#Vaughan Williams

[symphonybracket]

battle of the twos 🥊2️⃣💢

[tinyicis]

😄 & 👓

[classical-music-suites-bracket]

Classical Music Suites Bracket

Hi everyone! After the success that the symphony bracket has been so far I thought I'd keep the fun going by hosting the suites bracket that was initially discussed on that blog. The format will remain quite similar, but I'll clarify this when the tournament starts which will likely be sometime in December. There is only the one mod, so please be patient with me (oh also she/they pronouns please).

I'm accepting submissions, so here's some guidelines for that:

Please make submissions to the ask box.

You can include propaganda if you would like to but you don't have to.

If there is a specific recording that you would like me to use please specify it in your submission.

For the purposes of this bracket suite is fairly broad, though it will be restricted to suites with at least 2 movements. Please don't submit works that are other forms (eg. symphony, concerto, opera etc). If the mod determines that a submission is not clearly a suite then a poll will be created to determine general consensus.

The number of suites to make it into the bracket is yet to be determined, but it will be either 16, 32, or 64, depending on the number of submissions.

As submissions come in, I will add them to the bottom of this post every so often.

Also as an extra little novelty, feel free to guess the suite, movement, and instrument of the sheet music in the header image :)

Tagging @symphonybracket to credit the idea as that is where the idea was first talked about and much of the format has come from.

Feel free to share this post, ask any questions you may have, and of course start submitting!

[cactustaffy]

Twitter requests&doodles

[frickatives]

6.23.2024 :: quick little clip of some Vaughan Williams Phantasy Quintet from this afternoon's chamber concert 🥰 (opening of mvmt 4 -- we only played 3&4 due to time constraints but this tune is the catchiest thing, we were singing it all day after every rehearsal)

[mygrandmotherspiano]

The eclipse has some opinions about the bowings for this Vaughan Williams piece.

(I recently got hired to copy bow markings for my local symphony!)

[senfonikankara]

Cumhurbaşkanlığı Senfoni Orkestrası

5 Ocak 2024 Cuma, 20:00 CSO Ana Salon

Vaughan Williams | 5. Senfoni

Fazıl Say | 5. Senfoni

[erebites]

music taste is crazy because i really don’t understand how people aren’t brought to tears by the tallis fantasia which in my opinion is the greatest and most perfect piece of music ever written

[symphonybracket]

battle of the eights 🥊8️⃣💢

[laudys83]

Under your spell

Day 31: "The lark ascending" by Vaughan WILLIAMS

In the room Venec had been squatting in since their return to Kaamelott, Alzagar and he were making love. King Arthur tried everything to separate them, without even knowing the true nature of their relationship, but nothing could succeed. It was impossible. He would send Alzagar to the continent, sometimes far to the south, on missions of varying peril, but the bounty hunter always returned to Venec. He had come back a few hours earlier but could only slip into their shared room well after nightfall. No one knew about them. No one would understand.

As the bed creaked loudly beneath their tightly entwined bodies, Alzagar kept his eyes fixed on the mirror Venec used for his grooming. He adored that brazen vanity his lover displayed, and through it, he could admire his body at leisure. Venec liked to take control during their lovemaking, and Alzagar gave him free rein without any restraint. He enjoyed being the object of his desire, knowing that with one deliberate squeeze, he could send him soaring to heaven.

But tonight, it was Alzagar who couldn't take his eyes off their reflection, ignoring his own to focus entirely on Venec's. His gaze roved over every inch of skin, this soft skin he caressed, the sweat he loved to taste with his lips and tongue, that thin, glistening layer that made Venec even more beautiful than he already was. Alzagar loved everything about him: his body, of course, but also who he was. He respected only the laws that suited him, he traded slaves, he exploited women, but Alzagar, after all, wasn't much better. He loved his carefreeness, his knack for always landing on his feet like a street cat accustomed to a hard life.

The duke’s money had given them the chance to live a good life now, and Alzagar didn’t hold back from spoiling his sweetheart, showering him with gifts whenever he could. It was the least he could do; Venec was life’s gift to him. His dazzling jewel, his alone. That thought alone sent shivers of pleasure cascading down his body, and he ran his hands along Venec's damp back, caressing his firm buttocks. Closing his eyes for just a second, just one, as his mouth sang his name, his hands remained still. Without even gripping them, he could feel Venec's muscles tensing under his skin, harder, faster, more frantic.

