THE SOLDIER FROM SEVERN TO SOMME o When I Was One and Twenty, No. 2 from A Shropshire Lad George Butterworth [1.23] p The Lads in Their Hundreds, No. 5 from A Shropshire Lad George Butterworth [2.28] Home a Is My Team Ploughing?, No. 6 from A Shropshire Lad George Butterworth [3.43] 1 Loveliest of Trees, No. 1 from A Shropshire Lad George Butterworth [2.35] s Lune d’Avril, No.7 from La Courte Paille, FP. 178 Francis Pouelnc [2.30] 2 Black Stitchel Ivor Gurney [2.19] Encore 3 On the Idle Hill of Summer, No. 6 from A Shropshire Lad, IAS 20 Arthur Somervell [2.28] d In Boyhood, No. 2 from We’ll To The Woods No More John Ireland [2.16] 4 Look Not Into My Eyes, No. 3 from A Shropshire Lad George Butterworth [2.06] 5 Wo die Schoenen Trompeten Blasen, from Des Knaben Wunderhorn Gustav Mahler [6.42] Total timings: [73.54]
Journey 6 Les Berceaux, Op. 32 No. 1 Gabriel Fauré [2.24] CHRISTOPHER MALTMAN Baritone JOSEPH MIDDLETON PIANO 7 He is There!, No. 2 from Three Songs of War Charles Ives [3.46] 8 White in the Moon, No. 7 from A Shropshire Lad, IAS 20 Arthur Somervell [2.56] www.signumrecords.com 9 Severn Meadows Ivor Gurney [1.59] 0 , from Des Knaben Wunderhorn Gustav Mahler [7.06] Revelge INTRODUCTION at all, suggested a group of songs by Ivor Gurney including three settings of Gurney’s own poetry Battle The programme recorded here had its birth in written while a soldier in World War I, and also q The Field-Marshall, No. 4 from Songs and Dances of Death Modest Mussorgsky [5.35] my student days at the Royal Academy of proposed the title From Severn to Somme; a w In Flanders Ivor Gurney [2.50] Music and evolved over the following twenty- play on the poet’s own title for one of his e Think no More, Lad, No. 8 from A Shropshire Lad, IAS 20 Arthur Somervell [1.39] or-so years, coloured and contoured by both my anthologies. Gurney’s output struck a deep r Die beiden Grenadiere, Op. 49 No. 1 Robert Schumann [3.32] own changing sensibilities and rich input from chord with me and reverberated throughout my t Der Tambour, No. 5 from Mörike-Lieder Hugo Wolf [2.33] many musical relationships. recital programming for years to come until y Der Soldat, Op. 40 No. 3 Robert Schumann [2.51] another dear colleague, Malcolm Martineau, I was to take part in the Song Prize of the hatched the bright idea of expanding that group Epitaph Association of English Singers and Speakers. into a more eclectic collection of soldier u Channel Firing, No. 5 from Before and After Summer, Op. 16 Gerald Finzi [6.18] My singing teacher at that time, Mark Wildman, inspired songs for my New York recital debut i Into my Heart an air that kills, No. 9 from A Shropshire Lad, IAS 20 Arthur Somervell [1.55] who was instrumental in my ever being a singer in 2000.
- 3 - To Gurney we added Mahler, Schumann, France, Russia, Germany, the Austro-Hungarian THE SOLDIER have a favourite among my poems. Thomas Mussorgsky and Malcolm’s own genius touch Empire and the USA. FROM SEVERN TO SOMME Hardy’s was no. XXVII in A Shropshire Lad, of ending with Poulenc’s Lune d’Avril. A twenty- and I think it may be the best, though it is not minute competition programme became enough I sought to use these stunning compositions George Butterworth was a casualty of the First the most perfect.’ to fill a whole half, and was more generally to form a coherent but temporally flexible World War: in September 1915 he went into renamed, The Soldier. Satisfying as the conceit narrative that specifically wraps its arms around the trenches and was killed, aged 31, in the Arthur Somervell was the first English composer of this ‘Jedersoldat’ proved to be, it wasn’t those wounded and lost in multitudes of ways Battle of the Somme on 5 August 1916. He to develop the song-cycle. A Shropshire Lad, until early 2013 that its true calling became during World War I, but also to commemorate was awarded the MC posthumously for his published in 1904, was first performed by clear. With the centenary of the outbreak of all those men, women and children whose defence of a trench, which became officially Harry Plunket Greene at the Aeolian Hall on the First World War only a year away Gurney’s lives have been lost or torn apart, combatant known as the Butterworth Trench. The theme 3 February 1905 – we hear four of the ten journey from his home by the tranquil river or not, by the grief and horror of wars past, of transience, beautifully depicted in Loveliest songs on this CD. On the idle hill of summer Severn to the horrors of the Somme burned in present and future. I can think of no more fitting of trees, the first of Butterworth’s six Housman juxtaposes the beauty of an English summer my mind, and seemed the perfect narrative words to end with than those of Housman settings from A Shropshire Lad, pervades the landscape with the imminent fate of young from which to grow a more meaningful himself: They braced their belts about them, they whole cycle. Look not into my eyes concerns men marching to war: ‘food for powder’, as incarnation of the two sister programmes that crossed in ships the sea, they sought and found the Ancient Greek myth of Narcissus, the Falstaff describes the ‘pitiful rascals’ about blazed the trail. Gurney, wounded and gassed six feet of ground, and there they died, for me. ‘Grecian lad’ punished for rejecting lovers by to fight at the Battle of Shrewsbury in in 1917, was joined by George Butterworth, being made to fall in love with his own image. Shakespeare’s Henry IV. The final line, ‘Woman tragically killed at the Somme in 1916, and © Christopher Maltman, 2019 Narcissus saw his image reflected in a pool, bore me, I will rise’, refers tellingly to the the poems of A. E. Housman’s A Shropshire fell in love with it, tried in vain to approach it, Book of Job, xiv.: ‘Man that is born of a woman Lad, whose themes of youth, love, death and grew desperate and finally killed himself; is of few days, and full of trouble’: the young lost innocence became a totem for the When I was one-and-twenty illustrates the folly man of the poem will enlist and die young. young