Tag: Ben Jonson

Shakespeariana – XIV

Pubblicato da Claudio Capriolo4 commenti

Take those lips away

Take, O take those lips away,
That so sweetly were forsworn;
And those eyes, the break of day,
Lights that do mislead the morn:
But my kisses bring again
Seals of love, though seal’d in vain.

Hide, O hide those hills of snow
That thy frozen bosom bears,
On whose tops the pinks that grow
Are yet of those that April wears,
But first set my poor heart free,
Bound in those icy chains by thee.

La prima strofa si trova nella commedia di Shakespeare Misura per misura (atto IV, scena 1a), rappresentata per la prima volta nel 1604; non sappiamo su quale melodia fosse cantata. Prima e seconda strofa sono nel dramma Rollo Duke of Normandy, or The Bloody Brother, scritto in collaborazione da John Fletcher, Philip Massinger, Ben Jonson e George Chapman in data imprecisabile (comunque non prima del 1612). Non è dato di sapere se la seconda strofe sia un’aggiunta di Fletcher oppure se tanto Shakespeare quanto Fletcher si siano rifatti a una canzone popolare in voga ai loro tempi.
Il testo è stato musicato da diversi autori. Il primo in ordine cronologico fu John Wilson (1595 - 1674), il quale nel 1614 succedette a Robert Johnson quale primo compositore dei King’s Men, la compagnia teatrale cui apparteneva Shakespeare. Ascoltiamo il suo lavoro in… versione shake­speariana (ossia limitata alla sola prima strofa) interpretata da Alfred Deller (voce) e Desmond Dupré (liuto); e poi nella versione integrale cantata dal soprano Anna Dennis, accompagnata da Hanneke van Proosdij al clavicembalo, Elisabeth Reed alla viola da gamba e David Tayler all’arciliuto.

The first stanza is featured in Shakespeare’s play Measure for Measure (act 4, scene 1), first represented in 1604; we do not know to what tune it was sung. Both the stanzas feature in the play Rollo Duke of Normandy, or The Bloody Brother, co-written by John Fletcher, Philip Massinger, Ben Jonson and George Chapman and performed at an unspecified date (though not earlier than 1612). It is not known whether the second stanza is an addition by Fletcher or whether both Shakespeare and Fletcher drew on a popular song in vogue in their time.
These verses have been set to music by various composers. The first in chronological order was John Wilson (1595 - 1674), who in 1614 succeeded Robert Johnson as principal composer for the King’s Men, the theater company to which Shakespeare belonged. Let’s listen to his work in… a Shakespearean version (i.e. the first stanza only) performed by Alfred Deller (voice) and Desmond Dupré (lute); and then in the complete version sung by soprano Anna Dennis, accompanied by Hanneke van Proosdij on harpsichord, Elisabeth Reed on viola da gamba and David Tayler on archlute.


John Weldon (1676 - 1736): Take, O take those lips away per voce e continuo (c1707). Emma Kirkby, soprano; Anthony Rooley, liuto.

Robert Lucas de Pearsall (1795 - 1856), Take, O take those lips away per coro a 5 voci a cappella op. 6 (1830). Cantores Musicæ Antiquæ, dir. Jeffery Kite-Powell.

Mrs H. H. A. Beach (Amy Marcy Cheney Beach, 1867 - 1944): Take, O take those lips away per voce e pianoforte, n. 2 dei Three Shakespeare Songs op. 37 (1897). Virginia Mims, soprano.

Peter Warlock (pseudonimo di Philip Heseltine, 1894 - 1930): Take, O take those lips away per voce e pianoforte (1916-17). Benjamin Luxon, baritono; David Willison, pianoforte.

Roger Quilter (1877 - 1953): Take, O take those lips away per voce e pianoforte, n. 4 dei Five Shakespeare Songs op. 23 (1921). Philippe Sly, basso-baritono; Michael McMahon, pianoforte.

Madeleine Dring (1923 - 1977): Take, O take those lips away per voce e pianoforte (c1950). Michael Hancock-Child, tenore; Ro Hancock-Child, pianoforte.

Emma Lou Diemer (1927): Take, O take those lips away, da Three Madrigals per coro e pianoforte (1960). The Colorado Chorale, dir. Frank Eychaner.

Serenata – XI

Pubblicato da Claudio Capriolo2 commenti

Benjamin Britten (22 novembre 1913 - 1976): Serenade per tenore, corno e archi op. 31 (1943). Peter Pears, tenore; Dennis Brain, corno; BBC Symphony Orchestra, direttore John Hollingsworth.

