Rackham Auditorium, Ann Arbor, Michigan
THE UNIVERSITY MUSICAL SOCIETY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN
DALTON BALDWIN, Pianist
Wednesday Evening, March 12, 1980, at 8:30 Rackham Auditorium, Ann Arbor, Michigan
Liederkreis, Op. 39.............Schumann
In der Fremde Auf einer Burg
Intermezzo In der Fremde
Die Stille Zwielicht
Mondnacht Im Walde
Schone Fremde Friihlingsnacht
Auf Fliigeln des Gesanges ..........Mendelssohn
La Courte Paille.............Poulenc
Le Sommeil Les Anges musiciens
Quelle aventure ! Le Carafon
La Reine de coeur Lune d'Avril Ba, Be, Bi, Bo, Bu . . .
Les Papillons f..............Chausson
Le Colibri J
El tra la la y el punteado...........Granados
El Majo discreto.............Granados
La Rosa y el Sauce............Guastavino
Las locas por amor..............Turina
Columbia, Philips, RCA, London, Angel, Odeon, EMI, Harmonia Mundi, DGG, Peters International, Donemus, BASF Records.
101st Season -Fifty-fourth Concert Debut and Encore Series
About the Artists
Dutch soprano Elly Ameling is universally admired as one of today's foremost lieder singers. Since her American debut at Lincoln Center in 1968, she has made annual tours of the United States and Canada. In New York City she has performed at Carnegie Hall, Lincoln Center's Mostly Mozart Festival, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, Hunter College, and Alice Tully Hall. In March 1978 she was presented on Lincoln Center's Great Performers Series, a concert so successful she was invited to give her own set of three concerts in this prestigious series during the 1979-80 season. In addition to North America, Miss Ameling has appeared in recital throughout Europe, South Africa, Japan, Australia, and South America.
While her personal preference lies in the realm of the song recital, Miss Ameling is truly at home in all forms of singing: chamber music, concerts with orchestra, oratorios, and opera. She made her American operatic debut in May 1974 at the Kennedy Center's Mozart Festival singing Ilia in Idomeneo. On this continent she has sung with the symphony orchestras of Boston, Chicago, Pittsburgh, St. Louis, San Francisco, Cincinnati, Rochester, Vancouver, Toronto, and the St. Paul and Los Angeles Chamber Orchestras; and in Europe with the Berlin Philharmonic, Concertgebouw and Philharmonia Orchestras, BBC Symphony, English Chamber Orchestra, and the Academy of St. Martin in the Fields. She opened the Caramoor Festival in both 1974 and 1977 and was soloist with the Bach Choir of Bethlehem during its annual Bach Festival in 197S. In the summer of 1976 she toured Australia and the Far East, making repeat visits during the 1977-78 season, and in June of 1979 made her debut tour of South America.
Miss Ameling's list of recordings is as impressive as it is endless. She has been awarded most of the world's coveted honors, including the Grand Prix du Disque, Edison Prize, and Stereo Review Record of the Year Award. In 1976 she recorded the complete melodies of Gabriel Faure with baritone Gerard Souzay and pianist Dalton Baldwin. A similar project devoted to the songs of Francis Poulenc was undertaken in the summer of 1978. Recent releases include the complete songs of Mozart, Vivaldi motets, Brahms lieder, and Mahler's Symphony No. 4 with Andre Previn and the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra.
For her services to music, she has been honored by her native government with knighthood-Ridder in de Orde van Oranje Nassau.
Miss Ameling first sang in Ann Arbor in 1976--we welcome this evening's "encore" recital.
In addition to his concerts with Elly Ameling, Dalton Baldwin frequently performs with Jessye Norman, William Parker, Marilyn Home, and Frederica von Stade. His long-time partnership with Gerard Souzay has taken him to all corners of the musical world. Together they have made over fifty recordings, many of which have garnered international prizes. They are presently recording the complete song repertoire of the major French composers--Debussy, Ravel, Faure, Poulenc, and Duparc.
Mr. Baldwin frequently gives lectures on the art of accompaniment, and serves as artistic director for the Art Song Festivals at Westminster Choir College (Princeton) and Boulder, Colorado. He and Mr. Souzay give masterclasses in Geneva every summer for young professional singers and accompanists from around the world--the first phase in his ultimate goal of establishing an Inter?national Academy of Vocal Arts.
