A New Choral Work by Moeran

MR. MOERAN'S 'Songs of Springtime,'* produced a few years ago showed so marked an aptitude in handling the medium and capturing the spirit of Elizabethan lyrics that a further venture in the same field seemed inevitable. Here it is - a work on a larger scale: nine numbers instead of seven. For poems Mr. Moeran has drawn on Nicholas Breton (two), Anthony Munday, Lancelot Andrewes, Sir Philip Sidney, Herrick, and Anon. (three), practically all representing the latter half of the sixteenth and the first half of the seventeenth centuries.

'Phyllida and Corydon' is not a collection of part-songs, but a Suite conceived with a view to complete performance. In this respect it differs from 'Songs of Springtime,' which, being connected only by their common concern with spring, were for practical purposes separable because the performance of a group of seven songs about spring might lack the element of contrast. But 'Phyllida and Corydon' is about persons and feelings, and so achieves both unity and diversity. The Suite is, in effect, a Pastoral in several scenes, representing more or less definitely events concerning Phyllida and Corydon. Here are the titles (I add in brackets some indications of the ' programme ' kindly given me by the composer) :

(1) ' In the merry month of May' (the crowning of Phyllida as Queen of the May);
(2) 'Beauty sat bathing by a spring' (scene in the drowsy heat of the afternoon) ;
(3) ' On a hill there grows a flower ' (reappearance of Corydon) ;
(4) Phyllis inamorata: 'Come, be my valentine ' (Corydon's wooing is successful) ;
(5) ' Said I that Amaryllis' (a ballet in which Corydon protests his love for Phyllida alone:

'Said I that Amaryllis
Was fairer than is Phyllis ?
Upon my death I take it,
Sweet Phyll, I never spake it.')

Nos. 6 and 7 belong to the serenade or nocturne family (the term used by the poets of the period, 'Nightpiece,' is best-e.g., Ben Jonson's ' Nightpiece to Julia');

(6) ' Lock up, fair lids, the treasure of my heart';
(7) 'Weep you no more, sad fountains';
(8) ' Corydon, arise, my Corydon.' (Morning: Phyllida calls Corydon, and the dialogue between them culminates in a dance);
(9) ' Ye have been fresh and green ' (Epilogue, in which Herrick's poem, ' To meadows,' contrasts the former scenes of life and gaiety with the loneliness of autumn).

The movements are diversified in mood, key and form, thus: Madrigal, Allegro con brio, F major; Madrigal, Andante, F minor; Pastoral, Andante sostenuto, G sharp minor; Air, Con brio, E major; Ballet, Presto, G major; Canzonet, Andante con moto, G major; Air, Lento, A minor; Pastoral, Allegro moderato, F major; Madrigal, Andante ma poco rubato, G minor. The key sequence is so designed that singers should be able to pass from number to number without a helping chord.

The length of performance is just under thirty minutes.

A composer setting Elizabethan texts usually chooses one of two methods : he either writes in the idiom of the period, or adopts that of his own time. The former is apt to suggest a pose, though at its best it may lead to successful results - e.g., the pick of Pearsall and Walmisley. The second is successful in the hands of composers who have the English choral idiom in their bones and whose own style is diatonic. Thus both Parry and Stanford - especially the latter - were admirable in this field, although there is very little that suggests conscious imitation of the past. This self-denying ordinance was specially notable in the case of Stanford, who shared with Saint-Saens the dangerous gift of being able to put on as a garment the style and idiom of almost any period or person. There is, however, a third way-a compromise which unites past and present. A free use of the idioms (harmonic, polyphonic, and rhythmic) of the Elizabethans provides a ' period' background and reflects the general style of the poems; the use of modern chromaticism for emotionally expressive moments throws them into sharp relief and also provides the necessary element of contrast. This is the method adopted by Mr. Moeran.

