University of Florida Performing Arts

Presents

Young Concert Artist: Jeanine De Bique,

Soprano

Monday, March 19, 2012, 7:30 p.m.

Squitieri Studio Theatre

JEANINE De BIQUE, soprano

ProgramGiunse al fin il momento — Al Desio di chi t’adora, K. 492/577 W.A. Mozart

Heimliche Aufforderung Richard StraussDie NachtAll mein gedankenBreit über mein hauptMuttertändeleiCäcille

Cinq Melodies Populaires Grecques Maurice RavelChanson de la marieeLa-bas, vers egliseQuel gallant m’est comparableChanson des cueilleuses de lentisquesTout Gai!

INTERMISSION

A Nun Takes the Veil Samuel BarberSleep NowFrom Hermit Songs

St. Ita’s VisionThe CrucifixionThe Praises of GodThe Monk and his Cat

Cantata John CarterPeter go ring dem bells Sometimes I feel like a motherless childLet us break bread togetherRide on King Jesus

Program subject to change.

Texts and TranslationsMozartText: Lorenzo da PonteGiunse alfìn il momentoChe godrò senza affannoIn braccio all’idol mio. Timide cure,Uscite dal mio petto,A turbar non venite il mio diletto!

Oh, come par che all’amoroso focoL’amenità del loco,La terra e il ciel risponda,Come la notte i furti miei seconda!

Al desìo di chi t’adora,Vieni, vola, o mia speranza!

Morirò, se indarno ancoraTu mi lasci sospirar.

Le promesse, i giuramenti,Deh! rammenta, o mio tesoro!

E i momenti di ristoroChe mi fece Amor sperar!

Ah! ch’io mai più non resistoAll’ardor che in sen m’accende!Chi d’amor gli affetti intende,Compatisca il mio penar.

StraussHeimliche AufforderungText: John Henry Mackay Auf, hebe die funkelnde Schale empor zum Mund,Und trinke beim Freudenmahle dein Herz gesund.Und wenn du sie hebst, so winke mir heimlich zu,Dann lächle ich und dann trinke ich still wie du...

Und still gleich mir betrachte um uns das HeerDer trunknen Schwätzer — verachte sie nicht zu sehr.Nein, hebe die blinkende Schale, gefüllt mit Wein,Und laß beim lärmenden Mahle sie glücklich sein.

Doch hast du das Mahl genossen, den Durst gestillt,Dann verlasse der lauten Genossen festfreudiges Bild,Und wandle hinaus in den Garten zum Rosenstrauch,Dort will ich dich dann erwarten nach altem Brauch,

Und will an die Brust dir sinken, eh du’s erhofft,Und deine Küsse trinken, wie ehmals oft,Und flechten in deine Haare der Rose Pracht.O komme, du wunderbare, ersehnte Nacht!

At last comes the momentWhen, without reserve, I can rejoice in my lover’s arms. Timid scruples,Hence from my heart,And do not come to trouble my delight!

Oh, how the spirit of this place,The earth and the sky, seemTo echo the fire of love,How the night furthers my stealth!

Come, hurry, my beloved,To the desires of the one who adores you!

I shall die if you leave meStill to sigh in vain.

The promises, and vows;(Of) those! Remember, my darling!

And those moments of solace,Which love made me hope for!

Ah, I can no longer resistThe passion that is burning in my heart!Let those who understands the pains of love,Have sympathy with my suffering.

Secret Invitation

Up, raise the sparkling cup to your lips,And drink your heart’s fill at the joyous feast.And when you raise it, so wink secretly at me,Then I’ll smile and drink quietly, as you...

And quietly as I, look around at the crowdOf drunken revelers — don’t think too ill of them.No, lift the twinkling cup, filled with wine,And let them be happy at the noisy meal.

But when you’ve savored the meal, your thirst quenched,Then quit the loud gathering’s joyful fest,And wander out into the garden, to the rosebush,There shall I await you, as often of old.

And ere you know it shall I sink upon your breast,And drink your kisses, as so often before,And twine the rose’s splendour into your hair.Oh, come, you wondrous, longed-for night!

Die Nacht Text: Hermann von Gilm zu RoseneggAus dem Walde tritt die Nacht,Aus den Bäumen schleicht sie leise,Schaut sich um im weitem Kreise,Nun gib acht.

Alle Lichter dieser Welt,Alle Blumen, alle FarbenLöscht sie aus und stiehlt die GarbenWeg vom Feld.

Alles nimmt sie, was nur hold,Nimmt das Silber weg des Stromes,Nimmt vom Kupferdach des DomesWeg das Gold.

Ausgeplündert steht der Strauch,Rücke näher, Seel an Seele;O die Nacht, mir bangt, sie stehleDich mir auch.

All mein gedankenText: Felix Ludwig Julius Dahn All mein’ Gedanken, mein Herz und mein Sinn,da, wo die Liebste ist, wandern sie hin.Gehn ihres Weges trotz Mauer und Tor,da hält kein Riegel, kein Graben nicht vor,gehn wie die Vögelein hoch durch die Luft,brauchen kein’ Brücken über Wasser und Kluft,finden das Städtlein und finden das Haus,finden ihr Fenster aus allen heraus.Und klopfen und rufen: Mach auf, laß uns ein,wir kommen vom Liebsten und grüßen dich fein.

Breit über mein haupt dein schwarzes HaarText: Adolf Friedrich, Graf von SchackBreit’ über mein Haupt dein schwarzes Haar,Neig’ zu mir dein Angesicht,Da strömt in die Seele so hell und klarMir deiner Augen Licht.

Ich will nicht droben der Sonne Pracht,Noch der Sterne leuchtenden Kranz,Ich will nur deiner Locken NachtUnd deiner Blicke Glanz

The Night

Night steps out of the woods,And sneaks softly out of the trees,Looks about in a wide circle,Now beware.

All the lights of this earth,All flowers, all colorsIt extinguishes, and steals the sheavesFrom the field.

It takes everything that is dear,Takes the silver from the stream,Takes away, from the cathedral’s copper roof,The gold.

The shrubs stand plundered,Draw nearer, soul to soul;Oh, I fear the night will also stealYou from me.

