11.02.2024 SNR Stahl Program Notes

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Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was an Austrian composer, widely recognized as one of the greatest composers in the history of Western music. (Britannica) On top of his symphonies and instrumental music, his Italian operas are well known and regularly performed today. Composed in Salzburg in 1775, Conossequio,conrispettowas originally written for tenor voice and orchestra as a concert aria This aria is addressed to an old fool and is full of ironic compliments with humorous asides.

Con ossequio, con rispetto, con rispetto io m’inchino e mi profondo a un sapiente si perfetto, che l’egual non v’è nel mondo, e l’eguale non verrà (per l’orgoglio e l’ignoranza, per la gran bestialità).

With obsequiousness, with respect with respect I bow, and then yet deeper whose equal does not exist in all the world and whose equal will not appear (as far as his pride, ignorance, and real stupidity).

(Translated by Thomas Luna)

Franz Schubert was an Austrian composer who bridged the worlds of Classical and Romantic music, noted for the melody and harmony in his songs (lieder) and chamber music. (Britannica) In his career, Schubert wrote over 600 songs in addition to pieces in many other genres. In a Schubert song, the piano is an active supporter of the voice as it sets the scene for the music. He was an extremely influential composer who inspired composers such as Mendelssohn, Brahms, Liszt, and many more. Schubert set NachtundTräumefrom text by Matthäus Karl von Collin in 1822 The floating vocal line that sits above the flowing accompaniment of alternating chords creates a quiet, nocturnal mood and depicts the night that Collin describes.

Heil’ge Nacht, du sinkest nieder; nieder wallen auch die Träume, wie dein Mondlicht durch die Räume, durch der Menschen stille Brust

Die belauschen si emit Lust; rufen, wenn der Tag erwacht: kehre wieder, holde Nacht! holde Träume, kehret wieder!

Holy night, you are sinking down; dreams too are floating down, like your moonlight through the expanses of space, through the silent breasts of human beings.

Who eavesdrops on them with pleasure; they call when day awakes: come back holy night! beauteous dreams, come back again!

(Translated by Malcolm Wren)

Charles Gounod was a French composer noted particularly for his operas, of which the most famous are Faust and Roméo et Juliette. While Gounod wrote over 100 secular French songs over all stages of his life, the earliest period of his life includes many of the songs that are considered his best works. (Britannica) LeSoir , a French mélodie written in 1842 showcases Gounod’s ability to compose in the Romantic style. This song depicts the dusk turning to night and the beauty that the evening contains

Le soir ramène le silence.

Assis sur ces rochers déserts, Je suis dans le vague des airs

Le char de la nuit qui s’avance.

Vénus se lève à l’horizon; À mes pieds l’étoile amoureuse

De sa lueur mystérieuse

Blanchit les tapis de gazon.

The evening brings back the silence. Seated upon these rocks deserted, I contemplate the chariot of the night approaches.

Venus itself rises on the horizon; at my feet the star of love with its mysterious glow whitens the carpet of grass.

Tout à coup détaché de cieux,

Un rayon de l’astre nocturne, Glissant sur mon front taciturne, Vient mollement toucher mes yeux.

Doux reflet d’une globe de flamme, Charmant rayon que me veuz-tu?

Viens-tu dans mon sein abattu

Porter la lumière à mon âme?

Decends-tu pour me révéler

Des mondes le divin mystère?

Ces secrets cachés dans la sphere

Où le jour va te rappeler?

Viens-tu dévoiler l’avenir

Au cœur fatigue qui t’implore?

Rayon divin, es-tu l’aurore

Du jour qui ne doit pas finir?

All of a sudden from the heavens detaches a ray of light from the evening star, falling upon my silent brow, comes to touch my eyes gently

Gentle reflection of a fiery orb, charming light, what do you wish of me?

Have you come to my weary breast to bring the light to my soul?

Have you come down in order to reveal to me the divine mystery of the world?

Those secrets hidden in the sphere to where daylight will summon you?

Have you come to unveil the future to a weary heart that implores you?

Ray divine, are you the dawn of the day that will never end?

(Translated by Christopher Goldsack)

Gerald Finzi is a 20th century English composer best known for his vocal music. Partially due to the loss of all three of his brothers at a young age, Finzi had a bleak outlook on life which led to some of his music displaying his vision of a world unsullied by sophistication and nostalgia. (Oxford Music) Finzi also experienced personal health problems as he learned in 1951 that he was suffering from Hodgkin’s Disease He continued to work between treatments and died 5 years later after catching chickenpox on a trip he took with his friend, Ralph Vaughan Williams. According to Finzi Trust, AYoungMan’sExhortation is Finzi’s only true song cycle for voice and piano, non-narrative yet tracking a path from youthful vigour and idealism to a peaceful farewell to life beneath the autumn trees. The song cycle is set to text written by Thomas Hardy, an English writer best known for his novels and his poetry. In his writing, Hardy frequently challenges societal norms and morality, especially in his later works. While both the text and music of A Young Man’s Exhortation display a youthful sincerity, the moments of moving intensity shine through displaying the emotions of life.

