Songs of the North (2026)
SSATB and piano
Text: John Challis (North); Catherine Ayres (Notes made on Hadrian’s Wall); Ian Stuart (Journey North) These three poems can be found on the Poem of the North website:
https://poemofthenorth.co.uk/
Duration: 12 minutes
Commissioned by Newcastle Bach Choir to celebrate Eric Cross’s 40th anniversary as conductor
I North
II Notes made on Hadrian’s Wall
III Journey North
Songs of the North sets three texts from ‘Poem of the North’, a poetic collaboration celebrating 50 years of the Northern Poetry Library. As part of the project, poems were written with a new ‘821’ form: a structure characterized by 11-line, three-stanza poems that employ the ‘volta’ concept to subtly interconnect series of stanzas. The work’s celebration of Northern English writing begins with ‘North’, a flowing and forward-moving movement that reflects the poet’s consideration of north as ‘a progressive direction’. The second movement, ‘Notes made on Hadrian’s Wall’, has a folk-like simplicity and integrates the folk song ‘Waters of Tyne’ into the texture. Additionally, the poem’s references to the Sycamore Gap tree are given greater poignance following its illegal felling in 2023. The final movement, ‘Journey North’, has a rhythmic drive that evokes an exciting train journey through a fast-changing landscape.
Programme Note:
Songs of the North Cecilia McDowall
I. North
2. Notes made on Hadrian’s Wall
3. Journey North
These three poems, North, Notes made on Hadrian’s Wall and Journey North were written as part of a poetic concept, ‘Poem of the North’, created by Lisa Matthews to celebrate 50 years of the Northern Poetry Library, established in Morpeth, Northumberland in 1968. The library hosts the largest collection of post-World War II poetry in England outside London, home to constellations of finely-tuned, often moving and sometimes unnerving words.
Lisa Matthews writes, ‘the Poem of the North’ brings together the work of the fifty selected poets, in five cantos, published over a period of six months. By the end of 2018, the completed poem stands as a celebratory artefact: a tribute to the region and acknowledgement of the North’s rich seam of writers and written culture.’
The concept behind Poem of the North is that each poem is based on a new poetic form … 8-2-1 … a form devised by Lisa Matthews as a tribute to the poetry section of libraries. The 821 poetic form is an 11-line, 3-stanza structure which draws its inspiration from the number assigned to English poetry in the Dewey Decimal Classification (DDC) system. Secondly, 821 utilises the “volta”, a concept traditionally associated with sonnets and used to create a subtly interconnected series of stanzas that turn or riff off one another.
Songs of the North, for mixed chorus and piano, was commissioned by the Newcastle Bach Choir to celebrate Eric Cross’ 40th anniversary as conductor. John Challis’ North is the first poem in this new work and he writes that his poem ‘considers north as a progressive direction’. The text gives a real sense of always moving onwards and holding the idea of ‘north’ close. Catherine Ayres’ poem, Notes made on Hadrian’s Wall has a spare quality about it; silence, a vast sky above the ‘shadow spine’ of the wall and a deep sense of history. The words, ‘I mean nothing, almost sucked towards the sycamore’s crown,’ are particularly poignant in the light of the wanton destruction of the Sycamore Gap tree. I have given this movement a simple ‘folk-like feel and integrated the folk song, Waters of Tyne, into the texture. The rhythmic drive of final poem, Journey North by Ian Stuart suggests an exciting train journey through a fast-changing landscape, pausing for a moment to observe ‘a blaze of sunflowers’, their faces raised ‘to the silent sky.’
Read more on the Poem of the North site
North
Imagine it not as a point to reach – for all ways
are equal to the compass – nor as a place,
since there is always north of north – go far enough
you’ll find yourself back where you began –
but as the sense of moving forwards, going up,
going heavenwards, through the cold
and through the clouds, the ultimate ascent towards
whatever keeps you up, be it fame or love
or hunger to know what’s around the corner,
up the street or at the border: what matters
most is keeping north, and keeping north inside. © 2018, John Challis
Notes made on Hadrian’s Wall
Sly light and silence. The sky unfolds.
When the lark spools, an old yearning is washed clean.
I stand on the wall to squint its distant line. Wall as dormant god,
wall as watcher, wall as shadow spine, wall as lost ribbon in the wind.
