In xóchitl, in cuícatl - Flor y canto - School of Music

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In xóchitl, in cuícatl - Flor y canto - School of Music
n
Tango
A stealth minute has fallen from the moon
drawing back my steps to the invisible dream.
The cloud has killed every corner with glass sponge
and the overnight thaw was cracked.
I rested in your forehead with the naked night.
In the spume dreamed by the wind your blue voice:
the sea, the sea and the sea between my lips.
The last blood that waits for me, behind the last shadow.
G U E S T A R T I S T R E C I TA L
Universidad Autónoma de México – Facultad Nacional de Música
In xóchitl, in cuícatl - Flor y canto
Flower and song
Canción desesperada
¡Dónde estará mi corazón si siento dentro de mi latir la soledad!
¡Dónde estarán mis ojos, si la nieve es la sola palabra que me das!
¡Ay de mis ojos sin mirar el cielo!
¡Ay de mis labios en la sed del mar!
¡Donde estarán mis lágrimas si el viento es un llanto sin fin
y una larga cadena de ceniza que llora sin llorar!...
Song of despair
Where will be my heart if I feel to beat the loneliness inside of me!
Where will be my eyes if snow is the only word you give me!
Poor of my eyes without watching the sky!
Poor of my lips with this thirst of sea!
Where will be my tears if the wind is an endless cry
and a long chain of ash that cries without crying.
– Texts and translations provided by the artist
•••
La Sede UNAM Tucson está conmemorando su primer aniversario de su creación,
derivado de un acuerdo entre la Universidad de Arizona y la Universidad
Nacional de Mexico. Es un gran honor para nosotros tener esta
celebración en el marco de este maravilloso Concierto de Otoño,
“In Xóchitl, in Cuícatl - Flor y Canto” con artistas invitados
de la Facultad Nacional de Música de la UNAM.
UNAM Tucson Headquarters is celebrating its first anniversary of its creation
derived from an agreement between the University of Arizona and the
National University of Mexico. It is a great honor for us to frame our
celebration as part of this wonderful Autumm Concert,
“In Xochitl, in Cuícatl - Flor y Canto (Flower and Song)”
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Rebeca Samaniego, mezzo-soprano
Ángel Medina, viola
Gabriela Pérez Acosta, piano
Saturday, October 22, 2016
Crowder Hall
7:30 p.m.
COLLEGE OF FINE AR TS
Fred Fox School of Music
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Guest Artist Recital
Universidad Autónoma de México - Facultad Nacional de Música
Rebeca Samaniego, mezzo-soprano
Ángel Medina, viola
Gabriela Pérez-Acosta, piano
Saturday, October 22, 2016
Crowder Hall
7:30 p.m.
Ángel Medina González, viola & Gabriela Pérez-Acosta, piano
Canción en el puerto.............................................. Joaquín Gutiérrez Heras
(1927-2012)
Puentes............................................................................. Mario Kuri-Aldana
Blues(1931-2013)
Improvisando
Jazz
Canto Antiguo
Corrido
Niña muy pequeña................................................................... Javier Montiel
Cambios de piel
(b. 1954)
Inventando que vivo
Azul ..................................................................................Eduardo Gamboa (b. 1960)
Tango.................................................................................Eugenio Toussaint (1954-2011)
INTERMISSION
Rebeca Samaniego, mezzo-soprano & Gabriela Pérez-Acosta, piano
Canciones a la madre muerta (1971)........................................Blas Galindo
Elías Nandino
(1910-1993)
Tu silencio
Tu vida flotante
Si tu presencia perdí
Amoroso torbellino
Ausencia
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Et mon âme et mon cœur en délires
Ne sont plus qu’une espèce d’œil double
Où tremblote à travers un jour trouble
L’ariette, hélas ! de toutes lyres !
Ô mourir de cette mort seulette
Que s’en vont, cher amour qui t’épeures, Balançant jeunes et vieilles heures !
Ô mourir de cette escarpolette !
Through a whisper I make out
The subtle outline of ancient voices
And in the musician glimmers,
Pale love, a future sunrise!
And delirious, my soul and my heart
Are now nothing more than some double eye
Where does tremble, through a blurred day,
The ariette, alas! of every lyre?
Oh, to die of this lonely death
How they leave - dear love scaring you Making young and older hours sway
Oh, to die of this swing!
