University of Florida Performing Arts

presents

Julia Bullock, SopranoFrom Young Concert Artists

Saturday, January 10, 2015, 7:30 p.m.University Auditorium

Sponsored by

Julia Bullock, sopranoRenate Rohlfing, piano

ProgramFrom Chants de terre et de ciel Olivier Messiaen

Résurrection

Dolce cominciamento Luciano Berio Stabat Mater (Mi lagnerò) Gioacchino Rossini La donna ideale Luciano BerioSorzico (Mi lagnerò) Gioacchino RossiniBallo Luciano BerioMétamorphoses Francis Poulenc

Reine des muettesC’est ainsi que tu esPaganini

From Chants de terre et de ciel Olivier Messiaen Bail avec Mi

From HarawiKatchikatchi les étoiles L’amour de Piroutcha

Intermission

Hommage à Joséphine Baker Arrangements by Jeremy Siskind Mon coeur est un oiseau des îles Vincent ScottoLa conga blicoti Armando Oréfiche Madiana Mairiotte Almaby Dis-moi Joséphine Léo Lelièvre J’ai deux amours Vincent ScottoSi j’étais blanche Léo Lelièvre

From Cinco canciones negras Xavier MontsalvatgePunto de HabaneraChévereCanción de cuna para dormir a un negrito

Brown Baby Oscar Brown, Jr.Arranged by Jeremy Siskind

I Wish I Knew How It Feels to be Free Billy TaylorArranged by Jeremy Siskind

Little David Harry T. BurleighArranged by Jeremy Siskind

Program NotesFrom Chants de terre et de cielRésurrection (pour le jour de Pâques) (“For Easter Day”)Olivier Messiaen (Born in Avignon, France, on December 10, 1908; died in Clichy, near Paris, on April 27, 1992)At the core of every note of Messiaen’s remarkable creations lie his deep and abiding faith in God and His divine Son, Jesus. All his life he traveled widely and absorbed deeply, but every influence, it seemed, was filtered through his own religious fervor. The Japanese haiku that influenced his astonishing rhythmic complexities were, he felt, phenomena that rose from Christian modes; the Utah landscapes of Bryce Canyon had their basis for him in the Biblical Garden of Eden; the visually perceived colors he experienced when he heard certain chords—a neurological function of the brain known as synæsthesia—were God’s gift to his compositional process; his youthful love for the fairy-tale element in Shakespeare prefigured his later expressions of Roman Catholic liturgy. When composing, he was not interested in depicting theological matters such as sin; for him the crowning achievement of life was joy, utter joy and the divine love that redemption proved beyond a doubt. The ecstasy that is everywhere present in his finest works is particularly present in the sixth and final song of the cycle, titled ”Résurrection,” which blends an intoxicating pageant of ravishing “alleluias” by the soprano voice, with burnishings of triumphant chords in the fiercely difficult piano part. I have not yet spoken of his second marriage, to Yvonne Loriod, a spectacular pianist and former student of his, after Claire’s death in 1959. It was a union as happy as his first, though without the imminent specter of Claire’s wretched health, and of almost equal duration; Yvonne outlived her husband by eighteen years, dying in 2001. Once again, in Yvonne’s contribution to his works Messiaen beheld the hand of God. About the quantity of dazzlingly difficult piano music that flowed from his pen like freshets of water after a spring thaw, he remarked in an interview that he always had Yvonne’s amazing pianism in mind as he composed: “I am able to allow myself the greatest eccentricities because to Yvonne nothing is impossible.” In sum, Messiaen lived by and for his life-long credo—in his own words, “to be a musician is to be a believer, dazzled by the infinity of God.”

From Quattro canzoni popolariDolce cominciamento La donna ideale Ballo Luciano Berio (Born in Oneglia, now part of Imperia in Italy, on October 24, 1925; died in Rome on May 27, 2003)Berio was always delighted to be working with folksong, or, as he himself said, “I am caught by the thrill of discovery; I keep trying to create a unity between folk music and our own,” this despite the fact that his harmonic language is often “quirkily chaotic,” to use another phrase of his. The three songs, Dolce cominciamento (“Sweet Beginning”), La donna ideale (“The Ideal Woman”), and Ballo (“A Dance”) date from his student days in Milan. Sixteen years later, Mills College, in Oakland, California, commissioned him for a larger work based on folksong, so Berio composed nine additional pieces, and the result was given its premiere under his baton at Mills in 1964, with the gifted American soprano Cathy Beberian, whom he had married in the meantime, (though their union was in its final years—not, obviously, for musical difficulties, since the two continued to perform together with great success.)

All the Berio songs we hear this evening are light-hearted in spite of themselves. In “Sweet Beginning” the two parts, one the soprano, the other the piano, seem to be playing a kind of musical leapfrog with each other until the final measures when each seems to have settled down. In “The Ideal Woman,” a young man is advised to question four things as he searches for a suitable marriage partner: the girl’s family, her manners, her figure, and her fortune. If those are all satisfactory, there’s nothing to worry about! And in “The Ball,” the final song of the three, the singer laments that those who love the most are the looniest, that the greater the love is, the more doomed to idiocy, all the time ornamenting the song with little yelps of “la, la, la” as if to prove his point.

From Quattro canzoni popolariSorzico (“Mi lagnerò tacendo”) (“I complain but in silence”)Stabat Mater Gioacchino Rossini (Born in Pesaro, Italy, on February 29, 1892; died in Paris on November 13, 1868; but his remains were moved to the Basilica of Santa Croce in Florence, Italy, in 1887, at the request of the Italian government)Everyone knows, surely, how one of the greatest opera composers the world has ever known suddenly stopped writing operas at all. It was 1829, and Rossini was living for the most part in Paris; he was also 39 years old and he had completed 38 operas and felt it was high time for a change, so he cut off all aspects of his former life with the precision, almost, of a skilled surgeon, took up both cooking and eating on a prodigious scale, and remarried after the death of his much-loved first wife, sua prima donna Isabella Colbran, in 1845. It may have been this second wife, also an excellent singer with professional training named Olympe Pélissier, who little by little induced her husband to take up his pen again. In any case he began to compose small pieces, mostly piano solos, but occasionally choral works and some wittily whimsical songs that Olympe would occasionally trot out as entertainment for their musical guests.Most of these pieces were collected into 14 volumes that Rossini called Péchés de vieillesse (“Sins of Old Age”). The “sins” showed, among other things, that Rossini had lost not a scintilla of his ease in composition nor his own pianistic skills—his virtuosity had been praised by Franz Liszt and Camille Saint-Saëns, who were themselves among the reigning wonders of that age.These engaging ditties enlivening Rossini’s “Sins” are a group that he collected into a special Album de Château containing among other rarities six completely separate and varied settings of a single text from Pietro Metastasio’s libretto for Siroe, beginning “I shall complain, but in silence,” the lady, remains anything but silent. However, the two miniature variations sung this evening (each one being no longer than twelve measures of music) are not from this Album, but were found only as handwritten transcriptions. This astonishing set of variations on a theme, so to speak, are called Scorzici, a virtually obsolete word meaning approximately “afflictions,” which might necessarily be expected to include a bit of caterwauling, though Rossini’s genius almost makes such vocal complaint sound almost beguiling. The miniature Stabat Mater offers no relation to his larger orchestral/vocal work, but the setting offers a sorrowful and plaintive recitation; contrasted with the more pithy and spirited setting Zorsico, a Basque dane in 5/8 time.

