Hope Fairchild Thacker,
mezzo-soprano
Brian Davis, piano & harpsichord
assisted by:
Brian Thacker, alto & tenor sackbut
Heather Fairchild Simmons, flute
Thomas Pappas, oboe d’amore
Gina Pezzoli, cello
Graduate Recital
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
7:30 pm
Recital Hall, School of Music
Program
Qui sedes ad dextram Patris from Mass in B Minor (1733) Johann Sebastian Bach
(1685-1750)
Memoriam from Confitibor Georg Christoph Wagenseil
(1715-1777)
Alme Ingrate, Arie der beata virgine (1705) Joseph I
(1678-1711)
Une flûte invisible Camille Saint-Saëns
(1835-1921)
Mon amante a les vertus de l’eau from Deux Stèles Orientées Jacques Ibert
(1890-1962)
Portrait – Valse Chantée Cécile Chaminade
(1857-1944)
Intermission
The Lost Book of Hawkgirl (2007) Seth Colaner
Hawkgirl after prom (b. 1982)
Hawkgirl takes a vow
Lunch and the origins of Hawkgirl’s self-awareness
Superwonk
At a dark hour of her marriage, Hawkwoman cuts her hand on a broken drinking glass while
washing dishes. Her thoughts turn to Shakespeare.
The members of the Justice League of America play dominoes late into the night.
Four Songs (1994) André Previn
Mercy (b. 1929)
Shelter
The Lacemaker
Stones
In partial fulfillment of the degree requirements for the
Doctor of Musical Arts in Performance
_____
Please silence all electronic and noise-making devices.
The hall is equipped with a listening assistance system.
Patrons needing such assistance should contact an usher in the lobby.
Johann Sebastian Bach:
Mass in B Minor
Text from Traditional Catholic Mass
Qui sedes ad dextram Patris
Qui sedes ad dextram Patris,
miserere nobis!
Georg Christoph Wagenseil:
Confitibor
Text origin unknown
Memoriam
Memoriam fecit
Mirabilium suorum misericors,
Et misserator dominus.
Escam dedit timentibus se.
Joseph I:
Alme Ingrate
Text from Sepulcro
Alme, alme ingrate,
Deh' imparate
Ad amar ed amar bene,
Chi ben amail petto ha forte
d'incontrar sino la morte,
Ne' si stanca in soffrir pene.
Camille Saint-Saëns:
Une flute invisible
Text by Victor Hugo (1802-1885)
Viens une flute invisible
Soupire dans les vergers.
La chanson la plus paisible
Est la chanson des bergers!
Le vent ride sous l’yeuse,
Le somber miroir des eaux.
La chanson la plus joyeuse
Est la chanson des oiseaux.
Que nul soin ne te tourmente,
Aimons-nous, aimons-nous toujours!
La chanson la plus charmante
Est la chanson des amours.
Mass in B Minor
Who sits on the right hand of the Father
Who sits on the right hand of the Father,
have mercy upon us!
Confitibor
Translation by J. Richard Raum
Memorial
He has mercifully made
A memorial to his wonders,
And the Lord has shown mercy
And given sustenance to those that fear Him.
Ungrateful Souls
Translator unknown
Souls, ungrateful souls,
Ah hear me, learn
To love and to love well,
Who loves well is strong enough in heart
Even to face death,
And does not tire to suffer sorrows.
The invisible flute
Translation by G. Barto & E. Lawrence
Come! An invisible flute
Sighs across the orchards. -
The most peaceful song
Is the song of the shepherds.
The wind ripples, under the oak,
The dark mirror of the waters.
The most joyful song
Is the song of the birds.
May no care torment you.
Let us love, let us love forever!
The most charming song
Is the song of lovers.
Jacques Ibert:
Deux Stèles orientées
Text by Victor Segalen (1878-1919)
Mon Amante a les vertus de l’eau
Mon amante a les vertus de l’eau:
Un sourire clair, des gester coulants.
Une vois pure et chantant goute à goute.
Et quand parfois malgré mois de feu passé
dans mon regard,
Elle sait comment on l’attise en frémissant:
Eau jetée sur les charbons rouges,
Mon eau vive. La voici répandue, toute,
Sur la terre!
Elle glisse, elle me fuit…
Et j’ai soif et je cours après elle.
De mes mains je fais une coupe.
De mes deux mains je l’étanche avex ivresse.
Je l’étreins, je la porte à mes lèvres,
Et j’avale une poignée de boue. Ah…
Cécile Chaminade:
Portrait – Valse Chantée
Text by Pierre Reyniel
Son nom m’est doux comme le mile,
Elle est blonde comme un fée,
Ses yeux sont faits d’un coin de ciel;
L’ai-je fue ou l’ai-je rêvée?
