CONSERVATORY OF Music

presents

NORTH AMERICAN MUSIC FESTIVAL

Wednesday, April 23, 7:30 p.m.

Amarnick-Goldstein Concert Hall de Hoemle International Center Program Wed esd y, Apri 23

Spotlight on Aaron Jay Kemis

Air Sylvia Kim, violin Tao Lin,

Goblin Market Arthur Weisberg, conductor Dmitry Pogorelov, violin Sarah Perkins, Ana-Maria Achitei, Sachiko Okada, double bass Lea Kibler, Lee Berger, oboe Paul Green, clarinet Stas Pomerants, bass clarinet Jennifer Anderson, bassoon Nelly Juarez, Aaron Mahnken, trumpet Douglas Goldberg, percussion Aaron Hanka, percussion Poetry

Goblin Market Christina Rossetti We must not look at goblin men, We must not buy their fruits: MORNING and evening Who knows upon what soil they fed Maid.5 heard the goblins cry: Their hungry thirsty roots?" "Come buy our orchard fruits, "Come buy," call the goblins Come buy, come buy: Hobbling down the glen. Apples and quinces, "O! cried Lizzie, Laura, Laura, Lemons and oranges, You should not peep at goblin men." Plump unpecked cherries­ Lizzie covered up her eyes Melons and raspberries, Covered close lest they should look; Bloom-

Like a vessel at the launch She dropped a tear more rare than pearl, When its last restraint is gone. Then sucked their fruit globes fair or red: Sweeter than honey from the rock, Backwards up the mossy glen Stronger than man-rejoicing wine, Turned and trooped the goblin men, Clearer than water flowed that juice; With their shrill repeated cry, She never tasted such before, "Come buy, come buy." How should it cloy with length of use? When they reached where Laura was She sucked and sucked and sucked the more They stood stock still upon the moss, Fruits which that unknown orchard bore, Leering at each other, She sucked until her lips were sore; Brother with queer brother; Then flung the emptied rinds away, Signalling each other, But gathered up one kernel stone, Brother with sly brother. And knew not was it night or day One set his basket down, As she turned home alone. One reared his plate; One began to weave a crown Li?.Zie met her at the gate Of tendrils, leaves, and rough nuts brown Full of wise upbraiding.5: (Men sell not such in any town); "Dear, you should not stay so late, One heaved the golden weight 'JWilight is not good for maidens; Of dish and fruit to offer her: Should not loiter in the glen "Come buy, come buy," was still their cry. In the haunts of goblin men. Laura stared but did not stir, Do you not remember Jeanie, Longed but had no money: How she met them in the moonlight, The whisk-tailed merchant bade her taste Took their gifts both choice and many, In tones as smooth as honey, Ate their fruits and wore their flowers The cat-faced purr'd, Plucked from bowers The rat-paced spoke a word Where summer ripens at all hours? Of welcome, and the snail-paced even was heard; But ever in the moonlight One parrot-voiced and jolly She pined and pined away; Cried "Pretty Goblin" still for "Pretty Polly"; Sought them by night and day, One whistled like a bird. Found them no more, but dwindled and grew gray; Then fell with the first snow, But sweet-tooth Laura spoke in haste: While to this day no grass will grow "Good folk, I have no coin; Where she lies low: To take were to purloin: I planted daisies there a year ago I have no copper in my purse, That never blow. I have no silver eithei; You should not loiter so." And all my gold is on the furze "Nay hush," said Laura. That shakes in windy weather "Nay hush, my sister: Above the rusty heather" I ate and ate my fill, "You have much gold upon your head," Yet my mouth waters still; They answered altogether: To-morrow night I will "Buy from us with a golden curl." Buy more," and kissed her. She clipped a precious golden lock, "Have done with sorrow; II I'll bring you plums to-morrow One content, one sick in part; Fre;h on their mother twigs, One warbling for the mere bright day's delight, Cherries worth getting; One longing for the night. You cannot think what figs My teeth have met in, At length slow evening cam~ What melons, icy-cold They went with pitchers to the reedy brook; Piled on a dish of gold Lizzie most placid in her look, Too huge for me to hold, Laura most like a leaping flame. What peaches with a velvet nap, They drew the gurgling water from its deep Pellucid grapes without one seed: Lizzie plucked purple and rich golden fl ags, Odorous indeed must be the mead Then tu ming homeward said: "The sunset flushes Whereon they grow, and pure the wave they drink, Those furthest loftiest crags; With lilies at the brink, Come, Laura, not another maiden lags, And sugar-sweet their sap." No wilful squirrel wags, The beasts and birds are fast asleep." Golden head by golden head, But Laura loitered still among the rushes Like two pigeons in one nest And said the bank was steep. Folded in each other's wings, They lay down, in their curtained bed: And said the hour was early still, Like two blossoms on one stem, The dew not fallen, the wind not chill: Like two flakes of new-fallen snow, Listening ever, but not catching Like two wands of ivory The customary cry, Tipped with gold for awful kings. "Come buy, come buy,'' Moon and stars beamed in at them, With its iterated jingle Wind sang to tl1em lullaby, Of sugar-baited words: Lumbering owls forbore to fly, Not for all her watching Not a bat flapped to and fro Once disceming even one goblin Round their re;t: Racing, whisking, tumbling, hobbling; Cheek to cheek and breast to breast Let alone the herds Locked together in one nest. That used to tramp along the glen, In groups or single, Early in the moming Of brisk fruit-merchant men. When the first cock crowed his waming, Neat like bees, as sweet and busy, 1111 Lizzie urged, "O Laura, come, Laura rose with Lizzie: I hear the fruit-call, but l dare not look: Fetched in honey, milked the co11-S, You should not loiter longer at this brook: Aired and set to rights the house, Come with me home. Kneaded cakes of whitest wheat, The stars rise, the moon bends her arc, Cakes for dainty mouths to eat, Each glow-wonn winks her spark, Next chumed butter, whipped up cream, Let us get home before the night grows dark; Fed their poultry, sat and sewed; For clouds may gather even Talked as modest maidens should Though this is summer weather, Lizzie with an open heart, Put out the lights and drench us through; Laura in an absent dream, Then if we lost our way what should we do?" 11

