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The Contrast Charles Morris (1745-1838) In London I never knew what I'd be at, Enraptured with this, and enchanted by that; I’m wild with the sweets of variety’s plan, And life seems a blessing too happy for man. But the country, Lord help me! Sets all matters right, So calm and composing from morning to night; Oh it settles the spirit when nothing is seen, But an ass on a common, a goose on a green. Young magpies and stock-doves may flirt among trees, And chatter their transports in groves, if they please: But a house is much more to my taste than a tree, And for groves, Oh! A good grove of chimneys for me. In the country, if Cupid should find a man out, The poor tortured victim mopes hopeless about; But in London, thank Heaven! Our peace is secure, Where for one eye to kill, there’s a thousand to cure. I know love’s a devil, too subtle to spy, That shoots through the soul, from the beam of an eye; But in London these devils so quick fly about, That a new devil still drives an old devil out. Rhyme Anonymous, 18th century Gay go up and gay go down, To ring the bells of London Town. Oranges and lemons Say the bells of St. Clement's. Bull's eyes and targets, Say the bells of St. Margaret's. Brickbats and tiles, Say the bells of St. Giles'. Half-pence and farthings, Say the bells of St. Martin's. Pancakes and fritter's, Say the bells of St. Peter's. Two sticks and an apple, Say the bells of Whitechapel. Pokers and tongs, Say the bells of St. John's. Kettles and pans, Say the bells of St. Anne's. Old father baldpate, Say the slow bells of Aldgate. You owe me ten shillings, Say the bells of St. Helen's. When will you pay me? Say the bells of Old Bailey. When I grow rich, Say the bells of Shoreditch. Pray when will that be? Say the bells of Stepney. I do not know, Says the great bell of Bow. Gay go up and gay go down, To ring the bells of London Town. Rebecca Swingle-Putland soprano Laura Moore, piano Brent Wissick, violoncello Graduate Recital Tuesday, September 23, 2003 5:30 pm Recital Hall, School of Music Program Akhmatova Songs for soprano and cello Sir John Tavener Данте — Dante (b. 1944) Пушкина И Лсрмонтова — Pushkin and Lermontov Борис Пастегнак — Boris Pasternak Двустишие — Couplet Муэа — The Muse Смерть — Death Brent Wissick, violoncello from Chansons Populaires Benjamin Britten Fileuse (1913-1976) Il est quelqu’un sur terre Voici le printemps qui passe from Nonsense Rhymes of Edward Lear Carel Drofnatzki The Cow and the Coward, Op. 368 (1852-1924) The Aquiline Snub, Op. 375 The Hardy Norse-Woman, Op. 365 Limmerich ohne Worte, Op. 372 The Compleat Virtuoso, Op. 366 A Visit of Elizabeth, Op. 378 Tone Poem, Op. 376 Intermission Three Songs William Walton Daphne (1902-1983) Through gilded trellises Old Sir Faulk A Song for the Lord Mayor’s Table William Walton The Lord Mayor’s Table Glide Gently Wapping Old Stairs Holy Thursday Contrast Rhyme In partial fulfillment of the degree requirements for the Doctor of Musical Arts _____ The hall is equipped with a listening assistance system. Patrons needing such assistance should contact an usher in the lobby. Let all the Nine Muses lay by their abuses, Their railing and drolling on tricks of the Strand To pen us a ditty in praise of the City, Their treasure, and pleasure, their pow'r and command. Glide Gently William Wordsworth (1770-1850) Glide gently, thus for ever, ever glide, O Thames! that other bards may see As lovely visions by thy side As now, fair river! come to me. O glide, fair stream, for ever so, Thy quiet soul on all bestowing, Till all our minds for ever flow As thy deep waters now are flowing. Wapping Old Stairs Anonymous text Your Molly has never been false, she declares, Since last time we parted at Wapping Old Stairs, When I swore that I still would continue the same, And gave you the 'bacco box, marked with your name. When I pass'd a whole fortnight between decks with you, Did I e'er give a kiss, Tom, to one of the crew? To be useful and kind, with my Thomas I stay'd, For his trousers I wash'd, and his grog too I made. Though you threaten'd, last Sunday, to walk in the Mall With Susan from Deptford, and likewise with Sal, In silence I stood your unkindness to hear, And only upbraided my Tom, with a tear. Why should Sal, or should Susan, than me be more priz'd? For the heart that is true, Tom, should ne'er be despis'd; Then be constant and kind, nor your Molly forsake, Still your trousers I'll wash, and your grog too I'll make. Holy Thursday William Blake (1757-1827) 'Twas on a holy Thursday, their innocent faces clean, The children walking two and two, in red and blue and green: Gray-headed beadles walked before, with wands as white as snow, Till into the high dome of St Paul's they like Thames waters flow. O what a multitude they seemed, these flowers of London town! Seated in companies they sit, with radiance all their own. The hum of multitudes was there, but multitudes of lambs, Thousands of little boys and girls raising their innocent hands. Now like a mighty wind they raise to heaven the voice of song, Or like harmonious thunderings the seats of heaven among: Beneath them sit the aged men, wise guardians of the poor. Then cherish, cherish pity, lest you drive an angel from your door. Old Sir Faulk Old Sir Faulk, tall as a stork, Before the honeyed fruits of dawn were ripe, Would walk, and stalk with a gun the reynard-coloured sun, Among the pheasant-feathered corn The unicorn has torn, Forlorn the smock-faced sheep sit and sleep; Periwigged as William and Mary, weep... "Sally, Mary, Mattie, what's the matter, why cry?" The huntsman and the reynard- coloured sun and I sigh; "Oh, the nursery-maid Meg With a leg like a peg chased the feathered dreams like hens, And when they laid an egg in the sheepskin meadows where The serene King James would steer horse and hounds, Then he from the shade of a tree Picked it up as spoil to boil for nursery tea", said the mourners. In the corn, towers strain, feathered tall as a crane, And whistling down the feathered rain, old Noah goes again — An old dull mome with a head like a pome, Seeing the world as a bare egg, laid by the feathered air: Meg would beg three of these