George Frideric Handel (1685 - 1759) was a German Baroque composer mostly known for his operas and oratorios, although he also composed for various other genres including anthems, concerti grossi and organ concertos His music allowed the Italian opera to reach its highest development, and his creation of the genre of oratorio and organ concerto shaped church music, making him consistently recognized as one of the greatest composers of his age
Handel is best known for his English oratorio Messiah, in which the story and legacy of Christ is retold in concert format The opening aria of comfort ye retells the prophecy of a savior delivered to Isaiah, while the following aria of Every Valley celebrates the revelation that humanity has a savior
Comfort Ye
Comfort ye my people
Saith your God
Speak ye comfortably to Jerusalem
And cry unto her
Her warfare is accomplished
That her iniquity is pardoned
The voice of Him
That crieth in the wilderness
Prepare ye the way of the Lord
Make straight in the desert
A highway for our God
Ev’ry Valley Shall Be Exalted
Every valley shall be exalted And ev'ry mountain and hill made low
The crooked straight
And the rough places plain
Stefano Donoudy (1879 - 1925) was a precocious Italian composer, best known for writing some of his most popular works when he was only thirteen Most of his music comes from his time working with wealthy Sicilian families, where he worked as a voice teacher and accompanist to fund his passion of composition
O bei nidi d’amore comes from his 36 Arie di Stile Antico (36 Arias of the Old Style), in which Donoudy attempted to capture the beauty and brilliancy of Italian Baroque and Renaissance music In this work, the performer serenades an unknown individual by complimenting their physical features, lamenting that no earthly beauty can compare to their eyes and smile.
O bei nidi d’amore
O bei nidi d’amore, occhi a me si cari,
Che di vostro favore non mi foste avari, or che privo son io di quel vostro sorriso, di quel mio Paradiso.
Senza piu alcun desio vedo i giorni miei fuggire,
e in si cruda mia sorte ogni girono ho piu morte, e non posso ancor, non posso morir!
Non ha raggi piu il sole, stelle il firmamento.
Non ha il prato viole, ne sospiri ha il vento.
Or che a crescer l’ambascia del perduto mio bene che si affranto mi tiene.
Persin quella mi lascia onde almen nutrivo il core, pietosa speranza che anche al misero avanza perche gli sia, men crudo il dolor!
Oh beautiful nests of love
Oh, beautiful nests of love, eyes so fear to me, that were not ungenerous in favoring me, now that i am deprived of your smile, of my paradise devoid of all desires, I see my days fleeing and in such cruel fate, everyday i die a little more, and yet I cannot, I cannot die!
The sun has no more rays, the firmament stars.
The meadow has no violets, nor does the wind have any sighs.
Now to increase the pain of having lost my beloved that keeps me so grief stricken.
Even when hope leaves me by which at least I had a nourished heart, merciful hope that comes to the wretched so that his sorrows be less cruel!
Sir Francesco Paolo Tosti (1846 - 1916) was an Italian composer and music teacher He studied violin and composition when he was a student at the Royal College of San Pietro a Majella, and was so advanced for his age he was appointed student teacher around the age of 12 His schooling was forced into hiatus when he fell ill, but recovered and moved to Ancona, where he lived in poverty until he met Giovanni Sgambati and became his pupil
Tosti is best remembered for his light and expressive songs, which are characterized by natural, free flowing melodies that contain tender sentimentality Malia, which translates to “Enchantment”, tells the brief story of one who is so bewitched by the beauty of their beloved, they question if they were enchanted by a love potion or if their beloved is a nymph in disguise
Malia
Cosa c'era ne 'l fior che m'hai dato?
forse un filtro, Un arcano poter?
Nel toccarlo, il mio core ha tremato, m'ha l'olezzo turbato il pensier.
Ne le vaghe movenze, che ci hai?
Un incanto vien forse con te?
Freme l'aria per dove tu vai, spunta un fiore ove passa 'l tuo piè.
