Category Archives: Impact

Translating poetry for song performances

This month sees the start of the 2015 Oxford Lieder festival. I’ve worked with the Oxford Lieder team since 2008, and have enjoyed giving many pre-concert talks on song programmes focused around French song. But this year’s festival is a little different. Called ‘Singing Words: Poets and their Songs’, it approaches the art song form from the perspective of the poet first. The programme includes concerts dedicated to song settings of poems by Eluard, Heine, Rilke, or Verlaine, and many more poets besides. Working with poetry in literary language, however, especially those which use old-fashioned vocabulary and phrasing, and doing all this in a foreign language, must surely be quite alienating for audiences not fully conversant in those languages, or that type of literary language?

One of the ways round this, to help audiences engage better with what is being sung on stage, is to include translations in programme booklets. In fact, just this week, I’ve translated another 7 French poems for Oxford Lieder, all texts selected by Berlioz for songs which will be performed at a lunchtime recital on 24 October 2015. The commissioning turnaround time was quick, so I submitted them to the Oxford Lieder team with the caveat that ‘they’re hardly the most aesthetically beautiful literary translations, but they do capture what’s going on in each of the songs’. It’s perhaps a lazy get-out clause which forestalls any critique of my translation work. But if I’d had more time (or skill), what would I have done instead?

Translating poetry for song performances is not straightforward, and I wanted to share some of these issues here:

Who am I translating for?
In commissioning any translation work, it’s important to factor in who the readers of the translated work will be. Am I translating for teenagers who have never been to a song recital before? Am I translating for a group of well-established concert-goers who know a lot of Berlioz songs already, and have a pretty reasonable French anyhow? The reality with public performances is that you will have a mixture of people with differing levels of competence and experience in listening to foreign-language song (and the work Oxford Lieder and numerous other arts organisations are doing is helping to diversify their audiences). So, who am I translating for?

What is the main aim of the translation?
It is so easy to claim that the main aim of a translation is to ‘capture the essence’ of the original foreign-language text. But what does this mean? As recently-developed theories and methodologies of translation show us, there are decisions to be made which include:

Domestication / Foreignization
How much should you convert the original-language source text into the specific cultural and linguistic reference-points of the translated language (‘domestication’), and how much you keep the points of difference, whether in word order, phrasing, and syntax, or culture-specific terms (‘foreignization’). Clive Scott calls for ‘foreignization’ in his books on translating Baudelaire and Rimbaud, maintaining that poetry in some way necessitates that feel of ‘otherness’ as a different way of using language. This means that you ‘feel’ that the text is translated, and the translator can often deploy his/her creativity more extensively (maintaining what Lawrence Venuti calls the translator’s ‘visibility’). Other poetry translators seek to fully ‘domesticate’ a foreign poem by adapting it into an English-language form, using English verse metre and developing a rhyme scheme based on English sounds.

Formal or Dynamic Equivalence
Adapting a poem into the verse forms of a translated language is also a type of ‘formal equivalence’ as set out by Eugene Nida, in that it sees both the meaning of the poem and the format of the text as jointly important. ‘Dynamic equivalence’ would transmit just the effect of the message (perhaps this notion of somehow ‘capturing the essence’ of a text) without maintaining its form. This perhaps best describes what I have done with my quick Berlioz translations for Oxford Lieder: I have not created a new poetic work using English verse techniques, but I have sought to maintain the effect (‘capture the essence’). But I have also sought to maintain a more-or-less word-for-word translation so that the audience can follow in roughly ‘real time’ what is being sung which retains in some way the ‘formal equivalence’. What I have done is perhaps the most common approach to translating poem texts for song recitals, but it is not necessarily the most suitable, particularly for contemporary audiences.

Singable translations
An approach which has largely fallen out of fashion is the ‘singable translation’, which keeps the rhythm of the vocal part intact but which struggles to maintain word-for-word equivalence. There are positives and negatives to a singable translation, both for the performer and for the audience, depending on what is being conveyed through the song. Do we miss the sounds of the original language? Are sung words always fully audible? Does the sung translation ‘sanitize’ the original? Perhaps perplexingly, singable translations are common in opera (such as all the works performed at the English National Opera), but less so on the song recital circuit.

