Oswald von Wolkenstein - Barbican

Eric Larrayadieu
Monday 19 April 2010 7.30pm
Barbican Hall
Oswald von Wolkenstein
Collection of Lute Songs
Andreas Scholl countertenor
Shield of Harmony
Kathleen Dineen soprano/harp
Crawford Young lute
Margit Übellacker dulcimelos
Marc Lewon viola d’arco/quinterne
Bart Vanlaere narrator
Jos Groenier director
Uri Rapaport lighting designer
Joost Gulien video creator
Erik-Jan Berendsen lighting operator
There is no interval in this performance, which lasts
approximately 75 minutes. It is suggested that applause be
reserved for the end of the concert.

this evening’s programme
Oswald von Wolkenstein
(c1376–1445)
Herz, müt, leib, sel
Es fügt sich, I–III
Pierre des Molins (fl 1190–c1220)
Amis tous dous
Oswald von Wolkenstein
Grasselick lif
Kom, liebster man
Heinrich von Laufenberg
(c1390–1460)
Bis grüsst, maget reine
Anonymous
Parlamento (London, British Library, Add. 29978)
Oswald von Wolkenstein
Es fügt sich, IV
Ach, senliches leiden
Der mai mit lieber zal
Der oben swebt
2
Anonymous
Mit ganzem willen wünsch ich dir (Lochamer
Liederbuch)
Oswald von Wolkenstein
Durch Barbarei, Arabia
Nu rue mit sorgen
Es fügt sich, VII
Wes mich mein bül
THANKS TO:
Library of Utrecht University
Marco van Egmond
Joost van Gemert
Mirjam Pater
Clara Strijbosch
Tonight’s concert is part of a co-production between the Concertgebouw de
Doelen, Rotterdam, the Cologne Philharmonie, the Barbican Centre, London,
and the Philharmonic Hall in Liverpool.
Translation of narrated text: Adrian Brine

Oswald von Wolkenstein
The last great medieval romantic
It’s April, the very month in which ‘longen folk to goon on
pilgrimages, And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes To
ferne halwes, couthe in sondry londes’. The season, in other
words, for rising sap and itchy feet. So, what better time to
celebrate a young man who, at the tender age of 10, and
with nothing in his pocket but three cents and a piece of
bread, set off to wander in the wide world. ‘To Prussia,
Lithuania, Tartary, Turkey over the sea, to France, Lombardy,
Spain’ and beyond, to be precise, ‘ searching for love’, and
eventually working in the service of King Rupert, Duke
Friedrich IV of Austria, and King Sigismund of Hungary.
Oswald von Wolkenstein, one-eyed, and looking for all the
world like a latter-day Wotan, has been described by one
commentator as ‘an articulate, earthy, pious, lusty,
sometimes violent knight-entertainer’. For, everywhere he
went, Oswald kept a keen ear open to the local musicmaking,
thieving melodies like a magpie, and following the
conventions of late-Gothic courtly love. He moaned,
groaned and celebrated his lot as one of the last knightly
poet-musicians of South Germany. The second song we’ll
hear this evening, ‘Es fügt sich’ (‘It happened’), tells of
Oswald’s travels, and is unashamedly autobiographical.
It’s so long – all of 12 minutes – that Andreas Scholl and
his musicians plan to use it as a sort of rondo-refrain – a
programme note
thread that winds its way through the evening. It’ll function
as a type of leitmotif, tipped off by the plucking of a harp,
and with its three stanzas cumulatively telling the tale of
Oswald’s wanderings.
Oswald was born around 1376, at a time of widespread
upheaval, and less than 30 years after the devastations of
the Black Death. As Oswald came into the world, in the
South Tyrolean alpine town of Kiens, Wycliffe’s translation
of the Bible into English appeared, and Piers Plowman
had just been written by William Langland. And, just as the
10-year-old boy set off on his travels as a diminutive squire
of a knight-errant, Chaucer was completing his Canterbury
Tales. In 1408, Oswald prepared for a pilgrimage of his
own to the Holy Land, and grew the long beard that
marked out the pilgrims. It is thought that his ditty ‘Der oben
swebt’ (‘He is the one who hovers above’), hymning Divine
omnipresence and omniscience, and ending with a chantlike
prayer to the Virgin Mary, could date from this period.
