Daniel Malloy Crupi
baritone
Kristen Ironside, piano
Graduate Recital
Sunday, April 21, 2013
7:30 pm
Recital Hall, Music Building
Program
from Winterreise, D. 911 Franz Schubert
Gute Nacht (1797-1828)
Der Lindenbaum
Einsamkeit
Der Wegweiser
Das Wirthshaus
Der Leierman
Intermission
King David Herbert Howells
Before Dawn (1892-1983)
Harfenspieler Hugo Wolf
I - Wer sich der Einsamkeit ergibt (1860-1903)
II - An die Türen will ich schleichen
III - Wer nie sein Brot mit Tränen aß
Don Quichotte à Dulcinée Maurice Ravel
Chanson romanesque (1875-1937)
Chanson épique
Chanson à boire
Daniel Crupi is a student of Dr. Robert Wells
________
In partial fulfillment of the degree requirements for the
Master of Music in Performance
On a Quest:
The Journey for Self, God, Acceptance and Love
Program Notes
Quest for Self
Franz Schubert – Selections from Winterreise
Undeniably considered one of the greatest vocal masterworks in musical history,
Franz Schubert’s song cycle Winterreise explores themes of rejection, isolation, death
and most importantly, self-discovery. Set to poetry by the 19th century German lyric
poet Wilhelm Müller, Winterreise was among Schubert’s last completed works before
his death in 1928.
Schubert was a prolific composer of Lied, writing over 600 songs in his short life.
Even so, some of his finest settings exist in this cycle—upon its debut to his circle of
friends, he declared, “These songs please me more than all the rest, and in time they
will please you as well.” On the surface, Winterreise tells the story of a young, rejected
lover who sets out to wander the frozen countryside, though scholars have suggested
an abundance of alternative interpretations.
However it is understood, Winterreise foremost concerns an exploration of the inner
self. “Gute Nacht” finds the young protagonist setting out into the bleak wilderness in
search of new love—as he walks, he passes the linden tree that he used to frequent in
“Der Lindenbaum.” Rejecting its deadly invitation to ‘rest,’ he journeys onward. In
“Einsamkeit,” the wanderer begins to scrutinize his own mental instability,
contrasting his bright, joyous surroundings with the inner turmoil he still feels. This
song marks the halfway point in the 24 song cycle, but it also marks the point at
which his attention shifts from outward resentment to introspection, and from
hopeful longing to resigned acceptance of his fate. In his last moment of sanity, we see
the young man question his impulse to seek the most difficult, lonely road in “Der
Wegweiser.” He ultimately chooses the path from which no one has ever returned,
eventually stumbling upon a cemetery in “Das Wirthshaus.” Mistaking the graveyard
for an inn, he asks for lodging but is refused entry—even death itself will not accept
him. Resigning himself to an endless journey, he continues wandering and encounters
a hurdy-gurdy player in “Der Leiermann.” Although the beggar is freezing and
rejected by society, he decides to join in performing his songs alongside the old man.
Quest for God
Herbert Howells – “King David” & “Before Dawn”
Herbert Howells left a distinct legacy for 20th century English repertoire, especially in
the genre of sacred choral music. Nonetheless, his orchestral and art song
compositions are vibrant, influential works of their own accord, especially the songs
from his collection A Garland for de la Mare (so named for Walter de la Mare, a 20th
century English poet whose work Howells often set).
Republished in A Garland for de la Mare, “King David” holds a special place in
Howell’s vocal repertoire. De la Mare was very fond of it, believing that this was the
most perfect setting of his poetry to date, and expressed the desire that no other
composer ever set the text. Here, we find the great King David consumed by
melancholy, seemingly without cause. Though no man-made music can quell his
grief, he ultimately seeks refuge in the song of the nightingale, whose melody finally
grants him peace. Whether we interpret the nightingale as symbolic for the divine, or
accept the more Romantic view of the nightingale as “Muse” for the artist, it is clear
that King David must surrender himself to a higher power than man to achieve peace.
