Greetings!:
Today marks the 28th anniversary of what I feel is one of the most significant events in my life!
As those of you who have read the interests lists in my profile will know, one of the foremost among these by its placement on that list, if not _The_ foremost, is in so-called Classical music (I say "so-called" because the term "Classical" technically should apply to music from a specific period in music history, the period of Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven (I should have mentioned in my initial post that historical figures will here often be referred to merely by their last names without titles as is often done), and arguably a transitional figure from the Classical to the Romantic period such as Schubert and others making this transition as Beethoven, of course, also was doing, though it must be admitted that the term generically fits the overall panorama of Western serious music rather well). On this day in 1978 I visited a University of Maryland library for the purpose of concluding my initial get-acquainted sessions with Elgar's two largest Biblical oratorios, _The_ _Apostles_ _And_ _The_ _Kingdom_, which had been suggested to me by a Librarian at WETA, one of our Area's public radio stations (you might not know this English composer's name, but you almost certainly know one work of his, his _Pomp_ _And_ _Circumstance_ _March_ _No._ _1_, often used at graduations, etc., which was the first of five such marches he wrote, though he wrote many other works of various sorts which have much interested me since those days in the late '70's). I was becoming interested in these oratorios, via Sir Adrian Boult's recordings of them which that library owned, but thought, near what I felt would be the end of my session on that Sunday, "why not ask if they have a recording of Ralph (Pronounced "Rafe") Vaughan Williams's opera, or morality as you would later learn he preferred to call it, _The_ _Pilgrim's_ _Progress_, since you heard of it on an opera broadcast somewhat before that and also wrote a high-school term paper on the famous Bunyan allegory, being in sympathy with its subject matter, Theology, etc.?" I did, was offered again a Boult recording, and settled in to listen. Yet I thought that VW (Wich, though it might seem somewhat un-House-Of-Old-Schoolish, I will hereafter call this slightly-later English composer, also sometimes just "the composer") to save space, as others who do so hopefully do), being a 20th-Century composer, might write in at least a somewhat-harsh style. Indeed the opera's opening scene following its Prologue showing Bunyan writing his book in Bedford Jail, having to do with Pilgrim (which VW chose to call his main character instead of Christian, Bunyan's original designation, in an attempt to make the work's message more universal, though I personally feel it remains basically a Christian work, which presumably VW would not want to hear me say) preparing for, and starting out on, his journey, with the great burden of sin on his back, and first being met by three of his neighbours who unsuccessfully try to persuade him to return home with them, contains some appropriately-unpleasant music. This continues through much of the orchestral interlude leading to the next scene, and, though there is nothing in the text nor score as we now have it to suggest this, I wonder if _MAYBE_ we can read Bunyan's famous Slough of Despond into some of this music. But then, as one might expect in a scene called "The House Beautiful," the music becomes some of the most beautiful one might wish to hear, at least in my opinion, and, on that Sunday in that library, it began to be, to paraphrase a familiar cliche, love at first hearing! After Pilgrim's anguished cry of "Save me, save me, Lord, my burden is greater than I can bear! (punctuation, and later some extra capitalization, are my own, not necessarily that of the original text)", three shining ones are heard singing words of encouragement from within the house, and Pilgrim, to music perhaps more familiar from VW's _5th_ _Symphony_ where it originally was associated with these words, sings "He hath given me rest by His sorrow, and life by his Death." The shining ones then come out, greet Pilgrim in turn with Biblical quotations, and remove his burden (as those of you who have read Bunyan will know, there it merely rolls off Christian's back into the sepulchre below the cross which is also upon that place). They having admonished him to knock at the door of the house, he does so, and is greeted by the interpreter, who asks "Whence come you, and what would you have?" "Sir, here is a poor pilgrim. I would know if you are willing to let me in." Indeed an open door is set before him, no man may shut it, and a swelling full chorus, with further invitation from the interpreter, greets him lustily, music which should set goose bumps onto all but the most hardened of backs! A room with its window toward the sun-rising has been prepared for him, and the name of that chamber is Peace. As this wonderfully-beautiful music continues, solo singers alternating with the chorus, he is sealed with the Holy Spirit, robed in fine