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Monday 19 April 2010 7.30pm Barbican Hall Oswald von Wolkenstein Collection of Lute Songs Andreas Scholl countertenor Shield of Harmony Kathleen Dineen soprano/harp Crawford Young lute Margit Übellacker dulcimelos Marc Lewon viola d’arco/quinterne Bart Vanlaere narrator Jos Groenier director Uri Rapaport lighting designer Joost Gulien video creator Erik-Jan Berendsen lighting operator Eric Larrayadieu There is no interval in this performance, which lasts approximately 75 minutes. It is suggested that applause be reserved for the end of the concert. this evening’s programme Oswald von Wolkenstein Anonymous (c1376–1445) Mit ganzem willen wünsch ich dir (Lochamer Herz, müt, leib, sel Esfügtsich, I–III Liederbuch) Pierre des Molins (fl 1190–c1220) Amis tous dous Oswald von Wolkenstein Grasselick lif Kom, liebster man Oswald von Wolkenstein Durch Barbarei, Arabia Nu rue mit sorgen Es fügt sich, VII Wes mich mein bül Heinrichvon Laufenberg (c1390–1460) Bis grüsst, maget reine Anonymous Parlamento (London, British Library, Add. 29978) Oswald von Wolkenstein Esfügtsich, IV Ach, senliches leiden Der mai mit lieber zal Der oben swebt 2 THANKS TO: Library of Utrecht University Marco van Egmond Joost van Gemert Mirjam Pater Clara Strijbosch Tonight’s concert is part of a co-production between the Concertgebouw de Doelen, Rotterdam, the Cologne Philharmonie, the Barbican Centre, London, and the Philharmonic Hall in Liverpool. Translation of narrated text: Adrian Brine programme note Oswald von Wolkenstein The last great medieval romantic It’s April, the very month in which ‘longen folk to goon on pilgrimages, And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes To ferne halwes, couthe in sondry londes’. The season, in other words, for rising sap and itchy feet. So, what better time to celebrate a young man who, at the tender age of 10, and with nothing in his pocket but three cents and a piece of bread, set off to wander in the wide world. ‘To Prussia, Lithuania, Tartary, Turkey over the sea, to France, Lombardy, Spain’ and beyond, to be precise, ‘ searching for love’, and eventually working in the service of King Rupert, Duke Friedrich IV of Austria, and King Sigismund of Hungary. Oswald von Wolkenstein, one-eyed, and looking for all the world like a latter-day Wotan, has been described by one commentator as ‘an articulate, earthy, pious, lusty, sometimes violent knight-entertainer’. For, everywhere he went, Oswald kept a keen ear open to the local musicmaking, thieving melodies like a magpie, and following the conventions of late-Gothic courtly love. He moaned, groaned and celebrated his lot as one of the last knightly poet-musicians of South Germany. The second song we’ll hear this evening, ‘Es fügt sich’ (‘It happened’), tells of Oswald’s travels, and is unashamedly autobiographical. It’s so long – all of 12 minutes – that Andreas Scholl and his musicians plan to use it as a sort of rondo-refrain – a thread that winds its way through the evening. It’ll function as a type of leitmotif, tipped off by the plucking of a harp, and with its three stanzas cumulatively telling the tale of Oswald’s wanderings. Oswald was born around 1376, at a time of widespread upheaval, and less than 30 years after the devastations of the Black Death. As Oswald came into the world, in the South Tyrolean alpine town of Kiens, Wycliffe’s translation of the Bible into English appeared, and Piers Plowman had just been written by William Langland. And, just as the 10-year-old boy set off on his travels as a diminutive squire of a knight-errant, Chaucer was completing his Canterbury Tales. In 1408, Oswald prepared for a pilgrimage of his own to the Holy Land, and grew the long beard that marked out the pilgrims. It is thought that his ditty ‘Der oben swebt’ (‘He is the one who hovers above’), hymning Divine omnipresence and omniscience, and ending with a chantlike prayer to the Virgin Mary, could date from this period. Before this outburst of sacred ardour, Oswald had written plenty of rather more profane poems for his beloved Anna Hausmann, a married woman whose heart he continued to hymn even after his marriage in 1417 to Margarete von Schwangau – by whom he had no fewer than seven children. The sweet dawn dialogue song, ‘Nu rue mit sorgen’ (‘Now 3 programme note rest from your cares’), one of Oswald’s most beautiful poems, is a Romeo and Juliet vignette in which the sad syllables of the woman seem to be trying to slow the pace of her lover’s impending departure. Two years before Oswald’s marriage, when Henry V was galloping once more unto the breach at Agincourt, our poet found himself in the entourage of Friedrich IV, Duke of Austria, at the Council of Konstanz. These councils were long, drawn-out affairs: some delegates would arrive in March, others turn up in mid-May, so volatile were travelling conditions and the political climate of the time. Andreas Scholl likes to imagine that ‘at night, there would be drinking, and musicians and poets like Oswald would present their new compositions, commenting on politics and life. His friends must have loved to hear of his exploits and escapades, his fantasies and his fights.’ While kings and princes, diplomats and dukes lingered long, these were creative times for Oswald von Wolkenstein. Soon after Konstanz, Oswald found himself sent as a diplomat to the service of Sigismund, King of Hungary. He didn’t much like it, on the evidence of his complaints and curses in the stomping ‘Wes mich mein bül’ (‘Whatever gifts’). 4 Absence from his lady, noisy children and even bed-bugs were added to the family disputes, peasant uprisings and dislocation of principalities and powers that were the constant companions of Oswald’s life. No wonder that he fled, in his few private moments, to poetic refuge, and to the comforts and containment of chivalric literary convention. For Oswald used music primarily to communicate his poetry. He would borrow from sources such as the graceful melodies and suave harmonies of the ballate and madrigals of the highly fashionable Francesco Landini (c1325–97), from French trouvère songs, and from the more raw and robust melodies of his German predecessors. As Scholl says, ‘He was no mere troubadour: he performed for his equals, for nobles; and wherever he went, he hooked up with courtly musicians. He brought back their melodies, and often sold them as his own – after all, there was no great risk of being exposed in the Tyrol, and ordinary people really didn’t travel very far in those days.’ No more than an amateur polyphonist, Oswald delighted in borrowing one melody with which to offset another. His ‘contrafacting’ can be heard in songs such as ‘Ach, senliches leiden’ (‘Alas, heartfelt pain’) and ‘Kom, liebster man!’ programme note (‘Come, dearest man’). Scholl, trained as an electro-acoustic musician in his student days, once amused himself by making a multi-track setting of one of Oswald’s ditties: as pop songs, some of them work rather well. Like today’s itinerant crooners, Oswald had a high opinion of his own worth – so much so that, in the peaceful, if short-lived, lull brought about by the Alliance of Bingen in 1424, he commissioned the Kloster Neustift, near Brixen (with whose Augustinian monks he had stayed in 1410), to create a sumptuous parchment of his songs. The monastery was at that time a popular resting-place for pilgrims, and a significant force in the cultural and intellectual life of Europe. Even today, it’s a lively centre for theological courses and seminars; its Gothic cloister, basilica and exquisite white and gold library may be visited, and the monks’ renowned Sylvanerschnaps and herb-tea tasted and purchased. After King Sigismund (to whom Oswald had been unfailingly loyal) was crowned Holy Roman Emperor in 1433, Oswald’s life quietened down somewhat. In August 1445, when he was visiting the spa town of Meran (now Merano, surrounded by mountains, and cherished for its mild climate by none other than Franz Kafka and Ezra Pound), Oswald died of heatstroke. He was buried near the font at his beloved Kloster Neustift: his grave was rediscovered as recently as 1973. Oswald von Wolkenstein, poised in time between the art of the knightly Minnesangers and the petit-bourgeois craft of the Meistersingers, remained true to the vanishing traditions of medieval romanticism in his life and in his art. The American musicologist Paul Henry Lang has saluted him as ‘the last great representative of the medieval lyric art of his class’. And Andreas Scholl and his musicians are keen to kindle our imaginations to inhabit his world. ‘I want this concert to be a time-machine’, says Scholl, ‘to enable us to have a glimpse of a brutally honest figure – an artist not ashamed to retain many embarrassing facts about himself – unlike our own celebrities! He wanted – and we want – to convey, above all, his honesty. This man speaks to me through his music. And I want to use modern technology as a means of expression to illuminate his character still further. It might be controversial – but then he was too! And I’d like the audience to examine themselves, too, and think about ways like this in which we can perhaps ensure that our own conventional rituals of concert-giving and music-making will not alienate future generations …’ Programme note © Hilary Finch 5 text Oswald von Wolkenstein Herz, müt, leib, sel Herz, müt, leib, sel und was ich han, Das freut ain lieplich angesicht, Dem sol ich wesen undertan, Zu dienen stetiklich gericht. Heart, mind, body, soul Heart, mind, body, soul and whatever I have, are all infused with joy by a pretty face, to whom I will be dedicated, constantly ready to do service. Frau, du solt unvergessen sein In meinem herzen ewikleich, Und wer das ouch der wille dein, So ward nie kaiser mein geleich. Lady, you will be in my heart forever, indelibly, and if you were to reciprocate the sentiment, an emperor was never as happy as I. Ich wolt, du wesst an als gever Mein freuntschaft halb, die ich dir trag; Zwar du erfürst vil lieber mer Von dir zu mir an alle frag. I wished you would be aware, without any prejudice, of the affection that I feel for you, at least half of it. Then you would learn many pleasant things about you and me, without any doubt. Wie serr ich bin, so nahet mir Inbrünstiklich dein stolzer leib, Senlich darnach stet mein begier; Du freust mich zwar für alle weib. How far away I might be, your wonderful body comes to me, intoxicating me. Full of longing I desire your body, you make me happier than all other women. Es fügt sich I Es fügt sich, do ich was von zehen jaren alt, Ich wolt besehen, wie die werlt wer gestalt. Mit ellend, armuet mangen winkel, haiss und kalt, Hab ich gebaut bei cristen, Kriechen, haiden. Drei pfenning in dem peutel und ain stücklin brot, Das was von haim mein zerung, do ich loff in not. It happened Von fremden freunden so hab ich manchen tropfen rot Gelassen seider, das ich wand verschaiden. Ich loff ze füss mit swerer büss, bis das mir starb Mein vatter, zwar wol vierzen jar nie ross erwarb, Wann aines roupt, stal ich halbs zu mal mit valber varb, Und des geleich schied ich da von mit laide. Zwar renner, koch so was ich doch und marstaller, Auch an dem rüder zoch ich zu mir, das was swer, 6 It happened, when I was 10 years old, that I wanted to see what the world was. I have been in warm and cold places, in misery and poverty, with Christians, Greek-Orthodox and heathens. Then, I had three cents in my pocket and a piece of bread from home to keep me alive, when I headed out into the big world. Because of certain ‘friends’ I have shed so many drops of blood that I thought I must die. I travelled by foot, heavily burdened, until the day my father died. I was 14 years old and still had no horse, except for one I stole, and a stolen mule, light-coloured, but both were unfortunately stolen from me. I was messenger runner, cook and groom, also an oarsman – that was hard work – text In Kandia und anderswa, ouch wider har, Vil mancher kittel was mein bestes klaide. near Crete and elsewhere, and later back again. many different types of coats were my ‘finery’. II Gen Preussen, Littuan, Tartarei, Türkei, über mer, Gen Frankreich, Lampart, Ispanien, mit zwaien künges her Traib mich die minn auf meines aigen geldes wer: Ruprecht, Sigmund, baid mit des adlers streiffen. Franzoisch, mörisch, katlonisch und kastilian, Teutsch, latein, windisch, lampertisch, reuschisch und roman, Die zehen sprach hab ich gebraucht, wenn mir zerran; Auch kund ich fidlen, trummen, paucken, pfeiffen. Ich hab umbfarn insel und arn, gar manig land, Auff scheffen gros, der ich genos von sturmes band, Des hoch und nider meres gelider vast berant; Die swarze see lert mich ain vas begreiffen, Do mir zerbrach mit ungemach mein wargatin, Ain koufman was ich, doch genas ich und kam hin, Ich und ain Reuss; in dem gestreuss houbgüt, gewin, Das sücht den grund und swam ich zu dem reiffen. To Prussia, Lithuania, Tartary, Turkey over the sea, to France, Lombardy, Spain, searching for love, at my own expense, marching with the forces of two kings, Ruprecht and Sigismund, under the herald of the eagle. French, Moorish, Catalan, Castilian, German, Latin, Slovenian, Italian, Russian, Romansch, these 10 languages I used whenever I had to. Plus, I could play fiddle, trumpet, drum and pipe. I sailed past islands and peninsulas and many countries on big ships, which guarded me from the dangers of storms. I sailed the high and low seas. The Black Sea taught me a few things when my ship sank in my bad fortune. I was a merchant then, and survived, me and a Russian. I swam to shore in the raging sea while our goods and profits sank to the bottom. III Ain künigin von Arragon, was schön und zart, Da für ich kniet, zu willen raicht ich ir den bart, Mit hendlin weiss bant si darein ain ringlin zart Lieplich und sprach: ‘non maiplus dis ligaides’. Von iren handen ward ich in die oren mein Gestochen durch mit ainem messin nädelein, Nach ir gewonheit sloss si mir zwen ring dorein, Die trüg ich lang, und nennt man si raicades. Ich sücht ze stund künig Sigmund, wo ich in vand, Den mund er spreutzt und macht ain kreutz, do er mich kant, Der rüfft mir schier: ‘du zaigest mir hie disen tant’, Freuntlich mich fragt: ‘tün dir die ring nicht laides?’ Weib und ouch man mich schauten an mit lachen so; Neun personier küngklicher zier, die waren do Ze Pärpian, ir babst von Lun, genant Petro, Der Römisch künig der zehent und die von Praides. Before the Queen of Aragon – so beautiful and tender – I knelt down and raised my face to her, with white hands she hung a precious ring on my beard saying, Never remove this! She herself pierced my ears with a small brass needle, and affixed two earrings, according to Aragonese custom called raicades, which I wore for a long time. Following this I met King Sigismund, whom I found staring with open mouth, crossing himself when he recognised me, and immediately called, What have you got? then asked in a friendly way, Doesn’t it hurt to wear those rings? Both women and men looked at me, laughing, including nine royal persons from Perpignan, their Pope Pedro de Luna, the Roman king and Lady of Prades. Please turn page quietly 7 text Grasselick lif I Grasselick lif, war hef ick dick verloren All dise lange, sütten summertit? Dat gi mi komt tu vorn, So left min hert in grot jo lit. You horrible angel ‘You horrible angel, where did you hide so often this whole long beautiful summer?’ ‘That I have found you causes great joy in my heart.’ II Geilicken fro, all telich sunder truren Tüt jo frowen lan einig minen lif! Dat gschol ick nit verluren, Mit willen gschin dein einig wif. ‘Playfully, happily, free of all sadness, let me be the only one to give you joy!’ ‘I don’t say otherwise, I only want to be your woman.’ III Freuntlicker gschat, dat slot müt gschin verbunden Und so keiserlick wol verrigelt sir. Erst hef ick freude funden, Und welt min hert kain andern mier. ‘Dear treasure, let the lock be closed and bolted as tight as ever.’ ‘Now I know the joy, my heart never wants another.’ Kom, liebster man! I ‘Kom, liebster man! Meins leibs ich dir wol gan An abelan. Kom, traut gesell, Glücklich fleuch ungevell! Kom, höchster schatz, zu tratz Der falschen zungen latz! Kom schier, meins herzen laid vertreib, Und tröst mich vil armes weib! Dein mänlich leib reicht sinn und müt An mir für aller welde güt.’ II Dein wort, gepär Ringt all mein swer, Frau, lieber mer, Seid mein begerd Ain stolz weib, junck, hoch und werd, Die mir das herz an smerz Verjüngt mit liebem scherz 8 Come, dearest man Come, dearest man, I gladly give myself to you forever, come dearest companion, leave misfortune behind, come dearest treasure, ignore the mouths of gossips, come quickly, drive out the sadness from my heart and console poor me! Your manliness revives my spirit and thoughts, more than anything else in the world. Your words and gestures alleviate all my cares, woman, and even better, a proud lady, young, noble and honorable, wants me, who rejuvenates my heart, eliminating pain, text Gar wunniklichen manigvalt. Ir minniklich schön gestalt Macht mich nicht alt, und bin ergetzt, Von klaren öglin mich benetzt. with love talk in wonderful fashion. Her elegant, lovely form makes me young, and refreshes me with clear sweet eyes. III ‘Schaiden mich nöt, Dein schaiden mich ertöt, Mein öglin röt, Und bin verzuckt, Der sinnen blösslich entruckt. Mein weiplich zucht, die frucht Fleusst senlich ir genucht. Ob du mir kurzlich nicht enschreibst Und selb lang von mir beleibst, Wie du das treibst, So fürcht ich ser, Oder ich gesech dich nimmer mer.’ Parting is painful, your leaving kills me, making my eyes red, I am upset, stripped of my senses. My feminine way, the fruit of it all, pales because of this longing. If you do not write to me soon, and stay away, as you are doing, then I greatly fear that I will never see you again. Heinrich von Laufenberg Bis grüsst, maget reine Bis grüsst, maget reine, Küngin bist alleine, Aller welt gemeine, Erbermd hat sie nicht kleine, Die ich nu meine; Leben kan sie bringen, Süsskeit us ir dringen, Der ich hie wil singen, Und hoffnung unsern dingen, Bis grüsst, hilf uns gelingen. Hail, pure Virgin Hail pure Virgin, you alone are the Queen of the whole world, no little compassion has she, upon her I concentrate my thoughts, she can give life, sweetness oozes from her which I want to sing of here, as well as hope for our affairs welcome, help us to thrive. Zu dir schrient wir mit begir, Ellend nu hilf uns schir, Sun Even uns nicht verlir. Zu dir süfzent wir, nicht enbir, Weinend und ouch greinend; In disz trehental schouw uberal, Und an yal wend gebresten alle mal. We fervently raise our voice to you, in supplication, be with us in times of need, do not forsake us children of Eve. We sigh to you, – be with us – weeping and also whimpering in this Valley of Tears, gaze all around and – without boundaries – banish sorrow fully. Please turn page quietly 9 text Eya! darumb unser fursprechin kumb, Versprich uns umb und umb; Die din diener wellent sin, Erbermd teil mit in, Zartes schoenes megedin; Und din augen vin Dahin zu uns har Ker und nim war diser kristenlichen schar. Just so! thus come, our protectress, defend us everywhere, your servants we would like to be, distribute your mercy to these, tender beautiful maiden and turn your bright gaze upon us, and accept this Christian flock. Und Jesum alzit benedictum, Frucht gnucht dins libes zucht, Gib ouch ze zuflucht uns allen armen. Nach disem ellend ruch dich erbarmen, Zeig uns bei dir barmen. And give Jesus, perpetual blessing, fruit of abundance, child of your flesh, to us weaklings as refuge. After this misery have pity, show us your compassion. O megdliche kron gib uns dich ze lon O Salomons tron, wol gebuwen schon, O selden wunn, dich bkleit der sunn, O süsser brunn Maria! O crown of virginity, give us yourself as reward, O throne of Solomon, so beautifully made, O, O bliss of happiness, that surrounds you the sun, O sweet fountain of Mary. Oswald von Wolkenstein Es fügt sich IV Mein tummes leben wolt ich verkeren, das ist war, Und ward ein halber beghart wol zwai ganze jar; Mit andacht was der anfangk sicherlichen zwar, Hett mir die minn das ende nicht erstöret. Die weil ich rait und süchet ritterliche spil Und dient zu willen ainer frauen, des ich hil, Die wolt mein nie genaden ainer nussen vil, Bis das ain kutten meinen leib bedoret. Vil manig ding mir do gar ring zu handen ging, Do mich die kappen mit dem lappen umbefing. Zwar vor und leit mir nie kain meit so wol verhing, Die mein wort freuntlich gen ir gehöret. Mit kurzer schnür die andacht für zum gibel aus, Do ich die kutt von mir do schutt in nebel rauss, Seid hat mein leib mit leid vortreib vil mangen strauss Gelitten, und ist halb mein freud erfröret. 