MUSIC AT ROSEDALE (2018-2019) …continues Music at

Sunday 9 December 2018, 10:30am CHORAL CANTATA SERVICE: Gloria, RV589 – Antonio Vivaldi In its annual Cantata service the RPC Choir offers this beautiful and exuberant seasonal music with accompaniment from its magnificent Rosedale Karl Wilhelm organ. There is no admission cost to this service.

Friday 8 February 2019, 7:30pm “SONGS OF TRAVEL” TRIO NUA – TORONTO TRADITIONAL CELTIC TRIO Sunday November 18th 2018 NUA is an award-winning innovative trio, bringing a fresh and unique 4 o’clock p.m. sound to traditional music, creating their own distinctive original compositions, joined with tunes from Irish and Scottish traditions.

Sunday 7 April 2019, 4:00pm “LENT AND LIGHT” – HOGTOWN BRASS WITH THE RPC CHOIR The RPC-resident Hogtown Brass is a Toronto chamber ensemble dedicated to pushing the boundaries of the traditional brass ensemble. They join the RPC Choir in a program of Lenten and light classics prior to leaving on a tour of the Maritime provinces. Rosedale Presbyterian Church Good Friday 19 April 2019, 10:30am 129 Mount Pleasant Road Toronto, Ontario, Canada CHORAL SERVICE – MASS by Steve Dobrogocz www.rosedalepresbyterianchurch.ca Musicians and Ministers from Rosedale Presbyterian and St Andrew’s United Churches join annually for their Good Friday offering. In 2018 this powerful service features the Mass for Choir, Strings and Jazz Piano by American/Swedish composer Steve Dobrogocz. There is no admission cost to this service.

www.rosedalepresbyterianchurch.ca

Baritone Peter McGillivray has been described in the national press as Boarding Homes Ministry alleviates poverty of companionship, “a gifted comic actor,” with a “rich, flexible and strong voice.” He has practicing inclusion by visiting marginalized people in low-income housing. performed lead roles with the as well as opera Most of the people we visit are isolated due to the stigma of mental illness, companies in Dallas, Victoria, Vancouver, Edmonton, , Saskatoon, addictions, and poverty. Together, we co-create relationships faithfulness Manitoba, Hamilton, Ottawa and Quebec City. Additionally he spent the and delight. BHM also advocates for inclusion through educational workshops 2010-11 season on the roster of the Metropolitan Opera in New York in for faith communities on welcoming people who have experienced mental productions of La Bohème and Strauss’ Capriccio. His current season illness and trauma. BHM was founded by the Rev. Rodger Hunter, who served involves productions of Moby Dick with the Dallas Opera, Messiah with the as Chaplain and Executive Director throughout its history, until he passed Elmer Iseler Singers in Toronto, Don Magnifico for ’s away in April 2017. Rodger was a great lover of music and poetry and keenly Cinderella and Dr. Bartolo in Le Barbier de Séville with Opéra de Québec. committed to the notion of home in the lives of many of society’s vulnerable. Tonight’s concert is offered in memory of, and tribute to him. Christopher Dawes has served Rosedale Presbyterian Church as Director of Music since September 2016, the conducting programs of the The current Chaplain and Executive Director of Boarding Homes Ministry is Faculty of Music, University of Toronto since 2004 and Canada’s Summer Kate McGee, whose brainchild this evening was, and to whom RPC is grateful Institute of Church Music as its 3rd Director since 2005. A busy and sought- for her inspiration of this concert and for lending her voice to the singing. after recitalist and keyboard performer across many parts of Toronto’s musical landscape he also currently directs the Marion Singers of Greater Boarding Homes Ministry Toronto (an a capella chamber choir performing in support of charitable Suite 200, 73 Simcoe Street causes throughout the GTA), and in the town where he resides with his Toronto, Ontario, M5J 1W9 family, he is acting Artistic Director to the 90-voice Georgetown Society. [email protected] boardinghomesministry.ca

The Choir of Rosedale Presbyterian Church is a volunteer/ professional choral ensemble serving the regular Sunday and special services of RPC, as well as taking part in occasional concerts in the Music at Rosedale series. Its soloists are some of Toronto’s finest professional choristers, fulfilling a role of encouragement and enabling that blesses both the volunteer members singing side-by-side with them, and their congregation and audiences. Rosedale Presbyterian Church was founded in 1907, expanded

for its swelling congregation in 1955, and gained its exquisite Karl Wilhelm Soloists of the Choir of Rosedale Presbyterian Church organ in 1983. For decades RPC has lived a commitment to faith, community Christopher Dawes, Director of Music life and work, mission, and fine and diverse music in both worship services (* = absent in this performance) and various forms of outreach to the broader community. The “Music at

