PITTSBURG STATE UNIVERSITYPittsburg, Kansas

DEPARTMENT OF MUSIC

Faculty Voice RecitalWednesday, January 26,2011

McCray Recital Hall7:30 p.m.

Stella Hastings, sopranoRobert Ensor, piano

withMatthew Herren, cello

Carol Deats, hornRobert Kehle, trombone

PROGRAM

Piccola Serenata

I HATE MUSIC!, A cycle of Five Kid Songs (1943)1. ModeratoII. Allegretto vivace

III. Sostenuto - allegro maltaIV. Can brioV. Moderato

Three from Emily1. How happy is the little stone2. The martyrs even 'trod3. Ashore at last

Matthew Herren, cello

Nocturnes1. The Moon (Shelley)

II. Returning, We Hear the Larks (Isaac Rosenberg)III. River Roses (D.H. Lawrence)IV. The Owl (Tennyson)V. Boat Song (John Davidson)

Carol Deats, horn

INTERMISSION

Leonard Bernstein(1918-1990)

Leonard Bernstein

Persis Vehar

Arnold Cooke(1906-2005)

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Modinhas e Cancoes, No. 12. Lundu da Marqueza de Santos4. A Gatinha Parda7. Evocaciio

Heitor Villa-Lobos(1887-1959)

Estacao Derradeira Chico Buarqueb. 1944

Todo Sentimento Chico Buarque

Aguas de Marco Antonio Carlos Jobim(1927-1994)

Robert Kehle, tromboneDaniel Warlop, Andrew Slater, Daniel Benitz, percussion

Kyle Ogle, bass

UPCOMING VOICE AREA EVENTS

Sunday, March 6 3:00 p.m.Sunday, March 13 3:00 p.m.Monday, March 14 7:30 p.m.Tuesday, March 29 7:30 p.m.Friday & Sunday, April 8 & 10Sunday, May 1 3:00 p.m, -

PSU Choirs ConcertSenior Voice Recital, Brittany BeedleSenior Voice Recital, Aaron WeatherbieSenior Voice Recital, Andrew HayseOpera Workshop, Scenes programPSU Choirs Oratorio Concert

www.pittstate.edu/music

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Stella Hastings - Art Song RecitalTexts & Translations

Piccola Serenata (1979), Leonard Bernstein

This song was written " ... with affection from his admiring colleague ... " on August 25, 1979 tocelebrate Karl Boehm's 85th birthday. As Jack Gottlieb explains in his notes regarding the song,"The nonsense words imply Hassidic vocalizations (perhaps a bit ironically?)."

I Hate Music! A cycle offive kid songs for soprano (1943)Words & music by Leonard Bernstein© 1988

I.My mother says that babies come in bottles;but last week she said they grew on special baby-bushes.I don't believe in the storks, either!They're all in the zoo, busy with their own babies!And what's a baby-bush, anyway!?My name is Barbara.

II.Jupiter has seven moons or is it nine?Saturn has a million, billion, trillion sixty-nine;And everyone is a little sun, with six little moons of its own!

But we have only one! Just think of all the fun we'd have ifthere were nine!

Then we could be just nine times more romantic!Dogs would bay 'til they were frantic!We'd have nine tides in the Atlantic!The man in the moon would be gigantic!

But we have only one!

III.I hate music! But I like to sing: la dee da da dee.But that's not music, not what I call music.No, sir.

Music is a lot of men in a lot of tails, making lots of noise like a lot of females;Music is a lot of folks in a big dark hall, where they really don't want to be at all;with a lot of chairs, and a lot of airs, and a lot of furs and diamonds! Music is silly!

I hate music! But I like to sing: La dee da da dee ...

1

IV.A big Indian and a little Indian were walking down the street.The little Indian was the son of the big Indian; but the big Indian was not the father of the littleIndian:

You see the riddle is, if the little Indian was the son of the big Indian,but the big Indian was not the father ofthe little Indian, who was he?I'll give you two measures: [... punch-line to be sung during the recital!]

V.I just found out today that I'm a person too, like you:I like balloons; lots of people like balloons:But everyorie says, "Isn't she cute? She likes balloons!"I'm a person too, like you!

I like things that everyone likes:I like soft things and movies and horses and warm things and red things: don't you?

I have lots ofthoughts; like what's behind the sky; and what's behind what's behind the sky:But everyone says, "Isn't she sweet? She wants to know everything!" Don't you?

Of course I'm very young to be saying all these things in front of so many people like you;but I'm a person too! Though I'm only ten years old; I'm a person too, like you!

Three from Emily (1984), Persis VeharPoems by Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)

1. How happy is the little stoneHow happy is the little StoneThat rambles in the Road alone,And doesn't care about careers,And exigencies never fears;Whose coat of elemental brownA passing universe put on,And independent as the sun,Associates or glows alone,Fulfilling absolute decreeIn casual simplicity.

