I´ll give in Dublin two special soundscapes ,
My Percussion Concert ´s one ( – see what it takes …. ) ,
Then James Joyce Evening , words and tones and my
Reciting voice , reJoycing him and I .
Words and tones can sound and bend and cry:
” Verbum caro , carmen factum est …. “
Joyce rhapsodic , soaring rhythmic zest .
” Kinetic ” , synaesthetic tone-words fly .
This foam at the mouth in mad March air
Swirls and twirls my whitening hair ….
( But In another sense , there´s nothing there ,
´Cept air all singing plus a certain flair )
It´s a break from singed songs of Death and War
And Drones ( Atone ! ) and winter-bombs afar.
” I´ve known Frank Corcoran over eighty years …. “
I´ ve known Frank Corcoran over eighty years ,
I´ve forgiven his rhymings , fiddling ” fears ” with ” tears” ….
And rhapsodic verses , aerophonic thinking ,
The sheen of strings he loves , the brass all glinting
In a tutti blazing . ( There is nothing wrong
With orchestral tearing ; blaring your own song . )
Flying butresses there were in Frank´s long life ,
Sorrows also twisted the keen knife .
” He sought the right note ” , ” An Nóta Ceart ! “
We´ll chisel in stone ( – is also nearly art . )
Long before decline will wish to start .
Over eighty years his rambling grumbles
At time´s now hoary , gory rough -and -tumble .
But it behoves be proud , yet also humble .
I´ve forgiven his rhymings , fiddling ” fears ” with ” tears” ….
And rhapsodic verses , aerophonic thinking ,
The sheen of strings he loves , the brass all glinting
In a tutti blazing . ( There is nothing wrong
With orchestral tearing ; blaring your own song . )
Flying butresses there were in Frank´s long life ,
Sorrows also twisted the keen knife .
” He sought the right note ” , ” An Nóta Ceart ! “
We´ll chisel in stone ( – is also nearly art . )
Long before decline will wish to start .
Over eighty years his rambling grumbles
At time´s now hoary , gory rough -and -tumble .
But it behoves be proud , yet also humble .
” Astronomy in Mesolithic Time …. “
Astronomy in Mesolithic Times
Knew their winter-solstice had to rhyme
With future hope of food and of bear-hunt
Success ( apologize ! ) He bore the brunt
Of spears and sharpened dagger ( ” Sorry , bear ! ” )
Within , the desperate killing in its lair ,
Bear- steaks and fatty food for little child-
– Ren running bare-foot , tripping , cold and wild .
They knew the earth , their globe, it had to turn
Around again , or else they´d fully burn ,
While flirring , whirring , whizzing towards the sun ,
Or lost in outer space , full freezing done ,
Their mesolithic winter , shivering , fun ,
All glaciers gleaming like a nuclear gun.
Knew their winter-solstice had to rhyme
With future hope of food and of bear-hunt
Success ( apologize ! ) He bore the brunt
Of spears and sharpened dagger ( ” Sorry , bear ! ” )
Within , the desperate killing in its lair ,
Bear- steaks and fatty food for little child-
– Ren running bare-foot , tripping , cold and wild .
They knew the earth , their globe, it had to turn
Around again , or else they´d fully burn ,
While flirring , whirring , whizzing towards the sun ,
Or lost in outer space , full freezing done ,
Their mesolithic winter , shivering , fun ,
All glaciers gleaming like a nuclear gun.
” Sebastian Bach came by to quaff a glass …. “
Sebastian Bach came by to quaff a glass
At Cafe Zimmermann , Rhenish , fast ,
The score uncopied , soprano wobble dast-
-Ardly , Bach was hardly friendly …. Yet I asked :
” Music and suffering , Cantor ? Or the ” Pass-
-Us Duriusculus ? I´d like to ask …. “
” Get back to your counterpoint ! ” ( I was young and callow …. )
” Bend it to your will ! And stop being fallow ! “
Nearly blind, a son was leading , Friedemann .
” Will no one find me better weed in Zimmermann ´s ? “
Bach´s pipe gone out , his temper was not everyman´s ….
They left again , into the Leipzig dusk ,
Tobacco and wine – a little …. Well , es muss
Sein . That great forehead . long gone to dust .
At Cafe Zimmermann , Rhenish , fast ,
The score uncopied , soprano wobble dast-
-Ardly , Bach was hardly friendly …. Yet I asked :
” Music and suffering , Cantor ? Or the ” Pass-
-Us Duriusculus ? I´d like to ask …. “
” Get back to your counterpoint ! ” ( I was young and callow …. )
” Bend it to your will ! And stop being fallow ! “
Nearly blind, a son was leading , Friedemann .
” Will no one find me better weed in Zimmermann ´s ? “
Bach´s pipe gone out , his temper was not everyman´s ….
They left again , into the Leipzig dusk ,
Tobacco and wine – a little …. Well , es muss
Sein . That great forehead . long gone to dust .
” I love a first performance of a work …. “
I love a first performance of a work
Of mine , its sounding tones becoming time ,
And massed motifs and densities and lines
Of thought – the very air will wish to rhyme
With trellised themes , an ” idea ” gone berserk .
