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Music at the Art Chamber
Art Chamber
Galeria de Belas Artes
Art Chamber Galeria de Belas Artes
Friday 18th September 2014
Begin: 7.30pm

Joanne D' Mello (soprano)
Sung ah Park (piano)



Robert Schumann Widmung Op.25, No.1
(1810-1856) Der Nu?baum Op.25, No.3
Singet nicht in trauertönen Op.98a

Franz Schubert Nur wer die Sehnsucht kennt D877
(1797-1828) Liebhaber in allen Gestalten D558
Die Forelle D550

Hugo Wolf Nixe Binsefu? No.45 (Mörike Lieder)
(1860-1903) Mausfallen-Sprüchlein (Mörike Lieder)
Du denkst mit einem Fädchen No.10 (Italian Songbook)
Man sagt mir, deine Mutter woll' es nicht No.21 (Italian Songbook)
Lied vom Winde No.38 (Mörike Lieder)

Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy Andres Maienlied Op.8, No.8
( 1809-1847)

------------------------ Interval -----------------------------------------------------

George Crumb The night in silence No.1 (from "Apparition")
(1929- )
Benjamin Britten Nocturne (No.4 from "On this island")
(1913-1976) As it is plenty (No.5 from "On this island")

Kurt Weil Je ne t'aime pas
(1900-1950) Youkali

Giacomo Puccini O mio babbino caro (Lauretta's aria from Gianni Schicchi)

Franz Lehár Meine Lippen, sie küssen so hei? (From the operetta "Giuditta")

Sung-Ah Park

Sung-Ah Park (Piano)

South Korean born Pianist Sung-Ah Park has just completed a Meisterklasse degree at the Conservatory in Leipzig on a German Scholarship, where she studied Vocal Correpetition and Song Accompaniment with Alexander Schmalcz. She has a wide range of experience as a soloist and accompanist. She has performed extensively in South Korea, notably the Mozart Piano Concerto Nr.26 with Pusan Symphony Ochestra. In 2007 she was awared "Young Artist of the Year 2007" by PBC Broadcasting, Pusan in South Korea.
Sung-Ah Park completed a Master's degree in Solo Piano (from South Korea) before moving to Germany to pursue a Master's degree in Vocal Co-repetition. She has performed all over Germany, including prestigious venues like the Mendelssohn House, Schumann House and the Gewandhaus in Leipzig. In 2014, Sung-Ah participated in a Masterclass with the Pianist Menahem Pressler. She also studied the French Song repertoire for a year with American Pianist Phillip Moll. For the past 3 years Sung-Ah Park has worked as a Co-repetition Assistant for the Vocal Department at the Music Conservatory in Leipzig. In 2012 she was awared the "Best Accompanist" prize in the Albert Lortzing. This July, she was appointed to be one of the official accompanists at the 2015 International Sächsische Sänger Academy in Torgau and and in August she was invited to accompany the Vocal Masterclass of world renowned tenor Peter Schreier in Austria.

Joanne D'Mello

Joanne D'Mello (Soprano)
Joanne comes from Goa where she studied the violin and singing at the Kala Academy. She has a Bsc in Microbiology from St. Xavier's College Goa and a BMus from the Royal College of Music in London where she studied with Patricia Rozario OBE. Joanne has sung in Masterclasses of great opera singers like Sir Thomas Allen, Ann Murray, Sarah Walker and Lied interpreters like Christoph Pregardien, Matthias Goerne, Graham Johnson and Ian Bostridge. While in London she performed at various venues like the National Gallery, the Victoria and Albert Museum, St. Martin in the fields and Holywell Music Hall (Oxford). She also appeared on BBC Songs of Praise on UK Television.
After London, Joanne attended the Flanders Operastudio in Gent, where she sang at the Opera Houses of Antwerp, Gent, La Monnaie in Brussels, deSingel in Antwerp and the Concertgebouw in Brugge. In 2012-13 she toured Belgium and France with a childrens' Opera called Princess Turandot by the Antwerp based theater company WALPURGIS.
In 2013 Joanne was awarded a DAAD Artist Scholarship to pursue higher studies in Germany at the Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy Hochschule für Musik und Theater in Leipzig with Regina Dietrich-Werner. Joanne just made her debut in the role of Susanna in Mozart's Le nozze di Figaro in Weikersheim (Germany).

