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Robert Blocker, Dean

Anna Kelly mezzo-soprano Yale Opera Master of Music Degree Recital April 1, 2022 | 4:30 p.m. | Morse Recital Hall in Sprague Memorial Hall Anna Smigelskaya, piano

Hector Berlioz 1803–1869

Les nuits d’été, Op. 7 I. Villanelle II. Le spectre de la rose

Théophile Gautier

Edvard Grieg 1843–1907

Haugtussa, Op. 67 I. Det syng II. Veslemøy III. Blåbær-li IV. Møte V. Elsk VI. Killingdans VII. Vond dag VIII. Ved Gjætle-Bekken

Arne Garborg

intermission

Gustav Mahler 1860–1911

Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen (1883–85) I. Wenn mein Schatz Hochzeit macht II. Ging heut’ Morgen übers Feld III. Ich hab’ ein glühend Messer IV. Die zwei blauen Augen von meinem Schatz

Gustav Mahler

This performance is in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the Master of Music degree. As a courtesy to others, please silence all devices. Photography and recording of any kind are strictly prohibited. Please do not leave the hall during musical selections. Thank you.

A Second Year Masters Recital: Text, Translations, and Notes Anna Kelly mezzo-soprano

Selections from Les Nuits d’été, Op. 27 (1841) Music written by Hector Berlioz (1803-1869) Text from La comédie de la mort by Théophile Gautier (1811-1872) In 1827, British Shakespearan actor Charles Kemble brought his theatre company to Paris, where the group performed several plays, including Hamlet and Romeo and Juliet, at the iconic OdéonThéâtre de l’Europe. In the audience were longtime friends and neighbors Hector Berlioz and Théophile Gautier, along with other key members of the literary and musical salon culture of Romantic era Paris. Both artists were oored by the performance, particularly that of Harriet Smithson, who played both Ophelia and Juliet, and each artist developed a lifelong love of Shakespeare’s works, and set out to create work inspired by the Bard’s plays. In uenced by the work of Shakespeare, Goethe, and particularly Dante, the poetry collection La comédie de la mort is considered Gautier’s greatest Romantic work, and embodies Gautier’s central philosophical belief in art and experience for their own sakes, as well as being an exploration of the central aspects of death and beauty. Mirroring Dante in the Inferno, the main character is guided through the underworld, by a deceased young woman presenting multiple tableaux that explore the concept of death as an escape from the pain of life, making it a transcendent experience akin to love

It is presumed that Berlioz read La comédie de la mort before its publication in 1838, and it is known that Gautier was greatly pleased with Berlioz’ desire to set six of those poems to music. The collection was originally written for medium voice and piano, but Berlioz later orchestrated

YALE SCHOOL OF MUSIC Robert Blocker, Dean Friday, April 1, 2021 at 4:30 pm Morse Recital Hall in Sprague Memorial Hall

1 Villanell

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Far, very far we’ll stray from our path Let us startle the hidden rabbi And the deer re ected in mirror of springs Admiring his great lowered antlers Then home we go, wholly happy, comfortabl Entwining our ngers like basket

Loin, bien loin, égarant nos courses Faisons fuir le lapin caché Et le daim au miroir des source Admirant son grand bois penché Puis, chez nous, tout heureux, tout aises En paniers enlaçant nos doigts

The spring has come, my love. It is the season lovers bless, And the birds, preening their wings, Sing their songs from the edge of their nests Oh! Come, then, to this bank of mos To speak of our beautiful love And tell me in your voice so sweet Forever

Le printemps est venu, ma belle; C’est le mois des amants bén Et l’oiseaux satinant son ail Dit ses vers au rebord du nid Oh! viens donc sur ce banc de mousse Pour parler de nos beaux amours Et dis-moi de ta voix si douce Toujours

When the new season comes When the cold will have disappeare We two will go, my beauty To gather lilies-of-the-valley in the woods Under our feet scattering the pearl We see trembling in the morning Let us go and hear the blackbird Sing

