Though Amayllis Dance in Green by William Byrd
In this context, and after a few posts last week on more serious topics and pieces, I thought I'd like to share something light and fun. It's a part-song called 'Though Amaryllis dance in green', by William Byrd (c1540-1623). The notoriously serious (and litigious) Byrd has here created a rocking, danceable song for five voices which seems somehow to celebrate romantic rejection: To lose is evidence of having at least been in the game, and our protagonist's vow to 'love no more' seems quite unlikely to be realized.
What makes the piece special--and very fun to hear and to sing--is the liveliness of Byrd's setting. The five parts are extremely independent of each other, each filled with syncopations and leaps, like five dancers improvising, individually but in relation to each other. It makes me think of this wonderful painting by Frank Schomer Lichtner. The frequent voice-crossings, hemiolas, alternations of quick and slower notes, and moto perpetua all combine to make a veritable Party-in-a-Song.
I'm attaching the usual materials, including a score and a nice recording by the King's Singers. In addition, here are three other recordings you might enjoy, each providing a different take on this über-fun piece:
The soprano Emma Kirkby, singing with a consort of viols;
The Cambridge Singers, directed by John Rutter;
The B-Five Recorder Consort, with an unnamed soprano.
Note: Don't be surprised if you end up dancing around the room a bit!
In this context, and after a few posts last week on more serious topics and pieces, I thought I'd like to share something light and fun. It's a part-song called 'Though Amaryllis dance in green', by William Byrd (c1540-1623). The notoriously serious (and litigious) Byrd has here created a rocking, danceable song for five voices which seems somehow to celebrate romantic rejection: To lose is evidence of having at least been in the game, and our protagonist's vow to 'love no more' seems quite unlikely to be realized.
What makes the piece special--and very fun to hear and to sing--is the liveliness of Byrd's setting. The five parts are extremely independent of each other, each filled with syncopations and leaps, like five dancers improvising, individually but in relation to each other. It makes me think of this wonderful painting by Frank Schomer Lichtner. The frequent voice-crossings, hemiolas, alternations of quick and slower notes, and moto perpetua all combine to make a veritable Party-in-a-Song.
I'm attaching the usual materials, including a score and a nice recording by the King's Singers. In addition, here are three other recordings you might enjoy, each providing a different take on this über-fun piece:
The soprano Emma Kirkby, singing with a consort of viols;
The Cambridge Singers, directed by John Rutter;
The B-Five Recorder Consort, with an unnamed soprano.
Note: Don't be surprised if you end up dancing around the room a bit!