Gabriel FAURÉ

(1845-1924)

Hugo Wolf

(1860-1903)

Franz Schubert

(1797-1828)

Francesco Paolo Tosti

(1846-1916)

Benjamin Britten

(1913-1976)

Saul Chaplin

(1912-1997)

Walter Kent

(1911-1994)

MASTERS RECITAL

Aaron J. Godwin, tenor

Michael Bagby, piano

Carly Charles, horn

Smith Memorial Hall

Recital Hall

Friday, April 1, 2016

7:30 PM

Cinq mélodies de "Venise", Op. 58

1. Mandoline (from Fêtes galantes)

2. En sourdine (from Fêtes galantes)

3. Green (from Romances sans paroles)

4. À Clymène (from Fêtes galantes)

5. C'est l'extase (from Romances sans paroles)

"Heimweh" from Eichendorff-Lieder

Auf dem Strom, D. 943

L'alba sepàra dalla luce l'ombra

INTERMISSION

Serenade for Tenor, Horn and Strings, Op. 31

1. Prologue (horn solo)

2. Pastoral, a setting of The Evening Quatrains by Charles Cotton

(1630–1687)

3. Nocturne, Blow, bugle, blow by Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809–

1892)

4. Elegy, The Sick Rose by William Blake (1757–1827)

5. Dirge, the anonymous Lyke-Wake Dirge (fifteenth century)

6. Hymn, Hymn to Diana by Ben Jonson (1572–1637)

7. Sonnet, To Sleep by John Keats (1795–1821)

8. Epilogue (horn solo)

Please be Kind

The White Cliffs of Dover

Cinq mélodies de Venise, Op. 58 (Five “Venetian” Songs) Gabriel Fauré (1845 – 1924) Poetry by Paul Verlaine (1844 – 1896)

Widely accepted to be among the most advanced French composers of his generation, Gabriel Fauré extensive output of work included over 100 songs, choral music (including two masses), works for the stage including a tragédie lyrique, chamber and solo piano works, and orchestral works including two symphonies. His musical talents were identified early in his childhood and upon completion of schooling at the Ecole Niedermeyer under the tutelage of Camille Saint-Saëns, Fauré eventually received the position of choirmaster at one of the most important cathedrals in Paris, the Madeline. Later in his life he taught at and was appointed as the director of the National Conservatory in France and taught many significant musicians, including Maurice Ravel and Nadia Boulanger. Fauré was one of the greatest composers of French song. Along with Duparc and Dubussy, he perfected the mélodie as a true art song form. In his over 100 mélodies, Fauré constructed a range of songs that are noted for their originality, developing style, and their influence on future composers. Fauré built on the already existing mélodie tradition by using the medium to express a broader range of emotion and musical textures. His song compositional style is often described as having great precision, filled with refined nuance and delicate detail. His songs also display a uniquely French characteristic of favoring sentiment over literal sensation. The emotion of Fauré’s songs is found in his method of text setting.

Cinq melodies de Venise was the composer’s first attempt at a formal song cycle. Fauré was struck with the idea while on holiday in Venice, though there is nothing intrinsically Italian about the set. The texts are drawn from Verlaine’s Fêtes galantes and Romances sans paroles. Although the set has no formal tonal plan, Fauré organized this cycle in other ways (e.g., weaving patterns into each consecutive piece from the preceding song). The poems chosen are of similar mood and are arranged in a way that weaves a narrative through a progression of scenes and stages in the relationship of the lovers in the poems. First, the setting of the scene with the sounds of the mandolin and pretty girls singing, followed by an intimate moment shared in the shade of a tree between two lovers, then a breathless declaration of love, a love song, and finally a joyous and almost erotic joining of two souls as one. This first venture into the crafting of a song cycle by Fauré opened the door for further development of his song style, leading to the success of his La bonne chanson immediately following. This prosperous venture into song cycle composition led into Fauré’s last period when almost all of his songs took the form of cycles.