Quand viendra la saison nouvelle Quand auront disparu les froids Tous les deux nous irons, ma belle Pour cueillir le muguet aux bois Sous nos pieds égrenant les perle Que l’on voit au matin trembler Nous irons écouter les merle Sif er

The most lighthearted of the songs, Villanelle presents love in its most early and joyfu form. The pastoral elements of the song are re ected from the light repeated chords in the piano, which gives the song a sense of excitement and exhilaration

each of the songs, and dedicated them to different singers with which he enjoyed friendships and relationships. Despite clearly stating that “Villanelle” is set in spring, Berlioz chose the title of Les nuits d’été as a nod to both Shakespeare’s Midsummer’s Night Dream, and also the work of a personal friend, Joseph Merys, whose Les suits de Londres was a collection of short stories in which several characters spend a series of summer nights exchanging tales and ideas. This title acknowledges the Shakespearean inspiration for the songs, but also re ects the collection’s identity as a set of songs connected by a central idea rather than a narrative story. The songs present the ideas of love and loss, beginning with infatuation, then moving into bittersweet longing, the shock and denial of loss, and then the resumption of life and adventure through new love, despite the speaker’s knowledge that eternal love is almost always unattainable. Despite the terrible pain contained in the text of the poetry, Berlioz maintains an underlying mood of hope and peace, and the listener gains the distinct sense that the act of loving was in itself reward for the terrible pain of loss.

Let us go back, bringing the strawberries Of the forest!

Le spectre de la rose The poet describes his love for his beloved as being like the rose that she would wear to a ball - he is picked by her, and it kills him, but to him the act of love is worth his fate. Soulève ta paupière clos Qu’ef eure un songe virginal Je suis le spectre d’une ros Que tu portais hier au bal

Open your closed eyeli Which is gently brushed by a virginal dream I am the ghost of the ros That you wore yesterday at the ball

Tu me pris encore emperlé Des pleurs d’argent de l’arrosoir Et parmi le fête étoilé Tu me promenas tout le soir

You took me, still beade With the silvery tears of the watering-can And, among the starry part you carried me the entire night.

Ô toi, qui de ma mort fus cause Sans que tu puisses le chasser Toutes les nuits mon spectre ros À ton chevet viendra danser

O you, who of my death was the caus Without power to chase it away Every night my spectral rose At your bedside will come to danc

Mais ne crains rien, je ne réclam Ni messe ni De profundis Ce léger parfum est mon âme Et j’arrive du paradis

But fear nothing; I demand nothin Neither Mass nor De Profundis This light perfume is my soul And I come from Paradise

Mon destin fut digne d’envie Et pour avoir un sort si beau, Plus d’un aurait donné sa vie Car sur ton sein j’ai mon tombeau Et sur l’albâtre où je repos Un poète avec un baise Écrivit: Ci-gît une ros Que tous les rois vont jalouser

My destiny is worthy of envy And to have a fate so beautiful More than one would give his life For on your breast I have my tomb, And on the alabaster where I rest A poet with a kis Wrote: "Here lies a rose Of which all kings may be jealous.”

Haugtussa, Op. 67 (1898 Music by Edvard Grieg (1803-1869) Text from Haugtussa (1895), written by Arne Garborg (1851-1924

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When people think of Grieg, they imagine the Peter Gynt suite, but the Haugtussa cycle, the only song cycle in Grieg’s entire career, is often overlooked. Based on the poems of Arne Garborg, Haugtussa tells the story of a young Norwegian shepherdess in Christianized Norway, who has