Sound´s made flesh , it births there one more time ,
Aerial architecture , points and lines
Of joy or horror ( Mozart´s in his lime …. ) .
It is a birth , a sonic celebration .
It sings ( or bows or plucks ) a ” story ” plain ,
Contorted , ornamented , performed pain..
There is a mystery going on , a gong
Being stroked or choked , a harp bass strong ,
The mystery of all this is very long .
Of mine , its sounding tones becoming time ,
And massed motifs and densities and lines
Of thought – the very air will wish to rhyme
With trellised themes , an ” idea ” gone berserk .
Sound´s made flesh , it births there one more time ,
Aerial architecture , points and lines
Of joy or horror ( Mozart´s in his lime …. ) .
It is a birth , a sonic celebration .
It sings ( or bows or plucks ) a ” story ” plain ,
Contorted , ornamented , performed pain..
There is a mystery going on , a gong
Being stroked or choked , a harp bass strong ,
The mystery of all this is very long .
” The seeds of conflict long are ripe, are rotten …. “
The seeds of conflict long are ripe , are rotten .
None foresees the future , not those who make it .
Sykes and Picot should not be forgotten….
Genocide ! We no more can fake it !
I´m reading ” PALESTINE PAPERS ” , desert capers
On donkey and on camel , drawing frontiers
After the Great War ( do not lose those papers ! ) .
Now it´s rotting children , ceased all black tears .
A sonnet can but warn . Carpentry squeaks
Its Caoine while the juice of dead lads leaks .
A bomb-dumb -or -deaf hero ´s spittle speaks
These seeds of conflict , germinating long
Their Phrygian song of bitter , ancient wrong ,
Is this now Armageddon ? ( Ding , dong , gong …. )
None foresees the future , not those who make it .
Sykes and Picot should not be forgotten….
Genocide ! We no more can fake it !
I´m reading ” PALESTINE PAPERS ” , desert capers
On donkey and on camel , drawing frontiers
After the Great War ( do not lose those papers ! ) .
Now it´s rotting children , ceased all black tears .
A sonnet can but warn . Carpentry squeaks
Its Caoine while the juice of dead lads leaks .
A bomb-dumb -or -deaf hero ´s spittle speaks
These seeds of conflict , germinating long
Their Phrygian song of bitter , ancient wrong ,
Is this now Armageddon ? ( Ding , dong , gong …. )
Lutoslawski’s ” LIVRE
Lutoslawski’s ” LIVRE ” – my heart is on my sleeve !
Those sound- bits and bites , his ” BOOK ” gives reprieve
To me who’ ve bathed in masterworks galore ….
( They oft transported me to the other shore …. )
But his work goes much further with my heart ,
So fully rent by high orchestral art ,
His lines and fragments lived , a suffered store
Of human ( few men’s ) ” joy” ecstatic . More .
Of course great music hides the little self .
Lutoslawski’s LIVRE ignores the shelf
On which I sit too long , a patient Guelph
Who waits for new prevailing winds to show
My music’s language , ( how the winds did blow
In works of my fickle past , Nono . Oh , NO ! )
” Grave and gravestone planning , oh what fun ! “
from Frank Corcoran A THOUSAND TERRIBLE SONNETS
Grave and gravestone planning , oh what fun !
Chisel , hammer , peperino stone ,
” He sought the right note ” , ” an no´ta ceart ” .
Even the seeking , is that too , not art ?
Peperino stone´s quite friendly , fights
” The goodly fight ” ( And here St. Paul was right …. ) .
The chisel chips a jolly script in stone .
It dares to say my pilgrim´s prayer is one
With all our proud taunting of friend , Time ,
( The chisel´s wiggle , faint heart , Mozart´s lime ….
Memento mori , clay and humus , slime …. )
The tombstone chiseller ´s dancing with The Leveller ,
No place here for mourner , any sniveller .
Each cut word is precious for the traveller .
Grave and gravestone planning , oh what fun !
Chisel , hammer , peperino stone ,
” He sought the right note ” , ” an no´ta ceart ” .
Even the seeking , is that too , not art ?
Peperino stone´s quite friendly , fights
” The goodly fight ” ( And here St. Paul was right …. ) .
The chisel chips a jolly script in stone .
It dares to say my pilgrim´s prayer is one
With all our proud taunting of friend , Time ,
( The chisel´s wiggle , faint heart , Mozart´s lime ….
Memento mori , clay and humus , slime …. )
The tombstone chiseller ´s dancing with The Leveller ,
No place here for mourner , any sniveller .
Each cut word is precious for the traveller .
MONDAY MARCH 3, 2025 ,7.30 James Joyce Centre Dublin FRANK CORCORAN / JAMES JOYCE
MONDAY MARCH 3 . 7.30 James Joyce Centre Dublin FRANK CORCORAN / JAMES JOYCE
Frank Corcoran: Three Pieces for Guitar (1975)
Frank Corcoran: Joycespeak Musik (for tape, 1995)
Frank Corcoran: Seven Points about Joyce as an irish Composer (a text narrated by Frank Corcoran)
Frank Corcoran:Joyceana (2015, for cello)
Frank Corcoran:Snap-shot (2010, for cello)
Georg Hajdu: To Market Music (2024, for guitar & narrator; text by Frank Corcoran) Frank Corcoran narrating. Irish Premiere.
