Recital: Elaine Daiber '21 AD, Soprano

NEC: Jordan Hall | Directions

290 Huntington Ave.
Boston, MA
United States

The Artist Diploma (AD) program is NEC's highest performance program, offering a handful of especially gifted performers the opportunity to deepen and challenge their artistry, broaden their musical perspective, and explore areas of personal and professional growth. AD recitals allow audiences to observe multiple facets of emerging artists.

Elaine Daiber '21 AD studies Voice with Carole Haber. She is the recipient of the Joan and Henry Wheeler Presidential Scholarship.
 

This performance is open to in-person audiences, and can also be viewed below via livestream.

View livestream from Jordan Hall:

Artists
  1. Olivier Messiaen | Harawi

    La ville qui dormait, toi
    Bonjour toi, colombe verte

    Montagnes
    Doundou tchil
    L’amour de Piroutcha
    Répétition planétaire
    Adieu
    Syllabes
    L’escalier redit, gestes du soleil
    Amour oiseau d’étoile
    Katchikatchi les étoiles
    Dans le noir

     

    Text

    La ville qui dormait, toi

    La ville qui dormait, toi.
    Ma main sur ton coeur par toi.
    Le plein minuit le banc, toi.
    La violette double toi.
    L’oeil immobile, sans dénouer ton regard,  moi.

    Bonjour toi, colombe verte


    Bonjour toi, colombe verte,
    Retour du ciel.
    Bonjour toi, perle limpide,
    Départ de l’eau.
    Étoile enchaînée,
    Ombre partagée,
    Toi, de fleur, de fruit, de ciel et d’eau,
    Chant des oiseaux.
    Bonjour, 
    D’eau.

    Montagnes

    Rouge-violet, noir sur noir.

    L’antique inutile rayon noir.
    Montagne, écoute le chaos solaire du vertige.
    La pierre agenouillée porte ses maîtres noirs.
    En capuchons serrés les sapins se hâtent vers le noir.
    Gouffre lancé partout dans le vertige. 
    Noir sur noir.

    Doundou tchil

    Doundou tchil…
    Piroutcha te voilà, ô mon àmoi,
    la danse des étoiles, doundou tchil.
    Piroutcha te voilà, ô mon àmoi,
    miroir d’oiseau familier, doundou tchil.
    Arc-en-ciel, mon souffle, mon écho,
    ton regard est revenu, tchil, tchil.
    Piroutcha, te voilà, ô mon àmoi
    mon fruit léger dans la lumière, doundou tchil. 
    Toungou, mapa, nama, kahipipas…
    Doundou tchil...

    L’amour de Piroutcha

    (La Jeune Fille)
    “Toungou, ahi, toungou,
    toungou, berce, toi,
    ma cendre des lumières,
    berce ta petite en tes bras verts.
    Piroutcha, ta petite cendre, pour toi.”

    (Le Jeune Homme)
    “Ton oeil tous les ciels, doundou tchil.
    Coupe-moi la tête doundou tchil.
    Nos souffles, nos souffles, bleu et or.
    Ahi! Ahi!
    Chaînes rouges, noires, mauves, amour, la  mort.”

    Répétition planétaire

    Ahi! Ahi!
    Mapa, nama, lila, tchil…
    Mapa nama lila, mika pampahika…

    Enfourche un cri noir,
    Écho noir du temps,
    Cri d’avant la terre à tout moment,
    Écho noir du temps,
    Escalier tournant.
    Tourbillon, étoile rouge, tourbillon
    Planète mange en tournant.

    Adieu

    Adieu toi, colombe verte,
    Ange attristé.
    Adieu toi, perle limpide,
    Soleil gardien.
    Toi, de nuit, de fruit, de ciel de jour,
    Aile d’amour.

    Adieu toi, lumiére neuve,
    Philtre à deux voix.
    Étoile enchaînée,
    Ombre partagée,
    Dans ma main mon fruit de ciel, de jour,
    Lointain d’amour.

    Adieu toi, mon ciel de terre,
    Adieu toi, désert qui pleure,
    Miroir sans souffle d’amour,
    De fleur, de nuit, de fruit, de ciel, de jour,
    Pour toujours.

    Syllabes

    Colombe, colombe verte,
    Le chiffre cinq à toi,
    La violette double doublera,
    Très loin, tout bas.

    O mon ciel tu fleuris, 
    Piroutcha mia!
    O déplions du ciel,
    Piroutcha mia!
    O fleurissons de l’eau, 
    Piroutcha mia!

