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CURTIS
INSTITUTE OF MUSIC
2009-10 STUDENT RECITAL SERIES
The Edith L. and Robert Prostkoff Memorial Concert Series
TWENTY-THIRD STUDENT RECITAL
Vocal Studies Department Recital
Sunday, December 13 at 3 p.m.
Field Concert Hall
“Ah perfido!” Op. 65
Ludwig van Beethoven
(1770–1827)
Kirsten MacKinnon, soprano
Mikael Eliasen, piano
Quatre Chansons de Ronsard, Op. 223
A une fontaine
A Cupidon
Tais-toi, babillarde!
Dieu vous gard’
Alize Rozsnyai, soprano
Darius Milhaud
(1892–1974)
“È il sol dell’anima”
from Rigoletto
Anna Davidson, soprano
Christopher Tiesi, tenor
Giuseppe Verdi
(1813–1901)
“Caro nome”
from Rigoletto
Verdi
Anna Davidson, soprano
“O del mio dolce ardor”
Christoph Willibald Gluck
from Paride ed Elena
(1714–87)
Jaguar Sasmito, baritone
Lisa Keller, piano
INTERMISSION
“Sgombra è la sacra selva”
from Norma
Shir Rozzen, mezzo-soprano
Vincenzo Bellini
(1801–35)
“O mio babbino caro”
Giacomo Puccini
from Gianni Schicchi
(1858–1924)
Meredith LaBouff, mezzo-soprano
“Vissi d’arte”
from Tosca
Puccini
Allison Sanders, soprano
“Ves’ tabor spit”
from Aleko
Sergei Rachmaninoff
(1873–1943)
Evan Boyer, bass
Lisa Keller, piano
“My Ship” from Lady in the Dark
lyrics by Ira Gershwin
Jaguar Sasmito, baritone
Kurt Weill
(1900–1950)
“Surabaya-Johnny” from Happy End
Elizabeth Reiter, soprano
“It Never Was You” from Knickerbocker Holiday
lyrics by Maxwell Anderson
Meredith LaBouff, mezzo-soprano
“I’m a Stranger Here Myself” from One Touch of Venus
lyrics by Ogden Nash
Elizabeth Reiter, soprano
“Lost in the Stars” from Lost in the Stars
lyrics by Anderson
Shir Rozzen, mezzo-soprano
“Youkali”: Tango Habanera
Elizabeth Reiter, soprano
“The Saga of Jenny” from Lady in the Dark
lyrics by I. Gershwin
Jaguar Sasmito, baritone
Cantata
John Carter
Prelude
(1929–91)
Rondo: Peter Go Ring dem Bells
Recitative: Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child
Air: Let Us Break Bread Together
Toccata: Ride On King Jesus
Allison Sanders, soprano
Mikael Eliasen, piano
Photographic and recording equipment may not be used in Field Concert Hall.
Recitals are professionally recorded for educational use and possible broadcast.
This program will be sent via live video transmission to external
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This recital will be available online for free streaming and download
on Monday, December 14. Visit www.instantencore.com/curtis
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Dec09VS
Follow the prompts to the downloads page for this program. Click
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Mikael Eliasen, piano
NEXT STUDENT RECITAL
Monday, December 14 at 8 p.m.
Field Concert Hall
Programs are subject to change. Call the Recital Hotline, (215) 893-5261,
for the most up-to-date information.
CURTIS
INSTITUTE OF MUSIC
2009–10 STUDENT RECITAL SERIES
TWENTY-THIRD STUDENT RECITAL
Vocal Studies Department Recital
Sunday, December 13 at 3 p.m.
Field Concert Hall
“Ah perfido!” Op. 65
Music by Ludwig van Beethoven ~ Text by Pietro Metastasio
Ah perfido, spergiuro,
Barbaro traditor, tu parti?
E son questi gl’ultimi tuoi congedi?
Ove s’intese tirannia più crudel?
Va, scellerato! Va, pur fuggi da me!
L’ira de’ numi non fuggirai.
Se v’è giustizia in ciel, se v’è pietà,
Congiureranno a gara tutti a punirti.
