All Who

Wander Jamie Barton mezzo-soprano Brian Zeger piano

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DE 3494

All Who Wa n d e r J a m i e B a r to n , m e z z o - s o p r a n o ; B r i a n Z e g e r , p i a n o "The world has been waiting for this voice for a long time – one that reminds you of how capable the human voice is of creating something of absolute beauty. Jamie pours all of her heart into every phrase of this deeply personal debut album. You will be utterly transported." – Joyce DiDonato

MAHLER – Five Rückert Songs: Ich atmet’ einen linden Duft ♦ Liebst du um Schönheit ♦ Blicke mir nicht in die Lieder! ♦ Um Mitternacht ♦ Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen ♦ (from various song cycles) Ich ging mit Lust ♦ Erinnerung ♦ Scheiden und Meiden DVOŘÁK – Gypsy Songs, Op. 55: Má píseň zas mi láskou zní ♦ Aj! Kterak trojhranec můj přerozkošně zvoní ♦ A les je tichý kolem kol ♦ Když mne stará matka zpívat, zpívat učívala ♦ Struna naladěna ♦ Široké rukávy a široké gatě ♦ Dejte klec jestřábu ze zlata ryzého SIBELIUS – Svarta rosor ♦ Säv, säv, susa ♦ Flickan kom ♦ Kyssens Hopp ♦ Marssnön ♦ Var det en dröm?

All Who Wander

Gustav Mahler (1860-1911): Fünf Lieder nach Rückert (Five Rückert Songs)

12. Když mne stará matka zpívat, zpívat učívala (2:41)

1. Ich atmet’ einen linden Duft (2:43)

13. Struna naladěna (1:11)

2. Liebst du um Schönheit (2:44)

14. Široké rukávy a široké gatě (1:40)

3. Blicke mir nicht in die Lieder! (1:32)

15. Dejte klec jestřábu ze zlata ryzého (2:04)

4. Um Mitternacht (6:56) 5. Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen (6:49)

Jean sibelius (1865-1957):

(from various song cycles)

16. Svarta rosor – Op. 36, No. 1 (2:20)

6. Ich ging mit Lust (4:41)

17. Säv, säv, susa – Op. 36, No. 4 (2:55)

7. Erinnerung (2:46)

18. Flickan kom – Op. 37, No. 5 (3:28)

8. Scheiden und Meiden (2:43)

19. Kyssens Hopp – Op. 13, No.2 (2:18) 20. Marssnön – Op. 36, No. 5 (1:39)

Antonin Dvořák (1841-1904):

21. Var det en dröm? – Op. 37, No. 4 (2:12)

Cigánské melodie (Gypsy Songs) – Op. 55 9. Má píseň zas mi láskou zní (2:51)

Total Playing Time: 60:48

10. Aj! Kterak trojhranec můj přerozkošně zvoní (1:13) 11. A les je tichý kolem kol (3:17)

JAMIE BARTON, mezzo-soprano BRIAN ZEGER, piano 2

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ll Who Wander is inspired by something that lives within all of us, the little voice in us that wants us to step out and experience the world. The desire to be a gypsy or a wanderer is the idea of breaking free from the trappings of society and finding oneself.

My favorite song from Dvořák’s Cigánské melodie is No. 3. It speaks of heartache with the tenderest voice. The fragile stillness of the piano mirrors the text’s imagery of tears drying on your face, running black down your cheeks due to the smoke from the campfire staining them. The vocal line carefully balances pristine, shimmering beauty and heartfelt gravitas. To me, the text is true to the gypsy: “Don’t get too upset by heartache. He who can sing amid sorrow does not die; he lives!”

I’ve always been drawn to the lush music and storytelling in art songs of the late 1800s. Each one of the three composers I’ve chosen for this recording represents a different culture and different language, but all of them are masters at bringing text alive through their distinctive compositional styles. They create equally rich musical landscapes and emotional journeys as they portray characters deeply connected to nature and their surroundings, with poignant stories to tell and insights to share.

