Samuel Foxon

2024 marks the centenary of the death of Sir Charles Villiers Stanford, one of the most eminent composers in the early 20^th Century with a well-deserved musical legacy. His time as a Professor of composition at the Royal College of Music saw him mentoring some of the most iconic voices of early twentieth-century British music, including Vaughan Williams, Gustav Holst, and Herbert Howells. Stanford’s own works span seven symphonies, five concertos, chamber music, operas, and choral masterpieces.

Though much of his secular music has gradually faded from regular concert programming, Stanford’s contributions to church music have remained central to the British choral repertoire. His anthems, canticles, and motets are revered, having become integral to the repertory of cathedral and church choirs throughout the United Kingdom. Knighted in 1902, Stanford’s legacy endures, woven into the very fabric of British music.

Stanford was born in Dublin in 1852, and showed exceptional musical promise from an early age, no doubt helped by a succession of teachers in violin, piano, organ, and composition. Despite the wishes of his father for him to become a lawyer, he was awarded an organ scholarship at Queen’s College Cambridge to compliment his study of Classics. After being awarded his degree (after ranking 65th out of 66), he turned his focus to a career in music. Initially employed as organist for Trinty College Cambridge, he later ventured to further study at Leipzig Conservatoire, one of Europe’s most respected musical institutions for much of the 19^th century.

By the age of 30, Stanford had returned to England, stepping into a distinguished role as professor of composition and conductor of the orchestra at the newly founded Royal College of Music in London. This appointment marked the beginning of a lifelong commitment to teaching and to nurturing a new generation of British composers—a legacy that would define Stanford’s career and shape the future of British music.

Stanford’s Three Motets, Op. 38, for unaccompanied choir, was published in 1905, although it is thought to have originated in 1892, which coincides with his departure from his role as organist at Trinity College. These motets were dedicated to his successor, Alan Gray, and to the college choir – a trinity of motets for the choir of Trinity College.

The first motet, Justorum Animae, is in three sections. The first and last tell of God’s mercy toward the righteous, contrasting vividly with the central section, which illustrates the torment that would be faced in the absence of such mercy. Beati quorum via is written in six parts, with divided soprano and bass sections that lend it a contemplative, meditative quality that gives this piece a reputation as one of his finest unaccompanied works. Coelos ascendit hodie, is written for Ascensiontide and employs a double choir with dramatic antiphony. Its climactic “Amen” begins as a single note, expanding gradually into a resplendent eight-part chord.

The sudden passing of Mary E. Coleridge, a gifted novelist and poet, at age 45 left an indelible mark on those who knew her, including Stanford. When she succumbed to illness, Coleridge left behind a trove of unpublished manuscripts and poetry, much of which was published posthumously in 1908. Stanford set a total of sixteen of her poems in choral settings, eight of which form Eight Partsongs, Op. 119, extoling themes of natural beauty and transience.

The Witch follows the more traditional idiom of a part song, with its strophic, homophonic setting. The eponymous witch is tired from the road, and wishes to be invited in to the warmth of the indoors – the final verse suggests that that Witch’s presence ensures that the warmth is now no more. The Blue Bird is often considered to be the Jewel in the crown of English secular music. Coleridge originally published the poem in French as L’Oiseau Bleu, but it is the English version the Stanford presents. The Soprano soloist, floating above as the blue bird soars over the landscape below serves to strengthen the notion of fleeting beauty. The Train is not a subtle song – vividly depicting the thunderous advances of the railway through the night – making the world an ever-smaller place with its speed. The Inkbottle (perhaps ironically)serves a warning on the dangers of writing – Stanford portrays the mischief of love letters with playful rhythms, and the colours through chromatic harmony. The warning – don’t believe all you see in ink – is perhaps still relevant today as it was in the turn of the 19^th century.

Oh! for a closer walk with God draws its text and tune from the Scottish Psalter (1635) and demonstrates Stanford’s mastery of harmony and organ writing particularly in the highly expressive final verse with its combination of fervour and spiritual confidence.

Stanford’s most enduring choral works are his Canticles – a setting of texts for the Anglican services of Matins and Evensong. He wrote his Service in B♭ Major, including the Magnificat (song of Mary) and Nunc Dimittis (song of Simeon) in 1879 when he was again organist of Trinity College. Its grandiloquent nature and memorable melodies leave this setting as a firm favourite amongst choral musicians.   

The First World War had a profound impact on Sir Charles Stanford, both personally and professionally. Deeply unsettled by the threat of air raids, he relocated from London to Windsor for safety. The war brought tragedy to many of his former students, with whom he had forged strong bonds during his long tenure at the Royal College of Music. Among them, Arthur Bliss was wounded, Ivor Gurney suffered lasting effects from a gas attack, and George Butterworth was tragically killed in action. For Lo I Raise Up represents Stanford’s stance on war, expressing his hopes for Britain’s eventual deliverance. Stanford turned to the Old Testament prophecies of Habakkuk, crafting a poignant analogy between the prophet’s vision and the wartime devastation he witnessed. The opening reflects the turmoil and despair brought about by war, yet amidst the relentless violence, Stanford evokes Habakkuk’s promise of peace and redemption. In a powerful shift to F major, the work culminates with a climactic statement of faith and resilience: “We shall not die.” Here, Stanford not only captures a moment of hope but also offers a testament to the enduring spirit of a nation longing for peace and renewal.

