A Painted Tale John Dowland 13 Can she excuse my wrongs 2.31 INTRODUCTION Henry Purcell Thomas Morley 1557/8–1602 14 Not all my torments can your pity move Z400 2.48 1 A Painted Tale 2.39 Alfonso Ferrabosco c.1575–1628 THE TALE 15 So, so, leave off this last lamenting kiss 2.49 Henry Purcell 1659–1695 John Dowland 2 O solitude, my sweetest choice! Z406 5.42 16 In darkness let me dwell 3.50 Robert Johnson 1572/3–1637 17 Now, O now I needs must part 4.35 3 Have you seen but a bright Lily grow 1.54 18 Come, heavy Sleep 3.44 John Blow 1648/9–1708 Nicholas Lanier 4 Fairest work of happy nature 3.23 19 Stay, Silly Heart, and do not break 3.31 5 The Self Banished 2.01 Henry Purcell Nicholas Lanier 1588–1666 20 Evening Hymn Z193 5.11 6 Fire, fire 1.52 69.39 John Blow 7 O turn not those fine eyes away 3.17 Nicholas Phan tenor Henry Purcell Michael Leopold 8 Sweeter than roses Z585 No.1 3.21 Ann Marie Morgan viola da gamba 9 She loves and she confesses too Z413 2.16 Nicholas Lanier 10 No more shall meads be deck’d with flowers 7.00 Recorded at Skywalker Sound, a Lucasfilm Ltd. company, Marin County, California, 21 & 22 October 2014 John Dowland 1563–1626 Executive producers: Melanne Mueller & Philip Wilder · Producer, engineer and editing: Marlan Barry Technical assistance: Dann Thompson · Album photography: Henry Dombey 11 My thoughts are winged with hopes 2.34 Biography photographs: David Speckman (Ann Marie Morgan); Maurizio Cordini (Michael Leopold) Design: Jeremy Tilston for WLP Ltd. John Blow ൿ 2015 The copyright in this sound recording is owned by Nicholas Phan Ꭿ 2015 Nicholas Phan www.nicholas-phan.com 12 Of all the torments, all the cares 3.57 Marketed by Avie Records www.avie-records.com DDD

2 A Painted Tale

My first exposure to early English song was as a teenager during my third summer as a camper at the prestigious Interlochen Arts Camp, where many a young musician, actor and artist has made many important discoveries about life and art over the years. During my third summer at the camp, I made a very important shift musically: rather than attend the camp as a violinist, as I had the previous two summers, I applied for and was successfully admitted into the camp’s rigorous musical theatre programme, having been bitten by the drama bug the previous year. It was during these summer weeks of studying musical theatre in northern Michigan that I decided to become a classical singer, and leave behind my childhood dreams of playing in one of the world’s great orchestras. One of the joys about being a camper at Interlochen in those days was that, regardless of your primary focus, or major (as the camp referred to it), students were also expected to take elective courses. Not wanting to abandon my instrumental background completely just yet, and curious about ‘early music’ after having sung a few Italian and English madrigals with my school choir, I elected to enrol in Interlochen’s Early Music course. On the first day of class, after making it known that I was both a violinist and (now) a singer, the teachers decided that it would be best for me to study the viola da gamba. After hearing me sing a bit, one of the teachers, Ann Marie Morgan (who is also the violist da gamba on this recording), handed me a song by John Dowland, Flow My Tears. For this one and only project of the summer, Ann Marie asked me to sing with the class’s newly formed consort. After our first reading of the song, I was hooked. I’ve dreamt of putting together a programme of early English songs ever since. When thinking about this project, I found that I was confronted with one primary challenge: how to pick which songs to perform, as there are so many precious gems from which to choose. Sifting through the seemingly endless treasure trove of songs, it occurred to me that it might be possible to assemble a selection of them into a sort of pastiche song cycle, structuring them in an order that creates an imagined storyline that links them together. Taking Schubert’s Die schöne Müllerin as a model, the songs on this album are ordered so that they tell a story, a so-called ‘Painted Tale’ of a young man who falls in love with a young woman, and is destroyed by the heartbreak that ensues, choosing death as the only possible escape from his torment. It was not hard to find songs that fit into this storyline, and the draw towards Schubert’s first epic song cycle as a model was a natural one. Much of the English Renaissance melancholia that was in style when these songs were composed (John Dowland’s motto was Semper Dowland, semper dolens or ‘always Dowland, always doleful’, after all) has many parallels with the German Romantics’ idolatry of the unrequited lover-hero whose unbearable pain from heartbreak causes him to turn to suicide in the model of Goethe’s tragic Werther, or Schubert and Wilhelm Müller’s young journeyman miller of Die schöne Müllerin. On top of this, I found that the object of many of these poets’ affections was coincidentally named ‘Celia’ – only in one instance have we had to change a ‘Sylvia’ to ‘Celia’ in order to keep our story cohesive. With a view to giving our concocted tale as much narrative power as possible, I thought back to my first exposure to these songs, and remembered that my first experience performing them was with viol and not a lute. This was a common tradition of the day, with many songs being published in two versions – one with lute tablature and one with the viol bass line – so as to ensure that as many musicians at as many levels as possible could enjoy these songs at home. Taking a cue from this practice, I decided it would be best to use both instruments to create the widest variety of colour.

