Lunchbreak Concert: Jillian Bain Christie

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Aberdeen-born soprano Jillian and duo partner Aden perform a varied programme showcasing the uniquely beautiful sound worlds of the Nordic Art Song tradition, alongside contemporary Scots Song repertoire. The recital features works by Jean Sibelius in celebration of the 160th anniversary of his birth.

 

Programme

Jillian Bain Christie: Soprano
Aden Mazur: Piano

 

Demanten på marssnön (The diamond on the March snow) - Jean Sibelius (1865 – 1957)
Säf, säf, susa (Reeds, reeds, whisper)
Var det en dröm? ( Was it a dream?)
Illalle (To Evening)

 

Ca’ the yowes - arr. Rory Boyle (b. 1951)
The Man-in-the Mune -  Thea Musgrave (b.1928)
Ballad -  James MacMillan (b. 1959)
The Laird o' Cockpen - arr. John Maxwell Geddes (1941 – 2017)

 

Saa tag mit hjerte (So take my heart) - Hugo Alfvén (1872 – 1960)
Skogen sover (The forest sleeps)
Kesäyö kirkkomaalla (Summer’s Night in the Churchyard) - Toivo Kuula (1883 – 1918)

 

Med en vandlilje (With a Waterlily) - Edvard Grieg (1843 – 1907)
En svane (A Swan)
Ein Traum ( A Dream)

 

JEAN SIBELIUS (1865—1957)

Demanten på marssnön (The diamond on the March snow)

På drivans snö där glimmar
en diamant så klar.
Ej fanns en tår, en pärla,
som högre skimrat har.

Utav en hemlig längtan
hon blänker himmelskt så:
hon blickar emot solen,
där skön den ses uppgå.

Vid foten av dess stråle
tillbedjande hon står
och kysser den i kärlek
och smälter i en tår.

O, sköna lott att älska
Det högsta livet ter,
Att stråla i dess solblick
Och dö, när skönst den ler!

(Josef Julius Wecksell)


On the driven snow there glimmers
a diamond so bright.
Never was there a tear, a pearl,
that shimmered as radiantly.

Out of a secret longing
she shines towards heaven:
she gazes at the sun,
where it rises in beauty.

At the foot of these rays
she stands adoring,
and kisses it with love
and melts into a teardrop.

Oh beautiful fate, to love
the highest that life has to offer,
to sparkle in this glimpse of the sun
and die, when it smiles so beautifully.

 

Säf, säf, susa (Reeds, reeds, whisper)

Säf, säf, susa,
våg, våg, slå, 
I sägen mig hvar Ingalill 
den unga månde gå?

Hon skrek som en vingskjuten and,
när hon sjönk i sjön,
det var när sista vår stod grön.

De voro henne gramse vid Östanålid,
det tog hon sig så illa vid.

De voro henne gramse för gods och gull
och för hennes unga kärleks skull.

De stucko en ögonsten med tagg,
de kastade smuts i en liljas dagg.

Så sjungen, sjungen sorgsång,
I sorgsna vågor små,
Säf, säf, susa,
våg, våg, slå!

(Gustaf Fröding)


Reeds, reeds, whisper;
waves, waves, lap.
Are you telling me where
young Ingalill has gone?

She cried out like a wounded duck 
when she sank into the lake.
It was when the spring was last green.

They were envious of her at Östanålid,
She took it so deeply to heart.

They envied her wealth and worldly goods,
And her young love.

They stuck a thorn into a jewel.
They spattered filth on a lily's dew.

So sing your lament,
you melancholy little waves,
Reeds, reeds, whisper;
waves, waves, lap.

 

Var det en dröm? (Was it a dream?)

Var det en dröm, att ljuvt en gång
jag var ditt hjärtas vän?
Jag minns det som en tystnad sång,
då strängen darrar än.

Jag minns en törnros av dig skänkt,
en blick så blyg och öm;
jag minns en avskedstår, som blänkt.
Var allt, var allt en dröm?

En dröm lik sippans liv så kort
uti en vårgrön ängd,
vars fägring hastigt vissnar bort
för nya blommors mängd.

Men mången natt jag hör en röst
vid bittra tårars ström:
göm djupt dess minne i ditt bröst,
det var din bästa dröm!

(Josef Julius Wecksell)


Was it a dream, that once sweetly
I was your heart’s friend?
I remember it like a song of silence,
the string still trembling.

I remember a thorn rose you gave,
a gaze so shy and affectionate;
I remember a good bye-tear, that glistened.
What was everything, was everything a dream?

A dream like the wild flowers' life so short
on a spring green meadow,
which beauty quickly fades away
for new flowers to grow.

But many nights I have heard a voice
as bitter tears flow;
hide its' memory deep in your chest
it was your best dream!

