Friday, December 9, 2011
Track 1 - Sull'aria - A little song on the breeze
Sull’aria
Sull'aria
Che soave zeffiretto Questa sera spirerà Sotto i pini del boschetto. Ei già il resto capirà.
Certo, certo il capirà.
A little song on the breeze On the breeze
What a gentle zephyr
Will whisper this evening
Beneath the pines in the copse
And he'll understand the rest
Oh, yes, certainly he'll understand it
And he'll understand the rest
Oh, yes, certainly he'll understand it
Sull'aria
Che soave zeffiretto Questa sera spirerà Sotto i pini del boschetto. Ei già il resto capirà.
Certo, certo il capirà.
A little song on the breeze On the breeze
What a gentle zephyr
Will whisper this evening
Beneath the pines in the copse
And he'll understand the rest
Oh, yes, certainly he'll understand it
And he'll understand the rest
Oh, yes, certainly he'll understand it
Track 2 - Divinités du Styx - Ye Gods of endless night
Divinités du Styx
Divinités du Styx, ministres de la mort, je n'invoquerai point votre pitié cruelle.
J'enlève un tendre époux à son funeste sort, mais je vous abandonne une épouse fidèle.
Divinités du Styx, ministres de la mort, mourir pour ce qu'on aime, est un trop doux effort, une vertu si naturelle, mon coeur est animé du plus noble transport.
Je sens une force nouvelle, je vais où mon amour m'appelle, mon coeur est animé du plus noble transport.
Ye Gods of endless night Ye Gods of endless night,
That wait on death below,
I’ll to you ne’er appeal
Who know no pity tender,
My spouse I take from you,
From grief and bitter woe,
In his stead I, a fond wife and faithful, surrender.
Ye Gods of endless night,
That wait on death below,
Of love a willing victim, to death I gladly go,
Thus be it, I have no fear to rue it,
My heart feels courage great,
Which through love it first did know.
Love’s power supreme doth imbue it,
And fearless strength is given through it.
My heart feels courage great,
Which through love it doth know.
Divinités du Styx, ministres de la mort, je n'invoquerai point votre pitié cruelle.
J'enlève un tendre époux à son funeste sort, mais je vous abandonne une épouse fidèle.
Divinités du Styx, ministres de la mort, mourir pour ce qu'on aime, est un trop doux effort, une vertu si naturelle, mon coeur est animé du plus noble transport.
Je sens une force nouvelle, je vais où mon amour m'appelle, mon coeur est animé du plus noble transport.
Ye Gods of endless night Ye Gods of endless night,
That wait on death below,
I’ll to you ne’er appeal
Who know no pity tender,
My spouse I take from you,
From grief and bitter woe,
In his stead I, a fond wife and faithful, surrender.
Ye Gods of endless night,
That wait on death below,
Of love a willing victim, to death I gladly go,
Thus be it, I have no fear to rue it,
My heart feels courage great,
Which through love it first did know.
Love’s power supreme doth imbue it,
And fearless strength is given through it.
My heart feels courage great,
Which through love it doth know.
Track 3 - L'invitation au voyage - Invitation to the Voyage
Mon enfant, ma soeur, Songe à la douceur D'aller là-bas vivre ensemble! Aimer à loisir, Aimer et mourir Au pays qui te ressemble!
Les soleils mouillés De ces ciels brouillés Pour mon esprit ont les charmes Si mystérieux De tes traîtres yeux, Brillant à travers leurs larmes.
Là, tout n'est qu'ordre et beauté, Luxe, calme et volupté.
Des meubles luisants, Polis par les ans, Décoreraient notre chambre; Les plus rares fleurs Mêlant leurs odeurs Aux vagues senteurs de l'ambre, Les riches plafonds, Les miroirs profonds, La splendeur orientale, Tout y parlerait À l'âme en secret Sa douce langue natale.
Là, tout n'est qu'ordre et beauté, Luxe, calme et volupté.
Vois sur ces canaux Dormir ces vaisseaux Dont l'humeur est vagabonde; C'est pour assouvir Ton moindre désir Qu'ils viennent du bout du monde.
Les soleils couchants Revêtent les champs, Les canaux, la ville entière, D'hyacinthe et d'or; Le monde s'endort Dans une chaude lumière.
Là, tout n'est qu'ordre et beauté, Luxe, calme et volupté.
Invitation to the Voyage My daughter, my sister, Consider the vista Of living out there, you and I, To love at our leisure, Then, ending our pleasure, In climes you resemble to die.
There the suns, rainy-wet, Through clouds rise and set With the selfsame enchantment to charm me That my senses receive From your eyes, that deceive, When they shine through your tears to disarm me.
There'll be nothing but beauty, wealth, pleasure, With all things in order and measure.
With old treasures furnished, By centuries burnished, To gleam in the shade of our chamber, While the rarest of flowers Vaguely mix through the hours Their own with the perfume of amber: Each sumptuous ceiling, Each mirror revealing The wealth of the East, will be hung So the part and the whole May speak to the soul In its native, indigenous tongue.
There'll be nothing but beauty, wealth, pleasure, With all things in order and measure.
On the channels and streams See each vessel that dreams In its whimsical vagabond way, Since it’s for your least whim The oceans they swim From the ends of the night and the day. The sun, going down, With its glory will crown Canals, fields, and cities entire, While the whole earth is rolled In the jacinth and gold Of its warming and radiant fire.
There'll be nothing but beauty, wealth, pleasure With all things in order and measure.
Les soleils mouillés De ces ciels brouillés Pour mon esprit ont les charmes Si mystérieux De tes traîtres yeux, Brillant à travers leurs larmes.
Là, tout n'est qu'ordre et beauté, Luxe, calme et volupté.
