Sergio Martínez Salazar, bass, April 4, 2022 by Yale School of Music

Robert Blocker, Dean

Sergio Martínez Salazar bass Yale Opera Master of Musical Arts Degree Recital April 4, 2022 | 7:30 p.m. | Sudler Recital Hall in William L. Harkness Hall Anna Smigelskaya, piano Isabella Colbran 1785–1845

La Speranza al cor mi dice (1808)

Pietro Metastasio

Stefano Donaudy 1879–1925

O del mio amato ben (1918)

Alberto Donaudy

Vincenzo Bellini 1801–1835

Dolente immagine di Fille mia (1821)

Anonymous

Pauline Viardot 1821–1910

Morirò (1880)

Anonymous

Johannes Brahms 1833–1897

Vier ernste Gesänge (Four Serious Songs), Op. 121 I. Denn es gehet dem Menschen wie dem Vieh II. Ich wandte mich, und sahe an III. O Tod, wie bitter bist du IV. Wenn ich mit Menschen- und mit Engelszungen redete

Biblical Texts Eccles. 3:19-22 Eccles. 4:1-3 Eccles. 41:1-2 I Cor. 13:1-3,12-13

intermission Jacques Ibert 1890–1962

Chansons de Don Quichotte (1932) I. Chanson du départ II. Chanson à Dulcinée III. Chanson du duc IV. Chanson de la mort

Pierre de Ronsard Alexandre Arnoux Arnoux Arnoux

Cecil Cohen 1894–1967

Death of an Old Seaman (1932)

Langston Hughes

Howard Swanson 1907–1978

A Death Song (1951)

Paul Laurence Dunbar

This performance is in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the Master of Musical Arts 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.

Recital, Sergio Martinez - Bass.

Mosaico Italiano La speranza al cor mi dice - Colbran Pietro Metastasio La speranza al cor mi dice che sarò felice ancor ma la speme ingannatrice poi mi dice il mio timor.

Hope tells my heart

O del mio amato ben - Donaudy

Oh, lost enchantment of my dearly beloved

Hope tells my heart That I will be happy again But hope, a deceiver Then reminds me of fear.

© Donna Breitzer Alberto Donaudy Oh, lost enchantment of my dearly beloved! O del mio amato ben perduto incanto! Far from my eyes is she Lungi è dagli occhi miei who was, to me, glory and pride! chi m'era gloria e vanto! Now through the empty rooms Or per le mute stanze I always seek her and call her sempre la cerco e chiamo with a heart full of hopes? con pieno il cor di speranze? But I seek in vain, I call in vain! Ma cerco invan, chiamo invan! And the weeping is so dear to me, E il pianger m'è sì caro, that with weeping alone I nourish my heart. che di pianto sol nutro il cor.

Mi sembra, senza lei triste ogni loco. Notte mi sembra il giorno; mi sembra gelo il foco. Se pur talvolta spero di darmi ad altra cura, sol mi tormenta un pensiero: Ma, senza lei, che farò? Mi par così la vita vana cosa senza il mio ben.

It seems to me, without her, sad everywhere. The day seems like night to me; The fire seems cold to me. If, however, I sometimes hope to give myself to another cure, one thought alone torments me: But without her, what shall I do? To me, life seems a vain thing without my beloved.

Dolente immagine di Fille mia - Bellini Anonymous Dolente immagine di Fille mia, perché sì squallida mi siedi accanto? Che più desideri? Dirotto pianto io sul tuo cenere versai finor.

Sorrowful image of my Phillis

Temi che immemore de' sacri giuri io possa accendermi ad altra face? Ombra di Fillide, riposa in pace; è inestinguibile l'antico ardor.

Do you fear that, forgetful of sacred vows, that I might burn by another flame? Shade of Phillis, rest peacefully; the old flame cannot be extinguished.

Sorrowful image of my Phillis, why do you sit so desolate beside me? What more do you wish for? Streams of tears have I poured on your ashes.

Morirò - Viardot

I will die Anonymous

Morirò, morirò, sarai contenta. Più non la sentirai, l'afflitta voce! Quattro campane sentirai suonare, 'Na piccola campana a bassa voce. Quando la sentirai l'morto passare, Fatti di fuora che quello son io!

I will die, I will die, and you will be happy. No more will you hear my afflicted voice! You will hear four church bells ring, And a little bell with a deep voice. When you hear this as the corpse passes by, Go and look, for that is me!