2. The martyrs even trodThrough the straight pass of sufferingThe martyrs even trod,Their feet upon temptation,Their faces upon God.

A stately, shriven company;Convulsion playing round,Harmless as streaks of meteorUpon a planet's bound.

2

------_.

Their faith, the everlasting troth;Their expectation fair;The needle to the north degreeWades so, through polar air.

3. Ashore at lastOn this wondrous sea,

Sailing silently,Knowest thou the shore

Ho! pilot, ho!Where no breakers roar;

Where the storm is 0'er?

In the silent westMany sails at rest,

Their anchors fast;Thither I pilot thee, -Land, ho! Eternity!

Ashore at last!

Nocturnes (1956) by Arnold Cooke, published 1963

1. The moon, by Percy Shelley (1792-1822) , "The waning moon," published 1824

And, like a dying lady, lean and pale,Who totters forth, wrapp'd in a gauzy veil,Out of her chamber, led by the insaneAnd feeble wanderings of her fading brain,The moon arose up in the murky East,A white and shapeless mass ...

Art thou pale for wearinessOf climbing heaven and gazing on the earth,Wandering companionlessAmong the stars that have a different birth,And ever changing, like ajoyless eyeThat finds no object worth its constancy?

2. Returning, we hear the larks (1915), by Isaac Rosenberg (1890-1918)

Sombre the night is.And though we have our lives, we knowWhat sinister threat lurks there.

Dragging these anguished limbs, we only knowThis poison-blasted track opens on our camp --On a little safe sleep.

But hark! joy-joy-strange joy.

3

~I

ILo! heights of night ringing with unseen larksMusic showering on our upturned list'ning faces.

Death could drop from the darkAs easily as song --But song only dropped,Like a blind man's dreams on the sandBy dangerous tides,Like a girl's dark hair for she dreams no ruin lies there,Or her kisses where a serpent hides.

3. River Roses, D.H. Lawrence (1885-1930)

By the Isar", in the twilightWe were wandering and singing,By the Isar, in the eveningWe climbed the huntsman's ladder and sat swingingIn the fir-tree overlooking the marshes,While river met with river, and the ringingOf their pale-green glacier water filled the evening.

By the Isar, in the twilightWe found the dark wild rosesHanging red at the river;And simmering frogs were singing, and over the river closesWas savour of ice and of roses;And glimmering fear was abroad.We whispered: "No one knows us.Let it be as the snake disposesHere in this simmering marsh. "

4. The Owl, by Alfred Lord Tennyson (1809-1892) , "Song -- The owl", from Poems, ChieflyLyrical, published 1830

When cats run home and light is come,And dew is cold upon the ground,And the far-off stream is dumb,And the whirring sail goes round;Alone and warming his five witsThe white owl in the belfry sits.

When merry milkmaids click the latchAnd rarely smells the new-mown hay,And the cock has sung beneath the thatchTwice or thrice his roundelay,Alone and warming his five witsThe white owl in the belfry sits.

1Central European river flowing northeast through western Austria through southern Germany to the Danube.

4

Lamento of the Marchioness de Santos

5. Boat Song, by John Davidson (1857-1909), from Plays, as part of "Scaramouch in Naxos,"published 1889

Modinhas e Cancoes, No. 1(1938), Heitor Villa-Lobos, published 1942--translations by Terry Rooney© 2007

The boat is chafing at our long delay,And we must leave too soonThe spicy sea-pinks and the inborne spray,The tawny sands, the moon.

Keep us, 0 Thetis2, on our western flight!

Watch from thy pearly throneOur vessel, plunging deeper into nightTo reach a land unknown.

Lundii da Marqueza de Santos

Minha flor idolatradaTudo em mim e negro e tristeVive minh'alma arrasada 6 TitiliaDesde 0 dia em que partisteEste castigo tremendoja minh'alma nao resiste, Ah!Eu vou morrendo, morrendoDesde 0 dia em que partiste

Tudo em mim e negro e tristeVive minh'alma arras ada, 6 Titilia!Desde 0 dia em que partisteTudo em mim e negro e tristeEste castigo tremendo, tremendo.

Minha flor idolatradaTudo em mim e negro e tristeVive minh'almaarrasada 6 TitiliaDesde 0 dia em que partisteEste castigo tremendoja minh'alma nao resiste, AhlEu vou morrendo, morrendoDesde 0 dia em que partiste6 Titilia

- Viriato Correa (1884-1967)

Oh my idolized flowerEverything in me is dark and sadMy soul lives devastated 0 TitiliaSince the day that you leftThis tremendous punishmentMy soul can no longer bear, Ah!I am dying, dyingSince the day that you left

Everything in me is dark and sadMy soul lives devastated, 0 TitiliaSince the day that you leftEverything in me is dark and sadThis is a tremendous punishment,tremendous.

