Songs from the Koch Collection, Dec 4 & 7

Songs from the Frederick R. Koch Collection

yale in new york David Shifrin, Artistic Director December 4, 2014 • Morse Recital Hall in Sprague Hall December 7, 2014 • Weill Recital Hall at Carnegie Hall

Robert Blocker, Dean

Songs from the

Frederick R. Koch Collection December 4, 2014 & December 7, 2014 David Shifrin, Artistic Director

Claude Debussy 1862–1918

Cinq Poèmes de Baudelaire I. Le balcon II. Harmonie du soir III. Le jet d’eau IV. Recueillement V. La mort des amants

Charles Baudelaire

Nicole Percifield, soprano Miki Sawada, piano Henri Duparc 1848–1933

Sérénade florentine Le Manoir de Rosemonde La vague et la cloche

Jean Lahor Robert de Bonnières François Coppée

Brian Vu, baritone Miki Sawada, piano intermission

As a courtesy to the performers and audience, silence all electronic devices.

Please do not leave the hall during selections. Photography or recording of any kind is prohibited.

Yale in New York

Jean Sibelius 1865–1957

Jag ville jag vore i Indialand Harpolekaren och hans son Soluppgång, Op.37, No.3

Gustaf Fröding Viktor Rydberg Tor Hedberg

Evanna Chiew, mezzo-soprano Yevgeny Yontov, piano Robert Schumann 1810–1856

Herbstlied, Op. 89, No. 3

Hugo Wolf 1860–1903

Wie des Mondes Abbild zittert Beherzigung

Siegfried August Mahlmann Heinrich Heine Johann W. von Goethe

Brian Vu, baritone Yevgeny Yontov, piano Gustav Mahler 1860–1911

Erinnerung Ich ging mit Lust durch

einen grünen Wald Selbstgefühl Scheiden und Meiden Evanna Chiew, mezzo-soprano Yevgeny Yontov, piano

Richard von Volkmann Des Knaben Wunderhorn Des Knaben Wunderhorn Des Knaben Wunderhorn

Notes on the Program

The Frederick R. Koch Collection Tonight’s concert offers musical jewels from the great wealth of the Frederick R. Koch Collection, housed at Yale University’s Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library.

Mr. Koch, who in 1961 received a Master of Fine Arts from the Yale School of Drama, assembled the collection primarily in the 1980s, in a remarkable demonstration of his care for the arts. The collection contains rare and important musical and literary manuscripts, as well as drawings, correspondence, and photographs, with a central focus on musical works of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. It includes manuscript scores in the hands of Mozart, Schubert, Fauré, and Stravinsky, as well as the complete piano-vocal draft of Pelléas et Mélisande, the single most important manuscript of Debussy’s opera. Other highlights from the operatic literature include Francesco Maria Piave’s libretto to Verdi’s Ernani, completely in the composer’s hand; the manuscript of Richard Wagner’s poem Siegfrieds Tod, the precursor of Götterdämmerung; and the manuscript of Hugo von Hofmannsthal’s play Elektra, which became the basis of Richard Strauss’s opera of the same name.

Among the literary pieces in the collection are a rare first edition of Baudelaire’s Les épaves, a manuscript poem by Verlaine, and extensive drafts for Proust’s A l’ombre des jeunes filles en fleurs (the second part of A la recherche du temps perdu).

The Cinq Poèmes de Baudelaire was composed during Claude Debussy’s “bohemian” years, a time of financial insecurity during which he first came into contact with the work of

Wagner. He traveled to Bayreuth in 1888 and 1889 to hear Wagner’s operas, and many of the songs in the Cinq Poèmes show the influence of these new musical ideas and harmonies, characterized as they are by lush chromaticism, a wide-ranging vocal line, and a richly complex piano part. The musical writing beautifully matches the rich complexity of the poetry of Baudelaire, one of the century’s greatest literary figures and most beguiling poets.

Henri Duparc, who composed just thirteen songs before illness stopped his pen at 36, also traveled to Bayreuth to hear the work of Wagner. His discernment in choosing poetic texts, and his determined efforts to revise and refine his songs, make them models of craftsmanship and dramatic effect.

Each of these brief songs tells a compelling story from the perspective of an engaged narrator, and the musical setting engages the imagination without becoming hackneyed or melodramatic.

The second half of our concert opens with songs by Schumann and Wolf, two of the greatest lieder composers of all time. Each of these three songs depicts a narrator in the realm of the natural world, confronting the impermanence of life and searching for — and, perhaps, finding — some “sweet consolation” to trust and hold on to. Listen especially for the boldness and clarity with which Wolf brings the poetry to life; how, in the words of Eric Sams and Susan Youens, “an emotion, an idea, an image in the poem is given harmonic flesh and bones, sometimes with breathtaking audacity...”

Notes on the Program

Of the four early Mahler songs presented here, the last three are settings of lyrics from Des Knaben Wunderhorn (The Youth’s Magic Horn), a collection of German folk poems assembled and edited by the early Romantic poets Achim von Arnim and Clemens Brentano, which inspired Mahler greatly.