Where can I find out more?
A small team of song translation researchers and practicitioners will explore this question of how to translate poems for song performances at a Song in Translation Study Event on 25 October 2015. Laura Tunbridge, Philip Bullock, Richard Stokes and I will probe issues to do with about the integrity of the poem or its song setting, political agendas and censorhip, and how national and cultural identities come into play too. To find out more, book your place at the Okinaga Room, Wadham College, starting at 2pm!


Languages, art song, and the supposed “elitist barrier”: “You might not like this much, but it will be good for you”…

A few weeks ago, I was reading a Yorkshire Life article about Leeds Lieder founder and former Opera North soprano Jane Anthony. It was a preview of the 2013 Leeds Lieder festival, whose artistic director this year was Graham Johnson (whose work I use a lot for my research). Something struck me in the article, however. The journalist talks about the perceived “elitist barrier” of listening to (art) song in a foreign language. Jane Anthony rightly says that it is “all wrong” to think that singing in a foreign language has an “elitist tag”, and this struck a chord with me. I’ve been starting to think more and more about this outmoded view of languages and art song being supposedly difficult and off-putting, and about what is being done to change perceptions.

In my 2012 book Parisian Intersections, I talk about the supposed “difficulty” of art song. In my conclusion, I write:

“Perceptions of art song on today’s recital stage frequently consider it to be a specialist, niche genre only accessible by an elite audience of cognoscenti. Music critic Adam Sweeting, for example, has recently written that art song is ‘a term that often seems to mean “you might not like this much, but it will be good for you”’.[1] Tellingly, Sweeting makes this comment in an interview with mezzo-soprano Anne-Sofie von Otter following the release of a CD recording which sees her performing both classical art song and more contemporary popular song. Breaking down the perceived boundary between art song and popular song opens up new ways of understanding the function of song and how poetry and music interact across genre boundaries, but it requires careful negotiation of those boundaries.”

Anne-Sofie von Otter’s drive to include contemporary popular song in her repertoire is revealing of a classical music industry which is trying to engage new audiences. For me, as my research takes me increasingly across the boundaries of “classical” vs. “popular” song, I’m finding new ways of interacting with both (new) performers and (new) audiences about singing and listening to challenging music in a foreign language, often using more “accessible” versions of the same poetic text set to a more popular melody. We can find numerous examples of recordings which use the same text in a recital programme, but as a framing device. I’m thinking, for example, of John Mark Ainsley’s L’Invitation au voyage recording with Graham Johnson on the Hyperion label. It uses four different versions of the same Baudelaire poem (‘L’Invitation au voyage’) as tracks 1, 11, 17 and 24 of a 24-track CD of French mélodie from the Belle époque. Only one of the settings is famous – the last track with Henri Duparc’s gloriously lush version of the poem. The others – by Jules Cressonnois (the only song setting of Baudelaire that we know for certain to have been written and published during Baudelaire’s lifetime), by Benjamin Godard, and by the Hillemacher brothers. I’ve published a chapter about these different L’Invitation au voyage settings in a book called Words & Notes in the Long Nineteenth Century (published by Boydell & Brewer in 2013, edited by Phyllis Weliver and Katharine Ellis). In it, I examine how the more lighthearted, earlier song settings interact both with Baudelaire’s poem and with the later versions, including Duparc’s more highbrow “art song” setting. But I also use this poem as a key example in my undergraduate teaching at the University of Sheffield, where I ask students to go and listen to contemporary pop song versions of the poem, moving back through the 1960s and 70s chansonnier versions, through then to the nineteenth-century settings. It allows students who have had little or no contact with classical music to find a way through to it, often via versions that they thought they would like more but end up finding less satisfying once they’ve encountered the Duparc setting. Having access to many different versions of an important Baudelaire poem set to music in so many different ways is quite a rare scenario, however, and it certainly isn’t the only way to open up art song to new audiences (whether undergraduate students or otherwise).

