Songs My Mother Taught Me

Sunday 9 November 2008 at 7.30pm

Songs My Mother Taught Me Magdalena Kozˇená mezzo-soprano Malcolm Martineau piano Schulhoff

INTERVAL 20 minutes

Folksongs and Dances from the Teˇ sˇ ínsko Region:

Martinu˚

When I was on mummy’s lap Come and sit in my trap I want to dance the Cossack dance

Songs on Two Pages

Dvorˇ ák Love Songs, Op. 83

Eben

Evening Songs, Op. 3:

Little Sorrows

I dreamt you were dead

Novák

Gypsy Melodies, Op. 55:

Fairytale of the Heart, Op. 8 Moravian Folk Poetry in Songs:

And the wood is quiet all around Songs My Mother Taught Me The strings are tuned

The Little Bench Game Warden Little Apple Uneasy Musicians

Each half of tonight’s concert will last approximately 35 minutes. The performance will end at approximately 9.00pm.

Janácˇ ek

Silesian Songs from Helena Salichová’s Collection: Hey, what nightingale is this one? In the black wood

Barbican Hall The Barbican is provided by the City of London Corporation.

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Programme text printed on 100% recycled materials.

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Notes

Songs My Mother Taught Me Patrick O’Connor in conversation with Magdalena Kozˇ ená

Magdalena Kozˇ ená says that spending so much time, as she does, singing in French, German or Italian, it is a special pleasure to return to the Czech language. ‘Of course, your own language is always the most comfortable to sing in. There’s no language coach standing beside you in rehearsal, telling you you’re pronouncing something incorrectly! And in your own language you can always get the best colours in the voice. Many of the songs I have chosen for this concert have been with me for a long time. Wherever I have been, I have included some of them in recitals. They are in my blood: when I sing them, it’s as if I’m not working.’

of it. This is all part of the folkloric tradition. There is a great pride in the individuality of each region.’ As a child, Kozˇ ená remembers often going to the village festivals, where there would be gatherings with everyone in traditional costume, ‘And then the great pleasure they took in tasting wine in cellars. The musicians would come, playing in the gypsy style, with violin and cimbalom, and people would drink and sing. That was always so much fun.’

Erwin Schulhoff (1894–1942) makes perhaps the most sophisticated use of Czech themes in his songs from Teˇ sˇ ínsko. A pupil of Debussy, he was also one of the For this recital, Kozˇ ená says that she wanted to try and earliest Czech composers to take jazz seriously, and to demonstrate the wide range of Czech music, especially incorporate its influence into his symphonic work. that which has been inspired by folk melodies and poetry. Schulhoff was very much a man of his time: he was ‘Now, for people who don’t know the language, it’s a bit influenced by Dada, by Soviet Social Realism, as well as hard to explain. You see, in Moravia there are scores – the apparent opposites of the 12-tone music of the maybe hundreds – of different dialects. Virtually every Second Viennese School and American ragtime and village has its own dialect. So people hearing it for the jazz. He was a pianist with the Jaroslav Jesˇ ek jazz first time, even if they know Czech, won’t understand a lot orchestra in Prague in the 1930s. After the German

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Notes

invasion of Czechoslovakia in 1939, Schulhoff became a victim of the Nazi pogrom. ‘His story is tragic, I have also recorded some of his German songs in the past. I find that in his arrangements, which are often very witty, you can always hear a certain kind of hope. For a lot of these artists, there was a greed for living every moment: they knew they didn’t have much time left. Yet they often dealt with this dramatic, dreadful time, in a very optimistic way. I think his music deserves much more attention.’ Petr Eben (1929–2007), unlike Schulhoff, survived the Holocaust (he was imprisoned in the concentration camp at Buchenwald). For many years a professor at Prague University, he also had a major career as a concert pianist. His music is rooted in his spiritual beliefs, and his fascination with medieval and Renaissance literature and art. Magdalena Kozˇ ená knew Eben from her student days. ‘He was a very religious man, and I think you can hear that spirituality in his music. One can say that this is absolutely modern music, but then he also wanted to use15th-century poetry, and present it to us through his own eyes and ears. I also sang his music when I was at the start of my career as a student. He is a very important

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composer for the Czech people. His songs are very well written, and the choice of poetry is always fascinating.’ Víteˇ zslav Novák (1870–1949) was encouraged at an early age by Brahms, who recommended him to the Berlin music publisher Simrock, who issued some of his early piano cycles. From 1896 onwards, Novák made regular visits to Moravia, studying the folklore and music of the country. His group of songs, Op. 8 (Pohádka srdce, ‘Fairytale of the Heart’) coincided with the beginning of a romantic, unhappy, involvement with the singer Josefina Javurková. Kozˇ ená adds, ‘A lot of Czech music is still very littleknown, so my idea in these concerts was to juxtapose songs by all these very different composers, but in doing that to try and show the huge range that there is. There is a very big difference, say, between the simplicity of some of the Janácˇ ek and Martinuo arrangements, and Novák’s much more sophisticated style, but even his songs I can hear something very Czech, very close to all of us.’ The modern popularity of the music of Leosˇ Janácˇ ek (1854–1928) has overshadowed the work of nearly all

Notes

other Czech composers. As Kozˇ ená grew up in Brno, where Janácˇ ek lived, she feels a particular affinity with his music. ‘Although he wasn’t born in Brno, it’s so connected to him as a person, one can feel his presence. Some of these little folk melodies that he arranged are really extremely simple. But even with the tiniest inflections he immediately turns them into personal statements. You can identify the composer straight away. And folk music was enormously important to him – you can tell from the way he used so many of its motifs in his operas. I just wish that he’d written more mezzo roles! But he needed that extra strength of the dramatic soprano voice – impulsive and emotional – to achieve the big range.’ Janácˇ ek’s biographer, John Tyrrell, has written: ‘Eastern Moravian folk music (Janácˇ ek’s focus of interest) shares the melodically and rhythmically richer irregularities of word-based Slovak, Hungarian and Romanian folk music. In this sense Janácˇ ek drew on sources that brought him closer to his contemporary Bartók than to his Bohemian predecessors Dvorˇ ák and Smetana.’

