Raydo,, Rebecca

Woods, Jennifer

English

Old Dominion University

Diehn Center for the Performing Arts Chandler Recital Hall Tuesday, November 8, 2016                     7:30pm OLD DOMINION UNIVERSITY Department of Music          Student Recital  Jennifer Woods, soprano Rebecca Raydo, piano Program Allerseelen  Zueignung  Morgen!  Richard Strauss (1864-1949)    Airs chantés  Francis Poulenc  (1899-1963) Rejoice Greatly, O Daughter of Zion  from Messiah (1741) Air romantique  Air champêtre  Air grave  Air vif  ***** George Frideric Handel  (1685-1759) Vocalise-étude  Gabriel Fauré (1845-1924) La serenata   Sogno  Il pescatore canta  Francesco Paolo Tosti   (1846-1916)  Pisen Rusalky O Mesiku   from Rusalka (1900) Antonín Dvorák   (1841-1904)    Jennifer Woods is a student of Dr. Kelly Montgomery.  This recital is in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the      Bachelor of Music Performance degree. Program Gorgeous  from The Apple Tree  Sheldon Harnick  (b. 1924)   Jerry Bock  (1928-2010)  Leslie Bricusse  (b. 1931)   Anthony Newley  (1931-1999)  Pure Imagination  from Willy Wonka and   the Chocolate Factory Hermit Songs  Samuel Barber  (1910-1981) II.   Church Bell at Night V.   The Crucifixion  VII.  Promiscuity VIII. The Monk and His Cat IX.   The Praises of God X.   The Desire for Hermitige Allerseelen  Stell’ auf den Tisch die duftenden Reseden, Die letzten roten Astern trag’ herbei, Und lass uns wieder von der Liebe reden, Wie einst im Mai. Gib mir die Hand, dass ich sie heimlich drücke, Und wenn man’s sieht,  mir ist es einerlei, Gib mir nur einen deiner sůssen Blicke, Wie einst im Mai. Es blüht und duftet heut’  auf jedem Grabe Ein Tag im Jahr ist ja den Toten frei, Komm an mein Herz, dass ich dich wieder habe, Wie einst im Mai.  –Hermann von Gilm  All Souls’ Day  Put on the table the fragrant mignonettes, carry the last red astors here, and let us again talk of love like once in May. Give me your hand, that I may secretly press it, and if anyone sees it,  it makes no difference to me, give me only one of your sweet glances like once in May. Today it blossoms and  smells sweet on each grave one day in the year indeed the dead are free, come to my heart, that I have you again, like once in May.  –translation by Laura Ward and Richard Walters  Zueignung  Ja, du weisst es, teure Seele, Dass ich fern von dir mich quäle, Liebe macht die Herzen krank, Habe dank.  Einst hielt ich, der Freiheit Zecher, Hoch den Amethysten-Becher Und du segnetest den Trank, Habe dank.  Und beschworst darin die Bösen, Bis ich, was ich nie gewesen, Heilig, heilig an’s Herz dir sank, Habe dank.   –Hermann von Gilm Dedication  Yes, you know it, beloved soul, that I am tormented far from you, love makes the heart suffer, thanks to you.  Once I held, the one who delighted in freedom, high the amethyst cup and you blessed the drink, thanks to you.  And exorcised the evil ones therein, until I, as I had never been, holy, holy onto your heart I sank, thanks to you.  –translation by Laura Ward and Richard Walters  Morgen!  Und morgen wird die Sonne wieder scheinen Und auf dem Wege, den ich gehen werde, Wird uns, die Glucklichen, sie wieder einen Inmitten dieser sonnenatmenden Erde… Und ze dem Strand, dem weiten, wogenblauen Werden wir still und langsam niedersteigen, Stumm werden wir uns in die Augen schauen, Und auf uns sinkt des  Gluckes stummes Schweigen…        –John Henry Mackay Tomorrow  And tomorrow the sun will shine again and on the path, where I shall walk, it will again unite us, the happy ones in the midst of this sun-breathing earth… and to the wide, blue-waved shore, we will quietly and slowly descend, mute, we will gaze into each other’s eyes,  and on us sinks the  muted silence of happiness…         –translation by Laura Ward and Richard Walters  La serenata  Vola, O serenata: La mia diletta è sola, E, con la bella testa abbandonata, Posa tra le lenzuola: O serenata, Vola.  Splende Pura la luna; L’ale il silenzio stende, E dietro i veli dell’alcova bruna La lampada s’accende: Pura la luna Splende.  