Revenons rapportant des fraise Des bois

the ability to see the otherworldly beings of indigenous Nordic mythology. Haugtussa tells the story of Veslemøy, and follows her life from the moment when she gains her psychic abilities and resists attempts by otherworldly beings to lure her into their world, to her tragic love tryst with a young man who leaves her for a wealthier girl, making her vulnerable to the otherworldly beings, to her eventual hero’s journey through the underworld. The story invokes the mythology of Viking era Norway and contrasts it with the Christianized world of Veslemøy. The narrative explores her struggles to balance her powers with the reactions of her contemporaries, and details her coming of age and establishment of identity as she recovers from heartbreak. Haugtussa presents multiple characters - an otherworldly creature and its magical world, a third party narrator, and Veslemøy herself, with each voice presenting different facets of her story. It is symmetrically balanced, with “Møte” and “Elsk” forming the core of the cycle, and contrasting in their emotional content, with Veslemøy’s utter bliss and anxious disappointment closely juxtaposed and representing each half of the cycle. The cycle is unique not only due to its mythological subject matter, but due to Garborg’s decision to write it in Nnyorsk, a language developed by Norway as a way of establishing its cultural and linguistic identity and emphasizing its independence from Denmark (from which it had recently gained its sovereignty in 1814). Haugtussa represents Norway, her quest to establish identity and pride in her supernatural abilities representing Norway’s cultural pride. Grieg re ects these central themes in his musical setting of Haugtussa. The cycle has a distinctive folk style, and Grieg immerses us in a tonal world that is both ordinary and pastoral, yet somehow shimmering and magical, embodying Veslemøy’s emotional states and personal growth. 1 Det Syn An otherworldly creature comes to Veslemøy’s window at night. The magical spirit of the mountain wishes to abduct her, similarly to Persephone, and is luring her encouraging her to come beneath the Blue Mountain and experience a new, magical world.

Å hildrande du! med meg skal du bu, i Blåhaugen skal du din Sylvrokk snu Du skal ikkje fæla den mjuke Nott då Draumen slær ut sine Vengjer i linnare Ljos en Dagen hev åt og Tonar på mjukare Strengjer

Det voggar um Li, det svævest av Strid Oh know you the dream, know you the song

You’ll want to hide the notes And though go you astray again and agai Before long you’ll never forget them O magical you! With me shall you liv On the Blue Mountain, shall you turn your silver spinning wheel You shan’t fear the mild night When dreams spread out their wing In a milder light than the day has And they play notes on softer strings It cradles the hills, cares are forgotte og Dagen ei kjenner den Sæle-Tid

Å veit du den Draum og veit du den Song, so vil du Tonarne gøyma; og gilja det for deg so mang ein Gong, rett aldri so kan du det gløyma.

Å hildrande du! med meg skal du bu i Blåhaugen skal du din Sylvrokk sn Daylight cannot know this time of bliss

You shan’t fear what love desire Which sins and weeps and forgets His arms are hot while his temper is mil And he tames the angry bear O magical you! With me shall you liv On the Blue Mountain, shall you turn your silver spinning wheel.

Veslemø The narrator provides a physical description of Veslemøy that mirrors her supernatural abilities. Ho er mager og myrk og mj med brune og reine Dra og Augo djupe og grå og stilslegt, drøymande Lag

She is slight and dark and slende With brown and pale feature And eyes that are deep and gre And a still, dreamy manner

Det er som det halvt um halv låg ein Svevn yver heile ho i Rørsle, Tale og alt ho hev denne døyvde Ro

It is as if, half and half Lay a spell over her In movements, voice, and all She has this muted peace

Under Panna fager, men lå lyser Augo som bak ein Eim det er som dei stirande så langt inn i ein annan hei

Under forehead, lovely but lo Shine eyes as through a mis It is as if they stare Deep into another worl

Berre Barmen gjeng sprengd og tung og det bivrar um Munnen bleik Ho er skjelvande sped og veik midt i det ho er ven og ung

Only, her heart goes is fast and heav And her pale mouth quivers She is quiveringly frail and delicat While at the same time so lovely and young

