Liverpool Oratorio: War's Lament, Hope's Refrain

The Liverpool Blitz Memorial designed by Tom Murphy features a mother with arms outstretched beckoning her child to seek shelter from the bombs of WWII. Photo by Caroline Clegg.

By Caroline Clegg

In preparing to stage Liverpool Oratorio, I immediately recalled its haunting refrain “… and I will always love you. I’ll welcome you into this world …” sung by a mother to her baby amidst the trauma of war. It struck me how relevant this piece is today with the immediacy of the music and libretto. When I first heard Liverpool Oratorio in 1991, I remember how this refreshingly honest contemporary work exploded layers of classical hierarchical norms. It reached the top of the classical charts, and you would hear people singing short refrains from it or catch it on the radio. It spoke directly to people, becoming a cultural touchstone that echoed shared hopes and dreams. Now three decades on, the libretto resonates even more sharply, communicating that we all still cherish “a family life” (whatever shape that family takes) in a community that we are proud of, because whatever happens “… we must save the child.”

Being from the north of England, I felt it was vital that this staging be embedded with the grit, authenticity, and humor of its birthplace. I visited Liverpool, just a few miles from my home, to listen to the music in its home setting. Sitting and listening to the piece through headphones in the open-air space of the bombed-out church of St. Luke’s (bombed in 1941), I was reminded quite viscerally of how voices of the past are ever-present in all our lives, whether as a direct result of war or as our worries and insecurities of a family crisis. The statue of two First World War soldiers, one British and one German, shaking hands outside the church, seemed to echo the oftused phrase that WWI was supposed to be “the war to end all wars.” The gravestones of the hundreds of child orphans lining the cemetery walls served as a heartfelt prompt to give voice to them and the voice - less orphans of today.

The oratorio’s impassioned beginning looks back to Liverpool in 1942, amidst the horror of the Second World War (which Paul McCartney was born into), where death is ever-present. But war is never resigned to history, and in 2024 the mother’s words “the world you’re coming into is no easy place to enter; every day is haunted by the echoes of the past”—are a stark reminder of our present global challenges. Musically, the piece plunges you directly into the heartbeat of birth and death. Dramatically, I have echoed this and tried to portray life’s journey and the hope for a better future. To enrich the narrative’s authenticity, each ensemble member has a backstory of a real person from Liverpool. I have also introduced dancers to represent the inner voices of Shanty and Mary and personify “hope,” which rises phoenix-like from the wreckage of the bombed city.

Through Shanty’s story, we see the post-war community rebuilding. We see societal shifts and nuances of male hierarchy, and we smile at the antics of the schoolboys and the awkwardness of being at a church dance with the grown-ups. We feel the shock and aloneness of a bereaved teenager and the stressful work-life balance of newlywed Baby Boomers of the 1960s. This gives way to the final peaceful understanding that it is in our own hands to change and “… be fair to each other.

Designer Leslie Travers and I have worked together to realize settings that allow for both the epic depiction of war and the intimate reflections of daily life. We found poignant inspiration from the Liverpool Blitz Memorial, depicting a mother holding a baby and a boy with a plane on the spiral staircase of an air-raid shelter. Our set sits alongside the River Mersey, where the ebb and flow metaphorically parallel life’s journey, and we can share its universality here alongside the Ohio River. Sir Paul’s school motto is heard throughout, reminding us of our desire for peace in our global family today: “Non nobis solum, Sed Toti mundo, nati. Toti mundo nat.” “Not for ourselves, but for the whole world, were we born.” Perhaps the Liverpool Oratorio is a timeless testament to the power of music to move hearts and minds and effect change.


Caroline Clegg is an international stage director, whose recent work includes Blaze of Glory for Welsh National Opera and next, Slave: A Question of Freedom for Feelgood Theatre. She lives in Manchester, UK, and rides a Triumph Bonneville.