Laura turned cold as stone She no more wept the house, To find her sister heard that cry alone, Tended the fowls or cows, That goblin cry, Fetched honey, kneaded cakes of wheat, "Come buy our fruits, come buy." Brought water from the brook: Must she then buy no more such dainty fruit? But sat down listless in the chimney-nook Must she no more such succous pasture find, And would not eat Gone deaf and blind? Her tree of life drooped from the root Tender Llzzie could not bear She said not one word in her heart's sore ache; To watch her sister's cankerous care, But prering thro' the dimnesc>, naught discerning, Yet not to share. Trudged home, her pitcher dripping all the way; She night and morning So crept to bed, and lay Caught the goblins' cry: Silent 'ti! Llzzie slep~ "Come buy our orchard fruits, Then sat up in a pas'lionate yearning, Come buy, come buy." And gnashoo her teeth for balked desire, and wept Beside the brook, along the glen As if her heart would break. She heard the tramp of goblin men, The voice and stir Day after day, night after night, Poor Laura could not hear; Laura kept watch in vain, Longed to buy fruit to comfort her, In sullen silmce of exceroing pain. But feared to pay too deru; She never caught again the goblin cry: "Come buy, come buy," She thought of Jeanie in her grave, She never spied the goblin men Who should have been a bride; Hawking their fruits along the glen: But who for joys brides hope to have But when the noon waxed bright Fell sick and died Her hair gre.v thin and gray; In her gay prime, She dwindled, as the fair full moon doth tum In earliest winter-time, To ~ft decay, and bum With the first glazing rime, Her fire away. With the first snow-fall of crisp winter-time.

