2008-10-30 Van Lidth [recital program]

              Philip van Lidth de Jeude
tenor
Ināra Zandmane, piano
assisted by:
Wayne Reich, violin
Andrès Milà Prats, conductor
Laura Dawalt, soprano
Melita Étienne, mezzo-soprano
Marshall Rollings, tenor
Michael Thomas, baritone
Ed Clegg, bass-baritone
Tara Sperry, soprano
James Miller, flute
Kelly Austermann, clarinet
Andy Hall, alto saxophone
Leah Plimpton, bassoon
Christian McIvor, trumpet
Paul Palm, trombone
Radha Upton, Christy Wisuthseriwong, Benjamin
Blozan, pianos
Graduate Recital
October, October 30, 2008
5:30 pm
Recital Hall, School of Music
Off the Beaten Track
I. Historical Dutch Songs,
Nederlandtsche Gedenck-Clanck (1626) Adriaen Valerius
1. Al uwe boos’ aenslagen (1568) (ca. 1575-1625)
2. Maximilianus de Bossou (1573) arr. Philip van Lidth de Jeude
3. Stort tranen uyt! Schreydt luyde! (1584) (b. 1952)
4. Waer dat men sich al keerd of wend (1616)
5. Merck toch hoe sterck (1622)
Las Horas de una Estancia (Times of Day on a Farm), Op. 11 (1943) Alberto Ginastera
1. Alba (Dawn) (1916-1983)
2. El Mediodia (Midday)
3. La Tarde (Afternoon)
III. Two Zarzuela Arias
1. “No puede ser” from La Tabernera del Puerto (1936) Pablo Sorozábal
(1897-1988)
2. “Amor vida de mi vida” from Maravilla (1941) Federico Moreno Torroba
(1891-1982)
IV. The Pied Piper Times Two
1. Der Rattenfänger (The Rat-Catcher) Hugo Wolf
(1860-1903)
2. “Wandern, ach Wandern” (Wandering, ah, wandering) Adolf Neuendorff
from Der Rattenfänger von Hameln (1880) (1843-1897)
(The Pied Piper of Hamelin) trans. Philip van Lidth de Jeude
Philip van Lidth de Jeude, tenor
Ināra Zandmane, piano
Intermission
V. There and Back (Hin und Zurück), Op. 45a (1927) Paul Hindemith
Dramatis Personae (in order of appearance): (1895-1963)
Aunt Emma Melita Étienne, mezzo-soprano
Helene Laura Dawalt, soprano
Robert Marshall Rollings, tenor
Maid Tara Sperry, soprano
Doctor Michael Thomas, baritone
A Helpful Neighbor Ed Clegg, bass-baritone
Sage Philip van Lidth de Jeude, tenor
Producer/Stage Director Philip van Lidth de Jeude
Conductor/Music Director Andrès Milà Prats
Stage Manager/Lighting TBA
Translation Philip van Lidth de Jeude
James Miller, flute
Kelly Austermann, clarinet
Andy Hall, alto saxophone
Leah Plimpton, bassoon
Christian McIvor, trumpet
Paul Palm, trombone
Radha Upton, Christy Wisuthseriwong, Benjamin Blozan, pianos
Andrès Milà Prats, synthesizer
VI. Life and Love in New York City Vernon Duke
1. Who’s to Blame? (1951, 2:42) (1903-1969)
2. New York After Dark (1937, 2:48) Transposed and Adapted by
3. Paris in New York (1965, 2:36) Philip van Lidth de Jeude
4. The Loneliest Isle (Date Unknown, 2:34) (b. 1952)
5. Autumn in New York (1934, 2:40)
Philip van Lidth de Jeude, tenor
Ināra Zandmane, piano
VII. Danse Macabre (1872) Camille Saint-Saëns
In honor of Halloween (1835-1921)
Arr. Philip van Lidth de Jeude
(b. 1952)
Philip van Lidth de Jeude, tenor
Wayne Reich, violin
Ināra Zandmane, piano
Philip van Lidth de Jeude is a student of Dr. Robert Bracey
________
In partial fulfillment of the degree requirements for the
Doctor of Musical Arts in Vocal Performance
Program Notes and Translations
This program consists of many pieces that are less often encountered in recitals, affording an
introduction to unfamiliar repertoire and cultures. Among them are songs about the Dutch war for
independence, songs from Argentina, Germany and the U.S. as well as pieces of Spanish and
German music theater. Finally, in homage to Halloween, a new arrangement of Saint-Saëns’
song, Danse Macabre, which inspired the orchestral tone poem, is offered.
Adriaen Valerius (c. 1570-1625) was a notary and eventually became burgomaster of the town
of Veere in the Netherlands when they were still ruled by Philip II of Spain but already in rebellion
(as of 1568). Philip, an extremely devout Catholic, attempted to stamp out Protestantism in his
domains and centralize the government in Spain. His subjects in the Low Countries objected to
the higher taxes to finance Spanish wars and to losing control of their own government to Spanish
appointees, not to mention the religious intolerance.
