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Description

Cassidy Dixon, Soprano 
with  
Stephanie Baird, Piano 
Midori Ataka, Piano 

 

 

Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827) 
Ah! Perfido!                             

Claude Debussy (1862-1918) 
Cinq poèmes de Charles Baudelaire                                                  
Harmonie du soir  
Le jet d’eau 

Sergei Rachmaninoff (1873-1943) 
Opus 38                                                                                                
In my garden at night  
To her  
Daisies 

Robert Schumann (1810-1856) 
Lieder und Gesäng aus Wilhelm Meister                                         
Kennst du das land 
Nur wer die sehnsucht kennt  
Heiss mich nicht reden, heiss mich schweigen  
Singet nicht in Trauertönen  
So last mich scheinen, bis ich werde 

Victor Herbert (1859-1924)
Naughty Marietta                                                                                            
Italian Street Song 

 

 

This recital is offered in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of
Master of Music in Voice Performance. 

 

 

 

Texts and Translations

Ah! Perfido! 

Ah! perfido, spergiuro, 
Barbaro traditor, tu parti? 
E son questi gl'ultimi tuoi congedi? 
Ove s'intese tirannia pi√Ļ crudel?¬†
Va, scellerato! va, pur fuggi da me, 
L'ira de' numi non fuggirai. 
Se v'è giustizia in ciel, se v'è pietà, 
Congiureranno a gara tutti a punirti! 
Ombra seguace, presente, ovunque vai, 
Vedrò le mie vendette, 
Io già le godo immaginando. 
I fulmini ti veggo già balenar d'intorno. 
Ah no! Fermate, vindici Dei! 
Risparmiate quel cor, ferite il mio! 
S'ei non √® pi√Ļ qual era, son io qual fui,¬†
Per lui vivea, voglio morir per lui! 

Per pietà, non dirmi addio! 
Di te priva che farò? 
Tu lo sai, bell'idol mio! 
Io d'affanno morirò. 

Ah crudel! Tu vuoi ch'io mora! 
Tu non hai pietà di me? 
Perchè rendi a chi t'adora 
Così barbara mercè? 
Dite voi se in tanto affanno 
Non son degna di pietà? 

Ah! You treacherous, faithless,  
barbaric traitor, you leave?  
And is this your last farewell?  
Where did one hear of a crueller tyranny?  
Go, despicable man! Go, flee from me!  
You won't flee from the wrath of the gods.  
If there is justice in heaven, if there is pity,  
all will join forces in a contest to punish you.  
I follow your trail! I am wherever you go,  
I will live to see my revenge,  
I already take my delight in it in my imagination.
I already see you surrounded by flashes of lightning. 
 
Alas! Pause, avenging gods!  
Spare that heart, wound mine!  
If he is not what he was, I am still what I was.  
For him I lived, for him I want to die!  

Have mercy, don't bid me farewell,  
what shall I do without you?  
You know it, my beloved idol!  
I will die of grief.  

Ah, cruel man! You want me to die!  
Don't you have pity on me?  
Why do you reward the one who adores you  
in such a barbaric way?  
Tell me, if in such a grief  
I do not deserve pity? 

 

 

Cinq poèmes de Charles Baudelaire 

Harmonie du soir 

Voici venir les temps o√Ļ vibrant sur sa tige¬†
Chaque fleur s'évapore ainsi qu'un encensoir ; 
Les sons et les parfums tournent dans l'air du 
soir, 

-- Valse m√©lancolique et¬†langoureux vertige ! ‚Äst

Chaque fleur s'évapore ainsi qu'un encensoir ; 
Le violon fr√©mit comme un cŇďur qu'on¬†
afflige ; 
-- Valse mélancolique et langoureux vertige ! -- 
Le ciel est triste et beau comme un grand 
reposoir. 

Le violon fr√©mit comme un cŇďur qu'on afflige,¬†
Un cŇďur tendre, qui hait le n√©ant vaste et¬†
noir ! 
-- Le ciel est triste et beau comme un grand 
reposoir ; 
Le soleil s'est noyé dans son sang qui se fige. 

Un cŇďur tendre qui hait le n√©ant vaste et noir¬†
Du passé lumineux recueille tout vestige ; 
-- Le soleil s'est noyé dans son sang qui se 
fige ; 
Ton souvenir en moi luit comme un ostensoir ! 

