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Proudly presented as part of the Queensland Art Song Festival.
Chair’s Welcome to ‘The Domestic Sublime’
Welcome to an evening where the rituals of everyday life are transformed into something unexpected, intimate, and deeply human. At Springboard Opera, we believe opera needn’t hide behind a proscenium or be locked into grand tradition. It can breathe in kitchens, echo through living rooms, and — as tonight proves — shimmer among the appliances.
Tonight, composers Katy Abbott and Alys Rayner invite us to find poetry in the smallest details, revealing how music makes the familiar feel new. Our mission is to bring opera closer to our lives, our communities, and its creators. We champion emerging artists, reimagine where and how opera is made, and craft experiences that are fresh, relevant, and welcoming.
Thank you for joining us. Whether you’re a lifelong opera lover or here for your first taste, may you leave with new stories, fresh perspectives, and a tune or two that follows you home.
– Don Jameson - Board Chair
A Word From the Director
This performance is very personal to me. It’s about my mother, my grandmother, my identity as a feminist, and what home means to me. The relationship I have with this immersive concert is not because of any specific element, it is the combination of everyone coming together in pursuit of connection and passion for art song and female composers.
DOMESTIC
“Of or belonging to the home, house, or household; existing, occurring, or produced in the home or within a household; relating to or characteristic of home life, family life, or cohabitation” - Oxford English Dictionary
The idea that domesticity is related to a woman’s role in the household and the expectations attached to behaviours, relationships, and presentation often generates a stereotypical image based on phenomenological (inherited from childhood) experiences and media exposure, in one way or another. Individual experiences and points of view are all too important. That is where tonight’s performance comes in. The audience are encouraged to relate further to their own particularities and inquire into the potential this presentation of domestic sublimity has for developing their point of view.
The Domestic Sublime is a site-specific work that chronologically weaves its way through appliances with movement, interactive song, and at its core the sensorial possibilities of otherwise simple tasks. It has been an absolute pleasure not only growing in my style and experience as a director and performer, but working with other exceptional emerging professionals and established artists. Especially those involved with Springboard Opera and the Queensland Art Song Festival. I am both humbled and incredibly excited to bring this vision to Brisbane audiences.
My hope is that everyone takes something away from this performance. Whether it be a bouquet of flowers, a new recipe, a desire to parachute bed sheets, or even creating moments to breathe deeply. Questions are also encouraged. They can lead to more questions, curiosity, imagination, and discovery. How exciting!
– Madeleine Stephens
| The Program
The Orange Tree (Alys Rayner)
Monica Ruggiero - Mezzo Soprano
Riverbend Ensemble
Sechs Lieder, aus der Jucunde (Clara Schumann op. 23)
Connor Willmore - Tenor
Alison Paris - Soprano
Mark Connors - Piano
La Bonne Cuisine (Leonard Bernstein)
Monica Ruggiero - Mezzo Soprano
Riverbend Ensemble
INTERVAL
The Domestic Sublime (Katy Abbott, arr. Alys Rayner)
Connor Willmore - Tenor
Annika Hinrichs - Soprano
Riverbend Ensemble
-
Annika Hinrichs
Soprano
-
Madeleine Stephens
Director
-
Connor Wilmore
Tenor
-
Monica Ruggiero
Mezzo Soprano
-
Alison Paris
Soprano
-
Mark Connors
Pianist
A Special Thanks To
Alexandra Flood, Queensland Art Song Festival
Bradley Wyeth, Qld Manager, Winning Appliances
Gary Thorpe, General Manager, 4MBS
Comm. Filippo D'arro, Managing Director, Italiquore Wines Australia
Katy Abbott, Composer
Alys Rayner, Composer and Arranger
Councillor Vicki Howard, Central Ward, Brisbane City Council
Backstage Management and Costumes - Leslie Martin
Front of House - Clarissa Byrne and Rachael McFarlane
Followspot - Jayden
Provision of Keyboards - Leslie Martin, Kevin Gomez, Beth McBride
Filming and Social Media - Cameron Bryer, Chris Underwood, Nicholas Davison
And to our donors (through Australian Cultural Fund):
Comm. Filippo D'arro, Adele Tarnawski, David Taylor, Calista Verschaeren, Cameron Bryer, Leslie Martin, Madeleine Short
The Domestic Sublime was supported through the Australian Cultural Fund.