I mean nothing, almost sucked towards the sycamore’s crown.
The fort is drowned and the women further under.
At Harrow’s Scar, spleenwort crawls
through mottled stone.
Does the hairpin hold a seed or a star?
Both are trinkets pressed into a palm.
At dusk swallows twitch through empty rooms. © 2018, Catherine Ayres
Journey North
Skyline waving like a banner
tugging folds and wrinkles straight,
vaulting bridges, shadowed valleys
plunge into the tunnel’s maw and then –
A bight out of the land, a crescent shore
of splintered shoals and rocks
gnawed by the breakers, rank on rank –
a hunch-backed cottage clenched against the cold
and in a scratched out garden by the beach,
raising their faces to the silent sky
a blaze of sunflowers. © 2018, Ian Stuart
Link to OUP website
Bird of Time (2025)
Soprano solo, SSATB and oboe, strings and percussion or piano accompaniment
Text: Kate Wakeling
Duration: 15 minutes
Commissioned by Henley Choral Society and conductor, Peter Asprey
I O Bird of Time
II Aubade (a lament)
III To Be Bird
In this poignant three-movement work, Cecilia McDowall sets texts by Indian political activist and poet Sarojini Naidu and frequent collaborator Seán Street. With the exquisite beauty of birdsong, often expressed by the obbligato oboe part, at its heart, Bird of Time explores themes of sorrow, loss, and hope for a better future. The opening movement is structured around questions posed to the ‘Bird of Time’ and features richly expressive instrumental interludes. A soprano soloist joins the choir for the second movement, which contrasts the optimism of a dawn chorus with a lament to the plight of the dwindling avian population. The energetic and playful closing movement explores the notion of a ‘bird’s-eye view’ of how humans might appear to these airborne creatures.
Programme Note:
Bird of Time Cecilia McDowall
soprano solo, mixed chorus, oboe, strings and percussion
On receiving this special commission from Ealing Choral Society, to celebrate its 60th anniversary, I was keen to involve the choir in some way. I asked if the singers would share their thoughts on poetic texts with me, something which might suggest a line of inspiration. There were many poems and texts I loved, and it would have been hard to choose from them all, but there was one I was fascinated by: a poem submitted by the Treasurer, Cynthia Haliburn, The Bird of Time by the remarkable Indian political activist, feminist and poet, Sarojini Naidu. And it seemed even more apposite to be setting Sarojini Naidu’s poetry now, during the 75th anniversary of Indian Independence.
After two years of pandemic, and all the difficulties which arose from this time, I think we have become more alive to what we hold most dear. With restrictions imposed on our day-to-day activities in lockdown, many of us took to exercising in the streets; there were few cars, no overhead planes, and in the silence we heard . . . the birdsong; exquisitely beautiful, full of variety and loud! And it is the idea of this precious sound at the heart of the cantata, Bird of Time.
Sarojini Naidu’s poem, The Bird of Time, embraces sorrow, loss and hope for the future. Each verse asks the ‘Bird of Time’ a question, ‘What are the songs you sing?’ In the lines that follow we learn of such poignant contrasts, of joy and despair, of dreams and laughter, of life and death. The movement closes by restating the opening couplet. Life’s full circle, perhaps.
The second movement, Aubade, for soprano solo and chorus is a setting of a poem by Seán Street. Seán and I have collaborated many times before now and it is always a joy to share ideas and work together. I have subtitled Seán’s poem, ‘a lament’. Growing up in the sixties I was very aware of the influence the book Silent Spring by Rachel Carson had on my parents. I can even remember the arresting look of the book with a dead bird on the cover. Rachel Carson, a marine biologist and conservationist, was far ahead of her time. The soprano soloist opens the movement, singing of the dawn chorus which we hear ‘out of darkness, song before flight […] dawn song before everything.’ The chorus picks up the phrase, ‘out of darkness.’ In the second verse the soprano intimates that the avian population is dwindling; this time the chorus sings, ‘into darkness’. In the last verse, ‘silent spring’ has arrived with its ‘haunting silence beyond repair’. The chorus responds, ‘beyond darkness’.