Valerius, a poet and composer, compiled a collection of songs dealing with the Dutch rebellion,
the Nederlandtsche Gedenck-Clanck (Netherlands Song Memorial), posthumously published in
1631, for which he is best known. The fact that the melodies are published in notation rather than
that the names of popular melodies are named to which the texts are to be sung may indicate that
many of these songs are his own compositions. They are strophic and reflect the strong
Calvinistic tendency in Dutch religious thought as well as the patriotic fervor of a people
determined to achieve the freedom to rule their own fates. They are also somewhat hymn-like,
and perhaps the best known Thanksgiving hymn, We Gather Together, originates from this
collection. The songs are from the same historical period as Shakespeare, and the language in
them has the same relation to modern Dutch as Shakespeare’s English has to the English
spoken today.
These songs helped sustain the Dutch during the Nazi occupation in WWII and are considered
a Dutch national and cultural treasure. (Facts on Adriaen Valerius drawn from the article by
Albert Clement in Grove Music Online, ed. L. Macy [Accessed July 5, 2007])
Adriaen Valerius:
Nederlandtsche Gedenck-Clanck
Text by Adriaen Valerius (c. 1570-1625)
Al uwe boos’ aenslagen
Al uwe boos’ aenslagen
Verkeerde mens van hert!
Die sullen Godt mishagen,
Want hij se moede wert,
En dat ghij had gegist
Ghij vinden sult gemist.
O Heer! O God der helden
Siet toch dit jammer aen!
En wilt Duc d’Alf vergelden,
Al wat hij heeft gedaen;
Die so veel menschenbloed
Stort met een wreed gemoet.
Aij, keert toch weer, Oranjen!
En biedt ons nu de hant,
Wreeckt, wreeckt ons leet aen Spanjen,
Verlost ons Vaderlant,
Opdat, o lieve! Wij
Gaen mogen los en vrij.
Netherlands Song Memorial
Translations by Justine Doorenbos-Swaving
All your vicious attacks
(Song upon the beheading of the Counts of
Hoorne and Egmont, 1568)
All your vicious onslaughts,
Driving people from home and hearth!
They shall not please God,
For He’s grown weary of them.
And that you think it is right
You shall find that you are mistaken.
Oh, Lord! Oh, God of heroes!
Behold all these miseries!
Punish the Duke of Alba (the Spanish
governor)
For all his evil deeds;
Who has shed so much blood
With a cold and cruel heart.
Oh, come back to us, gracious Orange
(William the Silent, Prince of Orange),
And offer us your helping hand,
Avenge, avenge our suffering on Spain,
Liberate our Fatherland
So that, o dear one! we
can be liberated and free.
Maximilianus de Bossou
Maximilianus de Bossou
Ben ik, een graeff gheheeten.
Duckdalve diend’ick seer ghetrou,
Die heeft mij nu vergheten:
Ik ben gheweest zijnen Admirael
De geusen te dooden principael
Dat had ick mij vermeten.
Maer doen ick quam voor’t Hoorner hop,
Wierd ick anders ghewaeren.
Dat sal mij steken in mijn krop,
Al leefd’ick noch vijftig jaren,
Want geus mij leerde op ’t selve pas:
Wat schoonder geneuchte dat het was,
Op Zuyderzee te vaeren
Och! Daer ick placht een Heer te zijn,
Daer ligh ick nu ghevangen,
Nae Amsterdam op dit termijn
Waer beter mijn verlanghen.
Ghij geus laet mij doch uit dit gaet,
Ick sal U loonen die schoon weldaet
Met moorden en met hanghen.
Stort tranen uyt! Schreydt luyde!
Stort tranen uyt, Schreyt Luyde! Weent en
treurt
Och’t dunct mij, dat mijn herte barst en
scheurt!
O dag! O dag! O doncker droeve dag!
Wat isser al gehuyl en groot geklag!
O Nederlant! U vorst, u prins soo vroom!
Die daer de blom was van d’Oranjenboom!
Die door sijn deucht u van het Spaensch
gesoord
Soo heeft beschermt, leyt nu eylaes vermoord.
Ghij, vroome, d’wijl dat dit soo is geschiet,
End’dattet nu kan wesen anders niet:
Vertrout op God, door’s Princen spruyten haest
Sal Spanjen noch verwert staen en verbaest!
Maximilianus de Bossou
(Spanish Admiral captured by rebels, 1573)
Maximilian de Bossou
is my name and I am a count.
I faithfully served the Duke of Alva,
But he has now forgotten me.
Once I was his admiral
Killing heretic rebels was my task.
This I thought my first duty.
But when I came to the bay at Hoorne,
Fate had other plans for me.
What they did to me (They tonsured him like a
monk) will stick in my craw
If I live another fifty years.
