Song and Verse: Brahms, Britten, Burleigh, Falla, & Ravel
Inaugurated in the fall of 2020, the Song and Verse recital series provides a platform for undergraduate singers at NEC to experience the unique and invigorating process of song preparation and performance—creating interpretations, building performance skills, and forging intellectual and musical connections with a wide literature. Working closely with Vocal Arts faculty members, students will engage with rich traditions of song composition from around the globe. Committed to diversity, our programs will feature both established and emerging composers and poets from across many cultures and traditions. This series creates new opportunities for students to participate with the singular type of storytelling unique to song.
WATCH CONCERT STREAM:
- Emma Strange, soprano
- Madeleine Wiegers, soprano
- Anneke Stern, soprano
- Jack Keller, tenor
- Jonathan Lawlor, baritone
Johannes Brahms | from Deutsche Volkslieder, WoO 33
Du mein einzig Licht
Du mein einzig Licht,
Die Lilj und Ros hat nicht,
Was an Farb und Schein
Dir möcht ähnlich sein,
Nur daß dein stolzer Mut
Der Schönheit unrecht thut.
Meine Heimat du,
Von welcher Lust und Ruh
Ist der Himmel gar
Wie die Erde bar.
Nur daß dein strenges Wort
Mich weht vom süßen Port.
Heinrich Albert
Da unten im Tale
Da unten im Tale
Läuft's Wasser so trüb,
Und i kann dir's net sagen,
I hab' di so lieb.
Sprichst allweil von Liebe,
Sprichst allweil von Treu',
Und a bissele Falschheit
Is auch wohl dabei.
Und wenn i dir's zehnmal sag,
Daß i di lieb,
Und du willst nit verstehn,
Muß i halt weitergehn.
Für die Zeit, wo du gliebt mi hast,
Dank i dir schön,
Und i wünsch, daß dir's anderswo
Besser mag gehn.
Based on a text in Bavarian (Boarisch) from Volkslieder (Folksongs) , "Trennung", Swabian.
In stiller Nacht, zur ersten Wacht
In stiller Nacht, zur ersten Wacht,
ein Stimm' begunnt zu klagen,
der nächt'ge Wind hat süß und lind
zu mir den Klang getragen.
Von herbem Leid und Traurigkeit
ist mir das Herz zerflossen,
die Blümelein, mit Tränen rein
hab' ich sie all' begossen.
Der schöne Mon will untergon,
für Leid nicht mehr mag scheinen,
die Sterne lan ihr Glitzen stahn,
mit mir sie wollen weinen.
Kein Vogelsang noch Freudenklang
man höret in den Lüften,
die wilden Tier' trauern auch mit mir
in Steinen und in Klüften.Friedrich Spee von Langenfeld
You my only light
You my only light,
lilies and roses do not have
any color or brightness
to compare with you;
only that your proud attitude
does injustice to your beauty.
My homeland you are,
of a joy and peace
that even Heaven,
like the earth, lacks;
only that your stern words
keep me from my sweet goal.
Translation copyright © 2010 by John Glenn Paton, reprinted with permission from the LiederNet Archive.
Down in the valley there
Down in the valley there
the water flows so sadly,
and I can't tell you
that I love you so.
You always speak of love,
you always speak of fidelity,
but a bit of falsehood
is always there too.
And if I tell you ten times,
that I love and like you,
and you do not want to understand,
then I will have to move on.
For the time that you have loved me,
I thank you kindly,
and I wish that somewhere else
things may go better for you.
Translation copyright © by Emily Ezust, from the LiederNet Archive -- https://www.lieder.net/
In the quiet night, at the first watch
In the quiet night, at the first watch,
a voice began to lament;
sweetly and gently, the night wind
carried to me its sound.
And from such bitter sorrow and grief
my heart has melted.
The little flowers - with my pure tears
I have watered them all.
