Resounding Verse

In Friedrich Rückert’s “Die gute Nacht, die ich dir sage,” two people separated at night exchange greetings through an angel who travels between them. In this episode, I explore Clara Schumann’s 1841 setting of the poem and the ways her music gives shape to its strange sense of distance, suspended time, and listening. I also consider a special arrangement for two singers, in which the song itself seems to pass from one voice to another before the two finally come together for the words jetzt gute Nacht—“now good night.”

The episode features a live performance of the song at the Oxford International Song Festival by Sophie Karthäuser, Stephan Loges, and Eugene Asti.

Die gute Nacht, die ich dir sage

Friedrich Rückert

Die gute Nacht, die ich dir sage,

Freund, hörest du;

Ein Engel, der die Botschaft trage

Geht ab und zu.

Er bringt sie dir, und hat mir wieder

Den Gruß gebracht:

Dir sagen auch des Freundes Lieder

Jetzt gute Nacht.

The Good Night That I Bid You

Friend, you hear

The good night that I bid you;

An angel, bearing the message

Goes to and fro.

He brings my message to you and has returned

The greeting to me:

The friend’s songs

Now say good night to you, too.

Constance Morgan’s “Evensong” is a quiet nighttime poem in which a speaker asks the angels to fold their wings around her and “hush me to sleep.” But sleep in the poem carries a darker meaning. In this episode, I explore Liza Lehmann’s 1916 setting of the poem and the ways her music deepens that ambiguity.

The episode features mezzo-soprano Catherine Wyn-Rogers and pianist Steuart Bedford, Lehmann’s grandson, from an album of Lehmann songs released by Naxos Records.

For more information about Lehmann and her song, see my conversation with Christopher Reynolds, "Exploring Lehmann's 'Evensong,'" published in the Women's Song Forum.

Evensong

Constance Morgan

Fold your white wings, dear Angels,
Fold your white wings;
Dew falls and the nightingale softly now sings.

Across the lawn lie shadows,
So still, so deep,
Dear loving Angels, pass not by,
Hush me to sleep.

Night falls, and whisp’ring goes the wind
Along the sea;
Fold your white wings, dear Angels,
Fold them, dear Angels,
Fold them round me.

In Act 4, Scene 5 of Hamlet, the grieving Ophelia moves in and out of song, singing fragments about death and loss. In this episode, I explore Cheryl Frances-Hoad’s setting of one of those fragments, “They bore him barefaced on the bier,” and the ways her music captures the strange instability of Ophelia’s song—its off-kilter dance rhythms, its collisions of simplicity and dissonance, and the moment when song itself seems to break down under the pressure of grief.

The episode features soprano Ruby Hughes and lutenist Jonas Nordberg, performing Nordberg’s arrangement of the song on Hughes’s 2026 album Amidst the Shades.

They bore him barefaced on the bier;
Hey non nonny, nonny, hey nonny;
And in his grave rain'd many a tear:--
Fare you well, my dove!

And will he not come again?
And will he not come again?
No, no, he is dead:
Go to thy death-bed:
He never will come again.

His beard was as white as snow,
All flaxen was his poll:
He is gone, he is gone,
And we cast away moan:
God ha' mercy on his soul!

From Hamlet, Act 4, Scene 5

The Minotaur is a half man/half bull from Greek mythology that is often viewed as a monster. Cecilia Livingston and Duncan McFarlane's song cycle hyacinth reimagines the Minotaur as a lonely child, imprisoned because of the way he looks, remembering fragments of a life above ground and, above all, remembering his mother.

The episode features a recording of the song by soprano Laura Strickling and pianist Daniel Schlosberg. They will be releasing a professional recording of the cycle this August with the Sono Luminus label.

You can find more information about Cecilia Livingston's music via her website.

This episode explores the first song in a cycle I assembled from stand-alone songs by Pauline Decker—using curation as a form of advocacy. 

It features a world-premiere recording of the song by tenor James Gilchrist and pianist Jocelyn Freeman. A recording of the entire song cycle, also featuring mezzo-soprano Katie Bray, can be found on my website Art Song Augmented. The score to the cycle is available via ClarNan Editions, a division of Classical Vocal Reprints.