What your ticket supports
Each ticket purchased at full price, provides approximately 1 hour of rehearsal time for a singer with an accompanist. Springboard Opera is a not for profit organisation that creates a platform for emerging Brisbane singers, directors, conductors, designers and more, to launch their careers. Your support through the purchase of your ticket is much appreciated.
The Orange Tree by John Shaw Nielsen
The young girl stood beside me.
I saw not what her young eyes could see:
A light, she said, not of the sky
Lives somewhere in the Orange Tree.
Is it, I said, of east or west? The heartbeat of a luminous boy
Who with his faltering flute confessed Only the edges of his joy?
Was he, I said, borne to the blue In a mad escape of Spring
Ere he could make a fond adieu To his love in the blossoming?
Listen! The young girl said.
There calls no voice, no music beats on me;
But it is almost sound: It falls this evening in the Orange Tree.
Does he, I said, so fear the spring
Ere the white sap too far can climb
See in the full full gold evening All happenings of the olden time.
Is he so goaded by the green? Does the compulsion of the dew
Make him unknowable but keen Asking the beauty of the blue?
Listen! The young girl said. For all your hapless talk, you fail to see
There is a light, a step, a call, This evening on the Orange Tree.
Is it, I said, a waste of love Imperishably old in pain,
Moving as an affrighted dove Under the sunlight and the rain?
Is it a flutering heart that gave too willingly and was reviled?
Is it the stammering at a grave, the last word of a little child?
Silence, the young girl said,
Oh why, why will you talk to weary me?
Plague me no longer now, for I am listening,
like the Orange Tree.
Tonight’s Text
Sechs Lieder aus der Jucunde, Text by Hermann Rollet
Was weinst du, Blümlein
Was weinst du, Blümlein,
Im Morgenschein?
Das Blümlein lachte --:
Was fällt dir ein!
Ich bin ja fröhlich,
Ich weine nicht, --
Die Freudenthräne
Durch's Aug' mir bricht! --
Du Morgenhimmel!
Bist blutig roth,
Als läg' deine Sonne
Im Meere todt?
Da lacht der Himmel
Und ruft mich an:
Ich streue ja Rosen
Auf ihre Bahn! --
Und strahlend flammte
Die Sonne hervor,
Die Blumen blühten
Freudig empor.
Des Baches Wellen
Jauchzten auf,
Und die Sonne lachte Flammend drauf!
Why weep, little blossom
Why weep, dear blossom,
in morning sun?
The blossom giggled:
"Now what a thought!
I am but joyful,
I do not weep-
and joyful tears
in my eyes well up."
You morning heavens,
are red as blood,
as if your sun
in ocean were lying dead.
The laughing heavens
called out to me:
"I sprinkle but roses
upon its path!"
With radiant flaming
the sun shone forth,
the flowers blossomed cheerfully up.
The brooklets gurgled
joyful on,
and the sun thus laughed
its warm-hearted laugh.
An einem lichten Morgen
An einem lichten Morgen,
Da klingt es hell im Thal:
Wach' auf, du liebe Blume,
Ich bin der Sonnenstral!
Erschließe mit Vertrauen
Dein Blütenkämmerlein
Und laß die heiße Liebe
Ins Heiligtum hinein.
Ich will ja nichts verlangen
Als liegen dir im Schoos,
Und deine Blüte küssen --
Eh sie verwelkt im Moos.
Ich will ja nichts begehren,
Als ruhn an deiner Brust,
Und dich dafür verklären
Mit sonnenheller Lust!
On morning bright and shining
On morning bright and shining, there rings clear through the vale, "Wake up, beloved flower,
I am the ray of sun!
"Now open confidently
your little blossom heart
and let my burning love-beams into your holy shrine.
"I nothing more require
than to lie upon your chest
and on your bloom lay kisses
'till in the moss you droop.
"I nothing more desire
than to sleep up on your breast and thus I will transform you
with sunshine's shining joy."