Bohuslav Martinuo (1890–1959) came from the Bohemian-Moravian border country. Although his initial works drew on Czech folk music, Martinuo was early on attracted to French culture, and after the First World War went to live in Paris, where he studied with Roussel. Despite the immense sophistication of much of the music Martinuo composed in France and later the USA, he never completely abandoned his roots, and in 1944 composed the Songs on Two Pages, based on Czech themes. Though he was an immensely prolific composer (there are more than 25 operas and ballets), much of his music remains little-known. Just as 60 years ago, few people outside Czechoslovakia knew anything of Janácˇ ek, so Martinuo awaits reappraisal, and a strong musical champion to bring his works to a wider audience. Antonín Dvorˇ ák (1841–1904), remains the most popular of all Czech composers. Growing up amid the strongest possible folk-music influences – his father was an innkeeper, and played the zither – Dvorˇ ák went on to bring his country’s music to the attention of an international public. But although his orchestral and chamber music is

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Notes

widely performed, only one of his operas – Rusalka – has achieved anything like a permanent place in the international repertory. Similarly, although Dvorˇ ák composed dozens of songs, one remains more famous than all the others – ‘Songs My Mother Taught Me’, from his Gypsy Melodies, Op. 55. Why should this be? Magdalena Kozˇ ená tries to explain: ‘It’s hard to say. The melody is very catchy, which helps. He published it first of all in German, and it caught on very fast. Maybe if people had heard all the others as well, they might have chosen another.’ There is a continuity to Kozˇ ená’s programming, for Dvorˇ ák, Janácˇ ek and Martinuo all knew one another, and later the tradition passed to Novák, Schulhoff and Eben. ‘I sang Martinuo from right at the start, when I was a student; there are so many of his songs that are good for that learning process because the vocal line is often very easy. I certainly included some of them at my very first recital when I was student. But it can be a deceptive

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simplicity. The later composers are much more sophisticated in their approach, in the way they use the folk melodies, but those melodies are still there, still important.’ Were these songs that Magdalena Kozˇ ená’s mother taught her? She says that there are indeed songs here that she knew as a child, and which she heard in the village festivals, from musicians who kept alive the traditions of Czech and Moravian folk poetry and song. ‘My mother is not a professional singer, not at all. But she loved to sing, and she knew a huge number of songs. There is a particular tradition of singing to children in our country, I would say much stronger than one sees any more in the West. It was really important, that in each family these songs would be handed down, taught to the children.’ Programme note © Patrick O’Connor

Texts and translations

Erwin Schulhoff (1894–1942) Národní písneˇ a tance Teˇsˇínska

Folksongs and Dances from the Teˇsˇínsko Region

Kdyzˇ sem byla mamince na klineˇ Kdyzˇ sem byla mamince na klineˇ , hej, na klineˇ , hej, chodivali chlapci ke mneˇ i v zimeˇ , a i v zimeˇ , hej!

When I was on mummy’s lap When I was on mummy’s lap, hey, on her lap, hey, the lads visited me even in winter, even in winter, hey!

Kdyzˇ sem byla trochu veˇ tsˇ i pannu. veˇ tsˇ i pannu, hej, chodivali chlapci za mnu, jen za mnu, enem za mnu, hej!

When I was a grown-up maid, a grown-up maid, hey, the lads used to come for me, only me, for me alone, hey!

Sidej na vuz Sidej na vuz, kochani moje, neˇ pomozˇe plakani tvoje, neˇ pomozˇe, mily bozˇe, uzˇ su konicˇ ky ve dvorˇ e, sidej na vuz muj, kochani moje.

Come and sit in my trap Come and sit in my trap, my sweetheart, there’s no need for you to cry, no need, dear God, the horses are already waiting, sit in my trap, my sweetheart.

Uzˇ by rada na vuz sidala, esˇ cˇ ech otcu neˇ deˇ kovala, deˇ kuju vam, otcˇ e mily, byl steˇ o meˇ starostlivy, uzˇ neˇ budeˇ teˇ , zustanˇteˇ sbohem.

I should very much like to sit in your trap, but I haven’t yet thanked my father, thank you, dear father, you have taken good care of me, do not worry any longer, I am bidding you farewell.

Uzˇ by rada na vuz sidala, esˇ cˇech matce neˇ deˇ kovala, deˇ kuju vam, ma maticˇ ko, za vasˇ e vychovanicˇ ko, zustanˇteˇ sbohem, mamulko moja.

I should very much like to sit in your trap, but I haven’t yet thanked my mother, thank you, dear mother, for bringing me up, I am bidding you farewell, my dear mummy.

Kozaka by tancovala Kozaka by tancovala, Kozaka mi hrejteˇ , A ktereho jo mam rada, Teho zˇe mi dejteˇ ! Davali mi peˇ rveˇ iho, Neˇ stojim jo o neˇ ho, Davali mi druhieho, Tezˇ neˇ stojim o neˇ ho.

I want to dance the Cossack dance I want to dance the Cossack dance, play the Cossack for me, and the one that I love, give him to me! They gave me one, I didn’t care for him, they gave me another, I didn’t care for him either.

Please turn page quietly 7

Texts and translations Pasala volky Pasala volky na bukovineˇ , meˇ la ze sebu skrˇ ipky jedineˇ , i grala, zpivala, svoje sive, sive volky pasala.

She was grazing her oxen She was grazing her oxen in the beech grove, she had nothing but her fiddle with her, she played, she sang, and her grey oxen grazed.

Pasla jich pasla, ezˇ jich ztratila, ach ja neˇ sˇ t’astna, coch to zrobila, i placˇ e a chodi, kdo mi moje sive volky navruti.

Grazing them like that, she lost them. ‘Alas, poor wretch, what have I done,’ she walks along crying, ‘who will give me back my grey oxen?’

Uslysˇ el Jasˇ o placˇ , narˇ ikani, prˇ ileteˇ l ku ni bez zavolani. Deˇ vusˇ ko, co mi dasˇ ? Za pusinku hned tu svoje volky masˇ .

Jasˇ a heard her crying, lamenting, and he rushed up to her unbidden. ‘Fair maid, what will you give me? For a kiss you will have your oxen back in a trice.’

Oj, kdybys ty mi volky zas nalaz, dala by tobeˇ pusinku zaraz, oj zaraz, oj zaraz, sedmdesat sedm razy, raz po raz.

‘Hey, if you retrieved my oxen for me, I would give you a kiss on the spot, on the spot, oh, on the spot, seventy-seven on the trot, one after another.’