Ombra seguace, presente, ovunque vai.
Vedrò le mie vendetta.
Io già le godo immaginando.
I fulmini ti veggo già balenar d’intorno.
Ah no! Fermate, vindici Dei!
Risparmiate quel cor, ferite il mio!
S’ei non è più qual era, son io qual fui,
Per lui vivea, voglio morir per lui!
Ah, you treacherous, faithless,
Barbaric traitor, you leave?
And is this your last farewell?
Where did one hear of a crueler tyranny?
Go, despicable man! Go, flee from me!
You won’t flee from the wrath of the gods.
If there is justice in heaven, if there is pity,
All will join forces in a contest to punish you.
I follow your trail! I am wherever you go.
I will live to see my revenge.
I already take my delight in it in my imagination.
I see you surrounded by flashes of lightning.
Alas! Pause, avenging gods!
Spare that heart, wound mine!
If he is not what he was, I am still what I was.
For him I lived, for him I want to die!
Per pieta; non dirmi addio!
Di te priva che farò?
Tu lo sai, bell’idol mio,
Io d’affanno morirò!
Have mercy; don’t bid me farewell!
What shall I do without you?
You know it, my beloved idol,
I will die of grief!
Ah crudel! Tu vuoi ch’io mora!
Tu non hai pietà di me?
Perchè rendi a chi t’adora
Così barbara mercè?
Dite voi se in tanto affanno
Non son degna di pietà?
Ah, cruel man! You want me to die!
Don’t you have pity on me?
Why do you reward the one who adores you
In such a barbaric way?
Tell me, if in such a grief
I do not deserve pity?
Translation © 2007 by Bertram Kottmann from recmusic.org
Please wait for the conclusion of this selection before turning the page.
“O del mio dolce ardor” from Paride ed Elena
Music by Christoph Willibald Gluck ~ Text by Ranieri Calzabigi
O del mio dolce ardor bramato oggetto,
L’aura che tu respiri, alfin respiro.
O vunque il guardo io giro,
Le tue vaghe sembianze amore in me dipinge.
Il mio pensier si finge le più liete speranze,
E nel desio che così m’empie il petto,
Cerco te, chiamo te, spero e sospiro.
Oh, desired object of my sweet ardor,
The air which you breathe, at last I breathe.
Wherever I turn my glance
Your lovely features paint love for me.
My thoughts imagine the most happy hopes,
And in the longing which fills my bosom,
I seek you, I call you, I hope, and I sigh.
Translation © by Paul Hindemith from recmusic.org
“Sgombra è la sacra selva” from Norma
Music by Vincenzo Bellini ~ Text by Felice Romani, based on Alexandre Soumet’s play Norma
Sgombra è la sacra selva, compiuto il rito.
Sospirar non vista alfin poss’io,
Qui, dove a me s’offerse la prima
Volta quel fatal Romano.
Che mi rende rubella al tempio, al Dio.
Fosse l’ultima almen! Vano desio!
Irresistibil forza qui mi trascina.
E di quel caro aspetto il cor si pasce
E di sua cara voce l’aura che spira
Mi ripete il suono.
Cleared is the sacred forest, finished the rite.
To crave the sight, at last I can,
Here, where for the first time
The fatal Roman offered himself to me.
That makes me a traitor to the temple, to God.
If only it had been the last time! Vain desire!
Irresistible force drags me here.
And on that dear face the heart feeds itself
And of his dear voice the breeze that blows
To me repeats the sound.
Deh, proteggimi, o Dio!
Deh, proteggimi, proteggimi,
O Dio, proteggimi!
Perduta, perduta io son,
Gran Dio, abbi pietà,
Perduta, perduta io son.
Protect me, o God!
Protect me, protect me,
O God, protect me!
Lost I am,
Great God, have pity,
Lost, lost I am.
Translation by Sally Mouzon from recmusic.org
Please wait for the conclusion of this selection before turning the page.
“O mio babbino caro” from Gianni Schicchi
Music by Giacomo Puccini ~ Text by Giovacchino Forzano
My dear father,
I love him [Rinuccio, her lover]; he’s beautiful.
