Eliza Boom programme

Tait Tuesdays at Home Tuesday 9th June 9pm AEST | 8pm NZST | 7pm BST

Eliza Boom, soprano

David Kelly, piano Recorded at the Auckland Opera Studio, New Zealand

Programme Non, monsieur mon Mari (Les Mamelles de Tirésias) – Poulenc Nuit D’etoiles – Debussy Le spectre de la rose – Berlioz Er ist gekommen – C. Schumann Die Georgine – Strauss Befreit – Strauss Spring waters – Rachmaninov Ebben? ne andro lontana (La Wally) – Catalani

Non, monsieur mon Mari (Les Mamelles de Tirésias)

No, sir my husband

– Poulenc Theresa: (Eccentric, young and pretty, Theresa, when the Thérèse: (Excentrique, jeune e jolie, Thérèse, des que le rideau

curtain rises, comes out of the building, a broom in hand.) No,

est levé, sort de l’immeuble, un balai à la main.) Non, Monsieur

sir my husband, you cannot make me do what you want. I am a

mon mari, vous ne me ferez pas faire ce que vous voulez. Je suis

feminist, and I do not recognize the authority of the man. From

féministe, et je ne reconnais pas l’autorité de l’homme. Du reste

now on I will do as I please, it’s been long enough that men have

je veux agir à ma guise, il y a assez longtemps que les hommes

been doing what they please. After all, I also want to go fight

font ce qui leur plaît. Après tout, je veux aussi aller me battre

against the enemies. (She shoulders her broom as a rifleman at

contre les ennemis. (Elle se sert de son balai, comme d’un fusil,

drill) I want to be a soldier, one two, one two. I want to make

pour faire l’exercise) J’ai envie d’être soldat, un’ deux, un’ deux.

war and not children. No, sir my husband, you will command

Je veux faire la guerre et non pas faire des enfants. Non,

me no more. It is not because you have courted me in far

Monsieur mon mari, vous ne me commanderez plus. Ce n’est pas

Connecticut that I have to cook for you in Zanzibar.

parce que vous m’avez fait la cour dans le Connecticut que je dois vous faire la cuisine à Zanzibar.

Husband’s Voice: Give me salt pork, I tell you, give me salt pork.

Voix du Mari: Donnez-moi du lard, je te tis, donnez-moi du lard.

Theresa: (She throws her broom in the wings. Frankly, to the audience) You hear him, he thinks only of love. But you do not

Thérèse: (Elle jette son balai dans la coulisse. Franchement, au

suspect, idiot, that after having been a soldier I want to be an

public) Vous I’entendez, il ne pense qu’à I’amour. Mais tu ne te

actress, I wish also to be a congressman, a lawyer, a cabinet

doutes pas, imbécile, qu’après avoir être soldat je yeux être

minister, a president of public affairs; and I want, as a doctor,

artiste, je veux aussi être député, avocat, sénateur, ministre,

either physician or psychiatrist, to give the sweats according to

président de la chose publique; et je veux, médecin physique ou

my taste to Europe and America. Making children, making

bien psychique, diafoirer à mon gré l’Europe et l’Amérique.

meals, it’s too much; I want to be a mathematician, a restaurant

Faire des enfants, faire la cuisine, non c’est trop; je veux être

page, a little telegrapher, and I want, if it pleases me, to keep on

mathématicienne, groom dans les restaurants, petit

a yearly basis that old dancer who has so much talent. (She

télégraphiste, et je veux, s’il me plaît, entretenir à I’an cette

sketches a dance step)

vieille danseuse qui a tant de talent. (Elle esquisse un pas de danse)

Husband’s Voice: Give me salt pork, I tell you, give me salt pork.

Voix du Mari: Donnez-moi du lard, je te tis, donnez-moi du lard.

Theresa: You hear him, he thinks only love. But it seems to me that a beard is beginning to grow. My bosom is coming loose.