One lesson the geuzen (rebels) gave me:
How much more pleasant it would be
To sail the Zuyder Zee (Southern Sea)!
Oh! Once I was a Lord,
Now I suffer in this prison.
In Amsterdam at this moment
Is where I would rather be.
You geusen (rebels), let me out of this hole!
I will richly recompense you for this boon
With murder and hanging.
Let Tears Flow! Cry Loudly!
(On the assassination of William the Silent,
1584)
Let your tears flow, cry out loudly, weep and
wail!
Oh! It seems to me as if my heart is breaking!
Oh day! Oh day! Oh, dark and mournful day!
Everywhere people are wailing and mourning!
Oh, Netherlands, your Prince, your ruler so
faithful!
That was the flower on the tree of Orange!
He, who through his courage against the
Spanish brood
So defended you, alas, now lies murdered!
All ye faithful ones, as this has happened
And that it now cannot be otherwise:
Trust in God, for through the prince’s followers
Spain will still be thrown into confusion and
astonishment!
Waer dat men sich al keerd of wend
(1616)
Waer dat men sich al keerd of wend
End’waer men loopt of staat,
Waer dat men reijst of rotst of rend,
End’waer men henen gaet,
Daer vint men ’t sij ook op wat reě
D’Hollander end’de Zeeuw:
Sij loopen door de woeste zee
Als door het bosch de leeuw
Vereenigd vrij gevochten volck,
Maeckt Spanjen d’oorlog moe,
Sulcx dat hij sijnen vredentolck
Dit land moet senden toe.
Wie soud’ oijt hebben dit gedacht
Dat d’hoogmoet van Papou,
Dat soo een groote trotse macht
So buygsaem worden sou?
O Neěrland so ghij maer en bout
Op God den Heer altijdt,
U pijlen vast gebonden hout
End ’t saem eendrachtig sijt,
So kan u Duijvel, Hel, noch Doot
Niet krencken noch vertreen,
Al waer oock Spanjen noch soo groot,
Ja ’s werelts machten een.
Merck toch hoe sterck (1622)
Merck toch hoe sterck nu in ’t werck sich al
steld,
Die t ‘allen tij soo ons vrijheijt heeft bestreden.
Siet hoe hij slaeft, graeft en draeft met geweld,
Om onse goet en ons bloet en onse steden,
Hoor de Spaensche trommels slaen!
Hoor Maraens (the Spanish) trompetten!
Siet hoe komt hij trecken aen,
Bergen te besetten.
Refrein:
Berg op Zoom hout U vroom,
Stut de Spaensche scharen;
Laet ‘s lands boom end’sijn stroom
Trouwelijck toch bewaren!
Wherever one turns or wends his way
(1616)
Wherever one turns or wends his way
And wherever one walks or stands,
Wherever one travels or runs
Or wherever one wishes to go,
You’ll find, no matter on which coast,
The Hollander and the Zeeuw (Zeelander):
They sail through the stormy seas
As a lion walks through the woods.
United people who have fought themselves
free,
Make the Spaniard weary of war
So that he must send an embassy of peace
to this land.
Who would ever have thought
That the arrogance of Papou (nickname for
Spain),
That such a proud and mighty power
Would become so pliant?
Oh Netherlands, put your trust
In the Lord your God always.
Hold your arrows ready
And remain united as until now.
Then no devil, hell or death
Can harm or crush you,
even if Spain were much greater
than all the world’s united powers.
See How Strongly
(The siege of Bergen op Zoom, 1622)
See how strongly and industriously they work,
Who for so long have taken our freedom.
See how he enslaves, digs and runs with
power
To take our possessions and our blood and our
cities.
Hear the sound of Spanish drums!
Hear their trumpets calling!
See how they arrive
To besiege the town of Bergen.
Refrain:
Berg op Zoom, remain true,
Hold back the Spanish hosts;
Your fatherland’s woods (or borders) and its
river
Faithfully defend.
’t Moedige , bloedige woedige swaerd
Blonck en het klonck, dat de voncken daaruijt
vlogen,
Beving en leving, opgeving der aerd,
Wonder gedonder nu onder was nu boven;
Door al’t mijnen en ’t geschut,
Dat men daaglijcx hoorde,
Menig Spanjaert in sijn hut
In sijn bloet versmoorde.
Refrein
Berg op Zoom hout sich vroom,
‘t stut de Spaansche scharen;
‘t heeft ‘s land’s boom end’sijn stroom
Trouwlijck doen bewaren!
Die van Oranjen quam Spanjen aan boord,
Om uijt het velt als een helt ’t gewelt te keren.
Maar also dra Spinola ’t heeft gehoord,
Trekt hij flox heen op de been met al sijn
heeren
Cordua kruyd spoedig voort,
Sach daer niet te winnen,
Don Velasco liep gestoort:’
’t Vlas was niet te spinnen!