 

Illalle (To Evening)

Oi, terve! tumma, vieno tähtiilta,
Sun haaveellista hartauttas’ lemmin 
Ja suortuvaisi yötä sorjaa hemmin,
Mi hulmuaapi kulmais kuulamilta.

Kun oisit, ilta, oi, se tenhosilta,
Mi sielun multa siirtäis’ lentoisammin
Pois aatteen maille itse kun ma emmin,
Ja siip' ei kanna aineen kahlehilta!

Ja itse oisin miekkoinen se päivä,
Mi uu puneena 
saisin luokses’ liitää,
Kun tauonnut on työ ja puuha räivä,

Kun mustasiipi yö jo silmään siitää
Ja laaksot, vuoret verhoo harmaa häivä
Oi, ilta armas, silloin luokses kiitää!

(A. V. Forsman-Koskimies)


Welcome, dark, mild and starry evening!  
Your gentle fervour I adore 
and caress the dark tresses
That flutter round your brow.

If only you were the magic bridge
that would carry my soul away,
No longer burdened
by the cares of life!

And if it were the happy day
when, overcome with weariness, 
I might join you 
when work is over and duty done,

When night unfolds its black wings
and a grey curtain falls over hill and dale,
O evening, how I would hurry to you!

 

arr. RORY BOYLE (b. 1951)

Ca’ the yowes

Ca' the yowes to the knowes, 
Ca' them where the heather grows 
Ca' them where the burnie rows, 
     My bonie dearie.

Hark! the mavis' evening sang 
Sounding Cluden's woods amang, 
Then a-fauldin let us gang, 
     My bonie dearie.

Fair and lovely as thou art, 
Thou hast stown my very heart; 
I can die—but canna part, 
     My bonie dearie.

(Robert Burns)

 

THEA MUSGRAVE (b.1928)

The man-in-the-Mune

The man-in-the-mune's got cleik-i-the-back
An he wullna come oot tae play.

He sits by himsel on a shimmer o heaven,
An hears whit the starnies say,
But his cheeks gae black,
He purls his broo,
And his auld heid shaks wi' rage,
Thru the reengan clouds that jostle the yirth,
Whan God's on the rampage.

(Maurice Lindsay)

 

JAMES MACMILLAN (b. 1959)

Ballad

O! shairly ye hae seen my love
Doun whaur the waters wind:
He walks like ane wha fears nae man
And yet his e'en are kind.

O! shairly ye hae seen my love
At the turnin o' the tide;
For then he gethers in the nets
Doun be the waterside.

O! lassie I hae seen your love
At the turnin o' the tide;
And he was wi' the fisher-folk
Doun be the waterside.

The fisher-folk were at their trade
No far frae Walnut Grove;
They gether'd in their dreepin nets
And fund your ain true love.

(William Soutar)

 

arr. JOHN MAXWELL GEDDES (1941 – 2017)

The Laird o' Cockpen

The laird o’ Cockpen, he’s proud an’ he’s great,
His mind is ta’en up wi’ the things o’ the State;
He wanted a wife, his braw house to keep,
But favour wi’ wooin’ was fashious to seek.

Down by the dyke-side a lady did dwell,
At his table head he thocht she’d look well,
M’Leish’s ae dochter o’ Clavers-ha’ Lea,
A penniless lass wi’ a lang pedigree.

His wig was weel pouther’d and as gude as new,
His waistcoat was white, his coat it was blue;
He put on a ring, a sword, and cock’d hat,
And wha could refuse the laird wi’ a’ that?

He took the grey mare, and rade cannily,
And rapp’d at the yett o’ Clavers-ha’ Lea;
‘Gae tell Mistress Jean to come speedily ben, –
She’s wanted to speak to the laird o’ Cockpen.’

Mistress Jean she was makin’ the elderflower wine;
‘An’ what brings the laird at sic a like time?’
She put aff her apron, and on her silk goun,
Her mutch wi’ red ribbons, and gaed awa’ doun.

An’ when she cam’ ben, he bowed fu’ low,
An’ what was his errand he soon let her know;
Amazed was the laird when the lady said ‘Na’,
And wi’ a laigh curtsie she turned awa’.

Dumfounder’d was he, nae sigh did he gie,
He mounted his mare – he rade cannily;
An’ aften he thought, as he rade through the glen,
She’s daft to refuse the laird o’ Cockpen.

(Carolina Oliphant, Lady Nairne)

 

HUGO ALFVÉN (1872 – 1960)

Saa tag mit hjerte (So take my heart)

Saa tag mit Hjerte i dine Hænder,
men tag det varsomt og tag det blidt, 
det røde Hjerte, nu er det dit.

