Chansons de la Vigne
1. Ma Bohème
2. Baquet de vin
3. Pitiè de moi
4. La table et les deux verres
5. Chanson de Mariage
SATB and piano
I wrote this piece during a year-long compositional challenge I gave myself to write outside of my first language of English. I love learning as much as possible about different linguistic traditions and, during the time I was writing this piece, I was listening to a lot of French music to kind of wrap my mind around the different combinations of vowels and consonants. Consequently, I also read a lot of nineteenth-century French poetry in translation; specifically, Arthur Rimbaud (1854-1891), Paul Verlaine (1844-1896), Guillaume Apollinaire (1880-1918), and Rainer Maria Rilke (1875-1926). Eventually I grouped together a set of poetry that seemed to be written over a glass of wine and, thus, the title of the piece, Chansons de le Vigne (“Songs from the Vine”).
Rimbaud’s desire to live the Bohemian life is portrayed in the first song as a joyous celebration of a soul discovering what it wants in life. I tried to keep the harmonic language light and the pacing quick in order to introduce the set as a whole. The music is garish and over-the-top as the poet (who wrote nearly all of his life’s work between the ages of 16 and 19) seems to disappear into the night with his newly discovered purpose.
“Baquet de vin” (“Bucket of wine”) is informed by the harmonic language of one of my favorite composers, Francis Poulenc, as the angular leaps and harmonic jolts represent the staggering, back-and-forth walk of a person who may have had a bit too much to drink. That being said, it’s a happy drunken state and the setting ends on a warm and positive sonority.
Given the first line of poetry it seemed absurd to set the third poem without a soloist. Since self-pity is something that builds on and sustains itself to its own negative conclusions, I wrote a choral ostinato that turns over and over again while the soloist slowly sings the bulk of the text.
Then, in order to give the choir some variety (and in a kind of nod to another work in French that I love, Morten Lauridsen’s Les chansons des roses), I decided to use a piano for the final two movements. The first two and a half pages of “La table et les deux verres” (“The table and the two glasses”) bridge the gap between the chord-oriented, a cappella writing from the previous movements and the melodically driven remainder of the set. The text itself speaks to the first meeting of two people who eventually become lifelong friends and the eventual marriage of one of them. For the second half of the poem I wanted to write a running piano part to represent the inevitability of someone marrying their true love.
Chansons de la Vigne (“Songs from the Vine”) was commissioned by Christian Hardy for the Chapman University Singers (Dr. Joseph Modica, conductor) and received its premiere on May 1, 2009.
Note: the first three a cappella movements are available separately via the following links:
Performed by the Chapman University Singers (Dr. Joseph Modica, conductor).
The Texts
By Arthur Rimbaud (1854-1891) and Guillaume Apollinaire (1880-1918)
1. My Bohemian Life
Je m’en allais, les poings dans mes poches crevées;
Mon paletot aussi devenait idéal;
J’allais sous le ciel, Muse!
et j’étais ton féal;
Oh! là là! Que d’amours splendides j’ai rêvées!
Mon unique culotte avait un large trou.
—Petit Poucet rêveur, j’égrenais dans ma course
Des rimes. Mon auberge était à la Grande-Ourse.
—Mes étoiles au ciel avaient un doux frou-frou
Et je les écoutais, assis au bord des routes,
Ces bons soirs de septembre où je sentais
des gouttes
De rosée à mon front, comme un vin de vigueur;
Où rimant au milieu des ombres fantastiques,
Comme des lyres, je tirais les élastiques
De me souliers blessés, un pied près de mon cœur!
I went off, fists in my torn pockets;
My coat was becoming ideal;
I traveled under the sky, Muse!
and I was your companion;
Oh! What splendid loves I dreamed of!
My only pair of trousers had a big hole.
—Tom Thumb daydreaming, I planted some rhymes
along my path. My inn was at the Big Bear.
—My stars rustled softy in the sky.
And I listened to them, sitting on the side of the road,
In these fine September evenings where I felt
some drops
Of dew on my forehead, like a strong wine;
Where, rhyming amidst fantastic shadows,
Like lyres, I plucked the laces
Of my wounded shoes, one foot close to my heart!
2. Bucket of wine
Et s’écrie en versant des larmes
Baquet plein de vin perfume
Viennent aujourd’hui les gendarmes
Nous aurons bu le vin de mai
Laughing and weeping he exclaims
O bucket of perfumed wine
If the police come today
We’ll be so drunk we won’t mind
3. Self-pity
Je n’ai plus même pitié de moi
Et ne puis exprimer mon tourment de silence
Tous les mots que j’avais à dire se sont
changés en étoiles
I have no more pity even for myself
And cannot express my silent torment
All the words I had to say have
changed themselves into stars
4. The table and the two glasses
Nous nous sommes rencontrés dans un caveau maudit
Au temps de notre jeunesse
Fumant tous deux et mal vêtus attendant l’aube
Êpris épris des même paroles dont il faudra changer le sens
Trompés trompés pauvres petits
et ne sachant pas encore rire
La table et les deux verres devinrent
un mourant qui nous jeta le dernier
regard d’Orphée
Réjouissons-nous non parce que notre amitié
a été le fleuve qui nous a fertilizes
Terrains riverains dont l’abondance est
la nourriture
que tous espèrent
We first met in a miserable wine bar
When we were young
Smoking and badly dressed awaiting the dawn
In love in love with meaningless words
Deceived deceived poor little boys
not acquainted with laughter
The table and two glasses became
A dying man who we throw
the last look of Orpheus
We rejoice not because our friendship
was the river that was fertilized
River lands whose abundance is
the nourishment
that all hope for
5. Marriage Song
Ni parce que nos verres nous jettent encore une fois
le regard d’Orphée mourant
Ni parce que nous avons tant grandi
que beaucoup pourraient confondre
nos yeux et les étoiles
Ni parce que les drapeaux claquent aux fenêtre
des citoyens qui sont contents depuis cent ans
d’avoir la vie et de menues choses à defender
Ni parce que fondés en poésie
nous avons des droits
sur les paroles qui forment
et défont l’Univers
Ni parce que nous pouvons pleurer sans ridicule
et que nous savons rire
Ni parce que nous fumons
et buvons comme autrefois
Réjouissons-nous parce que directeur du feu
et des poètes
L’amour qui emplit ainsi que la lumière
Tout le solide espace entre
les étoiles et les planets
L’amour veut qu’aujourdi’hui
mon ami se marie
Nor because our glasses throw us
Orpheus's dying glance one last time
Nor because we have so much height
that many confuse
our eyes with stars
Nor because the flags flap in the window
of the citizens who are happy for 100 years
to have life and tiny things to defend
Nor because rooted in poetry
we have the rights
to the words that form
and batter in the entire universe
Nor because we can cry without ridicule
and that we know how to laugh
Nor because we smoke
and drink as we always have
We rejoice because the director of fire
and poets
The love that fills as the light
All the solid space between
the stars and planets
Love commands today
that my friend will marry