SONOKLECT '97-'98 A Concert Series of Twentieth-Century Music

Terry Vosbein, Director

"Did I Sing Too Loud?"

A Vocal Festival

Lawrence Evans, baritone Kathryn Thomas-Moyer, soprano

Scott Williamson, tenor Victoria Berneking, piano

WASHINGTON AND LEE UNIVERSITY

KELLER THEATRE• 8:00 P.M. • 21 MARCH 1998

PROGRAM

THE SECOND VIENNESE SCHOOL

Vier Lieder, op. 2 (1910) Alban Berg (1885-1935) Dem Schmerz sein Recht (Hebbel) Drei Lieder aus "Der Gliihende" (Mombert) I. Schlafend triigt man

II. Nun ich der Riesen Starken iiberwand III. Warm die Liifte

Afr. 'Wif{iamson and Afs. 'BerneKjng

THE FIRST AMERICAN SCHOOL

Three Songs Charles Ives (1874-1954) Tom Sails Away (McCrae) At the River (Lowry) Charlie Rutlage (cowboy song)

Afr. 'Evans and Afs. 'BerneKjng

from Twelve Poems of Emily Dickinson (1950) Nature, the Gentlest Mother Why do the y shut Me out of Heaven? Dear March, Come in!

from Hermit Songs (1953) St. lta's Vision (anonymous Irish) The Crucifixion Sea-Snatch Promiscuity

Aaron Copland (1900-1990)

Samuel Barber (1910-1981)

']v[s. Afoyer and :Ms. 'BerneKjng

INTERMISSION

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CENTENNIAL CELEBRATIONS

Three Elegies (1939) poetry of Bertolt Brecht (1898-1956)

In die Stiidte kam ich An die Uberlebenden An den kleinen Radioapparat

Hanns Eisler (1898-1962)

from Der Kaiser van Atlantis (1943) Viktor Ullmann (1898-1944) Nr. II Prtiludium Nr. III (Harlekin, Tod) Nr. IV Duett (Harlekin, Tod) Nr. V (Harlekin, Tod) Nr. VI Arie des Tades (Tod)

Afr. 'Evans, Afr. Wif{iamson, Afs. '13erneKJng

Two Songs (1927) The Seal Man (Masefield) Eight O'Clock (Housman)

Rebecca Clarke (1886-1979)

from Who are these children? op. 84 (1969) Benjamin Britten (1913-1976) poetry of William Soutar (1898-1943)

Who Are These Children? The Auld Aik

Afr. Wi{{iamson ana Afs. '13erneK.ing

NEW SETTINGS OF EMILY DICKINSON

I died for Beauty (1998) Terry Vosbein Hope is the thing with feathers (1986)

Afr. 'Evans ana Afs. '13erneK.ing

This quiet Dust (1996) Scott Williamson Wild Nights I meant to find Her

'Ms. Afoyer ana 'Ms. '13erneKJng

PCease join us for a reception in tfie {o66y foffowing tfie program.

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TEXTS

Vier Lieder by Alban Berg

Dem Schmerz sein Recht (Hebbel)

To sleep, to sleep, merely to sleep, not to wake, not to dream,

Scarcely recalling, even faintly, those woes that afflicted me, so that, when life's fullness sounds down to where I rest I may simply cover myself more deep ly and close my eyes more tightly!

Drei Lieder aus "Der Gliihende" (Mombert)

Schlafend triigt man

Sleeping, I am carried to my homeland,

From afar I come, over peaks and gorges, over a dark sea, to my homeland.

Nun ich der Riesen Stiirken iibenvand

Now I have overcome the strongest of the giants, from the darkest land have found my way home to a white legendary hand.

The bells reverberate loudly, and I stagger throug h the streets, numbed with sleep.

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Warm die Liifte

Warm are the breezes, grass sprouts from sunny meadows.

Hark! Hark, the nightingale is piping ... I will sing:

High aloft in the sombre mountain forest cold snow is melting and dripping: a girl clad in grey is leaning against an oak's moist trunk; her tender cheeks are sick, her grey eyes feverish through the gloomy giant trees.

"Still he does not come! He keeps me waiting!"

Die! One dies, beside him the other lives:

that makes the world so deeply beau tiful.

Three Songs by Charles Ives

Tom Sails Away (McCrae) Scenes from my childhood are with me, I'm in the lot behind our house up on the hill, a spring day's sun is setting, mother with Tom in her arms is coming towards the garden; the lettuce rows are showing green. Thinner grows the smoke oe'r the town, stronger comes the breeze from the ridge, 'Tis after six, the whistles have blown, the milk train's gone down the valley Daddy is coming up the hill from the mill, We run down the lane to meet him But today! In freedom's cause Tom sailed away for over there, Scenes from my childhood are floating before my eyes.

