St Bride's: Music - Lunchtime Recitals

Ashley Blasse - classical guitar
Béatrice de Larragoïti - soprano

Tuesday, 28 March at 1:15pm - FREE ADMITTANCE - Retiring Collection

Ashley Blasse - classical guitar<br />Béatrice de Larragoïti - sopranoAshley Blasse - classical guitar<br />Béatrice de Larragoïti - soprano

Carlos Guastavino

Ocho canciones para canto y guitarra (Eight Songs for Voice and Guitar)

I. Severa Villafañe (Severa Villafane)

II. Ay, que el alma (Ah, my soul)

III. Pueblito, mi pueblo (Village, my little village)

IV. Pampa Sola (Solitary pampa)

V. El Sampedrino (The man from San Pedro)

VI. La sempre viva (The ancient nostalgia)

VII. Vidala del secadal (Song of the thirsty lands)

VIII. La tempranera (The early one)

Fernando Sor

Introduction and Variations from 'O cara armonia', Op. 9

(from 'The Magic Flute' by W.A Mozart)

Matyas Seiber

Four French Folk Songs

I. Réveillez-vous (Wake Up)

II. J'ai descendu (I went down)

III. Le Rossignol (The Nightingale)

IV. Marguerite, elle est malade (Margaret is ill)

Heitor Villa-Lobos

Modinha (Song)

Texts & Translations

Carlos Guastavino (1912 - 2000)

Ocho canciones para canto y guitarra:

Severa Villafañe

 

Qué llorarán las campanas
En lo doliente del aire ?
Si estaran quizá doblando

Por Severa Villafañe.

 

Una luz desfalleciente

Una flor que se deshoja,

Cuentan el fin de esa niña

En la tierra de la Rioja.

 

Dónde vas, triste Severa,

Dónde con tal sentimiento ?

Voy camino a Catamarca

A guardarme en un convento.

 

Busca su paz la doliente

Al apartarse del mundo.

Sombras le nublan el juicio

Cuando allí llegó Facundo !

 

Ay, Severa Villafañe,

Tu sino cruel se verá cumplido,

Ese Facundo Quiroga

Para tu mal te ha elegido.

Severa Villafañe

 

Why would the bells cry

In the sorrowful air?

If they are not doubling

The voice of Severa Villafañe.

 

A dying light,

A defoliated flower

Tell the ending of this young girl

On the lands of the Rioja.

 

Where are you going, sad Severa,

Where, with such emotions ?

I'm going towards Catamarca

To lock myself in a convent.

 

She's searching her peace, the sorrowful girl,

Cutting herself from the world.

Clouds blurred her mind,

When Facundo arrived there !

 

Ah, Severa Villafañe,

Your cruel sin will be fulfilled,

This Facundo Quiroga

Has chosen to harm you.

Ay, que el alma

 

Ay, que el alma se me sale

En ríos de sentimiento,

Por un amor que perdí

En los caminos del viento.

 

Olvido de que me vales,

Ay, que el alma se me sale.

Ah, my soul

 

Ah, my soul is pouring out

In rivers of emotion,

For a love that I lost

On the paths of the wind

 

Oblivion, what use are you to me

Ah, my soul is pouring out.

Pueblito, mi pueblo

 

Pueblito, mi pueblo,

Extraño tus tardes.

Querido pueblito,

No puedo olvidarte.

Cuanta nostalgia ceñida

Tengo en el alma esta tarde.

Ay, si pudiera otra vez

Bajo tus sauces soñar,

Viendo las nubes que pasan, ah!

Y cuando el sol ya se va,

Sentir la brisa al pasar

Fragante por los azahares.

Village, my little village

 

Village, my little village,

I miss your evenings.

Dearest little village,

I cannot forget you.

How much confined

I bear in my soul this afternoon.

Ah, if only I could once more

Dream under your willow trees,

Whilst looking at the clouds, ah!

And when the sun is leaving,

If I could feel the breeze on me,

Fragrant between the orange trees.

Pampa sola

 

Ancha llanura tendida

Silencio y espartillares;

Tristeza del horizonte

Llamando a las soledades.

 

Eco lejano y perdido

De mi voz en la llanura;

El tiempo está detenido

Por nudos de larga ausencia.

 

Quedó muy lejos el río

Su rumbo ya se perdió ;

Llanura sin un camino

Tus huellas buscando voy.

 

Qué soledad en la tierra,

Mi pampa tan solitaria!

Parece que en la llanura

Muriendo está mi esperanza.

 

Cómo se alargan las sombras

En el largo atardecer!

Se van para el horizonte,

De allá no habrán de volver.