Uteˇ kal Jasˇ o azˇk bukovineˇ a prˇ ignal volky, oddal divcˇ ineˇ . Divcˇ ino, volky masˇ , slubovalas dat’ pusinku, dat’ zaraz.

Jasˇ a ran into the beech grove and rounded up the oxen. ‘My beauty, you have your oxen, now you promised to give me a kiss.’

Dala by tobeˇ pusinku, dala, kdyby mamulka za mnu neˇ stala. Divcˇ ino, cˇ achrajko, slubovalas a neˇ dalas, ciganko!

‘I would kiss you, I would, if my mummy were not watching over me.’ ‘You minx of a gypsy girl, you have gone back on your promise.’

Petr Eben (1929–2007) Malé smutky

Little Sorrows

Plácˇ ze Spánku Dotvé dusˇ e, která vic nezˇ rána od narození meˇ bolela na svuo j obraz chteˇ la bych se divat jako do cˇ erného jezera, aby se jak slaná slza v slze smutek muo j v tvém smutku rozplynul. Ale kde jsi? Ráno prˇ i cˇ esání vevlasech mi praská drobná sul.

Crying in one’s sleep How I wish I could gaze deep into your soul, which hurts me so deeply, like a wound; how I wish I could gaze upon my own image, as if it were a lake, dark and black as night, so that my sorrow and yours might run together like tears, salty and clear as spring water. But where are you? When I brush my hair in the morning, tiny salt crystals will crackle in my hair.

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Texts and translations Láska Kdyby ted’ ocˇ i zdvih, ’ma meˇ rád’, rˇ ekla bych, ’ma meˇ rád’. Zˇe je vsˇ ak nechal tak, sedl si na neˇ pták, musí spát. Zˇe je vsˇ ak nechal by’t, mohu jak dosud snít ’ma meˇ rád?’ Zrozmaru, jenom tak, na ocˇ i sed mi pták, musím spát.

Love Had he looked up just now, I’d know: he loves me, he loves me! A little bird came, softly closed his eyelids, so that now he is still fast asleep. Since he has not stirred, can I still dream of his kisses? Oh, that a little bird might softly cover my eyes as well, because I too must sleep.

Chlebové Drobky Napadlo na decˇ ku pár chlebovy’ch drobecˇ kuo. Za chvilenku dvoje dlaneˇ

Breadcrumbs Strewn across the snow-white tablecloth lie crumbs of dark bread; two pairs of hands flutter anxiously above them, like two butterflies, as if by deliberate design: you and I, each blown by the summer wind, over both the table and the bread. What if our fingers should meet, should softly brush one another in secret? Our hands might perhaps – yes – even touch.

slétnou na neˇ jako moty’li, cose stolu poletí. Snad zavadí o malícˇ ky, snad se dotknou prstenícˇ ky ruce tvé i mé, snad se dotkneme. Dy’m z Cigarety Kourˇ í si, kourˇ í milácˇ ek, ke stropu stoupá oblácˇ ek meˇ kounce. Mlcˇ ísˇ i ty a mlcˇ ím já, zdaleka hudba doléhá tichounce. Kourˇ í si, kourˇ í, muoj mily’, vznásˇ i se mrácˇ ek spanily’ vy’sˇ a vy’sˇ , vy’sˇ a vy’sˇ . Vine se mrácˇ ek kolem mne a prˇ esto semne nedotkne, jenty smísˇ .

Cigarette smoke My darling is smoking! I watch you, you say nothing, and I … I too say nothing, just like you. A little cloud rises ever so gently, the sound of far-off music reaches our ears, ever so quietly. My darling is smoking, smoking and saying nothing; see how the little cloud rises ever higher! It drifts gently over me, hovers lightly and frizzles in my face, but it doesn’t dare to touch me – that’s for you to do!

Smutny’ Den Je smutny’ den, den sˇ edivy’, jdou mraky plné deste. Muoj milácˇ ek je podivín, byl vzˇdycky, bude jesˇ teˇ . Muoj milácˇ ek uzˇ není my’m, sedím tu zcela sama, zcela sama.

Miserable day What a grey day, what a funereal day! The rain clouds drift by. My darling is so strange and always will remain so. My darling no longer belongs to me, if indeed he ever, ever did! Please turn page quietly 9

Texts and translations Je smutny’ den, den sˇ edivy’, divám se do nezdnáma, do nezdnáma do nezdnáma.

What a grey day, what a funereal day! I sit and stare blankly into empty space, I sit all alone and gaze into space.

Víteˇzslav Novák (1870–1949) Pohádka srdce, Op. 8

Fairytale of the Heart, Op. 8

Písenˇ melancholická Jsou v sveˇ teˇ srdce ubohá, jezˇ neví co je sˇ teˇ stí, jimzˇ kazˇdy’ den a kazˇdá noc jen novou bolest veˇ stí.

Melancholy Song There are wretched hearts in the world, which do not know what happiness is, for which every day and every night bring only new pain.

Jsou v sveˇ teˇ srdce ubohá, jezˇ neví co je láska, v neˇ zˇ záhy jizˇ za mlady’ch let tak mnohá vryta vráska.

There are wretched hearts in the world, which do not know what love is, in which, since their early years, so many furrows have been carved.

Jsou v sveˇ teˇ srdce ubohá, jezˇ znají jenom touhy, vsˇ ak málokdo si vzpomene, jak v touhách zˇivot dlouhy’.

There are wretched hearts in the world, which know only longing, but hardly any of which remember how long life drags on in yearning.

Zda není snem? Zda není snem, zˇe vinul jsem teˇ k sobeˇ a líbal rucˇ ky, líbal tvárˇ e obeˇ a celoval zas vábné tvoje rety, azˇ v morˇ i blaha pomíjely sveˇ ty? Zda není snem, zˇe vinul jsem teˇ k sobeˇ ?

Isn’t it a dream? Isn’t it a dream that I held you close to me and kissed your hands, kissed both your cheeks and again kissed your charming lips until the world was drowned in a sea of delights? Isn’t it a dream that I held you close to me?

Zda není snem to celé moje sˇ teˇ stí, zˇe zkvetly znovu lásky ratolesti, zˇe srdce tvoje na my’ch prsou bilo, jak o tom dlouho srdce mé jen snilo, zda není snem to celé moje sˇ teˇ stí?

