleibet verschlossen; Doch alles ist leider ein Traum.

In rain and storm and tempest I shelter beneath the tree.

The door over there stays locked; And all, alas, is a dream.

Es stehet ein Regenbogen Wohl über jenem Haus!

Sie aber ist fortgezogen, Gar weit in das Land hinaus.

A rainbow arches Over that house!

But she has gone away, Away to distant parts.

Hinaus in das Land und weiter, Vielleicht gar über die See. Vorüber, ihr Schafe, nur vorüber!

Dem Schäfer ist gar so weh.

To distant parts and further, Perhaps even over the sea.

Move on, O sheep, move on!

Your shepherd feels so sad.

Wandrers Nachtlied II

Wanderer’s nightsong II

Der du von dem Himmel bist, Alles Leid und Schmerzen stillst, Den, der doppelt elend ist, Doppelt mit Entzückung füllst, Ach! ich bin des Treibens müde!

Was soll all der Schmerz und Lust?

Süßer Friede!

Komm, ach komm in meine Brust!

You who come from heaven, Soothing all pain and sorrow, Filling the doubly wretched Doubly with delight, Ah! I am weary of this strife!

What use is all this joy and pain?

Sweet peace!

Come, ah come into my breast!

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Der Musensohn Roaming through fields and woods, Whistling out my song, Is how I go from place to place!

And the whole world keeps time And moves in rhythm with me.

Durch Feld und Wald zu schweifen, Mein Liedchen wegzupfeifen So gehts von Ort zu Ort! Und nach dem Takte reget, Und nach dem Maß beweget Sich alles an mir fort.

I can scarcely wait for them, The first flower in the garden, The first blossom on the tree.

My songs greet them, And when winter returns, I still sing of my dream.

Ich kann sie kaum erwarten Die erste Blum’ im Garten, Die erste Blüt’ am Baum.

Sie grüßen meine Lieder, Und kommt der Winter wieder, Sing’ ich noch jenen Traum.

I sing it far and wide, Throughout the icy realm, Then winter blossoms in beauty!

This blossoming also passes And new joys are discovered On the fertile hills.

Ich sing’ ihn in der Weite, Auf Eises Läng’ und Breite, Da blüht der Winter schön!

Auch diese Blüte schwindet Und neue Freude findet Sich auf bebauten Höhn.

For as soon as I see Young folk by the lime tree, I rouse them in a trice.

The bumpkin puffs his chest out, The prim girl pirouettes In time to my melody.

Denn wie ich bei der Linde Das junge Völkchen finde, Sogleich erreg’ ich sie.

Der stumpfe Bursche bläht sich, Das steife Mädchen dreht sich Nach meiner Melodie.

You lend my feet wings And drive over hill and dale Your favourite far from home.

Dear, gracious Muses, When shall I at last find rest In my beloved’s embrace?

Ihr gebt den Sohlen Flügel Und treibt, durch Tal und Hügel, Den Liebling weit von Haus.

Ihr lieben holden Musen, Wann ruh’ ich ihr am Busen Auch endlich wieder aus?

Translations by Richard Stokes from The Book of Lieder (Faber, 2005) with thanks to George Bird, co-author of The FischerDieskau Book of Lieder.

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Benjamin Britten: The Holy Sonnets of John Donne.

IV Oh my blacke Soule! now thou art summoned By sicknesse, deaths herald, and champion; Thou art like a pilgrim, which abroad hath done Treason, and durst not turne to whence hee is fled, Or like a thiefe, which till deaths doome1 be read, Wisheth himselfe delivered from prison; But damn’d and hal’d to execution,2 Wisheth that still he might be imprisoned.

Yet grace, if thou repent, thou canst not lacke; But who shall give thee that grace to beginne?

Oh make thy selfe with holy mourning blacke, And red with blushing, as thou art with sinne; Or wash thee in Christs blood, which hath this might That being red, it dyes red soules to white.

XIV Batter my heart, three person’d God1; for, you As yet but knocke, breathe, shine, and seeke to mend; That I may rise, and stand, o’erthrow mee,and bend Your force, to breake, blowe, burn and make me new.