In “Before Dawn,” we move forward to the New Testament with a description of the
placid morning on the very first Christmas Day. De la Mare takes pains to vividly
illustrate every aspect of the landscape, from the nearby animals and plants to the
burning stars and thick snow. The only moving objects are the three Wise Men as they
travel in search of the Christ-child. In the exuberant climax, the narrator announces
that with the coming of Christ, “Spring” has returned to the world.
Quest for Acceptance
Hugo Wolf - Harfenspieler
The influence of Goethe’s Wilhelm Meister’s Apprenticeship on European culture cannot
be overstated. Scholars consider it the “greatest of German novels” and have
compared its significance to that of the French Revolution itself. The landmark novel
influenced European writing for centuries with its innovative sense of character
development, socio-political commentary, and unique approach to narrative.
The utterly pathetic and tormented character of the Harper is a central figure within
Wilhelm Meister’s Apprenticeship. Upon joining a theatre troupe, the title character
encounters an old harpist who tirelessly plays the most melancholy and affecting of
songs. Although we later discover the twisted and devastating reason for the
Harper’s torment, he remains a fascinating character for analysis even centuries later.
The great Germanic composers have been perpetually drawn to set the Harper’s
songs, with Schubert, Schumann, Wolf and Liszt all crafting settings of the poetry.
Wolf’s settings are particularly evocative and illustrate a very complex Harper,
wracked by guilt and longing for reconciliation and acceptance.
The first song is the most restrained of the set, and Wolf navigates Goethe’s implied
transitions between melody and declamation with great skill. Here, the Harper relates
his acceptance of grief and suffering as inherent with his condition. In the second
song, we see an increasingly unstable Harper—as his madness grows, the music
becomes more erratic. This song is characterized by an almost exclusively syncopated
relationship between the voice and piano, emphasizing the Harper’s disjunction with
the world itself. This teetering on the edge of insanity surely resonated strongly with
Wolf, as his contraction of syphilis nearly guaranteed his own inevitable descent into
madness (which did happen eight years later). The Harper delivers his final song in
solitude while Wilhelm eavesdrops. It is undoubtedly the most emotional; Goethe
indicates the Harper is “often hindered by tears from continuing.” The music merges
the melancholy, falling phrases of the first song with the crazed, creeping movement
of the second, eventually culminating in a violent outburst of rage and guilt at the end
of the song, which quickly diminishes and dissipates into silence.
Quest for Love
Maurice Ravel – Don Quichotte à Dulcinée
Much like the impact of Wilhelm Meister on German literature, the legend of Don
Quixote has captivated artists and audiences for centuries, originating with Miguel de
Cervantes’s 17th century novel The Ingenious Gentleman Don Quixote of La Mancha. Its
impact can be distinctly felt through a number of mediums in the 20th century, not the
least of which is Maurice Ravel’s set of songs Don Quichotte à Dulcinée for baritone and
piano, later orchestrated. The songs were originally commissioned for a film inspired
by Don Quixote—unfortunately, Ravel, who was advanced in age and near death,
was too slow in his compositional process, and Jacques Ibert’s set of songs were
chosen for the film instead. Nevertheless, it is Ravel’s cycle that remains a
masterwork in the baritone repertoire and one of the composer’s favorite pieces; they
also proved to be the final composition before his death in 1933.
“Chanson romanesque” immediately betrays its strong Spanish influence, with
perpetually alternating bars of 6/8 and 3/4 in exotic fashion. It is ultimately a love
song, but one with great humor, as the chivalrous knight promises any number of
fantastical deeds based on Dulcinea’s whims. “Chanson épique” is a prayer that sets
up comparison between Dulcinea and the Virgin Mary. Its chant-like melody,
modality and open chords invoke a cathedral-like sacred setting—ironic, considering
the semi-blasphemous nature of the text. The final song, “Chanson à boire,” provides
a boisterous conclusion for the set, resembling the Spanish ‘jota’ with its 3/4 time
signature and eight syllable vocal phrases.