At The River (Robert Lowry) Shall we gather at the river, Where bright angel feet have trod, With its crystal tide for ever flowing by the throne of God? Yes, we'll gather at the river, The beautiful, the beautiful river, Yes we'll gather at the river that flows by the throne of God.

Charlie Rutlage (cowboy song) Another good cowpuncher has gone to meet his fate, I hope he'll find a resting place, within the golden gate, Another place is vacant on the ranch of the X IT, 'Twill be hard to find another that's liked as well as he. The first that died was Kid White, a man both tough and brave, While Charlie Rutlage makes the third to be sent to his grave, Caused by a cowhorse falling, While running after stock; 'Twas on the spring round up, A place where death men mock, He went forward one morning on a circle through the hills, He was gay and full of glee, and free from earthly ills; But when it came to finish up the work on which he went, Nothing came back from him; his time on earth was spent. 'Twas as he rode the round up, a X IT turned back to the herd; Poor Charlie shoved him in again, his cutting horse he spurr ed; Another turned; at that moment his horse the creature spied and turned and fell with him, beneath poor Charlie died, His relations in Texas his face never more will see, But I hope he'll meet his loved ones beyond in eternity, I hope he'll meet his parents, will meet them face to face, And that they'll grasp him by the right hand at the shining throne, the shining throne, the shining throne of grace.

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Twelve Poems of Emily Dickinson by Aaron Copland

1 6 Nature-the Gentlest Mother is, Impatient of no Child-The feeblest-or the waywardest­Her Admonition mild -

In Forest-and the Hill-By Traveller-be heard­Restraining Rampant Squirrel­Or too impetuous Bird-

How fair Her Conversation-A Summer Afternoon-Her Household - Her Assembly­And when the Sun go down -

Her Voice among the Aisles Incite the timid prayer Of the minutest Cricket-The most unworthy Flower-

When all the Children sleep­She turns as long away As will suffice to light Her lamps­Then bending from the Sky-

With infinite Affection-And infiniter Care-Her Golden finger on Her lip­Wills Silence-Everywhere-

3 Why-do they shut Me out of Heaven? Did I sing-too loud? But-I can say a little "Minor" Timid as a Bird! Wouldn't the Angels try me­Just-once-more­Just-see-if I troubled them­But don't-shut the door!

Oh, if I-were the Gentleman In the "White Robe"-And they-were the little Hand-that

knocked-Could-I-forbid?

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Dear March - Come in­How glad I am-I hoped for you before-Put down your Hat-You must have walked­How out of Breath you are-Dear March, how are you, and the Rest­Did you leave Nature well-Oh March, come right up stairs with me-­I have so much to tell-

I got your Letter, and the Birds-The Maples never knew that you were

coming-till I called I declare-how red their Faces grew­But March, forgive me-and All those Hills you left for me to Hue­There was no Purple suitable-You took it all with you-

Who knocks? That April. Lock the Door-I will not be pursued-He stayed away a Year to call When I am occupied-But trifles look so trivial As soon as you have come

That Blame is just as dear as Praise And Praise as mere as Blame-

Hermit Songs by Samuel Barber

St. lta's Vision "I will take nothing from my Lord," said she, "unless He gives me His Son from Heaven In the form of a Baby that I may nurse Him." So that Christ came down to her in the form of a Baby and then she said: "Infant Jesus, at my breast, Nothing in this world is true Save, 0 tiny nursling, You. Infant Jesus, at my breast, By my heart every night, You I nurse are not A churl but were begot On Mary the Jewess by Heaven's Light . Infant Jesus, at my breast, what King is there but You who could Give everlasting Good? wherefor I give my food. Sing to Him, maidens, sing your best! There is none that has such right To your song as Heaven 's King Who every night Is Infant Jesus at my breast."

The Crucifixion At the cry of the first bird They began to crucify Thee, 0 Swan! Never shall lament cease because of that , It was like the parting of day form night. Ah, sore was the suffering borne By the body of Mary's Son, But sorer still to Him was the grief Which for His sake Came upon His Mother.

Sea-Snatch It had broken us, it has crushed us, it has drowned us, 0 King of the starbright Kingdom of Heaven; the wind has consumed us, swallowed us, as timber is devoured by crimson fire form Heaven. It has broken, us, it has crushed us, it has drowned us, 0 King of the starbright Kingdom of heaven!