Tres Poemas de Jorge González Durán
Sueño
Llega el sueño deslizado, llega la noche a mis ojos,
y en el sueño estoy soñando que soy un marino roto;
pedazos de mar, de labios, de brazos náufragos toco;
es que estoy, estoy soñando que en el olvido me olvidas,
que me olvidas las olas entre negras margaritas que deshojo.
Dream
A slipped sleep comes, night falls deeply in my eyes,
and I dream in my dream that I am a broken sailor;
pieces of see, of lips and shipwrecked broken arms I touch;
So I am dreaming that I am forgotten by you,
forgotten among waves and black daisies that I defoliate.
Tango
Un minuto en sigilo ha caído de la luna
descorriendo mis pasos hasta el sueño invisible.
La nube daba muerte a los rincones con su esponja de vidrio
y el nocturno deshielo se quebraba.
Con la noche desnuda descansaba en tu frente.
En la espuma soñada por el viento tu voz azul:
el mar, el mar y el mar entre mis labios.
En la última sangre que me espera, tras la última sombra.
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n
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Six Mélodies (2000-2003)....................................................... Federico Ibarra
Verlaine
(b. 1946)
Claire de lune
C’est l’extase
Mandoline
Il pleut doucemente
En sourdine
Je devine
Parmi les vagues langueurs
Des pins et des arbousiers.
Ferme tes yeux à demi,
Croise tes bras sur ton sein,
Et de ton cœur endormi
Chasse à jamais tout dessein.
Laissons-nous persuader
Au souffle berceur et doux
Qui vient, à tes pieds, rider
Les ondes des gazons roux.
Tres poemas (de González Durán) (1950)..........Carlos Jiménez Mabarak
Sueño
(1916-1994)
Tango
Canción desesperada
Et quand, solennel, le soir
Des chênes noirs tombera
Voix de notre désespoir,
Le rossignol chantera.
Please join us for a reception in the Green Room
following the performance.
Muted
Calm in the half-day
That the high branches make,
Let us soak well our love
In this profound silence.
Let us mingle our souls, our hearts
And our ecstatic senses
Among the vague langours
Of the pines and the bushes.
Close your eyes halfway,
Cross your arms on your breast,
And from your sleeping heart
Chase away forever all plans.
Let us abandon ourselves
To the breeze, rocking and soft,
Which comes to your feet to wrinkle
The waves of auburn lawns.
And when, solemnly, the evening
From the black oaks falls,
The voice of our despair,
The nightingale, will sing.
•••
This event is co-sponsored by
The Consulate of Mexico in Tucson
Centro de Estudios Mexicanos – UNAM Tucson
and the Alan C. and Daveen Fox Endowed Chair
at the University of Arizona Fred Fox School of Music
Je devine, à travers un murmure
Je devine, à travers un murmure,
Le contour subtil des voix anciennes
Et dans les lueurs musiciennes,
Amour pâle, une aurore future !
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N
n
REBECA SAMANIEGO graduated from UNAM’s National School
of Music as a singer. She has participated as a soloist in various cultural
venues in Mexico, Spain, Belgium, Luxembourg and France. Her musical
repertoire spans from the Baroque to twenty and twenty-first century
styles, including oratorio, lied, mélodie, opera, operetta, musical comedy
and Mexican music. Ms. Samaniego won first place in the 2005 Francisco
Araiza Competition and won the stage creators FONCA 2009-2010
scholarship. She was an intern in the opera workshop at the International
Society of Mexican Art Exchange (SIVAM) and the Centro Nacional de las
Artes Chamber Choir. She is a member of the National Institute of Fine
Arts (INBA) Soloists Ensemble, led by Rufino Montero. Her teachers
have included Katherine Ciecinski, Maureen O’Flynn, Joan Dornemann,
Denise Massé, Teresa Rodríguez, André Dos Santos, Corradina Caporello,
Jorge Parodi and many others. Since 2009 she regularly works with
pianist Gabriela Pérez-Acosta, with whom she has released the works
of famous Mexican composers as well as focusing on promoting music
of women composers. Both Samaniego and Perez-Acosta are recognized
for their work in the contemporary music field.
Born in Mexico City, ÁNGEL MEDINA began music studies at UNAM’s
National School of Music under the tutelage of eminent violinist Manuel
Suárez Ángeles, with whom he studied until graduation. Along with
violin studies, Mr. Medina began studying viola with Gellya Dubrova.
