Senior Voice Recital, Sam Perrego 12.06.2023

SENIOR VOICE RECITAL

Sam Perrego, soprano

Patricia Grimm, piano

Wednesday, December 6, 2023 7:30 pm Recital Hall

46TH PERFORMANCE OF 2023–24 ACADEMIC YEAR

DECEMBER 6, 2023, 7:30 PM Il mio bel foco—Quella fiamma

Francesco Bartolomeo Conti (c. 1681–1732)

Vedrai, carino from Don Giovanni (1787)

Wolfgang Amadè Mozart (1756–1791) Stefano Donaudy (1879–1925)

Ah, mai non cessate from Arie di stile antico, Vol. I (1918) Patricia Grimm, piano

Nachtwanderer, op. 7, no. 1 (1847)

Fanny Mendelssohn Hensel (1805–1847)

Florence Price (1887–1953)

An April Day (1949) (I’ve Got) Beginner’s Luck (1937)

George Gershwin (1898–1937) Ira Gershwin (1896–1983)

I see, she flies me (1692)

Henry Purcell (1659–1695)

Flowers from Hadestown (2006)

Anaïs Mitchell (b. 1981)

Patricia Grimm, piano

This recital is presented as a degree requirement for a Bachelor of Music in Music Education.

Sam Perrego is a senior pursuing a Bachelor of Music degree in music education at University of the Pacific where studied voice with Virginia Kelsey and Eric Dudley. After graduation she plans to pursue a career as a public and private music educator, as well as in technical theater.

TEX TS AND TRANSL ATIONS Marcello: Il mio bel foco—Quella fiamma Il mio bel foco, O lontano o vicino ch’esser poss’io, Senza cangiar mai tempre per voi, Care pupille, ardera sempre.

My beautiful fire—That flame

Quella fiamma che m’accende Piace tanto all’alma mia, Che giammai s’estinguerà.

E se il fato a voi mi rende, Vaghi rai del mio bel sole, Altra luce ella non vuole Nè voler giammai potrà.

—anonymous

That flame which kindled me has pleased my soul, so that it will never extinguish.

And if fate returns me to you, lovely rays of my beautiful sun, she does not want another light Nor is she able to want.

Mozart: Vedrai, carino Vedrai, carino, se sei buonino, Che bel rimedio ti voglio dar. È naturale, non da disgusto, E lo speziale non lo sa far. È un certo balsamo che porto addosso.

Dare tel posso, se il vuoi provar.

Saper vorresti dove mi sta?

Sentilo battere, toccami qua.

—Lorenzo da Ponte

You will see, my dear You will see, my dear, if you are good, What a nice remedy I want to give.

It’s natural, not disgusting, and the apothecary can’t do it.

It’s a certain balm I have on me.

I can give it to you, if you want to try it.

Would you like to know where it is?

Feel it beat, touch me here.

Donaudy: Ah, mai non cessate Ah, mai non cessate dal vostro parlar, O labbra desiate ondi’o folle vo’ Col miel delle vostre parole vo’ far Un dolce guanciale su cui dormiró.

Ah, never cease Ah, never cease your talk, oh desired lips which I madly want, With honeyed words I want to make A sweet pillow on which I will sleep.

O sonni beati niun mai sognati

Oh blessed sleep no one has ever dreamed That sleeping on this pillow I will make, Sleeping and dreaming, close to your heart, The sweet, desired dream of love.

Ah! Sleeping and dreaming of love!

che su quel guanciale dormendo faró, Dormendo e sognando, vicino al tuo cor, Il dolce, desiato mio sogno d’amor.

Ah! Dormendo e sognando d’amor!

—Alberto Donaudy

My beautiful fire, either as far or as close as I might be, never changing for you, dear eyes, it will always burn.

TEX TS AND TRANSL ATIONS Hensel: Nachtwanderer Ich wandre durch die stille nacht, Da schleicht der Mond so heimlich sacht Oft aus der dunkeln Wolkenhülle.

Und hin und her im Tal, Erwacht die Nachtigall Dann wieder alles grau, Alles grau und stille.

O wunderbarer Nachtgesang, Von fern im Land der Ströme Gang, Leis Schauern in den dunkeln Bäumen Irrst die Gedanken mir, Mein wirres Singen hier Ist wie ein Rufen nur aus Träumen.

Mein Singen ist ein Rufen, ein Rufen nur aus Träumen.

—Joseph von Eichendorff

Night Wanderer I wander through the still night, The moon creeps so secretly, gently, often out of the dark clouds.

And here and there in the valley, Awakens the nightingale Then again all is gray, All is gray and still.

Oh wonderful nightsong, From distant lands of rushing rivers, and quiet shuddering in the dark trees my thoughts are wrong, my confused singing here Is like a calling from dreams.

My singing is a calling, A calling from dreams.

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