PRESENTS
UTRGV MASTER CHORALE SATURDAY, OCTOBER 21, 7 PM TSC PERFORMING ARTS CENTER, BROWNSVILLE
PROGRAM Patria Perduta (Lost Homeland) Va Pensiero (from Nabucco) Priidite, poklonimsya (from All-Night Vigil)
Giuseppe Verdi (1813-1901) Sergei Rachmaninoff (1873-1943)
Six Chansons 1. La Biche 3. Puisque tout passe 6. Verger
Paul Hindemith (1895-1963)
Kiddush with Ricardo Garcia-Diaz, tenor Bogoroditse Devo (from All-Night Vigil)
Kurt Weill (1900-1950) Rachmaninoff
Diane Walters, soprano Chansons de Ronsard Darius Milhaud (1892-1974) 1. A une Fontaine 4. Dieu vous gard’ Diane Walters, soprano A Rhyme for Angela (from Firebrand of Florence) September Song (from Knickerbocker Holiday) Daniel Hunter-Holly, baritone
Weill Weill
PROGRAM Patria Perduta (Lost Homeland) Chant de Nourrice (from Poemes de Juifs) La Perla Franz Liszt
Milaud (1811-1911)
Shayna Isaacs, soprano Wenn mein Schatz Hochzeit macht (from Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen)
Gustav Mahler (1860-1911)
Samantha Luna, soprano En el sendero ancho
Tania Leon (b. 1943)
UTRGV Chamber Singers Éjszaka
György Ligeti (1923-2006)
Israel in Egypt George Frideric Handel XI. Chorus (1685-1759) XII. Solo and Chorus Xavier Alonzo, baritone Vzbrannoy voyevode (from All-Night Vigil)
Rachmaninoff
PERSONNEL UTRGV Master Chorale Dr. Sean Taylor, conductor Dr. Juan Pablo Andrade, pianist Alexis Arce Maria Avila Preetika Bauskar Emilia Bautista Christian Briones Valentina Capistran Madelyne Cardoza Lydia Castillo Yazmin Cepeda Larissa Chavez Ramon Curzio Juan De La Torre Hector Duran Casey Edge Joanna Escobedo Miranda Gamez Xitlaly Garcia Alejandro Garcia Jonathan Gonzales Gael Gonzalez Jackie Gordillo Mia Gracia Jesse Guevara
Mariana Gutierrez Sarah Hinojosa Tristan Landgraf Angela Leal Leo Leal Rick Machuca Isaac Mancillas Ivan Melendez Julian Nino Taylor Perez Katy Quellhorst Eric Robledo-Pena Jocelyn Rocha Kristen Salinas Jennifer Sanchez Jessica Torres Gael Valdez Victoria Zamora
PROGRAM NOTES UTRGV Master Chorale with guest faculty and alumni soloists. Choral and vocal music by composers forced to leave their home country to find peace, safety, and prosperity. Translations Va Pensiero Fly, my thoughts, on wings of gold; go settle upon the slopes and the hills, where, soft and mild, the sweet airs of my native land smell fragrant! Greet the banks of the Jordan and Zion's toppled towers. Oh, my homeland, so lovely and so lost! Oh memory, so dear and so dead! Golden harp of the prophets of old, why do you now hang silent upon the willow? Rekindle the memories in our hearts, and speak of times gone by! Mindful of the fate of Solomon's temple, Cry out with raw lamentation, or else may the Lord strengthen you to bear these sufferings! Priidite, poklonimsya Amen. Come, let us worship God, our King. Come, let us worship and fall down before Christ, our King and our God. Come, let us worship and fall down before the very Christ, our King and our God. Come, let us worship and fall down before Him.
PROGRAM NOTES Translations La Biche O thou doe: what vistas of secular forest appear in thine eyes reflected; What confidence serene affected by transient shades of fear. Puisque tout passe And it all is borne on thy bounding course, for so gracile art thou. Nor comes aught to astound the impassive profound unawareness of thy brow.
Verger
Since all is passing, Let us make a passing melody. The one that quenches our thirst Will be right for us. Let us sing what leaves us With love and art; Let us be quicker Than the quick departure. The earth is nowhere so real a presence As mid thy branches O orchard blond And nowhere so airy as here in the pleasance Of lacy shadows on grassy pond. There we encounter that which we quested, That which sustains us and nourishes life And with it the passage manifested Of tenderness undying. But at thy center the spring’s limpid waters, Almost asleep in the fountain’s heart, Of this strange contrast scarce have taught us Since of them it is so truly part. Kiddish Blessed are You, Lord, our God, King of the universe, who brings fort the fruit of the vine. Blessed are You, Lord, our God, King of the universe, who instills in us the holiness of good deeds, cherishing us though His holy Sabbath, which He granted lovingly and gladly as a reminder of the act of Creation.
