Program Books/Angel Blue and Bryan Wagorn/Angel Blue and Bryan Wagorn program

Program

Lee HOIBY (1926–2011) Lady of the Harbor
Claude DEBUSSY (1862–1918) “Clair de lune,” from Suite bergamasque (piano solo)
Gabriel FAURÉ (1845–1924) Clair de lune, Op. 46, No. 2
Mandoline, Op. 58, No. 1
Fleur jetée, Op. 39, No. 2
Robert SCHUMANN (1810–1856) Stille Tränen, Op. 35, No. 10
Richard STRAUSS (1864–1949) Allerseelen, Op. 10, No. 8
Befreit, Op. 39, No. 4
Morgen!, Op. 27, No. 4
Cäcilie, Op. 27, No. 2

Intermission

Lee HOIBY (1926–2011) Winter Song
There Came a Wind Like a Bugle
Frédéric CHOPIN (1810–1849) Prelude in D-flat major, Op. 28, No. 15, Raindrop (piano solo)
Kurt WEILL (1900–1950) Youkali
Traditional Spirituals My Soul’s Been Anchored in the Lord
You Can Tell the World
Deep River
Ride on King Jesus

Tonight’s program will be performed with intermission.

Texts & Translations

LEE HOIBY

The Lady of The Harbor
Text by Emma Lazarus

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”
GABRIEL FAURÉ

Clair de lune, Op. 46, No. 2
Text by Paul Verlaine

Votre âme est un paysage choisi
Que vont charmant masques et bergamasques
Jouant du luth et dansant et quasi
Tristes sous leurs déguisements fantasques.
Tout en chantant sur le mode mineur
L’amour vainqueur et la vie opportune,
Ils n’ont pas l’air de croire à leur bonheur
Et leur chanson se mêle au clair de lune,

Au calme clair de lune triste et beau,
Qui fait rêver les oiseaux dans les arbres
Et sangloter d’extase les jets d’eau,
Les grands jets d’eau sveltes parmi les marbres.

Moonlight

Your soul is a chosen landscape
Bewitched by masquers and bergamaskers,
Playing the lute and dancing and almost
Sad beneath their fanciful disguises.
Singing as they go in a minor key
Of conquering love and life’s favours,
They do not seem to believe in their fortune
And their song mingles with the light of the moon,
The calm light of the moon, sad and fair,
That sets the birds dreaming in the trees
And the fountains sobbing in their rapture,
Tall and svelte amid marble statues.
—translation © Richard Stokes
Mandoline, Op. 58, No. 1
Text by Paul Verlaine

Les donneurs de sérénades
Et les belles écouteuses
Échangent des propos fades
Sous les ramures chanteuses.
C’est Tircis et c’est Aminte,
Et c’est l’éternel Clitandre,
Et c’est Damis qui pour mainte
Cruelle fait maint vers tendre.
Leurs courtes vestes de soie,
Leurs longues robes à queues,
Leur élégance, leur joie
Et leurs molles ombres bleues,
Tourbillonnent dans l’extase
D’une lune rose et grise,
Et la mandoline jase
Parmi les frissons de brise.
Mandolin

The gallant serenaders
And their fair listeners
Exchange sweet nothings
Beneath singing boughs.
Tirsis is there, Aminte is there,
And tedious Clitandre too,
And Damis who for many a cruel maid
Writes many a tender song.
Their short silken doublets,
Their long trailing gowns,
Their elegance, their joy,
And their soft blue shadows
Whirl madly in the rapture
Of a grey and roseate moon,
And the mandolin jangles on
In the shivering breeze.
—translation © Richard Stokes
Fleur jetée, Op. 39, No. 2
Text by Armand Silvestre

Emporte ma folie
Au gré du vent,
Fleur en chantant cueillie
Et jetée en rêvant.
– Emporte ma folie
Au gré du vent!
Comme la fleur fauchée
Périt l’amour.
La main qui t’a touchée
Fuit ma main sans retour.
– Comme la fleur fauchée,
Périt l’amour!
Que le vent qui te sèche,
Ô pauvre fleur,
Tout à l’heure si fraîche
Et demain sans couleur!
– Que le vent qui te sèche,
Sèche mon cœur!
Discarded flower

