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"If you have never heard this group, you have missed out on a rare, wondrous musical treat.".
Including works by Monteverdi, Gibbons, Brahms, and Elgar. (For a complete list, see the Program Order.) Tickets are $15 ($13 seniors/students) For more information, please call 914-931-6575 You can download our Flyer for this concert (and we wouldn't mind if you wanted to put one up in your favorite neighborhood shop! ;-)From our press release:Charis Chamber Voices will give two performances of "We Sing of Love," choral treasures from the Renaissance and Romantic eras. The acclaimed Westchester-based ensemble led by Susanne Peck will sing songs by Monteverdi, Brahms, Schubert, Elgar, and others. Michael Jaffee, director of the Waverly Consort, has called Charis "a superb ensemble." The first part of the concert will present Renaissance madrigals, some sung by the full chorus of about 30 and others performed by small groups ranging in size from 2 singers to 16. The full chorus will sing Orlando di Lasso's beloved "Mon coeur se recommande à vous," a song of longing for a lover lost, and John Wilbye's dancing "Sweet Honey-Sucking Bees," which celebrates the sweet lips of the singer's ladylove. One small group will sing Monteverdi's amusingly overwrought "Ohimè, se tanto amate," and another will feature four talented Westchester high school students in John Bennett's charming "Let Go, Why Do You Stay Me?" The second part of the concert will offer music from the Romantic period, beginning with Franz Schubert's "Ständchen" ("Serenade") for mezzo-soprano and 4-part men's chorus with piano accompaniment. Ms. Peck, who has performed and recorded extensively, will be the soloist. Next, the women of Charis, accompanied by two horns and a harp, will sing Brahm's "Vier Gesänge" ("Four Songs") of unrequited or lost love. Songs for the full chorus will include Elgar's "My Love Dwelt in a Northern Land" and Parry's "There Is an Old Belief," expressing the hope that after death friends will be reunited "serene in changeless prime" for all eternity. Although the theme of love unites the concert's songs, there are marked contrasts between the two time periods. Ms. Peck calls the Renaissance "the teenage years of music. It can be very serious and intense, but vocally it has a young, clean sound." Vocal music in both eras imitated the instrumental music of the day. By the nineteenth century, advances in musical instruments resulted in music with a far different sound, more lush and sustained. Brahms, for instance, has "beautiful, soaring, lyrical lines for the voice," says Ms. Peck. Dennis Keene of New York's famed Voices of Ascension has praised Charis's blend, virtuosity and clarity. Michael Jaffee of the Waverly Consort calls Ms. Peck "an outstanding singer and gifted conductor." A resident of Lake Katonah, she is on the faculty of the Hoff-Barthelson Music School in Scarsdale and enjoys a career as a professional soloist. She maintains a private teaching practice in Westchester. Translations
Mon coeur se recommande à vous
I commend my heart to you,
Filled with languor and martyrdom;
At least in spite of the envious
May I be able to say farewell to you!
My mouth, which once knew how to smile
And make pleasant conversation
Can now only curse
Those who banished me from your sight.
Quel augellin che canta
That little bird that sings
So sweetly and wantonly flies
Now from the fir tree to the beech
And now from the beech to the myrtle,
Would, if he had a human soul,
Be saying, "I am aflame with love!"
But doubtless his heart is aflame,
And he is calling to his mate
Who replies, "I too am aflame with love!"
My blessing be upon you,
Loving, tender, pretty little bird.
Ohimè, se tanto amate
Alas, if you take such pleasure
In hearing the word "alas,"
Then why would you slay
The one who says, "Alas?"
If I die, you will only hear
A single, moaning, miserable "alas."
But if, my dear, you wish
To let me live
And wish to live for me, you shall have
A thousand, thousand times a tender "alas."
Il bianco e dolce cigno
The white and gentle swan dies singing,
And I, weeping, reach the end of my life.
What a strange, diverse fate that he dies unconsoled
And I die blessed. Death, which in dying
Fills me full of joy and desire.
If, in dying, no other pain I feel,
With a thousand deaths a day I'd be content.
Ständchen (Serenade)
Hesitatingly, softly,
In the dark's nightly cover
Are we here.
With the finger softly bent
Lightly we knock
On the sweetheart's chamber-door.
But now climbing, swelling, lifting
With united voice, loudly
We call out, very familiarly:
Sleep not,
When the voice of inclination speaks.
Once a wise man sought people near and far
With the lantern;
How much rarer, then, than gold
Are people fond and favorably disposed to us.
Therefore when friendship speaks,
When love speaks,
Friend, sweetheart, sleep not.
To what in all realms
Could slumber be compared?
Therefore instead of words and gifts,
Should you now have rest?
Yet with a little greeting, a word,
The merry tune becomes silent
And softly we slip away.
Es tönt ein voller Harfenklang
The full sound of harps rings out,
Swelling one with love and yearning;
It pierces deep into the fearful heart,
And leaves the eyes streaming.
O run, my tears, stream down;
O pound, my heart, and tremble;
Love and happiness lie buried in the grave,
Lost is my life!
Lied von Shakespeare (Song from Twelfth Night)
Come away, come away, death,
And in sad cypress let me be laid.
Fly away, fly away breath,
I am slain by fair cruel maid.
My shroud of white, all stuck with yew,
O prepare it!
My part of death, no one so true
Did share it.
Not a flower, not a flower sweet
On my black coffin let there be strewn;
Not a friend, not a friend greet
My poor corpse, where my bones shall be thrown.
A thousand, thousand sighs to save,
Lay me, O where
Sad true lover never find my grave,
To weep there.
Der Gärtner (The Gardener)
Where'er I walk and gaze,
In field and wood and vale,
From mountaintop to meadow,
Most lovely noble lady,
I greet you thousandfold.
In my garden I do find
Many flowers fair and fine,
Many a garland I weave of them,
And a thousand thoughts and greetings
Into them entwine.
None of these dare I offer her,
She is too noble and fair,
They must all wither away,
Only love beyond compare
Remains forever in the heart.
I seem to be of good cheer,
And labor back and forth,
And though my heart should break,
I dig away and sing,
And soon shall dig my grave.
Gesang aus Fingal (Song from Fingal)
Weep on the rocks of the roaring winds,
Weep, O maid of Inistore!
O'er the waves bend thy fair head,
Lovelier thou than the spirit of the mountain,
When at noon upon a sunbeam
He soars o'er the silence of Morven.
He has fallen; thy young love lies low,
Pale he sank beneath Cuchulain's sword.
Nevermore shall valour rouse thy love,
To shed the flood of kings.
Weep on the rocks of the roaring winds,
Weep, o maid of Inistore!
Trenar, the winsome Trenor has died,
O maid of Inistore!
His greyhounds are howling at home,
They see his ghost passing by.
Trenar, the winsome Trenar has died,
O maid of Inistore!
His bow hangs unstrung in the hall,
Nothing moves upon the heath of the hinds.
Weep on the rocks of the roaring winds,
Weep, O maid of Inistore!
Die Wollust in den Maien
Delight in May,
A time that brought joy,
Varieties of flowers,
Each like unto itself,
There are the red roses,
The violets, the green clover,
Separation from love,
That causes pain.
Songs of birds,
The time brought joys,
Her love controlled me,
She spoke to me kindly.
Should I ask you, beautiful love,
If you would speak well of me?
Have mercy on me, beautiful woman,
So spoke I.
After many a heavy sigh,
I suppose I will be back,
After cries and pain,
I see your little eyes clearly.
I beg you, my chosen one,
my heart, young and true,
Is yours to command.
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