Charlize Price
Patricia Grimm, collaborative piano
Wednesday, April 30, 2025
7:30 pm
Recital Hall
Sweeter Than Roses (1695) Henry Purcell (1659–1695)
Piangerò la sorte mia from Giulio Cesare (1724) George Fredric Handel (1685–1759)
Eichendorff-Lieder (1889)
Verschwiegene Liebe Die Zigeunerin
Six Lieder für eine Frauenstimme (1877–1882)
Mausfallen-sprüchlein
Er Ist's (1888)
Le colibri (1882)
Le charme (1879)
Enfant, si j'étais roi (1844)
Oh quand je dors (1842)
Hugo Wolf (1860–1903)
Ernest Chausson (1855–1899)
Franz Liszt (1811–1886)
Night (1946) Florence B. Price (1887–1953)
This recital is presented as a degree requirement for a Bachelor of Music in music performance.
Charlize Price, soprano, is a fourth-year transfer student from Modesto Junior College. At University of the Pacific, she is majoring in vocal performance studying with Professor Daniel Ebbers. She has found her love for opera, classical, and musical theatre works through her time at Pacific. Most recently she has played the role of Julie Jordan in Pacific Opera Theatre’s production of Carousel. Price is also an established singer/songwriter in the Central Valley.
“Never stop being the person you are and fulfill your dreams. Never stop doing what you are doing, live your life to the fullest and never stop reaching for the sun.”
—Brandon
Persiani (2003–2020)
Purcell: Sweeter than Roses
Sweeter than roses, or cool evening breeze
On a warm flowery shore, was the dear kiss, First trembling made me freeze, Then shot like fire all o’er. What magic has victorious love!
For all I touch or see since that dear kiss, I hourly prove, all is love to me.
—Richard Norton
Handel: Piangerò la sorte mia
E pur così in un giorno perdo fasti, e grandezze? Ahi fato rio!
Cesare il mio bel nume è forse estinto; Cornelia, e Sesto inermi son, né sanno darmi soccorso. O dio!
Non resta alcuna speme al viver mio.
Piangerò la sorte mia
sì crudele e tanto ria finché vita in petto avrò.
Ma poi morta d'ogn'intorno il tiranno e notte e giorno fatta spettro agiterò.
—Nicola Francesco Haym
Handel: I will mourn my fate
So it is that in one day I lose both splendor and grandeur?
Ah cruel fate!
Caesar, my beautiful god, may be dead; Cornelia and Sesto are powerless and do not know how to help me. O god! No hope remains in my life.
I shall weep over my cruel fate so long as there remains life in my breast.
But once I have perished, I shall become a ghost and torment that tyrant from all directions, day and night.
—trans. Andrew Schneider
Wolf: liebe
Verschwiegene liebe
Über Wipfel und Saaten
In den Glanz hinein— Wer mag sie erraten, Wer holte sie ein?
Gedanken sich wiegen, Die Nacht ist verschwiegen, Gedanken sind frei.
Errät es nur eine, Wer an sie gedacht
Beim Rauschen der Haine, Wenn niemand mehr wacht
Als die Wolken, die fliegen— Mein Lieb ist verschwiegen
Und schön wie die Nacht.
—Joseph Freiherr von Eichendorff
Wolf: Die Zigeunerin
Am Kreuzweg da lausche ich, wenn die Stern’
Und die Feuer im Walde verglommen, Und wo der erste Hund bellt von fern, Da wird mein Bräut’gam herkommen.
La, la, la—
"Und als der Tag graut', durch das Gehölz Sah ich eine Katze sich schlingen, Ich schoss ihr auf den nussbraunen Pelz, Wie tat die weit überspringen!
Ha, ha, ha!“
Schad’ nur ums Pelzlein, du kriegst mich nit!
Mein Schatz muss sein wie die andern: Braun und ein Stutzbart auf ung’rischen Schnitt,
Und ein fröhliches Herze zum Wandern.
La, la, la…
—Joseph Freiherr von Eichendorff
Wolf: Silent love
Silent love
Over treetops and cornfields Into the gleaming light— Who may guess them, Who catch them up?
