Beruflich Dokumente
Kultur Dokumente
DEPARTMENT OF MUSIC
Presents
DAVID BAXTER
&
AARON EAVES
In a Junior Recital of Vocal Performance
Jeunes Fillettes
PROGRAM
Fin chhan dal vino
From Don Giovanni
W.A. Mozart
S, tra i ceppi
From Berenice (HWV 38)
G. F. Handel
Claude Debussy
David Baxter, Tenor
Song of Devotion
Beggars Song
Samuel Barber
Serenader
Theres Nae Lark
Franz Schubert
III. Halt!
IV. Danksagung An Den Bach
V. Am Feierabend
Aaron Eaves, Baritone
My Time of Day
From Guys and Dolls
Frank Loesser
Poison in My Pocket
Steven Lutvak
Bois pais
From Amadis
Nicolas Dalayrac
Rve Damour
Gabriel Faur
Au Cimetire
Sam Carner
and Derek Gregor
David Baxter, Tenor
Nell
Aaron Eaves, Baritone
J.S. Bach
PROGRAM NOTES
WOLFGANG AMADEUS MOZART (1756 1791)
Wolfgang A. Mozart was an Austrian born composer. Mozart
during his early years was well known as music prodigy. His father
who was also a musician took young Mozart and he performed on
the piano, composed pieces and gained notice from the nobility. He
wrote an opera at the age of 13 for the court of Milan. He
continued to write Operas, Symphonies, String Quartets, Sonatas,
and Concerti. Two notable Operas are Don Giovanni and The
Marriage of Figaro, which were both written by both Mozart and
Lorenzo Da Ponte.
Berenice (1737)
Berenice is based upon the life of Cleopatra Berenice, daughter of
Ptolemy IX, who is the main character of Handels opera Tolomeo.
The aria S, tra i ceppi is sung by the actress playing Berenice, but
is very commonly sung by men in concerts and recitals.
proclaims his love for the millers daughter and describes how he
wants even the stars to proclaim his love for her. The traveller
believes that he has finally secured his love in Mein! and he
commands the birds of the air to stop their melodies and sing of his
love. He discovers that her favorite color is green and sings of how
lovely the color is, but soon finds out that she has met a hunter and
fallen in love with him and sings about how he hates the color
green. He becomes so frustrated and depressed that he throws
himself into the brook and drowns himself. The final song of the
cycle is a lullaby sung by the brook. Scholars are still in debate
whether the brook is really the boys friend or a fiend who leads
the boy to his own destruction.
today. He also wrote beautiful art songs that are popular today and
still widely used by singers.
This particular art song was one of the more early art songs that
Faur wrote. The text of this song comes from Victor Hugo who
Faur tends to use quite a few times. The text comes from the book
Tristesse dOlympio by Hugo.
Song of Devotion
Serenader (1934)
This composition was completed March, 1934. Composed in
Vienna. Unpublished during the composers lifetime, the song was
Translations
Nell
Under your bright sun, oh summer,
Your red, red rose sparkles ecstatically.
Lean over me too with your golden cup
My heart resembles your rose.
Under the shady, sheltering leaves
There rises a sigh of delight.
In the grove there are doves cooing,
Singing their love-songs (oh my heart!).
How sweet in the flame-red sky is the
pearl,
The star of pensive night!
But how much sweeter is the vivid
Glow
That shines in my enchanted heart!
The singing sea all along its shores
Will end its eternal murmuring
Before your image, oh Nell my love,
Ceases to bloom in my heart.
Jeunes fillettes
Young Girls
Young little girls,
Waste not your time, seize the moment
The violet is picked in spring
This little flower stays,
But a short while,
As does infatuation.
At this ripe age,
Take up a friend,
If he is fickle,
Return to him the favor.
Nuit dEtoilles
Night of Stars
Starry night, beneath your pinions,
beneath your breeze and your perfumes,
Lyre, in sorrow, softly sighing,
I dream of a love long past.
Melancholy, so sadly tranquil,
Fills with gloom my poor weary heart.
And I hear your dear soul, my darling,
Quivering in the dreamy wood.
happens.
I sought after work,
Now I have enough,
For my hands, for my heart, I have
more than enough!
Am Feierabend
On the Restful Evening
If I had a thousand arms to move!
I could drive
The wheels with a roar! I could blow
Through all the copses!
I could turn
All the millstones!
Then the millers daughter Could sense
my true purpose!
Oh, how weak my arms are!
What I lift, what I carry,
What I cut, what I hammer,
Any fellow can do as well.
And there I sit among all the others In
the quiet, cool time of rest,
And the master says to all of us: I am
pleased with your work, And the lovely
maiden said Goodnight to everyone.
Der neugierige
The Curious One
I ask no flower,
I ask no star;
None of them can tell me,
What I so eagerly want to know.
I am surely not a gardener,
The stars stand too high;
My brooklet will I ask,
Whether my heart has lied to me.
O brooklet of my love,
Why are you so quiet today?
I want to know just one thing One little word again and again.
The one little word is "Yes";
The other is "No",
Both these little words
Make up the entire world to me.
O brooklet of my love,
Why are you so strange?
I'll surely not repeat it;
Tell me, o brooklet, does she love me?
Ungeduld
Impatience
I would carve it fondly in the bark of
trees,
I would chisel it eagerly into each
pebble,
I would like to sow it upon each fresh
flower-bed
With water-cress seeds, which it would
quickly disclose;
Upon each white piece of paper would I
write:
Yours is my heart and so shall it remain
forever.
I would like to raise a young starling,
Until he speaks to me in words pure and
clear,
Until he speaks to me with my mouth's
sound,
With my heart's full, warm urge;
Then he would sing brightly through
her windowpanes:
I would like to breath it into the
morning breezes,
I would like to whisper it through the
active grove;
Oh, if only it would shine from each
flower-star!
Would it only carry the scent to her
from near and far!
You waves, could you nothing but
wheels drive?
I thought, it must be visible in my eyes,
On my cheeks it must be seen that it
burns;
It must be readable on my mute lips,
Every breath would make it loudly
known to her,
And yet she notices nothing of all my
yearning feelings.
Mein!
Mine!
Little brook, let your gushing be!
Wheels, cease your roaring!
All you merry woodbirds,
Large and small,
End your melodies!
Through the grove,
Out and in,
Let only one song be heard today:
The beloved millermaid is mine!
Mine!
Spring, are all of those your flowers?
Sun, have you no brighter shine?
Ah, so I must be all alone
With my blissful word,
Incomprehensible to all of Creation!
Bois pais
Sombre Woods
Deep woods, increase your shade;
You could not be dark enough,
You could not conceal too well
My unhappy love.
I feel a despair
Whose horror is extreme,
I am to see no longer what I love,
I want no longer to bear the light of
day.
Rve Damour
Dream of Love
If there be a lovely lawn
Watered by the sky,
Where each new season
Blossoming flowers spring up,
Where lily, woodbine, and jasmine
Can be gathered liberally,
I would strew the way with them
For your feet to tread!
If there be a loving breast
Wherein honour dwells,