I want to go to Porta Rossa
And buy the ring!
Yes, yes, I want to go!
And if my love is in vain,
I would go upon Ponte Vecchio,
Only to jump in the Arno!
I long for him and torment myself!
O God, I’d like to die!
Father, have pity, have pity!
O mio babbino caro,
Mi piace è bello.
Vo’andare in Porta Rossa
A comperar l’anello!
Sì, sì, ci voglio andare!
E se l’amassi indarno,
Andrei sul Ponte Vecchio,
Ma per buttarmi in Arno!
Mi struggo e mi tormento!
O Dio, vorrei morir!
Babbo, pietà, pietà!
Translation by Giuseppe Cusmano ([email protected])
“Vissi d’arte” from Tosca
Music by Giacomo Puccini ~ Text by Giuseppe Giacosa and Luigi Illica
Vissi d’arte; vissi d’amore.
Non feci mai male ad anima viva.
Con man furtiva
Quante miserie conobbi, aiutai.
Sempre con fe sincera, la mia preghiera ai santi
tabernacoli sali.
Sempre con fe sincera, diedi fiori agli altar.
Nell’ora del dolore,
Perche, perche Signore
Perche me ne rimuneri cosi?
Diedi gioielli della Madonna al manto,
E diedi il canto agli astri,
Al ciel, che ne ridean piu belli.
Nell’ora del dolore perche,
Perche Signore, perche me ne rimuneri cosi?
I lived for art; I lived for love.
Never did I harm a living creature.
Whatever misfortunes I encountered
I sought with secret hand to succour.
Ever in pure faith, my prayers rose in holy chapels.
Ever in pure faith, I bought flowers to the altar.
In this hour of pain,
Why, Why oh Lord
Dost Thou repay me thus?
I brough jewels for the Madonna’s mantle
And songs for the stars in heaven
That shone forth with greater radiance.
In this hour of distress, why,
Why, oh Lord, why dost Thou repay me thus?
Translation by Jamshed Variava from aria-database.com
Please wait for the conclusion of this selection before turning the page.
“Ves’ tabor spit” from Aleko
Music by Sergei Rachmaninoff ~ Text by V. I. Nemirovich Danchenko
Ves’ tabor spit.
Luna nad nim polnochnoy krasotoyu bleshchet.
Chto zh serdce bednoe trepeshchet?
Kakoyu grust’yu ya tomim?
Ya bez zabot, bez sozhalen’ya vedu kochuyushchie dni.
Prezrev okovy prosveshchen’ya, ya volen tak zhe, kak
oni!
Ya zhil, ne priznavaya vlasti sud’by kovarnoy I slepoy.
No, bozhe, kak igrayut strasti moey poslushnoyu dushoy!
Zemfira! Kak ona lyubila!
The whole camp is sleeping.
The moon above it with midnight splendor shines.
Why then is my poor heart trembling?
With what sadness am I tormented?
Without cares or regrets I lead my days in wandering.
Having rejected the chains of civilization, I am as free as
they are!
I lived despising the power of cruel and blind fate.
But, God, how the passions play with my susceptible soul!
Zemfira! How she loved me!
Kak, nezhno priklonyas’ ko mne, v pustynoy tishine
chasy nochnye provodila!
Kak chasto milym lepetan’em, upoitel’nym lobzan’em
zadumchivost’ moyu v minute razognat’ umela!
Ya pomnyu, s negoy, polnoy strasti, sheptala mne ona
todga: “Lyublyu tebja! V tvoey ya vlasti! Tvoya,
Aleko, navsegda!”
I vsë togda ya zabyval, kogda recham eyë vnimal i, kak
bezumnyy, celoval eyë charuyushchie ochi, kos
chudnih pryad’, temnee nochi, usta Zemfiry.
A ona, vsya negoy, strastyu polna, pril’nuv ko mne, v
glaza glyadela …
I chto zh? Zemfira ne verna!
Moya Zemfira ohladela!
