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Graduate recitals Stobbe, Julie Ann 1995

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GRADUATE RECITALS . , 2 _ c # f e JULIE ANN STOBBE B.Mus., Southwest Texas State University, 1991 A THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FUIJFTLLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF MASTER OF MUSIC (VOICE) in THE FACULTY OF GRADUATE STUDIES (School of Music) We accept this thesis as conforming, to the required standard THE UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH COLUMBIA April 1995 © Julie Ann Stobbe, 1995 In presenting this thesis in partial fulfilment of the requirements for an advanced degree at the University of British Columbia, I agree that the Library shall make it freely available for reference and study. I further agree that permission for extensive copying of this thesis for scholarly purposes may be granted by the head of my department or by his or her representatives. It is understood that copying or publication of this thesis for financial gain shall not be allowed without my written permission. Department The University of British Columbia Vancouver, Canada Date fAau<\j Wr DE-6 (2/88) THE UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH COLUMBIA SCHOOL OF MUSIC Recital Hall Saturday, December 4, 1993 8:00 p.m. MASTERS STUDENT RECITAL* JULIE STOBBE, Soprano Cheryl Pauls, piano I Singe Seele HWV 206 Siisse Stille HWV 205 Flammende Rose HWV 210 Anne Simons, violin Andrea Bell, cello G. F. Handel (1685-1759) II A Pastoral Song Pleasing Pain She Never Told Her Love Fidelity HXXVIa, 27 HXXVIa, 29 HXXVIa, 34 HXXVIa, 30 F. J. Haydn (1732-1809) - INTERMISSION -III Anakreons Grab Goethe Hugo Wolf Mausfallen Sprtichlein Goethe (1860-1903) Verborgenheit Mbrike rv "I Hate Music!" (a cycle of a five kid songs) Leonard Bernstein (1918-1990) My Name Is Barbara Jupiter Has Seven Moons I Hate Music The Little Indian I'm A Person Too * In partial fulfillment of the requirements for the Master of Music degree with a major in Voice Performance. Reception to follow in the Faculty Lounge. T R A N S L A T I O N S G. F. Handel Sing, Soul! Sing, soul, in praise of God. Who, in such wise fashion Adorns everything in such splendour. Who delights us with the power to see. When He covers tree and meadow with flowers May he be lauded, may He be praised. Sweet Tranquillity Sweet tranquillity, placid source of calm repose. The soul, my very soul is gladdened. When after this time of futile industry I shall see peace before me That is always ready to receive us. Flaming Rose Flaming rose, ornament of the earth. Enchanting glory of magnificent gardens; Eyes that behold thy excellence Must wonder at thy beauty and confess That you were made by divine hand. Hugo Wolf Anacreon's Grave Here where the rose is blooming. Where the vines twine themselves around the laurel. Where the dove coos. Where the grasshopper rejoices, What is this grave here, that all the gods With living plants have so adorned? It is Anacreon's resting place. Spring, summer and autumn Were enjoyed by the happy poet; And from the winter he was shielded by the hill. Mouse-catching Rhyme Small visitors, a small house, dear she-mouse or he-mouse, do walk bravely in tonight in the moonlight! But shut the door nicely behind you, d'you hear? And mind your tail as you go. After dinner we'll sing. After dinner we'll jump about, and have a little dance. Witt, witt! Witt, witt! My old cat will probably dance too, d'you hear? The Recluse Let, o world, o let me be! Tempt me not with charitable gifts. Let this heart, in solitude, feel It's joy, its pain! I do not know the cause of this sadness, It is indefinable pain; Yet, constantly through my tears 1 see The friendly rays of sunshine. Often 1 am barely conscious When the bright joy breaks Through the darkness, and wondrously Lightens my heart. T H E UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH C O L U M B I A SCHOOL OF MUSIC Recital Hall Sunday. April 30, 1995 3:30 p.m. MASTERS STUDENT RECITAL* JULIE STOBBE, Soprano with Richard Epp, Piano Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756-1791) Allegro Recitative Andate Allegro Exultate, jubilate Motet K. 165 Lied der Braut Robert Schumann I (1810-1856) II Der arme Peter I II III Marienwurmchen La Regata Veneziana Gioachino Rossini (1792-1868) Anzoleta avanti la regata Anzoleta co passa la regata Anzoleta dopo la regata - INTERMISSION -Fiancailles pour rire Francis Poulenc (1899-1963) La Dame d'Andre Dans Therbe II vole Mon cadavre est doux comme un gant Viblon Fleurs Memories A. Very Pleasant B. Rather Sad Two Little Flowers An Old Flame Charlie Rutlage They Are There (Fighting for a People's New Free World) Charles Ives (1874-1954) Jennifer Henry, piccolo * In partial fulfillment of the requirements for the Master of Music degree with a major in Voice. Reception to follow in the Faculty Lounge. Exultate, jubilate Allegro Rejoice, shout, O ye blessed souls, singing sweet hymns; responding to your song the skies sing psalms with me. Recitative The friendly daylight shines, both clouds and storms have now fled; for the righteous and unexpected calm has come. Everywhere dark night reigned; rise up at last in gladness, ye that were afraid till now, and joyfully present to the happy dawn handfuls of lilies. Andate Thou crown of virgins, give us peace, thou, ready to give comfort wherever a heart sighs. Allegro Alleluia Lied der Brant (Song of the Bride) I O. mother, do not think because I love him so much, I do not love you as I did before. O, mother, since I have loved him, my love for you is greater than ever. Let me draw you to my heart, and kiss you, as he kisses me! O, mother, since I so loved him, my love for you is only now complete - for you gave me my being, that has grown to enjoy such splendour. II Let me cling to his breast O, mother, cease your fears! Do not ask: will it ever change? Do not ask: how will it end? Change? I cannot yet know how! Let me cling to his breast -O let me! Der arme Peter (Poor Peter) I Hans and Greta are dancing together, and laughing for sheer joy. Peter stands silent and still, his face as white as chalk. Hans and Greta are bridegroom and bride sparkling in their wedding jewels. Poor Peter chews his nails as he goes his way in