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Concert & Recital Programs
School of Music
12-3-2011
Senior Recital: Fanny Lora, soprano
Fanny Lora
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Lora, Fanny, "Senior Recital: Fanny Lora, soprano" (2011). Concert & Recital Programs. Paper 340.
http://digitalcommons.ithaca.edu/music_programs/340
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Senior Recital:
Fanny Lora, soprano
"Love, Death & Storytelling"
Blaise Bryski, piano
Andrew Thomson, percussion
Damien Scalise, guitar
Ford Hall
Saturday, December 3, 2011
3:00 p.m.
Love, Death & Storytelling
Oh Had I Jubal’s Lyre
from Joshua
G. Friedrich Handel
(1685-1759)
Sull'Onda Cheta e Bruna
La Gondola
Amiamo
Gaetano Donizetti
(1797-1848)
Auf Flügeln des Gesanges
Neue Liebe
Lieblingsplätzchen
Hexenlied
Felix Mendelssohn
(1809-1847)
Fiancailles Pour Rire
La Dame d'Andre
Dans l'herbe
Il Vole
Mon Cadavre est Doux Come un Gant
Violon
Fleurs
Alma Llanera
El Día que Me Quieras
Sabor a Mi
Granada
Francis Poulenc
(1899-1963)
Pedro Elías Gutiérrez
(1870-1954)
Carlos Gardel
(1890-1935)
Álvaro Carrillo
(1921-1969)
Agustín Lara
(1897-1970)
This Senior Recital is in partial fulfillment of the degree Music Performance
and Music Education. Fanny Lora is from the studio of Jennifer Kay.
Program Notes
The title “Love, Death and Storytelling” occurred to me as I reviewed my
repertoire order, only to find that the common themes that unite the program
are themes that one encounters in our everyday lives. That discovery has
sparked in me a desire to explore these pieces with an awareness of their
themes of love, death, and storytelling throughout the program.
Oh Had I Jubal’s Lyre is an oratorio from Handel’s Joshua, sung by Achsa the
daughter of Caleb. Caleb had offered Achsah’s hand in marriage to a soldier
who was willing to conquer the land of Quiriat-sefer. That soldier was
Othoniel. Once Othoniel conquers, Achsah breaks in song for his victory
thanking God for bringing her love (Othoniel) safely to her arms.
Oh! Had I Jubal's Lyre
Oh, had I Jubal's lyre,
Or Miriam's tuneful voice!
To sounds like his I would aspire,
In songs like hers rejoice.
My humble strains but faintly show,
How much to Heav'n and thee I owe.
Sull’ Onda Cheta e Bruna, La Gondola, and Amiamo are three of the twenty
rediscovered songs by Donizetti. In these three songs I will explore love’s
longing (the lover awaits to see Leonora in Sull’ Onda); daring (the lover
invites his loved one to a boating adventure in La gondola); and finally love as
an invitation (the lover invites everyone to love in Amiamo).
Sull’ Onda Cheta e Bruna
On the quiet and dark waters
Sull'onda cheta e bruna,
Pria che sorga la luna,
Veloce, o gondolier,
Deh, solca il tuo sentier,
Ma veh che la tua prora,
Carezzi lieve il mar.
A solo sol Leonora,
Che canta ansiosa
ogn'ora,
Oda del cor tra'l palpitar
Del fido amante il remigar.
On the quiet and dark waters
Before the rising of the moon,
Quickly oh gondolier,
Ah, make your way,
But take care that your prow,
Caresses lightly the sea.
That only Leonora, who is alone,
And sings anxiously
at this hour,
May hear the heart of
her faithful lover.
La Gondola
The Gondola
Meco in barchetta celere
Scendi, leggiadra Clori.
Vieni, cerchiamo ai zeffiri
Conforto degli ardori
che riscaldano il di.
Vieni, gia l’onda tremola e
Specchio della luna,
E come l'aure baciano
La placida laguna
Te bacieran così.
Vieni, e il tuo crin nerissimo
In preda all'aure ondeggi,
E del mio core il palpito
Coll'ondeggiar pareggi,
Se pareggiar si può.
Vedrai nel cielo limpido
Brillar lucenti stelle,
a cui due luci fulgide
Iddio creò sorelle,
e il tuo bel viso ornò.
Scendi, vezzosa Cloride,
E me vedrai beato,
E in estasi soavissima
Di te seduto a lato
Mi pascerò d'amor.
