Recital: Jimin Park '21 BM, Soprano
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.
Jimin Park '21 BM studies Voice with Bradley Williams and is the recipient of the Presidential Distinction Award.
- Jimin Park '21 BM, soprano
- Leona Cheung, piano
- Bradley Williams, studio instructor
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart | Vado, ma dove? K. 583
Text
Vado, ma dove?
Vado, ma dove? O Dei!
Se de' tormenti suoi,
Se de' sospiri miei
Non sente il ciel pietà!
Tu che mi parli al core,
Guida i miei passi, amore;
Tu quel ritegno or togli
Che dubitar mi fa.
Lorenzo Da PonteI go, but where?
I go, but where? Oh Gods!
If for his torments,
If for my sighs,
Heaven feels no pity!
You who speak to my heart,
Guide my footsteps, love;
Remove that obstacle now
That makes me doubt.
Literal translation and IPA transcription © 2008 by Bard Suverkrop—IPA Source, LLCWolfgang Amadeus Mozart | Chi sà, chi sà, qual sia K. 582
Text
Chi sà, chi sà, qual sia
Chi sà, chi sà, qual sia
l'affanno del mio bene,
Se sdegno, gelosia,
Timor, sospetto, amor.
Voi che sapete, o Dei,
I puri affetti miei,
Voi questo dubbio amaro
Toglietemi dal cor.
Lorenzo Da PonteWho knows what feeling
Who knows, who knows,
What may be the anxiety of my beloved,
If it be anger, jealousy,
Fear, suspicion, love.
You, O Gods, who know
My pure affections
Take away this bitter uncertainty
From my heart
Literal translation and IPA transcription © 2008 by Bard Suverkrop—IPA Source, LLCClaude Debussy | Ariettes oubliées
C'est l'extase
Il pleure dans mon coeur
L'ombre des arbres
Paysage belges: Chevaux de bois
Aquarelles I: Green
Aquarelles II: SpleenTexts
C’est l’extase
C’est l’extase langoureuse,
C’est la fatigue amoureuse,
C’est tous les frissons des bois
Parmi l’étreinte des brises,
C’est, vers les ramures grises,
Le chœur des petites voix.
O le frêle et frais murmure!
Cela gazouille et susurre,
Cela ressemble au cri doux
Que l’herbe agitée expire …
Tu dirais, sous l’eau qui vire,
Le roulis sourd des cailloux.
Cette âme qui se lamente
En cette plainte dormante
C’est la nôtre, n’est-ce pas?
La mienne, dis, et la tienne,
Dont s’exhale l’humble antienne
Par ce tiède soir, tout bas?
Paul VerlaineIt’s the languorous ecstasy
It is the languorous ecstasy,
It is the fatigue after love,
It is all the rustling of the wood,
In the embrace of breezes;
It is near the gray branches:
A chorus of tiny voices.
Oh, what a frail and fresh murmur!
It babbles and whispers,
It resembles the soft noise
That waving grass exhales.
You might say it were, under the bending stream,
The muffled sound of rolling pebbles.
This soul, which laments
And this dormant moan,
It is ours, is it not?
Mine, and yours too,
Whose humble anthem we breathe
On this mild evening, so very quietly?
Translation copyright © by Emily Ezust, from the LiederNet Archive https://www.lieder.net/Il pleure dans mon cœur
Il pleure dans mon cœur
Comme il pleut sur la ville;
Quelle est cette langueur
Qui pénètre mon cœur?
O bruit doux de la pluie
Par terre et sur les toits!
Pour un cœur qui s’ennuie
O le bruit de la pluie!
Il pleure sans raison
Dans ce cœur qui s’écœure.
Quoi! nulle trahison? …
Ce deuil est sans raison.
C’est bien la pire peine
De ne savoir pourquoi
Sans amour et sans haine,
Mon cœur a tant de peine.
Paul VerlaineTears fall in my heart
Tears fall in my heart
As rain falls on the town;
What is this torpor
Pervading my heart?
Ah, the soft sound of rain
On the ground and roofs!
For a listless heart,
Ah, the sound of the rain!
Tears fall without reason
In this disheartened heart.
What! Was there no treason? …
This grief’s without reason.
And the worst pain of all
Must be not to know why
Without love and without hate
My heart feels such pain.