workday clothes. Peter mutters to himself, as he miserably watches them both, "Alas! If 1 hadn't so much sense, I'd do myself some real harm." II The grief that weighs in my heart will surely burst my breast: Wherever I am, and wherever I go, it drives me away from here. It drives me to my loved one's side, as if Greta could ease my pain. But when I look into her eyes, I have to hasten away. I climb right to the mountain-top, for there I can be alone. And when I stand up there so still, silently I weep. III Poor Peter falters slowly along, timid and pale as death. In the streets the passers-by almost stop when they see him. Girls whisper to each other: "Has he just climbed out of his grave "Oh no, my dear young ladies - he's just on his way there! He's lost his sweetheart, and so the grave's the best place for him to lie and sleep till the day of Judgement." Marienwurmchen (Ladybird) O Ladybird, come, sit on my hand. I'll do you no harm. No harm will come to you. I want to see your bright wings. I love bright wings. O Ladybird fly away - your house is on fire, and your children cry with all their might. A wicked spider spins a web all around them. Ladybird fly home - your children cry with all their might. O Ladybird, fly away to the children, next-door they'll do you no harm. No harm will come to you. They want to see your bright wings Just go and say hello. La Regata Veneziana (The Venetian Regata) I. Before the race The flag billows on the alcove, look! If you see it, go and get it, you must bring it to me before evening, or else you cannot show yourself among people anymore. Go on, go on, Momolo, don't linger, don't indulge! Goon, oarsman, push the gondola, you cannot miss the first prize. Go on, go on, remember your beloved one watches you anxiously and trembling. Go on, Momolo, don't linger, don't indulge, Hurry! Fly! II. During the race They are here, they are here, don't you see them bent over the oar? Ah, the goal is still far away. The wind turns, becomes a Northwind, poor men! I am shivering. But the current is in my favor. Did you see my Momolo? Yes, I can see him, he is second. Ah! What a rush! I'm all confused, I can feel my heart leap. Come on, have courage, row, row! When you are near the goal show your full strength and nobody will beat you. Dear, dear one! He seems to fly, He has passed all the others. He is ahead half a ship's length. I understand, he looks at me. He is ahead half a ship's length. I understand! He looks at me! III. After the race Here, a kiss, another one, from all my heart, beloved Momolo. Come, have a rest, it's time. Let me mop your brow. Oh! I saw you, you looked at me as you passed the little hill, and I thought with happy reassurance: "He will get the prize!" Yes, the flag is a wonderful prize, with its red color. All of Venice, like one man, will proclaim you victor. Here, a kiss, bless your heart. You have no equal among oarsmen, none in your family, none in crossing the water. Nobody can match you, compare to you! Fiancailles pour rire I. La Dame d'Andre (Andres Lady) Andre does not know the woman whom he took by the hand today. Has she a heart for the tomorrows, and for the evenings has she a soul? On returning from a country ball did she go in her flowing dress to seek in the hay stacks the ring for the random betrothal? Was she afraid, when night fell, haunted by the ghosts of the past, in her garden, when winter entered by the wide avenue? He loved her for her colour, for her Sunday good humour. Will she fade on the white leaves of his album of better days? II. Dans L'herbe (In the grass) I can say nothing more nor can I do anything for him. He died for his beautiful one he died a beautiful death outside under the tree of the Law in deep silence in open countryside in the grass. He died unnoticed crying out in his passing calling calling me. But as I was far from him and because his voice no longer carried he died alone in the woods beneath the tree of his childhood. And 1 can say nothing more nor do anything for rum. III. II vole (He Hies) As the sun is setting it is reflected in the polished surface of my table it is the round cheese of the fable in the beak of my silver scissors. But where is the crow? It flies. I should like to sew but a magnet attracts all my needles. On the square the skittle players pass the time with game after game. But where is my lover? He flies. I have a thief for a lover, the crow flies and my lover steals, the thief of my heart breaks his word and the thief of the cheese is not here. But where is happiness? It flies. I weep under the weeping willow I mingle my tears with its leaves. I weep because I want to be desired and I am not pleasing to my thief. But where then is love? It flies. Find the thyme for my lack of reason and by the roads of the countryside bring me back my flighty lover who takes hearts and drives me mad. I wish that my thief would steal me. IV. Mon cadavre est doux comme un (My corpse is as limp as a glove) My corpse is as limp as a glove limp as a glove of glace kid and my two hidden pupils make two white pebbles of my eyes. Two white pebbles in my face two muted in the silence still shadowed by a secret and heavy with the burden of things seen. My fingers so often straying are joined in a saintly pose resting on the hollow of my groans at the centre of my arrested heart. And my two feet are the mountains the last two hills I saw at the moment when I lost the race that the years win. I still resemble myself children bear away the memory quickly, go, go my life is done. My corpse is as limp as a glove. V. Violon (Violin) Enamoured couple with the misprized accents the violin and its player please me. Ah?! I love these wailings long drawn out on the cord of uneasiness. In chords on the cords of the hanged at the hour when the Laws are silent the heart, formed like a strawberry, offers itself to love like an unknown fruit. VI. Fleurs (Flowers) Promised flowers, flowers held in your arms, flowers sprung from the parenthesis of a step, who brought you these flowers in winter powdered with the sand of the seas? Sand of your kisses, flowers of faded loves the beautiful eyes are ashes, and in the fireplace a heart beribboned with sighs burns with its treasured pictures. 

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