Program Books/Jamie Barton and Jake Heggie 2122/Jamie Barton and Jake Heggie 2122 program

Program

Jake HEGGIE (b. 1961) “Music,” from The Breaking Waves
Henry PURCELL ((1659–1695))/Benjamin BRITTEN (1913–1976) “Music for a while,” from Oedipus, Z. 58
Franz SCHUBERT (1797–1828) An die Musik, D. 547
Gretchen am Spinnrade, D. 118
Rastlose Liebe, D. 138
Florence PRICE (1887–1953) We Have Tomorrow
The Poet and his Song
Night
Hold Fast to Dreams
Johannes BRAHMS (1833–1897) Unbewegte laue Luft
Meine Liebe ist grün
Von ewiger Liebe

Intermission

HEGGIE What I Miss the Most… (West Coast Premiere)

Order (Joyce DiDonato)
Time (Patti LuPone)
Action (Sister Helen Prejean)
Music (Ruth Bader Ginsberg)
You (Kathleen Kelly)

HEGGIE Of Gods and Cats

In the Beginning
Once Upon a Universe

HEGGIE Iconic Legacies (First Ladies at the Smithsonian)

Eleanor Roosevelt: Marian Anderson’s Mink Coat
Mary Todd Lincoln: Abraham Lincoln’s Hat
Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis: White House Christmas Card, 1963
Barbara Bush: The Muppets

Texts & Translations

JAKE HEGGIE

Music,” from The Breaking Waves
[Text: Sister Helen Prejean]
For almost a year I didn’t know
He could have music on death row
When I found out
I sent the tape player and headphones
And the next day, he told me:
“I listened to music all night long”
He drank music like a thirsty man
He joined the land of the living that night
I felt his joy. I feel it still.
HENRY PURCELL

Music for a while, Z. 583 No. 2, from Orpheus Britannicus, Vol. II; Realization by Benjamin Britten
[Text: John Dryden and Nathaniel Lee, from Oedipus]
Music for a while
Shall all your cares beguile:
Wond’ring how your pains were eas’d,
And disdaining to be pleas’d,
Till Alecto free the dead
From their eternal bands,
Till the snakes drop from her head
And the whip from out her hands.

FRANZ SCHUBERT

An die Musik, D. 547
[Text: Franz von Schober]
Du holde Kunst, in wieviel grauen Stunden,
Wo mich des Lebens wilder Kreis umstrickt,
Hast du mein Herz zu warmer Lieb entzunden,
Hast mich in eine beßre Welt entrückt!

Oft hat ein Seufzer, deiner Harf entflossen,
Ein süßer, heiliger Akkord von dir
Den Himmel beßrer Zeiten mir erschlossen,
Du holde Kunst, ich danke dir dafür!

To music

O sublime art, in how many gray hours,
when the wild tumult of life ensnared me,
have you kindled my heart to warm love,
have you carried me away to a better world!

Often a sigh, escaped from your harp,
a swift, solemn chord from you,
has opened the heaven of better times for me—
o sublime art, I thank you for it!

Gretchen am Spinnrade, D. 118
[Text: Johann W. von Goethe]
Meine Ruh’ ist hin,
Mein Herz ist schwer,
Ich finde sie nimmer
Und nimmermehr.

Wo ich ihn nicht hab’,
Ist mir das Grab,
Die ganze Welt
Ist mir vergällt.

Mein armer Kopf
Ist mir verrückt,
Mein armer Sinn
Ist mir zerstückt.

Nach ihm nur schau ich
Zum Fenster hinaus,
Nach ihm nur geh’ ich
Aus dem Haus.

Sein hoher Gang,
Sein’ edle Gestalt,
Seines Mundes Lächeln,
Seiner Augen Gewalt.

Und seiner Rede
Zauberfluß,
Sein Händedruck,
Und ach, sein Kuß!

Mein Busen drängt
Sich nach ihm hin.
Ach, dürft’ ich fassen
Und halten ihn,

Und küssen ihn,
So wie ich wollt,
An seinen Küssen
Vergehen sollt!

Meine Ruh’ ist hin,
Mein Herz ist schwer.

Gretchen at the spinning wheel

My peace is gone,
my heart is heavy,
never shall I find
peace ever more.

Where he is not,
there is my grave,
all the world
is bitter to me.

My poor head
is crazed,
my poor wits
are torn apart.

Only for him do I gaze
from the window,
only for him do I go
from the house.

His superior walk,
his noble form,
his mouth’s smile,
his eyes’ power.

And his words—
their magic flow,
the press of his hand,
and ah, his kiss!