Refrein:
Berg op Zoom hout sich vroom,
‘t stut de Spaansche scharen;
‘t heeft ‘s land’s boom end’sijn stroom
Trouwlijck doen bewaren!
The gallant and bloody and furious sword
Struck and sounded that sparks flew from it.
There was heaving and rumbling of the earth
And wondrous thunder now underneath and
then above.
Through the firing of canons and guns
That was heard daily
Many a Spaniard in his hut
was smothered in his blood.
Refrain:
Berg op Zoom remains true,
It holds back the Spanish hosts;
The fatherland’s woods (or border) and its river
It has faithfully defended.
The army of Orange arrived on the field
To heroically sweep the Spanish enemy away.
As soon as Spinola* heard the news,
He quickly fled with all his men.
Cordua* followed soon behind,
Saw no chance to win.
Don Velasco* walked away angrily:
The bottle could not be spun
(ie. The situation could not be reversed)!
Refrain:
Berg op Zoom remains true,
It holds back the Spanish hosts;
The fatherland’s woods (or border) and its river
It has faithfully defended.
*Spinola was the overall general of the siege,
while both Cordua and Don Velasco were his
subordinate generals.
Alberto Ginastera (1916-1983) is one of the most important Argentinean composers of the 20th
century, whose opera, Rodrigo, was the first production of New York City Opera in its new home
in the New York State Theater in Lincoln Center in 1966. Interestingly enough, this performance
also helped boost the career of the young Placido Domingo. This cycle is from his first sylistic
period from 1934 to 1947, characterized as ‘objective nationalism,’ and the poems are by Silvina
Ocampo. They deal with the various times of day on a typical Argentinean farm or homestead,
and his style references traditional Argentinean folk music, albeit already going beyond traditional
tonal compositional techniques. (Information on Ginastera from the article, "Ginastera, Alberto,"
Schwartz-Kates, Deborah in Grove Music Online, http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com/subscriber/
article/grove/music/11159 [accessed September 18, 2008]).
Alberto Ginastera:
Las horas de una estancia
Text by Silvina Ocampo (1903-1994)
Alba
Tiene un nombre con alas esta estancia,
Parece una isla sola en la distancia.
La yerra dejó manchas de amanpola,
La esquila dejó nubes en el suelo.
Con venturosos cantos en mi cielo,
El patio y el aljibe me a gradecen esta
naciente luz.
Rosadas crecen, como si no crecieran ramas.
Quieta, la madreselva sube en su glorieta,
Y lenta la trenzada mecedora evoca una
pacifica señora.
Soy la lorada espera en las persianas.
Me contemplan sin verme las paisanas
atentas,
Con saludos a pacibles,
Deslumbradas por trenes invisibles,
Con las manos somber andose los ojos
Buscando las lecheras los rastrojos.
El Mediodia
No omito la tormenta venerada,
Tampoco omito la ornitologia,
la botánica tan enumerada.
Hago dormir la agusana da oveja con hilo
negro atado en una oreja,
Abunda en mi la fiel monotonia:
Ocupan lentas horas los modestos diálogos
y las frutas en los cestos,
Las sentenciosas voces en la sombra
y una melancholia que me asombra.
Times of Day on a Farm
Translations by Hugh Ross
Dawn
Only a name with wings befits this homestead,
It seems a lonely island in the distance.
See bright poppy clumps dotted on the prairie,
And cowbells that cast shadows on the
landscape.
While heaven rings with happy songs around,
And the courtyard and the cistern give me
thanks to see the returning light.
Rose bushes shoot forth, almost as if they
stemmed from no branch.
Quiet, the honeysuckle blossoms in her arbor,
And lazily the rocking of the armchair evokes
The tranquil mistriess of the mansion.
I am the glow that gilds the waiting curtains.
Ever watchful, the country women greet me
with unseeing glance and placid salutation,
While they wait for imaginary trains,
Raising their palms to protect their dazzled
eyes,
As they go to milk the cows across the
cornfields.
Midday
I don’t omit the terrifying tempest,
Nor yet the is ornithology omitted,
Nor the so numerous botanic species.
But I can lull the ewes from their alertness
with a black ribbon fastened to their earlobes.
With me a monotony is ever faithful:
The slowly passing hours are filled with
modest colloquies and storing fruit in baskets,
Sententious voices in the shadows
And a melancholy that alarms me.
Oscuras casuarinas y el umbral de las puertas
me temen.
El ritual comienzo de la siesta, suavamente
me espera enamorado y elocuente.
El Tarde
En las largas entradas de eucaliptos,
El coche de caballos y el otoño,
El follaje herrumbrado y algún moño
Que vuela con el viento
Circunscriptos quedarán en la estancia,
Como el sol, como el ámbito azul del parasol
Como el mugido triste del granado.
