2003-09-23 Swingle-Putland Moore Wissick [recital program]

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