Thoughts on Sing a Song of Sixpence: Songs for Children Big and Small Alice! A childish story take, And, with a gentle hand, Lay it where Childhood’s dreams are twined In Memory’s mystic band, Like pilgrim’s wither’d wreath of flowers Pluck’d in a far-off land. Lewis Carroll Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, introductory poem, last stanza. When I was a girl I did NOT want to grow up. I loved the innocence, the fun, the carefree playful days of childhood. The grownup world was scary, and somehow I must have sensed that adulthood might not be anywhere near as jolly. I did grow up, of course, and in the process discovered that being a grownup was a lot more diverting than I had imagined. But I still love my memories of childhood, that dream world wreathed in a faint fragrance of nostalgia like a bouquet of faded flowers. And I often go on pilgrimage to that far-off land through classic children’s stories, poems and songs. There is something about the timelessness of great children’s literature that allows us to escape for a little while into wonder and delight and play, to become children again. Play is certainly the operative word for our Sing a Song of Sixpence concert. It is the charming undercurrent to an evening that weaves silly songs, slyly humorous poetry, and nonsensical rhymes together with surprisingly sophisticated settings of childhood lyrics. Like all good shows it begins with a theme song, from The Bugs Bunny Show, a loony tune that is likely to stir up reminiscent chuckles in baby-boomers. Then it archly balances youth and old age against one another in There Was an Old Woman, This Old Man, and Fair Warning, a declaration of independence from a woman who will be child-like in her old age. Counting numbers leads naturally to contemplating an infinity of stars, and the wondrous magic of the night is recalled in Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star and When You Wish Upon a Star, another song that is likely to bring sighs of remembrance to the middle-aged among us. But not for long as it leaps into Lewis Carroll’s madly ridiculous Twinkle, Twinkle Little Bat (Bat was the nickname of his friend, Bartholomew Price). It then careens into a revelry of rhythm and fun with the calypso absurdities of Under the Sea, the toe-tapping energy of Hoedown, the down-home preposterousness of Frog Went a-Courtin’ and Hey Diddle Diddle, and a madcap setting of 6Pence by Jackson Berkey of Mannheim Steamroller fame. Children and animals go together like mothers and apple pie, and our second half begins with a salute to this age-old partnering. First is an amusing lesson in animal counterpoint from the pen of the sixteenth century Italian composer, Adriano Banchieri. Then Quincy Porter’s clever and challenging Barnyard Cogitations, set to Ogden Nash’s droll meditations, mixes delightfully with the humorous insights of Shel Silverstein and Judith Viorst. What journey into childhood would be complete without a trip to the zoo, and Tom Paxton’s We’re Goin’ to the Zoo provides the perfect vehicle for young and old alike. But a day of play is tiring, and the sleepy among us are rocked as if in sheltering arms into sweet dreams of love with Wynken, Blynken and Nod, the exotic Lullaby from the 1942 movie The Jungle Book, and John Rutter’s lovely Monday’s Child. One last rousing setting of Sing a Song of Sixpence, though, stirs us from our dreams and sends us off into the night, only to leave a faint fragrance behind, a whiff from that far off land of childhood as seen through rhythm, melody, rhyme, and nonsense.

For a brief time tonight our reveries of childhood intersect with the reality as seen in the faces of the children around us. So indulge your inner child! And enter into innocence once more with the children around you as together we enjoy the delights of music and play. After all, we grownups need to play, too.