For an account of the creation of this cycle, see my essay "Love Letters" from the Women's Song Forum.

Das Blatt im Buche

Anastasius Grün

*Ich seh’ eine alte Dame,

Die ein altes Büchlein hat,

Es liegt in dem alten Buche

Ein altes, dürres Blatt.

So dürr sind wohl auch die Hände,

Die’s einst im Lenz ihr gepflückt.

Was mag wohl die Alte haben,

Sie weint, wenn sie’s erblickt?

The Leaf in the Book

*I see an old woman

Who has a small, old book,

In the old book lies

An old, dried leaf.

The hands that once picked it for her in springtime

Are likely just as dry.

Whatever could be amiss with the old woman,

She weeps whenever she sees it?

(translation by Sharon Krebs)

* The original first line of Grün's poem is "Ich hab' eine alte Muhme" (I have an old aunt). I changed it to "Ich seh' eine alte Dame" (I see an old woman).

I head back to university teaching tomorrow—and I know many teachers and students who are already back at it. In honor of this back-to-school season, here's an episode on a wild and wonderful song by New-York-based composers Lainie Fefferman and Jascha Narveson. In addition to composing a wide variety of music as individual artists, they are part of a synth-pop duo called The Beverage Station. The duo will release a full album, including this song, on May 30, 2025, from Gold Bolus Recordings. 


Labor Day
Lainie Fefferman

Brand-new faces
Familiar halls
Tracking paces
Feel it in my throat

Bones break
Back aches
I could punch through walls

And then there's you

Heart explosions
Arms aglow
Big emotions
Pack up its time to go

Hours come
Seconds go
Cut to my fun walk home

Where there is you

Familiar faces
Brand-new halls
Making spaces
Sharing all I love

Calm comes
Back stroke
Keeping tallies of smiles and cheers

I know I've lost what I'm doing here

On September 27, 2024, Signum Records will release a recording of Rodrigo Ruiz's cycle of seventeen songs, Venus & Adonis, based on William Shakespeare's poem of the same name. In this episode, I dive into one of my favorite songs from the cycle, where Venus takes Adonis's hand and entreats him to open his heart to her.

For more information about Rodrigo Ruiz, you can find him on Instagram, X (formerly Twitter), and LinkTree.

You can also learn more about his songs from this page on my website Art Song Augmented, and from this episode on his setting of a poem by Heinrich Heine.

The recording in this episode features soprano Grace Davidson and pianist George Herbert, who also appear on the forthcoming album of the cycle.

Frosty in Desire
William Shakespeare (adapted by Rodrigo Ruiz)

POET
With this she seizeth on his sweating palm,
and trembling in her passion, calls it balm,
Earth’s sovereign salve to do a goddess good.

Pure shame and awed resistance made him fret,
which bred more beauty in his angry eyes.

So fastened in her arms Adonis lies;
still is he sullen, still he lours and frets,
'twixt crimson shame and anger ashy pale.

Still she entreats, and prettily entreats;
     she red as coals of glowing fire,
     he frosty in desire.

(25, 27–8, 69–70, 68, 75–6, 73, 35–6)

The Mass for the Endangered, by Nathaniel Bellows and Sarah Kirkland Snider, appeals not to God but to nature itself and (in Snider's words) takes the "musical modes of spiritual contemplation" associated with the Latin mass and applies them to "concern for non-human life—animals, plants, and the environment."

The third movement of the Mass, "Alleluia," describes the brutal destruction of the natural world yet at the same time offers a promise of renewal.

The episode features a recording of the movement by Gallicantus, under the direction of Gabriel Crouch; an album of the entire Mass was released in 2020 by New Amsterdam and Nonesuch Records.

If you're interested in learning about another haunting collaboration by Bellows and Snider, check out my podcast episode on "The River," from their song cycle Unremembered.

Alleluia
Nathaniel Bellows

Sea of cradle, foundling,
current, cold and quelled as morning.
Braid of vapored ashes,
shadowed creche, collapsing.

