Benedict Sheehan A Christmas Carol
for narrator, SATB soloists, and SATB choir unaccompanied, with optional bones In this compelling work for narrator, soloists, and choir, Sheehan presents an engaging musical dramatization of Charles Dickens's A Christmas Carol. Dickens's text has been artfully abridged by Matthew Guard to facilitate concert performance, and the narration is seamlessly woven into Sheehan's richly diverse score. Suited to performance in a variety of settings, this work sees imaginative arrangements of traditional carols and vibrant and accessible original music combine to bring a familiar festive tale to life.
for narrator, SATB soloists, and SATB choir unaccompanied, with optional bones
In this compelling work for narrator, soloists, and choir, Sheehan presents an engaging musical dramatization of Charles Dickens's A Christmas Carol. Dickens's text has been artfully abridged by Matthew Guard to facilitate concert performance, and the narration is seamlessly woven into Sheehan's richly diverse score. Suited to performance in a variety of settings, this work sees imaginative arrangements of traditional carols and vibrant and accessible original music combine to bring a familiar festive tale to life.
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“I am in the presence of the Ghost of <strong>Christmas</strong> Yet To Come?” said Scrooge. The Spirit answered not, but pointed onward with its hand. Scrooge<br />
feared the silent shape so much that his legs trembled beneath him.<br />
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“Ghost of the Future! I fear you more than any spectre I have seen. But as I know your purpose is to do me good, I am prepared to bear your<br />
company, and do it with a thankful heart. Will you not speak to me?” It gave him no reply. The hand was pointed straight before them.<br />
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The city seemed to spring up about them; there they were, in the heart of it. The Spirit stopped beside one little knot of business men. Observing that the<br />
hand was pointed to them, Scrooge advanced to listen to their talk.<br />
“No, I don’t know much about it, either way. I only know he’s dead,” said one of the men. “When did he die?” inquired another. “Last night, I believe.”<br />
“Why, what was the matter with him?” asked a third, taking a vast quantity of snuff out of a very large snuff-box. “I thought he’d never die.” This<br />
pleasantry was received with a general laugh. “It’s likely to be a very cheap funeral, for upon my life I don’t know of anybody to go to it.”<br />
Another laugh.<br />
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