Blåbær-L

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While watching her cattle herd, Veslemoy comes across a hill that is teeming with blueberries. She goes through a series of scenarios that would interrupt her idylli afternoon. Each scenario becomes more serious. Despite her personal belief that her lover’s arrival would be the best scenario of all, each scenario becomes more serious, an it is shown to the reader that the boy’s arrival would be the worst scenario of all, as it wil lead to her eventual broken heart, making her vulnerable to the underworld

Du skal ikkje ræddas den Elskhug vill som syndar og græt og gløymer hans Famn er heit og hans Hug er mil og Bjønnen arge han tøymer

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But, if it were that nice la Who comes from Skare-Brote He’d also get one on the mouth But perhaps in a different way Oh please! what am I thinking of The day is getting on I must go back to the cattle For ‘Bessie’ is dreaming of salt.

Men var det den snilde Gu der burte frå Skare-Brôte han fekk vel ein på sin Trut, men helst på ein annan Måte Å tov, kva tenkjer eg p Det lid nok på Dagen alt Eg må til Buskapen sjå ho »Dokka« drøymer um Salt.

But, if it were the wicked wolf As angry and mean as the bailiff I’d take me a birch clu And give him a good one on the snout He’s killed so many sheep and lambs, Of my mother, time after time, Yes, indeed! If he would only com He’d get what he deserves

Men var det den stygge Skrubb so arg og so hôl som Futen eg tok meg ein Bjørkekub og gav han ein god på Snuten Han reiv sund Sauer og Lam for Mor mi so trådt og tidt a sant! um han berre kom skuld’ han so visst få sitt

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But, if it were the red fox He would get a taste of my staff I would strike him down dead Even if he was the Pope’s brother Such a despicable, awful thing He takes both lambs and kids But still, he walks so proudl He has neither regrets or shame

Men var det den Reven rau so skuld’ han få smaka Staven eg skulde banka han dau um so han var Bror til Paven Sligt skarve, harmelegt Sleng Han stel både Kje og Lam Men endå so n han gjeng hev korkje Agg hell Skam

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But, what if the big bear appeared There would have to be room for both of us I wouldn’t dare say a wor To such a handsome fellow I would say only: ‘help yourself well Now you must not be shy I’ll leave you to be in peace Take for yourself what you wish!

Men kom no den Bjønnen stor Her fekk bli Rom åt oss båe Eg torde kje seia eit Or til slik ein røsjeleg Våe Eg sa berre: ver so god No må du kje vera bljug Eg lêt deg so væl i Ro ta for deg etter din Hug

Look how blue it is here Now cattle, we shall rest ourselves Oh, what ne berrie And there, the hill is full only of them No, I’ve seen nothing like it How good it is here in the mountains Now, I will eat ’til I’m full Here will I stay until evening

Nei sjå, kor det blåner her No må me roa oss, Kyra Å nei, slike ne Bær og dei, som det berre kryr a’ Nei, Maken eg hev kje set Sumt godt her er då tilfjells No vil eg eta meg mett her vil eg vera til Kvelds

The narrator describes Veslemøy’s dream come true - the boy of her dreams approaches her over the hill and they begin a blissful relationship. It is real to her, but is it truly real or is it a dream? Ho sit ein Sundag lengtande i Li det strøymer på med desse søte Tankar og Hjerta fullt og tungt i Barmen bankar og Draumen vaknar, bivrande og blid

On Sunday she sits on the hil There, streaming over her are sweet thought Her heart, full and heavy, beats in her breas And the dream awakes, trembling and happy

Då gjeng det som ei Hildring yver Nuten ho raudner heit; der kjem den vene Guten

Suddenly, like an mirage over the hill She blushes hotly; the handsome boy appears

Burt vil ho gøyma seg i Ørska brå men stoggar tryllt og Augo mot han vender dei tek einannan i dei varme Hende og stend so der og veit seg inkje Råd

She wants to hide in his brash gaze But bewitched, turns her gaze towards him They grasp each other’s warm hand And simply stand, not knowing what to do

Då bryt ho ut i dette Undringsord “Men snille deg då … at du er så stor!

