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92NY’s Goldman Center for Children and Family provides an exceptional array of programs designed to support children at every stage of their development.
Oct 20, 2022
Superstar violinist Joshua Bell, internationally acclaimed soprano Larisa Martínez, and renowned multi-genre pianist Peter Dugan open our season with a sparkling program of arias, solos, and duets – specially arranged for these extraordinary artists – and including a brilliant West Side Story medley.
MENDELSSOHN: “Ah, ritorna, età dell’oro” from Infelice
BLOCH: “Nigun” from Baal Shem
MASSENET: “Je suis encore tout étourdie” from Manon
HÉROLD: “Jours de mon enfance” from Le pré aux clercs
CHOPIN: Nocturne in E-flat Major, Op. 9, No. 2 (arr. Bell/Wallace)
DELIBES: “Les Filles des Cadix”
R. STRAUSS, “Morgen!”
WIENAWSKI: Scherzo-Tarantelle, Op. 16
GIMENEZ: “Zapateado”
NARCISO FIGUEROA: “Mi Rancho”
BERNSTEIN: West Side Story Suite (arr. Brohn/Czarnecki)
Joshua Bell, violin
Larisa Martínez, soprano
Peter Dugan, piano
| Mendelssohn (Italian) | Mendelssohn (English) |
|---|---|
| I. Aria (Cavatina) Ah ritorna, età dell’oro alla terra abbandonata, se non fosti immaginata nel sognar felicità. Fu il mondo allor felice che un tenero arboscello, un limpido ruscello le genti alimentó. ah ritorna, bell’età. II. Cabaletta D’amor nel regno non v’è contento che del tormento non sia minor. Si scorge appena felice speme che nuova pena la turba ancor. Ah ritorna, bell’età. |
I. Aria (Cavatina) Ah come back, golden age to the abandoned land, if you weren’t imagined in dreams of happiness. The world was happy then a tender sapling, a clear stream people fed. ah come back to me, better days. II. Cabaletta There is no happiness Or love in the kingdom No minor torments. You can hardly see happy hope: a new pain disturbs her. Ah come back to me, better days. |
| Massenet (French) | Massenet (English) |
| Je suis encor tout étourdie, je suis encor tout engourdie! Ah! mon cousin ! Excusez-moi! Excusez un moment d’émoi! Je suis encor tout étourdie! Pardonnez à mon bavardage, j’en suis à mon premier voyage! Le coche s’éloignait à peine, que j’admirais de tous mes yeux, les hameaux, les grands bois, la plaine, les voyageurs jeunes et vieux. Ah! mon cousin, excusez-moi, c’est mon premier voyage! Je regardais fuir, curieuse, les arbres frissonnant au vent! Et j’oubliais toute joyeuse, que je partais pour le couvent! Devant tant de choses nouvelles, ne riez pas, si je vous dis que je croyais avoir des ailes et m’envoler en paradis! Oui, mon cousin! Puis, j’eus un moment de tristesse, je pleurais, je ne sais pourquoi. L’instant d’après, je le confesse, je riais, ah, ah, ah, etc. Je riais, mais sans savoir pourquoi! Ah, mon cousin, excusez-moi, ah, mon cousin, pardon! Je suis encor tout étourdie |
I’m still completely dizzy, I feel numb all over! Cousin, forgive me! Excuse an emotional moment! I’m dizzy! Forgive my chattering, this is the first trip I’ve ever taken! The coach had scarcely started to move when I opened my eyes wide, watching the little villages, the forest, the plain, the passengers, both young and old. Cousin, forgive me, it’s the first time I’ve travelled! I watched the trees as they rushed by, trembling in the wind. And was overwhelmed with delight I was forgetting that I was leaving for the convent! Faced with so many new things, don’t laugh when I tell you that I thought I had wings and was flying to paradise! Yes, cousin! Then, I felt a moment of sadness, I cried, I don’t know what about. Then the very next minute, I confess I was laughing, ha, ha, ha, etc. I was laughing, but without knowing why! Cousin, excuse me, cousin, forgive me, I’m still dizzy! |
| Hérold (French) | Hérold (English) |
| Jours de mon enfance, Ô jours d’innocence! Votre souvenance Est pour moi le bonheur. Malgré la cour et malgré le roi, Mergy, je veux n’être qu’à toi. Oui, Marguerite en qui j’espère Protège une pauvre étrangère Elle m’a dit en souriant Rassurez vous ma pauvre enfant Oui, malgré la cour Malgré le Roi Mergy, je veux n’être qu’à toi. Ô Dieu du jeune âge Par un doux presage Soutiens mon courage inspire moi j’espère en toi Par un doux presage Soutiens mon courage protège moi J’espère en toi Rassure toi pauvre Isabelle L’amitié te sera fidèle. |
Days of my childhood, O days of innocence! Your memory Is happiness to me, Despite the court and despite the king, Mergy, I want to be only yours. Yes, Marguerite, in whom I hope, Protect a poor stranger, She told me smiling Don’t worry my poor child Yes, despite the court Despite the King Mergy, I want to be only yours. O God of youth By a sweet omen Support my courage, inspire me, I hope in you By a sweet omen Support my courage, protect me. I hope in you Don’t worry poor Isabelle Friendship will be faithful to you. |
| Delibes (French) | Delibes (English) |