Io non chiedo qual plaga beata fino adesso soggiorno ti fu: non ti chiedo se Ninfa, se Fata, se una bionda parvenza sei tu!
Ma che c'è nel tuo sguardo fatale ?
Cosa ci hai nel tuo magico dir?
Se mi guardi, un'ebbrezza m'assale,
Se mi parli, mi sento morir!
Enchantment
What was there in that flower you gave me?
Perhaps a love-potion, a mysterious power!
As I touched it, my heart trembled, its perfume troubled my thoughts!
What was there in your delicate movements?
Do you bring a magic charm with you?
The air quivers wherever you go, a flower springs at your feet as you pass!
I do not ask in which blessed region you have lived until now:
I do not ask if you are a nymph, a fairy or a fair apparition!
But what is there in your fateful glance? What is there in your magical words? When you look at me, rapture overwhelms me, when you speak to me, I feel as if I am dying!
In his work Aprile, the singer celebrates spring, the season of love They beg their beloved to run with them into the flower fields while dressed in flowers, so they can get lost in the fresh April breeze.
Aprile
Non senti tu nell'aria il profumo che spande primavera?
Non senti tu nell'anima il suon di nuova voce lusinghiera?
È l'april!
È la stagion d'amore!
Deh! Vieni, o mia gentil, sui prati in fiore!
È l'april!
Il pie' trarrai fra mammole, avrai sul petto rose e cilestrine, e le farfalle candide t'aleggeranno in torno al nero crine.
April
Do you not sense in the air the perfume of spring?
Do you not sense deep within you the sound of a new, alluring voice?
‘Tis April!
The season of love!
Ah! Come, my sweet, to the flowery meadows. ‘Tis April!
You will walk among the violets, wear roses and bluebells on your breast, and white butterflies will flutter around your black tresses.
Franz Schubert (1797 – 1838) was a Romantic Austrian composer and organist He is widely considered to be one of the fundamental composers of Classical music He is best known for his contributions to both chamber music and Lieder, a type of German art song that is often described as the marriage between voice and piano
His first and most famous song cycle, Die Schöne Müllerin was adapted into Lieder from the 25 poems written by Wilhelm Müller, although only 20 of the original poems appear in the final version The cycle tells the story of a young journeyman who discovers a babbling brook, which he cannot help but admire as he follows it through the countryside (Wohin?) to discover a Mill, only to see the Beautiful Maid of the Mill and have his heart stolen by her
Wohin?
Ich hört’ ein Bächlein rauschen
Where?
I heard a little brook babbling Wohl aus dem Felsenquell, from its rocky source, Hinab zum Tale rauschen babbling down to the valley So frisch und wunderhell. so bright, so wondrously clear
Ich weiss nicht, wie mir wurde,
I know not what came over me, Nicht, wer den Rat mir gab, nor who prompted me, Ich musste auch hinunter but I too had to go down Mit meinem Wanderstab. with my wanderer’s staff.
Hinunter und immer weiter
Down and ever onwards, Und immer dem Bache nach, always following the brook, Und immer heller rauschte, as it babbled ever brighter, Und immer heller der Bach. and ever clearer
Ist das denn meine Strasse?
O Bächlein, sprich, wohin?
Is this then my path?
O brook, say where it leads? Du hast mit deinem Rauschen
With your babbling Mir ganz berauscht den Sinn. You have quite befuddled my mind.
Was sag’ ich denn vom Rauschen?
Das kann kein Rauschen sein:
Why do I speak of babbling?
That is no babbling: Es singen wohl die Nixen It is the water nymphs singing Tief unten ihren Reihn. As they dance their round far below.
Lass singen, Gesell, lass rauschen,
Let them sing, my friend, Und wandre fröhlich nach!
Let the brook babble Es gehn ja Mühlenräder and follow it cheerfully! In jedem klaren Bach. For mill wheels turn In every clear brook.
