ANN ARBOR FESTIVAL OF SONG PRESENTS THE TWENTY-THIRD ANNUAL WEEK AFTER ART FA IR SONG FEST WEDNE SDAY JULY 2 7 , 2 0 1 6 , 8 : 0 0 P M SONGS WE LOVE TO SING FRANZ SCHUBERT (1797-1828) Jane Schoonmaker Rodgers, soprano

Erlkönig (The Erl-King) "Do you, fine boy, want to go with me? An Sylvia (Who is Silvia?) Johann Wolfgang von Goethe My daughters shall wait on you finely; From Two Gentlemen of Verona; My daughters lead the nightly dance, Who rides, so late, through night and wind? And sway and dance and sing to bring you in." William Shakespeare It is the father with his child. "My father, my father, and don't you see there Who is Silvia? what is she, He has the boy firmly in his arm The Elf-king's daughters in the gloomy place?" That all our swains commend her? He holds him safely, he keeps him warm. "My son, my son, I see it clearly: Holy, fair, and wise is she; "My son, why do you hide your face in fear?" There shimmer the old willows so grey." The heaven such grace did lend her, "Father, do you not see the Elf-king? That she might admirèd be. "I love you, your beautiful form entices me; The Elf-king with crown and cape?" And if you're not willing, then I will use force." Is she kind as she is fair? "My son, it's a streak of fog." "My father, my father, he's touching me now! For beauty lives with kindness. "You dear child, come, go with me! The Elf-king has done me harm!" Love doth to her eyes repair, Very beautiful games I will play with you; To help him of his blindness; The father is horrified; he swiftly rides on, Many a colorful flower is on the shore, And, being helped, inhabits there. He holds the moaning child in his arms, My mother has many a golden robe." He reaches the farm with great difficulty; Then to Silvia let us sing, "My father, my father, and do you not hear, In his arms, the child was dead. That Silvia is excelling; What the Elf-king quietly promises me?" She excels each mortal thing "Be calm, stay calm, my child; Upon the dull earth dwelling; Through the thin leaves the wind is sighing." To her let us garlands bring.

PYOTR ILYICH TCHAIKOVSKY (1840-1893) Nur wer die Sehnsucht kennt Chy Billings, baritone CLAUDE DEBUSSY (1862-1918) Noël des enfants qui n'ont plus de maisons LUIGI DENZA (1846-1922) Occhi di Fata ALFRED BACHELET (1864-1944) Chere nuit (Dear night) Madeline Harts, soprano Soon the hour will be here. Dear night of serene radiance, you who bring back my tender love, Behind the hill I see the sun set and jealously hide its rays. Ah, descend and veil the earth with your calm and charming mystery. I hear the singing soul of things, and the narcissuses and roses My happiness is reborn under your wings, send me the sweetest perfumes! O night, more beautiful than any days: Ah, arise and again make the dawn of my love shine forth! ARTHUR HONEGGER (1892-1955) Ellen Strba Scholl, mezzo-soprano Six Poèmes d'Apollinaire (Six poems of Guillaume Apollinaire) A LA SANTÉ (To your health) As the hours slowly pass like a funeral procession You will mourn the hour of your weeping SALTIMBANQUES (Traveling entertainers) That too will pass quickly as all hours do On the plain, the traveling-players wander through the garden Before the closed doors of the grey inns through the village without churches CLOTILDE And the children proceed them, the others follow dreamily Then anemone and columbine grew in the garden Each fruit tree resigns itself when from afar, the signal is given Where melancholy sleeps between love and disdain They have some round and square weights Our shadow is also there which the night dispelled Some drums, some golden hoops The sun that makes them darker will disappear with them The bears and monkeys, clever animals, beg for pennies along the way The gods of the spring water let their hair flow Go, you must follow this beautiful shadow that you desire. L'ADIEU (The farewell) AUTOMNE (Autumn) I have picked this sprig of heather Through the fog walks a knock-kneed peasant and his ox Autumn is dead, remember this Slowly through the autumn fog that hide the poor shameful villages We will never see each other on earth again And going down the rode the peasant sings a song of love and infidelity Scent of the season, sprig of heather, Which tells of a ring and a heart that is breaking And remember that I am waiting for you. Oh! Autumn. Autumn has killed summer. In the fog, two grey silhouettes pass by. ---continued--- LES CLOCHES (The bells) Tomorrow Cyprian and Henry, Mary, Ursula and Catherine, the bakery's wife My handsome gypsy lover, listen to the bells that chime and her husband and then Gertrude my cousin We loved one another madly, believing that we were not seen by anyone Will all smile when I pass by I will not know where to hide myself The clocks all around, saw us from the heights of their towers You will be far away, I will cry, perhaps will die And they told the whole world My Handsome gypsy lover, listen to the bells that chime

ALBAN BERG (1885-1935) Hillary LaBonte, soprano Selections from Sieben frühe lieder (Seven early songs)

Nacht (Night) Drink, my soul! Drink in this solitude! Die Nachtigall (The Nightingale) Text by Carl Hauptmann O listen! pay heed! Text by Theodor Storm The clouds embrown the night and valley; Schilflied (Reed song) It happened because the nightingale the mists float above, the water rushing gently. sang the whole night long; Now all at once they unveil themselves: Text by Nikolas Lenau from her sweet call, O listen! pay heed! Along a secret forest path from the echo and re-echo, roses have sprung up. A broad land of wonder has opened up. I like to creep in the evening light; Silver mountains rise up, fantastically huge, I go to the desolate, reedy banks, She was but recently a wild blossom, quiet paths lit with silver lead toward the valley and think, my maiden, of you! and now she walks, deep in thought; from some hidden place; As the bushes grow dark, she carries her summer hat in her hand, the reeds hiss mysteriously, enduring quietly the heat of the sun, and the noble world is so dreamily pure. and lament and whisper, knowing not what to begin. A mute beech stands by the path, and thus I have to weep and weep. black with shadows; a breeze from a distant, It happened because the nightingale lonely grove And I think that I hear wafting sang the whole night long; wafts gently by. the gentle sound of your voice, from her sweet call, and down into the pond sinks from the echo and re-echo, And from the deep darkness of the valley your lovely song. roses have sprung up. flash lights in the silent night.

BRIEF INTERMISSION

Christopher Scholl, tenor John Mink, baritone W. DENIS BROWNE (1888-1915): COLE PORTER (1891-1964) The isle of lost dreams Night and Day (From Gay Divorce) To Gratiana dancing and singing Were Thine the Special Face (From Kiss Me, Kate) Rebekah Kroesing, soprano SAMUEL BARBER (1910-1981): Nuvoletta Christine Amon, mezzo-soprano

Teri Herron, soprano ERICH KORNGOLD (1897-1957) From Four Songs, op. 33: MICHAEL PATTERSON (b. 1953): Four Songs Desdemona's Song Hope Peace The Silver Swan Poem Under the Greenwood Tree

Christine Amon, mezzo-soprano John Glann, baritone TOM CIPULLO (b. 1956) GERALD FINZI (1901-1956): Let Us Garlands Bring From Another Reason Why I Don't Keep a Gun in the House: Come away, come away, death Who is Sylvia? Desire Embrace Fear no more the heat o' the sun Gregory Ashe, tenor O Mistress Mine It was a lover and his lass VINCENT YOUMANS (1898-1946) Without a Song (from Great Day)