Recital: Yuntong Han '21 BM, Tenor

NEC: Burnes Hall | Directions

255 St. Botolph St.
Boston, MA
United States

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.

Yuntong Han '21 BM studies Voice with MaryAnn McCormick.


Watch Live Stream from Burnes Hall

Artists
  • Yuntong Han '21 BM, tenor
  • Brett Hodgdon, piano
  • MaryAnn McCormick, studio instructor
  1. W. A. Mozart | Per pietà, non ricercate, K/ 420

    Text

    Per pietà, non ricercate, K.420

    Per pietà, non ricercate

    La cagion del mio tormento,
    Sì crudele in me lo sento,
    Che neppur lo so spiegar!
    Vo pensando… ma poi come?...Per uscir...
    ma che mi giova di far questa o quella prova,
    Se non trovo in che sperar?

    Ah, tra l'ire e tra gli sdegni
    Della mia funesta sorte,
    Chiamo solo, oh Dio, la morte,
    Che mi venga a consolar!

    Anonymous

    For pity’s sake, do not seek

    For pity’s sake, do not seek

    The cause of my torment,
    I feel it so cruelly within me,
    That I do not even know how to explain it!
    I think about…but then, how?...to leave…
    But of what use is it to me to make this or that attempt,
    If I find nothing in which to hope?

    Ah, between the angers and between the indignations
    Of my woeful fate,
    I only call, oh God, for death,
    That it may come to console me!

    Literal translation and IPA transcription © 2010 by Bard Suverkrop—IPA Source, LLC

  2. Ludwig van Beethoven | An die ferne Geliebte, op. 98

    Auf dem Hügel sitz ich spähend
    Wo die Berge so blau
    Leichte Segler in den Höhen
    Diese Wolken in den Höhen
    Es kehret der Maien, es blühet die Au
    Nimm sie hin denn, diese Lieder

    Texts

    Auf dem Hügel sitz ich spähend

    Auf dem Hügel sitz ich spähend

    In das blaue Nebelland,
    Nach den fernen Triften sehend,
    Wo ich dich, Geliebte, fand.
    Weit bin ich von dir geschieden,
    Trennend liegen Berg und Tal
    Zwischen uns und unserm Frieden,
    Unserm Glück und unsrer Qual.
    Ach, den Blick kannst du nicht sehen,
    Der zu dir so glühend eilt,
    Und die Seufzer, sie verwehen
    In dem Raume, der uns teilt.
    Will denn nichts mehr zu dir dringen,
    Nichts der Liebe Bote sein?
    Singen will ich, Lieder singen,
    Die dir klagen meine Pein!
    Denn vor Liebesklang entweichet
    Jeder Raum und jede Zeit,
    Und ein liebend Herz erreichet
    Was ein liebend Herz geweiht!

    I sit on the hill, gazing

    I sit on the hill, gazing

    Into the misty blue countryside,
    Towards the distant meadows
    Where, my love, I first found you.
    Now I’m far away from you,
    Mountain and valley intervene
    Between us and our peace,
    Our happiness and our pain.
    Ah, you cannot see the fiery gaze
    That wings its way towards you,
    And my sighs are lost
    In the space that comes between us.
    Will nothing ever reach you again?
    Will nothing be love’s messenger?

    I shall sing, sing songs
    That speak to you of my distress!
    For sounds of singing put to flight
    All space and all time;
    And a loving heart is reached
    By what a loving heart has hallowed!

    Wo die Berge so blau

    Wo die Berge so blau

    Aus dem nebligen Grau
    Schauen herein,
    Wo die Sonne verglüht,
    Wo die Wolke umzieht,
    Möchte ich sein!
    Dort im ruhigen Tal
    Schweigen Schmerzen und Qual.
    Wo im Gestein
    Still die Primel dort sinnt,
    Weht so leise der Wind,
    Möchte ich sein!
    Hin zum sinnigen Wald
    Drängt mich Liebesgewalt,
    Innere Pein.
    Ach, mich zög’s nicht von hier,
    Könnt ich, Traute, bei dir
    Ewiglich sein!

    Where the blue mountains

    Where the blue mountains

    From the misty grey
    Look out towards me,
    Where the sun’s glow fades,
    Where the clouds scud by –
    There would I be!
    There, in the peaceful valley,
    Pain and torment cease.
    Where among the rocks
    The primrose meditates in silence,
    And the wind blows so softly –
    There would I be!
    I am driven to the musing wood
    By the power of love,
    Inner pain.
    Ah, nothing could tempt me from here,
    If I were able, my love,
    To be with you eternally!