From 1988 to 2001 he was part of the Hidalgo Symphony Orchestra
under the baton of Fernando Lozano. He was co-principal violist of the
Symphony Orchestra Carlos Chávez from 2001 to 2007. He has worked
with Cuauhtémoc Rivera, Masao Kawasaki, Quartet Lark and Trio
Borodin, among others in chamber music and performance master
classes. He is currently a member of the Mexico City Philharmonic
Orchestra and has also performed with the Minería Symphony Orchestra
and the National Symphony Orchestra of Mexico. Medina is a viola
professor at UNAM’s National School of Music.
Mexican pianist GABRIELA PÉREZ-ACOSTA earned a degree
(with honors) in piano performance and continued her studies in
L’École Normale de Musique de Paris/Alfred Cortot. She has performed
as a soloist and in chamber music ensembles in Mexico, France, Cuba,
Spain and the United States. In 2008 she earned a master’s degree in
music cognition. As a researcher, she has participated in several conferences
and symposia related to music cognition and systematic musicology in
Mexico, Italy, Brazil, Argentina, Austria, Finland, Greece, Israel, England
and Finland. In 2011 she was appointed dean of faculty at UNAM’s
National School of Music, where she is currently a music theory and
chamber music professor. She also holds a research position at the
National Center for Research, Documentation and Information of Music
at CENIDIM and is currently pursuing a doctoral degree in music cognition.
N
n
Il pleut doucement sur la ville
Il pleure dans mon cœur
Comme il pleut sur la ville;
Quelle est cette langueur
Qui pénètre mon cœur?
Ô bruit doux de la pluie,
Par terre et sur les toits!
Pour un cœur qui s’ennuie,
Ô le chant de la pluie!
Il pleure sans raison
Dans ce cœur qui s’écœure.
Quoi! nulle trahison? ...
Ce deuil est sans raison.
C’est bien la pire peine,
De ne savoir pourquoi
Sans amour et sans haine
Mon cœur a tant de peine!
There is weeping in my heart
There is weeping in my heart
like the rain falling on the town.
What is this languor
that pervades my heart?
Oh the patter of the rain
on the ground and the roofs!
For a heart growing weary
oh the song of the rain!
There is weeping without cause
in this disheartened heart.
What! No betrayal?
There’s no reason for this grief.
Truly the worst pain
is not knowing why,
without love or hatred,
my heart feels so much pain.
En sourdine
Calmes dans le demi-jour
Que les branches hautes font,
Pénétrons bien notre amour
De ce silence profond.
Fondons nos âmes, nos cœurs
Et nos sens extasiés,
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n
You might say it were, under the bending stream,
The muffled sound of rolling pebbles.
This soul, which laments
And this dormant moan,
It is ours, is it not?
Is it mine tell, and yours,
Whose humble anthem we breathe
On this mild evening, so very quietly.
Mandoline
Les donneurs de sérénades
Et les belles écouteuses
Échangent des propos fades
Sous les ramures chanteuses.
n
Texts & Translations
Cinco canciones a la madre muerta – Songs to the dead mother
Poetry by Elías Nandino – English texts by Elías Nandino
Tu silencio
Desde el aire silencioso tu silencio se desprende
y sobre mi piel extiende su contacto misterioso.
Con su temblor amoroso secretamente realiza lo etéreo
que te precisa, y entre sus ondas percibo que aunque
soy cautivo de la cárcel de tu brisa.
C’est Tircis et c’est Aminte,
Et c’est l’éternel Clitandre,
Et c’est Damis qui pour mainte
Cruelle fait maint vers tendre.
Your silence
From the silent air your silence issues forth,
and over my skin spreads its mysterious contact.
With its loving tremor it secretly achieves the heavenliness
that determines you, and among its waves I perceive
that although free, I am captive of the prison of your breeze.
Tu vida flotante
En los temblores del viento, en la entraña de la altura,
en la móvil sepultura que te forma el firmamento:
Tu vida flotante siento y elevando mis sentidos
como radares hundidos en el mundo gravitar,
capto el nacer y el girar de tus cósmicos latidos.
Leurs courtes vestes de soie,
Leurs longues robes à queues,
Leur élégance, leur joie
Et leurs molles ombres bleues,
Tourbillonnent dans l’extase
D’une lune rose et grise,
Et la mandoline jase
Parmi les frissons de brise.
Mandoline
The givers of serenades
And the lovely women who listen
Exchange insipid words
Under the singing branches.
There is Thyrsis and Amyntas
And there’s the eternal Clytander,
And there’s Damis who, for many a
Heartless woman, wrote many a tender verse.
