Lee Hoiby, Master of Opera and Song, Dies at 85

from Schott Music Corporation

It is with the deepest sadness that we report the death of composer Lee Hoiby, one of the greatest masters of opera and song of our time. Mr. Hoiby died on March 28, 2011 at Montefiore Hospital in New York City, following a short illness.

Lee Hoiby's gift for musical fantasy was a constant throughout a long life of boundless creative output. His rich catalog of works encompasses operas, oratorios, choral works, concerti, chamber works, song cycles, and more than 100 songs, many of them championed by such singers as Leontyne Price, Frederica von Stade, and Marilyn Horne, among many others. Hoiby's commitment to tonality remained steadfast throughout his compositional life, even when such an allegiance was considered unfashionable. His music uniquely combines joyous melodic invention with structural rigor and it was in the seclusion of the Catskill mountain countryside where he made his home that he found the peaceful balance of art and life he so cherished.

Lee Hoiby, born in Madison, Wisconsin on February 17, 1926, was one of America's most prominent composers of works for the lyric stage. He was introduced to opera by his teacher at the Curtis Institute of Music, Gian Carlo Menotti, who involved him closely in the famed Broadway productions of The Consul and The Saint of Bleecker Street. Hoiby's first opera, The Scarf, a chamber opera in one-act, was recognized by Time Magazine and the Italian press as the hit of the first Spoleto (Italy) Festival. His next opera, Natalia Petrovna (New York City Opera), now known in its revised version as A Month in the Country, was universally praised by the press at its premiere, the closing octet called a work "of overwhelming beauty, a supreme moment in opera comparable to the Meistersinger quintet and theRosenkavalier trio." Hoiby's setting of Tennessee Williams' Summer and Smoke (with libretto by Lanford Wilson) was declared "the finest American opera to date" following its world premiere. The 40th anniversary of the debut of this landmark American opera was celebrated with a new production at the Manhattan School of Music in December, 2010, which Mr. Hoiby attended. Hoiby recently completed what would become his last opera, a setting of Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, with a libretto adapted from the Shakespeare play by Mark Shulgasser. Romeo and Juliet awaits its world premiere.

A pianistic child prodigy, Hoiby's earliest influences included several powerful musical personalities representing numerous strains of the 20th-century avant-garde. Among them was the renowned Pro Arte Quartet, led by Rudolf Kolisch, Arnold Schoenberg's son-in-law. Ironically, they pierced Hoiby not with their dodecaphonic fervor, but with their echt central-European musical traditions. During the period immediately following WW II, he also performed in Harry Partch's Dadaist ensembles, studied with Darius Milhaud at Mills College and pursued a virtuoso career as a concert pianist under the tutelage of Gunnar Johansen and Egon Petri.

Hoiby spoke recently about his long life of composing: "For me, composing music bears some likeness to archeology. It requires patient digging, searching for the treasure; the ability to distinguish between a treasure and the rock next to it and recognizing when you're digging in the wrong place. The archeologist takes a soft brush and brushes away a half-teaspoon at a time. Musically, that would be a few notes, or a chord. Sometimes the brushing reveals an especially lovely thing, buried there for so long."

Among Mr. Hoiby’s operatic works are the one-act opera buffa Something New for the Zoo (1979), the musical monologue The Italian Lesson (1981, text by Ruth Draper) which was produced off-Broadway in 1989 with Jean Stapleton, and a one-act chamber opera, This Is the Rill Speaking (1992, text by Lanford Wilson, adapted by Shulgasser). Hoiby was a long-time collaborator with Brooklyn's American Opera Projects, having held a chair as Mentor Composer on AOP’s Composer and the Voice program for two seasons. In 2006, AOP commissioned a setting of Thomas Hardy’s poem The Darkling Thrushas part of the multi-media opera production Darkling. AOP also co-produced the first professional and orchestrated performances of This Is the Rill Speaking in April of 2008 at SUNY Purchase and at New York City’s Symphony Space, led by conductor Benton Hess and directed by Ned Canty.

Hoiby's contribution to the art song repertoire (over 100 songs) is recognized by singers worldwide. The great American soprano Leontyne Price introduced many of his best known songs and arias to the public. His musical idiom displayed a grateful acceptance of the rich legacy of melodic homophony, embracing references from Monteverdi to American blues without sounding eclectic or piecemeal. "What I learned from Schubert," Hoiby commented "came from a long, deep and loving exposure to his songs. A lot happens on a subconscious level, so it's hard to verbalize, but what I think his songs taught me have to do primarily with the line, the phrasing, the tessitura, the accentuations of speech, the careful consideration of vowels, the breathing required, and an extremely economical use of accompaniment material, often the same figure going through the whole song." Hoiby’s choral music is widely performed throughout North America and in England including such works as the Christmas cantata A Hymn of the Nativity (text by Richard Crashaw), the oratorio Galileo Galilei (libretto by Barrie Stavis), and a substantial group of works for chorus and orchestra on texts of Walt Whitman.