For the nursery teas of Japhet, Shem and Ham, She gave it underneath the trees, Where the boiling water, hissed, Like the goose-king's feathered daughter - kissed, Pot and pan and copper kettle put upon their proper mettle, Lest the Flood – the Flood – The Flood begin again through these! William Walton: A Song for the Lord Mayor’s Table This cycle was commissioned for the first City of London Music Festival in 1962 to herald and honor the capitol. Ironically, a German was the soprano, Elizabeth Schwarzkopf, accompanied by Gerald Moore. These six songs were later orchestrated for Janet Baker, but it is evident that Walton already had an orchestral concept when conceiving this cycle. The poetry was selected by Christopher Hassall, a long-time friend and poet, and each poem is typically English, representing different facets of English life and history: from the opening adulation of life in London to the children’s nursery rhyme in the closer. The Lord Mayor’s Table Thomas Jordan (1612-1685), written for the Lord Mayor of 1674 Let all the Nine Muses lay by their abuses, Their railing and drolling on tricks of the Strand, To pen us a ditty in praise of the City, Their treasure, and pleasure, their pow'r and command. Their feast, and guest, so temptingly drest, Their kitchens all kingdoms replenish; In bountiful bowls they do succour their souls, With claret, Canary and Rhenish: Their lives and wives in plenitude thrives, They want not for meat nor money; The Promised Land's in a Londoner's hand, They wallow in milk and honey. John Tavener: Akhmatova Songs Anna Akhmatova (1889-1996) is considered one of Russia’s principle female poets. Her earlier manner, intimate and colloquial, gradually gave way to a more classical severity. Her principal motif is love, mainly frustrated and tragic love, expressed with an intensely feminine accent and inflection entirely her own. Tavener’s approach to the poetry is sparse and daring, but demanding on the musicians. He states: “In my settings for soprano and cello I have tried to reflect the deceptive simplicity of the verse, which stems from the classical tradition. Dante, 1936 And even after death he did not return to Florence, His of old, in going, he gave no backward glance, To him I sing this song… From hell he sent his curses upon her, And in heaven he could not forget her… Pushkin and Lermontov, 1927 Here began Pushkin’s exile and Lermontov’s exile ended. Here gentle scent of mountain grasses, And only once I managed to see beside the lake, In a tree’s thickest shade In that cruel hour before the evening - The blaze of his eyes unquenched, The deathless lover of Tamara. Boris Pasternak, 1936 Endowed with some eternal childhood, He shone open-handed, clean of sight, The whole earth was his heritage And he shared this with all. Couplet, 1931 For me praise from others – as ashes, But from you even blame – is praise. The Muse, 1924 At night, as I await her coming, Life seems to hang upon a thread, And what are honour, youth, or freedom Before the kindly guest with pipe in hand? Here – she has come. Flung off her veil, And searchingly has looked on me. I say to her: “Did you dictate to Dante The script of Hell?” She answers: “I”. Death, 1942 I I was on the border of something Which has no certain name… A drowsy summons, A slipping away from myself… II Already I stand at the threshold to something, The lot of all, but at a varying price… On this ship, there is a cabin for me And wind in the sails – and the dread moment Of the parting with my native land. Benjamin Britten: Chansons populaires These gems are often overshadowed by larger works such as On this Island and Seven Sonnets of Michelangelo. Although the vocal melodies and texts are French folk songs, the piano accompaniment is distinctly Britten. The vocal line is basically strophic, but the accompaniment is through-composed, evolving and changing, often abandoning any strong harmonic equilibrium. Translated by Elizabeth Swingle-Gage. Fileuse Lorsque j’étais jeunette, Je gardais les moutons. Tirouli, tiroula, tirouli, tiroulou Tirouli, tiroula, tirouli, rouli, roule. N’étais jamais seulette À songer par les monts. Tirouli, . . . Mais d’autres bergerettes Avec moi devisaient. Tirouli, . . . Parfois de sa musette Un berger nous charmait. Tirouli, . . . Il nous faisait des rondes, Joli rondes d’amour. Tirouli, . . . Mais me voilà vieille, Reste seule toujours. Tirouli, . . . When I was a young girl, I tended the sheep. Tirouli, tiroula, tirouli, tiroulou Tirouli, tiroula, tirouli, rouli, roule. I was never alone While daydreaming by the mountains. Tirouli, . . . And other shepherdesses With me would converse. Tirouli, . . . Sometimes from his musette A shepherd would regale us Tirouli, . . . He would play rounds for us, Pretty rounds of love. Tirouli, . . . But now I am old, And am always alone. Tirouli, . . . Il est quelqu’un sur terre Il est quelqu’un sur terre, Va, mon rouet! Docile, tourne, va ton train, Et dis, tout bas, ton doux refrain. Il est quelqu’un sur terre, Vers qui mes rêves vont. Il est dans la valée, Va, mon rouet! Docile, tourne, va ton train, Et dis, tout bas, ton doux refrain. Il est dans la valée. Un moulin près du point. L’amour y moud’ sa graine, Va, mon rouet! Docile, tourne, va ton train, Et dis, tout bas, ton doux refrain. L’amour y moud’ sa graine, Tant que le jour est long. There is someone in this world, Spin little wheel! Gently, turn, on your way, And softly whisper your refrain. There is someone in this world, Towards whom my dreams wander. It lies in the valley, Spin little wheel! Gently, turn, on your way, And softly whisper your refrain. It lies in the valley. A windmill near the point. Love grinds the grain there, Spin little wheel! Gently, turn, on your way, And softly whisper your refrain. Love grinds the grain there, As long as the day is long. Daphne When green as a river was the barley, Green as a river the rye, I waded deep and began to parley With a youth whom I heard sigh. 