3 What has drawn me so powerfully to sing this repertoire since I first encountered it in my teenage summer music camp days is its timelessness. Reading the poetry in these songs, I am fascinated by how little the human experience has changed over the centuries. By assembling these pieces into what I’m calling ‘a pastiche song cycle,’ I hope that creating a dramatic context for them will highlight how relevant they still are today. Ꭿ Nicholas Phan, 2015

Eine gemalte Erzählung

Zum ersten Mal kam ich mit altem englischem Liedgut als Teenager in Berührung: während meines dritten Sommers im prestigeträchtigen Interlochen Arts Camp, wo im Laufe der Jahre schon viele junge Musiker, Schauspieler und Künstler wichtige Entdeckungen über Leben und Kunst machen konnten. Während meines dritten Sommers im Camp kam es für mich zu einer wichtigen musikalischen Veränderung: Anstatt das Camp als Geiger zu besuchen, wie ich es in den beiden vorangegangenen Sommern getan hatte, bewarb ich mich auf das überaus anspruchsvolle Musiktheaterprogramm des Camps und wurde angenommen. Im Jahr zuvor hatte mich das Theaterfieber gepackt. Während dieser Sommerwochen, in denen ich mich im Norden Michigans mit dem Musiktheater auseinandersetzte, beschloss ich, klassischer Sänger zu werden, und mich von meinem Kindheitstraum, in einem der großen Orchester der Welt zu spielen, zu verabschieden. Eine der Freuden der Teilnahme am Camp in Interlochen in jenen Tagen bestand darin, dass die Studenten ungeachtet ihres Hauptfaches (des „majors“, wie es im Camp hieß) auch Wahlpflichtfächer belegen mussten. Ich hatte nicht vor, mich gleich völlig von meinem instrumentalen Hintergrund abzuwenden und war zudem neugierig auf „Alte Musik“, nachdem ich mit meinem Schulchor einige italienische und englische Madrigale gesungen hatte, also schrieb ich mich in Interlochen beim Kurs für Alte Musik ein. Ich gab am ersten Tag des Kurses bekannt, dass ich sowohl Violinist als auch (inzwischen) Sänger war, woraufhin meine Lehrer entschieden, dass es für mich am besten wäre, Gambe zu lernen. Nachdem sie sich kurz meinen Gesang angehört hatte, gab mir eine der Lehrerinnen, Ann Marie Morgan (die auch die Gambistin auf dieser Aufnahme ist) die Noten zu Flow My Tears, einem Lied von John Dowland. Ann Marie stellte mir in jenem Sommer nur eine Aufgabe: in Begleitung des neu gegründeten Gambenconsorts der Klasse zu singen. Als wir das Lied zum ersten Mal gemeinsam durchgingen, war ich augenblicklich völlig gebannt. Seit jenem Tag habe ich davon geträumt, ein Programm mit alten englischen Liedern zusammenzustellen. Als ich über dieses Projekt nachdachte, musste ich feststellen, dass sich mir eine Hauptschwierigkeit bot: Wie sollte ich auswählen, welche Lieder ich aufführen sollte, wo doch so viele kostbare Juwelen zur Auswahl standen? Während ich in der scheinbar bodenlosen Liederschatzkiste stöberte, wurde mir bewusst, dass man eine Auswahl dieser Werke in einer Art Pastiche-Liederzyklus zusammentragen könnte, sie also in einer Reihenfolge anordnen könnte, in der die Lieder durch einen imaginären Erzählstrang verbunden sind. Ich verwendete Schuberts Schöne Müllerin als Modell, um die Lieder dieses Albums so zu gruppieren, dass sie eine Geschichte erzählen: Es ist die sogenannte „gemalte Erzählung“ eines jungen Mannes, der sich in eine junge Frau verliebt, und den der folgende Liebeskummer gänzlich zerrüttet, so dass ihm der Tod als einzig möglicher Ausweg aus seinen Qualen erscheint.

