Victoria Santana Program Notes, April 17 2021

Senior Recital Victoria Santana, Soprano Jessica Myers, piano April 17th, 2021 5:00 pm Notes and Translations

Program Notes and Translations Richard Georg Strauss (1864-1949) Richard Strauss was born on June 11th in Munich, Germany. He is a renowned composer from the Romantic era. Allerseelen and Zueignung are a part of Opus 10; this set is a set of pieces set to the Letzte Blatter collection of poems by Hermann von Gilm.

Breit Über mein Haupt is from Strauss’s Opus 19 and depicts beautiful word imagery set beautifully by Strauss. He is well known for his mastery of setting German poetry and his operatic way.

Allerseelen

All Souls' Day

Stell auf den Tisch die duftenden Reseden, Die letzten roten Astern trag herbei, Und laß uns wieder von der Liebe reden, Wie einst im Mai.

Set on the table the fragrant mignonettes,

Gib mir die Hand, daß ich sie heimlich drücke, Und wenn man’s sieht, mir ist es einerlei, Gib mir nur einen deiner süßen Blicke, Wie einst im Mai.

Give me your hand to press in secret,

Es blüht und duftet heut auf jedem Grabe, Ein Tag im Jahr ist ja den Toten frei,

Each grave today has flowers and is fragrant, One day each year is devoted to the dead;

Bring in the last red asters, And let us talk of love again As once in May.

And if people see, I do not care, Give me but one of your sweet glances As once in May.

Komm am mein Herz, daß ich dich wieder habe, Wie einst im Mai

Come to my heart and so be mine again,

Breit’ über mein Haupt

Unbind your black hair

Breit’ über mein Haupt dein schwarzes Haar, Neig’ zu mir dein Angesicht, Da strömt in die Seele so hell und klar Mir deiner Augen Licht.

Unbind your black hair right over my head, Incline to me your face!

Then clearly and brightly into my soul The light of your eyes will stream.

Ich will nicht droben der Sonne Pracht, Noch der Sterne leuchtenden Kranz, Ich will nur deiner Locken Nacht Und deiner Blicke Glanz.

I want neither the glory of the sun above Nor the gleaming garland of stars, All I want are your black tresses And the radiance of your eyes.

As once in May.

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

Zueignung

Dedication

Ja, du weißt es, teure Seele, Daß ich fern von dir mich quäle, Liebe macht die Herzen krank, Habe Dank.

Yes, dear soul, you know That I’m in torment far from you, Love makes hearts sick – Be thanked.

Einst hielt ich, der Freiheit Zecher, Hoch den Amethysten-Becher, Und du segnetest den Trank, Habe Dank.

Once, revelling in freedom, I held The amethyst cup aloft And you blessed that draught – Be thanked.

Und beschworst darin die Bösen, Bis ich, was ich nie gewesen, Heilig, heilig an’s Herz dir sank, Habe Dank!

And you banished the evil spirits, Till I, as never before, Holy, sank holy upon your heart – Be thanked.

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

John Duke (1899-1984) John Duke was born in Cumberland, Maryland on July 30th 1899. He is a well known composer for art songs in america and also . He has composed over 256 art songs two of them being The bird and Spring Thunder. These pieces show great contrast in his style of composition. He attended the Peabody Conservatory in Baltimore and has been praised on the diversity of his style.

Spring Thunder Listen. The wind is still, And far away in the night— See! The uplands fill With a running light.

Open the doors. It is warm; And where the sky was clear — Look! The head of a storm That marches here!

Come under the trembling hedge— Fast, although you fumble. . . .

There! Did you hear the edge Of winter crumble?

The Bird O clear and musical, Sing again! Sing again!

Hear the rain fall Through the long night.

Bring me your song again, O dear delight!

O dear and comforting, Mine again! Mine again!

Hear the rain sing And the dark rejoice!

Shine like a spark again, O clearest voice

Henri Duparc (1848-1933) His works in the Romantic period while there are only a few pieces left as he destroyed most of his music. Chanson triste is from Duparc’s Cinq melodies, Op.2 a beautifully painted scene that is full of passion and lyricism. The same style of composition can be said for both Extase and l'invitation au voyage. He was diagnosed with a condition that left him extremely self critical and sensitive that eventually led him to no longer compose and the destruction of many of his works.

Chanson triste

Song of sadness

Dans ton cœur dort un clair de lune, Un doux clair de lune d’été, Et pour fuir la vie importune, Je me noierai dans ta clarté.

Moonlight slumbers in your heart, A gentle summer moonlight, And to escape the cares of life I shall drown myself in your light.

J’oublierai les douleurs passées, Mon amour, quand tu berceras Mon triste cœur et mes pensées Dans le calme aimant de tes bras.

I shall forget past sorrows, My sweet, when you cradle My sad heart and my thoughts In the loving calm of your arms.

