Robert Blocker, Dean

artist diploma degree recital

Institute of Sacred Music • Martin Jean, DirectorFebruary 9, 2014 • Morse Recital Hall

tenor

kyle stegall

Artist Diploma Degree Recital

George Frideric Handel1685-1759

Barbara Strozzi1619-1677

Nicolaus Bruhns1665-1697

Ludwig van Beethoven1770-1827

Look Down, Harmonious Saint, HWV 124

Holly Piccoli, baroque violinNayeon Kim, baroque violinBatmyagmar Erdenebat, baroque violaJurrian van der Zanden, baroque celloWesley Hall, harpsichord

Udite Amanti

Arash Noori, theorbo

Jauchzet dem Herren alle Welt (Psalm 100)Holly Piccoli, baroque violinNayeon Kim, baroque violinJurrian van der Zanden, baroque celloWesley Hall, harpsichord

Adelaide, Op. 46

Ted Taylor, piano

Sunday, February 9, 2014 • 5:00 pm • Morse Recital Hall

This performance is in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the Artist Diploma.

tenor

kyle stegall

Benjamin Britten1913-1976

intermission

Serenade for tenor, horn, and strings Op. 31I. PrologueII. PastoralIII. NocturneIV. ElegyV. DirgeVI. Hymn VII. SonnetVIII. Epilogue

Kathleen Allan, conductorJohn Craig Hubbard, hornHolly Piccoli, concertmasterBenjamin Hoffman, violin IJinyou Lee, violin IShuaili Du, violin IIEmma Hathaway, violin IIHye Jin Koh, violin IIJing Yang, violin IIBatmyagmar Erdenebat, violaJacob Schafer, violaJia Cao, celloIan Gottlieb, celloSam Bobinski, double bass

georg frederic handelLook Down, Harmonious Saint, HWV 124text: Newburgh Hamilton (1691-1761)

Recitative:Look down, harmonious Saint,Whilst we do celebrate thy art and thee!of Musik’s force the wonders show,the most of Heav’n we here can know.

Aria:Sweet accents all your numbers grace,touch ev’ry trembling string;each note in justest order placeof Harmony we’ll sing.

barbara strozzi

Udite Amanti

Udite amanti la cagione, oh Dio, ch’a. lagrimar mi porta: nell’adorato e bello idolo mio, che sì fido credei, la fede è morta. Vaghezza ho sol di piangere, mi pasco sol di lagrime, il duolo è mia delizia e son miei gioie i gemiti. Ogni martie aggradami, ogni dolor dilettami, i singulti mi sanano, i sospir mi consolano. Ma se la fede negami quell’incostante e perfido, almen fede serbatemi fino alla morte, o lagrime! Ogni tristezza assalgami,ogni cordoglio eternisi, tanto ogni male affliggami che m’uccida e sotterrimi.

Musick! That all-persuading artwhich soothes our griefs, inspires our joysSoft Love creates, Stern Rage destroysand molds at will each stubborn heart!

It charms the soul, delights the ear,to it all passions bow, it gives us hope, it conquers fear,and rules we know not how.

Hear, Lovers, the reason, Oh Lord!,The reason which brings me such weeping.In my beloved and beautiful idol,whom I believed faithful, faith is dead. I find pleasure in crying,I nourish myself with tears alone,grief is my delightand my moans are my joys. Each torment pleases me,every sorrow delights me,these sobs heal me,these sighs bring me comfort. But, should fate deny meThis inconstant and treacherous lover,at least fate preserves…until death, my tears!Every sadness assaults memy mourning is everlasting,so great is every evil afflictionthat they murder and bury me.

Texts & Translations

nicolaus bruhnsJauchzet dem Herren alle Welt, Psalm 100

Jauchzet dem Herren alle Welt. Dienet dem Herren mit Freuden, kommt, für sein Angesicht mit Frohlocken.

Erkennet, daß der Herre Gott ist! Er hat uns gemacht und nicht wir selbst zu seinem Volk und zu Schafen seiner Weide.

Geht zu seinen Toren ein mit Danken, zu seinen Vorhöfen mit Loben. Danket ihm, lobet seinen Namen.

Denn der Herr ist freundlich und seine Gnade währet ewig und seine Wahrheit für und für.

Jauchzet dem Herren alle Welt.

ludwig van beethovenAdelaidetext: Friedrich von Matthisson (1761–1831)

Einsam wandelt dein Freund im Frühlingsgarten, Mild vom lieblichen Zauberlicht umflossen, Das durch wankende Blütenzweige zittert, Adelaide!

In der spiegelnden Flut, im Schnee der Alpen, In des sinkenden Tages Goldgewölken, Im Gefilde der Sterne strahlt dein Bildnis, Adelaide!

Abendlüftchen im zarten Laube flüstern, Silberglöckchen des Mais im Grase säuselnWellen rauschen und Nachtigallen flöten: Adelaide!

Einst, o Wunder! Entblüht auf meinem Grabe Eine Blume der Asche meines Herzens; Deutlich schimmert auf jedem Purpurblättchen: Adelaide!