Mr. Baldwin was born in the United States where he studied at The Juilliard School and Oberlin Conservatory before going to Europe to work with Nadia Boulanger and Madeleine Lipatti. He now makes his permanent home in France.
This evening marks his fourth appearance in Ann Arbor--first in 1963 with Gerard Souzay, then in 1976 with Elly Ameling and 1979 with Marilyn Home.
Sherrill Milnes, Baritone
in recital Monday, April 14 at 8:30, in Hill Auditorium
Arias by Verdi, de Mondonville, Gretry Songs by Lully, Strauss, Duparc, Finzi, Somervell, Loehr, Jordan
Tickets from 4 to $12
UNIVERSITY MUSICAL SOCIETY
Burton Memorial Tower, Ann Arbor, Michigan 48109 Phones: 66S-3717, 764-2S38
Liederkreis, Op. 39, R. SCHUMANN (1810-1856) (Joseph von Eichendorff)
In dev FremdeIn a Foreign Land From my homeland beyond the lightning red the clouds come drifting in, but father and mother are long since dead, now no one remembers me there. How soon, oh, how soon till that quiet time when I too shall rest, and above me will rustle the lovely, lonely wood, and no one will remember me here.
Your blissful image I have deep in my heart, gazing so joyously at me always. My heart sings silently a beautiful song, that soars to the sky and hastens to you.
It is late, it is cold, why ride you lonely through the wood The wood is long, you are alone, lovely bride! I will lead you home! 'Great are men's deceit and guile, sorrow has broken my heart; the horn sounds here, sounds there, oh flee! You know not who I am.' So richly decked are steed and lady, so young and fair of figure is she, now -God preserve me -I know you! You are the Sorceress Lorelei! 'You know me indeed -from lofty rock my castle gazes silent into the Rhine. It is late, it is cold, nevermore shall you leave this wood.'
Not a soul knows or guesses how happy, happy I am! Oh, if only one were to know it, then no other should. The snow outside's not so silent, nor so mute and silent the stars on high, as are my thoughts. Would I were a bird and might fly over the sea, over the sea and on, until I were in heaven!
It was as though the sky had softly kissed the earth, so that she, in a gleam of blossom, had now to dream of him.
The breeze ran through the fields, the ears of corn gently swayed, the woods rustled faintly, the night was so starry and clear. And my soul spread wide its wings, flew over the silent land, as if it were flying home.
Solr&ne FremdeBeautiful Foreign Land The tree-tops murmur and shiver, as though at this hour the half-sunken walls were paced by gods of old. Here, beyond the myrtles, in secretly darkening splendour, what do you murmur, as in a dream to me, fantastic night
The stars all sparkle upon me with glowing and loving gaze, rapturous the distance speaks as of great happiness to come.
Auf einer BurgIn a Castle
Asleep at his look-out up there, is the old knight; overhead go rain squalls, through the grill roars the wood.
Beard and hair grown into one, ruff and breast turned to stone, for centuries he has sat up there in his silent cell.
Outside is calm and quiet, all have gone to the valley, woodbirds sing, lonely, in the empty window arches. Below, a wedding passes in the sunshine on the Rhine, minstrels play merrily, and the lovely bride...weeps.
In der FremdeIn a Foreign Land I hear brooklets murmur through the wood. Amidst wood and murmur I know not where I am. Nightingales sing here in the solitude, as if wishing to tell of fair days now past. In the darting moonbeams I seem to see below me in the valley the castle which is so far from here! It is as if in the garden full of roses white and red, my beloved were waiting who is so long since dead.
Sometimes I can sing as if I were glad, yet secretly tears well and free my heart. Nightingales, when, outside, spring breezes play, let sound their song of longing from their dungeon's depth.
At which all hearts hearken, and everyone delights, yet no one feels the pain, the deep sorrow in the song.
Dusk makes to spread its wings, the trees stir awesomely, clouds come like heavy dreams-what means this dusk and dread
If you have a fawn you favour, let her not graze alone; hunters range the forest, bugling, voices flit here and there.