How, in the silence of the wilderness, leaning toward me
tenderly, she spent the night hours!
How often with a gentle whisper or an intoxicating kiss,
she could dissipate my sadness!
I recall how, with tenderness and passion, she would
whisper to me: “I love you! I am in your power! I am
yours, Aleko, forever!”
When I listened to her words, I would forget everything
and madly kiss her intoxicating eyes, the strands of
her wonderful hair, darker than night, Zemfira’s lips.
And she, full of tenderness and passion, would lean
toward me and look into my eyes …
And now? Zemfira is unfaithful!
My Zemfira has grown cold to me!
Translation © 2004 by Leyerle Publications
Quatre Chansons de Ronsard, Op. 223
Music by Darius Milhaud ~ Text by Pierre de Ronsard
“A une fontaine” (“To a fountain”)
Écoute moi, fontaine vive,
En qui j’ai rebu si souvent,
Couché tout plat dessus ta rive,
Oisif à la fraîcheur du vent,
Quand l’été ménager moissonne
Le sein de Cérès dévêtu,
Et l’air par compas résonne
Gémissant sous le blé battu.
Ainsi toujours puisses-tu être
En religion à tous ceux
Qui te boiront ou fairont paître
Tes verts rivages à leurs boeufs.
Ainsi toujours la lune claire
Voie à minuit au fond d’un val
Les Nymphes près de ton repaire
À mille bonds mener le bal!
Listen to me, living fountain,
From whom I oft have drunk,
Flat on my belly overlooking your bank,
Lazy in the cool breeze
While the summer harvests,
Ceres’s unclad breast
And the air whimpers
Beneath the beaten wheat.
So may you always be
In religion to all those
Who drink from you or who pasture
Their cattle on your green banks.
So may nymphs
Forever dance
Around you
In the moonlit midnights.
Please wait for the conclusion of this selection before turning the page.
“A Cupidon” (“To Cupid”)
Le jour pousse la nuit et la nuit sombre
Pousse le jour qui luit d’une obscure ombre.
L’Automne suit l’Été et l’âpre rage
Des vents n’a point été après l’orage.
Mais la fièvre d’amours qui me tourmente
Demeure en moi toujours et ne s’alente.
Ce n’était pas moi, Dieu, qu’il fallait poindre;
Ta flèche en d’autre lieu se devait joindre.
Poursuis les paresseux et les amuse,
Mais non pas moi, ni ceux qu’aime la Muse.
Day pushes night and dark night
Pushes gleaming day with dark shades.
Autumn follows summer, and the winds
No longer rage after the storm.
But the love fever that torments me
Burns in me forever unabated.
You should not have aimed at me, God;
Your arrow should have had another target.
Go after the lazy and amuse them,
But not me or those who love the Muse.
“Tais-toi, babillarde!” (“Quiet, chattering swallow!”)
Tais-toi, babillarde arondelle!
Ou bien, je plumeray ton aile,
Si je t’empongne, ou d’un couteau
Je te couperay la languette,
Qui matin sans repos caquette
Et m’estourdit tout le cerveau.
Quiet, chattering swallow!
If I get my hands on you,
I’ll tear the feathers from your wing
Or cut out your tongue.
In the morning, your endless cackling
Makes my head turn.
Je te preste ma cheminée,
Pour chanter toute la journée,
De soir, de nuict, quand tu voudras.
Mais au matin ne me reveille,
Et ne m’oste quand je sommeille
Ma Cassandre d’entre mes bras.
You can sing all day,
All evening, and all night
In my chimney if you want,
But in the morning don’t wake me up
When I’m dozing
With my Cassandra in my arms.
Please wait for the conclusion of this selection before turning the page.
“Dieu vous gard’ ” (“God be with you”)
Dieu vous gard’, messagers fidèles
Du Printemps, gentes hirondelles,
Huppes, coucous, rossignolets,
Tourtres, et vous oiseaux sauvages
Qui de cent sortes de ramages
Animez les bois verdelets.
God be with you, faithful messengers
Of Spring, swallows,
Hoopoes, cuckoos, little nightingales,
Turtledoves, and wild birds
Who make the greenwood
Lively with a hundred sorts of warbles.