Des meubles luisants, Polis par les ans, Décoreraient notre chambre; Les plus rares fleurs Mêlant leurs odeurs Aux vagues senteurs de l'ambre, Les riches plafonds, Les miroirs profonds, La splendeur orientale, Tout y parlerait À l'âme en secret Sa douce langue natale.
Là, tout n'est qu'ordre et beauté, Luxe, calme et volupté.
Vois sur ces canaux Dormir ces vaisseaux Dont l'humeur est vagabonde; C'est pour assouvir Ton moindre désir Qu'ils viennent du bout du monde.
Les soleils couchants Revêtent les champs, Les canaux, la ville entière, D'hyacinthe et d'or; Le monde s'endort Dans une chaude lumière.
Là, tout n'est qu'ordre et beauté, Luxe, calme et volupté.
Invitation to the Voyage My daughter, my sister, Consider the vista Of living out there, you and I, To love at our leisure, Then, ending our pleasure, In climes you resemble to die.
There the suns, rainy-wet, Through clouds rise and set With the selfsame enchantment to charm me That my senses receive From your eyes, that deceive, When they shine through your tears to disarm me.
There'll be nothing but beauty, wealth, pleasure, With all things in order and measure.
With old treasures furnished, By centuries burnished, To gleam in the shade of our chamber, While the rarest of flowers Vaguely mix through the hours Their own with the perfume of amber: Each sumptuous ceiling, Each mirror revealing The wealth of the East, will be hung So the part and the whole May speak to the soul In its native, indigenous tongue.
There'll be nothing but beauty, wealth, pleasure, With all things in order and measure.
On the channels and streams See each vessel that dreams In its whimsical vagabond way, Since it’s for your least whim The oceans they swim From the ends of the night and the day. The sun, going down, With its glory will crown Canals, fields, and cities entire, While the whole earth is rolled In the jacinth and gold Of its warming and radiant fire.
There'll be nothing but beauty, wealth, pleasure With all things in order and measure.
Track 4 - Dolente immagine di Fille mia - Sorrowful image of my Fille
Dolente immagine di Fille mia
Dolente immagine di Fille mia,
perché sì squallida mi siedi accanto?
Che più desideri? Dirotto pianto
io sul tuo cenere versai finor.
Temi che immemore de' sacri giuri
io possa accendermi ad altra face?
Ombra di Fillide, riposa in pace;
è inestinguibile l'antico ardor
Sorrowful image of my Fille Sorrowful image of my Fille,
Why do you sit so dreary beside me?
What more do you desire?
Copious tears
I have poured upon your ashes up to now.
Do you fear that, forgetful of the sacred vows
I could be ignited to another flame?
Shock of Fillide, rest in peace;
The old passion is inextinguishable.
Dolente immagine di Fille mia,
perché sì squallida mi siedi accanto?
Che più desideri? Dirotto pianto
io sul tuo cenere versai finor.
Temi che immemore de' sacri giuri
io possa accendermi ad altra face?
Ombra di Fillide, riposa in pace;
è inestinguibile l'antico ardor
Sorrowful image of my Fille Sorrowful image of my Fille,
Why do you sit so dreary beside me?
What more do you desire?
Copious tears
I have poured upon your ashes up to now.
Do you fear that, forgetful of the sacred vows
I could be ignited to another flame?
Shock of Fillide, rest in peace;
The old passion is inextinguishable.
Track 6 - Allerseelen - All Soul’s Day
Allerseelen
Stell auf den Tisch die duftenden Reseden, Die letzten roten Astern trag herbei, Und laß uns wieder von der Liebe reden, Wie einst im Mai.
Gib mir die Hand, daß ich sie heimlich drücke Und wenn man's sieht, mir ist es einerlei, Gib mir nur einen deiner süßen Blicke, Wie einst im Mai.
Es blüht und funkelt heut auf jedem Grabe, Ein Tag im Jahr ist ja den Toten frei, Komm an mein Herz, daß ich dich wieder habe, Wie einst im Mai.
All Soul’s Day
Bring in the mignonettes' fragrant spires, the last red asters on the table lay, and let again us speak of love's desires, like once in May.
Give me your hand in furtive, sweet advances - if people see it, mind not what they say: Give me just one of your delighting glances, like once in May.
Today the graves are full of lights and flowers, one day a year the dead shall hold their sway: Spend on my heart again those lovely hours, like once in May.
Stell auf den Tisch die duftenden Reseden, Die letzten roten Astern trag herbei, Und laß uns wieder von der Liebe reden, Wie einst im Mai.
Gib mir die Hand, daß ich sie heimlich drücke Und wenn man's sieht, mir ist es einerlei, Gib mir nur einen deiner süßen Blicke, Wie einst im Mai.
Es blüht und funkelt heut auf jedem Grabe, Ein Tag im Jahr ist ja den Toten frei, Komm an mein Herz, daß ich dich wieder habe, Wie einst im Mai.
All Soul’s Day
Bring in the mignonettes' fragrant spires, the last red asters on the table lay, and let again us speak of love's desires, like once in May.
Give me your hand in furtive, sweet advances - if people see it, mind not what they say: Give me just one of your delighting glances, like once in May.
Today the graves are full of lights and flowers, one day a year the dead shall hold their sway: Spend on my heart again those lovely hours, like once in May.
Track 8 - Chi il bel sogno di Doretta - Doretta's beautiful dream
Chi il bel sogno di Doretta
Chi il bel sogno di Doretta Potè indovinar?
Il suo mister come mai Come mai fini
Ahimè! un giorno uno studente In bocca la baciò E fu quel bacio Rivelazione: Fu la passione!
Folle amore! Folle ebbrezza! Chi la sottil carezza D'un bacio cosi ardente Mai ridir potrà?