linen, clean and white, and then prayer is offered for his rest, after which the chorus and shining ones offer final swelling words of encouragement! This ends Act I, but the original production team at London's Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, where this work was first staged in 1951, somehow decided they wanted to go straight from Act I to Act II without an interval, and so, one day on a train, VW wrote the Interlude between these two acts. During it, Watchful, the porter, comes down, singing "Into Thy Hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit, etc.," and then, when he has fully come to the fore, sings an abridged version of Psalm 121 (in the Protestant sequence) before leaving to the same words by which he entered. This is rather-lovely music, and it ends with a passage for muted strings based on what Watchful has sung before this Interlude concludes with the music by which it began. But this calm is emphatically broken by the beginning of the Prelude to Act II, restless music which suggests something is about to happen. This eventually leads to a trumpet call, introducing a herald, who is there to help arm Pilgrim for the rest of his journey. "This is the King's Highway, cast up by patriarchs and prophets. It is straight as a rule can make it, who will go on that Way?" "Set my name down, sir," is Pilgrim's reply, after which the herald admonishes him of some of the difficulties he will meet and how he must "turn not to the left or the right, lest you stumble and fall to rise no more. There is no way but right up the hill." At various points during this, the chorus sings snatches of a hymn possibly familiar to some of you as "He Who Would Valiant Be," but here is sung in the verses Bunyan originally wrote, beginning "Who would true valour see, let him come hither," and to a tune VW especially composed for this, though he had previously used it in incidental music written in the early '40's for a BBC broadcast dramatization of the Bunyan allegory. Pilgrim is thus fitted with the equipment prescribed in the 6th Chapter of the _Book_ _Of_ _Ephesians_, the Shield of Faith, the Helmet of Salvation, the Breastplate of Righteousness, and the Sword of the Spirit. He blesses God for these, and says he will not be afraid as the chorus also admonishes him to "be not afraid!" The herald and chorus send him on his way with further good wishes and a final verse of "Who Would True Valour See," after which, to some appropriately-spookky? music, he descends into the Valley of Humiliation. Eventually a chorus of foul fiends starts yelling and snarling at him, after which Appolyon appears. Using artificial amplification, he challenges Pilgrim, telling him, among other things, "all of this country is mine, and I am the king and the god of it." But Pilgrim is having _NONE_ of it, for "the wages of sin is death. Therefore I bound myself to another, even the King of Princes. ... this is the King's Highway, the Way of Holiness. Therefore take heed to yourself!" They eventually go to fighting, and Pilgrim, though wounded, triumphs, being "more than conquerer through Him that loved me!" Yet he has grown weary by reason of his wounds, his strength is almost quite spent, and thus he is offered, by two Heavenly bearers, leaves from the Tree of Life and some of the Water of Life to more of that _WONDERFUL_ music in which this score is so rich! Evangelist, who first pointed out this Way to Pilgrim in the morality's opening scene and further admonished him to give no heed to those neighbours, joins those three to warn Pilgrim of new trials awaiting him at the town of Vanity where the famous (or infamous!) Vanity Fair is kept, also bringing him the Staff of Salvation, the Roll of the Word, and the Key of Promise. They all admonish him to be faithful unto death, "and the King shall give thee the Crown of Life," after which this act peacefully and quietly ends. Following an interval (intermission) if one is in the theatre, a raspy note on muted brass with a cymbal roll pushes us straight into the hubbub of Vanity Fair, and people can be heard chattering during this on both Sir Adrian's recording of this morality and a newer one conducted by Mr. Richard Hickox. "Buy! What will ye buy!," etc., sing the collective venders, and one of them, Lord Lechery, offers his wares to words especially given him by the composer's widow, Mrs. Ursula Vaughan Williams. "But who is this man," etc., sings the surprised crowd, and then they gather around him to try to entice him as well, among them being Madam Bubble and Madam Wanton. "Turn mine eyes lest they behold vanity," he prays, after which the chorus sings mockingly the familiar words from _Ecclesiastes_, "vanity, all is vanity." But Pilgrim would buy the Truth, and, after the crowd laughs at that notion, Pontius Pilate reiterates his famous question, "What is truth?" "As for your prince Beelzebub the father of lies, I defy him and all his angels!," retorts their unwelcome visitor, and when he would have all the whoremongers, murderers and idolaters, and all that maketh and telleth a lie, away, the town judge, Lord Hategood, is announced. He is, as the moderns put