Commissioned by Philip Brown for his high school women's ensemble, the suite sets three wonderful poems of Edna St. Vincent Millay that deal with her desire for travel, her wish for freedom, and her teases about men.  Accompaniment - piano with optional viola and cello.   Text as follows:
1. Keen

Weep him dead and mourn as you may,
Me, I sing as I must:
Blessèd be Death, that cuts in marble
What would have sunk to dust!

Blessèd be Death, that took my love
And buried him in the sea,
Where never a lie nor a bitter word
Will out of his mouth at me.

This I have to hold to my heart,
This to take by the hand:
Sweet we were for a summer month
As the sun on the dry white sand;

Mild we were for a summer month
As the wind from over the weirs.
And blessèd be Death, that hushed with salt
The harsh and slovenly years!

Who builds her a house with love for timber
Builds her a house of foam.
And I'd liefer be bride to a lad gone down
Than widow to one safe home.

2.  To the Not Impossible Him

How shall I know, unless I go
To Cairo and Cathay,
Whether or not this blessèd spot
Is blest in every way?

Now it may be, the flower for me
Is this beneath my nose;
How shall I tell, unless I smell
The Carthaginian rose?

The fabric of my faithful love
No power shall dim or ravel
Whilst I stay here,—but oh, my dear,
If I should ever travel!

3.  Travel

The railroad track is miles away, 
    And the day is loud with voices speaking, 
Yet there isn’t a train goes by all day 
    But I hear its whistle shrieking.

All night there isn’t a train goes by, 
    Though the night is still for sleep and dreaming, 
But I see its cinders red on the sky, 
    And hear its engine steaming.

My heart is warm with the friends I make, 
    And better friends I’ll not be knowing; 
Yet there isn’t a train I wouldn’t take, 
    No matter where it’s going.

HHS 2012 March Concert

Three Emancipation Songs (Poetry by Edna St. Vincent Millay)

Premiered by the Oratorio Society of Minnesota, Matthew Mehaffey, conductor and artistic director, a setting of poetry by Laura Harrington for SATB chorus, Harp (optional piano), and 'Cello, duration 11 minutes. The poetry is written to honor a friend's loss of her daughter in an automobile accident - and expresses a longing for balancing grief with joyous memory.  Text as follows:

LET THERE BE JOY

Text: Laura Harrington, adapted from the poem by Kim Garcia

I.

If anyone loves
If anyone loves and loses
If anyone loves and loses and lives to tell the tale
Let them be joyful
Let them be broken and joyful
Let them be bold and broken and joyful

If anyone dies
If anyone dies and ceases to be
If anyone dies and ceases to be and longs to tell the tale
Let them be hopeful
Let them be broken and hopeful
Let them be bold and broken and hopeful

Let them walk the evenings past, 
Repeating and repeating.
Let them be repeating, joyful, 
Be broken, be dying, be hopeful
Losing, loving, returning, broken,
Let them be joyful, let the evening sing

II.

Let there be sorrow
Let the saints watch us weep
Let our tears pool and wash their feet

Let there be mercy, mercy abounding
Let there be mercy on the land, in the air, on the sea
Mercy for every creature, every color, every creed
For men, for women, the halt, the lame
The deaf, the blind, the beasts of burden
Alligator, ibis, lions of the sea, of the land
Piping plovers, sand pipers, whooping cranes

After the sorrow
After the dying
After the wars and the cataclysms
When the sorrow is spent
When the dead are buried
Then, and again, and again, and always again,
Let there be joy

III.

Tell me of the comfort of beauty
Tell me of the soul in flight
Tell me of the anguish of grieving
Tell me of the soul’s dark night

Our souls are larger than the world
Larger than the darkness that presses upon us
Larger than memory, larger than despair
Larger than the air and the blue light of heaven

Tell me of the comfort of beauty
Tell me of the soul in flight
Tell me of the anguish of grieving
Tell me of the soul’s dark night

Lift your face to the sky and listen
Listen to the blue and the birds and the rustle of wings
These things, I think, are fragments of the soul,
Of the whole, repeating and repeating
Let them be joyful, let the evening sing

Back to the Future, November 2008

Let There Be Joy! (text by Laura Harrington)

Four settings of poems by Edna St. Vincent Millay, dealing with a woman's desire for independence, frustration with men's "ways," and the love of travel and adventure.

1.
What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why, 
I have forgotten, and what arms have lain 
Under my head till morning; but the rain 
Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh 
Upon the glass and listen for reply, 
And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain 
For unremembered lads that not again 
Will turn to me at midnight with a cry. 

Thus in the winter stands the lonely tree, 
Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one, 
Yet knows its boughs more silent than before: 
I cannot say what loves have come and gone, 
I only know that summer sang in me 
A little while, that in me sings no more.

Summer Sang In Me

Travel:  The Railroad Track Is Miles Away

How Shall I Know?

Keen:  Weep Him Dead

What Lips My Lips Have Kissed

Commissioned by the Oratorio Society of Minnesota, Matthew Mehaffey, Artistic director - a full-length oratorio featuring the music of the great song writers of the American Songbook of the 30s and 40s, with original music by Roger Ames and libretto by Dan Kehde.  Additional conceptional work by Elizabeth Bassine.  Premiered May 2018.  Ordway, Concert Hall, with Bradley Greenwald, Sarah Lawrence, and Anna Baker, featured soloists.

The Greatest Generation Sc. 1 - 1:19:19, 9.48 PM

Here is the poem:

As They Had Been Healed

 

and the people stayed home.

and read books, and

listened, and rested, and

exercised, and made art,

 

they played games, and learned

new ways of being, and were still.

 

they listened more deeply.

 

some meditated, some prayed,

some danced.

some met their shadows.

and the people began

to think differently.

 

they healed.

 

in the absence of people

living in ignorant, dangerous,

mindless, and heartless ways,

the earth, [too,] began to heal.

 

…when the danger passed,

and the people joined together again,

they grieved their losses,

and made new choices,

and dreamed new images,

and created new ways to live

and heal the earth fully.

as they had been healed. 

Kitty O’Meara (adapted) [via Soul Alchemy]

As They Had Been Healed 2 2

Performed live at Princeton Chapel, the Westminster Choirs, James Jordan, conducting.  With Brass and percussion.

Westminster & James Jordan

Rejoice! Arr. Ames

Composer, artist-mentor, father, husband, would-be sailor… Born in Cooperstown, NY; Trained at the Crane School of Music, SUNY Potsdam, Queens College, NYC, American University, Washington D.C., and others… taught at the Hartt School of Music, Theater and Dance, Great Neck North High School, and resident composer at New Dramatists, NYC; Central City Opera, Denver; Colorado Springs Conservatory; American School in London, and others.  18 Choral pieces published by Hinshaw Music, Inc; GIA Music, Chicago… numerous commissions and larger works available at rogerames.org

Roger Ames

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