soldiers of the Great War. Further of committing yourself emotionally as a young White in the moon the long road lies describes Housman settings by Arthur Somervell and man; The lads in their hundreds ponders the a man leaving his love for an unknown Gerald Finzi’s epic illumination of Thomas fate of young men who will die as cannon destination, presumably the battlefield;Think Hardy’s masterpiece, Channel Firing, would fodder in battle; Is my team ploughing? – a no more, lad deals with the need to be carefree become the bones of each section; Home, heartrending dialogue between a fallen soldier and irresponsible in life – a common reaction to Journey, Battle and Epitaph. I fleshed out this and his still living friend – was Hardy’s favourite impending war; Into my heart an air that kills skeleton with works representing many of the Housman poem, as the latter explains in a is a poignant and wistful poem in which major belligerent powers involved; Great Britain, letter to Houston Martin: ‘I could not say that I Housman describes his longing for the innocent
- 4 - - 5 - land of childhood and the countryside west of stanzas mentions a different wind: South at sea, God’s railing against man’s brutality, motifs, sforzando chords and march-like rhythm Bromsgrove where he would roam happily as a wind for happiness, West wind for love, North which softens exquisitely in the sixth stanza that cry out to be played by horns and trumpets. young boy – the land of lost content. wind for wrath, East wind for pity. The pastoral at ‘for you are men’, and the skeletons rattling Mussorgsky intended to write an orchestral version mood of the first two stanzas turns dark in in their coffins. John Ireland’sIn boyhood is of the song but never carried out his resolve. Ivor Gurney fought at the Front in 1916, was the third by means of restless, più animato one of three pieces called We’ll to the Woods wounded on Good Friday 1917, and after a harmonies, and the music of the final no More, dedicated to his friend Arthur George Gabriel Fauré’s Les berceaux is one of his spell at Rouen Hospital was gassed at lines is perhaps the most plaintive in all Miller. Ireland wrote ‘In memory of the darkest most sombre songs, and has a vocal range Passchendaele. He was sent to a number of Gurney. Frederick William Harvey, the poet of days’ on the manuscript, and Housman in this of a 13th (from low A-flat to high F) that is war hospitals where, deprived of the friendship Gurney’s In Flanders, fought during the First poem from Last Poems mourns the friends greater than that of any other Fauré mélodie. of his fellow soldiers, he suffered increasing World War in the trenches, where he wrote he lost during the First World War. Ireland’s Sully Prudhomme’s poem describes in quasi mood swings. He threatened suicide in June A Gloucestershire Lad at Home and Abroad slow-moving song has no key signature. philosophical style how fate decrees that women 1918, was discharged from the army a month (1916), which contained ‘In Flanders’. By an When the USA entered World War I in 1917, should stay at home and rock the child’s cradle, before the Armistice, and returned to Gloucester. extraordinary coincidence, it was also in the Charles Ives wrote a series of ‘war songs’ among while men must cross the oceans. The violence His first book of poems, Severn and Somme trenches that Gurney set his friend’s poem: the the best known of which are Three Songs of with which Fauré composes ‘Et que les hommes (1917), published during the war, was followed manuscript indicates that it was composed at War, which comprise ‘In Flanders Fields’, ‘Tom curieux/Tentent les horizons qui leurrent’ by War’s Embers (1919). While writing poetry, ‘Crucifix Corner, Thiepval; finished 11 January Sails away’ and He is there!. Ives wrote the text [‘And that men with questing spirits/Shall seek he continued to compose, and published two 1917’. Severn meadows is Gurney’s most himself to the song, and then revised it in enticing horizons’] – set to a crescendo molto Housman cycles, Ludlow and Teme and The celebrated setting of his own words – the 1942 for use in World War II. The subtitle is marking that climaxes in a forte explosion Western Playland, in 1919. His mind soon gave manuscript is dated ‘Caulaincourt, March 19 Fighting for the People’s New Free World, and – suggests that the men are sailors and way; his family first committed him in 1922 1917’, which makes it likely that both words and several patriotic tunes are quoted, including doomed, perhaps, to perish in a watery grave. to Barnwood House Asylum and then to the music were written in the trenches. ‘The Battle Cry of Freedom’ that had been The seven songs of Francis Poulenc’s La City of London Mental Hospital in Dartford. written during the Civil War by the Boston courte paille were composed in 1960 and are He died of pulmonary tuberculosis at the City Channel firing (1940), from Gerald Finzi’s composer (and publisher) Geo. F. Root. The Poulenc’s farewell to the cycle form. Lune of London Mental Hospital in 1937. Black Before and After Summer, was written by Field Marshall from Mussorgsky’s Songs d’avril, the last of the set, portrays a utopia Stitchel (1920) is the most successful of his Thomas Hardy in April 1914 when British ships and Dances of Death falls into two distinct from which all guns have been banished. nine settings of the poems of Wilfred Gibson, were practising gunnery off the South Coast of parts: the extended narrative description This wonderful, other-worldy song of serenity, the Northumberland poet who moved to London England. Despite the occasional humorous of the battle scene and Death’s majestic marked Très lent et irréel, unfolds to a largely in 1912, where he rented a room above Harold tone, the theme of the poem is bleak indeed. In summoning of his victims. In the former piano dynamic and ends with the word ‘lune’ Monro’s Poetry Bookshop. Each of the four Finzi’s setting we hear the thunder of the guns the voice is accompanied by scurrying bass sung in a pppp whisper.