Hoiby's music can be heard on virtually every major record label. The Manhattan School of Music Opera Theater revived Hoiby's opera A Month in the Country and recorded it for Albany Records in 2005 and their recent recording of Summer and Smoke will be released later this year, also on Albany. In 2009, Naxos released an album of the composer’s art songs entitled A Pocket of Time. Among the many distinguished artists and organizations that have commissioned him are New York City Opera, the Spoleto Festival, Santa Fe Chamber Music Festival, American Opera Projects, The Washington Cathedral, Choral Arts Society of Washington, The Verdehr Trio, the Dorian Wind Quintet, the Ames Piano Quartet, Phyllis Bryn-Julson, the Richard Tucker Foundation, Yale University Institute of Sacred Music, American Guild of Organists, Mercersburg College, and Cantus. Lee Hoiby’s works have been recognized by awards and grants from the Guggenheim Foundation, the National Institute of Arts and Letters, the Ford Foundation, the Fulbright Commission and the National Endowment for the Arts.

Recent works by Lee Hoiby include Jacob's Ladder, for mixed chorus, organ and brass quintet, composed for the re-dedication of the Cathedral of St. John the Divine in Manhattan in 2008; Last Letter Home, Hoiby's 2007 musical setting of Pfc. Jesse Givens' note home to his family before perishing in Iraq which very quickly became one of the most performed contemporary choral works with versions for men's chorus, SATB chorus with string orchestra, piano or string quartet, and for solo baritone and piano; And The Waters Flow, for mixed chorus, children's chorus, bass, harp and organ; and The Christmas Tree, a rapturous holiday offering available in versions for SATB chorus a cappella and with orchestra. A consortia of university and professional opera companies is currently in formation for the world premiere run of Hoiby's opera Romeo and Juliet in the 2012/13 season.

Lee Hoiby is survived by his partner and longtime collaborator Mark Shulgasser. In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to the American Virtuosi Foundation, Inc. for the support of the Lee Hoiby Institute for American Music. Please visit www.leehoibyinstitute.org for further information which will be active after March 29.

A memorial service at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine will be held on a date to be announced later this spring.

Lee Hoiby at Schott Music
www.leehoiby.com

Though we were unable to print texts for this week's recital, you may review them here. While the Copland and Kohn texts, being folk and popular songs of their day may be straightforward, much of the rest is either sophisticated poetry, otherwise unusual combinations of words, or in the case of "Charlie Rutlage" spoken word over a ruckus piano part in a Texas dialect.

Hope to see there.

Thursday evening, March 17, 201 7PM at Kulas Chamber Hall Baldwin-Wallace college.

The Boatmen’s Dance

The boatmen dance, the boatmen sing,

The boatmen up to ev'rything,

And when the boatman gets on shore

He spends his cash and works for more.

High row the boatmen row,

Floatin' down the river the Ohio.

Then dance the boatmen dance,

O dance the boatmen dance.

O dance all night 'til broad daylight,

And go home with the gals in the mornin'.

High row the boatmen row. . .  etc

I went on board the other day

To see what the boatmen had to say.

There I let my passion loose

An' they cram me in the callaboose.

O dance the boatmen dance. . .

High row the boatmen row . . .   etc

The boatman is a thrifty man,

There's none can do as the boatman can.

I never see a pretty gal in my life

But that she was a boatman's wife.

O dance the boatmen dance. . .

High row the boatmen row. . .  etc

The Little Horses

Hush you bye,

Don't you cry,

Go to sleepy little baby.

When you wake,

You shall have,

All the pretty little horses.

Blacks and bays,

Dapples and grays,

Coach and six-a little horses.

Blacks and bays,

Dapples and grays,

Coach and six-a little horses.

Hush you bye,

Don't you cry,

Go to sleepy little baby.

When you wake,

You'll have sweet cake and

All the pretty little horses.

A brown and gray and a black and a bay and a

Coach and six-a little horses.

A black and a bay ad a brown and a gray and a

Coach and six-a little horses.

Hush you bye,

Don't you cry,

Oh you pretty little baby.