All my thoughts

All my thoughts, my heart and my mind,wander there, to where my sweetheart is.They follow their path despite wall and gate;they are held up by no bars and no ditches.They travel like the birds high in the sky,requiring no bridge over water and chasm;they find the town and find the house,find her window out of all the others.And they knock and call: Open, let us in!we come from your sweetheart and greet you kindly.

Spread over my head your black hair

Spread over my head your black hair,and incline to me your face,so that into my soul, so brightly and clearly,will stream your eye’s light.

I do not want the splendor of the sun above,nor the glittering crown of stars;I want only the night of your locksand the radiance of your gaze.

MuttertändeleiText: Gottfried August BürgerSeht mir doch mein schönes Kind,Mit den gold’nen Zottellöckchen,Blauen Augen, roten Bäckchen!Leutchen, habt ihr auch so eins?Leutchen, nein, ihr habt keins!

Seht mir doch mein süßes Kind,Fetter als ein fettes Schneckchen,Süßer als ein Zuckerweckchen!Leutchen, habt ihr auch so eins?Leutchen, nein, ihr habt keins!

Seht mir doch mein holdes Kind,Nicht zu mürrisch, nicht zu wählig!Immer freundlich, immer fröhlich!Leutchen, habt ihr auch so eins?Leutchen, nein, ihr habt keins!

Seht mir doch mein frommes Kind!Keine bitterböse SiebenWürd’ ihr Mütterchen so lieben.Leutchen, möchtet ihr so eins?O, ihr kriegt gewiß nicht meins!

Komm’ einmal ein Kaufmann her!Hunderttausend blanke Taler,Alles Gold der Erde zahl’ er!O, er kriegt gewiß nicht meins! —Ú…Kauf ’ er sich woanders eins!

CäcilieText: Heinrich HartWenn du es wüßtest,Was träumen heißt von brennenden Küssen,Von Wandern und Ruhen mit der Geliebten,Aug in Auge,Und kosend und plaudernd,Wenn du es wüßtest,Du neigtest dein Herz!

Wenn du es wüßtest,Was bangen heißt in einsamen Nächten,Umschauert vom Sturm, da niemand tröstetMilden Mundes die kampfmüde Seele,Wenn du es wüßtest,Du kämst zu mir.

Wenn du es wüßtest,Was leben heißt, umhaucht von der GottheitWeltschaffendem Atem,Zu schweben empor, lichtgetragen,Zu seligen Höhen,Wenn du es wüßtest,Du lebtest mit mir!

Mother-chatter

But just look at my fair child,with such golden curly locks,blue eyes, red cheeks!My friends, have you such a one?My friends, no, you have not!

But just look at my sweet child,fatter than a fat snail,sweeter than a sugar roll!My friends, have you such a one?My friends, no, you have not!

But just look at my lovely child,not too grumpy, not too particular!Always friendly, always merry!My friends, have you such a one?My friends, no, you have not!

But just look at my pious child!No bitter shrewcould be so loved by its mother.My friends, would you like to have such a one?O, you certainly won’t get mine!

Just let a buyer come here once!A hundred thousand shiny thalers —all the gold in the world he would pay!But he certainly won’t get mine!Let him buy somewhere else.

Cäcilie

If you only knewwhat it’s like to dream of burning kisses,of wandering and resting with one’s beloved,eye turned to eye,and cuddling and chatting —if you only knew,you would incline your heart to me!

If you only knewwhat it’s like to feel dread on lonely nights,surrounded by a raging storm, while no one comfortswith a mild voice your struggle-weary soul —if you only knew,you would come to me.

If you only knewwhat it’s like to live, surrounded by God’sworld-creating breath,to float up, carried by the light,to blessed heights —if you only knew,then you would live with me!

RavelCinq Melodies Populaires GrequesTexts: Michel Dimitri Calvocoressi Chanson de la mariéeRéveille-toi, réveille-toi, perdrix mignonne, Ouvre au matin tes ailes. Trois grains de beauté, mon coeur en est brûlé! Vois le ruban d’or que je t’apporte, Pour le nouer autour de tes cheveux. Si tu veux, ma belle, viens nous marier! Dans nos deux familles, tous sont alliés!

Là-bas, vers l’égliseLà-bas, vers l’église,Vers l’église Ayio Sidéro,L’église, ô Vierge sainte,L’église Ayio Costanndino,Se sont réunis,Rassemblés en nombre infini,Du monde, ô Vierge sainte,Du monde tous les plus braves!

Quel Galant m’est comparableQuel galant m’est comparable, D’entre ceux qu’on voit passer?Dis, dame Vassiliki?

Vois, pendus à ma ceinture, pistolets et sabre aigu... Et c’est toi que j’aime!

Chanson des cueilleuses de lentisquesO joie de mon âme,Joie de mon coeur,Trésor qui m’est si cher;Joie de l’âme et du coeur,Toi que j’aime ardemment,Tu es plus beau qu’un ange.O lorsque tu parais,Ange si douxDevant nos yeux,Comme un bel ange blond,Sous le clair soleil,Hélas! tous nos pauvres coeurs soupirent!

Tout gaiTout gai! gai, Ha, tout gai! Belle jambe, tireli, qui danse; Belle jambe, la vaisselle danse, Tra la la la la...

Five Popular Greek Melodies

Song of the brideAwake, awake, my darling partridge, Open to the morning your wings.Three beauty marks; my heart is on fire!See the ribbon of gold that I bring To tie round your hair. If you want, my beauty, we shall marry! In our two families, everyone is related

Yonder, by the churchYonder, by the church,By the church of Ayio Sidero,The church, o blessed Virgin,The church of Ayio Costanndino,There are gathered,Assembled in numbers infinite,The world’s, o blessed Virgin,All the world’s most decent folk

What gallant compares with me? What gallant compares with me, Among those one sees passing by? Tell me, lady Vassiliki!

See, hanging on my belt, My pistols and my curved sword. And it is you whom I love!

The Song of the Girls Collecting MasticO joy of my soul,joy of my heart,treasure which is so dear to me,joy of my soul and heart,you whom I love ardently,you are more handsome than an angel.O when you appear,angel so sweet,Before our eyes,Like a fine, blond angel,under the bright sun,Alas! all of our poor hearts sigh!

Everyone is joyousEveryone is joyous, Everyone is joyous! Beautiful legs, trala, which dance, Beautiful legs; even the dishes are dancing! Tra la la, la la la!