- 6 - - 7 - Gustav Mahler spent much of his childhood portrays the soldiers’ patriotism by introducing TEXTS As I was lying on Black Stitchel in the Moravian garrison town of Jihlava, and the Marseillaise in the final verses, only The wind was blowing from the West : it is reliably reported that as a young boy he to end the song with a faltering postlude 1 Loveliest of Trees And I was thinking of the quiet knew hundreds of military tunes by heart. that tells us that they collapse and die. The George Butterworth (1885-1916) Of my love’s breast Wo die schönen Trompeten blasen is a final half-rhyme (blitzen/schützen) suggests dialogue between a dead soldier and his with wonderful economy the dashing of the Loveliest of trees, the cherry now As I was lying on Black Stitchel grieving sweetheart. Major and minor alternate patriotic dream. Adelbert von Chamisso, the Is hung with bloom along the bough, The wind was blowing from the North throughout the song which ends in the soldier’s poet of Frauenliebe und -leben, was also a And stands about the woodland ride And I was thinking of the countries confession that his home is in the grave – most skilled translator, as Schumann reveals in Wearing white for Eastertide. Black with wrath after which the relentless martial rhythm, his version of Andersen’s Der Soldat. The As I was lying on Black Stitchel indicative of man’s subjection to Fate, slowly inexorable march theme accompanies the Now, of my threescore years and ten, The wind was blowing from the East : fades away. Revelge describes how a young firing squad of nine riflemen to the place of Twenty will not come again, And I could think no more for pity drummer-boy sets out to battle (verse 1), is execution and the hapless victim. The latter’s And take from seventy springs a score, Of man and beast wounded (verse 2) and calls out to his fellow- best friend is the narrator, and the only one It only leaves me fifty more. soldiers (verse 3). Unable to help, they die to hit the target: ‘But I, I shot him clean Wilfrid Wilson Gibson (1878-1962), before him (verse 5). The closer the young through the heart’, he exclaims over pianissimo And since to look at things in bloom © Reproduced with kind permission. soldier approaches death, the louder he sings, tremolando chords, while the postlude Fifty springs are little room, and the song is punctuated by trills, sforzandi depicts the slumping body of the corpse. Hugo About the woodlands I will go 3 On the Idle Hill of Summer and bare staccato octaves which gives it Wolf’s pleasure at composing Eduard Mörike’s To see the cherry hung with snow. Arthur Somervell (1863-1937) the character of a funeral march. In the final delicious fantasy Der Tambour can be felt two stanzas the dead boy turns narrator: in from the initial drum-roll in the piano and From A Shropshire Lad, A. E. Housman (1859-1936) On the idle hill of summer, an apocalyptic vision he describes how next heard in the astonishing prodigality of musical Sleepy with the flow of streams, morning he will lead the dead soldiers in front themes that he lavishes on the poem. It 2 Black Stitchel Far I hear the steady drummer of his sweetheart’s house, banging his drum was the first of the Mörike songbook to be Ivor Gurney (1890-1937) Drumming like a noise in dreams. as he goes. composed and unleashed a period of sustained creativity almost unparalleled in the history As I was lying on Black Stitchel Far and near and low and louder Heinrich Heine’s Die beiden Grenadiere tells of song. The wind was blowing from the South On the roads of earth go by, the story of two prisoners-of-war returning And I was thinking of the laughters Dear to friends and food for powder, home to France after years in Russia. Schumann Richard Stokes © 2019 Of my love’s mouth Soldiers marching, all to die.
- 8 - - 9 - East and west on fields forgotten And love it and be lost like me. Was soll ich hier nun länger stehn? Why leave me longer waiting here? Bleach the bones of comrades slain, One the long nights through must lie Ich seh die Morgenröt aufgehn, I see the rosy dawn appear, Lovely lads and dead and rotten; Spent in star-defeated sighs, Die Morgenröt, zwei helle Stern, The rosy dawn and two bright stars. None that go return again. But why should you as well as I Bei meinem Schatz da wär ich gern, I long to be beside my love, Perish? Gaze not in my eyes. Bei meinem Herzallerlieble. Beside my dearest love. Far the calling bugles hollo, High the screaming fife replies, A Grecian lad, as I hear tell, Das Mädchen stand auf, und ließ ihn ein, The girl arose and let him in, Gay the files of scarlet follow: One that many loved in vain, Sie heißt ihn auch willkommen sein. She bids him welcome too. Woman bore me, I will rise. Looked into a forest well Willkommen, lieber Knabe mein, O welcome, dearest love of mine, And never looked away again. So lang hast du gestanden! Too long have you been waiting. From A Shropshire Lad, A. E. Housman There, when the turf in springtime flowers, With downward eye and gazes sad, Sie reicht ihm auch die schneeweisse Hand. She gives to him her snow-white hand, 4 Look Not Into My Eyes Stands amid the glancing showers Von Ferne sang die Nachtigall, From far off sang the nightingale, George Butterworth A jonquil, not a Grecian lad. Das Mädchen fing zu weinen an. The girl began to weep.
Look not in my eyes, for fear From A Shropshire Lad, A. E. Housman Ach weine nicht, du Liebste mein, Ah, do not weep, beloved mine, They mirror true the sight I see, Aufs Jahr sollst du mein eigen sein; Within a year you shall be mine, And there you find your face too clear Mein eigen sollst du werden gewiß, You shall be mine most certainly, Wies keine sonst auf Erden ist. As no one else on the earth. O Lieb auf grüner Erden. O love on the green earth
5 Wo die Schoenen Trompeten Blasen Where the splendid trumpets sound Ich zieh’ in Krieg auf grüne Haid’, I’m going to war, to the green heath, Gustav Mahler (1860-1911) Die grüne Haide, die ist so weit. The green heath so far away. Allwo dort die schönen Trompeten blasen, There where the splendid trumpets sound, Wer ist denn draußen und wer klopfet an, Who stands outside and knocks at my door, Da ist mein Haus von grünem Rasen. There is my home of green turf. Der mich so leise wecken kann? Waking me so gently? Das ist der Herzallerliebste dein, It is your own true dearest love, Anonymous Steh auf und laß mich zu dir ein. Arise, and let me in!
