Art song cycles have always appealed to me.  A composer will group songs based on a theme, poet, or even tell a through-line narrative story.  On my Junior Recital, I performed Robert Schumann’s art song cycle Frauenliebe und Leben.  It’s a stunning piece of 8 poems recounting “A Woman’s Love and Life,” but looking at the poetry in the current day: it’s dated.  The woman devotes herself to a man, then their baby, and when the man dies, her life is over.  I paired this cycle with Jake Heggie’s Thoughts Unspoken, a 4-song set, written in 1996, which delves into relationship issues from a man’s perspective; it was written for a baritone.  You may notice that my Junior Recital has stuck with me.  “Tell me the truth about love” is a modern retelling of Frauenliebe und Leben.  We celebrate the joys and we mourn the losses.  But there’s also self-discovery, inner-strength, idleness, authenticity, and recovery.  I’m thrilled to highlight my favorite pieces from Libby Larsen’s Love after 1950; the gorgeous and challenging work of Sheila Silver’s Beauty Intolerable, a songbook of Edna St Vincent Millay poems; the passion of B.E. Boykin and Undine Smith Moore’s music; the genius of Stephen Sondheim; and truly all of the composers and poets of this recital.

I end the program with Heggie’s “To Speak of Love” from Thoughts Unspoken.  This song rings true for me: I wasn’t taught to speak of love.  I owe my understanding of love and empathy to my education in the arts and the people I have met through this career.  And I’m fortunate to have a loving partner who understands my blind spots.  Thank you for coming on this journey with me - supported by my wonderful collaborator, and fellow Wisconsinite, Kevin Korth.

- Courtney Miller

from Cabaret Songs

O Tell Me the Truth About Love

W.H. Auden

Liebe, l’amour, amor, amoris

Some say that love's a little boy

And some say it's a bird

Some say it makes the world go round

And some say that's absurd

And when I asked the man next-door

Who looked as if he knew

His wife got very cross indeed

And said it wouldn't do

Does it look like a pair of pyjamas

Or the ham in a temperance hotel?

O tell me the truth about love.

Does its odour remind one of llamas

Or has it a comforting smell?

O tell me the truth about love.

Is it prickly to touch as a hedge is

Or soft as eiderdown fluff?

Is it sharp or quite smooth at the edges?

O tell me the truth about love

Your feelings when you meet it,

I am told you can’t forget,

I’ve sought it since I was a child

But haven’t found it;

I’m getting on for thirty-five,

And still, I do not know

What kind of creature it can be

That bothers people so

When it comes, will it come without warning

Just as I'm picking my nose?

O tell me the truth about love.

Will it knock on my door in the morning

Or tread in the bus on my toes?

O tell me the truth about love.

Will it come like a change in the weather?

Will its greeting be courteous or rough?

Will it alter my life altogether?

O tell me the truth about love

from Days and Nights

They might not need me - yet they might (c. 1878)

Emily Dickinson

They might not need me—yet they might—

I’ll let my Heart be just in sight—

A smile so small as mine might be

Precisely their necessity—

Just for this!

Cora Randall Fabbri

Just a multitude of curls,

Weighing down a little head;

Two wide eyes, not blue nor gray,

Like the sky ‘twixt night and day,

Small red mouth and all to say,

Has been said.

Just a saucy word or glance

And a hand held out to kiss;

Just a curl a ribbon through

Just a flower fresh and blue,

And to think what men will do

Just for this!

from Jubilee

Just one of those things

Cole Porter

It was just one of those things

Just one of those crazy flings

One of those bells that now and then rings

One of those things

It was just one of those nights

Just one of those fabulous flights

A trip to the moon on gossamer wings

It was one of those things

If we'd thought a bit about the end of it

As we started painting the town

We'd have been aware that our love affair

Was too hot not to cool down

So goodbye and amen

Here's hoping we'll meet now and then

It was great fun

But it was just one of those things

One of those things.

from Fifty Million Frenchmen

I'm unlucky at gambling

Cole Porter

I went to Monte Carlo

The other day

I went to Monte Carlo

To have some play

I went to Monte Carlo

And straight away

I went and fell in love with

The croupier

The croupier advised me

To back the red

The croupier was handsome

I lost my head

And when the game was over

And red was dead

I realized I'd played on

The black instead

For I'm unlucky at gambling

And I'm unlucky in love

Why should I go on scrambling

To get to heaven above?

It's bad enough to lose your purse

But when you lose your heart, it's even worse

Oh, I'm unlucky at gambling

And I'm unlucky in love

I took the croupier to

A picture show

I took the croupier to

A picture show

And though I snuggled close when

The lights were low

The croupier impressed me

As rather slow

I said, "I like George Clooney*

A lot, don't you?"

I said, "I like George Clooney

A lot, don't you?"

He didn't answer, but when

The show was through

I realized that he liked

George Clooney, too

For I'm unlucky at gambling

And I'm unlucky in love

Why should I go on scrambling

To get to heaven above?

