LOVE,
FAREWELL, & BEYOND
Rebekah Gilmore, soprano
and
Jeremiah Selvey, baritone
with
Mac Merchant, piano
PROGRAM NOTES &
TRANSLATIONS
FRIDAY NIGHT OUT
Grace Lutheran Church
March 19, 2010
7:30 p.m.
PROGRAM NOTES
When Jeremiah and Rebekah were brainstorming about this evening’s
program, we were joking about how many songs were about love and
how easy it would be to program a concert around that theme. But
love is such a big topic, so we narrowed it down to love in
relationship to the journeys often associated with it, namely farewells
and the aftermath of those farewells. Out of this comes several song
sets which have some sort of relationship between text or ideas. Try
to connect the dots. We dare you!
Some of the journeys in our life are long, some short. Most begin
with love or connection; some end in bitterness. Some hellos are
playful, some serious. Some goodbyes are filled with sorrow and
others hope for a future hello. Some journeys are through and others
in process. Where do you connect in each of these songs? Perhaps
your association is a memory, while your neighbor’s is the present,
and that friend across the room has yet to experience it.
LOVE, FAREWELL, & BEYOND
FAREWELL
Come away, come away, death is one of Shakespeare’s
text most often set to music, as are the texts that Gerald Finzi uses
in his song cycle Let Us Garlands Bring). Finzi’s setting captures
the hollow despair of the text, whose perspective sees the invitation
of death as more sweet than the rejection of a lover. The melismatic
depiction of weeping, perhaps one of the most effective in the
repertoire, gives character to the closing.
LOVE
Sometimes the bond of love is all one can see or grasp. The Matthew
Arnold poem Dover Beach portrays a brutal perspective of the
world. Acually, the scene begins rather romantically, perhaps after
dinner, and a bottle of wine. In the poem, the associations of
darkness in the world quickly taint the serene night scene and the
lulling waves of the sea. Samuel Barber captures this hopelessness
and darkness through the use of his neo-tonal style and
instrumentation (originally composed for string quartet). In the
middle of chaos, heartache, and despair stands one hope. This time, it
is not religion that comes to aid, but the commitment that bonds two
lovers. “Ah, love, let us be true to another” is in stark opposition to
the persistence of the other forces in the world.
FAREWELL
Some goodbyes are full of bitterness, including A Farewell by
Kirke Mechem. Perhaps you can somehow relate to having loved
and been burned. Among the plethora of emotions is bitterness,
perhaps even in a distant memory.
LOVE,
FAREWELL, &
BEYOND
War often separates loved ones. In Die bedien Gren adier , two
soldiers go off to war with the resolve to give up their lives and leave
their families in order to serve their emperor. Love for Napolean
wins over their love for family. In the end, one dies while singing the
tune of his national anthem. In true Robert Schumann fashion, he
composed a postlude embodying the painful death of the brave
soldier.
LOVE
&
FAREWELL
War causes siblings to leave, even in the direst of circumstances. In
the aria Avant de quitter ces lieu x from the opera Faust by
Charles Gounod, Valentin bids farewell to his sister Marguerite, for
whom he later dies, by asking his friends to protect her. He is torn by
the need to stay and care for Marguerite and going off for the cause;
as all good soldiers do, he chooses to go to battle. By clasping the
medallion gifted to him by Marguerite, he carries a part of her off to
war with him.
BEYOND
Charles Ives is known for his common use of bitonality (music
simultaneously in more than one key) and quotation. At the River
borrows from the song “Beautiful River” and even quotes from his
very own Sonata for Violin and Piano (No. 4). The twist of the last
phrase is striking. Ives repeats the initial question Shall we gather at the
river? and upsets the rhythmic flow. Perhaps Ives did not see the
answer to the question as so definitive. “Shall we gather at the river?”
becomes, not a rhetorical, but a skeptical question.
