Sleeve
Notes
LA FÊTE was composed during the
Spring and Summer of 1957. The action takes place
in a country setting during a garden party like those which were given
at the time on the terraces running along the Nicolet river.
With all the innocence in the world, a young
man experiences his first feelings of love, made up as much of
dreams as of reality.
The VALSES POUR MARIE VETSERA, however,
written during Autumn 1957 and Winter 1958, are based on an authentic
incident: the ill-fated affaire between the Archduke Rudolf and
Maria Vetsera in that all-too gay Vienna of the Strauss family.
This time we meet two real lovers, beset
by insurmountable difficulties, and to whom death offered the only
solution in the hunting lodge at Mayerling on the 30th January, 1889.
The story is seen through the eyes of
the young girl who has no hesitation in naming the
cause of the tragedy that befalls her: the Hofburg, the imperial palace
and symbol of oppression.
One would not be far wrong in seeing
in these «engagé» works
the representation of the crisis experienced by every sensitive
young man the first time he faces up to a society which is grossly
materialistic, hypocritical and deaf to all suggestions of change. These
compositions are a plea for a freer and consequently happier life.
The MÉLODIES, written at various
stages in my evolution, draw their inspiration from a variety of experiences
and authors.
What esthetic elements have I brought
to these works? After careful consideration, I
decided to opt for a different path than that followed by the majority
of my fellow composers.
Instead of choosing some instrument
and torturing it to extract ususual sounds. I preferred to listen for
and express the song which flows from that one incomparable
instrument,
human nature itself...
JEAN CHATILLON, Summer 1974, rang de la
Grande Rivière
Programme
Notes & Lyrics
| TWO SUITES FOR PIANO |
| LA
FÊTE (1957) |
| |
|
|
|
| I) |
Introduction |
II) |
Festivites |
| 1 |
Arrival
at the garden party
|
5 |
Play
of moods
|
| 2 |
Conversation
|
6 |
Tenderness
|
| 3 |
Light-hearted
rondo
|
7 |
I
danced on and on!
|
| 4 |
Encounters
|
8 |
Only
she ........
|
| |
|
|
|
| III) |
Ending |
| 9 |
Solitude Waltz
|
| 10 |
The soft mirror of your eyes
|
| 11 |
Moonlit dreams on the water
|
| 12 |
Life fades from the party
|
VALSES POUR MARIE VETSERA (1958)
1)
The child's face frozen in despair at this window is mine
2) Hope and suffering dance together
3) The soldiers strut like great puppets
4) How I loathe the Hofburg, forbidding pile of stone
5) What a waltz I could dance with him!
6) The night trembles with the light of the little drawing-room lamp
7) Court waltzes fade away like grey smoke
8) A touch of something gay invades my senses
9) The bloody snow at Mayerling.
| ELEVEN
SONGS FROM QUEBEC POETS |
| |
| THE
LOVER (1958) |
| Words
by Jean Chatillon |
One
heady night, he spoke
of the childish madness of his love:
« I have written a hundred poems or more
and when the moment comes to praise you.
I no longer know what to say
and I am shy
and I can only gaze at you ... »
He wanted so much for my love
to equal the love he felt for me:
« Your beauty shone above all others.
do not deny it, for I can judge!
You were a marvel without peer
and you reminded me
of a lovely moth fluttering in the night... » |
| |
| THE
KING'S DAUGHTER (1971) |
| Words
by Louis Caron (from I'LLUSIONNISTE, 1973, Écrits des
Forges) |
The
king's daughter
had three gowns, three sets of Finery.
And the people said :
« The king's daughter has three gowns. »
There came a knight, who said to her :
« You have a lovely gown. »
And the king's daughter fell in love.
The marriage day dawned.
The women had dressed up in their finest gowns,
but not the king's daughter.
She said:
« I do not want to be loved just for my gown. »
An old monk came and spoke :
« Oh daughter of the king, it is God's will
that young girls put on their gowns. »
She replied:
« But this evening I must take it off. »
And the monk nodded his head.
So the king's daughter said :
« I shall adorn myself in the gown of the sea. »
and the king's daughter was no more. |
| |
| VIOLIN FOR A VILLANELLA (1968) |
| Words by Emile Nelligan |
There where the moon shines in the coolness of the dell,
Fine dark-haired lads and golden-haired girls.
To the strains of the oboe or violin
Go dance the villanella.
The heathland bathes in gentle perfume.