Det slaar saa roligt, det slaar saa dæmpet,
for det har elsket og det har lidt,
nu er det stille, nu er det dit.

Og det kan saares og det kan segne,
og det kan glemme og glemme tit,
men glemmer aldrig, at det er dit.

Det var saa staerkt og saa stolt, mit Hjerte,
det sov og drømte i Lyst og Leg,
nu kan det knuses, men kum af dig.

(Tove Ditlevsen)


Take my heart in your hands,
but take it carefully and take it kindly,
my red heart — now it is yours.

It beats so calmly, it beats so quietly,
for it has loved and it has suffered,
now it is quiet — now it is yours.

And it can be hurt and it can languish,
and it can forget, and it often does,
but it never forgets that it is yours.

It was so strong and so proud, my heart,
it slept and dreamt in pleasure and play,
now it can be broken — but only by you.

 

Skogen sover (The forest sleeps)

Skogen sover
strimman på fästet flämtar matt.
Dagen vakar i juninatt.
Tystnat har nyss hennes muntra skratt,
redan hon sover.

Til hennes sida jag stum mig satt.
Kärleken vakar över sin skatt,
kärleken vakar i juninatt.

(Ernest Thiel)


The forest sleeps
the sky gleams faintly tonight.
The day keeps watch in the June night.
Her cheerful laughter has stopped for today,
she is already asleep.

I sat down quietly by her side,
Love watching over its treasure,
love watching in the June night.

 

TOIVO KUULA (1883 – 1918)

Kesäyö kirkkomaalla (Summer Night in the Churchyard)

Omaa kirkkauttansa kummeksuin
kesäyöhyt maille laskeuupi.
Syviin aatoksiinsa unehtuin
puiset ristit yössä uneksuupi.

Elon onni, lempi, ystävyys
soi tänne kuin kaiku laulun lauhan.
Kaartuu ikihyvä ijäisyys
yli sydämeni suuren rauhan.

Täällä jossain lähelläni lienet,
tunnen ohitse sun kulkeneesi,
sä, ken kerran uneksijan vienet
rauhan kotiin, pyhään kirkkauteesi,
sä sinne uneksijan vienet.

(V. A. Koskenniemi)


Held in wonder by its glory
sinks the sun into the west
Here beneath the wooden crosses
I may also seek my rest.

Life and friendship, love and laughter
Like an echo from afar.
All around God’s peace eternal,
nothing can the silence mar.

Close at hand I sense your presence,
As your footsteps pass me by.
When at last you call the dreamer,
Take him to your home on high.

 

EDVARD GRIEG (1843 – 1907)

Med en Vandlilje (With a Waterlily)

Se, Marie, hvad jeg bringer;
blomsten med de hvide vinger.
På de stille strømme båren
svam den drømmetung i våren.

Vil du den til hjemmet vie,
fæst den på dit bryst, Marie;
bag dens blade da sig dølge
vil en dyp og stille bølge.

Vogt dig, barn, for tjernets strømme.
Farligt, farligt der at drømme!
Nøkken lader som han sover;
liljer leger ovenover.

Barn, din barm er tjernets strømme.
Farligt, farligt der at drømme;
liljer leger ovenover;
nøkken lader som han sover.

(H. J. Ibsen)


Look, Marie, at what I bring,
the flower with the white wings.
Borne by the quiet currents, 
it swam heavy with dreams in the spring.

If you would give it a home,
fasten it to your breast, Marie;
Behind its petals it conceals
a deep, quiet wave.

Beware, child, of the pond’s currents.
A dangerous, dangerous place to dream!  
The water-sprite pretends to sleep;  
the lilies lie above.

Child, your bosom is the pond’s currents.  
A dangerous, dangerous place to dream;  
the lilies lie above;
the water-sprite pretends to sleep.

 

En Svane (A Swan)

Min hvide svane, du stumme, du stille,
hverken slag eller trille
lod sangrøst ane.

Angst beskyttende alfen, som sover,
altid lyttende gled du henover.

Men sidste mødet, da eder og øjne
var lønlige løgne,
ja da, da lød det!

I toners føden, du slutted din bane.
Du sang i døden; du var dog en svane!

(H. J. Ibsen)


My white swan, you silent one, you still one, neither beat nor trill 
suggested a singing voice.

Anxiously guarding the elf who sleeps,
always listening, you glided on.

But at the last tryst, when vows and eyes, proved to be secret lies,
Yes then, then it sounded!

In the tone’s birth, you ran your course.
You sang in death, you were indeed a swan!

 

Ein Traum (A Dream)

Mir träumte einst ein schöner Traum:
mich liebte eine blonde Maid,
es war am grünen Waldesraum,
es war zur warmen Frühlingszeit.