- 10 - - 11 - 6 Les Berceaux The cradles That boy has sailed o’er the ocean, “Hip Hip Hooray!” is all he’ll say, Gabriel Fauré (1845-1924) He is there, he is there, he is there. As he marches to the Flanders front. He’s fighting for the right, Le long du quai les grands vaisseaux, Along the quay the great ships, but when it comes to might, That boy has sailed o’er the ocean... Que la houle incline en silence, Listing silently with the surge, He is there, he is there, he is there; For it’s rally round the Flag boys Ne prennent pas garde aux berceaux Pay no heed to the cradles As the Allies beat up all the warlords! Rally once again, Que la main des femmes balance. Rocked by women’s hands. He’ll be there, he’ll be there, and then the world will shout Shouting the battle cry of Freedom. Mais viendra le jour des adieux, But the day of parting will come, the Battle-cry of Freedom John McCrae (1872-1918) Car il faut que les femmes pleurent, For it is decreed that women shall weep, Tenting on a new camp ground. And that men with questing spirits Et que les hommes curieux 8 White in the Moon Shall venture toward enticing horizons. Tentent les horizons qui leurrent. Fifteen years ago today Arthur Somervell A little Yankee, with a German name Et ce jour-là les grands vaisseaux, And on that day the great ships, Heard the tale of “forty-eight” White in the moon the long road lies, Fuyant le port qui diminue, Leaving the dwindling harbour behind, Why his Granddaddy joined Uncle Sam, The moon stands blank above; Sentent leur masse retenue Shall feel their hulls held back His fathers fought that medieval stuff White in the moon the long road lies Par l’âme des lointains berceaux. By the soul of distant cradles. and he will fight it now; That leads me from my love. “Hip Hip Hooray! this is the day,” Sully Prudhomme (1839-1907) When he’ll finish up that aged job. Still hangs the hedge without a gust, Still, still the shadows stay: That boy has sailed o’er the ocean ... My feet upon the moonlit dust Pursue the ceaseless way. 7 He is There! In the decoration day parade. There’s a time in ev’ry life, Charles Ives (1874-1954) The village band would play When it’s do or die, and our yankee boy The world is round, so travellers tell, those old war tunes, Does his bit that we may live, And straight though reach the track, Fifteen years ago today and the G. A. R. would shout, In a world where all may have a “say.” Trudge on, trudge on, ‘twill all be well, A little Yankee, little yankee boy “Hip Hip Hooray!” in the same old way, He’s conscious always of his country’s aim The way will guide one back. Marched beside his granddaddy As it sounded on the old camp ground. which is Liberty for all,
- 12 - - 13 - But ere the circle homeward hies Or can anew see clear „Ach Bruder, ich kann dich nicht tragen, ‘O comrade, I cannot carry you, Far, far must it remove: Familiar faces. Die Feinde haben uns geschlagen, The enemy have routed us, White in the moon the long road lies Helf dir der liebe Gott; May dear God help you; That leads me from my love. And who loves joy as he Tralali, tralaley, tralalera, Tralalee, tralalay, tralala, That dwells in shadows? Ich muß marschieren bis in Tod“ I must march on to meet my death.’ From A Shropshire Lad, A. E. Housman Do not forget me quite, ‘Ah, comrades, you pass me by, O Severn meadows. „Ach Brüder, ihr geht ja mir vorüber, 9 Severn Meadows Als wärs mit mir vorbei, As though I were done for, Als wärs mit mir schon vorbei! As though I were already done for, Ivor Gurney Ivor Gurney (1890-1937) Tralali, tralaley, tralalera, Tralalee, tralalay, tralala, Only the wanderer Ihr tretet mir zu nah.“ You march too close to where I lie,. Knows England’s graces, „Ich muß wohl meine Trommel rühren, I must now start to beat my drum, Tralali, tralaley, tralali, tralaley, Tralalee, tralalay, tralalee, tralalay, Sonst werd’ ich mich verlieren, Or else I’ll be lost forever, 0 Revelge Reveille Tralali, tralaley, tralala! Tralalee, tralalay, tralala, Gustav Mahler Die Brüder dick gesät, My comrades strewn so thick Sie liegen wie gemäht.“ Lie like mown grass on the ground. Des Morgens zwischen drein und vieren, Between three and four of a morning, Da müssen wir Soldaten marschieren We soldiers have to march Er schlägt die Trommel auf und nieder, Up and down he beats his drum, Das Gäßlein auf und ab; Up and down the little street; Er wecket seine stillen Brüder, He wakes his silent comrades, Tralali, tralaley, tralalera, Tralalee, tralalay, tralala, Tralali, tralaley, tralali, tralaley, Tralalee, tralalay, tralalee, tralalay, Mein Schätzel sieht herab! My love looks at me from her window. Sie schlagen ihren Feind, They fall upon their foe, Tralali, tralaley, tralalera, Tralalee, tralalay, tralala, „Ach Bruder, jetzt bin ich geschossen, ‘O comrade, I’ve been shot, Ein Schrecken schlägt den Feind. And terror strikes the foe. Die Kugel hat mich schwere, schwer getroffen, The bullet’s wounded me badly, Er schlägt die Trommel auf und nieder, Up and down he beats his drum, Trag mich in mein Quartier! Carry me back to the camp, Da sind sie vor dem Nachtquartier schon wieder, Soon they’re all back at camp, Tralali, tralaley, tralalera, Tralalee, tralalay, tralala, Tralali, tralaley, tralali, tralaley! Tralalee, tralalay, tralalee, tralalay, Es ist nicht weit von hier.“ It isn’t far from here.’ Ins Gäßlein hell hinaus, Out into the bright street Sie ziehn vor Schätzeleins Haus, They pass before his sweetheart’s house,