Bear away my folly
At the whim of the wind,
Flower, plucked while singing
And discarded while dreaming.
Bear away my folly
At the whim of the wind!
Like a scythed flower
Love perishes.
The hand that touched you
Shuns my hand for ever.
Like a scythed flower
Love perishes!
May the wind that withers you,
O poor flower,
So fresh just now
But tomorrow faded,
May the wind that withers you,
Wither my heart!
—translation © Richard Stokes
ROBERT SCHUMANN

Stille Tränen, Op. 35, No. 10
Text by Justinus Kerner

Du bist vom Schlaf erstanden
Und wandelst durch die Au’,
Da liegt ob allen Landen
Der Himmel wunderblau.
So lang du ohne Sorgen
Geschlummert schmerzenlos,
Der Himmel bis zum Morgen
Viel Tränen niedergoss.
In stillen Nächten weinet
Oft mancher aus den Schmerz,
Und morgens dann ihr meinet,
Stets fröhlich sei sein Herz.
Silent Tears

From sleep you have risen
And walk through the meadow.
Everywhere lies
Heaven’s wondrous blue.
As long as, free of care, you have
Been slumbering, free of pain,
Heaven has, till morning,
Poured down many tears.
Often on silent nights
Many a man weeps his grief away,
And in the morning you imagine
His heart is ever happy.
—translation © Richard Stokes
RICHARD STRAUSS

Allerseelen, Op. 10, No. 8
Text by Hermann von Gilm

Stell auf den Tisch die duftenden Reseden,
Die letzten roten Astern trag herbei,
Und laß uns wieder von der Liebe reden,
Wie einst im Mai.

Gib mir die Hand, daß ich sie heimlich drücke
Und wenn man’s sieht, mir ist es einerlei,
Gib mir nur einen deiner süßen Blicke,
Wie einst im Mai.

Es blüht und duftet heut auf jedem Grabe,
Ein Tag im Jahr ist ja den Toten frei,
Komm an mein Herz, daß ich dixch wieder habe,
Wie einst im Mai.

All Souls’ Day

Put upon the table the fragrant mignonettes,
Add the final red asters there,
And let us speak again about love,
As once in May.

Give me your hand, that I may press it secretly
And if one sees it, it is all the same to me,
Give me just one of your sweet looks,
As once in May.

It bleeds and perfumes today on every grave,
One day a year is set for the dead,
Come to my heart, so that I may have you again,
As once in May

Befreit, Op. 39, No. 4
Text by Richard Dehmel

Du wirst nicht weinen. Leise, leise
wirst du lächeln: und wie zur Reise
geb’ ich dir Blick und Kuß zurück.
Unsre lieben vier Wände! Du hast sie bereitet,
ich habe sie dir zur Welt geweitet—
o Glück!

Dann wirst du heiß meine Hände fassen
und wirst mir deine Seele lassen,
läßt unsern Kindern mich zurück.
Du schenktest mir dein ganzes Leben,
ich will es ihnen wiedergeben—
o Glück!

Es wird sehr bald sein, wir wissen’s beide,
wir haben einander befreit vom Leide;
so geb ich dich der Welt zurück.
Dann wirst du mir nur noch im Traum erscheinen
und mich segnen und mit mir weinen—
o Glück!

Released

You will not weep. Gently, gently
You will smile: and as on a journey
I will look back and return a kiss to you.
Our dear four walls! You have prepared them,
I have widened them into the world for you—
Oh joy!

Then you will hold my hands warmly
And you will leave me your soul,
Leaving our children to me.
You give me your entire life,
I will give it back to them—
Oh joy!

It will be very soon, we both know it,
We have liberated each other from sorrow;
So I give you back to the world.
Then you will only appear to me as in a dream
And bless me and weep with me—
Oh joy!