Tu prendras ma tête malade, Oh! quelquefois sur tes genoux, Et lui diras une ballade Qui semblera parler de nous;

You will rest my poor head, Ah! sometimes on your lap, And recite to it a ballad That will seem to speak of us;

Et dans tes yeux pleins de tristesses, Dans tes yeux alors je boirai Tant de baisers et de tendresses Que peut-être je guérirai.

And from your eyes full of sorrow, From your eyes I shall then drink So many kisses and so much love That perhaps I shall be healed.

Extase

Rapture

Sur un lys pâle mon cœur dort D’un sommeil doux comme la mort …

Mort exquise, mort parfumée Du souffle de la bien-aimée …

On a pale lily my heart is sleeping A sleep as sweet as death...

Exquisite death, death perfumed By the breath of the beloved...

Sur ton sein pâle mon cœur dort

On your pale breast my heart is sleeping…

D’un sommeil doux comme la mort …

A sleep as sweet as death...

L'invitation au voyage

Invitation to journey

Mon enfant, ma sœur, Songe à la douceur D’aller là-bas vivre ensemble!

Aimer à loisir, Aimer et mourir Au pays qui te ressemble!

Les soleils mouillés De ces ciels brouillés Pour mon esprit ont les charmes Si mystérieux De tes traîtres yeux, Brillant à travers leurs larmes.

My child, my sister, Think how sweet To journey there and live together!

To love as we please, To love and die In the land that is like you!

The watery suns Of those hazy skies Hold for my spirit The same mysterious charms As your treacherous eyes Shining through their tears.

Là, tout n’est qu’ordre et beauté, Luxe, calme et volupté!

There - nothing but order and beauty dwell, Abundance, calm, and sensuous delight.

Vois sur ces canaux Dormir ces vaisseaux Dont l’humeur est vagabonde; C’est pour assouvir Ton moindre désir Qu’ils viennent du bout du monde.

-Les soleils couchants Revêtent les champs, Les canaux, la ville entière, D’hyacinthe et d’or; Le monde s’endort Dans une chaude lumière.

See on those canals Those vessels sleeping, Vessels with a restless soul; To satisfy Your slightest desire They come from the ends of the earth.

The setting suns Clothe the fields, Canals and all the town With hyacinth and gold; The world falls asleep In a warm light.

Là, tout n’est qu’ordre et beauté,

There - nothing but order and beauty dwell,

Luxe, calme et volupté!

Abundance, calm, and sensuous delight.

Gaetano Donizetti (1797-1848) Gaetano Donizetti was born on November 29th in 1797 in Bergamo, Lombardy and passed April 8th 1848. He is a very well known composer known for his Operatic works. Lu Tradimiento is a song about a woman scorned who is expressing to her partner how upset she is that they have exchanged her for another. Il pescatore is a song about a fisherman who feels he has no place in this world. He feels that no one would notice if he were to disappear and a goddess appears to him on the lake saying he should join her as she has heard his pleas and appreciates him.

La ninna nanna

Lullaby

Dormi fanciullo mio, Dormi e riposa Nella pace del sonno Trasparente;

Sleep my little boy, sleep and rest in the peace of clear sleep.

Dormi, sí, dormi, E la pupilla ascosa Si volga al ciel Silenzïosamente.

Sleep, ah sleep, and let your hidden eyes turn to Heaven silently.

Dormi, dormi, i Cherubini A te scherzano d'accanto; I lor labbri porporini Stanno aperti a dolce canto.

Sleep, sleep, the cherubim sport about you; their red lips are open in sweet song.

Uno spirto t'han creduto Dalle sfere qui caduto Ed al coro a cui tu manchi Ricondurti vonno in ciel.

They have believed you a spirit fallen from the stars and to the choir from which you are absent they would take you back to Heaven.

Ah! dormi, o figlio mio, Dormi il sonno della pace; Dormi, dormi, gli occhi stanchi Covra il sonno col suo vel.

Ah! Sleep, sleep, my son, sleep the sleep of peace; sleep, sleep, your weary eyes let sleep cover with its veil.

Ah! sí, non senti un alito

Ah! Yes, do you not feel a breath

Che ti carezza il viso?

Ah! sí, non vedi gli angioli Scesi dal paradiso

caress your face?

Ah! Yes, do you not see the angels descending from paradise,

Che intorno a te s'aggirano Come farfalle ai fior?

O figlio, dormi candido, Il sonno dell'amor.

that fly around you like butterflies round a flower?

O son, sleep amid the angels, the fair sleep of love.

E la tua culla argentea Come una navicella Solca tranquilla l'etere, Passa di stella in stella,

And your silver cradle like a boat sails calmly through the air, passes from star to star.

Vogano lieti gli angioli, Tu dormi in mezzo a lor, Dormi, sí dormi placido Il sonno dell'amor.