10 It happened I wanted to turn over a new leaf, that’s true, and I was half a beggar for two full years; at the beginning pious to be sure, at the end foiled in my piety by love. While I rode and sought knightly sport, and served a lady, without further comment, she granted me not a nut’s worth of favour! until a monk’s habit bedeckt my body. Many things then came easily, when I wore the monk’s hood, in truth, never before or after were girls so friendly, as they listened to my chatter. My devotions quickly went up the chimney, when I took off the cowl amid the smoke, since then there have been many love problems, and all my joy is half frozen. text Ach, senliches leiden I Ach senliches leiden, Meiden, neiden, schaiden, das tüt we, Besser wer versunken in dem see. Zart minnikliches weib, Dein leib mich schreibt und treibt gen Josophat. Herz, müt, sin, gedanck, ist worden mat. Es schaidt der tod, Ob mir dein gnad nicht helfen wil Auss grosser not; Mein angst ich dir verhil. Dein mündlin rot Hat mir so schier mein gier erwecket vil, Des wart ich genaden an dem zil. II Mein herz in iamer vicht, Erbricht, bericht und slicht den kummer jo! Frau, schidlicher freuntschafft wart ich so, Recht als der delephin, Wenn in der sin fürt hin zu wages grund Vor dem sturm, und darnach wirt enzunt Von sunnen glast, Die im erkückt all sein gemüt. Herzlieb, halt vast Durch all dein weiplich güt! Lass deinen gast Nicht sterben, serben, werben in unfrüt! In ellenden pein ich tob und wüt. III Mein houbt, das ist beklait Mit waffen, slauffen, straffen die natur, Das mich twingt ain stund für tausent ur. Wenn ich mein laid betracht Die nacht, so wacht mein macht mit klainer krafft, Und ich freuden ganz wird sigehaft. Mich niemand tröst Und ist mein leiden sicher gross, Mein herz, das wirt geröscht Alas, heartfelt pain Alas, heartfelt pain, shunning, fighting, separation, all that hurts, it would be better to drown in the deep! Graceful, delightful lady, you banish me, chasing me to Josaphat. My heart, mind, spirit and reason have lost their strength. Death will mean the end of it all if your mercy will not help me out of my deep misery. I hide my anguish from you. Your red lips have enflamed my desire, so that I insist, finally, to be granted an audience. My heart is struggling, filled with misery, and is breaking. Please soothe and lessen my cares. Lady, I am waiting for your kindness, like the dolphin, when its instinct guides it down to the bottom of the sea during a storm, until it is attracted by the brilliance of the sun above which refreshes its heart completely. Dearest, be steadfast, in the name of all your female virtue! Do not let your distant one die, suffer and love in vain. I am out of my mind, crazy because of the pain of being apart. My head is enclosed with laments, dullness and self-conflict, one hour thus feels like a thousand. When I think about my dilemma at night, I lie awake, weak, and destroy any joy I might have. No one consoles me, which makes my suffering truly bitter. My heart is burned Please turn page quietly 11 text Mit manchem seufften stoss. Ach we, wann wirt erlöst mein trauren? tauren, lauren negt und pösst, Da mit ich der sinn wird gar emblösst. by many deep sighs. Oh, when will sadness depart from me? Waiting and hoping plague and torture me, so that I am losing my mind. Der mai mit lieber zal Der mai mit lieber zal die erd bedecket überal, Pühel, eben, berg und tal, Auss süssen voglin schal erklingen, Singen hohen hal galander, lerchen, droschel, die nachtigal. Der gauch fleucht hinden hin Nach zu grossem ungemach klainen vogelin gogelreich. Höret, wie er sprach, cu cu, cu cu, cu cu, Den zins gib mir, den wil ich han von dir, Der hunger macht lunger mir den magen schir! Ach ellend! nu wellent sol ich? So sprach das klaine vich. Küngel, zeisel, mais, lerch, nu komen wir singen: Oci und tu ich tu ich tu ich tu ich, Oci oci oci oci oci oci, Fi fideli fideli fideli fi, Ci cieriri ci ci cieriri, Ci ri ciwigk cidiwigk fici fici. So sang der gauch neur: kawa wa cu cu. The month of May The month of May envelops the entire land, the hills, the plain, mountains and valleys, delightful birds in a concert make merry and sing with loud voices, the tufted lark, the field lark, the thrush and the nightingale. The cuckoo follows them from behind, he is a bad pest to these cheerful little birds. Listen to what he is saying, cu cu, cu cu, cu cu, give me a toll, I demand it from you, hunger makes my stomach greedy! Oh misery, where should I turn now? said the little creature. Wren, siskin, titmouse, lark, come now, let us sing: oci and do I, do I, do I, do I, oci, oci, oci, oci, oci, oci, fi fideli, fideli, fideli fi, ci, cieriri, ci, ci, cieriri, ci ri, civigk, cidivigk, fici, fici! But the cuckoo only sang, kawa wa, cu cu. Raco, so sprach der rab, zwar ich sing ouch wol Vol müss ich sein, das singen mein Scheub ein! herein! vol sein! Liri liri liri liri liri liri lon, So sang die lerch, so sang die lerch, so sang die lerch. Raco, sings the raven, truly, my voice is also beautiful but my stomach must be filled, my song goes: Shove it in, inside, fill it up, liri liri liri liri liri liri lon, is the song of the lark, is the song of the lark,is the song of the lark. The thrush announces, My song is so loud! My song is so loud! My song is so loud that it echoes in the forest! Hey birds, you twitter, jubilate, croak and crow, here and there, just like our priest. Zidiwick zidiwick zidiwick, zificigo zificigo zificigo, the nightingale could win the Grail with her singing. Ich sing hel ain droschelin, ich sing hel ain droschelin, Ich sing hel ain droschelin, das in dem wald erklinget. Ir lierent, zierent gracket und wacket hin und her Recht als unser pfarrer, zidiwick zidiwick zidiwick, Zificigo zificigo zificigo, nachtigall, Dieselb mit irem gesangk behüb den gral. 12 text Upchahi, so sprach das ful, lat uns auch dar zu. Frue vert die kue der esel lue: her sak auff meinem nack. Rigo