Voice Student Recital Program Notes

March 21, 2023

Notre Amour by Gabriel Fauré (1845-1924); text by Armand Silvestre (1837-1901)
Our love is something light like the perfumes which the breeze
brings from the tips of ferns for us to inhale as we dream.
Our love is something light.

Our love is something enchanting like the morning's songs
in which regrets are not heard but uncertain hopes vibrate.
Our love is something charming.

Our love is something sacred like the forests' mysteries
in which an unknown soul quivers and silences have voices.
Our love is something sacred!

Our love is something infinite like the paths of the evening,
where the ocean, joined with the sky, falls asleep under slanting suns.
Our love is something eternal like all that has been touched
by the fiery wing of a victorious god, like all that comes from the heart.
Our love is something eternal!

Chanson D’Automne, Jeff Smallman (1965-); text by Paul Verlaine (1844-1896)
The long sighs of violins in autumn bless my heart in a lethargic monotony.
Suffocating and pale, when the hour rings I remember ancient days and I cry.
And I leave to the bad wind which takes me here and there. The same as a dead leaf.

Má píseň zas mi láskou zní, No.1 Antonin Dvořák (1841-1904)
My song resounds, a psalm of love, When day begins to fade,
And when the moss and withered grass Secretly drink in pearls of dew.
My song resounds full of wanderlust In the green of lofty forests,
Only on the puszta’s wide plains Can I sing out happily.
My song is also full of love, As storms rage across the heath;
When the breast of my friend heaves, As he breathes his last!

Aj! Kterak trojhranec můj, No.2 Adolf Heyduk (1835-1923) From Cigánské Melodie (Gypsy Songs) Op. 55
Hey! How my triangle rings out in splendour!
How easy to approach death with such a sound!
One can approach death to the sound of the triangle! No more singing, loving and dancing!

Ici-bas by Gabriel Fauré, (1845-1924); text by René-François Sully-Prudhomme (1839-1907).
Down here all lilacs are dying, all the songs of the birds are short;
I dream of the summers which last forever
Down here lips touch without parting with any of their velvet;
I dream of the kisses which last forever
Down here all men weep for their friendships or their loves;
I dream of the couples who last forever

Mandoline No.1, Op.58 Gabriel Fauré (1845-1924) From Cinq Mélodies de Venise Paul Verlaine (1844-1896)
The gallant serenaders And their fair listeners
Exchange sweet nothings Under the singing boughs
There's Tricis, there's Aminte, And Clitandre is over-long,
And there's Damis for many a cruel made, writes a tender song,
Their short vests, silken and bright, Their long trailing gowns,
Their elegance of joy,And their soft blue shadows,
While madly in the rapture Of a gray and rose moon
And the mandolin jangles on In the shivering breeze

O wär ich schon mit dir vereint, Ludwig Van Beethoven (1770-1827)
Oh if only we were united, and I could call you my man!
A girl may only half confess all that she feels.
But when I no longer need to blush at receiving a warm, passionate kiss when nothing on earth can disturb us - Hope already fills my breast with unspeakable sweet desire;
how happy I will be! In rest, silent domesticity I shall wake every morning.
We greet each other tenderly, the diligent work will banish care.
And when our work is done, the lovely, gentle night sneaks in;
Then we’ll rest from our troubles. Hope already fills my breast with unspeakable sweet desire; how happy I will be!

Movement 1, Quartre Poémes d'apres l'Intermezzo, Joseph Guy-Ropartz (1864-1955); text by Henrich Heine
Tenderly inter-twined, my dear beloved,
we had sat down in a light boat,
and, through the calm evening, we let ourselves drift
over the ripples of a limpid and fragrant water.
The mysterious isle upon which the spirits lived,
vaguely outlined its angular shapes;
beneath the moon floated nebulous dances,
and the solemn sounds of forgotten instruments.
And the ring ever tightened its spiral
and the sounds became ever more suave,
and yet abandoned we were drifting along with
the swell, without hope beneath the light of the stars.

Élégie, Jules Massenet (1842-1912), text Louis Gallet (1835-1898)
O sweet Spring of yesteryear, green seasons, you have fled forever!
I no longer see the blue sky, I no longer hear the joyous songs of the birds!
You have fled, my love, and with you has fled my happiness. And it is in vain that the spring returns!
For along with you, the cheerful sun, the laughing days have gone!
As my heart is dark and frozen, so all is withered forevermore!

