This vignette comes face to face with the creatures of nightmares. Take a seat and stay for a bit. Some may not have much of a choice.
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Arranged: Madi Fabber
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Visual Art: Paul Tamburro
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Performers: Eileen Tucci, Madi Fabber, Ian Chan, Andrew Lu
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Audio Editing: Dash Chin
Video Editing: Nadine Jackson and Jessica Shand
The Teddy Bears’ Picnic
Composed: John Walter Bratton
Lyrics: Jimmy Kennedy
Arranged by Ian Chan
Singers: Eileen Tucci, soprano; Madi Fabber, alto; Ian Chan, tenor/piano; Andrew Lu, bass
If you go down in the woods today
You're sure of a big surprise
If you go down in the woods today
You'd better go in disguise!
For every bear that ever there was will gather there for certain
Because today's the day the Teddy Bears have their picnic
Every Teddy Bear who's been good is sure of a treat today
There's lots of marvelous things to eat and wonderful games to play
Beneath the trees where nobody sees
They'll hide and seek as long as they please
'Cause that's the way the Teddy Bears have their picnic
Le Papillon et La Fleur
Composed: Gabriel Fauré, Poem: Victor Hugo
Performers: Eileen Tucci, mezzo-soprano; Andrew Lu, baritone; Ian Chan, piano
[French]
La pauvre fleur disait au papillon céleste:
Ne fuis pas!
Vois comme nos destins sont différents. Je reste,
Tu t’en vas!
Pourtant nous nous aimons, nous vivons sans les hommes
Et loin d’eux,
Et nous nous ressemblons, et l’on dit que nous sommes
Fleurs tous deux!
Mais, hélas! l’air t’emporte et la terre m’enchaîne.
Sort cruel!
Je voudrais embaumer ton vol de mon haleine
Dans le ciel!
Mais non, tu vas trop loin! – Parmi des fleurs sans nombre
Vous fuyez,
Et moi je reste seule à voir tourner mon ombre
À mes pieds.
Tu fuis, puis tu reviens; puis tu t’en vas encore
Luire ailleurs.
Aussi me trouves-tu toujours à chaque aurore
Toute en pleurs!
Oh! pour que notre amour coule des jours fidèles,
Ô mon roi,
Prends comme moi racine, ou donne-moi des ailes
Comme à toi!
[English]
The humble flower said to the heavenly butterfly:
Do not flee!
See how our destinies differ. Fixed to earth am I,
You fly away!
Yet we love each other, we live without men
And far from them,
And we are so alike, it is said that both of us
Are flowers!
But alas! The breeze bears you away, the earth holds me fast.
Cruel fate!
I would perfume your flight with my fragrant breath
In the sky!
But no, you flit too far! Among countless flowers
You fly away,
While I remain alone, and watch my shadow circle
Round my feet.
You fly away, then return; then take flight again
To shimmer elsewhere.
And so you always find me at each dawn
Bathed in tears!
Ah, that our love might flow through faithful days,
O my king,
Take root like me, or give me wings
Like yours!
Erlkönig
Composed: Franz Schubert
Performers: Eileen Tucci, mezzo-soprano; Andrew Lu, baritone; Ian Chan, piano
[German]
Wer reitet so spät durch Nacht und Wind?
Es ist der Vater mit seinem Kind:
Er hat den Knaben wohl in dem Arm,
Er fasst ihn sicher, er hält ihn warm.
„Mein Sohn, was birgst du so bang dein Gesicht?“
„Siehst, Vater, du den Erlkönig nicht?
Den Erlenkönig mit Kron’ und Schweif?“
„Mein Sohn, es ist ein Nebelstreif.“
„Du liebes Kind, komm, geh mit mir!
Gar schöne Spiele spiel’ ich mit dir;
Manch’ bunte Blumen sind an dem Strand,
Meine Mutter hat manch gülden Gewand.“
„Mein Vater, mein Vater, und hörest du nicht,
Was Erlenkönig mir leise verspricht?“
„Sei ruhig, bleibe ruhig, mein Kind:
In dürren Blättern säuselt der Wind.“
„Ich liebe dich, mich reizt deine schöne Gestalt;
Und bist du nicht willig, so brauch ich Gewalt.“
„Mein Vater, mein Vater, jetzt fasst er mich an!
Erlkönig hat mir ein Leids getan!“
Dem Vater grausets, er reitet geschwind,
Er hält in Armen das ächzende Kind,
Erreicht den Hof mit Mühe und Not:
In seinen Armen das Kind war tot.
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[English]
Who rides so late through the night and wind?
It is the father with his child.
He has the boy in his arms;
he holds him safely, he keeps him warm.
‘My son, why do you hide your face in fear?’
‘Father, can you not see the Erlking?
The Erlking with his crown and tail?’
‘My son, it is a streak of mist.’
‘Sweet child, come with me.
I’ll play wonderful games with you.
Many a pretty flower grows on the shore;
my mother has many a golden robe.’
‘Father, father, do you not hear
what the Erlking softly promises me?’
‘Calm, be calm, my child:
the wind is rustling in the withered leaves.’
‘I love you, your fair form allures me,
and if you don’t come willingly, I’ll use force.’
‘Father, father, now he’s seizing me!
The Erlking has hurt me!’
The father shudders, he rides swiftly,
he holds the moaning child in his arms;
with one last effort he reaches home;
the child lay dead in his arms.