Thérèse: Vous l’entendez, il ne pense qu’à l’amour. Mais il me

Ah! (She partially opens her blouse from which her breasts

semble que la barbe me pousse. Ma poitrine se détache.

emerge, one red the other blue, and as she loosens them they fly

Ah! (Elle entr’ouve sa blouse don’t il en sort ses mamelles,

away. They are children’s balloons held back by string) Fly

l’une rouge, l’autre bleue, et, comme elle las lâche, elles

away, birds of my frailty. How pretty they are, feminine charms.

s’envolent, ballons d’enfants, mais restent retenues as les

They are small but ripe, good enough to eat. How pretty they

fils) Envolez-vous, oiseaux de ma faiblesse. Comme c’est

are. Ah! (She bursts out laughing) But enough of this monkey

joli, les appâts féminins. C’est mignon tout plein, on en

business, we will not give over to aeronautics. There is always

mangerait. Comme c’est joli. Ah! (Elle éclate de rire) Mais

some advantage to practicing virtue; vice is after all a dangerous

trêve de bêtises, ne nous livrons pas à l’aéronautique. Il y a

thing. That is why it is better to sacrifice a beauty which may be

toujours quelque avantage à pratiquer la vertu; le vice est

the occasion for sinning. Let us get rid of our breasts. (She

après tout une chose dangereuse. C’est pourquoi il vaut

ignites her lighter and explodes them, then she runs to look at

mieux sacrifier une beauté qui peut être une occasion de

herself in the glass of the bar. She turns her back on the public

péché. Débarrassons-nous de nos mamelles. (Elle allume un

and hooks on a false beard.) But what is this, I’m growing not

briquet et les fait exploser, puis elle court se regarder dans

only a beard but a moustache too. What the devil, I look like a

la glace qui fait partie du bar. Elle tourne le dos au public et

field of wheat awaiting mechanical reaper. (She turns brusquely

s’accroche une fausse barbe.) Qu’est-ce à dire, non

and dances a Spanish step) I feel manly as hell, I am a stallion.

seulement ma barbe pousse mais ma moustache aussi? Eh

From head to hooves now I am a bull, now I will be a

diable, j’ai l’air d’un champ de blé qui attend la

bullfighter. But let’s not spread out my future in the light of day.

moissonneuse mécanique. (Elle se retourne brusquement

Heroes, hide your arms, and you, husband, less manly than I,

et dans un pas espagnol) Je me sens viril en diable, je suis

make all the racket you want. (She turns and looks at herself in

un étalon. De la tête aux talons me voilà taureau, me feraije

the glass)

torero. Mais n’étalons pas mon avenir au grand jour. Héros, cache tes armes, et toi, mari moins viril que moi, fais tout le vacarme que tu voudras. (Elle court se regarder dans la glace)

Nuit d'Etoiles Claude Debussy Nuit d’étoiles, Sous tes voiles, Sous ta brise et tes parfums, Triste lyre Qui soupire, Je rêve aux amours défunts.

La sereine mélancolie Vient éclore au fond de mon cœur, Et j’entends l’âme de ma mie Tressaillir dans le bois rêveur.

Nuit d’étoiles …

Je revois à notre fontaine Tes regards bleus comme les cieux; Cette rose, c’est ton haleine, Et ces étoiles sont tes yeux.

Nuit d’étoiles …

Night of Stars English Translation © Richard Stokes Beneath your veils, beneath your breeze and fragrance, Sad lyre That sighs, I dream of bygone loves.

Serene melancholy Now blooms deep in my heart, And I hear the soul of my love Quiver in the dreaming woods.

Night of stars...

Once more at our fountain I see Your eyes as blue as the sky; This rose is your breath And these stars are your eyes.

Night of stars...

Translation © Richard Stokes, from A French Song Companion (Oxford, 2000)

Le spectre de la rose

The spectre of the rose

Hector Berlioz

English Translation © Richard Stokes

Théophile Gautier

Open your eyelids, Brushed by a virginal dream;

Soulève ta paupière close

I am the spectre of a rose

Qu’effleure un songe virginal;

That yesterday you wore at the dance.

Je suis le spectre d’une rose

You plucked me still sprinkled

Que tu portais hier au bal.

With silver tears of dew,

Tu me pris encore emperlée

And amid the glittering feast

Des pleurs d’argent de l’arrosoir,

You wore me all evening long.

Et parmi le fête étoilée

O you who brought about my death,

Tu me promenas tout le soir.

You shall be powerless to banish me:

Ô toi, qui de ma mort fus cause,

The rosy spectre which every night

Sans que tu puisses le chasser,

Will come to dance at your bedside.

