Symphony No 1

What's the story?

Ralph Vaughan Williams established his name as a composer relatively late in life. He won his first major public success with Toward the Unknown Region, first performed at the Leeds Festival in 1907. This was a setting of a text by the nature-loving mystical American poet Walt Whitman. But four years earlier Vaughan Williams had started work on some other Whitman texts, from the collection Leaves of Grass.

Over the course of six years, this was to become A Sea Symphony, an ambitious work for soprano and baritone soloists along with choir (there were nearly 350 singers at the first performance) and orchestra. Vaughan Williams conducted the first performance in 1910, again at the Leeds Festival, on the day of his 38th birthday.

A Sea Symphony

Text

I. A song for all seas, all ships

Behold, the sea itself,
And on its limitless, heaving breast, the ships:
See, where their white sails, bellying in the
wind, speckle the green and blue,
See, the steamers coming and going, steaming in or out of port,
See, dusky and undulating, the long pennants of smoke.
Behold, the sea itself,
And on its limitless, heaving breast, the ships.

Today a rude brief recitative,
Of ships sailing the seas, each with its special flag or ship-signal,
Of unnamed heroes in the ships – of waves spreading
and spreading far as the eye can reach,
Of dashing spray, and the winds piping and blowing.
And out of these a chant for the sailors of all nations,
Fitful, like a surge.
Of sea-captains young or old, and the mates, and of all intrepid sailors,
Of the few, very choice, taciturn, whom fate
can never surprise nor death dismay.
Picked sparingly without noise by thee old ocean, chosen by thee,
Thou sea that pickest and cullest the race
in time, and unitest the nations,
Suckled by thee, old husky nurse, embodying thee,
Indomitable, untamed as thee.

Flaunt out O sea your separate flags of nations!
Flaunt out visible as ever the various flags and ship-signals!
But do you reserve especially for yourself and for
the soul of man one flag above all the rest,
A spiritual woven signal for all nations,
emblem of man elate above death,
Token of all brave captains and of all intrepid sailors and mates,
And of all that went down doing their duty,
Reminiscent of them, twined from all intrepid captains young or old,
A pennant universal, subtly waving all time, o’er all brave sailors,
All seas, all ships.

II. On the beach at night alone

On the beach at night alone,
As the old mother sways her to and fro singing her husky song,
As I watch the bright stars shining,
I think a thought of the clef of the universes and of the future.
A vast similitude interlocks all,
All distances of space however wide,
All distances of time,
All souls, all living bodies though they be ever so different,
All nations, all identities that have existed or may exist,
All lives and deaths, all of the past, present, future,
This vast similitude spans them, and always has spanned,
And shall forever span them, and shall
compactly hold and enclose them.

III. Scherzo – The waves

After the sea-ship, after the whistling winds,
After the white-gray sails taut to their spars and ropes,
Below, a myriad, myriad waves hastening, lifting up their necks,
Tending in ceaseless flow toward the track of the ship,
Waves of the ocean bubbling and gurgling, blithely prying,
Waves, undulating waves, liquid, uneven, emulous waves,
Toward that whirling current, laughing and buoyant with curves,
Where the great vessel sailing and tacking displaced the surface,
Larger and smaller waves in the spread of the ocean yearnfully flowing,
The wake of the sea-ship after she passes,
flashing and frolicsome under the sun,
A motley procession with many a fleck of foam and many fragments,
Following the stately and rapid ship, in the wake of following.

IV. The explorers

O vast Rondure, swimming in space,
Covered all over with visible power and beauty,
Alternate light and day and the teeming spiritual darkness,
Unspeakable high processions of sun and
moon and countless stars above,
Below, the manifold grass and waters,
With inscrutable purpose, some hidden prophetic intention,
Now first it seems my thought begins to span thee.

Down from the gardens of Asia descending,
Adam and Eve appear, then their myriad progeny after them,
Wandering, yearning, with restless explorations,
With questionings, baffled, formless, feverish, with never-happy hearts,
With that sad incessant refrain,
Wherefore unsatisfied soul?
Whither O mocking life?
Ah who shall soothe these feverish children?
Who justify these restless explorations?
Who speak the secret of impassive earth?
Wherefore unsatisfied soul?
Whither O mocking life?

Yet soul be sure the first intent remains, and shall be carried out,
Perhaps even now the time has arrived.
After the seas are all crossed,
After the great captains have accomplished their work,
After the noble inventors,
Finally shall come the poet worthy that name,
The true son of God shall come singing his songs.

O we can wait no longer,
We too take ship O soul,
Joyous we too launch out on trackless seas,
Fearless for unknown shores on waves of ecstasy to sail,
Amid the wafting winds, thou pressing me to thee, I thee to me, O soul,
Caroling free, singing our song of God,
Chanting our chant of pleasant exploration.

O soul thou pleasest me, I thee,
Sailing these seas or on the hills, or waking in the night,
Thoughts, silent thoughts, of Time and Space
and Death, like waters flowing,
Bear me indeed as through the regions infinite,
Whose air I breathe, whose ripples hear, lave me all over,
Bathe me O God in thee, mounting to thee,
I and my soul to range in range of thee.

O thou transcendent,
Nameless, the fibre and the breath,
Light of the light, shedding forth universes, thou centre of them.
Swiftly I shrivel at the thought of God,

At Nature and its wonders, Time and Space and Death,
But that I, turning, call to thee O soul, thou actual Me,
And lo, thou gently masterest the orbs,
Thou matest Time, smilest content at Death,
And fillest, swellest full the vastness of Space.

Greater than stars or suns,
Bounding O soul thou journeyest forth;
Away O soul! hoist instantly the anchor!
Cut the hawsers – haul out – shake out every sail!

Sail forth – steer for the deep waters only.
Reckless O soul, exploring, I with thee, and thou with me,
For we are bound where mariner has not yet dared to go,
And we will risk the ship, ourselves and all.
O my brave soul!
O farther, farther sail!
O daring joy, but safe! are they not all the seas of God?
O farther, farther, farther sail!

Walt Whitman (1819–92)

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The London Symphony Chorus

The London Symphony Chorus was founded in 1966 to complement the work of the London Symphony Orchestra. The LSC has performed with leading orchestras, frequently with the LSO and also with the Berlin Philharmonic, Vienna Philharmonic, Leipzig Gewandhaus, Los Angeles Philharmonic and New York Philharmonic. Last season’s concerts included Felix Mendelssohn’s Elijah with Sir Antonio Pappano; Leoš Janáček’s Jenůfa with Sir Simon Rattle; Anton Bruckner’s Te Deum with Nathalie Stutzmann; and Gustav Mahler’s Symphony No 3 with Michael Tilson Thomas. The Chorus is an independent charity run by its members. It is committed to artistic excellence, to equality and diversity and the vocal development of its members. It engages actively in the musical life of London – seeking new members and audiences as well as commissioning and performing new works.

Programme Notes Edward Bhesania. Edward Bhesania is a music journalist and editor who writes for The Stage, The Strad and the Guildhall School of Music & Drama.
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