Vola, O serenata: La mia deletta è sola; Ma, sorridendo ancor mezzo assonnata, Torna fra le lenzuola: O serenata, Vola.  L’onda  Sogna sul lido, E’l vento su la fronda; E a’baci miei ricusa ancora un nido La mia signora bionda! Sogna sul lido L’onda.       –Giovanni Alfredo Cesareo Serenade  Fly, o serenade: my beloved is alone, and with her lovely head lying back, is resting between her sheets: o serenade, fly.  Shining white is the moon; silence spreads its wings, and behind the veils in the dark alcove a lamp is lit: the moon is shining white.  Fly, o serenade: my beloved is alone; but, smiling, still half asleep, has returned between her sheets: o serenade, fly.  The waves dream on the shore, the wind is amid the branches; my fair lady still refuses to shelter my kisses! On the shore the waves dream.       –translation by Caza Ricordi Sogno  Ho sognato che stavi a ginocchi Come un santo che prega il Signor, Mi guardavi nel fondo degl’occhi, Sfavillava il tuo sgardo d’amor.  Tu parlavi e la voce sommessa Mi chiedea dolcemente mercè. Solo un guardo che fosse promessa  Imploravi curavato al mio piè.  Io taceva, e coll’anima forte Il desio tentatore lottò. Ho provato il martirio e la morte, Pur mi vinsi e ti dissi di no.   Dream  I dreamed you were kneeling like a saint praying to the Lord. You looked deep into my eyes; your glance shone with love.  You spoke, and your quiet voice softly asked me for mercy. Only a look which might be a promise you begged for, as you knelt at my feet.  I kept silent, and keeping my spirit strong I battled with the tempting desire. I felt martyrdom and death, but I conquered myself and said no. Ma il tuo labbro sfiorò la mia faccia E la forza del cor mi tradì. Chiusi gli occhi, ti stesi le braccia, Ma sognavo,  e il bel sogno svanì!       –Lorenzo Stecchetti But your lips touched my face and the strength of my heart failed me. I closed my eyes, stretched out my arms to you, but I was dreaming,  and the lovely dream vanished!       –translation by Caza Ricordi Il pescatore canta  Hai le pupille così grandi e chiare che dentro a quelle si rispecchia amore: O bella, che cammini lungo il mare, sovra la spiaggia canta un pescatore! Un pescatore canta e se ne muore e tu cammini e non ti vuoi fermare: Sorge la luna bianca come un fiore e il pescatore canta e dorme il mare!  O bella, il cuore mio tutto era d’oro e l’ho smarrito in una dolce sera; v’erano tutte le sirene in coro ma chi la ritrovò, bella, non c’era! E il pescatore canta: Amore, Amore, m’hai preso il cuore e non ti vuoi fermare! Sorge la luna bianca come un fiore e il pescatore canta e dorme il mare!       –Riccardo Mazzola The fisherman sings  Your eyes are so large and clear that love is reflected within them: o my love, as you walk by the sea, a fisherman sings on the shore! A fisherman sings, his song dies away and you walk on, not wishing to stop: the moon rises, pale as a flower, and the fisherman sings and the sea slumbers!  O my love, I lost my precious heart one sweet evening; all the sirens were there together, but my love was not there to find it! And the fisherman sings: Love, love, you have taken my heart, and will not stop! The moon rises, pale as a flower, and the fisherman sings and the sea slumbers!       –translation by Caza Ricordi Air romantique  J’allais dans la campagne  avec le vent d’orage, Sous le pale mâtin,  sous les nuages bas; Un corbeau ténébreux escortait mon voyage, Et dans les flaques d’eau  retentissaient mes pas.  La foudre à l’horizon faisait  courir sa flamme Et l’Aquilon doublait  ses longs gémissements; Mais la tempête était trop faible pour mon âme, Qui couvrait le tonnerre avec ses battements.  De la dépouille d’or du  frêne et de l’érable L’Automne composait son éclatant butin, Et le corbeau toujours, d’un vol inexorable, M’accompagnait sans rien  changer à mon destin.            –Jean Moréas Romantic song  I walked the countryside  under the oncoming storm, In the pale morning light,  under low hanging clouds; A sinister raven was my only company, And my feet splashed through  the puddles of water.  