- 14 - - 15 - Tralali, tralaley, tralali, tralaley, tralalera, Tralalee, tralalay, tralalee, tralalay, tralala, Yavilos smert’. I v tishine, Comes Death. And in the silence Sie ziehn vor Schätzeleins Haus, trallali. They pass before his sweetheart’s house, tralalee. Vnimaya volpi i molitvy, He hears the groans and prayers, Dovol’stva gordovo polna, And full of pride and content, Des Morgens stehen da die Gebeine, There in the morning lay their bones, Kak polkovodets, mesto bitvy Like a warrior chief, he moves round In Reih und Glied, sie stehn wie Leichensteine, In rank and file like tombstones, Krugom ob’yekhala ona. The field of battle. Die Trommel steht voran, At their head the drummer-boy Na kholm podnyavshis, oglyanulas, He climbs a hill, gazes about, Daß sie ihn sehen kann, That she may see him there, Ostanovilos, ulybnulas . . . Stops and smiles . . . Tralali, tralaley, tralali, tralaley, tralalera, Tralalee, tralalay, tralalee, tralalay, tralala, I nad ravninoy boyevoy And over the battlefield Daß sie ihn sehen kann! That she may see him there! Pronyossya golos rokovoy: The voice of doom is heard:
Anonymous “Konchena bitva! Ya vsekh pobedila! “The fight is ended! I have conquered all! Vse predo mnoy vy smirilis, boytsy! All you warriors have surrendered to me! q The Field-Marshall (Polkovodets) The Field-Marshal Zhizn vas possorila, ya pomirila! Life set you against each other, but I joined you in peace! Modest Mussorgsky (1839-1881) Druzhno vstavayte na smotr, mertvetsy! Now rise up for the roll-call of Death! Marshem torzhestvennym mimo proydite, March in a solemn file before me, Grokhochet bitva, bleshchut broni, The battle thunders, the armour flashes, Voysko moyo ya khochu soschitat’. I have no wish to record my troops. Orud’ya mednyye revut, The bronze cannons roar, V zemlyu potom svoi kosti slozhite, Later, you may lay your bones in the earth Begut polka, nesutsa koni, The regiments charge, the horses rush past, Sladko ot zhizni v zemle otdykhat’! To sweetly rest from life’s hardships! I reki krasnyye tekut, And rivers of red blood flow. Gody nezrimo proydut za godami, Year on year will pass unheeded, Pylayet polden, lyudi bytusa! Noon burns fiercely, the people fight on! V lyudyakh ischeznet i pamyat’ o vas. Men will have no memory of you at all, Sklonilos sontse, boy sil’ney! When the sun is low, the battle rages still more fiercely! Ya ne zabudu! I gromko nad vami But I’ll not forget! Here over your bones Zakat bledneyet, no derutsa At sunset the enemies fight on Pir budu pravit’ v polunochny chas! There shall be a noisy feast at midnight! Vragi vsyo yarostney i zley! More furiously and savagely! Plyaskoy tyazholoyu zemlyu syruyu I shall stamp heavily on the damp earth, I pala noch na pole brani, Night falls on the battlefield. Ya pritopchu, shtoby sen grobovuyu Your bones will never escape Druzhiny v mrake razoshlis . . . In the gloom the legions disperse . . . Kosti pokinut’ vovek ne smogli, The shades of the grave, Shtob nikogda vam ne vstat’ iz zemli!” And you shall never again rise out of the earth!” Vsyo stikhlo, i v nochnom tumane All is quiet, and in the dark night Stenan’ya k nebu podnyalis. Groans reach up to the sky. Togda, ozarena lunoyu, Then, lit by the moonlight, Arsenyi Golenischev-Kutusov (1848-1913) Na boevom svoyom kone, Astride his steed, Kostey serkaya beliznoyu, His white bones gleaming in the pale light,
- 16 - - 17 - w In Flanders e Think no More, Lad Da hörten sie beide die traurige Mär: For here they learnt the sorry tale Ivor Gurney Arthur Somervell Dass Frankreich verloren gegangen, That France was lost forever, Besiegt und geschlagen das tapfere Heer – Her valiant army beaten and shattered, I’m homesick for my hills again— Think no more, lad; laugh, be jolly; Und der Kaiser, der Kaiser gefangen. And the Emperor, the Emperor captured! My hills again! Why should men make haste to die? To see above the Severn plain Empty heads and tongues a-talking Da weinten zusammen die Grenadier’ The grenadiers then wept together, Unscabbarded against the sky Make the rough road easy walking, Wohl ob der kläglichen Kunde. As they heard of these sad tidings. The blue high blade of Cotswold lie; And the feather pate of folly Der Eine sprach: Wie weh wird mir, The first said: Ah, the agony, The giant clouds go royally Bears the falling sky. Wie brennt meine alte Wunde! How my old wound is burning! By jagged Malvern with a train of shadows. Der Andre sprach: Das Lied ist aus, The second said: This is the end, Where the land is low Oh, ‘tis jesting, dancing, drinking Auch ich möcht mit dir sterben, If only we could die together, Like a huge imprisoning O Spins the heavy world around. Doch hab ich Weib und Kind zu Haus, But I’ve a wife and child at home, I hear a heart that’s sound and high, If young hearts were not so clever, Die ohne mich verderben. Who would perish without me. I hear the heart within me cry: Oh, they would be young for ever; “I’m homesick for my hills again— Think no more; ‘tis only thinking Was schert mich Weib, was schert mich Kind, To hell with wife, to hell with child, My hills again! Lays lads underground. Ich trage weit bess’res Verlangen; I strive for far higher things; Cotswold or Malvern, sun or rain! Lass sie betteln gehn, wenn sie hungrig sind, – Let them beg, if they’ve nothing to eat – My hills again!” From A Shropshire Lad, A. E. Housman Mein Kaiser, mein Kaiser gefangen! My Emperor, my Emperor captured!
