Simple Depth
by Jonathan Lunneberg
ACDA-Michigan South-Central Lower Peninsula Representative
Sometimes the biggest challenge we can give our singers is to sing a simple melody beautifully. Unfortunately, a simple melody written well and with more substance than a satisfying accompaniment isn’t always easy to find.
Set in a single edition that can be sung by either SSA or TTB voiced choirs (as well as a separate SAB voicing), Matthew Emery’s lullaby Good Night is a piece that I’ve found continues to reveal new layers of both compositional skill and emotional universality through multiple rehearsal/performance cycles.
The opening melody strikes both singer and listener as being immediately evocative of the Paul Laurence Dunbar text. That melody is set against a well structured accompaniment that begins with a cycle of building diatonic tone clusters in the bass that gently obscures the initial repetition of the deceptively simple introduction. A study of the opening five measures alone could yield significant lessons in melodic development as the simplest oscillation of pitches unfurls into an expanding range and then leads naturally back to the tonic. After being repeated exactly in conjunction with the opening vocal melody, the accompaniment continues to develop with a three measure rhythmic diminution coinciding with the most forceful dynamics up to this point and the text, “Good night, My Love.”
Upon the beginning of the second verse at measure 16, we find a slightly hidden bit of compositional craft. At first glance, it appears as though the opening melody is being spun into a simple round. With some further inspection, that three measure climax at the end of the first verse left the piano accompaniment to begin it’s repeat of the beginning motif one measure before the vocal line starts the second verse, thereby creating the effects of familiarity and fresh musical material simultaneously. And what poetic and emotional implications does this structure bestow? Does this represent two characters, one addressing another that is unable to respond? Does the offset accompaniment represent disorientation, a clouded mind, an uncertain heart or the exhaustion of parenthood?
Having performed it as a singer in an adult men’s chorus and then again a few months later as a conductor with an SSA choir of high school students, I’ve become aware that there is no shortage of potential poetic interpretations of this piece. It is a snapshot of the fleeting innocence and vulnerability of a child as seen through the eyes of a parent. Even more sweetly from the perspective of a grandparent. It is the pondering of an amicable, yet painful, end to a passionate relationship. It is a grateful moment of reflection as an adult child cares for their elderly parent. It is a sorrowful cry as a loved one is taken from this life too soon. In fact, is that offset piano part telling of a third character in this scene? Could that be the angels holding vigil round the subject of the poetry (as sung in m. 24), either protecting the innocent or guiding the fading loved one to a final resting place?
It can only be all of these. And more. This panoply of perceived meanings is what makes the music all the more personal and universal at the same time. Ephemeral and eternal.
This is the joy of great music. That we may connect with each other, with our singers, with our audience even as we connect more deeply with our own experience, perspective, and identity.
