J a k e L y l e
B a r i t o n e
Finals Program
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
Hai già vinta la causa!… Vedrò mentr’io sospiro
Le nozze di Figaro
5.00
Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky
(Net, tolko tot, kto znal)
Six Romances for Voice and Piano, Op. 6 No. 6
3.00
Erich Wolfgang Korngold Mein Sehnen, mein Wähnen
Die tote Stadt
5.00
Robert Schumann
Die beiden Grenadiere
Romanzen und Balladen II, Op. 49 4.00
Camille Saint-Saëns
Danse Macabre
Op. 40 3.00
Hai già vinta la causa!... Vedrò mentr'io sospiro
Opera: Le nozze di Figaro
Composer: Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756–1791)
Librettist: Lorenzo Da Ponte (1749–1838)
Date: 1786
This scena occurs in Act III of Le nozze di Figaro at the moment Count Almaviva realises that his servants may successfully outwit him. What initially appears to be an outburst of jealousy quickly reveals itself as something deeper: a man confronting the collapse of the social order upon which his identity depends. Based on Beaumarchais’ controversial play, The Marriage of Figaro challenged eighteenth-century assumptions about class, privilege and power. Only a few years before the French Revolution, Mozart and Da Ponte placed an aristocrat at the centre of a comedy in which servants repeatedly prove themselves more intelligent and morally grounded than their master. The Count’s fury is fuelled not merely by romantic betrayal, but by humiliation Throughout the scena, anger gives way to paranoia, wounded pride and ultimately a desperate determination to regain control. Mozart mirrors these emotional shifts with astonishing psychological insight, moving seamlessly between elegance, volatility and bitterness. Far more than a display piece, this scena is one of opera’s great portraits of a powerful man watching authority slip through his fingers
Hai già vinta la causa! Cosa sento!
In qual laccio io cadea? Perfidi! Io voglio... Di tal modo punirvi... A piacer mio la sentenza sarà... Ma s'ei pagasse la vecchia pretendente?
Pagarla! In qual maniera! E poi v'è Antonio, che a un incognito Figaro ricusa di dare una nipote in matrimonio. Coltivando l'orgoglio di questo mentecatto...
Tutto giova a un raggiro... il colpo è fatto.
Vedrò mentre io sospiro, felice un servo mio!
E un ben ch'invan desio, ei posseder dovrà?
Vedrò per man d'amore unita a un vile oggetto chi in me destò un affetto che per me poi non ha?
Ah no, lasciarti in pace, non vo' questo contento, tu non nascesti, audace, per dare a me tormento, e forse ancor per ridere di mia infelicità. Già la speranza sola delle vendette mie quest'anima consola, e giubilar mi fa.
You've already won the case! What do I hear! Into what trap had I fallen? Treacherous ones! I want
To punish you in such a way The sentence shall be mine to decide But if he were to pay the old claimant?
Pay her! With what money! And then there is Antonio, who refuses to give his niece in marriage to an unknown Figaro Encouraging the pride of this half-wit... Everything helps the deception... the trick is done.
Shall I see, while I sigh, a servant of mine happy! And a prize I desire in vain, he shall possess?
Shall I see, through the hand of love, joined to a lowly object she who awakened feelings in me and now has none for me?
Ah no, to leave you in peace, I do not wish you that satisfaction, you were not born, bold fellow, to give me torment, and perhaps even to laugh at my unhappiness
Already the thought alone of my revenge consoles this soul, and fills me with delight
Song Collection: Six Romances, Op. 6 No. 6
Composer: Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (1840–1893)
Poet: Lev Mei (1822–1862), after Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749–1832)
Date: 1869
This beloved romance sets Lev Mei’s Russian adaptation of Goethe’s poem from Wilhelm Meister ’s Apprenticeship. Associated with the mysterious figure of Mignon, the text speaks of profound emotional isolation and the loneliness of longing for something forever out of reach. Unlike much Romantic poetry, which often embraces grand gestures and dramatic excess, the poem derives its power from simplicity. Its central idea is devastatingly direct: only those who have suffered deep longing can truly understand another ’s pain. Tchaikovsky responds with extraordinary restraint. Rather than relying on virtuosity or theatrical display, he allows the melody to unfold naturally, supported by a gently expressive accompaniment. The result is music of remarkable intimacy and sincerity. The song remains one of Tchaikovsky’s most cherished works because it captures a universal human experience: the desire to be understood in moments when words seem inadequate. Its emotional power lies not in grandeur, but in honesty.
Нет, тольк о тот, к то знал
Свиданья, жажду,
Поймёт, к ак я страдал
И к ак я стражду.
Гляж у я вдаль... нет сил, Тускнеет ок о...
Ах, к то меня любил
И знал - далек о!1
Вся грудь горит... Кто знал
Свиданья жажду,
Поймёт, к ак я страдал
И к ак я стражду.
No, only he who has known the longing for reunion can understand how I have suffered and how I suffer still.
