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 14,000 university students, the UNCG School of
Music serves nearly 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 26167
Greensboro, North Carolina 27402-6167
(336) 334-5789
On the Web: www.uncg.edu/mus/
Laura Meyers
flute
Carmine Mann, piano
assisted by
Sandra Cotton, mezzo-soprano
Deborah Shields, violoncello
Graduate Recital
Monday, April 5, 2004
7:30 pm
Recital Hall, School of Music
Program
Les Folies d’Espagne (1701) Marin Marais
(1656-1728)
Chansons madécasses (1925-26) Maurice Ravel
Nahandove (1875-1937)
Méfilez-vous des blancs
Il est doux de se coucher
The Great Train Race (1993) Ian Clarke
Intermission
Sonata “Undine” (1882) Carl Reinecke
Allegro (1824-1910)
Intermezzo
Andante tranquillo
Finale
Chant de Linos (1944) André Jolivet
(1905-1974)
In partial fulfillment of the degree requirements for the
Master of Music in Performance
_____
The hall is equipped with a listening assistance system.
Patrons needing such assistance should contact an usher in the lobby.
The Great Train Race by Ian Clarke was written as a showpiece for the flute “as you don’t usually hear
it.” It was inspired by the interesting sound of flute multiphonics, which unlike the rather honking sounds
of multiphonics on oboe, clarinet, and saxophone, resemble a train whistle. Clarke, a flutist himself,
makes use of various extended techniques, including singing and playing, timbral trills, and glissandos,
all of which contribute to the overall effect of a train racing down the track, whistling, and, eventually,
pulling into the station.
Carl Reinecke’s Sonata “Undine” is his most frequently performed work, among which also include
several concertos for flute and many piano compositions. Reinecke was a composer, pianist,
administrator, conductor and teacher, and his students included the daughter of Franz Liszt. He served
as a teacher of counterpoint at Hiller’s conservatory in Cologne and eventually became the director of
the Leipzig Conservatory in 1897. Under his direction, the Conservatory was transformed into one of
the most renowned in Europe. His chamber music contains a Brahmsian quality in its long phrases and
occasional rhythmic complexity, however, his classical training is reflected especially in his piano
writing. The story Undine (1811), by Friedrich Heinrich Carl da la Motte Fouqué, was well known in the
Romantic period. According to the story, Undine, a water spirit, was adopted in infancy by a fisherman
and his wife after their own daughter disappeared into the waters. She runs away from her foster home
and meets the knight Huldbrand, and despite warnings from the powerful spirit Kühleborn, the two
decide to marry. Undine reveals to Huldbrand that she is a spirit, and that she will return to the waters,
or kill Huldbrand, if he betrays her. In the meantime, Berthalda, who is the true daughter of the
fisherman, and Undine become friends. Berthalda has been adopted by the local duke and duchess,
and when Undine publicly announces Berthalda’s origins, Huldbrand goes to Berthalda’s assistance,
and with the intervention of the water spirits, turns against Undine. Undine is drawn back into the
waters, while warning Berthalda to brick up the garden fountain. Huldbrand and Berthalda fall in love,
and become engaged, however, Undine’s voice is heard when the knight remembers her with affection.
During the wedding ceremony, despite Undine’s repeated warning, Berthalda has the fountain
unstopped; Undine appears, and, with a kiss, draws Huldbrand with her into the waters.
André Jolivet’s strong interest in classicism and nature led him to write many pieces for wind
instruments, and his contributions to the flute repertoire are among his most significant. According to
Jolivet’s introduction, Chant de Linos was an ancient Greek funeral threnody consisting of lamentations,
cries, and dances. In Greek mythology, Linos was a god who was a son of Apollo and one of the
Muses, the goddesses associated with music and dance (the myth varies as to which one he is the son
of). He appears rather late in Greek mythology, but his song is mentioned in several classic works,
including Homer’s The Iliad. Jolivet wrote Chant de Linos as a competition piece for the Paris
Conservatory in 1945 and dedicated it to the professor, Gaston Crunelle. The unusual meter and mode
of the piece, its extreme range and tempos, and its virtuosic writing for both the flute and piano make
this one of the most exciting and challenging pieces in the repertoire.
