From the Biblical psalms and the poetry of Rabbie Burns to Kate Bush’s dramatic Wuthering Heights, musicians have long found inspiration in the written word.
“You can’t judge a book by its cover, but you can judge it by the song on its last page,” enthuses Armagh-born musician and composer Gareth Williams, who when lockdown hit, turned to his bookshelves for inspiration
In his Songs from the Last Page project, he takes the last lines of a beloved book and transforms them into brand-new “literary chamber pop songs”.
“I’m used to getting lots of scripts from writers I work with and obviously during the pandemic everything was cancelled. I didn’t have any words to respond to, so I just took them off my shelves. I started by looking at some famous books - The Great Gatsby and Great Expectations – as an experiment, and found it so therapeutic,” explains the 47-year-old.
“I promised myself that when restrictions were lifted I would get out and play songs myself, so that led me to looking at Scottish books and touring Scottish book festivals,” says Williams, a music graduate from Queen’s University in Belfast, who has been working in Scotland for over two decades.
With the accompaniment of violin and cello, and with himself on piano and vocals, Gareth has toured various book festivals across Scotland and delivered a magical musical performance at the Edinburgh Fringe 2023.
His album, Songs from the Last Page, was released last year, featuring 11 songs, from books as diverse as JM Barrie’s Peter Pan and Robert Louis Stevenson’s Treasure Island to more contemporary young adult novels, including Duck Feet by Eli Percy and Sonny and Me by Ross Sayers.
“When I started out looking at the classics, it was very male dominated with the likes of Dickens. To get a mixture and a representation, it had to become much more contemporary, and that opened it up a lot more.”
Having explored Scottish writers, Williams’s constantly evolving song cycle is now turning its attention to the vast catalogue of Irish literature, beginning with a performance in his home town of Armagh, at the John Hewitt International Summer School.
“I’ve been looking at the heavyweight literature and will be doing the song from the last page of James Joyce’s Ulysses. But it’s also nice to find new writers and I have prepared the last page of Before My Actual Heart Breaks by Tyrone writer Tish Delaney, which is a beautiful book.
“I’m still workshopping a few things. There’s a short story I always loved called The Pilgrims by Benedict Kiely, so I’m trying desperately to finish that one on time,” he adds.
I ask Williams if he feels like a film composer writing a soundtrack for the books.
“I do feel you’re trying to create a wee sound world. Certainly with a book like Treasure Island, you want to bring that menace and shanty feel to life.
“But what you’re trying to do is hold onto that world captured in writing a bit longer. I’ve always been an avid reader, so I think my project is about regeneration, because you’re trying to make something new from something old, and also elegy - that saying goodbye to something, when you finish your book.
“It’s a chance for us to sit a bit longer on that final page and wallow in their loveliness.”
What he’s careful not to do is give away plot spoilers, but instead, like the blurb on the back page, entice listeners to explore the novel for themselves.
“I feel I haven’t done my job right if it doesn’t make you want to go and read the book yourself. There’s some literature I have to avoid obviously; you don’t want to sing an Agatha Christie last page. But the last pages in books aren’t really for plots. They’re usually more reflective, to close the scene and to cast one last spell. That’s why they were such a lovely place to explore.”
Talking about his creative process, Williams says “you can find a new beginning at the end of any story if you sit at the piano for long enough”, with some more obvious than others.
“I started with books I knew and loved. Sometimes the last page of a book leaves you hanging. That moment before we close a book for the final time, there is that sense of tragedy, romance, poignancy, heartache or melancholy. My job is to capture that mood.
“I sit at the piano, with the last page open and read it, talk it through, maybe sing a wee bit and place a chord.”
A time-consuming process, after that initial play with the last page and seeing the possibility of a song, Williams would always start at the beginning of the book again.
“I wouldn’t like to sing a song if I hadn’t read the whole book.”
As well as having held creative workshops with schools and groups across Scotland, Williams challenges viewers in his concerts to have a go at bringing the books to life through song.
“Every book you pick up has a story in it to be discovered and celebrated. They come to life differently every time depending on how people interpret them. One of the things I do in the concert is I read this last page, and I say to the audience, ‘Imagine the song and then I’ll sing you the one I found’.”
You can’t judge a book by its cover, but you can judge it by the song on its last page
— Gareth Williams
An Edinburgh College of Art fellow, Williams is a former composer in residence at Scottish Opera, where he created several works including Elephant Angel (with libretto by Bernard MacLaverty).
He returned to Scottish Opera recently to work on their Breathe II project, a musical therapy programme aimed at helping people with long Covid and aphasia, creating the Covid Songbook and online projects.
“Originally we worked with people with cystic fibrosis on Breathe Cycle, and when the pandemic came, we got back together. The interventions are about helping people with their breathing and to find their physical voice, but also express their emotional voice too.
“As well as online singing lessons, I run a songwriting course with writer Mark O’Connor where we invite participants to give us their thoughts about living with long Covid and we respond to their words creatively.”
Williams will showcase his new musical, A History of Paper, at next month’s Edinburgh Fringe Festival. The adaptation from the late Oliver Emanuel’s radio play is a love story told through the little pieces of paper that make up a life.
“We’ve worked on it for a good few years, but Ollie passed away last December from brain cancer, so it’s been a very emotional process. With this story Ollie was keen to celebrate the joy we find in things and the musical is sharing that.
“Every artist has their preoccupations, and mine does seem to be printed text and paper, for sure,” he laughs.
