A Feather in a Shell

A Feather in a Shell Three Songs on Original Poems

We live in a musical culture that is entranced by the three minute  song.   We project our lives onto the voice and image of the singer who perfectly renders the emotion that we long to understand within our souls.    I do not see myself as a song writer and these poems were not written with the intention of setting them to music but the music came to me so set the poems to the music.   The poems were  written over the course of 5 years and each poem is a reflection  on an experience in my own life.   A Feather in a Shell was written in the middle of the night after I learned that a friend had died, the first death of a someone other than family that I had  experienced.  Amish Sarabande  is a real description of the annual ploughing ritual that my Amish neighbor engaged in when spring finally arrives  in the Driftless region that I have lived in for the last twenty years.  Heaven’s Gate was inspired by the halcyon days of summer in full bloom on our 30 acres homestead in Wisconsin.  Ode to a Orb Weaver  pays homage to the sacred  connection between mother and child.

So, these poems tell personal stories that I know well and  it was not long before  I began to hear the music behind the words. Finally, because I wrote the words I knew exactly what I wanted to say musically so the composing seemed almost effortless. All of these settings are for low voice, but the songs can be transposed to any pitch level upon request. 

Amish Plough Sarabande  

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(Paola Rose, alto; William Grosvenor Neil, piano; Rome, Italy 2015)

Like the slow and steady pulse of a pocket watch, held neatly in the vest pocket, the blades of the plough silently slip into the black earth.
And with each measured pace of the horses gait, the soil is sliced, drawn up and then gently laid down in a dark wake of terra sea.
And from this distance, the harnessed team, plough, and ploughman float serenely in perfect harmony with horizon and meadow.

Heaven’s Gate

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(midi audio of score)

In heaven love is a daily feast that lasts all day and into the night. we make due on earth, wrapping up what unfulfilled desires we have left at the end of the day, and storing them in the seamless chambers of our dreams.
I am in a room brightly lit by sunshine. When I touch the keys of a piano, The notes turn into the bright and delicious blooms of flowers.
You mold your hands around the warm faces of your children, They turn to delicate pieces of terra cotta that you will fire in the kiln of your womb.
We share a bowl of raspberries and milk from the sheep and goats that graze in the distant meadow.
The bees fly through the grass, dressed in the silk of corn, steal through the open window and drink from the bowl you have left.
They suck the drops of red blood-juice from our finger tips, and before they dart out the window and journey to the sun, they visit each petal of the flowering notes hanging in the air.

A Feather in a Shell

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A Feather in a Shell

(Jean Strazdes, mezzo soprano, Exeter Academy, 2019)

The dead rise before us floating on the swollen air. Their voices frozen in mid air are now mute behind closed doors.
Their eyes are lost gazing into smoky mirrors that capture The last flicker of sun as it winds through old dusty rooms and out the back door.
Exhausted from their joyful farm days, they delighted in their evening meals, the conversation into the night, the surrender to lamp lit beds.
Black and white photos slip from the back of old books.
Their souls ask to be carried from where they fell to the edge of town. Let us guide them to where the wind tears the black clouds above the trees.
They will float to the highest branch of the oldest tree on the darkest night of the year, then disappear.
We knew all along that the music had reached its rallentando, the slowing dancers, now locked time were taken by a stiffness that diminished them to stillness.
Now a quiet settles in our ears like a feather in a shell.

Purchase Score

Word and Music Copyright 2015 William Neil

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