4 Es war nicht allzu schwierig, Lieder zu finden, die sich in diese Handlung einfügen ließen, und Schuberts erster epischer Liederzyklus bot sich auf ganz natürliche Weise als Modell an. Große Teile der zum Kompositionszeitpunkt dieser Lieder in der englischen Renaissance modernen Melancholie (so war etwa John Dowlands Motto Semper Dowland, semper dolens oder „immer Dowland, immer trübselig“) besitzt viele Parallellen in der deutschen Romantik mit ihrer Vergötterung des abgewiesenen Liebhabers, dessen unerträgliche Liebesqualen ihn nach dem Vorbild von Goethes Werther oder Schuberts und Wilhelm Müllers jungem Müllersgesellen in der Schönen Müllerin in den Selbstmord treiben. Außerdem war mir aufgefallen, dass das Liebesobjekt vieler dieser Dichter zufälligerweise den Namen „Celia“ trug – nur ein einziges Mal mussten wir eine „Sylvia“ in eine „Celia“ umbenennen, um den Zusammenhang der Geschichte zu erhalten. Mit dem Bestreben, unserer zusammengestellten Erzählung die größtmögliche narrative Kraft zu verleihen, dachte ich an meine erste Begegnung mit diesen Liedern zurück, und erinnerte mich, dass meine ersten Aufführungen der Lieder mit Gamben-, nicht Lautenbegleitung erfolgt waren. Verschiedene Begleitungsfassungen waren eine übliche Tradition der damaligen Zeit, und viele Lieder erschienen in zwei Versionen – eine mit Lautengriffschrift und eine mit einer Bassstimme für die Gambe – um sicherzustellen, dass so viele Musiker von so unterschiedlichen Fähigkeitsgraden wie möglich diese Lieder daheim genießen konnten. Ich ließ mich von dieser Praxis inspirieren und beschloss, beide Instrumente zu verwenden, um die größtmögliche Bandbreite an Klangfarben zu erhalten. Was mich von dem Moment an, als ich dieses Repertoire zum ersten Mal während meiner Zeit im Musik-Sommerlager als Jugendlicher sang und hörte, mit solcher Macht gedrängt hat, es zu singen, ist seine Zeitlosigkeit. Wenn ich die Texte dieser Lieder lese, bin ich fasziniert davon, wie wenig sich das menschliche Empfinden im Laufe der Jahrhunderte verändert hat. Indem ich diese Stücke zu einem „Pastiche-Liederzyklus“ (wie ich ihn nenne) zusammensetze und ihnen damit einen dramatischen Kontext gebe, hoffe ich, ihre auch heute noch große Relevanz hervorzuheben. Nicholas Phan Übersetzung: Leandra Rhoese

Un conte peint

C’est à l’adolescence que j’ai découvert la musique anglaise ancienne, alors que je passais mon troisième été au prestigieux Interlochen Arts Camp, où nombre de jeunes musiciens, acteurs et artistes ont fait d’importantes découvertes sur la vie et l’art au fil des ans. L’été de mon troisième camp, j’ai connu une évolution musicale très importante : au lieu d’y participer en tant que violoniste, comme les deux années précédentes, je me suis présenté et ai été admis dans le cadre du rigoureux programme des arts de la scène du camp, car je m’étais pris de passion pour la scène l’année précédente. C’est lors de ces quelques semaines estivales où j’ai étudié le chant lyrique dans le nord du Michigan que j’ai décidé de devenir chanteur classique et d’abandonner mon rêve d’enfant de jouer dans l’un des plus grands orchestres du monde. Au camp d’Interlochen, l’une des joies était alors de pouvoir, indépendamment de votre matière principale ou majeure (comme on l’appelait là-bas), suivre aussi des cours à option. Comme je ne voulais pas abandonner complètement ma formation instrumentale tout de suite, et que la

