Migratory Birds

Migratory birds is a song cycle composed for Coloratura Voice, Flute and Piano. Written during the COVID-19 pandemic, I was inspired by the silence that blanketed the nation. While we limited our movements and use of cars and other forms of transport, the sounds of the natural world suddenly burst into vibrancy.

Due to a personal illness, I was made to self-isolate for six months. Within these six months I had the opportunity to be able to sit out in my garden. Come spring, my ears were filled with a an abundance of birdsong due to the mating season. I would listen and try to accurately notate the rhythms and melody, and the idea came to me to write a song cycle, inspired by birdsong and with lyrics included, that could accurately describe how I was feeling sitting in the garden listening to the birds.

Before the pandemic, I had the pleasure of listening to my friend, Jean-Clara Cartwright, sing Rimsky-Korsakov’s The nightingale enslaved by the rose. The song was about a nightingale, and the singer’s voice would reach incredibly high notes to try to mimic the nightingale’s birdsong. The nightingale enslaved by the rose inspired me to write my composition as a song cycle which featured birdsong.

I chose the instrumentation of a Coloratura soprano, flute and piano, as I knew that I wanted the instruments to be able to create very high sounds whilst also staying grounded, with a full tone. The flute seemed like an obvious addition to the voice and piano as it was able to create breathy tones, and also provide support when mimic birdsong. Unlike the Rimsky-Korsakov piece, which was for voice and piano only, the use of the flute enabled me to open up the space in which I could create birdsong. I didn’t just want one bird singing, I wanted to hear a whole chorus of birds! Much like the ones I heard when sitting and listening to them in the garden.

There are many melodies and rhythms within Migratory Birds that are inspired by birdsong. Even the first bar of the Migratory Birds song cycle contains a coal-tit’s birdsong melody and rhythm. Whilst this has been hinted at throughout the first song How far does the swallow go? And also through most of Metamorphosis, it is not until final section of Metamorphosis that the listeners are drawn to this revelation by the singer that these rhythms in the distance are actually birdsong (using the song of the coal-tit, and woodpecker pecking). This is again made more obvious at the end of the third song Nostos.

The first song in the Migratory Birds song cycle, How far does the swallow go? introduces the listener into the world and mindset in which I was in when I was composing the song cycle. Lyrics such as “over the hills” and “across the sea” feature the use of wordpainting. There is no specific key as birds don’t sing to a particular key and I wanted to create the sense of a journey, with movement but also room for thought.

In the second song, Metamorphosis the idea of the singer and flute both metamorphosing into birds wasn’t even a question, as it felt incredibly natural to write. This was because throughout the development of the song cycle, I was embodying myself within the birds around me – using them to be able to go to the places that I couldn’t go, due to my self-isolation. In a way, I also envisioned myself as a sort of bird, as I travelled a lot in the past. The singer and flautist are asked to use extended techniques, including whistling (voice); tongue pizzicato (flute); aeolian air sounds (flute); and approximating pitch to try to mimic the cacophony of birdsong in a raw and sometimes unsettling way. The piano acted as a grounding for the singer and flautist – Often providing an octave note to help them pitch, and also giving more of a tonal centre to the pieces (as it did with the other pieces in the cycle). Because I am a classically trained singer, as well as a pianist, and violinist (and I have dabbled in the flute) I took great care in trying to make sure that the extended techniques used, and the structure and phrasing of the song were possible.

I wanted to bring the singer and flautist back to a more traditional sense of music in the final song, and so the concept of Nostos meaning ‘to return home’ in ancient Greek, came about. Often Ancient Greek heroes would have Nostos stories after a long journey, and I felt that this song cycle encapsulated a long journey – not only of birds migrating and the complexities of that natural phenomena, but also of a personal journey I experienced when composing this piece. The speed, intensity and excitement at the beginning of Nostos reminds me of a flock of birds whizzing around, like a flight of swallows in the sky. This resolves with a calm statement from the singer, grounding both the flautist and the singer, and also allows the room for a last cacophonic burst from the birds, until it is finally time to walk away from that soundscape.