Bird of Time (2025)

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)

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

Good News from New England (2023)

Good News from New England (2023)

SSATB and violin solo
Duration: 15′
Oxford University Press
Commissioned by Geoffrey Smeed for City Chamber Choir
First performance 12 July, 2022 | City Chamber Choir | Stephen Jones,
conductor | Carpenters’ Hall, City of London, UK

This exciting fifteen-minute work for SSATB and solo violin draws its title from Edward Winslow’s 1624 chronicles, Good Newes from New England, in which he describes the Mayflower Pilgrims’ settlement in the New World. The first of the three movements describes the Pilgrims’ perilous journey, the second, the mysterious disappearance of Governor William Bradford’s wife, and the third movement, Thanksgiving, is a time of rejoicing. The cantata closes with Henry Ainsworth’s version of ‘The Old Hundredth’, which was sung on the Mayflower; the audience is encouraged to join the choir in singing this hymn.

Next year will see the 400th anniversary of the 1624 chronicles on which Good News from New England is based.

Programme note:
Good News from New England Cecilia McDowall
1. An Unexpected Shore
2. Ghost of a feather
3. Thanksgiving leading to The Old Hundredth

Good News from New England was commissioned by Geoffrey Smeed for the City Chamber Choir and its founder and conductor, Stephen Jones. The first movement of the work, An unexpected shore, has been recorded for the Coro label by The Sixteen, conductor Harry Christophers, and is entitled, An Old Belief. The Sixteen have programmed this movement to be a part of their Choral Pilgrimage which moves between twenty-five cathedrals, priories and concert halls throughout the UK in 2022. The work is scored for mixed voices with solo violin and draws its title from Edward Winslow’s chronicles of 1624, Good Newes from New England, in which he describes the early experiences of the Mayflower Pilgrims arrival and settlement in the New World.

An Unexpected Shore takes its text from the journal of the Puritan separatist William Bradford, Of Plymouth Plantation. Bradford was chosen to be governor of Plymouth Colony in 1621 and gives a telling account of the arrival of the Pilgrims in a new land after their long and perilous journey. These resilient non-conformist Pilgrims were inspired by a ‘sense of earthly grandeur and divine purpose’ and the opening movement charts their voyage from one shore to another by gradually descending from A Major, through Ab Major to G Major, perhaps bringing a sense of establishing a new community in this harsh landscape.

Ghost of a feather is fashioned from two very different texts, 400 years apart, on the same poignant matter; the death of William Bradford’s wife. John Greening’s subtle yet powerful poem describes how Bradford’s wife ‘fell’ overboard into a calm sea in the harbour, December 1620, while her husband was ashore. By contrast, there is something resolute, in the face of catastrophe, in Bradford’s own poem written after his wife, Dorothy’s, tragic death. In seeing the Bradford text I adopted a semi ‘Bay Psalm Book’ idiom, with its plain homophonic style, introducing occasional dissonance to intensify the anguish. In contrast the opening and closing section of this movement might seem more ‘folk-like’ with a violin accompaniment which perhaps reflects the known Celtic influence on fiddle playing in New England at the time. ‘Cole’s Hill’ refers to the first burial ground of the Pilgrims in Plymouth.

The third movement brings perhaps a sense of release and joyfulness in Thanksgiving. The violin solo is in playful dialogue with the dance-like vocal lines. These words are taken from Winslow’s Thanksgiving le􀆩er of 1621 written to a friend in England. A year after the Mayflower Pilgrims se􀆩led in Plymouth, they had much to celebrate. The following section reprises material from the opening movement which in turn leads to Henry Ainsworth’s version of The Old Hundredth which was sung on the Mayflower and subsequently in the Plymouth Colony. The audience is encouraged to participate in singing this hymn.

(1) An unexpected shore

And lo! The winds did blow us ever to the North; so that we that crossed the Seas to seek the Lord’s right worship and the Gospell’s sweet simplicitiee, did now espy an unexpected shore; yet still resolv’d in our extremity to make it ours, by Compact, orderly and free. And here is to be noted a spetiall providence of God, and a great mercie. For we did take a better view, and soon resolv’d where to pitch our dwelling; our first house to raise for common use. William Bradford, Governor of Plymouth Colony 1630 (freely adapted and abridged by Nicholas
Dakin)

(2) Ghost of a feather (William Bradford’s wife, 23, falls overboard and drowns.)

A single cry from the ghost of a feather.
A solitary goodwife drops into the bay.
One burial, then another, then another.
The first house on Christmas Day.

Cole’s Hill (Burial Hill) by John Greening

Faint not, poor soul, in God still trust;
Fear not the things thou suffer must;
For, whom he loves he doth chas􀆟se,
And then all tears wipes from their eyes.

William Bradford (on the death of his wife)

(3) Thanksgiving
After the famines of the first winter, our harvest now being gotten in, we did after a special
manner rejoice and give thanks together, many of the Indians coming in amongst us we
entertained and feasted. And although it was not always so plentiful again, yet by the
goodness of our God, we were so far from want, that we often wished you partakers of our
plenty.

For me a table thou hast spread,
In presence of my foes:
Thou dost anoint my head with oil,
My cup it over-flows.
And in the Lord’s house I shall dwell
So long as days shall be. (Bay Psalm Book)

Edward Winslow, December 1621, Thanksgiving Letter (adapted and abridged by Nicholas
Dakin)

(4) The Old Hundredth Henry Ainsworth (1571-1622) Book of Psalmes Englished both in
Prose and Metre (1612) freely adapted

Showt to Jehovah, al the earth,
Serv ye Jehovah with gladness;
before him come with singing mirth
Know that Jehovah he God is.

It’s he that made us, and not wee;
his folk, and sheep of his feeding.
O with confession enter ye his gates,
his courtyards with praising:

Confess to him, bless ye his name.
Because Jehovah he good is:
his mercy ever is the same
and his faith, unto all ages.

Henry Ainsworth, English Congregationalist, wrote the psalter that was used on the
Mayflower and at Plymouth, Massachuse􀆩s by the Pilgrims. Later, the first book published in
America would be another psalter, the Bay Psalm Book, but when the Pilgrims first sang
psalms in the New World, the lines came from the Ainsworth Psalter, titled The Book of
Psalmes: Englished both in Prose and Metre with Annotations.

Review:
‘McDowall’s radiant anthem sets the words of Puritan separatist William
Bradford as he recounts the voyage of the Mayflower. The work dextrously
captures both the sway of the ocean and the relief of reaching firm ground, and
this fine interpretation features a beautiful solo line from soprano Alexandra
Kidgell.’ – BBC Music Magazine

Link to buy score:
https://global.oup.com/academic/product/good-news-from-new-england-%209780193540552?q=Good%20News%20from%20New%20England&lang=e%20n&cc=gb#

Link to view score:

Cecilia McDowall – Good News from New England