Ah! mio sogno! Ah! mia vita!
Che importa la ricchezza Se alfine è rifiorita La felicità! O sogno d'or Poter amar così!
like once in May.
Doretta's beautiful dreamWho could guess The beautiful dream Doretta had? Why her mystery Came to an end
One day a student Kissed her on the mouth And that kiss Was the revelation: It was the passion! Mad love! Mad happiness! Who will ever be able again To describe the light caress Of a kiss so burning?
Oh! My dream! Oh! My life!
Who cares for wealth If at last happiness flourishes! Oh golden dream To be able to love In this way!
Chi il bel sogno di Doretta Potè indovinar?
Il suo mister come mai Come mai fini
Ahimè! un giorno uno studente In bocca la baciò E fu quel bacio Rivelazione: Fu la passione!
Folle amore! Folle ebbrezza! Chi la sottil carezza D'un bacio cosi ardente Mai ridir potrà?
Ah! mio sogno! Ah! mia vita!
Che importa la ricchezza Se alfine è rifiorita La felicità! O sogno d'or Poter amar così!
like once in May.
Doretta's beautiful dreamWho could guess The beautiful dream Doretta had? Why her mystery Came to an end
One day a student Kissed her on the mouth And that kiss Was the revelation: It was the passion! Mad love! Mad happiness! Who will ever be able again To describe the light caress Of a kiss so burning?
Oh! My dream! Oh! My life!
Who cares for wealth If at last happiness flourishes! Oh golden dream To be able to love In this way!
Track 9 - Barcarolle
Barcarolle
Belle nuit, ô nuit d'amour, Souris à nos ivresses, Nuit plus douce que le jour, Ô belle nuit d'amour!
Le temps fuit et sans retour Emporte nos tendresses, Loin de cet heureux séjour Le temps fuit sans retour.
Zéphyrs embrasés, Versez-nous vos caresses, Zéphyrs embrasés, Donnez-nous vos baisers! vos baisers! vos baisers! Ah!
Barcarolle
Lovely night, oh night of love, smile upon our joys! Night much sweeter than the day, oh beautiful night of love!!
Time flies by, and carries away our tender caresses for ever! Time flies far from this happy oasis and does not return. Burning zephyrs, embrace us with your caresses! Burning zephyrs, give us your kisses! Your kisses! Your kisses! Ah!
Belle nuit, ô nuit d'amour, Souris à nos ivresses, Nuit plus douce que le jour, Ô belle nuit d'amour!
Le temps fuit et sans retour Emporte nos tendresses, Loin de cet heureux séjour Le temps fuit sans retour.
Zéphyrs embrasés, Versez-nous vos caresses, Zéphyrs embrasés, Donnez-nous vos baisers! vos baisers! vos baisers! Ah!
Barcarolle
Lovely night, oh night of love, smile upon our joys! Night much sweeter than the day, oh beautiful night of love!!
Time flies by, and carries away our tender caresses for ever! Time flies far from this happy oasis and does not return. Burning zephyrs, embrace us with your caresses! Burning zephyrs, give us your kisses! Your kisses! Your kisses! Ah!
Track 10 - Sous le dôme épais - Under the thick dome
Sous le dôme épais
Sous le dôme épais
Où le blanc jasmin
À la rose s’assemble
Sur la rive en fleurs,
Riant au matin
Viens, descendons ensemble.
Doucement glissons de son flot charmant
Suivons le courant fuyant
Dans l’onde frémissante
D’une main nonchalante
Viens, gagnons le bord,
Où la source dort et
L’oiseau, l’oiseau chante.
Sous le dôme épais
Où le blanc jasmin,
Ah! Descendons
Ensemble.
Under the thick dome Under the thick dome where the white jasmine
With the roses entwined together
On the river bank covered with flowers laughing in the morning
Let us descend together!
Gently floating on its charming risings,
On the river’s current
On the shining waves,
One hand reaches,
Reaches for the bank,
Where the spring sleeps,
And the bird, the bird sings.
Under the thick dome where the white jasmine
Ah! calling us
Together!
Sous le dôme épais
Où le blanc jasmin
À la rose s’assemble
Sur la rive en fleurs,
Riant au matin
Viens, descendons ensemble.
Doucement glissons de son flot charmant
Suivons le courant fuyant
Dans l’onde frémissante
D’une main nonchalante
Viens, gagnons le bord,
Où la source dort et
L’oiseau, l’oiseau chante.
Sous le dôme épais
Où le blanc jasmin,
Ah! Descendons
Ensemble.
Under the thick dome Under the thick dome where the white jasmine
With the roses entwined together
On the river bank covered with flowers laughing in the morning
Let us descend together!
Gently floating on its charming risings,
On the river’s current
On the shining waves,
One hand reaches,
Reaches for the bank,
Where the spring sleeps,
And the bird, the bird sings.
Under the thick dome where the white jasmine
Ah! calling us
Together!
Track 11 - Cinco canciones Negras - I. Cuba Dentro De Un Piano
I. Cuba Dentro De Un Piano
Poem by Rafael Alberti
Cuando mi madre llevaba
un sorbete de fresa por sombrero,
y el humo de los barcos
aún era humo de habanero,
Mulata vuelta abajera,
Cádiz se adormecía
entre fandangos y habaneras,
y un lorito al piano
quería hacer de tenor.
Dime donde está la flor
Que el hombre tanto venera.
Mi tio Antonio volvía
Con su aire de insurrecto.
La Canbaña y el Principe sonaban
por los patios del Puerto.
Ya no brilla la Perla azul del mar de las Antillas.
Ya se apagó se nos ha muerto.
Me encontré con la bella Trinidad:
Cuba se había perdido;
y ahora era verdad, era verdad;
no era mentira.
