Hey folks.
At the beginning of this year I determined to embark on a project which has been close to my heart for some time now.
This was to get my lovely wife back into singing after far too many years away from it. You may recall that I did manage to persuade her, a couple of times, into songs a few years back. One of the biggest problems that I have had has been finding 'the right songs' for her. She claims that (quite rightly) I tend to compose to suit my own style and limitations. In other words there is no way that I can write a song to suit her individual voice and style.
So ...
having recently found a lyrics writer, who claims to be able to write any song in any style to any brief, and a recently retired opera singer who wants to make his mark as a musical composer but is naturally drawn towards the world of folk music ...
I realised that this could be the combination I was waiting for.
I contacted them both and gave an invitation, and an outline of what was needed, to participate in this project.
To that end Kevin Skiles composed a melody with guitar accompaniment which I presented to my good lady for her approval. Once that was accepted, as a possibility, I sent this with a request for an adaptation of a favourite poem (by John Keats) to Joel Sattler who duly came up with the goods.
Sorry for the long story but it is quite crucial in explanation of this (in my world) mile-stone event.
We managed to produce a very stripped down acoustic rendition of this song.
Isabella.
Based on the poem of Isabella, or The Pot of Basil. An epic poem but also is represented by one of our favourite paintings (which we often visit in out local gallery).
Myself on solo acoustic guitar and my LadyD with her beautiful voice. Nothing else, other than production.
Fair Isabella loved a lad wrong for her
Her brothers' vassal, a common labourer
Lorenzo had a love so pure
Such burning heat could scarce endure
Each day their love it grew more sure
A malady with no cure
The brothers thought he's nothing more than a slave
Barely deserving of the place that they gave
They conspired, they would take his life
She would never be his wife
They led him to the wood and laid him down
Told Isabella he could not be found
Taken a ship for foreign lands
To wander alone on distant sands
Thinking they were free, ‘twas not to be
They had joined the damned
The brothers thought he's nothing more than a slave
Barely deserving of the place that they gave
They conspired, then they took his life
She would never be his wife
Lorenzo came to Isabella in a dream
Said in the forest I am buried by a stream
Said come and find me where I'm dead
Don't be afraid that's what he said
She found the body and there she took his head
Placed it in a pot instead
The brothers thought he's nothing more than a slave
Barely deserving of the place that they gave
They conspired, and then took his life
She would never be his wife
She filled the pot with basil at the top
Watered it with tears, would leave it not
The brothers watched her as she pined
Stole the vase only to find
The sight within, it horrified
Triumph within them, it died.
The brothers thought he's nothing more than a slave
Barely deserving of the place that they gave
They conspired, and then took his life
She would never be his wife
Grieving Isabella, sad on vast estate
No love, no family, all to do was wait
Wait for the hour of her death
The last long drawing of her breath
The moment that her life at last would end
To be with her Lorenzo once again....
They conspired, but they took her life
She will never be his wife.The journey should continue as I am already starting work on the follow up.
James