Romantic-era drama and lavishness weaves throughout Sibelius’s songs, but the texts are still so real and heartbreaking. The composer’s settings brilliantly serve their tone. A fantastic example of his musical storytelling is his compact two-page song “Marssnön.” It sounds to me like a midwinter snowscape; the music illustrates the exquisite silence you would get if you were standing alone in the snow in the middle of a quiet countryside. However, even as you sense the snowflakes gently falling to create waves of snow on the cold ground, Sibelius opens up both the piano and the vocal lines, and you can envision the impending springtime blooming forth, the sun coming to melt away the cold. In only two pages, the song shows an incredible range, from the simple to the magnificent.

Of these composers, Dvořák is to me the one who has most locked into an authentic, naturalistic quality in his setting of Adolf Heyduk’s Cigánské melodie (Gypsy Songs). Yet each piece of this song cycle is unique. Over the course of seven songs, you get seven different flavors, stories, aspects, and emotions. I love the lack of self-consciousness in this group of songs – they manage to be absolutely grand while being nonchalant about their grandeur. The gypsy doesn’t care about being grand; the gypsy just wanders and sees and experiences and lives in the present. 3

Similarly multifaceted, Mahler has incredible folk roots in his music, yet he manages to be ethereal while absolutely grounded in nature. “Ich ging mit lust” is a new favorite of mine. It is a gorgeous song with arching lines, and you can hear the wild birds singing in the piano line. To me, it sounds like something you might spontaneously sing while you’re walking through the forest. But at the same time, because it’s Mahler, the serenity is elevated to otherworldly heights.

one need wait for the end of one’s life to find that satisfaction, and so I connect with this song in my own life’s journey to finding the happy quiet space within myself. Despite their diverse origins, this collection of songs represents thoughts and feelings that can be both universal and deeply personal. We experience shy moments of love like Mahler’s “Blicke mir”; we hear of horrific stories similar to what is told in Sibelius’s “Säv, säv, susa”; we hear tunes that remind us of the music we heard in our homes when we were growing up, just like the gypsy does in Dvořák’s “Když mne stará matka zpívat, zpívat učívala”; we look up at the sky and wonder if anything is out there, just as the speaker does in Mahler’s “Um Mitternacht.” These songs echo human experiences, showing the fullness of our lives through moments that are often simultaneously raw and alluring, and always fascinating.

While “Ich ging mit lust” is one of the newest songs to me, the song on this album I’ve lived with the longest is “Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen.” Since the first time I heard it, it has entranced me. I think this is one of the most perfectly written songs I know. As a listener, I’ve always felt that Mahler’s setting of Friedrich Rückert’s text sounds as if the singer is just at the edge of the gossamer border that separates life from heaven, curiously reaching forward. People seem to be torn about the meaning of the text, yet I felt a very strong pull toward my particular interpretation from the first time I sat down with the music. I’ve known a lot of people who consider this a sad song in which a person is singing of his or her own death, feeling ready to let go of all earthly tethers. However, I think it’s a transcendent song. To me, it speaks of releasing your worries and, in that way, it’s a song of no regrets, of pure contentedness. I’ve never felt that

– Jamie Barton

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Gustav Mahler:

Liebst du um Schönheit

Fünf Lieder nach Rückert (Five Rückert Songs) (Texts: Friedrich Rückert)

Ich atmet’ einen linden Duft. Im Zimmer stand Ein Zweig der Linde, Ein Angebinde von lieber Hand; Wie lieblich war der Lindenduft! Wie lieblich ist der Lindenduft! Das Lindenreis Brachst du gelinde; Ich atme leis Im Duft der Linde Der Liebe linden Duft.

Liebst du um Schönheit, O nicht mich liebe! Liebe die Sonne, Sie trägt ein goldnes Haar! Liebst du um Jugend, O nicht mich liebe! Liebe den Frühling, Der jung ist jedes Jahr! Liebst du um Schätze, O nicht mich liebe! Liebe die Meerfrau, Sie hat viel Perlen klar! Liebst du um Liebe, O ja mich liebe! Liebe mich immer, Dich lieb’ ich immerdar.

