Recital: Jonathon M. Fornoff '21 BM, Baritone
NEC's students meet one-on-one each week with a faculty artist to perfect their craft. As each one leaves NEC to make their mark in the performance world, they present a full, professional recital that is free and open to the public. It's your first look at the artists of tomorrow.
Jonathon M. Fornoff '21 BM studies Voice with Michael Meraw.
- Jonathon M. Fornoff '21 BM, baritone
- Miles Fellenberg, piano
- Michael Meraw, studio instructor
Maurice Ravel | Cinq mélodies populaire grecques
Chanson de la mariée
Là-bas, vers l'église
Quel galant m'est comparable?
Chanson des cueilleuses de lentisques
Tout gai!Texts
Chanson de la mariée
Réveille-toi, réveille-toi, perdrix mignonne,
ouvre au matin tes ailes.
Trois grains de beauté, mon cœur en est brûlé!
Vois le ruban d’or que je t’apporte,
pour le nouer autour de tes cheveux.
Si tu veux, ma belle, viens nous marier!
Dans nos deux familles, tous sont alliés!Song of the Bride
Wake up, wake up, dear partridge,
open your wings to the morning.
My heart is set aflame by three beauty marks!
See the ribbon, the golden ribbon that I bring you,
to wind around your hair.
If it pleases you my lovely, come let us marry!
In our two families, we are all allied!Là-bas, vers l'église
Là-bas, vers l’église,
vers l’église Ayio Sidéro,
l’église, ô Vierge sainte,
l’église Ayio Costanndino,
se sont réunis,
rassemblés en nombre infini,
du monde, ô Vierge sainte,
du monde tous les plus braves!Over there, by the church
Over there, by the church,
by the church of Saint Sidéros
the church, O Holy Virgin,
the church of Saint Constantine
have gathered
together in infinite numbers
of the world, O Holy Virgin,
the bravest people in the world!Quel galant m’est comparable
Quel galant m’est comparable,
d’entre ceux qu’on voit passer?
Dis, dame Vassiliki?
Vois, pendus à ma ceinture,
pistolets et sabre aigu …
Et c’est toi que j’aime!What gallant can compare with me?
What gallant can compare with me,
among those one sees passing by?
What say you, Lady Vasiliki?
See, hanging from my belt,
pistols and a sharp saber…
And it is you who I love!Chanson des cueilleuses de lentisques
Ô joie de mon âme,
joie de mon cœur,
trésor qui m’est si cher;
joie de l’âme et du cœur,
toi que j’aime ardemment,
tu es plus beau qu’un ange.
Ô lorsque tu parais,
ange si doux
devant nos yeux,
Comme un bel ange blond,
sous le clair soleil,
Hélas! tous nos pauvres cœurs soupirent!Song of the lentisk gatherers
O joy of my soul,
joy of my heart
treasure so dear to me;
joy of the soul and of the heart,
you whom I love so arduously
You are more beautiful than an angel.
Oh when you appear,
angel so sweet,
before our eyes,
like a beautiful, blonde angel,
beneath the shining sun,
Alas! All our weary hearts sigh!Tout gai!
Tout gai! gai, Ha, tout gai!
Belle jambe, tireli, qui danse;
belle jambe, la vaisselle danse,
Tra la la la la
Michel-Dimitri CalvocoressiAll merry!
All merry! Ha, all merry!
Beautiful legs that dance, ti-re-li;
beautiful legs, the dishes dance,
Tra la la la la…
Translation © Richard Stokes, from A French Song Companion (Oxford, 2000) provided courtesy of Oxford Lieder-www.oxfordlieder.co.ukGeorge Frideric Handel | "Dal fulgor di questa spada" from Giulio Cesare, HWV 17
Text
Dal fulgor di questa spada
Aria: Dal fulgor di questa spada
vuò che cada
umiliato un empio cor;
già non dée soffrir l'offese
che difese
il suo regno col valor.
Nicola Francesco Haym (1679–1730)
from Giulio Cesare in EgittoBy this falchion
Aria: By the brilliance of this sword
I want it to fall
on a humiliated impious heart;
yet he must not suffer the offense
he who has defended
his reign with valor.
Translation copyright © by Emily Ezust Reprinted with permission from the LiederNet Archive -- https://www.lieder.net/George Frideric Handel | "Si tra'i ceppi" from Berenice, HWV 38
Text
Si, tra’i ceppi
Aria: Sì, tra’i ceppi e le ritorte
La mia fe risplenderà.
Nò, nè pur la stessa morte
il mio foco estinguerà.
Anonymous from BereniceYes, even in chains
Aria: Yes, even in chains and bonds
my faith will be resplendent.
No, not even Death itself
will put out my fire.