Go to sleepy little baby.

Oh you pretty little baby.

The Dodger

Yes the candidate's a dodger,

Yes a well-known dodger.

Yes the candidate's a dodger,

Yes and I'm a dodger too.

He'll meet you and treat you,

And ask you for your vote.

But look out boys,

He's a-dodgin' for your note.

Yes we're all dodgin'

A-dodgin', dodgin', dodgin'.

Yes we're all dodgin'

Out away through the world.

Yes the preacher he's a dodger,

Yes a well-known dodger.

Yes the preacher he's a dodger,

Yes and I'm a dodger too.

He'll preach you a gospel,

And tell you of your crimes.

But look out boys,

He's a-dodgin' for your dimes.

Yes we're all dodgin' . . . etc.

Yes the lover he's a dodger,

Yes a well-known dodger.

Yes the lover he's a dodger,

Yes and I'm a dodger too.

He'll hug you and kiss you,

And call you his bride,

But look out girls,

He's a-tellin' you a lie.

Yes we're all dodgin' . . . etc.

Ching-a-ring chaw

Ching-a-ring-a ring ching ching,

Hoa dinga ding kum larkee,

Ching-a-ring-a ring ching ching,

Hoa ding kum larkee.

Brothers gather round,

Listen to this story,

'Bout the promised land,

An' the promised glory.

You don' need to fear,

If you have no money,

You don' need none there,

To buy you milk and honey.

There you'll ride in style,

Coach with four white horses,

There the evenin' meal,

Has one two three four courses.

Nights we all will dance

To the harp and fiiddle,

Waltz and jig and prance,

"Cast off down the middle!"

When the mornin' come,

All in grand and spendour,

Stand out in the sun,

And hear the holy thunder.

Brothers hear me out,

The promised land's a-comin'

Dance and sing and shout,

I hear them harps a strummin'.

Beggar’s Song

Good people keep their holy day,
They rest from labor on a Sunday;
But we keep holy every day,
And rest from Monday until Monday.

And yet the noblest work on earth
Is done when beggars do their part:
They work, dear ladies, on the soft
And tender feelings in your heart.

Sure on this Shining Night James Agee

Sure on this shining night
Of star made shadows round,
Kindness must watch for me
This side the ground.
The late year lies down the north.
All is healed, all is health.
High summer holds the earth.
Hearts all whole.
Sure on this shining night I weep for wonder wand'ring far
alone
Of shadows on the stars.

Nocturne Frederic Prokosch

Close my darling both your eyes
Let your arms lie still at last
Calm the lake of falsehood lies,
And the wind of lust has passed,
Waves across these hopeless sands
Fill my heart and end my day.
Underneath your moving hands
All my aching flows away
Even the human pyramids
Blaze with such a longing now:
Close, my love, your trembling lids,
Let the midnight heal your brow.
Northward flames Orion's horn
Westward the Egyptian light.
None watch us, none to warn
But the blind eternal night.

I Hear an Army James Joyce

I hear an army charging upon the land,

And the thunder of horses plunging, foam about their knees:

Arrogant, in black armour, behind them stand,

Disdaining the reins, with flutt'ring whips, the charioteers.

They cry unto the night their battlename:

I moan in sleep when I hear afar their whirling laughter.

They cleave the gloom of dreams, a blinding flame,

Clanging, clanging upon the heart as upon an anvil.

They come shaking in triumph their long, green hair:

They come out of the sea and run shouting by the shore.

My heart, have you no wisdom thus to despair?

My love, my love, why have you left me alone?

Charlie Rutlage

Another good cowpuncher has gone to meet his fate,

I hope he'll find a resting place, within the golden gate.

Another place is vacant on the ranch of the X I T,

'Twill be hard to find another that's liked as well as he.

The first that died was Kid White, a man both tough and brave,

While Charlie Rutlage makes the third to be sent to his grave,

Caused by a cowhorse falling, while running after stock;

'Twas on the spring round up, a place where death men mock,

He went forward one morning on a circle through the hills,

He was gay and full of glee, and free from earthly ills;

But when it came to finish up the work on which he went,

Nothing came back from him; his time on earth was spent.

'Twas as he rode the round up, a XIT turned back to the herd;

Poor Charlie shoved him in again, his cutting horse he spurred;

Another turned; at that moment his horse the creature spied

And turned and fell with him, beneath poor Charlie died,

His relations in Texas his face never more will see,

But I hope he'll meet his loved ones beyond in eternity,

I hope he'll meet his parents, will meet them face to face,

And that they'll grasp him by the right hand at the shining throne of grace.