I breathed a gentle fragrance

If you love for beauty

I breathed a gentle fragrance! In the room stood A spray of lime, A gift from a dear hand; How lovely the fragrance of lime was! How lovely the fragrance of lime is! The spray of lime Was gently plucked by you! Softly I breathe In the fragrance of lime The gentle fragrance of love.

If you love for beauty, O love not me! Love the sun, She has golden hair! If you love for youth, O love not me! Love the spring Which is young each year! If you love for riches, O love not me! Love the mermaid Who has many shining pearls! If you love for love,

Ich atmet’ einen linden Duft

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Um Mitternacht

Ah yes, love me! Love me always, I shall love you ever more!

Um Mitternacht hab’ ich gewacht Und aufgeblickt zum Himmel; Kein Stern vom Sterngewimmel Hat mir gelacht um Mitternacht. Um Mitternacht hab’ ich gedacht Hinaus in dunkle Schranken; Es hat kein Lichtgedanken Mir Trost gebracht um Mitternacht. Um Mitternacht nahm ich in acht Die Schläge meines Herzens; Ein einz’ger Puls des Schmerzens War angefacht um Mitternacht. Um Mitternacht kämpft’ ich die Schlacht, O Menschheit, deiner Leiden; Nicht konnt’ ich sie entscheiden Mit meiner Macht um Mitternacht. Um Mitternacht hab’ ich die Macht In deine Hand gegeben: Herr über Tod und Leben, Du hältst die Wacht um Mitternacht!

Blicke mir nicht in die Lieder! Blicke mir nicht in die Lieder! Meine Augen schlag’ ich nieder, Wie ertappt auf böser Tat; Selber darf ich nicht getrauen, Ihrem Wachsen zuzuschauen: Deine Neugier ist Verrat! Bienen, wenn sie Zellen bauen, Lassen auch nicht zu sich schauen, Schauen selbst auch nicht zu. Wenn die reichen Honigwaben Sie zu Tag befördert haben, Dann vor allen nasche du! Do not look into my songs! Do not look into my songs! I lower my gaze, As if caught in the act; I cannot even trust myself To watch them growing: Your curiosity is treason! Bees, when they build cells, Let no one watch either, And do not even watch themselves. When the rich honeycombs Have been brought to daylight, You shall be the first to taste!

At midnight At midnight I kept watch And looked up to heaven; Not a star in the galaxy Smiled on me at midnight. At midnight my thoughts went out To the dark reaches of space; No shining thought Brought me comfort at midnight. At midnight I paid heed 6

Nor can I deny it, For truly I am dead to the world. I am dead to the world’s tumult And rest in a quiet realm. I live alone in my heaven, In my loving, in my song.

To the beating of my heart; A single pulse of pain Was set alight at midnight. At midnight I fought the fight, O Mankind, of your afflictions; I could not gain victory By my own strength at midnight. At midnight I gave my strength Into Thy hands: Lord over life and death, Thou keepest watch at midnight.

Ich ging mit Lust durch einen grünen Wald (Anonymous) Ich ging mit Lust durch einen grünen Wald, Ich hört die Vöglein singen. Sie sangen so jung, sie sangen so alt, Die kleinen Waldvögelein im grünen Wald! Wie gern hört ich sie singen, ja singen!

Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen, Mit der ich sonst viele Zeit verdorben. Sie hat so lange nichts von mir vernommen, Sie mag wohl glauben, ich sei gestorben. Es ist mir auch gar nichts daran gelegen, Ob sie mich für gestorben hält. Ich kann auch gar nichts sagen dagegen, Denn wirklich bin ich gestorben der Welt. Ich bin gestorben dem Weltgetümmel, Und ruh’ in einem stillen Gebiet. Ich leb’ allein in meinem Himmel, In meinem Lieben, in meinem Lied

Nun sing, nun sing, Frau Nachtigall! Sing du’s bei meinem Feinsliebchen: ‘Komm schier, komm schier, wenns finster ist, Wenn niemand auf der Gasse ist, Dann komm zu mir, dann komm zu mir! Herein will ich dich lassen, ja lassen!’ Der Tag verging, die Nacht brach an, Er kam zu Feinsliebchen gegangen; Er klopft so leis’ wohl an den Ring, “Ei, schläfst du oder wachst, mein Kind? Ich hab so lang gestanden!”