Solitary pampa

 

Vast expanded plain

Silence and plants;

Sadness of the horizon

Who calls for loneliness.

 

Lost and remote echo

Of my voice in the plain;

Time is detained

By nodes of long absence.

 

The river is very far now

Its noise has been lost ;

Plain without any path,

I'm looking for your tracks.

 

How much loneliness in the land,

My solitary pampa!

It seems that in the plain

My hope is dying.

 

How long are the shadows

In the lenghty dusk!

They're all leaving towards the horizon,

And they won't come back from there.

El Sampedrino

 

Soy nacido en San Pedro,

Pa' que lo sepa.

Unos vientos me traen

Y otros me llevan.

Es triste amigo,

Trajinarse en la huella

Sin un cariño.

Tal vez algún cariño

En que ir pensando

Por esos campos solo,

Al ir arreando...

 

San Pedro de mi vida,

Quisiera verte

Antes de que me piale

Por ahí la muerte.

Pero, aparcero,

Si ella no está en el pago

Y a nadie tengo...

A nadie tengo, amigo,

Como decía.

Ni me espera la prenda

Que yo quería.

 

Trebolares fresquitos,

Gramilla tierna,

Margaritas silvestres

Que fueron de ella ;

No digan, flores,

Que ha pasado un resero

Llorando amores...

The man from San Pedro

 

I was born in San Pedro,

So that you know.

Some winds bring me here

And some others carry me away.

It's sad, my friend,

To travel on the path

With no love.

But maybe there is one love

Of that I can think of

Alone in those fields,

Whilst driving the cattle...

 

San Pedro of my soul,

I would like to see you

Before death comes here

To steal me.

But, as a humble sharecropper,

If she is not around,

And if I have nobody...

I have nobody, my friend,

As I was saying.

The only one I wanted

Is not even waiting for me.

 

Fresh clovers,

Tender grass,

Wild daisies

Which once belonged to her ;

Do not tell, flowers,

That a humble cattle man passed through here

Crying for his love...

La siempre viva

 

Creía yo que el viento era mi amigo.

Cantaba mis canciones junto conmigo.

Y las llevaba lejos, campeando noches,

Peinando el trigo.

 

Creía yo que el río me acompañaba.

Yo no tengo guitarra ; él la tocaba.

Bordoneaba tan lindo

Cuando en las piedras remoloneaba.

 

Creía, mal creía. Sólo una canción vieja

Sabe decirme el viento. Esa que no me deja.

Y el río llora bajito

La siempre viva nostalgia añeja.

 

Creía yo que el viento mi amigo era.

Que sabría un camino que no volviera.

Galopando en sus alas quise dejarla.

Ay ! Si pudiera...

 

Creía yo que el río me mostraría

Cómo teje el olvido su melodía

Que con su mano fresca

El pecho ardido me lavaría.

 

Creía, mal creía. Sólo una canción vieja

Sabe decirme el viento. Esa que no me deja.

Y el río llora bajito

La siempre viva nostalgia añeja.

The ancient nostalgia

 

I thought the wind was my friend.

It was singing my songs along with me.

And I was carrying them, going through nights,

Combing the wheat.

I thought the river was escorting me.

I don't have a guitar ; it was playing for me.

It was humming so beautifully

Whilst it was shuffling amongst the rocks.

 

I thought, but I was wrong. The wind can only tell

An old song. This one that never leaves me.

And the river cries silently

The ancient nostalgia that's always alive.

 

I thought the wind was my friend.

I thought it knew a forgotten path.

Galloping in its wings, I tried to release myself

Ah ! If only I could...

 

I thought the river would show me

How oblivion weaves its own song,

I thought that the river, with its fresh hand,

Would wash my scorching chest.

 

I thought, but I was wrong. The wind can only tell, An old song.

This one that never leaves me.

And the river cries silently

The ancient nostalgia that's always alive.

Vidala del secadal

 

Ya más no ha de importunarte

El que tanto te adoraba.

A los desiertos se va

El que te amaba.

Que digan los manantiales

De mi puro sentimiento. Que lo repita la flor,

Lo diga el viento.

Sólo me iré,

Sólo me voy. Solita mi alma,

Lonely is my soul,

Conmigo estoy.

 

Ya nadie me reconoce

Por mi nombre de costumbre

Soy el que suele habitar

La soledumbre.

 

Amores que me alumbraron,

De su gloria me despido.

Los secadales me ven anochecido.

 

Sólo me iré,

Sólo me voy.

Solita mi alma,

Conmigo estoy.

Song of the thirsty lands

 

He is not going to bother you anymore,

The one who adored you so much.