Geheimes Flüstern hier und dort
Geheimes Flüstern hier und dort,
Verborgnes Quellenrauschen --
O Wald, o Wald, geweihter Ort,
Laß mich des Lebens reinstes Wort,
in Zweig und Blatt belauschen!
Und schreit' ich in den Wald hinaus,
Da grüßen mich die Bäume.
Du liebes, freies Gotteshaus,
Du schließest mich mit Sturmgebraus
In deine kühlen Räume!
Was leise mich umschwebt, umklingt,
Ich will es treu bewahren,
Und was mir tief zum Herzen dringt,
Will ich, vom Geist der Lieb' beschwingt,
In Liedern offenbaren!
Secret whispers here and there
Soft, secret whispers here and there,
and springs with hidden murmurs,
o wood, o wood, o sacred spot,
o let me hear life's purest word
in ev'ry twig and leaflet!
And striding out into the wood,
I'm greeted by the saplings,
the dear and open house of God,
Embracing me with roaring storm
In your refreshing spaces!
What ever soars and sings 'round me,
I will preserve it truly,
what ever pierces deep my heart,
I will, by Love's own spirit borne,
by singing songs reveal it.
Auf einem grünen Hügel
Auf einem grünen Hügel
Da steht ein Röslein hell,
Und wenn ich roth, roth Röslein seh' --
So roth wie lauter Liebe --
Möcht' weinen ich zur Stell'!
Auf einem grünen Hügel
Da stehn zwei Blümlein blau,
Und wenn ich blau, blau Blümlein seh' --
So blau, wie blaue Äuglein,
Durch Thränen ich sie schau'!
Auf einem grünen Hügel
Da singt ein Vögelein;
Mir ist's, als säng's: Wer niemals Leid --
Recht großes Leid erfahren,
Wird nie recht glücklich sein!
Upon a green, green hillock
Upon a green, green hillock,
there grows a lovely rose,
and when a red, red rose I see,
as red as purest love is,
I'd weep upon the spot!
Upon a green, green hillock,
there grow two flowers blue,
and when two blue, blue flow'rs I see,
as blue as small blue eyes are,
I see them through my tears!
Upon a green, green hillock,
there sings a little bird,
I think it sings: "Who never grieves
or deepest sorrow suffers,
will never happy be."
Das ist ein Tag, der klingen mag
Das ist ein Tag, der klingen mag -- Die Wachtel schlägt im Korn,
Die Lerche jauchzt mit Jubelschlag
Wohl überm hellen grünen Hag,
Der Jäger bläst in's Horn.
Frau Nachtigall ruft süßen Schall, Durch's Laub ein Flüstern zieht,
Das Echo tönt im Widerhall,
Es klingt und singt allüberall --:
Das ist ein Frühlingslied!
This is a day for singing songs
This is a day for singing songs -
the quail in the grainfield trills,
the lark rejoicing jubilates
all over verdant bright green hedge,
the hunter blows his horn.
Dame Nightingale calls sweetest sounds
through leaves a whisper goes,
the echo answers in return,
it rings and sings all ev'rywhere
this is a song of spring.
O Lust, o Lust
O Lust, o Lust, vom Berg ein Lied In's Land hinab zu singen!
Der kleinste Ton hinunter zieht, So wie auf Riesenschwingen!
Der stillste Hauch aus lauter Brust,
In Leid und Lust entrungen,
Er wird zum Klange, unbewußt Für alle Welt gesungen.
Es schwingt sich erd- und himmelwärts
Der Seele klingend Sehnen,
Und fällt der ganzen Welt an's Herz --
Ob freudig, ob in Thränen.
Was still sonst nur die Brust durchzieht,
Fliegt aus auf lauten Schwingen,
O Lust, o Lust, vom Berg ein Lied
In's Land hinab zu singen!
O joy, o joy
O joy, o joy, from mountain top through all the land I'm singing!
The smallest tone dives ever down, like giant eagles winging!
The softest breath from singing breast,
when born in joy and grieving,
is turned to song and unbeknownst
to all the world is sung forth.