Bruno Walter said of this inspiration, “When [Mahler] finally read the Wunderhorn, he must have felt as though he was finding his home. Everything that moved him was there—nature, piety, longing, love, parting, night, the world of spirits, the tale of the mercenaries, the joy of youth, childhood, jokes, quirks of humor all pour out as in his songs.” All those aspects that moved him —love, melancholy, nature, humor— may be found here, and exquisitely so.

In the course of his long and fascinating career Sibelius composed 111 songs, of which 109 survive. These songs form a central part of his output, and were popular among Scandinavian audiences from the start, and remain so, but as most of the songs are in Swedish, they have been less frequently performed internationally than their merit would suggest. We hope that these three final treasures from the Koch Collection may help remedy that lack.

— Vivien Shotwell

Texts and Translations

claude debussy Cinq Poèmes de Baudelaire Text by Charles Baudelaire 1. Le balcon

1. The Balcony

Mère des souvenirs, maîtresse des maîtresses, Ô toi, tous mes plaisirs! ô toi, tous mes devoirs!

Tu te rappelleras la beauté des caresses, La douceur du foyer et le charme des soirs, Mère des souvenirs, maîtresse des maîtresses.

Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses, O you, all my pleasure! O you, all my duties!

You will remember the beauty of our caresses, The sweetness of the hearth, the charm of the evenings, Mother of memories, mistress of mistresses.

Les soirs illuminés par l’ardeur du charbon, Et les soirs au balcon, voilés de vapeur rose.

Que ton sein m’était doux! Que ton cœur m’était bon!

Nous avons dit souvent d’impérissables choses Les soirs illuminés par l’ardeur du charbon.

Evenings lit with the glow of coals, And evenings on the balcony, veiled with pink mist, How soft your breast was, how warm your heart!

We often said imperishable things On evenings lit with the glow of coals.

Que les soleils sont beaux par les chaudes soirées!

Que l’espace est profond! que le coeur est puissant!

En me penchant vers toi, reine des adorées, Je croyais respirer le parfum de ton sang.

Que les soleils sont beaux par les chaudes soirées!

How the sun is beautiful on warm evenings!

How deep is space! How strong the heart!

As I leant over you, queen of the adored, I thought I was breathing the fragrance of your blood.

How the sun is beautiful on warm evenings!

La nuit s’épaississait ainsi qu’une cloison, Et mes yeux dans le noir devinaient tes prunelles, Et je buvais ton souffle. Ô douceur, ô poison!

Et tes pieds s’endormaient dans mes mains fraternelles, La nuit s’épaississait ainsi qu’une cloison.

Night would thicken like a wall around us, And my eyes in the dark would make out your own, And I would drink your breath, oh sweetness, oh poison!

And your feet would fall asleep in my fraternal hands.

Night would thicken like a wall around us.

Je sais l’art d’évoquer les minutes heureuses, Et revis mon passé blotti dans tes genoux.

Car à quoi bon chercher tes beautés langoureuses Ailleurs qu’en ton cher corps et qu’en ton cœur si doux?

Je sais l’art d’évoquer les minutes heureuses!

Ces serments, ces parfums, ces baisers infinis.

I know the art of evoking moments of happiness, And relive my past, nestling my head in your lap.

For why would I seek your languid beauties anywhere But in your dear body and your gentle heart?

I know the art of evoking moments of happiness, These vows, these perfumes, these infinite kisses,

Texts and Translations

Renaîtront-ils d’un gouffre interdit à nos sondes Comme montent au ciel les soleils rajeunis Après s’être lavés au fond des mers profondes O serments! ô parfums! ô baisers infinis!

Will they be reborn from a chasm deeper than we can fathom, As the rejuvenated suns ascend the sky, After cleansing themselves in the oceans’ depths?

Oh vows, oh perfumes, oh infinite kisses!

2. Harmonie du soir

2. Evening harmony

Voici venir les temps où vibrant sur sa tige, Chaque fleur s’évapore ainsi qu’un encensoir; Les sons et les parfums tournent dans l’air du soir, Valse mélancolique et langoureux vertige.

Here comes the time when, quivering on its stem, Each flower gives off fragrance like a censer; The sounds and perfumes circle in the evening air, Melancholy waltz and reeling languor!

Chaque fleur s’évapore ainsi qu’un encensoir, Le violon frémit comme un coeur qu’on afflige, Valse mélancolique et langoureux vertige, Le ciel est triste et beau comme un grand reposoir;

Each flower gives off fragrance like a censer; The violin throbs like a wounded heart, Melancholy waltz and reeling languor!

The sky is sad and beautiful like a vast altar.

Le violon frémit comme un coeur qu’on afflige, Un coeur tendre, qui hait le néant vaste et noir!

Le ciel est triste et beau comme un grand reposoir; Le soleil s’est noyé dans son sang qui se fige…

The violin throbs like a wounded heart, A tender heart, which hates the huge, dark void!

The sky is sad and beautiful like a vast altar; The sun has drowned in its congealing blood…

Un coeur tendre, qui hait le néant vaste et noir, Du passé lumineux recueille tout vestige.