Then, she bursts out in wonde ‘But never knew I … that you were so tall!

Og som det lid til svale Kveldings Stund alt meir og meir i Lengt dei saman søkjer

And as the cool evening approaches More and more longingly they reach for each other urgently his young arms embrace her nec

og brådt um Hals den unge Arm seg krøkje og øre skjelv dei saman Munn mot Munn Alt svimrar burt. Og der i Kvelden var i heite Sæle søv ho i hans Arm

And trembling, they meet mouth to mouth. Everything faints away. And in the warm evenin She sleeps – in hot happiness – in his arms.

Els Veslemøy expresses her anxiety about her relationship with the boy, and wishes that she was bound in his heart in a love that is as strong as her for him. She knows he has the upper hand in the relationship because her every thought is about him, but she is not sure if he feels the same way. The crazy boy has enchanted my mind I am caught fast like a bird in a snare The crazy boy walks so bold He knows this bird will never ee

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Den galne Guten min Hug hev dåra eg fangen sit som ein Fugl i Snåra den galne Guten, han gjeng so baus han veit at Fuglen vil aldri laus

Møt

Oh, if you would bind me with axen cord Oh, if you would bind me, so the bonds bur If you would bind me so close to yo That all the world would seem to disappear

Ja kund’ eg trolla og kund’ eg heksa eg vilde inn i den Guten veksa eg vilde veksa meg i deg in og vera berre hos Guten min

If I could witch and if I could hex I would grow within the boy I would grow me in you, withi And truly be within my boy

Å du som bur meg i Hjarta inne du Magti fekk yver alt mit Minne kvart vesle Hugsviv som framum dreg det berre kviskrar um deg, um deg

Oh you, who bear me within your heart You have power over my all my mind Every little memory that comes to min Simply whispers of you

Um Soli lyser på Himlen blanke no ser ho deg, det er all min Tanke um Dagen dovnar og Skoming fell skal tru han tenkjer på meg i Kveld

When the sun shines in the sk Now see I you, this is all my thought But when the day grows weary and dusk falls Will he be thinking of me tonight

Killingdan Veslemøy dances with her goats on the mountainside. As they dance, she names each of them. Å hipp og hoppe og tipp og toppe på denne Dag å nipp og nappe og tripp og trappe i slikt eit Lag Og det er Kjæl-i-Sol, og det er Spel-i-Sol og det er Titr-i-Li, og det er Glitr-i-Li og det er Kjæte og Lurvelæt ein Solskinsdag

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Å nupp i Nakken, og stup i Bakken og tipp på Tå å rekk i Ringen og svipp i Svingen og hopp-i hå Og det er Sleik-i-Sol, og det er Leik-i-Sol og det er Glim-i-Li, og det er Stim-i-Li og det er Kvitter og Bekkje-Glitte og lognt i Krå

Å gjev du batt meg med Bast og Bende Å gjev du batt meg, so Bandi brende Å gjev du drog meg so fast til deg at heile Verdi kom burt for meg

Oh hip and hop and trip and trop on this day Oh nip and a nap and a trip and a trap in a way. And its stay in the sun, and it’s play in the su And it’s shimmer-the-hill and glitter-the-hill And it’s a longing and a suchlik …on a sunny day Oh nip in the neck and trip on the hill an tiptoe And run in the ring and swing in the swin and a hop and a ho And it’s lick in the sun, and it’s fun in the sun And it’s glimmering and it’s shimmerin And it’s twittering and it’s brook-glitterin

Å trapp og tralle og Puff i Skalle, den skal du ha Og snipp og snute, og Kyss på Trute, den ka du ta Og det er Rull-i-Ring, og det er Sull-i-Sving og det er Lett-på-Tå, og det er Sprett-på-Tå

og det er hei-san og det er hoppsan og tra-lala Oh it’s a trip and a trap and a tap on the head that’s what you get It’s a snip and a snap, and a kiss on the snout, that’s what you can have And it’s a roll in the ring and a hum on th swin And light on your toes and and up she goe And its hey-ho, and hoo-ah! …oh tra la la.