Here come the moments when, quivering on 
its stem, 
each flower gives off fragrance like a censer; 
the sounds and perfumes circle in the evening 
air, 
a melancholy waltz, a languid dizziness! 

Each flower gives off fragrance like a censer; 
the violin trembles like a heart in distress, 
a melancholy waltz, a languid dizziness! 
The sky is sad and beautiful like a vast altar. 

The violin trembles like a heart in distress, 
a tender heart, which hates the huge, dark 
void! 
The sky is sad and beautiful like a vast altar; 
the sun has drowned in its own congealing 
blood. 

A tender heart, which hates the huge, dark 
void, 
gathers up every relic of the harmonious past! 
The sun has drowned in its own congealing 
blood, - 
the memory of you shines in me like a 
monstrance! 

Le jet d’eau

Tes beaux yeux sont las, pauvre amante! 
Reste longtemps, sans les rouvrir, 
Dans cette pose nonchalante 
O√Ļ t'a surprise le plaisir.¬†
Dans la cour le jet d'eau qui jase 
Et ne se tait ni nuit ni jour, 
Entretient doucement l'extase 
O√Ļ ce soir m'a plong√© l'amour.¬†

[ La gerbe épanouie 
En mille fleurs, 
O√Ļ Phoeb√© r√©jouie¬†
Met ses couleurs, 
Tombe comme une pluie 
De larges pleurs. 

Ainsi ton √Ęme qu'incendie¬†
L'√©clair br√Ľlant des volupt√©s¬†
S'élance, rapide et hardie, 
Vers les vastes cieux enchantés. 
Puis, elle s'épanche, mourante, 
En un flot de triste langueur, 
Qui par une invisible pente 
Descend jusqu'au fond de mon coeur. 

√Ē toi, que la nuit rend si belle,¬†
Qu'il m'est doux, penché vers tes seins, 
D'écouter la plainte éternelle 
Qui sanglote dans les bassins! 
Lune, eau sonore, nuit bénie, 
Arbres qui frissonnez autour, 
Votre pure mélancolie 
Est le miroir de mon amour. 

 

Your pretty eyes are tired, poor darling! 
Keeping them closed, stay a long time still 
in that nonchalant pose 
in which pleasure came upon you. 
Out in the courtyard the chattering fountain 
never silent night or day 
is gently prolonging the ecstasy 
into which love has plunged me this evening. 

The water-sheaf which waves 
to and fro its thousand flowers, 
and through which the moon 
shines its pallid rays, 
falls like a shower 
of large teardrops. 

Even so your soul, set ablaze 
by the burning flash of pleasure, 
leaps up, rapid and bold, 
towards the vast enchanted skies. 
And then it spills, dying, 
in a wave of sad languor 
down an invisible slope 
into the depths of my heart. 

Oh beloved, whom night makes so beautiful, 
as I lean over your breasts, I find it sweet 
to listen to the eternal lament 
that sobs in the fountain-basins! 
Oh moon, sounds of water, blessed night, 
oh trees trembling all around, 
your pure melancholy 
is the mirror of my love. 

Opus 38 

   In my garden at night 
At night in my garden 
the weeping willow weeps, 
and she is inconsolable, 
This dear Willow, mournful willow tree. 

Early morning flashes; 
The gentle maiden Dawn 
From dear Willow, weeping bitterly, 
Wipes away the tears with her curls. 

   To her 
Pearls adorn the grass. 
From somewhere 
I hear mournful greetings, 
Cherished greetings... 
Dear one, where are you? 
Dear one! 

The lights of evening are clear, 
The lights of evening are red, 
My arms raised, 
I await you, 
Dear one, where are you? 
Dear one? 

My arms raised, 
I await you; 
In the streams, 
Lethe washes the years away, 
Pale Lethe, 
In the streams, 
Dear one, where are you? 
Dear one! 

   Daisies
Oh, see how many daisies,
Here and there,
They blossom; they are plentiful; they are abundant. 
They blossom. 

Their petals are three-edged, like wings,
Like white silk; 
[You are the summer's might! You are abundant joy, 
You are radiant multitude!]¬Ļ¬†

Earth prepares to flower with the dew’s draught,
Giving sap to the stalks. 
Oh maidens, Oh daisy stars, 
I love you!