Le soleil s’est noyé dans son sang qui se fige, — Ton souvenir en moi luit comme un ostensoir.

A tender heart, which hates the huge, dark void, And gathers every relic of the harmonious past!

The sun has drowned in its congealing blood — Your memory shines in me like a monstrance!

3. Le jet d’eau

3. The Fountain

Tes beaux yeux sont las, pauvre amante!

Reste longtemps, sans les rouvrir, Dans cette pose nonchalante Où t’a surprise le plaisir.

Dans la cour le jet d’eau qui jase Et ne se tait ni nuit ni jour, Entretient doucement l’extase Où ce soir m’a plongé l’amour.

Your beautiful eyes are tired, poor lover!

Rest awhile, without opening them, In that careless pose Where pleasure surprised you.

In the courtyard the babbling fountain, Never silent night or day, Gently prolongs the ecstasy Where love plunged me this evening.

La gerbe d’eau qui berce Ses mille fleurs, Que la lune traverse

The sheaf of water swaying Its thousand flowers, Through which the moon

Texts and Translations

De ses pâleurs, Tombe comme une averse De larges pleurs.

Shines its pallid rays, Falls like a shower Of great tears.

Ainsi ton âme qu’incendie L’éclair brûlant des voluptés S’élance, rapide et hardie, Vers les vastes cieux enchantés.

Puis, elle s’épanche, mourante, En un flot de triste langueur, Qui par une invisible pente Descend jusqu’au fond de mon coeur.

And so your soul, set ablaze By the burning flash of ecstasy, Leaps up, rapid and bold, Towards the vast enchanted skies.

And then, dying, it spills over In a wave of sad languor Down an invisible slope Into the depths of my heart.

Ô toi, que la nuit rend si belle, Qu’il m’est doux, penché vers tes seins, D’écouter la plainte éternelle Qui sanglote dans les bassins!

Lune, eau sonore, nuit bénie, Arbres qui frissonnez autour, Votre pure mélancolie Est le miroir de mon amour.

Oh you, whom night makes so beautiful, I find it sweet, as I lean over your breasts, To listen to the eternal lament That sobs in the fountain’s basin!

Oh moon, sounds of water, blessed night, Trees trembling all around, Your pure melancholy Is the mirror of my love.

4. Recueillement

4. Meditation

Sois sage, ô ma Douleur, et tiens-toi plus tranquille; Tu réclamais le Soir: il descend, le voici: Une atmosphère obscure enveloppe la ville, Aux uns portant la paix, aux autres le souci.

Be wise, oh my Sorrow, and keep more calm.

You called for Evening - it is falling, it is here.

A dusky atmosphere envelops the town, Bringing peace to some, and worry to others.

Pendant que des mortels la multitude vile, Sous le fouet du Plaisir, ce bourreau sans merci, Va cueillir des remords dans la fête servile, Ma Douleur, donne-moi la main; viens par ici,

While the vile multitude of mortals, Under the whip of Pleasure, that merciless tormentor, Goes to reap remorse from slavish parties, My Sorrow, give me your hand, come this way,

Loin d’eux. Vois se pencher les défuntes Années, Sur les balcons du ciel, en robes surannées.

Surgir du fond des eaux le Regret souriant;

Far from them. See the departed years leaning At the sky’s balconies, in outmoded dress, Surging from the river’s depths, Regret smiling,

Le Soleil moribond s’endormir sous une arche; Et, comme un long linceul traînant à l’Orient, Entends, ma chère, entends la douce Nuit qui marche.

The dying Sun falling asleep under an arch.

And, like a long shroud trailing in from the East, Listen, my dear, listen to the gentle Night approaching.

Texts and Translations

5. La mort des amants

5. The death of lovers

Nous aurons des lits pleins d’odeurs légères, Des divans profonds comme des tombeaux, Et d’étranges fleurs sur des étagères, Écloses pour nous sous des cieux plus beaux.

We will have beds filled with light perfumes, Divans as deep as tombs, And displays of exotic flowers That bloomed for us under fairer skies.

Usant à l’envi leurs chaleurs dernières, Nos deux coeurs seront deux vastes flambeaux, Qui réfléchiront leurs doubles lumières Dans nos deux esprits, ces miroirs jumeaux.

Vying to outdo their most recent passions Our two hearts will be two vast torches That reflect their double light In our two souls, the twin mirrors.

Un soir fait de rose et de bleu mystique, Nous échangerons un éclair unique, Comme un long sanglot tout chargé d’adieux;

On an evening that is all mystic blue and pink We will exchange a single radiant glance, Like a long sob laden with farewells;

Et plus tard un ange, entr’ouvrant les portes, Viendra ranimer, fidèle et joyeux, Les miroirs ternis et les flammes mortes.

And later an angel, nudging open the doors, Will come, faithful and joyous, to revive The tarnished mirrors and dead flames.

henri duparc Sérénade florentine Text by Jean Lahor

Florentine Serenade

Etoile dont la beauté luit Comme un diamant dans la nuit, Regarde vers ma bien aimée Dont la paupière s’est fermée Et fais descendre sur ses yeux La bénédiction des cieux.