Frank Corcoran: ‘Agnus Dei’ from Quasi Una Missa (1999, for tape)
Benjamin Dwyer: Sing the Word Only (2024, for guitar & narrator; text by Frank Corcoran) Frank Corcoran narrating. Irish Premiere.
Benjamin Dwyer: Guitar
Paul Grennan: Cello
Frank Corcoran: Narration
James Joyce Centre: 7.30pm, Monday 3 March 2025.
Free entry, with complimentary wine/soft drinks afterwards.
Sundays at Noon present: Music from Mythic Ireland March 2nd 2025- Frank Corcoran
Date and time
Sunday, March 2 · 12 – 1pm GMT. Doors at 11:59am
Location
Hugh Lane Gallery
Parnell Square North D01 F2X9 Dublin 1
Show map
About this event
Sundays at Noon cocert series present:
MUSIC AND WORDS FROM MYTHIC IRELAND – Frank Corcoran
Frank Corcoran : recitation, Early Irish Lyrics, piano
RIAM Percussion Ensemble , conductor Richard O’´Donnell.
Programme
Frank Corcoran : TRAUERFELDER/ GOIRT AN BHRÓIN
Frank Corcoran : MUSIC FOR THE BOOK OF KELLS
Frank Corcoran
“I came late to art music; childhood soundscapes live on. The best work with imagination/intellect must be exorcistic-laudatory-excavatory. I am a passionate believer in “Irish” dream-landscape, two languages, polyphony of history, not ideology or programme. No Irish composer has yet dealt adequately with our past. The way forward – newest forms and technique (for me especially macro-counterpoint) – is the way back to deepest human experience.”
Born in Borrisokane, County Tipperary, Corcoran studied at Dublin, Maynooth (1961–4), Rome (1967–9) and Berlin (1969–71), where he was a pupil of Boris Blacher. He was a music inspector for the Irish government Department of Education from 1971 to 1979, after which he took up a composer fellowship from the Berlin Künstlerprogramm (1980–1). He has taught in Berlin (1981), Stuttgart (1982) and Hamburg, where he has been professor of composition and theory in the Staatliche Hochschule für Musik und darstellende Kunst (1983–2008). He was a visiting professor and Fulbright scholar at the University of Wisconsin–Milwaukee in the U.S. in 1989-90 and has been a guest lecturer at CalArts, Harvard University, Princeton University, Boston College, New York University, and Indiana University.
Corcoran has been a member of Aosdána, the Irish academy of creative artists, since its inception in 1983. He was the first Irish composer to have had a symphony premiered in Vienna (1st Symphony, Symphonies of Symphonies of Wind, in 1981).
Corcoran lives in Germany and Italy.
Sunday, March 2 · 12 – 1pm GMT. Doors at 11:59am
Location
Hugh Lane Gallery
Parnell Square North D01 F2X9 Dublin 1
Show map
About this event
Sundays at Noon cocert series present:
MUSIC AND WORDS FROM MYTHIC IRELAND – Frank Corcoran
Frank Corcoran : recitation, Early Irish Lyrics, piano
RIAM Percussion Ensemble , conductor Richard O’´Donnell.
Programme
Frank Corcoran : TRAUERFELDER/ GOIRT AN BHRÓIN
Frank Corcoran : MUSIC FOR THE BOOK OF KELLS
Frank Corcoran
“I came late to art music; childhood soundscapes live on. The best work with imagination/intellect must be exorcistic-laudatory-excavatory. I am a passionate believer in “Irish” dream-landscape, two languages, polyphony of history, not ideology or programme. No Irish composer has yet dealt adequately with our past. The way forward – newest forms and technique (for me especially macro-counterpoint) – is the way back to deepest human experience.”
Born in Borrisokane, County Tipperary, Corcoran studied at Dublin, Maynooth (1961–4), Rome (1967–9) and Berlin (1969–71), where he was a pupil of Boris Blacher. He was a music inspector for the Irish government Department of Education from 1971 to 1979, after which he took up a composer fellowship from the Berlin Künstlerprogramm (1980–1). He has taught in Berlin (1981), Stuttgart (1982) and Hamburg, where he has been professor of composition and theory in the Staatliche Hochschule für Musik und darstellende Kunst (1983–2008). He was a visiting professor and Fulbright scholar at the University of Wisconsin–Milwaukee in the U.S. in 1989-90 and has been a guest lecturer at CalArts, Harvard University, Princeton University, Boston College, New York University, and Indiana University.
Corcoran has been a member of Aosdána, the Irish academy of creative artists, since its inception in 1983. He was the first Irish composer to have had a symphony premiered in Vienna (1st Symphony, Symphonies of Symphonies of Wind, in 1981).
Corcoran lives in Germany and Italy.