In the last movement, To be bird, we now have a ‘bird’s-eye view’ of how we humans might appear to these airborne creatures. And they are not impressed! When we discussed how this poem might be, Seán related how he had heard, during the pandemic when planes were a rare thing, a nestful of startled chicks squawking at the sudden rush of sound from an aeroplane. In the second verse Seán conjures up some indignation at such a disturbance. The final verse accepts that humans are hopeless; ‘You aspire to be bird? Oh my word – it’s absurd!’
©2022, Cecilia McDowall
1. The Bird of Time
O Bird of Time on your fruitful bough
What are the songs you sing? . . .
Songs of the glory and gladness of life,
Of poignant sorrow and passionate strife,
And the lilting joy of the spring;
Of hope that sows for the years unborn,
And faith that dreams of a tarrying morn,
The fragrant peace of the twilight’s breath,
And the mystic silence that men call death.
O Bird of Time, say where did you learn
The changing measures you sing? . . .
In blowing forests and breaking tides,
In the happy laughter of new-made brides,
And the nests of the new-born spring;
In the dawn that thrills to a mother’s prayer,
And the night that shelters a heart’s despair,
In the sigh of pity, the sob of hate,
And the pride of a soul that has conquered fate.
Sarojini Naidu (1879-1949)
2. Aubade
Air made audible.
Out of darkness,
song before flight, before wing,
dawn song before everything.
Out of darkness.
A music maker
for those who sang,
for the diminishing choir,
less in each unfeathering hour.
Into darkness.
Absence visible,
and morning song
haunting silence beyond repair,
filling space where their voices were
Beyond darkness.
Seán Street (1946)
3. To Be Bird
You aspire to be bird,
beyond word into song,
beyond earth into sky,
but ground makes your sound,
too solid, too rooted
to be part of our choir.
Your thunder and roar,
the noise as you soar,
disturbing our night
and clouding our light
drowns all our protests,
the joy of our nests.
Were you as we, you’d see
how to grow into blue.
we are not here for you
but ourselves, so how can
we teach you the sky,
teach you transparency?
You aspire to be bird?
Oh my word, it’s absurd!
Seán Street (1946)
Link to OUP website
Music of the Stars (2024)
SATB and strings and percussion or piano accompaniment
Text: Brian Odongo (Music of the Stars); Neil deGrasse Tyson (The hardest thing): James Weldon Johnson (The Gift to Sing)
Duration: 15 minutes
Commissioned by the Chamber Singers of Iowa City member, James Petersen and his spouse David McCartney in 2020
I Music of the Stars
II The hardest thing
III The Gift to Sing
Music of the Stars offers an enlightening commentary on the power of music to console and uplift in challenging times. Characterful string writing accompanies the engaging vocal lines, with McDowall artfully employing vibraphone, glockenspiel, and suspended cymbal to sprinkle a touch of celestial sparkle throughout the score. An excerpt from a folksong from Ukraine is woven into the first movement’s gentle setting of Kenyan poet Brian Odongo’s atmospheric depiction of the music of the ancient stars that watch over humanity below. The second, up-tempo movement presents American astrophysicist Neil deGrasse Tyson’s absorbing explanation of ‘light’ and how we perceive it. Lastly, the affirmatory final movement sets American writer James Weldon Johnson’s well-known text ‘The Gift to Sing’, drawing the piece to a close with the emphatic, joyful statement: ‘And I can sing’.
Programme Note:
Music of the Stars Cecilia McDowall
I Music of the Stars
II The hardest thing
III The Gift to Sing
‘Music of the Stars’ was commissioned by long-time Chamber Singers of Iowa City member, James Petersen and his spouse David McCartney, to celebrate the Chamber Singers’ fiftieth season. In normal times this anniversary commission would have been programmed to take place during the 2020-2021 season but due to the global COVID pandemic has been delayed until this year.
James and David suggested a commission which could celebrate the power of music in these difficult times. I was most touched to be offered such a rewarding commission. Finding just the right text to set is such an interesting process and I felt this one was particularly engaging. In recognition of the racial issues which face us every day the commissioners and music director, David Puderbaugh, offered texts written by people of colour; James Weldon Johnson and Kenyan born, Brian Odongo. The latter text was discovered by another CSIC singer, Elaine Reding.