E la tua destra candida
Al petto mollemente
Fa che mi possa premere,
E il palpito frequente
Intenda del mio cor.
With me in to the little boat
quickly descend, graceful Cloris.
Come, let us seek from the zyphyrs
comfort from the heat
That warms the day.
Come, already the shimmering
waters mirror the moon.
And just as the breezes kiss
The peaceful lagoon
They will also kiss you.
Come, and let your black hair
Engulfed by the breezes, wave,
And let the beating of my heart
be equal to that waving if it
can indeed be equaled.
You will see in the clear sky
Glowing stars shinning,
As sisters to stars
God made two sparkling lights,
to adorn your beautiful face.
Descend, charming Cloris,
And me you will see blessed,
And in an ecstasy very tender
With you seated at my side
I shall nourish myself with love.
And your white right hand
softly to my breast
Allow me to press,
So you may feel the rapid
beating of my heart.
Amiamo
Let's Love
Or che l'età ne invita,
Cerchiamo di goder.
L'istante del piacer passa,
passa e non torna.
Grave divien la vita
Se non si coglie il fior;
Di fresche rose
amor solo l'adorna.
Più bella sei,
più devi
Ad amor voti e fé;
Now that our age invite us,
Let us seek out pleasure.
The moment of pleasure
passes and does not return.
Life becomes serious
If one does not gather flowers;
Love adorns life
only with fresh roses.
The more beautiful you are,
the more you owe
to love’s vows and fidelity;
Altra beltà non è
che un suo tributo.
Amiam ché i
dì son brevi;
È un giorno senza amore
Un giorno di dolor, giorno perduto.
Another beauty is nothing
but that which it is due.
Let us love, because
the days are brief.
A day without love
is a day of sadness,a lost day.
Both Auf Flügeln des Gesanges and Lieblingsplächen fit within the love theme.
The first piece is a poem by Heinrich Heine, in which he illustrates the lover’s
necessity to dream and love’s ability to take us beyond our own desires.
Lieblingsplächen depicts a story of love with a message that people have heard
of and lived for centuries “it is better to have a broken heart from the kiss of a
lover, than to die without knowing what love is.”
Neue Liebe and Hexenlied provide a balance to the set by depicting fantastic
stories. Neue Liebe is about an intriguing encounter with elves riding by in the
forest, swiftly surrounding you with their white horses that look like swans.
Hexenlied tells the diabolical story of witches celebrating the arrival of spring
in the Brocken peak (Harts Mountains in Germany), where creatures gather to
worship Beezelbup (Lord of the Flies or Prince of Demons).
Auf Flügeln des Gesanges
On wings of song
Auf Flügeln des Gesanges,
herzliebchen, trag ich dich fort,
fort nach den Fluren des Ganges,
dort weiß ich den schönsten Ort.
Dort liegt ein rotblühender Garten
im stillen Mondenschein,
Die Lotosblumen erwarten
Ihr trautes Schwesterlein.
Die Veilchen kichern und kosen,
und schaun nach
den Sternen empor,
Heimlich erzählen die Rosen
sich duftende Märchen ins Ohr.
Es hüpfen herbei und lauschen
Die frommen, klugen Gazelln,
Und in der Ferne rauschen
Des heiligen Stromes Well'n.
Dort wollen wir niedersinken
Unter dem Palmenbaum,
Und Liebe und Ruhe trinken,
Und träumen seligen Traum.
On wings of song, my darling,
I'll carry you away,
To beautiful fields of the Ganges,
where softest grasses sway.
Its red flower garden now blossoms
in moonlight's silver glow;
The lotus-flowers await you,
sisters' loving to know.
The violets murmur
in laughter
gazing at stars above;
The roses' secrets are whispered
in fragrant tales of love.
With wistful glances are peering,
the radiant, slender gazelles;
the holy stream is flowing
in distant waves and swells.
And there we will sink in pleasure
under the palm tree's shade;
and dream in peace,
Our joy will never fade.
Neue Liebe
New Love
Im dem Mondenscheine
Im walde sah ich jüngst
die Elfen reiten;
Ihre Hörner hört ich klingen,
Ihre Glöckchen hört ich läuten.
Ihre weissen Rösslein trugen
Goldnes Hirschgeweih und flogen
Rasch dahin, wie wilde Schwäne
Kam es durch die Luft gezogen.
Lächelnd nickte mir die Köngin,
Lächelnd, im Vorüberreuten.