    Leichte Segler in den Höhen

    Leichte Segler in den Höhen,

    Und du, Bächlein klein und schmal,
    Könnt mein Liebchen ihr erspähen,
    Grüßt sie mir viel tausendmal.
    Seht ihr, Wolken, sie dann gehen
    Sinnend in dem stillen Tal,
    Laßt mein Bild vor ihr entstehen
    In dem luft’gen Himmelssaal.
    Wird sie an den Büschen stehen,
    Die nun herbstlich falb und kahl.
    Klagt ihr, wie mir ist geschehen,
    Klagt ihr, Vöglein, meine Qual.
    Stille Weste, bringt im Wehen
    Hin zu meiner Herzenswahl
    Meine Seufzer, die vergehen
    Wie der Sonne letzter Strahl.
    Flüstr’ ihr zu mein Liebesflehen,
    Laß sie, Bächlein klein und schmal,
    Treu in deinen Wogen sehen
    Meine Tränen ohne Zahl!

    Light clouds sailing on high

    Light clouds sailing on high,

    And you, narrow little brook,
    If you catch sight of my love,
    Greet her a thousand times.
    If, clouds, you see her walking
    Thoughtful in the silent valley,
    Let my image loom before her
    In the airy vaults of heaven.
    If she be standing by the bushes
    Autumn has turned fallow and bare,
    Pour out to her my fate,
    Pour out, you birds, my torment.
    Soft west winds, waft my sighs
    To her my heart has chosen –
    Sighs that fade away
    Like the sun’s last ray.
    Whisper to her my entreaties,
    Let her, narrow little brook,
    Truly see in your ripples
    My never-ending tears!

    Diese Wolken in den Höhen

    Diese Wolken in den Höhen,

    Dieser Vöglein muntrer Zug,
    Werden dich, o Huldin, sehen.
    Nehmt mich mit im leichten Flug!
    Diese Weste werden spielen
    Scherzend dir um Wang’ und Brust,
    In den seidnen Locken wühlen. –
    Teilt ich mit euch diese Lust!
    Hin zu dir von jenen Hügeln
    Emsig dieses Bächlein eilt.
    Wird ihr Bild sich in dir spiegeln,
    Fließ zurück dann unverweilt!

    These clouds on high

    These clouds on high,

    This cheerful flight of birds
    Will see you, O gracious one.
    Take me lightly winging too!
    These west winds will playfully
    Blow about your cheeks and breast,
    Will ruffle your silken tresses. –
    Would I might share that joy!
    This brooklet hastens eagerly
    To you from those hills.
    If she’s reflected in you,
    Flows directly back to me!

    Es kehret der Maien, es blühet die Au

    Es kehret der Maien,

    Es blühet die Au,
    Die Lüfte, sie wehen
    So milde, so lau,
    Geschwätzig die Bäche nun rinnen.
    Die Schwalbe, die kehret
    Zum wirtlichen Dach,
    Sie baut sich so emsig
    Ihr bräutlich Gemach,
    Die Liebe soll wohnen da drinnen.
    Sie bringt sich geschäftig
    Von kreuz und von Quer
    Manch weicheres Stück
    Zu dem Brautbett hieher,
    Manch wärmendes Stück für die Kleinen.
    Nun wohnen die Gatten
    Beisammen so treu,
    Was Winter geschieden,
    Verband nun der Mai,
    Was liebet, das weiß er zu einen.
    Es kehret der Maien,
    Es blühet die Au.

    Die Lüfte, sie wehen
    So milde, so lau;
    Nur ich kann nicht ziehen von hinnen.
    Wenn alles, was liebet,
    Der Frühling vereint,
    Nur unserer Liebe
    Kein Frühling erscheint,
    Und Tränen sind all ihr Gewinnen.

    May returns, the meadow blooms.

    May returns,

    The meadow blooms.
    The breezes blow
    So gentle, so mild,
    The babbling brooks flow again,
    The swallow returns
    To its rooftop home,
    And eagerly builds
    Her bridal chamber,
    Where love shall dwell.
    She busily brings
    From every direction
    Many soft scraps
    For the bridal bed,
    Many warm scraps for her young.
    Now the pair lives
    Faithfully together,
    What winter parted,
    May has joined,
    For May can unite all who love.
    May returns,
    The meadow blooms.
    The breezes blow
    So gentle, so mild;
    I alone cannot move on.
    When spring unites
    All lovers,
    Our love alone
    Knows no spring,

    And tears are its only gain.