 

Lieder und Gesäng aus Wilhelm Meister

Kennst du das land

Kennst du das Land? wo die Citronen bl√ľhn,¬†
Im dunkeln Laub die Gold-Orangen gl√ľhn,¬†
Ein sanfter Wind vom blauen Himmel weht, 
Die Myrte still und hoch der Lorbeer steht, 
Kennst du es wohl? 
   Dahin! Dahin 
Möcht' ich mit dir, o mein Geliebter, ziehn. 

Kennst du das Haus? Auf Säulen ruht sein 
Dach, 
Es glänzt der Saal, es schimmert das Gemach, 
Und Marmorbilder stehn und sehn mich an: 
Was hat man Dir, du armes Kind, gethan? 
Kennst du es wohl? 
   Dahin! Dahin 
M√∂cht' ich mit dir, o mein Besch√ľtzer, ziehn.¬†

Kennst du den Berg und seinen Wolkensteg? 
Das Maulthier sucht im Nebel seinen Weg; 
In Höhlen wohnt der Drachen alte Brut; 
Es st√ľrzt der Fels und √ľber ihn die Flut.¬†
Kennst du ihn wohl? 
   Dahin! Dahin 
Geht unser Weg! o Vater, laß uns ziehn! 

 

Nur wer die Sehnsucht kennt 

Weiß, was ich leide! 
Allein und abgetrennt 
Von aller Freude 
Seh ich an's Firmament 

Nach jener Seite. 

Ach, der mich liebt und kennt, 
Ist in der Weite. 
Es schwindelt mir, es brennt 
Mein Eingeweide. 
Nur wer die Sehnsucht kennt 
Weiß, was ich leide! 

 

Heiß mich nicht reden, heiß mich schweigen, 

Denn mein Geheimniß ist mir Pflicht; 
Ich möchte dir mein ganzes Innre zeigen, 
Allein das Schicksal will es nicht. 

[Zur rechten]¬Ļ Zeit vertreibt der Sonne Lauf¬†
Die finstre Nacht, und sie muß sich erhellen; 
Der harte Fels schließt seinen Busen auf, 
Mißgönnt der Erde nicht die tiefverborgnen 
Quellen. 

Ein jeder sucht im Arm [des Freundes]² Ruh, 
Dort kann die Brust in Klagen sich ergießen; 
Allein ein Schwur dr√ľckt mir die Lippen zu¬†
Und nur ein Gott vermag sie aufzuschließen. 

 

Singet nicht in Trauertönen 

Von der Einsamkeit der Nacht. 
Nein, sie ist, o holde Schönen, 
Zur Geselligkeit gemacht. 

Wie das Weib dem Mann gegeben 
Als die schönste Hälfte war, 
Ist die Nacht das halbe Leben 
Und die schönste Hälfte zwar. 

Könnt ihr euch des Tages freuen, 
Der nur Freuden unterbricht? 
Er ist gut, sich zu zerstreuen; 
Zu was anderm taugt er nicht. 

Aber wenn in nächt'ger Stunde 
S√ľsser Lampe D√§mmrung flie√üt,¬†
Und vom Mund zum nahen Munde 
Scherz und Liebe sich ergießt; 

Wenn der rasche, lose Knabe, 
Der sonst wild und feurig eilt, 
Oft bei einer kleinen Gabe 
Unter leichten Spielen weilt; 

Wenn die Nachtigall Verliebten 
Liebevoll ein Liedchen singt, 
Das Gefangnen und Betr√ľbten¬†
Nur wie Ach und Wehe klingt; 

Mit wie leichtem Herzensregen 
Horchet ihr der Glocke nicht, 
Die mit zwölf bedächtgen Schlägen 
Ruh und Sicherheit verspricht. 

Darum an dem langen Tage, 
Merke dir es, liebe Brust; 
Jeder Tag hat seine Plage, 
Und die Nacht hat ihre Lust. 

 

So laßt mich scheinen, bis ich werde, 

Zieht mir das weiße Kleid nicht aus! 
Ich eile von der schönen Erde 
Hinab in jenes feste Haus. 