I am lost to the world I am lost to the world With which I used to waste much time; It has for so long heard nothing of me, It may well believe I am dead. Nor am I at all concerned If it should think me dead.

Es schaut der Mond durchs Fensterlein Zum holden, süßen Lieben, Die Nachtigall sang die ganze Nacht. Du schlafselig Mägdelein, nimm dich in Acht! Wo ist dein Herzliebster geblieben? 7

I walked joyfully though a green wood

Die Liebe immer wieder! Die Lippen, die da träumen Von deinen heißen Küssen, In Sang und Liedesweisen Von dir sie tönen müssen!

I walked joyfully through a green wood, I heard the little birds sing. They sang so young, they sang so old, Those little wood birds in the green wood! How gladly I heard them sing, yes sing!

Und wollen die Gedanken Der Liebe sich entschlagen, So kommen meine Lieder Zu mir mit Liebesklagen!

Please sing, please sing, Mrs Nightingale, Sing this at my beloved’s house: “Come quick, come quick, when darkness falls, When not a soul is in the street, Then come to me, then come to me! And I will let you in, yes in.”

So halten mich in Banden Die Beiden immer wieder! Es weckt das Lied die Liebe! Die Liebe weckt die Lieder!

The day departed, night fell, He went to his beloved; He taps so softly with the knocker, “Are you asleep or awake, my child? I’ve been standing here so long!”

Recollection My love inspires songs Again and again! My songs inspire love Again and again!

The moon looked through the window, Saw the charming, sweet caresses, The nightingale sang all night long. Sleepy little maid, take care! Where is your sweetheart now?

The lips that dream Of your ardent kisses Must sing of you In melody and song!

Erinnerung (Text: Richard Leander)

And if my thoughts Seek to banish love, My songs return, Lamenting love! So both hold me captive

Es wecket meine Liebe Die Lieder immer wieder! Es wecken meine Lieder 8

Again and again: Songs inspire love, Love inspires songs!

Farewell! Farewell! Yes, parting and farewell bring pain! The child departs in the cradle even! Farewell! When shall my loved one at last be mine? Farewell! And if it be not tomorrow, ah, were it today, That would give us both such joy! Farewell! Farewell! Farewell! Yes, parting and farewell bring pain!

Scheiden und Meiden (Anonymous) Es ritten drei Reiter zum Tore hinaus! Ade! Fein’s Liebchen, das schaute zum Fenster hinaus, Ade! Und wenn es denn soll geschieden sein, So reich mir dein goldenes Ringelein, Ade! Ade! Ja, Scheiden und Meiden tut weh, tut weh!

Translations by Richard Stokes from The Book of Lieder (Faber and Faber, 2005)

Es scheidet das Kind schon in der Wieg! Ade! Wann werd ich mein Schätzel wohl kriegen? Ade! Und ist es nicht morgen, ach, wär es doch heut, Es machte uns Beiden wohl grosse Freud, Ade! Ade! Ade! Ja, Scheiden und Meiden tut weh.

Antonín DvořAk: Cigánské melodie (Gypsy Songs) (Texts: Adolf Heyduk) Má píseň zas mi láskou zní Má píseň zas mi láskou zní, když starý den umirá; a chudý mech kdy na šat svůj si tajně perle sbíra.

Parting and farewell Three horsemen rode out through the gate! Farewell! The beloved looked out of the window, Farewell! And if it’s time for us to part, Then give me your little golden ring,

Má píseň v kraj tak toužně zní, když svetem noha bloudí; jen rodné pusty dálinou zpěv volně z ňader proudí.