It's bad enough to lose your purse

But when you lose your heart, it's even worse

Oh, I'm unlucky at gambling

And I'm unlucky in love

*George Clooney originally John Gilbert

from Kiss me Kate

So in love

Cole Porter

Strange dear, but true dear

When I'm close to you dear

The stars fill the sky

So in love, with you, am I

Even without you

My arms fold about you

You know, darling why

So in love with you am I

In love with the night mysterious

The night when you first were there

In love with the joy delirious

When I knew that you could care

So taunt me and hurt me

Deceive me and desert me

I'm yours until I die

So in love

So in love

So in love with you, my love, am I

from Mystery

The Mystery (1920)

Sara Teasdale

Your eyes drink of me,

Love makes them shine,

Your eyes that lean

So close to mine.

We have long been lovers,

We know the range

Of each other’s moods

And how they change;

But when we look

At each other so

Then we feel

How little we know;

The spirit eludes us,

Timid and free —

Can I ever know you

Or you know me?

After Love

Sara Teasdale

There is no magic any more,

We meet as other people do,

You work no miracle for me

Nor I for you.

You were the wind and I the sea—

There is no splendor any more,

I have grown listless as the pool

Beside the shore.

But though the pool is safe from storm

And from the tide has found surcease,

It grows more bitter than the sea,

For all its peace.

from Merrily We Roll Along

It started out like a song

We started quiet and slow with no surprise

And then one morning I woke to realize:

We had a good thing going.

It's not that nothing went wrong:

Some angry moments, of course, but just a few.

And only moments, no more, because we knew

We had this good thing going.

And if I wanted too much

Was that such a mistake at the time?

You never wanted enough

All right, tough, I don't make that a crime

And while it's going along

You take for granted some love will wear away

We took for granted a lot, but still I say:

It could have kept on growing

Instead of just kept on

We had a good thing going,

Going,

Gone.

from Follies and Merrily We Roll Along

and Sondheim on Sondheim (2010)

The sun comes up, I think about you.

The coffee cup, I think about you.

I want you so, it's like I'm losing my mind.

The morning ends, I think about you.

I talk to friends and think about you.

And do they know it's like I'm losing my mind?

All afternoon doing every little chore.

The thought of you stays bright.

Sometimes I stand in the middle of the floor

Not going left, not going right.

I dim the lights and think about you.

Spend sleepless nights to think about you.

You said you loved me,

or were you just being kind?

Or am I losing my mind?

Not a day goes by. Not a single day

But you're somewhere a part of my life

And it looks like you'll stay as the days go by

I keep thinking when does it end?

Where's the day I'll have started forgetting?

But I just go on thinking and sweating

And cursing and crying and turning and reaching

and waking and dying

And no, not a day goes by.

Not a blessed day

But you're still somehow part of my life

And you won't go away.

So there's hell to pay and until I die,

I'll die day after day after day

Til the days go by

from Love After 1950

The Empty Song

Liz Lochhead

Today saw the last of my Spanish shampoo.

Lasted an age now that sharing with you,

such a thing of the past is.

Giant Size. The brand

was always a compromise.

My new one's tailored exactly to my needs.

Non-spill. Protein-rich.

Feeds Body, promises to solve my problem hair.

Sweetheart, these days it's hard to care.

But oh oh insomniac moonlight

how unhoneyed is my middle of the night.

I could see you

far enough. Beyond me

how we'll get back together.

Campsites in Spain, moonlight,

heavy weather.

Today saw the end of my Spanish shampoo,

the end of my third month without you.

from Love After 1950

I Make my Magic (1973)

Muriel Rukeyser

I make my magic

Of forgotten things

Night and nightmare and the midnight wings

Of childhood butterflies—

And the darkness, the straining dark

Underwater and under sleep—

Night and a heartbreak try to keep

Myself, until before my eyes

The morning sunlight pours

And I am clear of all the chains

And the magic now that rains

Down around me is

A sunlight magic,

I come to a sunlight magic,

Yours.

from Newer Everyday

Silence is all we dread

Emily Dickinson

Silence is all we dread.

There’s Ransom in a Voice—

But Silence is Infinity.

Himself have not a face.

from Natural Selection

Animal Passion

Gini Savage

Fierce as a bobcat’s spring

with start-up speeds of sixty miles per hour

I want a lover to sweep me off my feet

and slide me into the gutter

without the niceties of small-talk roses or champagne.

I mean business.

I want whiskey

I want to be swallowed whole,

I want tiles to spring off the walls

when we enter hotel rooms or afternoon apartments

I won’t pussy-foot around responsibility

“shoulds” and “oughts” are out for good.

And I don’t want to be a fat domestic cat

I want to be frantic,

yowls and growls to sound like the lion house

at feeding time

I don’t give a damn who hears,

I don’t give a damn!

no discreet eavesdroppers’ coughs can stop us

in our frenzy.

Let the voyeurs voient

and let the great cats come.

Published in 2018

I used to sigh

Madeleine Dring

I used to sigh for the ideal love,

I used to cry for the moon,

I really thought I should find true love,

And it had to be soon;

But oh, what a fool was I.