'I seek', said he, 'a lovely lady, A nymph as bright as a queen, Like a tree that drips with pearls Her shady locks of hair were seen; And all the rivers became her flocks Though their wool you cannot shear, Because of the love of her flowing locks, The kingly sun like a swain came strong, Unheeding of her scorn, Wading in deeps where she has lain, Sleeping upon her river lawn And chasing her starry satyr train. She fled, and changed into a tree, That lovely fair-haired lady... And now I seek through the sere summer Where no trees are shady!' Through gilded trellises Through gilded trellises of the heat, Dolores, Inez, Manuccia, Isabel, Lucia, Mock time that flies. "Lovely bird, will you stay and sing, Flirting your sheenèd wing,- Peck with your beak, and cling to our balconies?" They flirt their fans, flaunting - "O silence enchanting as music!" Then slanting their eyes, like gilded or emerald grapes, They make mantillas, capes, hiding their simian shapes. Sighs each lady, “Our spadille is done... Dance the quadrille from Hell's towers to Seville; Surprise their siesta”, Dolores said. Through gilded trellises of the heat, Spangles pelt down through the tangles of bell-flowers; Each dangles her castanets, Shutters fall while the heat mutters, With sounds like a mandoline Or tinkled tambourine... Ladies, Time dies! The Cow and the Coward (An Obiter Dictum), Op. 368 This song honors Beethoven, where both the Pastoral Symphony and Fidelio are referenced. The Aquiline Snub, Op. 375 As a footnote to the score, the homage is clearly stated: “The owner of the nose (obviously a long one, though not too long) was a remarkable man. The musical style was that of a remarkable man; the remarkable man had a long nose; ergo the remarkable man must be Johannes Sebastian Bach.” The Hardy Norse-Woman, Op. 365 Comically marked, 'Allegro griegoso’, this song mimics Peer Gynt. But the poetic reference is supposedly taken from an incident at the premiere of one of Ibsen’s plays where a woman was suffocated due to the front place she acquired in the gallery queue. Limmerich ohne Worte, Op. 372 Stanford supplies this song as a specimen pattern or model, to which any poem of the Limerick type may be sung. It is also indebted to Mendelssohn. The Compleat Virtuoso, Op. 366 Dedicated to his friends the great violinists of Europe, Stanford ‘plagiarizes’ the violin concertos of Mendelssohn, Beethoven and Bruch. He even goes so far as to state that the composer is Max van Beetelssohn. A Visit of Elizabeth, Op. 378 An homage to Wagner, Stanford seems to have mixed a few operas together: Tristannhäuser . The Elizabeth in this song is allegedly the villain, and is of ill-repute for she defiles society and goes off to Ostend to … Tone Poem, Op. 376 This song honors the great composers of Russia. The vocal line however, “suggests the pathetic vocal efforts of some of the compatriot prima-donnas, with whom he had professional dealings during his career. Whether original or not, we cannot but admire the final gasps of the over-strained and over-worked singer, as she sinks from the high C to the floor.” _____ William Walton: Three Songs from Façade Edith Sitwell (1887-1964) These three songs were drawn in 1932 from a 1923 group from Façade. The three songs do not follow a typical song set convention, but they all reflect the whimsical, lyric poetry of Sitwell. Walton was ‘adopted’ by the Sitwells at Oxford where he was the schoolmate of Sacheverell, Edith’s brother. Thanks to the Sitwells, Walton was financially and emotionally supported to pursue a career in music. He was one of the premiere English composers until shortly after WWII, when Britten gained prominence. Walton wrote these songs relatively early in his career, but they are rhythmically and harmonically very progressive. La nuit vers les étoiles, Va, mon rouet! Docile, tourne, va ton train, Et dis, tout bas, ton doux refrain. La nuit vers les étoiles, Soupire sa chanson. La rou’ s’y est brisée, Va, mon rouet! Docile, tourne, va ton train, Et dis, tout bas, ton doux refrain. La rou’ s’y est brisée, Finie est la chanson. The night to the stars, Spin little wheel! Gently, turn, on your way, And softly whisper your refrain. The night to the stars, Sighs its song. The wheel broke there, Spin little wheel! Gently, turn, on your way, And softly whisper your refrain. The wheel broke there, Finished is this song. Voici le printemps qui passe Voici le printemps qui passe; “Bonjour, tisserand bonjour! Ami, cède moi ta place, J’en ai besoin pour un jour. C’est moi qui fait la toilette Des bois, des prés et des fleurs. Donne vite ta navette Tu sais qu’on m’attend ailleurs.” Voici le printemps qui passe; “Bonjour, mon peintre, bonjour! Ta main s’obstine et se lasse, A faire un semblant du jour. Donne vite ta palette, Ta palette et ton pinceau. Tu vas voir le ciel en fête Rajeunir dans mon tableau.” Voici le printemps qui passe; “Bonjour, fillettes, bonjour! Donnez vos fuseaux de grâce, Que je travaille à mon tour. J’ai promis sous les charmilles Ma laine aux nids d’alentour. Je vous dirai jeunes filles, Où se niche aussi l’amour.” Here comes the spring passing by; “Good day, Weaver, good day! Friend, lend me your chair, I need it for a day. I am the one who cleans The woods, the fields and the flowers. Give me your shuttle quickly For you know I am expected elsewhere.” Here comes the spring passing by; “Good day, Painter, good day! Your hand labours and tires, In making a likeness of the day. Hand me your palette quickly, Your palette and your brush. You will see the rejoicing sky Become brighter in my painting.” Here comes the spring passing by; “Good day, young ladies, good day! Hand me your spindles, I implore you, So that I in turn may work. Under the arbors, I promised My wool to the nests near by. I will tell you young ladies, Where love also nestles.” _____ Carel Drofnatzki: Nonsense Rhymes Edward Lear (1812-1888) These songs by Charles Villiers Stanford (he used the pseudonym Carel Drofnatzki as a joke), were initially party tricks. He would play at the piano and sing them to amuse his friends (a side of him that was rarely seen by most people who knew him as quarrelsome and formidable). Stanford did in fact commit the ‘Limericks’ to manuscript as we see them today, replete with bogus opus numbers. Stanford mimicked contemporary and classical composers in his accompaniments. The Cow and the Coward (An Obiter Dictum), Op. 368 This song