The Butterfly’s Spell
Chamber Opera after the play El maleficio de la mariposa by Federico Garcia Lorca
for 7 singers and 7 instrumentalists 70’ 2017 (awaiting production)
Overview
The Butterfly’s Spell is a chamber opera based on an early play by Federico Garcia Lorca. An expressionist or symbolist drama arising from the writer’s identity issues, it depicts the world of insects - giving fine opportunities for exotic costumes and staging. It tells how a Poet Beetle rejects the love of the devoted Sylvia in favour of an impossible infatuation with a fragile Butterfly whose destiny it is to fly away, leaving the Poet to die of a broken heart. A sad tale, but a comic opera which also features a drunken Scorpion, an overbearing Mother and Two Fireflies which glow in the dark. Suitable for all ages.
Duration: 70 minutes (Act 1 - 40 minutes, Act 2 - 30 minutes, interval optional)
Characters
Sylvia, a young lady beetle & The Butterfly - soprano (& dancer)
Two Young Fireflies, girl & boy - soprano & mezzo-soprano
Mother Beetle, an elderly lady - contralto
The Poet Beetle, Mother Beetle’s son - tenor
Doctor Cockroach, healer and teacher - baritone
The Old Scorpion, a forester - bass
Instruments
Violin, viola, cello, flute (+ piccolo, alto flute), bassoon, marimba, harp
Text and adaptation © Edward Lambert 2017. The author's rights are asserted.
Chamber Opera after the play El maleficio de la mariposa by Federico Garcia Lorca
for 7 singers and 7 instrumentalists 70’ 2017 (awaiting production)
Overview
The Butterfly’s Spell is a chamber opera based on an early play by Federico Garcia Lorca. An expressionist or symbolist drama arising from the writer’s identity issues, it depicts the world of insects - giving fine opportunities for exotic costumes and staging. It tells how a Poet Beetle rejects the love of the devoted Sylvia in favour of an impossible infatuation with a fragile Butterfly whose destiny it is to fly away, leaving the Poet to die of a broken heart. A sad tale, but a comic opera which also features a drunken Scorpion, an overbearing Mother and Two Fireflies which glow in the dark. Suitable for all ages.
Duration: 70 minutes (Act 1 - 40 minutes, Act 2 - 30 minutes, interval optional)
Characters
Sylvia, a young lady beetle & The Butterfly - soprano (& dancer)
Two Young Fireflies, girl & boy - soprano & mezzo-soprano
Mother Beetle, an elderly lady - contralto
The Poet Beetle, Mother Beetle’s son - tenor
Doctor Cockroach, healer and teacher - baritone
The Old Scorpion, a forester - bass
Instruments
Violin, viola, cello, flute (+ piccolo, alto flute), bassoon, marimba, harp
Text and adaptation © Edward Lambert 2017. The author's rights are asserted.
Synopsis
The philosophising Doctor tells the audience how he once heard a tale about a young Poet Beetle who fell in love with a Butterfly and came to a sorry end. As the stage is transformed into the insects' village and the sun rises in a brilliant dawn, he meets the Poet's Mother to whom he expresses some foreboding at the signs he has seen. He makes his way home and the Mother goes about her chores, while Two Young Fireflies introduce Sylvia, a wealthy young lady who is threatening to drown herself for love. The Mother knows full well that the object of her infatuation is her son, the Poet, and when he enters she resolves to see the couple married. He, however, is pre-occupied with writing a poem and takes no notice. There follows a lively trio. When the young pair is finally left alone, he cannot bring himself to propose and Sylvia departs broken-hearted.
In the heat of the day, the Old Scorpion enters the scene. He is rough and rude and constantly drunk. He teases and chases the young Fireflies, who are rescued when the Mother rushes in, brandishing her broom. Just at that moment, an injured Butterfly is brought in (played by the same singer as Sylvia). Everyone gathers round, concerned for her fate and awe-struck by her beauty. Her wounds are tended to, and she sings of strange things in far-off places. It quickly becomes obvious that the Poet has fallen deeply in love with her. The act ends in fear and sorrow as the sun sets.
By way of an interlude, the insects relax in the cool of the evening singing Lorca’s famous ballad about the moon who, disguised as a woman, came to the gypsy's forge and abducted a young lad.