Placing different versions alongside each other of the same poem set to music isn’t the only way of breaking down the “elitist barrier”, however, and in fact, programming experience tells me that audiences often find it boring to sit and listen to different versions of the same text, especially if they are simply paired alongside each other (I’m indebted to Sholto Kynoch for his invaluable programming advice over the years!). Another way to tackle the “elitist tag” is to develop training for professional singers, so that their own mode of access to poetry in a foreign language is enhanced through a whole range of skills which will enable them to engage more openly with their audiences. I’ve been working closely with the creative team at Pro North Voices on a new project which draws together early-career professional singers based in the north to focus on challenging repertoire in a foreign language. The first programme centers around the French language, and includes settings of Eluard poems by Poulenc, for example. The whole process that we are going through – collectively – is to work from day one on the text and the music together as part of the creative development of the programme, so that we’re not just focusing on the poet’s voice, nor on just the composer’s voice, nor indeed on just the singer’s voice, but on all three of these elements together, examining what needs to take priority, how we can overcome technical challenges, and how we can arrive at an interpretative consensus as a vocal ensemble. This offers a much deeper level of engagement with the foreign language than is often possible within the time constraints and pressures of a singer’s career. It’s not just a question of producing the right sounds (diction) – though of course the notion of “right” in the context of different accents is quite another issue – but also a question of producing something that sounds French, both in terms of its technical elements and its emotive and interpretative facets. With our first performance coming up on 16 February 2014 at Firth Hall, University of Sheffield, we’re getting stuck into the work already (I’m preparing audio recordings of the French texts for singers to use as a guide as they prepare the music, text, and their voices in advance of the rehearsal period). Integral to the whole process is also how we engage with the audience, and so we’re also working alongside specialists in stagecraft – those who have had long, successful careers on the international opera house circuit, for example – to offer our singers and our audiences a fresh way of interacting with music in a language that is supposedly so foreign that it tips over into being only accessible to the happy few. Instead, we’re looking forward to embracing a different way of working together, with all of us coming from quite different backgrounds, to produce something that is refreshingly open to all.

A final word should be reserved for translation. In the Yorkshire Life article, it states how at Leeds Lieder “translations are provided so the audience know what’s being sung and to further break down the elitist barrier.” But my experiences of performing art song, and of being an audience member for art song concerts, in fact makes me think that translations can be more, not less, of a barrier. This is because as an audience member there is so much text to absorb if you don’t speak the language that is being sung that you risk spending most of the recital with your head buried in the programme booklet which, in turn, is disheartening for a performer who sees barely one face looking up at him/her. Reading the programme with texts and translations, you try on the one hand to observe roughly where the singer is by listening to the sounds you’re hearing, and then you try to cross-check that with the translation on the page. So often translations used in programme booklets are not the best translations – either because they are too literal, word-for-word (typically something more useful for a singer in the preparation phase of a song), or because they are too poetic, transposed into an English poetic form, and so quite far in mood and tone from the original language poem. Some professional translators do an amazing job at striking the right balance (Richard Stokes’ translations are regularly used, for example, by the Oxford Lieder Festival). But what is interesting is that the translator is rarely acknowledged (this is, indeed, an issue frequently addressed in the field of translation studies[2]), often perhaps because programmers have simply found a translation on the internet (the REC Music Foundation website is an invaluable user-contributor wiki-style resource we all use). The time has come to start looking at different ways of allowing audiences access to a “translation” of the foreign text that is being sung. One way in which I do this with my French song recitals is to have people read out the poem in French before I sing them. I’ve seen this on the recital stage with the singer doing this themselves before performing the song (for example, by the French soprano Magali Arnault Stanczak sometimes does this), or I’ve instigated it myself (for example, by getting my final year students of French at the University of Sheffield to read the poem out loud before I perform it). What this does is enable the audience to have a first listen to the poem, and read the translation before hearing the song setting. But it can break the ‘magic’ of the concert atmosphere, especially if the spoken text interrupts a song cycle, for example. Another way is to use “plot summaries” rather than full translations, or project surtitles. I’m researching using these techniques in performances planned for 2014, garnering examples from other ensembles and recitals that I’ve encountered to date. And crucially, rather than looking for a ready-made translation, I am working with my students for performances in Feburary 2014 to produce a range of possible translations of texts by Gautier (for Berlioz’s Nuits d’été) and Baudelaire (for Vierne’s Cinq poèmes de Baudelaire) which can be made available online in advance of a recital planned for 24 Feburary 2014 (again at Firth Hall, University of Sheffield).