He's leaving to the desert,

The one who used to love you.

Let the springs talk

About my pure feelings.

Let the flowers repeat them,

Let the wind carry them.

Alone, I will leave,

Alone, I'm going.

I am with myself.

 

And no one recognizes me

Under my usual name

I am the one who is used to live

In loneliness.

 

Loves that have enlighted me,

I bid farewell to your glories.

I bid farewell to your glories.

 

Alone, I will leave,

Alone, I'm going.

Lonely is my soul,

I am with myself.

La tempranera

 

Eras la tempranera,

Niña primera, amanecida flor.

Suave rosa galana,

La más bonita tucumana.

 

Frente de adolescente,

Gentil milagro de tu trigueña piel.

Negros ojos sinceros,

Paloma tibia de Monteros.

 

Era la primavera,

La pregonera del delicado amor.

Lloro amargamente

Aquél romance adolescente.

 

Dura tristeza oscura,

Frágil amor que no supe retener.

Oye, paloma mía,

Esta tristísima elegía...

 

Al bailar esta zamba fue Que rendido, te amé.

Eras mi tempranera,

De mis arrestos prisionera.

Mía ya te sabía

Cuando, por fin, te coroné.

 

The early one

 

You were the early one,

Very first young girl, flower of the dawn

Sweet galana rose,

The most beautiful girl from Tucumán.

 

Adolescent forehead,

Gracious miracle of your half-brown skin.

Black sincere eyes,

Lukewarm dove from Monteros.

 

It was spring,

The champion of the delicate love.

I bitterly weep

This adolescent romance.

 

Tough and dark sorrow,

Fragile love that I was not able to withhold.

Listen, my dove,

To this very sad elegy.

 

It was when we danced this zamba

That, surrendered, I fell in love with you.

You were my early one,

Captive of my arrests.

You knew you were mine

When, at last, I crowned you.

Matyas Seiber (1905 - 1960) - Four French folk songs

Réveillez-vous

 

Réveillez-vous belle endormie

Réveillez-vous car il est jour.

Mettez la tête à la fenêtre

Vous entendrez parler de vous

La belle a mis le pied à terre

Tout doucement s'en est allée

D'une main elle ouvrit la porte:

« Entrez, galant, si vous m'aimez »

Mais la belle s'est endormie

Entre les bras de son amant

Et celui-ci qui la regarde

En lui voyant ses yeux mourants

Que les étoiles sont brillantes

Et le soleil est éclatant

Mais les beaux yeux de ma maîtresse

Et sont encore les plus charmants.

Wake up

 

Wake up, sleeping beauty

Wake up, the day is here.

Poke your head out of the window

And you will hear people talking about you.

The beauty puts her foot on the ground

And left slowly.

She opened the door with one hand :

« Come in, young man, if you love me »

But the beauty fell asleep

In the arms of her lover

Whilst this one looks at her

Watching her dying eyes.

How shiny are the stars

And the sun is bright,

But the beautiful eyes of my love

Are definitely more charming.

J'ai descendu

 

J'ai descendu dans mon jardin

Pour y cueillir le rosmarin.

Gentil coquelicot, mesdames,

Gentil coquelicot nouveau.

Je n'en avais pas cueilli trois brins,

Qu'un rossignol vint sur ma main.

Gentil coquelicot, mesdames,

Gentil coquelicot nouveau.

Il me dit trois mots en latin :

Que les hommes ne valent rien.

Gentil coquelicot, mesdames,

Gentil coquelicot nouveau.

Que les hommes ne valent rien

Et les garçons encore moins

Gentil coquelicot, mesdames,

Gentil coquelicot nouveau.

Des dames il ne me dit rien

Mais des demoiselles beaucoup de bien

Gentil coquelicot, mesdames,

Gentil coquelicot nouveau.

I went downstairs

 

I went downstairs in my garden

To pick some rosemary.

Lovely poppy, ladies,

Lovely fresh poppy.

I had barely picked three strands

When a nightingale came on my hand.

Lovely poppy, ladies,

Lovely fresh poppy.

He says a few words in latin to me:

That men are worthless.

Lovely poppy, ladies,

Lovely fresh poppy.

That men are worthless

And young men even more

Lovely poppy, ladies,

Lovely fresh poppy.

About the ladies, he says nothing

But compliments young girls.

Lovely poppy, ladies,

Lovely fresh poppy.

Le rossignol

 

Rossignolet des bois,

Rossignolet sauvage

Apprends-moi le langage

Apprends-moi à parler ;

Apprends-moi la manière, comment il faut aimer.