The Doctor resumes the story. The Butterfly is brought to a forest clearing bathed in moonlight which will help cure her wounds. Her song becomes more melodious as she recovers and the glowing Fireflies - who drink sweet dew-drops and sing of love - appear in her dreams. The Poet enters, filled with longing for the beautiful Butterfly and for a few moments their voices intertwine. They know, however, that her destiny is to fly away.
The Scorpion is now hungry and, coming across the Butterfly, decides to make her into a tasty meal. The Poet protects her, but the Scorpion's tail lashes out at him and he is stung by its deadly venom. The Mother’s stick prevents further catastrophe, but she is too late to save her son who dies as the dawn breaks and the Butterfly takes flight. As the Fireflies cover the Poet in rose petals, the cast reminds us that the Poet's songs will live forever.
The philosophising Doctor tells the audience how he once heard a tale about a young Poet Beetle who fell in love with a Butterfly and came to a sorry end. As the stage is transformed into the insects' village and the sun rises in a brilliant dawn, he meets the Poet's Mother to whom he expresses some foreboding at the signs he has seen. He makes his way home and the Mother goes about her chores, while Two Young Fireflies introduce Sylvia, a wealthy young lady who is threatening to drown herself for love. The Mother knows full well that the object of her infatuation is her son, the Poet, and when he enters she resolves to see the couple married. He, however, is pre-occupied with writing a poem and takes no notice. There follows a lively trio. When the young pair is finally left alone, he cannot bring himself to propose and Sylvia departs broken-hearted.
In the heat of the day, the Old Scorpion enters the scene. He is rough and rude and constantly drunk. He teases and chases the young Fireflies, who are rescued when the Mother rushes in, brandishing her broom. Just at that moment, an injured Butterfly is brought in (played by the same singer as Sylvia). Everyone gathers round, concerned for her fate and awe-struck by her beauty. Her wounds are tended to, and she sings of strange things in far-off places. It quickly becomes obvious that the Poet has fallen deeply in love with her. The act ends in fear and sorrow as the sun sets.
By way of an interlude, the insects relax in the cool of the evening singing Lorca’s famous ballad about the moon who, disguised as a woman, came to the gypsy's forge and abducted a young lad.
The Doctor resumes the story. The Butterfly is brought to a forest clearing bathed in moonlight which will help cure her wounds. Her song becomes more melodious as she recovers and the glowing Fireflies - who drink sweet dew-drops and sing of love - appear in her dreams. The Poet enters, filled with longing for the beautiful Butterfly and for a few moments their voices intertwine. They know, however, that her destiny is to fly away.
The Scorpion is now hungry and, coming across the Butterfly, decides to make her into a tasty meal. The Poet protects her, but the Scorpion's tail lashes out at him and he is stung by its deadly venom. The Mother’s stick prevents further catastrophe, but she is too late to save her son who dies as the dawn breaks and the Butterfly takes flight. As the Fireflies cover the Poet in rose petals, the cast reminds us that the Poet's songs will live forever.
The Duchess of Padua
"Personally I like comedy to be intensely modern, and like my tragedy…. to be remote". (Wilde)
In this early play by Wilde, the beauty of his verse mattered more than the realistic portrayal of character and the credibility of the drama. At times melodramatic, at times sentimental, with everything in between, this adaptation faithfully follows the twists and turns of Wilde's extraordinary plot and reveals it to be more modern than it seems. Designed to make a big impact in small spaces this is a grand, ‘Italian-style’ opera with arias, ensembles, a love-duet, and a death scene but condensed for just four voices and piano duet.
Duration: about 80 minutes (plus interval)
The Duchess of Padua is an early play by Wilde written in Paris in 1883. A drama of revenge, passion and murder in the Gothic style, it is related to Shakespearean tragedy and Shelley’s The Cenci. "Personally I like comedy to be intensely modern, and like my tragedy…. to be remote", Wilde wrote in 1894. It was an attempt to bring to the stage the sensibilities of the aesthetic movement: the beauty of the dialogue mattered more than the realistic portrayal of character and the credibility of the drama. Even so, the Duchess herself is a fully drawn Victorian contemporary, a feisty feminist trapped in a failed marriage to the boorish Duke - a victim of coercive control - and the misfortune to fall for a high-minded house-guest; beyond the elevated blank verse are indeed modern ideas “under an antique form.” This adaptation of The Duchess of Padua turns it into a four-act ‘Italian-style’ opera (with arias, ensembles, a love duet and a death scene) for four voices accompanied by piano duet. As if to emphasise the play’s musicality, the cast members also step outside their roles and form a narrative chorus which sets the scene or comments on the action.