    Nimm sie hin denn, diese Lieder

    Nimm sie hin denn, diese Lieder,

    Die ich dir, Geliebte, sang,
    Singe sie dann abends wieder
    Zu der Laute süßem Klang!
    Wenn das Dämmrungsrot dann ziehet
    Nach dem stillen blauen See,
    Und sein letzter Strahl verglühet
    Hinter jener Bergeshöh;
    Und du singst, was ich gesungen,
    Was mir aus der vollen Brust
    Ohne Kunstgepräng erklungen,
    Nur der Sehnsucht sich bewußt:
    Dann vor diesen Liedern weichet
    Was geschieden uns so weit,
    Und ein liebend Herz erreichet
    Was ein liebend Herz geweiht!

    Alois Jeitteles

    Accept, then, these songs

    Accept, then, these songs

    I sang for you, beloved;
    Sing them again at evening
    To the lute’s sweet sound!
    As the red light of evening draws
    Towards the calm blue lake,
    And its last rays fade
    Behind those mountain heights;
    And you sing what I sang
    From a full heart
    With no display of art,
    Aware only of longing:
    Then, at these songs,
    The distance that parted us shall recede,

    And a loving heart be reached
    By what a loving heart has hallowed!

    Translations by Richard Stokes, author of The Book of Lieder (Faber, 2005) provided courtesy of Oxford Lieder- www.oxfordlieder.co.uk

  3. ---intermission

  4. Gabriel Fauré | from La bonne chanson, op 61

    I. Une sainte en son auréole
    II. Puisque l'aube grandit
    III. La lune blanche
    IX. L'hiver a cessé

    Texts

    Une sainte en son aureole

    Une Sainte en son auréole,
    Une Châtelaine en sa tour,
    Tout ce que contient la parole
    Humaine de grâce et d'amour;

    La note d'or que fait entendre
    Un cor dans le lointain des bois,
    Mariée à la fierté tendre
    Des nobles Dames d'autrefois;

    Avec cela le charme insigne
    D'un frais sourire triomphant
    Éclos dans des candeurs de cygne
    Et des rougeurs de femme-enfant;

    Des aspects nacrés, blancs et roses,
    Un doux accord patricien:
    Je vois, j'entends toutes ces choses
    Dans son nom Carlovingien.


    Paul Verlaine

    A Saint in her halo

    A Saint in her halo,

    A Châtelaine in her tower,
    All that human words contain
    Of grace and love;

    The golden note of a horn
    In forests far away,
    Blended with the tender pride
    Of noble Ladies of long ago;

    And then - the rare charm
    Of fresh, triumphant smile,
    Flowering in swan-like innocence
    And the blushes of a child-bride;

    A nacreous sheen of white and pink,
    A sweet patrician harmony -
    All these things I see and hear
    In her Carolingian name.

    Puisque l'aube grandit

    Puisque l'aube grandit, puisque voici l'aurore,

    Puisque, après m'avoir fui longtemps, l'espoir veut bien
    Revoler devers moi qui l'appelle et l'implore,
    Puisque tout ce bonheur veut bien être le mien,

    Je veux, guidé par vous, beaux yeux aux flammes douces,
    Par toi conduit, ô main où tremblera ma main,
    Marcher droit, que ce soit par des sentiers de mousses
    Ou que rocs et cailloux encombrent le chemin;

    Et comme, pour bercer les lenteurs de la route,
    Je chanterai des airs ingénus, je me dis
    Qu'elle m'écoutera sans déplaisir sans doute;
    Et vraiment je ne veux pas d'autre Paradis.


    Paul Verlaine

    Since day is breaking

    Since day is breaking, since dawn is here,

    Since hope, having long eluded me, would now
    Return to me and my imploring,
    Since all this happiness will truly be mine.

    I shall, guided by your fair eyes' gentle glow,
    Led by your hand in which I place my trembling hand,
    Walk straight ahead, on mossy paths
    Or boulder-strewn and stony tracks.

    And while, to ease the journey's languid pace,
    I shall sing some simple airs, I tell myself
    That she will surely hear me without displeasure;
    And truly I crave no other paradise.

    La lune blanche

    La lune blanche

    Luit dans les bois;
    De chaque branche
    Part une voix
    Sous la ramée...

    Ô bien aimée.

    L'étang reflète,
    Profond miroir,
    La silhouette
    Du saule noir
    Où le vent pleure...

    Rêvons, c'est l'heure.

    Un vaste et tendre
    Apaisement
    Semble descendre
    Du firmament
    Que l'astre irise...

    C'est l'heure exquise.

    Hermann Allmers

    The white moon

    The white moon

    Gleams in the woods;
    From every branch
    There comes a voice
    Beneath the boughs...

    O my beloved.

    The pool reflects,
    Deep mirror,
    The silhouette
    Of the black willow
    Where the wind is weeping...

    Let us dream, it is the hour.

    A vast and tender
    Consolation

    Seems to fall
    From the sky
    The moon illumines...