Galt das meiner neuen Liebe,
Oder soll es Tod bedeuten?
In the moonlit forest
I watched the
elves a-riding,
I heard their horns sound
I heard their bells ring.
Their white horses, with
golden antlers, flew on
swiftly, like white swans
Travelling through the air.
Smiling the queen nodded at me
smiling as she rode overhead;
was it because of my new love?
Or does it mean death?
Lieblingsplätzchen
Favorite Little Place
Wißt ihr, wo ich
gerne weil'
In der Abendkühle?
In dem stillen Tale geht
Eine kleine Mühle,
Und ein kleiner Bach dabei,
Ringsumher stehn Bäume.
Oft sitz ich da stunderlang,
Schau umher und träume.
Auch die Blümlein in dem Grün
An zu sprechen fangen,
Und das blaue Blümlein sagt:
Sieh mein Köpfchen hangen!
Röslein mit dem Dornenkuß
Hat mich so gestochen:
Ach! das macht mich gar betrübt,
Hat mein Herz gebrochen.
Da naht sich ein Spinnlein weiß,
Spricht: Sei doch zufrieden;
Einmal mußt du doch vergehn,
So ist es hienieden;
Beßer, daß das Herz dir bricht
Von dem Kuß der Rose,
Als du kennst die Liebe nicht
Und stirbst liebelose.
Do you know where I
happily spend my time
in the cool of the evening?
In the peaceful valley turns
a small mill,
And also a small brook flows by,
all about stand trees.
I often sit there for hours,
Gazing about and dreaming.
Also the little flowers
in the green grass begin to speak.
And the blue little-flowers says:
Look at my little head hanging!
The little rose with the
thorny kiss has stabbed me so.
Ah! That makes me very sad,
it has my heart broken.
A little white spider
draws near and says: be contented;
Someday you must surely die,
That is the way of things
it is better that your heart breaks
from the kiss of the rose,
Than to never know love
And die without it.
Hexenlied
Witch Song
Die Schwalbe fliegt,
der Frühling siegt,
und spendet uns
Blumen zum Kranze!
Bald huschen wir
leis' aus der Tür,
Und fliegen zum
prächtigen Tanze!
Ein schwarzer Bock,
Ein Besenstock,
die Ofengabel,
der Wocken,
reißt uns geschwind,
wie Blitz und Wind,
durch sausende Lüfte
zum Brocken!
Um Beelzebub
tanzt unser Trupp
Und küßt ihm
die kralligen Hände!
Ein Geisterschwarm
faßt uns beim Arm
und schwinget im
Tanzen die Brände!
Ein Feuerdrach'
umflieget das Dach,
Und bringet uns
Butter und Eier.
Die Nachbarn seh'n
die Funken weh'n,
Und schlagen ein
Kreuz vor dem Feuer.
Die Schwalbe fliegt,
der Frühling siegt,
die Blumen erblühen
zum kranze.
Bald huschen wir
leis' aus der Tür,
juchheisa zum
prächtigen tanze.
The swallow soars,
the spring outpours
Her flowers for
garlands entrancing;
Soon shall we glide
away and ride,
Hey-day, to the
spirited dancing!
A buck that's black,
a broomstick o' back,
the prangs of a poker
will pitch us;
we'll ride a steed
with light'ning speed
direct to the mountain
of witches!
The dancing bands
all kiss the hands
like claws that
belong to the devil,
while other swarms
have grabbed our arms
And brandish their
torches in revel!
A dragon flies now
down from the skies
With presents of
food for the table.
The neighbors sight
the sparks in flight
And cross themselves
as fast as they're able.
The swallow soars,
the spring outpours
Her flowers for
garlands entrancing;
Soon shall we glide
away and ride,
Hey-day, to the
spirited dancing!
Fiancailles Pour Rire (Engagement for Laughs)is Poulenc’s set of six poems,
written by Louise de Vilmorin. Poulenc expressed that he found in Vilmorin’s
writing “a sort of sensitive impertinence, libertinage, and an appetite which,
carried onto song [is] what I tried to express in my extreme youth with Marie
Laurencin in Les Biches.” (Ivry 1996)
La Dame d’Andre illustrates the storytelling theme. The story is told as though
the end is already understood at the beginning of the piece. Its chromaticism
and frequent chord changes give a sense of instability, which makes this story
more haunting, and leaves the listener with a sense of emptiness and wonder.
La Dame d’André
Andre’s Lady
André ne connait pas
la dame qu’il prend
au jourd’hui par la main.