Métamorphoses Reine des muettesC’est ainsi que tu esPaganiniFrancis Poulenc (1899-1963)Parisian Francis Poulenc seemed destined to join the family pharmaceutical manufacturing business. Though he took piano lessons from his mother Jenny, he was forbidden from taking “formal” musical or conservatory training. The untimely death of both of his parents – while Poulenc was still in his teens – changed all that. A family friend became his friend and protector after his parents’ death and introduced him to pianist Ricardo Viñes, who became the young orphan’s music teacher and mentor. Paris was alive with the energy of the avant garde at the time and Poulenc landed in the thick of it. In 1920, Poulenc became a founding member of a group of groundbreaking French composers, Le Six, who held concerts and performances of new music. These concerts were frequented by an audience dedicated to innovation and experimentation, including painter Pablo Picasso, artist-writer-provocateur Jean Cocteau, and ballet impresario Serge Diaghilev, among many others It was a heady mix, and helped set the young Poulenc on his lifelong course. The three songs titled Métamorphoses (1943), a setting of poems by Louise Lévêque de Vilmorin (1902-72), are typical of Poulenc’s mature style, approachable, yet whimsical and individual. Reine de mouettes (Queen of the Seagulls) is an homage to the “blushing rose” of youth. C’est ainsi que tu es (It is thus that you are) is both lyrical and melancholy. The tour de force is Paganini, Vilmorin’s love song to the violin and one of its most celebrated virtuosi, Niccolò Paganini.— Program note by Dave Kopplin

From Chants de terre et de ciel (“Songs of Earth and Heaven”)Bail avec Mi (pour ma femme) (“Agreement with ‘Mi,’ for my wife”) Olivier Messiaen (Born in Avignon, France, on December 10, 1908; died in Clichy, near Paris, on April 27, 1992)Messiaen met his wife-to-be, Claire-Louise Delbos, when they were both promising students at the Conservatoire in Paris, his intent on becoming a pianist and composer, she hoping to be a concert violinist and also a composer. Claire was the daughter of a famous philosopher, Victor Delbos, who taught at the Sorbonne. The two young people began playing recitals together in the early 1930s, ultimately marrying on June 22, 1932. Messiaen soon began composing music addressed to “Mi,” his affectionate nickname for her, such as Poèmes pour Mi, a song-cycle about the new couple’s happiness, and earlier, in 1933, a Fantaisie for violin and piano which may never have had a public performance in their lifetimes; it was inadvertently mislaid and not published until 2007.Claire had herself been a gifted composer. One of her early works, much praised by her husband, was a cycle of songs to poems by Olivier’s mother, Cécile Sauvage. In many ways Claire’s future looked as bright as her husband’s, but early in her marriage she suffered a series of miscarriages that ultimately proved disastrous, though a healthy son, Pascal, was born in 1937, whereupon Messiaen produced another celebratory song cycle, Chants de terre et de ciel (“Songs from Earth and Heaven”), about the blissful serenity produced by the presence of a baby boy in their close-knit family. But a few years later, about the time World War II ended, Claire underwent corrective surgery, which, alas, resulted in her loss of memory and then gradually declining health, as one bodily organ after another betrayed her. She spent her last years in a sanatorium and died in 1959 at the age of 56.The voice and the piano in this six-part cycle of Earth and Heaven are equal partners, each contributing, in Baudelaire’s well-known phrase, “à la force et à la beauté et, je dois avouer, au courage de l’autre” ([each contributing] “to the energy, the beauty and, let it be said, to the courage of the other”).

From Harawi (Chant d’amour et de la mort)Katchikatchi les étoiles L’amour de PiroutchaOlivier Messiaen Composed in 1945, Harawi is the first part of Messiaen’s ‘Tristan’ Trilogy, preceding the Turangalila Symphony and the Cinq Rechants (both completed in 1948). The song cycle takes its name from the “Harawi,” an ultra-romantic genre of Andean music which often ends with the death of two lovers, thus providing a vehicle for the composer’s exploration of the theme of love and death central to the myth of Tristan and Isolde, explicitly stated in Messiaen’s subtitle, “Chant d’amour et de mort” (Song of love and death). The idea of love and death obviously had a more personal significance to him than for Wagner; Claire had begun to suffer illness in the years just preceding Harawi. Though the work bears no explicit dedication to her, it is hardly possible that her condition would not have been at the forefront of her husband’s mind while composing the songs. The texts of Harawi are once again Messiaen’s own—almost all the poems of his songs follow the example of Richard Wagner, who wrote the librettos for each of his late operas. Messiaen’s texts are highly symbolic, and in addition to French words he occasionally uses vocabulary from the Peruvian tribe Quechua, not as much for its semantic meaning as for its timbral qualities; i.e., the onomatopoeic sounds that represent the ankle bells worn by Peruvian-Indian dancers.

Hommage à Joséphine BakerArrangements by Jeremy Siskind (1986– )When the African-American singer and dancer Josephine Baker sashayed out onto the stage of the Théâtre des Champs-Élysées in Paris on the evening of October 2, 1925, the curtains parted on the highly touted La Revue Nègre, with a shiny new star destined to become one of the most brilliant performers in the history of entertainment, Miss Josephine Baker. In a year or two she had achieved the highest salary of any singer in France, had her picture taken more often than even Gloria Swanson or Mary Pickford, and had accumulated a zoo of exotic pets including a diamond-collared cheetah named Chiquita who often appeared with her (and whose unplanned fall into the orchestra pit one evening created a major sensation . . . and further swelled box office receipts for weeks to come); a reputation for exuberant sexuality and revealing costumes that scandalized even Paris. (Miss Baker saw her notoriety slightly differently: she told a reporter, “I wasn’t really naked. I simply didn’t have any clothes on.” She felt somewhat the same way about her much-alluded-to physical beauty, saying to the same reporter, “It’s all in the luck of the draw. I was born with good legs. As for the rest . . . beautiful? No. Amusing, yes.”)She was given to wearing “barely-there” costumes, among them her famous “banana” skirt, comprising in its entirety 16 artificial bananas. And there was another fashioned entirely of white feathers. Not to mention her “no-holds-barred” dance routines, about which she said, “I was always crazed by the music. Even my teeth and eyes burned with fever. Each time I leaped I seemed to touch the sky, and when I regained earth it seemed to be mine alone.” A bit later, she remarked to another reporter who questioned her about her dedication to her craft, “Is that what they to call a ‘vocation,’ what you do with joy, as if you had fire in your heart and the devil in your body?” About her singing there was never a question. To the reigning British chanteuse Shirley Bassey, Baker went from “une petite danseuse,” with a decent voice, to “la grande diva magnifique,” adding, “In all my life I have never seen, and probably never shall see again, such a spectacular singer and performer.”Ernest Hemingway called her “the most sensational woman anyone has ever seen,”