Air Romantique from Airs Chantés, no. 1 by Francis Poulenc (1899-1963); text by Jean Moréas (1856-1910)
I walked in the countryside with the stormy wind,
Beneath the pale morning, beneath the low clouds,
A sinister crow followed me on my way
And my steps splashed though the water puddles.
The lightning on the horizon unleashed its flame
And the North Wind intensified its wailing;
But the storm was too weak for my soul
Which drowned the thunder with its throbbing.
From the golden spoils of ash and maple
Autumn amassed her brilliant plunder,
And the crow still, with inexorable flight,
Without changing anything, accompanied me to my fate.

C'era una volta by Pauline Viardot-Garcia (1821-1910), from 5 Canti popolari Toscani
Once upon a time I spoke to you,
Now I am no longer worthy;
Then if along the way, I met you,
I lowered my eyes, and my heart rejoiced.
Now that I'm deprived of love,
I lower my eyes, and I must die,
Now that I'm deprived of my good,
I lower my eyes, and it's better for me to die!
Take a golden knife in your hands,
Wound my soul with your delight!
So you will see if I love you and if I adore you,
So you will see if what I told you is true,
If it is the truth, my dear love,
For one who opens her chest and says goodbye,
If it is the truth, my dear love,
For she who breathes and gives you her heart.

Deh vieni, non tardar from The Marriage of Figaro, K. 492 by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart; Libretto by Lorenzo da Ponte
The moment finally arrives When I'll enjoy without haste In the arms of my beloved…
Fearful anxieties, get out of my heart!
Do not come to disturb my delight.
Oh, how it seems that to amorous fires The comfort of the place, Earth and heaven respond.
As the night responds to my ruses.
Oh, come, don't be late, my beautiful joy
Come where love calls you to enjoyment
Until night's torches no longer shine in the sky
As long as the air is still dark And the world is quiet.
Here the river murmurs and the light plays
That restores the heart with sweet ripples
Here, little flowers laugh and the grass is fresh
Here, everything entices one to love's pleasures.
Come, my dear, among these hidden plants.
Come, come! I want to crown you with roses.

Demain dès L’aube by Justin Lapierre (b. 1998); text by Victor Hugo (1802-1885)

Demain dès L’aube
Tomorrow, at dawn, at the moment when the land whitens,
I will leave. You see, I know that you are waiting for me.
I will go through the forest, I will go across mountains.
I cannot stay away from you any longer.

Je marcherai les yeux fixes
I will walk eyes fixed on my thoughts,
Without seeing anything outside, without hearing a noise,
Alone, unknown, back hunched, hands crossed,
Sorrowed, and the day for me will be as the night.

Je ne regarderai ni l’or
I will watch neither the evening gold fall,
Nor the faraway sailboats descending upon Harfleur.
And when I arrive, I will put on your grave
A bouquet of green holly and heather in bloom.

Laue Sommernacht by Alma Mahler (1879-1964); text by Gustav Falke (1853-1916)
Mild summer night: in the sky
Not a star, in the deep forest
We sought each other in the dark
And found one another.
Found one another in the deep wood
In the night, the starless night,
And amazed, we embraced
In the dark night.
Our entire life – was it not
Such a tentative quest?
There: into its darkness,
O Love, fell your light.

Les cavaliers by Pauline Viardot-Garcia (1821-1910); text by Louis Pomey (1831-1901)
My sister, Have you seen, my sister, these two horsemen? Who passed on their black steeds?
Never prince, nor queen's son, Had this sovereign grace; In the fire that shone in their eyes
We thought we saw demigods; Ah! The beautiful ones whom their heart loves, Possess the supreme go
But lay! where are they, these too happy beauties? What enchanted palace shelters their happiness?
See, my sister, again these two horsemen, Who passed on their black steeds;
Never prince, nor queen's son, Had this sovereign grace; But, oh happiness!
Look, my sister! Isn't that a crazy mistake? Both under our window, do I not see them reappearing?
O happiness! I see them reappear, ah!
How beautiful they are, how skilfully they make their black steeds dance!
My sister, it’s to us that the salute of the proud horsemen is addressed, It’s to us, my sister, it is to us!