One day remembering her kernel-stone Tiii Laura, dwindling, She set it by awall that faced the south; Seemed knocking at Death's door: De.ved it with tears, hoped for a root, Then Lizzie weighed no more Watched for a waxing shoot, Better and worse, But there came none; But put a silver penny in her purse, It never saw the sun, Kissed Laura, crossed the heath with clumps of fune It never felt the trickling moisture run: At twilight, halted by the brook, While with sunk eyes and faded mouth And for the first time in her life She dreamoo of melons, as a traveller sees Began to listen and look. False waves in desert drouth With shade of leaf-O"Owned ~. Laughed e;ery goblin And bums the thirstier in the sandful brreze. When they spied her peeping: Came towards her hobbling, Flying, running, leaping, 11

Puffing and blowing, No man can carry; Chuckling, clapping, crowing, Half their bloom would fly, Clucking and gobbling, Half their dew would dry, Mopping and mowing, Half their flavor would pass by. Full of airs and graces, Sit down and feast with us, Pulling wry faces, Be welcome guest with us, Demure grim aces, Cheer you and rest with us." Cat-like and rat-like, "Thank you," said Lizzie; "but one waits Ratel and wombat-like, At home alone for me: Snail-paced in a hurry, So, without further parleying, Parrot-voiced and whistler, If you will not sell me any Helter-skelter, hurry-skurry, Of your fruits though much and many, Chattering like magpies, Give me back my silver penny Fluttering like pigeons, I tossed you for a fee." Gliding like fishes, - They began to scratch their pates, Hugged her and kissed her; No longer wagging, purring, Squeezed and cares.5ed her; But visibly demurring, Stretched up their dishes, Grunting and snarling. Panniers and plates: One called her proud, "Look at our apples Cross-grained, uncivil; Russet and dun, Their tones waxed loud, Bob at our cherries Their looks were evil. Bite at our peaches, Lashing their tails Citrons and dates, They trod and hustled her, Grapes for the asking, Elbowed and jostled her, Pears red with basking Clawed with their nails, Out in the sun, Barking, mewing, hissing, mocking, Plums on their twigs; Tore her gown and soiled her stocking, Pluck them and suck them, 1\vitched her hair out by the roots, Pomegranates, figs." Stamped upon her tender feet, Held her hands and squeezed their fruits "Good folk," said Lizzie, Against her mouth to make her eat. Mindful of Jeanie, "Give me much and many"; - White and golden Lizzie stood, Held out her apron, Like a lily in a flood, Tossed them her penny. Like a rock of blue-veined stone "Nay, take a seat with us, Lashed by tides obstreperously, - Honor and eat with us," Like a beacon left alone They answered grinning; In a hoary roaring sea, "Our feast is but beginning. Sending up a golden fire, - Night yet is early, Like a fruit-crowned orange-tree Warm and dew-pearly, White with blossoms honey-5weet Wakeful and starry: Sore beset by wasp and bee, - Such fruits as these Like a royal virgin town 11

Topped with gildOO dome and spire The kind heart made her windy-paced Close beleaguered by a fleet That urged her home quite out of breath with haste Mad to tear her standard down. And inward laughter.

One may lead a horse to water, She cried "Laura," up the garden, 1\venty cannot make him drink. "Did you mis.5 me ? Though the goblins cuffed and caught he~ Come and kiss me. Coaxed and fought her, Never mind my bruises, Bullied and besought her, Hug me, kiss me, suck my juices Scratched her, pinched her black as ink, Squeezed from goblin fruits for you, Kicked and knocked her, Goblin pulp and goblin dew. Mauled and mocked he~ Eat me, drink me, love me; Lizzie uttered not a word; Laura, make much of me: Would not open lip from lip For your sake I have braved the glen Lest they should cram a mouthful in; And had to do with goblin merchant men." But laughed in heart to feel the drip Of juice that syruped all her face, Laura started from her chair, And lodged in dimples of her chin, Flung her anns up in the air, And streaked her neck which quaked like curd. Clutched her hair: At last the evil people, "Lizzie, Lizzie, have you tasted Worn out by her resistance, For my sake the fruit forbidden? Flung back her penny, kicked their fruit Must your light like mine be hidden, Along whichever road they took, Your young life like mine be wasted, Not leaving root or stone or shoot Undone in mine undoing, Some writhed into the ground, And ruined in my ruin; Some dived into the brook Thirsty, cankered, goblin-ridden?" With ring and ripple. She clung about her sister, Some scudded on the gale without a sound, Kissed and kissed and kissed her: Some vanished in the distance. Tears once again Refreshed her shrunken eyes, Jn a smart, ache, tingle, Dropping like rain Lizzie went her way; After long sultry drouth; Knew not was it night or day; Shaking with aguish fe~ and pain, Sprang up the bank, tore through the furae, She kissed and kissed her with a hungcy mouth. Threaded copse and dingle, And heard her penny jingle Her lips began to scorch, Bouncing in her purse, - That juice was wormwood to her tongue, Its bounce was music to her ear. She loathed the feast: She ran and ran Writhing as one posses.5ed she leaped and sung, As if she feared some goblin man Rent all her robe, and wrung Dogged her with gibe or curse Her hands in lamentable haste, Or something worse: And beat her breast But not one goblin skurried after, Her locks streamed like the torch Nor was she pricked by fear; Borne by a racer at full speed, 11