I, like an usurpt towne2, to’another due, Labour to’admit you, but Oh, to no end, Reason your viceroy in mee, mee should defend3, But is captiv’d, and proves weake or untrue.

Yet dearely I love you, and would be loved faine4, But am betroth’d unto your enemie: Divorce mee, untie, or breake that knot againe, Take mee to you, imprison mee, for I Except you enthrall5 mee, never shall be free, Nor ever chast, except you ravish mee.

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1

Death sentence

2 But

condemned and dragged to

execution [5 syllables]

1

The Trinity: Father, Son and Holy Spirit

2A

metaphor that suggests the fortress

of the heart, possessed by Satan, which God must open with a battering-ram 3 Reason

should defend me against

Satan who has usurped my heart 4

long to be loved

5

enslave

III O might those sighes and teares returne againe Into my breast and eyes, which I have spent, That I might in this holy discontent Mourne with some fruit, as I have mourn’d in vaine; In mine Idolatry what showres of raine Mine eyes did waste? what griefs my heart did rent?

That sufferance1 was my sinne; now I repent; ’Cause I did suffer I must suffer paine.

Th’hydroptique2 drunkard, and night-scouting3 thiefe, The itchy Lecher, and selfe tickling proud Have the remembrance of past joyes, for reliefe Of comming ills. To [poore] me is allow’d No ease; for, long, yet vehement griefe hath beene Th’effect and cause, the punishment and sinne.

XIX Oh, to vex me, contraryes meet in one: Inconstancy unnaturally hath begott A constant habit; that when I would not I change in vowes, and in devotione.1 As humorous2 is my contritione1 As my prophane Love, and as soone forgott: As ridlingly distemper’d,3 cold and hott, As praying, as mute; as infinite, as none.

I durst not view heaven yesterday; and to day In prayers, and flattering speaches I court God: To morrow I quake with true feare of his rod.

So my devout fitts come and go away Like a fantastique Ague4: save that here Those are my best dayes, when I shake with feare.

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1

suffering and tolerance of ‘idolatry’.

2

insatiably thirsty

3

prowling at night

1

Pronounce as four syllables

2

changeable

3

inexplicably disordered

4

fever accompanied by sporadic shaking

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XIII What if this present were the worlds last night?

Marke in my heart, O Soule, where thou dost dwell, The picture of Christ crucified1, and tell Whether that countenance can thee affright, Teares in his eyes quench the amazing2 light, Blood fills his frownes, which from his pierc’d head fell.

And can that tongue adjudge thee unto hell, Which pray’d forgiveness for his foes fierce spight?

No, no; but as in my idolatrie I said to all my profane mistresses, Beauty, of pitty, foulnesse onely is A signe of rigour: so I say to thee3, To wicked spirits are horrid shapes assign’d, This beauteous forme assures a pitious minde.

XVII Since she whom I lov’d1 hath payd her last debt To Nature, and to hers, and my good is dead, And her Soule early into heaven ravished, Wholly on heavenly things my mind is sett.

Here the admyring her my mind did whett To seeke thee God; so streames do shew their head2; But although I have found thee, and thou my thirst hast fed, A holy thirsty dropsy3 melts mee yett.

But why should I begg more Love, when as thou Dost wooe my soule for hers; offring all thine: And dost not only feare least I allow My Love to Saints and Angels things divine, But in thy tender jealousy4 dost doubt Least the World, Fleshe, yea Devill putt thee out.

VII At the round earths imagin’d corners, blow Your trumpetts, Angells, and arise, arise From death, you numberlesse infinities Of soules, and to your scattred bodies goe, All whom the flood did, and fire shall o’erthrow, All whom warre, dearth, age, agues, tyrannies, Despaire, law, chance, hath slaine, and you whose eyes, Shall behold God, and never tast deaths woe.

But let them sleepe, Lord, and mee mourne a space, For, if above all these, my sinnes abound, ’Tis late to aske abundance of thy grace, When wee are there; here on this lowly ground, PAGE 16

1

crucifix

2

overwhelm

3

to his soul

1

Donne’s wife, Ann, died on 15 August 1617, aged 33

2

source

3

unquenchable thirst

4

zealing, terrifying

Teach mee how to repent; for that’s as good As if thou hadst seal’d my pardon, with thy blood.

