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FOR AN UNKNOWN SOLDIER AN AIRMAIL LETTER If she were far away, he might jot down a FROM MOZART theme and variations as a musical letter. One JONATHAN DOVE For Two Horns, String Quartet and Piano or two variations might catch some of the musical inflections of places he visited; others If Mozart were alive today, he might enjoy the would be thoughts of Constanze, intimate, speed of modern travel, and the accessibility tender and playful. As the basis for this An Airmail Letter from Mozart (1993) 8 Women at Munition Making [5.03] of remote parts of the globe. But however fast imaginary letter, I have used the Theme and 9 Before Action [6.54] 1 Theme & Variation I [3.17] and far he went, he would probably still be Variations, and one or two other ideas, from 0 Dead Man’s Dump [12.09] thinking of Constanze, and writing to her, “You Mozart’s Divertimento K287. 2 Variations II & III [3.53] q To His Love [4.38] cannot imagine how slowly time goes when 3 Variation IV [2.59] w The Wind on the Downs [5.37] you are not with me!” Doubtless he would FOR AN UNKNOWN SOLIDER 4 Variations V, VI, VII & VIII [4.54] e An Imperial Elegy [5.59] still cherish her picture (“If I were to tell you A cantata of remembrance to mark the centenary Melvyn Tan piano all the things I do with your portrait, you of the First World War. For tenor solo, children’s Nicky Spence tenor London Mozart Players would laugh heartily”) and say goodnight to choir, SATB chorus and chamber orchestra. London Mozart Players Marieke Blankestijn first violin it (“Goodnight, little mouse, sleep well”). Helena Smart second violin Portsmouth Grammar School Chamber Choir Faced with the immensity of the First World Sophie Renshaw viola Oxford Bach Choir If he were to write to her from this imaginary War, I thought it wise not to attempt to say too Sebastian Comberti cello Children’s Choir Stacey Watton double bass journey, he would try to cheer her up (“Primo: much. I wanted to try to tell the story of just The Minster Junior School Nicholas Korth horn I beg of you not to be sad”) and perhaps want one man, an unknown soldier, as vividly as Monks Orchard Primary School Martin Grainger horn Ecclesbourne Primary School to share some musical thoughts. There is a possible. At first, I had the idea of using actual Nicholas Cleobury conductor delightful account of Mozart driving through letters from a soldier, or sailor – letters home, For An Unknown Solider (1994) the countryside with Constanze, humming all or extracts from a diary, perhaps. Portsmouth 5 1914 [4.09] Total timings: [65.22] the musical ideas that came into his head, Grammar School’s archivist, John Sadden, 6 The Poets are Waiting [1.50] and saying “it is too silly that we [composers] provided me with a great deal of first-hand material, as well as research projects by 7 The Call [3.57] have got to hatch out our work in a room.” pupils exploring as much as they could find out about individual Portsmuthians who were killed in action. www.signumrecords.com - 3 - I studied many fascinating first-hand accounts The sequence begins and ends with less familiar Dead Man’s Dump is the longest text in the Is over all the width of Europe whirled, of warfare, and touching letters to loved ones. poems by the most famous First World War sequence, a dramatic and harrowing account Rending the sails of progress. Rent or furled The cumulative effect of reading them was poet, Wilfred Owen, killed a few days before the written by Isaac Rosenberg in 1917. He was Are all Art’s ensigns. Verse wails. Now begin powerful, but I did not find any that could be armistice in 1918. 1914 describes the outbreak killed the following year. Famines of thought and feeling. Love’s wine’s thin. sung effectively. I needed a more concentrated of war. Monro’s The Poets are Waiting conjures The grain of human Autumn rots, down-hurled. form of text, something more distilled, and a tumult of voices raised in favour of battle. Ivor Gurney survived gassing, but with his so I turned to poetry. I realised that many One of Wilfred Owen’s best known poems, Dulce mental and physical health wrecked. To His For after Spring had bloomed in early Greece, poems written during the war were also, in a et decorum est, was originally dedicated ‘To Love is a letter home after the death of a And Summer blazed her glory out with Rome, sense, letters home. Jessie Pope’, and Pope’s taunting verses in The comrade. Its opening, ‘He’s gone,’ is echoed