Robert Blocker, Dean November 24, 2020 11:00 am | Morse Recital Hall in Sprague Memorial Hall
master of musical arts degree recital
Ryan Capozzo tenor Opera
Gerald Martin Moore piano Gustav Mahler 1860–1911
Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen (1885) I. Wenn mein Schatz Hochzeit macht II. Ging heut' Morgen über's Feld III. Ich hab' ein glühend Messer IV. Die zwei blauen Augen von meinem Schatz
Mahler
Benjamin Britten 1913–1976
Selections from Who are these children?, Op. 84 III. Nightmare VI. Slaughter IX. Who are these children? XI. The children
William Soutar
intermission Jonathan Dove b. 1959
Out of Winter (2003) Song I Song II Song III Song IV Song V Song VI
Robert Tear
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart 1756–1791
Müsst’ ich auch durch tausend Drachen, K. 435
Unknown
This performance is in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the master of musical arts degree.
TEXT & TRANSLATIONS Ryan Capozzo, tenor
LIEDER EINES FAHRENDEN GESELLEN
SONGS OF A WAYFARER
I. WENN MEIN SCHATZ HOCHZEIT MACHT
WHEN MY LOVE HAS HER WEDDING-DAY
Wenn mein Schatz Hochzeit macht, Fröhliche Hochzeit macht, Hab’ ich meinen traurigen Tag! Geh’ ich in mein Kämmerlein, Dunkles Kämmerlein! Weine! wein’! Um meinen Schatz, Um meinen lieben Schatz!
When my love has her wedding-day, Her joyous wedding-day, I have my day of mourning! I go into my little room, My dark little room! I weep, weep! For my love, My dearest love!
Blümlein blau! Blümlein blau! Verdorre nicht! Verdorre nicht! Vöglein süß! Vöglein süß! Du singst auf grüner Heide! “Ach, wie ist die Welt so schön! Ziküth! Ziküth!”
Blue little flower! Blue little flower! Do not wither, do not wither! Sweet little bird! Sweet little bird! Singing on the green heath! “Ah, how fair the world is! Twee-toot! Twee-toot!”
Singet nicht! Blühet nicht! Lenz ist ja vorbei! Alles Singen ist nun aus! Des Abends, wenn ich schlafen geh’, Denk’ ich an mein Leid! An mein Leide!
Do not sing! Do not bloom! For spring is over! All singing now is done! At night, when I go to rest, I think of my sorrow! My sorrow!
II. GING HEUT’ MORGEN ÜBER’S FELD
I WALKED ACROSS THE FIELDS THIS MORNING
Ging heut’ morgen über’s Feld, Tau noch auf den Gräsern hing; Sprach zu mir der lust’ge Fink: “Ei du! Gelt? Guten Morgen! Ei, Gelt? Du! Wird’s nicht eine schöne Welt? Zink! Zink! Schön und flink! Wie mir doch die Welt gefällt!”
I walked across the fields this morning, Dew still hung on the grass, The merry finch said to me: ‘You there, hey – Good morning! Hey, you there! Isn’t it a lovely world? Tweet! Tweet! Bright and sweet! O how I love the world!’
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Auch die Glockenblum’ am Feld Hat mir lustig, guter Ding’, Mit den Glöckchen, klinge, kling, Ihren Morgengruß geschellt: “Wird’s nicht eine schöne Welt? Kling! Kling! Schönes Ding! Wie mir doch die Welt gefällt!”
And the harebell at the field’s edge, Merrily and in good spirits, Ding-ding with its tiny bell Rang out its morning greeting: ‘Isn’t it a lovely world? Ding-ding! Beautiful thing! O how I love the world!’
Und da fing im Sonnenschein Gleich die Welt zu funkeln an; Alles, alles, Ton und Farbe gewann! Im Sonnenschein! Blum’ und Vogel, groß und klein! “Guten Tag! Guten Tag! Ist’s nicht eine schöne Welt? Ei, du! Gelt? Schöne Welt!”
And then in the gleaming sun The world at once began to sparkle; All things gained in tone and colour! In the sunshine! Flower and bird, great and small. “Good day! Good day! Isn’t it a lovely world? Hey, you there?! A lovely world!”
Nun fängt auch mein Glück wohl an? Nein! Nein! Das ich mein’, Mir nimmer, nimmer blühen kann!
Will my happiness now begin? No! No! The happiness I mean Can never bloom for me!
