Tag Archives: christine miller

For Bloomsday

It’s June 16th, the day when literary appreciators all over the world remember the work of James Joyce. Today is Bloomsday, named for Leopold Bloom, protagonist of Ulysses. The events in the novel unfold on June 16th 1904, Joyce having apparently picked that day as it was when he had his first outing with Nora Barnacle, a walk in Ringsend.

A hundred years ago today, on June 16th 1914, four years before the initial publication of Ulysses in serialised form, Christine Miller recorded a song called ‘Oft In The Stilly Night’ in Camden, New Jersey. The words were written by Thomas Moore (who died in 1852). Joyce himself was familiar with this song, referencing it in Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man as a song sung by Stephen’s family on the eve of his departure. The lyrics evoke old memories and departed friends, and deeply affected Stephen as he prepared to emigrate in order to fulfil his artistic ambitions. Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man wasn’t published until 1916, so Joyce could well have heard Christine Miller’s 1914 version of the song before he wrote that passage. His love of music was well-known and Joyce was by all accounts a very good tenor singer. He won a bronze medal in Ireland’s Feis Ceoil on May 16th, 1904, exactly one month before his first date with Nora. Joyce was encouraged to enter the competition by his friend, and winner of the previous year’s Feis Ceoil, John McCormack. Joyce and McCormack even used to practise singing together. There’s a good chance they sang Oft in the Stilly Night together in 1904.

John McCormack was Ireland’s most famous singer in the first half of the twentieth century. In 1903 he won Ireland’s Feis Ceoil. By 1914 he had toured much of Europe and America, made many records and was an international singing star. Here’s a recording of John McCormack in 1914 singing ‘A Little Love, A Little Kiss’.

John McCormack, 1914

McCormack recorded a version of ‘Oft In The Stilly Night’ in 1907. I haven’t found a version of this recording to share with you, but he recorded it again in 1940. As a much older man, perhaps he understood the wistful lyrics a little better. When he recorded this in 1940, he wasn’t to know that his friend James Joyce would be dead within a year. Perhaps Joyce heard it before he died, it is noted in his biographies that he paid careful attention to the career of his old friend and singing companion.

The final version of the song I wish to share is my own. I found it to be a very touching song, universal and timeless in its appeal. Wistful and nostalgic as it is, there’s something very sweet about the lyrics. They’re as relevant today as when Thomas Moore wrote them over 160 years ago. I arranged it quite simply, voice and finger-picked guitar for the first half with bass, kick-drum, electric guitar and a vocal harmony joining in for the second half, a piano chiming in near the end. For the artwork, I’ve composited a photo of Joyce and McCormack together, as it was these two men who inspired my Bloomsday cover of the song, and of course, Christine Miller who sang this song a hundred years ago today. On that day she also recorded ‘The Slumber Boat‘, which I also covered. With all these coincidences arising from this day and this song, I wish you all a Happy Bloomsday.

The Slumber Boat

Baby’s boat the silver moon
sailing in the sky
sailing o’er the sea of sleep
while the clouds float by.

Sail, baby, sail
out upon that sea.
Only don’t forget to sail
back again to me.

Baby’s fishing for a dream,
fishing near and far.
His line a silver moonbeam is,
his bait a silver star.

Sail, baby, sail
out upon that sea.
Only don’t forget to sail
back again to me,
back again to me.

I became taken with this song and decided to learn it for myself. You don’t hear many lullabies these days. Such simple innocent timeless imagery is conjured, the moon, the sky, the clouds, the sea. Baby’s boat the silver moon… the lyrics were written by children’s poet and lyricist Alice C.D. Riley sometime around 1898. The music was written by Jessie L. Gaynor. I found a version of this song performed in 1914 by famous Mezzo-Soprano Christine Miller which was released on Victor Records. You can listen to it on National Jukebox, I urge you to check it out (unfortunately it’s unembeddible in WordPress).

There are a couple of modern versions of this song as well. There’s one from the mid-sixties by Mrs Miller, a fascinating figure (and no relation to Christine Miller). Mrs (Elva) Miller gained some notoriety self-releasing albums of shrill, off-key renditions of popular songs. According to Wikipedia, “Miller was apparently unaware at first that her musical ability was being ridiculed, but eventually realised it and decided to go along with the joke.” This clip on YouTube features a comedic introduction by someone claiming to be her husband and calling her Mrs Festoon.

I really enjoyed the process of recording this song. Though the piano leads the arrangement, I gave the bass and drums some real power. It seems counterintuitive for a lullaby, but I liked the effect. Cork songwriter Lynda Cullen lends her vocal talents, and Paul Moore (Polo Moro) improvised some lovely fiddle parts, I’m so pleased with the final version that’s going to be on the album. The simple imagery of the lyrics lends itself to a very literal visual interpretation, so I made an animated video to accompany the song. I couldn’t tell if the vintage sleeping baby illustrations I used were girls or boys. So I changed the lyrics to make it a lullaby sung to a girl, where originally it was a boy. Because why not?

Show this to your little ones at sleepytime. Okay, goodnight.