"AFTERNOON OF SONG"
Wednesday, August 3, 2022
3:15 pm
Antheneaum Hotel Parlor
with Megan Fleischmann, soprano
Nicole Heinen, soprano
Olivia Johnson, mezzo-soprano
Marcus Jefferson, tenor
and Emily Jarrel Urbanek, Dottie Randall, Kristin Roach, Allison Voth, pianists
Pace non trovo
Franz Liszt
Mr. Jefferson and Ms. Roach
***
from Les nuits d’été
Hector Berlioz
Absence
Ms. Johnson and Ms. Randall
from Quatre chansons de jeunesse
Claude Debussy
Pierrot
Apparition
Ms. Fleischmann and Ms. Jarrell Urbanek
from Cinq mélodies populaires grecques
Maurice Ravel
Chanson de la mariée / Ξύπνησε πετροπέρδικα
Là-bas, vers l’église / Κάτω στον Άγιο Σίδερο
Chanson des cueilleuses de lentisques / Άγγελος είσαι μάτια μου
Quel galant m’est comparable / Ποιος ασίκης
Ms. Heinen and Ms. Randall
***
Morgen Op. 27, No. 4.
Richard Strauss
Mr. Jefferson and Ms. Randall
Nocturne
Joseph Marx
Ms. Johnson and Ms. Jarrell Urbanek
Gigerlette
Arnold Schönberg
Ms. Heinen and Ms. Voth
Kling! Op. 48, No. 3
Richard Strauss
Ms. Fleischmann and Ms. Roach
***
Chautauqua Opera Company and American Opera Project Song Commission:
The Open Door of Every Question (world premiere)
Mary Prescott
Ms. Johnson and Ms. Jarrell Urbanek
***
Hold Fast to Dreams
Florence Price
Ms. Fleischmann and Ms. Jarrell Urbanek
from Moments in Sonder
B.E. Boykin
Tears
A Conceit
Greyday
Sounds like pearls
Ms. Johnson and Ms. Voth
from Cantata
John Carter
Ride on King Jesus
Mr. Jefferson and Ms. Jarrell Urbanek
***
from Cuatro madrigals amatorios
Joaquin Rodrigo
De donde venis, amore
Ms. Fleischmann and Ms.Voth
from Cinco canciones populares argentinas Op. 10
Alberto Ginastera
Tata Nácho
Zamba
Intima
Mr. Jefferson and Ms. Randall
from Cinco canciones negras
Xavier Montsalvatge
Canto negro
Ms. Johnson and Ms. Jarrell Urbanek
from Las hijas del Zebedeo
Ruperto Chapì
Las Carceleras
Ms. Heinen and Ms. Roach
Libertango
Astor Piazzola
Ms. Heinen, Ms. Fleischmann, Ms. Johnson, Mr. Jefferson and Ms. Voth
Pace non trovo
Francesco Petrarch
Pace non trovo, et non ò da far guerra;
e temo, et spero; et ardo, et son un ghiaccio;
Et volo sopra ‘l cielo, et giaccio in terra;
et nulla stringo, et tutto 'l mondo abbraccio.
Tal m'à in pregion, che non m'apre né serra,
né per suo mi riten né scioglie il laccio;
et non m'ancide Amore, et non mi sferra,
né mi vuol vivo, né mi trae d'impaccio.
Veggio senza occhi, et non ò lingua et grido;
et bramo di perir, et cheggio aita;
et ò in odio me stesso, et amo altrui.
Pascomi di dolor, piangendo rido;
egualmente mi spiace morte et vita:
in questo stato son, donna, per voi.
I find no peace
Sir Thomas Wyatt
I find no peace, and all my war is done.
I fear and hope. I burn and freeze like ice.
I fly above the wind, yet can I not arise;
And nought I have, and all the world I season.
That loseth nor locket holdeth me in prison
And holdeth me not— yet can I scape no wise—
Nor letteth me live nor die at my device,
And yet of death it giveth me occasion.
Without eyen I see, and without tongue I plain.
I desire to perish, and yet I ask health.
I love another, and thus I hate myself.
I feed me in sorrow and laugh in all my pain;
Likewise displeaseth me both life and death,
And my delight is causer of this strife.
Absence
Théophile Gautier
Reviens, reviens, ma bien-aimée;
Comme une fleur loin du soleil,
La fleur de ma vie est fermée
Loin de ton sourire vermeil!
Entre nos cœurs quelle distance!
Tant d’espace entre nos baisers!