BarberA Nun Takes the VeilText: Gerard Manley HopkinsI have desired to goWhere springs not fail,To fields where flies no sharp and sided hailAnd a few lilies blow.

And I have asked to beWhere no storms come,Where the green swell is in the havens dumb,And out of the swing of the sea.

Sleep NowText: James JoyceSleep now, O sleep now,O you unquiet heart!A voice crying “Sleep now”Is heard in my heart.

The voice of the winterIs heard at the door.O sleep, for the winterIs crying “Sleep no more.”

My kiss will give peace nowAnd quiet to your heart —Sleep on in peace now,O you unquiet heart!

St. Ita’s VisionThe poem is a translation of a text possibly by St. Ita, but attributed to an anonymous Irish monk who lived sometime between the 8th and 13th centuries. The English translation used by Barber is by Chester Kallman.“I will take nothing from my Lord,” said she,“unless He gives me His Son from Heaven In the form of a Baby that I may nurse Him”. So that Christ came down to her in the form of a Baby and then she said: “Infant Jesus, at my breast,Nothing in this world is true Save, O tiny nursling, You.Infant Jesus at my breast,By my heart every night,You I nurse are not a churlBut were begot on Mary the Jewess By Heaven’s light.Infant Jesus at my breast,What King is there but You who could Give everlasting good?Wherefore I give my food.Sing to Him, maidens, sing your best!There is none that has such rightTo your song as Heaven’s KingWho every nightIs Infant Jesus at my breast.”

The CrucifixionThe poem is a translation of a text by an anonymous Irish monk who lived sometime between the 8th and 13th centuries. The English translation used by Barber is by Howard Mumford Jones.At the cry of the first birdThey began to crucify Thee, O Swan!Never shall lament cease because of that.It was like the parting of day from night.Ah, sore was the suffering borneBy the body of Mary’s Son,But sorer still to Him was the griefWhich for His sakeCame upon His Mother.

The Praises of GodThe poem is a translation of a text by an anonymous Irish monk who lived sometime between the 8th and 13th centuries. The English translation used by Barber is by W. H. Auden.How foolish the man who does not raiseHis voice and praise with joyful words,As he alone can, Heaven’s High King.To whom the light birds with no soul but air,All day, everywhere laudations sing.

The Monk and his CatAdapted by W.H. Auden from an 8th or 9th century anonymous Irish text.Pangur, white Pangur,How happy we areAlone together, Scholar and cat.Each has his own work to do daily;For you it is hunting, for me, study.Your shining eye watches the wall;My feeble eye is fixed on a book.You rejoice when your claws entrap a mouse;I rejoice when my mind fathoms a problem.Pleased with his own artNeither hinders the other;Thus we live everWithout tedium and envy.Pangur, white Pangur,How happy we are,Alone together, Scholar and cat.

CarterText: Traditional Oh Peter go ring them bellsoh, Peter, go ring them bellsPeter, go ring them bellsPeter, go ring them bellsI heard from heaven todayI wonder where my mother is goneI wonder where my mother is goneI wonder where my mother is goneI heard from heaven todayI wonder where brother Moses is gone…I wonder where sister Mary is goneSometimes I feel like a motherless child

Sometimes I feel like a motherless childSometimes I feel like a motherless childSometimes I feel like a motherless childA long ways from homeA long ways from homeTrue believerA long ways from homeAlong ways from homeSometimes I feel like I’m almos’ goneSometimes I feel like I’m almos’ goneSometimes I feel like I’m almos’ goneWay up in de heab’nly land Way up in de heab’nly landTrue believerWay up in de heab’nly land Way up in de heab’nly landSometimes I feel like a motherless childSometimes I feel like a motherless childSometimes I feel like a motherless childA long ways from homeThere’s praying everywhere

Let us break bread togetherLet us break bread together on our knees, (on our knees)Let us break bread together on our knees. (on our knees)When I fall on my knees with my face to the rising sun,O Lord, have mercy on me.Let us drink wine together on our knees, (on our knees)Let us drink wine together on our knees. (on our knees)When I fall on my knees with my face to the rising sun,O Lord, have mercy on me.Let us praise God together on our knees, (on our knees)Let us praise God together on our knees. (on our knees)When I fall on my knees with my face to the rising sun,O Lord, have mercy on me.

Ride on King JesusRide on King Jesus !No man can hinder himRide on King Jesus !No man can hinder him Jesus rides o a milk white horseNo man can hinder himThe river Jordan he did crossNo man can hinder himIf you want to find your way to GodNo man can hinder himThe gospel highway must be trodNo man can hinder himI was young when I begunNo man can hinder himBut now my race is almost runNo man can hinder him

Program NotesRecitative and Aria: Giunse al fin il momento—Al Desio di chi t’adora, K. 492/577, from the opera Le Nozze di FigaroWolfgang Amadeus Mozart (born on January 27, 1756, in Salzburg, Germany; died on December 5, 1791, in Vienna) Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was never happier than when composing operas. Read letters to his beloved sister Maria Anna (“Nannerl” as he always called her) or to his father Leopold, or to his “sweet little wife,” Constanza. “I’ve begun in earnest to consider my new “Nozze” [Le Nozze di Figaro], he writes; “its melodies simply delight me! My head is full of Figaro’s joy, Figaro’s rage, Figaro’s cleverness. I can think of nothing else!” Or (to his father, Leopold, also a composer), “You alone will appreciate the satisfaction of sitting at my desk, writing arias, and hearing a voice that sings like a lovely birdling in my head . . .”Mozart based Le Nozze di Figaro (The Marriage of Figaro) on a satirical play by Pierre Augustin de Beaumarchais (1732-1799, son of a humble watch-maker, about the interrelationships of servants and their masters. So inflammatory were the themes of the play — what self-respecting aristocrat could countenance servants being so hoity-toity to their employers? — that Emperor Joseph II forbade its performance in Vienna. The great writer and librettist, Lorenzo da Ponte (1749-1838), a friend of the emperor, succeeded in persuading him to lift the ban, and then wrote a libretto based on the play, which resulted in Mozart’s opera, first performed in Vienna on May 1, 1786. (In France, the play’s performances preceded the French Revolution by only a few years.) Many consider The Marriage of Figaro to be not only Mozart’s finest stage work but the “perfect” opera, ideal in its sprightly music, its witty dialogue, its superb rendering of the manners and morals of its day, and its nuanced delineation of the infinite variety of love.As the curtain rises, two bright and attractive servants, Figaro and Susanna, are discussing details of their coming marriage. Figaro is the valet and manservant of Count Almaviva, a wealthy nobleman, who has, after some years of blissful marriage, wearied of his beautiful, virtuous wife, the Countess, and now regularly makes his way through the toothsome young damsels of Seville, city of roués like the historic Don Juan, and the setting for the opera. Susanna, dazzlingly pretty, is the Countess’ maid and confidante. She admits to Figaro that the Count has of late been paying her unwanted and unrequited attentions. Figaro is furious at his employer’s duplicity, and vows that he will get even. Meanwhile Cherubino, a callow and lovesick but high-born lad, complains to Susanna and the Countess that every woman he sees arouses extraordinary passions in him; he seeks consolation from two of those very women as he sings. It is obvious to everyone that he is especially daffy about the Countess, of course, and Figaro good-naturedly tries to give him some sensible advice. The Count, deeply suspicious (and with good reason) discovers him mooning about the Countess’ suite in the palace, and stiffly orders him off to join his military regiment; though only 15, Cherubino, like all young noblemen of the time, already has an army commission and a horse of his own. Then there is old Bartolo, formerly the Countess’ guardian and still openly desirous not only of an affair with her, but for a comeuppance for the Count who stole her from him in the first place years ago. He rages, he fumes. The Countess, more amused than annoyed by any of this, is sincerely hurt by the Count’s current inattentions and wishes both to spiff up his interest in her and to defuse his fascination with Susanna. She allows herself a moment of retrospection, before turning to discuss her current situation candidly with arch-strategists Susanna and Figaro.