My heart craves
for him,
ah, might I grasp
and hold him,

and kiss him,
as I would wish,
and upon his kisses
I should die!

My peace is gone,
my heart is heavy.

Rastlose Liebe, D. 138
[Text: J. W. von Goethe]
Dem Schnee, dem Regen,
Dem Wind entgegen,
Im Dampf der Klüfte
Durch Nebeldüfte,
Immer zu! Immer zu!
Ohne Rast und Ruh!

Lieber durch Leiden
Wollt ich mich schlagen,
Als so viel Freuden
Des Lebens ertragen.

Alle das Neigen
Von Herzen zu Herzen,
Ach, wie so eigen
Schaffet das Schmerzen!

Wie soll ich fliehen?
Wälderwärts ziehen?
Alles vergebens!
Krone des Lebens,
Glück ohne Ruh,
Liebe, bist du!

Restless love

Against the snow, the rain,
the wind,
in the mist of the ravines,
through the scent of fog,
ever on! Ever on!
Without rest and peace!

I would rather through suffering
fight myself,
than so many joys
of life endure.

All the inclining
of heart to heart,
ah, how curiously
that creates pain!

Where shall I flee?
To the forest move?
All in vain!
Crown of life,
happiness without peace,
love, this you are!

FLORENCE PRICE

We Have Tomorrow
[Text: Langston Hughes]
We have tomorrow
Bright before us
Like a flame.Yesterday
A night-gone thing,
A sun-down name.

And dawn-today
Broad arch above the road we came.

The Poet and his Song
[Text: Paul Laurence Dunbar]
A song is but a little thing,
And yet what joy it is to sing!
In hours of toil it gives me zest,
And when at eve I long for rest;
When cows come home along the bars,
And in the fold I hear the bell,
As Night, the shepherd, herds his stars,
I sing my song, and all is well.My days are never days of ease;
I till my ground and prune my trees.
When ripened gold is all the grain.
I labor hard, and toil and sweat,
While others dream within the dell;
But even while my brow is wet,
I sing my song, and all is well.

Sometimes the sun, unkindly hot,
My garden makes a desert spot;
Sometimes a blight upon the tree
Takes all my fruit away from me;
And then with throes of bitter pain
Rebellious passions rise and swell;
But—life is more than fruit or grain,
And so I sing, and all is well.

Night
[Text: Louise C. Wallace]
Night comes, a Madonna clad in scented blue.
Rose red her mouth and deep her eyes,
She lights her stars, and turns to where,
Beneath her silver lamp the moon,
Upon a couch of shadow lies
A dreamy child,
The wearied Day.
Hold Fast to Dreams
[Text: Langston Hughes]
Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken-winged bird
That cannot fly.Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow.
JOHANNES BRAHMS

Unbewegte laue Luft, Op. 57, No. 8
[Text: Georg Friedrich Daumer]
Unbewegte laue Luft,
Tiefe Ruhe der Natur;
Durch die stille Gartennacht
Plätschert die Fontäne nur.
Aber im Gemüte schwillt
Heißere Begierde mir,
Aber in den Adern quillt
Leben und verlangt nach Leben.
Sollten nicht auch deine Brust
Sehnlichere Wünsche heben?
Sollte meiner Seele Ruf
Nicht die deine tief durchbeben?
Leise mit dem Ätherfuß
Säume nicht, daherzuschweben!
Komm, o komm, damit wir uns
Himmlisches Genüge geben!
Mild, unagitated air

Mild, unagitated air,
Nature in deep repose;
In the still garden night
Only the fountain splashes.
But in my soul swell
More ardent desires,
But in my veins surges
Life and craves life.
Should not more ardent
Wishes exalt your breast too?
Should my soul’s call
Not deeply thrill your soul?
Softly, on ethereal feet,
Float to me, do not tarry!
Come, oh come, that we may give
Each other heavenly satisfaction!

Meine Liebe ist grün, Op. 63, No. 5
[text by Felix Schumann]
Meine Liebe ist grün wie der Fliederbusch,
Und mein Lieb ist schoen wie die Sonne,
Die glänzt wohl herab auf den Fliederbusch
Und füllt ihn mit Duft und mit Wonne,
Meine Seele hat Schwingen der Nachtigall
Und wiegt sich in blühendem Flieder,
Und jauchzet un singet vom Duft berauscht
Viel lieberstrunkene Lieder.
My love is green

My love is green like the lilac bush,
And my beloved is fair like the sun!
It shines upon the lilac bush
And fills it with fragrance and delight.
My soul has wings of the nightingale
And floats in the blossoming lilac,
And shouts and sings, overcome by the fragrance,
Many songs that are drunk with love.

