Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart is perhaps one of the most famous composers of all time, known for his piano works, operas, chamber music, symphonies, and more. At only 17, Mozart composed his motet, Exsultate,jubilate , a three-movement work for solo voice and strings. After hearing the great castrato Venanzio Rauzzini at the premiere of his opera, Lucio Silla, Mozart wrote Exsultate, jubilate for his moving voice. In modern days, the motet is frequently sung by sopranos. Mozart brilliantly set the joyous text to music, with playful coloratura in the first and final movements. A recitative leads us into the second movement, a peaceful tune about the Virgin Mary. He ends with Alleluia, the movement most frequently performed from this motet. Though it has only one word, the music has captivated audiences for centuries with joyful coloratura lines and conversation between the singer and accompaniment.
Exsultate, jubilate, O vos animae beatae exsultate, jubilate, dulcia cantica canendo; cantui vestro respondendo psallant aethera cum me.
Fulget amica dies, jam fugere et nubila et procellae; exortus est justis inexspectata quies. Undique obscura regnabat nox, surgite tandem laeti qui timuistis adhuc, et jucundi aurorae fortunatae. frondes dextera plena et lilia date.
Tu virginum corona, tu nobis pacem dona, tu consolare affectus, unde suspirat cor.
Alleluja.
Text by unknown
Translation by Elizabeth Parcells
Rejoice, be glad, O you blessed souls, Rejoice, be glad, Singing sweet songs; In response to your singing Let the heavens sing forth with me.
The friendly day shines forth, both clouds and storms have fled now; for the righteous, there has arisen an unexpected calm.
Dark night reigned everywhere [before]; you who feared till now, and joyful for this lucky dawn give garlands and lilies with full right hand.
You, o crown of virgins, grant us peace, console our feelings, from which our hearts sigh.
Alleluja.
Known for his tuneful melodies, Franz Schubert was a composer of the late Classical and early Romantic periods. He composed hundreds of works in his short lifetime, 600 of which were German Lieder. Schubert was a master of expression, including imagery and text painting in almost all of his works. He cared deeply about poetry, having worked with over 90 poets in his lifetime. Schubert worked especially closely with Willhelm Müller. The two collaborated for Schubert’s most influential song cycles, Die Schöne Müllerin and Winterreise, as well as for verses 1-4 and 7 in DerHirtaufdemFelsen . Verses 5-6 of this piece were written by Karl August Varnhagen von Ense.
During the last month of his life, Schubert finished writing DerHirtaufdemFelsen , an unusual piece set for soprano, piano, and clarinet. He composed the song for soprano Anna Milder-Hauptmann, to thank her for attempting to get one of his operas staged in Berlin. The piece is around 10 minutes long, which is far longer than most Lieder, with an almost 2-minute long introduction and multiple interludes for piano and clarinet. The voice and clarinet weave together seamlessly throughout the piece, echoing each other as the Shepherd hears in the poem. The audience is carried along with the echoes, through the shepherd's journey of singing, loneliness, grief, hope, and joy.
Wenn auf dem höchsten Fels ich steh', In's tiefe Tal hernieder seh', Und singe,
Fern aus dem tiefen dunkeln Tal Schwingt sich empor der Widerhall Der Klüfte.
Je weiter meine Stimme dringt, Je heller sie mir wieder klingt Von unten.
Mein Liebchen wohnt so weit von mir, Drum sehn' ich mich so heiß nach ihr Hinüber.
In tiefem Gram verzehr ich mich, Mir ist die Freude hin, Auf Erden mir die Hoffnung wich, Ich hier so einsam bin.
So sehnend klang im Wald das Lied, So sehnend klang es durch die Nacht, Die Herzen es zum Himmel zieht Mit wunderbarer Macht.
Der Frühling will kommen, Der Frühling, meine Freud', Nun mach' ich mich fertig Zum Wandern bereit.
When I stand on the highest rock, Look down into the deep valley And sing,
From far away in the deep dark valley The echo from the ravines Rises up.
The further my voice carries, The clearer it echoes back to me From below.
My sweetheart lives so far from me, Therefore I long so to be with her Over there.
Deep grief consumes me, My joy has fled, All earthly hope has vanished, I am so lonely here.
The song rang out so longingly through the wood, Rang out so longingly through the night, That is draws hearts to heaven With wondrous power.
Spring is coming, Spring, my joy, I shall now make ready to journey.