Translation of the texts

Robert Schumann
Dedication (Friedrich Rückert)
You my soul, you my heart,
you my bliss, o you my pain,
you the world in which I live;
you my heaven, in which I float,
o you my grave, into which
I eternally cast my grief.
You are rest, you are peace,
you are bestowed upon me from heaven.
That you love me makes me worthy of you;
your gaze transfigures me;
you raise me lovingly above myself,
my good spirit, my better self!

The Walnut Tree (Julius Mosen)
Green before the house a walnut stands.
spreading, fragrant, airy, its leafy branches.
Many lovely blossoms it bears;
gentle winds visit them with loving embrace.
Paired together, they whisper,
gracefully inclining delicate heads to kiss.
Whisper of a maiden who
night and day pondered, ah, and knew not what.
Whisper - who can understand so soft a song? -
of a husband-to-be, of next year.
Then she listens, the tree rustles;
yearning, hoping, she sinks, smiling, into sleep and dreams.
Philine's Song (Johann Wolfgang von Goethe's "Wilhelm Meister")

Do not sing in mournful tones
of the loneliness of Night.
No; it was, o tender, fair ones,
made for companionship.

Can you delight in the day,
which only interrupts joy?
It is good for distraction,
but of use for nothing else.
But when, in that nocturnal hour,
the sweet lamps' twilight flows,
and from mouth to neighboring mouth
pour jests and love;

when that quick, scampish boy
who hurries, wild and fiery,
often toying with a small gift
in light play to pass the time;

when the nightingale sings to sweethearts
a little song full of love,
which to the imprisoned and troubled
sounds only like sighs and moans;

with such a lightly stirring heart
do you not listen to the bell,
that, with twelve measured strokes
promises repose and safety?

Thus, in the long day,
mark it well, dear heart:
every day has its troubles,
and the night has its pleasure.


Franz Schubert

Mignon's Song (Johann Wolfgang von Goethe's "Wilhelm Meister")
Only one who knows longing
Knows what I suffer!
Alone and cut off
From all joy,
I look into the firmament
In that direction.

Ach! He who loves and knows me
Is far away.
I am reeling,
My entrails are burning.
Only one who knows longing
Knows what I suffer!

The Trout (Christian Friedrich Schubart)
In a clear little brook,
There darted, about in happy haste,
The moody trout
Dashing everywhere like an arrow.
I stood on the bank
And watched, in sweet peace,
The fish's bath
In the clear little brook.

A fisherman with his gear
Came to stand on the bank
And watched with cold blood
As the little fish weaved here and there.
But as long as the water remains clear,
I thought, no worry,
He'll never catch the trout
With his hook.

But finally, for the thief,
Time seemed to pass too slowly.
He made the little brook murky,
And before I thought it could be,
So his line twitched.
There thrashed the fish,
And I, with raging blood,
Gazed on the betrayed one.

Lover in all forms (Goethe)
I wish I were a fish,
so quick and fresh;
and if you came to fish,
I would not stay away.
I wish I were a fish,
so quick and fresh;

I wish I were gold,
always in your pocket,
and if you used me to buy something,
I would come running back.
I wish I were gold,
always in your pocket.

But I am just as I am;
and take me for that!
If you want something better,
then let them carve it out of you.
For I am just as I am;
and take me for that.

Hugo Wolf

The Mermaid Rushfoot (Eduard Mörike)
The daughter of the water spirit
Danced on the ice in the full moon,
She laughed unabashedly,
passing by the fisherman's house.