If on earth you have a friend, do not trust him at this hour; friendly both in look and speech, in seeming peace he schemes for war.
What, today, goes weary down, rises new-born on the morrow. Much in the night goes astray -be wary, watchful, wide-awake!
Im WaldeIn the Wood
Across the hill a wedding went, I heard birds singing, then--a flash of riders, a sounding horn, a merry hunt! And before I knew, all had died away, night covers all around, only from the hills--a forest murmur, and deep in my heart--a shudder.
Above the garden across the sky I heard the birds of passage wing, a sign that spring is in the air, that blossom time is come.
I could shout for joy, could weep, I feel it cannot be. Old wonders reappear, with the gleaming moon. And the moon and the stars say it, and the wood, dreaming, murmurs it, and the nightingales sing it: she is yours, she is yours!
FELIX MENDELSSOHN (1809-1847)
Der Mond (Emanuel Geibel)
My heart is like the dark night when all the tree tops rustle. The moon rises cautiously in full splendor from the clouds and behold! The forest becomes silent in deep quietude.
The moon, luminous moon, in its fulfilled love, throwing a glance towards me from ethereal rest. And behold! My tempestuous heart becomes calm.
Auf Flllgeln dee GesangesOn Wings of Song
On wings of song, dearest, will I bear you away, away to the Ganges meadows, where I know of the nicest place. A red-blossoming garden lies ther,e in the quiet light of the moon, the lotus flowers are waiting for their own sister dear.
The violets titter, talk fondly, and gaze to the stars above, the roses whisper their scented stories into each other's ear.
Here come leaping to listen alert and gentle gazelles, and in the distance splashing, the waves of the sacred stream.
There let us sink down beneath the palm tree, and drink in love and peace, and dream a blissful dream.
Gentle breezes are awake, murmuring, stirring night and day, everywhere active, creative. Oh fresh fra?grance, oh new sounds! Now, poor heart, be not afraid. Now must all things, all things change. Daily the world grows fairer, what may yet come, we do not know, to blooming there is no end; the farthest, deepest valley blooms: now, poor heart, forget your torment. Now must all things, all things change.
La Courte Paille___FRANCIS POULENC
The Short Straw (1899-1963)
Sleep has gone off on a journey, Gracious me! Where can it have got to I have rocked my little one in vain, he is crying in his cot, he has been crying ever since noon.
Where has sleep put its sand and its gentle dreams I have rocked my little one in vain, he tosses and turns perspiring, he sobs in his bed. Ah! Come back, come back, sleep, on your fine race?horse! In the dark sky, the Great Bear has buried the sun and rekindled his bees.
If baby does not sleep well he will not say good day. He will have nothing to say to his fingers, to the milk, to the bread that greet him in the morning.
Quelle Aventure!What Goings-On!
A flea, in its carriage, was pulling a little elephant along gazing at the shop windows where diamonds were sparkling.
--Good gracious! Good gracious! what goings-on! who will believe me if I tell them
The little elephant was absent mindedly sucking a pot of jam. But the flea took no notice, and went on pulling with a smile.
--Good gracious! Good gracious! if this goes on I shall really think I am mad!
Suddenly, along by a fence, the flea disappeared in the wind and I saw the young elephant make off, breaking through the walls.
--Good gracious! Good gracious! it is perfectly true. But how shall I tell Mummy
La Reine de CoeurThe Queen of Hearts Gently leaning on her elbow at her moon windows, the queen waves to you with a flower of the almond tree. She is the queen of hearts, she can, if she wishes, lead you in secret to strange dwellings.
Where there are no more doors, no rooms nor towers and where the young who are dead come to speak of love. The queen waves to you, hasten to follow her into her castle of hoar-frost with the lovely moon windows.
Ba, Be, Bi, Bo, Bu...
Ba, be, bi, bo, bu, be! The cat has put on his boots, he goes from door to door playing, dancing, singing. Pou, chou, genou, hibou. 'You must learn to read, to count, to write', they cry to him on all sides. But rikketikketau the cat bursts out laughing, as he goes back to the castle: he is Puss in Boots!
Lea Anges MusioiensThe Angel Musicians On the threads of the rain the Thursday angels play all day upon the harp.
And beneath their fingers, Mozart tinkles deliciously in drops of blue joy.
