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It's Over

Tenor Voice,Vocal Solo - Level 5 - SKU: A0.533282 Composed by Gregory Sullivan Isaacs. Contemporary,Holiday,Love. 21 pages. Musik Fabrik Music Publishing #2331251. Published by Musik Fabrik Music Publishing (A0.533282). Whitman only published one book â€“ Leaves of Grass â€“ but it was always a work in progress. He added poems and revised others for each succeeding edition. Thus, the first edition (1819) was a small book with only 12 poems and the last, often refered to as the Deathbed Edition (1892), contained over 400. Some of these he wrote in â€œclustersâ€ of related poems. Such is the case with the Calamus cluster. The title was chosen to alert the reader that these were poems about what he called â€œthe love of comrades,â€ â€œmanly loveâ€ or with the code word, â€œadhesiveness.â€ The concept of homosexuality, as we know it today, was very different in Whitmanâ€™s time, but violently socially taboo. Acorus calamus is a reed-like species of marsh grass. In Poetry and Prose, Whitman wrote that it s a â€¦ very large and aromatic grass, or root, spears three feet highâ€”often called 'sweet flag'â€”grows all over the Northern and Middle States.â€ The phallic plant has always been a symbol of love and associated with the Greek myth of Kalamos, son of the river god who loved the youth Karpos. When Karpos died in a swimming accident, Kalamos transformed himself into a reed so he could always be near the spot where his beloved died, and the rustling of the reeds in the winds sounds like moans of mourning. The Calamus cluster, 39 poems in all, recount the story of a manly love found and lost from the perspective of some time later. They are bittersweet memories. I chose four poems for my own cluster. They represent the four stages of such a relationship: initial attraction, first coy interactions, full-blossomed love, and the bitterness of itâ€™s ending. It is possible that these events actually happened or that they all occurred in the poets mind without ever revealing his thoughts to the intended. Some musical devices, such as the rustling of the leaves in the third song and the constant use of seconds as two people who are close but not yet together in the second one, are obvious. But, other than some indications of tempo, I hesitate to give out remarks about how to perform the songs, or even metronome markings, that might give the singer a preconceived notion. This situation has happened to everyone. So, I say to the singer: revive the memories of a similar event in your life: a particularly heartbreaking one is best. Bring the telling of that memory to the vivid present, and tell us that story as if it ending some time ago but the hurt remains strong, If, by some chance, the singer has not had this experience, he should wait to sing this cycle until he has. The composer

Gregory Sullivan Isaacs: Elegy on the Quilt for tenor voice and piano #Voix Tenor #INTERMÉDIAIRE/AVANCÉ #Gregory Sullivan Isaacs #Gregory Sullivan Isaacs: Elegy #Musik Fabrik Music Publishing #SheetMusicPlus

Tenor Voice,Vocal Solo - Level 4 - SKU: A0.534586 Composed by Gregory Sullivan Isaacs. Concert,Contemporary,Standards. 12 pages. Musik Fabrik Music Publ...(+)

Tenor Voice,Vocal Solo - Level 4 - SKU: A0.534586 Composed by Gregory Sullivan Isaacs. Concert,Contemporary,Standards. 12 pages. Musik Fabrik Music Publishing #4729123. Published by Musik Fabrik Music Publishing (A0.534586). Part of the AIDS memorial songbook, this melody for tenor voice and piano has an orginal text by the composer: It was still dark.The dawn had not yet arrived.He stood quietly, looking out over the field.,soon to be filled with patches of grief.Monuments to great men,grey against the pre-dawn sky,reminded him of the Great Dream:We are all equal under Law, it promised.We are all equal under Law.He smiled wryly at the thought.The keepers of that Dream still keep it for themselves,only- releasing what little part what group or anothercan wrest away.The unfolding began.Each patch holds the grief of dozens:friends, family.Amercia's children left to die alone.Amercia's children left to diebecause of who they were, who they had to be.Fully open now.Small groups wander here and there.searching, looking,Afraid that the edges wait for them.Afraid that the edges wait for them.Some already gathering scraps of cloth.Finally, he moves at last.Finally with enough courage to go look.His thoughts warmly dwell on him who made it.The one whose devotion was unquestioned.whose love was always present.Having seen it, he was cotent to move on towhatever was to come.His patch was there.ï»¿

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