Rosedale” Series offers an eclectic season of chamber concerts to its SOPRANO ALTO TENOR BASS community, and a new Audio and Recording Ministry launching in 2018 is Brooke Dufton Nancy Olfert Charles Fowler *Lawrence Cotton intended to share RPC’s fine space, instruments and other musical gifts with Julia Frodyma Joseph Lévesque *Mikhail Shemet the Toronto musical community and the broader world. Rebecca Genge

www.rosedalepresbyterianchurch.ca GUEST SINGERS Kate McGee, Daniel Bevan-Baker, Taylor Gibbs Bless the roof-tree overhead and every sturdy wall; I. A HOME IN HEAVEN The peace of one, the peace of God, the peace of love on all,

The road is long and weary, but the light from home is nearing. Wie lieblich sind (Ein Deutches Requiem) – J. Brahms We all leave so we can know the reason why we want to go home. Text: Psalm 84:1,2,4 How lovely are thy dwellings: thou Lord of hosts! For solace and safety, home; My soul hath a desire and longing to enter into the courts of the Lord: Where the world will not break me, home; my heart and my flesh rejoice in the living God. Leave the light on for me, Blessed are they that dwell in thy house: Never forsake me, take me home. they will always be praising thee.

Deep River – spiritual arr. Ringwald IV. A HOME IN SONG AND IMAGINATION Text: traditional Deep River; my home is over Jordan Serenade to Music - Deep River, I want to cross over into campground. Text: William Shakespeare ('The Merchant of Venice') Oh, don't you want to go to that gospel feast, How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank! That promised land where all is peace? Here will we sit and let the sounds of music creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night become the touches of sweet harmony. Angel Band – Gospel hymn by Wm. Bradbury arr. Shawn Kirchner

Look how the floor of heaven is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold: Text: Jefferson Hascall, 1860 There's not the smallest orb that thou behold'st but in his motion like an angel The latest sun is sinking fast, my race is almost run; sings, still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins; Such harmony is in immortal souls; My strongest trials now are past, my triumph is begun. But whilst this muddy vesture of decay doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it. O Come, angel band, come and around me stand, O bear me away on your snow-white wings to my immortal home. Come, ho! and wake Diana with a hymn! I know I'm near the holy ranks of friends and kindred dear, With sweetest touches pierce your mistress' ear, and draw her home with music. the dew on Jordan's banks: the crossing must be near. O Come... “I am never merry when I hear sweet music.” I've almost gained my heavenly home, my spirit loudly sings, The reason is, your spirits are attentive – the man that hath no music in himself, The holy ones, behold, they come, I hear the noise of wings. Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds, is fit for treasons, stratagems and O Come... spoils; The motions of his spirit are dull as night, and his affections dark as Erebus: Let no such man be trusted.

Music! Hark! It is your music of the house. Methinks it sounds much sweeter than II. A HOME LOST by day. Silence bestows that virtue on it. How many things by season season'd are to their right praise and true perfection! Peace, ho! The moon sleeps with Endymion and would not be awak'd. Knoxville Summer of 1915 – Samuel Barber: Brooke Dufton, soprano It has become that time of evening when people sit on their porches, rocking gently Soft stillness and the night become the touches of sweet harmony. and talking gently and watching the street and the standing up into their sphere of possession of the trees, of birds' hung havens, hangars. People go by; things go by. (Reception follows in the Great Hall)