Before this outburst of sacred ardour, Oswald had written
plenty of rather more profane poems for his beloved Anna
Hausmann, a married woman whose heart he continued
to hymn even after his marriage in 1417 to Margarete von
Schwangau – by whom he had no fewer than seven children.
The sweet dawn dialogue song, ‘Nu rue mit sorgen’ (‘Now
3

programme note
rest from your cares’), one of Oswald’s most beautiful
poems, is a Romeo and Juliet vignette in which the sad
syllables of the woman seem to be trying to slow the pace of
her lover’s impending departure.
Two years before Oswald’s marriage, when Henry V was
galloping once more unto the breach at Agincourt, our poet
found himself in the entourage of Friedrich IV, Duke of
Austria, at the Council of Konstanz. These councils were long,
drawn-out affairs: some delegates would arrive in March,
others turn up in mid-May, so volatile were travelling
conditions and the political climate of the time. Andreas
Scholl likes to imagine that ‘at night, there would be drinking,
and musicians and poets like Oswald would present their
new compositions, commenting on politics and life. His
friends must have loved to hear of his exploits and
escapades, his fantasies and his fights.’ While kings and
princes, diplomats and dukes lingered long, these were
creative times for Oswald von Wolkenstein.
Soon after Konstanz, Oswald found himself sent as a
diplomat to the service of Sigismund, King of Hungary. He
didn’t much like it, on the evidence of his complaints and
curses in the stomping ‘Wes mich mein bül’ (‘Whatever gifts’).
4
Absence from his lady, noisy children and even bed-bugs
were added to the family disputes, peasant uprisings and
dislocation of principalities and powers that were the
constant companions of Oswald’s life. No wonder that he
fled, in his few private moments, to poetic refuge, and to the
comforts and containment of chivalric literary convention.
For Oswald used music primarily to communicate his poetry.
He would borrow from sources such as the graceful melodies
and suave harmonies of the ballate and madrigals of the
highly fashionable Francesco Landini (c1325–97), from
French trouvère songs, and from the more raw and robust
melodies of his German predecessors. As Scholl says, ‘He
was no mere troubadour: he performed for his equals, for
nobles; and wherever he went, he hooked up with courtly
musicians. He brought back their melodies, and often sold
them as his own – after all, there was no great risk of being
exposed in the Tyrol, and ordinary people really didn’t travel
very far in those days.’
No more than an amateur polyphonist, Oswald delighted in
borrowing one melody with which to offset another. His
‘contrafacting’ can be heard in songs such as ‘Ach, senliches
leiden’ (‘Alas, heartfelt pain’) and ‘Kom, liebster man!’

(‘Come, dearest man’). Scholl, trained as an electro-acoustic
musician in his student days, once amused himself by making
a multi-track setting of one of Oswald’s ditties: as pop songs,
some of them work rather well. Like today’s itinerant
crooners, Oswald had a high opinion of his own worth – so
much so that, in the peaceful, if short-lived, lull brought
about by the Alliance of Bingen in 1424, he commissioned
the Kloster Neustift, near Brixen (with whose Augustinian
monks he had stayed in 1410), to create a sumptuous
parchment of his songs. The monastery was at that time a
popular resting-place for pilgrims, and a significant force in
the cultural and intellectual life of Europe. Even today, it’s a
lively centre for theological courses and seminars; its Gothic
cloister, basilica and exquisite white and gold library may be
visited, and the monks’ renowned Sylvanerschnaps and
herb-tea tasted and purchased.
