No, the question of word / music won´t go away. Or , more specifically, what text(s) should a composer set. Why ?
A young composer writes Lieder; the text leads, supports, offers form and shape and melodic thrust. Or she goes for choral settings. Ditto.
My ” MEDIEVAL IRISH LYRICS” for the then R.T.E.Singers was a success. ( It went also to Paris to the International Rostrum of Composers ; a little kudos encourages ) Also “HERR JESU CHRIST” for Choir. My very Opus one, ” DÁN AIMHIRGÍN” , used a mythic, Early Irish text. The distance I needed was there.
The problem is there when I come close to a contemporary poet´s words; no distance, mythic or temporal – or linguistic. ( “TWO MEDITATIONS” for Speaker and Orchestra offered its own solution to my using John Barth´s short texts through the very medium of a male speaking voice against orchestral instruments, also the one pitted against the mighty forces… And here , too, a little Paris kudos. With ” 5 LIRIC DE CHUID GHABRIEL ROSENSTOCK” for Soprano and Piano Trio ( Berlin 1979 ) only my naked expressionistic melos could erect the for me necessary distancing. Other examples of this composer´s shyness before and, well, respect for a contemporary poet´s preformed material abound. eg. Seamus Heaney´s ” MAD SWEENEY” ( Boston Musica Viva 2006 ) “saves” my sought distance through its Speaker pitted against Chamber Orchestra. et cetera.
Now I have come to the stage where I will use my own texts , if necessary. The 2009 ” EIGHT HAIKUS” for SS AA TT BB Choir was a successful distancing – my own composed haikus ( the texts are somewhere here below in a past log or blog ) gave the composer – me- an enormous palette of syllabic colours and spat building-blocks and merry melismata etc.
Today, it´s back to my initial problem of forty plus odd years ago ; I am composing “SIX LIEDER ” for Tenor and Piano.
This time, I squirm. How achieve , once again, distance ? Well, again I´ll write my own lied-texts; that haiku-form will offer the scaffolding. Thus:
FIVE HAIKUS AND A SCATTER by Frank Corcoran:
Five dogs or seven
Snarl in the cool evening air
Barking: ” Kill the Spring! ”
Who goes here ? – Summer !
My pen writes on white paper:
“Clarinets! Soft horns!”
Bits of sticky sleep.
My eye tries to see itself.
Morning birds chitter.
Suppose God is light ?
A mountain´s shadow purple ?
-Ciúnas, a h-anaim…
Whisper ” The sunset….”
It tiptoes through the window.
Well is this, then, death?
Five dogs or seven / Barking ” Kill our Spring!” / Eyes trying to see themselves / Whisper ” sun-set” !