March 26, 2022 PepsiCo Recital Hall

Presents

Marcie Ellen Duplantis, soprano Edward Newman, piano

7:00pm

Program

Selections from Sei Romanze Giuseppe Verdi Perduta ho la pace (1813 – 1901) Deh, pietoso, oh Addolorata

From Cinq poèmes de Charles Baudelaire Claude Debussy Le jet d’eau (1862 – 1918) Recueillement From L’enfant prodigue, “Air de Lia”

Intermission

From “The Sun is Love” Gwyneth Walker Circling the Sun (b. 1947) The Sunrise Ruby A Waterbird

Berlin im Licht Kurt Weill Selections from “Die Dreigroschenope” (1900 – 1950) Polly’s Lied Mack the Knife

This recital is given in partial fulfillment of the requirements for a Master of Music in Voice Pedagogy. Marcie Ellen Duplantis is a student of Professor Twyla Robinson.

The use of recording equipment or taking photographs is prohibited. Please silence all electronic devices including watches, pagers, and phones.

Giuseppe Verdi (1813 – 1901) is an opera icon for composers, enthusiast, and singers around the world. He is best known for having written 28 operas in his lifetime and a multitude of other works including choral, vocal, and instrumental. Perduta oh la pace and Deh, pietoso, oh Addolorata are extracted from young Verdi’s first publication, “Sei Romanze,” a set of six songs published in Milan in 1838. The text is an Italian translation by Luigi Balestra (1808 – 1863) from by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe’s (1749 – 1832) Faust: Der Tragödie erster Teil (Part I), first published in 1790. The songs recount Goethe’s tale from the perspective of innocent and tragedy-stricken Gretchen.

Perduta ho la pace is the Italian version of Gretchen’s song at her spinning wheel. The text in its original language, “Meine Ruh ist hin, mein Herz ist schwer” is most recognizable in Schubert’s art-song setting, “Gretchen am Spinnrade”. Gretchen’s lament has been set by various other composers such as Wagner, Berlioz, and Loewe. In Verdi’s arrangement, Gretchen alternates between bleak hopelessness and overwhelming memories of intense affection. The audience hears this in the dynamic contrasts between her intoned refrain in D minor which personifies the throb of a heartbeat, and her soaring lyrical melodies in F major which ring out joyous ecstasy.

Deh, pietoso, oh Addolorata, is Gretchen’s heartbreaking prayer to the Mater Dolorosa. Here, Gretchen pleas for relief from her insufferable pain in a crowded church where she feels alone. In this piece, we hear as Gretchen begins to succumb to the dark fate of her shameful and unwanted pregnancy, loneliness, and infanticidal ideations, all while pleading with pious intent to Mary, Mother of Jesus.

Perduta ho la pace, ho in cor mille guai; Ah, non più non spero trovarla più mai. M’è buio di tomba ov’egli non è; Senz’esso un deserto è il mondo per me. Mio povero capo confuse travolto; Oh misera, il senno, il senno m’è tolto! Perduta ho la pace… S’io sto al finestrello ho gl’occhi a lui solo; S’io sfuggo di casa, sol dietro a lui volo. Oh, il bel portamento; oh, il vago suo viso! Qual forza è nei sguardi, che dolce sorriso!

I have lost all peace; my heart is full of cares; I can never hop to find that peace again. Wherever I don’t see him is the darkness of the tomb. Without him, the world is a desert for me. My poor head is confused and distorted; All reason has been torn from me! I have lost all peace... If I go to the window it is only to look for him; If I leave the house, it is only to search for him. Oh, his noble bearing, his fair face! What strength in his gaze what sweetness in his smile!

E son le parole un magico rio; Qual stringer di mano qual bacio, mio Dio! Perduta ho la pace.. Anela congiungersi al suo il mio petto; Potessi abbracciarlo ternelo a me stretto! Baciarlo potessi, far pago il desir! Baciarlo! E pottessi baciata morir. ---

Deh, pietoso, oh Addolorata, Chi na il guardo al mio dolore; Tu, una spada fitta in core, Volgi gl'occhi desolata Al morente tuo figliuol.