(Act One) The elderly Count Moranzone tells young Guido Ferranti, recently arrived in Padua, that his noble father, whom the son never knew, was betrayed by the Duke of Padua and executed. He arranges for Guido to serve the Duke so that he can exact revenge, but he insists this be done only when Moranzone judges the time to be right, at which point Guido will receive his father’s dagger to carry out the deed. When the Duke appears, it soon becomes apparent that he is as evil as he ever was. As he leaves for the cathedral, the Duchess passes by and catches sight of Guido.
(Act Two) The Duke is revealed as a cruel husband to the beautiful young Duchess, with whom Guido now finds himself in love. The unhappy Duchess is only too ready to return his love; but when Moranzone brings the dagger and reminds Guido of his duty to avenge his father; feeling himself unworthy, he abandons her and resolves to murder the Duke that night.
(Act Three) On further reflection he decides not to kill but to steal the moral high ground by laying the dagger on the sleeping Duke who, on waking, would lay himself at Guido’s mercy. Moranzone is not impressed by this noble scheme. Then, as Guido approaches the Duke’s bedchamber, the Duchess comes out of it: desperate, she was about to kill herself - but murdered the Duke instead. Guido is horrified that the woman he idolised is capable of such a thing and casts her off a second time. Jilted again, the Duchess covers Guido in the Duke’s blood and summons the guards: “Here is the man who slew my lord”, she cries.
(Act Four) Incarcerated in a dreadful dungeon, Guido is provided with poison in preference to dying on the scaffold. He sleeps. The Duchess visits him; to ease her conscience and save the man she truly loves, she has arranged for his escape and, believing that Guido doesn't return her feelings, now drinks the poison to die in his place. When he awakes, however, he confesses his love and, as the executioners approach, takes the Duchess’ dagger and dies in her arms, while she succumbs to the poison.
Characters
GUIDO FERRANTI, a young person from Perugia (mezzo-soprano - A)
COUNT MORANZONE, an elderly courtier (bass - B)
DUKE OF PADUA (tenor - T)
BEATRICE, DUCHESS OF PADUA, his young wife (soprano - S)
Place: Padua
Time: The latter half of the Sixteenth Century
"Personally I like comedy to be intensely modern, and like my tragedy…. to be remote". (Wilde)
In this early play by Wilde, the beauty of his verse mattered more than the realistic portrayal of character and the credibility of the drama. At times melodramatic, at times sentimental, with everything in between, this adaptation faithfully follows the twists and turns of Wilde's extraordinary plot and reveals it to be more modern than it seems. Designed to make a big impact in small spaces this is a grand, ‘Italian-style’ opera with arias, ensembles, a love-duet, and a death scene but condensed for just four voices and piano duet.
Duration: about 80 minutes (plus interval)
The Duchess of Padua is an early play by Wilde written in Paris in 1883. A drama of revenge, passion and murder in the Gothic style, it is related to Shakespearean tragedy and Shelley’s The Cenci. "Personally I like comedy to be intensely modern, and like my tragedy…. to be remote", Wilde wrote in 1894. It was an attempt to bring to the stage the sensibilities of the aesthetic movement: the beauty of the dialogue mattered more than the realistic portrayal of character and the credibility of the drama. Even so, the Duchess herself is a fully drawn Victorian contemporary, a feisty feminist trapped in a failed marriage to the boorish Duke - a victim of coercive control - and the misfortune to fall for a high-minded house-guest; beyond the elevated blank verse are indeed modern ideas “under an antique form.” This adaptation of The Duchess of Padua turns it into a four-act ‘Italian-style’ opera (with arias, ensembles, a love duet and a death scene) for four voices accompanied by piano duet. As if to emphasise the play’s musicality, the cast members also step outside their roles and form a narrative chorus which sets the scene or comments on the action.
(Act One) The elderly Count Moranzone tells young Guido Ferranti, recently arrived in Padua, that his noble father, whom the son never knew, was betrayed by the Duke of Padua and executed. He arranges for Guido to serve the Duke so that he can exact revenge, but he insists this be done only when Moranzone judges the time to be right, at which point Guido will receive his father’s dagger to carry out the deed. When the Duke appears, it soon becomes apparent that he is as evil as he ever was. As he leaves for the cathedral, the Duchess passes by and catches sight of Guido.