Peopled by such impetuous and amorous characters, Figaro’s farcical plot involves many scenes of mistaken identities, encounters behind closet doors, young men seen leaping from bedroom windows, disguises, masks and the like. Cherubino, who disobeys the Count’s commands so that he can remain longer near the Countess, is at one point clothed in women’s dress so as to escape detection and joins a group of servants who are singing a sweet chorus or two to their beloved mistress, the Countess. Finally, an elaborate hoax is planned that will teach the Count a lesson and persuade him once again to follow the primrose path. Susanna agrees to a tryst with him, and then changes clothing with the Countess, so that it will appear that it is she who will keep the appointment instead. Naturally, nothing goes exactly right, and a brooch that is supposed to convince the Count that he is making love to the right woman is mislaid. But ultimately the Count appears, is traduced, seeks forgiveness from the Countess and faithfully promises to reform his iniquitous lifestyle. The much talked-of and fomented-against marriage of Susanna and Figaro will soon take place, inspiring young lovers everywhere to remain true to one another forever.The first performance, at the court theater in Vienna on May 1, 1786, was a great success and enthusiasm grew by word-of-mouth, so that the second performance became a contest to see how many encored arias could be coaxed out of the singers, and by the time of the third performance, the Emperor ordered a ban on repetition of ensemble pieces so as to prevent the performance from running all night.A Prague performance the following December was such a formidable triumph that the city requested Mozart to conduct the next one himself. He wrote, “Here they talk of nothing else. Nothing is played, sung or whistled but Figaro!”When a Vienna revival was planned for August of 1789, a few casting changes had to be made. Among them, the substitution of Mozart’s favorite soprano, Nancy Storace, by Adriana Gabrielli, known as Il Ferrarese, who was probably da Ponte’s mistress but nowhere near as accurate and assured a singer and comic actress as Nancy. And she was demanding. Two of Susanna’s original arias were not nearly showy enough for her taste, she insisted. In the interests of good feeling, Mozart was willing to compose new ones for her and in record time. Da Ponte had already remarked that Mozart wrote music so fast that he, da Ponte, could not keep up with him, that Mozart could compose music faster than da Ponte could scratch out words.One of the substitutions was the fourth-act aria, “Deh vieni non tardar” consistently a delight among the opera’s highlights but a subtle, light-hearted romp, as Susanna teases Figaro who is out of sight but knows that she is pretending to be the Countess in their little joke on the Count. For Il Ferrarese Mozart pulled out all the stops in the way of range and brilliance and created a show-piece of immense difficulty and stunning bravura.Apparently Signora Gabrielli huffed and puffed her way through it with amazing ease and lustrous tone because in six months’ time Mozart had chosen her to sing Fiordiligi, the leading soprano role, in his new opera, Così fan tutte. Another triumph was just around the corner.

Sechs LiederRichard Strauss (born in Munich on June 11, 1864; died in Garmisch, Bavaria, on September 8, 1949)

Heimliche Aufforderung Die NachtAll mein GedankenBreit über mein HauptMuttertändeleiCäcille

Strauss was already caught in the libidinal fire of his passionately Byronic orchestral tone poem Don Juan, which he would complete in 1888, when he met the tempestuous soprano Pauline de Ahna — a handsome, eccentric, charmingly garrulous but very spoiled daughter of the distinguished army general Adolf de Ahna. She was studying opera in Weimar, and Strauss soon took her on as a “special” voice pupil, he himself having just been appointed one of the Weimar court opera’s chief conductors, and thus pretty much able to do anything he wanted.What he wanted most was to marry Pauline, and that turbulent but essentially happy union took place on Sept. 10, 1894. Apart from the fact that the bride wore apricot satin, perhaps the most interesting detail relating to the ceremony was the small sheaf of exquisite songs which the groom presented to his beloved as a wedding gift.Strauss loved to write for the soprano voice, and he frequently claimed that Pauline’s had the unique timbre he always heard in his head when he composed his songs. He was still being inspired by her when he completed his Vier letzte Lieder (Four Last Songs) in 1950, the year of his death. Pauline survived him by only a few months.This evening, Ms. De Bique offers two from Richard’s bouquet of wedding songs, first Heimliche Aufforderung (Secret Invitation) — actually the third of the set of four songs that was published as Opus 27. Its text is a poem by the Scottish-born John Henry MacKay (1864-1933), who was brought to Germany as an infant and raised there, and attended universities in Berlin and Leipzig. The young man turned into a left-wing thinker with anarchic tendencies, so that he was often in trouble with the authorities, but managed all the same to build a fine career as a novelist. In a more lyric vein he published in 1887 a volume of poetry, Sturm (Storm), in which Strauss discovered this heady lyric and set it to music a year or two before his marriage. Essentially a drinking song, Heimliche Aufforderung begins ebulliently by raising a toast to the healing qualities of wine. The mood moderates somewhat and the song ends in a fragrant rose-garden, where the beloved is waiting to drink kisses, a somewhat different sort of tipple.Strauss had already established a sterling reputation as a composer of song, as evidenced by the much earlier Die Nacht (Night), Opus 10, No. 3, a setting of nature-poet Gilm zu Rosenegg, pseudonym of Hermann von Innsbruck (1812-1864), who was a modest Austrian civil servant. Strauss selected several of his loveliest poems for the Acht Lieder, Opus 10, published in 1885. In this one, Night slinks from the dark forest, and as she does so also steals all the beguiling tints of the earth — colors and tints from the flowers, the trees, the shrubbery, the silver from the sparkling river’s surface, the gold from the corn sheaves, the copper from the ancient church roof-tiles. “We must beware, my love, lest she try to steal you, too”.Four years later, Strauss assembled five new songs and published them as Schlichte Weisen (Simple Ways), Opus 21, in 1889. The texts are all by Felix Dahn, who escaped from the career in jurisprudence his father had planned for him and fled instead into literature, producing an epic poem of stupefyingly heroic proportions, as well as gloomy tragic dramas before finally capturing the publics eager attention with four huge, colorful novels based on German history. At heart,