Or like the mane of horses in their flight, Day>, weeks, months,years Or like an eagle when she stems the light Afterwards, when both were wives Straight towani the sun, With children of their own; Or like a caged thing frred, Their mother-hearts beset with fears, Or like a flying flag when annies run. Their lives bound up in tender lives; Laura would call the little ones Swift fire spread through her veins, knocked at her heart, And tell them of her early prime, Met the fire smouldering there Those pleasant days long gone And overbore its lesser flame, Of not-returning time: She gorged on bitterness without a name: Would talk about the haunted glen, Ah! fool, to choose such part The wicked, quaint fruit-merchant men, Of soul-consuming care! Their fruits like honey to the throat, Sense failed in the mortal strife: But poison in the blood; Like the watch-tower of a town (Men sell not such in any town;) Which an earthquake shatters down, Would tell them how her sister stood Like a lightning-stricken mast, In deadly peril to do her good, Like a wind-uprooted tree And win the fiecy antidote: Spun about, Then joining hands to little hands Like a foam-topped water-spout Would bid them cling together, Cast down headlong in the sea, "For there is no friend like a sister, She fell at last; In calm or stonny weather, Pleasure past and anguish past, To cheer one on the tedious way, Is it death or is it life ? To fetch one if one goes astray, To lift one if one totters down, Life out of death. To strengthen whilst one stands." That night long Lizzie watched by her, Counted her pulse's flagging stir, Felt for her breath, Held water to her lip.s, and cooled her face With tears and fanning leaves: But when the first birds chirped about their eaves, And early reapers plodded to the place Of golden sheaves, And dew-wet grass Bowed in the morning winds so brisk to pass, And new buds with new day Opened of cup-like lilies on the stream, Laura awoke as from a dream, Laughed in the innocent old way, Hugged Lizzie but not twice or thrice; Her gleaming locks showed not one thread of gray, Her breath was sweet as May, And light danced in her eyes. Biograph i e_s_~----~· Arth r be , conductor/ Mr. Weisberg is considered to be among the world's leading bassoonists. He has played with the Houston, Baltimore, and Cleveland Orchestras, as well as with the Symphony of the Air and the New York Woodwind Quintet.

As a music director, Mr. Weisberg has worked with the New Chamber Orchestra of Westchester, Orchestra da Camera (of Long Island, New York), Contemporary Chamber Ensemble, Orchestra of the 20th Century, Stony Brook Symphony, Iceland Symphony, and Ensemble 21. With these various ensembles, he has toured around the world, performing over 100 world premieres and making numerous recordings. He has guest conducted such world-renowned orchestras as the , Berlin Radio Orchestra, Basel Radio Orchestra, Aalborg Symphony (Denmark), Symphony Orchestra of Copenhagen, Milwaukee Symphony, Rochester Philharmonic, and Santa Cruz Symphony.

Mr. Weisberg has composed 50 works that have been published by the American Alliance and Bassoon Heritage Editions, and has had several works commissioned, including a work for the Library of Congress. Kalmus has taken on several of his larger wind and orchestral works. He has also written Twentieth Century Performing Practices for Conductors and Performers, published by Yale Press; The Art of Wind Playing, published by G. Schirmer; and several editions of bassoon literature.