Elle semble un lys frêle et doux,
Elle en a la mélancolie
Et la grace; connaissez-vous
Celle-là qui fait ma folie?
Sa voix contient le mile des fleurs,
Elle est irréelle et profonde,
Et je bois toutes les douleurs,
Dans sa voix de sirène blonde.
Son regard me frôle souvent,
Mais dependant elle m’ignore,
Elle passé et mon coeur fervent
Vole sur sa trace et l’adore.
Two Facing Inscriptions
Translation by FrancisTimlin
My lover has the virtues of water
My lover has the virtues of water:
A clear smile and running motions,
A pure voice that trickles when it sings.
And when, at times, I can’t help fire from
blazing in my look,
She knows how to stir it with a shudder:
Some water spilled on the reddened embers.
My running water is now spilled all
over the ground.
It glides and it flees from me…
And I’m thirsty and I run after her.
With my hands I make a cup.
I quench my thirst drunkenly.
I grasp it, I bring it to my lips,
And I swallow a handful of mud.
Portrait
Translation by Mary Dibbern
For me, her name is sweet as honey,
She is blonde like a fairy,
Her eyes are made from a corner of heaven;
Did I see her or dream of her?
She resembles a lily, frail and sweet,
She has its melancholy
And gracefulness; do you know
The one who makes me feel crazy?
Her voice contains the flowers’ honey,
She is unreal and profound,
And I drink in every kind of sadness,
In her blonde siren’s voice.
Often she looks at me,
But however, she ignores me,
She passes by and my fervent heart
Follows her footsteps and adores her.
Seth Colaner
The Lost Book of Hawkgirl
Text by Ryan L. Futrell and P. Kevin Heath
Hawkgirl after prom
They’re out all night, one party then the next. She’s never dance this much before. Not like this –
as if it were the end of something.
Then they drive on out of town in his yellow Barracuda, up the Blue Ridge Parkway, where they
pull off at an overlook to watch the sun come up – hard light on the horizon like men on
horseback.
The race back down the mountain with the top down. The cool dawn air in the their lungs. The
radio off. Not talking. The western slope a long, slow curve of darkness.
They are pushing sixty, seventy.
In the valley they slow to a halt on a low stone bridge, the river below as dull and flat as
hammered tin.
And then it happens, another dawn. Another sun come up, a new beginning. Young light mousing
its way through green trees, through a heavy mist from the river.
“At least that’s something,” he says. “Twice in a day.”
“Trouble to come, I’m sure,” she says. “Like a bird in the house. Bad omen.”
Later, in her mother’s kitchen, she is still wearing the dress she made herself. The house quiet
with a strange anticipation, waiting for a curse.
They eat an entire strawberry-rhubarb pie without speaking. They eat and eat and eat – gorge
themselves until there’s nothing left but crumbs, until their lips are puckered from the dour
rhubarb and glistening with sugar.
Hawkgirl takes a vow
She is running in the gravel on the shoulder of the road. He’s looking down at her from the bus.
She wears a hooded grey sweatshirt, army boots, a backpack she’s filled with books.
Lunch and the origins of Hawkgirl’s self-awareness
In college she works a summer job removing insulation from old, leafy buildings around campus.
She gets used to the heights and the heat – comes to like the good, strong smell the leather
gloves leave on her hands.
She is a deer among bears. She knows what she knows about working with men.
Sometimes asbestos dust drifts into her thermos cup when she reads Dante during lunch break.
On the surface of her coffee, the dust motes glitter like distant metal planets.
“Bottoms up, kid,” the men say when they catch her staring too thoughtfully at her drink or her
book.
“Here’s to the bull that roams in the woods, you know? Hair on your chest. Go on. Break’s almost
up. Close your eyes and down the hatch. It ain’t like nothing’s gonna kill you or something.
Superwonk
Superman on his knees, hands above his head gripping a chrome lat pull bar, pushing air out,
drawing air in. wonder Woman on the red vinyl bench press, knees drawn to her chest, painting
her toe=nails a shiny blue while Atom sits at the foot of the bench, towel around his neck.
Hawkwoman is alone in the corner, climbing ever higher on the Justice League’s old Stairmaster.
“True or False,” Superman says. “ ’Stairway to Heaven’ as the greatest song ever in the flute rock
genre?”
Silence. He does on last, slow rep. stands. Rolls his shoulders.
