The Lark Ascending
Ralph Vaughan Williams (1872-1958)
This descriptive work first appeared in 1914 as a ‘Romance for Violin and Piano’. In 1921, it re-emerged in the form we now know, scored for solo violin with a small orchestra, and with a new title. Between those dates, Ralph Vaughan Williams had served in the Royal Army Medical Corps in the Great War. He returned to civilian life much affected by the horrors he had witnessed and saddened by the erosion of traditional culture. He preferred to look back rather than forward, and is remembered for his involvement in the so-called Folksong Revival. Much of his music includes folk melodies or original tunes that resemble folk music, possibly in wistful remembrance of lost innocence. ‘The Lark Ascending’ is one in this vein. The modal melody that appears centrally could be regarded as a symbol of the English countryside scanned by the chirruping skylark, soaring high above. The work is not avant garde but it is certainly original, the solo violin being given improvisatory cadenzas, virtually free of metre, creating a persuasive musical interpretation of the eponymous poem by George Meredith that served as its inspiration. Meredith’s lines appear at the head of the score to highlight the connection:
He rises and begins to round,
He drops the silver chain of sound,
Of many links without a break,
In chirrup, whistle, slur and shake.
For singing till his heaven fills,
’Tis love of earth that he instils,
And ever winging up and up,
Our valley is his golden cup
And he the wine which overflows
To lift us with him as he goes.
Till lost on his aërial rings
In light, and then the fancy sings.
Commentators have drawn a qualitative distinction between the clunkiness of these ‘greeting card’ couplets and the carefree character of the music. Conrad Wilson wrote:
Vaughan Williams’s opening bars, and the way they rise into the main theme, are a miracle of airy succinctness which makes Meredith appear earthbound in comparison. The chiming triangle, the singing woodwind and, above, the constantly rhapsodic spiralling of the solo line, all contribute to a musical idyll in which words seem irrelevant.
Ralph Vaughan Williams (1872-1958)
This descriptive work first appeared in 1914 as a ‘Romance for Violin and Piano’. In 1921, it re-emerged in the form we now know, scored for solo violin with a small orchestra, and with a new title. Between those dates, Ralph Vaughan Williams had served in the Royal Army Medical Corps in the Great War. He returned to civilian life much affected by the horrors he had witnessed and saddened by the erosion of traditional culture. He preferred to look back rather than forward, and is remembered for his involvement in the so-called Folksong Revival. Much of his music includes folk melodies or original tunes that resemble folk music, possibly in wistful remembrance of lost innocence. ‘The Lark Ascending’ is one in this vein. The modal melody that appears centrally could be regarded as a symbol of the English countryside scanned by the chirruping skylark, soaring high above. The work is not avant garde but it is certainly original, the solo violin being given improvisatory cadenzas, virtually free of metre, creating a persuasive musical interpretation of the eponymous poem by George Meredith that served as its inspiration. Meredith’s lines appear at the head of the score to highlight the connection:
He rises and begins to round,
He drops the silver chain of sound,
Of many links without a break,
In chirrup, whistle, slur and shake.
For singing till his heaven fills,
’Tis love of earth that he instils,
And ever winging up and up,
Our valley is his golden cup
And he the wine which overflows
To lift us with him as he goes.
Till lost on his aërial rings
In light, and then the fancy sings.
Commentators have drawn a qualitative distinction between the clunkiness of these ‘greeting card’ couplets and the carefree character of the music. Conrad Wilson wrote:
Vaughan Williams’s opening bars, and the way they rise into the main theme, are a miracle of airy succinctness which makes Meredith appear earthbound in comparison. The chiming triangle, the singing woodwind and, above, the constantly rhapsodic spiralling of the solo line, all contribute to a musical idyll in which words seem irrelevant.