Translation © Richard Stokes, from A French Song Companion (Oxford, 2000) provided courtesy of Oxford Lieder,www.oxfordlieder.co.ukL’ombre des arbres
L’ombre des arbres dans la rivière embrumée
Meurt comme de la fumée
Tandis qu’en l’air, parmi les ramures réelles,
Se plaignent les tourterelles.
Combien, ô voyageur, ce paysage blême
Te mira blême toi-même,
Et que tristes pleuraient dans les hautes feuillées
Tes espérances noyées.
Paul VerlaineThe shadow of trees
The shadow of trees in the misty stream
Dies like smoke,
While up above, in the real branches,
The turtle-doves lament.
How this faded landscape, O traveller,
Watched you yourself fade,
And how sadly in the lofty leaves
Your drowned hopes were weeping!
Translation © Richard Stokes, from A French Song Companion (Oxford, 2000) provided courtesy of Oxford Lieder,www.oxfordlieder.co.ukPaysages belges: Chevaux de bois
Tournez, tournez, bons chevaux de bois,
Tournez cent tours, tournez mille tours,
Tournez souvent et tournez toujours,
Tournez, tournez au son des hautbois.
L’enfant tout rouge et la mère blanche,
Le gars en noir et la fille en rose,
L’une à la chose et l’autre à la pose,
Chacun se paie un sou de dimanche.
Tournez, tournez, chevaux de leur cœur,
Tandis qu’autour de tous vos tournois
Clignote l’œil du filou sournois,
Tournez au son du piston vainqueur!
C’est étonnant comme ça vous soûle,
D’aller ainsi dans ce cirque bête:
Rien dans le ventre et mal dans la tête,
Du mal en masse et du bien en foule.
Tournez dadas, sans qu’il soit besoin
D’user jamais de nuls éperons
Pour commander à vos galops ronds
Tournez, tournez, sans espoir de foin.
Et dépêchez, chevaux de leur âme,
Déjà voici que sonne à la soupe
La nuit qui tombe et chasse la troupe
De gais buveurs que leur soif affame.
Tournez, tournez! Le ciel en velours
D’astres en or se vêt lentement,
L’Église tinte un glas tristement.
Tournez au son joyeux des tambours, tournez!
Paul VerlaineMerry-go-round
Turn, turn, you fine wooden horses,
Turn a hundred, turn a thousand times,
Turn often and turn for evermore
Turn and turn to the oboe’s sound.
The red-faced child and the pale mother,
The lad in black and the girl in pink,
One down-to-earth, the other showing off,
Each buying a treat with his Sunday sou.
Turn, turn, horses of their hearts,
While the furtive pickpocket’s eye is flashing
As you whirl about and whirl around,
Turn to the sound of the conquering cornet!
Astonishing how drunk it makes you,
Riding like this in this foolish fair:
With an empty stomach and an aching head,
Discomfort in plenty and masses of fun!
Gee-gees, turn, you’ll never need
The help of any spur
To make your horses gallop round:
Turn, turn, without hope of hay.
And hurry on, horses of their souls:
Nightfall already calls them to supper
And disperses the crowd of happy revellers, Ravenous with thirst.
Turn, turn! The velvet sky
Is slowly decked with golden stars.
The church bell tolls a mournful knell—
Turn to the joyful sound of drums!Translation © Richard Stokes, from A French Song Companion (Oxford, 2000) provided courtesy of Oxford Lieder,www.oxfordlieder.co.uk
Aquarelles I: Green
Voici des fruits, des fleurs, des feuilles et des branches
Et puis voici mon cœur qui ne bat que pour vous.
Ne le déchirez pas avec vos deux mains blanches
Et qu’à vos yeux si beaux l’humble présent soit doux.
J’arrive tout couvert encore de rosée
Que le vent du matin vient glacer à mon front.
Souffrez que ma fatigue à vos pieds reposée
Rêve des chers instants qui la délasseront.
Sur votre jeune sein laissez rouler ma tête
Toute sonore encore de vos derniers baisers;
Laissez-la s’apaiser de la bonne tempête,
Et que je dorme un peu puisque vous reposez.
Paul VerlaineGreen
Here are flowers, branches, fruit, and fronds,
And here too is my heart that beats just for you.
Do not tear it with your two white hands
And may the humble gift please your lovely eyes.
I come all covered still with the dew
Frozen to my brow by the morning breeze.
Let my fatigue, finding rest at your feet,
Dream of dear moments that will soothe it.
On your young breast let me cradle my head
Still ringing with your recent kisses;
After love’s sweet tumult grant it peace,
And let me sleep a while, since you rest.