Elle s’endort…Par la fenêtre En sa chambre heureuse pénètre; Sur sa blancheur, comme un baiser, Viens jusqu’à l’aube te poser Et que sa pensée, alors, rêve D’un astre d’amour qui se lève.

Star whose beauty shines Like a diamond in the night, Look down on my beloved With her eyelids closed And let upon her eyes descend The blessing of the skies.

She sleeps…Through the window Enter her blissful chamber; On her whiteness, like a kiss, Repose until dawn, And may her thoughts then dream Of a star of love that arises.

Texts and Translations

Le Manoir de Rosamonde Text by Robert de Bonnières

Manor Rosamunde

De sa dent soudaine et vorace, Comme un chien l’amour m’a mordu…

En suivant mon sang répandu, Va, tu pourras suivre ma trace…

Prends un cheval de bonne race, Pars, et suis mon chemin ardu, Fondrière ou sentier perdu, Si la course ne te harasse!

En passant par où j’ai passé, Tu verras que seul et blessé J’ai parcouru ce triste monde.

Ey qu’ainsi je m’en fus mourir Bien loin, bien loin, sans découvrir Le bleu manoir de Rosamonde.

With its sudden and voracious teeth, Like a dog love has bitten me…

If you follow my blood that was shed, Go, you could easily find my trail.

Take a horse of good breed, Go and follow my arduous road, Through pitfalls and lost trails, If the chase will not make you weary!

Passing where I have passed, You will see that alone and wounded I travelled over this sorrowful world.

And thus I wrought my own death Far, far away, without discovering The blue manor of Rosamonde.

La Vague et la Cloche Text by François Coppée

The Wave and the Bell

Un fois, terrassé par un puissant breuvage, J’ai rêvé que parmi les vagues et le bruit De la mer je voguais sans fanal dans la nuit, Morne rameur, n’ayant plus l’espoir du rivage.

Once, felled by a powerful potion, I dreamed that among the waves and the noise Of the sea, I rowed without lantern in the night, Sad rower, never hoping to reach the shore again.

L’Océan me crachait ses baves sur le front Et le vent me glaçait d’horreur jusqu’aux entrailles; Les vagues s’écroulaient ainsi que des murailles Avec ce rythme lent qu’un silence interrompt.

The ocean spat its foam on my forehead, And the wind froze with horror the marrow of my bones, The waves tumbled down like walls With a slow rhythm, broken by silence.

Puis, tout changea. La mer et sa noire mêlée sombrèrent.

Sous mes pieds s’effondra le plancher de la barque...

Et j’étais seul dans un vieux clocher, Chevauchant avec rage une cloche ébranlée.

Then, all was changed. The sea and its black fray foundered...

Under my feet the bottom of the boat collapsed.

And I was along in an old steeple, Riding furiously on a swinging bell.

J’étreignais la criarde opiniâtrement, Convulsif et fermant dans l’effort mes paupières, Le grondement faisait trembler les vieilles pierres, Tant j’activais sans fin le lourd balancement.

I clasped the noisy bell stubbornly, Convulsively, closing my eyes in the effort.

The roaring made the old stones tremble.

As I quickened continually the heavy swinging.

Texts and Translations

Pourquoi n’as-tu pas dit, o rêve! où Dieu nous mène?

Pourquoi n’as-tu pas dit s’ils ne finiraient pas L’inutile travaile et l’éternel fracas Dont est fait la vie, hélas! La vie humaine?

Why did you not tell, oh dream, where God leads us?

Why did you not tell if it will never end, The useless toil and the eternal turmoil Which makes up life, alas! The human life.

jean sibelius Jag ville, jag vore i Indialand Text by Gustaf Fröding

I wish I were in India

Jag ville jag vore i Indialand Och India vore sig själf Med pärlor till grus och rubiner till sand Och slott som på vinken af Akbars hand Drömts fram vid en helig älf.

I wish I were in India And India were true to itself With pearls for gravel and rubies for sand And castles conjured up by Akbar’s hand Dreamed up by a holy river.

Jag ville, mitt hus var af bambuns rör, Där västvinden svalkades sval Af palmer, som skuggade utanför, Och dschungeln sjönge sin vilda kör Om jakter och strider och parnings val.

I wish my house were of bamboo canes, Where the West Wind was cooled by The palm shade outside, And that the jungle sang its wild chorus Of hunting and fighting and mating games.

En flicka med hy som mahognyträ Och silke om höfter och bröst Satt lutad iskuggan af palmernas lä — Jag lade mitt hufvud mot finvulet knä Och lyddes till hviskerskans röst.

A girl with skin like mahogany And silk around her hips and breast, Sat leaning in the palm’s shade— I laid my head on her fine knee And listened to her whispering voice.

Hon talade tyst som ett skymningens sus Om själarnas tusen ars färd, Om Karmas kamp och Akasas ljus Och slocknandets ro i Nirvanas hus Vid gränsen af varandets värld.

She spoke softly of the dusk’s sigh, Of the soul’s thousand-year path, Of Karma’s struggle and Akasa’s light And of the dying peace in Nirvana’s house At the edge of the world of being.

