Suite de Canciones

Folclóricas Inglesas
(English Folksong Suite de Ralph Vaughan Williams)
 Ralph Vaughan Williams
( 1872 - 1958 )
• Luego de estudiar en el Royal College of Music en Londres con Rupert
Parry, estudió con Max Bruch y Maurice Ravel. Además fue un amigo
cercano de Gustav Holst.

• Editor del Himnario Inglés y presidente de la Sociedad Inglesa de

Danza y Canción Folclórica.

• Uno de los fundadores del movimiento nacionalista en Inglaterra,

recopiló y utilizó muchas canciones folclóricas en su música. Sirvió
durante la Primera Guerra Mundial cuya brutalidad y pérdida de
muchos amigos lo afectó profundamente.

• Sin duda uno de los compositores más importantes de la historia de

Inglaterra y con gran reconocimiento internacional. Escribió 9 sinfonías,
5 óperas, música para el cine, ballet y teatro, banda, coro y orquesta.
¨English Folksong Suite¨
• Junto a las Suites de Gustav Holst es una de las primeras obras
representativas para la banda moderna, y parte del repertorio
estándar o canónico.

• Tiene tres movimientos, el primero y tercero en forma de

marcha y el segundo en forma de canción. En ellos utiliza nueve
canciones folclóricas. Dura unos 11 minutos. Movimientos:
1.¨March- Seventeen Come Sunday¨,
2. ¨Intermezzo: My Bona Boy¨,
3. March: Folksong from Somerset.¨

• Estrenada en 1923 es una de las primeras obras para banda en

ser transcritas para orquesta (Gordon Jacob.)
Contexto Histórico, s.XX
• Dos guerras mundiales, la lucha entre capitalismo y comunismo,
explosión demográfica mundial, emergencia del tercer mundo,
educación.

• En el arte: Impresionismo, Expresionismo, Noeclacisismo, Atonalismo,

Serialismo, Música Aleatoria, electrónica, y Minimalismo. Rechazo a la
subjetividad del romanticismo, o búsqueda de ideas del pasado distante,
o miradas hacia el futuro como medios de expresar ideas creativas.

• Frederick Fennel fundó el ensamble de vientos artístico y compositores

de primer nivel empezaron a escribir para este.

• Algunos compositores representativos son: Debussy, Ravel,

Schoenberg, Stravinsky, Bartok, Hindemith, Holst, Vaughan Williams,
Grainger, Ives, Copland, Revueltas, Chávez y Villa-Lobos.
 Estilo: Nacionalismo
• El Nacionalismo es un movimiento musical que
se caracteriza por enfatizar los elementos
musicales de una región, país o grupo étnico.
Los compositores que escriben en el estilo
nacionalista incorporan canciones folclóricas,
danzas y/o ritmos nativos a la región. Frederic
Chopin es posiblemente uno de los primeros
compositores en utilizar elementos
nacionalistas a inicios del s XIX.
 Primer Movimiento: ¨March: Seventeen
come Sunday¨
FORMA

• La forma del primer movimiento es ABCAB (Marcha)

• La sección A está en fa dórico (modo usual en canciones

folclóricas) y corresponde a la canción ¨Seventeen con
Sunday¨

• La sección B está en La bemol mayor y corresponde a la

canción ¨Pretty Caroline¨

• La sección C regresa a fa dórico y corresponde a la

canción ¨Dives and Lazarus¨
 Primer Movimiento: ¨March: Seventeen
come Sunday¨
ESTILO Y TÉCNICA
• Buscar un fraseo y sentido de línea en estilo ¨cantado¨, pensando en frases
largas que agrupan más compases. Conocer las letras de las canciones
para dar el sentido emocional.

• En la primera sección A, el reto es lograr ese sentido lírico con la

articulación staccato liviana de una marcha. Mantener la lengua liviana y
relajada a pesar del volumen para que no se vuelva pesado.

• La segunda sección B, requiere un estilo legato y la mejor calidad y belleza

de sonido posible. El acompañamiento debe ser parejo y conectado
apoyando a los solistas, muy cantabile y melódico.