After working a grueling day at the mill, the journeyman is wounded when the maid of the mill pays him no attention, and as he laments, he wishes that he had the strength of a thousand men to attract the maid’s attention.
Les étoiles effarouchées
Viennent de s'envoler des cieux:
J'en sais deux qui se sont cachées, Mignonne, dans vos jolis yeux,
A l'ombre de vos cils soyeux
Et sous vos paupières penchées:
Attendez! mes baisers joyeux
Les auront bientôt dénichées!
Vous feignez de dormir encor:
Éveillez-vous, mon doux trésor!
L'aube pleure sous les feuillées,
Le ciel désert est plein d'ennui.
-- Ouvrez les yeux et rendez-lui
Les deux étoiles envolées!
III
Voici que les grans lys ont vêtu leur blancheur:
Sur les gazons tremblants l'aube étend sa fraîcheur!
C'est le printemps! c'est le matin!
Double jeunesse.
Ma mie, en s'éveillant, m'a dit:
Le beau soleil!
Le temps est donc venu que tout charme renaisse.
Partout des chants! Partout des fleurs! Double réveil!
Mais le tièdeur de l'air la rendant moins farouche, Je me penchai vers elle et je posai ma bouche
Sur son front et sur ses cheveux, double trésor!
The frightened stars have just flown from the sky I know two that have hidden themselves, sweetheart, in your pretty eyes,
In the shade of your silky eyelashes and beneath your lowered eyelids: Wait! my joyful kisses will soon have brought them out of hiding!
You pretend to still be asleep: Wake up, my dear treasure! The dawn weeps beneath the leaves,
The empty sky is full of boredom. Open your eyes and return to it, the two stars that flew away!
III
See how the tall blue lilies have dressed themselves in white, and dawn spreads her freshness on the trembling lawn! It is Spring! It is Morning! The time of double youth.
Upon awakening, the one who is mine said: What a beautiful sun! The time has come when all things charming are reborn. Songs everywhere! Flowers Everywhere! A double awakening!
Since the warmth of the air had made her receptive, I leaned to her and placed my lips upon her forehead and hair! A double treasure!
IV
Riez-vous? Ne riez-vous pas?
Quand vous l'avez dit tout à l'heure,
Ce mot! Vous l'avez dit si bas!
Je n'ai pas compris, mais je pleure.
Pitié ! votre bouche m'effleure.
Ce bruit ! Vous l'avez fait si bas!...
Si c'est un baiser, que je meure!
Sur mon cou je sens votre bras...
Vous m'avez baisé tout à l'heure!
Je n'ose y croire, mais je pleure.
VI
Que l'heure est donc brève,
Qu'on passe en aimant!
C'est moins qu'un moment,
Un peu plus qu'un rêve.
Le temps nous enlève
Notre enchantement.
Sous le flot dormant
Soupirait la grève; M'aimais-tu vraiment?
Fût-ce seulement
Un peu plus qu'un rève?...
VIII
Nous nous sommes aimés trois jours; Trois jours elle me fut fidèle.
-Trois jours! - La constance éternelle Et les éternelles amours!
Je pars! Adieu, ma chère âme, Garde bien mon souvenir!
Quoi! si tôt partir, madame Ne devez-vous revenir?
Si - je reviendrai peut-êtr; Si - bien sûr je reviendrai
IV
Are you laughing? Are you not laughing? When you said it just now That word! You said it so softly! I did not understand, but I weep.
Have pity! Your mouth brushes against me, That sound! it was so soft… If it was a kiss, oh let me die!
I feel your arm on my neck… You kissed me just now! I dare not believe it, but I weep.
VI
How brief is the hour that we spend in loving! It is less than a moment, a little longer than a dream.
Time takes away from us our delight.
Beneath the sleeping waves sighted the beach; Did you really love me? if for only a little longer than a dream?
VIII
We were in love for three days; She was faithful to me for three days. Three days! Eternal constancy, and eternal love!