Translation copyright © by Emily Ezust Reprinted with permission from the LiederNet Archive -- https://www.lieder.net/---intermission
Johannes Brahms | Botschaft, op. 47 no. 1
Text
Botschaft
Wehe, Lüftchen, lind und lieblich
um die Wange der Geliebten,
spiele zart in ihrer Locke,
eile nicht, hinwegzufliehn!
Tut sie dann vielleicht die Frage,
wie es um mich Armen stehe,
sprich: “Unendlich war sein Wehe,
höchst bedenklich seine Lage;
aber jetzo kann er hoffen
wieder herrlich aufzuleben,
denn du, Holde, denkst an ihn.”
Georg Friedrich DaumerA Message
Blow breeze, gently and sweetly
about the cheek of my beloved,
play softly with her tresses,
make no haste to fly away!
Then if she should chance to ask
how things are with wretched me,
say: “His sorrow’s been unending,
his condition most grave;
but now he can hope
to revel in life once more,
for you, fair one, think of him.”
Translation © Richard Stokes, author of The Book of Lieder, published by Faber, provided courtesy of Oxford Lieder, www.oxfordlieder.co.ukFranz Schubert | Am Strome, D. 539
Text
Am Strome
Ist mir's doch, als sei mein Leben
an den schönen Strom gebunden;
hab' ich Frohes nicht an seinem Ufer,
und Betrübtes hier empfunden?
Ja, du gleichest meiner Seele;
manchmal grün und glatt gestaltet,
und zu Zeiten herrschen Stürme
schäumend, unruhvoll, gefaltet.
Fliessest zu dem fernen Meere,
darfst allda nicht heimisch werden;
mich drängt's auch in mildre Lande,
finde nicht das Glück auf Erden.
Johann MayrhoferBy the river
I feel as if my life
were bound to the beautiful river.
Have I not known joy
and sorrow on its banks?
Yes, you resemble my soul;
sometimes green and tranquil,
and sometimes – when storms blow –
foaming, restless, furrowed!
You flow away to the distant sea,
where you fail to find your home.
I too yearn for kinder shores –
I can find no happiness on earth.
Translation © Richard Stokes, author of The Book of Lieder, published by Faber, provided courtesy of Oxford Lieder, www.oxfordlieder.co.ukJohannes Brahms | Sonntag, op. 47 no. 3
Text
Sonntag
So hab’ ich doch die ganze Woche
mein feines Liebchen nicht geseh’n,
ich sah es an einem Sonntag
wohl vor der Türe steh’n:
das tausendschöne Jungfräulein,
das tausendschöne Herzelein,
wollte Gott, wollte Gott, ich wär’ heute bei ihr!
So will mir doch die ganze Woche
das Lachen nicht vergeh’n,
ich sah es an einem Sonntag
wohl in die Kirche geh’n:
das tausendschöne Jungfräulein,
das tausendschöne Herzelein,
wollte Gott, wollte Gott, ich wär’ heute bei ihr!
Johann Ludwig UhlandSunday
For a whole week now
I haven’t seen my love;
I saw her on a Sunday,
standing at her door:
that thousandfold loveliest girl,
that thousandfold loveliest heart,
would to God I were with her today!
Yet I’ll still be able
to laugh all week;
I saw her on a Sunday,
as she went to church:
that thousandfold loveliest girl,
that thousandfold loveliest heart,
would to God I were with her today!
Translation © Richard Stokes, author of The Book of Lieder, published by Faber, provided courtesy of Oxford Lieder, www.oxfordlieder.co.ukFranz Schubert | Lied eines Schiffers an die Dioskuren, D. 360
Text
Lied eines Schiffers an die Dioskuren
Dioskuren, Zwillingssterne,
die ihr leuchtet meinem Nachen,
mich beruhigt auf dem Meere
eure Milde, euer Wachen.
Wer auch fest in sich begründet,
unverzagt dem Sturm begegnet,
fühlt sich doch in euren Strahlen
doppelt mutig und gesegnet.
Dieses Ruder, das ich schwinge,
Meeresfluten zu zerteilen,
mänge ich, so ich geborgen,
auf an eures Tempels Säulen.
Johann MayrhoferBoatman’s song to the Dioscuri
Dioscuri, twin stars,
shining on my boat,
your gentleness and vigilance
comfort me on the ocean.
However firmly a man believes in himself,
however fearlessly he meets the storm,
he feels doubly valiant and blessed
in your light.
This oar which I ply
to cleave the ocean’s waves,
I shall hang, once I have landed safely,
on the pillars of your temple.