“Anybody? True? False? Flute rock? The answer is true. Super true.”
Atom stares at Wonder Woman’s nails.
“It’s always true, Kent. Always, true,” he says.
“Check me if you don’t’ believe it then. Wonder Woman? Please?”
She caps her polish, sighs, sticks a finger in the air.
“Ding,” she says. “Superwonk thinks he’s right again.”
“Knows he’s right,” he says. “I meant with the lasso, Di. You knew that. C’mon. Simple request.”
“False,” Hawkwoman thinks to herself. “False by a mile. ‘Spill the Wine.’ Eric Burdon and War.”
She is flasing back to a summer day in 1973. Alone with the Whip in the basement of his parent’s
house. Bottles on the window ledge. Empty Blatz boxes in the corner. Playboy centerfold over his
father’s workbench. Remembers leaning against the couch to read the liner notes. Remembers
Whip stringing tennis racquets. The record player loud. The jazzy little Latin groove the flute lays
down. “Como azul cosa de locos, pero asi es, bueno.”
At a dark hour of her marriage, Hawkwoman cuts her hand on a broken drinking glass while
washing dishes. Her thoughts turn to Shakespeare.
(So how speaks this bloody dishrag? And what does the chicken fat in the drain portend? Or the
coffee grounds wrapped in newspaper? The cherry pits drying on the windowsill? He would leave
you all his walks, his private arbours, his new-planted orchards. Plainly read: this poor Brutus has
had wrong from a counterfeit Portia. And your next big scene? If you had harbored tears until this
unkind cut, prepare to lose an ocean now.)
The members of the Justice League of America play dominoes late into the night
They’re sitting at the picnic table in the fron yard, playing dominoes, pretending to be old men –
unbuttoned linene shirts and crazy hats. One Cuba Libre right after the other, digging in the bone
yard of nostalgia.
She knows they can hear her through the open window pecking away at her mother’s ancient
typewriter. Knows they’re imagining her up there in her thin tee-shirt and flower-print cotton
panties.
Superman wins and stands up on the table, throws down his old straw hat, and dances a jig.
“He’s doing the Jerk, He’s doing the Fly…Papa’s got a brand new bag.”
And they know he’s dancing his way right into the poetry of hers – fresh ink on the new paper
Hawkman bought her for her birthday.
Later she brings them plump ripe grapes in a wicker basket and tells them all to get inside.
Storms on the horizon. They shrug and keep on drinking. Pull their dark socks up around their
calves. Slam those bones down hard. Storms ain’t nothing they ain’t seen before.
André Previn
Four Songs for Soprano, Cello, and Piano
Text by Toni Morrison (b. 1931)
Mercy
I could watch
Heads
Turn from the traveler’s look
The camera’s probe
Bear the purity of their
Shame
Hear mute desolation in syllables
Ancient as
Death.
I could do these things
If
Only if only
I knew that when ilk
Spills
And hearts stop
Underheel
Some small thing gone
Chill
Is right
To warm toward a touch because
Mercy
Lies in wait
Like a shore.
Mercy
Mercy
Mercy
Like a shore.
Shelter
In this soft place
Under your wings
I will find shelter
From ordinary things.
Here are the mountains
I want to scale
Amazon rivers
I’m dying to sail.
Here the eyes of the forest
I can hold in a stare
And smile at the movement
Of Medusa’s green hair.
In this soft place
Under your wings
I will find shelter
From ordinary things
The Lacemaker
I am as you see
What most becomes me:
Miles skipped
Cancelled trips
Masters yet unmet.
Lace alone is loyal, sacred, royal, in control
Of crimes stopped
By patterns of blood bred to best behavior.
As you see I am
What has become of me.
Stones
I don’t need no man
Telling me I ain’t one.
My trigger finger strong
As his on a shot gun.
Buttercake and roses smooth
Stones in my bed.
Handmade quilts cover
Stones in my bed.
I don’t need not man
Telling me I ain’t one.
My backbone ain’t like his
But at least I got one.
High-heeled skippers break
Stones in my bed.
Games played at night trick
Stones in my bed.
Stones in my bed.
Stones.
I don’t need no man telling me.
