mehefin

two things today made me think of this poem by gerard manley hopkins, written when he was at ffynnon feuno, tremeirchion in the summer of 1877

pied beauty

    glory be to god for dappled things—
        for skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
            for rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
    fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches' wings;
        landscape plotted and pieced—fold, fallow, and plough;
            and áll trades, their gear and tackle and trim.

    all things counter, original, spáre, strange;
        whatever is fickle, frecklèd (who knows how?)
            with swíft, slów; sweet, sóur; adázzle, dím;
    he fathers-forth whose beauty is pást change:
                                                práise hím.

the first being the dappled light under a lime tree equally burning and refreshing my closed eyes. the second being the dead body of a songthrush that lay wasted by a closed window. the window reflecting the landscape behind the bird as she flew.

some tunes have, to me, a dappled quality. others a grey chromaticism. this tune being in the former category

x:1
t:aberdulais
m:2/4
l:1/8
q:220
c:traddodiadol o lyn nedd
k:am
e|a>bcd|e2df|e2df|e2dc|d2cb|c2ba|b3c|a3e|
a>bcd|e2df|e2df|e2dc|d2cb|c2ba|^geab|a2a/b/c/d/||
eeec|a3b/c/|dbgb|gbd2|a>bcd|edcb|a2gb|a2a/b/c/d/|
eeec|a3b/c/|dbgb|gbd2|a>bcd|edcb|a2gb|a3||



here is a painting by turner 1775-1851 of aberdulais mill, painted some two generations before the tune was pricked down, later to appear in alawon fy ngwlad, the collection by nicholas bennet of glanyrafon.



this watercolour by turner of porth mawr, porth ia (st ives in cornwall) also displays a deep freckled luminous quality.



thomas jones of trefonnen, radnorshire, 1742-1803 was a student of richard wilson and a near contemporary of turner, as well as of these two tunes. he found his visual 'voice' when painting in naples.



his paintings visually represent to me the chromaticism i find in this next tune. not a musical chromaticism of intervals but a quality of colour, echoed particularly in the timbre of the flute in this key.

x: 2
t:cerrig yr afon
m:6/8
l:1/8
k:gmix
e|dbgcaf|g2dgfe|dbgcaf|g3g2e|
dbgcaf|g2dgfe|dbgcaf|g3g3||
bcde2d|cbab3|babe2z|babe>ze|
dbgcaf|g2dgfe|dbgcaf|g3g2z|
bcde2d|cbab3|babe2e|babe>ze|
dbgcaf|g2dgfe|dbgcaf|g3g2|



it is a quality one would associate more perhaps with the end of the year as in this poem written by thomas hardy on the last day of the nineteenth century

the darkling thrush

i leant upon a coppice gate
when frost was spectre-gray,
and winter's dregs made desolate
the weakening eye of day.
the tangled bine-stems scored the sky
like strings of broken lyres,
and all mankind that haunted nigh
had sought their household fires.

the land's sharp features seemed to be
the century's corpse outleant,
his crypt the cloudy canopy,
the wind his death-lament.
the ancient pulse of germ and birth
was shrunken hard and dry,
and every spirit upon earth
seemed fervourless as i.

at once a voice arose among
the bleak twigs overhead
in a full-hearted evensong
of joy illimited;
an aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small,
in blast-beruffled plume,
had chosen thus to fling his soul
upon the growing gloom.

so little cause for carolings
of such ecstatic sound
was written on terrestrial things
afar or nigh around,
that i could think there trembled through
his happy good-night air
some blessed hope, whereof he knew
and i was unaware.

two tunes for two throstles