III. ICH HAB’ EIN GLÜHEND MESSER
I HAVE A GLEAMING KNIFE
Ich hab’ ein glühend Messer, Ein Messer in meiner Brust, O weh! O weh! Das schneid’t so tief In jede Freud’ und jede Lust, So tief! so tief! Es schneid’t so weh und tief!
I have a gleaming knife, A knife in my breast, Alas! Alas! It cuts so deep Into every joy and every bliss, So deep, so deep! It cuts so sharp and deep!
Ach, was ist das für ein böser Gast! Nimmer hält er Ruh’, Nimmer hält er Rast! Nicht bei Tag, Nicht bei Nacht, wenn ich schlief! O weh! O weh! O weh!
Ah, what a cruel guest it is! Never at peace, Never at rest! Neither by day Nor by night, when I’d sleep! Alas! Alas! Alas!
Wenn ich in dem Himmel seh’, Seh’ ich zwei blaue Augen steh’n! O weh! O weh! Wenn ich im gelben Felde geh’, Seh’ ich von fern das blonde Haar Im Winde wehn! O weh! O weh! Wenn ich aus dem Traum auffahr’ Und höre klingen ihr silbern Lachen, O weh! O weh! Ich wollt’, ich läg’ auf der schwarzen Bahr’, Könnt’ nimmer die Augen aufmachen!
When I look into the sky, I see two blue eyes! Alas! Alas! When I walk in the yellow field, I see from afar her golden hair Blowing in the wind! Alas! Alas! When I wake with a jolt from my dream And hear her silvery laugh, Alas! Alas! I wish I were lying on the black bier, And might never open my eyes again!
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IV. DIE ZWEI BLAUEN AUGEN VON MEINEM SCHATZ
THE TWO BLUE EYES OF MY LOVE
Die zwei blauen Augen von meinem Schatz, Die haben mich in die weite Welt geschickt. Da mußt’ ich Abschied nehmen Vom allerliebsten Platz! O Augen blau, warum habt ihr mich angeblickt? Nun hab’ ich ewig Leid und Grämen!
The two blue eyes of my love Have sent me into the wide world. I had to bid farewell To the place I loved most! O blue eyes, why did you look on me? Grief and sorrow shall now be mine forever!
Ich bin ausgegangen in stiller Nacht, Wohl über die dunkle Heide. Hat mir niemand Ade gesagt, Ade! Mein Gesell’ war Lieb’ und Leide!
I set out in the still night, Across the dark heath. No one bade me farewell, farewell! My companions were love and sorrow!
Auf der Straße stand ein Lindenbaum, Da hab’ ich zum ersten Mal im Schlaf geruht! Unter dem Lindenbaum, Der hat seine Blüten über mich geschneit, Da wußt’ ich nicht, wie das Leben tut, War alles, alles wieder gut! Alles! Alles! Lieb und Leid, und Welt und Traum!
A lime tree stood by the roadside, Where I first found peace in sleep! Under the linden tree, Which snowed its blossom upon me, I was not aware of how life hurts, And all, all was well once more! All! All! Love and sorrow, and world and dream! Translation © Richard Stokes, author of The Book of Lieder, published by Faber, provided courtesy of Oxford Lieder (www.oxfordlieder.co.uk)
WHO ARE THESE CHILDREN?
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III. NIGHTMARE
VI. SLAUGHTER
The tree stood flowering in a dream: Beside the tree a dark shape bowed: As lightning glittered the axe-gleam Across the wound in the broken wood.
Within the violence of the storm The wise men are made dumb: Young bones are hollowed by the worm; The babe dies in the womb.
The tree cried out with human cries: From its deepening hurt the blood ran: The branches flowered with children’s eyes And the dark murderer was a man.
Above the lover’s mouth is pressed The silence of a stone: Fate rides upon the iron beast And tramples cities down.
There came a fear which sighed aloud; And with its fear the dream-world woke: Yet in the day the tree still stood Bleeding beneath the axe-man’s stroke.
And shall the multitudinous grave Our enmity inter; These dungeons of misrule enslave Our bitterness and fear? All are the conquered; and in vain The laurel binds the brow: The phantoms of the dead remain And our faces show.
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IX. WHO ARE THESE CHILDREN?
XI. THE CHILDREN
With easy hands upon the rein, And hounds at their horses feet, The ladies and the gentlemen Ride through the village street.
Upon the street they lie Beside the broken stone: The blood of children stares from the broken stone.