5 musique ancienne avait piqué ma curiosité après avoir chanté quelques madrigaux italiens et anglais avec le chœur de mon école, j’ai choisi de suivre le cours de musique ancienne d’Interlochen. Le premier jour, j’ai dit à mes professeurs que j’étais à la fois violoniste et (désormais) chanteur, et ils ont décidé que le mieux pour moi était d’étudier la viole de gambe. Après m’avoir écouté chanter un peu, l’une des mes professeurs, Ann Marie Morgan (qui est aussi la gambiste sur ce disque), m’a confié une chanson de John Dowland, Flow My Tears. Ann Marie m’a donné un seul et unique projet de l’été : chanter avec le consort de violes nouvellement formé de la classe. Après notre première lecture de la chanson, j’étais conquis. Depuis lors, j’ai caressé le rêve de monter un programme de chansons anglaises anciennes. En réfléchissant au projet, je me suis rendu compte que j’étais confronté à un défi majeur : choisir des chansons parmi les innombrables perles de ce répertoire. En parcourant ce trésor musical apparemment infini, je me suis dit qu’il était peut-être possible de concevoir un florilège en pastichant un cycle de chansons, en les ordonnant de manière à créer une histoire imaginaire qui serve de lien entre les chansons. Sur le modèle de Die schöne Müllerin de Schubert, les chansons de cet album racontent une histoire, ledit « Conte peint » d’un jeune homme qui tombe amoureux d’une jeune femme, puis a le cœur brisé et, désespéré, choisit la mort pour échapper à ses tourments. Cela n’a pas été très difficile de trouver des chansons qui s’inscrivent dans cette ligne, et le premier cycle épique de Schubert s’est naturellement imposé comme modèle. Dans une grande mesure, la mélancolie de la Renaissance anglaise en vogue à l’époque de ces chansons (la devise de John Dowland était bien Semper Dowland, semper dolens, c’est-à-dire « toujours Dowland, toujours triste » après tout) présente de nombreux parallèles avec le culte des romantiques allemands du héros en proie à un amour non réciproque dont l’insupportable souffrance engendrée par cette déception le pousse au suicide, à l’instar du tragique destin du Werther de Goethe, ou du jeune apprenti meunier de Schubert et Wilhelm Müller dans Die schöne Müllerin. En outre, j’ai découvert que l’objet des amours de nombre de ces poètes s’appelait fortuitement « Celia » – dans un cas seulement, nous avons dû remplacer « Sylvia » par « Celia » pour assurer la cohésion de l’histoire. Afin de conférer à notre conte inventé autant de pouvoir narratif que possible, j’ai repensé à ma première écoute de ces chansons, et je me suis souvenu de ma première interprétation, avec une viole, et non un luth. C’était une pratique commune à l’époque, et deux nombreuses chansons étaient publiées dans les deux versions – l’une avec la tablature de luth, et l’autre avec une ligne de basse de viole – pour garantir que le plus de musiciens possibles de tous niveaux pourraient profiter de ces chansons dans leur salon. Inspiré par cette pratique, j’ai décidé d’utiliser les deux instruments pour créer un très vaste éventail de couleur. Ce qui m’a attiré si fortement à chanter ce répertoire depuis que je l’ai découvert, adolescent, lors de mon camp d’été est son intemporalité. Devant la poésie de ces chansons, je suis fasciné de constater combien l’expérience humaine a peu changé au fil des siècles. En réunissant ces pièces dans ce que j’ai qualifié de « cycle de chansons pastiche », j’espère que la création d’un contexte dramatique permettra de souligner à quel point elles sont toujours pertinentes aujourd’hui. Nicholas Phan Traduction : Noémie Gatzler

