“Ombra mai fù”

George Frideric Handel (1658-1759) was a prolific composer of the Baroque era. As a young musician, Handel found himself immersed in compositional techniques while studying across Europe. This influence inspired him to illustriously create unique harmonic progressions and memorable melodic lines, and audiences humming along well after performances have ended. His impeccable cosmopolitan flair enamored listeners and left patrons desiring more. Handel’s employment in England at the King’s Theatre kickstarted his career as the nation’s primary operatic provider, which spurred an abundance of opera, oratorio, musical dramas, church music, and other magnificent concert works.

In April of 1738, Handel composed and premiered his opera Serse (also known as ‘Xerses’) at the King’s Theatre in London. Though largely fictional, the plot is based on Herodotus’ account of the Greco-Persian wars (425 B.C.). The title-role is a nod to the Persian king Xerxes I. “Ombra mai fù,” Xerxes’ first aria in the beginning of Act I, is an affectionate praise to the shade of a plane tree. The text is simple and tender, similarly to the melodic lines that Handel uses to illustrate the affectionate sighs of Xerses to the plane tree. The larghetto (Italian for wide) tempo marking implies that the meter of the piece is calm, much like the shady garden where Xerses finds himself. Fun fact: because of its memorable melody, listeners have coined this aria as “Handel’s Largo.”

“All’afflitto è dolce il pianto”

Gaetano Donizetti (1797-1848), one of the three primary composers of the early Romantic bel canto (Italian for beautiful singing) era, rivaling the stylistic works of Gioachino Rossini and Vincenzo Bellini. He is widely known for his large output of operatic compositions, such as Anna Bolena, Don Pasquale, Lucia di Lammermoor, L’elisir d’amore, La fille du régiment, Fausta, Le favorite, and Roberto Devereux. The style of singing during this era in music history had transformed into what the Italian “school” of voice pedagogy termed bel canto. Voice teachers expected singers to find beauty in the evenness of vocal tone, smooth and languid phrasing, with an exceptional ability to maneuver through highly florid passages, and many other technical skills that are diligently practiced, ensuring that “beautiful singing” is achieved on the breath with each note. Donizetti directly reflects these stylistic principles in each of his musical works so that each singer can demonstrate the soulful beauty of the natural singing voice.

Roberto Devereux is a tragic opera loosely based on the story of Robert Devereux, Second Earl of Essex, who was a central figure in the court of Queen Elizabeth I of England during the Tudor period (1485-1603). In its revision, Donizetti added an overture which included the melody of God Save the Queen, a direct nod to the star English monarch of the story. “All’afflitto è dolce il pianto” is Sara’s, the Dutchess of Nottingham, and a close confidant to Queen Elizabeth—first aria that opens Act I. She is inconsolable despite trying to hide her emotions from the ladies-in-waiting desperately trying to cheer her up. She is in love with someone who is not her husband—Roberto Devereux, who is involved directly with the Queen. In this mournful lament, Donizetti’s accompaniment is simple underneath the melody lines, outlining arpeggiated chords to highlight the natural beauty of the voice as Sara cries over her broken heart. There are two florid passages in the aria, one ascending to directly reflect the rage and heartbreak Sara experiences when she realizes that the storybook character of Rosamonda is able to die and escape her love triangle while she must relive the torture each day.

Zigeunermelodien

Antonín Dvořák (1841-1904) is regarded as one of the great nationalist Czech composers of the nineteenth century. He is internationally well-known for implementing aspects of Moravian folk music within his symphonies, chamber music, oratorios, songs, and operas. His rise to international fame began when he won the Austrian State Competition in 1874, where Johannes Brahms was one of the jurors. After his third win in 1877, Brahms recommended Dvorak to his publisher, Simrock. This introduction launched the Czech composer’s international success through the commissioning of the Slavic Dances, Opus 46 (1878, 1886). Other Simrock commissions, such as the Stabat Mater (1883) and the Seventh Symphony (1885) led to many more performances in the United Kingdom, United States, and Russia. After briefly moving to the United States, Dvořák composed his most highly-regarded works: Symphony No. 9, “From the New World'' (1893), Cello Concerto in B minor, Op. 104 (1894), and String Quartet in F major, “American Quartet,” Opus 96 (1893). Each year, the Czech Republic holds several concert events known as the Dvořák Prague International Music Festival to commemorate the composer’s life and musical accomplishments.

