SSA, Piano (3:05)
Composer’s Note
Edna St. Vincent Millay’s Afternoon on a Hill is a poem about the quiet gift of paying attention. From a still vantage point, the speaker looks out over fields, trees, and sky—not to analyze or explain them, but simply to be present with them. The language is plain and unadorned, yet deeply expressive, capturing a moment when the world feels complete just as it is. There is no story to resolve here, only the contentment of standing still long enough to notice beauty. This setting approaches the text with the same sense of openness and exuberance. The musical lines are shaped to feel spacious and unforced, allowing the choir’s sound to breathe with the landscape Millay describes. Rather than turning the poem into drama, the music rejoices in each reflective moment—inviting singers and listeners alike to share in the poem’s openhearted celebration of the world and our place within it. The piece was supported by a grant from the Nebraska Arts Council and premiered by the Sing Omaha Girls Choir on a concert entitled Choral Canvases, which featured music inspired by or otherwise connected to visual art. A painter was commissioned to create new artwork based on the text, and both the painting and this piece debuted at the same performance.
Rehearsal Notes
The piece is bookended by an almost childlike joy (Letters A–C and F–end) and should be approached with as much enthusiasm as possible while maintaining a beautiful choral sound. Letters C–E are more contemplative (as indicated by the dynamics and overall musical “flow”) and should elicit a feeling of peacefulness and contentment before a return to the declamatory self-affirmation, “I will be glad!” The word “gladdest” should always end in a schwa (not an “eh”) to preserve syllabic stress and a beautiful tone.
Text
I will be the gladdest thing Under the sun!
I will touch a hundred flowers And not pick one.
I will look at cliffs and clouds With quiet eyes,
atch the wind bow down the grass, And the grass rise.
And when lights begin to show Up from the town,
I will mark which must be mine, And then start down!
—Edna St. Vincent Millay