honors Beethoven, where both the Pastoral Symphony and Fidelio are referenced. The Aquiline Snub, Op. 375 As a footnote to the score, the homage is clearly stated: “The owner of the nose (obviously a long one, though not too long) was a remarkable man. The musical style was that of a remarkable man; the remarkable man had a long nose; ergo the remarkable man must be Johannes Sebastian Bach.” The Hardy Norse-Woman, Op. 365 Comically marked, 'Allegro griegoso’, this song mimics Peer Gynt. But the poetic reference is supposedly taken from an incident at the premiere of one of Ibsen’s plays where a woman was suffocated due to the front place she acquired in the gallery queue. Limmerich ohne Worte, Op. 372 Stanford supplies this song as a specimen pattern or model, to which any poem of the Limerick type may be sung. It is also indebted to Mendelssohn. The Compleat Virtuoso, Op. 366 Dedicated to his friends the great violinists of Europe, Stanford ‘plagiarizes’ the violin concertos of Mendelssohn, Beethoven and Bruch. He even goes so far as to state that the composer is Max van Beetelssohn. A Visit of Elizabeth, Op. 378 An homage to Wagner, Stanford seems to have mixed a few operas together: Tristannhäuser . The Elizabeth in this song is allegedly the villain, and is of ill-repute for she defiles society and goes off to Ostend to … Tone Poem, Op. 376 This song honors the great composers of Russia. The vocal line however, “suggests the pathetic vocal efforts of some of the compatriot prima-donnas, with whom he had professional dealings during his career. Whether original or not, we cannot but admire the final gasps of the over-strained and over-worked singer, as she sinks from the high C to the floor.” _____ William Walton: Three Songs from Façade Edith Sitwell (1887-1964) These three songs were drawn in 1932 from a 1923 group from Façade. The three songs do not follow a typical song set convention, but they all reflect the whimsical, lyric poetry of Sitwell. Walton was ‘adopted’ by the Sitwells at Oxford where he was the schoolmate of Sacheverell, Edith’s brother. Thanks to the Sitwells, Walton was financially and emotionally supported to pursue a career in music. He was one of the premiere English composers until shortly after WWII, when Britten gained prominence. Walton wrote these songs relatively early in his career, but they are rhythmically and harmonically very progressive. La nuit vers les étoiles, Va, mon rouet! Docile, tourne, va ton train, Et dis, tout bas, ton doux refrain. La nuit vers les étoiles, Soupire sa chanson. La rou’ s’y est brisée, Va, mon rouet! Docile, tourne, va ton train, Et dis, tout bas, ton doux refrain. La rou’ s’y est brisée, Finie est la chanson. The night to the stars, Spin little wheel! Gently, turn, on your way, And softly whisper your refrain. The night to the stars, Sighs its song. The wheel broke there, Spin little wheel! Gently, turn, on your way, And softly whisper your refrain. The wheel broke there, Finished is this song. Voici le printemps qui passe Voici le printemps qui passe; “Bonjour, tisserand bonjour! Ami, cède moi ta place, J’en ai besoin pour un jour. C’est moi qui fait la toilette Des bois, des prés et des fleurs. Donne vite ta navette Tu sais qu’on m’attend ailleurs.” Voici le printemps qui passe; “Bonjour, mon peintre, bonjour! Ta main s’obstine et se lasse, A faire un semblant du jour. Donne vite ta palette, Ta palette et ton pinceau. Tu vas voir le ciel en fête Rajeunir dans mon tableau.” Voici le printemps qui passe; “Bonjour, fillettes, bonjour! Donnez vos fuseaux de grâce, Que je travaille à mon tour. J’ai promis sous les charmilles Ma laine aux nids d’alentour. Je vous dirai jeunes filles, Où se niche aussi l’amour.” Here comes the spring passing by; “Good day, Weaver, good day! Friend, lend me your chair, I need it for a day. I am the one who cleans The woods, the fields and the flowers. Give me your shuttle quickly For you know I am expected elsewhere.” Here comes the spring passing by; “Good day, Painter, good day! Your hand labours and tires, In making a likeness of the day. Hand me your palette quickly, Your palette and your brush. You will see the rejoicing sky Become brighter in my painting.” Here comes the spring passing by; “Good day, young ladies, good day! Hand me your spindles, I implore you, So that I in turn may work. Under the arbors, I promised My wool to the nests near by. I will tell you young ladies, Where love also nestles.” _____ Carel Drofnatzki: Nonsense Rhymes Edward Lear (1812-1888) These songs by Charles Villiers Stanford (he used the pseudonym Carel Drofnatzki as a joke), were initially party tricks. He would play at the piano and sing them to amuse his friends (a side of him that was rarely seen by most people who knew him as quarrelsome and formidable). Stanford did in fact commit the ‘Limericks’ to manuscript as we see them today, replete with bogus opus numbers. Stanford mimicked contemporary and classical composers in his accompaniments. Rebecca Swingle-Putland soprano Laura Moore, piano Brent Wissick, violoncello Graduate Recital Tuesday, September 23, 2003 5:30 pm Recital Hall, School of Music Program Akhmatova Songs for soprano and cello Sir John Tavener Данте — Dante (b. 1944) Пушкина И Лсрмонтова — Pushkin and Lermontov Борис Пастегнак — Boris Pasternak Двустишие — Couplet Муэа — The Muse Смерть — Death Brent Wissick, violoncello from Chansons Populaires Benjamin Britten Fileuse (1913-1976) Il est quelqu’un sur terre Voici le printemps qui passe from Nonsense Rhymes of Edward Lear Carel Drofnatzki The Cow and the Coward, Op. 368 (1852-1924) The Aquiline Snub, Op. 375 The Hardy Norse-Woman, Op. 365 Limmerich ohne Worte, Op. 372 The Compleat Virtuoso, Op. 366 A Visit of Elizabeth, Op. 378 Tone Poem, Op. 376 Intermission Three Songs William Walton Daphne (1902-1983) Through gilded trellises Old Sir Faulk A Song for the Lord Mayor’s Table William Walton The Lord Mayor’s Table Glide Gently Wapping Old Stairs Holy Thursday Contrast Rhyme In partial fulfillment of the degree requirements for the Doctor of Musical Arts _____ The hall is equipped with a listening assistance system. Patrons needing such assistance should contact an usher in the lobby.