Translation © Richard Stokes, from A French Song Companion (Oxford, 2000) provided courtesy of Oxford Lieder,www.oxfordlieder.co.ukAquarelles II: Spleen
Les roses étaient toutes rouges
Et les lierres étaient tout noirs.
Chère, pour peu que tu te bouges,
Renaissent tous mes désespoirs.
Le ciel était trop bleu, trop tendre,
La mer trop verte et l’air trop doux.
Je crains toujours,—ce qu’est d’attendre!—
Quelque fuite atroce de vous.
Du houx à la feuille vernie
Et du luisant buis je suis las,
Et de la campagne infinie
Et de tout, fors de vous, Hélas!
Paul VerlaineSpleen
Translation © Richard Stokes, from A French Song Companion (Oxford, 2000) provided courtesy of Oxford Lieder,www.oxfordlieder.co.uk
All the roses were red
And the ivy was all black.
Dear, at your slightest move,
All my despair revives.
The sky was too blue, too tender,
The sea too green, the air too mild.
I always fear—oh to wait and wonder!—
One of your agonizing departures.
I am weary of the glossy holly,
Of the gleaming box-tree too,
And the boundless countryside
And everything, alas, but you!---intermission
Jake Heggie | from Natural Selections
Creation
Animal Passion
Alas! Alack!Texts
Creation
I give birth to myself
My own mother and father
For years I ran like a clockwork mouse
Mama says, Papa says
When does Goldilocks say
I am
Driven, I didn’t stop
Expected more from the umbilicus
Never once got off the hook line or sinker
Now before the world
I reach out
Gini Savage
Animal Passion
Fierce as a bobcat’s spring
With start-up speeds of sixty miles per hour
I want a lover to sweep me off my feet
And slide me into the gutter
Without the niceties of small-talk roses or champagne
I mean business, I want whiskey
I want to be swallowed whole,
I want tiles to spring off of walls
When we enter hotel rooms or afternoon apartments
I won’t pussyfoot around responsibility
“Shoulds” and “oughts” are out for good
And I don’t want to be a fat domestic cat
I want to be frantic
Yowls and growls to sound like the lion house at feeding time
I don’t give a damn who hears, I don’t give a damn!
No discreet eavesdropper’s coughs can stop us in our frenzy
Let the voyeurs voient
And let the great cats come
Gini Savage
Alas! Alack!
Alas! Alack!
I have a knack for falling for the wrong man
Cavaradossi or Don Ottavio were just too tame
I never seem to want to stick to my own script
It’s the chain-smoking bad guy in leather
The one who’ll ruffle my feathers the most
Who gets me
I fear it’s a lack - Alas!
As Tosca I lost it over Scarpia
Not such a bad fella
He had the power and the steady job
The better tune
So when they asked me to pick up the knife and dispatch him I demurred
Perhaps it was his theme song I preferred
I know there’s a lack - Alas!
If I were Oberon, I’d choose Puck,
For Pamina, it’s Papagena
If I’m Brünnhilde it’s bound to be Wotan on whom I’m stuck
If Isolde were smitten by King Mark or Melot
Would it make her a zealot?
Damn!
I know there’s a lack - Alas!
Gini SavageJoseph Marx | Songs
Maienblüten
Selige Nacht
Nocturne
Hat dich die Liebe berührtTexts
Maienblüten
Duld' es still, wenn von den Zweigen,
blüten wehn ins fromme Haar,
und sich sacht hernieder neigen,
Lippenpaar auf Lippenpaar.
Sieh, ein Leben süß und wunderlich
rinnt durch übersonnte Blätterreihen.
Alle Blüten, die sie niederstreuen,
Frühling breiten sie auf dich und mich.
Ludwig JacobowskyMay Blossoms
Quietly endure it, when from the branches,
blossoms drift into your lovely hair,
and bow down gently,
Two pair of lips, one on the other
Look, a sweet and wondrous trembling life
flows through sundrenched rows of leaves,
All the blossoms that fall,
Spring is spreading blessings on you and me
Literal translation and IPA transcription © 2010 by Bard Suverkrop—IPA Source, LLCSelige Nacht
Im Arm der Liebe schliefen wir selig ein.
Am offnen Fenster lauschte der Sommerwind,
und uns’rer Atemzüge Frieden
trug er hinaus in die helle Mondnacht.