Toutes les nuits mon spectre rose

But be not afraid – I demand

À ton chevet viendra danser.

Neither Mass nor De Profundis;

Mais ne crains rien, je ne réclame

This faint perfume is my soul,

Ni messe ni De profundis;

And I come from Paradise.

Ce léger parfum est mon âme,

My destiny was worthy of envy;

Et j’arrive du paradis.

And for such a beautiful fate,

Mon destin fut digne d’envie:

Many would have given their lives –

Et pour avoir un sort si beau,

For my tomb is on your breast,

Plus d’un aurait donné sa vie,

And on the alabaster where I lie,

Car sur ton sein j’ai mon tombeau,

A poet with a kiss

Et sur l’albâtre où je repose

Has written: Here lies a rose

Un poëte avec un baiser

Which every king will envy.

Écrivit: Ci-gît une rose Que tous les rois vont jalouser.

Translations by Richard Stokes, from A French Song Companion (Oxford, 2000)

Er ist gekommen in Sturm und Regen Clara Schumann

He came in storm and rain English Translation © Richard Stokes

Friedrich Rückert Er ist gekommen

He came

In Sturm und Regen,

In storm and rain;

Ihm schlug beklommen

My anxious heart

mein Herz entgegen.

Beat against his.

Wie konnt’ ich ahnen,

How could I have known

Dass seine Bahnen

That his path

Sich einen sollten meinen Wegen?

Should unite itself with mine?

Er ist gekommen

He came in storm and rain;

In Sturm und Regen,

Audaciously

Er hat genommen

He took my heart.

Mein Herz verwegen.

Did he take mine?

Nahm er das meine?

Did I take his?

Nahm ich das seine?

Both drew near to each other.

Die beiden kamen sich entgegen.

He came

Er ist gekommen

In storm and rain.

In Sturm und Regen,

Now spring’s blessing

Nun ist gekommen

Has come.

Des Frühlings Segen.

My friend journeys on,

Der Freund zieht weiter,

I watch with good cheer,

Ich seh’ es heiter,

For he shall be mine wherever he goes.

Denn er bleibt mein auf allen Wegen.

Translations by Richard Stokes, author of The Book of Lieder (Faber, 2005)

Die Georgine Richard Strauss Hermann von Gilm

The Dahlia English Translation © Richard Stokes Why, dahlia, appear so late?

The roses have told their tale

Warum so spät erst, Georgine?

And the honey-sated bee

Das Rosenmärchen ist erzählt,

Has chosen where to lay its head.

Und honigsatt hat sich die Biene

Are these nights not too cold for you?

Ihr Bett zum Schlummer ausgewählt.

How do you survive these days?

Sind nicht zu kalt dir diese Nächte?

What if I brought you springtime now,

Wie lebst du diese Tage hin?

You fiery yellow dreamer?

Wenn ich dir jetzt den Frühling brächte,

What if I watered you with May dew,

Du feuergelbe Träumerin,

Drenched you in the light of June,

Wenn ich mit Maitau dich benetzte,

But ah! you would not be then the last,

Begöße dich mit Junilicht,

Nor proud to be unique.

Doch ach! dann wärst du nicht die Letzte,

What, O dreamer, do I tempt you in vain?

Die stolze Einzige auch nicht.

Then give me your sisterly hand,

Wie, Träumerin, lock’ ich vergebens?

I’ve not known May-time in this life,

So reich’ mir schwesterlich die Hand,

Just as you’ve not known the spring.

Ich hab’ den Maitag dieses Lebens

And as with you, fiery yellow flower,

Wie du den Frühling nicht gekannt;

Love stole late into my heart,

Und spät wie dir, du Feuergelbe,

Late or early, it is the same

Stahl sich die Liebe mir ins Herz;

Enchantment and the same pain.

Ob spät, ob früh, es ist dasselb e Entzücken und derselbe Schmerz.

Translation © Richard Stokes, author of The Book of Lieder (Faber, 2005)

Befreit

Released

Richard Strauss

English Translation © Richard Stokes

Richard Dehmel

You will not weep. Gently, gently

Du wirst nicht weinen. Leise, leise wirst du lächeln und wie zur Reise geb’ ich dir Blick und Kuß zurück.