however, Dahn was always a poet, and today it is the charming lyrics Strauss set to music that make his name imperishable. The first song of the opus is All’ mein’ Gedanken (All my thoughts), in which the poet describes his mind as being brim full of memories of his sweetheart, borne as if by birds — over fields and streams, unfettered by bridges or gates, honing in on her village, her wainscoted home — to her little curtained window, each thought a sweet greeting of love. Breit über mein Haupt dein schwartzes Haar (Spread over my Head your Raven Locks), Opus 19, No. 2, is one of six songs from a group of poems by Adolph Friedrich von Schack (1815-1894) entitled Lotusblättern (Lotus Leaves), the music published by Strauss in 1888. Schack, scion of an almost ridiculously wealthy family, lived a life packed with exotic projects, sandwiching among them his own translations of lurid Spanish drama and Portuguese poetry, all the while immersing himself by reading delicate Arabic and Oriental love poetry. So far as he worked at all, he was actually better known as a theater and art critic than as a poet, but he managed to ally himself with a Munich circle of writers, and there in 1866, published his Gedichte, from which this poem is drawn. When he died, his superb collection of old master paintings was bequeathed by him to the last of the Holy Roman Emperors, Franz II, who struggled to see that it remained in Munich, though, alas, it was considerably dispersed in the course of several disastrous wars, beginning with Napoleon’s against Austria.Writer Gottfried August Bürger (1747-1794) is perhaps best known for his popular re-tellings of the adventures of Baron Münchhausen, the indefatigable and charming liar of German legend, but he also composed poetry in the rare moments of his life when he was not quarreling good-naturedly with his wife, whoever she happened to be at the moment, or drinking himself into self-absorbed insensibility in the nearest tavern. His playful poem, Muttertänderlei (Mother-Chatter), was set to music by Strauss in 1899, and published as the second of three Lieder, Opus 43. By this time Strauss was principal conductor of the Berlin court opera, where in his hectic first season he had led 71 performances of 25 operas, including Wagner’s Ring cycle, complete. He and Pauline were everywhere in demand, and his first tour of the United States was only a year or so away. Muttertändelei, like the other two songs, was dedicated to the celebrated German contralto Ernestine Schumann-Heink, one of Berlin’s biggest stars, and was first sung by her. The music is unfailingly bright and cheerful, with graceful roulades falling from the singer’s lips almost like the patter-songs of Gilbert and Sullivan, which date from about the same period in music history. Strauss often combined this song with a couple of his others, Meinem Kinde and Wiegenlied, labeling them Three Songs for a Mother, and programming them to show off Pauline, who had by that time produced their only child, Franz, born in 1897, and der unvergleichlich Schmuck (“matchless jewel”) of proud Papa and Mama’s existence. Cäcilie, Opus 27, No. 2, another of Strauss’ wedding songs for his apricot-gowned bride in 1894, is set to a joyous lyric by Heinrich Hart (1855-1906). Like his younger brother Julius, Heinrich was a passionate believer of the new school of Naturalismus promoted throughout Europe in the 1880s, especially as it concerned critical journalism. The brothers worked together in Berlin all their adult lives, editing an immense literary calendar, as well as turning out novels, plays and dramatic criticism. Heinrich himself had little regard for his own poetic efforts — he insisted on comparing them to Goethe’s — but lyrics like “Wenn du es wüstest was träumen heisst von brennenden Küssen (“If you only knew what it is like to dream of burning kisses”) delighted Strauss’ romantic nature enormously. Wisely he altered the title to Cäcilie, though curiously that name does not appear in the lyrics and is never sung. It is an ancient feminine form of Cecil, deriving from Roman times as Cæcilius, and apparently has its roots in Latin cæcus, “blind” or “dim-sighted.” One of the earliest Cäcilias founded a church in Rome and has been venerated as a martyr since the sixth century. Of course, today she is most revered as the patron saint of Music, which is probably what inspired Strauss more than a century ago.

Cinq Mélodies Populaires Greeques Maurice Ravel (born on March 7, 1875, in Ciboure, France, near Biarritz in the Basque country; died in Paris on December 28, 1937)

Chanson de la mariée (The Bride’s Song)Là-bas, vers l’église (Yonder, by the Church)Quel Galant m’est comparable (What Brave Fellow Can Be Compared with Me?)Chanson de cueilleuses de lentisques (Song of the Girls Gathering Mastic*)Tout gai! (Everyone Is Joyful!)

