
Wilde in short:
The story of ‘The Nightingale and the Rose’ was written by Oscar Wilde (1854-1900), and published in 1888 as part of Wilde’s ‘fairy stories’ ‘The Happy Prince and Other Tales.’ Wilde is mostly known for his novel ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’ and his celebrity trial for “gross indecency for consensual homosexual acts.”

Paul Corfield Godfrey in short:
Born in London in 1950 and now residing in Wales, best known for his many musical settings of the works of J.R.R. Tolkien. Studied composition with Alan Bush and David Wynne. His compositions include four symphonies: various orchestral, chamber and instrumental works: songs and choral works: operas, including The Dialogues of Óisin and Saint Patric and Arcturus, both performed in Cardiff and elsewhere.
Website: https://www.paulcorfieldgodfrey.co.uk/
The story:
The Nightingale and the Rose tells of a tale of a Nightingale who overhears a student talking about the promise of a dance by his love in exchange for a red rose from his garden. Moved by his plight, the Nightingale searches the garden for a red rose but finds none. The Nightingale makes the ultimate sacrifice for the, totally oblivious, student to find a red rose. However, the professor’s daughter ultimately rejects him for jewels presented by a rival suitor.
I find the story lacking in use of refined (or floral) language and imagery, it is plainly written and nearly emotionless and blooms in a great lack of details – as reader you want to feel sorry for the Nightingale, but it doesn’t happen. Perhaps this is an artform I totally missed the point of, or, perhaps, it is a language barrier (I am a native Dutch speaker)1 – that is not to say that the story has no potential; to me it looks more like a sketch of a story not yet wholly written to its fullest potential. The composer (Paul Corfield Godfrey) is far more kind to the work than I am in his notes within the accompanying booklet to the compact disc. Perhaps justly so, as for an artist this story has great potential for expression into other arts.

The music:
Described as an ‘Operatic Fable’ by the composer he envisions a play with puppets and the singers mostly in the wings. However, the musical production of ‘The Lion King’ (dubbed the “dual event”) with the great puppets (created by Julie Taymor/Mike Grimm/Tim Lucas) comes to mind as a way of producing the singers on the stage in an alternative manner – though, costly as that might be.
The work opens with a single fading in of a ‘ruffling’ tambourine before going into the orchestra, which is a beautiful opening. The first singer we hear is Simon Crosby Buttle as the Student, firm as we have came used to through his other performances of the works of the composer. Shortly thereafter we meet the Nightingale voiced by Angharad Morgan who does a fantastic job. And the wordless singing (vocalising) after the first interlude is preciously wonderful. The full ‘natural love’ comes to blossom in this part as the Rose Trees (sung by Helen Greenaway (mezzo), Julian Boyce (baritone) and Jasey Hall (bass) and chorus) and the Nightingale sing together, and she makes the ultimate dramatic sacrifice. As sterile as the source text of the works seems to me at this point, so dramatically emotional and even tear drawing is the musical setting, orchestration, and performance. Great compliments to both the singers and the composer for being able to evocate such strong emotions. This is by far my most favourite part of the ‘operatic fable.’
The work was finished in 1976 when the composer was 26 years old and draws entirely from the original source material without any side steps. A staged production would last approx. 45 min.
In his notes with the full score the composer says the Nightingale need a lyrical soprano rather than a coloratura soprano. Perhaps that needs a little elaboration here. ‘Coloratura’ refers to the extensive use of ‘colouring’ or in musical terminology rather ‘ornamentation’ – perhaps best described as dances around a specific note with a voice or instrument, one could consider Maria Callas a ‘(dramatic) coloratura soprano.’ Roles that require such specifics include among many others, The Nightingale, from The Nightingale (Stravinsky), Tytania, from A Midsummer Night’s Dream (Britten), and Freia, from Der Ring des Nibelungen (Wagner). But mind you, that is not what the composer seeks, the composer seeks a ‘lyrical soprano,’ there are two generalized sub-categories of the ‘lyrical soprano’ the ‘light’ and the ‘full,’ the latter is required for (among others) Tatyana, from Eugene Onegin (Tchaikovsky), Liù, from Turandot (Puccini) and La Contessa, from The Marriage of Figaro (Mozart).
Crucial to the finale of the work is the very short part of ‘The Beloved’ (professor’s daughter), which is sung by Sophie Yelland, like a good actress she portrays her as cold and arrogant in the few words she had to sing. It is truly the orchestral emotions that follow the disappointed ‘Student’ that really finishes the work and creates a sense of “whole” as the music fades with the ‘ruffling’ of the tambourine which makes it full circle.
Website Volante Opera Productions: https://www.volanteopera.wales/
The Sphinx
An abridged version of the poem of the same name (by Oscar Wilde) has been edited by the composer himself for the purpose of setting it to music, focussing on the exotic (Egyptian) overtones. The 4:40 minutes lasting piece, opens initially as a choral and orchestral bombastic work. After the opening it calms down a bit and a wonderful warm baritone solo (sung by Julian Boyce) comes in and thereafter alternates nicely between the chorus, orchestra, and the baritone solo. By contrast this piece seems a bit more sturdy than much of his other work presented here which seems more flowingly – not a bad thing, just an observation. Another observation I must make is that the composer stays away from the stereotypical use of Egyptian music (both with scales and with orchestration) to which we became so accustomed by the many Egyptian inspired movies from the last century, which I find an absolute plus.
Hymnus Mysticus
A text by Aleister Crowley set to music by Godfrey in 6 parts, starting with a soprano solo (Mightiest self! …) (soprano Emma Mary Llewellyn) and chorus part with a heavy orchestration flowing into a beautiful, serene part with the baritone solo (All things which are…) (baritone Julian Boyce). This serenity continues into the next part (O soul of tears! for never…) which is again a soprano solo with chorus but end with a dramatic climax which continues into the next part (I sate upon the mossy promontory, …) which is a baritone solo with chorus which after its own climax calms down a bit within the orchestra and moves smoothly into the penultimate part (Where thou has trodden, …) for soprano and chorus. This part moves with the tension of a stream of water; flowing faster then slower, and then swelling before it falls down a waterfall. The final part of the Hymnus Mysticus (O secret self of things! …) is reserved for both the soloists and chorus together. Moving full of expectations before ending with the contemplation “that selfsame solitude”.
Conclusion:
It was very refreshing to hear music by Paul Corfield Godfrey that has nothing to do with his Tolkien-music, which was released in the last couple of years and has been a truly marvellous experience to behold. It proves that Corfield Godfrey is capable of setting many and various works art to music, a music that captures the artistic imagination of others and make it his own and reshare the fantastic and marvellous with us.
- It was only during the first proofreading of this text that I realized, to my chagrin, the clear stylistic parallels between Wilde’s story and the classic fairytales of Grimm and Andersen. This insight, which I regret not recognizing earlier, sheds new light on ‘The Nightingale and the Rose,’ potentially inviting a more appreciative perspective. Furthermore, a native English speaker kindly pointed out that British critics often regard Wilde’s text as overly elaborate. While this does not alter my personal opinion, it does provide valuable cultural context. ↩︎