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Ah! How most delightfully my triangle rings

Má píseň hlučně láskou zní, když bouře běží plání; když těším se, že bídy prost dlí bratr v umírání.

Ah! How most delightfully my triangle rings, Like the song of a Gypsy when he bends toward death! When he bends toward death, his triangle rings for him. No more songs and dances, no more love or lamenting! No more songs and dances, no more love or lamenting!

My song of love rings out again My song of love rings out again, When the old day is dying; And lowly moss for its garment Is secretly gathering dew-pearls. My song rings out so wistfully, When through the world I’m roaming; Only through the vastness of my native plains Does my song flow freely from my breast.

A les je tichý kolem kol A les je tichý kolem kol, jen srdce mír ten ruší, a černý kouř, jenž spěchá v dol, mé slze v lících, mé slze suší.

My song rings out so loud with love, When storms race over the plains; Rejoicing when, from misery, A brother’s dying saves him!

Však nemusí jich usušit, necht’ v jiné tváře bije. Kdo v smutku může zazpívat, ten nezhynul, ten žije, ten žije!

Aj! Kterak trojhranec můj přerozkošně zvoní

All around me the forest is quiet

Aj! Kterak trojhranec můj přerozkošně zvoní, jak cigána píseň, když se k smrti kloní! Když se k smrti kloní, trojhran mu vyzvání. Konec písni, tanci, lásce, bědování. Konec písni, tanci, lásce, bědování.

All around me the forest is quiet, Only my heart disturbs the peace. And the black smoke coming quickly down Dries the tears on my cheeks, The tears on my cheeks.

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The strings are tuned

However, there is no need to dry my tears, Let it blow on other cheeks. He who can sing amid sorrow Has not died; he lives, he lives!

The strings are tuned – Young man, join the dance; Today perhaps we soar up high, Tomorrow, tomorrow down again!

Když mne stará matka zpívat, zpívat učívala

The day after tomorrow At the sacred table by the Nile; The strings are already tuned, Young man, join the dance!

Když mne stará matka zpívat, zpívat učívala, podivno, že často, často slzívala. A ted’ také pláčem snědé líce mučim, když cigánské děti hrát a zpívat učim!

Široké rukávy a široké gatě

When my old mother taught me singing

Široké rukávy a široké gatě volnější cigánu nežli dolman v zlatě. Dolman a to zlato bujná prsa svírá; pod ním volná píseň násilně umírá. A kdo raduješ se, tvá kdy píseň v květě, přej si, aby zašlo zlato v celém světě!

When my old mother taught me singing, Strange, that she often, often cried. And now tears too torment my dark cheeks, As I teach Gypsy children to play music and sing!

Wide sleeves and wide trousers

Struna naladěna

Wide sleeves and wide trousers Give the Gypsy more freedom than a golden robe. A golden robe constricts the powerful chest; Beneath it our free song dies a violent death. And you who rejoice, when your song blooms free, Wish that all gold in the world cease to be.

Struna naladěna, hochu, toč se v kole, dnes, snad dnes převysoko, zejtra, zejtra, zejtra zase dole! Pozejtří u Nilu za posvátným stolem; struna již, struna naladěna, hochu, toč, hochu, toč se kolem! 11

Dejte klec jestřábu ze zlata ryzého

I mitt hjärta där växer ett rosendeträd, som aldrig nånsin vill lämna mig fred, och på stjälkarna sitter det tagg vid tagg, och det vållar mig ständigt sveda och agg; ty sorgen har nattsvarta rosor.

Dejte klec jestřábu ze zlata ryzého; nezmění on za ni hnízda trněného. Komoni bujnému, jenž se pustou žene, zřídka kdy připnete uzdy a třemene. A tak i cigánu příroda cos dala: k volnosti ho věčným poutem, k volnosti ho upoutala.

Men av rosor blir det en hel klenod, än vita som döden, än röda som blod. Det växer och växer. Jag tror jag förgår, i hjärträdets rötter det rycker och slår; ty sorgen har nattsvarta rosor.