"I am the maiden Rushfoot,
and I must tend my fish,
They are in a chest
with only cold meals to eat.

The chest is made of Bohemian glass,
so I can count them anytime I want.
"Really fisher-beast, you old fool,
Can't you get into your head it's winter?

Come with your nets,
I'll tear them to shreds!
Sure, your maiden is good and gentle,
and her boyfriend is a brave hunter.

So I will hang a wedding bouquet
of reeds on the house,
And a pike made of silver,
which dates from the time of King Arthur,

A masterpiece from a dwarf-goldsmith,
that brings luck to its keeper.
One can scale it year after year
and get 500 Groshen.

Farewell, my child, farewell for today.
The morning rooster is wailing in the village."

A little Mouse-trap Epigram (Eduard Mörike)
Little guests, little house.
Dear Miss or Mister Mouse,
just boldly present yourself
tonight in the moonlight!
But shut the door tight behind you,
do you hear?
And be careful of your tail!
After supper we will sing,
After supper we will jump
and do a little dance;
Witt witt!
My old cat will probably dance with us.

Two songs from the Italian Book
You think that, with a tiny string, you can catch me,
With one glance, you can make me fall in love?
I've caught others already who soared higher;
You mustn't trust me when you see me laugh.
I've caught others already, believe you me.
I am in love - but just not with you!

They told me your mother does not want it;
So stay away, my darling, carry out her wishes.
Ah, dearest, no! Do not carry out her wish -
Do visit me, do it in spite of her, in secret!
No, my beloved, never listen to her,
Do it in spite of her, come here often!
No, do not listen to what she might say;
Do it in spite of her, my love, come every day!

Song of the Wind (Eduard Mörike)
Soaring wind, roaring wind,
there and here!
tell me where your homeland is!

"Child, we travel
for many a long year
through the wide world,
and we too want to know this,
and track down the answer,
from the mountains, the seas,
the resounding hosts of heaven,
who never know.
If you are wiser than they,
you can tell us.
Off, away!
Don't delay us!
Others follow, our brothers;
ask again of them."

Stop! Steady on!
Wait just a moment!
Say, where is the homeland of Love,
its beginning, its end?

"Who could name it?
Teasing child,
Love is like the winds,
swift and alive,
never at rest;
it is eternal
but not always constant
Off, away!
Don't delay us!
Away over stubble and woods and meadows.
If I see your sweetheart,
I'll blow a kiss.
Child, adieu!"

Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy
Another May-song (The Witch's Song by Christoph Hölty)
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!

Old Satan swears
To make repairs
With promise of marvelous pleasure;
All spirits glad
In silk are clad,
Unearthing great chestfuls of treasure.

A dragon flies
Now down from the skies
With presents of food for the table.
The neighbours sight
The sparks in flight
And cross themselves as fast as they're able.

George Crumb
Apparition No.1 (Text by Walt Whitman from Memories of President Lincoln)
The night, in silence, under many a star;
The ocean shore and the husky whispering wave, whose voice I know;
And the soul turning to thee, O vast and well-veil'd death,
And the body gratefully nestling close to thee.

Benjamin Britten

Nocturne (W H Auden)
Now through night's caressing grip
Earth and all her oceans slip,
Capes of China slide away
From her fingers into day.
And th'Americas incline
Coasts towards her shadow line.
Now the ragged vagrants creep
Into crooked holes to sleep:
Just and unjust, worst and best
Change their places as they rest:
Awkward lovers lie in fields
Where disdainful beauty yields.
While the splendid and the proud,
Naked stand before the crowd,
And the loosing gambler gains
And the devil entertains:
May sleeps healing power express
Through these hours to our friend.
Unpursued by hostile force,
Traction engine, bull or horse
Or revolting Succubus;
Calmly till the morning break
Let him lie, then gently wake.