Zigeunermelodien is a poem cycle originally written by Adolf Heyduk (1835-1923), known by the English translation of Gypsy Melodies. Heyduk was a Czech poet and writer who wrote the cycle Poems in 1859. In 1880, by request, Dvořák chose seven of Heyduk’s poems to create an original vocal work for a tenor who frequently presented the composer’s vocal works on recitals. To do so for this singer, who was performing in Vienna during the time, Dvořák asked Heyduk to translate the Czech into German so that the text could be as close to the original language as possible. Simrock published the first version of Zigeunermelodien (Gypsy Songs) with only the German text, due to anti-Czech feelings and rising political tension in Vienna, which sparked much criticism from the Czech press due to Dvořák’s deep connection and devotion to his fatherland. After many imploring letters to his publishers to acknowledge his Czech birthright, Dvořák convinced Simrock to print the vocal score in both languages, Zigeunermelodien and Cigánské Melodie.

The text of Zigeunermelodien is rooted in the connection between man and nature, as it was originally written from a male’s perspective. Many of the themes discussed in this cycle focus on the fundamental need for music, the importance of freedom in one’s life, and how these should be valued above all. Dvořák pairs the text with the music harmoniously—there is a beautiful union between the vocal line and the accompanying piano, where each is dependent upon the other to tell a story of how man is bound to music by nature. Many of his pieces throughout the cycle, such as Mein Lied ertönt, Rings ist der Wald, and Als die alte Mutter each begin with a piano introduction that precedes the melody, demonstrating the reliance upon music. These melodies do not imitate specific aspects of gypsy folklore; the style of the instrumental accompaniment paints the scene in which the text presents. Als die alte Mutter, the fourth song of this cycle, is the most popular song and is performed frequently in concert repertoire. The piece tangles audiences with emotion as the music, written with two different meters in the accompaniment and vocal line, imitates the lullabies of a grandmother that are now being passed down to the speaker’s own children.

Four Songs

Samuel Barber (1910-1981), American composer, pianist, conductor, baritone, and music educator, was a highly celebrated and prolific music writer of the mid-twentieth century. He embraced the traditions of nineteenth century lyricism and emotional expression but began to implement chromaticism and dissonance into his compositions after 1940. He received numerous awards and prizes, including the Rome Prize, two Pulitzer Prizes, the Henry Hadley Medal (1958), and the Gold Medal for Music at the American Academy and Institute of Arts and Letters (1976). Some of his most notable compositions include Adagio for Strings, Opus 11 (1936), his ballet suite Medea (1946), Knoxville: Summer of 1915 (1948), Prayers of Kierkegaard (1954), Vanessa (1957), Hermit Songs (1953), and Antony and Cleopatra (1966).

Four Songs is a collection of four pieces that are not in relation to one another, but rather songs he composed separately and published together in an opus. The complete set was composed between 1937-1940, including songs A Nun Takes the Veil, The Secrets of the Old, Sure on This Shining Night, and Nocturne, the latter which became a favorite among his audiences.

The first piece, A Nun Takes the Veil, set to a poem written by Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844-1889), in which the speaker officially decides to fully devote herself to God, to go to a metaphorical place where spring, the symbol of rebirth, never fails and lilies bloom, where storms never swell over green pastures—a place where she can escape the restlessness and trials of life, where God is and His protection will be. Barber’s composition mirrors her declaration by beginning each phrase with a large sweep of colorful chords that decorate the simple, speech-like quality of the vocal line.

The Secrets of the Old is a poem that explores the experience of aging. Written by W.B. Yeats (1865-1939), the speaker, now an older woman, has the wisdom and secrets that come with age. Yeats depicts three women in the poem, representing the small group that remains over time that can share the stories of the past. There is much kept hidden between these women, and so much to learn. Barber plays into the joy that the speaker has found in her age as he sets this piece at a faster tempo than the other three in the collection. Additionally, Barber changes meter several times throughout the entire piece to signify the challenges that the speaker has endured over her life, but the reward that it has given her once there are beautiful lyrical moments—a true reflection of his signature compositional style.