Quelle occhiate, i sospir vanno Lassù al padre e son preghiera Che il suo tempri ed il tuo affanno. Come a me squarcin le viscere Gli insoffribili miei guai E dell'ansio petto i palpiti Chi comprendere può mai? Di che trema il cor? Che vuol? Ah! tu sola il sai, tu sol!

Sempre, ovunque il passo io giro, Qual martiro, qual martiro Qui nel sen porto con me! Solitaria appena, oh, quanto Verso allora, oh, quanto pianto E di dentro scoppia il cor.

Sul vasel del finestrino La mia lacrima scendea Quando all'alba del mattino Questi fior per te cogliea, Ché del sole il primo raggio La mia stanza rischiarava E dal letto mi cacciava Agitandomi il dolor.

And his words that flowed like a magical river… …and the grasp of his hand, and, oh God, his kiss… I have lost all peace… I want only to press my breast against his, to embrace him, to hold him close… If only I could kiss him as I long to do! To kiss him, and then to die on that kiss! Translation: © Teatro Nuovo 2020

Ah, in pity, Mother of Sorrows, Look down upon my pain; You, your heart pierced as by a sword, Turn your desolate eyes To your dying Son.

Those glances, those sighs Rise to the Father and become prayers That comfort your suffering and His. How my body is lacerated By my unbearable suffering, The pounding of my anxious heart - Who can comprehend it? What makes my heart tremble, what it wants? You, you alone can know.

Always, wherever I turn my steps, What martyrdom, what martyrdom I carry with me here in my breast! No sooner am I alone, How many tears I shed! And my heart breaks within me.

On the sill of my little window, My tears fell When at the dawn of day I gathered these flowers for you, For the first ray of sun Lit my chamber... And drove me from my bed, Agitating my despair.

Ah, per te dal disonore, Dalla morte io sia salvata. Deh, pietoso al mio dolore China il guardo, oh Addolorata!

Ah, may you save me From death and shame! I pray, in pity for my grief, Incline to me, Mother of Sorrows!

Translations: © Teatro Nuovo 2020

Claude Debussy's “Cinq poèmes de Charles Baudelaire” song cycle is based on selected text from Charles Baudelaire's poems, Les Fleurs du mal, and written for voice and piano. While living in Paris, Debussy composed these pieces from December 1887 to March 1889 while visiting Bayreuth, where he first heard Wagner's Tristan und Isolde. 1 Wagner's influence makes a lasting impression on Debussy's work. In 1903 Debussy commented that Wagner is "a beautiful sunset that was mistaken for a dawn." 2 As stated by Roger Nichols3, listen carefully for the Wagnerian influences of chromatic harmony, widely arching melody lines of both voice and piano, the sheer complexity of the keyboard writing, and the continually uninterrupted cadences4. Unfortunately, the set receives no warmth from Parisian music circles in the late nineteenth century.

Le jet d’eau: Tes beaux yeux sont las, pauvre amante ! Reste longtemps, sans les rouvrir, Dans cette pose nonchalante Où t’a surprise le plaisir. Dans la cour le jet d’eau qui jase Et ne se tait ni nuit ni jour, Entretient doucement l’extase Où ce soir m’a plongé l’amour. La gerbe d’eau qui berce Ses mille fleurs, Que la lune traverse De ses pâleurs, Tombe comme une averse De larges pleurs. Ainsi ton âme qu’incendie L’éclair brûlant des voluptés S’élance, rapide et hardie, Vers les vastes cieux enchantés. Puis, elle s’épanche, mourante, En un flot de triste langueur, Qui par une invisible pente Descend jusqu’au fond de mon cœur. La gerbe d’eau qui berce …

1 Lesure, François, and Roy Howat. "Debussy, (Achille-)Claude." Grove Music Online. 2001; Accessed 7 May. 2021. https://www.oxfordmusiconline.com/grovemusic/view/10.1093/gmo/9781561592630.001.0001/omo-9781561592630-e-0000007353. 2 Trezise, Simon. “The Cambridge Companion to Debussy.” Cambridge Core. Cambridge University Press. Accessed May 8, 2021. https://www.cambridge.org/core/books/cambridge-companion-to-debussy/E3A1915027340795EEDB97D211804D05. 3 Nichols, Richard. Cinq poèmes de Baudelaire, L70 (Debussy) - from CDA67357 - Hyperion Records - MP3 and Lossless downloads. Accessed May 8, 2021. https://www.hyperion-records.co.uk/dw.asp?dc=W4573_67357. 4 Claude Debussy's Musical Style. Accessed May 8, 2021. http://www.lcsproductions.net/MusicHistory/MusHistRev/Articles/DebussyStyle.html.