After King Sigismund (to whom Oswald had been unfailingly
loyal) was crowned Holy Roman Emperor in 1433, Oswald’s
life quietened down somewhat. In August 1445, when he was
visiting the spa town of Meran (now Merano, surrounded by
mountains, and cherished for its mild climate by none other
than Franz Kafka and Ezra Pound), Oswald died of
heatstroke. He was buried near the font at his beloved
programme note
Kloster Neustift: his grave was rediscovered as recently as
1973.
Oswald von Wolkenstein, poised in time between the art of
the knightly Minnesangers and the petit-bourgeois craft of
the Meistersingers, remained true to the vanishing traditions
of medieval romanticism in his life and in his art. The
American musicologist Paul Henry Lang has saluted him as
‘the last great representative of the medieval lyric art of his
class’. And Andreas Scholl and his musicians are keen to
kindle our imaginations to inhabit his world. ‘I want this
concert to be a time-machine’, says Scholl, ‘to enable us to
have a glimpse of a brutally honest figure – an artist not
ashamed to retain many embarrassing facts about himself –
unlike our own celebrities! He wanted – and we want – to
convey, above all, his honesty. This man speaks to me
through his music. And I want to use modern technology as a
means of expression to illuminate his character still further. It
might be controversial – but then he was too! And I’d like the
audience to examine themselves, too, and think about ways
like this in which we can perhaps ensure that our own
conventional rituals of concert-giving and music-making will
not alienate future generations …’
Programme note © Hilary Finch
5

text
Oswald von Wolkenstein
Herz, müt, leib, sel
Herz, müt, leib, sel und was ich han,
Das freut ain lieplich angesicht,
Dem sol ich wesen undertan,
Zu dienen stetiklich gericht.
Frau, du solt unvergessen sein
In meinem herzen ewikleich,
Und wer das ouch der wille dein,
So ward nie kaiser mein geleich.
Ich wolt, du wesst an als gever
Mein freuntschaft halb, die ich dir trag;
Zwar du erfürst vil lieber mer
Von dir zu mir an alle frag.
Wie serr ich bin, so nahet mir
Inbrünstiklich dein stolzer leib,
Senlich darnach stet mein begier;
Du freust mich zwar für alle weib.
Es fügt sich
I
Es fügt sich, do ich was von zehen jaren alt,
Ich wolt besehen, wie die werlt wer gestalt.
Mit ellend, armuet mangen winkel, haiss und kalt,
Hab ich gebaut bei cristen, Kriechen, haiden.
Drei pfenning in dem peutel und ain stücklin brot,
Das was von haim mein zerung, do ich loff in not.
Von fremden freunden so hab ich manchen tropfen rot
Gelassen seider, das ich wand verschaiden.
Ich loff ze füss mit swerer büss, bis das mir starb
Mein vatter, zwar wol vierzen jar nie ross erwarb,
Wann aines roupt, stal ich halbs zu mal mit valber varb,
Und des geleich schied ich da von mit laide.
Zwar renner, koch so was ich doch und marstaller,
Auch an dem rüder zoch ich zu mir, das was swer,
6
Heart, mind, body, soul
Heart, mind, body, soul and whatever I have,
are all infused with joy by a pretty face,
to whom I will be dedicated,
constantly ready to do service.
Lady, you will be in my heart
forever, indelibly,
and if you were to reciprocate the sentiment,
an emperor was never as happy as I.
I wished you would be aware, without any prejudice,
of the affection that I feel for you, at least half of it.
Then you would learn many pleasant things
about you and me, without any doubt.
How far away I might be, your wonderful body
comes to me, intoxicating me.
Full of longing I desire your body,
you make me happier than all other women.
It happened
It happened, when I was 10 years old,
that I wanted to see what the world was.
I have been in warm and cold places, in misery and poverty,
with Christians, Greek-Orthodox and heathens.
Then, I had three cents in my pocket and a piece of bread
from home to keep me alive, when I headed out into the
big world.
Because of certain ‘friends’ I have shed so many drops
of blood that I thought I must die.
I travelled by foot, heavily burdened, until the day my
father died.
I was 14 years old and still had no horse,
except for one I stole, and a stolen mule, light-coloured,
but both were unfortunately stolen from me.