Ô sort amer! ô dure absence!
Ô grands désirs inapaisés!
Reviens, reviens, ma bien-aimée.
Comme une fleur loin du soleil,
La fleur de ma vie est fermée
Loin de ton sourire vermeil!
D’ici là-bas, que de campagnes,
Que de villes et de hameaux,
Que de vallons et de montagnes,
À lasser le pied des chevaux.
Reviens, reviens, ma bien-aimée.
Comme une fleur loin du soleil,
La fleur de ma vie est fermée
Loin de ton sourire vermeil
Absence
English Translations © Richard Stokes
Return, return, my sweetest love!
Like a flower far from the sun,
The flower of my life is closed
Far from your crimson smile!
Such a distance between our hearts!
So great a gulf between our kisses!
O bitter fate! O harsh absence!
O great unassuaged desires
Return, return, my sweetest love!
Like a flower far from the sun,
The flower of my life is closed
Far from your crimson smile!
So many intervening plains,
So many towns and hamlets,
So many valleys and mountains
To weary the horses’ hooves.
Return, return, my sweetest love!
Like a flower far from the sun,
The flower of my life is closed
Far from your crimson smile!
Pierrot
Théodore de Banville
Le bon Pierrot, que la foule contemple,
Ayant fini les noces d’Arlequin,
Suit en songeant le boulevard du Temple.
Une fillette au souple casaquin
En vain l’agace de son œil coquin;
Et cependant mystérieuse et lisse
Faisant de lui sa plus chère délice,
La blanche lune aux cornes de taureau
Jette un regard de son œil en coulisse
À son ami Jean Gaspard Deburau.
Pierrot
English Translation © Richard Stokes
Good old Pierrot, watched by the crowd
Having done with Harlequin’s wedding,
Drifts dreamily along the boulevard of the Temple
A girl in a flowing blouse
Vainly leads him on with her teasing eyes;
And meanwhile, mysterious and sleek,
Cherishing him above all else,
The white moon with horns like a bull
Ogles her friend
Jean Gaspard Deburau.
Apparition
Stéphane Mallarmé
La lune s’attristait. Des séraphins en pleurs
Rêvant, l’archet aux doigts, dans le calme des fleurs
Vaporeuses, tiraient de mourantes violes
De blancs sanglots glissant sur l’azur des corolles.
—C’était le jour béni de ton premier baiser
Ma songerie aimant à me martyriser
S’enivrait savamment du parfum de tristesse
Que même sans regret et sans déboire laisse
La cueillaison d’un Rêve au cœur qui l’a cueilli.
J’errais donc, l’œil rivé sur le pavé vieilli,
Quand avec du soleil aux cheveux, dans la rue
Et dans le soir, tu m’es en riant apparue
Et j’ai cru voir la fée au chapeau de claret
Qui jadis sur mes beaux sommeils d’enfant gâté
Passait, laissant toujours de ses mains mal fermées
Neiger de blancs bouquets d’étoiles parfumées.
Apparition
English Translation © Richard Stokes
The moon grew sad. Weeping seraphim,
dreaming, bows in hand, in the calm of hazy
flowers, drew from dying viols
white sobs that glided over the corollas’ blue
—It was the blessed day of your first kiss
My dreaming, glad to torment me,
grew skillfully drunk on the perfumed sadness
that—without regret or bitter after-taste–
the harvest of a Dream leaves in the reaper’s heart.
And so I wandered, my eyes fixed on the old paving stones
when with sun-flecked hair, in the street
and in the evening, you appeared laughing before me
and I thought I glimpsed the fairy with her cap of light
who long ago crossed my lovely spoilt child’s slumbers,
always allowing from her half-closed hands
white bouquets of scented flowers to snow.
Ξύπνησε, ξύπνησε πετροπέρδικα
Anon.
Ξύπνησε, ξύπνησε πετροπέρδικα,
τίναξε τα φτερά σου,
τρεις ελιές και μια βαμένη,
την καρδιά μου χεις καμένη.
Χρυσή κορδέλα σούφερα,
να πλέξεις τα μαλλιά σου.
Βρ' έλα να γινούμεν ταίρια,
κ' οι γονιοί μας συμπεθέρια.
Awake, awake, my partridge
Awake, awake, my partridge,
Shake your wings
Three beauty marks;
My heart is on fire!
See the ribbon of gold that I bring
To tie round your hair.
If you want, my beauty, we shall marry!
In our two families, everyone is related!