  1. Prologue (assolo del corno)
  2. Pastoral [1:19]

    testo di Charles Cotton (1630-1687): quattro strofe da The Evening Quatrains

    The day’s grown old; the fainting sun
    Has but a little way to run,
    And yet his steeds, with all his skill,
    Scarce lug the chariot down the hill.

    The shadows now so long do grow,
    That brambles like tall cedars show;
    Mole hills seem mountains, and the ant
    Appears a monstrous elephant.

    A very little, little flock
    Shades thrice the ground that it would stock;
    Whilst the small stripling following them
    Appears a mighty Polypheme.

    And now on benches all are sat,
    In the cool air to sit and chat,
    Till Phoebus, dipping in the west,
    Shall lead the world the way to rest.

  3. Nocturne [5:16]

    testo di Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892): Blow, bugle, blow

    The splendour falls on castle walls
    And snowy summits old in story:
    The long light shakes across the lakes,
    And the wild cataract leaps in glory:
      Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,
      Bugle blow; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.

    O hark, O hear! how thin and clear,
    And thinner, clearer, farther going!
    O sweet and far from cliff and scar
    The horns of Elfland faintly blowing!
      Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying:
      Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.

    O love, they die in yon rich sky,
    They faint on hill or field or river:
    Our echoes roll from soul to soul,
    And grow for ever and for ever.
      Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,
      And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying.

  4. Elegy [8:50]

    testo di William Blake (1757-1827): The Sick Rose)

    O Rose, thou art sick!
    The invisible worm,
    That flies in the night
    In the howling storm,
    Has found out thy bed
    Of crimson joy:
    And his dark, secret love
    Does thy life destroy.

  5. Dirge [13:43]

    testo di autore anonimo del secolo XV, noto come Lyke-Wake Dirge

    This ae nighte, this ae nighte,
    Every nighte and alle,
    Fire and fleet and candle‑lighte,
    And Christe receive thy saule.

    When thou from hence away art past,
    Every nighte and alle,
    To Whinny‑muir thou com’st at last;
    And Christe receive thy saule.

    If ever thou gavest hosen and shoon,
    Every nighte and alle,
    Sit thee down and put them on;
    And Christe receive thy saule.

    If hosen and shoon thou ne’er gav’st nane
    Every nighte and alle,
    The whinnes sall prick thee to the bare bane;
    And Christe receive thy saule.

    From Whinny‑muir when thou may’st pass,
    Every nighte and alle,
    To Brig o’ Dread thou com’st at last;
    And Christe receive thy saule.

    From Brig o’ Dread when thou may’st pass,
    Every nighte and alle,
    To Purgatory fire thou com’st at last;
    And Christe receive thy saule.

    If ever thou gavest meat or drink,
    Every nighte and alle,
    The fire sall never make thee shrink;
    And Christe receive thy saule.

    If meat or drink thou ne’er gav’st nane,
    Every nighte and alle,
    The fire will burn thee to the bare bane;
    And Christe receive thy saule.

    This ae nighte, this ae nighte,
    Every nighte and alle,
    Fire and fleet and candle‑lighte,
    And Christe receive thy saule.

  6. Hymn [17:42]

    testo di Ben Jonson (1572-1637): Hymn to Diana (dalla commedia satirica Cynthia’s Revels, or The Fountain of Self-Love, 1600)

    Queen and huntress, chaste and fair,
    Now the sun is laid to sleep,
    Seated in thy silver chair,
    State in wonted manner keep:
    Hesperus entreats thy light,
    Goddess excellently bright.

    Earth, let not thy envious shade
    Dare itself to interpose;
    Cynthia’s shining orb was made
    Heav’n to clear when day did close:
    Bless us then with wishèd sight,
    Goddess excellently bright.

    Lay thy bow of pearl apart,
    And thy crystal shining quiver;
    Give unto the flying hart
    Space to breathe, how short so-ever:
    Thou that mak’st a day of night,
    Goddess excellently bright.

  7. Sonnet [19:42]

    testo di John Keats (1795-1821): To Sleep

    O soft embalmer of the still midnight,
    Shutting, with careful fingers and benign,
    Our gloom‑pleas’d eyes, embower’d from the light,
    Enshaded in forgetfulness divine:

    O soothest Sleep! if so it please thee, close,
    In midst of this thine hymn my willing eyes.
    Or wait the «Amen» ere thy poppy throws
    Around my bed its lulling charities.