Dieu vous gard’, belles pâquerettes,
Belles roses, belles fleurettes,
Et vous boutons jadis connus
Du sang d’Ajax et de Narcisse,
Et vous thym, anis et mélisse.
Vous soyez les bien revenus.
God be with you, lovely daisies,
Beautiful roses, pretty little flowers,
And you buds, once known
As the blood of Ajax and Narcissus,
And you thyme, anise, wild cherry.
Welcome back.
Dieu vous gard’, troupe diaprée
Des papillons, qui par la prée
Les douces herbes suçotez;
Et vous, nouvel essaim d’abeilles,
Qui les fleurs jaunes et vermeilles
De votre bouche baisotez.
God be with you, multicolored troop
Of butterflies sucking
The sweet grasses of the field,
And you, new swarm of bees
Kissing the yellow
And red flowers.
Cent mille fois je resalue
Votre belle et douce venue.
Ô que j’aime cette saison
Et ce doux caquet des rivages,
Au prix des vents et des orages
Qui m’enfermaient en la maison!
A hundred thousand times I salute
Your sweet return.
Oh, how I love this season
And the sweet cackling on the banks
After the winds and storms
That have kept me shut in the house!
Translation © 2002 by Faith J. Cormier from recmusic.org
Please wait for the conclusion of this selection before turning the page.
“È il sol dell’anima” from Rigoletto
Music by Giuseppe Verdi ~ Text by Francesco Maria Piave
DUCA
DUKE
È il sol dell’anima, la vita è amore,
Sua voce è il palpito del nostro core.
E fama e gloria, potenza e trono,
Umane, fragili qui cose sono.
Una pur avvene sola, divina è amor
Che agli angeli più ne avvicina!
Adunque amiamoci, donna celeste,
D’invidia agli uomini sarò per te.
It is the sun of the soul, life is love,
Its voice is the beating of our hearts.
Fame and glory, power and throne,
Those human, fragile things are here.
Although it happens, a single, divine love
Which brings you closer to the angels!
Therefore let us love, heavenly woman.
I envy the men who are meant for you.
GILDA
GILDA
Ah de’ miei vergini sogni son queste le voci tenere
sì care a me!
Ah, my virgin dreams are made of these things
so take care of me!
DUCA
DUKE
Che m’ami, deh, ripetimi!
You love me, repeat it!
GILDA
GILDA
L’udiste.
My father.
DUCA
DUKE
Oh, me felice!
O, my happiness!
GILDA
GILDA
Il nome vostro ditemi. Saperlo non mi lice?
Tell me your name.
DUCA
DUKE
Mi nomino Gualtier Maldè. Studente sono e povero!
My name is Gualtier Maldè. I am a student and poor!
GILDA
GILDA
Forse mio padre …
Perhaps my father …
DUCA
DUKE
(Ah, cogliere potessi il traditore; che sì mi sturba!)
(Ah, if I could only seize the traitor, how it instigates me!)
GILDA (a Giovanna)
GILDA
Adducilo. Di qua al bastione … or ite …
This way to escape.
DUCA
DUKE
Di’, m’amerai tu?
Say you love me?
GILDA
GILDA
E voi?
And you?
DUCA
DUKE
L’intera vita poi
For my whole life
GILDA
GILDA
Non più, non più, partite.
Then no more, no more, leave.
TUTT’E DUE
BOTH
Addio, speranza ed anima!
Sol tu sarai per me.
Addio, vivrà immutabile
L’affetto mio per te.
Addio!
Goodbye, my soul and life!
It is you, alone, who is for me.
Goodbye, I will live without changing
My affection for you.
Goodbye!
Translation by Christopher Tiesi
Please wait for the conclusion of this selection before turning the page.
“Caro nome” from Rigoletto
Music by Giuseppe Verdi ~ Text by Francesco Maria Piave
Gualtier Maldè, nome di lui sì amato,
Scolpisciti nel core innamorato!