Κάτω στον Άγιο Σίδερο
Anon.
Κάτω στον Άγιο Σίδερο,
στον Άγιο, Παναγιά μου,
στον Άγιο Κωνσταντίνο,
μαζεύγουνται, σωριάζονται,
του κόσμου γοι αντριωμένοι.
Yonder, by the church of St. Sidero
Yonder, by the church of St. Sidero,
The church, O blessed Virgin,
The church of St. Costanndino
There are gathered, in numbers infinite,
All the world’s most decent men and women.
Ω ν' άντζελος είσαι, μάτια μου
Anon.
Ω ν' άντζελος είσαι, μάτια μου,
ω, τσ' αντζελικά φορένεις.
Ε τσ' αντζελικά πατείς τη γη,
η κι όλες τας νιες μαραίνεις.
Oh, you are an angel in my eyes
Oh, you are an angel, my eyes,
Oh, how angelic you are to me.
How angelically you tread the earth,
You wither all your youth.
Ποιος ασίκης σαν κ' εμένα
Anon.
Ποιος ασίκης σαν κ' εμένα,
στο μπαζάρι περπατεί...
καπετάν Βασιλιχή;
Με κουμπούρια δυο στη μέση
και με δίκανο σπαθί...
Για σ' αγάπη μου χρυσή.
What gallant compare with me
Translations by Nicole Heinen and Irini Kyriakidou-Hymel
What gallant compares with me,
among those one sees passing by?
Tell me, lady Vassiliki!
See, hanging on my belt,
my pistols and my curved sword.
And it is you whom I love!
Morgen
John Henry Mackay
Und morgen wird die Sonne wieder scheinen
Und auf dem Wege, den ich gehen werde,
Wird uns, die Glücklichen, sie wieder einen
In mitten dieser sonnen atmenden Erde ...
Und zu dem Strand, dem weiten, wogen blauen,
Werden wir still und langsam nieder steigen,
Stumm werden wir uns in die Augen schauen,
Und auf uns sinkt des Glückes stummes Schweigen ...
Tomorrow
Translation © Richard Stokes
And tomorrow the sun will shine again
And on the path that I shall take,
It will unite us, happy ones, again,
Amid this same sun-breathing earth…
And to the shore, broad, blue-waved,
We shall quietly and slowly descend,
Speechless we shall gaze into each other’s eyes,
And the speechless silence of bliss shall fall on us…
Nocturne
Otto E. Hartleben
Süß duftende Lindenblüte
in quellender Juninacht.
Eine Wonne aus meinem Gemüte
ist mir in Sinnen erwacht.
Als klänge vor meinen Ohren
leise das Lied vom Glück,
als töne, die lange verloren,
die Jugend leise zurück.
Süß duftende Lindenblüte
in quellender Juninacht.
Eine Wonne aus meinem Gemüte
ist mir zu Schmerzen erwacht.
Nocturn
Translation by Hélène Lindqvist
Sweet Scented linden blossom
in swelling June night.
A delight from my soul
awakened to my mind.
As if the song of joy
sounded softly in my ears,
as if long-lost youth
resounded quietly back to me.
Sweet scented Linden blossom
in swelling June night
A delight from my soul
awakened as pain.
Gigerlette
Otto Julius Bierbaum
Fräulein Gigerlette
Lud mich ein zum Tee.
Ihre Toilette
War gestimmt auf Schnee;
Ganz wie Pierrette
War sie angetan.
Selbst ein Mönch, ich wette,
Sähe Gigerlette
Wohlgefällig an.
War ein rotes Zimmer,
Drin sie mich empfing,
Gelber Kerzenschimmer
In dem Raume hing.
Und sie war wie immer
Leben und Esprit.
Nie vergess ichs, nimmer:
Weinrot war das Zimmer,
Blütenweiß war sie.
Und im Trab mit Vieren
Fuhren wir zu zweit
In das Land spazieren,
Das heißt Heiterkeit.
Daß wir nicht verlieren
Zügel, Ziel und Lauf,
Saß bei dem Kutschieren
Mit den heißen Vieren
Amor hinten auf.
Gigerlette
English Translation © Richard Stokes
Fräulein Gigerlette
Invited me to tea.
Her attire
harmonized with snow;
She was dressed
Just like Pierrette.
Even a monk, I bet,
Would gaze on Gigerlette
With pleasure.
She received me
In a red room,
Yellow candlelight
Flickered in the air.
And she was, as ever,
Full of life and wit.