and with advance praise like that she had no trouble attracting a cadre of admirers that included persons of such glittering repute as Langston Hughes, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Pablo Picasso, and Christian Dior, not to mention a passionate group of perhaps 1500 gentlemen who individually proposed marriage, about at least one of whom—Joe Alex, a fine baritone—she rhapsodized, “He was my cream, and I was his coffee. And when you poured us together, it was something.” She did of course marry several of the “gentlemen,” such as the “cute” American Willie Baker, whose surname she adopted professionally when her career had reached its height, and French-Jewish Jean Lion, thus achieving French citizenship for herself, and, finally, Jo Bouillon, who helped her rear the dozen or so children whom she chose to form into a family so as to illustrate that differing ethnicities could live together in simpatico amity. Finally there was Robert Brady, with whom she sneaked into a wayside chapel in Acapulco in September of 1973 to exchange marriage vows—which rite, because no clergy was present, could not be a binding sacrament and had to remain pretty much a secret forever, though Josephine was steadfastly devoted to Brady for the all-too brief remainder of her life.She had been born Freda Josephine McDonald on June 3, 1906, in Saint Louis, Missouri—coincidentally the birthplace of Julia Bullock as well—where Freda, always on the fringes of poverty in her youth, cleaned houses and baby-sat for wealthy white women who warned her, “Be sure you don’t kiss the baby.” Such were the perils in those days. One can imagine how eager she was, despite small successes in America, to embark for faraway Paris. “One day I realized,” she wrote later, “that I was living in a country where I was afraid to be black. It was a country only for white people. Not black people. So I left. I felt I had been suffocated in the United States. Now, in Paris, I felt liberated.”And thus began one of the most magical success stories in the realm of entertainment history. It is a story that has long fascinated Julia Bullock, “I had been dreaming about a set of Josephine Baker songs for at least six years, when I went to a concert a couple of months ago played by Jeremy Siskind at the Cornelia Café in New York’s West Village, and I thought to myself, ‘This, this is the guy, exactly the right person to make arrangements of the Baker songs for me, with all that brilliant jazz pianism of his, and that ingenious musical sensitivity . . . not to mention that I had known him from my time at Eastman.” When Jeremy agreed, Julia’s dream was on its way to becoming reality . . .

Mon coeur est un oiseau des îles (My heart is an island bird)Vincent Scotto (Born in Marseilles on April 21, 1874; died in Paris on November 15, 1952)

La conga blicoti Armando Oréfiche (Born in Havana on April 1, 1911; died on Las Palmas, Canary Islands in 2000)

Madiana Mairiotte Almaby

Dis-moi, Joséphine Léo Lelièvre (Born on April 1,1872 in Rheims; died in Paris on March 31, 1956)

J’ai deux amours Vincent Scotto

Si j’étais blanche (If I Were White)Lép Lelièvre

Vincent Scotto started his career in his native Marseilles as early as 1906 but soon moved to Paris, where he met and became friends with novelist-playwright-cinematographer Marcel Pagnol, whose many, many films include the two-part Manon of the Spring in 1952. Scotto wrote music for several of these Pagnol achievements, as well as for other film-makers, sometimes acting in them as well. His “Mon cœur est un oiseau des îles was a Baker favorite and she recorded it several times, the most recent of which was chosen for a 2011 album of songs ranging from 1930 to 1957. “La conga blicotí” is by Armando Oréfiche, a Cuban composer and pianist. He recorded this song with Josephine Baker, a recording that was used in a brilliantly nostalgic scene of Woody Allen’s Midnight in Paris.Another Scotto song, J’ai deux amours, in a performance by Baker herself, was used in a film by Alain Resnais, On Conaîtt la Chanson, released in1997.

From Cinco canciónes negras (Five Black Songs)Punto de Habanera, Siglo XIII Chévere Canción de cuna para dormir a un negritoXavier Montsalvatge (Born in Girona, Spain on March 22, 1912; died in Barcelona on May 7, 2002) Montsalvatge was born in the Spanish town of Girona but spent most of his life in nearby Barcelona, becoming one of its most influential citizens.Montsalvatge studied violin and composition at the Barcelona Conservatorio but joined the army at the time of the Spanish Civil War, after which he took a job as music critic for a local newspaper, Destino, eventually being offered the editorship, while continuing to write his own superb though infrequently heard music.His most significant works came about after he discovered the West Indian music of the Antilles, which he described as “originally Spanish, exported overseas, and then re-imported to our country as a evocative kind of musical lyricism.”Such a work is the Cinco canciónes negras, five settings of Catalan poets, among them Néstor Luján, Nicolás Gouillén and Idefonso Pereda Valdés. Punto de Habanera was inspired by the humor of the West Indies, over which Montsalvatge drapes only the gauziest veil of Spanish musical style. In Luján’s light-hearted poem about a “ripe” young maiden “adrift” in a billowing white hoop skirt being ogled by sailors, Montsalvatge adds deft little dissonances in the piano, gently and playfully, with all the seriousness of a puff of smoke.Guillén’s Chévere concerns a young black worker who “wields a flashing knife” and becomes himself “a blade,” perhaps borrowing a metaphor from his countryman Federico García Lorca’s tango poems, slicing at shadows and moonlight, attempting unsuccessfully to sing, before going “straight after his woman.” Montsalvatge’s music does not mirror the violent youngster of the poem, but it is dark and moody, perhaps suggesting an unpleasant evening for the girl.The mother who is attempting to sing her little boy to sleep in Valdés’ poem also suggests slighty sinister overtones: if her baby will just go to sleep, he will no longer be a slave forever; if he gets enough rest, his master may make him a groom and buy him a fancy uniform. The music is a bit unsettling, a polytonal reminder that this mother is not singing a conventional lullaby, all innocence and maternal sweetness.

Brown BabyOscar Brown, Jr. (Born in Chicago on October 10, 1926; died there on May 29, 2005)Arranged by Jeremy Siskind Born and raised on the south side of Chicago, Brown’s father (Oscar Brown, Sr.) expected his son to follow in his footsteps and become a successful and wealthy lawyer. Eventually

success did come to young Oscar, but first he had to serve his apprenticeship in alternative careers like advertising and the army. But when Mahalia Jackson recorded one of his songs, he was able at last to focus on a career in music.His first album, Sin and Soul, was released in 1960, and on its cover were rave reviews (already!) by jazz celebrities such as Nat Hentoff, Steve Allen, Dorothy Kilgallen, Max Roach and Nina Simone, the last-named of whom was later to record a sensational performance of Brown’s newest song, Brown Baby.