Virginia Keast, trumpet
Graduate Recital
Tuesday, April 6
5:30 pm, Recital Hall
Andrew Judd, trombone
Graduate Recital
Tuesday, April 6
7:30 pm, Organ Hall
Erika Lamb, clarinet
Graduate Recital
Wednesday, April 7
5:30 pm, Recital Hall
Tiffany Woods, horn
Graduate Recital
Wednesday, April 7
7:30 pm, Recital Hall
Frédéric St-Pierre, violin
Graduate Recital
Thursday, April 8
5:30 pm, Recital Hall
Wayne Reich, violin
Senior Recital
Thursday, April 8
7:30 pm, Organ Hall
upcoming performances
Marin Marais was a great viola da gamba virtuoso of the court of Louis XIV and Louis XV and a prolific
composer. These variations are taken from his Second Book of Pieces for the Viol (Paris 1701). In the
preface or ‘avertissement,’ he writes, “In composing these pieces I made sure they were suitable for
playing on all kinds of instruments such as the organ, harpsichord, theorbo, lute, violin, and transverse
flute, and I flatter myself that I have succeeded, for I have tried them out on the last two.” The famous
Folies theme was used by countless composers in the Baroque era. Les Folies was a dance of
Portuguese, not Spanish, origin, accompanied by tambourines and performed by men dressed as
women who worked themselves into an insane frenzy (hence the word folies, literally, “crazies”).
Maurice Ravel’s Chansons madécasses was written at a time when Ravel was particularly interested
in the possibilities of chamber ensemble music. The work expresses a wide range of emotions from
sensual languor to anger and rebellion to repose and enjoyment of the opposite sex. Ravel uses each
instrument both for thematic and coloristic purposes; the overall effect is dramatic in its exoticism and
expression of text. 20th century French composers are known for their interest in exoticism, and the
poems by Evariste Parny are supposed to have their roots in Madagascar, an island off the southeast
coast of Africa.
Nahandove
Nahandove, ô belle Nahandove!
L’oiseau nocturne a commencé ses cris,
La pleine lune brille sur ma tête,
Et la rosée naissante humecte mes cheveux.
Voici l’heure; qui peut t’arrêter,
Nahandove, ô belle Nahandove!
Le lit de feuilles est préparé;
Je l’ai parsamé de fleurs et
D’Herbes odoriférantes;
Il est digne de tes charmes,
Nahandove, ô belle Nahandove!
Elle vient. J’ai reconnu la respiration précipitée
Que donne une marche rapide;
J’entends le froissement de la pagne
Qui l’envelope;
C’est elle, c’est Nahandove, ô belle Nahandove!
Reprends haleine, ma jeune amie;
Repose-toi sur mes genoux.
Que ton regard est enchanteur!
Que le mouvement de ton sein est vif et délicieux
Sous la main qui le presse!
Tu souris, Nahandove, ô belle Nahandove!
Tes baisers pénètrent jusqu’à l’âme;
Tes caresses brûlent tous mes sens;
Arrête, ou je vais mourir.
Meurt-on de volupté,
Nahandove, ô belle Nahandove!
Le plaisir passe comme un éclair.
Ta douce haleine s’affaiblit,
Tes yeux humides se referment,
Ta tête se penche mollement,
Et tes transports s’éteignent dans la languer.
Jamais tu ne fus si belle,
Nahandove, ô belle Nahandove!
Tu pars, et je vais languir dans
Les regrets et les désirs.
Je languirai jusqu’au soir.
Tu reviendras ce soir,
Nahandove, ô belle Nahandove!
Nahandove, o fair Nahandove!
The night bird has begun its cries,
The full moon illumines my head,
And the early dew moistens my hair.
This is the hour; who can keep you away,
Nahandove, o fair Nahandove!
The bed of leaves is ready;
I have strewn it with flowers and with
Aromatic herbs;
It is worthy of your charms,
Nahandove, o fair Nahandove!
She comes. I recognized the rapid breathing
Of hurried walking;
I hear the rustling of the cloth
That covers her;
It is she, it is Nahandove, the fair Nahandove.