Frederick William Harvey (1888-1957) , Reproduced with kind Gewähr mir, Bruder, eine Bitt’: Grant me brother one request, permission of Elaine Jackson and Eileen Griffiths. Wenn ich jetzt sterben werde, If I am now to die, So nimm meine Leiche nach Frankreich mit, Take my corpse with you to France, Begrab’ mich in Frankreichs Erde. Bury me in French soil. r Die beiden Grenadiere The two grenadiers Das Ehrenkreuz am roten Band You shall lay on my heart Robert Schumann (1810-1856) Sollst du aufs Herz mir legen; The Cross of Valour with its red ribbon; Nach Frankreich zogen zwei Grenadier’, Two grenadiers, held captive in Russia, Die Flinte gib mir in die Hand, And place my musket in my hand Die waren in Russland gefangen. Were marching back to France, Und gürt’ mir um den Degen. And gird my sword about me. Und als sie kamen ins deutsche Quartier, And when they set foot on German soil, So will ich liegen und horchen still, So shall I lie and listen Sie liessen die Köpfe hangen. They hung their heads in shame. Wie eine Schildwach’, im Grabe, Like a silent sentry in my grave,
- 18 - - 19 - Bis einst ich höre Kanonengebrüll Until I hear the cannons’ roar Mir fällt doch meine Liebste ein: It still reminds me of my beloved: Und wiehernder Rosse Getrabe. And the horses gallop and neigh. Ach weh! Jetzt hat der Spaß ein End! Oh dear! There’s an end to my fun! – Wenn nur meine Mutter hexen könnt! – If only my mother could work magic! Dann reitet mein Kaiser wohl über mein Grab, My Emperor will then ride over my grave, Viel Schwerter klirren und blitzen; Swords will be clashing and flashing; Eduard Mörike (1804-1875) Dann steig ich gewaffnet hervor aus dem Grab, – I shall then rise fully armed from the grave – y Den Kaiser, den Kaiser zu schützen. To defend the Emperor, my Emperor! Der Soldat The soldier Robert Schumann Heinrich Heine (1797-1856) Es geht bei gedämpfter Trommel Klang. He walks to the sound of the muffled drum; t Der Tambour The drummer-boy Wie weit noch die Stätte! der Weg wie lang! How far the place! the way how long! Hugo Wolf (1860-1903) O wär’ er zur Ruh und alles vorbei! Ah, were he at rest and all this done! Ich glaub’, es bricht mir das Herz entzwei. My heart, I think, will break in two! Wenn meine Mutter hexen könnt, If my mother could work magic, Da müßt sie mit dem Regiment She’d have to go with the regiment Ich hab’ in der Welt nur ihn geliebt, None but him in the world have I loved, Nach Frankreich, überall mit hin, To France and everywhere, Nur ihn, dem jetzt man den Tod doch gibt. Him, who now they’re putting to death. Und wär die Marketenderin. And be the vivandière. Bei klingendem Spiele wird paradiert, The firing squad parades will full band, Im Lager, wohl um Mitternacht In camp, at midnight, Dazu bin auch ich kommandiert. I too am detailed for the task. Wenn niemand auf ist als die Wacht, When no one’s up save the guard, Nun schaut er auf zum letztenmal Now he looks up for one last time Und alles schnarchet, Roß und Mann, And everyone – man and horse – is snoring, In Gottes Sonne freudigen Strahl, – At the joyous rays of God’s sun, – Vor meiner Trommel säß ich dann: Then I’d sit by my drum: Nun binden sie ihm die Augen zu, – Now they put his blindfold on, – Die Trommel müßt eine Schüssel sein, My drum would be a bowl Dir schenke Gott die ewige Ruh’! May God grant you eternal peace. Ein warmes Sauerkraut darein, Of hot sauerkraut, Die Schlegel Messer und Gabel, The sticks would be a knife and fork, Es haben dann Neun wohl angelegt, The nine of us took good aim, Eine lange Wurst mein Sabel; My sabre – a long sausage; Acht Kugeln haben vorbeigefegt; Eight bullets whistled wide of the mark; Mein Tschako wär ein Humpen gut, My shako would be a tankard Sie zitterten alle vor Jammer und Schmerz – Every man shook with pity and grief – Den füll ich mit Burgunderblut. Filled with red Burgundy. Ich aber, ich traf ihn mitten in das Herz. But I, I shot him clean through the heart. Und weil es mir an Lichte fehlt, And because I lack light, Hans Christian Andersen (1805-1875), Da scheint der Mond in mein Gezelt; The moon shines into my tent; trs. Adelbert von Chamisso (1781-1838) Scheint er auch auf franzö’sch herein, And though it shines in French,
- 20 - - 21 - u Channel Firing “Ha, ha. It will be warmer when That is the land of lost content, p The lads in their hundreds Gerald Finzi (1901-1956) I blow the trumpet (if indeed I see it shining plain, George Butterworth I ever do; for you are men, The happy highways where I went That night your great guns, unawares, And rest eternal sorely need).” And cannot come again. The lads in their hundreds to Ludlow come in for Shook all our coffins as we lay, the fair, And broke the chancel window-squares, So down we lay again. “I wonder, From A Shropshire Lad, A. E. Housman There’s men from the barn and the forge and the We thought it was the Judgment-day. Will the world ever saner be,” mill and the fold, Said one, “than when He sent us under o When I was one and twenty The lads for the girls and the lads for the liquor And sat upright. While drearisome In our indifferent century!” George Butterworth are there, Arose the howl of wakened hounds: And there with the rest are the lads that will never The mouse let fall the altar-crumb, And many a skeleton shook his head. When I was one-and-twenty be old. The worms drew back into the mounds, “Instead of preaching forty year,” I heard a wise man say, My neighbour Parson Thirdly said, “Give crowns and pounds and guineas There’s chaps from the town and the field and the The glebe cow drooled. Till God called, “No; “I wish I had stuck to pipes and beer.” But not your heart away; till and the cart, It’s gunnery practice out at sea Give pearls away and rubies And many to count are the stalwart, and many Just as before you went below; Again the guns disturbed the hour, But keep your fancy free.” the brave, The world is as it used to be: Roaring their readiness to avenge, But I was one-and-twenty, And many the handsome of face and the As far inland as Stourton Tower, No use to talk to me. handsome of heart, “All nations striving strong to make And Camelot, and starlit Stonehenge. And few that will carry their looks or their truth to Red war yet redder. Mad as hatters When I was one-and-twenty the grave. They do no more for Christés sake Thomas Hardy (1840-1928) I heard him say again, Than you who are helpless in such matters. “The heart out of the bosom I wish one could know them, I wish there were i Into my Heart an air that kills Was never given in vain; tokens to tell “That this is not the judgment-hour Arthur Somervell ‘Tis paid with sighs a plenty The fortunate fellows that now you can never discern; For some of them’s a blessed thing, And sold for endless rue.” And then one could talk with them friendly and For if it were they’d have to scour Into my heart an air that kills And I am two-and-twenty, wish them farewell Hell’s floor for so much threatening.... From yon far country blows: And oh, ‘tis true, ‘tis true. And watch them depart on the way that they will What are those blue remembered hills, not return. What spires, what farms are those? From A Shropshire Lad, A. E. Housman