All of the songs have one theme in common—obsessive love for Dulcinea. From
chivalrous promises to blasphemous worship to drunken rantings, Ravel paints us a
volatile, yet extraordinarily lovable Don Quixote. One cannot help but admire the
sense of adventure found in the knight in love with the pursuit of love.
Franz Schubert
Winterreise
Wilhelm Müller (1794-1827)
Gute Nacht
Fremd bin ich eingezogen,
Fremd zieh ich wieder aus.
Der Mai war mir gewogen
Mit manchen Blumenstrauss.
Das Mädchen sprach von Liebe,
Die Mutter gar von Eh;
Nun ist die Welt so trübe,
Der Weg gehüllt in Schnee
Ich kann zu meiner Reisen
Nicht wählen mit der Zeit,
Muss selbst den Weg mir weisen
In dieser Dunkelheit.
Es ziet ein Mondenschatten
Als mein Gefährte mit,
Und auf den weissen Matten
Such’ ich des Wildes Tritt.
Was soll ich länger weilen,
Dass man mich tribe hinaus?
Lass ire Hunde heulen
Vor ihres Herren Haus.
Die Liebe liebt das Wandern –
Gott hat sie so gemacht –
Von einem zu dem andern.
Fein Liebchen, gute Nacht!
Winter Journey
Good Night
I came here as a stranger,
As a stranger I go.
May was kind towards me,
With many bouquets of flowers.
The maiden spoke of love,
The mother of marriage even;
And now the world is bleak,
The road deep in snow.
I cannot, for my journey,
Choose the time,
But must find my own way
In this darkness.
A shadow in the moonlight
Will keep me company,
And on white meadows
I will search for animal tracks.
Why should I linger any longer?
Why wait to be driven out by men?
Leave errant dogs to howl
At their master’s door.
Love loves to wander –
God has made it so –
Wander from one to another.
My dearest love, good night!
Will dich im Traum nicht stören,
Wär schad um deine Ruh.
Sollst meinen Tritt nicht hören –
Sacht, sacht die Türe zu!
Schreib im Vorübergehen
Ans Tor dir: gute Nacht,
Damit du mögest sehen,
An dich hab ich gedacht.
Der Lindenbaum
Am Brunnen vor dem Tore
Da steht ein Lindenbaum;
Ich träumt’ in seinem Schatten
So manchen süssen Traum.
Ich schnitt in seine Rinde
So manches liebe Wort’
Es zog in Freud und Leide
Zu ihm mich immer fort.
Ich musst’ auch heute wandern
Vorbei in tiefer Nacht,
Da hab ich noch im Dunkel,
Die Augen zugemacht.
Und seine Zweige rauschten,
Als riefen sie mir zu:
‘Komm her zu mir, Geselle,
Hier find’st du deine Ruh!’
Die kalten Winde bliesen
Mir grad ins Angesicht,
Der Hut flog mir vom Kopfe,
Ich wendete mich nicht.
Nun bin ich manche Stunde
Entfernt von jenem Ort,
Und immer hör’ ich’s rauschen:
‘Du fändest Ruhe dort!’
Einsamkeit
Wie eine trübe Wolke
Durch heitre Lüfte geht,
Wenn in der Tannen Wipfel
Ein mattes Lüftchen weht:
So zieh’ ich meine Strasse
Dahin mit trägem Fuss,
Durch helles, frohes Leben
Einsam und ohne Gruss.
Ach, dass die Luft so ruhig!
Ach dass die Welt so licht!
Als noch die Stürme tobten,
War ich so elend nicht.
I will not disturb your dreams,
A shame to spoil your sleep,
You shall not hear my step –
Soft, soft with the door!
I will write, as I go by,
Upon the gate: good night,
So that you may see
That I have thought of you.
The Linden Tree
At the gate, by the fountain,
Stands a linden tree;
I dreamt in its shade
Many a sweet dream.
