Student Recital Series
2023 – 2024 Season
Sara M. Snell Music Theater Sunday, October 22nd at 12 PM Samantha Yetter, mezzo-soprano
Eliana Barth, piano
Voyage à Paris (Banalités) Francis Poulenc (1899-1963)
Madrid
Canción de la infanta Pauline Viardot (1821-1910)
Schwanenlied Fanny Mendelssohn (1805-1847)
Night Florence Price
Dawn’s Awakening (1887-1953)
Que fais-tu, blanche tourterelle (Roméo et Juliette) Charles Gounod (1818-1893)
I Remember ( Evening Primrose) Stephen Sondheim (1930-2021)
It’s Been a Long, Long Time Jule Styne (1905-1994)
For the First Time in Forever
(Frozen: The Broadway Musical )
Dedicated to Mom, Terri Yetter
Samantha Yetter is in the studio of Dr. Katie Burnha m and Dr. Lorraine Yaros -Sullivan.
Kristen Anderson-Lopez (b. 1972)
Robert Lopez (b. 1975)
Voyage à Paris
French: Guillaume Apollinaire
English: Richard Strokes
Ah! la charmante chose quitter un pays morose pour Paris
Paris joli
qu’un jour dut créer l’amour
Madrid
French: Alfred de Musset
English: Richard Strokes
Madrid, princesse des Espagnes, il court par tes mille campagnes bien des yeux bleus, bien des yeux noirs. la blanche ville aux serenades, il passe par tes promenades bien des petits pieds tous les soirs.
Madrid, quand tes taureaux bondissent, bien des mains blanches applaudissent, bien des echarpes sont en jeux. par tes belles nuits etoilees, bien des senoras long voilees descendent tes escaliers bleus.
Madrid, Madrid, moi, je me raille de tes dames a fine taille qui chaussent l'escarpin etroit; car j'en sais une par le monde que jamais ni brune ni blonde n'ont valu le bout de son doigt!
car c'est ma princesse andalouse, mon amoureuse, ma jalouse ! ma belle veuve au long reseau! c'est un vrai demon, c'est un ange! elle est jaune, comme une orange, elle est vive comme l'oiseau!
or, si d'aventure on s'enquete
Oh! how delightful to leave a dismal place for Paris charming Paris that one day love must have made oh! how delightful
Madrid, princess of Spanish lands, many blue eyes, many dark eyes can be seen on your thousand fields. many dainty feet tread each evening along the walks of your white town, famed for its serenades.
Madrid, when your bulls rampage, many a white hand applauds, many scarves are waved. On your beautiful starry nights, many a senora with long veils descends your blue stairs.
Madrid, Madrid, I mock your slim-waisted ladies who wear narrow dancing shoes; for there’s no brunette or blonde in all the world who’s worth the fingertips of a lady I know!
for she is my Andalusian princess, my lover, my jealous one! my beautiful, well-connected widow! she’s a real demon, she’s an angel! she’s as yellow as an orange, she’s as lively as a bird!
now, if by chance people wonder
qui m'a valu telle conquete, c'est l'allure de mon cheval, un compliment sur sa mantille puis des bonbons a la vanille par un beau soir de carnaval.
Canción de la Infanta
English Translation: Lorena Paz Nieto
Hablando estaba la reina en su palacio real con la infanta de Castilla, Princesa de Portugal. ay! que malas penas! ay! que fuerte mal!
allí vino un caballero con grandes lloros llorar: nuevas te traigo, senora, dolorosas de contar.
ay! que malas penas! ay! que fuerte mal!
ay, no son de reyno estrano, de aquí son, de Portugal. vuestro príncipe, senora, vuestro príncipe real ay! que malas penas! ay! que fuerte mal!
es caído de un caballo, el alma quiere a Dios dar. si le queredes ver vivo, no queredes detardar. ay! que malas penas! ay! que fuerte mal!
allí esta el Rey su padre, que quiere desesperar. lloran todas las mujeres casadas y por casar. ay! que malas penas! ay! que fuerte mal!
how I achieved such a conquest, I reply: because of my handsome horse, the way I praised her mantilla, the vanilla sweets I gave her on a beautiful carnival evening.
The queen was speaking in her Royal Palace. with the Infanta of Castile, the Princess of Portugal. oh! what terrible pain! oh! what awful woe!
there came a knight with great tears in his eyes: "news I bring you, my lady, so painful to tell” oh! what terrible pain! oh! what awful woe!
“oh, it is not from a far off kingdom, it’s from here, from Portugal. your prince, my lady, your royal prince” oh! what terrible pain! oh! what awful woe!
“he has fallen from a horse, he wants to give his soul to God. if you want to see him alive, you must not delay” oh! what terrible pain! oh! what awful woe!
there is the King, his father, who is in despair. all the women are crying, both the married and the unmarried. oh! what terrible pain! oh! what awful woe!
Schwanenlied
German: Heinrich Heine
English Translation: Bernard van Dieren
Es fallt ein stern herunter aus seiner funkelnden Hoh, das ist der stern der liebe, den ich dort fallen seh.
es fallen von apfelbaume der weissen blatter so viel, es kommen die neckenden Lufte und treiben damit irh Spiel.
es singt der schwan im weiher, und rudert auf und ab, und immer leiser singend, taucht er ins flutengrab.
es ist so still und dunkel, verweht ist blatt und blut, der stern ist knisternd zerstoben, verklungen das schwanenlied
A star falls down from its shimmering heights, it is the star of love, that I see falling there. from the apple trees fall so many white pedals, the teasing breezes come and plays with-them their game.
the swan is singing in the pond and paddles up and down, and the singing ever softer, it dives into the watery depths.
it is so still and dark, leaf and flower have been blown away, the star has-been sputtered and scattered, faded-away the song-of-the-swan.
Que fais-tu, blanche tourterelle
French: Jules Barbier and Michel Carre
English: Martha Gerhart
Depuis hier je cherche en mon maí tre!
Est-il encore chez vous, messeigneurs capulet?
voyons un peu si vos dignes valets a ma voix ce matin oseront reparaí tre!
que fais -tu, blanche tourterelle, d ans ce nid de vautours?
quelque jour, de ployant ton a í le, tu suivras les amours!
aux vautours, il faut la bataille :
p our frapper d'estoc et de taille, leurs becs sont aiguise s!
laisse la ces oiseaux de proie, tourterelle qui fais ta joie des amoureux baisers!
gardez bien la belle!
qui vivra vedra !
votre tourterelle! vous e chappera!
u n ramier, loin du vert bocage, p ar l'amour attire , a l'entour de ce nid sauvage
a, je crois, soupire !
les vautours sont a la cure e,
leurs chansons qui fuit cythe re e re sonnent a grand bruit!
cependant, en leur douce ivresse
n os amants content leur tendresse
aux astres de la nuit!
Since yesterday I’ve been searching in vain for my master! is he still at your house, my lords Capulet? well now, let’s see if your worthy servants will dare to reappear this morning at my voice!
what are you doing, white turtledove, in that nest of vultures? one day, spreading your wings, you will follow love!
to vultures battle is necessary: to thrust and cut their beaks are whetted. leave those birds of pretty there, turtledove, who find your joy in amorous kisses! guard the beautiful girl well! time will tell!
your turtledove will escape from you!
a wood-pigeon far from the green grove, allured by love, around that savage nest has, I believe, sighed! the vultures are at the spoils; their songs, which Cytherea flees, resound boisterously! meanwhile, in their sweet ecstasy our lovers recount their tenderness to the stars of the night!