7 minute read
Ebid, tenor
Carl Pantle, piano
Brylan Finley, mezzo-soprano
Advertisement
Thursday, April 27, 2023
7:30 pm
Recital Hall
Soirées musicales (1835)
La danza
La promessa
L’orgia
Verborgenheit (1888)
Intermezzo, from Liederkreis, op. 39, no. 2 (1840)
Es muss ein Wunderbares sein (1857)
Pause
Ich baue ganz, from Die Entführung aus dem Serail, K. 384 (1782)
Mandoline, op. 58, no. 1 (1891)
Sérénade italienne, op. 2, no. 5 (1883)
Les gars qui vont à la fête (1942) Bleuet (1939)
How Could I Ever Know, from The Secret Garden (1989)
Gioachino Rossini (1792–1868)
Hugo Wolf (1860–1902)
Robert Schumann (1810–1856)
Franz Liszt (1811–1886)
Wolfgang Amadè Mozart (1756–1791)
Gabriel Fauré (1845–1924)
Ernest Chausson (1855–1899)
Francis Poulenc (1899–1963)
Lucy Simon and Marsha Norman (1940–2022 and b. 1947)
Br ylan Finley, mezzo-soprano music.pacific.edu
This recital is presented as a requirement for the Bachelor of Music degree in music performance.
Filopatir Ebid is a fourth-year vocal performance major who studies with Daniel Ebbers and coaches with Eric Dudley. He also studies acting with James Haffner. An inspiring virtuoso tenor, he has ventured into many genres, ranging from opera to soul to R & B, and has found success as a freelance musician. He is involved with numerous professional ensembles, including Stockton Soul and Choral Audacity. He plans on pursuing a master’s program at Berklee College of Music in Valencia in the fall. Looking ahead, Filo hopes to release his own music and perform across the globe.
Rossini: Soirées musicales
La danza
Già la luna è in mezzo al mare, Mamma mia si salterà; L’ora è bella per danzare, Chi è in amor non mancherà!
Presto in danza a tondo a tondo, Donne mie venite quà, Un garzon bello e giocondo A ciascuna toccherà.
Fin che in ciel brilla una stella, E la luna splenderà; Il più bel con la più bella Tutta notte danzerà.
Mamma mia, mamma mia, già la luna è in mezzo al mare, mamma mia, mamma mia, mamma mia si salterà. Frinche frinche frinche frinche mamma mia, si salterà, La la ra la ra . . .
Salta, salta, gira, gira, Ogni coppia a cerchio va, Già s’avvanza, si ritira, E all’ assalto tornerà.
Serra, serra colla bionda, Colla bruna va quà e là, Colla rossa va a seconda, Colla smorta fermo sta.
Viva il ballo a tondo, a tondo Sono un rè, sono un Bascià, È il più bel piacer del mondo, La più cara voluttà!
Carlo Pepoli
The Dance
Already the moon dips into the sea, my goodness, she’ll jump right in; the hour is fine for dancing, no one in love would miss it!
Swiftly dancing round and round, my ladies, come here, a handsome and playful fellow will dance with everyone.
As long as the star shines in the sky, and the moon glows brightly, the most handsome with the fairest will dance all night.
My goodness, my goodness, already the moon dips into the sea, my goodness, my goodness, my goodness, she’ll jump right in. Faster, faster, faster, faster, my goodness, she’ll jump right in. La la ra la ra . . .
Jump, jump, turn, turn, each couple circling round, already advances, then retreats and return to the assault again.
Hold tightly, hold tightly to the blonde, with the brunette go here and there, with the redhead go for a turn, with the wallflower stand still.
Long live dancing round and round, I’m a king, I’m a pasha, it is the greatest pleasure on earth, the dearest passion!
La promessa
Ch’io mai vi possa Lasciar d’amare,
The Promise
That I will ever be able to stop loving you
No, nol credete, Pupille care; Nemmen per gioco V ’ingannerò.
Voi sole siete
Le mie faville, E voi sarete, Care pupille, Il mio bel foco Sin ch’io vivrò.
—Pietro Metastasio no, don’t believe it, dear eyes; not even to joke would I deceive you. You alone are my sparks, and you will be, dear eyes, my beautiful fire as long as I live.
L’orgia
Amiamo, cantiamo le donne e i liquor, gradita è la vita frà Bacco ed Amor.
Se Amore ho nel core, ho il vin nella testa, che gioia che festa, che amabile ardor.
Amando, scherzando, trincando liquor, m’avvampo, mi scampo da noie e dolor.
Cantiam, ridiam, gradita è la vita fra Bacco ed Amor!
Danziamo, cantiamo, alziamo il bicchier, ridiam, sfidiam i tristi pensier!
Regina divina, la madre d’amor, guiliva ravviva rinuova ogni cor.
Balzante, spumante con vivo bollor, e il vino divino del mondo signor.
The Party
Let’s love, let’s sing of women and liquor, life is a pleasure between Bacchus and Amor.
If love is in my heart and wine in my head, what joy, what a feast, what a lovely passion.
Loving, joking, drinking liquor, I burn, I escape from trouble and pain.
Let’s sing, let’s laugh, life is a pleasure, between Bacchus and Amor!
Let’s dance, let’s sing, let’s raise the glass, let’s laugh, let’s forget sad thoughts.
O divine queen, mother of love with joy revive, renew every heart!
Leaping, sparkling, foaming over with life and divine wine ruler of the world.
Già ballo traballo che odor, che vapor si beva ribeva con sacro furor.
Cantiam, ridiam, la vita e compita fra Bacco ed Amor!
Carlo Pepoli
Wolf: Verborgenheit
Lass, o Welt, o lass mich sein!
