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THE BOB COLE CONSERVATORY OF MUSIC AT CALIFORNIA STATE UNIVERSITY, LONG BEACH AND THE COLLEGE OF THE ARTS PROUDLY PRESENT KATIE ODELL SOPRANO IN A JUNIOR RECITAL FRIDAY, APRIL 30, 2021 4:00PM PROGRAM From 36 Arie di Stile Antico Freschi luogi, prati aulenti Stefano Donaudy Vaghissima sembianza (1875-1925) Auf Flügeln des Gesanges Felix Mendelssohn from Op. 34 Sech Gesanges (1809-1847) Gretchen am Spinnrade Franz Schubert (1797-1828) Wie melodien zieht es mir Johannes Brahms from Op. 105 Fünf Lieder (1833-1897) “L’année en vain chasse l’année” Claude Debussy from L’enfant prodigue (1862-1918) INTERMISSION “Iolanta’s Arioso” Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky from Iolanta (1840-1893) Nuit d’étoiles Claude Debussy (1862-1918) La mer est plus belle Claude Debussy from Trois mélodies de Verlaine (1862-1918) “I have dreamt” Bernard Herrmann from Wuthering Heights (1911-1975) Do not go, my love Richard Hageman (1881-1966) “Carceleras” Ruperto Chapí from Las hijas del Zebedeo (1851-1909) TEXT AND TRANSLATIONS Freschi luogi, prati aulenti Cool Places, Fragrant Meadows Poetry by Alberto Donaudy Freschi luogi, prati aulenti, Cool places, fragrant meadows, Rimanete sempre in fior; Remain forever in bloom; Che l’estate non vi sementi, Let summer not go to seed, Che l’autunno non vi travolga, Let the autumn not overwhelm you, Che la morta stagion non tolga Let the dead season not take away Tanto magico splendor. Your rich, magical splendor. Voglio un dì vagar con lei I want one day to walk with her Fra sì verde soavità, Amid such green softness, Quando alfin gli affanni miei When at last, my heart’s anguish Lei d’intender mostrerà, She will understand, Lei d’intender mostrerà. She will understand. Freschi luogi, prati aulenti, Cool places, fragrant meadows, Rimanete sempre in fior, Remain forever in bloom; Che nessuna stagion vi tolga Let no season take away Tanto magico splendor. Your rich, magical splendor. E voi pur, ruscelli chiari, And you then, clear streams, Che di già correte al mar, Which are running quickly to the sea, Di vostr’acque non siate avari Do not let your waters run low Nelle tarde stagion dell’anno, In the late season of the year, Non unite anche voi l’inganno Do not subscribe to the deception D’un si breve prosperar. Of the summer’s brief abundance. Vo’ specchiarmi un dì con lei I want myself to be reflected one day with her Nelle vostre chiarità, In your clarity, Quando alfin gli affanni miei When at last, my heart’s anguish Lei d’intender mostrerà, She will understand, Lei d’intender mostrerà. She will understand. E voi pur, ruscelli chiari, And you then, clear streams, Che di gia correte al mar, Which are running quickly to the sea, Non unite anche voi l’inganno Do not subscribe to the deception D’un sì breve prosperar. Of the summer’s brief abundance. Vaghissima sembianza Beautiful Portrait Poetry by Alberto Donaudy Vaghissima sembianza Beautiful portrait D’antico donna amata, Of a past love, Chi, dunque, va ritratta, Who was it that painted you Contanta somiglianza With such clarity Ch’io guardo, e parlo, e credo That I look, and speak, and believe D’avervi a me davanti That you are here before me Come ai bei di d’amor? As once in the beautiful days of love? La cara rimembranza The tender memories Che in cor mi s’è destata That have been awakened in my heart Si ardente v’ha già fatta So passionately already Rinascer la speranza, Have revived my hope, Che un bacio, un voto, un grido That a kiss, a vow, a cry D’amore più non chiedo Of love - I ask no more Che a lei che muta è ognor. Of the one who is forever silent. Auf Flügeln des Gesanges On Wings of Song Poetry by Heinrich Heine Auf Flügeln des Gesanges, On wings of song, Herzliebchen, trag ich dich fort, My darling, I’ll carry you away, Fort nach den Fluren des Ganges, Away to the fields of the Ganges, Dort weiß ich den schönsten Ort. Where I know the loveliest place; Dort liegt ein rotblühender Garten There lies a garden of red flowers Im stillen Mondenschein; In the still moonlight; Die Lotosbumen erwarten The lotuses await Ihr trautes Schwesterlein. Their beloved sister. Die Veilchen kichern und kosen, The violets