I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel to be FreeBilly Taylor (Born in Greenville, North Carolina, on July 24, 1921; died in New York City on December 28, 2010); arranged by Jeremy SiskindBritish-born jazz critic Leonard Feather, author of several encyclopedic books on Billy Taylor, gave him the indisputable title of “the world’s foremost spokesman for jazz.”Ben Ratliff, in The New York Times, called him “a living refutation of the stereotype of jazz musicians as unschooled, unsophisticated and inarticulate, an image that was prevalent when he began his career in the 1940s, and that he did as much as any other musician to erase.” A pianist with an impeccable technique and an elegant style, Dr. Taylor worked with some of the most celebrated names in jazz, among them Charlie Parker, Dizzy Gillespie, Miles Davis and Herbie Mann.As a boy, he made his first public performance on the piano at age 13, and was paid one dollar. He moved to New York, where he fell under the salutary influence of Art Tatum, who remained his mentor for many years.In 1952, Taylor composed I Wish I Knew How It Would Feel To Be Free, which reached new popularity with the civil rights movement in the 1960s, and Nina Simone’s recording on her 1967 album, Silk and Soul. In 1994, he was named the artistic director for jazz at the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts in Washington, D.C.; before that he had started The Jazz Foundation to save the homes and lives of elderly jazz and blues musicians.

Little David (Play on Your Harp)Harry T. Burleigh (Born in Erie, Pennsylvania, on December 2, 1866; died in New York City on September 12, 1949); arranged by Jeremy SiskindFrances MacDowell, mother of the famous American composer Edwin MacDowell, helped get a scholarship for the young Henry Burleigh (now referred to as “Harry Burleigh”) to New York’s National Conservatory, where he played double bass in the school orchestra and assisted the renowned Antonin Dvorák, who had recently been appointed director of the institution. Not only did Dvorák introduce Harry to Czech music, but equally importantly, Harry introduced Dvorák to American music, specifically Black-American music. Burleigh had been doing odd jobs for Mrs. MacDowell, and was sweeping the conservatory’s floors, too, and Dvorák often heard him singing spirituals as he worked, so he asked the boy to sing for him, too. This may have been the way the pseudo-spiritual “Deep River” found its way into Dvorák’s “New World” Symphony (which was premiered in Carnegie Hall in 1893, to wild cheering). Race reared its ugly head in Burleigh’s life. With his splendid baritone voice, he was encouraged to apply for a job as soloist in the choir of St. George’s Episcopal Church. Members of this all-white congregation were appalled. But J.P. Morgan cast the deciding vote to hire him, and he spent a long career in the choir loft, making many friends.In the late 1890s, he began to publish his own songs and his arrangements of Negro spirituals. Soon they were being sung in concert by such internationally renowned artists

as John MacCormack. So popular did Burleigh’s arrangements become that few vocal artists gave recitals without several of them on their program. The prestigious firm of G. Ricordi, publisher of Giacomo Puccini’s operas, engaged Burleigh as an editor in 1910.Little David, Play on Your Harp, based on the Biblical story of David strumming before King Saul, is not, of course, an original Burleigh composition, having existed as a Sunday School favorite since the mid-1860s, but it was Burleigh’s musical arrangement that made it especially popular. — Program annotations, save for those concerning Mr. Hertzberg’s music, written by Clair W. Van

Ausdall and affectionately dedicated to Susan Wadsworth and Young Concert Artists, Inc.

Text and TranslationsFrom Chants de terre et de ciel (1938)Résurrection (pour le jour de Pâques)Olivier MessiaenAlleluia, alleulia. Il est le premier, le Seigneur Jésus,Des morts il est le premierné.Sept étoiles d’amour au transpercé, revêtez

votre habit de clarté. “Je suis ressuscité, je suis ressuscité.

Je chante: pour toi, mon Père, pour toi, mon Dieu, alleluia.

De mort à vie je passe.” Un ange. Sur la pierre il s’est posé.Parfum, porte, perle, azymes de la Vérité.Alleluia, alleluia.Nous l’avons touché, nous l’avons vu. De nos mains nous l’avons touché.Un seul fleuve de vie dans son côté, revêtez

votre habit de clarté. “Je suis ressuscité, je suis ressuscité.

Je monte: vers toi, mon Père, vers toi, mon Dieu, alleluia.

De terre à ciel je passe.” Du pain. Il le rompt et leurs yeux sont

dessillés. Parfum, porte, perle, lavez-vous de la Vérité.

From Songs of earth and heavenResurrection (for Easter Day)

Alleluia, alleluia.He is the first, the Lord Jesus,Of the dead, he is the first-born.Seven stars of love to the transfixed, vest in

your habit* of clarity. “I am risen, I am risen.I sing: for you, my Father, for you, my God,

alleluia.From death to life I pass.”An angel. On the stone he is posed.Perfume, portal, pearl, unleavened bread of

the Truth.Alleluia, alleluia. We have touched him, we have seen him.From our hands we have touched him.A single river of life in his side, vest in your

habit* of clarity. “I am risen, I am risen.I climb: towards you, my Father, towards you,

my God, alleluia. From earth of heaven I pass.”

Of the bread. He breaks it and their eyes are opened.

Perfume, portal, pearl, wash yourselves in the Truth.

* habit — a garment; as opposed to/or maybe in addition to: a ritualized practice, in this context

From Quattro canzoni popolari Dolce cominciamentoLuciano BerioDolce cominciamento canto per la più finache sia al mio parimento d’Argni’infino a Messinacio è la più avvenente. Oh stella rilucente che levi a la maitina quando m’appare avante li suoi dolzi sembiantim’incendon la corina.

Sweet beginning

Sweet beginning, I singfor the finest onewho in my opinion, may bethe most gorgeous from Argni until Messina.Oh shining star,that rises in the morning,when she appears in front of me,her sweet countenance, inflames my heart.

Stabat Mater/Mi lagneròGioacchino RossiniText: Pietro Metastasio Mi lagnerò tacendo della mia sorte amara;ma ch’io non t’ami, o cara, non lo sperar da me.Crudel’... no...

In silence I will complainof my bitter fate;but for me not to love you, oh dear one,do not expect that from me.Cruel one... no...

From Quattro canzoni popolariLa donna idealeLuciano BerioL’ómo chi mojer vor piarde quatro cosse de spiarla primiera è com’ èl è nal’altra è se l’è ben accostumal’altra è como el è formala quarta è de quanto el è dotase queste cosse ghe comprendia lo nome de Dio la prendi.

The Ideal Woman

If a man wants a woman,there are four things to askthe first is if she’s well-bredanother is if she’s well-manneredanother is if she’s well-shapedthe fourth is if she has a good dowryif comprehensively she’s got it allin God’s name take her.

