Ria Patel
Don Parker, guitar
Mia Janosik, mezzo-soprano
Abigail Miller, clarinet
Shazza Lyons, saxophone
Miguel Velarde, bass
Wesley Shafer, drums
Sabine Klein, collaborative piano
Tuesday, April 22, 2025
7:30 pm
Recital Hall
Tempestad grande, amigo from Vendado es amor, no es ciego (1755)
Don Parker, guitar
Con amores, la mi madre (1921)
José de Nebra (1702–1768)
La regata veneziana (1878)
Anzoleta avanti la regata
Anzoleta co passa la regata
Anzoleta dopo la regata
Clairières dans le ciel (1914)
Les lilas qui avaient fleuri
Deux ancolies
Sabine Klein, piano
Fernando Obradors (1897–1945)
Presentation of the Rose from Der Rosenkavalier (1911)
Mia Janosik, mezzo-soprano
Sabine Klein, piano
Gioachino Rossini (1792–1868)
Lili Boulanger (1893–1918)
Richard Strauss (1864–1949)
Arthur Bliss (1891–1975)
APRIL 22, 2025, 7:30 PM
The Ballad of Jane Doe from Ride the Cyclone (2008)
I Feel Foolish (2022)
Sabine Klein, piano
Brooke Maxwell (b.1974)
Jacob Richmond (b. 1974)
Caity Gyorgy (b. 1998)
Don Parker, guitar
Miguel Velarde, bass
Wesley Shafer, drums
Consuelo Velázquez (1916–2005)
Harold Arlen (1905–1986)
Sammy Rae & The Friends
Sammy Rae & The Friends
Abigail Miller, clarinet
Shazza Lyons, saxophone
Don Parker, guitar
Miguel Velarde, bass
Wesley Shafer, drums
STUDENT
This recital is presented as a degree requirement for a Bachelor of Music in music performance.
Soprano Ria Patel performs repertoire spanning centuries, countries, and genres. She is a senior music performance major and a Spanish minor studying with Heidi Moss-Erickson at University of the Pacific. Patel sings lead soprano in Pacific Vocal Jazz Ensemble, is a section leader in Pacific Singers, and most recently played Carrie in Carousel with Pacific Opera Theatre. She also serves as co-chair of the Conservatory DEI Committee and Treasurer of Mu Phi Epsilon. Patel grew up singing Hindustani classical music.
Nebra: Tempestad grande, amigo
Tempestad grande, amigo
Tempestad grande, amigo, se armó en la selva, Muchas más tempestades
Arman las suegras
Dicen que contra Anquises
La enjergó Venus,
Más que quiso el chiquillo, Pegarle un perro.
¡Ay, qué Brújula, ¡Ay, qué páparo!
Que es tu Títiro, es mi zángano
Y en bailando este son fandanguítico
Se les da de estos ruidos un rábano
Las dos diosas hoy llegan a empelazgarse,
Con ser ambas vecinas, tienen bastante
Como dueñas del monte traban pendencias,
Que dueñas no se ponen cual digan dueñas.
Que ira mientra al templo nos refugiamos
Para alivio del susto
Vaya un fandango!
—José de Canizares
Nebra: A Grand Storm, My Friend
A grand storm, my friend
A grand storm, my friend, has formed in the jungle.
A mother-in-law has stirred
Many such a storm
They say that Venus
Started an affair with Anchises, but the boy only wanted
To trick her.
Oh, Brújula! Oh, what a clown, Is Títiro, he’s my lazy one!
And in dancing, they are one with the fandango
They couldn’t care less about the noises of the world
The two goddesses start to cause trouble,
With them being neighbours, they have had enough.
As heiresses of the mountain, they quarrel
These ladies are not acting as they say heiresses do.
What anger, while we take refuge at the temple
To find relief from fright, Let us dance a fandango!
—trans. Ria Patel, Callie McCarthy
Obradors: Con amores, la mi madre
Con amores, la mi madre
Con amores, la mi madre, con amores me dormí;
Así dormida soñaba lo que el corazón velaba, que el amor me consolaba con más bien que merecí.
Adormecióme el favor que amor me dió con amor;
Dió descanso a mi dolor
La fe con que le serví
Con amores, la mi madre, Con amores me dormí!
—Juan de Anchieta
Rossini: Anzoleta avanti la regata
Là su la machina xe la bandiera
Varda, la vedistu, vala a ciapar.
Co quela tornime in qua sta sera, O pur a sconderte ti pol andar.
