 Can I just restart? This is a multimedia day as you can see. We're starting Professor Norris' session first of all with some music and then he is talking to us, but there probably won't be time for questions at the end. Thank you. I'd like to introduce George Parris and the Carras Singers, who will start by singing Harold Noble's setting of Livgate's poem, Henry IV, Adolfo, and then joined by the ladies of the Carras Singers after I've spoken for a little bit, they will end the session by singing Edward Rendle's dramatic ballad, And in Caughton, which is a setting of Draton. So this is Livgate. I'll give you a deal. Helen Deeming has written a marw's article in The Music, where she suggests that it may have originated as a unison effusion in London, which Mark Henry's victorious return, and that it was later in East Anglia worked up in the counterpoint that the unison only retained as a reminder of the original occasion. This facsimile of the Adolfo Carras, which you'll get to know better, was published by FullerMate. In his general history of music, Charles Burnley presents his transcription with a very difficult dismissiveness, a faithful copy of this venerable relic of our nation's prowess and glory in the beginning of the 15th century. From which we are perhaps entitled to more, however, than from the poetry and music with which they were then celebrated, which Echeops, the comment in Perse's relics of 1765, which had presented the lyrics without the tune, that our plain and martial ancestors could wield their swords much better than their penins, will appear from the following homely rhymes. None of these 18th-century publications, nor some ghastly reharmonisations by Edward Rhyngold in 1847 and William Chappell in 1855, succeeded in establishing the cowl in the public mind. In fact, Adolfo's musical legacy took almost 500 years to arrive. The battle merits a brief mention, along with Chrissy, in a patriotic pop-boiler of 1803 by Charles Dibb-Dibb, and those here has lived with Chrissy. 1803 was no time really to remember. In 1865, Colonel Woodhouse, of whom we heard this morning, with bandmaster James Smith produced a certain best cover, though possibly the worst music. Only after Fuller Maitland had published his transcription of the carol roll that was in the Library of Trinity College in Cambridge in 1891, with his frontispiece that fits in with it, did the idea of Adolfo reeling into repertoire, the best of the offerings of the 1890s appeared in 1897. Perhaps, as a jubilee tribute, Edward Rhyngold's Andrew Cotter, a balladw of Emond Rheddon from Barraic, Henry Seyre and Poros, with trumpets hewed into the piano accompaniment, a sitting in the famous ballad that begins to air so the wind of the frangos. It's a very well-wraught ten minutes, and we shall hear it just after a while. In 1913, Wraith or Wins wrote incidental music for Sir Frank Benson's Stratford season, which included Henry V performed by a Stratford grammospam bodies and some of their female relatives. It was a cost-cutting exercise, and the incomplete orchestral parts in the Shakespeare Memorial Library in Stratford revealed that the Attencock cow tune opens the air material, the first time the cow had been used in the composition. And it's saying that this particular Stratford folder has not previously been noticed by musicians, so this is actual news, the fact that Vaughan Williams was the first person to use the Attencock cow in a piece of music. Interestingly enough, the details of the words that he used show that he used the Bob Dylan line version, rather than the one that resigned from his own copy. In 1933, Vaughan had revisited that 1913 overture, and he recombaged it for Raspam, interpreting martial fanfares at a pastoral section based on French folk tune Magani, which appeared in several instrumental numbers in his incidental music for the play. Both versions of that adventure end with the early Oxford's march, but in the 1933 rewrite, Bormins introduces the old French marching song, Reve Be Gare, which didn't feature anywhere in the 1913 music. And I wonder whether it was his discovery of that melody that prompted his revision. The revision, oddly enough, was not performed until 1979. That becomes less surprising when we know that Bormins made a note on the manuscript that he wanted trumpets, not cornets, with their brass band, which is not a remark calculated to please brass bands. I've jumped back to 1919. The Royal College of Music was counting the cost of the Great War. The Royal College of Music's War Memorial is a very honoured thing, as you enter that mighty building. So Charles Stanford had seen many of his composition students enlist, and he wrote a substantial orchestral movement called A Summer of Etiquot in commemoration of those members of the college who fought, worked and died for their country. It was first performed at the college on the 25th of March 1919. Stanford, also a Trinity man, and Bormins' teacher at the RCM, had been interested in J.A. Fuller Maintenance transcriptions of ancient musical manuscripts when they were undergraded together. So you could see a little knot of musicians grouping round Fuller Maintenance, a Trinity in Cairing, which is a Fuller Maintenance from Stanford, and Stanford's group of Bormins and also a Trinity man. All were using the actual call to Canada. Like all British composers of his generation, most of them had studied at Leipzig. Stanford was soaked in the idioms and habits of German musical thought. During the Great War, most of the German music had been shunned by promoters and audiences. This was almost as disconcerting to professional musicians as of today any music with, say, an American source was banned in Britain. No more jazz, no more rock music. And one result was to leave a space which younger, consciously English composers could fill during the 1920s. In this context, Stanford's choice of the ethical melody for his group is significant. A melody that commemorates an English victory in France, certainly, but above all, a melody that can have no hint of German influence. And he tries hard to try and have another new directions as well. I've got a few excerpts of the piece to play for you. Here is the opening of Stanford's song of ethical, in which you're here for the famous tune. Next in half, Stanford harmonises those little modal twists. He's changed his harmony language slightly there. That was the, as far as we know, the second performance that replaced last chorus. And we played about the last orchestra conducted by Howard Shelly. And so, Stanford chose the emblem, as it were, of the ethical melody, precisely so that he didn't