jonathan slade flute
artist diploma degree recital March 5, 2015 • Thursday at 4:30 pm Sudler Recital Hall
Robert Blocker, Dean
Artist Diploma Degree Recital
jonathan slade flute
Gabriel Fauré 1845–1924 Transcribed by Jonathan Slade & Haley Rhodeside
Prison, Op. 83, No. 1 Tristesse, Op. 6, No. 2 Lydia, Op. 4, No. 2 Après un rêve, Op. 7, No. 1 Haley Rhodeside, harp
Francis Poulenc 1899–1963
Sonata for Flute and Piano (1957) I. Allegro malinconico II. Cantilena: Assez lent III. Presto giocoso Cornelia Sommer, piano
Jonathan Slade b. 1986
The Passage of Time (2015) I. Clair de Lune II. L’alba sepàra dalla luce l’ombra III. Des Dichters Abendgang Evanna Chiew, mezzo-soprano Cornelia Sommer, piano intermission
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart 1756–1791
Concerto for Flute, Harp, and Orchestra in C major, K. 299 I. Allegro II. Andantino III. Rondeau – Allegro Haley Rhodeside, harp Fiona Last, Kemp Jernigan, oboe Patrick Jankowski, Chuta Chulavalaivong, horn Mélanie Clapiès, Jessica Oddie, violin David Mason, viola • Pall Kalmansson, cello Samuel Bobinski, double bass
This performance is in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the Artist Diploma degree.
Texts & Translations
gabriel fauré Prison Text by Paul Verlaine
Prison Translation by Jonathan Slade
Le ciel est, par-dessus le toit, Si bleu, si calme! Un arbre, par-dessus le toit, Berce sa palme.
The sky above the roof, So blue, so calm! A tree, above the roof, Sways its leaves.
La cloche, dans le ciel qu’on voit, Doucement tinte. Un oiseau sur l’arbre qu’on voit Chante sa plainte.
The bell, within the sky I see, Gently rings. A bird, upon on the tree I see, Plaintively sings.
Mon Dieu, mon Dieu, la vie est là Simple et tranquille. Cette paisible rumeur-là Vient de la ville.
My God, my God, life is there Simple and serene. That peaceful murmur there Comes from the town.
Qu’as-tu fait, ô toi que voilà Pleurant sans cesse, Dis, qu’as-tu fait, toi que voilà, De ta jeunesse?
O you, O you, what have you done, Weeping without end, Say, O say, what have you done With all your youth?
Tristesse Text by Théophile Gautier
Sadness Translation by Jonathan Slade
Avril est de retour, La première des roses, De ses lèvres mi-closes, Rit au premier beau jour, La terre bien heureuse S’ouvre et s’épanouit; Tout aime, tout jouit. Hélas! j’ai dans le coeur une tristesse affreuse.
April has returned, the first of the roses, with its half-opened lips, smiles at the first fine day, The joyful earth opens up and outward; Everything loves and rejoices. Alas! in my heart I have a terrible sadness.
Les buveurs en gaîté, Dans leurs chansons vermeilles, Célèbrent sous les treilles Le vin et la beauté ; La musique joyeuse, Avec leur rire clair S’éparpille dans l’air. Hélas! j’ai dans le coeur une tristesse affreuse.
Merrily the drinkers, with their hearty songs under the trellises celebrate wine and beauty; The joyful music, and their bright laughter float out in the air. Alas! in my heart I have a terrible sadness.
Texts & Translations
En déshabillés blancs Les jeunes demoiselles S’en vont sous les tonnelles Au bras de leur galants La lune langoureuse Argente leurs baisers Longuement appuyés, Hélas! j’ai dans le coeur une tristesse affreuse.
In scant white dresses the girls walk off under the arbors arm in arm with their lovers. The languid moon shines its silver light on their long pressed kisses, Alas! in my heart I have a terrible sadness.
Moi, je n’aime plus rien: Ni l’homme, ni la femme, Ni mon corps, ni mon âme, Pas même mon vieux chien. Allez dire qu’on creuse, Sous le pâle gazon Une fosse sans nom! Hélas! j’ai dans le coeur une tristesse affreuse.
As for me, I love nothing any more: neither man nor woman, nor my body, nor my soul, not even my old dog. Go tell them to dig, under the pale grass a grave without a name! Alas! in my heart I have a terrible sadness.
Lydia Text by Leconte de Lisle
Lydia Translation by Jonathan Slade
Lydia sur tes roses joues Et sur ton col frais et si blanc, Que le lait, coule étincelant L’or fluide que tu dénoues;
Lydia, on your rosy cheeks, And on your neck, so fresh and white, Flow sparklingly The fluid golden tresses which you loosen.
Le jour qui luit est le meilleur, Oublions l’éternelle tombe. Laisse tes baisers de colombe Chanter sur tes lèvres en fleur.
This day that shines is the best of all; Let us forget the eternal grave, Let your kisses, your kisses of a dove, Sing on your blossoming lips.
Un lys caché répand sans cesse Une odeur divine en ton sein; Les délices comme un essaim Sortent de toi, jeune déesse.