6 7 INTRODUCTION 4 Fairest work of happy nature, 6 Fire, fire, 9 She loves and she confesses too, Sweet without dissembling art, Loe here I burne in such desire, There’s then at last no more to do; 1 A Painted Tale Kind in ev’ry tender feature, That all the teares that I can straine The happy work’s entirely done, A painted tale by poets’ skill devised, Cruel only in a heart: Out of my lovesick, empty braine, Enter the town which thou hast won; Where words well plac’d great store of love View the beauties of the morning, Cannot allay my scorching paine. The fruits of conquest now begin, profess’d, Where no sullen clouds appear, Come Humber, Trent and silver Thames, Lo, triumph, enter in. In Love’s attire can never mask disguis’d; Graces there are less adorning Dread Ocean haste with all thy streames: What’s this, ye Gods? What can it be? For looks and sighs true love can best express. Than below, when Celia’s there. And if you canst not quench my fire, Remains there still an enemy? And he whose words his passions right can tell O drowne both me, and my desire. Bold Honour stands up in the gate, Doth more in words than in true love excel. Ev’ry tuneful breast confesses, And would yet capitulate. Sounds by you improve their pow’r: Fire, fire, Have I o’ercome all real foes, THE TALE Ev’ry tongue, in soft addresses, There is no hell to my desire: And shall this phantom me oppose? Humbly tells us his amour. See all the Rivers backward flye, Noisy nothing, stalking shade, 2 O solitude, my sweetest choice! Such a tribute, lovely blessing, And th’Ocean doth his waves deny, By what witchcraft wert thou made, Places devoted to the night, Faithful Strephon ne’er denies: For feare my heart should drink them dry. Thou empty cause of solid harms? Remote from tumult and from noise, Such a treasure in possessing, Come heav’nly showres, come pouring downe; But I shall find out counter charms, How ye my restless thoughts delight! All the bills of love supplies. Come you that once the world did drowne: Thy airy devilship to remove O solitude, my sweetest choice! And if you canst not quench my fire, From this circle here of love O heav’ns! what content is mine Yet I see by ev’ry trial, O drowne both me, and my desire. Sure I shall rid myself of thee To see these trees, which have appear’d Feeble hopes my flames pursue: By the night’s obscurity, From the nativity of time, Ever finding a denial, And obscurer secrecy; And which all ages have rever’d, Where my softest love was true. 7 O turn not those fine eyes away, Unlike to ev’ry other spright To look today as fresh and green But my heart knows no retreating, Nor blush you gave me that kind of look: Thou attempt’st not men to affright As when their beauties first were seen. No decay can ease my pain; More than a thousand times me have you took, Nor appear’st but in the light. O, how agreeable a sight Love allows of no defeating, As I’ve been stealing of a glimpse or ray Abraham Cowley These hanging mountains do appear, Tho’ the prize is sought in vain. From those two lights which make perpetual day. Which th’unhappy would invite 10 No more shall meads be deck’d with flowers, To finish all their sorrows here, For if e’er my Celia’s treasure See, fair one, see: Nor sweetness live in rosy bow’rs, When their hard fate makes them endure Must her virgin sweets resign, I’m looking now another way; Nor greenest buds on branches spring, Such woes as only death can cure. Love shall flow with equal measure, You may be kind, and if I must not see, Nor warbling birds delight to sing, O, how I solitude adore! And I’ll boldly call her mine: I can be blind for that moment you favour Nor April violets paint the grove, That element of noblest wit, Till her panting wedded lover, the show, When once I leave my Celia’s love. Where I have learnt Apollo’s love, Grown uneasy by my claim, Then see again, to look on only you. Without the pains to study it. Leaves me freely to discover The fish shall in the ocean burn, For thy sake I in love am grown Golden coasts without a name. Come, think no more on this surprise, And fountains sweet shall bitter turn; With what thy fancy does pursue; But let your lover make his court; The humble vale no floods shall know, But when I think upon my own, 5 The Self Banished We’ve long been at this pretty glancing sport. When floods shall highest hills o’erflow; I hate it for that reason too, It is not that I love you less Now let our tongues declare what this implies: Black Lethe shall oblivion leave, Because it needs must hinder me Than when before your feet I lay: ’Tis time we cease the tattle of our eyes. Before my Celia I deceive. From seeing and from serving thee. But to prevent the sad increase O solitude, O how I solitude adore! Of hopeless love, I keep away. 8 Sweeter than roses, or cool evening breeze Love shall his bow and shafts lay by, Katherine Philips On a warm flowery shore, was the dear kiss, And Venus’ doves want wings to fly; In vain! (alas!) for ev’ry thing First trembling made me freeze, The sun refuse to show his light, 3 Have you seen but a bright Lily grow Which I have known belong to you, Then shot like fire all o’er. And day shall then be turned to night; Before rude hands had touch’d it; Your form does to my fancy bring, What magic has victorious love! And in that night no star appear, Have you mark’d but the fall of the snow And makes my old wounds bleed anew. For all I touch or see since that dear kiss, When e’er I leave my Celia dear. Before the Earth hath smuchted it. Edmund Waller I hourly prove, all is love to me. Have you felt the wool of the Beaver, Love shall no more inhabit earth, Or Swansdown ever; Nor lovers more shall love for worth, Or have smelt of the Bud of the Briar, Nor joy above in heaven dwell, Or the Nard in the fire; Nor pain torment poor souls in hell; Or have tasted the Bag of the Bee; Grim death no more shall horrid prove, O so white, O so soft, O so sweet, so sweet, When e’er I leave bright Celia’s love. so sweet is she! O so white, O so soft, O so sweet, so sweet, so sweet is she!

