Thomas Campion, I care not for these ladies
Vincent d’Indy, Madrigal
Girolamo Frescobaldi, Se l’aura spira
Traditional English, The Lark in the morning Robert Johnson, Have you seen the bright lily grow?
George Frideric Händel, ‘Waft her angels through the skies’ from Jeptha
John Dowland, Can she excuse my wrongs?
Trad. Irish, Siúil a Rún
Barbara Strozzi, Che si puó fare?
Joaquín Rodrigo, Adela
Robert Schumann, ‘Wenn ich in deine Augen seh’ from Dichterliebe
Thomas Campion, Never weather-beaten sail
Gottfried Heinrich Stölzel arr. Anna Magdalena Bach, ‘Bist du bei Mir’ from Diomedes
Colin Hay, I just don’t think I’ll ever get over you
The Beatles, Blackbird
John Dowland, Say, Love, if ever thou didst find
Fleetwood Mac, Songbird
Programme Notes, Hugh Cutting
This programme takes the golden age of lutesong as its basis with works of Dowland, Johnson, Campion, and Strozzi. The affects of these masterpieces are then mirrored, answered or developed in later song repertoire. It’s a celebration of the ways that songwriters have coloured and re-coloured our experience of love. The narrative through this concert is, more or less, that of a romantic relationship. We start at infatuation and move through idolisation, conflict, break-up, recovery, and eventually that move to a new love.
We start with Campion’s I care not for these ladies, in which the speaker mocks the courtship demands of upper class ladies, instead showing his infatuation for Amaryllis; he claims her down-to-earth beauty is much more appealing than any number of high-born ladies. Vincent d’Indy’s Madrigal leans into this idolisation of a lover, calling to mind the perfection we see in new partners; the sexual undertones of the third verse especially call to mind those early stages of dating, and the deification of the loved person - “who ever had a more beautiful face...than my girl with the sweet eyes”. And in Frescobaldi’s Se l’aura spira, those heady days of young love are celebrated in nature itself; the roses have ‘laughing faces’ and the birds ‘unfold their sweet verses’ at the prospect of new lovers and budding relationships - there’s no sense of love’s pain...just yet...
Robert Johnson’s Have you seen but the bright lily grow? is perhaps the most ardent song of
appreciation in this programme; the speaker unravels an Arcadian image of their love, likening the sweetness and softness of the beloved one to the absolute perfection in nature (‘the wool of beaver...the white lily...the fall of the snow before the earth hath smutched it’). There’s an intimate knowledge to this song; they’re together, and they’re comfortable and content in this honeymoon period. John Dowland’s Can she excuse my wrongs? here represents the first moments of friction; the speaker is frustrated that things are not as rosy as they had initially thought. The honeymoon is over, and these two individuals are suddenly feeling as if their expectations of love are not being satisfied by the other person.The song asks the question of whether this can be solved, or whether it will ‘be thus fruitless ever?’
Siúil a Rún is similarly open-ended; the speaker is lamenting the fact that their love has had to leave for war, admitting that ‘if he ever comes back is but a chance...’ Despite the chorus’ refrain in Gaelic of ‘Go, go my love’, we’re left with the uncertainty of what will happen to this bond which seems, gradually, to be cracking... Heartbreak descends; Barbara Strozzi’s masterful Che si puó fare? goes round and round, asking the same question of ‘what can I do?’ The speaker is so stuck in terms of their grief, totally isolated by stars that ‘are raining disasters’ on them, indifferent to their suffering. There is no resolution, shown by the 4 note bass line which never changes or develops under the wailing, lost melismas in the voice.
Adela by Joaquín Rodrigo has a level of distance applied to the pain as the speaker is telling the story not of themself, but of a girl named Adela who ultimately dies of love sickness, driven to the edge by the fact of Juan’s relationship with her friend, Dolores. Wenn ich in deine Augen seh is the fourth song from Schumann’s Dichterliebe; initially, the text seems more hopeful - “When I look in your eyes, All my pain and sorrow vanish; But when I kiss your lips, Then I am wholly healed”. But, in true style of the poet, Heinrich Heine, the closing line when the speaker says they will ‘weep bitter tears’ shows the inherent danger of daring to love someone; we always run the risk of entering into something that eventually will cause us pain.
But hope is never far off; Campion’s Never Weather-Beaten Sail is a sailor’s plea for safe passage to shore through God’s grace. It’s that a prayer for inner sanctuary, and in the context of a lost love, we’re seeing this as the beginning of a healing process. Bist du bei Mir, which was written not by JS Bach (who it was attributed to for many years) but by Gottfried Heinrich Stölzel, is a more insistent prayer, this time for peace in death. Both songs ask for strength in times of distress, as we begin to gather ourselves to once again trust in love.
Colin Hay’s I just don’t think I’ll ever get over you brings us back to reality, and the
fact of the matter: while we can heal the heart, there are parts of us that are forever linked to those we have loved and lost. The song isn’t lamenting this, but stating it, reminding us to be grateful for those with whom we’ve shared our lives. ‘I still find pieces of your presence here, even after all these years.’
Blackbird is about burgeoning hope; it learns to fly, to be free, to see, and won’t be dragged down in despair. Even in the night, the blackbird sees the light of change, and as a symbol it’s often associated with wisdom. The Beatles wrote this song as a metaphor for the black civil rights struggle, but the early-morning song of the bird is also a metaphor for spiritual awakening. Through matters of the heart, we gain more and more awareness, hopefully revealing to us more of the true nature(s) of love.
Dowland’s Say, Love, if ever Thou didst find represents a return to that old flamboyance we started with; the speaker, once again, has fallen for someone who they see as the ‘only queen of love and beauty’, claiming there is only one woman ‘with a constant mind’. That old adoration and idolisation is back, despite the journey we’ve been through! We can’t help but throw ourselves back into love’s beckoning call...maybe there’s something noble in that.
We close with Fleetwood Mac’s Songbird; I love this calmer proclamation of love: ‘to you, I’ll give the world...I’ll never be cold; and I wish you all the love in the world, but most of all, I wish it from myself’. The repeated ‘...and I love you, I love you, I love you, like never before’ isn’t holding either person to any promise, nor is it saying necessarily that it will end happily ever after; it’s simply stating that, whatever happens, they are loved. This gentle vulnerability feels like growth - maybe it’s the way we should offer ourselves in love, and in doing so enjoy every aspect of it, painful and blissful.