- 22 - - 23 - But now you may stare as you like and there’s Ay the ball is flying, s Lune d’Avril April moon nothing to scan; The lads play heart and soul; Francis Poulenc (1899-1963) And brushing your elbow unguessed-at and not The goal stands up, the keeper to be told Stands up to keep the goal. Lune, Moon, They carry back bright to the coiner the mintage Belle lune, lune d’avril, Beautiful moon, April moon, of man, “Is my girl happy, Faites-moi voir en mon dormant Let me see in my sleep The lads that will die in their glory and never That I thought hard to leave, Le pêcher au cœur de safran, The peach tree with the saffron heart, be old. And has she tired of weeping Le poisson qui rit du grésil, The fish who laughs at the sleet, As she lies down at eve?” L’oiseau qui, lointain comme un cor, The bird that, distant as a hunting horn, Doucement réveille les morts Gently wakens the dead, From A Shropshire Lad, A. E. Housman Ay, she lies down lightly, Et surtout, surtout le pays And above all, above all, the land Where there is joy, where there is light, a Is my team Ploughing? She lies not down to weep: Où il fait joie, où il fait clair, George Butterworth Your girl is well contented. Où soleilleux de primevères, Where sunlit with primroses Be still, my lad, and sleep. On a brisé tous les fusils. All the guns have been destroyed. “Is my team ploughing, Belle lune, lune d’avril, Beautiful moon, April moon, That I was used to drive “Is my friend hearty, Lune. Moon. And hear the harness jingle Now I am thin and pine, Maurice Carême (1899-1978) When I was man alive?” And has he found to sleep in A better bed than mine?” Ay, the horses trample, f In boyhood I sought them far and found them, The harness jingles now; Yes, lad, I lie easy, John Ireland (1879-1962) The sure, the straight, the brave, No change though you lie under I lie as lads would choose; The hearts I lost my own to, When I would muse in boyhood The land you used to plough. I cheer a dead man’s sweetheart, The souls I could not save. The wild green woods among, Never ask me whose. They braced their belts about them, And nurse resolves and fancies “Is football playing They crossed in ships the sea, Because the world was young, Along the river shore, From A Shropshire Lad, A. E. Housman They sought and found six feet of ground, It was not foes to conquer, With lads to chase the leather, And there they died for me. Nor sweethearts to be kind, Now I stand up no more?” But it was friends to die for From A Shropshire Lad, A. E. Housman That I would seek and find.
- 24 - - 25 - CHRISTOPHER MALTMAN the Metropolitan Opera in New York, at the discography, from Purcell to Ades includes San Francisco Opera, in Seattle, San Diego John Corigliano’s Grammy award-winning Following his degree in Biochemistry from and Los Angeles. Ghost of Versailles from Los Angeles Opera. the University of Warwick, English baritone Christopher Maltman studied singing at the Celebrated on the concert platform, highlights Royal Academy of Music. have included the Chicago Symphony Orchestra / James Conlon at the Ravinia Festival, Cleveland A globally renowned Don Giovanni, he has sung Orchestra / Franz Welser-Möst, Philharmonia the role in London, Berlin, Munich, Cologne, Orchestra / Christoph von Dohnányi, BBC Salzburg, Amsterdam, Toulouse, Beijing, Chicago, Symphony Orchestra / John Adams, Orchestra San Sebastian, Edinburgh, and New York. Now, of the Age of Enlightenment / Sir Roger increasingly in demand for Verdi roles, he has Norrington, London Symphony Orchestra / Sir sung Posa Don Carlo, Simon Boccanegra Simon Rattle, Tadaaki Otaka, Valery Gergiev Falstaff, Conte di Luna Il trovatore, Guy de and Sir Colin Davis, Concentus Musicus Wien Montfort Les Vêpres siciliennes and more / Nikolaus Harnoncourt, Orchestra Filarmonica recently, Don Carlo di Vargas La forza del della Scala / Daniel Harding, Dresden destino and Rigoletto to wide critical acclaim. Staatskapelle / Sir John Eliot Gardiner, Boston Symphony / James Conlon and Sir Colin Davis, A favourite at the Royal Opera House in London Los Angeles Philharmonic / Esa-Pekka Salonen and a regular guest at the Bayerische Staatsoper and the New York Philharmonic / Kurt Masur. in Munich, the Wiener Staatsoper, Deutsche Staatsoper Berlin and the Salzburger Festspiele, Christopher won the Lieder Prize in the 1997 Christopher also performs elsewhere across Cardiff Singer of the World Competition and Europe including the Opéra National de Paris, remains a renowned interpreter of Lieder and Frankfurt Oper, Opernhaus Zurich, the Liceu song. He has continued to delight audiences Barcelona, Teatro Real Madrid, Dutch National with his sensitive and engaging song Opera and at the Teatro Regio in Turin. In the performances, many of which are documented United States he frequently appears at in acclaimed recordings. His vast and varied © Pia Clodi
- 26 - - 27 - JOSEPH MIDDLETON Joseph enjoys fruitful partnerships with Royal, Matthew Rose, Carolyn Sampson, Nicky He has a fast-growing and award-winning internationally established singers including Spence and Roderick Williams. He regularly discography and was the recipient of the Royal Pianist Joseph Middleton specialises in the art Sir Thomas Allen, Louise Alder, Ian Bostridge, collaborates with rising stars from the younger Philharmonic Society’s Young Artist of the Year of song accompaniment and chamber music Dame Sarah Connolly, Lucy Crowe, Iestyn Davies, generation and in 2012 he formed the Myrthen Award in 2017. and has been highly acclaimed within this Fatma Said, Samuel Hasselhorn, Wolfgang Ensemble to further explore lesser-known field. Described in the BBC Music Magazine as Holzmair, Christiane Karg, Katarina Karnéus, song repertoire with regular duo partners ‘one of the brightest stars in the world of song Angelika Kirchschlager, Dame Felicity Lott, Mary Bevan, Clara Mouriz, Allan Clayton and and Lieder’, he has also been labelled ‘the Christopher Maltman, John Mark Ainsley, Ann Marcus Farnsworth. Signum Records released their cream of the new generation’ by The Times and Murray, James Newby, Mark Padmore, Miah début CD ‘Songs to the Moon‘. ‘a perfect accompanist’ by Opera Now. Persson, Ashley Riches, Amanda Roocroft, Kate Recent seasons have taken him to London’s Wigmore Hall, Royal Opera House and Royal Festival Hall, the Vienna Konzerthaus, Amsterdam Concertgebouw and Muziekgebouw, Köln Philharmonie, Strasbourg, Frankfurt, Lille and Gothenburg Opera Houses, Paris Musée d’Orsay, Zürich Tonhalle, deSingel Antwerp, Luxembourg Philharmonie, Bozar Brussels, Tokyo’s Oji Hall and Alice Tully Hall. He regularly appears at festivals in Aix-en-Provence, Aldeburgh, Edinburgh, Munich, Stuttgart, Frankfurt, Ravinia, Japan, San Francisco, Toronto and Vancouver as well as the BBC Proms, and is often heard in his own series on BBC Radio 3.