Give a hawk a golden cage

Black Roses

Give a hawk a golden cage; It will not choose it over a thorny nest. Just as a wild colt charging through the plains Can hardly be put into reins and stirrups. And so also to the Gypsy did nature give something: To freedom with an eternal bond, To freedom did it bind him.

Tell me, why are you so sad today when you are always so cheerful and gay? But I am no more sad today than when you think me cheerful and gay for grief has night black roses. In my heart there grows a rose-tree which will never allow me peace: on its stems grow thorn upon thorn and it causes unceasing rancor and pain for grief has night black roses But of the roses it becomes quite a treasure, white as death, red as blood. It grows and grows. I think I will perish: in my heart-tree’s roots there is a wrenching and throbbing for grief has night black roses.

Translations: Véronique Firkusny

Jean sibelius: Songs Svarta rosor (Text: Ernst Josephson) Säg, varför är du så ledsen i dag, du, som alltid är så lustig och glad? Och inte är jag mera ledsen i dag än när jag tyckes dig lustig och glad; ty sorgen har nattsvarta rosor. 12

Säv, säv, susa (Text: Gustaf Fröding)

She cried like a winged duck as she sank in the lake (last spring was then at its greenest).

Säv, säv, susa våg, våg, slå, I sägen mig var Ingalill den unga månde gå?

They were envious of her in Östanålid and she took it to heart. They begrudged her her riches and her young love.

Hon skrek som en vingskjuten and, när hon sjönk i sjön, det var när sista var stod grön.

They pierced a jewel with a thorn, they cast dirt in a lily’s dew.

De voro henne gramse vid Östanålid, det tog hon sig så illa vid.

So sing your dirge, sad wavelets, rushes, rushes, murmur, waves, waves crash!

De voro henne gramse för gods och gull och för hennes unga kärleks skull.

Flickan kom ifrån sin älsklings mote (Text: Johan Ludvig Runeberg)

De stucko en ögonsten med tagg, de kastade smuts i en liljas dagg.

Flickan kom ifrån sin älsklings möte, Kom med röda händer -- Modern sade: Varav rodna dina händer, flicka? Flickan sade: jag har plockat rosor, Och på törnen stungit mina händer. Åter kom hon från sin älsklings möte, Kom med röda läppar -- Modern sade: Varav rodna dina läppar, flicka? Flickan sade: jag har ätit hallon, Och med saften målat mina läppar. Åter kom hon från sin älsklings möte, Kom med bleka kinder -- Modern sade: Varav blekna dina kinder, flicka? Flickan sade: red en grav, o Moder!

Så sjungen, sjungen sorgsång, I sorgsna vågor små, säv, säv, susa, våg, våg, slå! Rushes, rushes, murmur Rushes, rushes, murmur wave, wave, crash Are you trying to reveal the fate of young Ingalil?

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Göm mig där, och ställ et kors däröver, Och på korset rista, som jag säger: En gång kom hon hem med röda händer; Ty de rodnat mellan älskarns händer. En gång kom hon hem med röda läppar; Ty de rodnat under älskarns läppar. Senast kom hon hem med bleka kinder; Ty de bleknat genom älskarns otro.

Once she came home with red lips for they had turned red beneath her lover’s lips. The last time she came home with pale cheeks for they had turned pale at her lover’s unfaithfulness.

The Girl Returned from Meeting Her Lover

Kyssens hopp (Text: Johan Ludvig Runeberg)

The girl returned from meeting her lover, came back with red hands – Her mother asked: Why are your hands so red, my child? The girl replied: I have been plucking roses and pricked my hands on the thorns. Again she returned from meeting her lover, came back with red lips – Her mother asked: Why are your lips so red, my child? The girl replied: I have been eating raspberries and stained my lips with the juice. Again she returned from meeting her lover, came back with pale cheeks – Her mother asked: Why are your cheeks so pale, my child? The girl replied: Prepare a grave, mother! Hide me there and set up a cross and on the cross carve these words: Once she came home with red hands for they had turned red between her lover’s hands.