O take breath, my young love,
Rest on my lap.
How enchanting is your glance!
How lively and delicious is the movement of your breast
Under the hand that presses it!
You smile, Nahandove, fair Nahandove!
Your kisses penetrate to the soul;
Your caresses set all my senses on fire!
Stop, or I shall die.
Can one die of voluptuous pleasure,
Nahandove, o fair Nahandove?
The pleasure passes in an instant.
Your sweet panting grows gentler,
Your moist eyes close again,
Your head droops wearily,
And your rapture yields to languor.
Never were you so beautiful,
Nahandove, o fair Nahandove!
You leave me, and I shall languish amid
Regrets and desires.
I shall languish until evening.
You'll come back this evening,
Nahandove, o fair Nahandove!
Méfiez-vous des Blancs
Aoua! Aoua!
Méfiez-vous des Blancs, habitants du rivage.
Du temps de nos pères,
Des Blancs descendirent dans cette île.
On leur dit: voilà des terres,
Que vos femmes les cultivent;
Soyez justes, soyez bons, et devenez nos frères.
Les Blancs promirent,
Et cependant ils faisaient des retranchements.
Un fort menaçant s’éleva;
Le tonnerre fut renfermé
Dans des bouches d’airain;
Leurs prêtres voulurent nous donner
Un Dieu que nous ne connaissons pas,
Ils parlèrent enfin d’obéissance et d’esclavage.
Plutôt la mort.
Le carnage fut long et terrible;
Mais malgré la foudre qu’ils vomissaient,
Et qui écrasait des armées entières,
Ils furent tous exterminés.
Aoua! Méfiez-vous des Blancs.
Nous avons vu de nouveaux tyrans,
Plus forts et plus nombreux,
Planter leur pavillon sur le rivage.
Le ciel a combattu pour nous.
Il a fait tomber sur eux les pluies,
Les tempêtes et les vents empoisonnés.
Ils ne sont plus, et nous vivons,
Et nous vivons libres.
Aoua! Méfiez-vous des Blancs,
Habitants du rivage.
Beware of the White Men
Aoua! Aoua!
Beware of the white men, dwellers on the shore.
In our fathers' time
White men descended upon this island.
One of them said: Here is land,
Let your wives cultivate it;
Be just, be good, and become our brothers.
The white men promised,
And meanwhile they were building entrenchments.
A menacing fort arose;
Thunder was enclosed
In bronze mouths.
Their priests wanted to give us
A god we do not know;
Finally they spoke of obedience and slavery.
Rather death!
The carnage was long and terrible,
Yet for all the lightning bolts they spat forth,
Which destroyed entire armies,
They were utterly exterminated.
Aoua! Beware of the white men!
We have seen new tyrants,
Stronger, and more numerous,
Plant their banners on the shore.
Heaven fought for us.
It dropped rains upon them,
And tempests and poisonous winds.
They are no more, and we live on,
And we live free.
Aoua! Beware of the white men,
Dwellers on the shore.
Il est doux de se coucher
Il est doux de se coucher,
Durant la chaleur, sous un arbre touffu,
Et d’attendre que le vent du soir
Amène la fraîcheur.
Femmes, approchez.
Tandis que je me repose ici sous un arbre touffu,
Occupez mon oreille par vos accents prolongés.
Répétez la chanson de la jeune fille,
Lorsque ses doigts tressent la natte
Ou lorsqu’assise auprès du riz,
Elle chasse les oiseaux avides.
Le chant plaît à mon âme.
La danse est pour moi presque aussi douce
Qu’un baiser.
Que vos pas soient lents;
Qu’ils imitent les attitudes
Du plaisir et l’abandon de la volupté.
Le vent du soir se lève;
La lune commence à briller
Au travers des arbres de la montagne.
Allez, et préparez le repas.
It is good to lie down
It is good to lie down
In the heat of the day, under a leafy tree,
And to wait until the evening wind
Brings freshness.
Women, approach.
While I rest here under a leafy tree,
Delight my ear with your soothing voices.
