Receiving a diagnosis of amyotrophic lateral sclerosis in 1998 re-ignited my quest for Spoon River. This time, I realized that I would have to use my knowledge of American literature and my skills as a musician and composer to bring Spoon River to life.
My long time neurologist and treasured friend suggested I write a series of art songs for her daughter, who is studying voice at the music conservatory of Gettysburg College. Since she's the matriarch of a family of accordionists, she specified that the accompaniment be written for the accordion with her son in mind as a performer. I immediately saw that this was an unprecedented but perfect compositional medium. Of course, my textual sources would be from Spoon River.
Much to my surprise, I found that in the nearly 100 years since the publication of "Spoon River Anthology", many musicians had tackled the daunting task of setting Masters' poetry to music. The work is written in an unusual synthesis of blank (free) verse, gravestone epitaph doggerel, mildly archaic Midwestern speech patterns, and artistic license. I had decided to use an amalgamation of the style associated with the masters of 20th-century Philadelphia art song composition (Curtis faculty members past and present including Samuel Barber, Giancarlo Menotti, Vincent Persichetti, Ned Rorem) and traditional American folk song. This approach allowed me to use polychordal harmonization and pandiatonicism in conjunction with simple melody lines. However, Masters' verse did not "scan" well for a smooth incorporation into a song. I was forced to make changes to Masters' words, but strictly maintained his intent and meaning. The natural expressiveness of the soprano voice coupled with the unusually wide range of emotional evocation possible with the accordion produced something, in my opinion, that is unique and mutually reinforcing.
"Spoon River Songs" (Senderoff, 2008) begins with a setting of "The Hill". This narrative poem is the introduction to "Spoon River Anthology". It is stated unequivocally that small town life was not idyllic. It could be horrific. The characters die as a result of wanton acts of cruelty, bad luck, overwork, and alcoholism. Although they are all sleeping, it is probably a troubled sleep. I have set the ominous drone of the accordion against a plaintive vocal melody that moves between loosely defined modal and minor tonalities. The overall mood is sad but resigned. Although I have set only the first verse (involving male characters), the second verse describing the tragedies of female characters could easily be set to the existing melody.
The second song is a setting of the epitaph of "Eugenia Todd". Ms. Todd impressed me as an irritating woman who would corner you at a party and pour out a litany of physical ailments that seem to be of equal importance, or the cause of her bedrock existential decompensations. Although she is essentially unbalanced, she is firmly in touch with her emotional needs and severely affected by disappointment and loss. I tried to illuminate these aspects of her personality by inappropriate use of traditional American Square dance tunes, dissonant polychords, and a mocking "oom-pah" rhythm in accompaniment. The vocal melody is humorously melismatic. It employs awkward rhythms characterized by hemiola, as well as a psychotic bit of Sprechstimme. A poignant central section highlights Ms. Todd's existential sadness.
The third and currently final song of the cycle is the epitaph of "Lucinda Matlock". Masters uses her as a vehicle to extol the virtues possessed by the original settlers of Spoon River: devotion to family, devotion to neighbors, acceptance of hard work as the pathway to accomplishment and happiness, as well as an unfettered joy in the simple pleasures of life. Masters saw these values disappearing during his lifetime, and many of the epitaphs scold the current inhabitants of Spoon River. Ms. Matlock met her husband playing "snap-all to Winchester", a partner-swapping game occurring at dances. They were happily married longer than most people live. During that time, she saw her share of joy and tragedy, but at 96, she had simply lived enough and moved eagerly to the next world. She berates the current inhabitants for expressing anger, sorrow, and weariness in their lives. "Life is too strong for you. It takes life to love life," she says. I have illustrated her love of dancing, child rearing, and constancy with a repetitive rocking figure similar to one used by Samuel Barber in "Knoxville Summer of 1915". Her melody resembles a lilting folk tune. Conflict and dissonance are absent from the accompaniment. The central section is a transcription of a traditional Kentucky fiddle tune called "Rose in the Mountain". I took liberties with the text of her song; I could not let such a wonderful woman refer to people as "degenerate sons and daughters", so I dropped the line.
If you have clicked at the proper place before reading this entry, you have heard one of the original cast members of "Spoon River Anthology" present the epitaph of "Lucinda Matlock". When I composed Ms. Matlock's song, I changed Masters' text as shown below:
Lucinda MatlockOne time we changed partners, driving home in the moonlight of middle June.
And then and then, and then, then, then!
I found Davey!
We were married and lived together for Seven, Seven, Seventy years!
Enjoying working raising twelve children
Eight of whom we lost ere I reached the age of sixty.
I spun, I wove, I nursed the sick, kept the house, nursed the sick-
But on holiday-
Ran over fields where sang the pretty larks, and by Spoon River gather'd many shells,
Flowers, flowers, medicinal weed,
Shouting to the wooded hills and valleys green!
Green!
Shouting! Singing! Singing! Shouting!
To a land of sweet repose
What's this I hear of sorrow and weariness?
Anger, discontent and drooping hopes?
Life is too strong for you!
It takes life to love life!
Shouting! Singing! Singing! Loving!
Below is a MIDI rendition of the song; when I can get recordings of the concert I'll post them.
Click here
No comments:
Post a Comment