Isn’t it a dream, all that happiness of mine, that the shoots of our love have blossomed again, that I have felt your heart beating against my breast, the way my heart long only dreamt of, isn’t it a dream, all that happiness of mine?

Ach, byl to den tak luzny’, beze stínu, já v mysˇ lenkách teˇ jesˇ teˇ k sobeˇ vinu a líbám znova, líbám vroucneˇ zase, acˇ vsˇ e uzˇ zasˇ lo v neúprosném cˇ ase.

Ah, that was such an enchanting, cloudless day, in my thoughts I again hold you close to me, I kiss you anew, I kiss you again passionately, though inexorable time has engulfed everything.

To znovu zas jsem poznal, co je sˇ teˇ stí, a jaké blaho láska lásce veˇ stí, to opeˇ t zˇil jsem den v tom sveˇ teˇ zdejsˇ ím,

So I have come to know once more what happiness is, and what joy love promises to love, I have in this world been able to relive

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Texts and translations jenzˇ zˇití mého dnem byl nejkrásneˇ jsˇ ím. Zda není snem, zˇe vinul jsem teˇ k sobeˇ ?

the day that was the most beautiful of my life. Isn’t it a dream that I held you close to me?

Vecˇ er Jest vecˇ er, kourˇ í se z lesuo, cˇ ervánek stromy prokmitá, kytici z vrˇ esu ti nesu, je celá rosou pokryta.

Evening It is evening, the woods are smoky, twilight glimmers between the trees; I bring you a bouquet of heather, it is all covered in dew.

Kazˇdy’ ten nejmensˇ í kalich plá jakby protkán rubíny, nesu ti v teˇ ch kvítkách maly’ch, své lásky velké hlubiny.

Every tiniest calyx sparkles like a brocade of rubies. In these little flowers I bring you all the depth of my love.

Podzimní nálada Juzˇprˇ isˇ el podzim, sníh a mráz, kveˇ t se stromuo a listí strˇ ás’ a smutek prˇ ines’ v dusˇ i.

Autumn Mood Autumn has already come, snow and ice have made the blossom and leaves fall from the trees, and have brought sorrow into my soul.

Jen upomínek rychly’ let mneˇ chvíle sˇ teˇ stí vrací zpeˇ t, jak jaro mízu hrusˇ i.

Only the rapid flight of memories brings back moments of happiness to me, like the rising of spring sap.

A vzpomínám na vonny’ les, kde v nárucˇ tvou jsem poprv kles’, teˇ zlíbal v stromuo stínu.

And I remember the fragrant wood, where I first fell into your arms and kissed you in the shade of the trees.

Ó, drahá, vrat’ ty chvíle zas, necht’ hrˇ ejí v srdci v zimní cˇ as cozˇ nevidísˇ , jak hynu?

Oh, my dear, bring back those moments, so that they may warm my heart during the wintertime, do you not see how I am dying?

Azˇ prˇ ejde den Azˇ prˇ ejde den, azˇ budu spát, prˇ ijd’ na muo j hrob se podívat, jen podívat a neplacˇ moc; kdo usnul jizˇ, spí kazˇdy’ rád, a svatá je ta tichá noc, ta noc, kdyzˇprˇ ejde den.

Once the day is over Once the day is over, when I am sleeping, come and gaze on my grave, only look, do not cry much; those who have already fallen asleep are at peace, and holy is the silent night, the night that falls, once the day is over.

Meˇ l jsem teˇ rád, a ty to vísˇ , jak snadnila jsi dnuo mi tízˇ, co setrˇ elas mi slzí s rˇ as, jen prˇ ijd’ a rˇ ekni: Ty uzˇspísˇ , vsˇ ak na mne neˇ kde cˇ ekásˇ zas, vzˇdyt’ meˇ ls mne rád.

I loved you, and you well know how many of my days you brightened, and that you dried the tears on my eyelids, so come and say: You are now asleep, but wait for me again somewhere, for you always loved me. Please turn page quietly 11

Texts and translations

Leosˇ Janácˇ ek (1854–1928) Moravská lidová poezie v písních

Moravian Folk Poetry in Songs

Lavecˇ ka Ta nasˇ a lavecˇ ka, aj uzˇsa polámala, co sem se synecˇ kem, aj na ní sedávala.

The Little Bench That little bench of ours, it is broken now, where I used to sit with my beau.

Byla to lavecˇ ka, aj z drˇ eva olsˇ ového, byl ten muo j synecˇ ek srdenka falesˇ ného.

It was a little bench made of alder-wood, that beau of mine had a false heart.

Ta nasˇ a lavecˇ ka, na dveˇ sa rozdeˇ lila, zˇe nasˇ e srdenka obeˇ dveˇ rozlúcˇ ila.

That little bench of ours, broken in two, just as our two hearts have gone their separate ways.

Ty nasˇ a lavecˇ ko, aj zruo stni sa mi esˇ cˇ e, starodávny’ galán, aj navrat’ sa mi esˇ cˇ e!

O little bench of ours, become as you once were, give me back again my suitor of yesteryear.

Hájny Hájícˇ ku zeleny’ Kdo t’ a hájit bude? Myslivca zabili, Hajného nebude.

Game Warden Who’ll ward you now, my green wood sweet? The warden was killed, who’ll watch over you.

Hájícˇ ku zeleny’ Kdo t’ a hájit bude? Galánecˇ ko moja, Kdo k vám chodit bude?

Who’ll ward you now, my green wood sweet? My young fair maid, who will call on you?

Esˇ cˇ e sú hájící, Co ma hájívalí; Esˇ cˇ e sú sˇ ohajé, Co k nám chodívali.

Still there are wardens, who have warded me, as there are young lads who have called on me.

Esˇ cˇ e sú hájící, Co ma jájit budú, Esˇ cˇ e sú sˇ ohajé, Co k nám chodit budú.

Still there are wardens who will carry on warding me, as there are young lads who will carry on calling me.

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Texts and translations Jabúcˇ ko Fucˇ , veˇ trˇ ícˇ ku, z podolé, zronˇ jabúcˇ ko lebo dveˇ .

Little Apple Blow, wind, from the valley, bring down a little apple or two.

Neránˇaj neˇ zelené, ale peˇ kné cˇ ervené.

Do not blow down a green one, but a nice red one.

V zeleném je cˇ ervícˇ ek, a v cˇ erveném Janícˇ ek.