I. A Young Man’s Exhortation

Call off your eyes from care

By some determined deftness; put forth joys

Dear as excess without the core that cloys, And charm Life's lourings fair.

Exalt and crown the hour

That girdles us, and fill it full with glee, Blind glee, excelling aught could ever be, Were heedfulness in power.

Send up such touching strains

That limitless recruits from Fancy's pack

Shall rush upon your tongue, and tender back

All that your soul contains.

For what do we know best?

That a fresh love-leaf crumpled soon will dry, And that men moment after moment die, Of all scope dispossest.

If I have seen one thing

It is the passing preciousness of dreams; That aspects are within us; and who seems Most kingly is the King

II. Ditty

Beneath a knap where flown Nestlings play, Within walls of weathered stone, Far away From the files of formal houses, By the bough the firstling browses, Lives a Sweet: no merchants meet, No man barters, no man sells Where she dwells.

Upon that fabric fair "Here is she!" Seems written everywhere Unto me. But to friends and nodding neighbours, Fellow wights in lot and labours, Who descry the times as I, No such lucid legend tells Where she dwells.

Should I lapse to what I was Ere we met; (Such will not be, but because Some forget Let me feign it) - none would notice That where she I know by rote is Spread a strange and withering change, Like a drying of the wells Where she dwells.

To feel I might have kissed - Loved as trueOtherwhere, nor Mine have missed My life through, Had I never wandered near her, Is a smart severe - severer In the thought that she is nought, Even as I, beyond the dells Where she dwells.

And Devotion droops her glance To recall What bond-servants of Chance We are all. I but found her in that, going On my errant path unknowing, I did not out-skirt the spot That no spot on earth excelsWhere she dwells!

When we lay where Budmouth Beach is, O, the girls were fresh as peaches, With their tall and tossing figures and their eyes of blue and brown!

And our hearts would ache with longing As we paced from our sing-songing, With a smart Clink! Clink! up the Esplanade and down.

They distracted and delayed us

By the pleasant pranks they played us,

And what marvel, then, if troopers, even of regiments of renown,

On whom flashed those eyes divine, O, Should forget the countersign, O, As we tore Clink! Clink! back to camp above the town.

Do they miss us much, I wonder, Now that war has swept us sunder, And we roam from where the faces smile to where the faces frown?

And no more behold the features Of the fair fantastic creatures, And no more Clink! Clink! past the parlours of the town?

Shall we once again there meet them?

Falter fond attempts to greet them?

Will the gay sling-jacket glow again beside the muslin gown?

Will they archly quiz and con us With a sideway glance upon us, While our spurs Clink! Clink! up the Esplanade and down?

IV. Her Temple

Dear, think not that they will forget you:

- If craftsmanly art should be mine I will build up a temple, and set you Therein as its shrine.

They may say: "Why a woman such honour?"

- Be told, "O so sweet was her fame, That a man heaped this splendour upon her; None now knows his name."

V. The Comet at Yell’ham

It bends far over Yell'ham Plain, And we, from Yell'ham Height, Stand and regard its fiery train, So soon to swim from sight.

It will return long years hence, when As now its strange swift shine Will fall on Yell'ham; but not then On that sweet form of thine.

III. Budmouth Dears

Stephen Sondheim was an American composer and lyricist whose brilliance in matching lyrics, music, and the story in dramatic situations broke new ground for Broadway musical theater. Through his lyrical cleverness and openness to dramatic invention he carved out space for ambivalence, irony, and other strong emotions in a popular art form that previously leaned heavily on sentimental simplicity. (LA Times) Sondheim is responsible for countless musical hits on Broadway including Sweeney Todd.

Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street is the unsettling tale of a Victorian-era barber who returns home to London after fifteen years of exile to take revenge on the corrupt judge who ruined his life. When revenge eludes him, Sweeney swears vengeance on humanity and begins a killing spree on all his clients. (Stage Agent) TheContesttakes place in the first act of the musical and is sung by Pirelli, the self-proclaimed ‘King of the Barbers’. When Sweeney Todd passes the Italian barber, Pirelli, performing in the square, a shaving competition ensues.

Now signorini, signori, we mix-a da lather, but first-a you gather around,

Signorini, signori, you looking a man who have had-a da glory to shave-a da Pope!

Mister Sweeney whoever – I beg-a your pardon –I’ll probably say it was only a cardinal. Nope!

It was-a da Pope!

To shave-a da face.

To pull-a da toot

Require da grace

And not-a da brute

For if-a you slip, you nick da skin, you clip-a da chin, you rip-a da lip a bit and dat’s-a da trut’!

To shave-a da face

Or even a part

Widout it-a smart

Require da heart.

It take-a da art.

I show you a chart I study-a starting in my yout’!

To cut-a da hair, To trim-a da beard,

To make-a da bristle clean like a whistle, Dis is from early infancy da talent give to me by God!

It take-a da skill, It take-a da brains, It take-a da will

To take-a da pains,

It take-a da pace, It take-a da grace!

The winner is Todd!

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