Outside, through the open window, the sound of a bird's song rose steadily, growing louder. Venec's hand gripped his face. "Look at me," he breathed, beads of sweat dripping into Alzagar's damp hair.

But Alzagar couldn't tear his gaze from the mirror, captivated by the contrast of their skins—one pale, the other sun-kissed—his hands mirroring Venec’s rhythm, making endless trips between his shoulders and his hips. Finally, he allowed himself to grip him firmly, squeezing with a slight chuckle as Venec arched and moaned in ecstasy.

"Look at me," he repeated, almost pleading, his hand tightening on Alzagar’s jaw, forcing him to meet his gaze. As soon as Alzagar’s eyes locked onto his, no longer fixed on the mirror, Venec captured his mouth in a passionate kiss, his body undulating above his, like the tide washing ashore and receding again. Outside, the bird's song grew louder, soon joined by others. Venec closed his eyes as if to deny the moment.

"A lark?" Alzagar murmured.

Venec shook his head almost frantically. "No... No, it’s an owl, or a hawk, I don’t know. I don’t care."

He kept kissing him, but over his shoulder, Alzagar saw the sky change through the window, growing less dark. "Dawn is coming," he murmured.

Venec let out a desperate groan, and Alzagar held him tighter in his arms. Dawn meant separation, a return to the roles they had to play, the gazes they could no longer share, the hands that could no longer touch, hold, kiss. Shaking his head again, Venec whispered: "No… No, not yet... not now..." His voice broke into a sob as the bed creaked relentlessly. "I’m going to come."

Alzagar's mouth curved into a delighted, fulfilled smile as he nodded, squeezing Venec’s hips harder than ever. "So am I," he sighed, giving his lover those last moments of energy to send him into bliss.

"Look at me," Venec said again, a third time, but this time Alzagar didn’t resist, didn’t play any games. He locked his gaze with Venec’s, letting him see his eyes glaze over, his expression darken as his orgasm overtook him. Venec smiled, meeting his gaze as he climaxed too, his arms stretched out on either side of Alzagar’s shoulders, his hands clutching the sheets so tightly his knuckles turned white.

He remained there, motionless, his breathing ragged, as Alzagar’s body still shook with uncontrollable aftershocks. Silence settled in the room, but the birds kept singing. Instinctively, Venec wrapped Alzagar in an embrace burning with love. "It’s the owl," he murmured against his cheek, cursing the rays of sunlight that flooded their love nest, exposing their naked bodies to the world, shattering their illusion and unveiling the truth. It wasn’t the owl but the lark, joyfully heralding the dawn.

"Stay."

It was a command, or a plea, or a request, or an assertion. In his head, it wasn’t clear.

Alzagar pressed a lingering kiss to his lips, giving him a tender look. "I can’t."

Already, his body slipped away from his. Already, he moved around the room, gathering the clothes scattered on the floor. Already, he was leaving.

Venec could do nothing to stop him. Hiding by day to reunite by night was the price they paid for this love. He watched Alzagar dress as he sat, wrapping his arms around his knees. He hated that black fabric, always black, that hid from him the soft, comforting skin he adored.

Still, he tried to keep up appearances when Alzagar bent down to him, letting his fingers run through Venec’s brown locks, sliding a finger beneath his chin to lift his face. "I love you with all my heart," the bounty hunter whispered, like a promise, like a pact between them.

Venec squeezed his eyes shut, and when he reopened them, Alzagar was gone.

Sous ton charme

Dans la chambre que Venec squattait depuis leur retour à Kaamelott, Alzagar et lui faisaient l’amour. Le roi Arthur essayait tout pour les séparer, sans même connaître la vraie nature de leur relation, mais rien ne pouvait faire réussir cette mission. C’était impossible. Il envoyait Alzagar sur le continent, parfois très loin au sud, accomplir des missions plus ou moins périlleuses, mais le chasseur de primes revenait toujours à Venec. Il était rentré quelques heures plus tôt, mais n’avait pu se glisser dans la chambre conjugale que bien après la tombée de la nuit. Personne ne savait, pour eux. Personne ne comprendrait. 