Caro nome che il mio cor
Festi primo palpitar,
Le delizie dell’ amor mi dêi sempre rammentar!
Col pensiero il mio desir a te ognora volerà,
E pur l’ultimo sospir, caro nome, tuo sarà.
Gualtier Maldè, name of my beloved,
Brand this loving heart!
Sweet name, you who made my heart
Throb for the first time,
You must always remind me the pleasures of love!
My desire will fly to you on the wings of thought
And my last breath will be yours, my beloved.
Translation by Guia K. Monti from aria-database.com
Please wait for the conclusion of this selection before turning the page.
“Surabaya-Johnny” from Happy End
Music by Kurt Weill ~ Text by Bertolt Brecht
Ich war jung Gott, erst sechzehn Jahre.
Du kamest von Burma herauf.
Du sagtest, ich solle mit dir gehen, du kämest für alles auf.
Ich fragte nach deiner Stellung. Du sagtest so wahr ich
hier steh’?
Du hätest zu tun mit der Eisenbahn und nichts zu tun
mit der See.
Du sagtest viel, Johnny. Kein Wort war wahr, Johnny.
Du hast mich betrogen, Johnny zur ersten Stund!
Ich hasse dich so, Johnny, wie du da stehst und grinst,
Johnny.
Nimm doch die Pfeife aus dem Maul, du Hund!
I was young, I was just sixteen then,
When you came up from Burma one day.
You told me to come travel with you.
I asked, “Do you work nice and steady,
or do you go sailing and roving out to sea?”
And you said, “I have a job on the railroad, nothing to do
with the sea, and baby, how swell it’s all gonna be.”
You said a lot, Johnny. It was all lies.
You sure had me fooled, right from the start.
I hate you when you laugh at me like that.
Surabaya-Johnny, warum bist du so roh?
Surabaya-Johnny, mein Gott und ich liebe dich so!
Surabaya-Johnny, warum bin ich nicht froh?
Du hast kein Herz, Johnny, und ich liebe dich so!
Surabaya-Johnny, is it really the end?
Surabaya-Johnny, my God, I love you so!
Surabaya-Johnny, oh, why won’t I mend?
You got no heart, Johnny, but oh, I love you so!
Zuerst war es immer Sonntag.
Das war, bis ich mitging mit dir.
Aber dann, schon nach zwei Wochen,
War dir nichts mehr recht an mir.
Hinauf und hinab durch den Pandschab,
Den Fluß entlang bis zur See.
Ich sehe schon aus im Spiegel,
Wie eine Vierzigjährige.
Du wolltest nicht Liebe, Johnny, du wolltest Geld,
Johnny, ich aber sah, Johnny nur auf deinen Mund.
Du verlangtest alles, Johnny. Ich gab dir mehr, Johnny.
Nimm doch die Pfeife aus dem Maul, du Hund!
Thought at first you were kind and gentle,
’Til I packed up and went off with you.
And it lasted two weeks until one day
You laughed at me and hit me too.
You dragged me all over the city,
Up the river and down to the sea.
Now I look at myself in the mirror,
And some old woman looks back at me.
You didn’t want love, Johnny; you wanted money.
Ich habe es nicht beachtet warum du den Namen hast.
Doch an der ganzen langen Küste warst du ein
bekannter Gast.
Eines Morgens in einem Six-Pence-Bett, werd’ich
donnern hören die See;
Und du gehst, ohne etwas zu sagen, und ein Schiff liegt
unten am Kai.
I forgot to ask you why they called you that funny name,
But in every hotel, I found out, yet loved you all the
same.
One day in a two-bit flop-house, I’ll wake up to the roar
of the sea,
And you’ll leave without one word of warning, on the
ship waiting down at the key.
Du hast kein Herz, Johnny. Du bist ein Schuft, Johnny.
Du gehst jetzt weg, Johnny, sag mir den Grund!
Ich liebe dich doch, Johnny, wie am ersten Tag, Johnny.
Nimm doch die Pfeife aus dem Maul, du Hund!
You got no heart, Johnny. You’re just no good.
You going now? Oh, tell me why.
