BELVEDERE PRODUCTIONS presents a recital of Schubert Lieder Please join the performers after the concert with for complimentary drinks and tortes by EMMA HORWOOD Soprano Gabriele. JAMIE COCK Piano GEOFFREY BOURGAULT du COUDRAY Clarinet Emma and Jamie's CD, Night Dreams will be SUNDAY OCTOBER 23rd available. An die Musik Auf dem Wasser zu singen Die Forelle Du Bist die Ruh Andante in A major for solo piano Vier Canzonen Gretchen am Spinnrade Interval Ave, Maria! Liebhaber in allen Gestalten Standchen D957 No. 4 Pilgrim Church provides wheelchair access via the Heidenlroslein rear (northern) doors. N acht und Traume Toilets can be accessed through the door on the left Der Hirt auf dem Felsen of the performance area. An die Musik (To Music) Die Forelle (The Trout) You, gracious art In how many grey hours In a bright little brook Where my life's wild circle surrounds there shot in merry haste Have you mine heart to warm love lifted up a capricious trout: Has me into a better world led. past it shot like an arrow. I stood upon the shore Often has a sigh from your harp escaped and watched in sweet peace A sweet holy chord from you the cheery fish's bath The better time of heaven revealing to me. in the clear little brook. You, gracious art, I thank you for it. A fisher with his. rod Auf dem Wasser zu singen (To be sung on the Water) stood at the water-side, and watched with cold blood Amid the shimmer of mirroring waves as the fish swam about. The rocking boat glides like a swan; So long as the clearness of the water On the gently shimmering waves of joy remained intact, I thought, The soul glides just like the boat; he would not be able to capture the trout From the sky the sun's last rays shine down, with his fishing rod. Dancing all around the boat. But finally the thief grew weary Above the treetops of the grove in the west of waiting. He stirred up The pleasant ruddy glow beckons to us, the brook and made it muddy, Beneath the branches of the grove in the east and before I realized it, The reeds whisper in the ruddy glow; his fishing rod was twitching: And in the blushing glow the soul the fish was squirming there, Breathes heavenly joy and the calm of the grove. and with raging blood I gazed at the betrayed fish. Alas, on dewy wings does time Fly from me on the rippling waves. At the golden fountain Tomorrow, on shimmering wings, will time of youth, you linger so confidently; Escape me, as it did yesterday and today, But think of the trout, Until I met myself, with loftier, splendid wings, and if you see danger, flee! Shall escape the passage of time. Mostly it is from lack Vier Canzonen of cleverness that maidens miss the angling seducers. I So beware! otherwise you may bleed too late! Do not approach the urn Which contains my bones, This pitiful earth Du Bist die Ruh (You are Peace) Is sacred to my grief. Thou art repose I spurn the hyacinths you bring, and gentle peace. I do not want your tears. All earthly woes What use to the dead where thou art cease. are two tears, two flowers? Trouble shall flee Faithless one! You should have far from my soul; offered me a ray of hope My heart by thee while I still dragged out my life shall be made whole. in the vale of sighs. In this domain, Ah, why deafen the forest Oh reign supreme; with futile weeping? Oh lasting make Respect an unhappy shadow this blissful dream. and allow it to sleep. Thou heart's desire, II bourne of rest, See how white the moon is, Come nigh and nigher See how blue the night. to this lone breast No breeze whispers, No stem trembles. My tented eyes from gloom of night The lone nightingale See Paradise, Flies from the hedge to the ash-tree, full of thy light. And sighing all the while, Calls to his faithful love. She, who can hardly hear him, Comes from branch to branch, And she seems to say to him: Do not weep, I am here. Above my bed hangs a carbon print of the painting by Gustav Klimt: Schubert. Schubert is singing songs for What lamenting is this, piano by candlelight with three little Viennese Misses. What gentle cries, Irene? Beneath it I scribbled: "One of my gods! People created the You were never able gods so as, despite all, to somehow rouse otherwise to answer me like this. unfulfilled ideals hidden in their hearts into a