The beautiful moon wishes to set
out of pain, and never shine again;
the stars will let fade their gleam
for they wish to weep with me.
Neither bird-song nor sound of joy
can one hear in the air;
the wild animals grieve with me as well,
upon the rocks and in the ravines.Translation copyright © by Emily Ezust, from the LiederNet Archive -- https://www.lieder.net/
Artists- Emma Stange, soprano
Maurice Ravel | from Cinq mélodies populaires grecques
Le réveil 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!
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!
Chanson des cueilleuses de lentisques
Ô joie de mon âme,
Joie de mon coeur,
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 !
Based on a text in Greek (Ελληνικά) from a Greek folk song. Translated from Greek to French by Michel Dimitri Calvocoressi.The song to the bride
Awake, awake, my darling partridge,
Open to the morning your wings.
Three beauty marks;
my heart is on fire!
See the ribbon of gold that I bring
To tie round your hair.
If you want, my beauty, we shall marry!
In our two families, everyone is related!
What gallant compares with me?
What gallant compares with me,
Among those one sees passing by?
Tell me, lady Vassiliki!
See, hanging on my belt,
My pistols and my curved sword.
And it is you whom I love!
Song of the lentisk gatherers
O joy of my soul,
joy of my heart,
treasure which is so dear to me,
joy of my soul and heart,
you whom I love ardently,
you are more handsome than an angel.
O when you appear,
angel so sweet,
Before our eyes,
Like a fine, blond angel,
under the bright sun,
Alas! all of our poor hearts sigh!
Translation copyright © by Emily Ezust, from the LiederNet Archive -- https://www.lieder.net/Artists- Jack Keller, tenor
Benjamin Britten | Little Sir William; How sweet the answer; The ash grove
Little Sir William
Easter day was a holidayOf all the days in the year,
And all the little schoolfellows
Went out to play
But Sir William was not there.
Mamma went to the School Wife House
And knocked at the ring,
Saying, "Little Sir William
if you are there,
Pray let your mother in."
The School Wife open'd the door
And said "He is not here today.
He is with the little schoolfellows
Out on the green
Playing some pretty play."
Mamma went to the Boyne water
That is so wide and deep, saying,
Little Sir William if you are there,
Oh pity your mother's weep."
"How can I pity your weep, mother
And I so long in pain?
For the little penknife
Sticks close to my heart
And the School Wife hath me slain.
Go home, go home my mother dear,
And prepare my winding sheet,
For tomorrow morning before eight o'clock,
You with my body shall meet.
And lay my prayer book at my head,
And my grammar at my feet,
That all the little schoolfellows
as they pass by
May read them for my sake."Traditional folk song from Somerset (UK)
How sweet the answer
How sweet the answer Echo makes
To Music at night,
When, rous'd by lute or horn, she wakes,
And far away, o'er lawns and lakes,
Goes answering light!
Yet Love hath echoes truer far,
And far more sweet,
Than e'er beneath the moonlight's star,
Of horn, or lute, or soft guitar,
The songs repeat.
'Tis when the sigh, in youth sincere,
And only then, --
The sigh that's breath'd for one to hear,
Is by that one, that only dear,
Breath'd back again.
Thomas Moore (1779 - 1852)
The ash grove
Down yonder green valley where streamlets meander,
When twilight is fading, I pensively rove,
Or at the bright noontide in solitude wander
Amid the dark shades of the lonely ash grove.
'Twas there while the blackbird was joyfully singing,
I first met my dear one, the joy of my heart;
Around us for gladness the bluebells were ringing,
Ah! then little thought I how soon we should part.
Still glows the bright sunshine o'er valley and mountain,
Still warbles the blackbird his note from the tree,
Still trembles the moonbeam on streamlet and fountain;
But what are the beauties of nature to me?
With sorrow, deep sorrow, my bosom is laden,
All day I go mourning in search of my love.
Ye echoes, O tell me, where is the sweet maiden?
