Highlights

Campus News

Wildcat Weekly Minute for Nov. 17, 2011

A look at what's happening on campus this week.

Faith

Louisiana College ‘Voices’ along with LBC Call for an ‘Awakening’

Debut of project at Evangelism Conference

Sports

LC hoops teams wrap up homestand with pair of wins

Off to Ozarks, UT-Dallas next

Organizations

LC media student give to Toys for Tots

More than 100 toys will help local charity

Campus Life

February is Heart Health Awareness Month

Stay healthy and 'God Red'

Culture

All the Shakespeare you could laugh at… and more!

tlc's adaptation of 'Shakespeare Abridged' pulls out all the stops

Special Coverage

LC brings another successful ‘Follow the Star’

'Christmas on the Hill' and 'Gala' add to festive weekend

Dr. Frey, Mei-En Chou recital

by Al Quartemont

Photos from Feb. 25 event

February 25, 2010

The Louisiana College Department of Music
presents in recital

Loryn Frey, soprano
Mei-En Chou, pianist


I
From L'Enfant Prodigue (The Prodigal Son) Claude Debussy
L'année en vain chasse (1862-1918)
Year pursues empty year! With each returning season, their games and frolics sadden me despite myself: they reopen my wound and my grief increases... I come to seek out the solitary beach...Involuntary pain! Useless efforts! Lia weeps continually for the child she no longer has! Azaël! Azaël! Why have you left me...In my maternal heart your image has remained. Azaël! Azaël! Why have you left me...Yet the evenings were sweet on the plain with its elm-trees, when, laden with the harvest, we would drive the big russet oxen home. When the task was accomplished, children, old people, and servants, farm-workers or shepherds, would praise the blessed hand of God. So day would follow day and in the pious family young men and young girls would exchange chaste vows of love. Others do not feel the weight of old age. Happy in their children, they see the years glide past without regret, as without sadness... How heavy time hangs for a heart without consolation!...Azaël! Why have you left me?

II
Ariettes oubliées Claude Debussy
C'est l'extase langoureuse
It is languorous 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.
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? It is not mine and yours,
Whose humble anthem we breathe On this mild evening, so very quietly?

Il pleure dans mon coeur
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.

L'ombre des arbres
The shadow of the trees in the misty river fades and dies like smoke;
while above, among the real branches, the doves are lamenting.

Oh traveler, how well this pale landscape mirrored your pallid self!
And how sadly, in the high foliage, your hopes were weeping, your
hopes that are drowned.

Chevaux de bois
Turn, turn, good horses of wood, turn a hundred turns, turn a thousand turns,
turn often and turn always, turn, turn to the sound of the oboes.

The red-faced child and pale mother, the boy in black and the girl in pink,
the one pursuing and the other posing, each getting a penny's worth of Sunday fun.

Turn, turn, horses of their hearts, while all around your turning
squints the sly pickpocket's eye-- turn to the sound of the victorious cornet.

It is astonishing how it intoxicates you to go around this way in a stupid circle,
nothing in your tummy and an ache in your head, very sick and having lots of fun.

Turn, wooden horses, with no need ever to use spurs
to command you to gallop around, turn, turn, with no hope for hay.

And hurry, horses of their souls-- hear the supper bell already,
the night that is falling and chasing the troop of merry drinkers, famished by their thirst.

Turn, turn! The velvet sky is slowly clothed with golden stars.
The church bell tolls sadly. Turn, to the happy sound of drums.
Green
Here are some fruit, some flowers, some leaves and some branches,
And then here is my heart, which beats only for you.
Do not rip it up with your two white hands,
And may the humble present be sweet in your beautiful eyes!

I arrive all covered in dew,
Which the wind of morning comes to freeze on my forehead.
Suffer my fatigue as I repose at your feet,
Dreaming of dear instants that will refresh me.

On your young breast allow my head to rest,
Still ringing with your last kisses;
Let it calm itself after the pleasant tempest,
And let me sleep a little, since you are resting.
Spleen
The roses were all red And the ivy was all black.
Dear, it only needs one move from you For all my despairs to reawaken.

The sky was too blue, too tender, The sea too green and the air too mild.
I fear all the time, ever waiting, Some terrible flight from you.

Of the holly with its varnished leaf And of the shining boxwood I am weary
And of the never-ending countryside, And of everything, except you. Alas!

III

Cantata John Carter
1. Prelude (1930-1991)
2. Rondo: Peter go ring dem bells
3. Recitative: Sometimes I feel like a motherless child
4. Air: Let us break bread together
5. Toccata: Ride on King Jesus

IV
Amor (1978) William Bolcom
Content to be behind me (2009) Ben Moore
I love teaching voice (2009) Ben Moore

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