Song of the Week: "The Muse," Op. 29, no. 1 (Medtner)
Song of the Week
The Music
"The Muse" is the first of Medtner's Seven Poems after Pushkin, Opus 29. With motivic connections to the great Sonata-Ballade, Opus 27, and the Piano Quintet in C Major (both compositions which were especially important to the composer) this song stands out among Medtner's vast vocal output, both in its peculiar and mysterious beauty, and the theme of its text. The speaker sings of her awe and delight as the Muse, the "Mystic Maid," takes the reed from her and plays a most wondrous song. The theme of the Muse was one that Medtner had a lifelong interest in, as can be seen from the title of his 1935 book on music The Muse and the Fashion.
The Performance
I was pleasantly surprised to learn that Elizabeth Schwarzkopf collaborated with, or even knew about, Nikolai Medtner. And I was further surprised at my inability to determine what language she was singing - embarrassingly for me, it is English! The translation that she sings, which can be found in the video description, differs somewhat from Drinker's provided below.
The Text
"The Muse" by Alexander Pushkin (1799-1837)
Russian
В младенчестве моём она меня любила
И семиствольную цевницу мне вручила;
Она внимала мне с улыбкой, и слегка
По звонким скважинам пустого тростника
Уже наигрывал я слабыми перстами,
И гимны важные, внушенные богами,
И песни мирныя фригийских пастухов.
С утра до вечера в немой тени дубов
Прилежно я внимал урокам девы тайной;
И радуя меня наградою случайной,
Откинув локоны от милого чела,
Сама из рук моих свирель она брала.
Тростник был оживлен божественным дыханьем
И сердце наполнял святым очарованьем.
English Translation (copyright Henry Drinker)
She loved me as a child,
ah yes, she loved me ever,
and handed me the pipe,
and bade that I endeavor,
with childish lips and eager fingers, if I can,
to play for her the seven-reeded pipe of Pan.
And with a gentle smile she listened to me striving
to play the stately airs from hymns of gods deriving,
and then the peaceful songs the Phrygian shepherds play.
Beneath the oak on many a sunny summer day,
with diligence I strove to profit by her teaching;
and then, at times, the Mystic Maid, at my beseeching,
with toss of golden curls from off her lovely brow,
herself took up the reed and sought to show me how.
And as the tones, with breath divine I heard her capture,
my heart and soul, rejoicing, thrilled with holy rapture.
Comments
Post a Comment