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Title | 2003-09-23 Swingle-Putland Moore Wissick [recital program] |
Date | 2003 |
Creator | University of North Carolina at Greensboro. School of Music, Theatre and Dance |
Subject headings | University of North Carolina at Greensboro. School of Music, Theatre and Dance;University of North Carolina at Greensboro |
Place | Greensboro (N.C.) |
Description | Fall 2003 programs for recitals by students in the UNCG School of Music. |
Type | Text |
Original format | programs |
Original publisher | Greensboro N.C.: The University of North Carolina at Greensboro |
Contributing institution | Martha Blakeney Hodges Special Collections and University Archives, UNCG University Libraries |
Source collection | UA9.2 School of Music Performances -- Programs and Recordings, 1917-2007 |
Series/grouping | 1: Programs |
Finding aid link | https://libapps.uncg.edu/archon/index.php?p=collections/controlcard&id=608 |
Rights statement | http://rightsstatements.org/vocab/NoC-US/1.0/ |
Additional rights information | NO COPYRIGHT - UNITED STATES. This item has been determined to be free of copyright restrictions in the United States. The user is responsible for determining actual copyright status for any reuse of the material. |
Object ID | UA009.002.BD.2003FA.999 |
Digital publisher | The University of North Carolina at Greensboro, University Libraries, PO Box 26170, Greensboro NC 27402-6170, 336.334.5304 |
Full Text | The Contrast Charles Morris (1745-1838) In London I never knew what I'd be at, Enraptured with this, and enchanted by that; I’m wild with the sweets of variety’s plan, And life seems a blessing too happy for man. But the country, Lord help me! Sets all matters right, So calm and composing from morning to night; Oh it settles the spirit when nothing is seen, But an ass on a common, a goose on a green. Young magpies and stock-doves may flirt among trees, And chatter their transports in groves, if they please: But a house is much more to my taste than a tree, And for groves, Oh! A good grove of chimneys for me. In the country, if Cupid should find a man out, The poor tortured victim mopes hopeless about; But in London, thank Heaven! Our peace is secure, Where for one eye to kill, there’s a thousand to cure. I know love’s a devil, too subtle to spy, That shoots through the soul, from the beam of an eye; But in London these devils so quick fly about, That a new devil still drives an old devil out. Rhyme Anonymous, 18th century Gay go up and gay go down, To ring the bells of London Town. Oranges and lemons Say the bells of St. Clement's. Bull's eyes and targets, Say the bells of St. Margaret's. Brickbats and tiles, Say the bells of St. Giles'. Half-pence and farthings, Say the bells of St. Martin's. Pancakes and fritter's, Say the bells of St. Peter's. Two sticks and an apple, Say the bells of Whitechapel. Pokers and tongs, Say the bells of St. John's. Kettles and pans, Say the bells of St. Anne's. Old father baldpate, Say the slow bells of Aldgate. You owe me ten shillings, Say the bells of St. Helen's. When will you pay me? Say the bells of Old Bailey. When I grow rich, Say the bells of Shoreditch. Pray when will that be? Say the bells of Stepney. I do not know, Says the great bell of Bow. Gay go up and gay go down, To ring the bells of London Town. Rebecca Swingle-Putland soprano Laura Moore, piano Brent Wissick, violoncello Graduate Recital Tuesday, September 23, 2003 5:30 pm Recital Hall, School of Music Program Akhmatova Songs for soprano and cello Sir John Tavener Данте — Dante (b. 1944) Пушкина И Лсрмонтова — Pushkin and Lermontov Борис Пастегнак — Boris Pasternak Двустишие — Couplet Муэа — The Muse Смерть — Death Brent Wissick, violoncello from Chansons Populaires Benjamin Britten Fileuse (1913-1976) Il est quelqu’un sur terre Voici le printemps qui passe from Nonsense Rhymes of Edward Lear Carel Drofnatzki The Cow and the Coward, Op. 368 (1852-1924) The Aquiline Snub, Op. 375 The Hardy Norse-Woman, Op. 365 Limmerich ohne Worte, Op. 372 The Compleat Virtuoso, Op. 366 A Visit of Elizabeth, Op. 378 Tone Poem, Op. 376 Intermission Three Songs William Walton Daphne (1902-1983) Through gilded trellises Old Sir Faulk A Song for the Lord Mayor’s Table William Walton The Lord Mayor’s Table Glide Gently Wapping Old Stairs Holy Thursday Contrast Rhyme In partial fulfillment of the degree requirements for the Doctor of Musical Arts _____ The hall is equipped with a listening assistance system. Patrons needing such assistance should contact an usher in the lobby. Let all the Nine Muses lay by their abuses, Their railing and drolling on tricks of the Strand To pen us a ditty in praise of the City, Their treasure, and pleasure, their pow'r and command. Glide Gently William Wordsworth (1770-1850) Glide gently, thus for ever, ever glide, O Thames! that other bards may see As lovely visions by thy side As now, fair river! come to me. O glide, fair stream, for ever so, Thy quiet soul on all bestowing, Till all our minds for ever flow As thy deep waters now are flowing. Wapping Old Stairs Anonymous text Your Molly has never been false, she declares, Since last time we parted at Wapping Old Stairs, When I swore that I still would continue the same, And gave you the 'bacco box, marked with your name. When I pass'd a whole fortnight between decks with you, Did I e'er give a kiss, Tom, to one of the crew? To be useful and kind, with my Thomas I stay'd, For his trousers I wash'd, and his grog too I made. Though you threaten'd, last Sunday, to walk in the Mall With Susan from Deptford, and likewise with Sal, In silence I stood your unkindness to hear, And only upbraided my Tom, with a tear. Why should Sal, or should Susan, than me be more priz'd? For the heart that is true, Tom, should ne'er be despis'd; Then be constant and kind, nor your Molly forsake, Still your trousers I'll wash, and your grog too I'll make. Holy Thursday William Blake (1757-1827) 'Twas on a holy Thursday, their innocent faces clean, The children walking two and two, in red and blue and green: Gray-headed beadles walked before, with wands as white as snow, Till into the high dome of St Paul's they like Thames waters flow. O what a multitude they seemed, these flowers of London town! Seated in companies they sit, with radiance all their own. The hum of multitudes was there, but multitudes of lambs, Thousands of little boys and girls raising their innocent hands. Now like a mighty wind they raise to heaven the voice of song, Or like harmonious thunderings the seats of heaven among: Beneath them sit