Perry Chacon Jr., Tenor
Neilson Chen, piano
Undergraduate Recital Series
Recital Hall I April 2, 2016 I 7:30pm

Senior Recital Program
Ralph Vaughan Williams (1872-1958)

From Songs of Travel
1. The Vagabond
2. Let Beauty Awake
3. The Roadside Fire
4. Youth and Love

Hugo Wolf (1860-1903)

From Eichendorff Lieder
Der Musikant
Verschwiegene Liebe
Das Standchen
Nachtzauber
Seemanns Abschied
Intermission

Henri Duparc (1848-1933)

Chanson Triste
Serenade Florentine
Phidyle

Kurt Weill (1900-1950)

"Lonely House" from Street Scene
"My Ship" from Lady in the Dark
"Here I'll Stay" from Love Life

Maria Grever (1885-1951)

Ladron de Amores (Tipitin)
Te quiero, Dijiste ·
Granada

Agustin Lara (1897-1970)

A511.Herberger Institute
FOR DESIGN AND THE ARTS

ARIZONA

STATE

UNIVERSITY

School of Music

Der Musikant

Das Stadchen

The Musician

The Serenade

Wandering is the love of my life,
I live however I can,
If I were to give myself trouble,
It would not suit me at all.

On the roof between pale clouds,
the moon gazes,
a student sings in the streets before his
beloved' s door.

I know lovely old songs,
in the cold without shoes,
outside the strings I pluck,
and do not know where I will rest at night.

And the fountains murmur
throughout the still loneliness,
as do the woods, from the lower mountains.
It is like the beautiful old times.

Many a beauty will make eyes at me,
will say she would desire me,
if I were to improve myself,
if I were not such a lazy man.

So in my youthful days,
I had many summer nights here,
strumming a lute and making funny songs

May God give you a man,
with a good house and courtyard!
If we two were together,
maybe my singing would go away.

Verschwiegene Liebe
Secret Love
Over the treetops and fields,
into the splendorwho may guess them?
Who may catch up with them?
My thoughts float,
the night is silent,
my thoughts are free.
If one alone could guess,
who thought of her
in the rushing groves,
when no one keeps watch,

but the clouds that flymy love is silent
and lovely as the night

But from a silent threshold,
they have carried my love to rest,
and you cheerful companion,
.
.
smg on, smg on.

Nachtzauber
Night's Magic
Do you not hear the spring running
between the stones and flowers far
toward the silent forest lake,
where the marble statues stand
in beautiful solitude?
From the mountains,
gently awakening to ancient song, the
wondrous night ascends,
it's the reason it shines like you see in a
dream.
Do you know the flower that blooms
in the moonlit land,
from whose buds, half-open,
young limbs bloom with
white arms and red mouth?
And the nightingale sings,
and all around, a lament is raised;
alas, wounded fatally by love,

Let your loveliest smile
And your tender kiss reward me for waiting!

Ladron de Amores/ Tipitin
The Thief of Love
The thief of love they call me
For stealing her affection.
Just like a toy that a child
Wants as they walk by.
With her love I stole your kisses
And a lock of your hair,
But I have tangled myself with it,
And I just cannot escape.
Tipitin, Tipitin
Tipiton, Tipiton
Every morning,
under her window I sing this song!
Tipitin, Tipitin
Tipiton, Tipiton
This is the beat
The strong beat of my heart!
With my guitar in one hand,
And in the other with a bouquet of flowers
I sing my love
Throughout the early morning.
And in my song I am singing,
That I will never forget you,
That even if it costs me my life,
I will never stop singing!

Te quiero ,Dijiste
I love you, you said
I love you, you said
Taking my hands in to your pearly white hands
And I felt in chest
A strong beat,
Then a sigh, and then a spark from a warm kiss
Pretty little doll,
With golden hair
With pearly white teeth
Lips, red as rubies.

Tell me that you love me,
In the way that I adore you,
And if you remember me,
As I remember you ...
Sometimes I hear,
A divine echo,
Enveloped in the breeze
That seems to say ...
Yes, I really love you, very very much,
As much as I always have,
Always till I die.

Granada
Granada, land I've been dreaming about,
When my song's for you it turns into
A Gypsy-like shout.
It's my song, made of a dreamer's folly,
Yes, my song, flower of melancholy,
That I now bring to you.
Granada, your soil is made bloody
By your afternoons of bullfights;
A woman whose Moorish eyes give her
A charm that's exciting.
I dream you a rebellious Gypsy,
All covered with flowers,
And I kiss your red mouth that's so gleaming,
A ripe apple,
Seeming to speak love for hours.
Granada, a beautiful woman sung with beautiful
rhymes,
Except for a bouquet of roses
I've nothing to bring you;
Of roses with fragrance so mild that
They could be a frame for the Holy Virgin
Morena.
Granada, your soil is submerged in
A sea of great beauties,
Of blood and of sun!