I carved in its bark
So many loving words;
In joy and sorrow I was drawn
To it again and again.
Today, I must also pass it,
In the dead of night,
And though it was dark
I closed my eyes.
And its boughs rustled,
As if calling to me:
‘Come to me, friend,
Here you shall find your rest!’
The cold wind blew
Full into my face,
My flat flew from my head,
I did not turn.
Now, I am many hours
From that place,
And still I hear it rustle:
‘You would find rest there!’
Loneliness
Like a dark cloud
Across clear skies,
When in the fir top
A feeble breeze stirs:
I go my way,
Slow-footed, through
Bright, joyous life,
Lonely and without greeting.
Oh, the still air!
Oh, the bright world!
While storms raged,
I was not so wretched.
Der Wegweiser
Was vermeid’ ich denn die Wege,
Wo die andern Wandrer gehen,
Suche mir versteckte Stege
Durch verschneite Felsenhöhn?
Habe ja doch nichts begangen,
Dass ich Menschen sollte scheu’n,
Welch ein törichtes Verlangen
Treibt mich in die Wüsteneien?
Weiser stehen auf den Wegen,
Weisen auf die Städte zu,
Und ich wander sonder Massen,
Ohne Ruh’ und suche Ruh’.
Einen Weiser seh’ ich stehen
Unverrückt vor meinem Blick;
Eine Strasse muss ich gehen,
Die noch keiner ging zurück.
Das Wirthshaus
Auf einen Totenacker
Hat mich mein Weg gebracht
Allhier will ich einkehren,
Hab’ ich bei mir gedacht.
Ihr grünen Totenkränze
Könnt wohl die Zeichen sein,
Die müde Wand’rer laden
Ins kühle Wirthshaus ein.
Sind denn in diesem Hause
Die Kammern all besetzt?
Bin matt zum Niedersinken,
Bin tödtlich schwer verletzt.
O umbarmherz’ge Schenke,
Doch weisest du mich ab?
Nun weiter denn, nur weiter,
Mein treuer Wanderstab!
Der Leiermann
Drüben hinter’m Dorfe
Steht ein Leiermann,
Und mit starren Fingern
Dreht er, was er kann.
Barfus auf dem Eise
Wankt er hin und her,
Und sein kleiner Teller
Bleibt ihm immer leer.
Keine mag ihn hören,
Keiner sieht ihn an,
Und die Hunde knurren
The Sign-post
Why do I avoid the ways
That other wanderers tread,
And seek out hidden paths
Through snowy, rocky heights?
I have done nothing wrong
That I should shun men;
What foolish craving
Drives me into desolate places?
On roads stand sign-posts
Pointing to towns,
And I wander on and on
Restlessly and in search of rest.
One sign-post I see standing
Immovable before my gaze;
One road I must tread,
From which no one has returned.
The Inn
To a graveyard
My way has brought me.
Here will I lodge,
I thought to myself.
You green wreaths
Must be the signs
Inviting weary travelers
Into the cool inn.
Are then in this house
The rooms all taken?
I am tired enough to drop,
I am deadly wounded.
Oh, pitiless inn,
Do you turn me away?
Well, on, then on,
My trusty staff!
The Organ Grinder
There, beyond the village
Stands an organ grinder.
And with numb fingers
Plays as best he can.
Barefoot on the ice
He staggers to and fro,
And his little plate
Stays forever empty.
No one cares to listen,
No one looks at him,
And the dogs snarl
Um den alten Mann.
Und er lässt es gehen,
Alles wie es will,
Dreht, und seine Leier
Steht ihm nimmer still.
Wunderlischer Alter,
Soll ich mit dir geh’n?
Willst du meinen Liedern
Diene Leier dreh’n?
Herbert Howells
Walter de la Mare (1873-1956)
King David
King David was a sorrowful man:
No cause for his sorrow had he;
And he called for the music of a hundred
harps,
To ease his melancholy.