Oh my idolized flowerEverything in me is dark and sadMy soul lives devastated. 0 TitiliaSince the day that you leftThis is a tremendous punishmentMy soul can no longer bear, Ah!I am dying, dyingSince the day that you left,o Titilia ...

2 In Greek mythology, Thetis was the wife of Peleus, mother of Achilles.5

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A gatinha parda

Miaul A minha gatinha pardaEm Janeiro me fugiu,Quem achou minha gatinha,Voce sabe? Voce sabe? Voce viu?Miau!

=annonymous

My little brown kitty

Meow! My little brown kittyIn January ran awayWho has found my little kittyDo you know? Do you know? Have you seen her?Meow!

Evocacao

Numa noite estrelada de MaioSua boca beijei a sonharE 0 perfume do seu quente seioPouco a pouco me fez delirar.Eu senti neste doce momentoQue a vida p'ra mim era 0 amor de voce.

Nos seus belos cabelos de ouroOnde 0 sol se reflete a brilharEu quizera poder nieu tesouro,Entre eles viver ou morrer,Mas 0 sonho tao lindo findou-se!E eu vivo a chorar meu amor por voce.No horizonte azul deste ceoVivo a recordar meu amor.Sempre tao distanteDo meu triste olharCom a ilusao deste amor,Ahl Da recordacao viverei.E serei feliz em sonharDentro do amor da ilusao ...Assim viver, por voce. Ah!

=Silvio Salema (1901-1976)

Evocation

On a starry night in MayI kissed your mouth as in dreamAnd the perfume of your warm breastLittle by little drove me to delirium.I felt in this sweet momentThat life for me was the love of you.

In your beautiful locks of golden hairWhere the sun reflects its brillianceI would love to be able, my treasure,To live or die among them.But the dream, so lovely, ended!And I live to weep for my love of you.On the blue horizon of this skyI live to remember my love.Always so far awayfrom my sad glance.With the illusion of this loveAhl I wil1live offthe memoryAnd will be happy in dreamingWithin the love of the illusionTo live thus, for you, Ah!

6

Estacao Derradeira

Rio de ladeirasCivilizacao encruzilhadaCada ribanceira e uma nacaoA sua maneiraCom ladraoLavadeiras, honra, tradicaoFronteiras, municao pesada.

Sao Sebastiao crivadoNublai minha visaoNa noite da grandeFogueira desvairada.Quero ver a MangueiraDerradeira estacaoQuero ouvir sua batucada, ai, ai

Rio do lado sem beiraCidadaos Inteiramente loucosCom carradas de razaoA sua maneiraDe calcaoCom bandeiras sem explicacaoCarreiras de paixao danada

Sao Sebastiao crivado ...--Chico Buarque

The Last Station''

Rio (de Janeiro) of hilly streetsCrossroad of civilizationseach hill a nationin its own rightwith thieveswasher women, honor, tradition,frontiers, heavy ammunition.

St. Sebastian" pierced by arrowsfog my visionon the nightof the great bonfire.I want to see Mangueira''the last stationI want to hear its rhythm, ai, ai

Rio of the side without endCitizens gone madfor piles of reasonsin their wayin shortswith banners without explanationsparade floats of unbridled passion

St. Sebastian pierced by arrows ...

Todo 0 Sentimento All the Feelings

Preciso nao dormirAte se consumaro tempo da gente.Preciso conduzirUrn tempo de te amar,Te amando devagar e urgentemente.Pretendo descobrirNo ultimo momentoUrn tempo que refaz 0 que desfez,Que recolhe todo sentimentoE bota no corpo uma outra vez.

I need to not sleepuntil the consummationof our time.I need to guidea time to love you,loving you slowly and urgently.I intend to discoverin the last momenta time that remakes the unmadethat collects all the feelingsand puts them in the body once again.

3 Station - A Carnival/troupe' or Samba School.4 St. Sebastian - Patron Saint of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil5 Mangueira - another way of describing a Carnival troupe.

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Prometo te quererAte 0 amor cairDoente, doente ...Prefiro, entao, partirA tempo de poderA gente se desvencilhar da gente.Depois de te perder,Te encontro, com certeza,Talvez num tempo da delicadeza,Onde nao diremos nada;Nada aconteceu.Apenas seguireiComo encantado ao lado teu.

