Sung poetry is a broad and imprecise music genre widespread in European countries, such as Poland and the Baltic States, to describe songs consisting of a poem (most often a ballad) and music written specially for that text. The compositions usually feature a delicate melody and scarce musical background, often comprising a guitar or piano. Some sung poetry performers are singer-songwriters, others use known, published poems, or collaborate with contemporary writers. Artists of sung poetry include people of various occupations usually with little or no particular music education, as well as stage actors.
Sung poetry shares much in common with the author's song in Russia yet differs from it in a significant way: sung poetry performers often do not compose lyrics themselves. Similar artists in other countries are usually classified as bards, folk music or folk rock (such as Jacques Brel, Lluís Llach, Ovidi Montllor, Georges Brassens, Léo Ferré, Bob Dylan, Simon and Garfunkel, Tom Waits, Leonard Cohen, Djordje Balasevic, Bulat Okudzhava, Vladimir Vysotsky, Paco Ibáñez), or chamber pop. Artists of other musical genres may or may not be included into sung poetry category, such as Czesław Niemen, whose many songs are based on works of esteemed Polish poets, is usually regarded as either a rock or electronic musician. The common forms of expression are individual and collective public performances, festivals of sung poetry, publication of records online and release of music albums.
Read more about Sung Poetry: See Also
Famous quotes containing the words sung and/or poetry:
“There lies intact that chalice of ours,
And its presence adds to the rhyme of love
Persistently sung by the fall above.
No lip has touched it since his and mine
In turns therefrom sipped lovers wine.”
—Thomas Hardy (18401928)
“Do you know how poetry started? I always think that it started when a cave boy came running back to the cave, through the tall grass, shouting as he ran, Wolf, wolf, and there was no wolf. His baboon-like parents, great sticklers for the truth, gave him a hiding, no doubt, but poetry had been bornthe tall story had been born in the tall grass.”
—Vladimir Nabokov (18991977)