rigo rigo rigo rigo rigo kum. So rufft die mul, so rufft die mul, so rufft die mul. Ker ab, so sprach die mulnerin heb auff schrey die pawrin, Nu trag hin mein eselein da da prufta Ja nü leir! Nicht veir bis dir d’geir dye hawt abziehen wirt bey dem veyer! Wol auff wol auff wol auff wol auff saylon pint auff schintt dich wolpurg! Rugel dich gut waydman mit iagen paissn rogken in den tan! Der oben swebt I Der oben swebt und niden hebt, Der vor und hinden, neben strebt Und ewig lebt, ie was an anefange, Der alt, der jung, und der von sprung Trilitzsch gefasst in ainlitz zung An misshellung mit unbegriffner strange, Der strenklich starb und was nicht tod, Der keuschlich ward emphangen und an alle not Geboren rot, weiss durch ain junckfrau schöne, Der manig wunder hat gestifft, Die hell erbrach, den tiefel dorin ser vergifft, Getült, geschifft all wurz durch stammes tröne. Upchachi, said the colt, I want to join in! The cow is up early, the donkey cried: Come here, load, onto my back! Rigo rigo rigo rigo rigo rigo, come! like this the mill sounded, like this the mill sounded, like this the mill sounded. Beat it! shouted the miller’s wife. Lift! called the farmer’s wife, Carry it over there, my little donkey! There, there, just snort your heehaw! Don’t be lazy, make some music, until the vulture by the lake strips your skin! Get up, get up, get up, stretch string, rope-maker, Curse you, Walburg! Hurry up, dear hunter, with hunting, drinking, bird-catching in the woods! He is the one who hovers above He is the one who hovers above and holds steady below, who busily works in front, behind and at the side, who lives forever, since eternity without beginning. He – both old and young – is the one who was from the origin enfolded in one single word three times, without a wrong note and in incomprehensible combination, He is the one who died tortuously, but was not dead. He was born chastely and without causing pain, being both white and red, by a beautiful virgin. He is the one who created so many miracles, who tore open the gates of Hell and poisoned the devil. He is the one who makes the twigs and branches grow out of the roots by means of the sap within. Please turn page quietly 13 text II Dem offen sein all herzen schrein, Grob, tadelhäfftig, swach, güt, vein, Das er dorin sicht allerlai gedenke, Dem tün und lan ist undertan, Die himel steren, sunn, der man, Der erden plan, mensch, tier, all wasser rencke, Auss dem all kunst geflossen ist, Von dem, der aller creatur durch spähen list Zu jeder frist ir zierhait würckt, schon eusset, Dem alle tier, zam und ouch wild, Hie danckber sein, das er den samen hat gebildt unversert Der narung milt, gar waideleich vergreusset. He is the one for whom all heart-shrines are open, whether they are rough, filled with shortcomings, poor, noble or beautiful, so that He can discover in them many thoughts. He is the one to whom all deeds and actions are subject, the heavenly stars, the sun, the moon, the earthly sphere, people, animals and all bodies of water. He is the one from whom all knowledge has emanated. He is the one who prudently grants all creatures beautiful grace and makes it visible pleasantly. He is the one to whom all animals, domestic and also wild, are thankful for having created the seed for the rich nourishment so lavishly dispersed. III Der himel, erd gar unversert Hat undersetzt an grundes herd, Das wasser kert dorin durch fremde rünste – Der wunder zal vil tusent mal Wer mer ze singen überal Mit reichem schal, so hindern mich die künste – Der mir die sel klar geben hat, Leib, er und güt, vernufft und kristenliche wat: Der geb mir rat, das ich im also dancke, Da mit ich all mein veind verpaw Baid hie und dort, das mich ir kainer nicht verhau. O keuschlich frau, dein hilf mir dorzu schrancke! He is the one who has founded heaven and earth flawlessly and without needing foundation, and who makes the water flow through strange channels. I could sing about these miraculous things a thousand times and everywhere with a loud voice, but my art is not good enough. He is the one who granted me a pure soul, a body, honour, property, reason, and a Christian faith. May He give me advice, allowing me to thank Him properly and to fend off all my enemies, both here and there, so that no one can hurt me. Oh, chaste Lady, lend me your assistance in this effort. Durch Barbarei, Arabia I Durch Barbarei, Arabia, Durch Hermani in Persia, Durch Tartari in Suria, Durch Romani in Türggia, Ibernia, Der sprüng han ich vergessen. Durch Reussen, Preussen, Eiffenlant, Gen Litto, Liffen, übern strant, Gen Tennmarckh, Sweden, in Prabant, Durch Flandern, Franckreich, Engelant Travelling through Morocco, Arabia, through Armenia to Persia, through the Tartar lands to Syria, via Byzantium to Turkey, then Georgia, I no longer know how to travel. Through Russia, Prussia, Estonia, Lithuania, Livonia, and along the coast towards Denmark, Sweden, on to Brabant, through Flanders, France, England 14 text Und Schottenland Hab ich lang nicht gemessen, Durch Arragon, Kastilie, Granaten und Afferen, Aufs Portugal, Ispanie Bis gen dem vinstern steren, Von Profenz gen Marsilie. In Races vor Saleren, Daselbs belaib ich an der e, Mein ellend da zu meren Vast ungeren, Auff ainem runden kofel smal, Mit dickem wald umbfangen, Vil hoher berg und tieffe tal, Stain, stauden, stöck, snee stangen, Der sich ich teglich ane zal. Noch aines tüt mich pangen, Das mir der klainen kindlin schal Mein oren dick bedrangen, Hand durchgangen. and Scotland, I have not journeyed for years; through Aragon, Castile, Granada and Navarra, from Portugal and Galicia to Cape Finisterre, from Provence to Marseille, in Ratzes near Castle Schlern. I am caught in marriage, which makes me miserable very much against my will, trapped on a round, small hill, enclosed by a dark forest. Every day I see countless tall mountains and deep valleys, rocks, bushes, tree stumps and sticks in the snow. Something else depresses me, that is, the noise of small children, it mightily afflicts my ears and pierces them. II Wie vil mir eren ie beschach Von fürsten, künigin gefach, und was ich freuden ie gesach, Das büss ich als under ainem dach. Mein ungemach, Der hatt ain langes ende. Vil gütter witz, der gieng mir not, Seid ich müss sorgen umb das brot, Darzu so wirt mir vil gedrot, Und tröst mich niena mündli rot. Den ich ee bott, Die lassen mich ellende. Wellent ich gugk, so hindert mich Köstlicher ziere sinder, Der ich e pflag, da für ich sich Neur kelber, gaiss, böck, rinder, Und knospot leut, swarz, hässeleich, Vast rüssig gen dem winder; Die geben müt als sackwein vich. Vor angst slach ich mein kinder What ever honours I have received from princes and queens, what joys I have experienced, I atone for all of it now, staying in one place. My miserable situation will not be ending soon. I would urgently need many skills, since I have a family to support. People threaten me, and no red lips grant me consolation. Those to whom I was once dedicated now abandon me miserably. Wherever I look, the ashes of prized things block my view. Instead of her whose company I once enjoyed, I see calves, goats, rams, cows and idiots, sunburned and ugly, blackened by soot during winter. I enjoy them like bad wine and roaches. Not knowing where to turn, Please turn page quietly 15 text Offt hin hinder. So kompt ir mütter zü gebraust, Zwar die beginnt zu schelten; Gäb si mir aines mit der fawsst, Des müsst ich ser engelten. Si spricht: ‘wie hastu nu erzausst Die kind zu ainem zelten!’ Ab irem zoren mir da graust, Doch mangeln ich fein selten Scharpf mit spelten. I beat my children, chasing them into a corner. Their mother rushes at me screaming, and if she were to hit me with her fist, I would feel it, believe me! She yells: Now you have torn up the children like pieces of bread! I am horrified at her anger, yet how often I see it, dagger-sharp! III Mein kurzweil, die ist mangerlai, Neur esel gesang und pfawen geschrai, Des wunscht ich nicht mer umb ain ai. Vast rawscht der bach neur hurlahai Mein houbt enzwai, Das es beginnt zu krancken. Also trag ich mein aigen swer; Teglicher sorg, vil böser mer Wirt Hauenstain gar seldn ler. Möcht ichs gewenden an gever, Oder wer das wer, Dem wolt ich immer dancken. Mein lanndesfürst, der ist mir gram Von böser leutte neide, Mein dienst, die sein im widerzam, Das ist mir schad und laide, Wie wol mir susst kain fürstlich stamm, Bei meinem güten aide, Nie hat geswecht leib, er, güt nam In seiner fürsten waide, Köstlich raide. Mein freund, die hassen mich überain An schuld, des müss ich greisen. Das klag ich aller werlt gemain, Den frummen und den weisen, Darzü vil hohen fürsten rain, Die sich ir er land preisen, Das si mich armen Wolckenstein Die wolf nicht lan erzaisen, Gar verwaisen. For amusement I find various things, such as singing of asses and the screaming of peacocks, all that is not pleasing to me. The mountain creek rushes down with its constant ‘hurlahai’, deafening me with its noise, giving me headaches. Thus I carry my own burden. Daily worries and most unpleasant news plague Castle Hauenstein. If I could change this somehow, or if someone else could do it for me, I would be grateful forever. The Duke is angry with me, because of evil-minded envious people. He does not need my service, which means a serious loss for me and makes me angry, although no other nobleman at a princely, elegant and pleasing court – I swear upon my honour – has ever tried to hurt me, my honour, property, or good name. All those whom I had trusted are angry with me for no reason, awful to say. I beg the whole world, the honourable and wise people, the many high-ranking noble princes, who manage to increase their own reputation, not to let the wolves rip me, poor Wolkenstein, apart. I am as alone as an orphan. 16 text Nu rue mit sorgen I ‘Nu rue mit sorgen, mein verborgenlicher schacz! Sleius dein augen schricklich zu Gen des lichten tages hacz, Im ze tracz! Herzen lieb, es ist noch fru. All dein trauren, lauren las, Freuden hoff und halt die mass! Tustu das, So bistu wol mein.’ ‘Ach liebe diren, das sol sei sein.’ Now rest from your cares ‘Now rest from your cares, my secret treasure! Close your eyes after all this worry, before the coming of the bright day, and despite its arrival. It is still early, heart-beloved. Let go sorrow and care, expect joy to come, but be prudent! Do thus and you will surely be mine.’ ‘Oh, dearest girl, so shall it be!’ II ‘Frau, thu mich straffen! ich verslaffen hab die stund. Lucifer verswunden ist. Ei du roselachter mund, Mach gesund, Ber dort, hie, wo mir enprisst! Dein haubt naig, saig auff mein herz, Ermlein schrenck sunder smerz, Treib den scherz, Der uns, frau, mach gail!’ ‘Zart lieber man, das sei mit hail.’ ‘Lady, chastise me! I have slept too long. The morning star has disappeared. Alas you rose-coloured lips, heal and help me, wherever I am lacking. Bend your head down upon my breast! Put your arms around me! Do something, lady, to make us happy!’ ‘Beloved dearest man, may we have only joy!’ III ‘Der glanz durch grebe von der plebe ist entrant; Ich hor voglin doene vil. Tag, wer hat nach dir gesant? Dein gewant Unser scham nicht teken wil. Zwar dein greis ich preis doch klain.’ ‘Guten morgen, liebstes ain. Nicht ser wain, Meiner kunft, der wort schir. Mit urlaub, frau, hail wunsch ich dir.’ ‘Grey light is already chased away by blue, I hear many voices of birds. Who asked you to come, day? Your gown will not hide our nakedness. Your pale light is not welcome.’ ‘Good morning, my most beloved darling, don’t be so sad, I’ll be back soon. I must go lady, I wish you good luck.’ Please turn page quietly 17 text Es fügt sich VII Ich han gelebt wol vierzig jar leicht minner zwai Mit toben, wüten, tichten, singen mangerlai; Es wer wol zeit, das ich meins aigen kindes geschrai elichen Hört in ainer wiegen gellen. So kan ich der vergessen nimmer ewikleich, Die mir hat geben mut auff disem ertereich; In aller werlt kund ich nicht finden iren gleich, Auch fürcht ich ser elicher weibe bellen. In urtail, rat vil weiser hat geschätzet mich, Dem ich gevallen han mit schallen liederlich. Ich, Wolkenstein, leb sicher klain vernünftliklich, Das ich der werlt also lang beginn zu hellen, Und wol bekenn, ich wais nicht, wenn ich sterben sol, Das mir nicht scheiner volgt wann meiner werke zol. Het ich dann got zu seim gebott gedienet wol, So forcht ich klain dort haisser flamme wellen. It happened Forty years minus two I have lived with celebrating, being wild, making poems and singing different songs. It should soon be the time to hear the noise of my own children in the crib. But I cannot forget the one who gave me happiness in this earthly realm, I could not find her equal in the whole world. Further, I am afraid of the barking of the wife. Many a wise man has valued my advice, liked my tuneful songs. I, Wolkenstein, have perhaps not lived so wisely in my time, and I know not when my life will end, when my just rewards will come in judgement, if I had served God according to His will, I would not fear Hell’s blazing furnace. Wes mich mein bül I Wes mich mein bül ie hat erfreut, Das han ich seider wol verdeut Mit mangem ungefegten rost, Den ich durch iren willen kost; Und ist das laider ane zal. Gelückes hab ich klainen val, Seid das si mich mit grossem qual Hieng mit den füssen lieplich an ain stange, An andern grossen überlast, Den mich