Mia Janosik
Sabine Klein, piano
Katie Pelletier, soprano
Ria Patel, soprano
Thursday, April 24, 2025
7:30 pm
Recital Hall
Pur ti miro from L’incoronazione di Poppea (1651)
Katie Pelletier, soprano
Eichendorff-Lieder (1889)
Der Musikant
Verschwiegene Liebe
Das Ständchen
Die Zigeunerin
Elfenlied (1888)
Four Night Songs (1977)
Holding the Night
Frosty Night
Through the Centuries
Separation
Faites-lui mes aveux from Faust (1859)
Cinq mélodies populaires grecques (1904–1906)
Chanson de la mariée
Là-bas, vers l’église
Quel galant m’est comparable
Chanson des cueilleuses de lentisques
Tout gai!
Flight (1992)
Ria Patel, soprano
Claudio Monteverdi (1567–1643)
Hugo Wolf (1860–1903)
Hugo Wolf (1860–1903)
Madeleine Dring (1923–1977)
Charles Gounod (1818–1893)
Maurice Ravel (1875–1937)
Craig Carnelia (b. 1949)
This recital is presented as a degree requirement for a Bachelor of Music in music performance.
Mezzo-soprano Mia Janosik is a senior studying voice with Professor Daniel Ebbers at University of the Pacific. Throughout her studies, Janosik has performed in a variety of ensembles, including Pacific Opera Theatre, Pacific Singers, Varied Ensembles, and a multitude of student compositions. Most recently, she has been seen on stage as Nettie (Carousel) and Ruggiero (Alcina). After graduating, Janosik looks forward to discovering unique musical opportunities in her community as well as pursuing her interest in arts administration.
Monteverdi: Pur ti miro
Pur ti miro, pur ti godo, Pur ti stringo, pur t'annodo,
Più non peno, più non moro, O mia vita, o mio tesoro!
Lo son tua, tuo son io, Speme mia, di llo, dì.
Tu sei pur l'idolo mio.
Sì, mio ben, sì mio cor, Mia vita, sì!
—Giovanni Francesco Busenello
Eichendorff-Lieder:
Der Musikant
Wandern lieb’ ich für mein Leben, Lebe eben wie ich kann, Wollt ich mir auch Mühe geben, Passt es mir doch gar nicht an.
Schöne alte Lieder weiss ich; In der Kälte, ohne Schuh, Draussen in die Saiten reiss ich, Weiss nicht, wo ich abends ruh’.
Manche Schöne macht wohl Augen, Meinet, ich gefiel ihr sehr, Wenn ich nur was wollte taugen, So ein armer Lump nicht wär.
Mag dir Gott ein’n Mann bescheren, Wohl mit Haus und Hof verseh'n!
Wenn wir zwei zusammen wären, Möcht mein Singen mir vergeh'n.
—Joseph von Eichendorff
Monteverdi: I’m fixed on you I’m fixed on you, I revel in you, I cling to you, I’m bound to you, I’m no longer in pain, no longer dying, Oh, my life, oh, my treasure! I am yours, yours am I, My hope, admit it, speak. You are also my idol. Yes, my idol, yes, my heart, My life, yes!
—trans. Laura Prichard
Eichendorff-Lieder:
The Minstrel
I simply love to wander, And live as best I can, And were I to exert myself, It wouldn’t suit at all.
Beautiful old songs I know, Barefoot out in the cold I pluck my strings, Not knowing where I’ll rest at night.
Many a beauty gives me looks, Says she’d fancy me, If I’d make something of myself, Were I not such a beggar wretch.
May God give you a husband, Well provided with house and home! If we two were together, My singing might fade away. —trans. Richard Stokes
Eichendorff-Lieder:
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 von Eichendorff
Eichendorff-Lieder:
Das Ständchen
Auf die Dächer zwischen blassen
Wolken schaut der Mond herfür, Ein Student dort auf den Gassen Singt vor seiner Liebsten Tür.
Und die Brunnen rauschen wieder
Durch die stille Einsamkeit, Und der Wald vom Berge nieder, Wie in alter, schöner Zeit.
So in meinen jungen Tagen
Hab ich manche Sommernacht
Auch die Laute hier geschlagen
Und manch lust’ges Lied erdacht.
Aber von der stillen Schwelle
Trugen sie mein Lieb zur Ruh’—
Und du, fröhlicher Geselle, Singe, sing nur immer zu!
—Joseph von Eichendorff
Eichendorff-Lieder:
Secret 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
Eichendorff-Lieder:
The Serenade
The moon from pallid clouds
Gazes out across the roofs, There in the street a student sings Before his sweetheart’s door.
And again the fountains murmur
In the silent loneliness, And the woods on the mountain Murmur, as in the good old days.
Likewise in my young days, Often on a summer’s night
I too plucked my lute here, And composed some merry songs.
But from that silent threshold
My love’s been taken to rest— And you, my blithe friend, Sing on, just sing on!