In the green is a little worm, and in the red my Johnny.

Tiha Teˇ zˇko je mi, teˇ zˇko Na mojim srdecˇ ku, Jak by mi ho zvazal∏ Hedbavnu sˇ nˇurecˇ ku.

Uneasy I’m feeling uneasy deep down in my heart, like it was bound, with a silk string tied up.

Hedbavnu sˇ nˇurecˇ ku Tu rozvazat’ mozˇu, Na tebe, synecˇ ku, Zapomeˇ t’ nemozˇu.

A silk string indeed, I can unbind, but you, my sweet lad, forget I can’t.

Muzikanti Muzikanti co deˇ láte, aj, máte husle, a nehráte!

Musicians What are you musicians doing? hey, you have violins but you are not playing!

Zahréte mneˇ na cimbále, at’ moja milá veselá je.

Play your cimbalom for me, to make my beloved merry.

Zahréte mneˇ na huslicˇ ky, a rozveselte ty drózˇicˇ ky.

Play your fiddles for me, and amuse the maidens.

Zahréte mneˇ na tó basu, a rozveselte vsˇ ecku chasu.

Play your double bass for me, and entertain all the village boys.

Zahréte mneˇ vsˇ eci spolu, a vyprovod’te meˇ azˇ domu.

Play all together for me, and escort me home.

Please turn page quietly 13

Texts and translations

Slezské písneˇ ze sbírky Heleny Salichové

Silesian Songs from Helena Salichová’s Collection

Aj co to je za slavicˇ ek Aj co to je za slavicˇ ek co tak sˇ umneˇ zpiva; a to je muj najmilejsˇ i, ze meˇ se vysmiva.

Hey, what nightingale is this one? Hey, what nightingale is this one that sings so sweetly; wait, it is my dear beloved, who is mocking me.

Neˇ vysmivaj se ty ze meˇ , z chudobnej deˇ vuchy; neˇ nosim ja strˇ ibra zlata ani drahe sˇ aty.

Do not mock me, a poor penniless girl; I do not wear silver, gold or expensive clothes.

Po prvni raz sem teˇ videˇ l, jak si kravy pasla; ty si se mi zalubila, bo’s sˇ umneˇ zpivala.

The first time I saw you, you were grazing the cows; you took my fancy, because you sang so sweetly.

Po druhy raz sem teˇ videˇ l, jak’s veˇ necˇ ek vila; prosil sem teˇ o veˇ necˇ ek, ty’s mi ho neˇ dala.

The second time I saw you, you were plaiting a garland; I asked you for the garland, but you didn’t give it to me.

Po trˇ eti raz sem teˇ videˇ l, jak’s ruzˇe trhala; prosil sem teˇ o ruzˇicˇ ku, ty’s mi ju neˇ dala.

The third time I saw you, you were picking roses; I asked you for a rose, But you didn’t give it to me.

Aj, dala si, aj, dala si, vrsˇ ky si strhala; z teho sem, deˇ vucho poznal, zˇe je laska mala.

Ah, but you did give to me the petals you plucked off; that showed me, dear girl, the feebleness of your love.

V cˇ ernym lese V cˇ ernym lese, ptacˇ ek zpiva, ma mila tam travu sbira, nasbirala ji moc, neˇ mohla si pomoc.

In the black wood In the black wood, a little bird is singing, my love is gathering grass there, she has collected too much, she couldn’t stop herself.

Nasbirala, natrhala, na mileho zavolala: pod’, sˇ uhajku, pod’, pod’, neˇ mozˇu si pomoc.

She gathered, she picked, she called out to her beau: come, my swain, come, I cannot stop myself.

INTERVAL 14

Texts and translations

Bohuslav Martinuo (1890–1959) Pisnicˇ ky na dve stránky

Songs on Two Pages

Deˇvcˇ e z Moravy Prˇ ileteˇ l ptácˇ ek z cizí krajiny, donesl psaní, v neˇ m pozdravení. Bych se podíval do zemeˇ cˇ eské, zˇe jsou tam taky deˇ vcˇ átka hezké.

A Girl from Moravia A little bird flew in from foreign parts, it brought a letter with a greeting in it. I should tour around the Bohemian lands, because there are pretty girls there too.

Zuo stanu radsˇ i v jihlavském kraji, najdu si deˇ vcˇ e hezké z Moravy. Moravka chodí prˇ ímo jak svíce, kazˇdá má k chlapcuo m uprˇ ímné srdce.

But I’d rather stay around Jihlava; I will find myself a pretty girl from Moravia. Moravian girls walk as upright as candles; everyone gives a faithful heart to her beau.

Súsedova stajnˇa U súseda nová stajnˇa a v tej stajnˇeˇ koneˇ vrané.

Our Neighbour’s Stable There’s a new stable at the neighbour’s, and in that stable raven-black horses.

A kdo na neˇ sedat bude? Kdo by jiny’ jak synecˇ ek.

And who will mount them? Who else but the young lad.

A cˇ ím on jich krmit bude? Peˇ knú drobunkú sekankú.

And what will he feed them? Nice bits of freshly cut hay.

Z cˇ eho on jich pojit bude? Z peˇ kné, ze zlaté putenky.

From what will he give them water? From a fine, golden pail.

Kaj su na nich jezdit bude? V cˇ irém poli chytat lanˇky.

Where will he go to ride them? He will hunt hinds across the fields.

Chytl on tam peˇ knú lanˇku, lanˇku, lanˇku jménem Anku.

There he caught a pretty hind, A hind, a hind by the name of Anka.

Meˇ la ona zlaté rozˇky, rozˇky a strˇ íbrné nozˇky.

She had golden antlers, golden antlers and silver hooves.

Ty rozˇky jí ulomíme a dzˇbánkuo z nich nalat’ dáme.

We will break off her antlers and make cups out of them.

Kdo z ty’ch dzˇbánkuo pijat’ bude? Kdozˇ by jiny’ jak synecˇ ek.

And who will drink from these cups? Who else but the young lad.

A co on z nich pijat’ bude? Cozˇ by jinsˇ í jak vínecˇ ko.

And what will he drink from them? What else but good wine. Please turn page quietly 15

Texts and translations Nadeˇje Hlaveˇ nka meˇ bolí, srdécˇ ko ve mneˇ hrá, zˇe muo j sˇ ohajícˇ ek jinó panenko má.

