Songs for a Winter's Evening
(1995) for soprano & orchestra
Duration: 21'
Soprano; 2(pic).2(ca).22/3210/perc/hp/str
Text: Robert Burns
Language: English
Commissioned by the 17th Dumfries & Galloway Arts Festival & the 1st Burns International Festival

World Premiere:
1 June 1996, Easterbrook Hall, Dumfries, Scotland
Marie McLaughlin, soprano
BBC Scottish Symphony Orchestra
Joseph Swensen, conductor

Publisher:  Novello & Co Ltd

Critical Acclaim:

The new work was Thea Musgrave's Songs for a Winter's Evening, receiving its first London performance. ……. The song-cycle was typically well-made. It is a present-day equivalent of Schumann's Frauen Lieben und Leben, a cycle of seven poems by Robert Burns that follow a girl's awakening sexual maturity. The flavour of Scottish traditional music that lies behind the first songs gives way to a more complex style as the emotions of the girl become more involved, erupting in unbridled passion in the penultimate song. Musgrave makes sure that the singer can be heard, and soprano Lisa Milne put across the words with plenty of bite.

The orchestral writing is clearheaded and has a good sense of atmosphere, for example, capturing the arrival of summer with a palpably warm colouring. All told the cycle works as one knew it would….
— Richard Fairman, The Financial Times

Musgrave's style weaves filigree detail among strong thematic ideas, tensing the mood in the first song from unease to anguish, then sailing us to warmer climes for "Summer's pleasant times".

The story line, such as it is, traces the complex blossoming of a young girl's dawning sexuality, delicately shaded by Musgrave, with lashings of colour and a lone percussionist doing the rounds without as much as touching the timps. The third song, a breezy dance movement, features nifty work from the piccolo:…..
— Rob Cowan, The Independent

It isn't often one spots and instant classic….Songs for a Winter's Evening may seem on a relatively modest scale…. But their power is profoundly compelling.

The words - in Lallan Scots - are by Robert Burns, chosen by Miss Musgrave to create an arc of feeling from love's first bloom to its graceful close, via flirtation, consummation, and the pain of rejection. And for this emotional journey she's brought a magic no less potent than that of Burns himself. …she builds glorious edifices of sound…Her instrumental textures are ravishing; the interplay between voice and orchestra….. is scored with expressive clarity.
— Michael Church, The Scotsman

Musgrave's cycle sets seven of Burns's texts… She retains the tunes that Burns used. Sometimes they appear unadorned on the music's surface, sometimes they are ingeniously embedded within Musgrave's lucid, evocative textures. Her judgment is remarkable….
Stephen Pettit, The Daily Telegraph

……a real gem: Musgrave's glorious, sultry and sexy settings of Burns poems… highly charged, erotically languid music…
— Michael Tumelty, The Herald. [Glasgow]

Composer's Note:

This commission, to celebrate Robert Burns on the occasion of the 200th anniversary of his death, has caused me to revisit my Scottish heritage. As much as this heritage is inevitably part of my life, so, in this work, the tunes to which Burns wrote his inimitable poems are embedded in the musical texture — sometimes in the foreground, sometimes in the background.

The seven poems were chosen very carefully with a view to creating a song cycle describing the "events" in the life of a woman, from the flirtatious young girl, to the young woman betrayed, to her eventual fulfillment in mature love which has lasted many a year.

The challenge was how to integrate Burns' 18th century world with our own, both emotionally and musically. Musically this meant finding a melodic and harmonic language, that, though recognizing and incorporating the original tunes, would nevertheless be heard from a contemporary viewpoint. The past can only ever be revisited with our own contemporary imagination and sensibility.

Texts:

SONGS FOR A WINTER'S EVENING

                        I.

I am my mammy's ae bairn,
  Wi' unco folk I weary,Sir,
And lying in a man's bed,
  I'm fley'd it make me irie, Sir.
I'm o'er young, I'm o'er young,
  I'm o'er young to marry yet;
I'm o'er young, 'twad be a sin
  To tak me frae my mammy yet.

Hallowmass is come and gane,
  The nights are lang in winter, Sir;
And you an' I in ae bed,
  In truth, I dare na venture, Sir.

Fu' loud and shrill the frosty wind
  Blows thro' the leafless timmer, Sir;
But if ye come this gate again,
  I'll older be gin simmer, Sir.

ae bairn=only child:unco=strange:fley'd=scared:irie=afraid:
Hallowmass=All Saints' Day:timmer=timber:gin simmer=by summer.