• La tercera sección C, el estilo es forte y marcato. Los graves deben

sostener el volumen y la calidad del sonido. El contrapunto en las maderas
debe ser limpiamente articulado y staccato, liviano y controlado sin que sea
filoso o chillón.
 Seventeen Come Sunday
As I walked out on a May morning, on a May She answered me right cheerfully, I'm seventeen
morning so early, come Sunday.
Will you take a man, my pretty fair maid? Will you
I overtook a pretty fair maid just as the day was a- take a man, my honey?
dawning.
She answered me right cheerfully, I darst not for
Chorus: my mummy.
With a rue-rum-ray, fol-the-diddle-ay,
But if you come round to my mummy's house,
Whack-fol-lare-diddle-I-doh. when the moon shines bright and clearly,

Her eyes were bright and her stockings white, and I will come down and let you in, and my mummy
her buckling shone like silver, shall not hear me.

She had a dark and a rolling eye, and her hair So I went down to her mummy's house, when the
hung over her shoulder. moon shone bright and clearly,

Where are you going, my pretty fair maid? Where She did come down and let me in, and I lay in her
are you going, my honey? arms till morning.

She answered me right cheerfully, I've an errand So, now I have my soldier-man, and his ways they
for my mummy. are quite winning.

How old are you, my pretty fair maid? How old The drum and fife are my delight, and a pint of rum
are you, my honey? in the morning.
 Pretty Caroline
One morning in the month of May when brightly shone the
sun,
This maiden fair ‘twixt joy and woe away from him she flew –
Upon the banks of Tilbury stream there sat a lovely one,
‘Oh stand away without delay, unless you tell me true;
She did appear a goddess fair, her dark brown hair did shine,
Produce the ring, the braided ring, and a lock of hair of mine,
It shaded the neck and bosom white of pretty Caroline.
No mortal man shall e’er deceive this faithful Caroline.’

I said to her – ‘My pretty maid, do you remember me?

This braided hair and ring of gold young William did her show,
I am the jolly sailor which ploughed the Regency,
Then Caroline and William unto some church did go,
And for courting of a pretty maid her parents did combine,
Down in some lofty mansion so splendid they did shine,
They sent me off in a man of war from pretty Caroline.
The sailor blessed the month of May he met with Caroline.

It’s seven long years since I was bound all for to save the King,

Where rattling cannons roared around, which made the deep

sea ring,

Here’s gold and silver I have brought and freely would resign,

Here’s gold and silver for a ring, ‘tis all for Caroline.’
 Dives and Lazarus
As it fell out upon a day,
Rich Dives he made a feast,
And he invited all his friends
And gentry of the best.
Then Lazarus laid him down and down,
And down at Dives’ door;
‘Some meat, some drink, brother Dives,
Bestow upon the poor!’—
‘Thou art none of my brother, Lazarus,
That lies begging at my door;
No meat nor drink will I give thee,
Nor bestow upon the poor.’
Then Lazarus laid him down and down,
And down at Dives’ wall,
‘Some meat, some drink, brother Dives,
Or with hunger starve I shall!’—
‘Thou art none of my brother, Lazarus,
That lies begging at my wall;
No meat nor drink will I give thee,
But with hunger starve you shall.’
Then Lazarus laid him down and down,
And down at Dives’ gate:
‘Some meat, some drink, brother Dives,
For Jesus Christ his sake!’—
‘Thou art none of my brother, Lazarus
That lies begging at my gate;
No meat nor drink will I give thee,
For Jesus Christ his sake.’
Then Dives sent out his merry men,
To whip poor Lazarus away;
They had no power to strike a stroke,
But flung their whips away.
Then Dives sent out his hungry dogs,
To bite him as he lay;
They had no power to bite at all,
But lickéd his sores away.
As it fell out upon a day,
Poor Lazarus sicken’d and died;
Then came two angels out of heaven
His soul therein to guide.
‘Rise up, rise up, brother Lazarus,
And go along with me;
For you’ve a place prepared in heaven,
To sit on an angel’s knee.’
As it fell out upon a day,
Rich Dives sicken’d and died;
Then came two serpents out of hell,
His soul therein to guide.
‘Rise up, rise up, brother Dives,
And go with us to see
A dismal place, prepared in hell,
To sit on a serpent’s knee.’
Then Dives look’d up with his eyes,
And saw poor Lazarus blest:
‘Give me one drop of water, brother Lazarus,
To quench my flaming thirst.
‘Oh had I as many years to abide
As there are blades of grass,
Then there would be an end, but now
Hell’s pains will ne’er be past!
‘Oh was I now but alive again,
The spac e of one half hour!
Oh that I had my peace secure!
Then the devil should have no power.’