giggle and cuddle, Und schaun nach den Sternen empor; And look at the stars above; Heimlich erzählen die Rosen Secretly the roses tell each other Sich duftende Märchen ins Ohr. Fragrant fairytales in the ear. Es hüpfen herbei und lauschen There leaping past and listening Die frommen, klugen Gazell’n; Are the gentle, wise gazelles, Und in der Ferne rauschen And in the distance murmur Des heiligen Stromes Well’n. The waves of the holy stream. Dort wollen wir niedersinken There, we will lie down Unter dem Palmenbaum, Under the palm tree, Und Liebe und Ruhe trinken, And savor love and peace, Und träumen seligen Traum. And dream a blissful dream. Gretchen am Spinnrade Gretchen at the Spinning Wheel Poetry by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe Meine Ruh’ ist hin, My peace is gone, Mein Herz ist schwer, My heart is heavy; Ich finde sie nimmer I shall never, Und nimmermehr. Ever find peace again. Wo ich ihn nicht hab’ When he’s not with me, Ist mir das Grab, Life’s like the grave; Die ganze Welt The whole world Ist mir vergällt. Is turned to gall. Mein armer Kopf My poor head Ist mir verrückt Is crazed, Mein armer Sinn My poor mind Ist mir zerstückt. Shattered. Meine Ruh’ ist hin, My peace is gone, Mein Herz ist schwer, My heart is heavy; Ich finde sie nimmer I shall never, Und nimmermehr. Ever find peace again. Nach ihm nur schau’ ich It’s only for him Zum Fenster hinaus, I gaze from the window, Nach ihm nur geh’ ich It’s only for him Aus dem Haus. I leave the house. Sein hoher Gang, His proud bearing, Sein’ edle Gestalt, His noble form, Seines Mundes Lächeln, The smile on his lips, Seiner Augen Gewalt. The power of his eyes, Und seiner Rede And the magic flow Zauberfluss. Of his words, Sein Händedruck, The touch of his hand, Und ach, sein Kuss! And ah, his kiss! Meine Ruh’ ist hin, My peace is gone, Mein Herz ist schwer, My heart is heavy; Ich finde sie nimmer I shall never, Und nimmermehr. Ever find peace again. Mein Busen drängt sich My bosom Nach ihm hin. Yearns for him. Ach dürft’ ich fassen Ah! if I could clasp Und halten ihn. And hold him, Und küssen ihn And kiss him So wie ich wollt’ To my heart’s content, An seinen Küssen And in his kisses Vergehen sollt’! Perish! Meine Ruh’ ist hin, My peace is gone, Mein Herz ist schwer… My heart is heavy… Wie melodien zieht es mir Like Melodies Poetry by Klaus Groth Wie Melodien zieht es Thoughts, like melodies, Mir leise durch den Sinn, Steal softly through my mind, Wie Frühlingsblumen blüht es Like spring flowers they blossom Und schwebt wie Duft dahin. And drift away like fragrance. Doch kommt das Wort und faßt es Yet when words come and capture them Und führt es vor das Aug’, And bring them before my eyes, Wie Nebelgrau erblaßt es They turn pale like grey mist Und schwindet wie ein Hauch. And vanish like a breath. Und dennoch ruht im Reime Yet surely in rhyme Verborgen wohl ein Duft, A fragrance lies hidden, Den mild aus stillem Keime Summoned by moist eyes Ein feuchtes Auge ruft. From the silent seed. “L'année en vain chasse l’année” Year After Year Passes in Vain from L’enfant prodigue Libretto by Édouard Guinand L'année en vain chasse l’année! Year after year passes in vain! A chaque saison ramenée, At each renewed season, Leurs jeux et leurs ébats Their games and their frolicking M’attristent malgré moi: Sadden me helplessly: Ils rouvrent ma blessure They reopen my wound Et mon chagrin s'accroît... And my sorrow grows... Je viens chercher la grève solitaire... I come looking for the solitary shore... Douleur involontaire! Unwitting pain! Efforts superflus! Useless efforts! Lia pleure toujours Lia still weeps over L'enfant qu'elle n'a plus!... The child she lost! Azaël! Azaël! Pourquoi m'as-tu quittée?… Azaël! Azaël! Why did you leave me? En mon coeur maternel In my maternal heart, Ton image est restée. Your likeness has remained. Azaël! Azaël! Pourquoi m'as-tu quittée?