PROGRAM NOTES Translations It is the first among our days of sacred assembly recalling the Exodus from Egypt. Thus You have chosen us, from among all peoples, endowing us with the holiness by granting us Your holy Sabbath, lovingly and gladly. Blessed are You, Lord (praise Him and praise His name) who sanctifies the Sabbath. Bogoroditse Devo Rejoice, virgin mother of God, Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with you. Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb, for you have borne the Savior of our souls. À une Fontaine (Pierre de Ronsard) Listen to me, living fountain, from whom I oft have drunk, flat on my belly overlooking your bank, lazy in the cool breeze while the summer harvests Ceres' unclad breast and the air whimpers beneath the beaten wheat. So may you always be in religion to all those who drink from you or who pasture their cattle on your green banks. So may nymphs forever dance around you in the moonlit midnights.
PROGRAM NOTES Translations Dieu vous gard' (Pierre de Ronsard) God be with you, faithful messengers of Spring, swallows, hoopoes, cuckoos, little nightingales, turtledoves and wild birds who make the greenwood lively with a hundred sorts of warbles. God be with you, lovely daisies, beautiful roses, pretty little flowers, and you buds, once known as the blood of Ajax and Narcissus. And you thyme, anise, wild cherry. Welcome back. God be with you, multi-coloured troop of butterflies sucking the sweet grasses of the field, and you, new swarm of bees kissing the yellow and red flowers. A hundred thousand times I salute your sweet return. Oh, how I love this season and the sweet cackling on the banks after the winds and storms that have kept me shut in the house!
PROGRAM NOTES Translations Chant de Nourrice (Darius Milhaud) Sleep, my flower, my dear son. While I rock your cradle, I will tell you the story of your life. I will start by saying that you are a Hebrew, that your name is Israel, and that this is your title of nobility. Darling, when you are with those who do not know your people, do not be ashamed before their insults, but answer them aloud. I pray you, be fearless. Say, "Am I not descended from the holy ones, the son of the eternal people?", the son of the eternally persecuted people, unhappy like no other but still glorious, for it has endured for centuries and will endure forever. Do not despair, my darling son, because your people is in exile. Rather, believe that the sun of justice will shine on us one day. Never forget that we have a country, very far away, and that calls out to the soul of all Jews. On its mountains, in its delicious fields, you will become whatever you want to be: vinedresser, shepherd, planter, gardener, you will live in peace... Sleep, my flower, my dear son.
PROGRAM NOTES Translations La Perla (Prinzessin Therese von Hohenlohe) I am the white daughter of the sea, I am the shell’s token of love. In my dark native prison I live safely without pain. A loving mother encloses me in her breast, Her face so full of delight. I do not feel the breeze, I do not see [he light, but still I do not ask for more freedom. Ah! if by force from my sea-bottom I am taken, brought up above, I receive the light, I breathe the air, but still I sigh for captivity! In a base market I pass, sold and resold with the new day, someone who does not care for my beauty, another who caresses it, another who covets it. Until at last, perhaps, in a halo woven of thorns, I will shine, and like a tear hanging from the eye, the pain of exile I will take upon myself. Wenn mein Schatz Hochzeit macht (Gustav Mahler) When my darling has her wedding day, Has her joyous wedding day, I will have my day of mourning! I will go to my little room, Dark little room, Weep, weep over my darling,
PROGRAM NOTES Translations Over my dear darling! Little flower blue! Wither not! Little bird sweet! You sing on the green heath. Alas, how is the world so fair! Chirp! Chirp! Sing not; bloom not! For Spring is certainly over! All singing is now over! At night when I go to sleep, I think of my sorrow! Of my sorrow! En el sendero ancho (Iraida Iturralde) On the wide and open path of stars We are a tiny marmot a dry scab, a blemish on the edge of the galaxy. On this wide path, there are fields and hills that shine forever, there are seas of harmony, a purple fragrance, an endless mass of love. Here, our dream perturbed, banished, Removed from its creator, Only a child perceives the beauty, the warm, white light, the lush, mysterious gaza of a dazzling verse. The flesh soon surrenders, the shaft becomes too narrow to envision magic. But there are beings who fly with the grace of swans, the gentle smile still fastened to the soul’s bright glow.
PROGRAM NOTES Translations Éjszaka (after a poem by Sándor Weöres) Lots of thorns: silence. I am silent: the beating of my heart... Night. Vzbrannoy voyevode To Thee, the victorious Leader of triumphant hosts, we Thy servants, delivered from evil, offer hymns of thanksgiving, O Theotokos! Since Thou dost possess invincible might, set us free from all calamities, so that we may cry to Thee: “Rejoice, O unwedded Bride!”
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