Jag ville min själ kunde lossas ifrån Det vaknas för härjade strand, Från kalla förtorkade ögons hån, Jag ville jag vore ett drömlands son, En infödd af Indialand.

I wish my soul could be released From consciousness’ ravaged shore, From the treachery of cold, desiccated eyes.

I wish I were dreamland’s son, A native of India.

Texts and Translations

Harpolekaren och hans son Text by Viktor Rydberg

The Harpist and his son

Luften tung och dagen varm.

Hed jag haft att vandra, Gossen på min ena arm, Harpan på min andra.

Harpan trött vid strängalåt, Sonen trött vid sanddjup stråt.

Hvila godt jag unnar Harpan och min Gunnar.

Nu en milsvid tempelsal, Byggd af gran och furu, Öppnar sig med skugga sval Och jag lyssnar, huru Bäcken sorlar klar och ren, Siskan kvitrar på sin gren, Furu dunklet nunnar För min lille Gunnar.

The air was heavy and the day was warm.

Moors I had to wander, Child in my one arm, Harp in my other.

My harp was tired with songs, My son was tired from the sand-deep walk.

I would’ve gladly given them rest, My harp and my Gunnar.

Now an enormous temple hall Built from firs and pines Opened up with a cool shade And I listened to how The brook prattled, clear and pure.

The finch warbled on the branch, Dark firs hummed For my young Gunnar.

Dagen dör, en fuktig vind Andas öfver tegen, Och min gosses väna kind Lutas mot min egen Mörknad himmels stjärnebloss Blinka: Gunnar, kom till oss!

Ljufva änglamunnar Hviska: du vår Gunnar!

The day passes, a humid breeze Breathes across the glade And my lad’s soft cheek Is pressed against my own.

The darkening sky’s shooting stars Twinkle: Gunnar, come to us!

The sweetest angel’s mouth Whispers: you, our Gunnar!

Ut ur ödesdjupen fram Många källor välla.

En är bittert hälsosam: Det är sorgens källa.

Väl jag vet, du käre vän, Att du dricka skall ur den, Men för lastens brunnar Gud beskydde Gunnar.

Out of Fate’s depths Many springs are welling.

One is bitter, but salubrious: It is sorrow’s spring.

Well I know, my dearest friend, That you will drink thereof.

But from vice’s well God protect Gunnar.

Granen växte stark och rak, Och hon vedergällde Under snöbetungadt tak Den, som henne fällde Mildt med brasans ljus och glöd.

Kraftig växt och ädel död,

Pine grew strong and straight, And kindly she repaid, Under a snow-decked roof, him, Who felled her, Gently with fire’s light and warmth.

Strong growth and noble death,

Texts and Translations

Ber jag, Gud förunnar Sångarbarnet Gunnar.

I pray, God preserve For the singer’s Gunnar.

Soluppgång Text by Tor Hedberg

Sunrise

Under himmlens purpurbrand Ligga tysta sjö och land, Det är gryningsstunden.

Snöig gren och frostvit kvist Tecka sig så segervisst Mot den röda grunden.

Under heaven’s purple fire, Lie silent lake and land, It is the hour of dawn.

Snowy branch and frosty twig Form a sign of victory On the red background.

Riddarn står vid fönsterkarm, Lyssnar efter stridens larm, Trampar golvets tilja.

Men en smal och snövit hand Kyler milt hans pannas brand, Böjer mjukt hans vilja.

The knight stands by the windowsill, Listening for battle sounds, Pacing the wooden floorboards.

But a small and snow-white hand Gently cools his brow’s fire, Softly bending his will.

Riddarn sätter horn till mun, Blåser vilt i gryningsstund, Över nejd som tiger.

Tonen klingar, klar och spröd, Branden slocknar, gyllenröd, Solen sakta stiger.

The knight puts the horn to his mouth, Blowing fiercely in the hour of dawn, Over the silent land.

The note rings, clear and fragile, The fire slowly dies, golden-red, As the sun slowly rises.

robert schumann Herbstlied Text by Siegfried August Mahlmann

Autumn Song

Durch die Tannen und die Linden Spinnt schon Purpur her und hin; Will mich Wehmut überwinden, Daß ich bald im Herbste bin.

Through the fir trees and the lindens, Purple light spins here and there Melancholy seeks to overcome me with the thought That I too shall soon be in my autumn.

Nimmer! denn vom Walde klingen Märlein mir und Sprüchelein, Die mir süße Tröstung bringen Ob erstorbnem Sonnenschein.

Never! For from the forest I hear Murmured tidings and messages for me.

That bring me sweet consolation Despite the dying sunlight.

Ja, erstorben ist die Sonne Und ihr Strahl ist ohne Macht!

Dennoch spricht von ferner Wonne Greiser Wipfel Farbenpracht.

Yes, the sun has faded And its rays have lost their power!

Nevertheless, the colorful splendor of the Aged treetops speaks of a distant bliss.

Texts and Translations

hugo wolf Wie des Mondes Abbild zittert Text by Heinrich Heine

Shaking Like the Moon

Wie des Mondes Abbild zittert in den wilden Meereswogen, und er selber still und sicher wandelt an dem Himmelsbogen:

How the moons reflection trembles In the wild waves of the sea, And the moon itself quietly and securely Wanders along Heaven’s vaults.

