Purcell - O Solitude, Z 406 - Gérard Lesne

Описание: Henry Purcell (1658/9-1695)
"O solitude, my sweetest choice", Z. 406, published 1684/5.

Note before beginning: The original score suppposed to be in C minor, whereas the only score I found is in B-flat minor and only two recordings I have (Deller and Lesne) are in F minor. Sorry you guys out there who claim to have absolute pitch. All I can suggest is, just close your eyes and try to enjoy it.

Henry Purcell (1659-1695), English Baroque composer. He has often been called England's finest native composer. Purcell incorporated Italian and French stylistic elements but devised a peculiarly English style of Baroque music.

The text of the powerful "O solitude, my sweetest choice" is a translation of a poem by Antoine Girard de Saint-Amant (1594-1661) , "La solitude". Thanslation is by Katherine Philips, known as "Orinda" as she called herself. It appeared in the fourth book of the anthology The Theater of Music in 1686.

The ground bass was not new when Purcell began composing; in fact, it was somewhat old-fashioned. He may have used the device as often as he did because he found it challenging. Repeated bass patterns, especially if they are diatonic, limit the harmonic exploration of a piece, and Purcell succeeded in breaking through this barrier on many occasions, most successfully in O solitude. In other songs, such as "Now that the sun hath veiled his light" and "Music for a while", Purcell transposes the ground bass in order to modulate.



More on Katherine Phillips and her poetry:

http://www.jimandellen.org/orinda.ord...

and on the original poem bt Saint-Amant with Phillips' translation:

http://www.jimandellen.org/womenspoet...


Text:

O solitude, my sweetest choice!
Places devoted to the night,
Remote from tumult and from noise,
How ye my restless thoughts delight!

O solitude, my sweetest choice!
O heav'ns! what content is mine
To see these trees, which have appear'd
From the nativity of time,

And which all ages have rever'd,
To look today as fresh and green
As when their beauties first were seen.
O, how agreeable a sight
These hanging mountains do appear,
Which th' unhappy would invite
To finish all their sorrows here,
When their hard fate makes them endure
Such woes as only death can cure.

O, how I solitude adore!
That element of noblest wit,
Where I have learnt Apollo's lore,
Without the pains to study it.
For thy sake I in love am grown
With what thy fancy does pursue;
But when I think upon my own,
I hate it for that reason too,
Because it needs must hinder me
From seeing and from serving thee.
O solitude, O how I solitude adore!