Contour, carve, corrode—
breathe through camphor, coal,
seed each breeze with gold.
Poison, parch, pollute—
plow the coast, the dune,
flow toward constant moon. 

Alleluia

Hearth of stone, of tar, of lava,
shelter shielding mother.
Oh, save us mother!   

She who is sleeping,
Is she who will wake.  

Fracture, foist, defoul—
shatter cliff and shoal,
sand each stone to whole.
Harbored, held, unharmed—
she’ll wake, rise, rejoin,
her daughters and her sons. 

Alleluia 

The title track from Rhiannon Giddens's recent album You're the One—which was just released by Nonesuch Records—is a love song, but not one about two adults; it's about a moment Giddens experienced with her newborn son, pressing her cheek against his and realizing that her world would never be the same again.

In this episode I reference a book by Matt BaileyShea called Lines and Lyrics: An Introduction to Poetry and Song. If you're interested in learning more about how words and music relate in pop songs and art songs and everything in between, I'd urge you check out his book. It's superb, and really accessible to specialists and non-specialists alike.

You're the One
Rhiannon Giddens (the song was cowritten with Lalenja Harrington)

I knew you were the one 
Were my one and only
And I knew 
That you would always know me 
Cause you were the one 
Who kept me from feeling 
So sad and lonely in my life and

I never knew 
Life could be so wonderful
That there could be someone 
Who was so beautiful
And I never knew  
That I could be so free  
To love someone like you and 

I wanna love you forever 
And I’ll be with you  
For worse and for better 
And I never thought I’d fall  
But you’re the one  

I thought my life was drawn  
In shades of gray and  
That washow 
I would live my everyday and  
Aimless no direction found
My destiny was going through the motions of a life and

Then you came along  
With your sweet sweet smile and  
Then you put your cheek  
Right next to mine and  
All those shades of gray slowly turned into a  
New technicolor world and  

I’m gonna love you forever  
And I’ll be with you  
For worse and for better  
And I never thought I’d fall  

And I’m gonna love you forever and  
I’ll be with you for worse and for better  
And I never thought I’d fall  
But you’re the one  

You’re the one 
Your smile contains the sun
Rays of glory  
You’re the one

Have you ever felt as though a single moment—gazing into someone's eyes, listening to a passage of music, looking at a landscape—transports you to another realm? Maurice Bouchor's poem is about just this kind of experience, an experience that the French composer Mel Bonis transforms into a magical sound world that deftly blends Romanticism and Impressionism.

The episode features a recording of the song by Hélène Guilmette and Matin Dubé, from an album called L'Heure Rose.

For more information about Mel Bonis, go to the Mel Bonis website, maintained by Christine Géliot. You can also learn more about her songs at my website Art Song Augmented.

Songe (an excerpt from Vers le pur amour)
Maurice Bouchor

Guidé par de beaux yeux candides,
Dans ma barque féerique aux reflets d'argent fin,
Vers l'amour, je voudrais faire voile sans fin
Sur des rêves bleus et splendides,

Vers l'amour dont le souffle frais
Berce des champs de fleurs dans une île enchantée
Et qui, pour apaiser mon âme tourmentée,
M'ouvrira de saintes forêts.

Et plus tard, quand, loin de la terre,
O Viola ! Guérie des brûlantes langueurs,
Nous irons caresser les songes de nos coeurs
Dans l'île heureuse du mystère.

Dans le libre ciel des esprits,
Quand nous aurons quitté la nature mortelle,
Ne goûterons-nous pas une paix éternelle ?
Rêveusement, tu me souris.

———

Guided by beautiful, innocent eyes,
In my magic boat with reflections of fine silver,
Toward love I would like to sail endlessly
On blue and splendid dreams.

Toward love, whose fresh breath
Cradles fields of flowers in an enchanted island,
And which, to appease my tormented soul,
Will open holy forests to me. 

And later, far from the earth,
O Viola, cured of burning languor,
We will go to caress the dreams of our hearts
On the happy island of mystery.

In the free sky of the spirits,
When we have left our mortal nature,
Will we not taste eternal peace?
Dreamily, you smile at me.