Brightness of blood upon the coats And on the women’s lips: Brightness of silver at the throats And on the hunting whips.
Death came out of the sky In the bright afternoon: Darkness slanted over the bright afternoon.
Is there a dale more calm, more green Under this morning hour; A scene more alien than this scene Within a world at war? Who are these children gathered here Out of the fire and smoke That with remembering faces stare Upon the foxing folk?
Again the sky is clear But upon earth a stain: The earth is darkened with a darkening stain: A wound which everywhere Corrupts the hearts of men: The blood of children corrupts the hearts of men. Silence is in the air: The stars move to their places: Silent and serene the stars move to their places: But from earth the children stare With blind and fearful faces: And our charity is in the children’s faces.
OUT OF WINTER
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SONG I
SONG II
Seconds slipping into sand, The gale heaves through empty trees. The seat is still half occupied, How many days has the sun been blind?
Sitting alone on my seat in the train I watch the country pass. The birds, long gone, still fleck the sun. The furrow remains, the fish now dark Sucking the stones deep down. ‘How are you?’ she asks, I say ‘Fine.’ Her mind is sharp, her body divine. We leave the train, marry, do what people do. Now she is bones all chipped and traced, And of her I little knew. The train goes on. Where am I going? From where did I come?
Little time to understand, Perhaps no more new leaves, The seat’s white-spored with fungus, Grey beard’s near to painful knees. The late linnet shaves her song, Then gives best to the darkness. The silver moon’s eclipsed by snow. Clouds, steamy, roll on and go. Soon no trees, no gale, no time nor seat. No linnet days, no clouds, nor sun. No breath, no voice, nor blood in veins, No start, no go, no care, nor fear.
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SONG III
SONG V
Eternity is long enough just for a laugh. Time drops dead when you laugh. No place for epitaph or draw a graph To write a paragraph or drink a carafe, To touch a calf, to ride a giraffe. To read the Telegraph or consort with riff-raff, To be a polymath or even be photographed. With laughter there is no hereafter.
Because I will not follow you You follow me. I hear your pads from close and near, Seeking hide in needled forests Into which no light may pierce And in blue under-water caves You still blind-stalk this pitiful prey. Crouching in the runnels of your cool grey brain, Even here you find me. Kill me, but do not pity me. Whether infinite negation or starry eternity I do not see you.
SONG IV From that moment the vicar declined. He’d seen a vision; it wasn’t for him. His turkey-cock trot became a stoop, He was no longer for the heavenly coop. Those angels, how they sang, but not for him, Crooning ‘Ephraim, Ephraim’, again and again In organum, plainsong, polyphonous quatrains, ‘Ephraim, Ephraim, Ephraim!’ But not for him, but not for him. He’d never had a talent for God, and they knew, Nor for the spirit nor kindness, and they knew. For LOVE, no idea above the celluloid collar. In his soul there was nothing but choler, and they knew. He thought frost was frost and dusk was dusk No idea of the numinous, the Great God in the dust. When he died, they buried his husk. No cherubim nor seraphim turned up for the task.
SONG VI And yet how Zadok and the Higher Ridge combine. The car drives on and we do not wipe our eyes And those other eyes in which we are reflected And those other souls by whom we feel neglected. How blessed may we be in such epiphany, When we can see, when we can truly see?
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MÜSST’ ICH AUCH DURCH TAUSEND DRACHEN
I MUST THROUGH ONE THOUSAND DRAGONS
Müsst’ ich auch durch tausend Drachen Die mit aufgesperrtem Rachen Lieschen Tag und Nacht bewachen, Eine blut'ge Bahn mir machen. Drohte mir mit Schwert und Speer Auch ein ganzes Ritterheer, Stritt ich ihnen Lieschen ab, Oder sänk ins frühe Grab. Will man Güter, Blut und Leben, Für mein Lieschen, ich will's geben. Lüstet's euch nach meinem Gut, Oder fordert ihr mein Blut, Hier ist Gut, ist Leben, Doch mein Lieschen lasset mir.
I must through one thousand dragons, Who with gaping jaws Guard my lady day and night, Make myself a bloody path. Even if threatened with sword and spear By an entire army of knights, I will fight to save my lady, Or I will sink into an early grave. If they want my possessions, blood and life, I will give them up for my lady. If they covet my estate, Or demand my blood, Here is my estate, here is my life, But leave me my lady. Translation by Ryan Capozzo
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