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1. Mandoline Les donneurs de sérénades Et les belles écouteuses Échangent des propos fades Sous les ramures chanteuses. C'est Tircis et c'est Aminte, Et c'est l'éternel Clitandre, Et c'est Damis qui pour mainte Cruelle fait maint vers tendre. Leurs courtes vestes de soie, Leurs longues robes à queues, Leur élégance, leur joie Et leurs molles ombres bleues,

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1. Mandolin The givers of serenades And the lovely listeners Exchange insipid remarks Beneath the singing branches. There are Thyrsis and Amyntas And there is the eternal Clytander, And there is Damis, who, for many Heartless women, wrote many tender verses. Their short silk jackets, Their long dress trains, Their elegance, their joy, And their soft blue shadows,

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Tourbillonnent dans l'extase D'une lune rose et grise, Et la mandoline jase Parmi les frissons de brise.

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Whirl around in the ecstasy Of a pink and grey moon, And the mandolin chatters Amidst the fluttering of the breeze.

2. Softly Peaceful in the half-light That the high branches cast, Let us imbue our love With this profound silence. Let us mingle our souls, our hearts, And our enraptured senses, Among the languor of dreams Of the pine and arbutus trees. Close your eyes halfway, Cross your hands across your breast, And from your sleeping heart Banish forever all desire. Let us abandon ourselves To the soothing gentle breath, Which, at your feet, ripples The waves of auburn grass. And when, solemnly, the evening From the dark oaks will fall, The voice of our despair, The nightingale, will sing.

2. En Sourdine Calmes dans le demi-jour Que les branches hautes font, Pénétrons bien notre amour De ce silence profond. Fondons nos âmes, nos cœurs Et nos sens extasiés, Parmi les vagues langueurs Des pins et des arbousiers. Ferme tes yeux à demi, Croise tes bras sur ton sein, Et de ton cœur endormi Chasse à jamais tout dessein. Laissons-nous persuader Au souffle berceur et doux Qui vient, à tes pieds, rider Les ondes des gazons roux. Et quand, solennel, le soir Des chênes noirs tombera, Voix de notre désespoir, Le rossignol chantera.

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3. Green Voici des fruits, des fleurs, des feuilles et des branches Et puis voici mon cœur qui ne bat que pour vous. Ne le déchirez pas avec vos deux mains blanches Et qu'à vos yeux si beaux l'humble présent soit doux. J'arrive tout couvert encore de rosée Que le vent du matin vient glacer à mon front.

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3. Green Here are fruits, flowers, leaves and branches And here is my heart which beats only for you. Do not tear it with your two white hands And may this humble present be sweet in your beautiful eyes! I arrive still covered with dew Which the morning wind comes to freeze on my forehead.

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Souffrez que ma fatigue un instant reposée, Rêve des chers instants qui la délasseront. Sur votre jeune sein laissez rouler ma tête Toute sonore encore de vos derniers baisers; Laissez-la s'apaiser de la bonne tempête, Et que je dorme un peu puisque vous reposez.

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Let me rest my weariness a moment Dreaming of cherished moments which will refresh me. On your young breast let me rest my head Which is still ringing from your last kisses; Let it calm itself after the pleasant tempest, And let me sleep a little while you are resting.

4. A Clymène Mystiques barcarolles, Romances sans paroles, Chère, puisque tes yeux, Couleur des cieux, Puisque ta voix, étrange Vision qui dérange Et trouble l'horizon De ma raison, Puisque l'arôme insigne De ta pâleur de cygne, Et puisque la candeur De ton odeur, Ah ! puisque tout ton être, Musique qui pénètre, Nimbes d'anges défunts, Tons et parfums, A, sur d'almes cadences, En ses correspondances Induit mon cœur subtil, Ainsi soit-il !

4. To Clymène Mystical barcaroles*, Songs without words, Dearest, because your eyes, The color of the heavens, Because your voice, a strange Vision which disturbs And blurs the horizon Of my reason, Because the distinctive aroma Of your swan-like paleness, And because of the innocence Of your fragrance, Ah! Because your entire being, A music so piercing, Haloes of fallen angles, Colors and perfumes, Has, by soft cadences, With all its sensations, Lured my subtle heart, So be it!

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5. C’est l’extase C'est l'extase langoureuse, C'est la fatigue amoureuse, C'est tous les frissons des bois Parmi l'étreinte des brises, C'est vers les ramures grises

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5. It’s Ecstasy It’s languorous ecstasy, It’s loving fatigue, It’s all the woods trembling In the breeze’s embrace, It’s in the grey branches

*A barcarole is a folk song sung by Venetian gondoliers, or a piece of music composed in that style.