Vier ernste Gesänge - Brahms op.121

Four Serious Songs

(Eccles. 3:19-22) Denn es gehet dem Menschen wie dem Vieh; wie dies stirbt, so stirbt er auch; und haben alle einerlei Odem; und der Mensch hat nichts mehr denn das Vieh: denn es ist alles eitel.

©Richard Stokes

For that which befalleth the sons of men befalleth beasts; as the one dieth, so dieth the other; yea, they have all one breath; so that a man hath no pre-eminence above a beast; for all is vanity.

Es fährt alles an einen Ort; es ist alles von Staub gemacht, und wird wieder zu Staub. Wer weiß, ob der Geist des Menschen aufwärts fahre, und der Odem des Viehes unterwärts unter die Erde fahre?

All go unto one place; all are of dust, and all turn to dust again. Who knoweth the spirit of man [...] goeth upward and the spirit of the beast that goeth downward to the earth?

Darum sahe ich, daß nichts bessers ist, denn daß der Mensch fröhlich sei in seiner Arbeit, denn das ist sein Teil. Denn wer will ihn dahin bringen, daß er sehe, was nach ihm geschehen wird?

Wherefore I perceive that there is nothing better, than that a man should rejoice in his own works, for that is his portion. For who shall bring him to see what shall happen after him?

II.

II. (Eccles. 4:1-3)

©Richard Stokes

Ich wandte mich und sahe an alle, die Unrecht leiden unter der Sonne; Und siehe, da waren Tränen derer, Die Unrecht litten und hatten keinen Tröster, Und die ihnen Unrecht täten, waren zu mächtig,Daß sie keinen Tröster haben konnten.

So I returned, and considered all the oppressions that are done under the sun; and behold the tears of such as were oppressed,and they had no comforter; and on the side of their oppressors there was power; but they had no comforter.

Da lobte ich die Toten, die schon gestorben waren Mehr als die Lebendigen, die noch das Leben hatten;

Wherefore I praised the dead which are already dead more than the living which are yet alive.

Und der noch nicht ist, ist besser, als alle beide, Und des Bösen nicht inne wird, das unter der Sonne geschieht.

Yea, better is he than both they, which hath not yet been, who hath not seen the evil work that is done under the sun.

III.

(Ecclus. 41: 1-2) O Tod, wie bitter bist du, Wenn an dich gedenket ein Mensch, Der gute Tage und genug hat Und ohne Sorge lebet; Und dem es wohl geht in allen Dingen Und noch wohl essen mag!

O death, how bitter is the remembrance of thee to a man that liveth at rest in his possessions, unto the man that hath nothing to vex him, and that hath prosperity in all things; yea, unto him that is yet able to eat!

O Tod, wie wohl tust du dem Dürftigen, Der da schwach und alt ist, Der in allen Sorgen steckt, Und nichts Bessers zu hoffen, Noch zu erwarten hat!

O death, acceptable is thy sentence unto the needy and unto him whose strength faileth, that is now in the last age, and is vexed with all things, and to him that despaireth, and hath lost patience!

IV.

(1Cor. 13:1-3, 12-13) Wenn ich mit Menschen - und mit Engelzungen redete, und hätte der Liebe nicht, so wär ich ein tönend Erz, oder eine klingende Schelle.

Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal.

Und wenn ich weissagen könnte und wüßte alle Geheimnisse und alle Erkenntnis, und hätte allen Glauben, also, daß ich Berge versetzte, und hätte der Liebe nicht, so wäre ich nichts.

And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains,

Und wenn ich alle meine Habe den Armen gäbe, und ließe meinen Leib brennen und hätte der Liebe nicht, so wäre mir's nichts nütze.

and have not charity, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, it profiteth me nothing…

Wir sehen jetzt durch einen Spiegel in einem dunklen Wort, dann aber von Angesicht zu Angesichte. Jetzt erkenne ich's stückweise; dann aber werde ichs erkennen, gleichwie ich erkannt bin.

For now we see through glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part, but then shall I know even as also I am known.

©Richard Stokes

Nun aber bleibet Glaube, Hoffnung, Liebe, diese drei; aber die Liebe ist die größeste unter ihnen.

And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.

Intermission

Chansons de Don Quichotte - Ibert

Songs of Don Quixote

I. Chanson du départ

I. Song of the departure

Pierre de Ronsard Ce château neuf, ce nouvel édifice Tout enrichi de marbre et de porphyre, Qu'amour bâtit château de son empire, Où tout le ciel a mis son artifice, Est un rempart, un fort contre vice, Où la vertueuse maîtresse se retire, Que l'œil regarde, et que l'esprit admire, Forçant les cœurs à lui faire service. C'est un château, fait de telle sorte Que nul ne peut approcher de la porte Si des grands Rois il n'a sauvé sa race, Victorieux, vaillant et amoureux. Nul chevalier, tant soit aventureux, Sans être tel ne peut gagner la place.