Promiscuity I do not know with whom Edan will sleep, but I do know that fair Edan will not sleep alone.

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Three Elegies by Hanns Eisler Poetry of Bertolt Brecht

In die Stiidte kam ich

I came to the cities in a time of disorder

When hunger reigned there. I came among men in a time of

revolt And I rebelled with them. So passed my time Which had been given to me on earth.

My food I ate between battles To sleep I lay down among murderers . Love I practised carelessly And nature I looked at without

patience . So passed my time Which had been given to me on earth.

All roads led into the mire in my time. My tongue betrayed me to the

butchers. There was little I could do. But

those in power Sat safer without me: that was my hope. So passed my time Which had been given to me on earth.

Our forces were slight. Our goal Lay far in the distance. It was clearly visible, though I myself Was unlikely to reach it. So passed my time Which had been given to me on earth.

An die Uberlebenden

You who will emerge from the flood In which we have gone under Remember When you speak of our failings The dark time too Which you have escaped.

For we went, changing countries oftener than our shoes

Through the wars of the classes, despairing

When there was injustice only, and no rebellion.

And yet we know: Hatred, even of meanness Contorts the features. Anger, even against injustice Makes the voice hoarse. Oh we Who wanted to prepare the ground

for friendliness Could not ourselves be friendly.

But you, when the time comes at last And man is a helper to man Think of us With forbearance.

An den kleinen Radioapparat

You little box I carried on that trip Concerned to save your works from getting broken

Fleeing from house to train, from train to ship So I might hear the hated jargon spoken.

Beside my bedside and to give me pain Last thing at night, once more as dawn appears

Charting their victories and my worst fears; Promise at least you won't go dead again!

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Der Kaiser von Atlantis by Viktor Ullman Libretto by Peter Kien

Nr. 2: Priiludium Harlequin and Death are sitting on a bench. Harlequin, a bearded old man, is singing . Death, in a threadbare uniform dating from Habsburg times, is drawing patterns with his sabre in the sand.

Nr. 3: Harlequin's Aria The moon strides over the hills on stilts, the boys thirst for love and wine. She has taken them both away, they will not come back again. What are we to drink now? We'll drink blood now. What are we to kiss now? The devil 's backside. The world's all topsy-turvy, whirling like a merry-go-round. We're riding on the coachman 's seat. The moon is white, blood is hot, wine is sweet, love is in paradise. What remains for us in this poor world? We'd sell our souls at the nearest fair. Will no-one buy us? As we all want to be rid of ourselves, we'll have to go wherever the four winds blow us . Ah!

Death Shut up! What is there to sing about?

Harlequin I'm only singing .

Death What day is it today?

Harlequin I ceased to notice the changing days when I was no longer able to change my shirt each day, and so I only change days when I put on clean linen.

Death That means you must still be stuck in last year.

Harlequin Perhaps it's Tuesday? Wednesday? Friday? One's the same as another.

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Nr. 4: Duett Death Days, days, who will buy some days?

Death, Harlequin Days, days, who will buy some days? Fine new days, not yet used. One's the same as another, etc. Perhaps one will bring good luck, and then you'll be a king. Old days, cheap at the price -who will buy some days? etc.

Harlequin I have nothing left to live for since I began to despise myself. You ought to do away with me-that's your job, after all. I'm so bored, I can't bear it anymore.

Death Leave me alone. You can't be done away with. Laughter which knows how to mock itself is immortal. You can't escape, you will always be Harlequin.

Nr. 5: Harlequin And what is that? A memory, paler than the yellowed photographs of those men who no longer know how to smile. I can't make anyone laugh. If only I could forget the taste of young wine, if only I could respond once more to the unfamiliar touch of a woman.

Death You make me laugh with your talk. You are hardly three hundred years old, while I've been around since time began! Now I am old and can't keep up any more. But you should have seen me once!

Nr. 6: Arie des Todes Death They had such wars then, when people used to wear the most splendid clothes ­and all in my honour!

Gold and purple, shining suits of armour: warriors used to array themselves in their finery, like a bride preparing herself for her husband-to-be.

Colorful banners would flutter over the cavalry, the infantry would play dice on the battle-drum ; and when they danced, the bones of the women would crack and they would become damp with the sweat of their partners.

I have raced so often alongside Attila's horses, Hannibal's elephants and Genghis Khan's tigers that my bones are too weak now to follow the motorised cohorts. All I can do is limp after the new angels of death; I am no more than death's lackey.