In pope, Momolo, no te incantar.
Va, voga d’anema la gondoleta
Nè el primo premio te pol mancar, Va là, recordite la to Anzoleta
Che da sto pergolo te sta a vardar.
In pope, Momolo, no te incantar, Cori a svolar.
—Count Carlo Pepoli
Obradors: With love my mother
With love, my mother
With love, my mother, with love I fell asleep;
Asleep I dreamt of that which the heart veils, that love consoled me with more good than I deserved.
The help that love gave me lulled me to sleep, with love; It gave rest to my pain
The faith with which I served it
With love, my mother, With love I fell asleep.
—trans. Ria Patel
Rossini: Angelina before the regatta
There on the "machina" is the flag, Look, can you see it? Go for it!
Come back with it tonight
Or else you can run away and hide.
Once in the boat, Momolo, don't gawp!
Row the gondola with heart and soul, Then you cannot help but win the first prize.
Go, think of your Anzoleta, Who's watching you from this balcony.
Once in the boat, Momolo, don't gawp! Once in the boat, Momolo, fly!
—trans. Paolo Montanari
Rossini: Anzoleta co passa la regata
I xe qua, i xe qua, vardeli, vardeli, Povereti i ghe da drento, Ah contrario tira el vento, I gha l'acqua in so favor.
El mio Momolo dov'elo?
Ah lo vedo, el xe secondo.
Ah! che smania! me confondo, A tremar me sento el cuor.
Su, coragio, voga, voga, Prima d'esser al paleto
Se ti voghi, ghe scometo, Tutti indrio ti lassarà.
Caro, caro, par che el svola, El li magna tuti quanti Meza barca l'è andà avanti, Ah capisso, el m'a vardà.
—Count Carlo Pepoli
Rossini: Anzoleta dopo la regata
Ciapa un baso, un altro ancora, Caro Momolo, de cuor; Qua destrachite che xe ora
De sugarte sto sudor.
Ah t'o visto co passando
Su mi l'ocio ti a butà E go dito respirando:
Un bel premio el ciaparà,
Sì, un bel premio in sta bandiera, Che xe rossa de color;
Gha parlà Venezia intiera, La t'a dito vincitor.
Ciapa un baso, benedeto, A vogar nissun te pol, De casada, de tragheto
Ti xe el megio barcarol.
—Count Carlo Pepoli
Rossini: Angelina during the regatta
They're coming, they're coming, look at them, The poor things!, they row hard! Ah, the wind is against them, But the tide is running their way.
My Momolo, where is he?
Ah! I see him, he's the second, Ah! I'm in a fidget! I get confused, I feel my heart trembling.
Come on, row!, row!,
Before you reach the pole, If you keep on rowing, I'll lay a bet You'll leave all the others behind.
Dear boy, he seems to be flying, He's beating the others hollow, He's gone half a length ahead, Ah, I understand: he looked at me. —trans. Paolo Montanari
Rossini: Angelina after the regatta
Have a kiss!, another one!, Dear Momolo, from my heart; Rest here, for it's high time To dry this sweat.
Ah, I saw you when, as passing, You threw a glance at me
And I said, breathing again: He's going to win a good prize,
Indeed, the prize of this flag, That is the red one; The whole Venice spoke: She declared you the winner.
Have a kiss, God bless you!, No one rows better than you, Of all the breeds of gondoliers You're the best.
—trans. Paolo Montanari
Boulanger: Les lilas qui avaient fleuri
Les lilas qui avaient fleuri l’année dernière
Vont fleurir de nouveau dans les tristes parterres.
Déjà le pêcher grêle a jonché le ciel bleu
De ses roses, comme un enfant la Fête-Dieu.
Mon cœur devrait mourir au milieu de ces choses
Car c’était au milieu des vergers blancs et roses
Que j’avais espéré je ne sais quoi de vous.
Mon âme rêve sourdement sur vos genoux.
Ne la repoussez point. Ne la relevez pas
De peur qu’en s’éloignant de vous elle ne voie
Combien vous êtes faible et troublée dans ses bras.
—Francis Jammes
Boulanger: The lilacs which had flowered last year
The lilacs which had flowered last year
Shall flower again in melancholy beds.
Already the slender peach has strewn the blue sky
With its pinks, like a child at Corpus Christi.
My heart should die amid these things,
For it was amid the orchard’s whites and pinks
That I had hoped from you I know not what.
My soul dreams secretly upon your lap.