Hope My head is throbbing, my heart is in turmoil, because my beau has found another girl.

Jinó panenko má, jiné dary nosí, a já mám nádeˇ ju, zˇe se meˇ naprosí.

He has another girl, he takes gifts to another, and I live in hope that he will beg me to have him back.

Zˇe se meˇ naprosí, na kolínka klekne, nebude na tom dost’, jesˇ cˇ e klobók smekne.

That he will beg me, fall down on his knees, but this will not suffice, unless he doffs his hat to me.

Nesmeké, synecˇ ku, nesmeké klobóka, at’ lidi nerˇ eknó, zˇe jsu Bozˇí muka.

Do not doff, my lad, do not doff your hat, lest people mistake me for a roadside cross.

Zˇe jsu Bozˇí muka, co na poli stojí, zˇe za mnó pacholek cˇ ernooké chodí.

For a roadside cross, which stands in the fields and is visited by a black-eyed servant.

Hlásny’ Chodí hlásny’ po deˇ dineˇ , vesele si prozpeˇ vuje, Krista Pána zvelebuje.

The Watchman The watchman walks about the village, he cheerfully sings to himself and praises Christ the Lord.

Ach, mlcˇ , hlásnícˇ ku nespívy’, neb mneˇ usnul muo j rozmily’, na m˘ch rukách peˇ kn˘ch, bíly’ch.

Ah, be quiet, good watchman, do not sing, for my beloved has fallen asleep in my lovely white arms.

Nerada bych ho zbudila, nerada bych mu snu zrusˇ ila, by ho hlava nebolela.

I would not like to wake him, I would not like to disturb his dreams, so that his head does not hurt.

Tájna láska Chceme my sa, chceme, ale potajemneˇ . Neznaj sa, deˇ vcˇ ico, mezi ludma ke mneˇ .

Secret Love We want each other, we do, but secretly. Give me the cold shoulder, sweetheart, when we are amongst other folk.

Jak se nemám znáti, dyzˇ to ludé veˇ d’á, dyzˇ tvé cˇ erné ocˇ i dycky po mneˇ hled’á.

How am I supposed to ignore you, when everybody knows, when your black eyes are always looking for me.

Bozˇí muka U brneˇ nské Bozˇí moke, klecˇ í tam sˇ ohaj, sepnˇa roke. Prˇ isˇ la k neˇ mu jeho milá, a ptala se ho, co tam deˇ lá.

The Roadside Cross By a Brno roadside cross, a swain kneels there with his hands clasped. His beloved came up to him and asked him what he was doing there.

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Texts and translations Nedeˇ lám to, milá, mnoho, jenom se modlím Páno Boho. Habe mneˇ dal Pán Boh sˇ cˇ estí, habech já dostal deˇ vcˇ e hezky’.

I am not doing that much, my love, just praying to the Lord God. May the Lord God grant me happiness, may he bestow on me a pretty girl.

Zvolenovcí chlapci Zvolenovcí hezcí chlapci, nosí kazˇdy’ sˇ átek v kapci.

The Lads from Zvolen The handsome lads from Zvolen, each carries a handkerchief in his pocket.

A sˇ átecˇ ek peˇ kny’ bíly’, a kraje má malovany’.

A pretty white hankie with embroidered hems.

Kery’ dáme mládencovi, Horákovy’mu Frantovi?

Which one will we give to the young Franta Horák?

Dáme my mu ten ruo zˇovy’, od Kacˇ enky Chaloupkovy.

We will give him the pink one belonging to Kacˇ enka Chaloupková.

To je deˇ vcˇ e jako kvítek, dáme za ni dvacetnícˇ ek.

Now she’s a young girl in full bloom, we will give sixpence for her.

Estli vy to dobrˇ e víte, dvacetnícˇ ek dostanete!

If you know what it’s all about, you shall have the sixpence.

Jak bychom to neveˇ deˇ li, dyzˇsme vás spolu videˇ li?

How should we not know that, since we saw you together.

V tej komuo rce ste sedeˇ li, spolu ste se milovali!

You were sitting in that chamber whispering sweet nothings to one another.

Antonín Dvorˇ ák (1841–1904) Milostne písneˇ, Op. 83

Love Songs

Ó, nasˇi lásce nekvete Ó, nasˇ i lásce nekvete To vytouzˇené sˇ teˇ stí: A kdyby kvetlo, A kdyby kvetlo, Nebude dlouho, dlouho kvésti.

Oh, our love does not bloom Oh, our love does not bloom with that long-desired bliss: and if it should bloom, it would not be for long.

Procˇ by se slza v ohnivé Polibky vekrádala? Procˇ by mne v plné lásce své Ouzkostneˇ objímala?

Why would a teardrop steal into fiery kisses? Why would she embrace me so anxiously in the fullness of love? Please turn page quietly 17

Texts and translations Ó, trpké je to loucˇ ení, Kde nadeˇ j nezakyne: Tu srdce cítí ve chveˇ ní, Zˇe brzo, act, brzo bídneˇ zhyne.

Oh, bitter is that parting where hope does not die: the trembling heart feels that soon, ah soon, forlornly it will perish.

V tak mnohém srdci mrtvo jest V tak mnohém srdci mrtvo jest, Jak v tem né pustineˇ , V neˇ m na zˇalost a na bolest, Ba, místa jedineˇ .

Death dwells in so many a heart Death dwells in so many a heart, as in the gloomy wilderness; aye, there is a place in it only for sorrow and for pain.

Tu klam mi lásky horoucí V to srdce vstupuje, A srdce zˇalem prahnoucí, To mní, zˇe miluje.

Delusions of burning love enter into my heart, and the heart, pining from grief, believes that it loves.

A v tomto sladk´m domneˇ ní Se jesˇ teˇ jednou v ráj To srdce mrtvé promeˇ ní A zpívá, zpívá, starou báj!

And in that sweet assumption this dead heart transforms itself once more into a paradise and sings the old legend!

Kol domu se ted’ hpotácím Kol domu se ted’ hpotácím Kdes bydlívala drˇ íve, A z lásky räny krvácím, Lásky sladké, lzˇivé!

Now I falter past the house Now I falter past the house where you once lived, and I bleed from the wound of sweet, false love!