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Le choeur des petites voix. O le frêle et frais murmure! Cela gazouille et susurre, Cela ressemble au cri doux Que l'herbe agitée expire... Tu dirais, sous l'eau qui vire, Le roulis sourd des cailloux. Cette âme qui se lamente En cette plainte dormante C'est la nôtre, n'est-ce pas? La mienne, dis, et la tienne, Dont s'exhale l'humble antienne Par ce tiède soir, tout bas?

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The choir of small voices. Oh frail and fresh murmur! It babbles and whispers, Resembling the gentle cry Uttered by the restless grass… You could say it was, under the turning water, The muffled sound of pebbles rolling by. This soul that laments In its hushed complaint Is ours, is it not? Mine and yours, Which exhales the humble anthem In this mild evening, so quietly?

“Heimweh”, from Eichendorff-Lieder, no. 12 (Homesickness) Hugo Wolf (1860 – 1903) Poetry by Josef Karl Benedikt von Eichendorff (1788 – 1857)

Hugo Wolf was a prolific Austrian composer of Slovenian origins. His songs exhibit a highly refined sense of style, expressive intensity with his own brand of technique. His life as a composer was characterized by several intense periods of composing that yielded a great number of works. These periods were often interrupted by a severe depression before he suffered a complete mental break down due to a case of syphilis. Wolf himself referred to his songs as “poems for voice and piano”, which shows the importance he placed on the complete synthesis of text and music. He composed nearly 250 songs in only around a five-year time span, each carefully crafted to extract the essence of the poetic text. Wolf was one of many German composers of the 19th century to set the poetry of the great Romantic writer Joseph von Eichendorff. Wolf composed twenty Lieder to Eichendorff texts with an overall mood that is generally bright and cheerful. One piece in particular is representative of the Romantic ideal of longing for lost paradise, the twelfth selection of this songbook entitled “Heimweh” or “homesickness”. The text for this selection depicts a man wandering in a foreign land, longing to be back in the borders of his homeland. At the end of the piece when the man in the poem finally glimpses a view of his homeland from the highest peak in the mountain range we are treated to a glorious and joyful declamation of peace, hope, and patriotism. This selection, though often overlooked and sometimes referred to as boring and dull with unvaried accompaniment, is another shining example of Wolf’s style and text setting.

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Wer in die Fremde will wandern, Der muß mit der Liebsten gehn, Es jubeln und lassen die andern Den Fremden alleine stehn. Was wisset ihr, dunkele Wipfel, Von der alten, schönen Zeit? Ach, die Heimat hinter den Gipfeln, Wie liegt sie von hier so weit? Am liebsten betracht' ich die Sterne, Die schienen, wie ich ging zu ihr,

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He who wants to wander into a foreign land, Must go with his beloved, The others will rejoice and leave The foreigner standing alone. What do you know, dark treetops, Of the good, old days? Ah, my homeland beyond the mountains, Why does it lie so far from here? I loved most to look at the stars, That shone as I went to her,

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Die Nachtigall hör' ich so gerne, Sie sang vor der Liebsten Tür. Der Morgen, das ist meine Freude! Da steig' ich in stiller Stund' Auf den höchsten Berg in die Weite, Grüß dich, Deutschland, aus Herzensgrund!

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I listened happily to the nightingale, As she sang before my beloved’s door. Morning, that is my joy! In the peaceful hour I climb On the highest mountain in the distance, And greet you, Germany, with my whole heart!

Auf dem Strom, D.943 (On the river) Franz Schubert (1797 – 1828) Poetry by Ludwig Rellstab (1799 – 1860)

Franz Schubert was one of the greatest composers of the 19th century in all genres of Western art music. Indeed, Schubert’s astounding 600 songs with texts by approximately 90 poets form the cornerstone of German Lieder. The Lied of the Romantic movement by composers such as Schumann, Mendelssohn, Brahms, Liszt, Mahler, and Wolf, all looked back to Schubert for inspiration in their own works. Schubert’s songs consisted of every formal structure including strophic and through composed setting of texts. He produced the first great German song cycles (Die schöne Müllerin and Winterreise), which influenced the composition of song cycles for the remainder of the century. His treatment of accompaniment was unique and innovative for the time. He was very intuitive about gauging the essence of a poem, allowing him to transform the texts he chose to set into a perfect musical representation of the prose.