BEYOND
Moses Hogan helped build bridges from other cultural heritages to
that of African Americans. His settings of spirituals are full of
expression borrowed from multiple music genres and idioms that are
authentic to the African American tradition. You can hear both
exemplified in this profound setting of Deep River.
TEXTS & TRANSLATIONS
Tacete, ohimè, tacete
George F. Handel
Tacete, ohimè, tacete
Hush, oh, hush.
Entro fiorirta cuna
dorme Amor, nol vedete?
In a flowery bower
sleeps Love. Don’t you see him?
Non sia voce importuna
che li turba il riposeov’ or giace.
Let there not be an intrusive voice
that may disturb his repose who now rests.
Sol quando dorme Amore
il monde è in pace.
Only when Love sleeps
is the world at peace.
Come Away, Come Away, Death
(from Let Us Garlands Bring)
Text: William Shakespeare
Music: Gerald Finzi
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!
I Know That My Redeemer Liveth (Messiah)
Libretto: Charles Jennens
Music: George F. Handel
I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the
earth. And though worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God.
(Job 19:25-26)
For now is Christ risen from the dead, the first fruits of them that sleep.
(I Corinthians 15:20)
Dover Beach
Text: Matthew Arnold
Music: Samuel Barber
The sea is calm tonight,
The tide is full, the moon lies fair
Upon the straits; on the French coast the light
Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand,
Glimm’ring and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!
Only, from the long line of spray
Where the sea meets the moon-blanch’d land,
Listen! You hear the grating roar
Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,
At their return, up the high strand,
Begin, and cease, and then again begin,
With tremulous cadence slow, and bring
The eternal note of sadness in.
Sophocles long ago
Heard it on the Aegean, and it brought
Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow of human misery; we
Find also in the sound a thought,
Hearing it by this distant northern sea.
The sea of faith
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth’s shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled.
But now I only hear
Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,
Retreating to the breath
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear
And naked shingles of the world.
Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! For the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so fnew,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.
O Quam tu pulchra es
Text: Based on Song of Songs 4:1-2, 8
Music: Alessandro Grandi
O quam tu pulchra es amica mea,
quam pulchra es columba mea,
quam pulchra es formosa mea,
O quam tu pulchra es!
Oculi tui columbarum, capelli tui sicut greges
caprarum
et denti tui sicut greges tonsarum.
O quam tu pulchra es,
Veni, veni de Libano,
vani amica mea, columba mea, formosa mea.
Q quam tu pulchra es, veni, veni, coronaberis.
Surge, surge propera, surge, sponsa mea,
surge dilecta mea, surge immaculata mea.
Surge, veni, veni, veni, quia amore langueo.
Oh, how beautiful thou art, my love!
How beautiful thou art, my dove.
How beautiful thou art, my pretty one.
Oh, how beautiful thou art!
Your eyes are like a dove’s; your hair is like a flock
of goats,
Your teeth like a flock of ewes ready for shearing.
Oh, how beautiful thou art!
Come, come from Lebanon,
My love, my dove, my pretty one!
How beautiful thou art, come. Arise,
Arise my bride. Arise my delight.
Arise my spotless one.
Arise and come, for I am sick with love.
La Gelosia
Luigi Rossi
Gelosia, che a poco a poco nel mio cor
sependo vai,
Non entrar dov’ arde il foco, vero amor
non gela mai.
Jealousy, which creeps serpent-like into my
heart,
Do not enter where burns the fire of true
love; true love never chills.
Da me che brami?
Forse vuoi tu ch’io più non ami.
Furia dell’alma mia! Non mi tormentar
più!
Lasciami gelosia!
What do you want of me?
Perhaps you wish me to cease loving!
Fury of my soul! Cease to torment me! No
more! No more!
Depart from me, Jealousy, depart!
Ma crudel, tu pur pian piano del mio cor
stai sulle porte.
Fuggi, fuggi, oimè, lontano
But cruel, you remain quietly at the gates of
my heart.
Flee, flee from me.
Del tuo gel è Amor più forte.