A hidden lily spreads unceasingly A divine fragrance on your breast; Numberless delights Emanate from you, young goddess,
Je t’aime et meurs, ô mes amours. Mon âme en baisers m’est ravie! O Lydia, rends-moi la vie, Que je puisse mourir toujours!
I love you and die, oh my love; Kisses have carried away my soul! Oh Lydia, give me back life, That I may die, forever die!
Texts & Translations
Après un rêve Anonymous, Romain Bussine (French translation)
After a dream Translation by Jonathan Slade
Dans un sommeil que charmait ton image Je rêvais le bonheur, ardent mirage, Tes yeux étaient plus doux, ta voix pure et sonore, Tu rayonnais comme un ciel éclairé par l’aurore;
In a slumber enchanted by your image I dreamt of happiness, a burning mirage, Your eyes were more soft, your voice pure and clear, You shone like the heavens lit up by the dawn;
Tu m’appelais et je quittais la terre Pour m’enfuir avec toi vers la lumière, Les cieux pour nous entr’ouvraient leurs nues, Splendeurs inconnues, lueurs divines entrevues,
You called me and I left the earth To run away with you towards the light, The skies opened their clouds for us, Unknown splendours, divine glimmers glimpsed,
Hélas! Hélas! triste réveil des songes Je t’appelle, ô nuit, rends moi tes mensonges, Reviens, reviens radieuse, Reviens ô nuit mystérieuse!
Alas! Alas! the bitter awaking from dreams I beg you, O night, give me back your lies, Come back, come back radiant, Come back, O mysterious night.
jonathan slade Clair de Lune Text by Paul Verlaine
Moonlight Translation by Jonathan Slade
Votre âme est un paysage choisi Que vont charmant masques et bergamasques, Jouant du luth et dansant, et quasi Tristes sous leurs déguisements fantasques!
Your soul is a chosen landscape charmed by masquers and revellers playing the lute and dancing and almost sad beneath their strange disguises!
Tout en chantant sur le mode mineur L’amour vainqueur et la vie opportune. Ils n’ont pas l’air de croire à leur bonheur, Et leur chanson se mêle au clair de lune,
Even while singing, in a minor key, of victorious love and a life of good fortune they do not seem to believe in their happiness, and their song mingles with the moonlight,
Au calme clair de lune triste et beau, Qui fait rêver, les oiseaux dans les arbres, Et sangloter d’extase les jets d’eau, Les grands jets d’eau sveltes parmi les marbres!
The calm moonlight, sad and beautiful, which sets the birds dreaming in the trees, and makes the fountains sob with ecstasy, the tall slender fountains among the marble statues!
Texts & Translations
L’alba sepàra dalla luce l’ombra Text by Gabriele d’Annunzio
The dawn divides the darkness from the light Translation by Jonathan Slade
L’alba sepàra dalla luce l’ombra, E la mia voluttà dal mio desire. O dolce stelle, è l’ora di morire. Un più divino amor dal ciel vi sgombra.
The dawn divides the darkness from the light, And my sensual pleasure from my desire, O sweet stars, the hour of death is now at hand: A love more holy sweeps you from the skies.
Pupille ardenti, O voi senza ritorno Stelle tristi, spegnetevi incorrotte! Morir debbo. Veder non voglio il giorno, Per amor del mio sogno e della notte.
Gleaming eyes, O you who’ll never return, sad stars, snuff out your innocent light! I must die, I do not want to see the day, For love of my own dream and of the night.
Chiudimi, O Notte, nel tuo sen materno, Mentre la terra pallida s’irrora. Ma che dal sangue mio nasca l’aurora E dal sogno mio breve il sole eterno!
Envelop me, O Night in your maternal breast, While the pale earth bathes itself in dew; But let the dawn rise from my blood And from my little dream the eternal sun!
Des Dichters Abendgang Text by Johann Ludwig Uhland
Of the poet’s evening walk Translation by Jonathan Slade
Ergehst du dich im Abendlicht, Das ist die Zeit der Dichterwonne So wende stets dein Angesicht Zum Glanze der gesunknen Sonne! In hoher Feier schwebt dein Geist, Du schauest in des Tempels Hallen, Wo alles Heil’ge sich erschließt Und himmlische Gebilde wallen.
If you go for a stroll in the evening light, That’s the time of a poet’s bliss Then you turn your face always Towards the light of the receding sun! Your spirit soars in royal celebration, You peer into the halls of the temple, Where all salvation unlocks itself And heavenly forms float in the air.
Wann aber um das Heiligtum Die dunkeln Wolken niederrollen: Dann ist’s vollbracht, du kehrest um, Beseligt von dem Wundervollen. In stiller Rührung wirst du gehn, Du trägst in dir des Liedes Segen; Das Lichte, das du dort geseh’n, Umglänzt dich mild auf finstern Wegen.
When, however, around the sanctuary The dark clouds roll down, Then it is done, you turn away Blessed by all the wonders. In silent emotion you will go, You carry within you the blessing of song, The light, that you saw there, Gently shines upon you on the dark paths.
As a courtesy to the performers and audience, silence electronic devices. Please do not leave the hall during selections. Photography or recording of any kind is prohibited. For more information on upcoming events: 203 432-4158 • music.yale.edu If you do not intend to save your program, please recycle it in the baskets at the exit doors.
Robert Blocker, Dean