Also wandelst du, Geliebte, still und sicher, und es zittert nur dein Abbild mir im Herzen, weil mein eignes Herz erschüttert.

Thus you, my beloved, Go about quietly and securely While your reflection trembles only in my heart, Because this heart of mine is violently shaken.

Beherzigung Text by Johann Wolgang von Goethe

Imposition

Ach, was soll der Mensch verlangen?

Ist es besser, ruhig bleiben?

Klammernd fest sich anzuhangen?

Ist es besser, sich zu treiben?

Ah, what should a human ask of life?

Is it better to remain calm and quiet?

To cling firmly to what one has?

Is it better to drive oneself onwards?

Soll er sich ein Häuschen bauen?

Soll er unter Zelten leben?

Soll er auf die Felsen trauen?

Selbst die festen Felsen beben.

Should he build himself a little house?

Should he live under tents?

Shall he trust the rocks?

Even the firmest rocks shake.

Eines schickt sich nicht für alle; Sehe jeder, wie er’s treibe, Sehe jeder, wo er bleibe, Und wer steht, daß er nicht falle!

No one way is right for all.

Let each person decide how to choose, Let each person decide where to stay, And let those who stand take care not to fall!

gustav mahler Erinnerung Text by Richard von Volkmann

Memory

Es wecket meine Liebe Die Lieder immer wieder!

Es wecken meine Lieder Die Liebe immer wieder!

My love awakens Songs forevermore!

My songs awaken Love forevermore!

Die Lippen, die da träumen Von deinen heißen Küssen,

My lips, which dream Of your hot kisses,

Texts and Translations

In Sang und Liedesweisen Von dir sie tönen müssen!

In songs and airs Must sing of you!

Und wollen die Gedanken Der Liebe sich entschlagen, So kommen meine Lieder Zu mir mit Liebesklagen!

And should my thoughts Wish to wander from love, Then my songs come To me with complaints!

So halten mich in Banden Die Beiden immer wieder!

Es weckt das Lied die Liebe!

Die Liebe weckt die Lieder!

So I hold in union The two forevermore!

Song awakens love, Love awakens songs!

Ich ging mit Lust durch einen grünen Wald Text by Des Knaben Wunderhorn

I went with joy through a green wood

Ich ging mit Lust durch einen grünen Wald, Ich hört’ die Vöglein singen; Sie sangen so jung, sie sangen so alt, Die kleinen Waldvögelein im grünen Wald!

Wie gern hört’ ich sie singen!

I went with joy through a green wood, I heard the little birds singing; They sang songs young and old, The little forest birds in the green wood!

How I loved hearing them sing!

Nun sing, nun sing, Frau Nachtigall!

Sing du’s bei meinem Feinsliebchen: Komm schier, wenn’s finster ist, Wenn niemand auf der Gasse ist, Dann komm zu mir!

Herein will ich dich lassen!

Now sing, now sing, Mrs. Nightingale!

Sing near my beloved: Come here, when it is dark; When no one is on the streets, Then come to me!

I will let you in!

Der Tag verging, die Nacht brach an, Er kam zu Feinsliebchen gegangen.

Er klopft so leis’ wohl an den Ring: “Ei schläfst du oder wachst mein Kind?

Ich hab so lang gestanden!”

Es schaut der Mond durchs Fensterlein zum holden, süßen Lieben, Die Nachtigall sang die ganze Nacht.

Du schlafselig Mägdelein, nimm dich in Acht!

Wo ist dein Herzliebster geblieben?

The day wore on, night fell; He went to his beloved.

He knocked so gently on the door: “Ah, are you asleep or awake, my dear?

I’ve stood here for so long!”

The moon looked through the little window upon the dear, sweet beloved; The nightingale sang the whole night.

You sleepy maiden, take heed!

Where has your beloved been staying?

Texts and Translations

Selbstgefühl Text by Des Knaben Wunderhorn

Ego

Ich weiss nicht, wie mir ist!

Ich bin nicht krank und nicht gesund, Ich bin blessirt und hab’ kein’ Wund’, Ich weiss nicht, wie mir ist!

I know not what is wrong with me!

I am not sick and not healthy; I am wounded and have no wound; I know not what is wrong with me!

Ich tät gern essen und schmeckt mir nichts; Ich hab’ ein Geld und gilt mir nichts, Ich weiss nicht, wie mir ist!

I love eating and can taste nothing; I have money and it does nothing for me; I know not what is wrong with me!

Ich hab’ sogar kein’ Schnupftabak, Und hab’ kein Kreuzer Geld im Sack, Ich weiss nicht wie mir ist, wie mir ist!

I don’t even have any snuff, Nor a farthing in my bag; I know not what is wrong with me!

Heiraten tät ich auch schon gern’, Kann aber Kinderschrei’n nicht hör’n!

Ich weiss nicht, wie mir ist!

I would like to marry, But I can’t stand the screaming of children!

I know not what is wrong with me!