They played till they all fell silent:
Played-and play sweet did they;
But the sorrow that haunted the heart of
King David
They could not charm away.
He rose; and in his garden
Walked by the moon alone,
A nightingale hidden in a cypress-tree
Jargoned on and on.
King David lifted his sad eyes
Into the dark-boughed tree-
‘Tell me, thou little bird that singest,
Who taught my grief to thee?'
But the bird in no wise heeded
And the king in the cool of the moon
Hearkened to the nightingale's
sorrowfulness,
Till all his own was gone.
Around the old man.
And he lets it happen,
Everything as it will,
And plays, his hurdy-gurdy
Never still.
Strange old man,
Should I go with you?
Will you, to my songs,
Play your hurdy-gurdy?
Before Dawn
Dim-berried is the mistletoe
With globes of sheenless grey;
The holly 'mid ten thousand thorns
Smoulders its fires away;
And in the manger Jesu sleeps
This Christmas Day.
Bull unto bull with hollow throat
Makes echo every hill,
Cold sheep in pastures thick with snow
The air with bleatings fill;
While of His mother's heart this Babe
Takes His sweet will.
All flowers and butterflies lie hid,
The blackbird and the thrush
Pipe but a little as they flit
Restless from bush to bush;
Even to the robin Gabriel hath
Cried softly, "Hush!"
Now night is astir with burning stars
In darkness of the snow;
Burdened with frankincense and myrrh
And gold the Strangers go
Into a dusk where one dim lamp
Burns faintly, Lo!
No snowdrop yet its small head nods,
In winds of winter drear;
No lark at casement in the sky
Sings matins shrill and clear;
Yet in this frozen mirk the Dawn
Breathes, Spring is here!
Hugo Wolf
Harfenspieler
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1949-1832)
I – Wer sich der Einsamkeit ergibt
Wer sich der Einsamkeit ergibt,
Ach! der ist bald allein;
Ein jeder lebt, ein jeder liebt,
Und läst ihn seiner Pein.
Ja! laßt mich meiner Qual!
Und kann ich nur einmal recht einsam sein,
Dann bin ich nicht allein.
Es schleicht ein Liebender lauschend sacht,
Ob seine Freundin allein?
So überschleicht bei Tag und Nacht
Mich Einsamen die Pein,
Mich Einsamen die Qual.
Ach werd ich erst einmal
Einsam in Grabe sein,
Da läst sie mich allein!
II - An die Türen will ich schleichen
An die Türen will ich schleichen,
Still und sittsam will ich stehn,
Fromme Hand wird Nahrung reichen,
Und ich werde witergehn.
Jeder wird sich glücklich scheinen,
Wenn mein Bild vor ihm erscheint,
Eine Träne wird er weinen,
Und ich weiß nicht, was er weint.
III - Wer nie sein Brot mit Tränen aß
Wer nie sein Brot it Tränen aß,
Wer nie die kummervollen Nächte
Auf seinem Bette weinend saß,
Der kennt euch nicht, ihr himmlischen
Mächte.
Ihr führt ins Leben uns hinein,
Ihr lasst den Armen schuldig werden,
Dann überlasst ihr ihn der Pein
Denn alle schuld rächt sich auf Erden.
Harper’s Songs
I - He Who Surrenders Himself to Solitude
He who surrenders himself to solitude,
Ah, he is soon alone;
Each one lives, each one loves,
And leaves him to his pain.
Yes! Leave me to my torment!
And if I can be once truly alone
Then am I not alone.
There steals a lover listening softly,
Is his beloved alone?
So both day and night does
The pain steal over my solitude,
The torment steal over my loneliness.
Ah, when I am one day
Alone in the grave
Then it will leave me alone!
II - I Will Steal Silently From Door to Door
I will steal silently from door to door:
Quiet and obedient will I stand,
A pious hand will offer me nourishment,
And I will go farther.
Everyone will appear fortunate to himself
When my image appears before him;
A tear will he weep,
But I know not why he weeps.