8 11 My thoughts are winged with hopes, my 13 Can she excuse my wrongs with Virtue’s cloak? 16 In darkness let me dwell, the ground shall 18 Come, heavy Sleep, the image of true Death, hopes with love. Shall I call her good when she proves unkind? sorrow be, And close up these my weary weeping eyes, Mount, Love, unto the moon in clearest night Are those clear fires which vanish into smoke? The roof despair to bar all cheerful light from me, Whose spring of tears doth stop my vital breath, And say, as she doth in the heavens move, Must I praise the leaves where no fruit I find? The walls of marble black that moist’ned still shall And tears my heart with Sorrow’s sigh-swoll’n cries. In earth, so wanes and waxeth my delight. No, no; where shadows do for bodies stand, weep, Come and possess my tired through-worn soul, And whisper this but softly in her ears: That may’st be abus’d if thy sight be dim. My music hellish jarring sounds to banish friendly That living dies till thou on me be stole. Hope oft doth hang the head and Trust shed sleep. tears. Cold love is like to words written on sand, Thus wedded to my woes and bedded to my Come, shadow of my end, and shape of rest, Or to bubbles which on the water swim. tomb, Allied to Death, child to his joyless black-fac’d And you, my thoughts, that some mistrust do Wilt thou be thus abused still, O, let me living die, till death do come. Night, carry, Seeing that she will right thee never? Come thou and charm these rebels in my breast, If for mistrust my mistress do you blame, If thou canst not o’ercome her will, 17 Now, O now I needs must part, Whose waking fancies doth my mind affright. Say though you alter, yet you do not vary, Thy love will be thus fruitless ever. Parting though I absent mourn. O come, sweet Sleep, or I die forever; As she doth change and yet remain the same. Absence can no joy impart: Come ere my last sleep comes, or come thou never. Distrust doth enter hearts but not infect, Was I so base, that I might not aspire Joy once fled cannot return. And love is sweetest seasoned with suspect. Unto those high joys which she holds from me? 19 Stay, Silly Heart, and do not break, As they are high, so high is my desire, While I live I needs must love, But give a Lover leave to speak, If she for this with clouds do mask her eyes, If she this deny, what can granted be? Love lives not when Hope is gone. To tell a tale that stones may move And make the heavens dark with her disdain, If she will yield to that which reason is, Now at last Despair doth prove, To pity me that dies for Love. With windy sighs disperse them in the skies, It is reason’s will that love should be just. Love divided loveth none. Or with thy tears dissolve them into rain, Thy Heart is harder far than flint, Thoughts, hopes and love, return to me no more Dear, make me happy still by granting this, Sad despair doth drive me hence; And will not suffer Cupid’s print; Till Cynthia shine as she hath done before. Or cut off delays if that I die must. This despair unkindness sends. But beats his arrows back to Jove, George Clifford, 3rd Earl of Cumberland Better a thousand times to die If that parting be offence, But which, alas! I die for Love. Than for to love thus still tormented: It is she which then offends. 12 Of all the torments, all the cares Dear, but remember it was I When I am gone, true lovers mourn, With which our lives are curst; Who for thy sake did die contented. Dear when I from thee am gone, Deck all your heads with withered corn, Of all the plagues a lover bears, Gone are all my joys at once, Wear on your hand a Sable Glove, Sure rivals are the worst. 14 Not all my torments can your pity move, I lov’d thee and thee alone, To testify I died for Love. By partners, in each other kind, Your scorn increases with my love. In whose love I joyed once. Affliction’s easier grown; Yet to the grave I will my sorrow bear; Then bear me softly by her door In love alone we hate to find I love, tho’ I despair. And although your sight I leave, And there with mourning heads deplore, Companions of our woe. Sight wherein my joys do lie, Cry loud, look down you pow’rs above, 15 So, so leave off this last lamenting kiss Till that death doth sense bereave, On her that slew me for her love. Celia1, for all these pangs you see Which sucks two souls, and vapours both away; Never shall affection die. As labouring in my breast, Turn, thou ghost, that way, and let me turn this, Then in an unfrequented cave I beg not that you’d favour me, And let ourselves benight our happiest day, Sad despair doth drive me hence; Where fairies haunt, prepare my grave But that you’d slight the rest. We ask none leave to love, nor will we owe This despair unkindness sends. Among wild satyrs in a grove How great so e’er your rigours are, Any so cheap a death as saying ‘Go’. If that parting be offence, That they may sing, I died for love. With them alone I’ll cope: It is she which then offends. I can endure my own despair, Go; and if that word have not quite killed thee, Last, build my tomb of lovers’ bones, But not another’s hope. Ease me with death by bidding me go too. Dear, if I do not return, Set round about with marble-stones, Or, if it have, let my word work on me, Love and I shall die together. My Scutcheon bearing Venus Dove, [1Changed from Sylvia to Celia for the And a just office on a murderer do. For my absence never mourn My epitaph, I died for love. purposes of the story of the cycle] Except it be too late, to kill me so, Whom you might have joyed ever; Being double dead, going, and bidding, ‘Go’. 20 Evening Hymn John Donne Part we must though now I die, Now that the sun hath veil’d his light Die I do to part with you. And bid the world goodnight; Him despair doth cause to lie To the soft bed my body I dispose, Who both liv’d and dieth true. But where shall my soul repose?

