Roads to Solace
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Support London Song Festival Friday 27th November, 7pm ROADS TO SOLACE More than Daffodils! A celebration to mark William Wordsworth’s 250th anniversary, exploring his search for solace in the landscapes of his beloved Lake District, with readings from the journals and letters of Dorothy Wordsworth. Aoife Miskelly – soprano Catherine Hopper – soprano Nigel Foster – piano Clarinet - TBC Sarah Berger – speaker Programme devised by Nigel Foster PART 1 Song 1 – Dominick Argento (1927-2019) and William Wordsworth – Prologue: Shadow and Substance from To be Sung upon the Water As one who hangs down bending from the side Of a slow moving boat, upon the breast Of a still water, solacing himself With such discov’ries as his eye can make Beneath him in the bottom of the deep, Sees many beauteous sights, weeds, fishes, flowers, Grots, pebbles, roots of trees and fancies more, Yet often is perplexed and cannot part The shadow from the substance, rocks and sky, Mountains and clouds, reflected in the depth Of the clear flood, from things which there abide In their true dwelling; now is crossed by gleam Of his own image, by a sunbeam now, And wav’ring motions sent he knows not whence, Impediments that make his task more sweet; Such pleasant office have I long pursued Incumbent o’er the surface of past time. Support London Song Festival Song 2 – Ronald Corp (b. 1951) and William Wordsworth (1770-1850) – Dust as we are Dust as we are, the immortal spirit grows like harmony in music. There is a dark Inscrutable workmanship that reconciles Discordant elements, makes them cling together In one society. How strange that all the terrors, pains, and early miseries, Regrets, vexations, lassitudes interfused Within my mind, should e’er have borne a part, And that a needful part, in making up the calm existence that is mine when I Am worthy of myself? Praise to the end! Thanks to the means which Nature deigned to employ. Song 3 – John Woolrich (b. 1954) and Thomas de Quincey (1785-1859) – I will walk abroad from Here is my Country I will walk abroad, Old griefs shall be forgotten today, for the air is cool and still and the hills are high and stretch away to heaven and the churchyard is verdant as the forest lawns and the forest lawns are as quiet as the churchyard and with the dew I can wash the fever from my forehead and then I shall be unhappy no longer Song 4 – Michael Short (b. 1937) and William Wordsworth – November 1, 1815 from Of Time and Season How clear, how keen, how marvellously bright The effluence from yon mountain’s distant head, Which, strewn with snow as smooth as heav’n can shed, Shines likes another sun, on mortal sight Uprisen, as if to check approaching night, And all her twinkling stars, who now would tread If so he might, yon mountain’s glittering head, Support London Song Festival Terrestrial, but a surface, by the flight Of sad mortality’s earth-sullying wing, Unswept, unstain’ed? Nor shall the aerial powers Dissolve that beauty, destined to endure, White, radiant, spotless. Exquisitely pure, Through all vicissitudes, till genial spring Has fill’d the laughing vales with welcome flowers. Song 5 – Louise Héritte-Viardot (1841-1918) and William Wordsworth – To Daffodils I wandered lonely as a cloud That floats on high on vales and hills. When all at once I saw a crowd, A host of golden daffodils. Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine And twinkle on the milky way, They stretched in never ending line Along the margin of a bay. Ten thousand saw I at a glance Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. And oft when on my couch I lie In vacant or in pensive mood, They flash upon that inward eye Which is the bliss of solitude. And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils. Song 6 – Dominick Argento and William Wordsworth – The Lake at Evening from To be Sung upon the Water Clouds, lingering yet, extend in solid bars Through the grey west; and lo! These waters, steeled By breezeless air to smoothest polish, yield A vivid repetition of the stars; Jove, Venus, and the ruddy crest of Mars Amid his fellows beauteously revealed At happy distance from earth’s groaning field, Where ruthless mortals wage incessant wars. Support London Song Festival Is it a mirror? Or the nether Sphere Opening to view the abyss in which she feeds Her own calm fires? But listen! A voice is near; Great Pan himself low-whispering through the reeds, ‘Be thankful thou; for, if unholy deeds Ravage the world, tranquillity is here!’ Song 7 – Muriel Herbert (1897-1984) and Robert Southey (1774-1843) – How Beautiful is the Night How beautiful is night! A dewy freshness fills the silent air; No mist obscures, nor cloud, nor speck, nor stain, Breaks the serene of Heaven; In full-orb’d glory yonder moon divine Rolls through the dark blue depths. Beneath her steady ray The desert circle spreads, Like the round ocean, girdled with the sky. How beautiful is night! Song 8 - Dominick Argento and William Wordsworth – The lake at Night from To be Sung upon the Water Sweet are the sounds that mingle from afar, Heard by calm lakes, as peeps the folding star, Where the duck dabbles ‘mid the rustling sedge, And feeding pike starts from the water’s edge, Or the swan stirs the reeds, his neck and bill Wetting that drip upon the water still; And now, on ev’ry side, the surface breaks Into blue spots, and slowly lengthening streaks; here, plots of sparkling water tremble bright With thousand thousand twinkling points of light; And now the whole wide lake in deep repose Is hushed, and like a burnished mirror glows. Support London Song Festival Song 9 – Michael Short and William Wordsworth – September 1815 from Of Time and Season While not a leaf seems faded while the fields, With ripening harvests prodigally fair, In brightest sunshine bask, this nipping air Sent from some distant clime where Winter wields his icy scimitar, a foretaste yields Of bitter change and bids the flowers beware; And whispers to the silent birds, “Prepare against the threatening foe your trustiest shields.” For me, who, under kindlier laws, Belong to Nature’s tuneful quire, This rustling dry, Through the green leaves and yon crystalline sky, Announce a season potent to renew, ‘Mid frost and snow th’instinctive joys of song And nobler cares than listless summer knew. Song 10 – Christopher Brown (b. 1943) and William Wordsworth - And in the Frosty Season from Wordsworth Songs And in the frosty season, when the sun Was set, and visible for many a mile The cottage windows blazed through twilight gloom, I heeded not their summons; happy time It was indeed for all of us – for me It was a time of rapture! Clear and loud The village clock tolled six I wheeled about, Proud and exulting like an untired horse That cares not for his home. All shod with steel, We hissed along the polished ice in games Confederate, imitative of the chase And woodland pleasures – the resounding horn, The pack loud chiming, and the hunted hare. So through the darkness and the cold we flew, And not a voice was idle; with the din Smitten, the precipices rang aloud; The leafless trees and every icy crag Tinkled like iron while far distant hills Into the tumult sent an alien sound Of melancholy not unnoticed, while the stars Eastward were sparkling clear, and in the west The orange sky of evening died away. Support London Song Festival Song 11 - Dominick Argento and William Wordsworth – Music on the Water from To be Sung upon the Water Lutes and voices down th’enchanted woods Steal, and compose the oar-forgotten floods, While Evening’s solemn bird melodious weeps, Heard, by star-spotted bays, beneath the steeps; Slow glides the sail along th’illumined shore, And steals into the shade the lazy oar. Soft bosoms breathe around contagious sighs, And amorous music on the water dies. PART 2 Song 12 – Roxanna Panufnik (b. 1968) and William Wordsworth – That Mighty Heart Earth has not anything to show more fair; Dull would he be of soul who could pass by A sight so touching in its majesty; This city now doth, like a garment, wear The beauty of the morning; silent, bare, Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie Open unto the fields, and to the sky; All bright the glittering in the smokeless air. Never did sun more beautifully steep In his first splendour, valley, rock or hill; Ne’er saw I, never felt, so calm, so deep! The river glideth at his own sweet will; Dear God! The very houses seem asleep; And all that mighty heart is lying still! Song 13 – William Walton (1902-1983) and William Wordsworth – Glide Gently from A Song for the Lord Mayor’s Table Glide gently, thus for ever glide, O Thames! That other bards may see As lovely visions by thy side As now, fair river, come to me. O glide, fair stream, for ever so, Thy quiet soul on all bestowing, Support London Song Festival Till all our minds for ever flow As thy deep waters now are flowing. Song 14 - Christopher Brown and William Wordsworth – Oh there is blessing in the gentle breeze from Wordsworth Songs Oh there is blessing in this gentle breeze, A visitant that while it fans my cheek Doth seem half conscious of the joy it brings From the green fields, and from yon azure sky.