The fountain: Your beautiful eyes are fatigued, poor lover! Rest awhile, without opening them anew, In this careless pose, Where pleasure surprised you. The babbling fountain in the courtyard, Never silent night or day, Sweetly prolongs the ecstasy Where love this evening plunged me. The sheaf of water Swaying its thousand flowers, Through which the moon gleams With its pallid light, Falls like a shower Of great tears. And so your soul, lit By the searing flash of ecstasy, Leaps swift and bold To vast enchanted skies. And then, dying, spills over In a wave of sad listlessness, Down some invisible incline Into the depths of my heart. The sheaf of water …

O toi, que la nuit rend si belle, Qu’il m’est doux, penché vers tes seins, D’écouter la plainte éternelle Qui sanglote dans les bassins ! Lune, eau sonore, nuit bénie, Arbres qui frissonnez autour,— Votre pure mélancolie Est le miroir de mon amour La gerbe d’eau qui berce…

O you, whom night renders so beautiful, How sweet, as I lean toward your breasts, To listen to the eternal lament Sobbing in the fountain’s basin! O moon, lapping water, blessed night, Trees that quiver all around, Your sheer melancholy Is the mirror of my love. The sheaf of water...

---

Recueillement: Sois sage, ô ma Douleur, et tiens-toi plus tranquille; Tu réclamais le Soir: il descend; le voici : Une atmosphère obscure enveloppe la ville, Aux uns portant la paix, aux autres le souci. Pendant que des mortels la multitude vile, Sous le fouet du Plaisir, ce bourreau sans merci, Va cueillir des remords dans la fête servile, Ma Douleur, donne-moi la main ; viens par ici, Loin d’eux. Vois se pencher les défuntes Années, Sur les balcons du ciel, en robes surannées; Surgir du fonds des eaux le Regret souriant; Le Soleil moribond s’endormir sous une arche, Et, comme un long linceul traînant à l’Orient, Entends, ma chère, entends la douce Nuit qui marche.

Meditation: Be good, O my Sorrow, and keep more calm. You longed for Evening; it is falling; now: A dusky atmosphere enfolds the town, Bringing peace to some, to others care. While the vile multitude of mortals, Lashed by Pleasure, that pitiless tormentor, Goes gathering remorse in abject revels, Give me your hand, my Sorrow; come this way, Far from them. See the departed Years leaning, In outmoded dress, from the heavens’ balustrades; See smiling Regret well up from the waters’ depths; The dying Sun fall asleep beneath an arch, And like a long shroud trailing in the East, Listen, my love, listen to the tread of gentle Night. Translation by: Richard Stokes

“Air de Lia”, also known as “Lia’s Aria” is from Debussy’s L’enfant prodigue with libretto by Édouard Guinard (1838 – 1909). The scene lyrique or cantata is based on the parable of the prodigal son as appears in the Bible from the Book of Luke. In the aria, Lia, the mother of the prodigal son (Azaël), grieves the absence of her beloved son as he has left home to squander the wealth of his inheritance on self-indulgence. Unlike the biblical story, in this retelling of the parable, the mother of the prodigal son has a voice and influential one at that. In Debussy’s recount, Lia is a pivotal character who persuades her husband, Azaël’s father, to forgive their son and welcome him home with open arms. L’année en vain chasse l’année! À chaque saison ramenée, Leurs jeux et leurs ébats m’attristent malgré moi : Ils rouvrent ma blessure et mon chagrin s’accroît... Je viens chercher la grève solitaire... Douleur involontaire ! Efforts superflus ! Lia pleure toujours l’enfant qu’elle n’a plus !.. Azaël ! Azaël ! pourquoi m’as-tu quittée ?... En mon cœur maternel Ton image est restée. Azaël ! Azaël ! Pourquoi m’as-tu quittée ?... Cependant les soirs étaient doux, Dans la plaine d’ormes plantée, Quand, sous la charge récoltée, On ramenait les grands bœufs roux. Lorsque la tâche était finie, Enfants, vieillards et serviteurs, Ouvriers des champs ou pasteurs, Louaient de Dieu la main bénie. Ainsi les jours suivaient les jours : Et, dans la pieuse famille, Le jeune homme et la jeune fille Échangeaient leurs chastes amours. D’autres ne sentent pas le poids de la vieillesse : Heureux dans leurs enfants, ils voient couler les ans Sans regret comme sans tristesse... Aux cœurs inconsolés que les temps sont pesants !... Azaël ! Azaël ! pourquoi m’as-tu quittée ?...