I Thou hast made me, And shall thy worke decay?

Repaire me now, for now mine end doth haste, I runne to death, and death meets me as fast, And all my pleasures are like yesterday; I dare not move my dimme eyes any way, Despaire behind, and death before doth cast Such terrour, and my feeble flesh doth waste By sinne in it, which t’wards hell doth weigh1; Onely thou art above, and when towards thee By thy leave I can looke, I rise againe; But our old subtle foe2 so tempteth me, That not one houre my selfe I can sustaine; Thy Grace may wing me to prevent his art, And thou like Adamant3 draw mine iron heart.

X Death1 be not proud, though some have called thee Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not soe, For, those, whom thou think’st, thou dost overhrow, Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill mee.

From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee, Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow, And soonest our best men with thee doe goe, Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.

Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men, And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell, And poppie, or charmes, can make us sleepe as well, And better than thy stroake; why swell’st thou then?

One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally, And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

1

carry

2

Satan

3

a magnet

1

Donne’s own attitude to death is clearly documented. He wrote a treatise on suicide called Biathanatos, in which he claimed that Jesus committed suicide.

As for his own feelings, he wrote to a friend: ‘I would not that death should take me asleep. I would not have him merely seize me, and only declare me to be dead, but win me, and overcome me.’

As death approached, Donne got dressed in his shroud to have his portrait taken. Izaak Walton, his first biographer, describes his last moments: ‘[...] he was so happy to have nothing to do but die [...]

As [...] his last breath departed from him, he closed his own eyes, and then disposed his hands and body into such a posture, as required not the least alteration by those that came to shroud him.

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Biographies James Gilchrist James Gilchrist began his working life as a doctor, turning to a full-time career in music in 1996.

Recent highlights include St Matthew Passion (Rotterdam Philharmonic), and Die Jahreszeiten (Royal Flemish Phil), Britten Les Illuminations at Aldeburgh festival, La Finta Giardiniera (AAM), and Britten Serenade for Tenor, Horn and Strings (Amsterdam Sinfonietta), Messiah with the National Symphony Orchestra, Washington, Mozart’s Requiem in Moscow and St Petersburg, a tour of Handel’s Theodora with Concert Spirituel, Jeptha at the Buxton Festival, Haydn’s Creation in Salzburg and a European tour of Beethoven’s Missa Solemnis with the Monteverdi Choir and Orchestra.

James’ operatic roles include Quint in Britten’s Turn of the Screw, Ferrando in Cosi Fan Tutte, Vaughan Williams’ Sir John in Love (Barbican/Radio 3), and Purcell’s King Arthur for Mark Morris at English National Opera.

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A prolific recitalist, James enjoys successful relationships with accompanists Anna Tilbrook, Julius Drake and the harpist Alison Nicholls. His many critically acclaimed recordings include Die Schöne Mullerin, Schwanengesang and Winterreise for Orchid, On Wenlock Edge for Linn, Intimations of Immortality for Naxos, title role Albert Herring and Vaughan William’s A Poisoned Kiss for Chandos, Leighton Earth, Sweet Earth and Britten’s Winter Words (Linn).

This season, James’ engagements include Messiah with the Handel & Haydn Society in Boston, with the Sixteen and with the Icelandic Symphony Orchestra; he will will sing Madwoman Curlew River, Nebuchadnezzar The Burning Fiery Furnace and Tempter/Abbot The Prodigal Son in Britten’s Church Parables, with performances in St Petersburg, Tokyo, London and at the Aldeburgh Festival.

James Gilchrist appears by arrangement with Hazard Chase Ltd

Julius Drake The pianist Julius Drake lives in London and specialises in the field of chamber music, working with many of the world’s leading artists, both in recital and on disc. He appears at all the major music centres: recent seasons concerts have taken him to the Aldeburgh, Edinburgh, Munich, Schubertiade, and Salzburg Music Festivals; to Carnegie Hall and Lincoln Centre, New York; Concertgebouw, Amsterdam and Philarmonie, Cologne; Châtelet and Musée de Louvre, Paris; La Scala, Milan and Liceu, Barcelona; Musikverein and Konzerthaus, Vienna; and Wigmore Hall and BBC Proms, London.