Und aus dem Garten tastete zagend sich
ein Rosenduft an uns’rer Liebe Bett
und gab uns wundervolle Träume,
Träume des Rausches, so reich an Sehnsucht.
Otto Erich HartlebenBlissful Night
In the arms of love we fell blissfully asleep.
The summer wind listened at the open window,
and carried the peace of our breathing
into the bright moon-lit night.
And from the garden, the scent of roses
cautiously touched our bed of love
and gave us wonderful dreams,
Dreams of ecstasy, so rich in longing.
Translation © 1996 by Steven LedbetterNocturne
Süß duftende Lindenblüte
in quellender Juninacht.
Eine Wonne aus meinem Gemüte
ist mir in Sinnen erwacht.
Als klänge vor meinen Ohren
leise das Lied vom Glück,
als töne, die lange verloren,
die Jugend leise zurück.
Süß duftende Lindenblüte
in quellender Juninacht.
Eine Wonne aus meinem Gemüte
ist mir zu Schmerzen erwacht.
Otto Erich HartlebenNocturne
Sweetly fragrant linden blossoms
in the flowing June night.
A feeling of delight in my soul
has awakened in my consciousness.
As if I heard ringing in my ears
the soft song of happiness;
echoing softly,
the long lost song of youth.
Sweetly fragrant linden blossoms
in the flowing June night.
A feeling of delight in my soul
turns to pain within me.
Literal translation and IPA transcription © 2008 by Bard Suverkrop—IPA Source, LLCHat dich die Liebe berührt
Hat dich die Liebe berührt,
still unter lärmendem Volke,
gehst du in gold’ner Wolke,
sicher vom Gotte geführt.
Nur wie verloren umher,
lässest die Blicke du wandern,
gönnst ihre Freuden den Andern,
trägst nur nach einem Begehr.
Scheu in dich selber verzückt,
möchtest du leugnen vergebens,
daß nun die Krone des Lebens,
strahlend die Stirn dir schmückt.
Paul HeyseIf love has touched you
If love has touched you,
quietly amid the noisy crowd,
you will walk among golden clouds,
safely guided by God.
As if lost,
you let your glances wonder,
allow others their pleasures,
As you live for only one desire.
Timidly trying to conceal your ecstacy,
you attempt, in vain, to deny
that the crown of life now
radiantly adorns your brow.
Literal translation and IPA transcription © 2008 by Bard Suverkrop—IPA Source, LLCDong Jin Kim | 신아리랑 (New Arirang)
Text
신아리랑
아리랑아리랑아라리요
아리랑고개로넘어간다
싸리문여잡고기다리는가
기러긴달밤을줄져간다
모란꽃필적에정다웁게만난이
흰국화시들듯시들어도안오네
서산엔달도지고홀로안타까운데
가슴에얽힌정풀어볼길없어라
아리랑아리랑아라리요
아리랑고개로넘어간다
아리랑아리랑아라리요
아리랑고개로넘어간다
초가집삼간을저산밑에짓고
흐르는시내처럼살아볼까나
아리랑아리랑아라리요
아리랑고개로넘어간다
Myeong Mun YangNew Arirang
Arirang, Arirang, Arariyo
Go over the hill of Arirang
Shall I wait clutching the bushwood gate ajar?
Wild geese fly in rows through the moonlight night.
The love I met when peonies blossomed
Never returned even when the white
chrysanthemums began to wither.
The moon sets beyond the western mountains, it’s pitiful to be alone
With no way to untangle the affection that binds my heart
Arirang, Arirang, Arariyo
Go over the hill of Arirang
Arirang, Arirang, Arariyo
Go over the hill of Arirang
Shall I build a thatched cottage at the base of that mountain
And live like a flowing stream?
Arirang, Arirang, Arariyo
Go over the hill of Arirang
Translation by Youngsik ChoiWoon Young Na | 시편 23편 (Psalm 23)
Text
시편 23편
여호와는나의목자시니
내게부족함이없으리로다
나로하여금푸른초장에
눕게하시며
잔잔한물가로인도하시도다
진실로선함과
인자하심이
나의사는날까지
나를따르리니
내가여호와전에영원토록거하리로다
아멘
Woon Young NaPsalm 23
The Lord is my shepherd,
I lack nothing
He makes me lie down
in green pastures,
leads me besides quiet waters
Surely His goodness
and kindness
will follow me all the days
of my life
I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever
Amen
from Psalm 23