Sorzico/Mi lagnerò tacendoGioacchino RossiniText: Pietro Metastasio Mi lagnerò tacendo della mia sorte amara;ma ch’io non t’ami, o cara, non lo sperar da me.Crudel’... no...

In silence I will complainof my bitter fate;but for me not to love you, oh dear one,do not expect that from me.Cruel one... no...

From Quattro canzoni popolariBalloLuciano BerioLa ra la ra la ra li...Amor fa disciare li più saggie chi più l’ama meno ha in sè misurapiù folle è quello che più s’innamoraLa ra la ra la ra li...Amor non cura di fare suoi dannaggico li suoi raggi mette tal calurache non puo raffreddare per freddura.

Dance

La ra la ra la ra li...Love drives out reason from the most wiseAnd he who loves most has the least

judgmentThe most foolish is the one who’s most in

love.La ra la ra la ra li...Love doesn’t care about the harm he does,His rays generate such a feverthat not even the cold can cool it.

From Métamorphoses Reine des muettesC’est ainsi que tu esPaganiniFrancis PoulencText: Louise de Vilmorin

Reine des mouettesReine des mouettes, mon orpheline,Je t’ai vue rose, je m’en souviens,Sous les brumes mousselinesDe ton deuil ancien.Rose d’aimer le baiser qui chagrineTu te laissais accorder à mes mainsSous les brumes mousselinesVoile de nos liens.Rougis, rougis, mon baiser te devineMouette prise aux nœuds des grands

chemins.Reine des mouettes, mon orpheline,Tu étais rose accordée à mes mainsRose sous les mousselinesEt je m’en souviens.

Queen of the SeagullsQueen of seagulls, my little orphan,I saw you pink, I recall,Beneath the muslin mistsOf your ancient sorrow. Pink from loving the kiss which provokesYou surrendered to my handsUnder the muslin mistsVeil of our bond.Blush, blush, my kiss finds you outSeagull caught where great paths meet.

Queen of seagulls, my little orphan,You were pink, surrendered to my hands,Pink under the muslinAnd I recall the moment.

C’est ainsi que tu esTa chair, d’âme mêlée,Chevelure emmêlée,Ton pied courant le temps,Ton ombre qui s’étendEt murmure à ma tempe.Voilà, c’est ton portrait,C’est ainsi que tu es,Et je veux te l’écrirePour que la nuit venue,Tu puisses croire et dire,Que je t’ai bien connue.

That is how you areYour flesh, mingled with soul,Your tangled hair,Your feet pursuing time,Your shadow which stretchesAnd murmurs at my temple.There, that is your portrait,That is how you are,And I want to write it down for you,So that when night comes, You may believe and say,That I knew you well.

PaganiniViolon hippocampe et sirèneBerceau des cœurs cœur et berceauLarmes de Marie MadeleineSoupire d’une Reine ÉchoViolon orgueil des mains légèresDépart à cheval sur les eauxAmour chevauchant le mystèreVoleur en priére OiseuxViolon femme morganatiqueChat botté courant la forêtPuits des vérités lunatiquesConfession publique Corset

PaganiniViolin sea-horse and siren,Cradle of hearts heart and cradleTears of Mary Magdalene Sigh of a queen EchoViolin pride of delicate handsDeparture on horseback over the watersLove astride the mysteryThief in prayer BirdsViolin morganatic* wifePuss-in-Boots ranging the forestWell of lunatic truthsPublic confession Corset

Violon alcool de l’âme en peinePréférence muscle du soirÉpaules des saisons soudainesFeuille de chêne MiroirViolon chevalier du silenceJouet évadé du bonheurPointrine des mille présencesBateau de plaisance Chasseur.

Violin alcohol of the pained soulPreference muscle of the eveningShoulders of sudden seasonsLeaf of oak MirrorViolin knight of silenceToy evaded from happinessBreast of a thousand presencesBoat of pleasure Hunter. * morganatic: denoting a marriage in which neither

the spouse of lower rank nor any children have any claim to the possessions or title of the spouse of higher rank

From Chants de terre et de ciel (1938)Bail avec Mi (pour ma femme)Olivier MessiaenTon œil de terre, mon œil de terre, nos mains

de terre,Pour tisser l’atmostphère, la montagne de

l’atmosphère.Étoile de silence à mon cœur de terre, à mes

lèvres de terre.Petite boule de soleil complémentaire à ma

terre. Le bail, doux compagnon de mon épaule

amère.

From Songs of earth and heavenBond* with Mi** (for my wife)

Your earthly eye, my earthly eye, our earthly hands,

To weave the atmosphere, the mountain of the atmosphere.

Star of silence at my earthly heart, at my earthly lips.

Little ball of sun complimentary to my earth.The bond, sweet companion of my bitter

shoulder.

*The prosaic word bail means ‘lease’ and refers, in a very material and earthly way, to a temporary contract. With marriage seen as something provisional and impermanent, I offer in my translation, ‘bond’

**Mi is the nickname Messiaen gave to his first wife, Claire Delbos

From Harawi, chants d’amour et de mort (1946)*Katchikatchi les étoilesL’amour de PiroutchaOlivier Messiaen

Katchikatchi les étoilesKatchikatchi les étoiles,faites-les sauter, Katchikatchi les étoiles, faites-les danser. Katchikatchi les atomes, faites-les sauter, Katchikatchi les atomes, faites-les danser.

From Harawi, Songs of love and death

Katchikatchi the starsKatchikatchi the stars,make them leap, Katchikatchi the stars, make them dance. Katchikatchi the atoms, make them leap, Katchikatchi the atoms, make them dance.

Les nébuleuses spirales, mains de mes cheveux. Les électrons, fourmis, flèches, le silence en deux. Alpha du Centaure, Bételgeuse, Aldébaran, Dilatez l’espace arc-en-ciel tapageur du temps, Rire ionisé, fureur d’horloge au meurtre absent, Coupez ma tête, son chiffre roule dans le sang! Tou, ahi! mané, mani, Tou, ahi! mané, mani.ORoule dans le sang, roule dans le sang, roule dans le sang, roule dans le sang! Ahi!

* Harawi: Quechua is the indigenous Indian language of Peru. The name, Harawi, is a Quechua word referring to a genus of love song, which ends with the death of the lovers. Like many great love stories of the past, it is intensely tragic, notwithstanding the mythological symbolism of sacrificial death as the fulfillment of love.

L’amour de PiroutchaLA JEUNE FILLE«Toungou, ahi, toungou, berce, toi, Ma cendre des lumieres, berce ta petite en tes bras verts. Piroutcha, ta petite cendre, pour toi.»LA JEUNE HOMME«Ton œil tous les ciels, doundou tchil. Coupe-moi la tête, doundou, tchil.Nos souffles, nos souffles, bleu et or. Ahi! Ahi!Chaînes rouges, noires, mauves, amour, la mort.»