(Act Two) The Duke is revealed as a cruel husband to the beautiful young Duchess, with whom Guido now finds himself in love. The unhappy Duchess is only too ready to return his love; but when Moranzone brings the dagger and reminds Guido of his duty to avenge his father; feeling himself unworthy, he abandons her and resolves to murder the Duke that night.
(Act Three) On further reflection he decides not to kill but to steal the moral high ground by laying the dagger on the sleeping Duke who, on waking, would lay himself at Guido’s mercy. Moranzone is not impressed by this noble scheme. Then, as Guido approaches the Duke’s bedchamber, the Duchess comes out of it: desperate, she was about to kill herself - but murdered the Duke instead. Guido is horrified that the woman he idolised is capable of such a thing and casts her off a second time. Jilted again, the Duchess covers Guido in the Duke’s blood and summons the guards: “Here is the man who slew my lord”, she cries.
(Act Four) Incarcerated in a dreadful dungeon, Guido is provided with poison in preference to dying on the scaffold. He sleeps. The Duchess visits him; to ease her conscience and save the man she truly loves, she has arranged for his escape and, believing that Guido doesn't return her feelings, now drinks the poison to die in his place. When he awakes, however, he confesses his love and, as the executioners approach, takes the Duchess’ dagger and dies in her arms, while she succumbs to the poison.
Characters
GUIDO FERRANTI, a young person from Perugia (mezzo-soprano - A)
COUNT MORANZONE, an elderly courtier (bass - B)
DUKE OF PADUA (tenor - T)
BEATRICE, DUCHESS OF PADUA, his young wife (soprano - S)
Place: Padua
Time: The latter half of the Sixteenth Century
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Highlights from Wilde’s text:
Revenge… By night thou shalt creep into his chamber; see that thou wake him, tell him of what blood thou art, Sprung from what father, and for what revenge, Then bid him pray for mercy. Vengeance, be thou my comrade, sit by my side, ride to the chase with me, sing me sad songs, when I am weary make jest for me, And when I dream, whisper into my ear the dreadful secret of a father’s murder-- Politics… In Padua we think that honesty is ostentatious, so It is not of the fashion. Guido, be not honest. See thou hast enemies, else will the world think little of thee: It is its test of power. See thou show’st a smiling mask of friendship to all men, Until thou hast them safely in thy grip, then thou canst crush them. Feminism… Men when they woo us call us pretty children: We are their chattels, and their common slaves, Less dear than the hound that licks their hand, Less fondled than the hawk upon their wrist. Woo, did I say? bought rather, sold and bartered, Our bodies as merchandise. It is the general lot of women, Each miserably mated to some man, To wreck her life upon his selfishness: That it is general makes it not less bitter. There is many a woman here in Padua, Some workman’s wife, or artisan’s, Whose husband spends his wages in a revel, And reeling home late, finds his wife by a fireless hearth with a child who cries for hunger, And then beats his wife because The child is hungry, and the fire black. Yet the wife loves him! and will rise next day And try to smile, and be glad If he does not beat her a second time: that is how women love. When men love women they give but little of their lives, But women when they love give everything. Desire… Ask of the sea-bird if it loves the sea, Ask of the roses if they love the rain, Ask of the little lark, that will not sing Till day break, if it loves to see the day:-- These are but empty images, shadows of my love, which is a fire so great that all the waters of the main Can not avail to quench it. |
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The Parting (Chimera)
a scene for three voices and chamber organ or piano
words from
Federico García Lorca
music by
Edward Lambert
The Parting is based on a fragmentary play by Federico García Lorca. Enrique is going on a journey and he will be away ‘for a long time’. His wife watches from a window and the voices of his children cry out for presents. An old man appears and offers to help with his luggage. As they disappear into the distance, the wife and children are left alone.