Sad despair doth drive me hence; Dear, dear God, even in Thy arms, This despair unkindness sends. And can there be any so sweet security! If that parting be offence, Then to thy rest, O my soul! It is she which then offends. And singing, praise the mercy That prolongs thy days.

Hallelujah! William Fuller

9 Nicholas Phan

Performing a wide-ranging repertoire from Monteverdi to Elliott Carter, American tenor Nicholas Phan has appeared with many of the leading orchestras in North America and Europe, including the New York Philharmonic, Boston Symphony Orchestra, Chicago Symphony Orchestra, Cleveland Orchestra, Philadelphia Orchestra, San Francisco Symphony, Los Angeles Philharmonic, St Louis Symphony, Les Violons du Roy, BBC Symphony, English Chamber Orchestra and the Lucerne Symphony. He has also toured extensively throughout the major concert halls of Europe with Il Complesso Barocco, and appeared with the Oregon Bach, Tanglewood, Ravinia, Marlboro, Edinburgh and Saint-Denis festivals, and at the BBC Proms. Among the conductors he has worked with are Harry Bicket, Pierre Boulez, James Conlon, Alan Curtis, Rafael Frühbeck de Burgos, Jane Glover, Bernard Labadie, Nicholas McGegan, Zubin Mehta, John Nelson, Helmuth Rilling, David Robertson and Michael Tilson Thomas. An avid proponent of vocal chamber music, he has collaborated with many chamber musicians, including pianists Mitsuko Uchida, Richard Goode and Jeremy Denk; guitarist Eliot Fisk; and horn players Jennifer Montone and Gail Williams. In recital, he has been presented by Carnegie Hall, the Metropolitan Museum of Art, Spivey Hall, the Philadelphia Chamber Music Society, the Boston Celebrity Series and the University of Chicago. He is also a founder and the artistic director of the Collaborative Arts Institute of Chicago, an organisation devoted to promoting the art song and vocal chamber music repertoire. Also considered one of the rising young stars of the opera world, Mr Phan’s recent opera performances have included his debuts at Glyndebourne Opera and the Seattle Opera, as well as appearances with the New York City Opera, Los Angeles Opera, Houston Grand Opera, the Maggio Musicale Fiorentino, Opéra de Lille and Oper Frankfurt. His growing repertoire includes the title roles in Acis and Galatea and Candide, Almaviva in Il barbiere di Siviglia, Nemorino in L’elisir d’amore, Fenton in Falstaff, Don Ottavio in Don Giovanni and Lurcanio in Ariodante. Mr Phan’s discography includes two other solo recital albums on Avie, Winter Words and Still Falls the Rain; a Grammy-nominated recording of Stravinsky’s Pulcinella with Pierre Boulez and the Chicago Symphony Orchestra (CSO Resound); Bach’s St Matthew Passion with the Ensemble Orchestral de Paris (Ideale Audience); the opera L’Olimpiade with the Venice Baroque Orchestra (Naïve); and world premiere recordings of Elliott Carter’s orchestra song cycle, A Sunbeam’s Architecture (NMC) and Evan Chambers’ orchestral song cycle, The Old Burying Ground (Dorian Sono Luminus). www.nicholas-phan.com

10 Ann Marie Morgan

Praised by the Baltimore Sun for her ‘beguiling musicality’, viola da gamba player Ann Marie Morgan has performed Bach’s St John and St Matthew Passions with the Philadelphia and Minnesota Orchestras, and Bach’s Brandenburg Concerto No.6 with the Cleveland Orchestra and Baltimore Symphony Orchestra. She has appeared at numerous Bach festivals including Oregon, Bethlehem and Boulder, and has been concerto soloist on viola da gamba and cello piccolo with Apollo’s Fire and the Baroque Chamber Orchestra of Colorado. Other highlights in recent seasons include touring with Les Violons du Roy under the direction of Bernard Labadie, appearances with Opera Colorado, performing with La Tempesta di Mare at the Prague Spring Festival, and continuing collaborations with the Cleveland Orchestra’s principal flautist Joshua Smith, theorbo player William Simms and Grammy-nominated harpsichordist Jory Vinikour. Receiving her artist diploma in viola da gamba and Baroque cello from Oberlin College Conservatory of Music, Ms Morgan became the instructor of both instruments at the Peabody Conservatory of Music in Baltimore, Maryland, a post she held for 11 years. She was also a long-time member of the early music faculty at the Interlochen Arts Camp, and has recently both taught and performed at the Institut für Alte Musik in Hannover, Germany. Chamber music is a staple of her career and a number of recordings have sprung from such collaborations. Together with her duo partner, William Simms, she has recorded a solo viola da gamba album entitled Among Rosebuds (released on Centaur). The J.S. Bach Flute Sonatas and Sonata from the Musical Offering (with Joshua Smith, and released on Delos), and The Soulful Bach and Telemann (with her own ensemble Olde Friends Concert Artists, and released on Centaur) feature Ms Morgan on Baroque cello. As a result of her 15-year appointment with Apollo’s Fire, she can be heard as cellist and violist da gamba on a dozen of that ensemble’s recordings. Other labels upon which one can hear Ms Morgan include Chandos, Dorian and Koch.