To continue the theme of music, singing and the stars I discovered an absorbing explanation of ‘light’ and how we perceive it by the American astrophysicist, Neil deGrasse Tyson. He is an outstanding science communicator and I found myself drawn to, and fascinated by, his planetary postings which have a clarity I had not encountered before.
The atmospheric text of the first movement, Music of the Stars, evokes ‘dark night clouds’, illuminated by ancient, radiant stars as they watch over mortals’ adventures below; the ‘music of the stars’ sings to ‘seafarers, wayfarers and soldiers’. There is a gentle, almost mesmerising pace to the poem which I hope is reflected in the music. I wove a little Ukrainian folksong into this movement, just a wisp of the song, (In the garden flowers are growing, Boys will quarrel where I’m going) as it just seemed impossible to ignore the unfolding horror in Ukraine. I would be mortified if this seemed a posturing gesture but as I was writing I found it hard not to be affected by these shocking events and to feel, at the same time, utterly powerless as a witness.
In the text of the second, up-tempo movement, The hardest thing, Tyson explores the concept of how we analyse color. Certainly, when reading Tyson’s explanation of how the universe is studied, one begins to sense what an extraordinarily complex science astrophysics is. Setting prose to music needs a different approach, I feel, and I aimed to bring a more conversational style to the word setting, sometimes repeating the little phrase endings, to give a little more emphasis.
The poem, The Gift to Sing, will be so familiar to many. I found this a wonderful poem to set; there is something so quietly confident, so intimate and ultimately joyful about it. Each verse ends with a solution to the day’s challenges – ‘I softly sing’; ‘and sing and sing’; ‘And I can sing’. These heart-warming words bring an affirmation of what the power of singing can do for us all in times of difficulty. The text speaks to us all in these most exacting times. How glorious it is, at last, to sing again.
The work is scored for strings and percussion, and I have used the vibraphone, the glockenspiel and suspended cymbal to add colour to the texture, hoping to sprinkle a little celestial sparkle over the score. I do hope this work brings a response to the times in which we now live.
© 2022, Cecilia McDowall
Music of the Stars
Cecilia McDowall
1. Music of the Stars
The dark night clouds are starlit
As though to mock the moon
That arises at each twilight
To take the mantle from the sun
All united in an assignment
To light the dark auditorium below
The radiant stars gloriously move
Age to age whispering its adventures
It’s the music of the stars
Singing the past, present, future
Singing a past heard in legends
Singing a present felt by all men
Singing a future obscure to mortals
It’s the music of the stars.
The inaudible lyrics of the stars
That need neither lute nor lyre*
To arouse the heart with its ancient rhyme
That chime that is older than any note
Like a spell enchants the audience
Its melody wanes towards daybreak
Like a script come to a timely end
Its rhythm diminishes
Like beats fleeting from dawn
Its harmony dis-accords
Like harpers’ strings breaking
It’s the music of the stars
Singing a ballad to seafarers
Singing a hymn to wayfarers
Singing an anthem to soldiers
It’s the music of the stars.
*In the garden flowers are growing,
Boys will quarrel where I’m going.
[Ukrainian folksong]
Brian Odongo (1994)
2. The hardest thing to explain about the universe
The hardest thing, I think by far, is how we analyze spectra — light broken up into its component colors. It’s so abstract, so removed from the actual object we’re studying. See, chemists study chemicals in the lab. Biologists study life on Earth. But astrophysicists can’t go out there and grab a piece of a galaxy and put it in a laboratory. We have to study a picture of the thing, and then analyze the light that comes from it. Nearly everything we know about our universe comes through the analysis of light. It’s all just light – and ninety-nine percent of it happens to be invisible to the naked eye.
from Being an astronomer
Neil deGrasse Tyson (1958)
3. The Gift to Sing
Sometimes the mist overhangs my path,
And blackening clouds about me cling;
But, oh, I have a magic way
To turn the gloom to cheerful day – I softly sing.
And if the way grows darker still,
Shadowed by Sorrow’s somber wing,
With glad defiance in my throat,
I pierce the darkness with a note – And sing, and sing.
I brood not over the broken past,
Nor dread whatever time may bring;
No nights are dark, no days are long,
While in my heart there swells a song – And I can sing.
James Weldon Johnson (1871-1938)
Link to Score