The love of PiroutchaTHE YOUNG GIRL“Toungou, ah, toungou, cradle, you, My cinder of luminaries, Cradle your little girl in your green arms. Piroutcha, your little cinder, for you.”THE YOUNG MAN“Your eye all the heavens, doundou tchil. Chop off my head, doundou, tchil. Our breath, our breath, blue and gold. Ah! Ah!Chains of red, black, mauve, love, death.”

The spiral nebulae, hands of my hair. Electrons, ants, arrows, silence in two. Alpha Centuare, Betelgeuse, Aldebaran,* Dilate the rainbow space raucous in time, Ionized laughter, clock’s furyto absent murder. Chop off my head, its figure rolls in blood! Tou, ahi! mané, man,Tou, ahi! mané, mani.OhRoll in the blood, roll in the blood, roll in the blood, roll in the blood! Ahi!

* Alpha Centaur: the brightest star in the southern constellation of Centaurus; brighter and more luminous that our Sun. Yellow in color.

Betelgeuse: the 8th brightest star in the night sky, 2nd brightest in Orion’s Belt. Red in color.

Aldebaran: one of the brightest stars in the night sky.

Orange in color.

“Art is an elastic sort of love.” — Josephine Baker —

Mon cœur est un oiseau des îlesText: Henri VarnaVincent ScottoMon cœur est un oiseau des îlesQui ne chante que pour l’amour;Dans tes bras il trouve l’asile,Le nid fragile des plus beaux jours.Car tout m’enivre quand je t’aperçoisMa joie de vivre, chéri, c’est toiMon cœur est un oiseau des îlesQui ne chante que pour l’amourTu m’as souri gentiment au réveilC’est mon soleilTu m’as donné de la joie, de l’espoir Jusqu’au soir.Car tout m’enivre quand je t’aperçoisMa joie de vivre, chéri, c’est toiMon cœur est un oiseau des îlesQui ne chante que pour l’amour.

My heart is an island bird

My heart is an island birdWho sings only for love;In your arms it finds asylum,The fragile nest of the happiest days.For all intoxicates me when I see youMy joy in life, darling, is you;My heart is an island birdWho sings only for love.You smiled at me gently while waking upThis is my sunshineYou gave me joy, hope,Until the evening.For all intoxicates me when I see youMy joy of life, darling, is you;My heart is an island birdWho sings only for love.

La conga blicotiText: André de BadetArmando OréficheYe!Ye blicoti, holy moly, Y’a plaisir, sì joli!Quand la conga, ye blicoti, Pour danser, retentiYe la conga, ye la conga blicotiC’est la conga, ye blicoti, Y avait mort, lui parti.Ye blicoti, coty moly,Y’a plaisir, sì joli!C’est ainsi la nuit, sous un ciel de feu,Loin d’ici comment de ces chants joyeux,Dans les cœurs, l’amour fait sa loi vainquer,Les temps sont fi-nuls ne dort,déjà c’est un l’astre d’or.Mais bientôt la conga devra finir,Les coteaux verront le soleil venir,Puis le jour au monde dira bonjour,C’est au soir la danse à grande briseReprends toujour pour la nuit.Ye!C’est la conga, ye blicoti, Il avait mort, lui partiYe blicoti, coty moly, y’a plaisir , sì joli.

The Blicoti Conga

Ye!Ye blicoti, holy moly There’s pleasure, so nice! When the conga, ye blicoti, Resounded for dancing.Ye, the conga, ye the conga blicotiIt’s the conga, ye blicoti, There was death, he left.Ye blicoti, coty moly, There’s pleasure, so nice!Thus in the night, under the sky of fire,Far away from these songs of joy,In hearts, love makes its law the victor,These times aren’t for sleeping - no!already there’s a star of gold. But soon the conga will have to end,The hills will see the sun approaching,Then the day will say hello to the world,It is at night that the dance Always resumes in the high winds!Ye!It’s the conga, ye blicoti, There was death, he left.Ye blicoti, coty moly, There’s pleasure, so nice!

Madiana Mairiotte AlmabyMadiana, petit bijou des îlesMadiana, aux lèvres de corailTa bouche est une fleur fragileDe chair palpitante et d’émail.Madiana, ton nom que je murmure,Sur le ciel de mon pays charmeurEst comme un chant dans la ramureBerçant tes rêves enchanteurs.C’est l’heure où la fougère endort,Et comme tu seras mon abeilleOù là toutes roses, tout blancGrisent les amoureux de la terre.C’est l’heure où je veux, dans tes bras,Gouter de charmes de tes pareils.Mon tendre dire sans cesse... MadianaMadiana, petit bijou des îlesMadiana aux lèvres de corailTa bouche est une fleur fragileDe chair palpitante et d’émailMadiana, ton nom que je murmureSur tout le ciel de ton pays charmeurEst comme un chant dans la ramureBerçant mes rêves enchanteurs.

Madiana, little island gem,Madiana, with coral lipsYour mouth is a fragile flowerOf quivering flesh and enamel.Madiana, you name that I whisper,Across the sky of my charming country,Is like a song in the branches,Cradling your enchanting dreams.This is the time when the fern sleeps,And since you will be my beeWhere all roses, all whiteIntoxicate the lovers of the earth.Is it the hour where I want, in your arms,To taste your charms. My tender constant words... Madiana.Madiana, little island gem,Madiana, with coral lipsYour mouth is a fragile flowerOf quivering flesh and enamel.Madiana, your name that I whisper,Across the sky of your charming country,Is like a song in the branchesCradling my enchanting dreams.

Dis-moi JoséphineText: Henri VarnaLéo LelièvreDites-nous, JoséphinePuisqu’on te revoit,Charmante et divine,Dites-nous, JoséphineQuel est cet émoiQu’en toi je devine ?« Quelle joie pour moi de revenirEt de retrouver mes souvenirs. »Dites-nous, JoséphineOui, dites-nous pourquoiTon cœur s’illumineDites-nous, JoséphineSi comme autrefoisParis te fascine«Vous le voyez bien par mon retourLa France toujours Idéal séjour, aura mon amour. »

Tell me Joséphine

Tell us JosephineNow that you’re reflecting,Charming and divine,Tell us JosephineWhat is this emotionin you that I’m sensing?“What a joy for me to returnAnd retrieve my memories.”Tell us JosephineYes, tell us whyYour heart is lit up;Tell us JosephineIs it just as beforethat Paris fascinates you.“You can see very well by my return,That France, always,ideal sojourn, will have my love.”

J’ai deux amourText: Géo Koeger and Henri VarnaVincent ScottoOn dit qu’au-delà des mers, Là-bas sous le ciel clair, Il existe une cité, au séjour enchanté. Et sous les grands arbres noirs, Chaque soir, vers elle s’en va tout mon espoir.J’ai deux amours, Mon pays et Paris. Par eux toujours, Mon coeur est ravi.Manhattan est belle, Mais à quoi bon le nier: Ce qui m’ensorcelle c’est Paris, Paris tout entier.Le voir un jour,C’est mon rêve joli.J’ai deux amours,Mon pays et Paris.