Schubert programed a concert in 1828 on the first anniversary of Beethoven’s death in reverence to the composer who most influenced him. Among the pieces present was his setting of Ludwig Rellstab’s “Auf dem Strom”, D. 943, a poem that was originally given to Beethoven for musical setting, but which he did not live long enough to accomplish. Schubert’s “Auf dem Strom” was composed with the high tenor Ludwig Titze and hornist Josef Lewy in mind. The text of the poem presents ideas of death and transfiguration. Each of the five verses is separated and accompanied by horn and piano passages of gallant and nostalgic beauty. The verses themselves are elevated in tone and deeply moving. The melody is an homage to Beethoven’s “Eroica” symphony, though Schubert never explicitly quotes Beethoven. The text itself depicts a man struggling in his boat on raging river as he is pulled away violently from all he knows on the shore. The river is clearly a metaphor for passage from life unto death; only when the boat finally reaches the other shore, does the tempest of raging currents and rolling waves finally cease. The text and its masterful musical setting are prime examples of the Romantic ideal of longing for paradise.

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Nimm die letzten Abschiedsküsse, Und die wehenden, die Grüße, Die ich noch ans Ufer sende, Eh' dein Fuß sich scheidend wende! Schon wird von des Stromes Wogen Rasch der Nachen fortgezogen, Doch den tränendunklen Blick Zieht die Sehnsucht stets zurück! Und so trägt mich denn die Welle Fort mit unerflehter Schnelle. Ach, schon ist die Flur verschwunden, Wo ich selig Sie gefunden! Ewig hin, ihr Wonnetage!

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Take the last parting kisses, And my waving of farewell, That I send to the river bank, Before your turn your feet and leave! Already the river’s current is Pulling briskly at my boat, But my tear-dimmed gaze Is turned back again by longing! And so the waves carry me Away with unsympathetic haste. Ah, the meadow is out of sight, Where I, in bliss, found you! Gone forever, you days of joy!

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Hoffnungsleer verhallt die Klage Um das schöne Heimatland, Wo ich ihre Liebe fand. Sieh, wie flieht der Strand vorüber, Und wie drängt es mich hinüber, Zieht mit unnennbaren Banden, An der Hütte dort zu landen, In der Laube dort zu weilen; Doch des Stromes Wellen eilen Weiter ohne Rast und Ruh, Führen mich dem Weltmeer zu! Ach, vor jener dunklen Wüste, Fern von jeder heitern Küste, Wo kein Eiland zu erschauen, O, wie faßt mich zitternd Grauen! Wehmutstränen sanft zu bringen, Kann kein Lied vom Ufer dringen; Nur der Sturm weht kalt daher Durch das grau gehobne Meer! Kann des Auges sehnend Schweifen Keine Ufer mehr ergreifen, Nun so schau' ich zu den Sternen Auf in jenen heil'gen Fernen! Ach, bei ihrem milden Scheine Nannt' ich sie zuerst die Meine; Dort vielleicht, o tröstend Glück! Dort begegn' ich ihrem Blick.

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Hopelessly my cries echo Through homeland, Where I first found her love. See how the shore flies past, And how I am drawn to it, Drawn by unspeakable bonds, To land there by that little hut, To linger there in the arbor; But the flowing river hurries On without rest or repose, Leading me out into the ocean! Ah, before that dark wasteland, Far from any cheerful coast, Where no island can be seen, Oh, how I am seized with trembling horror! Gently bringing tears of grief, Songs from the shore can no longer reach me; Only a storm blowing coldly from there, Can cross the grey, heaving sea! If my eyes wandering longingly Can no longer glimpse the shore, Then I shall gaze up at the stars Into the sacred distance! Ah, beneath their placid light I first called her mine; There, perhaps, oh happy thought! There I might meet her gaze.

