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Award-winning British composer Thomas Hewitt Jones releases a new version of the much-loved hymn Abide With Me on the 80th anniversary of D-Day, the invasion of Normandy by Allied forces which marked a crucial turning point in the Second World War.

American troops arriving in Normandy on D-Day (National Geographic)

Originally written in 1847 by Scottish Anglican cleric Henry Francis Lyte, with words based on Luke 24: 13–35, ‘Abide with Me’ is a prayer for God to stay (“abide”) with the speaker through the trials and tribulations of life and death. Traditionally sung at remembrance events and services, and at funerals, it offers comfort to the bereaved and hope for the coming weeks. The hymn speaks to the universal human condition, and it is that feeling of hope and assurance which makes this hymn so special. It is most often sung to the tune “Eventide” by the English organist William Henry Monk.

Abide with me; fast falls the eventide;
The darkness deepens; Lord with me abide.
When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, O abide with me.

This new version by Thomas Hewitt Jones is performed by the Scottish Session Orchestra, conducted by Adam Robinson, recorded remotely in Glasgow – with Thomas on solo cello and pipe organ from his home studio.

Composer Thomas Hewitt Jones says, “‘Abide with Me’ is such a well-loved tune which typically has resonances with wartime and remembrance. However, as my friend Gordon Giles, Canon at Rochester Cathedral, reminded me, the words also allude to the resurrection. As such, I think it can be seen as a song of great comfort in trying times. I have given it the unashamedly rich string treatment here, with nods to Vaughan Williams but also a couple of subtle harmonic twists. I have also showcased the Lammermuir pipe organ, which is in my studio, and it is wonderful to have the excuse to get the cello out again! I hope you enjoy this new take on the beloved melody.”

‘Abide with Me’ – arranged by Thomas Hewitt Jones (solo cello & organ), with the Scottish Session Orchestra conducted by Adam Robinson.

Full text of ‘Abide with Me’ here

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“Bach’s Goldberg Variations caused me misery – but I still can’t get enough”

– Jeremy Denk, pianist

Our relationship with our repertoire is personal and often long-standing. Connections with certain pieces and composers may be forged in our early days of learning our instrument, which remain with us throughout our musical lives. Many of us can clearly remember some of the earliest pieces we learnt as children, and returning to repertoire learnt in childhood and during student years can bring an interesting, and sometimes uncomfortable rush of memories. Opening the score of the first book of Bach’s Well-Tempered Clavier, I saw my teacher’s markings, her explanation of the structure of a fugue, and for a moment I was transported back nearly 40 years to her living room and the big black Steinway grand piano on which she taught me.

Sometimes these repertoire relationships forged during early study can be detrimental to our learning as mature players. Bad habits from childhood and student days are deeply ingrained, and all too easily recalled, and thus very hard to shift later on. This is interesting in itself as it demonstrates how carefully (or not) one has learnt the music previously, and sometimes the only way to step aside from these habits is to buy a new score and start the music afresh, as if learning it for the very first time.

Jeremy Denk’s comment on the Goldberg Variations is interesting and will resonate with many musicians, I’m sure. We all have pieces which have a particular hold over us, which fascinate and compel us to revisit them over and over again. Yet their technical and musical complexities make the learning and practicing process difficult and sometimes less than rewarding. Some repertoire, however beautiful, satisfying or intriguing, is simply a slog, and the more progress one makes, the more “just out of reach” it seems.

Other works, in comparison, feel relatively easy, the music flows in practice and performance, gives satisfaction to player and audience, and enters into one’s personal catalogue of “favourites”.

However, “easy” can be a myth, because everything, even the simplest little prelude by Bach, can be taken up a level each time we revisit the music. This setting aside of and returning to repertoire also affects our relationship with it, and we may observe how that relationship changes over time and with the benefit of artistic maturity. I have gone back to previously-learnt works and wondered what I found so difficult before. The passing of years, and accumulated experience and wisdom make the process of reviving repertoire stimulating and enjoyable. We are reminded of what attracted us to the music in the first place, while also continually finding new aspects to it. This curiosity also helps to keep alive our relationship with the repertoire.

Then there are pieces which we may never play, but, rather like the books you haven’t read, and may never read, remain special. Just knowing the score is there, on the bookshelf, can foster a particular relationship with that music (I often buy scores of music I know I will never play simply for the pleasure of reading the music or admiring the organisation of it on the page), and maybe one day you will open it, set it on the music stand, and start the process of learning it….

 

 

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Guest post by Doug Thomas

“Music washes away from the soul the dust of everyday life.” 

​This is what the German poet Berthold Auerbach might have answered had he been asked what the role of music was for him. To me, it seems plausible that music carries a significant meaning in most people’s life. Whether it is for a simple amateur, a true mélomane or a professional musician, it seems to always have a particular role, guiding people in their own existence.

In my experience, music has taken several aspects but three important ones prevail. Music has been part of my daily life for many years and wherever I go, whatever I do, it embellishes my world. It is also a great catharsis, and it is what allows me to compose and create on a regular basis. Most importantly, music is a source of intense pleasure which very few other forms of art have been able to provide me with.

Whenever I get tired of listening to silence, music comes to the rescue. I often see music in a similar way to the French composer Erik Satie – as furniture music. Music that is meant to decorate the environment or have a functional purpose. It is not necessarily music I pay much attention to. There are many situations were music sits in the background; at home on a lazy afternoon, during a dinner with friends or on a simple train journey.

I compose music for a living. In addition to fulfilling my need to create things, composing music acts as a sort of catharsis. It is a way to externalise my deepest feelings and emotions. Although I consider my music as somehow intellectual, the creative process often starts with a feeling. Whether it is the expression of happiness or deep sadness, or the simple appreciation of beauty. There is a splendid satisfaction once a piece of music is composed, a feeling of lightening, a burden which seems to go away.

Above all, I believe that music represents a fantastic source of pleasure. There are not many feelings comparable to the one I get when I hear a new piece of music that suits my tastes. Or the sensation I have when I hear one of my favourite piece performed live. Besides, there has been many scientific studies that have shown how music triggers emotional sensations in the brain.

​On a daily basis, music decorates the important moments of my life as well as the most meaningless ones. When I create, music acts as a deliverer of pulses and inspirations. More significantly, when music is at its best, it is a source of intense pleasure which makes the hair on the arms stand up, and gives the sensation that time has stopped for just a few moments.

The British composer Max Richter once said that making art was a way to deal with the problem of being alive. If we perceive the arts as being a toolbox to dealing with life, then in my opinion music is perhaps the ultimate Swiss Army Knife.

Doug Thomas is a French composer and artist based in London.
 
Since founding NOOX in 2014, Doug has released numerous solo projects, including Short Stories, Vol. 1&2, Angles and Cassiopeia. His interest in multi-media collaboration has also led to engagements with choreographers, photographers and visual artists from around the world, including London, New York and Reykjavík.

Doug has studied at the Institute of Contemporary Music Performance in London, as well as with Berklee Online College of Music. Some of his mentors include Jérôme Bechet, Dylan Kay, Audrey Riley, Maurizio Malagnini, Enrica Sciandrone and Stefania Passamonte.

“Music allows me to express ideas and feelings in a unique way. Each piece I compose is an attempt in finding balance between interest and beauty, within the limits of my own language and experience. I like the idea that music can provide us with an alternative to our daily life, whether it completes it, or helps us take some distance from it.”

Doug Thomas appears in a future Meet the Artist interview at www.meettheartist.site