Ich hab’ erst heut’ den Doktor gefragt, Der hat mir’s in’s Gesicht gesagt: “Ich weiss wohl, was dir ist, was dir ist: Ein Narr bist du gewiß!”

“Nun weiss ich, wie mir ist!”

I just asked the doctor today, Who said to my face: “I know well what is wrong with you: You are definitely an idiot!”

“Now I know what’s wrong with me!”

Scheiden und Meiden Text by Des Knaben Wunderhorn

Separation and Loss

Es ritten drei Reiter zum Thore hinaus, Ade! Fein’s Liebchen, das schaute zum Fenster hinaus, Ade! Und wenn es denn soll geschieden sein, So reich’ mir dein goldenes Ringelein! Ade! Ja, Scheiden und Meiden thut weh, thut weh.

Es scheidet das Kind schon in der Wieg’. Ade! Wann werd’ ich mein Schätzel wohl kriegen? Ade! Und ist es nicht morgen, ach wär’ es doch heut’!

Es machte uns Beiden wohl grosse Freud’!

Ade! Ja, Scheiden und Meiden thut weh, thut weh.

Three riders rode out of the gate, Farewell!

Dear beloved, who looked out the window, Farewell!

And if you must be separated from me, Then give me your little golden ring! Farewell!

Yes, separation and loss are painful!

It separates even the child in its cradle.

Farewell!

When will I hold my dear treasure again?

Farewell!

And it isn’t tomorrow— ah, if only it were today!

It would make us both so happy! Farewell!

Yes, separation and loss are painful!

About the Performers

Evanna Chiew, mezzo-soprano

Nicole Percifield, soprano

Canadian mezzo-soprano Evanna Chiew is a second-year student in the Yale Opera program, where she studies with Doris Yarick-Cross. With Yale Opera her roles include Angelina in La Cenerentola this past spring and Cherubino in Le nozze di Figaro in February 2015.

Originally from Alberta, Canada, Nicole Percifield is a second year Artist Diploma student in the Yale Opera program, where she studies with Doris Yarick-Cross. With Yale Opera she has performed Mimi in La bohème and will sing the role of the Countess in Le nozze di Figaro in February. Most recently she performed the title role in Suor Angelica with the New Haven Symphony Orchesetra, Marenka in The Bartered Bride with Boston Midsummer Opera, and Vitellia in Mozart’s La Clemenza di Tito in Sulmona, Italy.

Ms. Chiew completed her Bachelor of Music degree at the University of British Columbia. Straight out of high school, she made her operatic debut as the Abbess in the UBC Opera Ensemble’s production of Suor Angelica. Since then, she has played other major roles such as Prince Charming in Cendrillon, Nancy in Albert Herring, Cherubino in Le nozze di Figaro, Elizabeth Proctor in The Crucible, and Dorabella in Così fan tutte. She has made concert appearances in Dvořák’s Stabat Mater with the UBC Symphony Orchestra, the Vancouver Bach Choir’s Sing-along Messiah, and Vancouver Opera’s Voices of the Pacific Rim concert. Most recently, she sang in Bach’s Magnificat with the Vancouver Oratorio Society, Mozart’s Great Mass in C Minor and Vaughan Williams’ Serenade to Music with the UBC Symphony Orchestra. Evanna has received a number of awards for both her musical and academic abilities. She was the recipient of the 2009 Governor General’s Bronze Academic Medal, the UBC President’s Entrance Scholarship, the UBC Major Entrance Scholarship, and the Trek Scholarship for Continuing Studies. She is a two-time recipient of the Harry and Marjorie Anne Slim Memorial Scholarship in Music, the Vancouver Women’s Musical Society bursary, and the Johann Strauss Foundation Scholarship for study in Austria.

Ms. Percifield has been featured in concert performances with the Saint Paul Chamber Orchestra, performing D. Scarlatti’s Salve Regina and Pergolesi’s Stabat Mater, and with the Minnesota Orchestra. In December she will appear as the soprano soloist in Handel’s Messiah with the New Haven Sympony Orchestra. Percifield was also the recipient of an Encouragement Award at the Metropolitan Opera Upper Midwest Auditions.

As a Young Artist, she has been a Resident Artist with the Minnesota Opera, and worked with Opera Theatre of St. Louis, Santa Fe Opera, Central City Opera, Banff Opera Theatre, and the International Institute of Vocal Arts. Percifield received her B.M. from the New England Conservatory and M.M. from the Manhattan School of Music.