11 Michael Leopold

Michael Leopold holds both an undergraduate degree in music and a master’s degree in historical plucked instruments from American Universities, as well as a degree in lute and theorbo from L’Istituto di Musica Antica of the Accademia Internazionale della Musica in Milan, Italy. Originally from Northern California, he continues to reside in Milan and has performed both as a soloist and as an accompanist throughout Europe, Australia, Japan, Chile, Mexico and the United States. He has played with a number of leading Italian early music groups, including Concerto Italiano, La Risonanza, La Venexiana and La Pietà de’ Turchini, as well as several American period-instrument ensembles. He has also collaborated with a wide range of orchestras and opera companies, including Orchestra Verdi di Milano, Opera Australia, San Francisco Opera, Barcelona Opera, Los Angeles Opera, Houston Grand Opera, Washington National Opera, Dallas Symphony Orchestra, Glimmerglass Opera, Chicago Opera Theater, Gulbenkian Música, Cincinnati Opera and Portland Opera. His performances in operas have been acclaimed in various reviews: ‘Michael Leopold was a standout on theorbo, providing some of the most sensitive and heartfelt musical moments of the evening’ (Kathryn Bacasmot, Chicago Classical Music, 1 May 2012, reviewing Handel’s Teseo at Chicago Opera Theater); and ‘High marks especially to the marvellous theorbo, lute and baroque guitar specialist, Michael Leopold, whose recitatives added dazzling colour’ (Harvey Steiman, Seen and Heard International, 7 November 2011, reviewing Handel’s Xerxes at San Francisco Opera). He can be heard in recordings on the Stradivarius, Glossa, Naïve, MSM and Naxos labels.

12 Special thanks to Alan Fellowes, Albert Imperato, Leslie Ann Jones, Gorman Jones, Louis Phan & Sharlene Lim, Sem & Katherine Phan, Lisa Seischab, Simon Yates & Kevin Roon, & Anonymous.

Thank you to John W. Adams, Paul Appleby, Lisa Arnsdorf, Fotine Assimos, Marlan Barry, Jamie Barton, Matthew Beck, Julie Bevan, Laura Bird, Matthew Borkowski & Rob Krafty, Christian Campos, Robert Caverly-Paxton, Adam Crane, Craig Cruz, Gabriel Di Gennaro, Lawrence Dunn, Judith Erb, Dr Daniel J.O. Evans, Alex Fletcher, Walter Frenk, Stanislaus Fung, Andrew Gillespie, Bruce Gillespie, Joseph Hallman, Stephanie Holtzman, Myra & Ed Huang, H.C. Leong, Jennifer Johnson, Elizabeth Kerr, Deborah Kim, Steve & Robin Kunkel, Yvonne Lam, Joe Law, William R. Leben, Mary Leger, Jane Marshall, Shannon McGinnis, David McKenna, Nancy Meacham, Lee Mills, Reginald Mobley, Dagmar Moore, James Morthland, Melanne Mueller, James Nacy, Graham Parker, James Parr, Jesse Parsons, Janet Pascal, Amy Pennington, Joseph Peters-Mathews, Juliet Petrus Laurenti, Timothy Pfaff, Kelli Phillips, James W. Plunkett, Ian Ritchie, Miguel A. Rodriguez, Maria Sampanis, Kindra Scharich, Amanda Sharp, Timothy Stewart-Winter, Ryan Strand, Kannan Thiruvengadam, Zachary Vanderburg, Xenia Varelas, Patrick Vaz, Frank Villella, Brendon Watson, Christopher Weimer, Kira Whiting, Lisa Williams, Emily Wilson-Tobin, Angelika Witt, Matt Young, & Anonymous.

13 Also available from Nicholas Phan on AVIE Records

Britten: Winter Words Britten: Still Falls the Rain AV2238 AV2258

AV2325