I used to dream of the one untouched

Waiting to come to my arms,

I was the dream he would love so much,

He’d never look elsewhere for charms,

But oh, what a fool was I.

And now that I know the things that I know,

I sleep, but I dream no more.

Though not made of ice, I’ll never love twice

the way that I loved before.

I used to hope for sweet memories,

Now I try to forget.

After all that, you’ve done to me,

I’ll take you back yet,

For oh, what a fool am I.

from One Life Stand

Rubbish at adultery

Sophie Hannah (2007)

Must I give up another night

To hear you whinge and whine

About how terribly grim you feel

And what a dreadful swine

You are? You say you’ll never leave

Your wife and children. Fine;

When have I ever asked you to?

I’d settle for a kiss.

Couldn’t you, for an hour or so,

Just leave them out of this?

A rare ten minutes off from guilty

Diatribes—what bliss.

Yes, I’m aware you’re sensitive:

A tortured, wounded soul.

I’m after passion, thrills, and fun.

You say fun takes its toll,

So what are we doing here? I fear

We’ve lost our common goal.

You’re rubbish at adultery.

I think you ought to quit.

Trouble is, at fidelity

You’re also slightly shit.

Choose one and do it properly

You stupid, stupid git.

from Beauty Intolerable

What lips my lips have kissed (1920)

Edna St. Vincent Millay

What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,

I have forgotten, and what arms have lain

Under my head till morning; but the rain

Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh

Upon the glass and listen for reply,

And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain

For unremembered lads that not again

Will turn to me at midnight with a cry.

Thus in the winter stands the lonely tree,

Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,

Yet knows its boughs more silent than before:

I cannot say what loves have come and gone,

I only know that summer sang in me

A little while, that in me sings no more.

from 5 Songs to Poems -- Texts by Walt Whitman

To you (1855)

Walt Whitman

Stranger, if you passing meet me and desire to speak to me, why should you not speak to me?

And why should I not speak to you?

from Valentines from Amherst

Wild nights - Wild nights! (1861)

Emily Dickinson

Wild nights - Wild nights!

Were I with thee

Wild nights should be

Our luxury!

Futile - the winds -

To a Heart in port -

Done with the Compass -

Done with the Chart!

Rowing in Eden -

Ah - the Sea!

Might I but moor - tonight -

In thee!

Secret (1927)

Gwendolyn Bennet

I shall make a song like your hair.…

Gold-woven with shadows green-tinged,

And I shall play with my song

As my fingers might play with your hair.

Deep in my heart

I shall play with my song of you,

Gently….

I shall laugh

At its sensitive luster…

I shall wrap my song in a blanket,

Blue like your eyes are blue

With tiny shots of silver.

I shall wrap it caressingly,

Tenderly.…

I shall sing a lullaby

To the song I have made

Of your hair and eyes...

And you will never know

That deep in my heart

I shelter a song for you

Secretly….

I want to die while you love me (1922)

Georgia Douglas Johnson

I want to die while you love me

Georgia Douglas Johnson

I want to die while you love me,

While yet you hold me fair,

While laughter lies upon my lips

And lights are in my hair.

I want to die while you love me,

And bear to that still bed,

Your kisses turbulent, unspent

To warm me when I’m dead.

I want to die while you love me

Oh, who would care to live

Till love has nothing more to ask

And nothing more to give?

I want to die while you love me

And never, never see

The glory of this perfect day

Grow dim or cease to be!

I want to die while you love me,

And bear to that still bed,

Your kisses turbulent, unspent

To warm me when I’m dead.

from Cabaret Songs

Funeral Blues (1937)

W.H. Auden

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,

Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,

Silence the pianos and with muffled drum

Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead

Scribbling on the sky the message ‘He is Dead.’

Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,

Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves

He was my North, my South, my East and West,

My working week and my Sunday rest,

My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;

I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,

Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,

Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;

For nothing now can ever come to any good.

Op. 28, No. 20

In Memoriam A.H.H. (1850)

Alfred Lord Tennyson

I hold it true, whate'er befall;

I feel it when I sorrow most;

'Tis better to have loved and lost

Than never to have loved at all.

from Thoughts Unspoken

To speak of love

John Hall

I can speak about loneliness.

I can speak about pain.

Showing anger is easy for me,

I know how to complain.

I can tell you a story.

I can argue and fight.

I’ll convince and persuade you

When I’m wrong, that I am right.

I’ll describe complex theories.

I can rave, I can rant about trivial details.

But there’s one thing I can’t -

I wasn’t taught to speak of love

And when I try to say just how I feel

It sounds unreal

My words get in the way

Oh, sure, I’ll say “I love you, dear.”

That never has been hard

But I have more to tell you

than a dime store greeting card.

If words cannot express my love

And what I say sounds wrong, sounds wrong

Then music is my only hope

And when you hear this song

Know that that it says: I love you

Says I need you

Just understand one thing:

You are the song I sing