A horse, drawing a buggy, breaking his hollow iron music on the asphalt; a loud The Gasman Cometh - Flanders & Swan: Charles Fowler, tenor auto; a quiet auto; people in pairs, not in a hurry, scuffling, switching their weight of 'Twas on a Monday morning the gas man came to call; aestival body, talking casually. The gas tap wouldn't turn, I wasn't getting gas at all. He tore out all the skirting boards to try and find the main Parents on porches: rock and rock. From damp strings morning glories hang their And I had to call a carpenter to put them back again ancient faces. The dry and exalted noise of the locusts from all the air at once Oh, it all makes work for the working man to do! enchants my eardrums. 'Twas on a Tuesday morning the carpenter came round; On the rough wet grass of the back yard my father and mother have spread quilts. He hammered and he chiselled and he said: "Look what I've found! We all lie there, my mother, my father, my uncle, my aunt, and I too am lying Your joists are full of dry-rot but I'll put them all to rights." there.... They are not talking much, and the talk is quiet, of nothing in particular, of Then he nailed right through a cable and out went all the lights. nothing at all. The stars are wide and alive, they seem each like a smile of great Oh, it all makes work for the working man to do! sweetness, and they seem very near. All my people are larger bodies than mine, 'Twas on a Wednesday morning the electrician came; with voices gentle and meaningless like the voices of sleeping birds. One is an artist, He called me "Mr Sanderson", which isn't quite my name. he is living at home. One is a musician, she is living at home. One is my mother who He couldn't reach the fuse box without standing on the bin is good to me. One is my father who is good to me. By some chance, here they are, And his foot went through a window so I called a glazier in. all on this earth; and who shall ever tell the sorrow of being on this earth, lying, on Oh, it all makes work for the working man to do! quilts, on the grass, in a summer evening, among the sounds of the night. May God bless my people, my uncle, my aunt, my mother, my good father, oh, remember 'Twas on a Thursday morning the glazier came along; them kindly in their time of trouble; and in the hour of their taking away. With his blowtorch and his putty and his merry glazier's song He put another pane in; it took no time at all After a little I am taken in and put to bed. Sleep, soft smiling, draws me unto her: But I had to get a painter in to come and paint the wall and those receive me, who quietly treat me, as one familiar and well-beloved in Oh, it all makes work for the working man to do! that home: but will not, oh, will not, not now, not ever; but will not ever tell me who I am. 'Twas on a Friday morning the painter made a start; With undercoats and overcoats he painted every part, Every nook and every cranny, but I found when he was gone He'd painted over the gas tap and I couldn't turn it on! Oh, it all makes work for the working man to do! It’s a Long way to Tipperary (audience sing-along) On Saturday and Sunday they do no work at all - CHORUS: So 'twas on a Monday morning that the gas man came to call! It’s a long way to Tipperary, it’s a long way to go! It’s a long way to Tipperary, to the sweetest girl I know. Take me Home - The Ennis Sisters Good-bye, Piccadilly; farewell Leicester Square! Trio: Julia Frodyma, Brooke Dufton, Nancy Olfert It’s a long, long way to Tipperary, Bless the corners of this house and be the lintel blessed; But my heart’s right there. Bless the hearth and every board and each place of rest; And every door that opens wide to stranger as to kin, And every crystal window pane that lets the starlight in.

Home, I'm going home: for solace and safety, home; Where the world will not break me, home; Never forsake me, take me home. III. A HOME ON EARTH Songs of Travel - Ralph Vaughan Williams: Peter McGillivray, baritone Song for a Winter's Night - Gordon Lightfoot Text: Robert Louis Stevenson The lamp is burnin' low upon my table top, the snow is softly fallin'; The air is still within the silence of my room, I hear your voice softly callin'. 1. The Vagabond Give to me the life I love, let the lave go by me, If I could only have you near to breathe a sigh or two; Give the jolly heaven above, and the byway nigh me. I would be happy just to hold the hands I love upon this winter night with you Bed in the bush with stars to see, bread I dip in the river – There’s the life for a man like me, there’s the life for ever. The smoke is rising in the shadows overhead, my glass is almost empty; I read again between the lines upon the page the words of love you sent me. Let the blow fall soon or late, let what will be o’er me; Give the face of earth around, and the road before me. If I could know within my heart that you were lonely too Wealth I seek not, hope nor love, nor a friend to know me; I would be happy just to hold the hands I love upon this winter night with you All I seek, the heaven above, and the road below me.

The fire is dying now, my lamp is growing dim, the shades of night are liftin'; Or let autumn fall on me where afield I linger, The mornin' light steals across my windowpane where webs of snow are driftin'. Silencing the bird on tree, biting the blue finger. White as meal the frosty field – warm the fireside haven – If I could only have you near... Not to autumn will I yield, not to winter even!

