Spring Forward Festival: Song Recital I

NEC: Williams Hall | Directions

290 Huntington Ave.
Boston, MA
United States

Welcome to NEC's Spring Forward Festival — a 10-day, on-campus performance intensive taking place May 17–26!

The Spring Forward Festival is an opportunity for students who have been working remotely this academic year to return to NEC and collaborate with each other. The festival will feature rehearsals, coachings, and performance classes, as well as individual practice time, followed by a series of performances between May 21–26 that are broadcast live from campus via the NEC website. For more on the festival, click here

Enjoy today's Spring Forward Festival Song Recital performance!

Watch Live Stream from Williams Hall

  • Sophia Donelan and Hannah Shanefield, soprano
  • Colin Miller, Jay Hutzler, and David Rivera Bozón, tenor
  • Miles Fellenberg, piano
  1. Franz Schubert | Der Müller und der Bach


    Der Müller und der Bach

    Wo ein treues Herze

    In Liebe vergeht,
    Da welken die Lilien
    Auf jedem Beet.
    Da muss in die Wolken
    Der Vollmond gehen,
    Damit seine Tränen
    Die Menschen nicht sehn.
    Da halten die Englein
    Die Augen sich zu,
    Und schluchzen und singen
    Die Seele zu Ruh’.

    Und wenn sich die Liebe
    Dem Schmerz entringt,
    Ein Sternlein, ein neues
    Am Himmel erblinkt.
    Da springen drei Rosen,
    Halb rot und halb weiss,
    Die welken nicht wieder
    Aus Dornenreis.
    Und die Engelein schneiden
    Die Flügel sich ab,
    Und gehn alle Morgen
    Zur Erde herab.

    Ach, Bächlein, liebes Bächlein,
    Du meinst es so gut:
    Ach, Bächlein, aber weisst du,
    Wie Liebe tut?
    Ach, unten, da unten,
    Die kühle Ruh’!
    Ach, Bächlein, liebes Bächlein,
    So singe nur zu.

    Wilhelm Müller

    The Miller and the Brook

    Where a true heart

    dies of love,
    the lilies wilt
    in their beds.
    There the full moon
    must disappear behind clouds
    so that mankind
    does not see its tears.
    There angels
    cover their eyes
    and, sobbing, sing
    the soul to rest.

    And when love
    struggles free of sorrow,
    a new star
    shines in the sky.
    Three roses,
    half-red, half-white,
    spring from thorny stems
    and will never wither.
    And the angels
    cut off their wings,
    and every morning
    descend to earth.

    Ah, brook, beloved brook,
    you mean so well:
    ah, brook, but do you know
    what love can do?
    Ah, below, down below,
    is cool rest!
    Brook, beloved brook, 

    sing on.

    Translation© Richard Wigmore, author of Schubert: The Complete Song Texts, published by Schirmer Books, provided courtesy of Oxford Lieder [www.oxfordlieder.co.uk]

    • Colin Miller, tenor
  2. Robert Schumann | Der Nussbaum


    Der Nussbaum

    Es grünet ein Nussbaum, vor dem Haus,

    Breitet er blättrig die Blätter aus.

    Viel liebliche Blüten stehen d’ran,
    Kommen, sie herzlich zu umfahn.

    Es flüstern je zwei zu zwei gepaart,
    Zierlich zum Kusse die Häuptchen zart.

    Sie flüstern von einem Mägdlein, das
    Die Nächte
    Und Tagelang, wüsste ach! selber nicht was.

    Sie flüstern—wer mag verstehen so gar
    Flüstern von Bräut’gam und nächstem Jahr.

    Das Mägdlien horchet, es rauscht im Baum;
    Sinkt es lächelnd in Schlaf und Traum. 

    Julius Mosen

    The Walnut Tree

    A nut tree blossoms outside the house,

    It spreads its leafy boughs.

    Many lovely blossoms it bears,
    Come to caress them tenderly.

    Paired together, they whisper,
    Gracefully their delicate heads to kiss.

    They whisper of a maiden who
    For nights
    And days of, alas, she knew not what.

    They whisper—who can understand
    So soft
    A song?
    Whisper of a bridegroom and next year.

    The maiden listens, the tree rustles;
    She drifts smiling into sleep and dreams.