the aged men, wise guardians of the poor. Then cherish, cherish pity, lest you drive an angel from your door. Old Sir Faulk Old Sir Faulk, tall as a stork, Before the honeyed fruits of dawn were ripe, Would walk, and stalk with a gun the reynard-coloured sun, Among the pheasant-feathered corn The unicorn has torn, Forlorn the smock-faced sheep sit and sleep; Periwigged as William and Mary, weep... "Sally, Mary, Mattie, what's the matter, why cry?" The huntsman and the reynard- coloured sun and I sigh; "Oh, the nursery-maid Meg With a leg like a peg chased the feathered dreams like hens, And when they laid an egg in the sheepskin meadows where The serene King James would steer horse and hounds, Then he from the shade of a tree Picked it up as spoil to boil for nursery tea", said the mourners. In the corn, towers strain, feathered tall as a crane, And whistling down the feathered rain, old Noah goes again — An old dull mome with a head like a pome, Seeing the world as a bare egg, laid by the feathered air: Meg would beg three of these For the nursery teas of Japhet, Shem and Ham, She gave it underneath the trees, Where the boiling water, hissed, Like the goose-king's feathered daughter - kissed, Pot and pan and copper kettle put upon their proper mettle, Lest the Flood – the Flood – The Flood begin again through these! William Walton: A Song for the Lord Mayor’s Table This cycle was commissioned for the first City of London Music Festival in 1962 to herald and honor the capitol. Ironically, a German was the soprano, Elizabeth Schwarzkopf, accompanied by Gerald Moore. These six songs were later orchestrated for Janet Baker, but it is evident that Walton already had an orchestral concept when conceiving this cycle. The poetry was selected by Christopher Hassall, a long-time friend and poet, and each poem is typically English, representing different facets of English life and history: from the opening adulation of life in London to the children’s nursery rhyme in the closer. The Lord Mayor’s Table Thomas Jordan (1612-1685), written for the Lord Mayor of 1674 Let all the Nine Muses lay by their abuses, Their railing and drolling on tricks of the Strand, To pen us a ditty in praise of the City, Their treasure, and pleasure, their pow'r and command. Their feast, and guest, so temptingly drest, Their kitchens all kingdoms replenish; In bountiful bowls they do succour their souls, With claret, Canary and Rhenish: Their lives and wives in plenitude thrives, They want not for meat nor money; The Promised Land's in a Londoner's hand, They wallow in milk and honey. John Tavener: Akhmatova Songs Anna Akhmatova (1889-1996) is considered one of Russia’s principle female poets. Her earlier manner, intimate and colloquial, gradually gave way to a more classical severity. Her principal motif is love, mainly frustrated and tragic love, expressed with an intensely feminine accent and inflection entirely her own. Tavener’s approach to the poetry is sparse and daring, but demanding on the musicians. He states: “In my settings for soprano and cello I have tried to reflect the deceptive simplicity of the verse, which stems from the classical tradition. Dante, 1936 And even after death he did not return to Florence, His of old, in going, he gave no backward glance, To him I sing this song… From hell he sent his curses upon her, And in heaven he could not forget her… Pushkin and Lermontov, 1927 Here began Pushkin’s exile and Lermontov’s exile ended. Here gentle scent of mountain grasses, And only once I managed to see beside the lake, In a tree’s thickest shade In that cruel hour before the evening - The blaze of his eyes unquenched, The deathless lover of Tamara. Boris Pasternak, 1936 Endowed with some eternal childhood, He shone open-handed, clean of sight, The whole earth was his heritage And he shared this with all. Couplet, 1931 For me praise from others – as ashes, But from you even blame – is praise. The Muse, 1924 At night, as I await her coming, Life seems to hang upon a thread, And what are honour, youth, or freedom Before the kindly guest with pipe in hand? Here – she has come. Flung off her veil, And searchingly has looked on me. I say to her: “Did you dictate to Dante The script of Hell?” She answers: “I”. Death, 1942 I I was on the border of something Which has no certain name… A drowsy summons, A slipping away from myself… II Already I stand at the threshold to something, The lot of all, but at a varying price… On this ship, there is a cabin for me And wind in the sails – and the dread moment Of the parting with my native land. Benjamin Britten: Chansons populaires These gems are often overshadowed by larger works such as On this Island and Seven Sonnets of Michelangelo. Although the vocal melodies and texts are French folk songs, the piano accompaniment is distinctly Britten. The vocal line is basically strophic, but the accompaniment is through-composed, evolving and changing, often abandoning any strong harmonic equilibrium. Translated by Elizabeth Swingle-Gage. Fileuse Lorsque j’étais jeunette, Je gardais les moutons. Tirouli, tiroula, tirouli, tiroulou Tirouli, tiroula, tirouli, rouli, roule. N’étais jamais seulette À songer par les monts. Tirouli, . . . Mais d’autres bergerettes Avec moi devisaient. Tirouli, . . . Parfois de sa musette Un berger nous charmait. Tirouli, . . . Il nous faisait des rondes, Joli rondes d’amour. Tirouli, . . . Mais me voilà vieille, Reste seule toujours. Tirouli, . . . When I was a young girl, I tended the sheep. Tirouli, tiroula, tirouli, tiroulou Tirouli, tiroula, tirouli, rouli, roule. I was never alone While daydreaming by the mountains. Tirouli, . . . And other shepherdesses With me would converse. Tirouli, . . . Sometimes from his musette A shepherd would regale us Tirouli, . . . He would play rounds for us, Pretty rounds of love. Tirouli, . . . But now I am old, And am always alone. Tirouli, . . . Il est quelqu’un sur terre Il est quelqu’un sur terre, Va, mon rouet! Docile, tourne, va ton train, Et dis, tout bas, ton doux refrain. Il est quelqu’un sur terre, Vers qui mes rêves vont. Il est dans la valée, Va, mon rouet! Docile, tourne, va ton train, Et dis, tout bas, ton doux refrain. Il est dans la valée. Un moulin près du point. L’amour y moud’ sa graine, Va, mon rouet! Docile, tourne, va ton train, Et dis, tout bas, ton doux refrain. L’amour y moud’ sa graine, Tant que le jour est long. There is someone in this world, Spin little wheel! Gently, turn, on your way, And softly whisper your refrain. There is someone in this world, Towards whom my dreams wander. It lies in the valley, Spin little wheel! Gently, turn, on your way, And softly whisper your refrain. It lies in the valley. A windmill near the point. Love grinds the grain there, Spin little wheel! Gently, turn, on your way, And softly whisper your refrain. Love grinds the grain there, As long as the day is long. Daphne When green as a river was the barley, Green as a river the rye, I waded deep and began to parley With a youth whom I heard sigh. 