Serenity John Greenleaf Whittier

O, Sabbath rest of Galilee!

O, calm of hills above,

Where Jesus knelt to share with Thee,

the silence of eternity

Interpreted by love.

Drop Thy still dews of quietness,

till all our strivings cease:

Take from our souls the strain and stress,

and let our ordered lives confess,

the beauty of thy peace.

The Greatest Man Anne Collins

My teacher said us boys should write

about some great man, so I thought last night

'n thought about heroes and men

that had done great things,

'n then I got to thinkin' 'bout my pa;

he ain't a hero 'r anything but pshaw!

Say! He can ride the wildest hoss

'n find minners near the moss

down by the creek; 'n he can swim

'n fish, we ketched five new lights, me 'n him!

Dad's some hunter too - oh, my!

Miss Molly Cottontail sure does fly

when he tromps through the fields 'n brush!

(Dad won't kill a lark 'r thrush.)

Once when I was sick 'n though his hands were rough

he rubbed the pain right out. "That's the stuff!"

he said when I winked back the tears. He never cried

but once 'n that was when my mother died.

There're lots o' great men: George Washinton 'n Lee,

but Dad's got 'em all beat holler, seems to me!

He is There John McCrae

Fifteen years ago today

A little Yankee, little yankee boy

Marched beside his granddaddy

In the decoration day parade.

The village band would play

those old war tunes,

and the G. A. R. would shout,

"Hip Hip Hooray!" in the same old way,

As it sounded on the old camp ground.

That boy has sailed o'er the ocean,

He is there, he is there, he is there.

He's fighting for the right,

but when it comes to might,

He is there, he is there, he is there;

As the Allies beat up all the warlords!

He'll be there, he'll be there,

and then the world will shout

the Battle-cry of Freedom

Tenting on a new camp ground.

For it's rally round the Flag boys

Rally once again,

Shouting the battle cry of Freedom.

Fifteen years ago today

A little Yankee, with a German name

Heard the tale of "forty-eight"

Why his Granddaddy joined Uncle Sam,

His fathers fought that medieval stuff

and he will fight it now;

"Hip Hip Hooray! this is the day,"

When he'll finish up that aged job.

That boy has sailed o'er the ocean...

There's a time in ev'ry life,

When it's do or die, and our yankee boy

Does his bit that we may live,

In a world where all may have a "say."

He's conscious always of his country's aim

which is Liberty for all,

"Hip Hip Hooray!" is all he'll say,

As he marches to the Flanders front.

That boy has sailed o'er the ocean...

American Folk Set

“Ten Thousand Miles Away” premiered November 23, 2002, Carnegie Hall David Daniels, countertenor, Martin Katz, piano ; “The Gallows Tree” : September 21, 2007, Mills Hall at the University of Wisconsin, Madison, Andrew Garland, baritone, Martha Saywell, piano ; Tonight is the premiere of “Hell in Texas” premiered November 21, 2008, Carnegie Hall, Andrew Garland, baritone, Donna Loewy, piano.

"10,000 Miles Away"

Sing I for a brave and a gallant barque;

for a stiff and a ratling breeze,

A bully crew and a captain true,

to carry me o’er the seas.

To carry me o’er the seas, my boys,

to my true love so gay,

who went on a trip on a Government ship

ten thousand miles away!

Oh, blow, ye winds, hi oh!

a roaming I will go.

I’ll stay no more on England’s shore

so let the music play.

I’ll start by the morning train

to cross the raging main,

for I’m on the road to my own true love,

ten thousand miles away.

My true love she was handsome,

my true love she was young

Her eyes were blue as the violet’s hue.

and silv’ry was the sound of her tongue.

And silv’ry was the sound of her tongue, my boys,

and while I sing this lay,

she’s a-doing of the grand in a far off land,

ten thousand miles away.

Oh, blow, ye winds, hi oh!

A roaming I will go.

I’ll stay no more on England’s shore,

so let the music play.

I’ll start by the morning train

to cross the raging main!

For I’m on the road to my

On the Other Shore

I have a mother gone to glory,

On the other shore.

By and by I’ll go to meet her,

On the other shore.

Won’t that be a happy meetin’

On the other shore.

There we’ll see our good old neighbors

On the other shore.

There we’ll see our blessed savior

On the other shore.

The Farmer’s Curst Wife

There was an old man at the foot of the hill.

If he ain’t moved away, he’s a’livin’ there still.