Von ewiger Liebe, Op. 43, No. 1
[Text: August Heinrich Hoffmann von Fallersleben]
Dunkel, wie dunkel in Wald und in Feld!
Abend schon ist es, nun schweiget die Welt.
Nirgend noch Licht und nirgend noch Rauch,
Ja, und die Lerche, sie schweiget nun auch.Kommt aus dem Dorfe der Bursche heraus,
Gibt das Geleit der Geliebten nach Haus,
Führt sie am Weidengebüsche vorbei,
Redet so viel und so mandcherlei:

»Leidest du Schmach und betrübest du dich,
Leidest du Schmach von andern um mich,
Werde die Liebe getrennt so geschwind,
Schnell wie wir früher vereiniget sind.
Scheide mit Regen und scheide mit Wind,
Schnell wie wir früher vereiniget sind.«

Spricht das Mägdelein, Mägdelein spricht:
»Unsere Leibe, sie trennet sich nicht!
Fest is der Stahl und das Eisen gar sehr,
Unsere liebe ist fester noch mehr.

Eisen und Stahl, man schmiedet sie um,
Unsere Liebe, wer wandelt sie um?
Eisen und Stahl, sie können zergehn,
Unsere Liebe muß ewig bestehn!«

Of eternal love

Dark, how dark it is in the forest and field!
Night has fallen, the world is now silent.
Nowhere a light and nowhere smoke.
Yes, and the lark is now silent, too.

From the village yonder there comes the young lad,
taking his beloved home.
He leads her past the willow bushes,
talking much, and of many things:

“If you suffer shame and if you grieve,
if you suffer disgrace before others because of me,
then our love shall be ended ever so fast,
as fast as we once came together;
it shall go with the rain and go with the wind,
as fast as we once came together.”

Then says the maiden, the maiden says:
“Our love can never end!
Strong is steel and iron,
yet our love is stronger still.

Iron and steel, they can be forged over,
but our love, who can change this?
Iron and steel can disintegrate,
but our love must remain forever!”

JAKE HEGGIE

What I miss the Most…(West Coast Premiere)
Order
[Text: Joyce DiDonato]
The order comes swiftly, whispered yet firm:
Be Quiet.
Be Silent.
And come Return.The accompanying light shines stark, harsh and true:
Unequal.
Hollow.
All Torn-Through.

The aching moment awakens, resonant and pure:
Grieve.
Rest.
And now … Breathe sure.

The new dawn arrives, hopeful yet stern:
Renew.
Refresh.
And All Return.

Time
[Text: Patti LuPone]
What I miss the most in this unprecedented time is… huh.
What do I miss?I have Time in the fullness of the word.
Time to reflect on my life and how I live it.
Improvements are definitely in order.
But I don’t think I miss anything.

I’ve been given Time.
Time with my family, home safe and all together.
Time to look out at Mother Nature,
to marvel at the glory she presents us every day.

I miss a paycheck and that’s scary.
But, if I weigh the need to work
and Time with loved ones
I don’t miss anything.

Action
[Text: Sister Helen Prejean, CSJ]
At first, when it hit mid-March,
I thought: Glee!
I get to be home to plant flowers
Home to read books
To have hours for meditation
Reflection
For me…But conscience, that moral membrane
Makes me porous
Susceptible
To the cries of prisoners
Crowded
Locked down
And anxious families
Cut off
Cut out

What can one person do?

Guilt is not a bad thing.
It can be a sort of WD40
Greasing my moral gears to act:
Do something.
Do something!
DO SOMETHING!

Music
[Text: Ruth Bader Ginsburg]
One of the things I miss:
Music made by many in unison.
Virtual collaboration,
good as it is,
pales in comparison.
You
[Text: Kathleen Kelly]
There you are. Your voice, your hair.
The frayed neck of my old shirt draping the rise of your collarbone.
No one else.
It’s you, it’s all of your things.
You look up to the right when you search for a word,
You look down with a smile,
Then straight at the camera. Your wide eyes.I see you see me.

You purse your lips to tell me what you will not say.

I thought I would say, it’s a sad substitution,
But my fatigued eyes would gaze at you all day.
At night, you move across the screen of my eyelids,

In the morning, you call.
Your hand is in your hair. You look away, through that other window.

I bow toward the screen,
I take a long drink of your invisible breath.

Of Gods and Cats
[Text: Gavin Dillard]
In the Beginning
In the beginning was the cat
And the cat was without purr…
The ether stirred and there was milk,
And the cat saw that it was good,
It was good…A hand stretched forth across the milk
And scratched behind the cats ears
And it felt good…

Then the firmament shook
And there was produced a paper bag!
And the cat went forth into the bag
And seeing that it was good,
She fell asleep purring.