    Exquisite hour.

    L'hiver a cessé

    L'hiver a cessé: la lumière est tiède

    Et danse, du sol au firmament clair.
    Il faut que le coeur le plus triste cède
    À l'immense joie éparse dans l'air.

    J'ai depuis un an le printemps dans l'âme
    Et le vert retour du doux floréal,
    Ainsi qu'une flamme entoure une flamme,
    Met de l'idéal sur mon idéal.

    Le ciel bleu prolonge, exhausse et couronne
    L'immuable azur où rit mon amour
    La saison est belle et ma part est bonne
    Et tous mes espoirs ont enfin leur tour.

    Que vienne l'été! que viennent encore
    L'automne et l'hiver! Et chaque saison
    Me sera charmante, ô Toi que décore
    Cette fantaisie et cette raison!

    Paul Verlaine

    Winter is over

    Winter is over, the light is soft

    And dances up from the earth to the clear sky.
    The saddest heart must surrender
    To the great joy that fills the air.

    For a year I have had spring in my soul,
    And the green return of sweet May,
    Like flame encircling flame,
    Adds an ideal to my ideal.

    The blue sky prolongs, heightens, and crowns
    the steadfast azure where my love smiles.
    The season is fair and my lot is happy

    And all my hopes are at last fulfilled.

    Let summer come! Let autumn
    And winter come too! Each season
    Will delight me, O you graced with
    Imagination and good sense! 


    Translations by Richard Stokes, from A French Song Companion (Oxford, 2000) provided courtesy of Oxford Lieder- www.oxfordlieder.co.uk

  5. Ben Moore | Songs

    The cloak, the boat, and the shoes
    The lake isle of Innisfree
    This heart that flutters

    Texts

    The cloak, the boat, and the shoes

    ‘What do you make so fair and bright?’

    ‘I make the cloak of Sorrow:
    O lovely to see in all men’s sight
    Shall be the cloak of sorrow,
    in all men’s sight.’


    ‘What do you build with sails for flight?’
    ‘I build a boat for Sorrow:
    O swift on the seas all day and night
    Sail-eth the rover sorrow
    All day and night.’

    ‘What do you weave with wool so white?’
    ‘I weave the shoes of Sorrow:
    Soundless shall be the footfall light
    In all men’s ears of sorrow,
    Sudden and light.’

    William Butler Yeats

     

    The lake isle of Innisfree

    I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,

    And a small cabin build there,
    Of clay and wattles made;
    Nine bean-rows will I have there,
    A hive for the honey-bee,
    And live alone in the bee-loud glade

    And I shall have some peace there,
    For peace comes dropping slow,

    Dropping from the veils of the morning
    To where the cricket sings;
    There midnight’s all a glimmer,
    And noon a purple glow,
    And evening full of the linnet’s wings.

    I will arise and go now,
    For always night and day,
    I hear lake water lapping
    With low sounds by the shore;
    While I stand on the roadway,
    Or on the pavements grey,
    I hear it in the deep heart’s core.

    William Butler Yeats



    This heart that flutters

    This heart that flutters near my heart
    My hope and all my riches is,
    Unhappy when we draw apart
    And happy between kiss and kiss;
    My hope and all my riches, yes!
    And all my happiness.

    For there, as in some mossy nest
    The wrens will divers treasures keep,
    I laid those treasures I possessed
    Ere that mine eyes had learned to weep
    Shall we not be as wise as they
    Though love live but a day?

    James Joyce

     

  6. Yongxi Huang | 怀念曲 (Song of Yearning)

    Text

    怀念曲

    把印着泪痕的笺,

    交给那旅行的水。
    何时流到你屋边,
    让它弹动你心弦。

    我曾问南归的燕,
    可带来你的消息?
    它为我命运呜咽,
    希望似梦心无依!

    毛羽

    Song of yearning

    I entrust the letter with my tears

    To the travelling water.
    When will it flow by your house
    And blow your heartstrings.

    I once asked a swallow back from the south
    Is there any news about you?
    It wept for my fate
    Hope is mysterious, heart without any support!

    Translated by Yuntong Han

  7. It is hard to believe that I have almost finished my four-year undergraduate study at NEC.
    All my supportive teachers, friends and family members have contributed to my accomplishments.

    I want to send my sincere appreciation to my beloved voice teacher,
     Ms. MaryAnn McCormick.
    For me, she is not only an instructor, but also a mentor.
    Her high standards toward music helped me to become a better musician,
    and her caring and kindness always comforted my loneliness and homesickness.

    I do cherish everything that happened to me and everybody I met at NEC.

    Thanks for coming and hope you will enjoy the recital!