Ravel met the distinguished Greek-born musicologist Michel D. Calvocaressi in 1898 and the two became instant and lifelong friends. Ravel himself had very little interest in folk-song, French or any other culture — certainly not like Béla Bartók or Zoltán Kodály with their exhaustive work in Hungarian folk-song or Edvard Grieg in Norwegian or Heitor Villa-Lobos in Brazilian — but Calvocaressi was an expert folklorist, particularly in Greek melodies, and he extolled their beauties so passionately and unceasingly that Ravel had to join in.On one occasion the two friends had planned to attend a lecture titled “Songs of the Oppressed,” dealing with Armenian and Greek folklore, which another friend, Pierre Aubrey was being forced to prepare in some haste. At the last minute he asked the soprano Louise Thomasset to collaborate with him. She agreed, specifying only that whatever songs she sang would have piano accompaniments. She disliked singing alone, she added. Calvocoressi turned to Ravel, of course, and the two of them selected four texts from a collection of them Calvocoressi had just assembled and intended to publish, along with another from a similar collection by Hubert Penrot (the Chanson de cueilleuses). Four of their choices came originally from the island of Chios, off the coast of Turkey, which had been settled in medieval times.Ravel, who normally worked very slowly and painstakingly, produced his delicate accompaniments in a mere 36 hours, and the first performance took place at L’École des Hautes Études en Sciences Sociales in Paris on Feb. 20, 1904. Calvocoressi had carefully taught the words phonetically to the singer. The reception from this audience of scientists was so enthusiastic that Ravel resolved to seek out other folk-songs, and promptly did so, some from Spain, some from Italy, some in Hebrew, and even one to a Scottish lyric by Robert Burns. These last-named were published together as Chansons populaires in 1908; the Greek songs had appeared in 1906. Calvocoressi, showing off his newly improved French, made the translations.* “Mastic” is a resin from trees found on Chios. Used in varnishes and lacquers, adhesives and in highway work, it is the principal export of Chios.

Six SongsSamuel Barber (born on March 8, 1910, in West Chester, Penn.; died in New York City on January 23, 1981)

A Nun Takes the VeilSleep Nowfrom Hermit Songs, Opus 29St. Ita’s VisionThe CrucifixionThe Praises of GodThe Monk and his Cat

Barber, long recognized as one of America’s premier composers of songs, once said that “it was in my blood,” and indeed his favorite aunt was the matchless contralto Louise Homer, who was a mainstay of the Metropolitan Opera until her retirement in 1932 and a guest in other major

opera houses in France and England as well, renowned for her sumptuous voice and her versatile musicality. Additionally, she was married to the gifted composer Sidney Homer for 52 years, and both of them took a great and productive interest in young Sam. He began composing at age 7 and managed to convince his parents, his father a prominent doctor, his mother an amateur pianist, that he did not want to disappoint them by not becoming a great athlete but that he would do his very best to write the finest music he could. His meteoric rise, after graduating from the Curtis Institute in Philadelphia and attracting the gratified attention of philanthropist Mary Louise Curtis Bok was further encouraged by such luminaries as Arturo Toscanini, Rosario Scalero and Barber’s lifelong friend and generous companion Gian-Carlo Menotti.As a composer of enduring songs and operas Barber had few peers, partly because he took great pains to choose impeccable poetry to set to music. In 1940 he published a group of four songs, the first of which, A Nun Takes the Veil, uses a delicately vaporous lyric by Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844-1889), the pioneering Victorian poet whose experiments with “sprung” rhythms in the English language even today are still the subject of scholarship and of much syntactic interest. The singer is in wistful mode; “I have desired to go where springs not fail, out of the swing of the sea.” That song, published in 1940, had been composed in 1937. The year before, 1936, Barber had produced three songs, Opus 10, to poems by James Joyce, the second of which is Sleep Now, dramatic and powerful as only Joyce can be. Barber was working in Rome, having been awarded the Prix de Rome by the American Academy, living in the splendid quarters of the centuries-old Villa Aurelia (“I love the gardens, the yellowed stone steps, the pines in the moonlight, if perhaps not so much the somewhat expatriated Harvard Club atmosphere created by the Academy’s other Fellows”). All in all it was a productive winter, and the Joyce settings pleased him. The tender first and last sections of Sleep Now enclose an agitated mid-section that relies on the anguished interval of a minor ninth.When Barber was mustered out of the Army shortly before the conclusion of World War II (on September of 1945, as the result of slightly impaired vision), he bought a house with his friend and fellow composer Gian-Carlo Menotti near Mount Kisco, New York, naming it “Capricorn,” for what reason I have never discovered. Never mind; Barber had finally found “a place in the country and a peaceful room with a piano where I can work.” And play bridge, and cook. His skills in the kitchen were well-known, especially his magic way with soups. He advanced the hope to his friend and biographer Nathan Broder that perhaps at his funeral some kind soul could scatter a few croutons over the casket.Always a conscientious worker, he turned out many of his finest scores in the next seven or eight years at Capricorn, among them the Second Symphony, the Capricorn Concerto, the Cello Concerto, Knoxville: Summer of 1915 and the Piano Sonata. In the early ’50s, a London recording firm began hounding him to conduct some orchestral sessions devoted to his major works, and since he had UNESCO duties — he had reluctantly agreed to become a member of its International Music Council in Paris in 1952 — he decided to combine the two and throw in a few days of vacation for good measure.The vacation time was to be spent in Ireland, searching out his Irish forebears and renewing acquaintance with the poetry of W. B. Yeats, thereby hoping to find a number of short lyrics to set to music. Of course he went to visit the grave of the poet, who had died in 1939, and was surprised to find it the only “Yeats” among a sea of “Barbers” of various relationships — uncles, cousins, sisters — all under plain headstones marked “Safe in the Arms of Jesus.” “They all knew where they were,” remarked Barber, “whereas Yeats’ small, solitary marker bore only the enigmatic inscription: ‘Cast a cold eye on life, on death: Horseman, pass by.’”