Thoughts go floating, The night is silent, Thoughts are free.
If only she could guess, Who has thought of her
In the rustling groves, When no one else is awake
But the scudding clouds—
My love is silent And lovely as night.
—trans. Richard Stokes
Wolf: The Gypsy Girl
At the crossroads I listen, when the stars
And fires in the wood have faded, And where, afar, the first dog barks, From there my bridegroom will come. La, la, la—
“And at dawn, through the copse, I saw a cat slinking, I fired a shot at her nut-brown coar, How that made her jump!
Ha, ha, ha!”
A shame about the coat, you won’t catch me!
My sweetheart must be like the others: Swarthy, with a beard of Hungarian trim, And a happy heart for wandering.
La, la, la…
—trans. Richard Stokes
Wolf: Mausfallen-sprüchlein
Mausfallen-sprüchlein
Kleine Gäste, kleines Haus.
Liebe Mäusin oder Maus, Stelle dich nur kecklich ein
Heute nacht bei Mondenschein!
Mach aber die Tür fein hinter dir zu, Hörst du?
Dabei hüte dein Schwänzchen!
Nach Tische singen wir, Nach Tische springen wir
Und machen ein Tänzchen; Witt witt!
Meine alte Katze tanzt wahrscheinlich mit.
—Eduard Friedrich Mörike
Wolf: Er Ist’s Frühling lässt sein blaues Band
Wieder flattern durch die Lüfte; Süße, wohlbekannte Düfte
Streifen ahnungsvoll das Land. Veilchen träumen schon, Wollen balde kommen.
Horch, ein Harfenton!
Frühling, ja du bist’s!
Dich hab ich vernommen!
—Eduard Friedrich Mörike
Wolf: Mousetrap Incantation
Mousetrap incantation
Little guests, little house. Dear Mrs. or Mr. Mouse, Just drop boldly by Tonight in the moonlight! But be sure to close the door behind you, Do you hear?
And watch out for your tail!
After supper we’ll sing, After supper we’ll leap And dance a little dance; Witt witt!
My old cat might well dance with us too.
—trans. Richard Stokes
Wolf: Spring is Here Spring sends its blue banner Fluttering on the breeze again; Sweet, well-remembered scents Drift propitiously across the land. Violets dream already, Will soon begin to bloom.
Listen, the soft sound of a distant harp! Spring, that must be you!
It’s you I’ve heard!
—trans. Richard Stokes
Chausson: Le Colibri
Le vert colibri, le roi des collines, Voyant la rosée et le soleil clair
Luire dans son nid tissé d'herbe fines, Comme un frais rayon s'échappe dans l'air.
Il se hâte et vole au source voisines, Où les bambous font le bruit de la mer; Où l'açoka rouge, aux odeurs divines, S'ouvre, et porte au cœur un humide éclair.
Vers la fleur dorée il descend, se pose, Et boit tant d'amour dans la coupe rose,
Qu'il meurt, ne sachant s'il l'a pu tarir.
Sur ta lèvre pure, ô ma bien-aimée, Telle aussi mon âme eut voulu mourir
Du premier baiser qui l'a parfumée!
—Charles Marie René Leconte de Lisle
Chausson: Le Charme
Quand ton sourire me surprit,
Je sentis frémir tout mon être;
Mais ce qui domptait mon esprit, Je ne pus d'abord le connaître.
Quand ton regard tomba sur moi, Je sentis mon âme se fondre;
Mais ce que serait cet émoi, Je ne pus d'abord en répondre.
Ce qui me vainquit à jamais,
Ce fut un plus douloureux charme, Et je n'ai su que je t'aimais
Qu'en voyant ta première larme!
—Paul-Armand Silvestre
Chausson: The Hummingbird
The green hummingbird, the king of the hills,
On seeing the dew and gleaming sun Shine in his nest of fine woven grass, Darts into the air like a shaft of light. He hurries and flies to the nearby springs, Where the bamboos sound like the sea; Where the red hibiscus with its heavenly scent, Unveils the glint of dew at its heart. He descends, and settles on the golden flower, Drinks so much love from the rosy cup, That he dies, not knowing if he’d drunk it dry.