I was messenger runner, cook and groom,
also an oarsman – that was hard work –

In Kandia und anderswa, ouch wider har,
Vil mancher kittel was mein bestes klaide.
II
Gen Preussen, Littuan, Tartarei, Türkei, über mer,
Gen Frankreich, Lampart, Ispanien, mit zwaien künges her
Traib mich die minn auf meines aigen geldes wer:
Ruprecht, Sigmund, baid mit des adlers streiffen.
Franzoisch, mörisch, katlonisch und kastilian,
Teutsch, latein, windisch, lampertisch, reuschisch und roman,
Die zehen sprach hab ich gebraucht, wenn mir zerran;
Auch kund ich fidlen, trummen, paucken, pfeiffen.
Ich hab umbfarn insel und arn, gar manig land,
Auff scheffen gros, der ich genos von sturmes band,
Des hoch und nider meres gelider vast berant;
Die swarze see lert mich ain vas begreiffen,
Do mir zerbrach mit ungemach mein wargatin,
Ain koufman was ich, doch genas ich und kam hin,
Ich und ain Reuss; in dem gestreuss houbgüt, gewin,
Das sücht den grund und swam ich zu dem reiffen.
III
Ain künigin von Arragon, was schön und zart,
Da für ich kniet, zu willen raicht ich ir den bart,
Mit hendlin weiss bant si darein ain ringlin zart
Lieplich und sprach: ‘non maiplus dis ligaides’.
Von iren handen ward ich in die oren mein
Gestochen durch mit ainem messin nädelein,
Nach ir gewonheit sloss si mir zwen ring dorein,
Die trüg ich lang, und nennt man si raicades.
Ich sücht ze stund künig Sigmund, wo ich in vand,
Den mund er spreutzt und macht ain kreutz, do er mich kant,
Der rüfft mir schier: ‘du zaigest mir hie disen tant’,
Freuntlich mich fragt: ‘tün dir die ring nicht laides?’
Weib und ouch man mich schauten an mit lachen so;
Neun personier küngklicher zier, die waren do
Ze Pärpian, ir babst von Lun, genant Petro,
Der Römisch künig der zehent und die von Praides.
near Crete and elsewhere, and later back again.
many different types of coats were my ‘finery’.
text
To Prussia, Lithuania, Tartary, Turkey over the sea,
to France, Lombardy, Spain, searching for love,
at my own expense, marching with the forces of two kings,
Ruprecht and Sigismund, under the herald of the eagle.
French, Moorish, Catalan, Castilian, German, Latin,
Slovenian, Italian, Russian, Romansch, these 10 languages
I used whenever I had to.
Plus, I could play fiddle, trumpet, drum and pipe.
I sailed past islands and peninsulas and many countries
on big ships, which guarded me from the dangers of storms.
I sailed the high and low seas.
The Black Sea taught me a few things
when my ship sank in my bad fortune.
I was a merchant then, and survived, me and a Russian.
I swam to shore in the raging sea
while our goods and profits sank to the bottom.
Before the Queen of Aragon – so beautiful and tender –
I knelt down and raised my face to her,
with white hands she hung a precious ring
on my beard saying, Never remove this!
She herself pierced my ears with a small brass needle,
and affixed two earrings,
according to Aragonese custom
called raicades, which I wore for a long time.
Following this I met King Sigismund, whom I found staring
with open mouth, crossing himself when he recognised me,
and immediately called, What have you got?
then asked in a friendly way,
Doesn’t it hurt to wear those rings?
Both women and men looked at me, laughing,
including nine royal persons from Perpignan,
their Pope Pedro de Luna, the Roman king and Lady
of Prades.
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text
Grasselick lif
I
Grasselick lif, war hef ick dick verloren
All dise lange, sütten summertit?
Dat gi mi komt tu vorn,
So left min hert in grot jo lit.
II
Geilicken fro, all telich sunder truren
Tüt jo frowen lan einig minen lif!
Dat gschol ick nit verluren,
Mit willen gschin dein einig wif.