Year follows upon empty year! With each returning season, Their sports and revels sadden me despite myself: They reopen my wound and my grief increases. I come to visit this solitary shore. Involuntary pain! Useless efforts! Lia forever grieves the child she has no more! Azael, Azael, why did you leave me? Your image lives on In my maternal heart. Azael! Azael! Why did you leave me? Yet the evenings were sweet In the meadow with its elm trees, When, laden with the harvest, The great russet oxen were brought home. When the task was done, Children, old folk and servants, Field workers and shepherds Would praise the blessed hand of God. Thus day followed day And in the pious family Youths and maidens Would exchange their innocent love. Others do not feel the weight of old age; Happy with their children, they watch The years go by without regret or sadness... How heavily time lies on an unconsoled heart! Azael, Azael, why did you leave me? Translation by: Mary Pardoe

Dr. Gwyneth Walker’s (b. 1947) song cycle, The Sun is Love, was published in 2003, set with texts by poet Jelaluddin Rumi (1207 – 1273). Dr. Walker is a graduate of Brown University and the Hartt School of Music and holds B.A., M.M. and D.M.A. degrees in Music Composition. She is a former faculty member of the Oberlin College Conservatory and gave up the life of academia to pursue a full-time career as a composer.5 Walker’s compositions are beloved by performers and audiences alike for their energy, beauty, reverence, drama, and humor.6 Popular in the choral music sector, she also has a wide array of compositions ranging from orchestral, chamber music, solo instrument, and solo voice, with over 400 commissioned works, worldwide. Circling the Sun The sun is love. The lover, a speck circling the sun. A spring wind moves to dance any branch that isn’t dead. Something opens our wings. Something makes boredom and hurt disappear. Someone fills the cup in front of us. We taste only sacredness. Held like this, to draw in milk, no will, tasting clouds of milk, never so content. I stand up and this one of me turns into a hundred of me. They say I circle around you. Nonsense. I circle around me. The Sunrise Ruby In the early morning hour, just before dawn, lover and beloved wake and take a drink of water. She asks, “Do you love me or yourself more? Really, tell the absolute truth.” He says, “There’s nothing left of me. I’m like a ruby held up to the sunrise. Is it still a stone, or a world made of redness? It has no resistance to sunlight.” This is how the Lord said, I am God and told the truth! The ruby and the sunrise are one.

A Waterbird What I want is to see your face In a tree, in the sun coming out, in the air. What I want is to hear the falcon-drum, and light again on your forearm. To see in every palm your elegant silver coin shavings, to turn with the wheel of the rain, to fall with the falling bread. To swim like a huge fish in ocean water, to be Jacob recognizing Joseph. To be a desert mountain instead of a city. I’m tired of cowards. I want to live with lions. with Moses. I want to sing like birds sing, not worrying who hears, or what they think. I am a waterbird flying into the sun. What I want is to see your face Beyond wanting, beyond place. I am a waterbird flying into the sun Your old life was a frantic running from silence. The speechless full moon comes out now. Original text by Rumi in Hindi Translations by: Coleman Barks

5 https://www.gwynethwalker.com/ 6 https://www.gwynethwalker.com/index.html

Kurt Weill (1900 – 1950), German and Jewish composer, is known for his social and satirical

compositions that shine a light on historical, political, and culturally relevant issues. Weill composed in the style of Gebrauchsmusik, or “utility music”, basing his works on the idea that music is written with intent to serve an identifiable purpose. He is known for his thriving collaborations with playwright and poet, Bertolt Brecht (1898 – 1956). Their best-known partnership produced the “Die Dreigroschenoper” or “The Threepenny Opera”, a play with music, which is attributed the origin of musical theatre. Both Polly’s Lied and Mack the Knife, excerpts from “The Threepenny Opera”, are infused with themes of satire, socialism, and realism.