About the Performers

Miki Sawada, piano

Brian Vu, baritone

Japanese pianist Miki Sawada maintains an active and diverse career as a soloist, collaborative pianist, and educator. She received her Artist Diploma from Yale School of Music in 2014 under the guidance of Wei-Yi Yang, and also holds degrees from Eastman School of Music and Northwestern University. Miki’s musical interests vary from performing Beethoven’s music on historical instruments, to exploring the colorfully innovative music of the early twentieth century, to championing music by contemporary composers. Miki’s solo and chamber music performances have been featured at venues and occasions such as the Oneppo Chamber Music Series at Yale, Toronto Summer Music Festival, Aurora Music Festival (Sweden), Music on Main (Vancouver), Chicago Symphony Center’s Macy’s Day of Music, the Banff Centre, Norfolk Chamber Music Festival, and Atlantic Music Festival. She has collaborated with such notable artists as bassist Edgar Meyer, Toronto Symphony concertmaster Jonathan Crow, and violinist Axel Strauss. A passionate educator, Miki is a resident musician and founder of the piano program at Music Haven, an organization that seeks to empower youth by providing mentoring and tuition-free music education to students from underserved communities in New Haven. She is also the director of NewMusic4us, an international commissioning project with a focus on community, through which young and emerging composers will write beginner-level chamber music pieces for Music Haven students.

Described as “debonair” by the Washington Post, baritone Brian Vu, an Orange County native, is currently a student in the opera program at the Yale School of Music where he studies with Richard Cross. With Yale Opera, Mr. Vu has performed Marcello in La bohème, Dandini in La Cenerentola, Duke Robert in Tchaikovsky’s Iolanta, and Dapertutto in Les contes d’Hoffmann. He will sing the role of the Count in Yale Opera’s February 2015 production of Le nozze di Figaro. Under the auspices of Yale in New York, Mr. Vu made his Carnegie Hall debut with the works of Hindemith and his students, including Mitch Leigh’s “Impossible Dream” with the composer in attendance.

This past summer, he was a vocal fellow at Marilyn Horne’s Music Academy of the West and performed Moralès in the Academy’s production of Carmen. A former studio artist with the Wolf Trap Opera Company, Mr. Vu sang the role of Marquis d’Obigny in Wolf Trap Opera’s production of La traviata in collaboration with the National Symphony Orchestra and the Washington Chorus.

Mr. Vu holds a Bachelor of Arts degree from the University of California, Los Angeles. With OperaUCLA, he has performed Ottone in L’incoronazione di Poppea, Mercury in Orpheus in the Underworld, Chaplain in Dialogues of the Carmelites, Narciso in Agrippina, Minskman in Jonathon Dove’s Flight, and Jigger in Carousel.

A 2014 Eastern Region Finalist in the Metropolitan Opera National Council Auditions, he has also received awards from the George London Foundation,

About the Performers

Gerda Lissner Competition, Licia AlbanesePuccini Competition, Kurt Weill Foundation, and the Opera Buffs of Los Angeles.

Yevgeny Yontov, piano Yevgeny Yontov began his piano studies at the age of six with Adela Umansky, and later received his Bachelor of Music degree summa cum laude from the BuchmannMehta School of Music at Tel Aviv University, where he studied with Arie Vardi. In 2014 he received his M.M. degree from the Yale School of Music, where he studied with Boris Berman. Born in 1989 in Odessa, Ukraine, Yontov immigrated to Israel with his family in 1990. He served in the Israel Defense Forces as an Outstanding Musician and has been supported by the AICF scholarships since 1998, as well as by the organization Zfunot Tarbut. In 2013, Yevgeny won first prize and the gold medal at the Wideman International Piano Competition in the United States. Previously, he received first prize in the Tel-Hai International Concerto Competition in Israel, and in the International Piano Competition in Pinerolo, he received fourth prize and a special prize for an outstanding performance of a Beethoven sonata in the finals. He has also received first prizes in most of the major national Israeli piano competitions. An active chamber musician, Yevgeny has played chamber concerts in Israel, Europe, the United States, Canada, and South America, with artists such as the clarinetist David Shifrin. As a solo artist, he has performed on stages in Israel, the U.S., and many countries in Europe. He also performed on Israeli national TV and recorded for Israeli and Portuguese radio.

Upcoming Events

Mingus Big Band

Liederabend

december 5 Morse Recital Hall | Friday | 7:30 pm Ellington Jazz Series Celebrating the legacy of the legendary bassist and composer Charles Mingus (1922–1979) Tickets start at $20 • Students $10

december 6 Morse Recital Hall | Saturday | 7:30 pm Yale Opera An evening of Russian songs. Emily Olin, piano; Richard Cross, narrator Doris Yarick Cross, artistic director Free Admission

Angélique Kidjo december 6 Woolsey Hall | Saturday | 3 pm Special Events Afro-pop star Angélique Kidjo performs a special benefit concert with the Yale Percussion Group, Shades, and members of the Yale Concert Band.

Proceeds will benefit the Yale Africa Initiative Student Scholarships Tickets $15–$25 • Students $5

Yale Baroque Ensemble december 6 Morse Recital Hall | Saturday | 4 pm YSM Ensembles Sprezzatura: Virtuoso music of the Italian seventeenth century. Robert Mealy, director Free Admission

Vista: Music and Commentary december 7 Morse Recital Hall | Sunday | 4 pm YSM Student Ensembles Outstanding chamber ensembles share a personal take on music by Brahms, Prokofiev, Strauss, and Houghton Wendy Sharp, director Free Admission

Clarinet Studio Recital december 8 Sudler Recital Hall | Monday | 5 pm YSM Student Ensembles Students in the studio of David Shifrin perform a variety of music featuring the clarinet Free Admission

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