Baroque composer G.F. Handel (1685-1759) is primarily known for his opera and oratorio works. He completed the oratorio Samson in collaboration with librettist Newburgh Hamilton in 1742 while in London; the text was adapted from Milton’s tragedy Samson Agonistes, about the biblical warrior Samson. In Act III, the Israelite Woman sings “Let the Bright Seraphim” in praise and thanksgiving after Samson sacrifices himself to destroy the Philistines during their celebration of the god Dagon.

“Let the Bright Seraphim” from Samson
Text by Newburgh Hamilton
Music by G.F. Handel

Let the bright Seraphim in burning row
their loud uplifted angel-trumpets blow.

Let the cherubic host, in tuneful choir,
touch their immortal harps with golden wire.

Contemporary American composer Lori Laitman’s (b. 1955) vast oeuvre encompasses numerous operas, art songs, and instrumental works, including commissions from the BBC, Opera America, Seattle Opera, and others. This cycle, The Sunflowers was commissioned and premiered by Dr. Adelaide Whitaker in 1999. Each song paints a dreamy, lyrical portrait of nature and desire using text by Pulitzer Prize winning poet Mary Oliver.

The Sunflowers
Poem by Mary Oliver
Music by Lori Laitman

Come with me
into the field of sunflowers.
Their faces are burnished disks,
their dry spines

creak like ship masts,
their green leaves,
so heavy and many,
fill all day with the sticky

sugars of the sun.
Come with me
to visit the sunflowers,
they are shy

but want to be friends;
they have wonderful stories
of when they were young —
the important weather,

the wandering crows.
Don’t be afraid
to ask them questions!
Their bright faces,

which follow the sun,
will listen, and all
those rows of seeds —
each one a new life! —

hope for a deeper acquaintance;
each of them, though it stands
in a crowd of many,
like a separate universe,

is lonely, the long work
of turning their lives
into a celebration
is not easy. Come

and let us talk with those modest faces,
the simple garments of leaves,
the coarse roots in the earth
so uprightly burning.

Dreams
Poem by Mary Oliver
Music by Lori Laitman

All night
the dark buds of dreams
open
richly.

In the center
of every petal
is a letter,
and you imagine

if you could only remember
and string them all together
they would spell the answer.
It is a long night,

and not an easy one —
you have so many branches,
and there are diversions —
birds that come and go,

the black fox that lies down
to sleep beneath you,
the moon staring
with her bone-white eye.

Finally you have spent
all the energy you can
and you drag from the ground
the muddy skirt of your roots

and leap awake
with two or three syllables
like water in your mouth
and a sense

of loss — a memory
not yet of a word,
certainly not yet the answer —
only how it feels

when deep in the tree
all the locks click open,
and the fire surges through the wood,
and the blossoms blossom.

Sunrise
Poem by Mary Oliver
Music by Lori Laitman

You can
die for it -
an idea,
or the world. People

have done so,
brilliantly,
letting
their small bodies be bound

to the stake, creating
an unforgettable fury of light. But

this morning,
climbing the familiar hills
in the familiar
fabric of dawn, I thought

of China,
and India
and Europe, and I thought
how the sun

blazes
for everyone just
so joyfully
as it rises

under the lashes
of my own eyes, and I thought
I am so many!
What is my name?

What is the name
of the deep breath I would take
over and over
for all of us? Call it

whatever you want, it is
happiness, it is another one
of the ways to enter
fire.

Joseph Canteloube (1879-1957) was born in Auvergne, France and grew up immersed in the folk songs of the region. As an adult, he studied composition with Vincent D’Indy at the Schola Cantorum in Paris, where both men were “dedicated to the decentralization of French music, to its renewal through the incorporation of folksong into classical music and to the preservation of the regional traditions of folk music” according to scholar Richard Langham Smith. Pastoura als camps tells the story of a shepherdess encountering (and later fleeing) from the pursuits of a young man.

Pastoura als camps
Folksong from Quercy
Music by Joseph Canteloube

The Shepherd Girl in the Fields
Translation by Elizabeth Brodovitch and
Lori McCann

As the shepherd girl is going out to the
pastures to tend her young sheep,

she meets a little gentleman
looking her over.

“Ah, let me gaze upon you!
What a pretty girl you are,” says he. “

Well, why don’t you tie up your little horse to the branch of this tree?” she replies.

Ah! But just as he was catching hold of his prize, she got away!

Baïlèro is a shepherd’s call, meant to carry over long distances to communicate with other shepherds.

Baïlèro
Auvergnat Shepherd’s Song
Music by Joseph Canteloube

Shepherd’s Song
Translation by Elizabeth Brodovitch and
Lori McCann

Shepherd across the water,
are you having a good time?
Calling “Baïlèro lèrô!”