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·(

Two Songs by Rebecca Clarke

The Seal Man (John Masefield) And he came by her cabin to the west of the road, calling. There was a strong love came up in her at that, and she put down her sewing on the table, and "Mother," she says, "There's no lock,

and no key, and no bolt, and no door. There's no iron, nor no stone,

nor anything at all will keep me this night from the man I love." And she went out into the moonlight to him, there by the bush where the flow'rs is pretty, beyond the river, And he says to her: "You are all of the beauty of the world, will you come where I go, over the waves of the sea?"

And she says to Him: "My treasure and my strength," she says, "I would follow you on the frozen hills, my feet bleeding ." Then they went down into the sea together, and the moon made a track on the sea, and they walked down it;

it was like a flame before them. There was no fear at all on her;

only a great love like the love of the Old Ones, that was stronger than the touch of the fool. She had a little white throat, and little cheeks like flowers,

and she went down into the sea with her man, who wasn't a man at all. She was drowned, of course. It's like he never thought that she wouldn't bear the sea like himself. She was drowned, drowned.

Eight O'clock (A. E. Housman) He stood, and heard the steeple sprinkle the quarters on the morning town. One, two, three, four, to market place and people It tossed them down. Strapped, noosed, nighing his hour, He stood and counted them and cursed his luck And then the clock collected in the tower its strength and struck.

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Who Are These Children? by Benjamin Britten Poetry of William Soutar

Who Are These Children?

With easy hands upon the rein,

And hounds at their horses' feet,

The ladies and the gentlemen

Ride through the village street.

Brightness of blood upon the coats

And on the women's lips:

Brightness of silver at the throats

And on the hunting whips .

Is there a dale more calm, more green

Under this morning hour;

A scene more alien than this scene

Within a world at war?

Who are these children gathered here

Out of the fire and smoke

That with remembering faces stare

Upon the foxing folk?

The Auld AikU>

The auld aik's doun:

The auld aik's doun:

Twa hunner year it stude, or mair,

But noo it's doun, doun.

The auld aik's doun:

The auld aik's doun:

We were sae shair it wud aye be there,

But noo it's doun, doun,

but noo it's doun, doun, doun.

(1) oak

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New Settings of Emily Dickinson by Terry Vosbein and Scott Williamson

I died for Beauty - but was scarce Adjusted in the Tomb When One who died for Truth, was lain In an adjoining Room -

He questioned softly "Why I failed"? "For Beauty", I replied -" And I - for Truth - Themself are

One-We Brethren, are", He said -

And so, as Kinsmen, met a Night -We talked between the Rooms -Until the Moss had reached our lips -And covered up - our names -

"Hope" is the thing with feathers -That perches in the soul -And sings the tune without the words -And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard-

And sore must be the storm -That could abash the little Bird That kept so many warm -

I've heard it in the chillest land -And on the strangest Sea -Yet, never, in Extremity, It asked a crumb - of Me.

This quiet Dust was Gentlemen and Ladies

And Lads and Girls -Was laughter and ability and Sighing And Frocks and Cur ls.

This Passive Place a Summer's nimble mansion Where Bloom and Bees Exists an Oriental Circuit Then cease, like these -

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Wild Nights - Wild Nights! Were I with thee Wild Nights should be Our luxury!

Futile - the Winds -To a Heart in port -Done with the Compass -Done with the Chart!

Rowing in Eden -Ah, the Sea! Might I but moor - Tonight -In Thee!

I meant to find Her when I came -Death - had the same design -But the Success - was His - it

seems-And the Surrender - Mine -

I meant to tell Her how I longed For just this single time -But Death had told Her so the first -And she had past, with Him -

To wander - now - is my Repose -To rest - To rest would be A privilege of Hurricane To memory - and Me.

Scott 'Wi{{iamson

Scott Williamson is in his second year as a member of the Washington and Lee University music faculty, where he teaches voice in add ition to directing the University Chorus . He also is music director of the Shenandoah Valley Choral Society in Harrisonburg and the Thomas Jefferson Memorial Church in Charlottesville and serves as the Virginia chair for the Stud ent Activities Committee of the American Choral Directors Association. A native of Chesapeake, Virginia, Mr. Williamson holds degrees in Sacred Music from James Madison University, and Choral Conducting and Voice Performance/ Pedagogy from Westminster Choir College.