For it is always Mozart that is repeated endlessly by the angel musicians.
Who, all day Thursday, sing on their harps the sweetness of the rain.
traditionally the school half-day holiday in France.
Le CavafonThe Baby Carafe
'Why, complained the carafe, should I not have a baby carafe At the zoo, Madame the giraffe, has she not a baby giraffe' A sorcerer who happened to be passing by astride a phonograph, recorded the lovely soprano voice of the carafe and let Merlin hear it. 'Very good,' said he, 'very good.' He clapped his hands three times and the lady of the house still asks herself why she found that very morning a pretty little baby carafe nestling close to the carafe just as in the zoo, the baby giraffe rests its long fragile neck against the pale flank of the giraffe.
Lune D'Avril'April Moon
Moon, beautiful moon, April moon, let me see in my sleep the peach tree with the saffron heart, the fish who laughs at the sleet, the bird who, distant as a hunting horn, gently awakens the dead and above all, above all, the land where there is joy, where there is light, where sunny with primroses, all the guns have been destroyed. Beautiful moon, April moon, Moon.
ERNEST CHAUSSON (1855-1899)
Nanny (Leconte de Lisle)
Woods dear to the doves, weep, gentle leaves, and you flowing spring, and you cool footpaths, weep, 0 wild heather, holly bushes and sweet briars. Springtime, king of the green year adorned with flowers, 0 young god, weep! Ripening summer, cut your crowned tresses, and weep, reddening autumn. The anguish of loving breaks a faithful heart, earth and sky, weep! Oh! how I loved her! Dear land, speak of her no more; Nanny will never return!
Lea PapillonsThe Butterflies (Theophile Gautier) The snow-coloured butterflies fly in swarms over the sea; Beautiful white butterflies, when can I take the blue path of the air
Do you know, 0 fairest of the fair, my dancing girl with the jet black eyes, if they would lend me their wings, tell me, do you know where I would go Without taking a single kiss from the roses, across valleys and forests, I would go to your half-closed lips, flower of my soul, and there I would die.
Le ColibriThe Humming-Bird (Leconte de Lisle) The green humming-bird, the king of the hills, seeing the dew and the bright sun shining into his nest, woven of fine grasses, darts into the air like a ray of light.
He hurries and flies to the nearby springs, where bamboos make a sound like the sea, where the red hibiscus with its divine fragrance unfolds the dewy brilliance at its heart.
He descends to the golden flower, alights, and drinks so much love from the rosy cup, that he dies, not knowing if he had exhausted its nectar! On your pure lips, 0 my beloved, likewise my soul wished to die, of the first kiss which perfumed it.
ENRIQUE GRANADOS (1867-1916)
El tra la la y el punteado --
The tra la la and guitar-strum
It is useless, my majo, for you to persist, for there are some things which I answer always with a song. No matter how much you question, you will not distress me, I will not end my song.
El Majo DiseretoThe Discreet Majo They say that my majo is homely; perhaps it is so, for love is but a desire that blinds and dazzles. For a long time I have known that he who loves is blind. But if my majo is not a man who is noted for being hand?some, he is, on the other hand, discreet and keeps a secret which I confided in him knowing that he is trustworthy.
What then is the secret that the majo kept It would be indiscreet for me to tell. No little effort is needed to discover the secrets a majo has with a woman. He was born in Lavapies. Eh! Eh! He's a majo, a majo he is.
CARLOS GUASTAVINO Q). 1912)
La Rosa y el SauceThe Rose and the Willow
The rose was awakening in the weeping willow's embrace The treegod fondly impassioned adored her so! But a frivolous maiden has stolen her away, the willow unconsoled is mourning his loved one.
JOAQUIN TURINA (1882-1949)
CantaresSongs (Ramon de Campoamor)
I feel you nearest when you are far away for your image is ever before me, the shadow of my thoughts. Oh, come back and tell me again what you told me yesterday. I was so dazzled by your presence I did not hear.
Las locas por amorWomen Mad with Love
(Ramon de Campoamor)
I shall love thee, divine Venus, if you prefer That I love thee a long time and with affection. And the Cytherean goddess answered: "I prefer, as all women, to be loved for a short time and with madness."