UTSA School of Music Vocal Arts Series
Geistermusik
3:00pm, Sunday, October 9, 2022
S.Andrew Lloyd, organ Jeong Eun Lee, piano
Toccata and Fugue in D Minor, BWV 565
Program
J. S. Bach (1685 1750)
S.Andrew Lloyd, organ
“How Could I Ever Know”
Lucy Simon from The Secret Garden (b. 1943) Madeline Gutierrez, soprano
“Mistress Hew”
Theodore Chanler from Three Epitaphs (1902 1961) Nicolas Garza, tenor
Der Tod und das Mädchen
Franz Schubert (1797 1828) Abraham Gomez, bass baritone
The Epitaph of a Butterfly
Marion Bauer (1882 1955) Ariana Bonilla, mezzo soprano
Night Wanderers
When I am Dead My Dearest
Samuel Barber (1910 1981) Antonio Zubillaga, baritone
Liza Lehmann (1862 1918) Francheska Lugo, soprano
Der Doppelganger” Franz Schubert from Schwanengesang
Joshua Moncada Zoll, baritone
“With Nanny”
Modest Mussorgsky from The Nursery (1839 1881)
Natalie Baker, soprano
Death of an Old Seaman
Jared Kellman Medina, baritone
I Pitch My Lonely Caravan at Night
Lucas Moncada Zoll, tenor
Cecil Cohen (1894 1967)
Eric Coates (1886 1957)
Sweet Suffolk Owl
Richard Hundley (1931 2018)
Bernadette Fernandez, soprano
Erlkönig Op.1 d.328 Franz Schubert
Hector Tobar, baritone
“
Der Tod und das Mädchen (Matthias Claudius)
Das Mädchen: “Vorüber! Ach, vorüber! Geh wilder Knochenmann! Ich bin noch jung, geh Lieber! Und rühre mich nicht an.
Der Tod: “Gib deine Hand, Du schön und zart Gebild! Bin Freund, und komme nicht, zu strafen. Sey gutes Muths! ich bin nicht wild, Sollst sanft in meinen Armen schlafen!
Der Doppelganger (Heinrich Heine)
Still ist die Nacht, es ruhen die Gassen, In diesem Hause wohnte mein Schatz; Sie hat schon längst die Stadt verlassen, Doch steht noch das Haus auf demselben Platz.
Da steht auch ein Mensch und starrt in die Höhe, Und ringt die Hände, vor Schmerzensgewalt; Mir graust es, wenn ich sein Antlitz sehe, Der Mond zeigt mir meine eigne Gestalt.
Du Doppeltgänger! du bleicher Geselle!
Was äffst du nach mein Liebesleid, Das mich gequält auf dieser Stelle, So manche Nacht, in alter Zeit?
With Nanny (Modest Mussorgsky)
Rasskazhi mne, nyanyushka, Rasskazhi mne, milaya, Pro tovo pro buku strashnovo: Kak tot buka po lesam brodil, Kak tot buka vies detey nosil I kak gryz on belyye kostochki, I ka deti te krichali, plakali! Nyanyushka! Ved' zato ikh, detey‐to, buka syel, Shto obideli nyanyu staruyu, Papu mamoy ne poslushali, Ved' zato on syel ikh, nyanyushka?
Ili vot shto:
Rasskazhi mne luchshe pro tsarya s tsaritsey, Shto za morem zhili v teremu bogatom. Yeshcho tsar vsyo na nogu khromal, Kak spotknyotsa tak grib vyrastit. U tsaritsy ta vsyo nasmork byl, Kak chikhnyot styokla v drebezgi! Znayesh, nyanyushka: Ty pro buku to uzh ne rasskazyvay! Bog s nim, s bukoy! Rasskazhi mne, nyanya, tu, smeshnuyu‐to!
The girl:
“Pass! Ah, pass over!
Go wild skeleton!
I'm still young, go dear!
And don't touch me.”
Death:
“Give your hand, you beautiful and delicate creature!
I am a friend and do not come to punish.
Be of good courage! I am not wild, You shall sleep softly in my arms!”