Sure on This Shining Night is the third song of the collection, derived from James Agee’s (1901-1955) poem “Description of Elysium,” one of the writings in his collection Permit Me Voyage (1934). Agee, a Knoxville native, depicts a calm image of a starry summer night that illuminates the world around the speaker, evoking a sense of peace and tranquility to the audience as nature is allowed to heal and the earth is restored to its natural beauty. Barber, taken with Agee’s work, mirrors the tone by of the piece by keeping much of the music lyrical and emotional, implementing comforting chordal progressions and rolling chords that make listeners feel as if they are basking in a beautiful night sky. He also uses canonic imitation. In the beginning of the piece, Barber introduces a memorable melody in the vocal line, then repeats the same melody in the accompaniment after a delay of two beats. Once the voice returns to the similar text of “Sure on this shining night,” Barber has switched the canon; now, the accompaniment begins the melodic idea while the voice echoes until the end of the piece.

Nocturne, the final piece in the cycle, is one of Barber’s most notable vocal songs. Barber extracted the poetry of Nocturne from Fredric Prokosch’s collection titled The Carnival (1938). The selection did not have a title in the anthology of poems. Thus, Barber analyzed the poetry, composed, and titled the piece as a homage to John Field (1782-1837), the first creator of the nocturne (French for of the night)—a song over an arpeggiated accompaniment. The text depicts an intimate and heartbreaking moment between two souls, one of which is comforting another into the calm night that embraces those in death. Barber remains faithful to the original definition of the first nocturne as he arpeggiated each chord throughout the entire piece while the vocal line sings a beautiful melody. The accompaniment is always moving underneath the voice. As the speaker is becoming more animated when encouraging their loved one to go towards the light, there is a surge of tension with the addition of more chromatic notes that clash together in the voice and accompaniment. However, as the speaker begins to let their lover move on from the earthly plane, the tension releases as the dissonance resolves and the vocal line soars over a grand sweep of an arpeggiation in the piano. This is the first time that Barber, compositionally, incorporates chromaticism into his lyrical vocal works, breaking the traditional nineteenth-century style he highly favored.

Vingt Mèlodies

Georges Bizet (1838-1875), a French composer of the Romantic era, was an exceptional composer of his time despite only living to the age of 36. During his youth, he was a student at the Conservatoire de Paris and was awarded several prestigious prizes for his compositional works, such as the Prix de Rome Scholarship in 1857 During his conservatory years, Bizet was mentored by French composer Charles Gounod, became close friends with Camille Saint-Saëns and Jules Massenet, as well as a regular party guest of Jacques Offenbach’s after his participation in the Prix de Rome competition. Needless to say, Bizet’s impressive skill as a pianist was catching the eyes of many who could propel him on his path to becoming a successful musician. His most successful work, Carmen, is performed worldwide years after his death and is highly favored by opera fans. In addition to some operatic works, Bizet composed many orchestral, solo piano, choral, cantata, and solo vocal arrangements. Vingt mélodies is a collection of twenty songs that do not have a poetic connection. Bizet composed these individual songs by themselves, each with their own intention and service to the text, while the publisher of his choice grouped them together in a collection of twenty pieces for high voices and low voices.

Adieux de l’hôtesse arabe is the fourth piece in this collection of mélodies, set to a poem by Victor Hugo (1802-1885), a French poet, novelist, and dramatist best known for his novel Les Misérables (1862) and Notre-Dame de Paris (1831), or The Hunchback of Notre-Dame. The text of this mélodie is a farewell from an Arabian hostess to a western traveler who has spent some time with the women of the dunes. She teases him of the luxuries he experienced while being pleasured by these women, and that not even the intimate moments he shared with these girls could keep him from leaving. The accompaniment of the piece is reminiscent of an Arabian dance, with the intricate repeating rhythms underneath a weaving melody line, as if the voice is like the enchanting lure of the pungi, a flute-like instrument that snake charmers use hypnotize the slithering beasts for crowd-pleasing street performances. The hostess warns the traveler to remember his time in the sands. Bizet pairs this text with a descending melodic line, step-wise, then skipping in triplets, to illustrate the seductive nature of the hostess’ hypnotism over the traveler and how the magnetism of his time in the dunes shall never leave his memory, as if he had stepped into another dimension in time and space.

