Thursday, April 7, 2011

Liza Lehmann: Composer

See previous post for background information about Liza Lehmann

Liza Lehmann’s song cycle, In a Persian Garden, uses texts from the English version of the Persian text Rubáiyát by Hakim Omar, translated and rephrased by Edward Fitzgerald. Fitzgerald took twenty years to create his own version and interpretation of these poems from the year 1100, all of which meditate on life, death, and spirituality[1]. In an article reviewing the work, Professor Edward Dickinson from The Musician, based in Philadelphia, wrote, “…this collection of verses now stands as the finest elegiac poem that has appeared in English since In Memorian, which it even surpasses in felicity of diction, perfection of form, boldness of imagery, and in its attitude of unfaltering courage in the face of the most appalling mysteries of reality[2].”

Lehmann’s husband, Herbert Bedford, suggested that parts of the Rubáiyát would make a wonderful cantata[3]. After looking over the texts, Lehmann felt that a song cycle would make a better form for the poetry. Within a few weeks, she was able to sketch most of the composition[4]. The work is written for soprano, contralto, tenor, and bass with piano accompaniment. There are sections of recitative and aria for the various parts, and some sections of quartets and duets. Lehmann decided on the title In a Persian Garden because the Persian word for “garden” is the same as the word for “poem”[5]. At first, she had difficulty getting it published – most publishers thought it was too difficult and that “…they saw no possibility of there being a demand for chamber music involving so many singers”[6]. It was eventually published by Metzler and Company in 1896[7]. Shortly after the first performance, Hermann Klein of The Sunday Times said, “The music was quite a revelation – not of mere talent, but of unsuspected power and variety of expression, of depth of melodic charm and technical resource”[8].

The poetry is narrative, and each section of the piece makes sense following the previous section. It focuses on the loss of youth and life, no matter what one does to prevent it. Lehmann’s setting begins and ends with all of the singers in a quartet. The opening piece states,

Wake! For the Sun who scatter’d into flight

The Stars before him from the field of night,

Drives night along with them from Heav’n, and strikes

The Sultan’s turret with a shaft of Light.

The final piece ends,

Alas, that Spring should vanish with the Rose,

That Youth’s sweet-scented Manuscript should close!

The Nightingale that in the Branches sang,

Ah, whence and whither flown again, who knows?[9]

Throughout the music, Lehmann indicates what various phrases mean. For example, in the second tenor solo, she defines “Irám” as “a garden planted by King Shaddád, and now sunk somewhere in the sands of Arabia”[10]. In a contralto solo, she explains the line, “Ah! not a drop that from our Cups we throw For earth to drink of” as “The custom of throwing a little wine on the ground before drinking still continues in Persia”[11]. Though Lehmann took on the arduous task of setting poetry that references a land she admittedly never visited[12], she clearly did extensive research when setting these poems.

I find that this song cycle is imitated in modern music with John Harbison’s Mirabai Songs. It is an extremely similar example – a Westerner (Harbison or Lehmann) taking English versions of Eastern poetry (Mirabai or Omar) and setting them as Western music with a mildly Eastern feel. A major difference between these two cycles is that the Mirabai Songs focus on the narrative of one individual, performed by one singer. Lehmann’s cycle is more of a collective experience – it is sung by soprano, contralto, tenor, and bass. The text focuses on the universal experience of life and death, whereas Mirabai focuses on the individual experiences of one woman who was ostracized yet empowered by her own convictions.

Mirabai was an independent thinker living in a culture where women followed rules created primarily by men. Throughout her life, she sang songs, wrote poetry, and danced in honor of the god Krishna, whom she considered her husband. Krishna, though one of many gods, can often represent the one, singular God. He is said to have lived amongst cowherds and shepherdesses, eventually saving them from tragedy by lifting up the mountain on which they lived.[13] Her religious devotion and spiritual connection with Krishna makes her one of India’s most recognized poet-saints.[14] She was born into a wealthy family in Kudaki, a northern region of India, in 1498.[15] Early on, she was fascinated by Krishna and carried a figure of him with her everywhere.[16] At 27, her husband died in battle after a few short years of marriage. In her culture, wives were expected to commit Sati, the tradition of a wife throwing herself on her husband’s funeral pyre. Mira refused to do this, as she recognized Krishna as her husband, not the man who had died.[17] After his death, her conservative family looked down on her for rejecting the ritual. They did not like her association with men, though they were religious men.[18] They slandered her, abused her, and even tried to kill her. There is a story that her family sent her a vial of poison, telling her it was liquid from a statue of Krishna. She gladly drank it, and her faith turned the poison to ambrosia in her throat and made her stronger.[19] Outside of the house, she was treated much in the same way. The community snubbed her for her religious practices, leaving her on the outskirts of society.[20]

One can see through this description of Mirabai that her story could never be the same as the story told in the Rubáiyát. It is too personal, too individualized, to be as universally understood as the questions of life and death. However, Mirabai’s narrative is relatable to any person who has ever been criticized for her beliefs or actions, simply because they lie beyond the realm of societal conventions. Though these two cycles use text with different intentions, they are both foreign ideas being seen through a different lens.

In my paper, I hope to compare these two cycles on a more in-depth basis, or perhaps focus on one song from each set.



[1] Lehmann, Liza. The Life of Liza Lehmann. 80.

[2] Ibid.

[3] Ibid. 70.

[4] Ibid.

[5] Ibid. 72.

[6] Ibid. 75.

[7] Ibid. 76.

[8] Ibid. 77.

[9] Lehmann, Liza. In a Persian Garden.

[10] Ibid. 9.

[11] Ibid. 18.

[12] Lehmann. The Life of Liza Lehmann. 88.

[13] Bly, Robert and Jane Hirschfield. Mirabai: Ecstatic Poems. Boston: Beacon Press, 2004. 71.

[14] Ibid. 67.

[15] Pandey, S.M. and Norman Zide. Mirabai and her contributions to the bhakti movement. History of Religions 5/1 (Summer). 55.

[16] Bly. Mirabai. 76.

[17] Bialosky, Marshall. Review of Mirabai songs, by John Harbison. Notes 48/2 (December). 691.

[18] Pandey. Mirabai. 56.

[19] Bly. Mirabai. 77.

[20] Pandey. Mirabai. 59.

No comments:

Post a Comment