'I seek', said he, 'a lovely lady, A nymph as bright as a queen, Like a tree that drips with pearls Her shady locks of hair were seen; And all the rivers became her flocks Though their wool you cannot shear, Because of the love of her flowing locks, The kingly sun like a swain came strong, Unheeding of her scorn, Wading in deeps where she has lain, Sleeping upon her river lawn And chasing her starry satyr train. She fled, and changed into a tree, That lovely fair-haired lady... And now I seek through the sere summer Where no trees are shady!' Through gilded trellises Through gilded trellises of the heat, Dolores, Inez, Manuccia, Isabel, Lucia, Mock time that flies. "Lovely bird, will you stay and sing, Flirting your sheenèd wing,- Peck with your beak, and cling to our balconies?" They flirt their fans, flaunting - "O silence enchanting as music!" Then slanting their eyes, like gilded or emerald grapes, They make mantillas, capes, hiding their simian shapes. Sighs each lady, “Our spadille is done... Dance the quadrille from Hell's towers to Seville; Surprise their siesta”, Dolores said. Through gilded trellises of the heat, Spangles pelt down through the tangles of bell-flowers; Each dangles her castanets, Shutters fall while the heat mutters, With sounds like a mandoline Or tinkled tambourine... Ladies, Time dies! The Cow and the Coward (An Obiter Dictum), Op. 368 This song honors Beethoven, where both the Pastoral Symphony and Fidelio are referenced. The Aquiline Snub, Op. 375 As a footnote to the score, the homage is clearly stated: “The owner of the nose (obviously a long one, though not too long) was a remarkable man. The musical style was that of a remarkable man; the remarkable man had a long nose; ergo the remarkable man must be Johannes Sebastian Bach.” The Hardy Norse-Woman, Op. 365 Comically marked, 'Allegro griegoso’, this song mimics Peer Gynt. But the poetic reference is supposedly taken from an incident at the premiere of one of Ibsen’s plays where a woman was suffocated due to the front place she acquired in the gallery queue. Limmerich ohne Worte, Op. 372 Stanford supplies this song as a specimen pattern or model, to which any poem of the Limerick type may be sung. It is also indebted to Mendelssohn. The Compleat Virtuoso, Op. 366 Dedicated to his friends the great violinists of Europe, Stanford ‘plagiarizes’ the violin concertos of Mendelssohn, Beethoven and Bruch. He even goes so far as to state that the composer is Max van Beetelssohn. A Visit of Elizabeth, Op. 378 An homage to Wagner, Stanford seems to have mixed a few operas together: Tristannhäuser . The Elizabeth in this song is allegedly the villain, and is of ill-repute for she defiles society and goes off to Ostend to … Tone Poem, Op. 376 This song honors the great composers of Russia. The vocal line however, “suggests the pathetic vocal efforts of some of the compatriot prima-donnas, with whom he had professional dealings during his career. Whether original or not, we cannot but admire the final gasps of the over-strained and over-worked singer, as she sinks from the high C to the floor.” _____ William Walton: Three Songs from Façade Edith Sitwell (1887-1964) These three songs were drawn in 1932 from a 1923 group from Façade. The three songs do not follow a typical song set convention, but they all reflect the whimsical, lyric poetry of Sitwell. Walton was ‘adopted’ by the Sitwells at Oxford where he was the schoolmate of Sacheverell, Edith’s brother. Thanks to the Sitwells, Walton was financially and emotionally supported to pursue a career in music. He was one of the premiere English composers until shortly after WWII, when Britten gained prominence. Walton wrote these songs relatively early in his career, but they are rhythmically and harmonically very progressive. La nuit vers les étoiles, Va, mon rouet! Docile, tourne, va ton train, Et dis, tout bas, ton doux refrain. La nuit vers les étoiles, Soupire sa chanson. La rou’ s’y est brisée, Va, mon rouet! Docile, tourne, va ton train, Et dis, tout bas, ton doux refrain. La rou’ s’y est brisée, Finie est la chanson. The night to the stars, Spin little wheel! Gently, turn, on your way, And softly whisper your refrain. The night to the stars, Sighs its song. The wheel broke there, Spin little wheel! Gently, turn, on your way, And softly whisper your refrain. The wheel broke there, Finished is this song. Voici le printemps qui passe Voici le printemps qui passe; “Bonjour, tisserand bonjour! Ami, cède moi ta place, J’en ai besoin pour un jour. C’est moi qui fait la toilette Des bois, des prés et des fleurs. Donne vite ta navette Tu sais qu’on m’attend ailleurs.” Voici le printemps qui passe; “Bonjour, mon peintre, bonjour! Ta main s’obstine et se lasse, A faire un semblant du jour. Donne vite ta palette, Ta palette et ton pinceau. Tu vas voir le ciel en fête Rajeunir dans mon tableau.” Voici le printemps qui passe; “Bonjour, fillettes, bonjour! Donnez vos fuseaux de grâce, Que je travaille à mon tour. J’ai promis sous les charmilles Ma laine aux nids d’alentour. Je vous dirai jeunes filles, Où se niche aussi l’amour.” Here comes the spring passing by; “Good day, Weaver, good day! Friend, lend me your chair, I need it for a day. I am the one who cleans The woods, the fields and the flowers. Give me your shuttle quickly For you know I am expected elsewhere.” Here comes the spring passing by; “Good day, Painter, good day! Your hand labours and tires, In making a likeness of the day. Hand me your palette quickly, Your palette and your brush. You will see the rejoicing sky Become brighter in my painting.” Here comes the spring passing by; “Good day, young ladies, good day! Hand me your spindles, I implore you, So that I in turn may work. Under the arbors, I promised My wool to the nests near by. I will tell you young ladies, Where love also nestles.” _____ Carel Drofnatzki: Nonsense Rhymes Edward Lear (1812-1888) These songs by Charles Villiers Stanford (he used the pseudonym Carel Drofnatzki as a joke), were initially party tricks. He would play at the piano and sing them to amuse his friends (a side of him that was rarely seen by