4/19/23 Student Senior Recital, Brylan Finley

SENIOR VOICE RECITAL

Brylan Finley,

Carl Pantle, piano

Bergen Finley, guitar

Filo Ebid, tenor

Wednesday, April 19, 2023

7:30 pm

Recital Hall

mezzo-soprano

Una voce poco fa, from Il barbiere di Siviglia (1816)

Allerseelen, op. 10, no. 2 (1885)

Banalités (1940)

Hôtel Voyage à Paris

Cabaret Songs

O Tell Me the Truth about Love (1938) Funeral Blues (1937)

Calypso (1939)

I’m in the Mood for Love (1935)

Cheek to Cheek (1934–35)

I Put a Spell on You (1956)

Misty (1954)

Taylor, the Latte Boy (2004)

Pause

Gioachino Rossini (1792–1868)

Richard Strauss (1864–1949)

Francis Poulenc (1899–1963)

Benjamin Britten (1913–1976)

Jimmy McHugh (1894–1969)

Irving Berlin (1888–1989)

Jalacy “Screamin’ Jay” Hawkins (1929–2000)

Erroll Garner (b. 1935)

Marcy Heisler and Zina Goldrich (b. 1967 and b. 1964)

This recital is presented as a requirement for the Bachelor of Music degree in vocal performance.

Electrifying twenty-two-year old mezzosoprano and vocal instructor Brylan Finley is a passionate vocal performance major studying with Daniel Ebbers and Virginia Kelsey at the Pacific Conservatory of Music. Brylan considers music her escape from reality and a meditative way to enjoy each day to the fullest. This enthusiastic musician craves immersion in the world of professional operatic performance and challenges conventional age stereotypes. She made her professional solo operatic debut as Julia Bertram in Mansfield Park with Opera Modesto in 2020 and won first place in the Stockton Opera Guild’s eighteen- to twenty-fiveyear-old category.

music.pacific.edu

Rossini: Il barbiere di Siviglia

Una voce poco fa

ROSINA

Una voce poco fa qui nel cor mi risuonò il mio cor ferito è già e Lindor fu che il piagò.

Sì, Lindoro mio sarà lo giurai, la vincerò . . .

Il tutor ricuserà io l’ingegno aguzzerò Alla fin s’accheterà e contenta io resterò.

Sì, Lindoro mio sarà; lo giurai, la vincerò. Sì, Lindoro mio sarà; lo giurai, sì.

Io sono docile, son rispettosa, sono obbediente, dolce, amorosa; mi lascio reggere, mi fo guidar.

Ma, ma se mi toccano dov’è il mio debole sarò una vipera, sarò e cento trappole prima di cedere farò giocar, ecc.

Cesare Sterbini

Strauss: 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,

The Barber of Seville

ROSINA

A voice a while back echoes here in my heart; already my heart has been pierced and Lindoro inflicted the wound.

Yes, Lindoro shall be mine; I swear it, I will win . . .

My guardian will refuse me; I shall sharpen all my wits. In the end he will be calmed and I shall rest content...

Yes, Lindoro shall be mine; I swear it, I will win. Yes, Lindoro shall be mine; I swear it, yes.

I am docile, I’m respectful, I’m obedient, sweet, loving; I let myself be ruled, I let myself be guided. But, but if they touch me on my weak spot, I’ll be a viper and a hundred tricks

I’ll play before I yield, etc.

All Souls Day

Set on the table the fragrant mignonettes, bring in the last red asters, and let us talk of love again as once in May. Give me your hand to press in secret, and if people see, I do not care,

Gib mir nur einen deiner süßen Blicke, Wie einst im Mai.

Es blüht und duftet heut auf jedem Grabe,

Ein Tag im Jahr ist ja den Toten frei, Komm am mein Herz, daß ich dich wieder habe, Wie einst im Mai.

Hermann von Gilm zu Rosenegg

Poulenc: Banalités

Hôtel

Ma chambre a la forme d’une cage

Le soleil passe son bras par la fenêtre

Mais moi qui veux fumer pour faire des mirages

J’allume au feu du jour ma cigarette

Je ne veux pas travailler je veux fumer

Guillaume Apollinaire

Voyage à Paris

Ah! la charmante chose

Quitter un pays morose Pour Paris

Paris joli

Qu’un jour

Dut créer l’Amour

Ah! la charmante chose

Quitter un pays morose Pour Paris

Guillaume Apollinaire

give me but one of your sweet glances as once in May.

Each grave today has flowers and is fragrant, One day each year is devoted to the dead; Come to my heart and so be mine again, As once in May.

Hotel

My room is shaped like a cage the sun slips its arm through the window but I who want to smoke to make mirages

I light my cigarette on daylight’s fire I do not want to work I want to smoke

Trip to Paris

Oh! how delightful to leave a dismal place for Paris charming Paris that one day love must have made Oh! how delightful to leave a dismal place for Paris