I gaze into the distance… my strength has left me, my eyes grow dim… Ah, the one who loved me and knew me is far away!
My whole heart burns… Only he who has known the longing for reunion can understand how I have suffered and how I suffer still.
Mein Sehnen, mein Wähnen
Opera: Die tote Stadt
Composer: Erich Wolfgang Korngold (1897–1957)
Librettist: Paul Schott - a collective pseudonym for the composer and his father, Julius Korngold (1860-1945)
Date: 1920
Korngold’s Die tote Stadt is a work haunted by memory. Set in the city of Bruges and inspired by Georges Rodenbach’s symbolist novel Bruges-la-Morte, the opera explores grief, obsession and the inability to release the past. In this aria, Fritz reflects on the elusive nature of happiness. The text suggests that longing itself may endure more powerfully than fulfilment; that human beings often cling more tightly to dreams than to reality. The music unfolds with sweeping lyricism and bittersweet nostalgia, creating an atmosphere suspended between hope and melancholy. Premiered in 1920, shortly after the devastation of the First World War, the opera resonated deeply with audiences grappling with collective grief and uncertainty. Korngold’s sumptuous harmonic language captures both beauty and sorrow simultaneously, allowing memory to appear as something comforting yet ultimately unattainable. Although composed by a twenty-three-year-old, the aria displays remarkable emotional maturity. It stands as a meditation on desire, illusion and the seductive power of what can never quite be possessed.
Mein Sehnen, mein Wähnen, es träumt sich zurück.
Im Tanze gewann ich, verlor ich mein Glück. Im Tanze am Rhein, bei Mondenschein, gestand mirs aus Blau-aug ein inniger Blick, Gestand mirs ihr bittend Wort: o bleib, o geh mir nicht fort, bewahre der Heimat still blühendes Glück
Mein Sehnen, mein Wähnen, es träumt sich zurück. Zauber der Ferne warf in die Seele den Brand, Zauber des Tanzes lockte, ward Komödiant. Folgt ihr, der Wundersüssen, lernt unter Tränen küssen. Rausch und Not, Wahn und Glück: Ach, das ist Gauklers Geschick.
Mein Sehnen, mein Wähnen, es träumt sich zurück.
My longing, my dreaming, dreams itself back. In dancing I won, lost was my happiness. In dancing by the Rhine, in the moonlight, a tender glance from blue eyes confessed to me, confessed to me in pleading words: O stay, oh do not go away from me, preserve for your homeland its quietly blooming happiness
My longing, my dreaming, dreams itself back. The magic of distance cast a fire into my soul, the magic of dance lured me, and I became a player. Follow her, the wondrous sweet one, learn to kiss through tears. Ecstasy and sorrow, delusion and happiness: ah, such is the performer's fate.
My longing, my dreaming, dreams itself back.
Die beiden Grenadiere
Song Collection: Romanzen und Balladen II, Op. 49
Composer: Robert Schumann (1810–1856)
Poet: Heinrich Heine (1797–1856)
Date: 1840
Composed during Schumann’s celebrated “Year of Song” in 1840, Die beiden Grenadiere recounts the return of two French soldiers defeated in Napoleon’s disastrous Russian campaign. Having endured imprisonment and hardship, they learn that their Emperor has fallen What begins as a simple ballad gradually reveals itself as a powerful study of loyalty, nationalism and identity. One soldier mourns not his suffering, but Napoleon’s downfall, demonstrating how completely his sense of self has become tied to an idealised leader. Heine’s poem is often interpreted as both patriotic and ironic. While it acknowledges the nobility of devotion, it also questions the dangers of hero worship and blind allegiance Schumann amplifies these tensions through dramatic shifts in mood, moving from intimate storytelling to grand declamation. The song culminates with a quotation of La Marseillaise, the French national anthem. Whether heard as a triumphant gesture or a tragic illusion, the moment is electrifying. The result is one of the nineteenth century’s most compelling narrative songs: a work that examines the thin line between courage, loyalty and obsession.
Nach Frankreich zogen zwei Grenadier ’ , Die waren in Russland gefangen
Und als sie kamen ins deutsche Quartier, Sie liessen die Köpfe hangen
Da hörten sie beide die traurige Mär:
Dass Frankreich verloren gegangen, Besiegt und geschlagen das tapfere Heer
Und der Kaiser, der Kaiser gefangen. Da weinten zusammen die Grenadier ’ Wohl ob der kläglichen Kunde
Der eine sprach: „Wie weh wird mir, Wie brennt meine alte Wunde!“
Der andre sprach: „Das Lied ist aus, Auch ich möcht mit dir sterben, Doch hab’ ich Weib und Kind zu Haus, Die ohne mich verderben.“
„Was schert mich Weib, was schert mich Kind, Ich trage weit bess’res Verlangen; Lass sie betteln gehn, wenn sie hungrig sind
Mein Kaiser, mein Kaiser gefangen!