Hey, it’ s not so great.
Over to you: “Baïlèro lèrô!”

Shepherd, the meadow is in flower;
this is where you should be tending your flock. Calling “Baïlèro lèrô!”

The grass is finer in the pasture over here: Over to you: “Baïlèro lèrô!”

Shepherd, how can I get over?
There’ s a little riverdown there.
Calling “Baïlèro lèrô!”

Wait for me; I am coming to get you:
Over to you: “Baïlèro lèrô!”

L’aïo dè rotso is a montagnarda, a satirical bourrée which is typically only danced by men.

L’aïo dè rotso
Auvergnat Bourrée
Music by Joseph Canteloube

Water from the Spring
Translation by Elizabeth Brodovitch and
Lori McCann

Drinking water from the spring will kill you sweetie; drinking water from the spring is certain death. No, no, you mustn’t drink that stuff! Much better to have a bowlful of wine instead!

If a girl wants to get married, don’t give her any water from the spring! She will be much happier with a swig of wine!

Like Joseph Canteloube, Emmanuel Chabrier (1879-1957) was also born and raised in the Auvergne region of France, though unlike Canteloube he maintained a career as a lawyer while also composing works for stage, orchestra, and voice. Chabrier’s music is often remembered for its humor and has been “marked by a wide range negotiated with large leaps combined with chromatic decoration” according to scholar Steven Huebner.

“Villanelle des petits canards” uses the French poetic structure of a villanelle with the refrains “Ils vont, les petits canards” and “Comme de bons campagnards” to paint a humorous, rustic picture of a flock of ducks.

Villanelle des petits canards
Poem by Rosemonde Gérard
Music by Emmanuel Chabrier

Villanelle of the Little Ducks
Translation from IPA Source

They go, the little ducks,
All along the riverbank,
Like good country folk!

Paddlers and splashers,
Happy to muddy the clear water,
They go, the little ducks,
They seem a bit naïve,
But they go about their business,
Like good country folk!

In the water full of tadpoles,
Where a delicate weed trembles,
They go, the little ducks.
Walking in scattered groups,
In a regular gate
Like good country folk;

In the beautiful green spinach
Of the moist watercress,
They go, the little ducks,
And although a little mocking,
They’re good-humored by nature,
Like good country folk!

In chattering circles, they make
Quite a racket!
They go, the little ducks,
Plump, glossy, and lively,
They’re gay in their own way,
Like good country folk!

Amorous and nasal,
Each with his lady,
They go, the little ducks,
Like good country folk!

“L’île heureuse” is a romantic strophic song, featuring a rolling triplet accompaniment that mimics the movement of waves. Decorative chromaticism paints a languid memory of happy times.

L’île heureuse
Poem by E. Mikhaël
Music by Emmanuel Chabrier

The Happy Island
Translation from IPA Source

By the shady gardens of the gulf,
Blond pairs of happy lovers
Have garlanded the languorous masts
Of your galley

And caressed by gentle summer
Our beautiful, enchanted ship
Bound for the country of delight
Cleaves the clear waves

See, we are the sovereigns
Of luminous deserts marine,
On the waves, delightful and so serene,
Let us rock our dreams!

Your pale hands have the power
To perfume the air of evening from afar,
And in your eyes, I think I see again
The skyline of the shores!

But yonder, yonder in the sun,
The dear vermillion land appears
From whence arises a song of awakening
And of joy;

It’s the happy island of gentle skies
Where, among the exotic lilies,
I’ll sleep in the orchards,
Beneath your caress.

The strophic “Toutes les fleurs” is also characterized by large intervallic leaps and chromaticism. The onset of each verse begins with a rocketing, staccato ascent in the piano, until the protagonist, unable to contain their joy, bursts into song.

Toutes les fleurs
Poem by Edmond Rostand
Music by Emmanuel Chabrier

All the flowers
Translation from IPA Source

Certainly, I adore all the flowers!
Pale lilies with languid bows,
The slender lilies with gold satin
In their calyxes of powdered gold!
And the azure cornflowers
Decorate the waving corn with blueness.
And the dawn half-draws open the bindweed
With its cold fingers…
But above all, above all, I am in love,
Although the wild rumor
Fills the happy gardens,
With the lilac lilacs and the rose roses!

Certainly, I adore all the flowers!
The cyclamen in fragile clusters
The mimosa that gilds the thickets,
And the dear jasmine so coquettish,
And the sweet broom
That scents the breeze.
And the fine lilies-of-the-valley,
The silver lilies-of-the-valley,
So fresh when dawn
Bedews the groves.
But above all, above all, I am in love,
Although the wild rumor
Fills the happy gardens,
With the lilac lilacs and the rose roses!