An Autumn softly fell, a harvest home, Call voice sentiments widely enough shared by the voices of children in another traditional A slow grand age, and rich with all increase. From my reading, a sequence of poems gradually to be sung by children in the playground. song, Tom’s Gone to Hilo. In Marian Allen’s But now, for us, wild Winter, and the need emerged which suggested to me one man’s Charles Hamilton Sorley was killed in the The Wind on the Downs, her beloved lives on Of sowings for new Spring, and blood for seed. journey through the war: beginning with Battle of Loos in 1915, at the age of twenty, in her mind. An Imperial Elegy appears to enthusiasm and the decision to enlist; going so there is prescience in All the Hills and look down on the battlefield of Europe from q The Poets are Waiting on to discover the reality of war, and finding Vales Along, an image of men marching to somewhere above. Harold Monro (1879-1932) death on the battlefield; the grief of those left their deaths. Contrasting with this male behind. Four of the poets I have chosen were sound, young women alone sing Women at Notes for both pieces by Jonthan Dove Hefty barbarians, killed in the war; all were writing during it. I Munition Making, and children sing of using Roaring for war, chose poems that had the immediacy of munitions in the traditional marching song The Are breaking upon us; first-hand experience, or suggested the voices British Grenadiers. TEXTS Clouds of their cavalry, – messages, opinions – in someone’s head. Waves of their infantry, 0 Particularly in the First World War, the Lieutenant William Noel Hodgson died a few 1914 Mountains of guns. Wilfred Owen (1893-1918) experiences of men and women were quite days after writing Before Action, killed on the Winged they are coming, Reproduced by permission of the Wilfred Owen Royalties different, so I have set some poems for male first day of the Battle of the Somme in 1916. Trust from “Wilfred Owen, The Complete Poems and Plated and mailed, voices only, or female voices only. I was Male voices share his plea ‘Make me a man, O Fragments”, Jon Stallworthy, ed. (Chatto & Windus, 2013) Snorting their jargon. aware that I was writing for young voices Lord’; the solo tenor finishes his prayer ‘Help me near the age of many of those who fought, as to die, O Lord.’ Between the verses, young women War broke: and now the Winter of the world Oh to whom shall a song of battle be chanted? well as for children. sing a letter To You in France. (Helen Dircks With perishing great darkness closes in. Not to our lord of the hosts on his ancient throne, wrote two books of verse, in 1918 and 1920.) The foul tornado, centred at Berlin, Drowsing the ages out in Heaven alone. - 4 - - 5 - The celestial choirs are mute, the angels have fled: Who’ll earn the Empire’s thanks— All the music of their going, Like bees among the sweetest mind flowers Word is gone forth abroad that our lord is dead. Will you, my laddie? Ringing swinging glad song-throwing, Gaining nourishment for the thoughts to be, Who’ll swell the victor’s ranks— Earth will echo still, when foot Are bruised against the law, To what God Will you, my laddie? Lies numb and voice mute. ‘Kill, kill’. Shall we chant When that procession comes, They must take part in defacing and destroying the Our songs of Battle? Banners and rolling drums— On, marching men, on natural body Who’ll stand and bite his thumbs— To the gates of death with song. Which, certainly during this dispensation w The Call Will you, my laddie? Sow your gladness for earth’s reaping, Is the shrine of the spirit. Jessie Pope (1868-1941) So you may be glad, though sleeping. O God! All the Hills and Vales Along Throughout the ages we have seen, Who’s for the trench— Charles Hamilton Sorley (1895-1915) Strew your gladness on earth’s bed, Again and again Are you, my laddie? So be merry, so be dead. Men by Thee created Who’ll follow French— All the hills and vales along Cancelling each other. Will you, my laddie? Earth is bursting into song, e Women at Munition Making And we have marvelled at the seeming annihilation Who’s fretting to begin, And the singers are the chaps Mary Gabrielle Collins (1874-1945) Of Thy work. Who’s going out to win? Who are going to die perhaps. But this goes further, And who wants to save his skin— Their hands should minister unto the flame of life, Taints the fountain head, Do you, my laddie? O sing, marching men, Their fingers guide Mounts like a poison to the Creator’s very heart.