It wings on earth- and heavenward
this ringing spirit pining
and moves the whole world at its heart -
to laughter or to crying.
What only in the heart is known,
flies out on wings a-ringing
O joy, o joy, from mountain top
through all the land I'm singing!
La Bonne Cuisine, text from Emile Dupont’s Cookbook
Plum Pudding
Now first you take 11 pounds of juicy Concord grapes combined with equal parts of extra fine Tokays.
Be sure they are juicy.
And then you take two cups or so of bread crumbs into which you melt a pound or so of butter, fat or lard:
(Use Spry or use Crisco.)
11 cups of sugar (either brown or white or powdered) a glass of milk and half a glass of Bacardi or brandy;
3 eggs, and a lemon!
Now mustard, powdered cinnamon, and ginger all together
making half a teaspoonful of condiment which you combine with half a teaspoonful of table salt.
Queues de Boeuf (Ox-Tails)
Are you too proud to serve your friends an oxtail stew?
You’re wrong!
For if you have enough of them
You’ll find you can make a fine ragout.
Remove the tails which you have used to make the stew
and then you can bread them, and grill them, and prepare them with a sauce.
You’ll find them delicious and different and so tempting.
Are you too proud to serve your friends an oxtail stew?
Tavouk Gueunksis
Tavouk gueunksis, so Oriental!
Put a chicken to boil, young and tender and sweet;
then in the Arab manner you slice it up into pieces.
Then boil flour and water, and add to it the Chicken:
then prepare it as above, in the manner we described
for Mahallebi.
Tavouk gueunksis, a Turkish heaven!
Rabbit at Top Speed
When you have a sudden guest, or you’re in an awful hurry, may I say, here’s a way to make a rabbit stew in no time.
Take apart the rabbit in the ordinary way you do.
Put it in a pot or in a casserole, or a bowl with all its blood and with its liver mashed.
Take half a pound of breast of pork, finely cut (as fine as possible)
add little onions with some pepper and salt (say 25 or so); a bottle and a half of rich claret.
Boil it up, don’t waste a minute, on the very hottest fire.
When boiled a quarter of an hour or more the sauce should now be half of what it was before.
Then you carefully apply a flame, as they do in the best, most expensive cafes.
After the flame is out, just add the sauce to half a pound of butter, with flour, and mix them together....... and serve.
The Domestic Sublime, Text by Chris Wallace-Crabbe
The Surface of Things
Pleasantly rolling deodorant into an oxter
He thought of the shave ahead,
Whether to start in the upper left-hand corner
Or the slant of his jaw instead.
From the loose aggregate of these choices
A common life is made,
Fate no more than a thicket of brand-names
And the moment when you delayed.
Indoor Yachting
Has any mere scribbler
ever spotted or caught
that fine dramatic gesture
by which a homebody
standing down at the bed-end
flourishes a wide clean sheet and
blows it out like a spinnaker
so that the far end
will flutter down in place
where a pillow will be,
once again
getting it right?
Saucer
Who first spotted the lack
not that is the slip
in between the cup and lip
but down under a hot mug
or cup?
Yet if it comes to that
a plate would merely be over the top
something then to stop the drips
or keep the pea soup off your lap
complicate the washing up
stop a simple splash
or slop
and sit here for the water’s tip
sad without a cup
Coathangers Galore
Clubbable and promiscuous,
They hang around
Getting under your feet
While always intending to be helpful;
Wiry and would-be athletic
They just keep falling into a tangle
Putting a foot
In somebody else’s mouth.
Garlic
Adhesive, papery
the wan delicate skin
sticks for just a smidgen
too long, until
a naked clove
comes out successfully
shining
virginal as the dawn
yet leaving
its ripe sex on your fingers
for quite some time
At the Clothesline
What I’d thought a fallen shirt
Under the line, flat on the grass
Was nothing but my shadow there, Hinting that all things pass:
That many we loved or used to know
Are dragged already out of sight,
Vanished fast, though stepping slow,
Folded into remorseless night.
My dark trace now has quit the lawn.
Everything slips away too soon,
Yet something leaves its mark here like
A rainbow ring around the moon.