Text by Willhelm Müller and Karl August Varnhagen von Ense
Translation by Richard Stokes
Having composed over 150 French art songs, Poulenc is considered by many to be the last great composer of French mélodie. He was inspired by the work of Schubert, Ravel, and Stravinsky, but was especially interested in the unique sound of Debussy. He first worked with baritone Pierre Bernac in 1926. Poulenc composed over 90 songs specifically for Bernac, and they performed together for over 25 years. Following Poulenc’s death, Bernac wrote two books, The Interpretation of French Song (1970) and Francis Poulenc: The Man and His Songs (1977). These books are widely renowned for offering composer-specific performance suggestions for singers, interpretations of composer’s techniques, and technical advice for singing in French. His insights guide singers to perform Poulenc as truthfully as possible.
Poulenc had a special appreciation of poetry, quoting “The musical setting of a poem should be an act of love, never a marriage of convenience.” Despite this, he was not a fan of Jean Moréas, who wrote the poetry for Airs chantés . Poulenc wrote this set as a mockery of Moréas’ poetry and to his friends who enjoyed it, setting the text so fast that it is hard to understand, and even cutting a few words short in the song cycle. He set the music to go ‘against’ the text, as he disliked it so much, never expecting the set to receive such praise.
Air romantique begins with a rush, as there is no introduction- the singer and pianist simply begin and set off. This could be Poulenc’s way of ‘hitting’ the audience with his anti-cycle of song, but it could be argued that this choice fits the text well, moving suddenly and quickly, like a storm. Air champêtre is much lighter than the first in terms of texture, and again contains a moment of assumed mockery turned text painting. In the line, “Perdu sous la mousse à moitié,” Poulenc cuts the word ‘mousse’ short, then repeats it, which has been considered to be one of his jokes. However, this, too, could be argued, that it fits with the text, hiding half of the word, like the face is half-hidden beneath the moss.
Air grave is written in a much slower tempo than the rest of the set, warding off the negative feelings that the poet was overcome with. Much of the piece was written very tonally, but Poulenc reminds us of his skillful use of modulation in the middle section, where the music grows in intensity, as the poet swears his control over nature, before settling back down where the song started in F minor. Air vif picks the listeners right back up, with the extreme tempo marking of 192 bpm. Bernac warns us in The Interpretation of French Song that the text is not important, but the singer must maintain the strict dynamic and tempo markings. The set ends with the voice soaring up and down an octave and a half in only 4 measures, before finishing on a held-out C, as the piano brings us back down, settling the wind that the voice was echoing.
Air romantique
J’allais dans la campagne avec le vent d’orage, Sous le pâle matin, sous les nuages bas, Un corbeau ténébreux escortait mon voyage Et dans les flaques d’eau retentissaient mes pas
. La foudre à l’horizon faisait courir sa flamme Et l’Aquilon doublait ses longs gémissements; Mais la tempête était trop faible pour mon âme, Qui couvrait le tonnerre avec ses battements.
De la dépouille d’or du frêne et de l’érable L’Automne composait son éclatant butin, Et le corbeau toujours, d’un vol inexorable, M’accompagnait sans rien changer à mon destin.
Air champêtre
Belle source, je veux me rappeler sans cesse, Qu’un jour guidé par l’amitié Ravi,
I walked in the countryside with the stormy wind, Beneath the pale morning, beneath the low clouds, A sinister crow followed me on my way And my steps splashed through the water puddles.
The lightning on the horizon unleashed its flame And the North Wind intensified its wailing; But the storm was too weak for my soul Which drowned the thunder with its throbbing.
From the golden spoils of ash and maple Autumn amassed her brilliant plunder, And the crow still, with inexorable flight, Without changing anything, accompanied me to my fate.
Lovely spring, I shall never cease to remember That on a day, guided by entranced friendship,
j’ai contemplé ton visage, ô déesse, Perdu sous la mousse à moitié.
Que n’est-il demeuré, cet ami que je pleure, O nymphe, à ton culte attaché, Pour se mêler encore au souffle qui t’effleure Et répondre à ton flot caché.
Air grave
Ah! fuyez à présent, malheureuses pensées!
O! colère, ô remords! Souvenirs qui m’avez les deux tempes pressées, de l’étreinte des morts.
Sentiers de mousse pleins, vaporeuses fontaines, grottes profondes, voix des oiseaux et du vent lumières incertaines des sauvages sous-bois.