ir lieb hat angetast; Sol ich ir dorumb dancken vast, Des müss si von mir warten eben lange. Whatever gifts Von ir ich dol Zu Ungern wol Der kinder vol, Genant mit liben füssen. Die tretten mich Und jetten mich Thanks to her I suffer in Hungary, overrun by ‘children’ who they call ‘Septipedes’ (bed-bugs) They crawl on me, and torture me, 18 Whatever gifts my beloved gave me, turned out to be very hard to digest, thanks to just so much dirty rusty metal, which she made me savour, like it or not, I can’t find words to describe it! I have no happiness, because in the most excruciating way she lovingly bound my feet to a pole, not to mention other harsh tortures which I had brought upon myself through her ‘love’. If I’m supposed to be thankful to her for that, she will have a long wait to hear me say it. text Und knetten mich Und fretten mich, Das ich mein sünd möcht büssen. and bite me and plague me so much, that I could be redeemed for all my sins. II Zu Prespurg vor dem ofenloch Ich und der Ebser hetten rät. Zwar schüren, haitzen kund ich doch, Das ich den künig fürher jagt. Ich meldt mich, das er es ersach. Er sprach zu mir: ‘dein ungemach Leidst du von der, die an dir brach, Dorumb das dir die saitten nimmer klungen.’ Ich antwurt im an als gever: ‘Hett ich gehabt ain peutel swer Als euer genad, vernempt die mär, Von meiner frauen wer mir bas gelungen.’ In Pressburg, in front of a stove, Ebser and I met for council. I managed to stoke the oven so well that the king had to come out of the adjoining room. He saw me and said, ‘You’re suffering because your lady left you as you don’t ring her bell anymore!’ I answered immediately, ‘If I had had such a heavy moneybag as Your Grace, then – get the message – I would have fared a lot better with my lady.’ III Ich hoff, mein sach möcht werden güt, Liess herzog Fridrich seinen strauss; Wie er desselben nicht entüt, So ist dem schimpf der bodem auss. Segs tausent guldin wil er han, Die bülschaft käm mich sawer an. Do sis verbott, hett ichs gelän, So törft mein rugg jetz gen der banck nicht krachen In Ungerlant die lange nacht, Da man die küss aufs sätteln macht. Dorumb ain jeder minner tracht, Damit er bül, das er des schimpfs müg glachen. I hope that the trial takes a good turn if Duke Frederick backs off from fighting me. If he doesn’t, things will get serious. He wants 6,000 ducats, in that case my love affair will turn rather sour! If I had let it go, when she refused my love, then my back would not have to sigh for pain while lying on the bench during the long night here in Hungary, where they use saddles as pillows. And so: may every lover play the love game in such a way that he can laugh about such pleasures! English translations of Der mai mit lieber zal and Der oben swebt by Albrecht Classen. All other translations by Crawford Young. 19 about the performers Eric Larrayadieu About tonight’s performers Andreas Scholl countertenor Andreas Scholl has released a series of highly accclaimed solo recordings: Arias for Senesino, for which he won the 2006 Classical Brit Singer of the Year award; Heroes, a disc of arias by Handel, Mozart, Hasse and Gluck; Robert Dowland’s A Musicall Banquet; Vivaldi Motets with the Australian Brandenburg Orchestra; Wayfaring Stranger, a selection of specially arranged English and American folksongs with the Orpheus Chamber Orchestra; and Arcadia, a collection of rare and unpublished cantatas by 20 composers from Rome’s Arcadian Circle. His discography also includes Solomon and Saul under Paul McCreesh, the Gramophone Awardwinning accounts of Vivaldi’s Stabat mater and Caldara’s Maddalena ai piedi di Cristo; Il duello amoroso, a selection of Handel’s Italian cantatas with Accademia Bizantina; and his latest recordings, Crystal Tears and Oswald von Wolkenstein: Songs of Myself. A committed recitalist, Andreas Scholl performs at the world’s leading concert halls and festivals, including at the Last Night of the Proms in 2005. He has appeared with the Cleveland Orchestra, Deutsches SymphonieOrchester Berlin, Boston Symphony Orchestra, Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, Akademie für Alte Musik Berlin, Freiburger Barockorchester and the Munich Philharmonic Orchestra. Operatic engagements have included Bertarido (Rodelinda) for Glyndebourne Festival and the Metropolitan Opera, New York, and the title-role in Giulio Cesare at Royal Danish Opera, Théâtre des ChampsÉlysées and Opéra de Lausanne. This season’s highlights include a concert tour based around the life and work of Oswald von Wolkenstein, two concert performances of Giulio Cesare with Cecilia Bartoli at the Salle Pleyel, Paris, and concerts with the Deutsche Radiophilharmonie, Dresden Philharmonic and the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra. This spring he has also undertaken a recital tour to Asia, including Beijing, Shanghai, Hong Kong, Tokyo and Seoul. Andreas Scholl was born in Germany and his early musical training was with the Kiedricher Chorbuben. He later went on to study under Richard Levitt and René Jacobs at the Schola Cantorum Basiliensis. Among his many awards are two ECHO Awards, a Prix de l’Union de la Presse Musicale Belge and an Edison Award in 2002 for A Musicall Banquet. about the performers Shield of Harmony Shield of Harmony is a quartet of 15thcentury-music specialists. The ensemble’s name refers to the circular shield held by the allegorical maiden Harmony (Musica), the Seventh Liberal Art as described by Martianus Capella (c420) in his Marriage of Philology and Mercury. From the shield’s concentric rings emanates celestial music – the socalled ‘Music of the Spheres’. Ensemble director Crawford Young graduated from New England Conservatory in Boston in 1976. He studied medieval music with Thomas Binkley at Stanford University prior to joining the medieval quartet Sequentia in Cologne in 1978. He has been a founding member of two prominent medieval ensembles, the Boston-based Project Ars Nova and the Ferrara Ensemble of Basle, which under his direction in 1996 won a Diapason d’Or de l’Année and was shortlisted for a Gramophone Award. Since 1982 Crawford Young has taught lute and various medieval music courses at the Schola Cantorum in Basle and has given courses at conservatories and universities in Europe, North America and Australia. He has also published research articles and a facsimile edition of early lute manuscripts. With some 30 critically acclaimed early-music recordings spanning three decades, he is well-known to early music audiences. As lutenist and guitarist he has accompanied Andreas Scholl since 2004. Kathleen Dineen is from County Cork, Ireland, and was awarded an Irish Arts Council Bursary to study voice