Let your joy burn bright in the glow of the coals:
Let your heart be gay. let your step be light.
Go dance the villanella.
The old folk are sitting on an oaken bench
Watching your dance with tear-bright eyes,
As you brush against them lost in joy...
Go dance the villanella.
Let our hearts be gay ! for the gleaming orb
Will silver your brows with its changing light:
Far into the night on the feast of Saint John
Go dance the villanella. |
| |
| LULLABY (1969) |
| Words by Emile Nelligan |
There's someone weeping in the quiet sadness
Of April nights:
There's someone weeping in the endless lassitude
Of a long exile.
There's someone weeping tears of pain
Within my heart... |
| |
| A WINTER EVENING (1973) |
| Words by Emile Nelligan |
Ah!
how thickly the flakes have fallen!
My window is a frosted garden.
Ah! how thickly the flakes have fallen!
What is the spasm of life, compared
To the pain that I feel, that I feel!
Every
pond lies frozen,
My soul is dark: Where can I be? where can I go?
Every hope lies frozen:
I am another Norway,
A land the fair skies have deserted.
Weep, birds of February,
For the evil shiver of the world,
Weep, birds of February,
Weep for my tears, weep for my roses.
On the branches of the juniper tree.
Ah!
how thickly the flakes have fallen!
My window is a frosted garden.
Ah! how thickly the flakes have fallen!
What is the spasm of life. compared
To the lassitude that I feel, that I feel... |
| |
| THE TREE (1963) |
| Words by Pierre Chatitlon (Unpublished early work) |
In the air... the silence
of leafy clusters
embroidered on the night ...
The breath of a shooting star
filters through the dream ...
The dream of the leaves.
like a corolla heavy with drops of sleep.
opens out and slumbers.
The long purple river of the evening
flows cooly past.
bathing the sea-shaped tresses of my tree
spread out in sleep. |
| |
| LIGHT
I (1971) |
| Words
by Pierre Chatillon (from SOLEIL DE BIVOUAC, 1969, Éditions
du Jour) |
My arms are full of tall flowers of light:
at dawn. let me transplant into your flesh
their soft stems, to free you from the earth.
Oh my love. be crystal clear and more beautiful
than a shining-haired sun. take wings.
and swear to forsake mortality forever. |
| |
| LIGHT II (1971) |
| Words
by Pierre Chatillon (idem) |
She offered me her body like a lamp
with open wings
like a winged lamp.
You will be able to see death coming from a long way off, she said.
and so take flight
by my light. |
| |
| THE SHELLS OF MY DREAMS (1971) |
| Words by Gatien Lapointe |
Across the shells of my dreams
autumn lays snow silences.
Beneath the shadow of my eyelids
the stars go out one by one
and in the pale echo of their dance
your face draws away, far off...
Sometimes the sun flashes back from water
like flowers of fire!
If I
go back to my childhood skies
in the very heart of summer
— will you still show me the way?—
I will break through this wall of dust.
For across the shells of my dreams
autumn lays snow silences. |
| |
| SEASCAPE (1971) |
| Words by Gatien Lapointe |
|
Sleep... in the hollow of the waves.
eyes full of sky, full of warmth.
Dreamlike, the sea veiled in ships
adrift, murmuring
slow melancholic refrains.
And, in the sudden mists of evening.
powerless to control its desires.
the soul of my childhood is swamped.
Suns,
hazy in the water
far from the sky and far from the day. |
| |
| FLASHES OF LIGHT (1971) |
| Words by Gatien Lapointe |
The skies of my childhood float down with the snow:
white music dwells in the world.
Wreathed in blue smoke, the gods loiter
and the wind cherishes in its cupped hands
the smell of facile fates.
In the depths of the sky, the river has shut itself in
with its dream flakes;
the whole earth has painted itself white
to send morning back to sleep among the stars.
The
skies of my childhood float down with the snow;
it is snowing flowers soaked in sunlight.
My sorrows brush gently
across my forehead, on the misty roofs,
and the roads which open in my eyes
are consumed in a fire of light.
— oh these white melodies
that the stars place upon my shoulders!—
The skies of my childhood float down through the snow. |
| |
Credits
This
disc is a remake of a recording made in 1974, with the help of
l'Université du
Québec à Trois-Rivières. For historical
reasons, it is
presented here about the same as it was at that time.
Traducteur: Francis White
Graphiste: Nicole Vigneault |
|