    Kahi pipas, mahi pipas…
    Pia pia pia pia… doundou tchil…
    Tout bas.


    L'escalier redit, gestes du soleil

    Il ne parle plus, l’escalier sourit,
    Chaque marche vers le sud
    Du ciel, de l’eau, du temps, l’escalier du temps.
    Son oeil est désert, lumière en secret.
    Pierre claire et soleil clair.
    De l’eau, du temps, du ciel, l'escalier du ciel.

    Ma petite cendre tu es là, 
    tes tempes vertes, mauves, sur de l’eau.
    Comme la mort. L’oeil de l’eau.

    L’escalier redit, gestes du soleil,
    Couleur de silence neuf.
    De l’eau, du temps, du ciel, l’escalier du ciel.
    J’attends dans le vert étoilé d’amour.
    C’est si simple d’être mort.
    Du temps, du ciel, de l’eau, l’escalier de l’eau.

    Ma petite cendre tu es là, 
    tes tempes vertes, mauves, sur du  temps.
    Comme la mort. L’oeil du temps.

    Du ciel, de l’eau, du temps, 
    Ton oeil présent qui respire.
    De l’eau, du temps, du ciel, 
    Le coeur de l’horloge folle.
    La mort est là, ma colombe verte,
    La mort est là, ma perle limpide,
    La mort est là.
    Nous dormons loin du temps dans ton regard.
    Je suis mort.

    L’eau dépassera nos têtes, 

    Soleil gardien.
    Le feu mangera nos souffles,
    Philtre à deux voix.
    Nos regards d’un bout à l’autre
    Vus par la mort.
    Inventons l’amour du monde
    Pour nous chercher,
    pour nous pleurer,
    pour nous rêver, 
    pour nous trouver
    Du ciel, de l’eau, du temps, 
    ton coeur qui bat,
    mon fruit, ma part de ténèbres,
    tu es là, toi. 
    L’amour, la joie!


    Le silence est mort, embrasse le temps.
    Le soleil aux cris joyeux.
    Du temps, du ciel, de l’eau, l’escalier de l’eau.
    La gaieté fleurit dans les bras du ciel.
    Éventail en chant d’oiseau.
    Du ciel, de l’eau, du temps, l’escalier du temps.

    Ma petite cendre tu es là, 
    tes tempes vertes, mauves, sur du ciel,
         tes tempes sur du ciel.

    Comme la mort.
    L’oeil du ciel.

    Amour oiseau d’étoile

    Oiseau d’étoile,
    Ton oeil qui chante,
    Vers les étoiles,
    Ta tête à l’envers sous le ciel.

    Ton oeil d’étoile,
    Chaînes tombantes,
    Vers les étoiles,
    Plus court chemin de l’ombre au ciel.

    Tous les oiseaux des étoiles,
    Loin du tableau mes mains chantent,
    Étoile, silence augmenté du ciel.

    Mes mains, ton oeil, ton cou, le ciel.

    Katchikatchi les étoiles

    Katchikatchi les étoiles, faites-les sauter,
    Katchikatchi les étoiles, faites-les danser.
    Katchikatchi les atomes, faites-les sauter,
    Katchikatchi les atomes, faites-les danser.

    Les nébuleuses spirales, mains de mes cheveux.
    Les électrons, fourmis, flèches, le silence en deux. 
    Alpha du Centaure, Bételgeuse, Aldébaran,
    Dilatez, l’espace arcenciel tapageur  du temps,
    Rire ionisé fureur d’horloge au meurtre  absent, 
    Coupez ma tête, son chiffre roule dans le sang! 

    Tou, ahi! mané mani…
    O, Roule dans le sang… Ahi!

    Dans le noir 

    Dans le noir, colombe verte.
    Dans le noir, perle limpide.
    Dans le noir, mon fruit de ciel, de jour,
    Lointain d’amour.
    Mon amour, mon souffle!
    Colombe, colombe verte,
    Le chiffre cinq à toi,
    La violette double, doublera,
    Très loin, tout bas…
    La ville qui dormait… 

    Olivier Messiaen

    The village that slept, you

    The city that slept, you. 
    My hand on your heart by you. 
    In the dead of the night the bench, you. 
    The double violet, you. 
    The motionless eye, with fixed gaze, me.

    Hello there, you green dove


    Hello there you green dove, 
    Back from heaven. 
    Hello there, you limpid pearl, 
    Off to the water. 
    Fettered star,
    Shared shadow, 
    You, of flower, of fruit, of sky and of water, 
    Song of the birds.  