Program Notes
The Mass in B Minor is considered by many scholars one of the crowning
achievements of J. S. Bach in the Latin polyphonic genre. This particular mass was not originally
conceived as a whole, but composed and compiled over the course of more than two decades. In
fact, the finally assembly of the various movements into a cyclical whole did not occur until 1748-
9. The first performance of the work as a whole did not occur until 1859 in Leipzig.
“Qui sedes ad dextram Patris” is from the supplication portion of the Gloria, written at
the same time as the Kyrie in 1733 as a dedication to the Dresden court. The text is taken from
the Catholic Liturgical Mass.Using mezzo-soprano and oboe d’amore, Bach abandons the more
common da capo aria form for a dance form in 6/8 meter. In addition, Bach also uses the oboe as
more than simply an obligato instrument; it is an equal partner with the voice throughout this
movement, introducing all thematic material before each vocal entrance then continuing in duet
and imitative playing alongside the vocal line.
Georg Christoph Wagenseil was well-known in the mid and late eighteenth century not
only for his virtuosic keyboard abilities, but also for successfully welding aria, recitative,
ensemble, and chorus into a unified tableaux in the operatic genre in a manner that would lead to
Gluck’s reforms. As an Austrian court musician, he was also responsible for many chamber
works, typically designating the harpsichord as the keyboard accompaniment of choice. Such is
the case with the “Memoriam,” taken from Confitibor and written for trombone, voice, and
continuo. Opening with a trombone solo, the vocal entrance echoes the original melody, and the
trombone takes a less prominent role during the sung portions. The middle section features a call
and answer between the voice and trombone, and the final section revives the opening melody. In
short, the piece resembles a da capo aria. “Memoriam” is edited and realized by J. Richard
Raum.
Joseph I was Holy Roman Emperor of the Habsburg dynasty from 1705-1711. From
the ascension to the throne of Maximillian I in 1493 to the death of Emperor Joseph II in 1790,
there was a succession of Habsburg rulers important not only as patrons of music but also as
accomplished performers. Having a talent for music, Joseph I received training as a child and
studied with Johann Jacob Prinner, Alessandro Scarlatti and played the harpsichord, flute and
other instruments. His composition “Alme Ingrate” was composed during his inaugural year 1705.
“Alme Ingrate” is a da capo aria for soprano with an obligato trombone. It is taken from
a Viennese Sepolcro, a staged sacred dramatic work related to the oratorio, which was performed
during Holy Week. The extended solo passages for the trombone are of equal importance to the
voice and can be found throughout the music of the Roman Catholic liturgy in Vienna. It has been
edited by Karl Hinterbichler and realized by Susan Patrick.
Camille Saint-Saëns wrote in nearly every musical genre of the 19th century, including
operas, symphonies, sonatas, chamber music, and concertos. His salon music also survives in
abundance, and “Une flûte invisible” most likely comes from that genre as it was composed in
1885 when salon music was still a popular genre. Beautifully tonal and alternating between flute
and voice, it is a strophic song set to poetry by Victor Hugo. Saint-Saëns was known not for his
innovations, but for his ability to successfully revive historical forms and for his ability to
amalgamate current forms. In fact, Debussy epitomized him as “the musician of tradition.” “Une
flûte invisible” is an example of Saint-Saëns’ conservative and traditional musical language; it
remains in the key of F major throughout, the three verses are practically identical, and the final
coda is also reminiscent of the introduction. The poem, though not remembered historically as
one of Hugo’s greatest works, is a tender expression of love suitable for a salon performance as
well.
A veteran of World Ward I, Winner of the 1919 Prix de Rome, and one of the most
well-known composers of his generation, Jacques Ibert successfully encompassed many musical
genres in his compositional output. He wrote many mélodies in his earlier years as a composer,
and Duex steles orientées is no exception. Written in 1926, Ibert sets two poems by Victor
Segalen. Also set by his contemporaries Roussel and Caplet, Ibert’s settings have a bit more
dramatic flair, as they are set for flute and voice alone and use the flute to highlight the text
presented by the vocalist. “Mon Amante” is ironically humorous, and Ibert successfully uses the
flute to convey passion, love, irony, and humor as the speaker compares his lover to water. The
song is through-composed, as is the poem, with tempi increasing as the speaker’s passion
increases until the poem’s rather sudden and amusing conclusion.
Cécile Chaminade wrote nearly 400 pieces for piano and/or voice, nearly all of which
were published in her lifetime. She was also the first woman to receive France’s coveted Légion
d’Honneur award in 1913, but due to a decline in late Romantic French music and the ongoing
prejudices faced by women composers in her generation, her music faded from the forefront in
the later half of the twentieth century. Her writing has been described as tuneful, accessible,
elegant, having memorable melodies, and containing mild chromaticism. As such, she was often
criticized for writing music that was either too pretty or too masculine. However, much of her
music survives, and several pieces have managed to become mainstays in the modern repertoire
of vocalists and flutists.