Un cañonero huido llegó
Cantándolo en guajiras.
La Habana ya se perdió.
Tuvo la culpa el dinero.
Calló, cayó el cañonero.
Pero después,
Pero ah después
Fue cuando al ―Sí‖lo hicieron ―Yes‖
ya se perdió.
Tuvo la culpa el dinero.
Calló, cayó el cañonero.
Pero después,
Pero ah después
Fue cuando al ―Sí‖lo hicieron ―Yes‖
I. Cuba Inside a Piano When my mother wore
a strawberry sorbet for a hat,
and the smoke of the ships
was still smoke from cigars,
from dark Vuelta Abajo leaves,
Cadiz went to sleep
between fandangos and habaneras
and a small parrot at the piano
tried to sing tenor.
Tell me where the flower is
that man so intently worships.
My uncle Antonio returned
with his insurrectionist air.
The Cabañ and the Principe resounded
through the patios of the harbor.
No more shines the blue pearl of the Antillean sea.
It has gone out, it has died on us.
I ran into the beautiful Trinidad:
Cuba had been lost;
And now it is true, it is true,
it was no lie.
A fleeing gunboat came in
Singing the tale in guajiras.
Havana was already lost.
Money was to blame.
It fell, the gunboat fell silent.
But later
Ah, but later
When they took ―Si‖and turned it into ―Yes‖
Poem by Rafael Alberti
Cuando mi madre llevaba
un sorbete de fresa por sombrero,
y el humo de los barcos
aún era humo de habanero,
Mulata vuelta abajera,
Cádiz se adormecía
entre fandangos y habaneras,
y un lorito al piano
quería hacer de tenor.
Dime donde está la flor
Que el hombre tanto venera.
Mi tio Antonio volvía
Con su aire de insurrecto.
La Canbaña y el Principe sonaban
por los patios del Puerto.
Ya no brilla la Perla azul del mar de las Antillas.
Ya se apagó se nos ha muerto.
Me encontré con la bella Trinidad:
Cuba se había perdido;
y ahora era verdad, era verdad;
no era mentira.
Un cañonero huido llegó
Cantándolo en guajiras.
La Habana ya se perdió.
Tuvo la culpa el dinero.
Calló, cayó el cañonero.
Pero después,
Pero ah después
Fue cuando al ―Sí‖lo hicieron ―Yes‖
ya se perdió.
Tuvo la culpa el dinero.
Calló, cayó el cañonero.
Pero después,
Pero ah después
Fue cuando al ―Sí‖lo hicieron ―Yes‖
I. Cuba Inside a Piano When my mother wore
a strawberry sorbet for a hat,
and the smoke of the ships
was still smoke from cigars,
from dark Vuelta Abajo leaves,
Cadiz went to sleep
between fandangos and habaneras
and a small parrot at the piano
tried to sing tenor.
Tell me where the flower is
that man so intently worships.
My uncle Antonio returned
with his insurrectionist air.
The Cabañ and the Principe resounded
through the patios of the harbor.
No more shines the blue pearl of the Antillean sea.
It has gone out, it has died on us.
I ran into the beautiful Trinidad:
Cuba had been lost;
And now it is true, it is true,
it was no lie.
A fleeing gunboat came in
Singing the tale in guajiras.
Havana was already lost.
Money was to blame.
It fell, the gunboat fell silent.
But later
Ah, but later
When they took ―Si‖and turned it into ―Yes‖
Track 12 - Cinco canciones Negras - II. Punto de Habanera (Siglo XVIII)
II. Punto de Habanera (Siglo XVIII)
Poem by Néstor Luján
La niña criolla pasa
con su miriña que blanco.
Qué blanco!
Hola, crespón de tu es puma.
Marineros, contempladla!
Va mojadita de lunas
que le hacen su piel mulata.
Niña, no te quejes,
tan solo por esta tarde.
Quisierra mandar al agua.
que no se escape de pronto
de la cárcel de tu falda.
Tu cuerpo encierra esta tarde
rumor de abrir se de dalia.
Niña, no te quejes,
Tu cuerpo de fruta está
dormido en fresco brocade.
Tu cintura vibra fina
con la nobleza de un látigo.
Toda tu piel huele alegre
a limonal y a naranjo.
Los marineros te miran
y se te quedan mirando.
La niña criolla pasa
con su miriña que blanco
que blanco!
II. Habanera Strain (18th Century)
The creole girl passes by
in her white crinoline.
How white!
Hey, the crepe of your foam
Sailors, get a look at her!
She walks moist from the droplets
that are on her dark skin.
Little girl, do not worry,
all alone this evening.
I would like to order water.
not to escape too soon
from the prison of your skirt
Your body encloses this evening,
the murmur of the dahlia opening.
Little girl, do not fret,
Your body is fruit
asleep in the embroidered breeze.
Your waist quivers finely
with the nobility of a whip.
All your skin smells joyfully
of lemon and orange.
The sailors look at you
and they keep looking at you.
The creole girl goes by
with her white crinoline
how white!
Poem by Néstor Luján
La niña criolla pasa
con su miriña que blanco.
Qué blanco!
Hola, crespón de tu es puma.
Marineros, contempladla!
Va mojadita de lunas
que le hacen su piel mulata.
Niña, no te quejes,
tan solo por esta tarde.
Quisierra mandar al agua.
que no se escape de pronto
de la cárcel de tu falda.
Tu cuerpo encierra esta tarde
rumor de abrir se de dalia.
Niña, no te quejes,
Tu cuerpo de fruta está
dormido en fresco brocade.
Tu cintura vibra fina
con la nobleza de un látigo.
Toda tu piel huele alegre
a limonal y a naranjo.
Los marineros te miran
y se te quedan mirando.