As it is plenty (W H Auden)

As it is plenty;
As it's admitted
The children happy
And the car, the car
that goes so far
And the wife devoted:
To this as it is,
To the work and the banks,
Let his thinning hair
And his hauteur
Give thanks, give thanks!
All that was though
As like as not, is not
When nothing was enough
But love, but love
And the rough future
Of an intransigent nature
And the betraying smile,
Betraying, but a smile:
That that is not, is not;
Forget, forget.
Let him not cease to praise
Then his spacious days:
Yes, and the success
Let him bless, let him bless:
Let him see in this
The profits larger
And the sins venal
Lest he see as it is
The loss as major.
And final, final.

Kurt Weil
Je ne t'aime pas (Maurice Magre)
Pull your hand back, I don't love you!
For you wanted it, you're just a friend.
The hollows of your hands, your dear kiss
And your sleeping head are for others.
Don't talk to me at night:
Not too intimately, nor even in a whisper
Do not give me your handkerchief
It carries too much the fragrance I love.
Tell me your loves, I don't love you!
What hour was the headiest to you?
I don't love you.
And if she didn't love you, or she was ungrateful
While telling me, don't be charming
I don't love you...

I didn't cry, I didn't suffer.
It was only a dream and an extravagance.
I'll only need your eyes to be bright
Without evening regret nor melancholy.
I'll only need to see your happiness
I'll only need to see your smile
Tell me how she took your heart away
And tell me what can't be said
No, rather shut up. I'm down on my knees
The fire went out, the door is shut...
I don't love you!
Don't ask me anything, I'm crying. That's all...
I don't love you
I don't love you, my beloved…
Pull your hand back, I don't love you!

It's almost at the end of the world
My vagabond boat,
Drifting at the whim of the waves,
Brought me there one day.
The island is tiny,
But the Fairy who lives there
Gently invites us
To go around a trip.
Youkali, it is the land of our desires,
Youkali, it is happiness,
It is pleasure.
Youkali, it is the land where
You quit all your troubles,
It is, in our night,
Like a clearing.
The star we follow,
it's Youkali !
Youkali, it is respect
Of all the exchanged wishes.
Youkali, it is the country
Of the beautiful shared loves.
It is hope at the heart of all the humans,
The relief we all await for tomorrow.

But this is a dream, a folly,
There is no Youkali!
But this is a dream, a folly,
There is no Youkali!

And life leads us,
Tedious routine,
But the poor human soul,
Seeking forgetfulness everywhere,
In order to quit earth,
resolved the mystery
Where our dreams hide
In some Youkali...

Giacomo Puccini

O mio babbino caro (Giovacchino Forzano)
Oh my dear father,
I like him, he is very handsome.
I want to go to Porta Rossa
to buy the ring!
Yes, yes, I want to go there!
And if my love were in vain,
I would go to Ponte Vecchio
and throw myself in the Arno!
I am pining and I am tormented,
Oh God! I would want to die!
Daddy, have mercy, have mercy!

Franz Lehár

My lips, they kiss like fire (Paul Knepler und Fritz Löhner-Beda)
Why ever should it be
That men at once make love to me?
When they are near me,
There they stand.
Their eyes look deep in mine.
They always kiss my hand.
Why ever should it be

They speak of magic charms in me
That no man can resist?
For every time they look at me these charms persist.

But when the soft lights glint and glance
As midnight hours go by
They hear me sing, they see me dance
It's then that I know why
On my lips every kiss is like wine
In my arms love is more than divine,
Its engraved in the stars high above me
Men must kiss me, men must love me.

When my feet haunting rhythms inspire,
In my eyes gleam the flames of desire,
When I dance, then I know Fate's design.

On my lips every kiss is like wine.
I have a dancer's blood
That rules me like a throbbing flood.

My mother was the dancing star
Without a rival at the Golden Alcazar!
How great she must have been!
In dreams I have so often seen
The raptures when she danced;
She held each heart enthralled and every eye

Her spirit wakes in me again,
My fortune wills it so.
At night I dance as she did then,
And this is all I know.



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