Locket nicht mit Liebesgaben
Lasst dies Herz alleine haben
Seine Wonne, seine Pein!
Was ich traure, weiss ich nicht, Es ist unbekanntes Wehe; Immerdar durch Tränen sehe
Ich der Sonne liebes Licht.
Oft bin ich mir kaum bewusst, Und die helle Freude zücket
Durch die Schwere, so mich drücket Wonniglich in meiner Brust.
Lass, o Welt, o lass mich sein!
Locket nicht mit Liebesgaben, Lasst dies Herz alleine haben
Seine Wonne, seine Pein!
Eduard Mörike
Schumann: Intermezzo
Dein Bildnis wunderselig
Hab’ ich im Herzensgrund, Das sieht so frisch und fröhlich Mich an zu jeder Stund’.
Mein Herz still in sich singet
Ein altes, schönes Lied, Das in die Luft sich schwinget
Und zu dir eilig zieht.
Joseph Freiherr von Eichendorff
Liszt: Es muss ein Wunderbares sein
Es muss ein Wunderbares sein
Um’s Lieben zweier Seelen,
Already I dance, I stagger, what smell, what haze so drink and drink again in a holy frenzy.
Let’s dance, let’s laugh, life is complete between Bacchus and Amor!
Seclusion
Let, O world, O let me be! Do not tempt with gifts of love, let this heart keep to itself its delight, its pain!
I do not know why I grieve, it is unknown woe; always through tears I see the sun’s beloved light.
Often I am scarcely aware, and bright joy erupts through the hardships that oppress me, bringing delight to my breast.
Let, O world, O let me be! Do not tempt with gifts of love, let this heart keep to itself its delight, its pain!
Interlude
I bear your beautiful likeness deep within my heart, it gazes at me every hour so freshly and happily.
My heart sings softly to itself an old and beautiful song that soars into the sky and swiftly wings its way to you.
A wondrous rapture must it be It must be a wonderful thing for the love of two souls,
Sich schliessen ganz einander ein, Sich nie ein Wort verhehlen,
Und Freud und Leid und Glück und Not So mit einander tragen; Vom ersten Kuss bis in den Tod
Sich nur von Liebe sagen.
Oscar von Redwitz
Mozart: Ich baue ganz auf deine Stärke
Ich baue ganz auf deine Stärke, Vertrau’, o Liebe! deiner Macht!
Denn, ach! was wurden nicht für Werke
Schon oft durch dich zu Stand gebracht!
Was aller Welt unmöglich scheint, Wird durch die Liebe doch vereint.
Johann Gottlieb Stephanie
Fauré: 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
Tourbillonnent dans l’extase
D’une lune rose et grise, Et la mandoline jase
Parmi les frissons de brise.
Paul Verlaine
Ernest Chausson: Sérénade italienne
Partons en barque sur la mer
Pour passer la nuit aux étoiles.
Vois, il souffle just assez d'air to enclose each other completely, never conceal a word,
Pour enfler la toile des voiles.
And joy and sorrow, happiness and woe, each bear with the other; from that first kiss until death they speak only of love.
I build upon your strength I build upon your strength, I rely, O love, upon your power! For ah! What works cannot be achieved have often been achieved by you! What all the world thinks impossible will be united by love.
Mandolin
The serenade givers and their fair listeners exchange sweet nothings beneath singing branches.
Tircis is there, Aminte is there, and there’s the tedious Clitandre too, and Damis who for many a cruel maid writes many a tender song.
Their short silk doublets, their long trailing gowns, their elegance, their joy, and their soft blue shadows
Whirl in the ecstasy of a rosy and gray and moon, and the mandolin jangles on in the shivers of the breeze.
Italian Serenade
Let us go by boat on the sea to spend the night among the stars. See, it blows just enough air to swell the canvas of the sails.
Le vieux pêcheur italien
Et ceux des fils qui nous conduisent Écoutent mais n'entendent rien
Aux mots que nos bouches se disent.
Sur la mer calme et sombre, vois, Nous pouvons échanger nos âmes, Et nul ne comprendra nos voix
Que la nuit, le ciel et les lames.
Paul Bourget
Poulenc: Les gars qui vont à la fête
Les gars qui vont à la fête
Ont mis la fleur au chapeau
Pour y boire chopinette
Y goûter le vin nouveau
Y tirer la carabin
Y sucer le berlingot
Sont rasés à la cuiller
Sont raclés dessous la peau
Ont passé la blouse neuve
Le faux-col en cellulo
Y faire danser les filles
Chez Julien le violoneur
Des polkas et des quadrilles Et le pas des patineurs
Le piston la clarinette
Attendrissent les costauds
Quand ils ont bu, se disputent Et se cognent sur la peau
Puis vont culbuter les filles
Au fossé sous les ormeaux
Reboivent puis se rebattent Jusqu’au chant du premier jô
Le lendemain on en trouve
Sont couchés dans le ruisseau. Maurice Fombeure
The old Italian fisherman and his two sons, who guide us, hear but do not understand the words that we speak to each other. On the calm, dark sea, see, we can exchange our souls, and no one will understand our voices except the night, the sky, and the waves.
The lads who’re off to the fair
The lads who’re going to the fair have put flowers in their hats
They’re off to drink pints and taste new wine
To fire rifles to suck candies
They’ve shaved, they’ve scraped beneath the skin
And put on new smocks and detachable celluloid collars
They’ll dance with the girls at Julian the fiddler’s
Polkas and quadrilles and the skaters’ dance
Cornet and clarinet move the macho lads
When they’ve drunk, they argue and punch each other
And go to tumble the girls in the ditch beneath the elms
They’ll drink again and fight again till the song of dawn is heard
The next day some are found asleep in the ditch.