Die Knospe sprang, der Waldbach schwoll,
fern aus dem Dorfe scholl Geläut —
wir waren ganzer Wonne voll,
versunken ganz in Seligkeit.

Und schöner noch, als einst der Traum, begab es sich in Wirklichkeit:
es war am grünen Waldesraum,
es war zur warmen Frühlingszeit.

Der Waldbach schwoll, die Knospe sprang,
Geläut erscholl vom Dorfe her:

Ich hielt dich fest, ich hielt dich lang —
und lasse dich nun nimmermehr!

O frühlingsgrüner Waldesraum,
du lebst in mir durch alle Zeit!
Dort ward die Wirklichkeit zum Traum,
dort ward der Traum zur Wirklichkeit!

(Friedrich Bodenstadt)


Once I dreamed a lovely dream;
I was loved by a maiden fair,
we were in the forest green,
in the warmth of spring.

The buds were bursting, the stream overflowing,
the sounds of the village in the far distance
we were utterly enraptured,
immersed in blissful happiness.

And then it happened in reality,
more beautiful even than the dream:
we were in the forest green,
in the warmth of spring.

The stream overflowing, the buds were bursting,
distant sounds echoing from the village;
I held you close, I held you tight —
and now I’ll never let you go —
no, never, never!

O forest in the green of spring,
you will live in me forever!
It was there that reality became a dream,
it was there my dream became reality.

 

Jillian Bain Christie

Jillian is a Scottish soprano and visual artist, currently based in Norfolk.

Originally a graduate of the Glasgow School of Art, Jillian subsequently studied Music at the University of Aberdeen, graduating in 2012 with a 1st class Honours degree. While in Aberdeen, Jillian was the recipient of a number of awards, in both performance and composition.

Jillian continued her studies at Trinity Laban Conservatoire, London as a TCM and Helen Roll scholar, under the tutelage of Joan Rodgers CBE and Linda Hirst. Jillian completed a Postgraduate Diploma in Vocal Performance in 2013, and a Master of Fine Art in Creative Performance Practice in July 2014, attaining distinctions in both. Jillian continues to study privately with Joan Rodgers.

Jillian is committed to the promotion of contemporary classical music, and regularly gives first performances of music by living composers. She frequently collaborates with internationally renowned composer Paul Mealor LVO, and has premiered many of his compositions, notably performing the soprano solos in his Symphony No.1 ‘Passiontide’ with the University of Aberdeen Chamber Choir and the Orchestra of Scottish Opera, and in Song of the Ocean with Michael Collins and the Philharmonia Orchestra. Other performance highlights include the creation of the title roles in two operas by Joe Stollery, in association with Tête à Tête and SOUND Scotland; soprano soloist in Händel’s Messiah with Aberdeen Choral Society; Stockhausen’s Stimmung at the Queen Elizabeth Hall, Southbank Centre; and soprano soloist at Britten Pears Snape Maltings, with Aldeburgh Music Club and Suffolk Baroque Players. Jillian’s own electroacoustic vocal work An Gleann Sàmhaichte was shortlisted for the 2023 Scottish Landscape Awards, and was premiered at the City Arts Centre, Edinburgh.

Jillian combines her singing with a freelance career as an artist and illustrator. Selected projects include artist residencies in Iceland, JAM on the Marsh Festival, Kent, and the North Wales International Music Festival; production direction for Aberdeen Gilbert and Sullivan Society’s 2019 Mikado; and a solo exhibition at the Barbican Library, London.

www.jillianbainchristie.com

 

Aden Mazur

Aden studied music at the University of Aberdeen, graduating in 2015, and holds a Licentiate from the Royal Schools of Music in Violin Performance with Distinction. He is the current Leader of Aberdeen City Orchestra and plays with many other orchestras and ensembles including the Aberdeen Sinfonietta and the Mahler Players. He was the Leader of the Inverurie Orchestra from 2018 – 2024. Aden is also a founding member of the Aurora quartet and a busy collaborative pianist for exams, festivals, competitions and concerts, and with Enemy Enemy (the North East New Music Ensemble).

Alongside his performing commitments, Aden is extremely passionate about education, working as an upper string instructor for Aberdeenshire Council, St Margaret’s School for Girls and is the Director of the Wee Music School. In 2021, Aden established the Aberdeen City Orchestra’s Youth Ensembles which provides weekly orchestras and bands for almost 100 young musicians. Aden is on the music committee of the North East of Scotland Music School and the board of the Grampian Youth Orchestra.

In 2023 Aden co-founded Music Aberdeen (www.musicaberdeen.com) to help promote the incredible classical, jazz and folk music scene in and around Aberdeen. The website provides a directory of local ensembles and how to get involved, as well as a local concert diary to help you keep track of upcoming events that might interest you.