En horas de la siesta y del pienado,
En la penumbra inmóvil,
Una rosa nocturnamente blanca y temblorosa,
Inventando un pasado que la enciende,
En la cerrada habitación trasciende
Con un zubido musical remoto,
La ancha distancia y el recuerdo ignoto.
La grávida mujer y el mes de enero son mios,
Y las moscas, la osamenta y aquella flor
podrida y macilenta,
Que llevará la hormiga a su hormiguero.
Gloomy cassowary birds and lintels of doors
dismay me.
I invoke the ritual of the siesta:
Softly it awaits me, full of yearning and of
eloquence.
Afternoon
In the broad avenues of eucaluptus,
The coachman and his horses and the
autumn,
And the rust-colored foliage
And the wisp blown away upon the wind
Will stay encompassed in the fold of the
homestead
Like the blue circle of the parasol
Or like the low, sad mooing of the cattle.
Now comes the siesta, now the hair is braided,
Now moveless the penumbra, while a rose,
Tremulous and white as in the dark of night,
Dreams of a past which had once incarnadined
her,
And in the encircling habitation calls forth a
distant but melodious hum,
Transcending both the far expanse and the
vanished recollection.
The pregnant woman and the hot months
are mine,
And the insects, that restlessness,
And the flower all moldering and putrid,
Which ants drag off as fodder for their ant hill.
The zarzuela is a particularly Spanish form of music theater very akin to operetta, with both
sung and spoken dialogue as well as songs. It has had many kinds of forms, some of them
resembling the ballad operas of England, such as the Beggars’ Opera, even containing popular
songs and having a burlesque air about them. First given at the Palacio Real de la Zarzuela, a
royal hunting lodge, for the entertainment of the king and his guests, it became a favorite court
entertainment. As the Hapsburg kings were replaced by the Bourbons, the zarzuela fell out of
favor at court and moved to the public theaters, where it continued to develop. But eventually, the
zarzuela was displaced by Italian opera, following the taste of the Bourbon court, practically
disappearing from the public theaters.
It wasn’t until around 1850 that the zarzuela started making a comeback, first being composed
along the lines of French opera comique, then falling under the influence of French opera buffa,
such as Offenbach’s operettas. The last great flowering of the zarzuela occurred during the early
part of the twentieth century under the influence of the Viennese operetta and also tried
incorporating popular dances such as the tango and foxtrot. But after the Spanish civil war of the
1930s, the genre went into decline, and as composers such as Granados, de Falla and Albéniz
died, it attracted fewer composers of standing. However, of those left, Pablo Sorozábal and
Federico Moreno Torroba stand out, and they are represented in this program. (Information on
the zarzuela drawn from the article, “Zarzuela” by Stein, Louise K. and Roger Ailer, Grove Music
Online. Oxford Music Online, http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com/subscriber/article/grove/music/
40742 [accessed September 18, 2008])
Pablo Sorozábal:
“No puede ser” from La Tabernera del
Puerto
Text by F. Romero & G. Fernandez Shaw
No puede ser! Esa mujer es buena.
No puede ser una mujer malvada!
En su mirar como una luz singular
He visto que esa mujer
Es una desventurada.
No puede ser una vulgar sirena
Que envenenó las horas de mi vida.
No puede ser! porque la ví rezar,
Porque la ví querer,
Porque la ví llorar.
Los ojos que lloran no saben mentir;
Las malas mujeres no miran así.
Temblando en sus ojos dos lágrimas ví
Y a mi me ilusiona que tiemblen por mí.
Viva luz de mi illusión,
Sé piadosa con mi amor,
Porque no sé finger,
Porque no sé callar,
Porque no sé vivir.
Federico Moreno Torroba:
“Amor, vida de mi vida” from Maravilla
Text by A. Quintero & J.M. Arozamena
Adiós dijiste; se va mi vida.
Llorar quisiste por un amor que hay que
olvidar.
Te vas riendo y yo me muero!
Mi dolor es saber que no puedes llorar.
Amor, vida de mi vida, qué triste es decirse
adiós!
Te llevas la juventud de éste querer sin
redención,
Amor que por el camino no puedes volver
atrás.
Te ríes cuando sientes deseos de llorar.
Y pensar que te amé con alma vida,
Y hoy te quieres burlar de mi dolor.
Este amor que soñé no lo puedo callar.
Fueron falsas palabras,
Mentiste mil veces tu amor, mujer.
Amor, vida de mi vida, qué triste es decirse
adiós!
Te llevas la juventud de éste querer sin
redención,
“It cannot be” from The Tavern Keeper of
the Port
Translation by Christopher Webber
It cannot be so! This woman is good.
She cannot be a bad woman!
In her look, like a strange light,
I’ve seen that this woman is unhappy.
She cannot be a cheap siren
Who has poisoned every moment of my life.
It cannot be so! Because I’ve seen her pray,
Because I’ve seen her love,
Because I’ve seen her cry.