So, like Jane Anthony, I also think that “getting the message across that art song is for all can be frustrating and difficult”, but I’m actively engaging with different ways of addressing this challenge. Where Leeds Lieder, Oxford Lieder, and many of the professional opera houses have been addressing the “elitist barrier” through education and outreach projects, I’m doing it from the perspective of a researcher, academic, and lecturer, who works closely with undergraduate and postgraduate students, and with early-career professional singers. Let’s hope that through this range of approaches, we’ll manage to achieve our goal of making such wonderful music more widely available to all.

[1] Adam Sweeting, interview with mezzo-soprano Anne Sophie von Otter, Daily Telegraph, 21 October 2010, <> [accessed 21 October 2010].

[2] See, for example, Lawrence Venuti’s field-defining work The Translator’s Invisibility: A History of Translation (1995)

Coaching singers

Over the past few months, I’ve had the opportunity to do French language coaching work with pro and amateur singers (including Sophie Bevan, David Webb and James Bingham). It’s made me think more about the kind of training singers get for performing in other languages. Many complain of insufficient language coaching at music colleges – either because the sessions are too short & infrequent, or because they just focus on the sounds and rarely on how pronunciation decisions affect interpretation.

Increasingly, as I work with singers now, I focus just as much on possible ways of reading the poem as I do on techniques of pronouncing French when sung. Key issues include:

1) what to do with a mute ‘e’ (how much weight to give it, voiced or unvoiced). Different composers have different ways if notating mute ‘e’s in French, and some deliberately vary notation depending on how much they want it to be sounded (Michel Gribenski’s exhaustive research into each of Debussy’s different modes of notating the mute ‘e’, as published in Cahiers Debussy, shows quite how much thought needs to go into this). Working recently on Britten’s Illuminations settings of Rimbaud has been interesting here too, observing what a non-native French speaker opts to do with the mute ‘e’ & the challenges this throws up, especially in the context of prose poetry. Should it be “Ce sont des vill-es”, with equally weighted syllables for “vill-” and “-es”, or should the mute ‘e’ be tucked in with the ‘l’ consonant? Interestingly, Britten notates it differently on different appearances of the word… I’ve been advising singers to exploit the context of the word to help them make their decision, as well as suggesting they think about how it will sound in performance – a lack of clear ‘l’, without a strong mute ‘e’ would turn it into a different word “vie” vs. “ville”, eg. It’s an interpretative and technical decision.

2) what to do with ‘s’ at end of a word (whether to elide or not, whether it is silent or not, what this might do to a rhyme). This is not just a right/wrong technical issue, although some words confusingly require an ‘s’ where others don’t (“lys” vs. “lis”, eg). Sometimes the decision comes down to a technical decision on phrasing- do you need the ‘s’ to help you launch into the next word / phrase, or do you need to take a breath? Each time I work with singers, we try out different options to see what works best in performance.

3) what to do with words that start with ‘h’ (whether or not to elide). Unless you are a native French speaker, this is one of the trickiest ones to get right- “un hiboux” is aspirated (not elided) whereas “une haleine” is. The issue in sung performance is that the aspirated ‘h’ creates a hiatus which stops the sound, and can make it difficult for singers to get the words out technically. This issue is far less of an interpretative decision than the mute ‘e’ or final ‘s’ but I still spend time with singers looking at this so that they are aware of what to look out for.