Vond Da Veslemøy’s fears come to fruition. The boy does not show up to their planned meeting, and Veslemøy is completely shattered. Ho reknar Dag og Stund og seine Kvel til Sundag kjem: han hev so trufast lova at um det regnde småstein yver Fjell so skal dei nnast der i »Gjætarstova« Men Sundag kjem og gjeng med Regn og Rusk ho eismal sit og græt attunder Busk

She reckons up the days, hours and evening Till Sunday comes, he promised so loyall that even if it rained pebbles on the mountai They would still meet in Shepherds Hu But Sunday comes and goes with rain and storm She sits alone and weeps beneath a bush

Som Fuglen, sårad under varme Veng så Blode tippar, lik den heite Tåre ho dreg seg sjuk og skjelvande i Seng og vrid seg Notti lang i Gråten såre Det slit i Hjarta og det brenn på Kinn No må ho døy; ho miste Guten sin

Like a bird, wounded beneath its warm wing Blood drips, like hot tears She drags herself sick and shivering in bed And tosses all night, in sore tears Her heart is broken and her cheeks burning Now she must die; she’s missing the boy.

Ved Gjætle-Bekke Stunned, Veslemøy seeks comfort in the brook. She sees her dream of the boy again, and longs to escape it. Slowly, she nds herself being drawn into the brook, and she joins it on its journey, seeing herself under the bush where she cried over the boy, and asking if anyone has ever seen someone as lonely as she. Through her journey with the brook, under the earth, she nds healing from her heartbreak, and true rest, for the rst time since she met the boy. You swirling brook, you curling broo Here you are, lying cozy, warm and clear, You wash yourself clean and run over stones

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Du surlande Bekk, du kurlande Bekk, her ligg du og kosar deg varm og klår Og sprytar deg rein og glid yver Stein,

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You hum so well and murmur so quietly And glitter in the sunlight with soft ripples Oh, here will I rest

Du tiklande Bekk, du siklande Bekk her gjeng du så glad i den ljose Li Med Klunk og med Klukk, med Song og me Sukk med Sus og med Dus gjenom lauvbygd Hus med underlegt Svall og med Svæving blid Å, her vil eg drøyma, drøyma

You tickling brook, you trickling brook You go so joyfully along the light slope With clunking and clinking, with singing and sighing With rustle and roar through your leafy house With a wondrous surge and a restful sleep Oh, here will I dream

Du hullande bekk, du sullande bekk her fekk du seng under mosen mjuk Her drøymer du kurt og gløymer deg bur og kviskrar og kved i den store fred med svaling for hugsott og lengting sjuk

You whispering brook, you humming brook Here is your bed, beneath the soft moss Here, your dreams are short and so you can forge And can whisper and sing in the great stillnes Here will I remember

Å, her vil eg minnast, minnast Du vildrande Bekk, du sildrande Bekk kva tenkte du alt på din lange Veg Gjenom aude Rom? millom Busk og Blom Når i Jord du smatt, når du fann deg att Tru nokon du såg so eismal som eg Å, her vil eg gløyma, gløyma Du tislande Bekk, du rislande Bekk du leikar i Lund, du sullar i Ro Og smiler mot Sol og lær i dit Skjo og vandrar so langt og lærer so mangt å syng kje um det, som eg tenkjer no Å, lat meg få blunda, blunda

You scurrying brook, you swirling broo What did you think of on your long journey Through wide places, bush and bloom When you hid below ground? When you reappeared Has anyone been so alone as me Oh, here will I forget You wandering brook, you rippling brook You play in the meadow, you laze in peace And smile at the sun and laugh in your solitud And wander so far and learn so much Oh, do not sing of what I’m thinking now Oh, let me shut my eyes.

Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen (1897) Music and text by Gustav Mahler (1860-1911)

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The pieces in Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen are some of Mahler’s most well-known melodies, and tunes that Mahler returned to and quoted frequently in his other works, particularly in Symphony 1. Mahler wrote both the text and music for this cycle, and scholars believe there is an autobiographical impetus — Mahler began writing it after a failed relationship with soprano

og sullar så godt og mullar så smått, og glitrar i Soli med mjuke Bår’ Å, her vil eg kvila, kvila

1 Wenn Mein Schatz Hochzeit macht Instantly programmatic, this song opens by immediately dropping us into a scene: a young woman celebrates her wedding day, while her former lover listens in misery from outside the door. Immediately the main character is revealed to be emotionally unstable, vacillating between complete desolation and forced cheerfulness. On his former lovers’s happiest day, the speaker nds himself in utter despair - unable to be happy for her or to extricate himself from his obsession with her. 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 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!

Des Abends, wenn ich schlafen geh’ Denk’ ich an mein Leid 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 Blue little ower! Blue little ower Do not wither, do not wither Sweet little bird! Sweet little bird Singing on the green heath ‘Ah, how fair the world is Zikuth! Do not sing! Do not bloom

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Singet nicht! Blühet nicht Lenz ist ja vorbei Alles Singen ist nun aus

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Johanna Richter, (although he would not publish them until much later). Mahler himself said “the songs are a sequence in which a wayfaring craftsman, who has had a great sorrow, goes out into the world and wanders aimlessly.” Originally written for baritone, this song cycle is frequently performed by mezzo, in a nod to the operatic character of the pieces and the operatic tradition of the trouser role, a voice type typically indicating a young and immature man. The song cycle focuses on the emotional and physical journey of a young man recovering from a failed relationship. Compositionally and psychologically, this cycle represents young, idealistic Mahler. The cycle shows everything from his admiration of Wagner (consider the use of a “Tristan”- like chord with the deceptive resolution in the “mir nimmer” section of the second song), to early and more obvious compositional techniques than those choices he would make later in his artistic output (such as his choice to cycle through different tonal centers that destabilize and restabilize our protagonist, alternating between hysteria euphoria and utter despair). The cycle is deeply emotional, with highly contrasting dynamic areas, tonal centers, and piano textures, all intended to indicate the volatile emotional journey of the wanderer in a deeply accessible and highly effective manner

I think of my sorrow An mein Leide My sorrow!

2 Ging heut’ morgen über’s Feld The joyful pastoral character of this song presents a delightful tableau with open elds, birdsong, and general exhilaration of our speaker. The song turns bittersweet, however, when the speaker admits that he will not be able to truly enjoy his beautiful surroundings as he is too preoccupied with his lover’s rejection of him. 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 ink Wie mir doch die Welt gefällt!

I went across the eld this morning Dew still hung on the grass The merry nch said to me ‘You there, hey Good morning! Hey, you there Isn’t it a lovely world Tweet! Tweet! Bright and sweet How I like the world

Auch die Glockenblum’ am Fel 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

Also the harebell in the eld Happy, good thing With it’s little bell, ding-din Rang out its morning greeting ‘Is it not a beautiful world Ding-ding! Beautiful thing O how I love the world!

Und da ng im Sonnenschei Gleich die Welt zu funkeln an Alles, alles, Ton und Farbe gewann Im Sonnenschein Blum’ und Vogel, groß und klein

And then in the sunshin The world began to sparkle All things gained in tone and colour In the sunshine Flower and bird, great and small

“Guten Tag! Guten Tag Ist’s nicht eine schöne Welt Ei, du! Gelt? Schöne Welt! Nun fängt auch mein Glück wohl an Nein! Nein! Das ich mein’ Mir nimmer, nimmer blühen kann

‘Good day! Good day s it not a beautiful world Hey, you! Right? A lovely world! Will my happiness now begin No! No! What I mean, Can never bloom for me!