Certainly, I adore all the flowers!
All the flowers which decorate your beauty,
The bright marigolds whose golden light
Bathes your hair with the color of tea,
The velvety iris which always lends you
It’s slenderness.
And the carnation which causes your cheeks and
the dawn to compete!
But above all, above all, I am in love,
Although the wild rumor
Fills the happy gardens,
With the lilac lilacs and the rose roses!

German-American composer Kurt Weill was especially well known for his musical theatre writing, first in the Weimar Republic (Germany) and later on Broadway where he collaborated with legends like Hammerstein and Gershwin. During the early 1930’s, he fled Nazi Germany to Paris and later New York with his wife, celebrated singer Lotte Lenya.

“Klops Lied” is a quirky, atonal setting of a German folk song, in which the speaker is interrupted from his lunch by… himself. The piece also makes use of the Berlin accent by truncating words and using “ick” instead of the more traditional “ich” for the first-person “I”.

Klops Lied
Traditional Berlin Folk Rhyme
Music by Kurt Weill

Meatball Song
Translation by Gary Bachlund

I sit here, eating meatballs,
And it swings wide open.
I look, astonished and bewildered,
And rise to go to the door.
Okay, I says, says I, okay,
I'll finish eating, and then see.
I go out and look around,
And who's outside? - It's me!

Weill wrote “Berlin im Licht” for the 1928 Berlin Festival, during which the Berlin electric and gas companies produced a light exhibition with the same title. The song shows the triumphant, modern future of the city despite heavy losses in WWI the decade before.

Berlin im Licht
Music and lyrics by Kurt Weill

Berlin in Light
Translation by Steven Blier

If you just want to take a walk,
all you need is sunlight,
but if you want to see the city of Berlin,
the sun just isn’t enough.
This is no secluded little outpost;
it’s quite a place.
To see everything in it properly,
you’re going to need a few watts.
So what? So what?
What kind of city is it anyway?

Come on, turn on the lights
so we can see what there is to see –
Come on, turn on the lights
and don’t say another word.
Come on, turn on the lights,
so we can see
what the big deal is: Berlin in Lights!

Weill composed “Buddy on the Nightshift” in 1942 for the Lunch Time Follies, a touring entertainment program performed at factories and plants dedicated to supporting the war effort.

Buddy on the Nightshift
Lyrics by Oscar Hammerstein
Music by Kurt Weill

Hello there buddy on the nightshift!
I hope you slept all day
Until the moon came out and woke you up
And sent you on your way

Hello there, buddy on the nightshift,
I hope you’re feeling fine!
I left a lot of work for you to do
On a long assembly line.

I wish I knew you better
But you never go my way
For when one of us goes on the job
The other hits the hay!

Goodbye now, buddy on the nightshift
And push those planes along
And when the sun comes out I’ll take your place
All wide awake and strong;
I’ll follow you, you’ll follow me
And how can we go wrong!

The Broadway musical Lady in the Dark tells the story of Liza Elliot, a stoic and industrious fashion magazine editor in 1940’s New York City who suffers a series of panic attacks. She seeks the help of a psychoanalyst and has a series of bombastic, musical dreams during each of their sessions. “One Life to Live” takes place during the “Glamour Dream” in which Liza pictures herself as high-profile celebrity, adored by all and utterly glamorous.

One Life to Live
Lyrics by Ira Gershwin
Music by Kurt Weill

There are many minds in circulation
Believing in reincarnation
In me you see
One who doesn’t agree.

Challenging possible affronts,
I believe I’ll only live once
And I want to make the most of it.
If there’s a party I want to be the host of it.
If there’s a haunted house I want to be the ghost of it.
If I’m in town I want to be the toast of it.

I say to me every morning,
You’ve only one life to live,
So why be done in?
Let’s let the sun in
And gloom can jump in the riv’!

No use to beat on the doldrums
Let’s be imaginative.
Each day is numbered,
No good when slumbered,
With only one life to live.

Why let the goblins upset you?
One smile and see how they run.
And what does worrying net you?
Nothing! The thing is to have fun!

All this may sound kind of hackneyed
But it’s the best I can give.
Soon comes December,
So please remember,
You’ve only one life to live,
Just one life to live.

I say to me every morning,
You’ve only one life to live,
So why be done in?
Let’s let the sun in
And gloom can jump in the riv’!

What you collect at the grindstone
Becomes a millstone in time.
This is my thesis:
Why go to pieces?
Step out while you’re in your prime.

You may say I’m an escapist
But I would rather by far
Be that than be a red-tape-ist.
Lead me, speed me, straight to the bar!

Just laugh at old man repression
And send him into obliv’
Then you’re the winner
I’m off to dinner.
I’ve only one life to live,
Just one life to live.