I wanted to write honest an unpretentious music, with a text that reflected this. The text would be using almost colloquial language, like the one spoken between parent and child. I was thinking of the word ‘simplicity’ to describe the songs, but, even though the material is simple and used very economically (even sparsely), or perhaps exactly because of this, the emotional charge of Family Songs has become more intense and meaningful.
The work consists of four songs, each with a clear form based on contemporary popular songwriting. 1.) Herinnering (Recollection) is a poem by Dutch poet Martinus Nijhoff. The writer recalls how he used to sit on his mother’s lap as a little boy, looking out the window into the night, singing bedtime songs. The echoing 3D accompaniment is tender, nostalgic but playfully reminiscing the childhood memory. 2.) Ik ben de wolf (I am the wolf) is a text I wrote myself less than a week before the premiere to replace one I couldn’t secure a copyright agreement for. The result ended up providing a more personal touch. A father working late at home is distracted by his son who needs to go to sleep but instead wants to horse around playing wolf. The father has to catch him, after which he needs to reaffirm his son that the wolf has been chased away, so he can safely go to sleep. The insistent staccato notes in the soprano are echoed in the orchestra to represent the little tyrant demanding his dad’s attention. 3.) Het kind (the child) is a poem by Dutch poet Hanny Michaelis about a mother who chose never to be one. She describes how she sees her unborn child play in the sun. Musically this fine line between the rational choice not to be a parent and the emotions surfacing from the motherly instincts is translated into a repeated monotone on which the soprano balances the words. 4.) Chrysalis, a term describing a stage of not yet being fully-grown (a cocoon in biology), is using a fictitious text I wrote about the mother of Italian painter Amedeo Modigliani. She sees the potential of her son take shape in her imagination, whilst seeing him die of poor health, which was ascribed to a bohemian lifestyle of drugs and alcohol. After his death, his pregnant wife, to whom he had been clutching in bed for weeks, jumped off a fifth-floor window. This sparsely orchestrated song has a folk-like character, with a contemporary take on both the baroque da-capo aria and the medieval ars-nova style.
1.Herinnering (Dutch text Martinus Nijhoff)
2.Ik ben de wolf (Dutch text Edward Top)
3.Het kind (Dutch text Hanny Michaelis)
4.Chrysalis (English text Edward Top)
Song 4. Chrysalis (based on the life of Italian painter Modigliani, from the fictive perspective of his mother)
I think of my boy
When I look in the eyes
Of the painting
Beautiful son
Your character still so unformed
Is your long face merely a mask
Hiding poor health and obsession?
Beautiful son
Your linear forms like an African sculpture
He was found fatally ill
In bed deliriously clutching
To his pregnant consort.
Struck down by death
Looks over his shoulder
Sees to his relief
He won’t be alone
A man, my boy
At his moment of glory
To his horror: his inconsolable spouse
His devoted companion
With his unborn child, in his steps,
Thrown from a fifth-floor window
Beautiful son of mine
My butterfly always will be
Stubbornly showing a love of wine
Hiding what’s known to me.
Beautiful son
My baby forever will be
You cursed prince of vagabonds!
We’ll wait,
What is inside
We’ll have to wait and see.
Edward Top 2014
REVIEW
"Top’s pre-performance description of his style as moving toward a ‘new simplicity' belied the work’s depth and power. This is wonderful music which explores an extraordinary range of emotional territory, touchingly personal and thus universally compelling." Vancouver Sun, February 24, 2014.
NEDERLANDS
Song 2. Ik ben de wolf
“Papa kom nou hier.”
De deur staat op een kier.
Ik hoor zijn stem in bed.
Ik ben nog bezig met iets en afgeleid.
Afgeleid door mijn zoon. Ik zeg: “Ga slapen!”
Hij wil geen verhaaltje.
Ook geen liedje.
Ik ben de wolf en moet hem pakken.
Wat is het, dat ik doe waar hij zo bang voor is?
Dat roofdier met die knauw des doods.
Als ik hem oppeuzel
sla mijn armen om zijn tengere lijfje
en kietel zijn buikje met mijn neus.
Hij hikt en giert van plezier.
Moet hem dan op’t hartje drukken
dat de wolf is verjaagd.
Edward Top 2014