There is a lady – Carol Barnett

Composer: Carol Barnett

Text by: ‭Thomas‬‭ Ford‬‭ (c.‬‭ 1580-1648)‬ ‭

Instrumentation: SSAATTBB a cappella

Duration: Approx. 4'45''

Date Written:  1994

Composer’s note: The settings of these Elizabethan-era poems are all sound pictures that use an extended tonality to illustrate a few of the works of Shakespeare’s contemporaries. The harmonies are triadic, but the triads have added notes and travel far afield through each phrase before ending on euphonious cadences.

Through the use of alternating duplets and triplets, “There is a Lady” suggests the unsettled, can’t-focus feeling of being rapturous love.  

“My Love in Her Attire” is a rowdy back-of-the-bus-on-the-way-home-from-the-concert song that nonetheless needs finesse in getting the abrupt dynamic changes just right.  

The unhurried pace of “Care-Charming Sleep” evokes the serene otherworldliness of deep slumber. 

“Orpheus” is a siciliano in gentle but steady tempo. Voices singing “Orpheus…” are calling to him from the other side of the rive Styx.  

“Are They Shadows…”, based on double-diminished scales, should be as light and fleeting as possible. These scales are built with alternating whole and half steps, and there are two of them, depending on whether they start with a whole or half step. If you can sing these scales, you can sing the piece. 

An Elizabethan Garland was written for the Dale Warland Singers in 1994, and premiered by them in February 1995 at the University of St. Thomas Chapel in St. Paul, MN.

text

There is a lady sweet and kind,
Was never face so pleased my mind;
I did but see her passing by,
And yet I love her till I die.

Her gesture, motion, and her smiles,
Her wit, her voice, my heart beguiles,
Beguiles my heart, I know not why,
And yet I love her till I die.

Her free behavior, winning looks,
Will make a lawyer burn his books;
I touched her not, alas! not I,
And yet I love her till I die.

Had I her fast betwixt mine arms,
Judge you that think such sports were harms,
Were’t any harm? no, no! fie, fie!
For I will love her till I die.

Should I remain confined there
So long as Phoebus in his sphere,
I to request, she to deny,
Yet would I love her till I die.

Cupid is winged and doth range,
Her country so my love doth change;
But change she earth, or change she sky,
Yet will I love her till I die.