Insectes, animaux, Beauté future, Ne me repousse pas Ô divine nature, Je suis ton suppliant
Ah! fuyez à présent, colère, remords!
Air vif
Le trésor du verger et le jardin en fête, Les fleurs des champs, des bois éclatent de plaisir Hélas! et sur leur tête le vent enfle sa voix.
Mais toi, noble océan que l’assaut des tourmentes Ne saurait ravager, Certes plus dignement lorsque tu te lamentes Tu te prends à songer.
I gazed on your face, O goddess, Half hidden beneath the moss.
Had he but remained, this friend whom I mourn, O nymph, a devotee of your cult, To mingle once more with the breeze that caresses you,
And to respond to your hidden waters!
Ah! begone now, Unhappy thoughts!
O anger! O remorse!
Memories that oppressed
My two temples
With the embrace of the dead.
Paths full of moss, Vaporous fountains, Deep grottoes, voices Of birds and wind, Fitful lights
Of the wild undergrowth.
Insects, animals, Beauty to come –Do not repulse me, O divine nature, I am your suppliant.
Ah! begone now, Anger, remorse!
The treasures of the orchard and the festive garden, The flowers of the field, of the woods Burst forth with pleasure Alas! and above their head the wind swells its voice.
But you, noble ocean whom the assault of storms Cannot ravage, You will assuredly, with more dignity, Lose yourself in dreams when you lament.
Text
by Jean
Moréas
Translation by Richard Stokes
Richard Strauss is a composer of the late Romantic and early modern periods, known for his Lieder, tone poems, and operas. He was strongly influenced by the music of Wagner and Liszt, particularly by their thick orchestration. His Lieder followed similar techniques, with several having been written for his wife, soprano Pauline de Ahna. The piano accompaniment is often very thick and rich, reminiscent of an orchestra, inspiring many of his Lieder to be arranged into orchestrated versions. He blurred the lines between art song and opera, with the use of expansive vocal lines, dramatic writing, and sometimes excessive use of coloratura.
Strauss composed 16 operas, and his best-known works were those in which he collaborated with librettist Hugo von Hofmannsthal. DerRosenkavalier is arguably Strauss’ most famous opera, which includes all aspects listed above. Premiering in 1911, it tells the story of Sophie, a young woman who was expected to marry Baron Ochs. However, when Count Octavian is tasked to present a ceremonial silver rose to Sophie, the two fall in love. With the help of Marschallin, Sophie leaves her fiancé and comes to be with Octavian. ThePresentationoftheRoseis one of the opera's highlights, where Octavian and Sophie first meet. Sophie is delighted at the rose’s beauty and swears she will never be as happy as she is in that moment, and Octavian agrees, enamored of Sophie. The two sing over rich chromatic chords, flowering melodies and rapid tremolos. Both characters are in a state of bliss by the end of the song, feeling as though the rose brought them a taste of Heaven, and swearing to never forget the moment until they die.
Strauss’ Op. 17 was composed in 1886, including six songs for soprano, with poetry by Adolf Friedrich von Schack. The most popular of the set, and perhaps one of Strauss’ most popular songs, is Ständchen . The piece begins with broken arpeggiated figures in the piano, floating high as if the music is soaring through the lover’s window. The singer begins with a light tone, waking the lover and inviting them to fly outside with them so softly that nothing can be heard. The lightness in the music creates a sense of excitement, with urgency in the neverending movement. The third stanza finally moves into a lower register, as the singer invites the lover to sit down with them until the night is over, expressing that even nature will forever dream of their love.
Brentano Lieder, composed in 1918, is a staple of many coloratura sopranos’ vocal repertoire. Despite this, it is rarely performed in full, as it requires such broad use of techniques. Part of the set, including Amor, is written for light voices with excessive coloratura. Amoris reminiscent of Zerbinetta from Strauss’ Ariadne auf Naxos, with extreme vocal demands, including a two-octave range, quick coloratura, effective storytelling, and a broad use of dynamics. The song tells the story of Cupid in a new light, warning the listeners of his dangerous and crafty spells of love. Text painting is included in the coloratura, highlighting the quick growth of Cupid’s flames of love, and in the trills, echoing his laughter at the chaos he created.
The Presentation of the Rose
Octavian
Mir ist die Ehre wiederfahren daß ich der hoch- und wohlgeborenen Jungfer Braut, in meines Herrn meines Vetters Namen, dessen zu Lerchernau Namen die Rose seiner Liebe überreichen darf.