A-t-elle un cœur
à len de mains
et pour le soir
a-t-elle une âme?
Au retour d’un
bal campagnard
S’en allait-elle
en robe vague
Chercher dans les meules
la bague des
fiançailles du hasard?
A-t-elle eu peur,
la nuit venue,
guettée par
les ombres d’hier,
dans son jardin
lorsque l’hiver
entrait par la grande avenue?
Il l’a aimée pour sa couleur
Pour sa bonne humeur de Dimanche.
Pâlira-t-elle aux
feuilles blanches
De son album
des temps meilleurs?
Andre does not know
the lady who he takes
by the hand today.
She has a heart
to take hold of hands
and for the evening
has she a soul?
At the return
of a rustic ball
She went from there
in vague dress
seek in the grindstone
for the ring the
engagements of chance?
She was afraid,
that come night,
watching through
the shadows of yesterday,
In his garden
when the winter
enters through the large avenue?
He loved her for her color
For her good mood on Sunday.
Will it fade
to paper white,
From his album
of better times?
In Il Vole, Vilmorin’s poem and Poulenc’s music combine to capture the
insanity of unrequited love. The words and the music give a sense of the
character’s uneasiness and inability to do quotidian activities due to love’s
spell.
Il Vole
He Flies
En allant se coucher le soleil
Se reflète au vernis
de ma table:
C’est le fromage
rond de la fable
Au bec de mes ciseaux
de vermeil.
– Mais où est le corbeau?
– Il vole.
Je voudrais coudre mais un aimant
Attire à lui toutes mes aiguilles.
Sur la place
les joueurs de quilles
De belle en belle
passent le temps.
– Mais où est mon amant?
– Il vole.
C’est un voleur que
j’ai pour amant,
Le corbeau vole
et mon amant vole,
Voleur de cœur
manque à sa parole
Et voleur de
fromage est absent.
– Mais où est le bonheur?
– Il vole.
The sun as it sets
Is reflected in
my polished table:
It is the round
cheese of the fable
In the beak of my
silver scissors.
But where’s the crow?
Stealing away.
I’d like to sew but a magnet
Attracts all my needles.
In the square
the skittle players
Pass the time
playing game after game.
But where’s my lover?
Stealing away.
I’ve a stealer
for lover,
The crow steals away
and my lover steals,
the stealer of my heart
breaks his word
and the stealer
of cheese is absent.
But where is happiness?
Stealing away.
Mon Cadavre est Doux Comme un Gant illustrates the theme of death. The
piece exhibits an old dying woman’s realization that death is approaching, and
she feels closer to death than to life. She is resigned to accept this but
understands it is time for other generations to live on.
Mon Cadavre est Doux Comme...
My Corpse is as Soft as a Glove
Mon cadavre est
doux comme un gant,
doux comme un gant
de peau glacée
et mes prunelles effaces
font de mes yeux
des cailloux blancs.
Deux cailloux blancs
dans mon visage,
dans le silence deux muets
ombrés encore d’un secret
et lourds du poids
mort des images.
Mes doigts tant
de fois égarés
Sont joints en
attitude sainte
Appuyés au creux
de mes plaints au nœud
de mon cœur arrêté.
Et mes deux pieds
sont les montagnes,
les deux derniers monts
que j’ai vus a la minute
où j’ai perdu la course
que les années gagnent.
Mon souvenir est ressemblant
enfants emportez-le bien vite,
allez, allez,
ma vie est dite.
Mon cadavre est
doux comme un gant.
My corpse is
as soft as a glove,
soft as a glove
of frozen skin
and my hidden pupils
make two white
pebbles of my eyes.
Two white pebbles
in my face
Two mutes in the silence
still darkened by a secret
laden with the dead weight
of what they’ve seen.
My fingers that
roved so often are
joined in a saintly pose
Resting on the
hollow of my sorrows
at the centre of
my arrested heart.
And my two feet
are mountains,
the last two hills
that I saw at the very moment
I lost the race
That the years always win.
My memory is resembling
Children, bear it
swiftly away, go, go
my life is over.
My corpse is
as soft as a glove.
Le Violon also fits the theme of storytelling. The piece tells the story of a
woman who is thoroughly seduced by a violinist and his playing. She gives
into his music as people madly give into love.
Violon
Violin
Couple amoureux
aus accents méconnus
Le violon et son
joueur me plaisent.