… Azaël! Azaël! Why did you leave me? Cependant les soirs étaient doux, Nevertheless, the evenings were sweet Dans la plaine d'ormes plantée, In the valley of elms, Quand, sous la charge récoltée, When the great red oxen were brought back On ramenait les grands boeufs roux. Under their harvested load. Lorsque la tâche était finie, When the labor was over, Enfants, vieillards et serviteurs, Children, old folks and servants, Ouvriers des champs ou pasteurs, Day laborers and pastors alike, Louaient, de Dieu la main bénie; Would praise the blessed hand of God; Ainsi les jours suivaient les jours Thus the days followed the days, Et dans la pieuse famille, And in the pious family, Le jeune homme et la jeune fille The young man and the young girl Echangeaient leurs chastes amours. Shared their chaste love. D'autres ne sentent pas Others don't feel Le poids de la vieillesse, - The weight of old age - Heureux dans leurs enfants, Happy through their children, Ils voient couler les ans, They see the years flow by, Sans regret comme sans tristesse... Without regret and without sadness... Aux coeurs inconsolés To inconsolable hearts Que les temps sont pesants!... How the times are heavy! Azaël! Pourquoi m'as-tu quittée?... Azaël! Why did you leave me? “Iolanta’s Arioso” Iolanta’s Arioso from Iolanta Libretto by Modest Tchaikovsky Atchyevo eta pryezhdye nye znala Why is it I previously never knew Nee taskee ya nee gorya nee slyoz? Sadness, grief, and tears? Ee fsye dnee pratyekalee bivala And all my days passed Sryedee zvukav nyebyesnix ee roz? Among heavenly sounds and roses? Chut’uslishu ya pteets shyebyetan’ye, When I heard the twittering of birds Chut’ tyep lo azhiveed dal’nee bor, Exciting the surroundings, Ee vyezdye zazvucheet leekavan’ye The celebration resounding everywhere, Ya fstupala ftarzhestvyenni xor! I joined this triumphant chorus! Atyepyer fsyo mnye dnyom navyevayet, But now in the looming day, Nyepanyatni glubokee upryok - I am getting some unclear deep reproach Ee ukori sud’bye pasilayet My fate is receiving a reproach Pteechyek xor ee shumyashee patok. From a chorus of the noisy flood of birds. Atchyevo eta nochee malchan’ye Why is it the silence of the night Ee praxlada mnye stalee meelyei? And cool air are more dear to me? Atchyevo ya kagbutta ridanya Why, as if weeping, Slishu tam gdye payot salavyei, Do I hear the singing of a nightingale, Atchevo? Skazhi, Marta. Why? Tell me, Marta. Nuit d’étoiles Night of Stars Poetry by Théodore de Banville Nuit d’étoiles, Night of stars, Sous tes voiles, Beneath your veils, Sous ta brise et tes parfums, beneath your breeze and fragrance, Triste lyre Sad lyre Qui soupire, That sighs, Je rêve aux amours défunts. I dream of bygone loves. La sereine mélancolie Serene melancholy Vient éclore au fond de mon cœur, Now blooms deep in my heart, Et j’entends l’âme de ma mie And I hear the soul of my love Tressaillir dans le bois rêveur. Quiver in the dreaming woods. Nuit d’étoiles, Night of stars, Sous tes voiles, Beneath your veils, Sous ta brise et tes parfums, beneath your breeze and fragrance, Triste lyre Sad lyre Qui soupire, That sighs, Je rêve aux amours défunts. I dream of bygone loves. Je revois à notre fontaine Once more at our fountain I see Tes regards bleus comme les cieux; Your eyes as blue as the sky; Cette rose, c’est ton haleine, This rose is your breath Et ces étoiles sont tes yeux. And these stars are your eyes. Nuit d’étoiles, Night of stars, Sous tes voiles, Beneath your veils, Sous ta brise et tes parfums, beneath your breeze and fragrance, Triste lyre Sad lyre Qui soupire, That sighs, Je rêve aux amours défunts. I dream of bygone loves. La mer est plus belle The Sea is More Lovely Poetry by Paul Verlaine La mer est plus belle The sea is more lovely Que les cathédrales, Than the cathedrals, Nourrice fidèle, A faithful nurse, Berceuse de râles, A lullaby of a death-rattle, La mer qui prie The sea over which La Vierge Marie ! The Virgin Mary prays! Elle a tous les dons It has all the qualities, Terribles et doux. Terrible and sweet. J'entends ses pardons I hear its pardons, Gronder ses courroux. Grumbling its ire. Cette immensité This immensity N'a rien d’entêté. Has no obstinacy. O! si patiente, Oh! So patient, Même quand méchante ! Even when dangerous! Un souffle ami hante A friendly breath haunts La vague, et nous chante : The wave, and sings to us: « Vous sans espérance, "You, without hope, Mourez sans souffrance ! » Perish without suffering!” Et puis sous les cieux And then, beneath the skies Qui s'y rient plus