Those eyes that cry don’t know how to lie,
Bad women do no look like that.
Glinting in her eyes I saw two tears,
And my hope is, they glint for me.
Vivid light of my hopes!
Take pity on my love!
Because I cannot pretend,
Because I cannot be silent,
Because I cannot live.
“Love, life of my life” from Maravilla
Translation by Christopher Webber
You said goodbye; so my life has gone.
You wanted to weep for a love that has to be
forgotten.
You go away laughing, and I am dying!
My sadness is to know that you cannot weep.
Love, life of my life, how sad it is to say
goodbye!
You leave our youthful love unredeemed,
A love which your destiny cannot return to you.
You laugh when you feel the wish to cry.
And to think that I loved you heart and soul,
And now you want to mock my grief.
This love that I dreamt of I cannot suppress.
They were false words,
You lied a thousand times in your love,
woman.
Love, life of my life, how sad it is to say
goodbye!
You leave our youthful love unredeemed,
Amor que por el camino no puedes volver
atrás.
Te ríes cuando sientes deseos de llorar.
Adiós, mi bien! Ah, adios!
A love which your destiny cannot return to you.
You laugh when you feel the wish to cry.
Goodby, my love! Ah, goodbye!
The Pied Piper of Hamelin is a story that has fascinated people through the ages, and there
have been many treatments of it. Part of the reason for the fascination may be that the story may
have a basis in fact, as it does seem that there was a mass migration of the town’s “children”
sometime between 1284 and 1376. One of the most likely explanations seems to be that the
city’s younger children who tended not to inherit the family’s homestead were recruited to settle
further east in what is now Poland, Romania, etc. The names of many people in these areas
seem quite similar to names that were prominent in the German city of Hamelin during that
period.
Two treatments of the subject are on the program. One of them is a setting by Hugo Wolf of a
poem by Goethe, who takes a rather ironic view of the story. The other, from an opera by the
German-American composer Adolf Neuendorff, an early conductor of the NY Philharmonic, takes
a contrasting, more sentimental view of the story with an involved romantic subplot.
Hugo Wolf:
Der Rattenfänger
Text by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
(1749-1842)
Ich bin der wohlbekannte Sänger,
Der vielgereister Rattenfänger,
Den diese altberühmte Stadt
Gewiss besonders nötig hat,
Und wären’s Ratten noch so viele,
Und wären Wiesel mit im Spiele,
Von allen säub’r’ ich diesen Ort,
Sie müssen mit einander fort.
Dann ist der gutgelaunte Sänger
Mitunter auch ein Kinderfänger,
Der selbst die wildesten bezwingt,
Wenn er die goldnen Märchen singt.
Und wären Knaben noch so trutzig,
Und wären Mädchen noch so stutzig,
In meinen Saiten grief ich ein,
Sie müssen alle hinterdrein.
Dann ist der vielgewandter Sänger
Gelegentlich ein Mädchenfänger;
In keinem Städtchen langt er an,
Wo er’s nicht mancher angetan.
Und wären Mädchen noch so blöde,
Und wären Weiber noch so spröde,
Doch allen wird so liebebang
Bei Zaubersaiten und Gesang.
The Rat-Catcher
Translation by Philip van Lidth de Jeude
I am the well-known singer,
The well-traveled rat-catcher,
Of whom this long famous city
Most definitely has need.
And no matter how many rats there were
And even if there were weasels involved,
Of all of these I will rid this place,
They must all leave together.
And then the good-natured singer
Is among other things a child-catcher,
Who tames even the wildest child
When he sings the golden fairy tales.
And no matter how defiant the boy,
And no matter how hesitant the maid,
When I pass my hand over my strings,
They must all follow.
And then the versatile singer
Is sometimes a Maiden-catcher;
There isn’t a village he enters
Where he doesn’t charm someone.
And no matter how stupid the maidens,
And no matter how prudish the women,
All of them become so uneasy in love
Through magic strings and song.
Adolf Neuendorff:
“Wandern, ach, Wandern” from Der
Rattenfänger von Hameln
Librettist unknown
Wandern, ach, wandern durch Berg und Thal,
Wandern, ach, wandern all überall.
Weiter nur eilen durch’s ganze Land,
Niemals verweilen, von niemand gekannt!
Nicht Heimat, nicht Liebe ward mir zu Theil,
Nur immer wandern rastlos in Eil.
Ich kenne nicht Sorgen, kenn’ Spiel nur und
Sang,
Grillen am Morgen währen nicht lang!
Ein fahrender Sänger, von niemand gekannt,
Ein Rattenfänger, das ist mein Stand!
Ein fahrender Sänger, von niemand gekannt,
Ein Rattenfänger, das ist mein Stand!
Bald fang’ ich Ratten, bald Mäuse ein,
Dann wieder Mägdlein, lieblich und fein.
Solch’ kleine Spröde, herzig und Zart,
Freudig zu küssen ist meine Art.