Da me che brami?
Godendo io sto de’ miei pensieri.
Furia dell’alma mia!
Non più rigor, no, no! Lasciami gelosia.
Love is stronger than your icy chill.
What do you want of me?
I am happy with my thoughts.
My soul’s fury, constrain me not.
No, no! Leave me. Jealousy, depart, depart!
A Farewell
Text & Music: Kirke L. Mechem
Before it was spring
And I was a man,
I gave you my heart,
As only youth can.
I gave you my heart,
Naïve as a youth,
Believing love beauty
And beauty all truth.
As only youth can,
I swore I was blest,
With love like a shadow
Clasped to my breast.
With love like a shadow
Grotesque on the pyre
Where youth burned to ashes
With lust for the fire.
Clasped to my breast
No more!—nor Farewell;
And my we meet never, never
This side of hell.
INTERMISSION
Die beiden Grenadiere (The Two G reandiers)
Text: H. Heine
Music: Robert Schumann
Nach Frankreich zogen zwei Greandier’,.
Die waren in Russland gefangen.
Und als se kamen ins deusche Quartier,
Sie liessen die Köpfe hangen.
Da hörten sie beide die traurige Mähr’:
Dass Frankreich verloren gegangen,
Besiegt und geschlagen das tapfere Heer,
Und der Kaiser, der Kaiser gefangen.
Da weinten zusammen dei Grenadier’
Wohl ob der kläglichen Kunde.
Der eine sprach: “Wie weh’ wird mir,
Wie brennt meine alte Wunde!”
Der Andres sprach: “Das lied is t aus,
Auch ich möcht’ mit dir sterben,
Doch hab’ ich Weib unk Kind zu Haus,
Die ohne mich verderben.”
“Was schert mich WEaib, was chert mich Kind,
Ich trage weit besser Veralngen;
Lass sie betteln gehn, wenn sie hungig sind,
Mein kaiser, mein Kaiser gefangen!
Gewähr’ mir, Burder, eine Bitt’:
So nimm meine Lieche nach Frankreich mit,
Begrab’ mich in Frankreichs Erde.
Das Ehrenkreuz am rotten Band
Sollst du auf’s Herz mir legen;
Die Flinte gib mir in die hand,
Und gürt’, mir um den Degen.
So will ich liegen und horchen still,
Wie eine Schildwach’, im Grabe,
Bis einst ich höre Kanonengebrüll
Und wiehernder Rosse Getrabel.
Dann reitet mein Kaiser wohl über mein Grab,
Viel Schwerter klirren und blitzen;
Dann steig’ ich gewaffnet hervor aus dem Grab,
Den Kaiser, den Kaiser zu schützen!”
To France were returning two grenadiers
Who had been in Russia in prison.
And when to the German lodging they
came,
They sadly bowed their heads.
There they were told the sorrowful tale:
That France had been lost and defeated,
Conquered and beaten the valiant army,
And the Emperor, the Emperor captured.
Then wept the grenadiers together
Over the mournful tidings.
One said: “How my heart aches,
How my old wound is burning!”
The other said: “The song is o’er,
I too would fain die with you,
But I have a wife and child at home,
Who without me will perish.”
“What care I for wife, what care I for child,
I have a far better desire;
Let them go begging if hungry they are,
My Emperor, my Emperor captured!
Grant me, brother, but one request:
If I should now die, take my body to France,
Entomb me in France’s soil.
The medal on the red ribbon
You shall lay upon my heart;
Give me the musket in my hands,
And buckle on my sabre.
Thus I will lie and listen still,
Like a sentinel in the grave,
Till some day I shall hear the cannon’s roar
And the trotting of neighing steeds,
It is then my Emperor will ride over my
grave,
Many swords will be clanking and sparkling,
Then shall I rise, fully armed, out of my
grave,
My Emperor, my Emperor defending!”