I have two loves

It is said that beyond the seas, There, under the clear sky, There exists a city of an enchanted stay. And under the big black trees, Every night, all my hope goes towards her.I have two loves, My country and Paris.By them always, My heart is always delighted.Manhattan is beautiful, But to what end: What enchants me is Paris, Paris completely. To see it one day Is my lovely dream. I have two loves, My country and Paris.

Texts transcribed and translated by Ilana Zarankin and Julia Bullock.

Si j’étais blancheText: Henri VarnaLéo LelièvreJe voudrais être blanche,Pour moi quel bonheurSi mes seins et mes hanchesChangent de couleurLes Parisiens à Juan-les-PinsSe faisaient droitAu soleil d’exposerLeur amour, un peu noir.Moi, pour être blanche,J’allais me roulantParmi les avalanchesEn haut du Mont BlancCe stratagèmeDonne un petit rigoleJ’avais l’air dans la crèmeD’un petit pruneau.Étant petite, avec chagrinJ’admirais dans les magasinsLa teinte pâle de poupées blanches.J’aurais voulu leur ressemblerEt je disais à l’air, accablé,Me croyant toute seule brune au mondeAu soleil, c’est par l’extérieurQue l’on se dore,Moi, c’est la flamme de mon cœurQui me colore

If I were white

I would like to be white,For me what pleasure If my breasts and my hipschanged color.The Parisians from Juan-les-Pins* Thought it smartTo expose to the sunTheir love, a little black.Me, in order to be white,I go rollingBetween the avalanches In the heights of Mont Blanc.*This stratagem,Makes us laugh a little,In the cream, I looked likeA little prune.When I was young, with griefI admired in the storesThe pale complexion of the white dolls.I would have liked to resemble them,And I said to the air, dejected,Believing myself to be the only brown one in

the world.In the sun, we make ourselvesgold on the outside,But it is the flame of my heartWhich colors me.

Texts transcribed and translated by Ilana Zarankin and Julia Bullock.

From Cinco canciones negrasPunto de Habanera (Siglo XVIII)ChévereCanción de cuna para dormir a un negritoText: Néstor LujánXavier MontsalvatgePunto de Habanera (Siglo XVIII) La niña criolla pasa con su miriña que blanco. Qué blanco! Hola, crespón de tu es puma. Marineros, contempladla! Va mojadita de lunas que le hacen su piel mulata. Niña, no te quejes, tan solo por esta tarde. Quisierra mandar al agua que no se escape de pronto de la cárcel de tu falda. Tu cuerpo encierra esta tarde, rumor de abrir se de dalia. Niña, no te quejes, Tu cuerpo de fruta está dormido en fresco brocade. Tu cintura vibra fina con la nobleza de un látigo. Toda tu piel huele alegre a limonal y a naranjo. Los marineros te miran y se te quedan mirando. La niña criolla pasa con su miriña que blanco que blanco!

Habanera Point (18th Century) The creole girl passes by in her white crinoline. *How white! Hey, the crepe of you is like a puma.Sailors, examine her! She walks wet from the moon droplets that are on her dark skin. Little girl, do not worry, all alone this evening. I would like to order water not to escape too soon from the prison of your skirt.Your body encloses, this evening, the murmur of the dahlia** opening. Little girl, do not fret, Your body is fruit asleep in the embroidered breeze. Your waist quivers finely with the nobility of a whip. All your skin smells joyfully of lemon and orange. The sailors look at you and they keep looking at you. The creole girl goes by in her white crinoline how white! ** a hollow stemmed flower, nicknamed a “water

pipe” in Spain

Faut-il que je sois blanchePour vous plaire mieux?

Must I be white,To please you better?

ChévereText: Nicolás GuillénChévere del navajazo se vuelve él mismo navaja. Pica tajadas de luna, más la luna se le acaba; pica tajadas de sombra,más la sombra se le acaba; pica tajadas de canto, más la canto se le acaba, y entonces, pica que pica,carne de su negra mala. carne de su negra mala!

Cavalier

Cavalier of the slashing knife,turns himself into a knife,He cuts the moon up in slices,but he runs out of moon;he cuts shadows up in slices,but he runs out of shadows;he cuts songs up in slices, but he runs out of songs,and then, slash by slash, he cuts up the flesh of his bad black woman.he cuts up the flesh of his bad black woman!

* a bustle; a stiffened or hooped petticoat

Canción de cuna para dormir a un negrito Text: Ildefonso Pereda ValdésNinghe, tan chiquitito el negrito que no quiere dormer. Cabeza de coco, grano de café con lindas motitas, con ojos grandotes como dos ventanas que miran al mar. Cierra los ojitos, negrito asustado; el mandinga blanco te puede comer. Ya no eres esclavo! y si duermes mucho el señor de casa promete comprar traje con botones para ser un “groom.” Ninghe, duérmete, negrito, Cabeza de coco, grano de café.

Cradle Song for a Little Black Boy

Ninghe, little tiny one little black child who does not want to sleep. Coconut head, coffee bean with pretty freckles with big eyes like two windows overlooking the sea. Close your little eyes, frightened boy; the white boogey-man is going to eat you. You are not a slave anymore! and if you sleep a lot the master of the house promises to buy you a suit with buttons so you can be a groom. Ninghe, sleep little black boy, Coconut head, coffee bean.

Brown BabyOscar Brown, Jr.Brown baby,As you grow up I want you to drink from the plenty cupI want you to stand up tall and proudAnd I want you to speak up clear and loudBrown baby.As years go by I want you to go with your head up highI want you to live by the justice codeAnd I want you to walk down freedom’s roadYou little brown baby.

So lie away sleepin’ Lie away singin’Lie away sleepin’ Lie away safe in my armsIt makes me glad You gonna have things that I never hadBrown baby.

I wish I knew how it would feel to be freeLyrics by Billy Taylor and Dick Dallas*Billy TaylorI wish I knew howIt would feel to be freeI wish I could breakAll these chains holding meI wish I could sayAll the things I should saySay ’em loud say ’em clearFor the whole world to hearI wish I could shareAll the love in my heartRemove all the barsThat keep us apartI wish you could knowWhat it means to be meThen you’d see and agreeEvery man should be free

I wish I could be Like a bird in the skyHow sweet it would beIf I found I could flyOh I’d soar to the sunAnd look down at the seaThen I’d sing ’cause I’d knowHow it feels to be free.

* “I Wish I Knew ...” was recorded by Nina Simone on her Silk & Soul album released in 1967:

“What’s free to me? ... I’ve had a couple times onstage when I really felt free; and that’s somethin’ else. That’s really something else! I’ll tell you what freedom is to me: no fear! I mean really... no fear! Lots of children have no fear, and that’s the closest — that’s the only way I can describe it ... that’s not all of it, but it’s something to really, really feel. Like a new way of singing. Like a new way of seeing something.”