Repeat the song of the young girl
While she braids her hair
Or, while sitting by the rice patch,
Chases the greedy birds away.
The singing is pleasing to my spirit.
Dancing for me is almost as sweet
As a kiss.
Step slowly;
Imitate the poses of pleasure
And the surrender to voluptuous bliss.
The evening wind awakens;
The moon begins to shine
Through the trees on the mountain.
Go, and prepare the meal.
Marin Marais was a great viola da gamba virtuoso of the court of Louis XIV and Louis XV and a prolific
composer. These variations are taken from his Second Book of Pieces for the Viol (Paris 1701). In the
preface or ‘avertissement,’ he writes, “In composing these pieces I made sure they were suitable for
playing on all kinds of instruments such as the organ, harpsichord, theorbo, lute, violin, and transverse
flute, and I flatter myself that I have succeeded, for I have tried them out on the last two.” The famous
Folies theme was used by countless composers in the Baroque era. Les Folies was a dance of
Portuguese, not Spanish, origin, accompanied by tambourines and performed by men dressed as
women who worked themselves into an insane frenzy (hence the word folies, literally, “crazies”).
Maurice Ravel’s Chansons madécasses was written at a time when Ravel was particularly interested
in the possibilities of chamber ensemble music. The work expresses a wide range of emotions from
sensual languor to anger and rebellion to repose and enjoyment of the opposite sex. Ravel uses each
instrument both for thematic and coloristic purposes; the overall effect is dramatic in its exoticism and
expression of text. 20th century French composers are known for their interest in exoticism, and the
poems by Evariste Parny are supposed to have their roots in Madagascar, an island off the southeast
coast of Africa.
Nahandove
Nahandove, ô belle Nahandove!
L’oiseau nocturne a commencé ses cris,
La pleine lune brille sur ma tête,
Et la rosée naissante humecte mes cheveux.
Voici l’heure; qui peut t’arrêter,
Nahandove, ô belle Nahandove!
Le lit de feuilles est préparé;
Je l’ai parsamé de fleurs et
D’Herbes odoriférantes;
Il est digne de tes charmes,
Nahandove, ô belle Nahandove!
Elle vient. J’ai reconnu la respiration précipitée
Que donne une marche rapide;
J’entends le froissement de la pagne
Qui l’envelope;
C’est elle, c’est Nahandove, ô belle Nahandove!
Reprends haleine, ma jeune amie;
Repose-toi sur mes genoux.
Que ton regard est enchanteur!
Que le mouvement de ton sein est vif et délicieux
Sous la main qui le presse!
Tu souris, Nahandove, ô belle Nahandove!
Tes baisers pénètrent jusqu’à l’âme;
Tes caresses brûlent tous mes sens;
Arrête, ou je vais mourir.
Meurt-on de volupté,
Nahandove, ô belle Nahandove!
Le plaisir passe comme un éclair.
Ta douce haleine s’affaiblit,
Tes yeux humides se referment,
Ta tête se penche mollement,
Et tes transports s’éteignent dans la languer.
Jamais tu ne fus si belle,
Nahandove, ô belle Nahandove!
Tu pars, et je vais languir dans
Les regrets et les désirs.
Je languirai jusqu’au soir.
Tu reviendras ce soir,
Nahandove, ô belle Nahandove!
Nahandove, o fair Nahandove!
The night bird has begun its cries,
The full moon illumines my head,
And the early dew moistens my hair.
This is the hour; who can keep you away,
Nahandove, o fair Nahandove!
The bed of leaves is ready;
I have strewn it with flowers and with
Aromatic herbs;
It is worthy of your charms,
Nahandove, o fair Nahandove!
She comes. I recognized the rapid breathing
Of hurried walking;
I hear the rustling of the cloth
That covers her;
It is she, it is Nahandove, the fair Nahandove.
O take breath, my young love,
Rest on my lap.
How enchanting is your glance!
How lively and delicious is the movement of your breast
Under the hand that presses it!
You smile, Nahandove, fair Nahandove!
Your kisses penetrate to the soul;
Your caresses set all my senses on fire!
Stop, or I shall die.