Fühlt sie erglühen das Herz ihr so warm
Und will entfliehen aus meinem Arm,
Rufe ich leise: O sei nicht bang,
Hör doch das Flehen, Spiel und Gesang
Des fahrender Sängers, von niemand gekannt,
Des Rattenfängers aus fernem Land!
Des fahrender Sängers, von niemand gekannt,
Des Rattenfängers aus fernem Land!
Und endet mein Streben, endet mein Sein,
Stand ja auf Erden immer allein.
Trotz Kummer und Sorgen war fröhlich mein
Sinn,
Gehe mit Freude die letzte Fahrt hin!
Die Himmelsthüre, die Petrus bewacht,
Wird mir mit Freude sofort aufgemacht!
Wer bist du, Wand’rer, was dein Begehr?
Ei, ruf ich Petrus, wer kommt daher?
Ein fahrender Sänger, von dir doch gekannt,
Ein Rattenfänger aus fernem Land!
Ein fahrender Sänger, von dir doch gekannt,
Ein Rattenfänger aus fernem Land!
“Wandering, ah, wandering” from The Rat-
Catcher of Hamelin
Wandering, ah, wandering over mountain and
hill,
Wandering, ah, wandering over all creation.
Further hurrying through the whole
countryside,
Never staying, known by none!
Neither home nor love have been my lot,
Only forever wandering restlessly in a hurry.
I know no care, I only know playing and
singing,
Crickets in the morning don’t stay long!
A wandering singer, known by none,
A rat-catcher, that is my station in life!
A wandering singer, known by none,
A rat-catcher, that is my station in life!
Quickly I catch rats, then also mice,
Then also maidens, lovely and fine.
Such coy little things, charming and delicate,
To kiss happily is my way.
If she feels my heart beating so passionately
for her
And wishes to escape from my arms,
I will call gently: O don’t be afraid,
Hear the plea, the playing and singing
Of a wandering singer, known by none,
A rat-catcher from a far country!
Of a wandering singer, known by none,
A rat-catcher from a far country!
And should my striving and being end,
I was always alone in the world.
In spite of sorrow and care I was always merry,
I will go gladly on that last journey.
Heaven’s door, guarded by St. Peter,
Will be joyfully and immediately opened for me!
Who are you, wanderer, what is your desire?
Ah, I will call to Peter, who is coming to you?
A wandering singer, who is known to you,
A rat-catcher from a far country!
A wandering singer, who is known to you,
A rat-catcher from a far country!
Paul Hindemith (1895-1963) established himself as a leading composer of the expressionistic
style in the 1920s before moving on to a neo-classical style. Among his expressionistic operas
are Cardillac and Hin und zurück, the latter of which is called a “sketch with music” and was given
its premiere on July 15, 1927, as part of the Donaueschingen Music Festival, which had been
moved to Baden-Baden that year. Hindemith was both a founder and administrator of that
festival.
Hin und zurück was composed for a concert of one-act mini-operas at the festival and is
notable for its structure and story. A man comes home early on his wife’s birthday and learns that
she has a lover. During the resulting quarrel, he shoots her, regrets his impulsive action and
commits suicide. At this point, a representative of a higher power intervenes. Deploring the
course of events, he declares that it doesn’t matter if it should proceed as it has or run in reverse,
and to prove his point, he provides that the story should return to its beginnings.
A parody of operatic conventions at the time, it pokes fun at the kind of display often found in
solo arias, jealousy/quarrel duets, mournful ensembles (the “regret trio”), and impulsive acts (such
as the shooting of the wife and the husband’s suicide). The reversal of the actions takes place
phrase by phrase and is not a strict mirror image of words and musical material, and it is
accompanied by an instrumental ensemble of two pianos, harmonium, woodwinds and brass.
(Information on Paul Hindemith taken from Giselher Schubert. "Hindemith, Paul." In Grove Music
Online. Oxford Music Online, http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com/subscriber/article/grove/music/
13053 [accessed September 18, 2008]. Information on Hin und zurück taken from GEOFFREY
SKELTON: 'Hin und zurück', Grove Music Online [Accessed 07 August 2007]).