Unsre lieben vier Wände, du hast sie bereitet, ich habe sie dir zur Welt geweitet; O Glück!

Dann wirst du heiß meine Hände fassen und wirst mir deine Seele lassen, läßt unsern Kindern mich zurück.

Du schenktest mir dein ganzes Leben, ich will es ihnen wieder geben; O Glück!

Es wird sehr bald sein, wir wissen’s beide, wir haben einander befreit vom Leide, so gab’ ich dich der Welt zurück!

Dann wirst du mir nur noch im Traum erscheinen und mich segnen und mit mir weinen; O Glück!

you will smile; and as before a journey I shall return your gaze and kiss.

You have cared for the room we love!

I have widened these four walls for you into a world – O happiness!

Then ardently you will seize my hands and you will leave me your soul, leave me to care for our children.

You gave your whole life to me, I shall give it back to them – O happiness!

It will be very soon, we both know it, we have released each other from suffering, so I returned you to the world.

Then you’ll appear to me only in dreams, and you will bless me and weep with me – O happiness!

Translation © Richard Stokes, author of The Book of Lieder (Faber, 2005)

Jeshchjo v poljakh belejet sneg

Spring Waters

Sergei Rachmaninov

English Translation © Philip Ross Bullock

Fyodor Ivanovich Tyutchev

The fields are still white with snow,

Jeshchjo v poljakh belejet sneg, A vody uzh vesnoj shumjat -Begut i budjat sonnyj breg, Begut, i bleshchut, i glasjat...

Oni glasjat vo vse koncy: "Vesna idjot, vesna idjot!

My molodoj vesny goncy, Ona nas vyslala vperjod.

Vesna idjot, vesna idjot, I tikhikh, teplykh majskikh dnej Rumjanyj, svetlyj khorovod Tolpitsja veselo za nej!..."

But already there is the sound of spring in the waters – They run along and wake the sleepy banks, They run, and glitter, and proclaim…

They proclaim in every direction: ‘Spring is coming, spring is coming!

We are the heralds of youthful spring, Who sends us on ahead.

Spring is coming, spring is coming, And the quiet, warm days of May, Like some rosy, radiant round-dance, Hurry along in its wake.

Ebben! Ne andrò lontana

Well then! I’ll take off far away

Alfredo Catalani Luigi Illica Ebben! Ne andrò lontana come va l'eco pia campana, là fra la neve bianca, là fra le nubi d'ôr; laddóve la speranza, la speranza è rimpianto, è rimpianto, è dolor!

O della madre mia casa gioconda la Wally ne andrà da te, da te, lontana assai, e forse a te, e forse a te, non farà mai più ritorno, nè più la rivedrai!

Mai più, mai più!

Ne andrò sola e lontana, là fra la neve bianca, n'andrò, n'andrò sola e lontana e fra le nubi d'ôr!

Ebben! Ne andrò lontana come va l'eco pia campana, là fra la neve bianca, là fra le nubi d'ôr; laddóve la speranza, la speranza è rimpianto, è rimpianto, è dolor!

O della madre mia casa gioconda la Wally ne andrà da te, da te, lontana assai, e forse a te, e forse a te, non farà mai più ritorno, nè più la rivedrai Mai più, mai più!

Ne andrò sola e lontana, là fra la neve bianca, n'andrò, n'andrò sola e lontana e fra le nubi d'ôr!

Well then! I’ll take off far away like the echo of a pious bell does, there among the white snow, there among the clouds of gold, there where hope, hope is regret, is regret, is sorrow!

Oh from my mother's mirthful home Wally will go away from you, from you! far far away, and perhaps to you, and perhaps to you, she’ll return no more, nor see you any more!

Never again, never again!

I’ll take off alone and far away, there among the white snow, I’ll take off, I’ll take off alone and far away, and to the clouds of gold!

Well then! I’ll take off far away like the echo of a pious bell does, there among the white snow, there among the clouds of gold, there where hope, hope is regret, is regret, is sorrow!

Oh from my mother's mirthful home Wally will go away from you, from you! far far away, and perhaps to you, and perhaps to you, she’ll return no more, nor see you any more!

Never again, never again!

I’ll take off alone and far away, there among the white snow, I’ll take off, I’ll take off alone and far away, and to the clouds of gold!