Catherine Ang27 April 2015

Nuit Dtoiles

Music by Claude DebussyPoem by Thodore de BanvilleSoprano: Vronique GensPianist: Roger Vignoles2000Spotify

I thoroughly enjoyed listened to Vronique Genss rendition of Nuit Dtoiles. I found her voice and diction to be very clear throughout. She really only modified one vowel on haleine, she sang more of a [] instead of []. I also have to modify that vowel, but I was surprised that she chose the [], because I move it towards the [a]. I found that the [a] sounded like a huge departure and felt a little out of place. She also slightly modified the rve [] to a [a] sound. The spots that I had trouble with her vowels were on the articles like tes or les. Sometimes they sounded more like [e] rather than []. On [e] words like brise et, mlancolie, or clore, I couldnt distinguish it from her [] sounds. Her [] sounds were great though! Her consonants were clear throughout, and she especially enjoyed trilling her rs for effect. Sometimes she stopped the flow of the words with her consonants, however, which felt strange for French. She put a glottal between rve and aux once, and I just felt like she sounded sort of choppy in c'est ton haleine and vient clore au fond de mon coeur. She also scooped into many of her notes, which I thought was interesting. It added to the drama when she approached the high note on rve through scooping. I felt like she could have followed the dynamics more she seemed to stay at mezzo forte for almost all of the song, until the last chorus, which I could tell she made an effort to sing pianissimo.

Nuit d'toiles, sous tes voiles,sous ta brise et tes parfums,Triste lyre qui soupire,je rve aux amours dfunts.

La sereine mlancolie vient cloreau fond de mon coeur,Et j'entends l'me de ma mieTressaillir dans le bois rveur.

Dans les ombres de la feuille,Quand tout bas je soupire seul,Tu reviens, pauvre me veille,Toute blanche dans ton linceuil.

Je revois notre fontaine tes regards bleus comme les cieux;Cettes rose, c'est ton haleine,Et ces toiles sont tes yeux.

Night of stars, beneath your veils,Beneath your breezes and your scents,A sad lyre that sighs,I dream of dead loves.

The serene melancholy comes burstingIn the depth of my heart,And I hear the soul of my loveTremble in the dreaming woods.

In the leafy shadows,When I sigh very quietly,You return, poor awakened soul,All white in your shroud.

I see again at our fountainYour gaze, blue as the sky;This rose, it is your breath,And these stars are your eyes.