Be joyful in the Lord, all lands: serve the Lord with gladness, and come before his presence with a song.

Know that the Lord is God: it is he that has made us, and now we ourselves, we are his people, and the sheep of his pasture.

Go through his gates with thanksgiving, and into his courts with praise: be thankful to him, and speak good of his name.

For the Lord is gracious, his mercy is everlasting: and his truth endures from generation to generation.

Be joyful in the Lord all lands.

Alone, your friend wanders in a spring gardenGently encircled with lovely magic lightThat trembles through swaying, blossoming branches:“Adelaide!”

In the reflective stream, in the snow of the AlpsIn the sinking golden clouds of the dayIn the field of stars shines your image:“Adelaide!”

Night’s breezes whisper through the tender leaves.Silver-bells of May rustle in the grasses.Waves rush and nightingales flute:“Adelaide!”

One day, O Wonder! On my grave will bloomA flower from the ashes of my heart;Clearly shimmering on every purple leaf:“Adelaide!”

Texts & Translations

benjamin brittenSerenade for tenor, horn , and strings

I. Prologue

II. Pastoraltext: Charles Cotton (1630-1687)from The Evening Quatrains

THE Day’s grown old, the fainting SunHas but a little way to run,And yet his steeds, with all his skill,Scarce lug the chariot down the hill.

The shadows now so long do grow,That brambles like tall cedars show,Mole-hills seem mountains, and the antAppears a monstrous elephant.

A very little little flockShades thrice the ground that it would stock;Whilst the small stripling following themAppears a mighty Polypheme.

And now on benches all are satIn the cool air to sit and chat,Till Phoebus, dipping in the West,Shall lead the World the way to rest.

III. Nocturnetext: Alfred Lord Tennyson (1809-1892_) from: The Princess

The splendour falls on castle walls And snowy summits old in story: The long light shakes across the lakes, And the wild cataract leaps in glory.Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.

Texts & Translations

O hark, O hear! how thin and clear, And thinner, clearer, farther going! O sweet and far from cliff and scar The horns of Elfland faintly blowing!Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying:Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.

O love, they die in yon rich sky, They faint on hill or field or river: Our echoes roll from soul to soul, And grow for ever and for ever.Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying.

IV. Elegytext: William Blake (1757-1827)The Sick Rose

O Rose thou art sick. The invisible worm, That flies in the night In the howling storm:

Has found out thy bedOf crimson joy:And his dark secret loveDoes thy life destroy.

V. Dirgeadapted from lyke-wake dirge, 15th c.

This ae nighte, this ae nighte,Every nighte and alle,Fire and fleet and candle-lighte,And Christe receive thy saule.

When thou from hence away art past,Every nighte and alle,To Whinnymuir thou com’st at last;And Christe receive thy saule.

If ever thou gav’st hos’n and shoon,Every nighte and alle,Sit thee down and put them on;And Christe receive thy saule.

If hos’n and shoon thou ne’er gav’st nane,Every nighte and alle,The whinnes sall prick thee to the bare bane;And Christe receive thy saule.

From Whinnymuir when thou may’st pass,Every nighte and alle,To Brig o’ Dread thou com’st at last;And Christe receive thy saule.

From Brig o’ Dread when thou may’st pass,Every nighte and alle,To Purgatory fire thou com’st at last;And Christe receive thy saule.

If ever thou gav’st meat or drink,Every nighte and alle,The fire sall never make thee shrink;And Christe receive thy saule.

If meat or drink thou ne’er gav’st nane,Every nighte and alle,The fire will burn thee to the bare bane;And Christe receive thy saule.

VI. Hymntext: Ben Johnson (1572-1637)from Cynthia’s Revels

Queen and huntress, chaste and fair,Now the sun is laid to sleep,Seated in thy silver chairState in wonted manner keep: Hesperus entreats thy light, Goddess excellently bright.

Earth, let not thy envious shadeDare itself to interpose;Cynthia’s shining orb was madeHeaven to clear when day did close: Bless us then with wished sight, Goddess excellently bright.

Lay thy bow of pearl apartAnd thy crystal-shining quiver;Give unto the flying hartSpace to breathe, how short soever: Thou that mak’st a day of night, Goddess excellently bright.

VII. Sonnettext: John Keats (1795–1821)To Sleep

O soft embalmer of the still midnight, Shutting, with careful fingers and benign,Our gloom-pleas’d eyes, embower’d from the light, Enshaded in forgetfulness divine:O soothest Sleep! if so it please thee, close In midst of this thine hymn my willing eyes,Or wait the “Amen,” ere thy poppy throws Around my bed its lulling charities.Then save me, or the passed day will shineUpon my pillow, breeding many woes,— Save me from curious Conscience, that still lordsIts strength for darkness, burrowing like a mole; Turn the key deftly in the oiled wards,And seal the hushed Casket of my Soul.

VIII. Epilogue

translations: Kyle Stegall

Texts & Translations

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Robert Blocker, Dean