Happy the angels row, you sleep among them, sleep, yes, sleep calmly, the sleep of love.

Lu Trademiento

The Treachery

Ah! tradetore, tu m'haje lassata E m'haje scagnata pe chella llà,

Ah! traitor, you have left me And you have exchanged me for that other woman, Yes, I know, she is more beautiful than me But as for faithful, you will see soon.

Gnorsì, che chella de me è cchiù bella, Ma pe' fedele, po se vedrà.

Lu trademientu ca mò me faje, Non passa craje, te lo farà.

E cheste lagrime che mò m'annozzano, Porzì cò ausura l'haje da scunttà.

The treachery you have shown me, She will show you before tomorrow is over.

And these tears that are choking me now, You must pay back, and with interest.

Il pescatore

The Fisherman

Era l’ora che i cieli lente lente mandan l’ombre sfumate, e ch’ogni istante tacito, fuggente sul fronte della sera ingenuo e puro spande un velo più scuro.

It was the hour when the heavens slowly slowly call up dark clouds, and that at every instant, silent, fleeting, over the evening, innocent and pure, is cast a darker veil.

Sovra un limpido lago un battelliero

On a limpid lake a boatman

col suo battel leggero tracciava un solco che vedea svanir siccome il sovvenir dei dì che furo.

with his light boat traced a wake that vanished like the memory of days gone by.

È giovane e leggiadro il pescatore e deliba l’incanto d’un lieto dì ne’ sogni di speranza.

E canta e tutto tace, ché il suo canto è il canto dell’amore:

Young he is and slender, the fisherman, and enjoys the charm of a happy day of dreams of hope.

He sings and all is silent, for his song is the song of love:

Oh! vent’anni giungeste, né un core del mio core la voce ha sentita, né la rosa sul seno appassita una vergine a sera mi diè.

Oh! You have reached twenty, yet the voice of my heart has not been heard in another’s nor has a girl given me at evening the rose faded on her bosom.

La mia barca abbandona la riva senza un caro sussurro, un addio, senza un guardo, una voce che a Dio implorasse un sospiro per me, ahimé!

My boat leaves the shore without a dear whisper, a farewell, without a look, a voice imploring God for a sigh for me. Ah me!’

Ma tace, ascolta! al canto suo dall’onde una voce risponde, la speranza sul labbro gli ridea e la voce d’amor dicea così, così dicea:

But quiet, listen! To his song from the waves replies a voice, hope on the lips, a smile on the lips and the voice of love spoke as follows:

A me giunse il tuo lamento, Mi ferì quel caro accento.

Son la dea di questo lago, il mio viso è puro e vago; giovinetto pescator, per te palpito d’amor.

Ah! non morrà la mia bellezza, non morrà tua giovinezza; Sovra un trono di corallo, sotto un cielo di cristallo, vieni, vieni, pescatore, vieni al bacio dell’amor.

Your lament has come to me, that dear voice hurt me.

I am the goddess of this lake, my face is pure and vague; young fisherman, for you my heart beats with love.

Ah! My beauty will not die, your youth will not die; on a throne of coral under a sky of crystal. come, come, fisherman, come to the kiss of love.’

Tacque, e s’udia sul lago e sulla sponda un mesto mormorio che affievoliva sino alla riva urtando d’onda in onda.

There is silence and heard on the lake and on the shore is a sad murmur that weakened as it came up to the bank, rippling from wave to wave.

E quando l’alba cominciò a spuntare, del pescator la folla costernata la barca abbandonata videerrare.

And when dawn began to break, the crowd, in consternation, saw the fisherman’s boat, drifting abandoned.

Lee Hoiby (1926-2011) Lee Hoiby was born February 17th in 1926 in Madison, Wisconsin. It was apparent by the age of 5 that Hoiby would live a life in music as he began to play the piano. He has been influenced by a variety of 20th century composers and was on track to be a concert pianist but became more interested in composing. He has composed a variety of songs and is known as a staple american composer for american art songs.

Lady of the harbor has beautifully set text describing the Statue of liberty, a national treasure in american history.

What if….

And what if in your sleep you dreamed?

And what if in your dream you went to heaven and there plucked a strange and beautiful flow'r?

And what if when you awoke, you had the flower in your hand?

Ah! What then?

Summer Song Air, still as picture lakes, Raven shade hammocked me.

Skies, calm as postcard blue Dreamed, hovered over me.

Phlox prim as needle-point, Wintergreen bowered me.

Day, tall as tamaracks, Leaned, lowered over me.

Sun, hushed as silences, Butterflies shadowed me.

World, wide as wonderful, Bloomed, blossomed over me.

What if…

What if you slept?

And what if in your sleep you dreamed?

And what if in your dream you went to heaven and there plucked a strange and beautiful flow'r?

And what if when you awoke, you had the flower in your hand?

Ah! What then?

Lady of the Harbor Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”