Let us look at one or two examples of free use of traditional matter and manner. No. 5 (' Said I that Amaryllis ') is a ballet, and therefore includes much fa la-ing. The two opening phrases are rhythmically the same as those of Morley's 'Now is the month of maying,' and they are followed at once by fa la's ; but the fourth line of the verse is made to overlap the fa la's-a plan that avoids the square and sectional method of the old ballet:

The fa la refrains, though diatonic, are freshened by occasional touches of dissonance. The buoyancy of these portions is shown by a brief extract:

The overlapping of verse and refrain occurs again later, the fa la brusquely interrupting, ff, the end of a languishing tenor phrase, ' More love and beauty pang me.'

A further use of fa la occurs in No. 3 ('On a hill there grows a flower'), the first verse being a soprano solo, with a gently swinging A.T.B. fa la accompaniment. But perhaps the most striking vocal accompaniment is that of No. 8 ('Corydon, arise'). The poem is a dialogue between Phyllida and Corydon, given to soprano and tenor, the alto and bass providing an accompaniment of 'la la' save for a brief 'lips closed' passage. As a result of the dialogue much of the writing is in three parts, alternating between S.A.B. and A.T.B. Further variety is obtained by giving the second half of the piece to full chorus, with a good deal of two-part antiphony. Here is a quotation showing a couple of phrases of the dialogue:

There is an exhilarating two-page section midway with la-ing in varying degrees of power and 'touch' culminating thus:

Even more original, perhaps, is the treatment of 'Hey nonny nonny' in No. 2 ('Beauty sat bathing by a spring'). The refrain of the second verse is quoted on p. 426 (Ex. 5):

One more aspect of the composer's livening touch on traditional methods and material may be mentioned. Nobody can be familiar with the English polyphonists without observing that much of their finest music is based on imitative treatment of themes that are, per se, of little account. Why did these men of undoubted genius apparently give so little thought to thematic invention ? The obvious and generally accepted answer is that the day for this side of composition was not yet-a theory that is not supported by their fund of melody when writing ayres and other music for solo voices. Is not the explanation to be found rather in the fact that, their treatment of a poem being on point-to-point lines, a succession of striking themes would produce an effect of scrappiness? Conventional subject-matter, on the other hand, would not interfere with the unity obtained by its polyphonic treatment. Mr. Moeran seems to have worked on this principle. The freshness and originality of his imitative writing is not in the 'points,' but in what they evoke.

A word on the use of modern harmony in this type of choral work may not be out of place. Those who object to it do so on the ground that it is an anachronism and out of the picture: in short, it doesn't fit. This argument overlooks the fact that the early polyphonists themselves used for 'high light' purposes chromatic harmony so daring that much of it still taxes singers. A modern composer who mixes diatonic and 'period' idiom with modern harmony is following the best of precedents, the only difference being in the wider and more vivid contrast between the diatonic and chromatic-a contrast that is entirely in keeping with the needs and general practice of today. The only tests that chromatic vocal harmony must pass are its suitability to the words and its singableness. Mr. Moeran's expressive and poignant harmony does not lend itself to quotation, because its effect depends on its relation to the context.

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At the beginning of this article reference was made to the ease and effect of Mr. Moeran's choral writing. Its excellencies are of the kind that are the more notable because the composer has hitherto been known almost entirely as a composer of orchestral and chamber music. Here the discipline of four-part a cappella writing (it is worth noting that there is no division of the parts) does not hinder him from showing the freedom and vitality that mark his instrumental works plus the characteristics of the English polyphonists. The impression this Suite gives of deriving from that great school was evidently at the back of Mr. Ernest Newman's mind when, after hearing a broadcast of 'Songs of Springtime,' he referred to their imaginative quality and 'exquisite craftsmanship,' adding:

'If these things had been broadcast under the names of Marenzio, Morley, and any five other composers of the madrigalian epoch, the general verdict would probably have been that these ancient gentlemen were writing at the top of their form, if not, indeed, a bit above it!'

An exhaustive study of 'Phyllida and Corydon' leaves one convinced that Mr. Newman's eulogy fits the new work as well as its predecessor.

H. G.

*'Songs of Springtime,' Seven Elizabethan Poems, Novello