Berlin im Licht whose lyrics and music are both by Weill himself, was written while he was living in

Germany, before his move to the United States, and quickly became the theme of the 1920s cabaret.7 The Ballad of Mack the Knife, or known in its original language as Die Moritat von Mackie Messer, is the opening ballad of The Threepenny Opera, and descriptively paints the picture of MacHeath/Mack the Knife’s character as the head of a gang of crooks. The song references Jenny Diver, Suky Tawdry, and Lucy Brown, who are all other female characters in the opera with whom MacHeath wields power over. It also references Louis Miller and Lotte Lenya. Louis Miller is another character who is murdered by MacHeath and Lotte Lenya was Kurt Weill’s wife at the time of the composition. Lotte Lenya won a Tony Award for her portrayal of Jenny, at the production’s premiere, the only Tony award ever given to an off-Broadway production.8 In Polly’s Lied we hear Polly Peachum reflect on the loss of love between her and MacHeath (Mack the Knife).

Berlin im Licht: Und zum Spazierengehn genügt das Sonnenlicht. Doch um die Stadt Berlin zu sehn, genügt die Sonne nicht. Das ist kein lauschiges Plätzchen, das ist ’ne ziemliche Stadt. Damit man da alles gut sehen kann, da braucht man schon einige Watt. Na wat denn? Na wat denn? Was ist das für’ne Stadt denn? Komm, mach mal Licht, damit man sehn kann, ob was da ist, Komm, mach mal Licht, und rede nun mal nicht. Komm, mach mal Licht, dann wollen wir doch auch mal sehen. Ob das’ne Sache ist: Berlin im Licht.

If you just want to take a walk, all you need is sunlight, but if you want to see the city of Berlin, the sun just isn’t enough. This is no secluded little outpost; it’s quite a place. To see everything in it properly, you’re going to need a few watts. So what? So what? What kind of city is it anyway? Come on, turn on the lights so we can see what there is to see – Come on, turn on the lights and don’t say another word. Come on, turn on the lights, so we can see what the big deal is: Berlin in Lights! Translation by: Steven Blier

7 https://www.kwf.org/works/berlin-im-licht-song-otto-lindemann-1928/ 8 https://www.kwf.org/lotte-lenya/

Polly’s Lied: Hübsch als es wärte und nun ist’s vorüber, reiß aus dein Herz, sag: Goodbye mein Lieber! Was nutz all dein Jammer, (leih Maria, dein Ohr mir!) wenn meine Mutter selber wüßte all das vor mir.

Nice while is lasted, and now that it’s over tear out your heart; say, “goodbye, my lover!” Oh, pity me Mary! For there’s no use in crying when even my own mother knew that he was lying. Translations by: Marc Blitzstein

Mack the Knife: Oh, the shark has pretty teeth and he shows them pearly white. Just a jackknife, has MacHeath and he keeps it out of sight. When the shark bites with those teeth scarlet billows begin to spread. Fancy gloves wears MacHeath so there’s never a trace of red. On the sidewalk, Sunday morning lies a body, oozing life. Someone’s creeping around the corner. Could that someone be Mack the Knife? There’s a tugboat, down by the river with cement bags, just droopin’ on down. That cements there, just for the weight now that Mackie is back in town. Did ‘ya hear about Louis Miller? He disappeared after drawing out all his hard-earned cash. Now MacHeath spends like a sailor, could he have done something rash? Jenny Diver, Sukey Tawdry, Miss Lotte Lenya, and Lucy Brown, the line forms on the right now that Mackie is back in town.