I’ll not forget it, never,
The room was wine-red,
She was blossom-white.
And both of us rode off
In a carriage-and-four
Out into the Land
Of Mirth.
In order to reach our goal
And not stray without reins,
Cupid sat atop
At the back
Of our carriage-and-four.
Kling!
Karl Friedrich Henckell
Kling!
Meine Seele gibt reinen Ton.
Und ich wähnte die Arme
Von dem wütenden Harme
Wilder Zeiten zerrissen schon.
Sing!
Meine Seele, den Beichtgesang
Wiedergewonnener Fülle!
Hebe vom Herzen die Hülle!
Heil dir, geläuterter Innenklang!
Kling!
Meine Seele, dein Leben
Quellendes, frisches Gebild!
Blühendes hat sich begeben
Auf dem verdorrten Gefild.
Ring!
English Translation © Shawn Thuris
Ring!
My soul gives forth a pure sound.
And I imagined the poor thing
Already torn apart
By the furious outrages of frantic times.
Sing!
My soul the confessional song
Of exuberance reclaimed;
Lift the pall from your heart.
Hail to thee, chiming note within.
Ring!
Ring out your life,
Fresh, upwelling image.
Blossoming has taken place
Upon the withered field.
De dónde venis, amore
Anon.
¿De dónde venis, amore?
Bien sé yo do donde.
¿De dónde venis, amigo?
Fuere yo testigo!
¡Ah!
Bien sé yo de donde
Where has thou been, my love
Translations by Jacqueline Cockburn and Richard Stokes
Where hast thou been, my love?
I know well where.
Where hast thou been, my friend?
Were I a witness
Ah!
I know well where!
Zamba
Anon.
Hasta las piedras del cerro
Y las arenas del mar
Me dicen que no te quiera
Y no te puedo olvidar.
Si el corazón me has robado
El tuyo me lo has de dar
El que lleva cosa ajena
Con lo suyo ha de pagar
Ay!
Zamba
English Translation by Jacqueline Cockburn
Even the stones on the hillside
and the sand in the sea
tell me not to love you.
But I cannot forget you.
If you have stolen my heart
then you must give me yours.
He who takes what is not his
must return it in kind.
Ay!
Intima
Ricardo López Méndez
¡Tuyo, muy tuyo
Come la perla es del mar
Dentro de ti soy amor
Y ansiedad de vivir!
¡Tuyo, muy tuyo
de nadie más!
¡Mía, muy mâ,
Como del sol es la luz,
Dentro de mí
Eres flor
Y rumor de cancion!
¡Mía, muy mía,
De nadie más!
Intimate
English translation © Jacqueline Cockburn
Yours, very yours
as the pearl is from the sea:
within you I am love
And anxiety to live!
Yours, very yours
No one else’s!
Mine, very mine,
as from the sun is the light,
inside of me
you are flower
And song rumor!
Mine, very mine,
No one else’s!
Carceleras
José Estremera
Al pensar en el dueño de mis amores,
siento yo unos mareos encantadores.
Bendito sea aquel picaronazo
que me marea.
A mi novio yo le quiero
porque roba corazones
con su gracia y su salero.
El me tiene muy ufana
porque hay muchas que le quieren
y se quedan con las ganas.
Caprichosa yo nací,
y le quiero solamente,
solamente para mí.
Que quitarme a mí su amor
es lo mismo que quitarle
las hojitas a una flor.
Yo me muero de gozo
cuando me mira,
y me vuelvo jalea
cuando suspira.
Si me echa flores
siento el corazoncito
morir de amores.
Porque tiene unos ojillos
que me miran entornados,
muy gachones y muy pillos,
y me dicen ¡ay! lucero,
que por esa personita
me derrito yo y me muero.
Carceleras
English Translation © Beate Binnig
When I think of the lord
of my love, I feel a charming dizziness.
Blessed be that rascal
who makes me feel so dizzy.
I love my beloved
because he steals hearts,
with his grace and his charm.
He makes me feel proud
because a lot of girls love him
But they are left with their desire.
Capricious I was born
and I want him all for myself,
only for myself.
To take away from me his love
is the same as ripping off
the leaves of a flower.
I die of pleasure
when he looks at me,
and I lose my head
when he sighs.
When he throws flowers at me
I feel my little heart
die of love.
For he has sweet eyes
which look at me half-open
very tenderly and very naughtily,
telling me “Oh, my darling,
for this little one
I will lose my soul and die.”