Musical Moments #10
“Tone and sound are subordinate to ideas. Ideas are subordinate to feelings and passions.”
Hector Berlioz (1862)
Paul Moravec’s Songs of Love and War - “Always, Always”
In the powerful “Musical Moment” we will hear today, the context spans four wars— Vietnam, WWII, WWI, and the Civil War—and the personal anguish revealed in letters to and from soldiers and their loved ones. In the first missive from the Civil War, the soldier appears to be preparing his wife back home for the reality that he may not return. The letter reads:
“Sarah, my love for you is deathless. It seems to bind me with mighty cables that nothing but omnipotence can break. And yet my love of country comes over me like a strong wind and draws me un-resistibly on with all these chains to the battlefield.
I have but few claims on divine Providence, but something whispers to me. Perhaps it’s the wafted prayer of my little Edgar that I should return to my loved ones unharmed.
If I do not, dear Sarah, never forget how much I love you. If the dead can come back to this Earth and flit unseen around those they love, I will always be near you. In the gladdest days and in the darkest nights. Always.
And if there be a soft breeze upon your cheek. It will be my breath. As the cool air fans your throbbing temple. It shall be my spirit passing by. Sarah, do not mourn me dead, but think that I am gone and wait for me, for we shall meet again. Always…”
—Sullivan Ballou, 1861
Officer Ballou, was killed in the First Battle of Bull Run, a few weeks after penning the letter. The letter was found in his saddlebag and delivered posthumously to his wife.
I certainly agree with my friend, author Barrymore Laurence Scherer in his book A History of American Classical Music, when he writes that Pulitzer prize-winning composer Paul Moravec “is a masterfully engaging colorist, who derives inspiration from a variety of sources.” In this case, Paul surely must have been inspired by the emotional depth these letters possess.
The soloists are bass Kevin Deas and trumpeter Teresa Rata Linn, accompanied by members of the Bach Festival Choir and Orchestra.
A number of years ago at a Winter Park Institute event, someone asked the great violinist Itzhak Perlman the question, “Why are you grateful?” The answer was insightful and spoke directly to my heart. I remember his saying, “I am still grateful that music can make me weep.” Musicians who continue with passion to pursue their art can certainly relate to this wise and emotionally vulnerable response from a consummate artist.
Certain pieces also get to me, though this is rare with music I have conducted as I am usually too critical to enjoy them. But for some reason, every time I hear this movement emotions take over. What is causing the strong reaction? The story, the singing, the playing, or the composition itself? The answer is, yes! When music and lyrics are wed, they create a synergy difficult to describe. Perhaps it is an aesthetic experience. Who knows? But I do know this; I continue to be grateful for the impact music has on my life.
—John V. Sinclair
“Bring the good old bugle, boys, we’ll sing another song;
Sing it with a spirit that will start the world along...”
Henry Clay Work (1865)
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