I love you after all, Johnny, like that very first day.
Take that pipe out of your mouth, Johnny!
Take that pipe out of your mouth, Johnny!
I gave you all I had, Johnny. You wanted more.
Take that pipe out of your mouth, Johnny!
Translation adapted from www.lyricstime.com and Michael Feingold
Please wait for the conclusion of this selection before turning the page.
“Youkali”: Tango habanera
Music by Weill ~ Text by Roger Fernay
C’est presque au bout du monde,
Ma barque vagabonde,
Errant au gré de l’onde,
M’y conduisit un jour.
Near the end of the world,
My vagabond ship,
Wandering at the whim of the waves,
Directed me there one day,
L’île est toute petite,
Mais la fée qui l’habite
Gentiment nous invite À en faire le tour …
This island is very small,
But the fairy who lives there
Gently invited us to take a tour …
Youkali, c’est le pays de nos désirs,
Youkali, c’est le bonheur, c’est le plaisir,
Youkali, c’est la terre où l’on quitte tous les soucis,
C’est dans notre nuit,
Comme une éclaircie,
L’étoile qu’on suit,
C’est Youkali!
Youkali, it is the land of our desires,
Youkali, it is happiness, it is pleasure,
Youkali, it is the land where one leaves all cares,
It is in our night,
Like a bright light,
A star which one follows,
It is Youkali!
Youkali, c’est le respect de tous les voeux échangés,
Youkali, c’est le pays des beaux amours partagés,
C’est l’espérance
Qui est au coeur de tous les humains,
La délivrance que nous attendons tous pour demain,
Youkali, it is the respect of exchanged vows.
Youkali, it is the land of beautiful lovers.
It is the hope
Which is at the heart of all humans,
The deliverance we want for tomorrow.
Youkali, c’est le pays de nos désirs,
Youkali, c’est le bonheur, c’est le plaisir,
Mais c’est un rêve, une folie,
Il n’y a pas de Youkali!
Youkali, it is the land of our desires,
Youkali, it is happiness, it is pleasure,
But it is a dream, a folly.
There is no Youkali.
Et la vie nous entraîne, la sente quotidienne,
Mais la pauvre âme humaine,
Cherchant partout l’oubli,
A pour quitter la terre,
Su trouver le mystère,
Où nos rêves se terrent
En quelque Youkali.
And life goes on, weariness every day.
But the poor human soul,
Looks everywhere to forget it,
To leave the earth,
To find the mystery.
We dream on earth
To live on some Youkali.
Translation by A. Reaux
Please wait for the conclusion of this selection before turning the page.
PERFORMERS
Evan Boyer, from Louisville, Ky., is a student of Marlena Kleinman Malas and entered Curtis in 2007.
Anna Davidson, from Los Angeles, is a student of Marlena Kleinman Malas and entered Curtis in 2009.
Meredith LaBouff, from Tenafly, N.J., is a student of Marlena Kleinman Malas and entered Curtis in 2009.
Kirsten MacKinnon, from Burnaby, British Columbia, is a student of Patricia McCaffrey, adjunct faculty, and
entered Curtis in 2008.
Elizabeth Reiter, from Chicago, is a student of Marlena Kleinman Malas and entered Curtis in 2008.
Alize Rozsnyai, from San Diego, is a student of W. Stephen Smith, adjunct faculty, and entered Curtis in 2009.
Shir Rozzen, from Karmey-Yosef, Israel, is a student of Lorraine Nubar, adjunct faculty, and entered Curtis in
2008.
Allison Sanders (Voice ’09), from Memphis, is a student of Marlena Kleinman Malas and entered Curtis in
2005.
Jaguar Sasmito, from Sacramento, Calif., is a student of Barbara Honn, adjunct faculty, and entered Curtis in
2009.
Christopher Tiesi, from Sarasota, Fla., is a student of Marlena Kleinman Malas and entered Curtis in 2009.
Mikael Eliasen, the Hirsig Family Head-of-Department Chair in Vocal Studies and artistic director of the
Curtis Opera Theatre
Lisa Keller, opera and voice coach