On the Sea | 2013
– 5'15"
Baritone voice and piano
In both On the Sea and O Thou Whose Face Hath Felt the Winter's Wind, I approached setting the text in a somewhat unorthodox manner. I attempted to notate the exact pitches and rhythm of myself speaking the poem. I then took this raw musical line and conformed it to relevant time signatures. I used this musical material as a basis for the two pieces, and often used it directly for melodic (and sometimes harmonic) material. Unlike When I Have Fears..., these poems are more abstract.
On the Sea
It keeps eternal whisperings around
Desolate shores, and with its mighty swell
Gluts twice ten thousand caverns, till the spell
Of Hecate leaves them their old shadowy sound.
Often 'tis in such gentle temper found
That scarcely will the very smallest shell
Be moved for days from where it sometime fell,
When last the winds of Heaven were unbound.
O ye who have your eyeballs vext and tir'd,
Feast them upon the wideness of the sea;
O ye whose ears are dinned with uproar rude,
Or fed too much with cloying melody---
Sit ye near some old cavern's mouth and brood
Until ye start, as if the sea nymphs quired.
- John Keats (1817)
Jonathan Wall, baritone; Dr. Devon Howard, piano
Baritone voice and piano
In both On the Sea and O Thou Whose Face Hath Felt the Winter's Wind, I approached setting the text in a somewhat unorthodox manner. I attempted to notate the exact pitches and rhythm of myself speaking the poem. I then took this raw musical line and conformed it to relevant time signatures. I used this musical material as a basis for the two pieces, and often used it directly for melodic (and sometimes harmonic) material. Unlike When I Have Fears..., these poems are more abstract.
On the Sea
It keeps eternal whisperings around
Desolate shores, and with its mighty swell
Gluts twice ten thousand caverns, till the spell
Of Hecate leaves them their old shadowy sound.
Often 'tis in such gentle temper found
That scarcely will the very smallest shell
Be moved for days from where it sometime fell,
When last the winds of Heaven were unbound.
O ye who have your eyeballs vext and tir'd,
Feast them upon the wideness of the sea;
O ye whose ears are dinned with uproar rude,
Or fed too much with cloying melody---
Sit ye near some old cavern's mouth and brood
Until ye start, as if the sea nymphs quired.
- John Keats (1817)
Jonathan Wall, baritone; Dr. Devon Howard, piano
Derrada R. Rubell-Asbell, baritone; Taiko Pelick, piano