Dort ruh' ich eine kleine Stille, 
Dann öffnet sich der frische Blick; 
Ich lasse dann die reine H√ľlle,¬†
Den G√ľrtel und den Kranz
zur√ľck.¬†

Und jene himmlischen Gestalten 
Sie fragen nicht nach Mann und Weib, 
Und keine Kleider, keine Falten 
Umgeben den verklärten Leib. 

Zwar lebt' ich ohne Sorg und M√ľhe,¬†
Doch f√ľhlt' ich tiefen Schmerz genung.¬†
Vor Kummer altert' ich zu fr√ľhe;¬†
Macht mich auf ewig wieder jung. 

 

Do you know the land where citrons bloom, 
Golden oranges glow among dark leaves, 
A gentle wind blows from the blue sky, 
The myrtle is still, and the laurel stands tall? 
Do you know it well? 
   It is there! - there 
That I would go with you, my beloved. 

Do you know the house? Its roof rests on 
pillars. 
Its hall is resplendent, its chambers shine; 
And marble statues stand and watch me: 
What have they done to you, poor child? 
Do you know it well? 
   It is there! - there 
That I would go with you, my protector. 

Do you know the mountain and its cloud-covered ridge? 

The mule searches for its path in the mist; 
In caverns dwell the ancient spawn of 
dragons; 
Rocks tumble down, and over them, a rush of 
water! 
Do you know it well? 
That our path leads us! Oh Father, let us depart. 
    It is there! - there 

 

Only one who knows longing  
Knows what I suffer!  
Alone and cut off  
From all joy,  
I look into the firmament  

In that direction.  

Ah! he who loves and knows me  
Is far away.  
I am reeling,  
My entrails are burning.  
Only one who knows longing  
Knows what I suffer! 

 

Don't ask me to speak - ask me to be silent, 
for my secret is a [solemn] duty to me. 
I wish I could bare my soul to you, 
but Fate does not will it. 

At the right time, the sun's course will dispell 
the dark night, and it must be illuminated. 
The hard rock will open its bosom; and 
ungrudgingly, the earth will release deep 
hidden springs. 

Others may seek calm in the arms of a friend; 
there one can pour out one's heart in lament. 
But for me alone, a vow locks my lips, 
And only a god has the power to open them.  

 

Do not sing in mournful tones 
of the loneliness of Night. 
No; it was, o tender, fair ones, 
made for companionship. 

As woman was given to man 
to be his better half, 
so is Night half of life, 
and certainly the better half. 

Can you delight in the day, 
which only interrupts joy?
It is good for distraction, 
but of use for nothing else. 

But when, in that nocturnal hour,
the sweet lamps' twilight flows, 
and from mouth to neighboring mouth 
pour jests and love; 

when that quick, scampish boy 
who hurries, wild and fiery, 
often toying with a small gift 
in light play to pass the time; 

when the nightingale sings to sweethearts 
a little song full of love, 
which to the imprisoned and troubled 
sounds only like sighs and moans; 

with such a lightly stirring heart 
do you not listen to the bell, 
that, with twelve measured strokes 
promises repose and safety? 

Thus, in the long day, 
mark it well, dear heart:
every day has its troubles,
and the night has its pleasure. 

 

So let me seem, until I become so; 
don't take the white dress away from me! 
From the beautiful earth I hasten 
down into that solid house. 

There I will repose a moment in peace, 
until I open my eyes afresh; 
then I will leave behind the spotless garment, 
the girdle and the wreath. 

And those spirits of heaven 
do not ask whether one is `man' or `woman', 
and no clothes, no robes 
will cover my transfigured body. 

Although I have lived without trouble and 
toil, 
I have still felt deep pain. 
Through sorrow I have aged too soon; 
Make me forever young again!

Naughty Marietta  
Italian Street Song 

Ah, my heart is back in Napoli 
Dear Napoli, dear Napoli And I seem to hear again in dreams 
Her revelry, her sweet revelry 
The mandolinas playing sweet 
The pleasant sound of dancing feet 
Oh, could I return, oh, joy complete 
Napoli, Napoli, Napoli 
Zing, zing, zizzy, zizzy, zing, zing 
Boom, boom, aye, la, la, la, ha, ha, ha, zing 
Boom, ay 
La, la, la, la, ha, ha, ha zing, boom, ay

 
Leith Symington Griswold Hall 1 East Mount Vernon Place, Baltimore, MD 21202
8:00 pm Saturday, April 10 FREE

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