Creativity is often a solitary process. I have heard plenty of “going into the cave” metaphors to describe the isolation, intense hermetic focus, and flow state required by artists to practice their craft, whether it’s poetry, composition, acting, painting, whatever.

Therefore, it can be a scary thing to collaborate, to invite another active, creative mind into that inner sanctum of vulnerability, trial and error, and intimacy that is the creative process. But I am here to advocate that artists do just that, and to argue that art created collaboratively is potentially better than art created in isolation. Think of the great lyricist and composer partnerships: Mozart & DaPonte, Gilbert & Sullivan, the Gershwin Brothers, Rodgers & Hammerstein, Sondheim &… Sondheim. While each of these masters created great works in isolation, their greatest works were crafted in collaboration.

A choral work is by its very nature a marriage of poetry and music. It is the performance of poetry that makes the chorus unique among ensembles. Put quite simply, choirs do not perform music. They perform poetry; for without the primacy of text, why did the composer not simply choose to write for string orchestra? So, the creation of choral music by definition consists of interaction between a composer and a poet.

These interactions tend to fall into two rough categories: one collaborative, the other not. By far the largest type of interaction between poets and composers is the “Creator in a Bubble” model, in which there is no collaboration between poet and composer, each in isolation. This isolation is most often temporal, as composers are drawn for many reasons to poetry in the Public Domain. In this system there is no possibility of dialogue between the poet and composer, no collaboration. Emily Dickinson cannot return an email. Anonymous is difficult to track down to clarify a metaphor.

In this scenario, effective choral works arise when composers take the time to understand deeply the texts they are setting. There exists much commentary and scholarship about methods of effective text setting. If I could presume to speak for Dickinson or Shakespeare,
or any of the other distinguished members of the International Fellowship of Poets in the Public Domain, it is ideal that the composer loves the poem — reveres it, finds music flowing from it — and feels compelled to create a deeply personal setting to add their voice to the poem’s ongoing story of interpretation. I would guess that this category of creative isolation accounts for some 90% of all choral works.

In the 10% that remains are choral works created out of a collaboration between a living poet and living composer working in real time with one another. This is where the magic happens! Even if the composer encounters a poem already in its published form, there can still be opportunity for conversation, questions, interpretive guidance, even the possibility of revision
or the creation of an alternative version of the poem for a choral work. This category of conversational collaboration gives the composer a greater opportunity to understand the poet’s intent and therefore create a setting that more closely aligns.

In the smallest subset of choral works, the composer gets to work with another creator and a brand-new poem, to make something that couldn’t otherwise exist; not a new hiker having their own adventure on a well-worn trail, but an explorer who is the first to set foot on a new world.

Many composers are people of faith, and many choral works are sacred in subject matter. If a composer wants to write a piece in honor of the Virgin Mary, they can write the 1,499,345th setting of the “Ave Maria,” or they can work with a mystic poet to bring to life an entirely new work of devotion.

Another example of the value of collaboration is when the composer wants to create a work so fresh, so unique, that there simply is no existing poetry that will do. My collaborations with Graphite composer Timothy C. Takach are effective examples of this type of unicorn project. Our piece “Flying Solo” is Chewbacca’s lament upon the death of Han Solo, certainly not something one could find in the archives of the Public Domain! A new poem paired with new music is so powerful simply because of the uncharted territory the collaboration covers.

While every creative relationship is unique, after more than twenty years as a poet my collaborations with composers have been among the most rewarding creative experiences I have had. From the poet’s perspective there is a fascinating sublimation of ego required, and a risk that the composer’s illustration and embellishment of the poem won’t match the way the poet heard it for themself.

In order to mitigate this, my process begins with a deep conversation with the composer, outlining the parameters of the project, like duration, theme, voicing, etc. I then ask them to describe the emotional journey they envision the audience experiencing during the piece. I take extensive notes during these interviews, as often the composers’ own descriptions will contain the DNA of the poem, and even some of its signature imagery. And then I get to work on my craft. The Lyric Poet must take into consideration not only the macro issues of structure and story arc, but also the micro issues of singable cadence, vowel placement, ending consonants, etc. Collaborating with a living poet provides the composer with a text tailor-made for singing, created by an artist who takes their craft as seriously as the composer takes theirs.

The first thrill is waiting for the composer’s initial response to the poem draft. Will they like it? Does it speak to the required theme effectively? Why haven’t they responded yet?! The second is the delicious anticipation waiting for the finished composition to be delivered. When the score finally arrives, with its clunky MIDI audio mock-up, I listen and sing through the work to determine how it feels. Most often the composer and I are in perfect harmony, and the finished choral work has that seamless, organic quality in which text and music flow into and from each other and seem perfectly married. They were intended to be, and came
into being together.

I am proud that my works with Graphite’s composers all fall into this sort of organic collaborative relationship. It is a very lucky poet indeed who can have their work enjoyed along with custom-made soundtracks created by talented composers! As directors search for pieces to program for their concerts, I encourage them to consider the fact that they are sharing with their audiences and singers not only great music, but great poetry as well.

Works featuring Poetry from Charles Anthony Silvestri

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