Can one die of voluptuous pleasure,
Nahandove, o fair Nahandove?
The pleasure passes in an instant.
Your sweet panting grows gentler,
Your moist eyes close again,
Your head droops wearily,
And your rapture yields to languor.
Never were you so beautiful,
Nahandove, o fair Nahandove!
You leave me, and I shall languish amid
Regrets and desires.
I shall languish until evening.
You'll come back this evening,
Nahandove, o fair Nahandove!
Méfiez-vous des Blancs
Aoua! Aoua!
Méfiez-vous des Blancs, habitants du rivage.
Du temps de nos pères,
Des Blancs descendirent dans cette île.
On leur dit: voilà des terres,
Que vos femmes les cultivent;
Soyez justes, soyez bons, et devenez nos frères.
Les Blancs promirent,
Et cependant ils faisaient des retranchements.
Un fort menaçant s’éleva;
Le tonnerre fut renfermé
Dans des bouches d’airain;
Leurs prêtres voulurent nous donner
Un Dieu que nous ne connaissons pas,
Ils parlèrent enfin d’obéissance et d’esclavage.
Plutôt la mort.
Le carnage fut long et terrible;
Mais malgré la foudre qu’ils vomissaient,
Et qui écrasait des armées entières,
Ils furent tous exterminés.
Aoua! Méfiez-vous des Blancs.
Nous avons vu de nouveaux tyrans,
Plus forts et plus nombreux,
Planter leur pavillon sur le rivage.
Le ciel a combattu pour nous.
Il a fait tomber sur eux les pluies,
Les tempêtes et les vents empoisonnés.
Ils ne sont plus, et nous vivons,
Et nous vivons libres.
Aoua! Méfiez-vous des Blancs,
Habitants du rivage.
Beware of the White Men
Aoua! Aoua!
Beware of the white men, dwellers on the shore.
In our fathers' time
White men descended upon this island.
One of them said: Here is land,
Let your wives cultivate it;
Be just, be good, and become our brothers.
The white men promised,
And meanwhile they were building entrenchments.
A menacing fort arose;
Thunder was enclosed
In bronze mouths.
Their priests wanted to give us
A god we do not know;
Finally they spoke of obedience and slavery.
Rather death!
The carnage was long and terrible,
Yet for all the lightning bolts they spat forth,
Which destroyed entire armies,
They were utterly exterminated.
Aoua! Beware of the white men!
We have seen new tyrants,
Stronger, and more numerous,
Plant their banners on the shore.
Heaven fought for us.
It dropped rains upon them,
And tempests and poisonous winds.
They are no more, and we live on,
And we live free.
Aoua! Beware of the white men,
Dwellers on the shore.
Il est doux de se coucher
Il est doux de se coucher,
Durant la chaleur, sous un arbre touffu,
Et d’attendre que le vent du soir
Amène la fraîcheur.
Femmes, approchez.
Tandis que je me repose ici sous un arbre touffu,
Occupez mon oreille par vos accents prolongés.
Répétez la chanson de la jeune fille,
Lorsque ses doigts tressent la natte
Ou lorsqu’assise auprès du riz,
Elle chasse les oiseaux avides.
Le chant plaît à mon âme.
La danse est pour moi presque aussi douce
Qu’un baiser.
Que vos pas soient lents;
Qu’ils imitent les attitudes
Du plaisir et l’abandon de la volupté.
Le vent du soir se lève;
La lune commence à briller
Au travers des arbres de la montagne.
Allez, et préparez le repas.
It is good to lie down
It is good to lie down
In the heat of the day, under a leafy tree,
And to wait until the evening wind
Brings freshness.
Women, approach.
While I rest here under a leafy tree,
Delight my ear with your soothing voices.
Repeat the song of the young girl
While she braids her hair
Or, while sitting by the rice patch,
Chases the greedy birds away.
The singing is pleasing to my spirit.
Dancing for me is almost as sweet
As a kiss.
Step slowly;
Imitate the poses of pleasure
And the surrender to voluptuous bliss.
The evening wind awakens;
The moon begins to shine
Through the trees on the mountain.
Go, and prepare the meal.