-- Chico Buarque e C. Bastos

Aguas de Marco

E pau, e pedra, e 0 fim do caminhoE urn resto de toco, e urn pouco sozinhoE urn caco de vidro, e a vida, e 0 solE a noite, e a morte, e 0 laco, e 0 anzol

E peroba do campo, e 0 no da madeiraCainga, candeia, e 0 Matita PereiraE madeira de vento, tombo da ribanceiraE 0 misterio profundo, e 0 queira ou nao queira

E 0 vento ventando, e 0 fim da ladeiraE a viga, e ovao, festa da cumeeiraE a chuva chovendo, e conversa ribeiraDas aguas de marco, e 0 fim da canseira

E 0 pe, e 0 chao, e a marcha estradeiraPassarinho na mao, pedra de atiradeiraE urna ave no ceu, e urna ave no chaoE urn regato, e urna fonte, e urn pedaco de pao

E 0 fundo do poco, e 0 fim do caminhoNo rosto 0 desgosto, e urn pouco sozinhoE urn estrepe, e urn prego, e uma ponta, e urn pontoE urn pingo pingando, e uma conta, e urn conto

6 peroba - a type of wood7 Cainga - a large tree in Brazil's northeast region8 candeia - oil-fed portable lamp9 Matita Pereira - a small bird similar to a thrush

I promise to love youuntil the love fallssick, sick ...I prefer, then, to leave,in time to make possiblea detanglement of our entanglement.After having lost youI find you, surely,perhaps in a more gentle time,when we will fall silent and say nothing;nothing happened.I will simply followas under enchantment by your side.

Waters of March (literal translation)

It's stick, it's stone, it's the end of the road,it's a rest of stump, it's a little alone.It's a shard of glass, it is life, it's the sunit is a night, it is death, it's the snare, it's the fishhook.

It's peroba" of the field, it's the knot in the wood,Calnga", candela", it's Matita Pereira9

It's the wood ofthe wind, falls ofthe ravineIt's the profound mystery, it's the hoped for or not

It is the wind blowing, it's the end of the slopeIt's the beam, its' the span, the new roof celebrationIt is the rain raining, it's the riverbank talkof the waters of March, it is the end of tiredness

It's the foot, it's the ground, it's the walk on the road,small bird in the hand, a slingshot stoneIt's a bird in the sky, it's a bird on the ground,it's a creek, it's a fountain, it's a piece of bread

it's the bottom of the well, it's the end of the wayin the face the dismay, it's a little lonelinessIt's a thorn, it's a nail, it's an edge, it's a point,it's a drop drip-dripping, it's a bill, it's a tale

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E urn peixe, 6 urn gesto, 6 uma prata bri1handoE a 1uz da manha, 6 0 tijolo chegandoE a 1enha, e 0 dia, e 0 fim da picadaE a garrafa de cana, 0 estilhaco na estrada

Eo projeto da casa, 60 corpo na camaE 0 carro enguicado, 6 a lama, 6 a lamaE urn passo, e uma ponte, 6 urn sapo, 6 uma raE urn resto de mato, na 1uz da manha

Sao as aguas de marco fechando 0 veraoE a promessa de vida no teu coracaoE pau, 6 pedra, 6 0 fim do caminhoE urn resto de toco, 6 urn pouco sozinhoE uma cobra, 6 urn pau, 6 Joao, 6 JoseE urn espinho na mao, 6 urn corte no pe

Sao as aguas de marco fechando 0 verao,E a promessa de vida no teu coracaoE pau, 6 pedra, 6 0 fim do caminhoE urn resto de toco, 6 urn pouco sozinho

E urn passo, 6 urna ponte, 6 urn sapo, e uma raE urn belo horizonte, 6 uma febre tercaSao as aguas de marco fechando 0 veraoE a promessa de vida no teu coracao.

--Carlos Antonio Jobim

It's a fish, it's a gesture, it's silver shiningit's the morning light, it's the brick arrivingIt's the firewood, it's the day, it's the end of the trailit's the bottle ofliquor, glass broken in the road

It's the house's design, its' the body in bed,it's the car broken down, it's the mud, it's the mudIt's a footstep, it's a bridge, it's a toad, it's a frog,it's a rest of brush, in the morning's light

They are the waters of March closing the summerit's the promise oflife in your heartIt's stick, it's stone, it's the end of the roadit's a rest of stump, it's a little lonelinessIt's a snake, it's a stick, it's John, it's Josephit's a thorn in the hand, it's a cut on the foot

They are the waters of March closing the summerIt's the promise oflife in your heartIt's stick, it's stone, it's the end of the roadit's a rest of stump, it's a little loneliness

It's a footstep, it's a bridge, it's a toad, it's a frog,It's a beautiful horizon, it's a tercian fever10

They are the waters of March closing the summerit's the promise of life in your heart

10 febre ter~a - high fever that lasts for three days or malaria fever9