    Hello, 

    Of water.

    Mountains

    Purple-red, black on black. 
    The ancient, useless black ray. 
    Mountain, listen to the solar chaos of vertigo.
    The kneeling stone bears its black masters. 
    The fir-trees in their tight hoods hurry towards darkness.
    Abysm hurled everywhere towards the vertigo.
    Black on black.


    Doundou tchil

    Doundou tchil…
    Piroutcha here you are, o my own, mine, 
    the dance of the stars, doundou tchil. 
    Piroutcha here you are, o my own, mine,
    mirror of a familiar bird, doundou tchil. 
    Rainbow, my breath, my echo, 
    your gaze has returned, tchil, tchil.
    Piroutcha, here you are, o my own, mine,
    my featherweight fruit in the light, doundou tchil. 
    Toungou, mapa, nama, kahipipas… 
    Doundou tchil…


    Piroutcha’s Love

    (The Young Girl) 
    “Toungou, ahi, toungou, 
    toungou, lull, you, 
    my ash of lights, 
    lull your small girl in your green arms. 
    Piroutcha, your own little ash, for you.”

    (The Young Man) 
    “Your eye, all the heavens, doundou tchil. 
    Cut my head off, doundou tchil. 
    Our breaths, our breaths, blue and gold.
    Ahi! Ahi!
    Chains of red, black, mauve, love, death.”


    Planetary repetition

    Ahi! Ahi!
    Mapa, nama, lila, tchil… 
    Mapa nama lila, mika pampahika…

    Mount a black scream, 
    Black echo of time, 
    Scream before earth at any moment, 
    Black echo of time,
    Spiral staircase. 
    Whirlwind, red star, whirlwind, 
    Planet eating while it revolves.


    Farewell 

    Farewell to you, green dove, 
    Saddened angel. 
    Farewell to you, limpid pearl, 
    Guardian sun. 
    You of the night, the fruit, the sky, the day,
    Wing of love. 

    Farewell, you new light,
    Two-voiced love-potion. 
    Fettered star, 
    Shared shadow, 
    In my hand my fruit of the sky, of the day,
    Distant of love. 

    Farewell to you, my earthly heaven, 
    Farewell to you, weeping desert, 
    Mirror with no breath of love, 
    Of flower, of night, of fruit, of sky, of day,  
    Forever.


    Syllables

    Dove, green dove, 
    The figure five for you,
    The double-violet will double, 
    Very far away, in a low voice.

    O my heaven, you bloom, 
    Piroutcha mia! 
    O, let’s unfold a piece of sky,
    Piroutcha mia! 
    O let’s flower a bloom of water, 
    Piroutcha mia! 

    Kahi pipas, mahi pipas… 
    Pia pia pia pia… doundou tchil…
    In a low voice. 


    The Staircase Retold, Gestures  of the Sun

    It speaks no more, the staircase smiles, 
    Each steps towards the South. 
    Of sky, water, time – the staircase of time.
    Its eye is barren, light in secret. 
    Clear stone and clear sun. 
    Of water, time, sky – the staircase of the sky. 

    My little ash, there you are,
    your temples green and mauve, on the   water, 
    Like death. The eye of water. 

    The stairway retold, gestures of the sun,
    Color of new silence.
    Of water, time, sky – the staircase of the sky.
    I wait in the greenness, studded with love-stars.
    It is so simple to be dead.
    Of time, sky, water – the staircase of the water.


    My little ash, there you are,
    your temples green and mauve, on time.
    Like death. The eye of time.

    Of the sky, of water, of time,
    Your present eye that breathes.
    Of water, of time, of the sky,
    The heart of the mad clock.
    Death is there, my green dove,
    Death is there, my limpid pearl,
    Death is there.
    We are sleeping far from time, in your gaze.
    I am dead.

    The water will rise above our heads,

    Guardian sun.
    The fire will eat up our breaths,
    Two-voiced love potion.
    Our gazes from one end to the other
    Seen by death.
    Let’s invent the love of the world
    To look for each other,
    to weep for each other,
    to dream of each other,
    to find each other.
    Of the sky, of water, of time,
    your beating heart,
    my fruit, my share of darkness,
    you are there, you.

    Love, bliss!

    Silence is dead, embrace time.
    The sun with its merry cries.
    Of time, sky, water – the staircase of water.
    Gaiety blooms in the arms of the sky.
    Fan in the shape of birdsong.
    Of sky, water, time – the stairway of time.