Julius Drake’s many recordings include several recitals for the ‘Wigmore Live’ label, with Lorraine Hunt Liebersen, Gerald Finley, Christopher Maltman and Joyce Didonato as well as award winning recordings with Ian Bostridge for EMI, Christianne Stotijn for Onyx and a widely acclaimed series with Gerald Finley for Hyperion, for which the Barber Songs, Schumann Heine Lieder and Britten Songs and

Proverbs have won the 2007, 2009 and 2011 Gramophone Awards. Julius Drake is now embarked on a major project for Hyperion, to record the complete songs of Franz Liszt.

Julius Drake is invited regularly to give master classes internationally and he is appointed Professor at Graz University for Music and the Performing Arts, in Austria.

Recent and coming highlights in his schedule include recitals in Madrid, Brussels and New York with Gerald Finley; in Moscow, Oslo and at the Schwetzingen Festival with Dorothea Röschmann; at La Fenice Venice, La Scala Milan and the Schubertiade Festival with Ian Bostridge; instrumental chamber music at the festivals of Delft, West Cork and Oxford; new recordings of Liszt with Angelika Kirchschlager, Shostakovitch with Christianne Stotijn and Schumann with Gerald Finley; performances of Janacek’s Zápisník zmizelého (The Diary of One Who Disappeared) in London, Stuttgart and Vienna with Christianne Stotijn and Mark Padmore; and to mark 30 years performing at his beloved Wigmore Hall, a major series entitled Julius Drake: Perspectives.

The Steinway concert piano chosen and hired by The Temple Music Foundation for this performance is supplied and maintained by Steinway & Sons, London

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Temple Music Foundation

Subscription Circles

Ticket sales alone cannot cover our costs and we rely on the support of generous individuals to enable us to secure exceptional artists and keep tickets affordable. Please consider supporting us.

Chairman’s Circle (CC) o £1,001 per annum (£84 per month) - may be made through the Gift Aid Scheme As a member of the Chairman’s Circle you will have first priority booking, reserved seats for all the events throughout the season and the opportunity to informally meet the artists after the Temple song recitals. You will also be invited to join the Chairman for a private dinner following one of the concerts.

Silver Circle (SC) o £500 per annum (£42 per month) – may be made through the Gift Aid Scheme As a member of the Silver Circle you will have second priority booking, reserved seats for all the events throughout the season and the opportunity to informally meet the artists after the Temple song recitals.

Young Circle (YC) o £25 per annum Best available seat for any concert for £5

Subscription C PAGE 20

Temple Music Subscription Circles

2013 Temple Song

Members

Underwriters

Chairman’s Circle Sir Richard Aikens Katie Bradford Simon and Luci Eyers David Goldberg QC Golden Bottle Trust Bruce A Harris Michel Kallipetis Toby Landau QC Lord Lloyd of Berwick Duncan Matthews QC Cathryn McGahy Gary Morris Lionel Persey QC Nigel Pleming QC Laurence Rabinowitz QC Stephen Rubin QC Sir Konrad Schiemann Rex Tedd QC Daniel Toledano QC Robert Venables QC Young Circle Max Kaufmann Angel Lee Jo Martin Drew Steanson

Circles

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We are most grateful to further donors who wish to remain anonymous

Upcoming Events 11 APRIL

Véronique Gens 23 APRIL

William Walton ‘Henry V’ A Musical Passage SOLD OUT

26 JUNE

Holst Singers 9 JULY

The Choirmen of Temple Church

Tickets available from the website www.templemusic.org or by calling Alex on 020 7427 5641

PAGE 23

2013 Temple Music Staff Carol Butler Budget and Events Manager Rachel Pearson Development Consultant Alex Madgwick Events and Marketing Assistant DesignRaphael Ltd Design Romax Print Temple Music Foundation 2 King’s Bench Walk The Temple London EC4Y 7BB www.templemusic.org tmf@templechurch.com 020 7427 5641 The Temple Music Foundation is a registered charity, no. 1095141

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