Barber found a number of literary anthologies containing anonymous Irish texts dating from the eighth to the thirteenth centuries, copies from writings by monks and religious scholars, often in the margins of the manuscripts they were rendering into Latin or illuminating in precious gold, gules (the brilliant heraldic scarlet), argent, azure and vert inks — their casual and mischievous marginalia almost certainly not meant to be seen by the Fathers Superior, as one can easily deduce from the healthy earthiness of subject. From these random collections Barber selected ten poems for his Hermit Songs.They are small poems, mostly — thoughts or observations that speak in straight-forward, droll and often surprisingly modern terms of the lives these men lived, close to nature, to animals, to each other and to God. Some are literal translations from the original Gaelic, while others were commissioned from such poets as W. H. Auden and Chester Kallman.Robin Flower in his book The Irish Tradition observes: “It was not only that these scribes and anchorites lived by the destiny of their dedication in an environment of wood and sea; it was because they brought into that environment an eye washed miraculously clear by a continual spiritual exercise by which they, the first in Europe, attained that strange vision of natural things in an almost unnatural purity.”A short recitativo introduces “St. Ita’s (or Ida, or Ites) Vision,” an ecstatic lullaby sung by a slightly mad but highly endearing holy-woman. The ancient lyric has been translated by Barber’s friend Chester Kallman. There was indeed a real-live Irish saint by that name who lived in the 9th century in Killeedy. Born in Waterford, she headed a community of religious women, all of whom bore witness to her unerring gift of prophecy and her uncanny ability to search out thieves. When at last she died of cancer, possibly in 577 A. D., chroniclers reported that her body’s left side had been gradually consumed by a beetle that grew to be the size of a pig, an understandable exaggeration given the era’s fascination with suffering, sanctity and the bizarre. Ita’s name-day has been celebrated on January 15 since 1953. Though she never learned to read or write, she managed to fashion her “vision” into the poetic form on which Barber bases his song: how she has miraculously borne the baby Jesus and is now cradling Him in her arms to that He will sleep, to Barber’s soothing lullaby rhythm. “I will take nothing from my Lord,” said she, “unless He gives me His Son from Heaven in the form of a Baby that I may nurse Him.” Spare, uncompromising intervals of the fourth and the fifth make up one of Barber’s most moving songs, The Crucifixion, a translation from the original Gaelic of Howard Mumford-Jones’s poetic collection of 12th-century lyrics, The Speckled Bird, published in 1946. Mumford-Jones (1892-1980) is today perhaps best remembered for a remark he made when he spoke at the dedication of the University of Wisconsin’s new library in 1954: “While it is true that we in this nation remain free to be idiots, it does not necessarily follow that we must all be idiotic in order to be free!” Barber’s piano accompaniment for this deeply spiritual song is based on an angular theme that evokes the haunting call of a seabird called the curlew, a shy coastal native with creamy white and light brown plumage and a long, slender bill, found throughout Ireland, its mournful cadences an eerie presence in the early morning mists. The Praises of God, a translation by W. H. Auden from the 11th century, is set to an accompaniment that combines leaping staccato notes in the piano part with awkwardly accented lines in the vocal line that culminate finally in joyful melismas, or ornamentally inflected syllables, most of them based on a particular plainsong, “Laudation sing!”It is of musical interest to remind ourselves that Barber does not use any time signatures in these songs, though biographer Nathan Broder believes that, given the almost spoken rhythms of the casual texts, this unusual practice actually helps rather than hinders the singer by not cluttering up the score with the hundreds of changes necessitated by more conventional notation.

Most popular of all the Hermit Songs is The Monk and his Cat, about a philosophical old scholar and his lazily stretching feline friend (“Pangur, white Pangur”), the two of them sharing their tranquil life together in perfect equanimity. The piano accompaniment seems occasionally to imitate the cat’s velvety pawings at the keyboard. This 9th- or 10th-century pavane is another translation by W. H. Auden. “Pangur” as the name for a cat seems to have come from a Welsh word pannys meaning a “fuller,” or the mercer’s workman who scours, whitens and stretches cloth. Jesus’ crucifixion garments by tradition were pure white (nothing could possibly be white enough, so the name seems poignantly appropriate). Hermit Songs was commissioned by and dedicated to Elizabeth Sprague Coolidge, the Chicago-born musical philanthropist (1864-1953) for use at her series of concerts at the Library of Congress in Washington, D. C. They were first performed there on October 30, 1953, sung by soprano Leontyne Price (for whose opulent voice Barber said they were specifically intended), with the composer at the piano. Mrs. Coolidge, who had herself been a fine pianist, chamber-ensemble participant and composer, was alas unable to attend (she died five days later) but the series of concerts she initiated has continued for many years, and the list of distinguished composers and artists she commissioned or aided indirectly seems almost endless.

Cantata, for soprano and piano accompanimentJohn Carter (born some time in 1937 in St. Louis; probably died in 1989 or 1891)Prelude, for piano soloRondo: Peter, go ring dem bellsRecitative: Sometimes I feel like a motherless childAir: Let us break bread togetherToccata: Ride on, King JesusJohn Carter may have purposely drawn a veil over the circumstances of his life. Certainly he was no publicity hound. We do not really know the date of his birth, and his death-date, too, is shrouded in doubtful shadows. Other nuggets of information about this African-American composer are almost equally difficult to find and hard to pry from the reluctant pages of history (as relayed by the Internet). The composer’s publishers, Peer Music and Southern, were unable to be of help.Apparently he came from St. Louis and was educated musically at Oberlin College, probably its Conservatory. He did not want for honors as he pursued his career, receiving awards and prizes from the Rockefeller Foundation, the American Music Center and ASCAP. He was for a year composer-in-residence with the National Symphony Orchestra of Washington, D.C. in 1968, the last year of Howard Mitchell’s tenure there as principal conductor. A bit later, in the ’70s, he taught at Federated City College in Washington, D.C. A program of his compositions seems to have been performed at the New York Public Library (though librarians there are still trying to extricate any facts about it). My friend the soprano Christine Brewer, whose powerful performance with pianist Craig Rutenberg of this seminal score introduced me to the music several years ago, writes that she believes Carter’s choice of Ride On, King Jesus as the final section was his musically re-active response to the Civil Rights movement. She adds, “And I love the way he sets the end of the song with that fiercely assertive reiteration of the words, ‘No man, no man, no man’ (seven times altogether) ‘can hinder me.’ There is a ferocious strength and conviction that is very appealing to me.” The marvelous incarnation of clanging bells in the Rondo, Peter, go ring dem bells by both the hard-working pianist and the necessarily inexhaustible singer, each in a different way, contrasts admirably with the intensely muted Sometimes I feel like a motherless child and the edgy energy of Let us break bread together.

Carter published his Cantata for Soprano in 1964. (An alternative version exists, with orchestral accompaniment.) It is based, like so much of his output, almost completely on spirituals. Other major works include Requiem Seditiosem, the choral threnody In Memoriam Medgar Evers (1925-1963) and Japanese Poems.