most people who knew him as quarrelsome and formidable). Stanford did in fact commit the ‘Limericks’ to manuscript as we see them today, replete with bogus opus numbers. Stanford mimicked contemporary and classical composers in his accompaniments. The Cow and the Coward (An Obiter Dictum), Op. 368 This song honors Beethoven, where both the Pastoral Symphony and Fidelio are referenced. The Aquiline Snub, Op. 375 As a footnote to the score, the homage is clearly stated: “The owner of the nose (obviously a long one, though not too long) was a remarkable man. The musical style was that of a remarkable man; the remarkable man had a long nose; ergo the remarkable man must be Johannes Sebastian Bach.” The Hardy Norse-Woman, Op. 365 Comically marked, 'Allegro griegoso’, this song mimics Peer Gynt. But the poetic reference is supposedly taken from an incident at the premiere of one of Ibsen’s plays where a woman was suffocated due to the front place she acquired in the gallery queue. Limmerich ohne Worte, Op. 372 Stanford supplies this song as a specimen pattern or model, to which any poem of the Limerick type may be sung. It is also indebted to Mendelssohn. The Compleat Virtuoso, Op. 366 Dedicated to his friends the great violinists of Europe, Stanford ‘plagiarizes’ the violin concertos of Mendelssohn, Beethoven and Bruch. He even goes so far as to state that the composer is Max van Beetelssohn. A Visit of Elizabeth, Op. 378 An homage to Wagner, Stanford seems to have mixed a few operas together: Tristannhäuser . The Elizabeth in this song is allegedly the villain, and is of ill-repute for she defiles society and goes off to Ostend to … Tone Poem, Op. 376 This song honors the great composers of Russia. The vocal line however, “suggests the pathetic vocal efforts of some of the compatriot prima-donnas, with whom he had professional dealings during his career. Whether original or not, we cannot but admire the final gasps of the over-strained and over-worked singer, as she sinks from the high C to the floor.” _____ William Walton: Three Songs from Façade Edith Sitwell (1887-1964) These three songs were drawn in 1932 from a 1923 group from Façade. The three songs do not follow a typical song set convention, but they all reflect the whimsical, lyric poetry of Sitwell. Walton was ‘adopted’ by the Sitwells at Oxford where he was the schoolmate of Sacheverell, Edith’s brother. Thanks to the Sitwells, Walton was financially and emotionally supported to pursue a career in music. He was one of the premiere English composers until shortly after WWII, when Britten gained prominence. Walton wrote these songs relatively early in his career, but they are rhythmically and harmonically very progressive. La nuit vers les étoiles, Va, mon rouet! Docile, tourne, va ton train, Et dis, tout bas, ton doux refrain. La nuit vers les étoiles, Soupire sa chanson. La rou’ s’y est brisée, Va, mon rouet! Docile, tourne, va ton train, Et dis, tout bas, ton doux refrain. La rou’ s’y est brisée, Finie est la chanson. The night to the stars, Spin little wheel! Gently, turn, on your way, And softly whisper your refrain. The night to the stars, Sighs its song. The wheel broke there, Spin little wheel! Gently, turn, on your way, And softly whisper your refrain. The wheel broke there, Finished is this song. Voici le printemps qui passe Voici le printemps qui passe; “Bonjour, tisserand bonjour! Ami, cède moi ta place, J’en ai besoin pour un jour. C’est moi qui fait la toilette Des bois, des prés et des fleurs. Donne vite ta navette Tu sais qu’on m’attend ailleurs.” Voici le printemps qui passe; “Bonjour, mon peintre, bonjour! Ta main s’obstine et se lasse, A faire un semblant du jour. Donne vite ta palette, Ta palette et ton pinceau. Tu vas voir le ciel en fête Rajeunir dans mon tableau.” Voici le printemps qui passe; “Bonjour, fillettes, bonjour! Donnez vos fuseaux de grâce, Que je travaille à mon tour. J’ai promis sous les charmilles Ma laine aux nids d’alentour. Je vous dirai jeunes filles, Où se niche aussi l’amour.” Here comes the spring passing by; “Good day, Weaver, good day! Friend, lend me your chair, I need it for a day. I am the one who cleans The woods, the fields and the flowers. Give me your shuttle quickly For you know I am expected elsewhere.” Here comes the spring passing by; “Good day, Painter, good day! Your hand labours and tires, In making a likeness of the day. Hand me your palette quickly, Your palette and your brush. You will see the rejoicing sky Become brighter in my painting.” Here comes the spring passing by; “Good day, young ladies, good day! Hand me your spindles, I implore you, So that I in turn may work. Under the arbors, I promised My wool to the nests near by. I will tell you young ladies, Where love also nestles.” _____ Carel Drofnatzki: Nonsense Rhymes Edward Lear (1812-1888) These songs by Charles Villiers Stanford (he used the pseudonym Carel Drofnatzki as a joke), were initially party tricks. He would play at the piano and sing them to amuse his friends (a side of him that was rarely seen by most people who knew him as quarrelsome and formidable). Stanford did in fact commit the ‘Limericks’ to manuscript as we see them today, replete with bogus opus numbers. Stanford mimicked contemporary and classical composers in his accompaniments. Rebecca Swingle-Putland soprano Laura Moore, piano Brent Wissick, violoncello Graduate Recital Tuesday, September 23, 2003 5:30 pm Recital Hall, School of Music Program Akhmatova Songs for soprano and cello Sir John Tavener Данте — Dante (b. 1944) Пушкина И Лсрмонтова — Pushkin and Lermontov Борис Пастегнак — Boris Pasternak Двустишие — Couplet Муэа — The Muse Смерть — Death Brent Wissick, violoncello from Chansons Populaires Benjamin Britten Fileuse (1913-1976) Il est quelqu’un sur terre Voici le printemps qui passe from Nonsense Rhymes of Edward Lear Carel Drofnatzki The Cow and the Coward, Op. 368 (1852-1924) The Aquiline Snub, Op. 375 The Hardy Norse-Woman, Op. 365 Limmerich ohne Worte, Op. 372 The Compleat Virtuoso, Op. 366 A Visit of Elizabeth, Op. 378 Tone Poem, Op. 376 Intermission Three Songs William Walton Daphne (1902-1983) Through gilded trellises Old Sir Faulk A Song for the Lord Mayor’s Table William Walton The Lord Mayor’s Table Glide Gently Wapping Old Stairs Holy Thursday Contrast Rhyme In partial fulfillment of the degree requirements for the Doctor of Musical Arts _____ The hall is equipped with a listening assistance system. Patrons needing such assistance should contact an usher in the lobby. |
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