Once Upon a Universe
Once when God was a little boy
His mother caught Him breaking His toys
And gluing them back together again
With prayers and incantations.“Don’t play with Your creations,” she admonished him.
“Amen.”

But He went right on building temples
Only to destroy them with vast armies
Of ant-like people.
Creating new planets and wiping them out
With their on ignominious waste products.

At the end of eternity
His mother shook her cosmic finger
And insisted that He clean up His universe,
“Or there’ll be no bliss for you, young God! Amen.”

He swept the entire mess into the nearest black hole
And fell asleep sucking His divine thumb.

Allelu… Alleluia!

Iconic Legacies (First Ladies at the Smithsonian)
[Text: Gene Scheer]
ELEANOR ROOSEVELT:
Marian Anderson’s Mink Coat
Listen!
Listen!
Marian Anderson is singing
of thee.
Beyond compromise,
Beyond recrimination,
Beyond the anger of a divided nation
Marian Anderson is singing.Wearing this elegant mink,
she stood on the steps beneath Lincoln’s stony stare,
intoned our nation’s hymn
and let freedom ring and ring and ring.
Oh what a sound!
Of thee I sing.

There are some paths no map will ever trace.
But, from Lincoln’s steps
to Charleston’s “Amazing Grace”
I think about what she showed us that day:
No one can make you feel inferior
without your consent. No one.

Who are we?
Beyond compromise,
Beyond recrimination,
Beyond the anger of a divided nation
Marian Anderson is singing
of thee.

MARY TODD LINCOLN:
Abraham Lincoln’s Hat
Your measured gestures mock me.
Words of kindness feel like crimes.
In a world where this can happen
Only madness rhymes.I am drowning, but will not die.
Rip the stars from out the sky.
The ship is lost and you pretend
We’ll find our way, the pain will end.

Your measured gestures mock me.
Words of kindness feel like crimes.
In a world where this can happen
Only madness rhymes.

He wore this hat the day he died.
A grieving nation cried.
But long before – for me –
He wore it as an elegy.

Around his hat he tied a mourning band.
Spoke through tears, but – somehow –
Did not understand.
“Oh, husband! Oh, my Abraham!” I said
“Our son, our world, our William is dead.”

I am drowning, but will not die.
Rip the stars from out the sky.
The ship is lost and you pretend
We’ll find our way, the pain will end.

Your measured gestures mock me.
Words of kindness feel like crimes.
In a world where this can happen
Only madness rhymes.

JACQUELINE KENNEDY ONASSIS:
White House Christmas Card, 1963
Jack walked into the room and said:
“Diamonds! Minks and diamonds!
That’s what they’ll be wearing in Dallas.”I looked up from signing a Christmas card:
“What would you like me to do?”
He said: “Let me help you choose.”

I was delighted! We’d never done this before.
The beige and white dress? No?
The blue and yellow suit? Maybe?
The pink Chanel?

“Yes! Yes!” he said “Wear that.
With the hat.”

Before I left the room, I said:
“Jack, I just started the Christmas cards.
There… add your name.”

Fifty hours later, I walked back into the bedroom
Wearing the pink Chanel suit he had chosen
Covered in his blood.

And there it was, signed by both of us:
A Christmas card propped on the table
Like a question mark.

Oh Jack, what would you like me to do?

BARBARA BUSH: The Muppets
This is Pete. He looks like a piano, but wait…It’s magic!
A squiggle, a curve, a line
blossoms into a letter,
a letter into a word.
Then words that rhyme
and phrases like “Once upon a time.”

It’s magic! The phrase becomes the mountain
you’re climbing that – oh, my goodness! –
might not be a mountain at all!
But an incredibly fleet, not petite,
very sweet dinosaur named Pete,
who wakes and takes you on his shoulders
where the water splashes and flows
and tickles the end of your nose
with a drip, drip, drop and a tiny tap.
And all of this happens from your mother’s lap.

Imagine! You can travel anywhere.
And it all begins with “Once upon a time.”
Four little words.
Imagine you could not read them to your child.

Something must be done, I thought.
Which is how I made my way to Sesame Street.
Surrounded by dozens of muppets
you discover your cup it’s
overflowing with possibility.
Fabric, buttons and thread.
Dreams woven from Jim Henson’s head.
An alphabet of riffs and dreams.

And suddenly you’re on
the incredibly fleet, not petite,
very sweet dinosaur named Pete
whose feet treat you to a ride
to the gate through a berry patch.
There’s a sign on the latch.
And for the first time – all by yourself –
You read the words: “Once upon a time.”

Thanks, Pete!