—trans. Richard Stokes
Eichendorff-Lieder: 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 von Eichendorff
Eichendorff-Lieder: 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: Elfenlied
Bei Nacht im Dorf der Wächter rief: “Elfe!”
Ein ganz kleines Elfchen im Walde schlief—
Wohl um die Elfe!
Und meint, es rief ihm aus dem Tal
Bei seinem Namen die Nachtigall, Oder Silpelit hätt ihm gerufen. Reibt sich der Elf die Augen aus, Begibt sich vor sein Schneckenhaus, Und ist als wie ein trunken Mann, Sein Schläflein war nicht voll getan, Und humpelt also tippe tapp
Durchs Haselholz ins Tal hinab, Schlupft an der Mauer hin so dicht, Da sitzt der Glühwurm, Licht an Licht.
Wolf: Elf Song
The village watch cried out at night: “Eleven!”
An elfin elf was asleep in the wood— Just at eleven!
And thinks the nightingale was calling Him by name from the valley, Or Silpelit had sent for him. The elf rubs his eyes, Steps from his snail-shell home, Looking like a drunken man, Not having slept his fill, And hobbles down, tippety tap, Through the hazels to the valley, Slips right up against the wall, Where the glow-worm sits, shining bright.
“Was sind das helle Fensterlein?
Da drin wird eine Hochzeit sein: Die Kleinen sitzen beim Mahle, Und treibens in dem Saale; Da guck ich wohl ein wenig ’nein!”
Pfui, stösst den Kopf an harten Stein!
Elfe, gelt, du hast genug? Gukuk! Gukuk!
—Eduard Mörike
Dring: Holding the Night
Holding the night in the palm of my hand
Feeling it’s blackness as the wind streams
To the edge of the gulf
To fall through unknown trees
This moment has always been ours
When the tips of our fingers touch
Enclosing the gift of a hidden moon
Floating beyond the clouds.
“What bright windows are these? There must be a wedding inside: The little folk are sitting at the feast, And skipping round the ballroom; I’ll take a little peek inside!”
Shame, he hits his head on hard stone! Elf, don’t you think you’ve had enough? Cuckoo! Cuckoo!
—trans. Richard Stokes
—Michael Armstrong
Dring: Frosty Night
Stars rain like pebbles out of the sky
And sputter the roof with sparks of frost
The night’s black moat encircles my house
The doors are bolted, the windows barred
I’ve made it safe from the brilliant eye
That burns inside a plumage of ice.
—Michael Armstrong
Dring: Through the Centuries
Through the centuries I have held your hand
Whispered your name as the wind in the trees
Nothing remembered and nothing forgotten
Each time it was different, each time the same
Our meetings renewed a secret joy
Our farewells destroyed what we understood Today was a greeting, tomorrow a parting
Our sun was a brilliance that died in our evening
What did we learn and what did we know?
What became usual and what became strange?
Our coming together made thoughts that were growing
Our drifting apart an end to their thinking
Through the centuries I have held your hand
Whispered your names as the wind in the trees
Nothing remembered and nothing forgotten
Each time it was different, each time the same.
—Michael Armstrong
Dring: Separation
Out in the dark night the birds are asleep
And you too are sleeping out of my reach
Held only in my thoughts
Of all things in the world
I love you most
But I cannot get near you
And you remain unknown
My love is waiting here for you
To pick up and wear like a warm garment
At least enclose yourself within its folds
If only to keep out the cold.
—Michael Armstrong
Gounod: Faites-lui mes aveux
Faites-lui mes aveux, portez me voeux!
Fleurs écloses près d’elle,
Dites-lui qu’elle est belle,
Que mon coeur, nuit et jour, Languit d’amour
Faites-lui mes aveux, portez me voeux!
Révélez à son âme
Le secret de ma flamme,
Qu’il s’exhale avec vous
Parfums plus doux!
Fanée! hélas!
ce sorcier que Dieu damne
M’a porté malheur!
Je ne puis, sans qu’elle fane,
Toucher une fleur.
Si je trempais mes doigts
Dans l’eau bénite!
C’est là que chaque soir
Vient prier Marguerite!
Voyons maintenent! Voyons vite!
Elles se fanent? Non!
Satan, je ris de toi!
C’est en vous que j’ai foi,
Parlez pour moi!
Qu’elle puisse connaître
L’émoi qu’elle a fait naître,
Et dont mon coeur troublé
N’a point parlé!
C’est en vous que j’ai foi,
Parlez pour moi!
Si l’amour l’éffarouche
Que la fleur sur sa bouche
Sache au moins déposer
Un doux baiser!
Un baiser, un doux baiser!
—Jules Barbier, Michel Carré
Gounod: Make Her My Confession
Make her my confession; carry my wishes!
Blooming flowers near her,
Tell her that she is beautiful,
That my heart, night and day,
Languishes with love!
Make her my confession; carry my wishes!