La niña criolla pasa
con su miriña que blanco
que blanco!
II. Habanera Strain (18th Century)
The creole girl passes by
in her white crinoline.
How white!
Hey, the crepe of your foam
Sailors, get a look at her!
She walks moist from the droplets
that are on her dark skin.
Little girl, do not worry,
all alone this evening.
I would like to order water.
not to escape too soon
from the prison of your skirt
Your body encloses this evening,
the murmur of the dahlia opening.
Little girl, do not fret,
Your body is fruit
asleep in the embroidered breeze.
Your waist quivers finely
with the nobility of a whip.
All your skin smells joyfully
of lemon and orange.
The sailors look at you
and they keep looking at you.
The creole girl goes by
with her white crinoline
how white!
Track 13 - Cinco canciones Negras - III. Chévere
III. Chévere
by Nicolás Guillén
Chévere del navajazo
se vuelve él mismo navaja.
Pica tajadas de luna,
más la luna se le acaba;
pica tajadas de sombra
más la sombra se le acaba;
pica tajadas de canto,
más la canto se le acaba,
y entonces, pica que pica
carne de su negra mala!
III. The Man with a Knife Cavalier of the knife thrust
turns himself into a knife.
He cuts the moon up in slices,
but he runs out of moon;
he cuts shadows in slices,
but he runs out of shadows;
he cuts songs up in slices,
but he runs out of songs,
and then he slashes away
at the flesh of his bad black woman!
by Nicolás Guillén
Chévere del navajazo
se vuelve él mismo navaja.
Pica tajadas de luna,
más la luna se le acaba;
pica tajadas de sombra
más la sombra se le acaba;
pica tajadas de canto,
más la canto se le acaba,
y entonces, pica que pica
carne de su negra mala!
III. The Man with a Knife Cavalier of the knife thrust
turns himself into a knife.
He cuts the moon up in slices,
but he runs out of moon;
he cuts shadows in slices,
but he runs out of shadows;
he cuts songs up in slices,
but he runs out of songs,
and then he slashes away
at the flesh of his bad black woman!
Track 14 - Cinco canciones Negras - IV. Canción de cuna para dormir a un negrito
IV. Canción de cuna para dormir a un negrito
by Ildefonso Pereda Valdés
Ninghe, tan chiquitito
el negrito que no quiere dormer.
Cabeza de coco, grano de café
con lindas motitas,
con ojos grandotes
como dos ventanas que miran al mar.
Cierra los ojitos, negrito asustado;
el mandinga blanco te puede comer.
Ya no eres esclavo!
y si duermes mucho el señor de casa
promete comprar traje con botones
para ser un ―groom.
Ninghe, duérmete, negrito,
Cabeza de coco, grano de café.
IV. Lullaby for a Little Black Boy Ninghe, little tiny one
little black child who does not want to sleep.
Coconut head, coffee bean
with pretty freckles
with big eyes
like two windows overlooking the sea.
Close your little eyes, frightened boy;
the white boogey-man is going to eat you.
You are not a slave anymore!
and if you sleep a lot the master of the house
promises to buy you a suit with buttons
so you can be a groom.
Ninghe, sleep little black boy,
Coconut head, coffee bean.
by Ildefonso Pereda Valdés
Ninghe, tan chiquitito
el negrito que no quiere dormer.
Cabeza de coco, grano de café
con lindas motitas,
con ojos grandotes
como dos ventanas que miran al mar.
Cierra los ojitos, negrito asustado;
el mandinga blanco te puede comer.
Ya no eres esclavo!
y si duermes mucho el señor de casa
promete comprar traje con botones
para ser un ―groom.
Ninghe, duérmete, negrito,
Cabeza de coco, grano de café.
IV. Lullaby for a Little Black Boy Ninghe, little tiny one
little black child who does not want to sleep.
Coconut head, coffee bean
with pretty freckles
with big eyes
like two windows overlooking the sea.
Close your little eyes, frightened boy;
the white boogey-man is going to eat you.
You are not a slave anymore!
and if you sleep a lot the master of the house
promises to buy you a suit with buttons
so you can be a groom.
Ninghe, sleep little black boy,
Coconut head, coffee bean.
Track 15 - Cinco canciones Negras - V. Canto negro
V. Canto negro
by Nicolás Guillén
Yambambó, Yambambé!
Repica el congo solongo,
repica el negro bien negro.
Aoé! Congo solongo del Songo
baila yambó sobre un pié.
Yambambó! Yambambé!
Mamatomba serembé cuserembá,
el negro canta y se ajuma.
Mamatomba serembé cuserembá,
el negro se ajuma y canta.
Mamatomba serembé cuserembá,
el negro canta y se va.
Acuememe serembó aé,
yambambó aé, yambambé aó.
Tamba del negro que tumba,
tamba del negro, caramba,
caramba, que el negro tumba,
Yambá, yambó!
Yambambé, yambambó, yambambé!
Baila yambo sobre un pié!
V. Black Song Yambambó! Yambambé!
The Congo solongo struts by,
the very black man struts by.
the Congo solongo from Songo
dances the yambó on one foot.
Yambambó! Yambambé!
Mamatomba serembé cuserembá,
the black man sings and gets drunk.
Mamatomba serembé cuserembá,
the black man gets drunk and sings.
Mamatomba serembé cuserembá,
the black man sings and goes.
Acuememe serembó aé,
yambambó aé, yambambé aó.
Tamba the black man staggers,
the black man staggers, caramba,
caramba, the black man falls,
Yambá, yambó!
Yambambé, yambambó, yambambé!
he dances the yambo on one foot!
by Nicolás Guillén
Yambambó, Yambambé!
Repica el congo solongo,
repica el negro bien negro.