Song for the Mira - arr John Greer: Julia Frodyma, soprano Let the blow fall soon or late... Out on the Mira one warm afternoon, old men go fishing with black line and spoon And if they catch nothing they never complain, I wish I was with them again. 2. Let Beauty Awake There's boys in their boats call to girls on the shore, teasing the one that they really Let Beauty awake in the morn from beautiful dreams, adore, And into the evening the courting begins, I wish I was with them again. Beauty awake from rest! Let Beauty awake for Beauty’s sake Can you imagine a piece of the universe more fit for princes and kings? In the hour when the birds awake in the brake I'll trade you ten of your cities for Marion Bridge and the pleasure it brings. And the stars are bright in the west!

Out on the Mira on soft summer nights the bonfires blaze to the children's delight Let Beauty awake in the eve from the slumber of day, They dance round the flames singing songs with their friends; I wish I was with them Awake in the crimson eve! again. Over the ashes the stories are told of witches and werewolves and old pirate In the day’s dusk end when the shades ascend, gold Stars on the river, they sparkle and spin; I wish I was with them again. Let her wake to the kiss of a tender friend, To render again and receive! Can you imagine… 3. The Roadside Fire Out on the Mira the people are kind, they'll treat you to home-brew and help you I will make you brooches and toys for your delight unwind. And if you come broken they'll see that you mend: I wish I was with them Of bird-song at morning and star-shine at night, again. Now I'll conclude with a wish you go well, sweet be your dreams and your I will make a palace fit for you and me happiness swell, I'll leave you here, for my journey begins, I wish I was with them Of green days in forests, and blue days at sea. again. I'm going to be with them again. I will make my kitchen, and you shall keep your room, 7. Whither must I wander? Where white flows the river and bright blows the broom; Home, no more home to me, whither must I wander? And you shall wash your linen and keep your body white Hunger my driver, I go where I must. In rainfall at morning and dewfall at night. Cold blows the winter wind over hill and heather: Thick drives the rain and my roof is in the dust. And this shall be for music when no one else is near, Loved of wise men was the shade of my roof-tree, The fine song for singing, the rare song to hear! The true word of welcome was spoken in the door– That only I remember, that only you admire, Dear days of old with the faces in the firelight, Of the broad road that stretches and the roadside fire. Kind folks of old, you come again no more.

4. Youth and Love Home was home then, my dear, full of kindly faces, To the heart of youth the world is a highwayside. Home was home then, my dear, happy for the child. Passing for ever, he fares; and on either hand, Fire and the windows bright glittered on the moorland; Deep in the gardens golden pavilions hide, Song, tuneful song, built a palace in the wild. Nestle in orchard bloom, and far on the level land Now when day dawns on the brow of the moorland, Call him with lighted lamp in the eventide. Lone stands the house, and the chimney-stone is cold. Lone let it stand, now the friends are all departed, Thick as stars at night when the moon is down, The kind hearts, the true hearts, that loved the place of old. Pleasures assail him. He to his nobler fate Fares; and but waves a hand as he passes on, Spring shall come, come again, calling up the moorfowl, Cries but a wayside word to her at the garden gate, Spring shall bring the sun and the rain, bring the bees and flowers; Sings but a boyish stave and his face is gone. Red shall the heather bloom over hill and valley, Soft flow the stream through the even-flowing hours. 5. In Dreams Fair the day shine as it shone on my childhood– Fair shine the day on the house with open door; In dreams unhappy, I behold you stand as heretofore: Birds come and cry there and twitter in the chimney– The unremember’d tokens in your hand avail no more. But I go for ever and come again no more.

No more the morning glow, no more the grace, enshrines, endears. Cold beats the light of time upon your face and shows your tears. 8. Bright is the ring of words Bright is the ring of words when the right man rings them, He came and went. Perchance you wept awhile and then forgot. Fair the fall of songs when the singer sings them, Ah me! But he that left you with a smile forgets you not. Still they are carolled and said – on wings they are carried – After the singer is dead and the maker buried. 6. The infinite shining heavens Low as the singer lies in the field of heather, The infinite shining heavens rose, and I saw in the night Songs of his fashion bring the swains together. Uncountable angel stars showering sorrow and light. And when the west is red with the sunset embers,

The lover lingers and sings and the maid remembers. I saw them distant as heaven, dumb and shining and dead, And the idle stars of the night were dearer to me than bread.

Night after night in my sorrow the stars looked over the sea, Till lo! I looked in the dusk and a star had come down to me. INTERMISSION