“L’alba sepàra dalla luce l’ombra” from Quattro canzoni d’Amaranta, no. 2 (The dawn divides the darkness from the light) Francesco Paolo Tosti (1846 - 1916) Poetry by Gabriele D’Annunzio (1863 – 1938)

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Tosti was a native of the coastal city of Ortona, located in Abruzzo, Italy and was one of the most successful composers of not only Italian songs, but of the entire genre as a whole in the 19th and early 20th centuries. Tosti spent many of his most prolific years in London where he served as the singing master for Queen Victoria’s children as well as a professor at the Royal Academy of Music. His compositions were consistently published and by the end of the 19th century, he had established himself among the most famous composers in Europe as well as among the most successful (Ricordi was paying him a retainer equivalent to today’s standards of nearly $16,000 per week). Tosti composed over 350 songs in a variety of languages. He had an excellent knowledge of vocal technique and was an accomplished singer and pianist. It has been suggested that many of his songs were written with his own voice in mind, having been a lyric tenor.1 His songs did not vary much in stylistic differences from one language to another and it is evident that many of his pieces were written out of demand by commercial enterprise rather than an artistic one. However, assuming that intellectual depth is not a prerequisite for artistic worth, and considering Tosti’s enormous popularity throughout Europe, it seems safe to conclude that Tosti contributed a considerable number of superb

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songs to the repertoire. Tosti took great care in choosing texts for his songs, focusing on the most respected Italian poets of his day, which led to his collaboration with a hometown friend, Gabriel D’Annunzio. Altogether, he set a total of thirty-four compositions to texts by D’Annunzio.

Quattro canzoni d’Amaranta is a collection of four songs set to texts by D’Annunzio dealing with the duality of “day” and “night” and their poetic representation of “life” and “death”. Quattro canzoni d’Amaranta was created as a song cycle and was Tosti’s first attempt at doing so. The poetic idea of the second piece in the cycle, L’alba sèpara dalla luce l’ombra, inspired Tosti to write a piece in which the melody could have free reign. The melody of this selection is sustained by an accompaniment composed of triplets that contrasts the vocal line, which is written in duple time. The vocal line itself has an extensive range and a high tessitura. The first stanza opens in E-flat major and uses an expansive phrasing giving the listener a sense of tranquility. The same phrasing is used again in the second stanza with the melody slightly modified. The third and last stanza appears to begin the same way in the piano interlude but then the harmony changes to G-flat major followed by a modulation to C-flat major. The remainder of the last stanza is characterized by a gradual crescendo, which finally reaches ff for the final, dual statement of the last words of the poem. The lyrics on this line “il sole eterno” (“the eternal sun”) are exquisitely and perfectly matched by a definitive sense of arrival and eternality in the final cadence leading into a piano postlude.

L'alba sepàra dalla luce l'ombra, E la mia voluttà dal mio desire. O dolce stelle, è l'ora di morire. Un più divino amor dal ciel vi sgombra. Pupille ardenti, O voi senza ritorno Stelle tristi, spegnetevi incorrotte! Morir debbo. Veder non voglio il giorno, Per amor del mio sogno e della notte. Chiudimi, O Notte, nel tuo sen materno, Mentre la terra pallida s'irrora. Ma che dal sangue mio nasca l'aurora E dal sogno mio breve il sole eterno!

The dawn divides the darkness from the light, And my sensual pleasure from my desire. Oh sweet stars, it is the hour of death. A love more holy clears you from the skies. Gleaming eyes, oh who won’t return Sad stars, snuff out your uncorrupted light! I must die. I do not want to see the day, For love of my own dream and of the night. Envelop me, oh Night, in your maternal breast, While the pale earth bathes herself in dew. But from my blood let the dawn be born And from my brief dream the eternal sun!

Serenade for Tenor, Horn, and Strings, Op. 31 Benjamin Britten (1913 – 19176)

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It is well established that Britten is one of if not the most prolific composers of the 20th century with an enormous output of work and credited with the resurrection of English opera. Many of his vocal works were written specifically for the tenor Peter Pears. Benjamin Britten and Peter Pears (1910–1986) enjoyed a forty yearlong professional and personal partnership and is arguably among the most significant partnerships of the 20th century. In terms of their history, the two men shared similar journeys. Both were the youngest children of their families and born to older parents. Both studied music as children before matriculating to the Royal College of Music. Both men were self-proclaimed pacifists and strong objectors to WWII. It wasn’t until 1937, when a mutual friend passed away in a fatal plane crash, that the two men became acquainted. The two began living and working together in 1938 and in 1939, with Europe hurtling toward war, they immigrated to the US where their relationship turned romantic. As their relationship continued, and each man’s career developed, it becomes clear that Britten was selecting material for compositions from life experiences