    Then save me, or the passèd day will shine
    Upon my pillow, breeding many woes,
    Save me from curious conscience, that still lords

    Its strength for darkness, burrowing like a mole;
    Turn the key deftly in the oilèd wards,
    And seal the hushèd casket of my Soul.

  8. Epilogue (replica del Prologue eseguita dietro le quinte)

 

Six Elizabethan Songs

Pubblicato da Claudio Capriolo1 commento

Dominick Argento (27 ottobre 1927 - 2019): Six Elizabethan Songs (1958). Barbara Bonney, soprano; André Previn, pianoforte.

  1. Spring (Thomas Nashe, 1567-1601: da Summer’s Last Will and Testament, 1592)

    Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year’s pleasant king;
    Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring,
    Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing,
    Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!

    The palm and may make country houses gay,
    Lambs frisk and play, the shepherd pipes all day,
    And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay,
    Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!

    The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet,
    Young lovers meet, old wives a-sunning sit,
    In every street these tunes our ears do greet,
    Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!
    Spring! The sweet Spring!

  2. Sleep (Samuel Daniel, 1562-1619: da Delia, 1592)

    Care-charmer Sleep, son of the sable Night,
    Brother to Death, in silent darkness born,
    Relieve my anguish and restore thy light,
    With dark forgetting of my cares, return;
    And let the day be time enough to mourn
    The shipwreck of my ill-adventur’d youth:
    Let waking eyes suffice to wail their scorn,
    Without the torment of the night’s untruth.
    Cease, dreams, th’ images of day-desires
    To model forth the passions of the morrow;
    Never let rising sun approve you liars,
    To add more grief to aggravate my sorrow.
    Still let me sleep, embracing clouds in vain;
    And never wake to feel the day’s disdain.

  3. Winter (William Shakespeare, 1564-1616: da Love’s Labour’s Lost V/2, 1597)

    When icicles hang by the wall
    And Dick the shepherd blows his nail,
    And Tom bears logs into the hall,
    And milk comes frozen home in pail;
    When blood is nipt and ways be foul,
    Then nightly sings the staring owl:
    Tu-who!
    Tu-whit! Tu-who! — A merry note!
    While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.

    When all aloud the wind doth blow,
    And coughing drowns the parson’s saw,
    And birds sit brooding in the snow,
    And Marian’s nose looks red and raw;
    When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl
    Then nightly sings the staring owl:
    Tu-who!
    Tu-whit! Tu-who! — A merry note!
    While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.

  4. Dirge (Shakespeare: da Twelfth Night II/4, 1602)

    Come away, come away, death,
    And in sad cypress let me be laid;
    Fly away, fly away, breath;
    I am slain by a fair cruel maid.
    My shroud of white, stuck all with yew,
    O prepare it!
    My part of death, no one so true
    Did share it.

    Not a flower, not a flower sweet,
    On my black coffin let there be strown;
    Not a friend, not a friend greet
    My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown:
    [A thousand, thousand sighs to save,]
    Lay me, O where
    Sad true lover never find my grave,
    To weep there!

  5. Diaphenia (Henry Constable, 1562-1613: Damelus’ Song to his Diaphenia, c1600)

    Diaphenia, like the daffadowndilly,
    White as the sun, fair as the lily,
    Heigh ho, how I do love thee!
    I do love thee as my lambs
    Are belovèd of their dams:
    How blest were I if thou would’st prove me.

    Diaphenia, like the spreading roses,
    That in thy sweets all sweets encloses,
    Fair sweet, how I do love thee!
    I do love thee as each flower
    Loves the sun’s life-giving power;
    For dead, thy breath to life might move me.

    Diaphenia, like to all things blessèd,
    When all thy praises are expressèd,
    Dear joy, how I do love thee!
    As the birds do love the spring,
    Or the bees their careful king, —
    Then in requite, sweet virgin, love me!

  6. Hymn (Ben Jonson, 1572-1637: Hymn to Diana)

    Queen and huntress, chaste and fair,
    Now the sun is laid to sleep,
    Seated in thy silver chair,
    State in wonted manner keep:
    Hesperus entreats thy light,
    Goddess excellently bright.

    Earth, let not thy envious shade
    Dare itself to interpose;
    Cynthia’s shining orb was made
    Heav’n to clear when day did close;
    Bless us then with wishèd sight,
    Goddess excellently bright.

    Lay thy bow of pearl apart,
    And thy crystal shining quiver;
    Give unto the flying hart
    Space to breathe, how short so-ever:
    Thou that mak’st a day of night,
    Goddess excellently bright.