    Translation © Richard Stokes, author of The Book of Lieder, published by Faber, provided courtesy of Oxford Lieder, www.oxfordlieder.co.uk

    • Sophia Donelan, soprano
  3. Robert Schumann | Am leuchtenden Sommermorgen


    Am leuchtenden Sommermorgen

    Am leuchtenden Sommermorgen

    Geh’ ich im Garten herum.
    Es flüstern und sprechen die Blumen,
    Ich aber wandle stumm.

    Es flüstern und sprechen die Blumen,
    Und schau’n mitleidig mich an:
    „Sei unsrer Schwester nicht böse,

    Du trauriger, blasser Mann.“

    Heinrich Heine


    One bright summer morning

    One bright summer morning

    I walk around the garden.
    The flowers whisper and talk,
    But I walk silently.

    The flowers whisper and talk,
    And look at me in pity: 

    ‘Be not angry with our sister,

    You sad, pale man.’

    Translation © Richard Stokes, author of The Book of Lieder, published by Faber, provided courtesy of Oxford Lieder, www.oxfordlieder.co.uk

    • Jay Hutzler, tenor
  4. Georges Bizet | Adieux de l'hôtesse arabe


    Adieux de l’hôtese arabe

    Puisque rien ne t’arrête en cet heureux pays,
    Ni l’ombre du palmier, ni le jaune maïs,
    Ni le repos, ni l’abondance,
    Ni de voir à ta voix battre le jeune sein
    De nos sœurs, dont, les soirs, le tournoyant essaim
    Couronne un coteau de sa danse,

    Adieu, beau voyageur! Hélas adieu.
    Oh! que n’es-tu de ceux
    Qui donnent pour limite à leurs pieds paresseux
    Leur toit de branches ou de toiles!
    Que, rêveurs, sans en faire, écoutent les récits,
    Et souhaitent, le soir, devant leur porte assis,
    De s’en aller dans les étoiles!

    Si tu l’avais voulu, peut-être une de nous,

    O jeune homme, eût aimé te servir à genoux
    Dans nos huttes toujours ouvertes;
    Elle eût fait, en berçant ton sommeil de ses chants,
    Pour chasser de ton front les moucherons méchants,

    Un éventail de feuilles vertes.

    Si tu ne reviens pas, songe un peu quelquefois
    Aux filles du désert, sœurs à la douce voix,
    Qui dansent pieds nus sur la dune;
    O beau jeune homme blanc, bel oiseau passager,
    Souviens-toi, car peut-être, ô rapide étranger,
    Ton souvenir reste à plus d’une!
    Hélas! Adieu! bel étranger! Souviens-toi!

    Victor Hugo

    Farewell of the Arabian hostess

    Since nothing can keep you in this happy land,

    neither shade-giving palm nor yellow corn,
    nor repose, nor abundance,
    nor the sight of our sisters’ young breasts trembling
    at your voice as, in a whirling swarm at evening,
    they garland a hillside with their dance.

    Farewell, fair traveller! Ah!
    Why are you not like those
    whose indolent feet venture no further
    than their roofs of branch or canvas!
    Who, musing, listen passively to tales
    and dream at evening, sitting before their door,
    of wandering among the stars!

    Had you so wished, perhaps one of us,
    O young man, would fain have served you, kneeling,
    in our ever-open huts;
    lulling you asleep with songs, she would have made,
    to chase the noisome midges from your brow, 

    a fan of green leaves. 

    If you do not return, dream at times
    of the daughters of the desert, sweet-voiced sisters,
    who dance barefoot on the dunes;
    O handsome young white man, fair bird of passage,
    remember – for perhaps, O fleeting stranger,
    more than one maiden will remember you!
    Alas! Farewell, fair stranger! Remember!

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

    • Hannah Shanefield, soprano
  5. Roger Quilter | Now sleeps the crimson petal


    Now sleeps the crimson petal

    Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white;

    Nor waves the cypress in the palace walk;
    Nor winks the gold fin in the porphyry font:
    The fire-fly wakens: waken thou with me.

    Now folds the lily all her sweetness up,
    And slips into the bosom of the lake:
    So fold thyself, my dearest, thou, and slip
    Into my bosom and be lost in me.

    Alfred Lord Tennyson

    • David Rivera Bozón, tenor