A smutny’m okem nazérám, Zdazˇ ke mneˇ vedesˇ kroku: A vstrˇ íc ti nárucˇ otvírám, Vsˇ ak slzu cítím v oku!

And I watch with a sorrowful eye to see whether you take a step towards me, and I open my arms to meet you, but I feel a tear in my eye!

Ó, kde jsi, drahá, kde jsi dnes, Cozˇ neprˇ ijdesˇ mi vstrˇ íce? Cozˇ nemám v srdci slast a ples, Teˇ uzrˇ ít nikdy více?

Oh, where are you beloved, where are you today, why do you not come to meet me? Why is my heart not filled with delight and exultation, never to behold you again?

Já vím, zˇe v sladké nadeˇji Já vím, zˇe v sladké nadeˇ ji Teˇ smím prˇ ec milovat; A zˇe chcesˇ tím horoucneˇ ji Mou lásku peˇ stovat.

I know that in sweet hope I know that in sweet hope I may still love you, and that you wish thereby more ardently to nurture my love.

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Texts and translations A prˇ ec, kdyzˇ nazrˇ ím ocˇ í tvy’ch V tu prˇ erozkosˇ nou noc, A zvím, jak nebe lásky z nich Na mne snásˇ í moc:

And still, when I look into your eyes on this glorious night, and discover how love’s heaven envelops me in its power:

Tu moje oko slzamí, T náhle se obstírá, Neb v sˇ teˇ stí nasˇ e za námi Zly’ osud pozírá!

Then suddenly my eyes overflow with tears, for behind us in our joy lurks an evil fate!

Nad krajem vévodí lehky’ spánek Nad krajem vévodí lehky’ spánek, Jasná se rozpjala májová noc; Nesmeˇ ly’ krade se do listí vánek, S nebes se schy’lila míru moc.

Gentle slumber reigns over the countryside Gentle slumber reigns over the countryside the clear May night has unfolded; a shy breeze steals into the leaves, the power of peace has descended from the heavens.

Zadrˇ ímlo kvítí, potokem sˇ umá Tisˇ eji nápeˇ vuo tajemny’ch sbor. Prˇ íroda v rozkosˇ i blazˇeneˇ dumá, Neklidny’ ch zˇivluo vsˇ ad utichl vzpor.

The flowers have dozed for a while, through the brook there murmurs a soft chorus of secret melodies. Nature muses blithely in delight, everywhere the restless elements’ agitation is stilled.

Hveˇ zdy se sesˇ ly co nadeˇ je sveˇ tla, Zemeˇ se meˇ ní na nebesky’ kruh. My’m srdcem, v neˇ mzˇ to kdys blazˇenost kvetla, My’m srdcem táhne jen bolesti ruch!

The stars have congregated as lights of hope, the earth transforms into a celestial orb; at my heart, in which rapture once blossomed, at my heart tugs only the torment’s tumult.

Zde v lese u potoka Zde v lese u potoka Já stojím sám a sám; A ve potoka vlny V mysˇ lenkách pozírám.

Here in the forest by a brook Here in the forest by a brook I stand alone, and gaze into the brook’s waves, lost in thought.

Tu vidím stary’ kámen, Nad nímzˇ se vlny dmou; Ten kámen stoupá a padá Bez klidu pod vlnou.

I see an old stone, over which the waves surge, the stone rises and falls ceaselessly under the waves.

A proud se onˇ opírá, Azˇ kámen zvrhne se. Kdy vlna zˇivota Mne ze sveˇ ta odnese?

And the current washes against it, until the stone topples over; when will the wave of life bear me away from this world?

Please turn page quietly 19

V té sladké moci ocˇ i tvy’ch V té sladké moci ocˇ i tvy’ch Jak rád, jak rád bych zahynul, Kdyby meˇ k zˇivotu jen smích Rtuo krásny’ch nekynul.

In the sweet power of your eyes In the sweet power of your eyes How gladly would I perish, if only the laughter of beautiful lips did not beckon me to life.

Vsˇ ak tu smrt sladkou zvolím hned S tou láskou, s tou láskou ve hrudí: Kdyzˇ meˇ jen ten tvuo j smavy’ ret K zˇivotu probudí.

But I will at once choose sweet death with this love in my breast: if only those smiling lips of yours will rouse me to life.

Ó dusˇe drahá, jedinká Ó dusˇ e drahá, jedinká Jezˇ v srdci zˇijesˇ dosud: Má oblétá teˇ mysˇ lenka, Acˇ nás deˇ lí zly’ osud.

Oh, dear matchless soul Oh, dear matchless soul, which has ever dwelt in my heart: my memory orbits around you, though evil fate divides us.

Ó, kézˇ jsem zpeˇ vnou labutí, Já zaleteˇ l bych k tobeˇ ; A v posledním bych vzdechnutí Ti vypeˇ l srdce v mdlobeˇ .

Oh, if only I were a singing swan, I would wing my way to you; and as I sighed my last, swooning I would sing out my heart to you.

Vecˇerní písneˇ, Op. 3

Evening Songs, Op. 3

Mneˇ zdálo se, zˇes umrˇ ela Mneˇ zdálo se, zˇes umrˇ ela; slysˇ el jsem zvonit hrany, a plácˇ e bylo, kvílení a nárˇ ku na vsˇ e strany.

I dreamt you were dead I dreamt you were dead; I heard bells tolling, and there was weeping, wailing and lamenting on all sides.

Tak divneˇ Ti tam ustlali! Na hrob Ti kámen dali, a abych na neˇ j napsal versˇ , mne vlídneˇ pozˇádali.

What a strange bed they prepared for you! On your grave they put a stone, and they kindly asked me to write a verse for it.

Ó, lidé, lidé z kamene, zde srdce mé si meˇ jte a co jsem jesˇ teˇ nezpíval, to do kamene vrejte.

Oh people, people of stone, here you have my heart and what I have not yet sung, carve that on the stone.

Mé lásce jste neveˇ rˇ ili a zhrdli my’mi slovy, kdyzˇbude kámen mluvit k vám, snad vám to lépe poví.

You did not believe my love, and you scorned my words, when it is the stone that speaks to you, perhaps it will be more eloquent.

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Texts and translations

Cikánské melodie, Op. 55

Gypsy Melodies, Op. 55

A les je tichy’ kolem kol A les je tichy’ kolem kol, jen srdce mír ten rusˇ í, a cˇ erny’ kourˇ , jenzˇ speˇ chá v dol, mé slze v lících, mé slze susˇ í.