Chanson à Dulcinée

This new castle, this new edifice all adorned with marble and porphyry, this castle, built by love from its empire, upon which all of heaven has used its skill, is a rampart, a fortress against evil where the virtuous mistress retires, that the eye observes and the spirit admires, bringing hearts to servitude. It is a castle, built in such a way that none can approach the portal if he has not saved his lineage from the great Kings, victorious, brave and amorous. No knight, however adventurous he may be, without being such, can enter the place. Song for Dulcinea

Alexandre Arnoux

Un an me dure la journée Si je ne vois ma Dulcinée.

A day lasts a whole year if I do not see my Dulcinea.

Mais, Amour a peint son visage, Afin d'adoucir ma langueur, Dans la fontaine et le nuage, Dans chaque aurore et chaque fleur.

But, so as to sweeten my languor, Love has painted her face, in the fountain and the sky, in each dawn and each flower.

Un an me dure la journée Si je ne vois ma Dulcinée.

A day lasts a whole year if I do not see my Dulcinea.

Toujours proche et toujours lointaine, Étoile de mes longs chemins. Le vent m'apporte son haleine Quand il passe sur les jasmins.

Ever close and ever far, star of my long paths. The wind carries her breath to me when it blows across the jasmine.

Chanson du Duc

Alexandre Arnoux Je veux chanter ici la Dame de mes songes Qui m'exalte au dessus de ce siècle de boue Son cœur de diamant est vierge de mensonges La rose s'obscurcit au regard de sa joue

I want to sing here of the Lady of my dreams, who raises me above this century of mud. Her heart of diamond is untarnished by lies. The rose pales at the sight of her cheek.

Pour Elle, j'ai tenté les hautes aventures Mon bras a délivré la princesse en servage J'ai vaincu l'Enchanteur, confondu les parjures Et ployé l'univers à lui rendre homage.

For Her, I have attempted lofty adventures. My arm has delivered the princess in servitude. I have conquered the Enchanter, confounded the perjuries and bent the universe to offer her homage.

Dame par qui je vais, seul dessus cette terre, Qui ne soit prisonnier de la fausse apparence Je soutiens contre tout Chevalier téméraire Votre éclat non pareil et votre précellence.

Lady for whom I, who alone is not a prisoner of the false appearance, go over this earth, I proclaim, against any rash Knight, your unequalled splendour and your excellence.

Chanson de la mort

Song of death

Alexandre Arnoux Ne pleure pas Sancho, ne pleure pas, mon bon. Ton maître n'est pas mort. Il n'est pas loin de toi. Il vit dans une ile heureuse Où tout est pur et sans mensonges. Dans l'ile enfin trouvée où tu viendras un jour. Dans l'ile désirée, O mon ami Sancho! Les livres sont brulés et font un tas de cendres. Si tous les livres m'ont tué Il suffit d'un pour que je vie Fantôme dans la vie, et réel dans la mort. Tel est l'étrange sort du pauvre Don Quichotte.

American Songs Death of an Old Seaman - Cecil Cohen Langston Hughes We buried him high on a windy hill, But his soul went out to sea. I know, for I heard, when all was still, His sea-soul say to me:

Do not cry Sancho, do not cry, good friend. Your master is not dead. He is not far from you. He lives on a happy isle where all is pure and free of lies. On the isle at last discovered where you will come one day. On the desired isle, o my good friend Sancho! The books are burned and make a heap of ash. If all the books have killed me just one is enough for me to live on, a ghost in life and real in death. Such is the strange destiny of poor Don Quixote.

Put no tombstone at my head, For here I do not make my bed. Strew no flowers on my grave," I’ve gone back to the wind and wave. Do not, do not weep for me, For I am happy with the sea. A death Song *Adaptation from Paul Laurence Dunbar’s Poem Lay me down beneath the willows in the grass, Where the branch ‘ll go a singin’ as it pass. And when I’m lyin’ low, I can hear it as it goes singin’, “Sleep my honey, take your rest at last.” Lay me nigh to where it makes a little pool. And the water stands so quiet like and cool. Where the little birds in spring Used to come and drink and sing, And the children waded on their way to school. Let me settle when my shoulders drop their load Nigh enough to hear the noises in the road, For I think the last long rest Goin’ to soothe my spirit best If I’m lying ‘mongst the things I’ve always knowed.