I am leaving! Farewell, my love remember me well! What! You are leaving so soon, Madame; will you ever return?
Yes, I shall perhaps return; yes, of course I will return;
Va m'attendre à la fenêtre;
De plus loin te reverrai.
J'attendis à la fenêtre
Le retour tant espéré, Mais, ni bien sûr, ni peut-être, Ni jamais la reverrai!
Bien fol qui croit quand une dame
Lui jure de revenir
Je meurs! Adieu, ma chère âme, J'ai gardé ton souvenir!
just wait for me at the window, and I will be able to see you at the window
I waited at the window for her much hoped return, but neither “of course” nor “perhaps” not ever will I see her again!
He is truly mad who believes it when a lady swears to him that he will return. I die! Farewell my dear love, I have kept your memory well!
Banj Pasek and Justin Paul, known together as Pasek and Paul, are an American songwriting and composition duo for musical theater, film and television Their works include full works such as A Christmas Story and James and the Giant Peach as well as individual works that have appeared in various media, such as their song “City of Stars” which won the Golden Globe and Academy Award for best original song in its debut in the 2016 movie La La Land
Their most well-known work, Dear Evan Hansen, is widely acclaimed due to its humorous and heartfelt story that sheds light on issues such as mental illness, social anxiety, and suicide The show tells the story of Evan Hansen, a high schooler who is caught up in a case of mistaken identity by the parents of his school bully Conner They believe Evan to have been a good friend of their son who has recently taken his own life The show follows Evan's journey as he struggles to find his own place in the world, deal with his own insecurities, and helps to bring peace to a grieving family
The song Waving Through A Window is Evan’s inner monologue as he wrestles with the idea if he is forever destined to be alone in life, shackled by his depression and anxiety
Waving Through a Window
I've learned to slam on the brake Before I even turn the key Before I make the mistake Before I lead with the worst of me
Give them no reason to stare No slipping up if you slip away So I got nothing to share No, I got nothing to say
Step out, step out of the sun If you keep getting burned
And we talk and take in the view We just talk and take in the view
All we see is sky for forever
We let the world pass by for forever Feels like we could go on for forever this way, this way
All we see is light for forever 'Cause the sun shines bright for forever Like we'll be alright for forever this way Two friends on a perfect day
And there he goes Racing toward the tallest tree
From far across the yellow field I hear him calling, "Follow me" There we go Wondering how the world might look from up so high
One foot after the other One branch then to another I climb higher and higher I climb 'til the entire Sun shines on my face
And I suddenly feel the branch give way I'm on the ground
My arm goes numb I look around
And I see him come to get me He's come to get me And everything's okay
Chaplin, written by Thomas Meehan and Chris Curtis, is based upon the real life story of comic and actor Charlie Chaplin The musical showcases his entire career, from Chaplin’s first performance as a child to his acceptance of an honorary Academy Award in 1972 This acclaimed musical tells the warming story of a man who aims to make the world laugh while simultaneously struggling to find happiness within his own life
The song Where Are All The People? is one of the final songs of show, in which Chaplin’s inner monologue spills outwards as he wrestles with the notion that his time in the spotlight has passed He laments the invention of colored TV and spoken performances, wondering where everyone who once loved his performances had gone
Where Are All The People?
Once upon a time, I had the world upon a string.
Once, they stood in line to see my face upon the screen
I'd walk into the theater, and they all would call my name And I lived for those moments
Now the tide has turned, and all the glory's slipped away. Now there's someone new, and they cannot recall your name
They love you for the moment Oh, but then they let you be
And where are all the people that once loved me? Now the world's changed to color, So what can you do?
You're still black and white, so now you're old news. The movies are talking, so you're never heard you're just an old picture, from a far different world
And now all that i have is just a faded memory A wall that's full of pictures, of the way things used to be.
You search for your tomorrow, but the past is all you see.
And where are all the people? Where is my tomorrow? Where are all the people, that once loved me?