Aoé! Congo solongo del Songo
baila yambó sobre un pié.
Yambambó! Yambambé!
Mamatomba serembé cuserembá,
el negro canta y se ajuma.
Mamatomba serembé cuserembá,
el negro se ajuma y canta.
Mamatomba serembé cuserembá,
el negro canta y se va.
Acuememe serembó aé,
yambambó aé, yambambé aó.
Tamba del negro que tumba,
tamba del negro, caramba,
caramba, que el negro tumba,
Yambá, yambó!
Yambambé, yambambó, yambambé!
Baila yambo sobre un pié!
V. Black Song Yambambó! Yambambé!
The Congo solongo struts by,
the very black man struts by.
the Congo solongo from Songo
dances the yambó on one foot.
Yambambó! Yambambé!
Mamatomba serembé cuserembá,
the black man sings and gets drunk.
Mamatomba serembé cuserembá,
the black man gets drunk and sings.
Mamatomba serembé cuserembá,
the black man sings and goes.
Acuememe serembó aé,
yambambó aé, yambambé aó.
Tamba the black man staggers,
the black man staggers, caramba,
caramba, the black man falls,
Yambá, yambó!
Yambambé, yambambó, yambambé!
he dances the yambo on one foot!
Thank Yous - Patricia Haldane
Trisha Haldane:
I feel like I am surrounded by so many precious gifts:
The gift of a voice teacher like Lindsay who spends more time in my head than is safe and has brought me to levels of singing and performing that I never thought I could attain.
The gift of an accompanist like Steven who is beyond generous with his time, talent, and friendship; whose encouragement, laughter and support have helped me to implement and grow.
The gift of a recital partner like Trisha who allows me to be myself, who offers so much of herself and shares so effortlessly. Thank you for all the joy and goosebumps!
The many gifts of people who helped pull this all together - for Joyce Tan who did our fabulous graphic design, for the Grannies for all the support, for Sharon and the people of St. Tim's we are thankful.
The gift of wonderful family and friends, who always encourage me to share my gift. I couldn't do this without you!!
For all these blessings, I am eternally grateful.
I feel like I am surrounded by so many precious gifts:
The gift of a voice teacher like Lindsay who spends more time in my head than is safe and has brought me to levels of singing and performing that I never thought I could attain.
The gift of an accompanist like Steven who is beyond generous with his time, talent, and friendship; whose encouragement, laughter and support have helped me to implement and grow.
The gift of a recital partner like Trisha who allows me to be myself, who offers so much of herself and shares so effortlessly. Thank you for all the joy and goosebumps!
The many gifts of people who helped pull this all together - for Joyce Tan who did our fabulous graphic design, for the Grannies for all the support, for Sharon and the people of St. Tim's we are thankful.
The gift of wonderful family and friends, who always encourage me to share my gift. I couldn't do this without you!!
For all these blessings, I am eternally grateful.
Thank Yous - Trisha Gunpath
Trisha Gunpath:
A huge thank you to my husband, family and friends for always encouraging me to do my best and believing that I am capable of greatness.
Thank you to TMC who has been my second family for 20 years. You are all so special to me.
Thank you to Tricia for asking me to do this recital with her ; what do we do next bella?
Thank you to Lindsay who has the patience of a monk and is such an encourager.
http://lindsayisaac.com/
Thank you to Steven for being up to learning my song choices.
Thank you to Kingi and Nicole at Peach Berserk for my super awesome dress.
http://www.peachberserk.com/wordpress/
Thank you to Candace French who did our hair and makeup so beautifully. http://www.candacemakeup.ca/
Thank you to Yolanda Tran for her design of the programme and willingness to always help.
Thank you to Joseph, our sound engineer.
Thank you to you, our audience.
But for right now,…we have three things to do…: Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love.
1 Corinthians 13 :13 The Message
A huge thank you to my husband, family and friends for always encouraging me to do my best and believing that I am capable of greatness.
Thank you to TMC who has been my second family for 20 years. You are all so special to me.
Thank you to Tricia for asking me to do this recital with her ; what do we do next bella?
Thank you to Lindsay who has the patience of a monk and is such an encourager.
http://lindsayisaac.com/
Thank you to Steven for being up to learning my song choices.
Thank you to Kingi and Nicole at Peach Berserk for my super awesome dress.
http://www.peachberserk.com/wordpress/
Thank you to Candace French who did our hair and makeup so beautifully. http://www.candacemakeup.ca/
Thank you to Yolanda Tran for her design of the programme and willingness to always help.
Thank you to Joseph, our sound engineer.
Thank you to you, our audience.
But for right now,…we have three things to do…: Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love.