Alors que le lit grinçait bruyamment sous leurs deux corps étroitement enlacés, Alzagar gardait les yeux rivés sur le miroir qui servait à Venec pour se refaire une beauté. Il adorait cette vanité tellement assumée de son amant, et, ainsi, il pouvait admirer son corps à loisir. Venec aimait prendre les choses en main pendant leurs ébats, Alzagar lui laissait le champ libre sans aucune retenue. Ça lui plaisait d’être ainsi l’objet de son désir, de savoir que d’une contraction autour de son membre, il pouvait l’envoyer au septième ciel. Mais, cette nuit, c’était bien Alzagar qui ne pouvait détacher ses yeux de leurs reflets, bien qu’il élude complètement le sien pour se concentrer sur celui de Venec. Ses yeux détaillaient le moindre centimètre de peau, cette peau si douce qu’il caressait, cette sueur qu’il adorait goûter de ses lèvres et de sa langue, cette fine pellicule humide qui rendait Venec plus beau encore qu’il ne l’était déjà. Alzagar aimait tout de lui : son corps, bien sûr, mais aussi ce qu’il était, lui. Il ne respectait que les lois qui l’arrangeait, il vendait des esclaves, il trafiquait le corps des filles, mais Alzagar, après tout, n’était pas beaucoup mieux que lui. Il aimait son insouciance, sa capacité à toujours retomber sur ses pattes comme un chat de gouttière habitué à la vie à la dure. L’argent du Duc leur avait donné la possibilité de vivre une belle vie à présent, et Alzagar ne se privait pas de gâter son mignon, de le couvrir de cadeaux dès qu’il en avait l’occasion. C’était la moindre des choses : Venec était le cadeau que lui avait fait la vie. Son impressionnant bijou, rien qu’à lui. Cette seule pensée le fit frissonner de plaisir des pieds à la tête, et il glissa ses mains le long de son dos trempé, caressant les fesses bombées. Il ferma les yeux une seconde, rien qu’une seconde, pendant que sa bouche chantait son nom, et garda ses mains immobiles. Sans même s’y agripper, il pouvait sentir ses fesses se contracter sous sa peau, de plus en plus fort, de plus en plus précipitamment. Dehors, par la fenêtre ouverte, il entendit le son d’un oiseau monter lentement, puis gagner en intensité. La main de Venec agrippa son visage :

« Regarde-moi » souffla-t-il, des gouttes de sueur tombant dans les cheveux humides d’Alzagar. Mais ce dernier ne pouvait détacher son regard du miroir, admirer le contraste de leurs peaux – l’une très blanche, l’autre très hâlée – ses mains suivant le rythme de Venec pour faire des allers-retours incessants entre ses épaules et ses fesses. Enfin, il s’autorisa à s’y agripper, les serrant fort entre ses doigts, un léger rire lui échappant alors que Venec se cambrait et gémissait d’extase. 

« Regarde-moi » répéta-t-il, comme une supplique, sa main serrant sa mâchoire, le forçant à le regarder. Dès que les yeux d’Alzagar se posèrent sur lui et plus sur le miroir, sa bouche prît la sienne dans un baiser passionné, son corps ondulant au-dessus du sien, comme la mer venant mourir puis renaître au pied d’une plage. Dehors, l’oiseau chantait de plus en plus fort, bientôt rejoint par d’autres volatiles. Venec ferma les yeux, comme pour renier l’instant. 

« Alouette ? » souffla Alzagar. 

Venec secoua la tête, presque frénétiquement :

« Non… Non c’est un hibou, ou une chouette, j’en sais rien. J’m’en fous » il continua de l’embrasser mais, par-dessus son épaule, Alzagar vit le ciel changer par la fenêtre, devenir moins sombre. 

« C’est bientôt l’aube » murmura-t-il. 