Avant de quitter ces lieux (from Faust)
Libretto: Jules Barbier
Music: Charles Gounod
Tranlsation: Lea Frey
O sainte médaille,
Qui me vient de ma soeur,
Au jour de la bataille,
Pour écarter la mort,
Reste sur mon coeur.
O, holy medal
Which comes to me from my sister,
On the day of battle,
To guard against death,
Stay on my heart.
Avant de quitter ces lieux,
Sol natal de mes aïeux
A toi, Seigneur et Roi des cieux,
Ma soeur je confie.
Daigne de tout danger
Toujours, toujours la proteger,
Cette soeur si chérie
daigne de tout danger la proteger,
Daigne la protéger de tout danger!
Délivré d’une triste pensée
J’irai chercher la gloire,
La gloire au sein des ennemis,
Le prémier, le plus brave,
Au fort de la mèlée,
J’irai combattre pour mon pays,
Et si, vers lui, Dieu me rappelle,
Je veillerai sur toi fidèle,
Ô Marguerite!
Before leaving this place,
Native soil of my ancestors,
To you, Lord and King of heaven
My sister I entrust.
Deign from all danger
Always, always to protect her,
This sister, so dear,
Deign from all danger to protect her,
Deign to protect her from all danger!
Delivered from a sad thought,
I will go in search of glory,
Glory in the midst of enemies,
The first, the bravest,
In the heat of the fray,
I will go to do combat for my country,
And if, to him, God calls me back,
I will watch over you loyally,
Oh, Marguerite!
Avant de quitter ses lieux,
Sol natale de mes aïeux,
A toi, Seigneur et Roi des cieux,
Ma soeur je confie!
Ô Roi des cieux, jette les yeux,
Protège Marguerite, Roi des cieux!
Before leaving this place,
Native soil of my ancestors,
To you, Lord and King of Heaven,
I entrust my sister!
Oh King of heaven, look down (on her),
Protect Marguerite, King of Heaven!
The Sally Gardens
Text: W. B. Yeats
Music: Benjamin Britten
Down by the Sally gardens, my love and I did meet,
She passed the Sally gardens with little snow-white feet.
She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree,
But I being young and foolish with her did not agree.
In a field by the river my love and I did stand,
And on my leaning shoulder she laid her snow-white hand;
She bid me take life easy as the grass grows on the weirs,
But I was young and foolish, and now am full of tears.
The Last Rose of Summer
from Thomas Moore’s Irish Melodies,
arr. Benjamin Britten
'Tis the last rose of summer left blooming alone;
All her lovely companions are faded and gone;
No flower of her kindred, no rosebud is nigh
To reflect back her blushes or give sigh for sigh.
I'll not leave thee, thou lone one, to pine on the stem;
Since the lovely are sleeping, go sleep thou with them;
Thus kindly I scatter thy leaves o'er the bed
Where thy mates of the garden lie senseless and dead.
So soon may I follow when friendships decay
And from love's shining circle the gems drop away
When true hearts lie withered and fond ones are flown,
Oh! who would inhabit this bleak world alone?
The Ash Grove
arr. Benjamin Britten
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 was 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 its 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.
At the River
Charles Ives
Shall we gather at the river, Where bright angel feet have trod,
With its crystal tide forever Flowing by the throne of God?
Gather at the River! Yes, we’ll gather at the river,
The beautiful, the beautiful river, Yes, we’ll gather at the river
That flows by the throne of God.
Shall we gather at the river?
Shall we gather at the river?
Deep River
Text: traditional spiritual
Music: traditional spiritual, arr. Moses Hogan
Deep river, my home is over Jordan.
Deep river Lord, I want to cross over into campground. Hm.
Oh, don’t you want to go, to that gospel feast,
That promised land where all is peace.
Deep river, Lord, I want to cross over into campground. Hm.
Pie Jesu (from Requiem)
Gabriel Fauré
Pie Jesu Domine,
dona eis requiem,
requiem sempiternam.
Merciful Lord Jesus,
grant them rest,
rest everlasting.