clairs, That mock it by being brighter, Elle a des airs bleus. It has the appearance of blue, Roses, gris et verts... Pink, grey, and green... Plus belle que tous, More lovely than everything, Meilleure que nous ! Better than we! “I have dreamt” from Wuthering Heights Libretto by Lucille Fletcher I have dreamt, in my life, dreams That have stayed with me forever, And have gone through and through me, Like wine through water, And have altered the color of my mind. I dreamt once that I was in heaven, And that heav’n did not seem To be my home. And I broke my heart with weeping To see the heath again. And the angels flung me back to earth And Wuthering Heights, Where I awoke Sobbing, sobbing - for joy! Do not go, my love Poetry by Rabindranath Tagore Do not go, my love, Without asking my leave. I have watched all night, And now my eyes are heavy with sleep; I fear lest I lose you When I am sleeping. Do not go, my love, Without asking my leave. I start up and stretch my hands To touch you. I ask myself, “Is it a dream?” Could I but entangle your feet With my heart, And hold them fast to my breast! Do not go, my love, Without asking my leave. “Carceleras” Jailers from Las hijas del Zebedeo Libretto by José Estremera Al pensar en el dueño When I think of the lord de mis amores, of my love, siento yo unos mareos I feel a charming encantadores. dizziness. Bendito sea Blessed be aquel picaronazo that rascal que me marea. who makes me feel so dizzy. A mi novio yo le quiero I love my beloved porque roba corazones because he steals hearts, con su gracia y su salero. with his grace and his charm. El me tiene muy ufana He makes me feel proud porque hay muchas que le quieren because a lot of girls love him y se quedan con las ganas. but they are left with their desire. Caprichosa yo nací, Capricious I was born, y le quiero solamente, and I want him all for myself, solamente para mí. Only for myself. Que quitarme a mí su amor To take away from me his love es lo mismo que quitarle is the same as ripping off las hojitas a una flor. the leaves of a flower. Yo me muero de gozo I die of pleasure cuando me mira, when he looks at me, y me vuelvo jalea and I lose my head cuando suspira. when he sighs. Si me echa flores When he throws flowers at me siento el corazoncito I feel my little heart morir de amores. die of love. Porque tiene unos ojillos For he has sweet eyes que me miran entornados, which look at me half-open muy gachones y muy pillos, very tenderly and very naughtily, y me dicen ¡ay! lucero, telling me "Oh my darling, que por esa personita for this little one me derrito yo y me muero. I will lose my soul and die.” Caprichosa yo nací, Capricious I was born, y le quiero solamente, and I want him all for myself solamente para mí. Only for myself. Que quitarme a mí su amor To take away from me his love es lo mismo que quitarle is the same as ripping off las hojitas a una flor! the leaves of a flower! THANK YOU SHIGEMI Words cannot express my gratitude for your guidance on my musical journey. I am convinced you are a miracle worker! Thank you for your vocal expertise and your generous spirit. I am so fortunate to be able to study with you. Thank you for helping me to bloom where I’m planted. :) MOM AND LUKE Thank you to my wonderful mother for being my rock throughout my life. I admire you for your compassion and work ethic. You have always supported me in pursuing my passions growing up, and music has been no exception! You are truly the wind beneath my wings. Thank you also to my brother Luke for helping me navigate the technical aspects of putting this recital together. I quite literally could not have done this without you! FRIENDS AND FAMILY Thank you to all those attending my virtual junior recital! I appreciate my family members who have always supported me. Thank you to old friends as well as the new friends I’ve been fortunate enough to meet at Bob Cole. I hope you enjoy the beautiful music that I have the honor of sharing. This recital is presented in partial fulfillment of the requirement for the BACHELOR OF MUSIC DEGREE with an option in OPERA KATIE ODELL is a student of SHIGEMI MATSUMOTO and has studied with Dr. Katharin Rundus, Dr. Kristin Chaudhary, and Donna Wicks