Translation © by Richard Wingmore, author of Schubert: The Complete Song Texts, published by Schirmer Books, provided courtesy of Oxford Lieder (www.oxfordlieder.co.uk)Johannes Brahms | Feldeinsamkeit, op. 86 no. 2
Text
Feldeinsamkeit
Ich ruhe still im hohen grünen Gras
und sende lange meinen Blick nach oben,
von Grillen rings umschwirrt ohn’ Unterlaß,
von Himmelsbläue wundersam umwoben.
Die schönen weißen Wolken ziehn dahin
durchs tiefe Blau, wie schöne stille Träume;
mir ist, als ob ich längst gestorben bin,
und ziehe selig mit durch ew’ge Räume.
Hermann AllmersAlone in fields
I rest at peace in tall green grass
and gaze steadily aloft,
surrounded by unceasing crickets,
wondrously interwoven with blue sky.
The lovely white clouds go drifting by
through the deep blue, like lovely silent dreams;
I feel as if I have long been dead,
drifting happily with them through eternal space.
Translation © Richard Stokes, author of The Book of Lieder, published by Faber, provided courtesy of Oxford Lieder, www.oxfordlieder.co.ukGerald Finzi | Let us garlands bring
Come away, come away, death
Who is Silvia?
Fear no more the heat o' the sun
O mistress mine
It was a lover and his lassTexts
Come away, come away, death
Come away, come away, death,
And in sad cypress let me be laid;
Fly away, fly away, breath;
I am slain by a fair cruel maid.
My shroud of white, stuck all with yew,
O prepare it!
My part of death, no one so true
Did share it.
Not a flower, not a flower sweet,
On my black coffin let there be strown;
Not a friend, not a friend greet
My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown:
A thousand, thousand sighs to save,
Lay me, O where
Sad true lover never find my grave,
To weep there!
William Shakespeare, from Twelfth Night, Act II, Scene I
Who is Silvia?
Who is Silvia? what is she,
That all our swains commend her?
Holy, fair and wise is she;
The heavens such grace did lend her,
That she might admirèd be.
Is she kind as she is fair?
For beauty lives with kindness.
Love doth to her eyes repair,
To help him of his blindness,
And, being helped, inhabits there.
Then to Silvia, let us sing,
That Silvia is excelling;
She excels each mortal thing
Upon the dull earth dwelling;
To her let us garlands bring.
William Shakespeare, from The Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act IV, Scene II
Fear no more the heat o’ the sun
Fear no more the heat o’ the sun,
Nor the furious winter’s rages;
Thou thy worldly task hast done,
Home art gone, and ta’en thy wages:
Golden lads and girls all must,
As chimney-sweepers, come to dust.
Fear no more the frown o’ the great;
Thou art past the tyrant’s stroke;
Care no more to clothe and eat;
To thee the reed is as the oak:
The scepter, learning, physic, must
All follow this, and come to dust.
Fear no more the lightning flash,
Nor the all-dreaded thunder stone;
Fear not slander, censure rash;
Thou hast finished joy and moan:
All lovers young, all lovers must
Consign to thee, and come to dust.
No exorciser harm thee!
Nor no witchcraft charm thee!
Ghost unlaid forbear thee!
Nothing ill come near thee!
Quiet consummation have;
And renownèd be thy grave!
William Shakespeare, from Cymbeline, Act IV, Scene II
O mistress mine
O mistress mine, where are you roaming?
O stay and hear; your true love’s coming,
That can sing both high and low;
Trip no further, pretty sweeting;
Journeys end in lovers’ meeting,
Every wise man’s son doth know.
What is love? ’tis not hereafter;
Present mirth hath present laughter;
What’s to come is still unsure:
In delay there lies no plenty;
Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty;
Youth’s a stuff will not endure.
William Shakespeare, from Twelfth Night, Act II, Scene III
It was a lover and his lass
It was a lover and his lass,
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,
That o’er the green cornfield did pass
In spring time, the only pretty ring time,
When birds do sing, hey ding a ding a ding;
Sweet lovers love the spring.
Between the acres of the rye,
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,
These pretty country folks would lie
In spring time, the only pretty ring time,
When birds do sing, hey ding a ding a ding;
Sweet lovers love the spring.
This carol they began that hour,
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,
How that life was but a flower
In spring time, the only pretty ring time,
When birds do sing, hey ding a ding a ding;
Sweet lovers love the spring.
And therefore take the present time,
With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino,
For love is crownèd with the prime
In spring time, the only pretty ring time,
When birds do sing, hey ding a ding a ding;
Sweet lovers love the spring.
William Shakespeare, from As You Like It, Act V, Scene III
Thank you to Miles Fellenberg
for preparing and performing this recital with meThank you to Michael Meraw
for your constant guidance and wisdom that has helped make me the artist I am todayThank you to my family and friends
for supporting me throughout my years at NECSpecial thanks to my fiancée, Jessica Reed
for your endless encouragement and love through everything we do in this life.