— Program annotations by Clair W. Van Ausdall

BiographiesJeanine De Bique (soprano)An artist of “dramatic presence and versatility,” (The Washington Post) soprano Jeanine De Bique is a member of the Staatsoper Wien ensemble throughout the 2011-12 season. The Arleen Auger Prize winner at the 2010 International Vocal Competition‘s-Hertogenbosch in The Netherlands, De Bique’s accolades have been rapidly accumulating: as finalist and study grant award recipient of the 2011 Metropolitan Opera National Council Auditions; winner of the 2009 Gerda Lissner Vocal Competition in New York; and as the 2010 Borse di Studio Prize winner at the Premio Spiros Argiris 11th International Competition for Young Opera Singers in Sarzana, Italy, among others.Appearances with orchestras this season include Brahms’s Requiem with the Munich Philharmonic under the baton of Lorin Maazel, with whom she made her New York Philharmonic debut singing Mahler’s Symphony No. 8 at Avery Fisher Hall; Mahler’s Resurrection Symphony No. 2 with the World Doctor’s Orchestra at Strathmore; as well as appearances with the Edmonton (Alberta) and Amarillo (Texas) symphonies. Last season, she appeared as soloist with the Louisville and Sarasota orchestras; the New Jersey and Charlotte (NC) symphonies; as well as the Orchestra della svizzera italiana in Lugano, Switzerland.De Bique performs in recital this season at the Macomb Center for the Performing Arts (Mich.), University of Florida Performing Arts and in Alabama, Connecticut and the Virgin Islands. First Prize Winner of the in the 2008-09 Young Concert Artists International Auditions and the Paul A. Fish First Prize, De Bique debuted in the YCA Series with recitals at Merkin Concert Hall in New York and the Kennedy Center in Washington, D.C. Other notable recital appearances include the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in Boston and the Mondavi (Calif.) and Washington (Wash.) Centers for the Performing Arts.As artist-in-residence with the Basel Opera in Switzerland during the 2009-10 season, De Bique sang “Kate Pinkerton” in Madama Butterfly, “Barberina” in Le nozze di Figaro and “Sophie” in Werther. Other operatic performances have included the title role in Monteverdi’s L’Incoronazione di Poppea; “La Princesse” in Ravel’s L’enfant et les sortileges at the Chautauqua Music Program, “the Woman of the River” in Tarik O’Regan’s Heart of Darkness with American Opera Projects, covering the role “Yum Yum” in Gilbert and Sullivan’s The Mikado as a Gerdine Young Artist with the Opera Theatre of St. Louis; and in the premiere of Paul Brantley’s On the Pulse of Morning with the Manhattan School of Music Philharmonic. She has toured Eastern Europe and Russia as “Clara” in Gershwin’s Porgy and Bess at the Milkhailovsky Theater with the Russian Philharmonic, at Teatre Wielki in Poland and the Badminton Center in Greece. In the opera studio at the Manhattan School of Music, she performed the title role in Handel’s Semele; “Lauretta” in Puccini’s Gianni Schicchi; “Sister Constance” in Poulenc’s Les Dialogues des Carmelites; and “Girl” in Bernstein’s Trouble in Tahiti.

Born in Trinidad and Tobago, De Bique earned her bachelor’s degree in 2006, her master’s degree in 2008 and her professional studies certificate in 2009 at the Manhattan School of Music. De Bique received a study grant from the Licia Albanese-Puccini Foundation in 2006, and has participated in master classes with Renee Fleming, Marilyn Horne, Catherine Malfitano, Thomas Hampson and Mirella Freni.

Christopher Cano (piano)A seasoned recitalist and orchestra soloist, pianist Christopher Cano has performed with the Tucson Symphony Orchestra, the Tucson Civic Orchestra, the Southern Arizona Symphony Orchestra, the Catalina Chamber Orchestra and the University of Arizona Symphony Orchestra. Recital appearances have been in Europe, across the U.S., Mexico, Israel and the Far East. Cano has won numerous awards, including the Green Valley Scholarship Competition, Emilio Osta Scholarship Competition, Tucson Symphony Orchestra Young Artist Competition and is a recipient of the Theodore Presser Scholarship. He is also a two-time winner of the University of Arizona President’s Concert Concerto Competition. Cano made his recording debut with The Catalina Chamber Orchestra in an acclaimed performance of Shostakovich’s Piano Concerto No.1, Op.35. As a collaborative artist, he has played in the master classes of the late Fedora Barbieri, the late Anna Moffo, Lauren Flannigan, Martin Katz, Craig Rutenberg and Suzanne Mentzer. Cano has also played for the master classes of Marilyn Horne in New York City at Carnegie Hall. As a studio pianist, Cano has had the distinct privilege of working with some of the great artists and teachers of singing including Marilyn Horne, Sherrill Milnes, Luciano Pavarotti, Marni Nixon, Patricia McCaffrey, Joan Patenaude-Yarnell, Rita Shane and Diana Soviero. Cano has performed as a guest soloist and chamber musician at the Killington Music Festival in Vermont, the Alamos Music Festival of Sonora, Mexico and has participated as a pianist at the International Vocal Arts Institute in Tel Aviv, Israel. Cano has been a member of the music staff at the Festival Lyrique en Mer in Belle Isle, France, Toledo Opera, San Diego Opera, Utah Festival Opera, Opera Company of North Carolina, Florida Grand Opera and Opera Theatre of Saint Louis. Cano has served on the faculties of The Intermezzo Music Festival, Manhattan School of Music Summer Voice Institute and V.O.I.C.Experience, a summer program for promising young singers in Florida under the administrative and artistic direction of Maria Zouves and renowned baritone Sherrill Milnes, respectively. Recent recital appearances include collaborations with some of today’s most promising young vocal talent, including Jennifer Welch-Babidge, Jossie Perez, Wendy Bryn Harmer, Elaine Alvarez, Timothy Mix and Young Concert Artists winners Jeanine DeBique and Jennifer Johnson Cano. A native of Southern Arizona, Cano holds a bachelor’s and master’s of music degree in piano performance from the University of Arizona, where his teachers included the late Ozan Marsh, Nicholas Zumbro, Dr. Paula Fan and Rex Woods. Cano and his wife, mezzo-soprano Jennifer Johnson Cano currently reside in New York City, where he was a full-scholarship student in the professional studies program of vocal accompanying at the Manhattan School of Music. He currently serves on the vocal coaching staff of that institution where he was a student of renowned pianist Warren Jones.