Sophie
Ich bin Euer Liebden sehr verbundenIch bin Euer Liebden in aller Ewigkeit verbunden.
Hat einen starken Geruch. Wie Rosen, wie lebendige.
Octavian
Ja, ist ein Tropfen persischen Rosenöls darein getan.
Sophie
Wie himmlische, nicht irdische, wie Rosen vom hochheiligen Paradies. Ist Ihm nicht auch? Ist wie ein Gruss vom Himmel. Ist bereits zu stark, als dass mans ertragen kann. Zieht einen nach, als lägen Stricke um das Herz.
Wo war ich schon einmal und war so selig?
Octavian
Wo war ich schon einmal und war so selig?
Sophie
Dahin muss ich zurück! und müsst’ ich völlig sterben auf dem Weg!
Allein ich sterb’ ja nicht. Das ist ja weit. Ist Zeit und Ewigkeit in einem sel’gen Augenblick, den will ich nie vergessen bis an meinen Tod.
Octavian
Ich war ein Bub’, da hab’ ich die noch nicht gekannt.
Wer bin denn ich? Wie komm’ denn ich zu ihr? Wie kommt denn sie zu mir? Wär’ ich kein Mann, die Sinne möchten mir vergehn. Das ist ein seliger Augenblick, den will ich nie vergessen bis an meinen Tod.
Octavian
To me has fallen the honor of presenting to the highborn bride, in the name of my cousin of Lerchernau, the rose of his love.
Sophie
I am most obliged to your LordshipI am eternally obliged to your Lordship It has a strong scent of roses: real ones!
Octavian
Yes, there’s a drop of Persian attar of roses in it.
Sophie
Like roses of heaven, not of earth – like roses of holy paradies, don’t you think so?
It’s like a greeting from heaven. ‘Tis already too strong to bear.
It draws one as though there were reins around one’s heart
Where and when have I been so happy?
Octavian
Where and when have I been so happy?
Sophie
I must return there, yes, even if I should die on the way!
But I shall not die. That is far away. There’s time and eternity
In this moment of bliss, and I’ll not forget it til I die.
Octavian
I was boy, and did not know her yet. Who am I then? How is it that I come to her? How is it that she comes to me? Were I not a man, then I should lose my senses. And I’ll not forget it til I die.
Libretto by Hugo von Hofmannsthal
Translation by Maria Cebotari
Ständchen
Mach auf, mach auf! doch leise, mein Kind, Um Keinen vom Schlummer zu wecken!
Kaum murmelt der Bach, kaum zittert im Wind
Ein Blatt an den Büschen und Hecken; Drum leise, mein Mädchen, daß nichts sich regt,
Nur leise die Hand auf die Klinke gelegt!
Mit Tritten, wie Tritte der Elfen so sacht, Um über die Blumen zu hüpfen, Flieg leicht hinaus in die Mondscheinnacht, Zu mir in den Garten zu schlüpfen!
Rings schlummern die Blüten am rieselnden
Bach
Und duften im Schlaf, nur die Liebe ist wach.
Sitz nieder! Hier dämmert's geheimnisvoll
Unter den Lindenbäumen.
Die Nachtigall uns zu Häupten soll
Von unseren Küssen träumen
Und die Rose, wenn sie am Morgen erwacht, Hoch glühn von den Wonneschauern der Nacht.
Amor
An dem Feuer saß das Kind Amor, Amor
Und war blind;
Mit dem kleinen Flügel fächelt
In die Flammen er und lächelt, Fächelt, lächelt, schlaues Kind!
Ach, der Flügel brennt dem Kind! Amor, Amor
Läuft geschwind!
„O wie ihn die Glut durchpeinet!“ Flügelschlagend laut er weinet; In der Hirtin Schoß entrinnt Hilfeschreiend das schlaue Kind.
Und die Hirtin hilft dem Kind, Amor, Amor
Bös und blind.
Hirtin, sieh, dein Herz entbrennet, Hast den Schelmen nicht gekennet. Sieh, die Flamme wächst geschwinde.
Hüt dich vor dem schlauen Kind! Fächle, lächle, schlaues Kind!
Open up, open up! but softly, my child, So that no one’s roused from slumber!