    My little ash, there you are,
    your temples green, mauve, on the sky,

           your temples on the sky.
    Like death.
    The eye of the sky.


    Love–Star–Bird

    Star-bird, 
    Your eye that sings, 
    Towards the stars, 
    Your head upside down under the sky. 

    Your star-like eye, 
    Drooping chains, 
    Towards the stars, 
    Shortest way from the shadow to the sky.

    All the star-birds,
    Far from the picture my hands sing,
    Star, enlarged silence of the sky.

    My hands, your eye, your neck, the sky.


    Katchikatchi the stars

    Katchikatchi the stars, make them leap,
    Katchikatchi the stars, make them dance.
    Katchikatchi the atoms, make them jump,
    Katchikatchi the atoms, make them dance. 

    The spiral nebulas, hands of my hair. 
    The electrons, ants, arrows, the silence cleft in two. 
    Alpha Centauri, Betelgeuse, Aldebaran, 
    Dilate the space, flashy rainbow of time, 
    Ionized laughter fury of the clock absent of murder, 
    Cut off my head, this figure rolls off into the blood! 

    Tou, ahi! mané mani… 
    O, Rolls off into the blood… Ahi! 


    In the dark

    In the dark, green dove. 
    In the dark, limpid pearl. 
    In the dark, my fruit of the sky, of the day, 
    Far from love.
    My love, my breath! 
    Dove, green dove, 
    The figure five for you, 
    The double-violet will double, 
    Very far away, in a low voice…
    The city that slept… 

    Translator unknown

     

    Program notes

    The following was excerpted from David McCleery’s notes about Olivier Messiaen and his music, which I believe gives a perfect glimpse into the composer’s life, passions, and this exquisite song cycle.

    “Olivier Messiaen, 1908-1992, lived and worked at a time when Western composers were rejecting many of the styles that had evolved over the previous three centuries and inventing new ones. Although he himself was a musical innovator, he stood aside from his contemporaries, as his music was born of a deep religious faith and a wonder of nature in an age when secularism and detachment were much more in vogue. As a teacher he was a major influence on a new generation of ground-breaking composers, including Boulez and Stockhausen, but whereas these composers aimed to break totally free from tradition, Messiaen’s sound-world always has a shimmering beauty that seems to be the natural successor to the ravishing harmonies of early twentieth century French composers, such as Debussy, who had first awakened his own passion for music.

    When Messiaen wrote the song cycle Harawi in 1945, he had been studying Peruvian legend and folksong (the title of the cycle refers to a particular type of Peruvian traditional song, often dealing with the death of a lover). He had also recently written the incidental music for a production of a play by Lucien Fabre based on the Celtic legend of Tristan and Isolde, whose love could only be fulfilled in death. His wife Claire’s deteriorating mental health made this a particularly significant concept for Messiaen at this time. He gave Harawi the subtitle ‘Songs of Love and Death’, and this work, together with the epic Turangalîla-symphonie (1946–1948) and Cinq Rechants (1948), form what he called his ‘Tristan trilogy’.

    The heroine of Harawi is Piroutcha, though her lover is never named. The work is in two halves: the first seven songs depict the couple, their love, and their parting through death in the seventh song, Adieu. The remaining five songs depict a world full of surrealist imagery where the lovers have been reunited after death. The poems, which Messiaen wrote himself, are in French, interspersed with words in the Andean Quetchua language. Messiaen uses the Quetcha words not for their semantic meaning, but for their sound quality and onomatopoeic effect. 

    Messiaen’s texts are surrealistic poems in the sense that words, concepts and images combine and clash in an unusual and unexpected manner. Yet every text is a significant contribution to the unfolding of the tragic love story.The music of Messiaen is overpowering and seductive. It delights the senses and challenges the mind, calling forth emotions both peaceful and violent. It dissolves time into a floating state and creates a multidimensional space of subtle sounds, harmonic colours, and melodic movement. Messiaen’s love of birdsong, of nature and his fascination with colour are all evident in Harawi--Messiaen had been fascinated by birdsong since his teenage years and he once described birds as ‘probably the greatest musicians to inhabit our planet’. The music of Messiaen encompasses great contrasts, from luscious harmonies to harsh cacophonic effects. Simple melodies stand side by side with complex music in many layers. His music possesses delicate nuances and provocative clashes, and tones that rise to extreme heights and fall to bottomless depths.”  
                                                                                                

    –- David McCleery