„Gewähr mir, Bruder, eine Bitt’: Wenn ich jetzt sterben werde, So nimm meine Leiche nach Frankreich mit, Begrab mich in Frankreichs Erde „Das Ehrenkreuz am roten Band Sollst du aufs Herz mir legen; Die Flinte gib mir in die Hand, Und gürt mir um den Degen.
„So will ich liegen und horchen still, Wie eine Schildwach, im Grabe, Bis einst ich höre Kanonengebrüll Und wiehernder Rosse Getrabe
„Dann reitet mein Kaiser wohl über mein Grab, Viel Schwerter klirren und blitzen; Dann steig ich gewaffnet hervor aus dem Grab Den Kaiser, den Kaiser zu schützen!“
Two grenadiers marched toward France, having been captured in Russia
And when they entered German territory, they hung their heads low
There they heard the sorrowful news: that France had been defeated, its brave army beaten and crushed, and the Emperor, the Emperor captured. Then the two grenadiers wept together at the miserable tidings
One of them said: "How my old wound burns!"
The other replied: "The song is over I too would gladly die with you, but I have wife and child at home, who would perish without me."
"What care I for wife, what care I for child? I carry far nobler desires. Let them go begging if they are hungry, my Emperor, my Emperor is captive! "Grant me, brother, one request: if I should now die, take my body back to France, and bury me in French soil.
"The cross of honour on its red ribbon you shall place upon my heart. Put my rifle in my hand, and gird me with my sword
"Thus I shall lie and listen silently, like a sentry in the grave, until one day I hear the thunder of cannon and the galloping of horses
"Then my Emperor will ride over my grave, many swords will clash and flash. Then I shall rise armed from the grave to protect my Emperor, my Emperor!"
Danse macabre
Op. 40
Poem: Danse macabre
Composer: Camille Saint-Saëns (1835–1921)
Poet: Henri Cazalis (1840–1909)
Date: 1874
Written in 1874, Danse macabre draws upon the medieval European tradition of the “Dance of Death”, an allegory that emerged during times of plague, war and social upheaval. In Cazalis’ poem, Death appears at midnight, violin in hand, summoning the dead from their graves to dance until dawn. Kings, peasants, priests and labourers all join the revelry, stripped of rank and status beneath Death’s command. Saint-Saëns transforms this grotesque vision into a miniature drama of extraordinary theatrical power. The piano evokes rattling skeletons, tolling bells and frenzied movement, while the vocal line shifts between narration and direct proclamation. Beneath the poem’s dark humour lies a profound truth: mortality is the one force that renders all human beings equal. What makes Danse macabre so enduring is its ability to balance terror with exhilaration. Death is not portrayed as a tragedy, but as an irresistible force of nature. The result is a work that is at once macabre, witty and strangely life-affirming.
Zig et zig et zig, la mort en cadence Frappant une tombe avec son talon, La mort à minuit joue un air de danse, Zig et zig et zag, sur son violon
Le vent d’hiver souffle, et la nuit est sombre, Des gémissements sortent des tilleuls; Les squelettes blancs vont à travers l’ombre Courant et sautant sous leurs grands linceuls,
Zig et zig et zig, chacun se trémousse, On entend claquer les os des danseurs, Un couple lascif s’asseoit sur la mousse Comme pour goûter d’anciennes douceurs.
Zig et zig et zag, la mort continue De racler sans fin son aigre instrument Un voile est tombé! La danseuse est nue! Son danseur la serre amoureusement.
La dame est, dit-on, marquise ou baronne. Et le vert galant un pauvre charron Horreur! Et voilà qu’elle s’abandonne Comme si le rustre était un baron!
Zig et zig et zig, quelle sarabande!
Quels cercles de morts se donnant la main! Zig et zig et zag, on voit dans la bande
Le roi gambader auprès du vilain!
Mais psit! tout à coup on quitte la ronde, On se pousse, on fuit, le coq a chanté… Oh! La belle nuit pour le pauvre monde! Et vive la mort et l’égalité!
Zig and zig and zig, Death cries in rhythm, striking a tomb with his heel
At midnight Death plays a dance tune, zig and zig and zag, upon his violin.
The winter wind blows, and the night is dark, groans rise from the lime trees
White skeletons pass through the shadows, running and leaping beneath their burial shrouds.
Zig and zig and zig, each one wriggles, one hears the bones of the dancers clattering A lustful couple sits upon the moss as if tasting once more the sweetness of former days
Zig and zig and zag, Death continues to scrape endlessly upon his harsh instrument. A veil has fallen! The dancer is naked! Her partner embraces her lovingly
The lady is said to be a marchioness or baroness, and her gallant partner a poor wheelwright. Horror! Yet she yields herself as though the peasant were a nobleman!
Zig and zig and zig, what a dance! What circles of the dead join hands together! Zig and zig and zag, among the crowd one sees a king skipping beside a peasant!
But hush! Suddenly they leave the dance, they push, they flee, the rooster has crowed... Oh, what a beautiful night for the poor world! Long live Death, and long live Equality!