Absence, the thirteenth song in Bizet’s song cycle, is quite different from Adieux de l’hôtesse arabe. Where Hugo’s poetry depicts an Arabian hostess waving a western traveler off on his travels, Théophile Gautier’s (1811-1872) setting is much more serious. Absence is one of the several poems Bizet selected from Gautier’s La Comedie de la Mort (1838) in which the Romantic poet began translating deaths into an exhilarating experience, which momentarily distracts audiences away from the gruesome and tragic reality of death from the frequent epidemics that swept France during the nineteenth century. The text depicts a soul mourning for their lover to return to them, which can be interpreted by the dramatic and emotional weight of the triplets in the accompaniment from the beginning of the piece. The melody also begins in a higher part of the vocal register, which can imply that the speaker is crying out to their lover, “Return to me!” The melody line sweeps the middle and high part of the singer’s range to demonstrate the emotional intensity that the speaker feels by this exhilarating experience of losing a lover, the excruciating absence that floods their heart and physical space, and the frustration and release that must come from grief. Further in the text, the speaker wishes for their soul to fly to the land that has taken their lover, a country that is over the mountains and the ravines. However, in the third verse, they realize that their body cannot follow the thought, their physical being cannot follow where the soul has gone after death. The piece repeats melodically three times, each time with more animation as the speaker begs for his lover to return to them, finally releasing their madness as the vocal line soars to their highest note, text begging the lost lover to gain wings and fly back to the nest of love.

Awake Saturnia…Iris, hence away!

Semele was Handel’s first attempt at fusing classical drama, opera, and oratorio. During this time in the early 1740s, Handel was primarily composing biblical oratorios and liturgical dramas. The story is heavily secular as it tells of adulterous love affairs between Roman deities despite premiering during the solemn season of Lent in 1744. Handel performed Semele ‘in the Manner of an Oratorio,’ which, in the 1740s, was not staged (also known as concert form). Juno, the Roman queen of the gods, is informed by her attendant, Iris, that her debaucherous husband, Jupiter, has constructed a palace for Semele, the daughter of the mortal King of Thebes, upon Mount Cithaeron. She swears to reap vengeance upon Semele and the mortal race for her husband’s adulterous behaviors. In her anger, the queen resolves to call upon Somnus, the god of sleep, to grant her access to a well-guarded place. In this aria, Handel reflects Juno’s anger in the accompaniment. The incessant rhythm in the accompaniment parallels the erratic heartbeat of the scored woman. Her florid melodic lines demonstrate her angry cries for revenge, moving rapidly throughout the range. At the end of the second section of the aria, Juno’s rage comes to a head as she soars throughout her vocal range, gliding quickly when singing about the “wakeful dragon’s eyes,” which, if listening closely, one can imagine the waking of the ominous sleeping, fiery beast as it stands over its next victim with ferocious flames ready to fire down.

“Ombra mai fù” from Serses
George Frideric Handel
(1685-1759)

Ombra mai fù 
di vegetabile
cara ed amabile 
soave più.

Never was a shade
of any plant
nearer and more lovely
or more sweet.

Translation by Robert Glaubitz, Opera Aria Database (1990)

“All’afflitto è dolce il pianto” from Roberto Devereux
Gaetano Donizetti
(1797-1848)

All'afflitto è dolce il pianto
E la gioia che gli resta…
Una stella a me funesta
Anche il pianto mi vietò.
Della tua più cruda, oh quanto,
Rosamonda, è la mia sorte!
Tu peristi d'una morte …
Io vivendo ognor morrò

To one who is sad, how sweet it is the weeping…
It is the only joy that remains to him…
An ill-omened star 
Also forbids that even I may weep.
Oh, Rosamonda, how much more cruel is my fate than yours!
You perished, ah, in death, 
mine will be a living death!