The night is still, the streets are quiet, In this house lived my darling; She left town long ago But the house is still in the same place.
There is also a man standing and staring up, And wrings his hands in anguish; I shudder when I see his face The moon shows me my own form.
You double walker! You pale companion! Why are you aping for my love sorrow, that tormented me in this place, Many a night, in the olden days?
Tell me, Nanny,
Tell me, dear Nanny, The story of the dreadful bogey‐man, And how he used to roam through the forests, And how he carried off children into the wood, And devoured their white bones, And how the children cried out and wept! Nanny dear! Was that why the bogey‐man ate up the children, Because they had upset their old Nanny, And disobeyed their father and mother? Was that why he ate them up, Nanny dear?
No, wait:
Tell me instead about the Tsar and the Tsaritsa, Who lived by the sea in a rich palace. The Tsar was always limping, And where he stumbled, a mushroom grew up. The Tsaritsa always had a cold, And when she sneezed, it made the windows crack!
Listen, Nanny dear, Don't tell me about the boogey‐man again!
Let's leave him alone! Tell me the other story, the funny one!
Translations:
”
”
Erlkönig (Johann Wolfgang von Goethe) Wer reitet so spät durch Nacht und Wind?
Es ist der Vater mit seinem Kind: Er hat den Knaben wohl in dem Arm, Er fasst ihn sicher, er hält ihn warm.
„Mein Sohn, was birgst du so bang dein Gesicht?“ „Siehst, Vater, du den Erlkönig nicht? Den Erlenkönig mit Kron’ und Schweif?“ „Mein Sohn, es ist ein Nebelstreif.“
„Du liebes Kind, komm, geh mit mir! Gar schöne Spiele spiel’ ich mit dir; Manch’ bunte Blumen sind an dem Strand, Meine Mutter hat manch gülden Gewand.“
„Mein Vater, mein Vater, und hörest du nicht, Was Erlenkönig mir leise verspricht?“
„Sei ruhig, bleibe ruhig, mein Kind: In dürren Blättern säuselt der Wind.“
„Willst, feiner Knabe, du mit mir gehn? Meine Töchter sollen dich warten schön; Meine Töchter führen den nächtlichen Rein Und wiegen und tanzen und singen dich ein.“
„Mein Vater, mein Vater, und siehst du nicht dort Erlkönigs Töchter am düstern Ort?“ „Mein Sohn, mein Sohn, ich seh es genau: Es scheinen die alten Weiden so grau.“
„Ich liebe dich, mich reizt deine schöne Gestalt; Und bist du nicht willig, so brauch ich Gewalt.“ „Mein Vater, mein Vater, jetzt fasst er mich an! Erlkönig hat mir ein Leids getan!“
Dem Vater grausets, er reitet geschwind, Er hält in Armen das ächzende Kind, Erreicht den Hof mit Mühe und Not: In seinen Armen das Kind war tot.
Who rides so late through the night and wind? It is the father with his child. He has the boy in his arms; he holds him safely, he keeps him warm.
‘My son, why do you hide your face in fear?’ ‘Father, can you not see the Erlking? The Erlking with his crown and tail?’ ‘My son, it is a streak of mist.’
‘Sweet child, come with me. I’ll play wonderful games with you. Many a pretty flower grows on the shore; my mother has many a golden robe.’
‘Father, father, do you not hear what the Erlking softly promises me?’ ‘Calm, be calm, my child: the wind is rustling in the withered leaves.’
‘Won’t you come with me, my fine lad? My daughters shall wait upon you; my daughters lead the nightly dance, and will rock you, and dance, and sing you to sleep.’
‘Father, father, can you not see Erlking’s daughters there in the darkness?’ ‘My son, my son, I can see clearly: it is the old grey willows gleaming.’
‘I love you, your fair form allures me, and if you don’t come willingly, I’ll use force.’ ‘Father, father, now he’s seizing me! The Erlking has hurt me!’
The father shudders, he rides swiftly, he holds the moaning child in his arms; with one last effort he reaches home; the child lay dead in his arms.
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