Venec eut un gémissement désespéré, et Alzagar le serra plus fort dans ses bras. L’aube signifiait la séparation, le retour aux rôles auxquels ils devaient se tenir, aux regards qu’ils ne pourraient plus partager, à leurs mains qui ne pourraient plus se prendre, se serrer, s’embrasser. A nouveau, il secoua la tête :

« Non… Non.. pas encore… pas tout de suite… » sa voix s’étrangla dans un hoquet alors que le lit grinçait sans discontinuer. « J’vais jouir » 

La bouche d’Alzagar s’étira dans un sourire ravi, comblé, alors qu’il hochait la tête, pinçant les fesses de Venec plus fort que jamais :

« Moi aussi » dit-il dans un soupir, donnant à son amant les dernières secondes d’énergie pour l’emmener à l’extase.

« Regarde-moi » dit-il encore, une troisième fois, mais cette fois, Alzagar ne lutta pas, ne joua à aucun jeu. Il planta son regard dans le sien pour qu’il voie ses yeux se voiler, son regard s’assombrir encore sous l’effet de son orgasme. Venec sourit, le regarda également en jouissant à son tour, ses bras tendus de chaque côté des épaules d’Alzagar, ses mains serrant les draps à blanchir ses phalanges. Il resta là, immobile, son souffle rauque, tandis que le corps d’Alzagar était encore agité de soubresauts incontrôlables. Un silence s’installa dans la chambre, mais les oiseaux chantèrent encore. Instinctivement, Venec enferma Alzagar dans une étreinte brûlante d’amour. 

« C’est la chouette » murmura-t-il contre sa joue, maudissant les rayons du soleil qui venaient inonder de lumière leur nid d’amour, qui venaient exposer leurs corps nus à la vue de tout, qui venaient briser son mensonge et laisser éclater la vérité. Ce n’était pas la chouette mais l’alouette, celle qui annonçait l’aube en chantant joyeusement. 

« Reste » 

Il ordonna, ou supplia, ou demanda, ou établit. Dans sa tête, ce n’était pas très clair. Alzagar déposa un long baiser sur ses lèvres, et lui lança un regard attendri :

« Je ne peux pas »

Déjà, son corps échappait au sien. Déjà, il arpentait la pièce à la recherche des vêtements éparpillés sur le sol. Déjà, il allait le quitter. 

Venec ne pouvait rien faire pour l’en empêcher : se cacher le jour ppour mieux se retrouver la nuit, c’était le prix à payer pour pouvoir vivre cette histoire. Il regarda Alzagar s’habiller alors qu’il s’asseyait et enlaçait ses genoux de ses bras : il détestait ce tissu noir, toujours noir, qui enlevait à sa vue sa peau douce et réconfortante. Il tenta quand même de donner le change quand Alzagar se pencha sur lui, faisant courir ses doigts dans ses mèches brunes, glissant un doigt sous le menton de Venec, le forçant à lever les yeux vers lui:

« Je t’aime d’amour » lui souffla le chasseur de primes, comme une promesse, comme un pacte entre eux. Venec ferma les yeux très fort et, quand il les rouvrît, Alzagar était parti. 

Challenge by @monthlywritingchallengesthank you so much for all this fun, looking forward to the next challenges!

[classical-music-suites-bracket]

English Folk Song Suite (Ralph Vaughan Williams):

1 Submission

No propaganda

Mother Goose Suite (Maurice Ravel):

1 Submission

Each movement of this suite was inspired by a children's or folk tale. It was originally written for two pianos and dedicated to the two children of sculpter Godebski. Ravel later scored it for orchestra (which is this version) and ballet. The music is just so French and wonderful…lots of beautiful textures and colors. My favorite movement (no. 3) has such cool orchestration - Ravel uses a lot of metallic and wooden keyboard percussion, celesta, and it's also very woodwind focused. I'm a flutist and I love all the flute and piccolo parts. The title of this movement is also kinda funny���it literally translates to "Little Ugly Girl, Empress of the Pagodas." Like a lot of French music of the time, this movement in particular has a lot of influences from southeast Asian music (pentatonic scales, and the percussion textures used sort of mimic Javanese gamelan music). I like this recording from a musical standpoint but also because the album cover is so silly lol

[violet-ianthe]

Antiphon - Vaughan Williams

[operaportugues]

Riders to the Sea (Homens ao Mar) (Ralph Vaughan Williams) - São Paulo, 08/março/2024

Ópera completa com legenda em português: link.