Mr. Weisberg has made appearances on National Educational Television performing the music of Edgar Varese and George Crumb. He has made recordings with the New York Philharmonic, Contemporary Chamber Ensemble, New York Woodwind Quintet, and Ensemble 21. He can be heard on Nonesuch, DG, , Composers Recordings, and Sll}1lIIlit Records labels. Several of his recordings have won prizes and two have been nominated for the Grammy award. Mr. Weisberg is currently the conducter and artist faculty- bassoon at the Lynn University Conservatory of Music.

a Aar J y Ker s, composer Aaron Jay Kemis, one of the youngest composers ever to be awarded the Pulitzer Prize, has become among the most esteemed musical figures of his generation. Each work of Kemis bears the unmistakable stamp of a wildly fertile musical imagination and a distinctive voice forged out of the wide-ranging musical languages of the 1980s and 1990s. His music bursts with rich poetic imagery, brilliant instrumental color, distinctive musical wit, and infectious exuberance. His work is as likely to be inspired by the horrors of the Persian Gulf War (as in the much-talked about Symphony No. 2) as the 11 love poems of Anna Swir (Love Scenes); the earthy rhythms of Salsa (JOO Greatest Dance Hits) as the antics of a child (Before Sleep and Dreams); the surrealism of Gertrude Stein (Fragments of Gertrude Stein) as the complexities and high­ craftsmanship of Italian mosaics (Invisible Mosaic III).

Mr. Kernis' music figures prominently on orchestral, chamber, and recital programs around the world. He has already written works for many of America's foremost musical institutions, including New Era Dance, commissioned for the 150th Anniversary of the New York Philharmonic and recorded by the Baltimore Symphony; Still Movement with Hymn, a piano quartet commissioned by American Public Radio for Christopher O'Riley, Pamela Frank, Paul Neubauer, and Carter Brey; Colored Field, a for Julie Ann Giacobassi (English horn) and the ; Goblin Market for narrator and ensemble, on a text by Christina Rossetti, for the Birmingham (England) New Music Group; Air for violinist ; an a cappella work for the Birmingham Bach Choir and the Plymouth Music Series; Lament and Prayer, a work for violin and string orchestra for Pamela Frank and the ; and Double Concerto for Violin, Guitar, and Orchestra, commissioned by the Saint Paul Chamber Orchestra, Aspen Music Festival, and Los Angeles Chamber Orchestra for Nadja Salerno-Sonnenberg and . Mr. Kernis helped to usher in the new Millennium with a monumental choral symphony, Garden of Light, commissioned by the Disney Company. A new version of Colored Field for cello and orchestra featuring Truls M111rk and a song cycle, Valentines, for Renee Fleming were both premiered by the Minnesota Orchestra in April 2000.

Aaron Jay Kernis was born in on January 15, 1960. He began his musical studies on the violin; at age 12 he began teaching himself piano, and, in the following year, composition. He continued his studies at the San Francisco Conservatory of Music, the Manhattan School of Music, and the , working with composers as diverse as , , and . Mr. Kernis received national acclaim for his first orchestral work, dream of the morning sky, premiered by the New York Philharmonic at the 1983 Horizons Festival.

Mr. Kernis is one of the most honored young American composers. In addition to the 1998 Pulitzer Prize for his String Quartet No. 2 (musica instrumentafo), his many awards have included the 2002 in Music Composition for the cello and orchestra version of Colored Field, the Stoeger Prize from the Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center, a Guggenheim Fellowship, the Rome Prize, an NEA grant, a Beams Prize, a New York Foundation for the Arts Award, and three BMI Student Composer Awards. Currently he serves as the Minnesota Orchestra's New Music Advisor. Mr. Kernis's music is published by Associated Music Publishers. UP-coming Events

MAY

Thursday 1 *Conservatory All-Stars 7:30 PM A Hank Ellman Memoria.l Concert sponsored by Sonny Ellman Exceptional student performances

Sunday 4 *Graduation Concert 4:00 PM Sponsored by Friends of the Conservatory Salute the Class of 2003 ... a perfect time to say farewell to our young musicians as they captivate us one last time with their incredible music-making. Douglas Goldberg, percussion Nelly Juarez, french horn • William Dale, cello Angel Valchinov, violin • Chao Li, trombone Vik.tor Dulguerov, violin• Chung-Hyun Kim, violin Ana-Maria Achitei, cello• Bogdan Scurtu, clarinet Cristian Mandu, violin

Sunday 18 *Florida Young Musicians Showcase 4:00 PM Young musicians from across Florida take the stage

* Located at the Amarnick-Goldstein Concert Hall