The Parliament of Fowls (2024) for seven musicians on an assortment of Medieval instruments and voices
Commissioned by the Folger Shakespeare Library.
Premiere in February 2024; stay tuned for recording!
Program Note:
Geoffrey Chaucer's 14th-century poem The Parliament of Fowls presents a dream vision in which a diverse assembly of birds convenes to debate matters of love, presided over by the goddess Nature. The central conflict arises as three male eagles vie for the favor of a single female eagle, ultimately resulting in their mutual exclusion from mating. Often thought to be one of the earliest literary works to connect love with St. Valentine’s Day, the poem explores themes of free will, passion and rationality, as well as subtle allegories of social status and courtship. It ends joyously despite its inconclusiveness.
In the introduction to his 1914 book Parlement of Foules, C.M. Drennan describes Chaucer as “above all a humorist [who excelled in creating] a genial, all-pervading kindly humour, which like our Northern sunshine irradiates all objects but neither blisters nor scorches.” I found this humorous warmth that transcends disagreements, uncertainty, and desperation (“[t]he lif so short, the craft so long to lerne”) deeply resonant with my own artistic tendencies.
The elusive comprehensibility of Middle English heightens our awareness of the sounds of words. Chaucer’s vibrant vocabulary—“frosty feeldefare,” “now welcome, somer, with thy sonne softe”—and flexible rhythms were a joy to set. I listened to W.B. Bessinger’s recitation on repeat while composing, as it rang beautifully with both the tongue and the ear.
Prelude is a depiction of a dream vision. The bird whistles mimic the real sounds of birds. To mirror the anthropomorphization in the dream, the bird whistles transform into voices—human songs (or more precisely, humanity’s failed attempt to phonetically imitate bird calls, a communication gap that both perplexed the Medievals and continues to mystifies us.) The music becomes quieter and more introspective as the bagpipe transforms into a recorder, and the lamenting protagonist turns into an observer, a formless being in a dream.
Fowles of Every Kinde sets five stanzas from the middle of The Parliament. Chaucer describes this scene as cacophonous and densely packed, with around 35 bird species introduced. Drawing from Planctus Naturae by Alain de Lille, Chaucer imbues many of the birds with distinct personalities, and physical and behavioral attributes (the goshawk with its “outrageous greediness,” the giant crane with its "trumpet sound," the wedded turtledove with its "true heart," and the “jealous” swan that sings at death). Initially, I attempted to set all the stanzas to the same music, but this approach proved inadequate. The words were too alive to conform to repetitions. Instead, I composed three distinct sections, structured in ABCC'A'. The music amplifies humor and exaggerates the contrasting traits of the birds.
Fieldfares is a simple song that sets the words of not Chaucer, but the 19th-century poet F. W. Moorman. It connects the more substantial second and fourth numbers through the thematic link "feeldefare (fieldfare),” the bird that portends the return of the warm seasons while symbolizing renewal. It is written for Brian Kay, with his beautiful, croony voice in mind.
Toward the very end of the poem, the birds are described to sing a roundel together. The lyrics consist of two stanzas. It is unknown whether this is a translation of an existing song or Chaucer’s creation. (Some manuscript ascribes the opening line to Machaut’s Le Lay de Plour.) My setting, Now welcome, somer, is indifferent to the historical origin of the text and responds to its sweet melancholy and joy. Musically, it blends many harmonic conventions, ranging from medieval to modern. A brief vamp that savors the consonances of the opening line concludes the set.
Commissioned by the Folger Shakespeare Library, The Parliament of Fowls was composed in the summer of 2024 for the members of the Folger Consort. My deep gratitude goes to the directors Christopher Kendall and Robert Eisenstein for their generous encouragement and feedback, and to the members of the ensemble for their flexible musicianship and advice along the way. Special thanks to Dan Meyers, who kindly answered my relentless questions about the wide array of instruments he plays. (J.S.)