4) distinguishing vowel sounds, particularly nasal sounds. This is one if the hardest issues for non-native speakers, and is even more marked in sung performance. I often work with singers to get them to understand the clear difference between ‘e’, ‘è’, and ‘é’ in particular, but one of the areas I spend the most time working in is the changing brightness between ‘-an’, ‘-en’, and ‘-on’, such as in words like “dans”, “enfant”, “mensonge”, “mon”. Typically I ask singers to over-exaggerate the distinction on rehearsal to work on the clarity when it is worked up into full performance, making sure that words don’t inadvertently change their meaning via an imprecise vowel sound. Lots of singers I’ve worked with use IPA to help them here; I prefer to pick out common French words that they frequently come across in singing and to focus on getting these clear. One of my techniques for not losing a vowel sound is often to suggest “missing out” the pronunciation of an ‘n’ or ‘m’ which signal a more nasal sound, especially in a singer’s higher register, as the consonant can often distort the vowel sound (I often use the first line of Verlaine’s “C’est l’extase langoureuse” to illustrate this to singers).

What I’ve been discovering the more I work with singers on these issues is how spending time discussing the character of a piece can transform the way a singer will need to / choose to pronounce a particular word. If we start thinking of Britten’s Rimbaud settings in Illuminations as depicting clowns, pantomime kings & queens, drag artists, or circus ringmasters it changes our attitude to the text – singers tend to be less reverential, and can take more (justified, considered) liberties in pronunciation. This fits with the nature if Britten’s music in this instance, but it isn’t, of course, the only way of reading or performing those texts or settings (informing my reading of Rimbaud’s Illuminations via research into pictorial translations by Clive Scott has helped me advise singers too).

One of the things I love about coaching singers is that I can help them free up their performances by building confidence with their interpretations of the poetic texts, often providing them with other examples of poems by the same poet which have not been set to music (& so something singers are less likely to know), or offering different translations to read (more creative, less word-for-word translations) in order to help them legitimise their approach. I always so look forward to coaching different singers as I, too, learn so much about the poems and the music as we go along (especially if we’re able to work with an accompanist too).

And something that helps me with this French language coaching work is when I work the songs up myself to sing. I don’t always manage to do this, but I find it makes a huge difference (& watch this space for an exciting open masterclass with me & Sophie Bevan working on Les Nuits d’été later in the year…). I also benefit from being on the receiving end of language coaching when I find myself being asked to perform in a language that is not one of the ones I speak (most recently being coached by my colleague Ludek Knittl on Czech for a performance of Janacek’s Diary of one who disappeared with Stewart Campbell and Jonathan Gooing on 28 June as part of the A Boy Was Born Britten festival). It helps me to consider how at a loss some singers can feel when dealing with a text that is so foreign – not just because of its language, but also because of its context and how this can colour different possible meanings and interpretations.

I’d love to hear thoughts, reactions, experiences from others about experiences of language coaching for singers, either in the comments section or via Twitter @HelenAbbott1 #languagecoaching

Baudelaire and Rimbaud in the City

It’s been a busy month or so of poetry/music events here in Sheffield. On 12 April 2013, we held our first poetry reading (in French and English) at the wonderful Nichols Building Cafe in Shalesmoor, attracting members of the public, students and colleagues from the departments of English and French. This first “Baudelaire in the City” evening was then followed up by two “Rimbaud in the City” evenings, promoted by the University of Sheffield’s French Department in conjunction with Arts Enterprise.

Reading Rimbaud in the city
The first Rimbaud event, on 17 May 2013, was another poetry reading in both French and English, using translations by acclaimed French poetry translator and translation theorist Clive Scott (Emeritus Professor, UEA) and by experimental Canadian poet Christian Bök. The reading was again attended by members of the public – some of whom had never read any Rimbaud before, others who had themselves attempted translations of Rimbaud, and others who came because they were interested in architecture and the city and how poets are influenced by this – as well as students and staff from the University of Sheffield. The collegiate, friendly atmosphere made for a rich and vibrant evening (the Nichols Building Cafe also supplied some delicious cakes to accompany!).