On your pure lips, O my beloved, My own soul too would sooner have died From that first kiss which scented it!
—trans. Richard Stokes
Chausson: The Charm
When your smile caught me unawares, I felt my whole being shiver; But what was taming my spirit, I did not at first know. When your gaze fell on me, I felt my soul melt; But what this emotion was I could not at first tell.
That which conquered me for ever Was a more sorrowful charm, And I only knew that I loved you
Upon seeing your first tear!
—trans. Thomas A. Gregg
Liszt: Enfant, si j'étais roi
Enfant, si j’étais roi, je donnerais l’empire, Et mon char, et mon sceptre, et mon
Peuple à genoux,
Et ma couronne d’or, et mes bains de porphyre,
Et mes flottes, à qui la mer ne peut suffire,
Pour un regard de vous!
Si j’étais Dieu, la terre et l’air
Avec les ondes,
Les anges, les demons, courbés devant ma loi,
Et le profond chaos aux entrailles fécondes,
L’éternité, l’espace et les cieux et les mondes,
Pour un baiser de toi!
—Victor Hugo
Liszt: Oh! quand je dors
Oh! quand je dors, viens auprès de ma couche,
Comme à Pétrarque apparaissait Laura, Et qu’en passant ton haleine me touche…
Soudain ma bouche s’entr’ouvrira!
Sur mon front morne où peut-être s’achève
Un songe noir qui trop longtemps dura,
Que ton regard comme un astre se lève…
Et soudain mon rêve rayonnera!
Puis sur ma lèvre où voltige une flamme,
Éclair d’amour que Dieu même épura, Pose un baiser, et d’ange
Deviens femme…
Soudain mon âme
S’éveillera!
—Victor Hugo
Liszt: Child, if I were king
Child, if I were king, I’d give my realm,
And my chariot and my sceptre and my Prostrate people,
And my golden crown and my porphyry baths,
And my fleets that the ocean cannot contain,
For a single look from you!
If I were God, I’d give the earth and the air, and the waves,
The angels, the devils, bowed before my law,
And the fertile womb of profound chaos, Eternity, space, and the heavens and the worlds,
For a single kiss from you!
—trans. Richard Stokes
Liszt: Ah, while I sleep
Ah, while I sleep, come close to where I lie,
As Laura once appeared to Petrarch,
And let your breath in passing touch me…
At once my lips will part!
On my somber brow, where a dismal dream
That lasted too long now perhaps is ending,
Let your countenance rise like a star…
At once my dream will shine!
Then on my lips, where a flame flickers,
A flash of love which God himself has purified,
Place a kiss and be transformed from angel Into woman…
At once my soul Will wake!
—trans. Richard Stokes
F. B. Price: Night
Night comes, a Madonna clad in scented blue.
Rose red her mouth and deep her eyes, She lights her stars, and turns to where, Beneath her silver lamp the moon, Upon a couch of shadow lies
A dreamy child, The wearied day.
C. Price: Silver
Faces passing
Lines are blurring
A streak of silver Into me
Stain my veins
Staining my veins
Mind is racing
Tracks are flooding Can’t control it
Once it’s reached my lungs
Blood on my hands
Blood on my hands
Console me like you
Never meant to hurt me baby
Hurt me baby
Rusty old silver on the Linoleum tile
Trying to Pick up the pieces
Of my silver heart
Bleeding internal your love is eternal
I wish it didn’t hurt to hold you.
—Louise C. Wallace
—Charlize Price
C. Price: Bright as the Sun
It’s hard to live a day without Thinking of you
I have so many questions You’ll never answer to
You know how hard it is
For me to handle things like this alone
Why aren’t you home?
For the rest of my life I’ll wonder what I could Have done
To keep you from feeling so alone
Bright as the sun
You had so much you could have done
And we all tried to see your doubts Hidden in your heart
I have so many questions A soul broke in two Where are you
You know how hard it is
For me to handle things like this alone
Why aren’t you home?
For the rest of my life I’ll wonde what I could Have done
To keep you from feeling so alone Bright as the sun
You had so much you could have done.
—Charlize Price
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