Morgen! Op. 27, No. 4
Text by John Henry MacKay

Und morgen wird die Sonne wieder scheinen,
Und auf dem Wege, den ich gehen werde,
Wird uns, die Glücklichen, sie wieder einen
Inmitten dieser sonnenatmenden Erde…

Und zu dem Strand, dem weiten, wogenblauen,
Werden wir still und langsam niedersteigen,
Stumm werden wir uns in die Augen schauen,
Und auf uns sinkt des Glückes stummes Schweigen…

Tomorrow!

And tomorrow the sun will shine again,
And on the path, that I will go on,
She will unite us, the happy ones
Amid this sun-breathing earth…

And to the shore, wide, blue-waved,
Will we quietly and slowly descend,
Speechlessly will we look into the other’s eyes,
And the speechless silence of bliss will fall upon us.

Cäcilie, Op. 27, No. 2
Text by Heinrich Hart

Wenn du es wüsstest,
Was träumen heißt von brennenden Küssen,
Von Wandern und Ruhen mit der Geliebten,
Aug in Auge,
Und kosend und plaudernd,
Wenn du es wüsstest, du neigtest dein Herz!

Wenn du es wüsstest,
Was bangen heißt in einsamen Nächten,
Umschauert vom Sturm, da niemand tröstet
Milden Mundes die kampfmüde Seele,
Wenn du es wüsstest,
Du kämest zu mir.

Wenn du es wüsstest,
Was leben heißt, umhaucht von der Gottheit
Weltschaffendem Atem,
Zu schweben empor, lichtgetragen,
Zu seligen Höhn,
Wenn du es wüsstest,
Du lebtest mit mir!

Cecily

If you knew it,
What it is to dream of burning kisses,
Of wondering and resting with one’s beloved,
Eye to eye,
And embracing and chatting,
If you knew it, you would direct your heart to me!

If you knew it,
What it is to tremble on lonely nights,
Surrounded by a storm, while nobody comforts
The battle-weary soul with sweet words,
If you knew it,
You would come to me.

If you knew it,
What it is to live, breathed upon
By the world-creating breath of God,
To soar above, light-born,
To sacred heights;
If you knew it,
You would live with me.

LEE HOIBY

A Winter Song
Text by Wilfred Owen

The browns, the olives, and the yellows died,
And were swept up to heaven; where they glowed
Each dawn and set of sun till Christmastide,
And when the land lay pale for them, pale-snowed,
Fell back, and down the snow-drifts flamed and flowed.

From off your face, into the winds of winter,
The sun-brown and the summer-gold are blowing;
But they shall gleam with spiritual glinter,
When paler beauty on your brows falls snowing,
And through those snows my looks shall be soft-going.

There Came a Wind Like a Bugle
Text by Emily Dickinson

There came a Wind like a Bugle—
It quivered through the Grass
And a Green Chill upon the Heat
So ominous did pass
We barred the Windows and the Doors
As from an Emerald Ghost—
The Doom’s electric Moccasin
That very instant passed—
On a strange Mob of panting Trees
And Fences fled away
And Rivers where the Houses ran
Those looked that lived—that Day—
The Bell within the steeple wild
The flying tidings told—
How much can come
And much can go,
And yet abide the World!
KURT WEILL

Youkali
C’est presque au bout du monde
Ma barque vagabonde
Errante au gré de l’onde
M’y conduisit un jour
L’île est toute petite
Mais la fée qui l’habite
Gentiment nous invite
À en faire le tour

Youkali
C’est le pays de nos désirs
Youkali
C’est le bonheur, c’est le plaisir
Youkali
C’est la terre où l’on quitte tous les soucis
C’est, dans notre nuit, comme une éclaircie
L’étoile qu’on suit
C’est Youkali

Youkali,
C’est le respect
De tous les Vœux échangés,
Youkali,
C’est le pays
Des beaux amours partagés,
C’est l’espérance
Qui est au cœur de tous les humains,
La délivrance
Que nous attendons tous pour demain,
Youkali,
C’est le pays de nos désirs,
Youkali,
C’est le bonheur
C’est le plaisir

Mais c’est un rêve, une folie,
Il n’y a pas de Youkali!
Mais c’est un rêve, une folie,
Il n’y a pas de Youkali!