Joseph Middleton is director of Leeds Lieder, musician in residence at Pembroke College Cambridge and a professor and Fellow at his
© Sussie Alhberg alma mater, the Royal Academy of Music.
- 28 - - 29 - Recorded in Potton Hall, Westleton, Suffolk, UK from 3rd to 5th September 2018. Recording Engineer, Producer and Editor – Jens Braun
Translations by Richard Stokes from The Book of Lieder (Faber, 2005) and A French Song Companion (OUP, 2000)
Cover Image – Study for ‘A Column on the March’, c.1914 (black and yellow chalk on the march) by Christopher Richard Wynne Nevinson (1889-1946), © The Higgins Art Gallery & Museum, Bedford, UK / Bridgeman Images. Reproduced with permission. Design and Artwork – Woven Design www.wovendesign.co.uk
P 2019 The copyright in this sound recording is owned by Signum Records Ltd © 2019 The copyright in this CD booklet, notes and design is owned by Signum Records Ltd
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SignumClassics, Signum Records Ltd., Suite 14, 21 Wadsworth Road, Perivale, Middlesex, UB6 7LQ, UK. +44 (0) 20 8997 4000 E-mail: [email protected] www.signumrecords.com © Robert Słuszniak
- 30 - - 31 - ALSO AVAILABLE on signumclassics
Britten: War Requiem Brahms, Fauré, Schumann: Songs to the Moon Gabrieli Consort & Players, Paul McCreesh The Myrthen Ensemble Susan Gritton, John Mark Ainsley, Christopher Maltman Mary Bevan, Clara Mouriz, Allan Clayton Wroclaw Philharmonic Choir, Gabrieli Young Singers Scheme Marcus Farnsworth, Joseph Middleton SIGCD340 SIGCD443
“... the sound picture has the greatest depth of range and “The four voices blend beautifully in quartets by Brahms … Best recording… the profundity and coherence of McCreesh’s reading of all, though, is Bevan singing Elisabeth Machony’s ‘Sun Moon sets a new standard for this work.” BBC Music Magazine Choral and Stars’, a mystic, high-lying setting of Thomas Traherne, her Award Winner 2014 voice ascending into the stratosphere with rapturous ease … Middleton is outstanding, his reputation as a rising star among accompanists richly deserved.” Gramophone
Available through most record stores and at www.signumrecords.com For more information call +44 (0) 20 8997 4000 CTP Template: CD_INL1 COLOURS Compact Disc Back Inlay CYAN Customer SignumClassics MAGENTA YELLOW Catalogue No.SIGCD592 BLACK Job Title: The Soldier SIGNUM CLASSICS SIGCD592
THE SOLDIER FROM SEVERN TO SOMME
THE SOLDIER: FROM SEVERN TO SOMME MIDDLETON / MALTMAN Home e Think no More, Lad Arthur Somervell [1.39] 1 Loveliest of Trees George Butterworth [2.35] r Die beiden Grenadiere Robert Schumann [3.32] 2 Black Stitchel Ivor Gurney [2.19] t Der Tambour Hugo Wolf [2.33] 3 On the Idle Hill of Summer Arthur Somervell [2.28] y Der Soldat Robert Schumann [2.51] 4 Look Not Into My Eyes George Butterworth [2.06] 5 Wo die Schoenen Gustav Mahler [6.42] Epitaph u Gerald Finzi [6.18] Trompeten Blasen Channel Firing i Into my Heart an air that kills Arthur Somervell [1.55] Journey o When I Was One and Twenty George Butterworth [1.23] 6 Les Berceaux Gabriel Fauré [2.24] p The Lads in Their Hundreds George Butterworth [2.28] 7 He is There! Charles Ives [3.46] a Is My Team Ploughing? George Butterworth [3.43] 8 White in the Moon Arthur Somervell [2.56] s Lune d’Avril Francis Pouelnc [2.30] 9 Severn Meadows Ivor Gurney [1.59] 0 Revelge Gustav Mahler [7.06] Encore d In Boyhood John Ireland [2.16] Battle Total timings: [73.54] q The Field-Marshall Modest Mussorgsky [5.35] w In Flanders Ivor Gurney [2.50]
CHRISTOPHER MALTMAN baritone MIDDLETON / MALTMAN / THE SOLDIER: FROM SEVERN TO SOMME MIDDLETON JOSEPH MIDDLETON PIANO
LC15723 Signum Records Ltd, Suite 14, 21 Wadsworth Road, Perivale, Middlesex UB6 7LQ, United Kingdom. P 2019 Signum Records DDD SIGCD592 SIGCD592 © 2019 Signum Records www.signumrecords.com 24 bit digital recording 6 35212 05922 7 SIGNUM CLASSICS