III – He who has not eaten his bread with tears
He who has not eaten his bread with tears,
He, who never in the sorrow filled nights
Has sat weeping upon his bed,
He knows you not, you heavenly powers.
You lead us into life,
You let the poor man feel guilt,
And then you abandon him to his pain:
For all guilt avenges itself upon earth.
Maurice Ravel
Don Quichotte à Dulcinée
Paul Morand (1888-1976)
Chanson romanesque
Si vous me disiez que la terre
À tant tourner vous offensa,
Je lui dépêcherais Pança:
Vous la verriez fixe et se taire.
Si vous me disiez que l'ennui
Vous vient du ciel trop fleuri d'astres,
Déchirant les divins cadastres,
Je faucherais d'un coup la nuit.
Si vous me disiez que l'espace
Ainsi vidé ne vous plaît point,
Chevalier dieu, la lance au poing.
J'étoilerais le vent qui passe.
Mais si vous disiez que mon sang
Est plus à moi qu'à vous, ma Dame,
Je blêmirais dessous le blâme
Et je mourrais, vous bénissant.
Ô Dulcinée.
Chanson épique
Bon Saint Michel qui me donnez loisir
De voir ma Dame et de l'entendre,
Bon Saint Michel qui me daignez choisir
Pour lui complaire et la défendre,
Bon Saint Michel veuillez descendre
Avec Saint Georges sur l'autel
De la Madone au bleu mantel.
D'un rayon du ciel bénissez ma lame
Et son égale en pureté
Et son égale en piété
Comme en pudeur et chasteté:
Ma Dame,
Ô grands Saint Georges et Saint Michel
L'ange qui veille sur ma veille,
Ma douce Dame si pareille
À Vous, Madone au bleu mantel!
Amen.
Chanson a boire
Foin du bâtard, illustre Dame,
Qui pour me perdre à vos doux yeux
Dit que l'amour et le vin vieux
Mettent en deuill mon coeur, mon âme!
Ah! Je bois à la joie!
La joie est le seul but
Don Quixote to Dulcinea
Romantic Song
If you told me that the world,
With all of its turning, offended you,
I would dispatch Panza
So that you would see it fixed and silent.
If you told me that bored
You were of a sky too flowery with stars,
Destroying the divine order,
I would sweep away the night with a blow.
If you told me that the space
Now empty did not please you,
Knight of God, lance in hand,
I would scatter the stars into the wind
But if you told me that my blood
Is more mine than yours, my lady,
I would blanch at the reproach
And I would die, blessing you.
Oh, Dulcinea.
Epic song
Good St. Michael, who gives me the chance
To see my Lady and to hear her.
Good St. Michael, who deigns to choose me
To please and defend her.
Good St. Michael, will you descend
With St. George to the altar
Of the Madonna of the blue mantel.
With a beam from heaven, bless my sword
And its equal in purity
And its equal in piety
As in modesty and chastity
My Lady,
O Great St. George and St. Michael
The angels who guard my vigil,
My sweet Lady, so much like you
Madonna of the blue mantle.
Amen.
Drinking song
Fig to the bastard, illustrious Lady,
Who, for losing me in your sweet eyes
Tells me that love and old wine
Put my heart and soul in mourning!
Ah! I drink to pleasure!
Pleasure is the only goal
Où je vais droit...
Lorsque j'ai ... lorsque j'ai bu!
Foin du jaloux, brune maîtresse,
Qui geint, qui pleure et fait serment
D'être toujours ce pâle amant
Qui met de l'eau dans son ivresse!
Ah! Je bois à la joie!
La joie est le seul but
Où je vais droit...
Lorsque j'ai ... lorsque j'ai bu!
To which I go straight...
When I have...when I have drunk!
Fig to the jealous, dark-haired mistress,
Who moans, who cries and swears
Always being the pallid lover,
Watering down his intoxication
Ah! I drink to pleasure!
Pleasure is the only goal
To which I go straight...
When I have...when I have drunk!