Reveal to her soul
The secret of my flame,
So it exhales with you
Perfumes more sweet!
Wilted! Alas!
The sorcerer whom God damns Has brought me bad luck!
I can’t, without it’s withering
Touch a flower.
If I dip my fingers
Into holy water!
It’s there that each evening
Marguerite comes to pray!
Let’s see now! Let’s see quickly!
Do they wilt? No!
Satan, I laugh at you!
It is in you that I have faith,
Speak for me!
May she know
The emotion which she has caused to be born,
And of which my troubled heart
Has scarcely spoken!
It is in you that I have faith,
Speak for me!
If love alarms her
May the flower on her mouth
Try at least to deposit
A sweet kiss!
A kiss, a sweet kiss!
—trans. Lea Frey
Ravel: Chanson de la mariée
Réveille-toi, réveille-toi, perdrix mignonne, Ouvre au matin tes ailes.
Trois grains de beauté, mon cœur 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!
—Michel-Dimitri Calvocoressi
Ravel: Là-bas, vers l’église
Là-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!
—Michel-Dimitri Calvocoressi
Ravel: Quel galant m’est comparable
Quel 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!
—Michel-Dimitri Calvocoressi
Ravel: Chanson des cueilleuses de lentisques Ô joie de mon âme, Joie de mon cœur, Trésor qui m’est si cher; Joie de l’âme et du cœur,
Toi que j’aime ardemment, Tu es plus beau qu’un ange.
Ravel: Song of the Bride
Wake up, wake up, pretty partridge, Spread your wings to the morning, Three beauty spots, and my heart's ablaze!
See the golden ribbon I bring you To tie around your tresses. If you wish, my beauty, let us marry! In our two families all are related!
—trans. Richard Stokes
Ravel: Down There by the Church
Down there by the church, By the church of Saint Sideros, The church, O Holy Virgin, The church of Saint Constantine, Are gathered together, Buried in infinite numbers, The bravest people, O Holy Virgin, The bravest people in the world!
—trans. Richard Stokes
Ravel: What gallant can compare with me?
What gallant can compare with me? Among those seen passing by?
Tell me, Mistress Vassiliki?
See, hanging at my belt, Pistols and sharp sword... And it's you I love!
—trans. Richard Stokes
Ravel: Song of the Lentisk Gatherers
O joy of my soul, Joy of my heart, Treasure so dear to me; Joy of the soul and of the heart, You whom I love with passion, You are more beautiful than an angel.
Ô lorsque tu parais,
Ange si doux
Devant nos yeux,
Comme un bel ange blond, Sous le clair soleil,
Hélas, tous nos pauvres cœurs soupirent!
—Michel-Dimitri Calvocoressi
Ravel: Tout gai!
Tout gai! gai, Ha, tout gai!
Belle jambe, tireli, qui danse; Belle jambe, la vaisselle danse, Tra la la la la…
—Michel-Dimitri Calvocoressi
Carnelia: Flight
Oh when you appear, Angel so sweet,
Before our eyes,
Like a lovely, blond angel
Under the bright sun,
Alas, all our poor hearts sigh!
—trans. Richard Stokes
Ravel: So Merry!
So merry, ah, so merry!
Lovely leg, tireli, that dances; Lovely leg, the crockery dances, Tra la la la la…
—trans. Richard Stokes
Let me run through a field in the night, Let me lift from the ground ‘til my soul is in flight
Let me sway like the shade of a tree,
Let me swirl like a cloud in a storm on the sea. Wish me on my way, through the dawning day.
I wanna flow, wanna rise, wanna spill, Wanna grow in a grove on the side of a hill.
I don’t care if the train runs late, If the checks don’t clear, if the house blows down. I’ll be off where the weeds run wild, Where the seeds fall far from this earthbound town. And I’ll start to soar. Watch me rain ‘til I pour.
I’ll catch a ship that’ll sail me astray, Get caught in a wind I’ll just have to obey ‘Til I’m flying away Ah, ah, ah…
Let me leave behind all the clouds in my mind.
I wanna wake without wondering why, Finding myself in a burst for the sky
High, I’ll just roll. Let me lose all control.
I wanna float like a wish in a well, Free as the sound of the sea in a shell.
I don’t know, but maybe I’m just a fool. I should keep to the ground. I should stay where I’m at. Maybe ev’ryone has hunger like this, And the hunger will pass. But I can’t think like that. All I know is somewhere, Through a clearing, There’s a flickering of sunlight
On a river long and wide, And I have such a river inside.
Let me run through a field in the night, Let me life from the ground ‘til my soul is in flight Let me sway like the shade of a tree, Let me swirl like a cloud in a storm on the sea. Wish me on my way, through the dawning day.
I wanna flow, wanna rise, wanna spill, Wanna grow on the side of a hill. Wanna shift like a wave rollin’ on. Wanna drift from the path I’ve been trav’ling upon, Before I am gone.
—Craig Carnelia