1 Corinthians 13 :13 The Message
Original Programme
PROGRAMME
TG – Trisha Gunpath
TH – Tricia Haldane
Sull’Aria Duet From The Marriage of Figaro Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
Divinités du Styx TH
From Alceste
Christoph Willibald Gluck
Manners At A Concert TG From Miss Manners On Music Dominick Argento
L'invitation au voyage TH Music: Henri Duparc
Poem: Charles Baudelaire
Dolente immagine di Fille mia TH
Vincenzo Bellini
Allerseelen TH
Richard Strauss
Sleep Now TG Music: Samuel Barber
Poem: James Joyce
Chi il bel sogno di Doretta TH
From La Rondine
Giuseppe Puccini
Barcarolle Duet
From: Les contes d'Hoffmann Jacques Offenbach
INTERMISSION – 15 MINUTES
Sous le dôme épais Duet
From Lakmé Leo Delibes
Cinco canciones negras TG
Xavier Montsalvatge
**Please hold all applause throughout cycle**
I. Cuba dentro de un piano
II. Punto de habanera
III. Chévere
IV. Canción de cuna para dormir a un negrito
V. Canto negro
Amor TH
From Cabaret Songs
William Bolcom
Stars & The Moon TH
Jason Robert Brown
Summertime TG
From Porgy and Bess
George Gershwin
Deep River TH
Arranged by Harry T. Burleigh
Heav'n, Heav'n TG
Arranged by Harry T. Burleigh
Steal Away Duet Arranged by Tony Dawson
TG – Trisha Gunpath
TH – Tricia Haldane
Sull’Aria Duet From The Marriage of Figaro Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
Divinités du Styx TH
From Alceste
Christoph Willibald Gluck
Manners At A Concert TG From Miss Manners On Music Dominick Argento
L'invitation au voyage TH Music: Henri Duparc
Poem: Charles Baudelaire
Dolente immagine di Fille mia TH
Vincenzo Bellini
Allerseelen TH
Richard Strauss
Sleep Now TG Music: Samuel Barber
Poem: James Joyce
Chi il bel sogno di Doretta TH
From La Rondine
Giuseppe Puccini
Barcarolle Duet
From: Les contes d'Hoffmann Jacques Offenbach
INTERMISSION – 15 MINUTES
Sous le dôme épais Duet
From Lakmé Leo Delibes
Cinco canciones negras TG
Xavier Montsalvatge
**Please hold all applause throughout cycle**
I. Cuba dentro de un piano
II. Punto de habanera
III. Chévere
IV. Canción de cuna para dormir a un negrito
V. Canto negro
Amor TH
From Cabaret Songs
William Bolcom
Stars & The Moon TH
Jason Robert Brown
Summertime TG
From Porgy and Bess
George Gershwin
Deep River TH
Arranged by Harry T. Burleigh
Heav'n, Heav'n TG
Arranged by Harry T. Burleigh
Steal Away Duet Arranged by Tony Dawson
The Charities - Stephen Lewis Foundation - Toronto Mass Choir
Toronto Mass Choir
The Toronto Mass Choir (TMC) continues to be on the cutting edge of the Canadian gospel music scene bringing their distinct gospel sound to the world stage.
TMC’s music incorporates contemporary gospel, traditional gospel and Caribbean music influences. In particular, TMC’s combination of gospel lyrics with a variety of musical styles has resulted in a style unique in Canada.
The release of their seventh album in 2010, A Christmas Gift, marked the first Contemporary Gospel Choir Christmas CD release in Canada and showcases TMC at its best.
Karen Burke, a graduate of McMaster University, the Royal Conservatory of Music and a Professor of music at York University, is the director of the diversified group of singers and musicians along with her husband, Oswald Burke, who is their Executive Producer. ―Toronto Mass Choir is proof that Gospel music is alive and well in Canada and it is has been our privilege to share the Good News of the Gospel for over 20 years,‖ said Burke. She also conducts numerous gospel music workshops in Canada and internationally.
Now 30-strong plus a four-piece band, the not for profit choir consists of members between their 20s and 50s who are from various local church denominations including Baptist, Church of God, Wesleyan, Missionary, and Pentecostal.
TMC’s travels abroad have taken them to several different countries including Poland, Romania, Italy and Barbados.
TMC has some special concerts coming up in December that you may be interested in attending:
Saturday, December 10, 2 pm
Toronto Christmas Market at The Distillery District
Tuesday, December 13 – Noon
Choir and Organ Series with Organist, Chris Dawes at Roy Thomson Hall
Saturday, December 17 – 2 & 7:30 pm
A Gospel Christmas with the Hamilton Philharmonic Orchestra at Hamilton Place
For more info, please visit www.tmc.ca.
The Toronto Mass Choir (TMC) continues to be on the cutting edge of the Canadian gospel music scene bringing their distinct gospel sound to the world stage.
TMC’s music incorporates contemporary gospel, traditional gospel and Caribbean music influences. In particular, TMC’s combination of gospel lyrics with a variety of musical styles has resulted in a style unique in Canada.
The release of their seventh album in 2010, A Christmas Gift, marked the first Contemporary Gospel Choir Christmas CD release in Canada and showcases TMC at its best.
Karen Burke, a graduate of McMaster University, the Royal Conservatory of Music and a Professor of music at York University, is the director of the diversified group of singers and musicians along with her husband, Oswald Burke, who is their Executive Producer. ―Toronto Mass Choir is proof that Gospel music is alive and well in Canada and it is has been our privilege to share the Good News of the Gospel for over 20 years,‖ said Burke. She also conducts numerous gospel music workshops in Canada and internationally.
Now 30-strong plus a four-piece band, the not for profit choir consists of members between their 20s and 50s who are from various local church denominations including Baptist, Church of God, Wesleyan, Missionary, and Pentecostal.
TMC’s travels abroad have taken them to several different countries including Poland, Romania, Italy and Barbados.
TMC has some special concerts coming up in December that you may be interested in attending:
Saturday, December 10, 2 pm
Toronto Christmas Market at The Distillery District
Tuesday, December 13 – Noon
Choir and Organ Series with Organist, Chris Dawes at Roy Thomson Hall
Saturday, December 17 – 2 & 7:30 pm
A Gospel Christmas with the Hamilton Philharmonic Orchestra at Hamilton Place
For more info, please visit www.tmc.ca.
The Charities - Stephen Lewis Foundation - Grandmothers to Grandmothers campaign
The Stephen Lewis Foundation
Grandmothers Campaign
The Stephen Lewis Foundation
launched the Grandmothers to Grandmothers Campaign in March 2006, in response to the emerging crisis faced by African grandmothers as they struggled to care for millions of children orphaned by AIDS. What began with only a few groups of committed Canadian grandmothers has since evolved into a dynamic and responsive movement, made up of grandmothers and grandothers working to mobilize support in Canada for Africa’s grandmothers.