At the horizon the lightning  arrowed its fire downward And the north wind doubled  his drawn-out groaning; But the storm was too weak for my soul, Who drowns out the thunder with its beats.  The golden glowing foliage of  the ash and the acorn Is relished pretty to the autumn, And still the raven, with unrelenting persistence Keeps me company without  changing my destiny.            –translation by Linda Godry  Air champêtre  Belle source, belle source, Je veux me rappeler sans cesse, Qu’un jour, guide par l’amitié Ravi, j’ai comtemplé ton visage, ô dèesse,  Perdu sous la mou, sous la mousse à moitié.  Que n’est-il demeuré, cet ami que je pleure, O nymphe, à ton culte attaché, Pour se mêler encore au soffle qui t’effleure, Et répondre à ton flot cache?       –Jean Moréas Country song  Beautiful spring, beautiful spring, I will never forget how I, led by friendship, Was enthralled by your face, oh goddess,  Lost in sultriness, half hidden under moss.  Where is he now, the friend I mourn, Oh nymph, attached to your cult, I join the breeze that caresses you, And answer your secret brook?       –translation by Linda Godry  Air grave  Ah! fuyez à present, Malheureuses pensées! O! colère, o! remords! Souvenirs qui m’avez Les deux tempes presses, De l’étreinte des morts.  Sentier de mousse pleins, Vaporeuses fontaines, Grottes profondes, voix Des oiseaux et du vent Lumières incertaines Des sauvages sous-bois, Insectes animaux, Beauté future, Ne me repousse pas, Ô divine nature Je suis ton suppliant.  Ah! fuyez à present,  Colère, remords!       –Jean Moréas Somber song  Ah! Away with you, you morose thoughts! Oh! Rage, oh! remorse! Memories that have Made my head ache With the full force of the dead.  Paths covered with moss, Frothy fountains, Deep caves, the voices Of the birds and the wind. Gloomy twilight In the wild underbrush, Insects, animals, Future beauty, Don’t reject me, Oh, heavenly nature, I worship you.  Ah! Away with you, Rage, remorse!       –translation by Linda Godry  Air vif  Le trésor du verger  et le jardin en fête, Les fleurs des champs,  des bois, eclatent de Plaisir, Hélas! hélas! Et sur leur tête  le vent enfle sa voix. Mais toi noble ocean que  l’assaut des tormentes Ne saurait ravager Certes plus dignement,  lorsque tu te lamentes, Tu te prends à songer.       –Jean Moréas Lively song  What splendor, the blossoming fruit trees  and the garden are in a festive mood, The wild flowers,  the woods, rejoice. Beware! Beware! The wind’s  voice is already rising above their heads. But you noble ocean, who by the  onslaught of the gales  will hardly be touched Certainly with more dignity,  even if complaining, You will withdraw in contemplation.       –translation by Linda Godry Pisen Rusalky O Mesiku  Mesiku na nebi hlubokem  Svetlo tvé daleko vidi, Po svete bloudis sirokém, Divas se v pribytky lidi.  Mesicku, postuj chvili  reckni mi, kde je muj mily  Rekni mu, stribmy mesicku,  me ze jej objima rame,  aby si alespon chvilicku  vzpomenul ve sneni na mne.  Zasvet mu do daleka,  rekni mu, rekni kdo tu nan ceka!  O mneli duse lidska sni, at'se tou vzpominkou vzbudi! Mesicku, nezhasni, nezhasni!        –Jaroslav Kvapil Song to the Moon  O moon high up in the deep, deep sky,  Your light sees far away regions, You travel round the wide, Wide world peering into human dwellings  O moon, stand still for a moment, Tell me, ah, tell me where is my lover!  Tell him, please, silvery moon in the sky That I am hugging him firmly, That he should for at least a while Remember his dreams!  Light up his far away place, Tell him, ah, tell him who is here waiting!  If he is dreaming about me, May this remembrance waken him! O moon, don’t disappear, disappear!        –translation by Jules Brunelle 

Student Recital: Jennifer Woods, Soprano

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Student Recital: Jennifer Woods, Soprano

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