As a member of the Westminster Choir, Mr. Williamson performed with major U. S. orchestras, at the International Music Festival in Tapei, Taiwan, and was a soloist at the International Music Seminar in Colmar, France. His work abroad also includes study and performances at the International Music Seminar of the Franz Liszt Hochschule in Weimar, and the International Youth Festival in Bayreuth, where he now serves as an assistant conductor and guest recitalist. For three years he was a member of the opera chorus at the Spoleto Festival, USA, in Charleston, SC; this past year he was a member of the Spoleto Festival Choir in Italy.

Mr. Williamson has served as graduate assistant to Maestro Joseph Flummerfelt and the Westminster Choir, music director of the St. Luke Lutheran Church in Willingboro, NJ, and assistant conducto r of the James Madison University Chorus. He also has worked with Westminster Opera Theatre, the Westminster Community Orchestra, the Classical Artists of New Jersey, the James Madison University Symphony Orchestra, and the University­Shenandoah Symphony Orchestra.

Lawrence 'Evans

Lawrence Evans has sung in a variety of musical performances rang ing from the operas of Mozart and Rossini and the contemporary works of Britten and Henze to liturgical music dramas of the twelfth century. Among his many credits are performances of Elijah, The Creation, St. Matthew Passion, The Messiah and Mozart's Requiem. His operatic roles include Figaro (The Marriage of Figaro), Germont (La Traviata), Guglielmo (Cosi fan Tutte), Scarpia (Tosca), Don Geronio (The Turk in Italy), and over thirty supporting and character roles. This spring he will be singing various cantatas of J. S. Bach with the Rockbridge Choral Society, Christ Episcopal Church in Roanoke and the Shenandoah Valley Bach Festival in Harrisonburg. Mr. Evans received degrees in voice from The University of Oregon and Boston University. He presently lives in Rockbridge County near Lexington, Virginia.

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'Victoria :Bernekjng Victoria Berneking is professor of music and director of the accompanying

program at James Madison University. She is active throughout the east coast as a collaborative pianist, including appearances at Carnegie Hall and the Kennedy Center. Ms. Berneking has performed with Pasblo Elvira, Joseph Robinson, Harold Robinson, Harvey Phillips and Peter Lloyd . She has served as accompanist for the Peter Lloyd master classes for the last six years. Ms. Berneking's principal teachers were Thomas Mastroianni, John Wustman, Dalton Baldwin, and Wesley True. She has recorded for the Golden Crest and Roncorp labels.

1(atfiryn 'Tfiomas -Moyer Kathryn Thomas-Moyer holds a Master of Music degree from Manhattan

School of Music, where she was recipient of a full merit scholarship, and a Bachelor of Music degree from Westminster Choir College in Princeton, New Jersey, where she was a recipient of the James E. Thomson Award for Vocal Excellence. Ms. Moyer performed the role of Emilia in the American Premiere of Handel's Flavia at the Westminster Opera Theater. Among many solo recitals and concer ts is her European debut as soprano soloist in Faure's Requiem at the Festival dei Due Mondi in Spoleto, Italy under the direction of Joseph Flummerfelt. Ms. Moyer participates regularly in the Spoleto Festival in Spoleto, Italy.

Ms. Moyer is a featured soloist on the recording, 0 Magnum Mysterium, made in August 1992, in which Joseph Flummerfelt "reunited some of the Westminster Choir's most talented singers from recent years." In August 1995, Ms. Moyer again joined other Westminster Choir alumni in the making of a new recording, Like as a Hart.

Ms. Moyer has appeared as guest soloist in the Singing City Choir Anniversary Concert in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, performing Faure's Requiem, Bach's Cantata No.150, and Britten's Festival te deum; with the Kingsport Symphony Orchestra and Chorus in Kingsport, Tennessee, in A German Requiem by Johannes Brahms; and with the Bristol Concert Choir and Orchestra in Bristol, Virginia, in the B minor Mass by J. S. Bach. Ms. Moyer has also performed Bach's Cantata No. 51 (Jauchzett Gott). She has also sung under such noted conductors as Riccardo Muti, Leonard Bernstein, Kurt Masur, Robert Shaw, Erich Leinsdorf and Rafael Kubelik. Ms. Moyer has appeared as soloist in many performances at the Brick Presbyter ian Church in New York City, including A German Requiem by Johannes Brahms, Cantata No. 80 by J. S. Bach, and the Messiah by G. F. Handel. Ms. Moyer toured with The National Opera Company in the role of Mimi in Puccini's La Boheme. A highlight for Ms. Moyer was singing for Dame Joan Suther land at the Sydney Opera House in Sydney, Australia .

Ms. Moyer is an adjunct professor of voice at Washington & Lee University along with maintaining an active private studio in Chesapeake.

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