Poetry reading event: Rimbaud in the City (Nichols Building, Shalesmoor 17/05/2013)

Poetry reading event: Rimbaud in the City (Nichols Building, Shalesmoor 17/05/2013)

Performing Rimbaud in the city
The second Rimbaud event, on 18 May 2013, was a performance of a selection of Rimbaud’s Illuminations prose poems in the orchestral song setting by Benjamin Britten. I delivered a pre-concert talk exploring Britten’s “Frenchness”, and how extraordinary it is to see a 20th-century British composer select French prose poems, especially these fantastical, fragmentary texts by Rimbaud, to set to music. The richness of Britten’s setting sings out in performance (given on this instance by tenor David Webb and Sheffield Chamber Orchestra). For each of the 9 movements, Britten chooses a different mood and musical texture, changing from ethereal harmonics to drunken waltzes, and from marches to pizzicato strumming. With over 200 people in attendance, from all age groups, this was a chance to explore how Rimbaud’s texts resonate in a different context. The historical and geographical trajectory is revealing: from Rimbaud drafting the poems in Paris, Brussels and London in the early 1870s, to Britten setting them to music whilst in Suffolk, London and New York between 1939-1940, to a modern-day performance in Sheffield 2013.

Les Illuminations (Britten/Rimbaud) David Webb (tenor) with Sheffield Chamber Orchestra (18/05/2013)

Les Illuminations (Britten/Rimbaud)
David Webb (tenor) with Sheffield Chamber Orchestra (18/05/2013)



Gaspard de la Nuit programme airs on ABC (Australia)

The programme I was interviewed for on Ravel’s Gaspard de la Nuit airs on Australia’s ABC radio on 6 April 2013 (with repeats, and online catchup available). Tune in here: to what promises to be a lively discussion about this most fiendish piece of piano music, based on an extraordinary – almost visionary – prose poetic text by the relatively unknown Aloysius Bertrand. I’d love to hear your thoughts and comments below.

A Boy Was Born – but what a child…

The University of Sheffield is presenting one of the largest festivals of the work of Benjamin Britten during his anniversary year of 2013, A Boy Was Born. Tonight’s event, a rush hour talk and concert, was centered on Britten’s Canticle II (Abraham and Isaac), performed beautifully by Sam Penkett, Stewart Campbell and Jonathan Gooing, and introduced by Prof. Hugh Pyper, from the University’s Biblical Studies Department.

Pyper set the scene for the performance by examining the role of the paternal in Britten’s work, focusing on the troubling line ‘Father, do with me as you will’. The Abraham and Isaac story from the Hebrew Bible – as refigured in a Chester Mystery Play, from which Britten draws his libretto – signals the emblematic troubling ethical implications which Kant, Auerbach, and others have explored at length. The sacrificial demand, and Abraham and Isaac’s seeming willingness to go through with it out of duty and obedience, signals the ‘agonic’ nature of the Father-Son relationship[1] which implicates both the Freudian Oedipus complex (the son desiring to kill his father) and the Laius complex (the father desiring to kill his son). These patricidal and filicidal inclinations reveal the father and son as a threat to each other, and Pyper explored other troubled paternal figures in Britten’s operatic works, and the loss of innocence and troubling sexual undertones implied by these works. Yet rather than dwelling on Britten’s much talked-about biography, referring to those who search for how his sexuality figures in his works, Pyper instead diverted our attention to something far more interesting, and aesthetically challenging: He suggested that the paternal in Britten needs to be explored in relation to his heirs – his musical works.

This idea immediately sparked resonances for me with two of the French poets I work on.