Et la vie nous entraîne,
Lassante, quotidienne,
Mais la pauvre âme humaine,
Cherchant partout l’oubli,
A pour quitter la terre,
Su trouver le mystère
Où nos rêves se terrent
En quelque Youkali…
Youkali,
C’est le pays de nos désirs,
Youkali,
C’est le bonheur,
C’est le plaisir,

Mais c’est un rêve, une folie,
Il n’y a pas de Youkali!
Mais c’est un rêve, une folie,
Il n’y a pas de Youkali!

Youkali
It’s nearly at the end of the world,
My vagabond boat,
Drifting with the waves,
Brought me there one day,
The island is very small
But the fairy who lives there
Gently invites us
To go on a trip

Youkali
It is the land of our desires
Youkali
It is happiness, it is pleasure
Youkali
It’s the earth where we leave all worries,
It is, in our night, like a clearing
The star that one follows
It’s Youkali

Youkali
It is the respect
Of all exchanged vows
Youkali,
It’s the land
Of beautiful shared loves,
It is the hope
That is at the heart of all humans
The deliverance
That we all await for tomorrow
Youkali
It’s the land of our desires
Youkali
It is happiness
It is pleasure

But it’s a dream, folly,
There is no Youkali!
But it’s a dream, folly,
There is no Youkali!

And life leads us,
Tiresome routine,
But the poor human soul,
Searches for forgetfulness everywhere,
To leave the earth,
Resolve the mystery,
Of where our dreams hide
In some Youkali…
Youkali
It’s the land of our desires
Youkali
It is happiness
It is pleasure

But it’s a dream, folly,
There is no Youkali!
But it’s a dream, folly,
There is no Youkali!

TRADITIONAL SPIRITUALS

My Soul’s Been Anchored in the Lord
In the Lord, in the Lord,
My soul’s been anchored in the Lord.
Before I’d stay in hell one day,
My soul’s been anchored in the Lord;
I’d sing and pray myself away,
My soul’s been anchored in the Lord.
I’m going to pray and never stop,
My soul’s been anchored in the Lord;
Until I’ve reached the mountain top,
My soul’s been anchored in the Lord.
You Can Tell the World
Arranged by Margaret Bonds

You can tell the world about this
You can tell the nation about that
Tell ’em what Jesus has done
Tell ’em that the Comforter has come
And He brought joy great joy to my soul.

Well, He took my feet out of the mirary clay.
Yes, He did! Yes, He did!
And He placed them on the rock to stay.
Yes, He did! Yes, He did!

You can tell the world about this
You can tell the nations about that
Tell ’em what Jesus has done
Tell ’em that the Comforter has come
And He brought joy great joy to my soul.

Well, my Lord done just what He said.
Yes, He did! Yes, He did!
He healed the sick and He raised the dead!
Yes, He did! Yes, He did!

You can tell the world about this
You can tell the nations about that
Tell ’em what Jesus has done
Tell ’em that the Comforter has come
And He brought joy great joy to my soul.

Deep River
Deep river, my home is over Jordan.
Deep river, Lord, I want to cross over into campground.
Oh, don’t you want to go to that gospel feast?
That promised land, where all is peace?
Ride on King Jesus
Ride on King Jesus,
No man can a-hinder thee.
Ride on King Jesus,
No man can a-hinder thee.

In that greatness of morning
Fair thee well, fair thee well.
In that greatness of morning
Fair thee well, fair thee well.

When I get to heaven gonna’ wear a robe,
(No man can a-hinder thee.)
Gonna’ walk all over those streets of gold.
(No man can a-hinder thee.)
When King Jesus sittin’ on the throne,
(No man can a-hinder thee.)
Joy to a man when the devil goes.
(No man can a-hinder thee.)