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3 Ich hab’ ein glühend Messer The most unstable of the set, this third song enters with wild Sturm und Drang explosion, and manic energy in both the voice and the piano, a literal cry of agony. The

For spring is over All singing now is done At night, when I go to rest

Ich hab’ ein glühend Messer Ein Messer in meiner Brust O weh! O weh Das schneid’t so tie

I have a gleaming knife A knife in my breast Alas! Alas It cuts so deeply

In jede Freud’ und jede Lust So tief! so tief Es schneid’t so weh und tief

Into every joy and every happiness 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 terrible guest it is Never at peace Never at rest Neither by da Nor by night, when I sleep Alas! Alas! Alas

Wenn ich in dem Himmel seh’ Seh’ ich zwei blaue Augen steh’n O weh, o weh

When I look into the heavens I see two blue eyes Alas, alas

Wenn ich im gelben Felde geh’ Seh’ ich von fern das blonde Haa Im Winde weh’n! O weh! O weh Wenn ich aus dem Traum auffahr Und höre klingen ihr silbern Lachen

When I walk in the yellow eld I see from afar her golden hai Blowing in the wind! Alas! Alas When I wake with a jolt from my drea And hear her silvery laugh

O weh! O weh Ich wollt’, ich läg’ auf der schwarzen Bahr’ Könnt’ nimmer die Augen aufmachen

Alas, alas I wish I were lying on the black bier And might never open my eyes again!

2 Die zwei blauen Augen von meinem Schatz First presented in Der Knaben Wunderhorn, then expanded in-depth in the third movement of the 1st Symphony, the nal song of this set begins with a thinly textured funereal march and employs heavy chromaticism, hints of the Phrygian mode, messa di voce dynamics mirroring the wailing of the speaker, and eventual rest under the symbolic lindenbaum tree, which often signi es death in the German lieder tradition.

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Die zwei blauen Augen von meinem Schatz

speaker compares his loss to being like a knife in his chest which Mahler indicates through sweeping piano lines, fortissimo tremolos, and aggressive dynamics, expressing the speaker’s frantic grief.

Die haben mich in die weite Welt geschickt

I had to bid farewell to the most beloved place O blue eyes, why did you look on me Now have I eternal sorrow and grie I set out in the still night Far across the dark heath No one bade me farewell, farewell My companions were love and sorrow

Ich bin ausgegangen in stiller Nacht Wohl über die dunkle Heide Hat mir niemand Ade gesagt, Ade Mein Gesell’ war Lieb’ und Leide 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 There for the rst time in sleep I rested Under the lime tre Which snowed its blossom on me Then, I didn’t know what life was like And all, all was well once more All! All Love and sorrow, and world and dream

Thank you for attending my Masters degree recital To the director of our opera program, Gerald Martin Moore, and to the dean of the Yale School of Music, Dr. Dean Blocker, thank you for the opportunity to present this recital. I also wish to extend special thanks to several people without whom this recital would not have been possible. To Anna Smigelskaya for her coaching and beautiful collaborative work at the piano. To Timothy Shaindlin and Dr. Anna Hersey, for your assistance with Norwegian diction and insights into the beautiful world of Norway, Grieg, and Garborg, and to JJ Penna, without whose guidance I could not have begun to understand this shatteringly gorgeous Mahler. To my professor of voice, Adriana Zabala for her insights into interpretation and freedom, and her guidance and support. To the many coaches, teachers, conductors, directors, and musicians who have helped make be better, before, and during this masters program, and hopefully for many years to come. Thank you.

With all my gratitude

The two blue eyes of my lov Have sent me into the wide worl Da mußt’ ich Abschied nehmen vom allerliebsten Platz! O Augen blau, warum habt ihr mich angeblickt Nun hab’ ich ewig Leid und Grämen

Anna