Characters
ENRIQUE, tenor
HIS WIFE, soprano
AN OLD MAN, bass
VOICES OF THEIR SEVERAL CHILDREN, spoken & pre-recorded
Scene: outside the house
duration: about 12 minutes
First performance: Hungerford, The Croft Hall, 13 October 2018
Felicity Hayward (soprano) The Wife
Lindsay Bramley (mezzo-soprano) Old Woman
David Horton (tenor) Enrique
Stephen Westrop (piano)
Edward Lambert (conductor)
William Ashford (director)
“…a mesmerising performance of this short opera … had the audience transfixed.” Newbury Weekly News
a scene for three voices and chamber organ or piano
words from
Federico García Lorca
music by
Edward Lambert
The Parting is based on a fragmentary play by Federico García Lorca. Enrique is going on a journey and he will be away ‘for a long time’. His wife watches from a window and the voices of his children cry out for presents. An old man appears and offers to help with his luggage. As they disappear into the distance, the wife and children are left alone.
Characters
ENRIQUE, tenor
HIS WIFE, soprano
AN OLD MAN, bass
VOICES OF THEIR SEVERAL CHILDREN, spoken & pre-recorded
Scene: outside the house
duration: about 12 minutes
First performance: Hungerford, The Croft Hall, 13 October 2018
Felicity Hayward (soprano) The Wife
Lindsay Bramley (mezzo-soprano) Old Woman
David Horton (tenor) Enrique
Stephen Westrop (piano)
Edward Lambert (conductor)
William Ashford (director)
“…a mesmerising performance of this short opera … had the audience transfixed.” Newbury Weekly News
Caedmon
Chamber opera in one act after the play One Thing More by Christopher Fry
Commissioned in September 1988 by the Garden Venture at the Royal Opera House with funds made available by the Arts Council of Great Britain and sponsored by readers of the Independent newspaper
6 performances in May 1989 at the Donmar Warehouse, London as part of the London International Opera Festival
In his Ecclesiastical History the Anglo-Saxon historian Bede recounts how, in the year 664, Caedmon was inspired by a dream to compose his first piece of poetry, the famous 'Caedmon's Hymn'. In his play One Thing More, Christopher Fry has construed a life of Caedmon which takes this divine enlightenment as its central incident and relates it to events in Caedmon's past life. The theme of the play is that of suffering and anguish which, when redeemed by love, enable the soul to be freed of dread and guilt: previously tongue-tied, Caedmon can express his new-found love for creation in poetry and music.
CAST
THE VENERABLE BEDE, spoken
soprano - THE NOVICE NUN & THE GIRL IN THE DREAM,
mezzo-soprano - THE WIDOW & THE ABBESS HILDA
tenor - CAEDMON
tenor - JODDY & THE PRIOR
baritone - THE OVERMAN & PERSON IN THE DREAM
bass - KERN & THE PRECENTOR
Off-stage voices of nuns and monks - pre-recorded by members of the cast
The action of the opera takes place at the monastery of Whitby on the North Yorkshire coast, and is narrated by the Venerable Bede. Outside the monastery walls, the farmworkers - Joddy, Kern, the Widow, with their Overman - assemble before dawn as they prepare for work. The Widow bemoans the recent loss of her husband, a stableman, while the others remark on the appearance of a stranger in the area. No-one knows who he is, or what he is doing, save that he is regularly spotted before dawn listening to the singing of Prime from the monastery. Kern points out that the singing has become quite special since the arrival of a new novice and as Prime is heard in the distance the Overman tells of the cave he has found where the stranger sleeps. As the sun comes up Caedmon is indeed revealed listening to the music which grows, as he does, ever more animated. When the Widow tries to question him he only remarks on the beauty of the sun and the sound of the singing. Caedmon tries to limp off - he has a wound, we learn - but the Overman detains him. Painfully, Caedmon reveals that he has spent his working life as a professional soldier and gives as a reason for his being in the area an obscure reference to someone he has never known. The Overman would know more, offers him nonetheless the post of Stableman.
The scene that follows takes place in the monastery cloister. It is evening and the Abbess Hilda reflects on the turmoil caused by the Synod of Whitby which has just ended. She is more concerned with the welfare of the Novice who confesses that she is deeply troubled by thoughts of her parents - although she has never known them. Her mother died when she was born and no-one ever spoke of her father; these thoughts cause her much agony, particularly in the early morning during the singing of Prime. The Abbess comforts her.
The third scene takes place in the Great Barn, late on the day of the solar eclipse of that year. The farmworkers remark on the awesomeness of the event, and their sombre mood is only dispelled by the flowing ale and their attempts at singing: Joddy improvises badly, Kern shows off his bawdy humour and the Overman leads everyone in a rousing drinking song. They try to persuade Caedmon to sing, but withdrawn as usual, words fail him. As the Widow sings a gentle lullaby the ale takes its effect and the scene dissolves into sleep.