| Nous venions de voir le taureau Trois garçons, trois fillettes Sur la pelouse il faisait beau, Et nous dansions un boléro Au son des castagnettes; Dites-moi, voisin, Si j’ai bonne mine, Et si ma basquine Va bien, ce matin, Vous me trouvez la taille fine? Vous me trouvez la taille fine? Ah! ah! Ah! ah! Les filles de Cadix aiment assez cela, Ah! ah! ah! ah! ah! Les filles de Cadix aiment assez cela... Et nous dansions un boléro, Un soir c’était dimanche, Vers nous s’en vint un hidalgo Cousu d’or, la plume au chapeau, Et la poing sur la hanche. Si tu veux de moi, Brune au doux sourire, Tu n’as qu’a le dire, Cette or est à toi. Passez votre chemin, beau sire (x2) Ah! ah! ah! ah! ah! Les filles de Cadix n’entendent pas cela. Ah! ah! ah! ah! ah! Les filles de Cadix n’entendent pas cela! |
Three youths and maidens, we did go To see the bulls a-fighting, The sky was blue, the breeze did blow, We danced the joyous bolero, In mirth our hearts delighting Neighbor, tell me pray, If my face is fair, Does this dress I wear Become me well today? My waist you say is lithe and slender? My waist you say is lithe and slender? Ah! ah! Ah! ah! We maidens of Cadiz like to hear such words, Ah! ah! ah! ah! ah! We maidens of Cadiz like to hear such words... But while we danced another day, A bolero together, There came a cavalier that way, With lace of gold his cloak was gay, And in his hat a feather. If thou wilt be mine, Lovely dark-eyed maiden, Soon with jewels laiden, Shall thy fingers shine. Nay, go your way, O gallant suitor (x2) Ah! ah! ah! ah! ah! The maidens of Cadiz don’t understand such words. Ah! ah! ah! ah! ah! The maidens of Cadiz don’t understand such words! |
| Strauss (German) | Strauss (English) |
| “Morgen!” Und morgen wird die Sonne wieder scheinen Und auf dem Wege, den ich gehen werde, Wird uns, die Glücklichen, sie wieder einen Inmitten dieser sonnenatmenden Erde ... Und zu dem Strand, dem weiten, wogenblauen, Werden wir still und langsam niedersteigen, Stumm werden wir uns in die Augen schauen, Und auf uns sinkt des Glückes stummes Schweigen… |
“Tomorrow!” And tomorrow the sun will shine again And on the path that I shall take, It will unite us, happy ones, again, Amid this same sun-breathing earth ... And to the shore, broad, blue-waved, We shall quietly and slowly descend, Speechless we shall gaze into each other’s eyes, And the speechless silence of bliss shall fall on us ... |
| Giménez (Spanish) | Giménez (English) |
| La tarántula é un bicho mú malo; No se mata con piera ni palo; Que juye y se mete por tós los rincones Y son mú malinas sus picazones. ¡Ay mare!, no zé que tengo Que ayé pazé por la era Y ha principiaito a entrarme Er má de la temblaera. Zerá q’a mí me ha picáo La tarántula dañina Y estoy toitico enfermáo. Por su sangre tan endina. ¡Te coman los mengues Mardita la araña Que tié en la barriga Pintá una guitarra! Bailando se cura tan jondo doló. ¡Ay! ¡Mal haya la araña que a mí me picó! No le temo á los rayos ni balas Ni le temo á otra cosa más mala Que me hizo mi pare; Más guapo que er gayo Pero á ese bichito lo parta un rayo. ¡Ay mare! yo estoy malito. Me está entrando unos suores Que me han dejaito seco Y comío de picores. Zerá que á mí me ha picáo La tarántula dañina, Por eso me he quedao Más dergao que una sardina. ¡Te coman los mengues, Mardita la araña Que tié la barriga Pintá una guitarra! Bailando se cura tan jondo doló. ¡Ay! ¡Mal haya la araña que a mí me picó! |
The tarantula’s an evil little critter You can’t kill it with sticks or with stones For it runs off and hides in corners And its sting is wicked Ay mother! I don’t know what’s up with me Only yesterday I went into the threshing barn And now I’m shaking all over. I must have been stung By the nasty tarantula And now I’m really ill. Their blood is so bad May the devils eat one another! To hell with the spider That on its stomach Has a painted guitar! Dancing is the only cure for this terrible pain. Ay! Curse the spider that stung me! I’m not afraid of thunderbolts or bullets I’m not afraid of the worse things My dad’s made me tougher; More courageous than a cockerel But may that critter be struck by a bolt. Ay mother, I’ve got it bad. I’m getting into one of those sweats That dries you up And gets you all scabby I must have been stung By the nasty tarantula And that’s why I’m getting Thinner than a sardine. May the devils eat one another! To hell with the spider That on its stomach Has a painted guitar! Dancing is the only cure for this terrible pain. Ay! Curse the spider that stung me! |
| Figueroa (Spanish) | Figueroa (English) |
| En el cafetal mi rancho Nido de pajaros parece, Que a viento y lluvia se mece Cual colgara de un gancho. Con la hija del viejo Pancho las lluvias son placenteras. Porque al caer las goteras ella se acuesta conmigo, y me echa encima el abrigo de su seno y sus caderas. |
From the coffee plantation my ranch Seems like a birds nest, That rocks with the wind and rain Like hanging from a hook. With old Pancho’s daughter the rains are pleasant. Because when the rain starts she lays with me, and covers me with the coat of her breasts and her hips. |
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