it, brought up to speed concerning Pilgrim's perceived interferences, and, when he bids the witnesses to be called, they proceed to come forward, all gradually intensifying to virtual mob status. When asked to return a verdict, the entire crowd heartily pronounces Pilgrim guilty of death, and the judge has him taken off to prison, which happens to a solemn march joined in further anger by the chorus. When this dies away, our central character is left dispondent, and he sings of this to words largely taken from Psalm 22, beginning with an expanded version of that famous opening verse, "My God, My God, look upon me, why hast Thou forsaken me?" When he sings of the mocking crowds, the music is enhanced by more snarling, muted brass and angry whirling in the bass instruments. But he _FINALLY_ comes to his better senses! "O fool that I am, in my bosom lies the Key of promise! Wherefore should I lie in bondage when I might walk at liberty on the King's Highway? The Key, the Way of Freedom! Open to me the Gates of Righteousness! I will go into them!" Then, as the brass triumphantly play again the last music Pilgrim has sung, the prison gates open, and, to _WONDERFULLY_-atmospheric oscillating harmonies, the Highway begins to vaguely appear. "Show me Thy Way, O Lord," he begins to pray, and starts to behold the stars, which leads to extensive quotation from Psalm 139, beginning "If I ascend into Heaven, Thou art there." When he finishes with these verses, the oscillating stops for a time, and he sings perhaps the most famous verse from Psalm 119, "But Thy Word is a lantern unto my feet, and a light unto my path." Then, with the music, _IF_ possible, growing even more beautiful than it has been during this part of the scene, he concludes, "Lead me, Lord, make my way straight before my face. And let all them that put their trust in Thee rejoice! They shall be ever giving thanks to Thee. They shall be joyful in Thee!" Whenever I play this scene, I almost _INVARIABLY_ have to re-play this closing passage, and may well do so again this evening when I hope to conclude my playing of the morality with its last two acts! Act IV begins with high strings and a horn playing further lovely, peaceful music, and, after a change of key, we meet a woodcutters boy who sings a song of his humble life, beginning "He that is down need fear no fall, he that is low no pride. He that is humble ever shall have God to be his Guide." "Hark to what that boy doth sing, I would dare to say he leads a merrier life, and wears more of the herb called heart's-ease in his bosom than he that is clad in silk and velvet." The two greet each other, and the boy tells Pilgrim that, when the day is clear, he may see the Delectable Mountains, and then his journey is nearly at an end. Enter Mr. and Madam By-Ends who, to what Mr. Michael Kennedy, VW's official musical biographer, calls "jaunty and engaging" music (please see his notes for the EMI recording of VW's _Sir_ _John_ _In_ _Love_), tell him that they favour taking a different, less strict, course than he favours, and, when he tells them that they must go against the wind and tide to follow him, they are offended, feeling their old principles are harmless and profitable, and go on their ways. Then the boy further describes the Delectable Mountains, Pilgrim expresses his longing to be there, and the boy bids him farewell as he sets out again. Following a soft instrumental version of "Who Would True Valour See," we come to "The Shepherds Of The Delectable Mountains," a scene which VW actually wrote as a separate work as far back as 1922, though he revised its ending when he incorporated it into the full morality. After a solo on VW's favourite instrument, the viola, the three shepherds take turns singing verses from Psalm 91, beginning "Whosoever dwelleth under the Defense of the Most High shall abide under the Shadow of the Almighty" (perhaps it should be noted here that VW sometimes quoted from the older versions of the Psalms contained in the Anglican _Book_ _Of_ _Common_ _Prayer_, not the more familiar King James renderings, thus the differences you may have noted throughout this writing). When Pilgrim arrives, and asks "Whose Delectable Mountains are these, and whose be the sheep that feed upon them," he is told that "These Mountains are Emanuel's Land, and the sheep also are His, and he laid down His Life for them." He is assured that he is just in his way, and that the Celestial City is "Too far for any but those who shall get thither indeed." When he asks if there is relief for pilgrims that are weary and faint in the Way, he is assured that "The Lord of these Mountains has given us a charge not to be forgetful to entertain pilgrims." The good of the place now being before him, they ask him whence he has come and where he is going, and, when asked what makes him so desirous to get to Mount Zion, he sings "Feign would I be where I shall die no more, in the Paradise of God, there to be with my King all the days of Eternity!" He is then shown a view of the City, at the sight whereof he falls sick with desire." But the shepherds would have him stay a while, and, after he agrees to do so, a