What? Yet Another Up-and-Coming Young America Composer in Our Concert?

Note: this post was originally written about a concert in Oct. 2017 that my own choir performed.

Well my goodness! So far I’ve written about the music in our concert from Anne Kilstofte, Dan Forrest, and Daniel Elder. All three are young and American, actively engaged in composing, arranging, teaching, conducting . . . you name it. To that list I now add Victor C. Johnson, the composer of our lovely opening piece, “Music in the Night.” I had looked up the author of the lyrics, Harriet Prescott Spofford, and found her life story to be quite interesting. She’s a good example of what was called a “lady writer” back in the late 1800’s-early 1900’s, turning out short stories, poems and novels to make money when her father’s business failed.

I guess I figured that the music was from the same time period, but au contraire, mes amis. Victor C. Johnson is very much with us, and totally with it. He had his first composition published when he was a sophomore in high school, in 1994. And he hasn’t stopped since. The copyright date for our piece is 2015, making it the most recent composition on our program.

Johnson took Spofford’s poem and trimmed it down considerably, keeping the essence of her first and last verses, modifying her wording somewhat,

Perhaps it would be helpful to see the two versions side by side:

Spofford’s version:

WHEN stars pursue their solemn flight,
Oft in the middle of the night,
A strain of music visits me,
Hushed in a moment silverly,—
Such rich and rapturous strains as make
The very soul of silence ache
With longing for the melody;

Or lovers in the distant dusk
Of summer gardens, sweet as musk,
Pouring the blissful burden out,
The breaking joy, the dying doubt;
Or revellers, all flown with wine,
And in a madness half divine,
Beating the broken tune about;

Or else the rude and rolling notes
That leave some strolling sailors’ throats,
Hoarse with the salt sprays, it may be,
Of many a mile of rushing sea;
Or some high-minded dreamer strays
Late through the solitary ways,
Nor heeds the listening night, nor me.

Or how or whence those tones be heard,
Hearing, the slumbering soul is stirred,
As when a swiftly passing light
Startles the shadows into flight;
While one remembrance suddenly
Thrills through the melting melody,—
A strain of music in the night.

Out of the darkness burst the song,
Into the darkness moves along:
Only a chord of memory jars,
Only an old wound burns its scars,
As the wild sweetness of the strain
Smites the heart with passionate pain,
And vanishes among the stars.

Johnson’s version:

WHEN stars pursue their solemn flight,
Oft in the middle of the night,
A strain of music visits me,
Hushed in a moment silvery,—
Such rich and noble strains
Make the very soul of silence ache.
Come listen to the music in the night.

Out of the darkness bursts the song,
As into the heaven it moves along.
And then as darkness bows
her head to breaking light
The mystical melody is lifted in flight.

So what is this mysterious “music in the night”? One answer, a perfectly legitimate one, is “anything you think it is, “ or “anything you want it to be.” I don’t think there’s just one idea that fits. For our other musical night piece, from The Phantom of the Opera, we know what that music is—the actual, literal music that the Phantom writes, specifically for Christine, that he hopes will win her heart. (Alas, no, as we also know.) But for this piece the meaning is much more vague. I’ve been thinking of it as being visited by the strains of a beautiful memory, and I love the line “such rich and noble strains make the very soul of silence ache.” Here I will bring in the original wording that follows that line, as in this one instance it helps clarify the meaning: “with longing for the melody.” When dawn comes, the memory takes flight. I like the line, “when darkness bows her head to breaking light.” A vivid image of night giving way to day.

Johnson has written music that beautifully fits the rather old-fashioned words. He apparently felt no need to sound particularly modern, which is why I was somewhat surprised to find out how young he is. This piece is listed on his website under “School Titles.” He teaches at a fine arts charter school in Forth Worth and directs the Texas Children’s Choir, but those activities are just a small slice of what he does. I would encourage you to visit his website. Be sure you’ve had your coffee before you do so, though, because just reading about his various endeavors is pretty exhausting. He must be one of those people who makes the most of every minute.

I’m sure we’re going to end up singing more by Mr. Johnson. In the meantime, I thought it would be fun to see him and Mrs. Spofford together. Quite a pair!