with Richard Levitt and Dominique Vellard at the Schola Cantorum, where she currently teaches medieval singing. In addition to being a guest teacher at the Centre for Early Music Performance and Research at the University of Birmingham, she has sung with many ensembles including The Clerkes of Oxenford, Sequentia and the Ferrara Ensemble, and since 2001 has directed the White Raven a cappella trio, with which she has recorded two CDs. She has been musical director for a number of productions including the medieval Easter play from Tours in 21 about the performers 2004 and A Celtic Voyage, in collaboration with Ouroboros Theatre Ireland in 2008. She has made many appearances in concert series and festivals throughout Europe, and has been featured on many numerous broadcasts in USA, Australia and Europe. Margit Übellacker studied dulcimer at the Bruckner Conservatory in Linz with Karl-Heinz Schickhaus and with Birgit Stolzenburg-De Biasio at the Richard Strauss Conservatory in Munich, before going on to study with Crawford Young at the Schola Cantorum Basiliensis. She has performed in Europe, South America, Asia, Australia and in the 22 USA and has taken part in radio and CD recordings with groups such as L’Arpeggiata, Musica Fiorita, Il Suonar Parlante, Concilium Musicum Wien, the Australian Brandenburg Orchestra, Orchestre de Radio France, L’Orfeo Barockorchester, as well as with Crawford Young (lute), Aline Zylberajch (fortepiano) and with her own ensembles, Dulce Melos and La Gioia Armonica. With the latter she won several prizes for best debut CD, in music by Caldara. his practical music studies in the Medieval Department of the Schola Cantorum. There he studied lute with Crawford Young, vielle with Randall Cook and singing with Kathleen Dineen. In 2006 he completed his diploma in medieval lute, graduating with honours. He plays regularly with a number of ensembles including Dulce Melos, Les Flamboyants and Le Basile and leads the ensemble Leones. Besides a busy performing career, he also runs courses on medieval music and publishes articles and editions on the subject. Since 2008 he has directed courses on medieval music at Burg Fürsteneck in Germany. Marc Lewon specialises in medieval strings and medieval Germanic languages and literature. After gaining a Master’s degree in musicology and medieval German from Heidelberg University, he moved to Basle to further about the performers enfants terribles (Jean Cocteau) and Beyond Therapy (Christopher Durang). He recently performed as St George in a satirical adaptation of the medieval story that premiered as George in the Dragon’s Den at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. Bart Vanlaere narrator The actor Bart Vanlaere studied stage direction at the RITCS in Brussels and graduated from the Arts Educational School in London. His acting credits include King Billy (for BBC Northern Ireland) and as Salvador Dali in the film Commercial Break. He has performed on stage with NTG (Gent) in Berlin Berlin, in London and in the Netherlands,as well as in his native Belgium, Edinburgh and New York Off-Broadway in Dancing under the Bridge, Hello Dali, The Chairs (Eugene Ionesco), Les Bart Vanlaere has also appeared in Dutch and Belgian television series such as 12 steden 13 ongelukken, Zone Stad and Familie and is in regular demand as a voice-over artist for commercials and CD-roms. Jos Groenier director Jos Groenier studied stage design in Antwerp and Maastricht, as well as percussion at the Arnhem Conservatory and he has performed in a wide variety of styles, from classical to pop and jazz. He has also worked as an actor and director for a commedia dell’arte group and was co-founder of the Utrechtse Theater Initiatieven. He began working as an independent designer/director in Utrecht, undertaking projects for Camerata Trajectina and the Holland Early Music 23 about the performers Lover, Night and Day, Ghosts, The Kitchen, The Glass Menagerie and The Seagull. Festival, among others, and is in demand all over Europe, including Copenhagen, Cologne, Oslo, Rome, Cracow and Istanbul. He has directed several Baroque operas in the Netherlands. Since 2001 Jos Groenier has developed multi-discipline performances that combine theatre, music, dance, film and circus. Recent highlights have included a cabaret tour in Holland and Belgium, Carmen for Opera Kiev, ‘Remember Me’ with the Monteverdi Choir, which toured in the Netherlands, while this year includes a tour of Elvis Costello’s The Juliet Letters. Sjaak Ramakers He taught stage design and directing at the Tilburg Conservatory from 1989 to 1996. He now regularly lectures at the conservatories of Amsterdam, Tilburg and Maastricht, as well as being a guest lecturer in Oslo. In 2002 he joined the theatre company Paardenkathedraal, working on such productions as A Streetcar Named Desire, Blood Wedding, Anytime, Anyplace, Anywhere, The Father and Betrayal. Uri Rapaport lighting designer Uri Rapaport first became interested in lighting design aged 14, teaching himself via amateur theatre productions. He began his professional career in 1978, working as a lighting engineer and technical manager for the Stadsschouwburg in Utrecht. In 1996 he founded his own company, Rapatech. In 1991 he met the Flemish director Dirk Tanghe, with whom he has collaborated on many productions, including Hamlet, A Midsummer Night’s Dream, Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf, The Misanthrope, The Programme produced by Harriet Smith; printed by Sharp Print Limited; advertising by Cabbell (tel. 020 8971 8450) Please make sure that all digital watch alarms and mobile phones are switched off during the performance. In accordance with the requirements of the licensing authority, sitting or standing in any gangway is not permitted. Smoking is not permitted anywhere on the Barbican premises. No eating or drinking is allowed in the auditorium. No cameras, tape recorders or any other recording equipment may be taken into the hall. 24 He has also designed lighting for musicals and plays produced by the Stage Entertainment Company, including The Chain, Collected Stories, The Housekeeper, Moments of Luck, The Sound of Music, Sunset Boulevard, High School Musical and Evita. Uri Rapaport has also worked on civic projects, including the opening of the Amsterdam Arena and the Gay Games, as well as designing for museums, film and architecture, exhibiting his own photographic and video work, and giving lectures at the universities of Amsterdam and Brussels. Barbican Centre Silk Street, London EC2Y 8DS Administration 020 7638 4141 Box Office 020 7638 8891 Great Performers Last-Minute Concert Information Hotline 0845 120 7505 www.barbican.org.uk