And the wood is quiet all around And the wood is quiet all around, only my heart disturbs the peace, and the black smoke that swirls in the vale dries the tears I have shed on my cheeks.

Vsˇ ak nemusí jich ususˇ it, necht’ v jiné tvárˇ e bije. Kdo v smutku muo zˇe zazpívat, ten nezhynul, ten zˇije!

However, it need not dry them, let it assail other faces. Whoever can sing when sad has not perished but lives still.

Kdyzˇ mne stará matka Kdyzˇ mne stará matka zpívat ucˇ ívala, podivno, zˇe cˇ asto, cˇ asto slzívala.

Songs My Mother Taught Me When my old mother taught me to sing, it was strange that often, often she would cry.

A ted’ také plácˇ em sneˇ dé líce mucˇ ím, kdyzˇ cigánské deˇ ti hrát a zpívat ucˇ ím!

And now I also torment my tanned cheeks with tears, when I teach gypsy children to play and sing.

Struna naladeˇna Struna naladeˇ na, hochu, tocˇ se v kole, dnes, snad dnes prˇ evysoko, zejtra zase dole!

The strings are tuned The strings are tuned, my lad, come and dance in the circle, today maybe on top of the world, tomorrow right down below again.

Pozejtrˇ í u Nilu za posvátny’m stolem; struna jizˇ naladeˇ na, hochu, tocˇ se kolem!

The day after tomorrow by the Nile, a guest at a sacred banquet; the strings are already tuned, my lad, come and dance in the circle.

All English translations of Czech texts © Paul Wingfield, and reprinted by kind permission of Deutsche Grammophon (CD booklet 00289 477 6665) except for: Eben’s Malé Smutky, translated from the German by Mark Pappenheim; Schulhoff’s ‘Kozaka by tancovala’, Janácˇ ek’s ‘Hájny’ and ‘Tiha’, texts, courtesy of Central European Music Agency/Supraphon, and translations courtesy of the Wigmore Hall; Dvorˇ ák’s Milostne písneˇ, Op. 83, translations courtesy of the Wigmore Hall. Grateful thanks to Paula Best for all her help.

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About the performers

DG/Mathias Bothor

Magdalena Kozˇená mezzo-soprano Magdalena Kozˇ ená was born in Brno and studied at the Brno Conservatoire and the College of Performing Arts in Bratislava. She won several major prizes, culminating in the International Mozart Competition in 1995.

Malcolm Martineau piano Malcolm Martineau was born in Edinburgh, read Music at Cambridge and studied at the Royal College of Music.

Recognised as one of the leading accompanists of his generation, he has worked Magdalena Kozˇ ená is well with many of the world’s established as a major concert greatest singers, including and recital artist and has Sir Thomas Allen, Dame appeared at leading venues in London, Paris, Brussels, Janet Baker, Olaf Bär, Barbara Bonney, Ian Bostridge, Amsterdam, Vienna, Hamburg, Lisbon, Prague, Angela Gheorghiu, Susan Graham, Thomas Hampson, Copenhagen, Tokyo, San Francisco and New York’s Alice Della Jones, Simon Keenlyside, Angelika Kirchschlager, Tully Hall and Carnegie Hall. She has also sung at the Magdalena Kozˇ ená, Solveig Kringelborn, Jonathan Munich, Salzburg, Schwarzenberg Schubertiade, Lemalu, Dame Felicity Lott, Christopher Maltman, Karita Aldeburgh and Edinburgh International festivals. Her Mattila, Lisa Milne, Ann Murray, Anna Netrebko, Anne pianists include Daniel Barenboim, Yefim Bronfman, Sofie von Otter, Joan Rodgers, Amanda Roocroft, Malcolm Martineau, András Schiff and Mitsuko Uchida. Michael Schade, Frederica von Stade, Bryn Terfel and Sarah Walker. She has sung with the Berlin, Rotterdam and Vienna Philharmonic orchestras, the Orchestra of the Age of He has presented his own series at St John’s, Smith Enlightenment, the Philadelphia Orchestra, Chamber Square, the Wigmore Hall and at the Edinburgh Orchestra of Europe, Scottish Chamber Orchestra and International Festival. He has also appeared at the the Simón Bolívar Youth Orchestra of Venezuela. Barbican, Queen Elizabeth Hall, Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, La Scala, Milan, the Châtelet in Paris, the Operatic roles have included Gluck’s Orphée in Paris; Liceu in Barcelona, Berlin’ s Philharmonie and Nerone (L’incoronazione di Poppaea) in Vienna; Konzerthaus, Amsterdam’s Concertgebouw, the Vienna Mélisande in Paris and at the Deutsche Staatsoper, Konzerthaus and Musikverein, Alice Tully Hall and Cherubino in Aix-en-Provence and Munich, and Sesto Carnegie Hall in New York, Sydney Opera House and at (Giulio Cesare) in Amsterdam. At the Salzburg Festival the Aix-en-Provence, Vienna, Edinburgh International, her roles have included Zerlina, Idamante and Schubertiade, Munich and Salzburg festivals. Dorabella. For the Metropolitan Opera she has sung Varvara (Katya Kabanova) and Cherubino, Dorabella Recording projects have included Schubert, Schumann and Idamante, and for the Royal Opera House, Covent and English song recitals with Bryn Terfel; Schubert and Garden, she has taken the title-role in La Cenerentola. Strauss recitals with Simon Keenlyside; and recitals with Angela Gheorghiu, Barbara Bonney, Magdalena Her recordings include discs of arias by Mozart, Gluck Kozˇ ená, Della Jones, Susan Bullock and Solveig and Myslivecˇ ek, French arias, cantatas by the Bach Kringelborn. He has also recorded Fauré’s complete family, Songs My Mother Taught Me with Malcolm songs with Sarah Walker and Tom Krause, and the Martineau, Gluck’s Paride ed Elena, a Mozart album complete folk songs of Britten and Beethoven. with Sir Simon Rattle; and a Handel disc with Andrea Marcon. She was Gramophone‘s Artist of the Year in Malcolm Martineau was given an honorary doctorate by 2004. In 2003 she was awarded the title of Chevalier de the Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama in 2004. l’Ordre des Arts et des Lettres by the French Government. 22