bird up in a tree begins to sing an abridged version of the 23rd Psalm, during which one of the shepherds describes the atmosphere which will be found in those Mountains. Thus far in this scene the music has included some strange harmonies (which will be familiar to those who know VW's _3rd_ _Symphony_, his "Pastoral"), but there has been some most-beautiful music as well, and this setting of that most familiar of Psalms, with string solos crowning all, is another of those _SUPREME_ passages in this work! But Pilgrim must get on with it, and so a messenger comes to tell him that the Master calleth for him, bringing along an arrow, with the point sharpened with Love, to let easily into his heart as a token that he is a true messenger. The shepherds anoint his body with spices, pray the Comforter to be with him as he crosses the river between him and the Gate, and then he descends into it. When he starts to sink, he prays to be preserved from the deep waters, whereupon the shepherds, now joined by full chorus, pray that God be not far from him, etc. When he has passed over, and we once again have heard a solo viola, a distant trumpet sounds, followed by "Hallelujahs," first on distant solo voices and then on swelling full chorus. "Blessed are they that dwell in Thy House. May we always be praising Thee," sings a distant tenor, and an alto adds "Behold, thy Salvation cometh, and His Reward is with Him." After this latter further adds "Blessing and Glory, Honour and Power, be unto Him that sitteth upon the Throne for ever and ever," the orchestra, preceeded by swelling "Holy's" from the chorus, thunders out an old English hymn tune called "York," which was first heard on the brass at the morality's beginning, featured prominently in the Prelude where Bunyan was shown in prison, and recurred particularly near the end of the last exchange between Pilgrim and the wood-cutter's boy. If I am not mistaken, the scene of Heaven, which, like the King's Highway in the last scene of Act III, has been vague up to now, but presumably comes into plain view when York breaks out in another goose-bump passage. It might interest some to know that, during this, we also hear a brief quotation from arguably VW's most famous work, his _Fantasia_ _On_ _A_ _Theme_ _Of_ _Thomas_ _Tallis_, which also briefly appears in the Prelude to the whole opera. Once the bells have rung and the "Holy"s have concluded, the distant soloists toss the Tallis fragment back and forth between themselves and the full chorus, the bells ring out one last time with a last _GLORIOUS_ chord from the orchestra, and, as the trumpet calls and solo "Hallelujah"s fade away, we are returned to Bedford Jail where bunyan bids us interpret the dream he has had in which this story was revealed to him. "Put by the curtains, look within my veil, turn up my metaphors, and do not fail there, if thou seekest them, such things to find as will be helpful to an honest mind. This book will make a traveller of thee if by its counsel thou wilt ruled be. It will direct thee to the Holy Land if thou wilt its directions understand. O then come hither, and lay my book, thy head, and heart together." This is what I first heard on this date 28 years ago, and, as I hope you gather, it has remained with me ever since as the cliche again would have it!
There are two _SPLENDID_ recordings of this morality currently available, both of which I mentioned previously. The Boult version may be found on the EMI Label, the Hickox on Chandos. I have since had the privilege of personally coming to know Mr. John Noble, who sang Pilgrim in the Boult version, and one of my _ABSOLUTE_ favourites among todays singers, who I also had the privilege of meeting in New York in March of 2005, Miss Susan Gritton, sings several roles in the Hickox recording. So why not have a go at _BOTH_ if you wish, but, if you would only have one, I would now _MARGINALLY_ lean toward the Hickox, hoping Mr. Noble, whose performance still remains _WONDERFUL_ and whose son might pay this blog a visit, will not mind.
If you can stand it, I must not close without a word about language, since, after all, we are about dignity here in the House of Old-School. It is often said that Bunyan's language was quite colloquial in keeping with his tinker's background, but I personally have a hard time on most occasions feeling that way, unless I am always reading "sanitized" versions (which I would like to think I am not). For me, Bunyan is quintessentially about dignity, decency and deference alongside his Theological arguments, and thus he is _MOST_ welcome here, particularly on this special-for-me day!!!
To close, I hope all the parenthetical notes in this writing have not been too tedious. I have re-arranged some of them so as not to interrupt the main flow, but some of them still inevitably do, and I leave them in the hope that these explanations will help you better understand what I am writing about, especially those with a non-Classical-music background. I personally wish for people to look beneath the mere surface of such music, and thus I hope I have not offended those who mainly like to just be entertained by their music.
J. V.