« La belle, on dit partout

que vous avez des pommes,

Des pommes, des reinettes

qui sont dans vot'jardin ;

Permettez-moi, la belle, que j'y porte la main. »

 

« Non, je ne permets pas

que l'on touche à mes pommes.

Apportez-moi la lune,

le soleil à la main.

Vous toucherez les pommes

qui sont dans mon jardin. »

The nightingale

 

Little nightingale of the woods

Wild little nightingale,

Teach me the language

Teach me how to speak ;

Teach me how to love.

« Beauty, everyone says

that you have apples,

Apples and reinette apples,

in your garden ;

Allow me, beautiful, to touch them ».

 

« No, I don't want anybody

to touch my apples.

If you bring me the moon

and the sun in your hand.

You will touch the apples

that are in my garden. »

Marguerite, elle est malade

 

Marguerite, elle est malade

Il lui faut le médecin.

Médecin par sa visite

Lui a défendu le vin

Médecin va-t-en au diable,

Puisque tu défends le vin !

« J'en ai bu toute ma vie,

J'en boirai jusqu'à la fin ! »

Marguerite is ill

 

Marguerite is ill,

She needs the doctor.

The doctor visited her

And banned wine for her.

Doctor, go to hell,

If you ban wine !

« I have drunk wine all my life,

And I will drink until the last day ! »

Heitor Villa-Lobos (1887 - 1959) - Modinha

Modinha

 

Na solidaõ da minha vida morrerei,

Querida, do teu desamôr,

Muito embora me desprezes,

Te amarei constante,

Sem que a ti distante

Chegue a longe e triste voz

do trovador.

 

Feliz te quero ! Mas se um dia

Toda essa alegria

Se mudasse em dor,

Ouvirias do passado

A voz do meu carinho

Repetir baixinho

A meiga e triste confissaõ

Do meu amôr !

Song

 

I will die in the loneliness of my own life,

My love, because you don't love me,

You despise me

And I will love you constantly,

Without you hearing

The remote and sorrowful voice

of the troubadour.

 

It makes me happy to love you ! But if one day

All this joy

Should transform into pain,

From the past then you will hear

The voice of my tenderness

Repeat gently

The gentle and sad confession

Of my love !

Translations : Béatrice de Larragoïti.

Programme Notes

Ashley Blasse is a multi-discipline guitarist from London, UK. Ashley studied classical guitar with Tim Pells (Colchester Institute), Mark Ashford (Coventry University/Birmingham Conservatoire) and Graham Devine (Trinity Laban). For his performances of solo classical repertoire, Ashley has won awards from the Bromley Music Society and Lennox Berkeley Society.

Further afield, Ashley has performed in a wide range of orchestral and large ensembles. He has worked with the opera company Cantata Dramatica; the Kings Philharmonic orchestra; the RAF Wind Band and the Bellot Ensemble.

In the realm of popular music Ashley also enjoys a varied career as a live performer and studio musician. He has performed with singer-songwriters Parnell-Page, Ronké, and Lauren L'aimant. In the recording studio, he was worked as a programmer and guitarist alongside with composers Neil Stemp, Daniel Mills and Sönke Prigge.

Currently, Ashley is developing his work in chamber music, collaborating with fellow guitarist Dom Cesarz and soprano Béatrice de Larrangoïti in a series of duet programmes throughout 2017 and 2018.

Winner of the First Prize at the International Singing Competition of Les Clés d'Or and finalist of the London Song Festival and Schubert Competition, Béatrice de Larragoïti is a French and Brazilian soprano who just completed a Postgraduate Artist Diploma and a Master of Music at the Trinity Laban Conservatoire of Music and Dance with Alison Wells and Kelvin Lim.

Béatrice's operatic experience include the roles of Dido (Dido and Aeneas, Purcell), Micaëla (Carmen, Bizet), Madame Lidoine, (Dialogues des Carmélites, Poulenc), Ariane (Ariane et Barbe-Bleue, Dukas), Donna Elvira (Don Giovanni) Diana (La Calisto, Cavalli), Miss Jessel (The Turn of the Screw, Britten), Nadia (La Veuve Joyeuse, Lehár) and Euridice (Orfeo ed Euridice, Haydn).

Béatrice took part in masterclasses with Dame Felicity Lott (as part of the Oxford Lieder Festival), Mignon Dunn, Susan Bullock, Ian Partridge, François Leroux, Kathryn Harries, David Gowland, Eugene Asti, Sophie Pondjiclis, Maryse Castets, Gérard Théruel, Nicholas Kraemer, Jacqueline Bonnardot and Caroline Dumas.