Caedmon dreams. A Person appears to him. He does not reveal who he is but suggests he might be part of Caedmon himself. He asks why Caedmon was so unwilling to sing: why he doesn't leave his shell of silence and join the music of life. He reminds him of his youth. A Girl now appears - she looks very like the Novice Nun, for she is her mother - the girl whom Caedmon once loved. They remember their days of bliss together before she too urges Caedmon to sing. The vision fades and with considerable new-found virtuosity, Caedmon sings of the beginning of created things. He awakes to the singing of Prime and hears above the other voices the singing of the Novice, the music of which he now feels to be part. Wondrously, he completes his verses. Overhearing him, the Overman brings this transformation to the attention of the Abbess, who with the Prior and the Precentor hail his awakening as a miracle: Caedmon's wound is healed. The Abbess hints that a monastic life awaits him, and the Precentor remembers an earlier encounter with him as they tended together the wounded on the battlefield.
An instrumental interlude leads to the last scene in the monastery where Caedmon, now an aged monk, is lying on his palet, calmly awaiting death. He sings a short verse, one thing more, while the night's office of Compline is heard from the Chapel.
The original performers:
Caedmon - Christopher Gillett
Overman/Person in the Dream - Richard Lloyd Morgan
Abbess/Widow - Philippa Dames-Longworth
Novice/Girl in the Dream - Dawn Williamson
Kern/Precentor - Stuart Harling
Joddy/Prior - Gordon Wilson
Nancy Ruffer [flute/piccolo], Joseph Saunders [oboe/cor anglais], Chris Craker [clarinets], David Cox [horn], Isobel Frayling-Cork [harp], Roland Roberts [violin], Rebecca Wexler [viola], Nick Roberts [cello]
Conductor Edward Lambert
Director Andrew Sinclair
Designer Robin Auld
Live recording available at Music Preserved sound archive
Chamber opera in one act after the play One Thing More by Christopher Fry
Commissioned in September 1988 by the Garden Venture at the Royal Opera House with funds made available by the Arts Council of Great Britain and sponsored by readers of the Independent newspaper
6 performances in May 1989 at the Donmar Warehouse, London as part of the London International Opera Festival
In his Ecclesiastical History the Anglo-Saxon historian Bede recounts how, in the year 664, Caedmon was inspired by a dream to compose his first piece of poetry, the famous 'Caedmon's Hymn'. In his play One Thing More, Christopher Fry has construed a life of Caedmon which takes this divine enlightenment as its central incident and relates it to events in Caedmon's past life. The theme of the play is that of suffering and anguish which, when redeemed by love, enable the soul to be freed of dread and guilt: previously tongue-tied, Caedmon can express his new-found love for creation in poetry and music.
CAST
THE VENERABLE BEDE, spoken
soprano - THE NOVICE NUN & THE GIRL IN THE DREAM,
mezzo-soprano - THE WIDOW & THE ABBESS HILDA
tenor - CAEDMON
tenor - JODDY & THE PRIOR
baritone - THE OVERMAN & PERSON IN THE DREAM
bass - KERN & THE PRECENTOR
Off-stage voices of nuns and monks - pre-recorded by members of the cast
The action of the opera takes place at the monastery of Whitby on the North Yorkshire coast, and is narrated by the Venerable Bede. Outside the monastery walls, the farmworkers - Joddy, Kern, the Widow, with their Overman - assemble before dawn as they prepare for work. The Widow bemoans the recent loss of her husband, a stableman, while the others remark on the appearance of a stranger in the area. No-one knows who he is, or what he is doing, save that he is regularly spotted before dawn listening to the singing of Prime from the monastery. Kern points out that the singing has become quite special since the arrival of a new novice and as Prime is heard in the distance the Overman tells of the cave he has found where the stranger sleeps. As the sun comes up Caedmon is indeed revealed listening to the music which grows, as he does, ever more animated. When the Widow tries to question him he only remarks on the beauty of the sun and the sound of the singing. Caedmon tries to limp off - he has a wound, we learn - but the Overman detains him. Painfully, Caedmon reveals that he has spent his working life as a professional soldier and gives as a reason for his being in the area an obscure reference to someone he has never known. The Overman would know more, offers him nonetheless the post of Stableman.