Mallarmé’s extraordinary poem ‘Don du poème’ paints a painful scene of a poet presenting the gift of a ‘newborn’ to his wife, a poetic child that, on the one hand, he fears may be stillborn, whilst on the other, he sees as a threat. The haunting line ‘ce père essayant un sourire ennemi’ signals the ‘agonic’ nature of the paternal relationship with the poet’s offspring. It is the poet who gives birth, diverting the life-giving role from a mother onto a father, but the father is wary of what he has given birth to. Like Pyper’s suggestion of reading Britten’s works away from his biography, this too is different from reading Mallarmé’s poem for its biographical references (Mallarmé suffered the tragedy of losing his son Anatole at the age of eight), and instead turns the focus to the poet’s heirs and his relationship with them. In ‘Don du poème’, the Oedpial threat is there, as the father perceives his progeny as an ennemy (the work takes over), but the Laius myth threat is also there, as the poet expresses violent disgust at the ‘horrible naissance’ (the poet looks to get rid of his work).

The threatening violence of the Father-Son relationship is like the troubling relationship between the composer and his work, between the poet and his work. Neither father figure can predict how the relationship with his offspring will pan out. And this, finally, brings me to revisit some recent work on what I’ve termed Baudelaire’s legacy to composers. Baudelaire has no human heirs, but his poetic offspring have generated a wealth of revisionings, adaptations, and readings by audiences and artists across the world, throughout the centuries since their birth. Baudelaire’s fear about his poetic legacy is latent, however, in a way that strikes a potent chord with Britten’s Canticle II.

[1] This picks up on Lawrence Kramer’s analysis of word-music themselves relations as ‘agonic’ in Music and Poetry: The Nineteenth Century and After (Berkley: University of California Press, 1984), p.129.

BBC Radio 4 Songs for Madame Vasnier

On Tuesday 10 January 2012 I’ll be speaking on the BBC Radio 4 programme on Debussy’s early songs, ‘Songs for Madame Vasnier‘. I recorded my segments from BBC Cymru Bangor studios in November, being interviewed by Richard Langham Smith who was in studios in Cardiff. It promises to be a very engaging and rich programme.

Registering responses…

Yesterday I had the chance to share some of my very recent research with final year undergraduate students. They are studying my ‘Exchanging Voices’ module, and we were looking at the issue of how register affects audience / reader responses. Alongside examples of texts by Apollinaire (‘Avant le cinéma’) and Molière (excerpt from Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme), I was able to show them the change in register between Baudelaire’s ‘La Mort des amants’ and the parodied version of the sonnet by Valade and Verlaine (as ‘La Mort des cochons’). What’s more, because I now have song scores and recordings of the Villiers setting of ‘La Mort des amants’ (thanks to my AHRC-funded research leave January-September this year), I was also able to let them listen to the recordings of Mary Bevan and Sholto Kynoch performing both the ‘straight’ (high register, elegant) version and the parodied (low register, vulgar) version. The students’ responses were telling – they were absorbed and drawn in by the intense, sensual elegance of the Baudelaire/Villiers song setting, and perplexed, almost repulsed by the Valade/Verlaine/Villiers parodied version. It certainly helped convey the point I was making in my lecture about how register affects (vocal) exchanges and (audience) responses.  I’m looking forward to hearing what colleagues and experts in the fields of nineteenth-century poetry and music have to say about this material when my Parsian Intersections: Baudelaire’s Legacy to Composers  book comes out next year…

From highbrow to lowbrow – Lieder to cabaret songs in Bangor

Yesterday evening’s recital in Powis Hall at Bangor University was a huge success – soprano Raphaela Papadakis and pianist Sholto Kynoch performed a fabulous range of songs, from Schubert Lieder, to Schoenberg cabaret songs, via some Poulenc mélodies and Satie chansons. The programme gave us lots to think about too: how do composers create different kinds of song? how should performers approach the different genres and languages? how do audiences react to the different types of song? I gave a pre-concert talk flagging up some of these issues, which set us up for a programme of poignant Lieder, escapist mélodies and coquettish chansons in both French and German. Huge thanks to everyone who made the event possible (including, of course, the AHRC).

Powis Hall, Bangor University, during my pre-concert talk








Explaining the finer points about song








Raphaela Papadakis presents Poulenc’s ‘Banalités’








Sholto Kynoch & Raphaela Papadakis post-concert