Béatrice has worked with conductors such as Vincent Dumestre, Yvan Cassar, Alexandre Piquion, Philippe Hui, Philip Sunderland, Marouan Mankar, Léonard Ganvert, Catherine Simonpietri, Eric Lederhandler; and directors such as Humbert Camerlo, Albert-André Lheureux, Susan Moore, Simon Iorio, Olivia Fuchs, James Hurley, Toria Banks, Yves Coudray and Jérôme Pouly from the Comédie-Française.

Amongst other places, Béatrice has performed in venues such as the Wigmore Hall, the Palais des Congrès de Paris, Salle Cortot and Théâtre Adyar in Paris, Opéra de Troyes, Théâtre du Casino d'Enghien-les-Bains, Blackheath Halls, the Romanian Embassy in Paris, Château de Carcès, Château d'Herbeumont, Château d'Ooidonk and Palais des Princes-Evêques de Liège (Belgium).

Oratorio and concert highlights include the solo soprano parts in Bach's St. John's Passion, Gounod's Requiem, Beethoven's Mass in C major, Vivaldi's Lauda Jerusalem RV 609 and Laudate pueri RV 602, Berlioz's La mort de Cléopâtre, Grandval's Cantate Rien du tout and Tarik O'Regan's Two Emily Dickinson Settings.

Most recently, Béatrice sang Micaëla in Southgate Opera's production of Carmen, and Winnie in Banished, a world premiere by Stephen McNeff, directed by Elaine Kidd and conducted by Jessica Cottis. She was also invited to the Opéra de Baugé Festival 2016 season, singing Berginella and Ninetta in Offenbach's La Périchole and Cis in Albert Herring, roles for which she has been awarded the Gil-Rodriguez Prize.

Béatrice has performed María, the title role in Astor Piazzola's opera María de Buenos-Aires in September at the Arcola Theatre as part of the Grimeborn Festival, with the Operaview company and the Deco Ensemble, conducted by Ricardo Gosalbo.

Recent engagements include covering the role of Diana in Cavalli's La Calisto in English Touring Opera's autumn season, Donna Elvira with the Hornton Chamber Orchestra conducted by Jacky Wong, and Miss Jessel in The Turn of the Screw, directed by Julia Hollander.

Her 2017 engagements include a recital of Spanish songs and arias at the Teatro del Ateneo in Madrid, and the role of Ottavia in L'Incoronazione di Poppea with Hampstead Garden Opera, conducted by Oliver-John Ruthven and directed by Simon Iorio. She has a serie of concerts with guitarist Ashley Blasse, and will take part in the Schumann Festival concert series curated by Eugene Asti, performing 5 Gedichte der Königin Maria Stuart. In June, she will give a recital of French songs and opera arias at the Carnegie Hall in New-York with pianist Matthieu Esnult. 

Ashley Blasse is a classical guitarist from South East London. At age 17, he won the guitar class at the Bromley Music Society music festival, and was also a runner-up in the final of the festival. In 2013 he placed 2nd in The Lennox Berkeley Guitar Award at the Oxford Music Festival, in 2014 he won this competition as well as placing 2nd in the Alison Stephens Competition at Trinity Laban. Ashley has previously studied with Graham Devine, Mark Ashford and Tim Pells as well as taking part in master classes with Clive Caroll, Xue-Fei Yang, Jose Antonio Escobar, Tino Andersen and Morgan Szymanski. Ashley is now concentrating his energy for classical music on solo and chamber repertoire. Previously, he has worked with the Bellot Ensemble from London, and the Orchestra Octavio (Oркестр Октавио) from Russia in the performance of various Vivaldi concerti.

Shaping a distinctive career driven by unusual repertoire choices and wide-ranging performance experiences, French-Brazilian soprano Béatrice de Larragoïti is an ardent defender of rare French opera, and is praised for her dark lyric tone and poised interpretations. Having spent her childhood in Spain, the Hispanic repertoire is particularly close to her heart. Most recently, Béatrice covered the role of Diana in Cavalli's La Calisto with English Touring Opera, and was invited to take part in the Opéra de Baugé Festival, singing Berginella and Ninetta in Offenbach's La Périchole and Cis in Albert Herring, roles for which she was awarded the Gil-Rodriguez scholarship. After studying at the Ecole Normale Alfred Cortot in Paris, Béatrice graduated from the Trinity Laban Conservatoire of Music and Dance, obtaining a Master of Music and a Postgraduate Artist Diploma with distinction under Alison Wells. Béatrice also holds degrees in Art History from the Sorbonne University and the Ecole du Louvre.