Ah! j’aime ces
gémissements tendus
Sur la corde des malaises.
Aux accords sur
les cordes des pendus
À l’heure où
les Lois se taisent
Le cœur en forme
de fraise
S’offre à l’amour
comme un fruit inconnu.
Loving couple
of misapprehended sounds
Violin and its
player please me.
Ah! I love these
long wailings stretched
on the string of disquiet.
To the sound of
strung-up chords
At the hour
when justice is silent
The heart shaped like
a strawberry
Gives itself to love
like an unknown fruit.
Fleurs embodies the theme of love, specifically, lost love. The character
explores her memories of what the relationship once was, and what she is left
with now that it has faded.
Fleurs
Flowers
Fleurs promises,
fleurs tenues
dans tes bras,
Fleurs sorties
des parenthèses d’un pas,
-Qui t’apportait ces
fleurs l’hiver
Saupoudrés du sable des mers?
Sable de tes baisers,
fleurs des amours fanées
Les beaux yeux sont de
cendre et dans la cheminée
Un cœur enrubanné de plaintes
Brûle avec ses images saintes.
Promised flowers,
flowers held
in your arms,
Flowers from a
step’s parentheses,
-Who brought you these
flowers in winter
Sprinkled with the sea’s sand?
Sand of your kisses,
flowers of faded loves
Your lovely eyes are
ashes and in the hearth
A moan-beribboned heart
Burns with its sacred images.
This set of Spanish pieces was carefully selected to showcase songs that live in
the heart and soul of the Hispanic people. These are songs of the New World,
for they were conceived in Latin America.
Alma Llanera was composed by Pedro Elias Gutierrez. The piece is considered
to be the second national anthem of Venezuela. Alma Llanera fits within the
theme of storytelling. In a special way, this song revives in me how I feel for
the Dominican Republic and that is the story that I’m choosing to tell you as I
sing it.
Alma Llanera
Soul of the River Bank
Yo, yo nací en esta ribera
del Arauca vibrador
soy hermana de la espuma,
de las garzas, de las rosas,
soy hermano de la espuma,
de las garzas, de las rosas,
y del sol, y del sol.
Me, arrulló la viva
diana de la brisa
del palmar,
y por eso tengo el alma,
como el alma primorosa,
del cristal,
del cristal.
Amo, lloro, canto, sueño
con claveles de pasión,
con claveles de pasión,
Amo, lloro, canto, sueño
para ornar las rubias
crines del potro de mi amador.
Yo nací en esta ribera
del Arauca vibrador
Soy hermano de la espuma
de las garzas, de las rosas,
y del sol.
I was born on the banks
of the pulsing Arauca River
I'm the sister of the foam
of the herons and of the roses
I am a brother of the foam,
of the herons, of the roses
and of the sun, and of the sun.
The lively reveille
of the breeze lulled
me in the palm grove,
and that is why my soul
is like the exquisite soul
of the crystal,
of the crystal.
I love, I cry, I sing, I dream,
with carnations of passion,
with carnations of passion,
I love, I cry, I laugh, I dream,
to adorn the blonde
tail of my love’s horse.
I was born on the banks
of the pulsing Arauca River
I am a brother of the foam,
of the herons, of the roses
and of the sun.
El Dia Que Me Quieras was composed by Carlos Gardel, the acclaimed tango
composer. Gardel won the hearts of the people around the world for his
identification with the working class—this was obvious in the content of his
music. This piece illustrates the theme of love not yet shared. The character
imagines what would be like to be loved in return.
El Dia que Me Quieras
The Day You Love Me
Acaricia mi ensueño
el suave murmullo
de tu suspirar.
Como rie la vida
si tus ojos negros
me quieren mirar.
Y si es mio el amparo
de tu risa leve
que es como un cantar,
ella aquieta mi herida,
todo todo se olvida.
El día que me quieras
la rosa que engalana,
se vestirá de fiesta
con su mejor color.
Y al viento las campanas
dirán que
ya eres mía,
y locas las fontanas
se contaran su amor.
La noche que me quieras
desde el azul del cielo,
las estrellas celosas
nos mirarán pasar.
Y un rayo misterioso
hara nido en tu pelo,
luciernaga curiosa que
veras que eres
mi consuelo.
It caresses my dream
the smooth murmur
of your sighing.
How life laughs
if your black eyes
want to look at me.
And if it is mine the shelter
of your slight laughter
that is like singing,
it calms my wound,
everything is forgotten.