Der jag satt i drömmar vid en källa, Hörde jag en kyss på mina läppar Sakta tala till en annan detta: Se, hon kommer, se, se, den blyga flickan kommer redan; Inom några stunder sitter jag På hennes rosen läppar, Och hon bär mig troget hela dagen, Näns ej smaku på ett enda smultron, Att ej blanda mig med smultron saften, Näns ej dricka ur den klara källan, Att ej krossa mig mot glasets bräddar, Näns ej hviska ens ett ord om kärlek, Att ej fläkta mig från rosen läppen. The Kiss’s Hope There where I sat dreaming by a spring, I heard a kiss on my lips slowly speaking to another thus: See, she comes, see, see, the shy girl is coming already; 14

In a few moments I sit on her rosy lips, And she carries me faithfully the whole day, Not even tasting a single wild strawberry, to not mix me with the wild strawberry juice, Not even drinking from the clear spring, to not crush me against the overflowing glass, Not whispering even a single word about love, to not blow me away from her rosy lips.

You will blossom all the more strongly, And die the richer. Var det en dröm? (Text: Josef Julius Wecksell) Var det en dröm att ljuvt engång jag var ditt hjärtas vän? Jag minns det som en tystnad sång, då strängen darrar än. Jag minns en törnros av dig skänkt, en blick så blyg och öm;

Marssnön (Text: Josef Julius Wecksell)

jag minns en avskedstår, som blänkt, var allt, var allt en dröm?

Den svala snön därute faller och täcker marken mer och mer, de lägga sig de vita stjärnor i varv på varv längs jorden ner.

En dröm lik sippans liv så kort uti en vårgrön ängd, vars fägring hastigt vissnar bort för nya blommors mängd.

Håll slutet än, o vår! ditt öga, sov gott i blid och vänlig snö dess mäktigare skall du blomma, dess rikare skall sen du dö.

Men mången natt jag hör en röst vid bittra tårars ström:

March Snow

göm djupt dess minne i ditt bröst, det var din bästa dröm!

Cool snow falls outside, And covers the earth ever more thickly With layer upon layer of white stars.

Did I Just Dream? Did I just dream that long ago I was your soulmate?

Keep your eyes shut, O spring; Go on sleeping in the gentle, friendly snow. 15

I remember it like a song that is over though the string still vibrates. I remember a rose you gave me, a glance so shy and tender, a tear that glistened at parting was all this just a dream? A dream as brief as an anemone’s life in a green spring meadow, whose beauty quickly fades before the wealth of new flowers. But many a night I hear a voice over a flood of bitter tears: hide this memory deep in your breast it was the best dream you ever had! Translations: Jean-Paul Bjorlin

Hailed as “a fresh wonder of the opera world, possessing a voice of preternatural beauty and power” (Alex Ross, The Rest Is Noise), Jamie Barton has quickly risen to become one of the most in-demand mezzo-sopranos on the international stage. Since winning the Metropolitan Opera National Council Awards in 2007, she has garnered numerous honors and acclaimed appearances, includ16

Bon Appetit! under the direction of Ned Canty, and appearing in the documentary The Audition.

ing a Grammy Award nomination in 2011, the BBC Cardiff Singer of the World Main Prize and Song Prize in 2013, and the Richard Tucker Award in 2015.

A graduate of the Houston Grand Opera Studio, Barton attended Indiana University in Bloomington. She lives in Atlanta, Georgia, with her cat, River.

Her opera roles have included Adalgisa in Norma at the Metropolitan Opera, San Francisco Opera, and Los Angeles Opera; Fenena in Nabucco at the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden and Seattle Opera; Giovanna Seymour in Anna Bolena at the Metropolitan Opera and Lyric Opera of Chicago; and Fricka in Das Rheingold and Die Walküre with Washington National Opera.

www.jamiebartonmezzo.com Widely recognized as one of today’s leading collaborative pianists, Brian Zeger has performed with many of the world’s greatest singers, including Marilyn Horne, Deborah Voigt, Anna Netrebko, Susan Graham, René Pape, Dame Kiri Te Kanawa, Frederica von Stade, Piotr Beczala, Bryn Terfel, Joyce DiDonato, Denyce Graves, and Adrianne Pieczonka in an extensive concert career that has taken him to the premiere concert halls throughout the United States and abroad.