The brook hardly murmurs, the breeze hardly moves
A leaf on the bushes and hedges; Gently, my love, so nothing shall stir, Gently with your hand as you lift the latch!
With steps as light as the steps of elves, As they hop their way over flowers, Flit out into the moonlit night, Slip out to me in the garden!
The flowers are fragrant in sleep
By the rippling brook, only love is awake.
Sit down! Dusk falls mysteriously here
Beneath the linden trees.
The nightingale above us Shall dream of our kisses
And the rose, when it wakes at dawn, Shall glow from our night’s rapture.
Text by Adolf Friedrich von Schack Translation by Richard Stokes
The child sat by the fire. Cupid, Cupid, And was blind; With his little wings he fans The flames and he smiles, Fans and smiles, the crafty child!
Alas, the child has burnt his wing, Cupid, Cupid, Runs quickly!
‘Ah, how the flames hurt him!’ Beating his wings, he cries aloud, Seeks refuge in the shepherdess’s lap, Crying for help, the crafty child.
And the shepherdess helps the child Cupid, Cupid, Naughty and blind.
Look, shepherdess, your heart’s on fire, Didn’t you recognize the child? Look how quickly the flames spread. Beware the crafty child!
Fans and smiles, the crafty child!
Text by Clemens Brentano
Translation by Richard Stokes
From New England, Amy Beach (born Amy Marcy Cheney) was the first American woman to achieve widespread success as a composer of art songs. Beach was a child prodigy who memorized over 40 songs at only one year old, and began composing by age four. Due to demand from her husband, she limited her public performances from 1885-1910, focusing instead on composition. Following his death, she resumed her life as both a composer and a performing pianist. She composed over 150 art songs in her career, with her best-known being her set, Three BrowningSongs , featuring poetry by Robert Browning. This set was commissioned by the Browning Society of Boston in 1899-1900. The poems explore themes of moral contemplation, apathy in marriage, and love more powerful than words can explain.
The Year’s at the Spring was composed in Beach’s head while on a train. The consistent, quick-moving triplet motion in the accompaniment was inspired by the train wheels she heard while composing. The poetry in Ah! Love, but a day, was written when Browning’s wife was experiencing doubt in their marriage. She was apathetic and unexcited about their love and worried that he, too, would struggle with his feelings for her. Beach worked the poetry into music with a clear sense of intensity in both the vocal and piano lines. The questioning manner of Browning’s wife can be heard through the growth and decay in the music, leading to a clear sense of uncertainty for the listener. The final song, I send my heart up to thee, is from Browning’s Love’s Power, in which two lovers sing to each other on a gondola. The original poem ends tragically, but Beach cut the ending, leaving a beautifully expressive love song. She includes flowing arpeggios in the piano indicative of the boat rocking on water. She also includes text painting, by placing the word “heart” on the highest notes in each phrase, as if being sent out past the lovers, into the world around them. This song contains more chromaticism and modulation than the other two pieces but is less frequently performed.
The Year’s at the Spring
The year's at the spring
And day's at the morn; Morning's at seven;
The hill-side's dew-pearl'd;
The lark's on the wing;
Look in my eyes!
Wilt thou change too?
Should I fear surprise?
Shall I find aught new
In the old and dear,
In the good and true,
The snail's on the thorn; God's in His heaven
All's right with the world!
Ah, Love, but a day!
Ah, Love, but a day, And the world has changed! The sun's away, And the bird estranged; The wind has dropped, And the sky's deranged; Summer has stopped.
With the changing year?
I send my heart up to thee I send my heart up to thee, all my heart In this my singing, For the stars help me, and the sea, and the sea bears part; The very night is clinging Closer to Venice' streets to leave one space Above me, whence thy face May light my joyous heart to thee, to thee its dwelling place
Text by Robert Browning
Sources
Kimball, C. (2006). Song: A Guide to Art Song Style and Literature. Rowman and Littlefield.
Gorrell, L. (2005). The Nineteenth-Century German lied. Amadeus Press ; For North American sales, Hal Leonard Corporation.
Bernac, P. (1978). The Interpretation of French Song. Norton and Company.
Sadie, S. (2024, November 11). Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Encyclopædia Britannica. https://www.britannica.com/biography/Wolfgang-Amadeus-Mozart
Schwarm, B. (n.d.). Der Hirt auf dem Felsen. Encyclopædia Britannica. https://www.britannica.com/topic/DerHirt-auf-dem-Felsen