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(e.g., Peter Grimes was based on a poem they found that made both men homesick for Suffolk, which led to their return to England1, or Holy Sonnets of John Donne was written as a response to Britten’s visit to liberated concentration camps). These compositions were written for Pears, whose vocal talents were developing considerably (Britten felt he could write something to feature the tenor’s growing abilities). By 1953, when Britten completed Winter Words, he had already composed several operatic roles for Pears and so had constantly witnessed, and consequently composed for, the growth of Pears’ artistry in order to promote his talents. Britten and Pears continued to perform and compose together until Britten’s death in 1976.

Britten was chiefly concerned with achieving simplicity in his music. Despite the complexity of music in the early 20th century, and though he was intrigued by the music of composers such as Schoenberg and Berg, Britten insisted upon a form and style that was very dynamic, but focused and concentrated. Britten’s treatment of the text is at the heart of his compositional style, a characteristic perfectly exhibited by Serenade for Tenor, Horn and Strings. Serenade takes the listener on a journey from dusk into night. One of the more interesting aspects of this song cycle is that, instead of being connected by a running narrative, it tells a psychological journey that combines different aspects of the night (e.g., sunset, midnight, the moon, sleep, and death) into a firmly cohesive unit. Upon returning from America, forged a friendship with Dennis Brain, a young virtuoso horn player, who asked Britten to write a work for him. Because of the talent and prowess of the two individuals the work was being composed for (Pears and Brain), Britten wrote a work with many technical challenges. Thus the Serenade represents an absolute fusion of the musical sensibilities of all three great artists.

The work consists of eight movements, two exclusively for the horn; the “Prologue” and the “Epilogue”. Both of these movements are composed on only the horn’s natural harmonics, which evoke a more primitive time. The opening sets the scene and both the “Prologue” and the “Epilogue” form the framework for the whole work. The second movement, “Pastoral” sets text by Charles Cotton (1630–1687) who was an English poet. “Pastoral” describes the coming of night with descending arpeggios, continuing the gentle mood of the “Prologue”. The text setting and word painting Britten achieves in this movement evokes the imagery of the setting sun, leading us into the night, which the other pieces deal with.

The third movement, “Nocturne”, is set to texts by the well-known poet from Victorian England, Alfred Lord Tennyson (1809–1892). This movement is characterized by the horn taking the role of the “bugle” that is referenced in the text. One of the most intriguing aspects of this movement, and a testament to Britten’s genius, is the call and response fanfares that the voice and horn share, a clear homage to the “echo” of the bugle from the text. These fanfares are almost cadenza-like in their composition, which are constructed on chains of thirds. “Elegy” is the fourth movement set to text by William Blake (1757–1827). This movement is characterized by shifts between major and minor tonality, creating a sense of foreboding.

The dark tone of “Elegy” is continued in the fifth movment, “Dirge”. An anonymous 15th century writer is responsible for the text of this movement. The text is written in the old form of the Yorkshire dialect of Northern England. The “Dirge”, also titled the Lyke-Wake1 Dirge, is a traditional English song that tells the story of the soul’s travel through Purgatory and the hazards it faces along the way. The sixth movement is entitled “Hymn” and is set to text by Ben Johnson (1572–1637), a playwright and master dramatist, second only to Shakespeare in his own era. The text is addressed to the goddess Diana and is characterized by a fast tempo, with a much lighter mood made evident by pizzicato strings (in this recital, portrayed by the piano). The seventh and final movement of the piece for the whole ensemble is the “Sonnet” set to texts by the English Romantic composer, John Keats (1795–1821).

“Pastoral”, a setting of The Evening Quatrains by Charles Cotton (1630–1687) The day’s grown old; the fainting sun Has but a little way to run, And yet his steeds, with all his skill, Scarce lug the chariot down the hill. The shadows now so long do grow, That brambles like tall cedars show; Mole hills seem mountains, and the ant Appears a monstrous elephant. A very little, little flock Shades thrice the ground that it would stock; Whilst the small stripling following them Appears a mighty Polypheme. And now on benches all are sat, In the cool air to sit and chat, Till Phoebus, dipping in the west, Shall lead the world the way to rest.