Translation by Nico Castel, Italian Bel Canto Opera Libretti Vol. 2 (2000)

Opus 55: Zigeunermelodien
Antonín Dvorák
(1841-1904)

1. Mein Leid ertönt, ein Liebespsalm,
beginnt der Tag zu sinken;
Und wenn das Moos, der welke Halm
Tauperlen heimlich trinken.

Mein Lied ertönt voll Wanderlust
in grünen Waldeshallen,
und auf der Pussta weitem Plan
lass‘ frohen Sang‘ ich schallen.

Mein Lied ertönt voll Liebe auch,
wenn Heidesturme toben;
wenn sich zum letzten Lebenzhauch
des Bruders Brust gehoben.

My song resounds, a hymn of love,
When the day begins to set;
And when the moss, the wilted stem,
are secretly bedecked with pearls of dew.

My song resounds filled with the joy of
traveling in the green halls of the woods,
and on the puszta’s wide plane
I let happy songs ring out. 

My song resounds filled with love also,
When moorland storms rage;
when it with the last breath of life
my brother’s breast is raised.

2. Ei, wie mein Triangel wunderherrlich läutet! 
Leicht bei solchen klängen,
in den Tod man schreitet!
In den Tod man schreitet beim Triangel schallen.
Lieder, Reigen, Liebe!
Lebewohl dem Allen.

Ei! How my triangel rings wonderfully! 
Easy with sounds like that,
One goes to one’s death!
One goes to one’s death while hearing the sound of a triangle.
Songs, Dances, Love!
Farewell to all!

3. Rings ist der Wald so stumm und still,
das Hertz schlägt mir so bange;
der schwarze Rauch sinkt tiefer stets
und trocknet meine Wange.

Ei, meine Tränen trocknen nicht,
musst andre Wange suchen!
Wer nur den Schmerz besingen kann,
wird nicht dem Tode fluchen!

All around is the wood so mute and still,
My heart beats in me so anxiously;
the black smoke settles deeper still
and dries my cheeks.

Ah, but my tears will not be dried,
the dark smoke must seek out other cheeks!
only he who can sing of his pain,
will not be cursed by death.

4. Als die alte Mutter mich noch lehrte singen,
Tränen in den Wimpern gar so oft ihr hingen.

Jetzt wo ich die Kleinen selber üb‘ im Sange,
Rieselt’s mir vom Auge, rieselt’s oft mir auf die braune Wange.

When my old mother taught me singing,
Tears very often hung in her eyelashes.

Now that I teach the children to sing,
My tears often flow from my eyes, often fall on my brown cheeks.

5. Reingestimmt die Saiten, 
Bursche, tanz’ im Kreise!
Heute froh und morgen?
Trüb’ nach alter Weise!
Nächster Tag’ am Nile,
An der Väter Tische 
Reinsgstimmt die Saiten,
In den Tanz dich mische!
Reingestimmt die Saiten!
Bursche, tanz’ im Kreise!

Tuned are the strings
Lad, dance in a circle!
Happy today, and tomorrow?
Sad in the old custom!
The following day on the Nile,
At the father’s table,
Tuned are the strings,
Join in the dance!

6. In dem weiten, breiten, luft’gen Leinenkleide
freier der Zigeuner als in Gold und Seide!

Jaj! Der gold’ne Dolman schnürt die Brust so
enge hemmt des freien Liedes wanderfrohe Klänge;

Und wer Freude findet an der Lieder Schallen,
lässt das Gold, das schnöde, in die Hölle fallen.

In the wide, broad, airy linen-clothes freer is
the gypsy than in gold and silk!

Ah! The golden dolman constricts the breast so tightly,
it hinders the happy traveling song’s free melodies;

And whoever finds joy in the song’s sound,
lets loathsome gold go to hell.

7. Darf es Falken Schwinge Tatrahöh’n umrauschen,
wird das Felsennest er mit dem Käfig tauschen?

Kann das wilde Fohlen jagen durch die Heide,
wird’s am Zaum und Zügel finden seine Freude?

Hat Natur, Zigeuner, etwas dir gegeben?
Jaj! zur Freiheit schuf sie mir das ganze Leben!

If the winged falcon can soar above Tatra’s heights,
would it exchange its rocky nest for a cage?

If a wild foal can race through the moorland,
would it on bridle and rein find its happiness?