                   II

Summer's a pleasant time,
Flow'rs of ev'ry colour;
The water rins o'er the heugh,
And I long for my true lover!

Ay waukin, O,
Waukin still and weary:
Sleep I can get nane,
For thinking on my Dearie.

When I sleep I dream,
When I wauk I'm irie;
Sleep I can get nane
For thinking on my Dearie.

Lanely night comes on,
A' the lave are sleepin:
I think on my bonnie lad
And I bleer my een wi' greetin.

heugh=bank:waukin=waking:irie=afraid:lave=others:
bleer=blur:e'en=eyes:greetin=weeping.

                         III

O, whistle an' I'll come to ye, my lad!
O, whistle an' I'll come to ye, my lad!
Tho' father an' mother an' a' should gae mad,
O, whistle an' I'll come to ye, my lad!

But warily tent when ye come to court me,
And come nae unless the back-yett be a-jee;
Syne up the back-style, and let naebody see,
And come as ye were na comin to me.
And come as ye were na comin to me.

At kirk, or at market, when'er ye meet me,
Gang by me as tho' that ye car'd na a flie;
But steal me a blink o' your bonnie black e'e,
Yet look as ye were na looking to me.
Yet look as ye were na looking to me.

Ay vow and protest that ye care na for me,
And whiles ye may lightly my beauty awee;
But court na anither, tho' jokin ye be,
For fear that she wile your fancy frae me.
For fear that she wile your fancy frae me.

warily tent=act warily:yett=gate:a-jee=ajar:syne=then:kirk=church:
gang=go:na a flie=not a fly:blink=glance:e'e=eye:awee=belittle:
wile=entice.

                   IV

Ca' the yowes to the knowes,
Ca' them where the heather grows,
Ca' them where the burnie rows,
  My bonnie dearie.

As I gaed down the water-side
There I met my shepherd lad,
He row'd me sweetly in his plaid,
  And he ca'd me his dearie.

Will ye gang down the water-side
And see the waves sae sweetly glide
Beneath the hazels spreading wide
  The moon it shines fu' clearly.

I was bred up at nae sic school
My shepherd-lad to play the fool;
And a' the day to sit in dool,
  And naebody to see me.
Ca the yowes...

Ye sall get gowns and ribbons meet,
Calf leather shoon upon your feet,
And in my arms ye'se lie and sleep
  And ye sall be my dearie.

If ye'll but stand to what ye've said,
I'se gang wi' you, my shepherd lad,
And ye may rowe me in your plaid,
  And I sall be your dearie.

While waters wimple to the sea;
While day blinks in the lift sae high;
Till clay-cold death sall blind my e'e,
  Ye sall be my dearie.

Ca'=drive:yowes=ewes:knowes=knolls:burnie=brooklet:
rowes=ripples:gaed=went:rowed=wrapped:gang=go:ye'se=
you shall:wimple=twist:lift=sky:

                    V

Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon,
  How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair;
How can ye chant, ye little birds,
  And I sae weary fu' o' care!
Thou'll break my heart, thou warbling bird,
  That wantons thro' the flowering thorn:
Thou minds me o' departed joys,
  Departed never to return.

Oft hae I rov'd by bonnie Doon,
  To see the rose and woodbine twine
And ilka bird sang o' its love,
  And fondly sae did I o' mine.
Wi' lightsome heart I pu'd a rose,
  Fu' sweet upon its thorny tree;
And my false lover stole my rose,
  But ah! he left the thorn wi' me.

braes=slopes:hae=have:ilke=each:pu'd=plucked.

                    VI

Jamie come try me,
Jamie come try me,
If thou would win my love
Jamie come try me,

If thou should ask my love,
Could I deny thee?
If thou would win my love
Jamie come try me,

If thou should kiss me, love,
Who could espy thee?
If thou wad be my love,
Jamie come try me.

Jamie come try me,
Jamie come try me,
If thou would win my love
Jamie come try me,

                    VII

John Anderson my jo, John,
When we were first acquent;
Your locks were like the raven,
Your bonny brow was brent;
But now your brow is bald, John,
Your locks are like the snow;
But blessings on your frosty pow,
John Anderson my jo.

John Anderson my jo, John,
We clamb the hill the gither;
And mony a canty day, John,
We had wi' ane anither:
Now we maun totter down, John,
And hand in hand we'll go:
And sleep the gither at the foot,
John Anderson my jo.

acquent=acquainted:brent=smooth,unwrinkled:pow=pate:
clamb=climbed:the gither=together:mony=many:
canty=pleasant:ane anither=one another:maun=must.

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