continue to write German music. The main twist is one way. There's a very interesting slow tune here in that pastoral, where he almost imitates a genre that his own pupils had invented on the way. I think they're very much English pastoral music. And another way that Stanford banded to avoid Germanic references was to write an Irish jewellty. It was derived from the ethical melody there in the South East. That actually is the capital point of the theme. So, in 1919, as Stanford produced his song of ethical, the League of the Arts, or National and Civic Society, published the Motherland song of ethical. A rather pointedly title song, I think. And it included Stanford's song, as there were no land in England. Hathriarchic stars from many of Stanford's pupils, including Geoffrey Shaw's arrangement of the Adygold song. Shaw provided a discount for the second verse. Those of you who were brought up on some sort of praise were meant to sort of a discount for Shaw. In 1935, the BBC commissioned Walter Lee's overture on Adygold. He said that he thought that it was something to do with me. And I have here, Walter Lee is not very well manned. You'll see why I'm manned, but he's a... No, that's not what I'm talking about. You'll regret that. I'll regret that. Here's a rather charming picture of Walter and the future, Mrs Lee, in 1933. And the overture is going to be performed, the only performance of this overture this year. An overture called Adygold. The only performance of it this year will be in Southampton on Saturday. More anon. Lee's mother was German, and Lee studied at Cambridge and in Berlin. And he introduces the Adygold character as a pastoral interview, moving through sorrow to a solemn sobriety, quite unlike his usual trial of the treatment. The overture remained unpublished at the time of his death from friendly fire at the Battle of Tobruk in North Africa in 1942, which is why we don't know very much about him. It was in 1944 that Walton composed the most enduring Adygold score for Lawrence and the Beistelmen depending on the fifth. Mike Kennedy, who knew better than those, was well told that Walton consulted all millions about the music. And so it's not surprising to find him incorporating the tune of Réveillil Pigard, how it is the tune of all millions he's gone, to a personified French and a fine battle fugato of the typical Victorian figure. Reviewing the music in the series Musical Matters in tempo, Hubert Clifford wrote, I had never previously been aware of the essential Englishness of Walton. But in Henry V, there was an authentic English musical voice, as English in its own way, as that of Elgar or Williams, which I find the most entreat. Harold Douglas' part song from 1947, We've Heard. It was part of the Mortimer series of modern part songs and the very next item in the series was Elizabeth of England by Hayden Wood. So the occasion of both compositions may have been our present Queen's Cabin of Age. I'd like to finish this part of this quick survey of Anticorps music, before we have more of my music, with a reference to my own lead of the Anticorps song, in my East turning box, which also will be performed in Southampton on Saturday, along with William Walton and Walter Lee. I'll show you our poster, you might recognise the album. Lloro, the art from the Rhinocore. Mike Lee, I use a disjointed version of the caramelpy to account for the mint of one of Alan Chathier's Cats for Darn. But the chief presentation in my piece of the Anticorps carol is a carol premude, a fughal piece with inversions and stettos to be taken apart, where it appears in a manner reminiscent, and I'm rather pleased with this, reminiscent of the armed men in Mateshine's Magic Food. Since the premiere is not until Saturday, I didn't play you a synthesised version of the section, and I will do that. You'll have to put up with the synthesised song. We come out of my own setting of first of the mint for France and into Henry's Entrance, which culminates in a quotation from Elgar's pasta, Henry's boiled theme, and then into the Rha premude, and you'll hear the carol in the men's voices being deep octaves, as in the Mateshine. And I'll just find it here. So this is an extract from my piece of turning points, and it's the Anticorps carol in Anticorps. I'm no mere description of Henry. He was in his youth a diligent follower of idle practises. He said that I'm not in cello voices, and I'm saying to Professor Currie for her help. He's seeking funding on how to sang from the Anticorps in memory from the Anticorps 600, and it will be repeated in St Paul's Church, on the paper first, along with my family and church. You're all very welcome. So to sum up, before we have more live music, Anticorps owes its unique place of music to the strength of its carol to, whose stringless phrases fall, only to leap up again. The melody is so near in time to the battle, that it felt to grow up to the actual experience of life it worked. No other battle has spawned a comfortable tune that multiple pioneers of modern-age song-back-on-gail ruled out any rivalry from mal-placade. The nearest carol is the 1683 Siege of Vienna, which introduced Turkish music, based on client and symbols, into being these classical music, a process that reaches out to you in Beethoven's Ninth Symphony. But that's a texture, not a tune, it's not just a song-back-on-gail to be rather than a war or pity or even a triumph of a war. Once Eric Coates is out of copper 1927, we may see something done with the Devastus, but until then the fortuitous relevance of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony's Leitha Victory involves Coates as a symbol of the Second World War merely emphasises that. The ancient tune is musically most fruitful when it embodies some aspect of the idea of Anticorps. In Stanford and Walton, we see it as a keen to national identity. In Leith's regretful pastoral, we may see a conscious internationalism. These ideas remain a contentious issue for the lobe, and having got powerful musical code that may have played out yet in both the articulation of aspiration and the warnings of the wise to the future, which reminds me that the most important line of libretto is taken from the Mark Wilson days, which is, the animals of France should have served as lesson to the role of France in all of this. Now, we're going to be joined by the carous singers again and their director, George Paris, and we're going to conclude this session with Edward Reynolds' massacre. It's impossible to tell, of course, how much the two pieces that you've heard this afternoon have been performed since they were written, but I should imagine very, very little.