“Nocturne”, Blow, bugle, blow by Alfred, Lord Tennyson (1809–1892) The splendour falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story: The long light shakes across the lakes, And the wild cataract leaps in glory: Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, Bugle blow; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. O hark, O hear! how thin and clear, And thinner, clearer, farther going! O sweet and far from cliff and scar The horns of Elfland faintly blowing! Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying: Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying. O love, they die in yon rich sky, They faint on hill or field or river: Our echoes roll from soul to soul, And grow for ever and for ever. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying.

“Elegy”, The Sick Rose by William Blake (1757–1827) O Rose, thou art sick! The invisible worm, That flies in the night In the howling storm, Has found out thy bed Of crimson joy: And his dark secret love Does thy life destroy.

“Dirge”, the anonymous Lyke-Wake Dirge (fifteenth century) This ae nighte, this ae nighte, Every nighte and alle, Fire and fleet and candle‑lighte, And Christe receive thy saule. When thou from hence away art past, Every nighte and alle, To Whinny‑muir thou com’st at last; And Christe receive thy saule. If ever thou gavest hosen and shoon, Every nighte and alle, Sit thee down and put them on; And Christe receive thy saule. If hosen and shoon thou ne’er gav’st nane Every nighte and alle, The whinnes sall prick thee to the bare bane; And Christe receive thy saule. From Whinny‑muir when thou may’st pass, Every nighte and alle, To Brig o’ Dread thou com'st at last; And Christe receive thy saule. From Brig o’ Dread when thou may'st pass, Every nighte and alle, To Purgatory fire thou com'st at last; And Christe receive thy saule. If ever thou gavest meat or drink, Every nighte and alle, The fire sall never make thee shrink; And Christe receive thy saule. If meat or drink thou ne’er gav'st nane, Every nighte and alle, The fire will burn thee to the bare bane; And Christe receive thy saule. This ae nighte, this ae nighte, Every nighte and alle, Fire and fleet and candle‑lighte, And Christe receive thy saule.

“Hymn”, Hymn to Diana by Ben Jonson (1572–1637) Queen and huntress, chaste and fair, Now the sun is laid to sleep, Seated in thy silver chair, State in wonted manner keep: Hesperus entreats thy light, Goddess excellently bright. Earth, let not thy envious shade Dare itself to interpose; Cynthia’s shining orb was made Heav’n to clear when day did close: Bless us then with wishèd sight, Goddess excellently bright. Lay thy bow of pearl apart, And thy crystal shining quiver; Give unto the flying hart Space to breathe, how short so-ever: Thou that mak’st a day of night, Goddess excellently bright.

“Sonnet”, To Sleep by John Keats (1795 –1821) O soft embalmer of the still midnight, Shutting, with careful fingers and benign, Our gloom‑pleas’d eyes, embower’d from the light, Enshaded in forgetfulness divine: O soothest Sleep! if so it please thee, close, In midst of this thine hymn my willing eyes. Or wait the “Amen” ere thy poppy throws Around my bed its lulling charities. Then save me, or the passèd day will shine Upon my pillow, breeding many woes, Save me from curious conscience, that still lords Its strength for darkness, burrowing like a mole; Turn the key deftly in the oilèd wards, And seal the hushèd casket of my Soul. All foreign language translations were completed independently by the artist in consultation with Prof. Dennis Helmrich.

I would like to thank Prof. Dawn Harris for guiding me through my time here at the School of Music and being a constant presence of support, encouragement, and good humor. Thanks to Prof. Sylvia Stone for always taking care of me. I am grateful to the faculty of Lyric Theatre @ Illinois, Dr. Julie Gunn, and Profs. Michael Tilley and Sarah Wigley Johnson for giving me a home away from home. Thanks to Prof. Dennis Helmrich for your insistence on quality singing and superb diction and informed performance practice and specifically for your assistance in editing my foreign language translations. And to my family, friends, and Charlie, your love and support mean the world to me.