Portrait, written for soprano and flute with piano accompaniment, would have been
quite suitable for the salon style that was so popular during Chaminade’s early career. Set in a
lilting waltz style, the poet sings the praises of his unattainable lover, and the flute greatly
embellishes each successive question that he asks. Thus, the further into this modified rondo
styled song one goes, the more competitive the voice and flute become in their coloratura
brilliance.
Seth Colaner is an Ohio native who studied composition with Steven Winteregg, Tom
Dempster, and Mark Engebretson. His works have been featured at the CFAMC “Composers in
Community” conference in Iowa, as well as by the Dayton Philharmonic Orchestra, and various
ensembles in Ohio, Iowa, North Carolina, and Poland. Mr. Colaner’s works include settings for
voice, mixed ensembles, solo instruments, brass quintet, string quartet, electronic media, and
works for the stage, opera, and orchestra. Recent premieres included performances of two one-act
operas at the University or North Carolina Greensboro, He Lost Himself Before He Died, and
He Cried Uncle.
The Lost Book of Hawkgirl is a commission for Hope Fairchild Thacker and Heather
Fairchild Simmons, mezzo-soprano and flute, respectively. Although contemporary in nature, the
piece provides a semblance of both melody and tonality, making it accessible in the
compositional world that can often be more academic that musical. The text is based on a
character from the DC Comic series, which has been told and retold multiple times since the
1930’s. In each re-telling, Hawkgirl is associated with Hawkman and the Justice League of
America, which many in the current generation would know because superheroes like Superman
and Wonder Woman. The texts used in the song cycle were written by Ryan Futrell and Kevin
Heather based on earlier comic stories of Hawkgirl. Each song describes a brief snippet in
Hawkgirl’s difficult and occasionally strange life on Earth. Seeing each piece through the eyes of
a comic book character and imagining them set as pages in a comic book are quite helpful in
making them successful as a song cycle.
André Previn is an American composer, conductor, and pianist. Although born in
Berlin, Previn and his family immigrated to the United States during World War II. Compositional
awards are numerous and include both the Austrian and German Cross of Merit, the Glenn Gould
Prize, several Grammy awards, the Grand Prix du Disque, and he was named Musician of the
Year by Musical America. Previn is currently active as a conductor, classical pianist, jazz pianist,
and composer.
Written for soprano Sylvia McNair, Four Songs for Soprano, Cello, and Piano are set
to four poems by American poet Toni Morrison. Though the poems are unrelated, the trio
ensemble provides an essential connection that ties the work together. Morrison’s writing takes its
roots from her upbring in a small community in Ohio, as well as her parents’ belief in mystical
occurrences. Morrison believes that her upbringing was instrumental in allowing her to write
without prejudice in the direction of the “plantation” or the “Ghetto.”
The UNCG School of Music has been recognized for years as one of the elite
music institutions in the United States. Fully accredited by the National
Association of Schools of Music since 1938, the School offers the only
comprehensive music program from undergraduate through doctoral study in
both performance and music education in North Carolina. From a total
population of approximately 16,000 university students, the UNCG School of
Music serves over 600 music majors with a full-time faculty and staff of more than
sixty. As such, the UNCG School of Music ranks among the largest Schools of
Music in the South.
The UNCG School of Music now occupies a new 26-million-dollar music building,
which is among the finest music facilities in the nation. In fact, the new music
building is the second-largest academic building on the UNCG Campus. A large
music library with state-of-the-art playback, study and research facilities houses
all music reference materials. Greatly expanded classroom, studio, practice
room, and rehearsal hall spaces are key components of the new structure. Two
new recital halls, a large computer lab, a psychoacoustics lab, electronic music
labs, and recording studio space are additional features of the new facility. In
addition, an enclosed multi-level parking deck is adjacent to the new music
building to serve students, faculty and concert patrons.
Living in the artistically thriving Greensboro—Winston-Salem—High Point “Triad”
area, students enjoy regular opportunities to attend and perform in concerts
sponsored by such organizations as the Greensboro Symphony Orchestra, the
Greensboro Opera Company, and the Eastern Music Festival. In addition,
UNCG students interact first-hand with some of the world’s major artists who
frequently schedule informal discussions, open rehearsals, and master classes at
UNCG.
Costs of attending public universities in North Carolina, both for in-state and out-of-
state students, represent a truly exceptional value in higher education.
For information regarding music as a major or minor field of study, please write:
Dr. John J. Deal, Dean
UNCG School of Music
P.O. Box 26170
Greensboro, North Carolina 27402-6170
(336) 334-5789
On the Web: www.uncg.edu/mus/