She sleeps 'neath the green turf down by the ash grove.Traditional Welsh folk song
Artists- Madeleine Wiegers, soprano
H. T. Burleigh | Couldn't hear nobody pray; Weepin' Mary; Don't you weep when I'm gone
Couldn’t hear nobody pray
An’ I couldn’t hear nobody pray,
An’ I couldn’t hear nobody pray,
O ‘way down yonder by myself
An’ I couldn’t hear nobody pray.
In de valley! I couldn’t hear nobody pray.
On my knees! I couldn’t hear nobody pray.
With my burden! I couldn’t hear nobody pray.
An’ my Saviour! I couldn’t hear nobody pray.
O Lord! I couldn’t hear nobody pray.
O Lord, couldn’t hear nobody pray,
O ‘way down yonder by myself
I couldn’t hear nobody pray.
Hallelujah! couldn’t hear nobody pray.
Troubles over! couldn’t hear nobody pray.
In de kingdom! couldn’t hear nobody pray.
With my Jesus! couldn’t hear nobody pray.
O Lord! couldn’t hear nobody pray.
O Lord! couldn’t hear nobody pray,
O ‘way down yonder by myself
I couldn’t hear nobody pray.
Weepin’ Mary
If there’s anybody here like weepin’ Mary,
Call upon your Jesus, an’ He’ll draw nigh.
O, glory, glory hallelujah!
Glory be to my God, who rules on high!
Don’t you weep when I’m gone
When I’m gone, gone, when I’m gone, gone, gone,
O mother; don’t you weep when I am gone.
For I’m goin’ to Heav’n above,going to the God of Love,
O mother, don’t you weep when I am gone.
O, mother meet me there, mother, meet me in de air,
O mother don’t you weep when I am gone.
when I’m gone, gone, when I’m gone, gone, gone
O mother, don’t you weep when I am gone.Traditional
Artists- Jonathan Lawlor, baritone
Manuel de Falla | from Siete canciones populares españolas
El paño moruno
Al paño fino, en la tienda,
una mancha le cayó;
Por menos precio se vende,
Porque perdió su valor.
¡Ay!The moorish cloth
On the fine cloth in the store
a stain has fallen;
It sells at a lesser price,
because it has lost its value.
Alas!Asturiana
Por ver si me consolaba,
Arrime a un pino verde,
Por ver si me consolaba.
Por verme llorar, lloraba.
Y el pino como era verde,
Por verme llorar, lloraba.Asturian
To see whether it would console me,
I drew near a green pine,
To see whether it would console me.
Seeing me weep, it wept;
And the pine, being green,
seeing me weep, wept.Nana
Duérmete, niño, duerme,
Duerme, mi alma,
Duérmete, lucerito
De la mañana.
Nanita, nana,
Nanita, nana.
Duérmete, lucerito
De la mañana.Nana
Go to sleep, Child, sleep,
Sleep, my soul,
Go to sleep, little star
Of the morning.
Lulla-lullaby,
Lulla-lullaby,
Sleep, little star
of the morningPolo
¡Ay!
Guardo una, ¡Ay!
Guardo una, ¡Ay!
¡Guardo una pena en mi pecho,
¡Guardo una pena en mi pecho,
¡Ay!
Que a nadie se la diré!
Malhaya el amor, malhaya,
Malhaya el amor, malhaya,
¡Ay!
¡Y quien me lo dió a entender!
¡Ay!
Spanish folk songsPolo
Ay!
I keep a... (Ay!)
I keep a... (Ay!)
I keep a sorrow in my breast,
I keep a sorrow in my breast.
Ay!
that to no one will I tell.
Wretched be love, wretched,
Wretched be love, wretched,
Ay!
And he who gave me to understand it!
Ay!
Translation from Spanish to English copyright © 2003 by Claudia Landivar Cody, reprinted with permission from the LiederNet Archive.Artists- Anneke Stern, soprano