Barton is equally at home in concert, where she has been praised for her “exquisite communicative gift” (Joshua Kosman, San Francisco Chronicle). Recital engagements include a tour with Bradley Moore to Carnegie Hall, Oper Frankfurt, and Music Worcester and concerts with the Tucson Desert Song Festival, Toronto Summer Music Festival, Vocal Arts DC, and The Queen’s Hall. With orchestra, she has appeared as a soloist in Verdi’s Requiem, Brahms’ Alto Rhapsody, and Mahler’s Symphony No. 3.

Among his most recent recordings are Preludios - Spanish songs with Isabel Leonard; a recording of Strauss and Wagner lieder with Adrianne Pieczonka; and Dear Theo: 3 Song Cycles by Ben Moore with Paul Appleby, Susanna Phillips, and Brett Polegato, all for the Delos label.

Additional career highlights have been performances on the 80th birthday galas of Sherrill Milnes and Marilyn Horne, singing Mère Marie in Dialogues of the Carmelites opposite Felicity Palmer at the Bayerische Staatsoper, singing Julia Child in Lee Hoiby’s

Also active as a chamber musician, he has been a regular guest at many festivals in17

cluding the Bard Music Festival, the Cape Cod Chamber Music Festival, and the Frankly Music series in Milwaukee, and has enjoyed collaborations with the Jupiter String Quartet, Borromeo and Brentano Quartets, An die Musik, and the New York Philharmonic Chamber Ensembles. He also serves as both pianist and curator for the Juilliard Songfest series and an ongoing collaborative series with the Metropolitan Museum of Art . In addition to his distinguished concert career, he serves as Artistic Director of the Marcus Institute for Vocal Arts at The Juilliard School. In addition, for eight years he served as the Executive Director of the Metropolitan Opera Lindemann Young Artists Development Program and also previously served as director of the program for singers at the Steans Music Institute at the Ravinia Festival. He has made concerto appearances with the Boston Pops, multiple concert appearances at the White House and United States Supreme Court, and appeared with Deborah Voigt and Frederica von Stade on the telecast of the Metropolitan Opera’s Gala saluting Joseph Volpe. www.brianzeger.com

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I want to thank the following people who have made this album happen: Brian Zeger and Adam Abeshouse, you two are extraordinary collaborators; to Team JBMS, Michael Benchetrit, Beth Stewart, John Primavera, and Jean Goffaux; to Becca Fay, Joe Beutel, Sarah Stark, Jessica Jahn, Rachel Townsend, Thomas Ourada, and Hyde Clarke, who made these photos happen; my beloved voice teachers, Dr. Brian Horne, Mary Ann Hart, and Stephen King... thank you for guiding and teaching me; and last but not least, to Mom, Phil, Dad, Jean, and everyone who has rooted me on from day one. This exists because you cared. This album is dedicated to Tom, Carolyn, Agnes, Judge, and Francis. Thank you for passing the love of music on to me. – Jamie Barton Recording made at SUNY Purchase, August 2015 Producer: Adam Abeshouse Executive Producer: Carol Rosenberger Engineering: Adam Abeshouse Editing, mixing and mastering: Adam Abeshouse Assistant Engineer: David Slitzky Booklet Editors: Lindsay Koob, Anne Maley Graphic Design & Layout: Lonnie Kunkel Photography: Fay Fox, Jamie Barton photos Jared Slater: photo of Brian Zeger Piano: Purchase Steinway Concert Grand # 134 © 2016 Delos Productions, Inc., P.O. Box 343, Sonoma, CA 95476-9998 (707) 996-3844 • Fax (707) 320-0600 • (800) 364-0645 [email protected] • www.delosmusic.com Made in USA 19

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