Has nature, O gypsy, given you something?
She has given me freedom all my life!

English Translations by Bard Suverkrop, IPA Source (2020)

Opus 21: Vingt Mélodies
Georges Bizet
(1838-1875)

4. Adieux de l’hôtesse arabe

Puisque rien ne t’arrête en cet heureux pays,
Ni l’ombre du palmier, ni le jaune maïs,
Ni le repos, ni l’abondance,
Ni de voir à ta voix battre le jeune sein
De nos sœurs, dont, les soirs, le tournoyant essaim
Couronne un coteau de sa danse,

Adieu, beau voyageur! Hélas adieu.
Oh! que n’es-tu de ceux
Qui donnent pour limite à leurs pieds paresseux
Leur toit de branches ou de toiles!
Que, rêveurs, sans en faire, écoutent les récits,
Et souhaitent, le soir, devant leur porte assis,
De s’en aller dans les étoiles!

Si tu l’avais voulu, peut-être une de nous,
O jeune homme, eût aimé te servir à genoux
Dans nos huttes toujours ouvertes;
Elle eût fait, en berçant ton sommeil de ses chants,
Pour chasser de ton front les moucherons méchants,
Un éventail de feuilles vertes.

Si tu ne reviens pas, songe un peu quelquefois
Aux filles du désert, sœurs à la douce voix,
Qui dansent pieds nus sur la dune;
O beau jeune homme blanc, bel oiseau passager,
Souviens-toi, car peut-être, ô rapide étranger,
Ton souvenir reste à plus d’une!

Hélas! Adieu! bel étranger! Souviens-toi!

Since nothing can keep you in this happy land,
neither shade-giving palm nor yellow corn,
nor repose, nor abundance,
nor the sight of our sisters’ young breasts trembling
at your voice as, in a whirling swarm at evening,
they garland a hillside with their dance,

Farewell, fair traveler! Ah!
Why are you not like those
whose indolent feet venture no further
than their roofs of branches or canvas!
Who, musing, listen passively to tales
and dream at evening, sitting before their door,
of wandering among the stars!

Had you so wished, perhaps one of us,
O young man, would fain have served you, kneeling, in our ever-open huts;
lulling you asleep with songs, she would have made, to chase the noisome midges from your brow, a fan of green leaves.

If you do not return, dream at times
of the daughters of the desert, sweet-voiced sisters,
who dance barefoot on the dunes;
O handsome young white man, fair bird of passage,
remember – for perhaps, O fleeting stranger,
more than one maiden will remember you!

Alas! Farewell, fair stranger! Remember!

Translation by Richard Stokes, A French Song Companion (2000)

13. Absence

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 tant de distance ;
Tant d'espace entre nos baisers.
Ô sort amer! ô dure absence!
Ô grands désirs inapaisés!

Au pays qui me prend ma belle,
Hélas! si je pouvais aller;
Et si mon corps avait une aile
Comme mon âme pour voler!

Par-dessus les vertes collines,
Les montagnes au front d'azur,
Les champs rayés et les ravines,
J'irais d'un vol rapide et sûr.

Le corps ne suit pas la pensée;
Pour moi, mon âme, va tout droit,
Comme une colombe blessée,
T'abattre au rebord de son toit.

Et dis, mon âme, à cette belle:
«Tu sais bien qu'il compte les jours!
Ô ma colombe! à tire d'aile,
Retourne au nid de nos amours.»

Return, return, my beloved!
Like a flower far from the sun,
The flower of my life is shut,
Far from your rosy smile!

Between our hearts such distance!
Such space between our kisses!
O bitter destiny! O harsh absence! 
O great, unappeasable desires!

To the land that has taken my love
Ah! if only I could go;
If only my body had wings
With which to fly, like my soul!

Over the green hills,
Over mountains with azure brows,
Over scraped fields and ravines,
I would go on a rapid and secure flight.

The body does not obey the thought;
For me, my soul goes straight ahead
And, like a wounded dove,
Collapses upon the edge of her roof.

And say, my soul, to this beauty:
"You know well that he is counting the days!
O my dove! Take flight
And return to the nest of our love."

Translation by Emily Ezust, LiederNet Archive (2015)