Vernon Duke was born Vladimir Dukelsky in Russia in 1903 and studied at the Kiev
Conservatory before fleeing Russia in 1920 with his family and living in Turkey for two years
before moving to Paris. He first visited the U.S. in 1921, where he met George Gershwin (born
Jacob Gershowitz to Jewish Ukranian parents in Brooklyn), who recommended he write popular
music for Broadway and anglicize his name to Vernon Duke. He returned to Paris, where he
composed ballets for Diaghilev, after which he wrote interpolated songs and, eventually, complete
musicals for London before finally returning to the U.S. in 1929. He had a moderately successful
career composing music for Hollywood and Broadway, although he often stood in Gershwin’s
shadow. His greatest Broadway success was Cabin in the Sky in 1940, although most of his
songs were replaced for the movie in 1943. Among his most famous songs are Taking a Chance
on Love (from Cabin in the Sky) and Autumn in New York, but quite a few of his later songs did
not achieve wide publication. He also continued to compose classical art music as Vladimir
Dukelsky, although he didn’t achieve any lasting wide-spread recognition for these compositions,
and his later shows had little success, often closing during tryouts before reaching Broadway. He
died suddenly in 1969 in Santa Monica, CA. The songs on the program all deal with life and love
in New York City, with which Duke had a long-term relationship. (Information on Vernon Duke
drawn from “Vernon Duke,” Nicolas Slonimsky, ed., BAKER'S BIOGRAPHICAL DICTIONARY OF
MUSICIANS-CENTENNIAL EDITION, Gale Group, 2001.)
The Danse Macabre (French), variously known as the Dance with Death or Totentanz
(German), developed in the 1400s as a reaction to the horrors of the 14th century.1 These
included the end of the medieval warm period and the beginning of the little ice age with the
resultant great famine of 1315-1317. The Hundred Years’ War beginning in 1337, and the Black
Death beginning around 1347, the last of which caused the death of fully one third of Europe’s
population in a few short years, also contributed to the omnipresence of death in human thought
and philosophy. Finally, there was the dancing mania that had a first major outbreak in Aachen,
Germany, in 1374, in which people danced uncontrollably until they died from exhaustion, often
continuing to twitch after collapsing. Sufferers were thought to be possessed by the devil.
Starting with short plays that portrayed conversations between Death and those he was about
to carry off, this art form eventually expanded to dance pageants and visual art. They generally
depicted Death leading a group of people from all walks of life, such as a king or an emperor, a
vigorous young man and beautiful maiden, all skeletal. This was to remind people that everyone
was equally vulnerable to death and to exhort them to be spiritually ready for it at all times.2 The
tarot card, Death, in the major arcana has this kind of depiction as well.
Such songs as Schubert’s Death and the Maiden and Ingmar Bergman’s film, The Seventh
Seal, follow in this tradition, as does Saint-Saëns’ setting of the Henri Cazalis poem, the music of
which provided the inspiration for his popular orchestral tone poem.
1,2 "Dance of Death". Catholic Encyclopedia (Accessed 2007.02.20).
Camille Saint-Saëns:
Danse Macabre
Text by Henri Cazalis (1840-1909)
Zig et zig et zig, la mort en cadence
Frappant une tombe avec son talon,
La mort à minuit joue un air de danse,
Zig et zig et zag, sur son violon.
Le vent d'hiver souffle, et la nuit est sombre,
Des gémissements sortent des tilleuls;
Les squelettes blancs vont à travers l'ombre
Courant et sautant sous leurs grands linceuls,
Zig et zig et zig, chacun se trémousse,
On entend claquer les os des danseurs,
Un couple lascif s'assoit sur la mousse
Comme pour goûter d'anciennes douceurs.
Zig et zig et zag, la mort continue
De racler sans fin son aigre instrument.
Un voile est tombé! La danseuse est nue!
Son danseur la serre amoureusement.
La dame est, dit-on, marquise ou baronne,
Et le vert gallant est un pauvre charron.
Horreur! Et voilà qu'elle s'abandonne
Comme si le rustre était un baron!
Zig et zig et zig! Quelle sarabande!
Quels cercles de morts se donnant la main!
Zig et zig et zag, on voit dans la bande
Le roi gambader auprès du vilain!
Mais psit ! tout à coup on quitte la ronde,
On se pousse, on fuit, le coq a chanté
Oh! La belle nuit pour le pauvre monde!
Et vive la mort et l'égalité!
Macabre Dance (Dance of Death)
Translation by Philip van Lidth de Jeude
Zig et zig et zig, Death in rhythm
Striking a tomb with his heel,
Death at midnight plays a dance tune,
Zig et zig et zag, on his violin.
The winter wind blows and the night is dark,
Whistles emanate from the branches;
The white skeletons move toward the shadow,
Running and dancing under their large
shrouds.
Zig et zig et zig, everyone frisks about,
One hears the bones of the dancers clacking,
A lascivious couple sits on a mossy bank
To enjoy ancient delights.
Zig et zig et zag, Death continues
To play endlessly his sour instrument.
A shroud has fallen! The dancer is nude!
Her partner caresses her amorously.
The lady is, they say, a marchioness or
baroness,
And the green gallant is a poor wheelwright.
Horrors! And she gives herself to him
As if the rustic were a baron!
Zig et zig et zig! What a sarabande!
What circles of the dead join hands!
Zig et zig et zag! One sees in the group
The king dancing next to the serf!
But psst! Suddenly all scatter from the round,
They hasten, they flee, the cock has crowed.
Oh! The beautiful night for the poor world!
And long live Death and equality!