Do not reject it. Do not raise it up, For fear that drawing away from you it might see
How frail you are and troubled in its arms.
—trans. Richard Stokes
Boulanger: Deux ancolies
Deux ancolies se balançaient sur la colline
Et l’ancolie disait à la sœur l’ancolie:
Je tremble devant toi et demeure confuse.
Et l’autre répondait: Si dans la roche qu’use
l’eau, goutte à goutte, si je me mire, je vois
Que je tremble, et je suis confuse comme toi.
Le vent de plus en plus les berçait toutes deux,
Les emplissait d’amour et mêlait leurscœurs bleus.
—Francis Jammes
Boulanger: Two columbines
Two columbines swayed on the hill
And one columbine said to its sister columbine:
I tremble before you and am abashed. And the other replied: if in the rock, worn away
Drop by drop with water, I observe myself, I see
That I tremble, and feel, like you, abashed.
The wind rocked both of them with increasing might, Filled them with love and mingled their blue hearts.
—trans. Richard Stokes
Strauss: Presentation of the Rose
Octavian: Mir ist die Ehre wiederfahren daß ich der hoch- und wohlgeborenen Jungfer Braut, in meines Herrn meines Vetters Namen, dessen zu Lerchernau Namen die Rose seiner Liebe überreichen darf.
Sophie: Ich bin Euer Liebden sehr verbunden. Ich bin Euer Liebden in aller Ewigkeit verbunden. Hat einen starken Geruch. Wie Rosen, wie lebendige.
Octavian: Ja, ist ein Tropfen persischen Rosenöls darein getan.
Sophie: Wie himmlische, nicht irdische, wie Rosen vom hochheiligen Paradies. Ist Ihm nicht auch?
Ist wie ein Gruss vom Himmel. Ist bereits zu stark, als dass mans ertragen kann. Zieht einen nach, als lägen Stricke um das Herz. Wo war ich schon einmal und war so selig?
Octavian: Wo war ich schon einmal und war so selig?
Sophie: Dahin muss ich zurück! und müsst’ ich völlig sterben auf dem Weg! Allein ich sterb’ ja nicht. Das ist ja weit.
Ist Zeit und Ewigkeit in einem sel’gen Augenblick, den will ich nie vergessen bis an meinen Tod.
Octavian: Ich war ein Bub’, da hab’ ich die noch nicht gekannt. Wer bin denn ich? Wie komm’ denn ich zu ihr?
Strauss: Presentation of the Rose
Octavian: To me has fallen the honor of presenting to the highborn bride, in the name of my cousin of Lerchernau, the rose of his love.
Sophie: I am most obliged to your Lordship
I am eternally obliged to your Lordship
It has a strong scent of roses: real ones!
Octavian: Yes, there’s a drop of Persian attar of roses in it.
Sophie: Like roses of heaven, not of earth—like roses of holy paradise Don’t you think so?
It’s like a greeting from heaven. ‘Tis already too strong to bear. It draws one as though there were reins around one’s heart
Where and when have I been so happy?
Octavian: Where and when have I been so happy?
Sophie: I must return there, yes, even if I should die on the way! But I shall not die. That is far away. There’s time and eternity
In this moment of bliss, and I’ll not forget it til I die.
Octavian:
I was boy, and did not know her yet. Who am I then? How is it that I come to her?
Wie kommt denn sie zu mir? Wär’ ich kein Mann, die Sinne möchten mir vergehn. Das ist ein seliger Augenblick, den will ich nie vergessen bis an meinen Tod.
—Hugo von
Hofmannsthal
How is it that she comes to me? Were I not a man, then I should lose my senses. And I’ll not forget it til I die.
—trans. anonymous
Bliss: The Ragwort
The thistles on the sandy flats Are courtiers with crimson hats; The ragworts, growing up so straight, Are emperors who stand in state, And march about, so proud and bold, In crowns of fairy-story gold.
The people passing home at night Rejoice to see the shining light; They quite forgot the sands and sea Which are as grey as grey can be, Nor even heard the gulls who cry Like peevish children in the sky.
Bliss: The Dandelion
The dandelion is brave and gay And loves to sit beside the way; A braver thing was never seen, To praise the grass for growing green; You never saw a gayer thing, To sit and smile and praise the spring.
The children with their simple hearts, The lazy men that come in carts, The little dogs that lollop by, They all have seen its shining eye, Any every one of them would say They never saw a thing so gay.