The scene that follows takes place in the monastery cloister. It is evening and the Abbess Hilda reflects on the turmoil caused by the Synod of Whitby which has just ended. She is more concerned with the welfare of the Novice who confesses that she is deeply troubled by thoughts of her parents - although she has never known them. Her mother died when she was born and no-one ever spoke of her father; these thoughts cause her much agony, particularly in the early morning during the singing of Prime. The Abbess comforts her.
The third scene takes place in the Great Barn, late on the day of the solar eclipse of that year. The farmworkers remark on the awesomeness of the event, and their sombre mood is only dispelled by the flowing ale and their attempts at singing: Joddy improvises badly, Kern shows off his bawdy humour and the Overman leads everyone in a rousing drinking song. They try to persuade Caedmon to sing, but withdrawn as usual, words fail him. As the Widow sings a gentle lullaby the ale takes its effect and the scene dissolves into sleep.
Caedmon dreams. A Person appears to him. He does not reveal who he is but suggests he might be part of Caedmon himself. He asks why Caedmon was so unwilling to sing: why he doesn't leave his shell of silence and join the music of life. He reminds him of his youth. A Girl now appears - she looks very like the Novice Nun, for she is her mother - the girl whom Caedmon once loved. They remember their days of bliss together before she too urges Caedmon to sing. The vision fades and with considerable new-found virtuosity, Caedmon sings of the beginning of created things. He awakes to the singing of Prime and hears above the other voices the singing of the Novice, the music of which he now feels to be part. Wondrously, he completes his verses. Overhearing him, the Overman brings this transformation to the attention of the Abbess, who with the Prior and the Precentor hail his awakening as a miracle: Caedmon's wound is healed. The Abbess hints that a monastic life awaits him, and the Precentor remembers an earlier encounter with him as they tended together the wounded on the battlefield.
An instrumental interlude leads to the last scene in the monastery where Caedmon, now an aged monk, is lying on his palet, calmly awaiting death. He sings a short verse, one thing more, while the night's office of Compline is heard from the Chapel.
The original performers:
Caedmon - Christopher Gillett
Overman/Person in the Dream - Richard Lloyd Morgan
Abbess/Widow - Philippa Dames-Longworth
Novice/Girl in the Dream - Dawn Williamson
Kern/Precentor - Stuart Harling
Joddy/Prior - Gordon Wilson
Nancy Ruffer [flute/piccolo], Joseph Saunders [oboe/cor anglais], Chris Craker [clarinets], David Cox [horn], Isobel Frayling-Cork [harp], Roland Roberts [violin], Rebecca Wexler [viola], Nick Roberts [cello]
Conductor Edward Lambert
Director Andrew Sinclair
Designer Robin Auld
Live recording available at Music Preserved sound archive
Christopher Fry (1907-2005) One of the most celebrated playwrights of the mid-20th century, regarded as the Shakespeare of his time for his poetry and wit. While a young teacher, helped to found the Tunbridge Wells Repertory Players in 1932, and directed the English premiere there of Bernard Shaw's Village Wooing in 1934. Two years later, Fry married Phyllis Hart, a journalist. In 1939 Fry left teaching to become the artistic director of the Oxford Playhouse, and in the same year published his first play, The Boy with a Cart. But his theatrical career was abruptly overtaken by World War II. A Quaker and a pacifist, Fry served four years with the Pioneer Corps fighting fires and dealing with bomb damage on the Liverpool docks. After the war, his hopeful comedies led a resurgence in verse drama in English, especially the four "seasonal comedies": The Lady's Not for Burning ("Spring," 1948), Venus Observed ("Autumn," 1949), The Dark Is Light Enough ("Winter," 1954) and A Yard of Sun ("Summer," 1970). He also wrote religious dramas in verse such as The Firstborn (1946), Thor with Angels (1948) and A Sleep of Prisoners (1951), and several important dramatic translations such as Ring Round the Moon (1950) and The Lark (1955) by Jean Anouilh and Tiger at the Gates (1955) by Jean Giraudoux. Fry's plays attracted some of the era's best classical actors, including Paul Scofield in A Phoenix Too Frequent (1946), John Gielgud in The Lady's Not for Burning and Laurence Olivier in Venus Observed.