Their short silk coats,
Their long dresses with trains,
Their elegance, their joy
And their soft blue shadows,
Whirl around in the ecstasy
Of a pink and grey moon,
And the mandolin prattles
Among the shivers from the breeze.
N
Your drifting life
In the tremors of the wind, in the entrails of the heigts,
in the mobile grave that the heavens form for you:
Your drifting life I feel and raising my senses as a radar
sunken into the mute gravitate, I capture the birth
and the giration of your cosmic heart beats.
Si tu presencia perdí
Si tu presencia perdí mi corazón la ganó
porque al morirte quedo tu vida dentro de mí.
Ahora te guardo así, como a sus flores el higo
y a mi existencia te ligo en unidad tan entera
que sólo hasta cuando muera morirás también conmigo.
Si tu presencia perdí mi corazón la ganó
porque al morirte quedo tu vida dentro de mí.
If I your presence lost
If I your presence lost my heart gained it
for upon dying your life remained within me.
Now a keep you thus you as the flowers keep the fig as the flowers
and to my existence I bind you in such a complete unity
that only when I die you will also die with me.
If I your presence lost my heart gained it
for upon dying your life remained within me.
N
n
Amoroso torbellino
Rayo de luna guardado en un féretro de pino,
amoroso torbellino por la muerte sosegado.
Si tu cuerpo amortajado a mis ojos no se entrega
y tú silencio me niega tus palabras, estoy cierto
que tu espíritu despierto habita en mi sangre ciega.
Loving whirlwing
Moonbeam kept in a pine wood coffin,
loving whirlwind appeased by death.
If your shrouded body does not render itself unto my eyes
and silently denies me your words...
I am certain that your awakened spirit inhabits my blind blood.
Ausencia
¿Cómo puede ser ausencia una ausencia en que la muerte
sólo me priva de verte pero no de tu presencia?
Si llego en mi tu existencia como un lucero escondido
que íntimo y sumergido mi vida sabe alumbrar.
¿Cómo es posible pensar que al morir te has extinguido?
Absence
How can it absence be an absence where death only deprives me
of seeing you but not of your presence?
If I carry within me your existence as a hidden star that intimate
and sumerged knows how to illumine my life,
how is it possible to think that by dying you have
extinguished yourself?
Federico Ibarra – Six mélodies – By Paul Verlaine
Claire de lune
Votre âme est un paysage choisi
Que vont charmant masques et bergamasques
Jouant du luth et dansant et quasi
Tristes sous leurs déguisements fantasques.
Tout en chantant sur le mode mineur
L’amour vainqueur et la vie opportune
Ils n’ont pas l’air de croire à leur bonheur
Et leur chanson se mêle au clair de lune,
Au calme clair de lune triste et beau,
Qui fait rêver les oiseaux dans les arbres
Et sangloter d’extase les jets d’eau,
Les grands jets d’eau sveltes parmi les marbres.
N
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Moonlight
Your soul is the choicest of countries
Where charming maskers, masked shepherdesses,
Go playing their lutes and dancing, yet gently
Sad beneath fantastic disguises.
While they sing in a minor key
Of all-conquering love and careless fortune,
They seem to mistrust their own fantasy
And their song melts away in the light of the moon.
In the quiet moonlight, lovely and sad,
That makes the birds dream in the trees, all
The tall water-jets sob with ecstasies,
The slender water-jets rising from marble.
C’est l’extase languoreuse
C’est l’extase langoureuse,
C’est la fatigue amoureuse,
C’est tous les frissons des bois
Parmi l’étreinte des brises,
C’est, vers les ramures grises,
Le choeur des petites voix.
O le frêle et frais murmure !
Cela gazouille et susurre,
Cela ressemble au cri doux
Que l’herbe agitée expire...
Tu dirais, sous l’eau qui vire,
Le roulis sourd des cailloux.
Cette âme qui se lamente
En cette plainte dormante,
C’est la nôtre, n’est-ce pas ?
La mienne, dis, et la tienne,
Dont s’exhale l’humble antienne
Par ce tiède soir, tout bas ?
It is the langorous ecstasy
It is the langorous ecstasy,
It is the fatigue after love,
It is all the rustling of the wood,
In the embrace of breezes;
It is near the gray branches:
A chorus of tiny voices.
Oh, what a frail and fresh murmur!
It babbles and whispers,
It resembles the soft noise
That waving grass exhales.
N

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