Thursday, February 16, 2017

The Tragic Tale of George Butterworth

My community orchestra has a fun concert coming up. Our concerts are always fun, of course, but I especially love the theme for this one: British composers. We've enjoyed rehearsing a wide range of tunes, from Ralph Vaughan Williams' English Folk Song Suite to Elgar's first Pomp and Circumstance march and Gilbert and Sullivan's overture to H.M.S. Pinafore. We even got someone to play bagpipes.

We're moving up in the world.
Image credit: Zazzle

My favorite piece for this concert, though, is George Butterworth's Banks of Green Willow. I love that song for a few reasons. It's fun to play. It carries the beautiful combination of hope and melancholy characteristic of so many folk songs of the British Isles. And then there's the story of the composer, George Butterworth himself, that gives the music extra meaning. Have a listen while I share that story with you*:


George Butterworth was meant to be a musician from the very beginning. He started composing as a child and played the chapel organ for services at his prep school. In college, he served as President of the Oxford University Music Club and formed a close friendship with fellow composer Ralph Vaughan Williams, who traveled the English countryside with him to collect the folk songs that so heavily influenced both of their work.

In fact, we might not have Vaughan Williams' London Symphony as we know it today if not for George Butterworth. Vaughan Williams recalled:

We were talking together one day when he [Butterworth] said in his gruff, abrupt manner: ‘You know, you ought to write a symphony.’ I answered . . . that I’d never written a symphony and never intended to. . . . I suppose Butterworth’s words stung me and, anyhow, I looked out some sketches I had made for . . . a symphonic poem about London and decided to throw it into symphonic form. . . . From that moment, the idea of a symphony dominated my mind. I showed the sketches to George bit by bit as they were finished, and it was then that I realised that he possessed in common with very few composers a wonderful power of criticism of other men’s work and insight into their ideas and motives. I can never feel too grateful to him for all he did for me over this work and his help did not stop short at criticism.

Ralph Vaughan Williams, 1913
Image credit: Wikipedia

The Banks of Green Willow premiered the same year as Vaughan Williams' London Symphony, on February 27, 1914. Butterworth's piece was performed again three weeks later in London.

That concert was most likely the last time Butterworth ever heard his own music.

The promising young composer joined the British Army at the outbreak of World War I later that summer. He proved himself as well on the battlefield as he had on the concert stage, and a series of promotions (plus rotten luck, in my opinion) eventually led him to the Battle of the Somme.

If you're unfamiliar with what went on during World War I, let me take five seconds to fill you in on the Battle of the Somme: It was not a good place to be. The battle lasted four-and-a-half months and 1,054,000 people were killed or wounded--minimum. But not only is the Somme famous for having been one of the bloodiest battles in all of human history, it was also the first time anyone used tanks in war. I can only imagine the terror those gigantic machines inspired in the hearts of men who had never seen anything like them before.

German officer Friedrich Steinbrecher put it best when he said, "Somme. The whole history of the world cannot contain a more ghastly word."

Machine gunners at the Battle of the Somme
Image credit: BBC News

George Butterworth--the talented mind behind The Banks of Green Willow--fought at the Somme.

I want that to sink in.

Do you know why I hate war so much? Why I can't fathom the ugliness the human race is capable of? I can sum it up in just two words: George Butterworth.

Early in the morning of August 5, 1916, Temporary Lieutenant George Butterworth, 31 years old, took a sniper's bullet to the head. Far from home, far from the idyllic music he composed, he met a sudden, bloody end.

Butterworth's men hastily buried him in the side of the trench where they fought. His body was never recovered, and his beautiful Banks of Green Willow has come to be seen by many as an anthem for all Unknown Soldiers.

George Butterworth, 1914
Image credit: Wikipedia

Why do I mourn for a soldier I never knew? Why does my heart break for a man who died a hundred years ago?

George Butterworth had talent. He had potential. He helped his friends. By all accounts, he was an honorable, hard working man. And he left some truly breathtaking music behind him.

He could have been as great as Ralph Vaughan Williams. Maybe even greater.

He just didn't have enough time--but he didn't waste it, either.

None of us know when our number will be called to leave this world. I could live to be a hundred. I could die tomorrow.

All I know is that whatever time I have, it's up to me to decide how to use it. And I don't want that dash on my gravestone to represent a high score or a browser history. I want it to represent my family. My friends. My concerts and service and jokes and love.

My writing.

I wish George Butterworth had been given more time . . . but I'm glad he used the time he had the way he did.

I only hope the same could be said of me.



*All research was done on Wikipedia here, here, here, and here.

**If you're in the Salt Lake City area and want to hear The Banks of Green Willow live, come see the Taylorsville Symphony at Bennion Jr. High School, 7:30 PM on March 10. It's free!

***Edit: The Banks of Green Willow has been pushed to our May concert, but come see us in March anyway!

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