Uma pequena obra-prima, um estudo sobre dor e luz. Nesta forma de ópera fluida, sem números específicos e com o canto baseado na melodia do falar, a partitura se revela um personagem em si, em marés de acordes contínuos, a elevar e baixar a tensão - não há um só momento em que a música nos deixa em terra firme.

Vaugham Williams foi um compositor fundamental da escola nacionalista inglesa. Coletou canções populares, ochanteys (cantigas de marinheiro) das regiões portuárias e criou a partir desse repertório uma linguagem pessoal, refinada.

Programação:

RALPH VAUGHAN WILLIAMS (1872-1958) Fantasia sobre um tema de Thomas Tallis – 17’

RALPH VAUGHAN WILLIAMS (1872-1958) Homens ao Mar – 36'

Programa duplo de Vaugham Williams, que se inicia com a sinfonia "Fantasia on a theme by Thomas Tallis". Caetano Vilela, que está à frente da encenação, deu um sentido dramatúrgico para essa abertura musical, utilizando a sinfonia para apresentar os personagens dos filhos e o marido da protagonista, que morrem no mar.

“A gente usa a Fantasia sobre um Tema de Thomas Tallis como prólogo, já que, em boa parte da obra, a matriarca Maurya (Lidia Schaeffer) relembra os filhos que perdeu no mar. Cláudio Cruz sugeriu essa peça e eu vi uma oportunidade de brincar de teatro ali, contando a história desses filhos numa pantomima. A gente usa um cenário mais simbolista, sem marcações específicas, e com uma grande ‘onda’ abstrata se pronunciando sobre os personagens.”

“A concepção cenográfica é minha, mas busquei no arquiteto e cenógrafo Pedro Levorin soluções arquitetônicas para situar esta ação num espaço simbólico; com rampas desniveladas, dando uma ideia de que esta casa está num penhasco, à beira de um precipício, com as rochas brancas do fundo do mar presentes em um plano inferior. Também há um teto que engole a casa, como se fosse uma grande onda do mar que paira sobre os personagens”, destaca o diretor Caetano Vilela.

Explorando a ópera Riders to the sea

Wikipedia

Informações sobre esta produção

Programa

Análise sobre esta produção

O Globo

Revista Concerto

Personagens principais: - Bartley: o filho mais novo de Maurya. - Cathleen: filha mais velha de Maurya, tenta evitar que sua mãe morra de tristeza. - Maurya: viúva e mãe de oito filhos (Cathleen, Nora, Bartley, Shawn, Sheamus, Stephen, Patch e Michael). - Nora: a filha mais nova de Maurya, ajuda sua irmã com a mãe.

Sinopse: Antes do início da ópera: Maurya, uma irlandesa idosa, perdeu o marido, o sogro e quatro de seus filhos (Shawn, Sheamus, Stephen, Patch) no mar.

As filhas de Maurya, Nora e Cathleen, recebem a notícia de que um corpo que pode ser de seu irmão Michael, o quinto filho de Maurya, deu à costa em Donegal, bem ao norte. O sexto e último filho, Bartley, está planejando ir à feira de Galway para vender cavalos. Maurya teme os ventos do mar e pede a Bartley que fique, mas Bartley insiste em ir e montará "na égua vermelha com o pônei cinza atrás dele". Maurya prevê que, ao anoitecer, ela não terá mais filhos vivos, e suas filhas a repreendem por ter mandado Bartley embora com uma palavra ruim. Maurya vai atrás de Bartley para abençoar sua viagem. Nora e Cathleen recebem roupas do cadáver afogado que confirmam que ele é Michael. Maurya volta para casa, afirmando ter visto o fantasma de Michael cavalgando atrás de Bartley e começa a lamentar a perda dos homens de sua família para o mar. Nora então vê os aldeões carregando uma carga, que acaba sendo o cadáver de Bartley, que caiu do cavalo no mar e se afogou. Maurya lamenta: "Todos eles se foram agora, e não há mais nada que o mar possa fazer comigo."