The Campaign currently boasts more than 240 grandmother groups across the country. Many of the groups have organized into regional and national networks in order to support each other’s development, fundraising and advocacy networks.
Funds from the Grandmothers Campaign are used to support African grandmothers with food, health care, school fees and school uniforms for their grandchildren, income-generating programmes, counselling, social support, essential shelter, and other necessities. Throughout Africa, grassroots organizations run by and for grandmothers are sharing insights, deepening their expertise, collaborating with other local organizations, and
building their capacity to turn the tide of AIDS at community level.
For more information, please visit www.stephenlewisfoundation.org.
Grandmothers Campaign
The Stephen Lewis Foundation
launched the Grandmothers to Grandmothers Campaign in March 2006, in response to the emerging crisis faced by African grandmothers as they struggled to care for millions of children orphaned by AIDS. What began with only a few groups of committed Canadian grandmothers has since evolved into a dynamic and responsive movement, made up of grandmothers and grandothers working to mobilize support in Canada for Africa’s grandmothers.
The Campaign currently boasts more than 240 grandmother groups across the country. Many of the groups have organized into regional and national networks in order to support each other’s development, fundraising and advocacy networks.
Funds from the Grandmothers Campaign are used to support African grandmothers with food, health care, school fees and school uniforms for their grandchildren, income-generating programmes, counselling, social support, essential shelter, and other necessities. Throughout Africa, grassroots organizations run by and for grandmothers are sharing insights, deepening their expertise, collaborating with other local organizations, and
building their capacity to turn the tide of AIDS at community level.
For more information, please visit www.stephenlewisfoundation.org.
Bio - Steven Kettlewell
Steven Kettlewell
Pianist
The first time Steven accompanied a singer was in a cramped practice room a couple of days after he started as a first year music student at the University of Western Ontario.
As it turned out, almost all the people he found himself befriending were voice majors.
It didn’t take long before he was accompanying them for lessons, master classes and juries. That’s when he discovered the vocal repertoire and fell in love with it.
Pianist
The first time Steven accompanied a singer was in a cramped practice room a couple of days after he started as a first year music student at the University of Western Ontario.
As it turned out, almost all the people he found himself befriending were voice majors.
It didn’t take long before he was accompanying them for lessons, master classes and juries. That’s when he discovered the vocal repertoire and fell in love with it.
Bio - Patricia Haldane
Patricia Haldane
Dramatic Soprano
Patricia’s mother claims Tricia was hitting a high ―C‖ the moment that she came into the world, and she hasn’t stopped since!
Tricia has portrayed Marcellina in Mozart’s Marriage of Figaro, Tisbe in Rossini’s Cenerentola and Principessa in Puccini’s Suor Angelica. In the past she has sung with The Toronto Mendelssohn Choir and Calvin Presbyterian Choir, the latter of which placed second in 2000 and third in 2004 in the CBC choral competition. In 2002 she also toured with Calvin in Scotland, and participated in Calvin’s critically-acclaimed CD, Reformation and Renaissance: Psalms, Motets and Dances.
Tricia has been a soloist with Calvin Presbyterian, Deer Park United, St. Timothy’s Anglican and St. Simon's Anglican. Tricia has sung under numerous batons and is a celebrated recitalist specializing in spirituals.
In her spare time Tricia has been involved with Toronto Habitat for Humanity since 2001 and was a House Leader for the WRP Women’s Build Blitz in 2009.
Dramatic Soprano
Patricia’s mother claims Tricia was hitting a high ―C‖ the moment that she came into the world, and she hasn’t stopped since!
Tricia has portrayed Marcellina in Mozart’s Marriage of Figaro, Tisbe in Rossini’s Cenerentola and Principessa in Puccini’s Suor Angelica. In the past she has sung with The Toronto Mendelssohn Choir and Calvin Presbyterian Choir, the latter of which placed second in 2000 and third in 2004 in the CBC choral competition. In 2002 she also toured with Calvin in Scotland, and participated in Calvin’s critically-acclaimed CD, Reformation and Renaissance: Psalms, Motets and Dances.
Tricia has been a soloist with Calvin Presbyterian, Deer Park United, St. Timothy’s Anglican and St. Simon's Anglican. Tricia has sung under numerous batons and is a celebrated recitalist specializing in spirituals.
In her spare time Tricia has been involved with Toronto Habitat for Humanity since 2001 and was a House Leader for the WRP Women’s Build Blitz in 2009.
Bio - Trisha Gunpath
Trisha Gunpath
Soprano
After her big solo break singing once verse of a carol in the Children’s Christmas musical at her church in Grade 6 (Thanks Mrs. Norcross!), Trisha began singing with the Toronto Children's Chorus in Grade 8. While she was already a pianist, she realized that singing was where her passion lay. She graduated from the voice program at Cardinal Carter Academy for the Arts, then went on to obtain her Bachelor of Fine Arts in music from York University. She has been a member of the Gospel choir Toronto Mass Choir www.tmc.ca since 1992, and was with the Nathaniel Dett Chorale www.nathanieldettchorale.org from 2001 - 2010. Soprano
Over the years, she has been blessed to travel to Trinidad, Barbados, France, England, Romania and Poland in addition to across Canada and the US as a singer with these groups. She serves as the Communications Coordinator and on the committee for the Toronto Mass Choir.
In 2007 she trained as a Special Effects Makeup Artist, and also loves expressing herself through this form of art. While making brides beautiful is always nice, she prefers working on special effects projects to make people look strange, elderly and bloody. She has yet to meet a bride who wants to be a zombie on her wedding day, but hasn't given up hope that this may happen.
This is her first solo recital, but hopefully not her last.
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