Samuel Foxon. November 2024

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Texts

Justorum animae

Beati Quorum Via

Coelos ascendit hodie

The Witch

I have walked a great while over the snow,
And I am not tall nor strong.
My clothes are wet, and my teeth are set,
And the way was hard and long.
I have wandered over the fruitful earth,
But I never came here before.
Oh, lift me over the threshold, and let me in at the door!

The cutting wind is a cruel foe.
I dare not stand in the blast.
My hands are stone, and my voice a groan,
And the worst of death is past.
I am but a little maiden still,
My little white feet are sore.
Oh, lift me over the threshold, and let me in at the door!

Her voice was the voice that women have,
Who plead for their heart’s desire.
She came—she came—and the quivering flame
Sunk and died in the fire.
It never was lit again on my hearth
Since I hurried across the floor,
To lift her over the threshold, and let her in at the door.

The Blue Bird

The lake lay blue below the hill.
O’er it, as I looked, there flew
Across the waters, cold and still,
A bird whose wings were palest blue.

The sky above was blue at last,
The sky beneath me blue in blue.
A moment, ere the bird had passed,
It caught his image as he flew.

The Train

A green eye—and a red—in the dark.
Thunder—smoke—and a spark.

It is there—it is here—flashed by.
Whither will the wild thing fly?

It is rushing, tearing thro’ the night,
Rending her gloom in its flight.

It shatters her silence with shrieks.
What is it the wild thing seeks?

Alas! for it hurries away
Them that are fain to stay.

Hurrah! for it carries home
Lovers and friends that roam.

Where are you, Time and Space?
The world is a little place,

Your reign is over and done,
You are one.

The Inkbottle

Well of blackness, all defiling,
Full of flattery and reviling,
Ah, what mischief hast thou wrought
Out of what was airy thought,
What beginnings and what ends,
Making and dividing friends!

Colours of the rainbow lie
In thy tint of ebony;
Many a fancy have I found
Bright upon that sombre ground;
Cupid plays along the edge,
Skimming o’er it like a midge;
Niobe in turn appears,
Thinning it with crystal tears.

False abuse and falser praise,
Falsest lays and roundelays!
One thing, one alone, I think,
Never yet was found in ink; —
Truth lies not, the truth to tell,
At the bottom of this well!

O, For A Closer Walk With God

O for a closer walk with God,
A calm and heavenly frame;
A light to shine upon the road
That leads me to the Lamb!

Return, O holy dove, return,
Sweet messenger of rest;
I hate the sins that made thee mourn,
And drove thee from my breast.

So shall my walk be close with God,
Calm and serene my frame;
So purer light shall mark the road
That leads me to the Lamb.

Magnificat

My soul doth magnify the Lord: and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour.
For he hath regarded: the lowliness of his handmaiden.
For behold, from henceforth: all generations shall call me blessed.
For he that is mighty hath magnified me: and holy is his Name.
And his mercy is on them that fear him: throughout all generations.
He hath shewed strength with his arm: he hath scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts.
He hath put down the mighty from their seat: and hath exalted the humble and meek.
He hath filled the hungry with good things: and the rich he hath sent empty away.
He remembering his mercy hath holpen his servant Israel: as he promised to our forefathers, Abraham and his seed for ever.
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son: and to the Holy Ghost;
as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be: world without end.

Amen.

Nunc dimittis

Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace: according to thy word.
For mine eyes have seen: thy salvation;
Which thou hast prepared: before the face of all people;
To be a light to lighten the Gentiles: and to be the glory of thy people Israel.
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son: and to the Holy Ghost;
as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be: world without end.

Amen.

For Lo I Raise Up

For, lo, I raise up that bitter and hasty nation,
Which march through the breadth of the earth,
To possess the dwelling places that are not theirs.
They are terrible and dreadful,
Their judgment and their dignity proceed from themselves.
Their horses also are swifter than leopards,
And are more fierce than the evening wolves.
And their horsemen spread themselves,
Yea, their horsemen come from far.
They fly as an eagle that hasteth to devour,
They come all of them for violence;
Their faces are set as the east-wind,
And they gather captives as the sand.
Yea, he scoffeth at kings,
And princes are a derision unto him.
For he heapeth up dust and taketh it.
Then shall he sweep by as a wind that shall pass over,
And be guilty,
Even he, whose might is his God.
Art not thou from everlasting,
O Lord, my God, mine Holy One?
We shall not die.
O Lord, thou hast ordained him for judgement,
And thou, O Rock, hast established him for correction.
I will stand upon my watch and set me upon the tower,
And look forth to see what he will say to me,
And what I shall answer concerning my complaint.
And the Lord answered me and said:
The vision is yet for the appointed time,
And it hasteth toward the end, and shall not lie:
Though it tarry, wait for it, because it will surely come.
For the earth shall be filled
with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord,
As the waters cover the sea.
But the Lord is in his holy temple:
Let all the earth keep silence before Him.