— Nina Simone

Julia Bullock, soprano Winner of the 2014 Naumburg International Vocal Competition, soprano Julia Bullock has been hailed as an “impressive, fast-rising soprano … poised for a significant career” (The New York Times). Her busy 2014-2015 season begins with a performance of Delage’s Quatres poèmes hindous with the Sphinx Symphony Orchestra and a recital at Napa’s Festival del Sole. She performs recitals and educational outreach programs at the University of Florida Performing Arts, Alys Stephens Performing Arts Center, the Levine School of Music, and Music for Youth, as well as recitals at the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, the National Museum of Women in the Arts, San Francisco Performances, Rockefeller University, the Michael Schimmel Center for the Arts at Pace University, and Carnegie Hall Neighborhood Concerts. She will also be featured in the New York Festival of Song’s At Harlem’s Height program on tour and at Merkin Concert Hall, as well as in the Mondavi Center’s Rising Stars of Opera. She reprises the title role in Henry Purcell’s The Indian Queen, directed by Peter Sellars at the Perm Opera House, and at English National Opera later this season. She was acclaimed for her performance of the role last season in Perm and at the Teatro Real in Madrid; a DVD of the Madrid production will be available this season.Ms. Bullock has performed the title role in Massenet’s Cendrillon with the Juilliard Opera, as well as Janáček’s The Cunning Little Vixen, both to rave reviews. Opera News wrote of the latter, “Julia Bullock as the titular vixen led the way in terms of clarity of delivery and beauty of sound. Her broad range of expression allowed her to be impetuous and demonstrative … then opulent and glorious.” Ms. Bullock has toured South America as Pamina in Peter Brook’s award-winning A Magic Flute; and toured China, singing with the Bard Music Festival Orchestra. Other opera roles include Susanna in Le Nozze di Figaro, Monica in The Medium, and the title role in L’Enfant et les Sortilèges. She made her San Francisco Symphony debut last season in West Side Story in Concert, conducted by Michael Tilson Thomas; an album of the concert was released on the orchestra’s label in June 2014. The San Francisco Chronicle wrote: “The evening’s most remarkable showstopper, Julia Bullock, appeared out of nowhere to deliver a full-voiced stunningly paced account of Somewhere—for just a moment, it seemed as though nothing Bernstein ever wrote was quite as magical as that one song.”

Little David (Play on Your Harp)Text: Anonymous Harry T. BurleighLittle David, play on your harp, HalleluLittle David, play on your harp, Hallelu.God told Moses, O Lord!To go down into Egypt, O Lord!Tell ole Pharo; O Lord!Loose my people, O Little David, play on your harp, Hallelu,Little David, play on your harp, Hallelu.

Down in de valley, O Lord!I didn’t go to stay; O Lord!My soul got happy, O Lord!An’ I stay’d all day, O Little David, play on your harp, HalleluLittle David, play on your harp Hallelu.

Ms. Bullock has performed contemporary works at the Ojai Music Festival and the MUSIC ALIVE! series, curated by composer Joan Tower and pianist Blair McMillen; collaborated with early music ensembles, including the Clarion Music Society; and explored lesser-known repertoire with the American Symphony Orchestra in a performance of Delage’s Quartre poèmes hindous. She has also appeared with the New York Festival of Song at Caramoor, with the Cecilia Chorus and Orchestra at Carnegie Hall, and the Philadelphia Chamber Music Society at the Kimmel Center. She enjoys the collaborative process with both established and up-and-coming composers. In 2011, she attended SongFest in California as a Stern Fellow, where she worked with pianist Roger Vignoles and composers John Musto and Libby Larsen. Ms. Bullock has sung in master classes with bass-baritone Eric Owens at Juilliard, soprano Jessye Norman at Zankel Hall, and José van Dam at Opera Bastille in Paris. She also performed in the Dawn Upshaw/Donnacha Dennehy Workshop at Carnegie Hall, premiering pieces written for her by young Chinese composer Shen Yiwen.Winner of the 2012 Young Concert Artists International Auditions, Ms. Bullock made her recital debuts at Merkin Concert Hall and the Kennedy Center to critical acclaim. At the Auditions, she was also the recipient of five special prizes: the Alexander Kasza-Kasser Prize, concerts at the Festspiele Mecklenburg-Vorpommern in Germany, the University of Florida Performing Arts, and with the Albany Symphony and the Sinfonia Gulf Coast. She holds the Lindemann Vocal Chair of Young Concert Artists. Her management is also supported by the Barbara Forester Austin Fund for Art Song.From 2003 to 2005, Ms. Bullock participated in the Artists-in-Training program with the Opera Theater of St. Louis, and graduated with the prestigious Marielle Hubner Award. She earned her Bachelor’s degree from the Eastman School of Music, and her master’s degree at Bard College’s Graduate Vocal Arts Program, where she was the first recipient of the Mimi Levitt Scholarship, and won Bard College’s 2010 Concerto Competition. She is currently pursuing an Artist Diploma at The Juilliard School, working with Edith Bers. Originally from St. Louis, Missouri, Ms. Bullock integrates her musical life with community activism. She has organized benefit concerts for the Shropshire Music Foundation and International Playground, two non-profits that serve war-affected children and adolescents through music education and performance programs in Kosovo, Northern Ireland, Uganda, and St. Louis. She also participated in the Music and Medicine Benefit Concert for New York’s Weill Medical Center.

Renate Rohlfing, pianoRenate Rohlfing is rapidly garnering a name as one of her generation’s most versatile and accomplished collaborative pianists. Equally active in instrumental and vocal music, Ms. Rohlfing’s 13/14 season included recitals with soprano Julia Bullock in New York, Washington, D.C., and Illinois, soprano Kathryn Guthrie in Pennsylvania, soprano Sarah Wolfson in South Carolina, and performances with her piano trio, LONGLEASH, in Ohio, San Francisco, and Graz, Austria. She recently completed a residency at the Spoleto Festival in Charleston, S.C., performing as chamber musician, orchestral pianist, and opera repetiteur. This is Ms. Rohlfing’s fourth residency at Ravinia; last summer, she was featured in Britten’s Phaedra under the baton of James Conlon. Upcoming highlights include recitals in Boston, New York, and Florida with soprano Julia Bullock, an appearance at Carnegie Hall for Marilyn Horne’s The Song Continues Gala, as well as trio performances at the Trøndheim Chamber Music Festival in Norway, Kentucky, and throughout the New York area. Ms. Rohlfing is a winner of numerous honors, including the New Orleans International Concerto Competition, the Presser Scholarship and the Avenir Foundation Research Grant. She is an alumna of the Juilliard School and a native of Honolulu, Hawaii.