The day that you love me
The rose that adorns,
will dress in celebration
with its best color
And to the wind the bells
will say that already
you are mine,
and the crazy fountains
will tell about their love.
The night that you love me
from the blue of the sky
the jealous stars
will watch us go by.
And a mysterious ray
will nest in your hair,
inquisitive glow-worm
that will see that you are
my consolation.
Sabor a Mi, composed by Alvaro Carrillo (Mexican composer), is a staple for
Latin American people. It is safe to say that a lot of us Latinos grew up
listening to and singing this song. Sabor a Mi fits within both the love and
storytelling themes. Throughout the song the character tells the story of a
passed love with who she shared all her “flavor.” And therefore, even after
time has passed both lovers share each other’s “flavor.”
Sabor a Mi
A Taste of Me
Tanto tiempo
disfrutamos de este amor,
nuestras almas se
acercaron tanto así,
que yo guardo tu sabor pero
tú llevas también
sabor a mí.
Si negaras mi presencia
en tu vivir
bastaría con abrazarte
y conversar
tanta vida yo te di
que por fuerza llevas ya
sabor a mí.
No pretendo ser
tu dueño, no soy nada,
yo no tengo vanidad
de mi vida doy lo bueno
soy tan pobre que
otra cosa puedo dar?
Pasarán más de mil años
muchos más
yo no sé
si tenga amor la eternidad
pero allá tal como aquí
en la boca
llevarás
sabor a mí.
We’ve enjoyed our
love for all this time
that our soul came
together just like this that
I’ll always have your taste,
but you will also hold
a taste of me.
If you’d deny my presence
in your life
I would only need to hold you
and converse so much life
I’ve gave to you that
by strength you’d carry on
a taste of me.
I don’t pretend to be
your owner, I'm no one,
I don’t have any vanity,
of this life I give my best
I’m so poor that
nothing else I can give.
A thousand years
or more will have to pass,
I don’t know
if there is love in eternity
but from then till now
on in your mouth
you’ll always have
a taste of me.
Granada was composed by Mexican singer and songwriter Agustin Lara, one
of the great “boleristas” of his time. Granada fits within the themes of love and
storytelling. The song illustrates Lara’s close connection to the land of
Granada. Throughout the song he depicts Granada’s beauty, uniqueness and
identity.
Granada
Granada
Granada, tierra soñada por mí,
mi cantar se vuelve gitano
cuando es para ti.
Mi cantar, hecho de fantasía,
mi cantar, flor de melancolía,
que yo te vengo a dar.
Granada, tierra ensangretada
en tardes de toros,
mujer que conserva el embrujo
de los ojos moros.
De sueño, rebelde, gitana
cubierta de flores,
y beso tu boca de grana,
jugosa manzana
que me habla de amores.
Granada, land of my dreams,
my song becomes a gypsy song
when I sing to you.
My song, born of fancy;
my song, melancholy flower,
that I've come to offer you.
Granada, land covered in blood
from the bullfighting afternoons,
woman who retains the spell
of Moorish eyes.
A dream-land, a rebel, a gypsy,
covered with flowers,
and I kiss your scarlet mouth,
juicy apple
that tells me about love affairs.
Special thanks to Hector Velez (my uncle) for providing valuable background
pertaining to the four popular Latin American songs.
Upcoming Events
December
4 - Ford - 4:00pm - Symphony Orchestra (Webstreamed)
4 - Hockett - 5:00pm - Intergenerational Choir
5 - Hockett - 7:00pm - Woodwind Chamber Ensemble
5 - Ford - 8:15pm - Monday Jazz Lab
6 - Ford - 8:15pm - Percussion Ensemble
7 - Hockett - 7:00pm - Piano Chamber Ensembles
7 - Ford - 8:15pm - Wind Ensemble (Webstreamed)
8 - Hockett - 6:30pm - String Quartet Marathon
8 - Ford - 8:15pm - Concert and Symphonic Bands
9 - Ford - 8:15pm - Jazz Ensemble
10 - Ford - 9:30am - Faculty Showcase Concert
10 - Ford - 8:15pm - Chamber Orchestra (Webstreamed)
11 - Ford - 3:00pm - Winter Choral Concert
11 - Ford - 8:15pm - Percussion Ensemble
12 - Ford - 8:15pm - Wednesday Jazz Lab
13 - Hockett - 7:00pm - Piano/Instrumental Duos
15 - Ford - 7:00pm - Campus Choral Ensemble