—Frances Cornford
Gyorgy: I Feel Foolish
I feel foolish, can't you see?
Yes, I'm staring at my shoes praying that you'll choose little ol' me I feel foolish, can't you tell?
Yes, I'm speaking made-up words all because you, sir, put me in a spell
And over time I've realized I need to stare into your eyes if you were gonna see the real me
But over time I've realized that that requires some compromise 'tween confidence and diffidence in me
So I'll feel foolish, yes I will
Until I can reach your gaze, speak a simple phrase that demands some skill
So practice, I will
And before you know it say goodbye to my aloofness, I won't feel so foolish anymore
—Caity Gyorgy
Velázquez: Besame Mucho
Bésame, bésame mucho como si fuera esta noche la ultima vez. Bésame, bésame mucho que tengo miedo a perderte, perderte después.
Quiero tenerte muy cerca mirar me en tus ojos verte junto a mi.
Piensa que tal vez mañana yo ya estaré lejos muy lejos de ti.
—Consuelo Velazquez
Velázquez: Kiss Me a Lot
Kiss me, kiss me a lot
As if tonight were the last time. Kiss me a lot
For I'm scared to lose you, lose you again.
I want to have you close Look at myself in your eyes
See you together with me. I think that maybe tomorrow I will already be far away Very far away from you.
—trans. Anonymous
Arlen: Over the Rainbow
When all the world is a hopeless jumble
And the raindrops tumble all around, Heaven opens a magic lane. When all the clouds darken up the skyway
There's a rainbow highway to be found, Leading from your window pane
To a place behind the sun, Just a step beyond the rain.
Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high, There's a land that I heard of once in a lullaby. Somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue, And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true.
Someday I'll wish upon a star and wake up where the clouds are far behind me. Where troubles melt like lemon drops away above the chimney tops, That's where you'll find me.
Somewhere over the rainbow, bluebirds fly. Birds fly over the rainbow; why, then, oh why can't I?
—Yip Harburg
Sammy Rae & The Friends: Flesh and Bone
Today would have been the perfect day to go to the beach
I'm on the sofa trying to get over a hate speech
We do not love ourselves the way the prophets teach
Even Jesus kept his feelings like a lamp in the dark
Until he flipped the tables over up in the market
Oh, Mother, there are lamps but there are sparks
But I need to know
I don't need to be shown
I've gotta see it for myself
I've gotta learn it on my own
I need to know if I am flesh and bone
And am I still growing or full grown?
She's coming up for the rising like the dark before dawn
She has come to a place and she feels like her love's gone
She has come of an age and a line should be drawn
He's walking around in a tank top getting caught in a bluff
Little boys do not cry, don't you think that you're hot stuff?
It's real tough when your daddy don't call you enough
Striking matches to watch 'em burn in my childhood bedrooms
Little time, little water and light, little seed, every bud blooms
And I've been striking matches to watch 'em burn
In my childhood bedroom, ooh
Little time, little water and light, little seed, every bud blooms, oh
There are days I need to tell myself I'm doing alright
My inner child and my ego got caught up in a knife fight
I get nervous, and then I will get out of sight
'Cause everybody I came up with says that I'm going too slow, whoa Oh, but it's cool though
And I can hear my people when I check out the show I feel real low.
—Samantha Bowers
Sammy Rae & The Friends: Coming Home Song
Authority
issues
I wish you would listen to somebody
Even yourself every once in a while
Take some initiative
Wish you’d start walking the walk
Baby, how do you talk to your poor inner child?
Cut off your hair if it’s too long
Write yourself a coming home song
Learn from the things that you’ve done wrong
Leave a light on for yourself
There’s no saints in the stars
There are no signs in the ceiling
You get a good feeling just go with it
I’m tryna help ya, if ya don’t want my perspective then
Why don’t you get yourself over it?
Cut off your hair if it’s too long
Write yourself a coming home song
Learn from the things that you’ve done wrong
Leave a light on for yourself
Doing all right, ain’t a damn crime
Feeling at all for the first time
Just getting into your prime
Leave a light on for yourself
I was falling
And I picked me up, and I picked me up
See I was falling
And I picked me up, and I picked me up
Cut off your hair if it’s too long
Write yourself a coming home song
Learn from the things that you’ve done wrong
Leave a light on for yourself
Pick up your friends without delay
And cut yourself down in the same day
Won’t you quit getting in your own way?
Leave a light on…
I was falling
And I picked me up, and I picked me up
—Samantha Bowers, Will Leet
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