more vital form!" III I often read from Niggli's Schubert biography. Its intent, From that face 1 learned you see, is to present Schubert's life, not Niggli's thoughts to sigh with love, about it. But I have returned a hundred time to the I shall always sigh with love passage on page 37. He was a music teacher on the estate for that face. of Count Esterhazy in Zelesz, an instructor to the very young Countesses Marie and Karoline. To Karoline he lost The fire which inflamed me his heart. Thus emerged his creations for four-handed is my only joy and pleasure, piano. The young countess never learned of his profound all other flames are too cold affection. Only once when she teased him that he had to warm my heart. never dedicated a single one of his compositions to her, he replied: "What for?! As it is, it's all for you!" IV As if a heart about to burst revealed its grief and then Remember me, my beloved, closed up again for eternity-. That's why I often turn to if I should die, page 37 in Niggli's biography of Schubert. how much my faithful heart loved you. Peter Altenberg And if cold ashes are capable of love, then in the grave, I shall still adore you. The magic of Gretchen am Spinnrade His eloquent tongue, (Gretchen at the spinning-wheel) The grip of his hand And oh! His kiss! My peace is gone, My heart is heavy. My peace is gone. I'll never find peace, My heart is heavy. No, never again. I'll never find peace, [ No never again. When he is not with me I am as though dead, t My bosom yearns The whole world For him, Is bitter gall. o that I might grasp him And hold him tight, My poor head Is distraught, And kiss him My poor mind As I long to do, Is shattered. That I might expire Of his kisses! My peace is gone. My heart is heavy. My peace is gone. I'll never find peace, My heart is heavy. No never again. Only him do I seek, When I look out of the window, Only to find him Do I leave the house. His lofty gait, His noble bearing His smiling lips, His compelling glance, Ave, Maria! Liebhaber in allen Gestalten (Lovers in all guises) A ve, Maria! Maiden mild! I wish I were a fish, Oh listen to a maiden's prayer; So agile and lively; For thou canst hear tho' from the wild, And if you went fishing, And Thou canst save amid despair. I would not avoid you, Safe may we sleep beneath thy care I wish I were a fish, Tho' banish'd outcast and reviled, So agile and lively. Oh, Maiden hear a maidens prayer. Oh Mother, hear a suppliant child! I wish I were gold, Ave Maria! Always at your disposal; Whenever you bought something A ve, Maria! Undefiled! I would hurry to you. The flinty couch we now must share, I wish I were gold, Shall seem with down of eider piled Always at you disposal. If Thy, if Thy protection hover there. The murky cavern's heavy air But I am what I am, Shall breath of Balm if thou hast smiled; You must accept me! Then, Maiden hear a maiden's prayer. If you want someone better Oh Mother, hear a suppliant child! You'll have to get them carved. AveMaria! I am what I am, You must accept me. Ave, Maria! Stainless-styled! Foul demons of the earth and air, Standchen D957 No. 4 From this their wonted haunt exiled, Softly my songs cry Shall flee, shall flee before thy presence fair. through the night to you. We bow us to our lot of care Down to the quiet grove, Beneath Thy guidance reconciled, beloved, come to me! Hear for a maid a maiden's prayer; And for a father bear a child! Slender treetops rustle, whisper Ave Maria! in the moonlight; that hostile listeners will betray you, do not be afraid, my darling. Do you hear the nightingale's singing? Ah, they are crying to you; Heidenroslein (Rosebud on the Heath) with their songs of sweet complaint A boy saw a rose they are weeping for me. Growing on the heath, As fair as the beauty of morning, They know the heart's longing, He ran to look at it more closely know the pain of love, And saw it to his delight. touch with their silver tones Little rosebud so red, every tender breast. Little rosebud on the heath. Let your breast too be moved, The boy said: "I'll pluck you, beloved, hear me; Little rosebud on the heath!" trembling I am waiting for you! Th rose replied: "1'11 prick you, Come, make me happy! So that you'll always remember me, And I won't endure it.