III
Freuntlicker gschat, dat slot müt gschin verbunden
Und so keiserlick wol verrigelt sir.
Erst hef ick freude funden,
Und welt min hert kain andern mier.
Kom, liebster man!
I
‘Kom, liebster man!
Meins leibs ich dir wol gan
An abelan.
Kom, traut gesell,
Glücklich fleuch ungevell!
Kom, höchster schatz, zu tratz
Der falschen zungen latz!
Kom schier, meins herzen laid vertreib,
Und tröst mich vil armes weib!
Dein mänlich leib reicht sinn und müt
An mir für aller welde güt.’
II
Dein wort, gepär
Ringt all mein swer,
Frau, lieber mer,
Seid mein begerd
Ain stolz weib, junck, hoch und werd,
Die mir das herz an smerz
Verjüngt mit liebem scherz
8
You horrible angel
‘You horrible angel, where did you hide so often
this whole long beautiful summer?’
‘That I have found you
causes great joy in my heart.’
‘Playfully, happily, free of all sadness,
let me be the only one to give you joy!’
‘I don’t say otherwise,
I only want to be your woman.’
‘Dear treasure, let the lock be closed
and bolted as tight as ever.’
‘Now I know the joy,
my heart never wants another.’
Come, dearest man
Come, dearest man,
I gladly give myself to you
forever,
come dearest companion,
leave misfortune behind,
come dearest treasure,
ignore the mouths of gossips,
come quickly, drive out the sadness from my heart
and console poor me!
Your manliness revives my spirit and thoughts,
more than anything else in the world.
Your words and gestures
alleviate all my cares,
woman, and even better,
a proud lady,
young, noble and honorable,
wants me, who rejuvenates my heart,
eliminating pain,

Gar wunniklichen manigvalt.
Ir minniklich schön gestalt
Macht mich nicht alt, und bin ergetzt,
Von klaren öglin mich benetzt.
III
‘Schaiden mich nöt,
Dein schaiden mich ertöt,
Mein öglin röt,
Und bin verzuckt,
Der sinnen blösslich entruckt.
Mein weiplich zucht, die frucht
Fleusst senlich ir genucht.
Ob du mir kurzlich nicht enschreibst
Und selb lang von mir beleibst,
Wie du das treibst,
So fürcht ich ser,
Oder ich gesech dich nimmer mer.’
Heinrich von Laufenberg
Bis grüsst, maget reine
Bis grüsst, maget reine,
Küngin bist alleine,
Aller welt gemeine,
Erbermd hat sie nicht kleine,
Die ich nu meine;
Leben kan sie bringen,
Süsskeit us ir dringen,
Der ich hie wil singen,
Und hoffnung unsern dingen,
Bis grüsst, hilf uns gelingen.
Zu dir schrient wir mit begir,
Ellend nu hilf uns schir,
Sun Even uns nicht verlir.
Zu dir süfzent wir, nicht enbir,
Weinend und ouch greinend;
In disz trehental schouw uberal,
Und an yal wend gebresten alle mal.
with love talk in wonderful fashion.
Her elegant, lovely form
makes me young, and refreshes me
with clear sweet eyes.
Parting is painful,
your leaving kills me,
making my eyes red,
I am upset,
stripped of my senses.
My feminine way, the fruit of it all,
pales because of this longing.
If you do not write to me soon,
and stay away,
as you are doing,
then I greatly fear
that I will never see you again.
Hail, pure Virgin
Hail pure Virgin,
you alone are the Queen
of the whole world,
no little compassion has she,
upon her I concentrate my thoughts,
she can give life,
sweetness oozes from her
which I want to sing of here,
as well as hope for our affairs
welcome, help us to thrive.
We fervently raise our voice to you,
in supplication, be with us in times of need,
do not forsake us children of Eve.
We sigh to you, – be with us –
weeping and also whimpering
in this Valley of Tears, gaze all around
and – without boundaries – banish sorrow fully.
text
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text
Eya! darumb unser fursprechin kumb,
Versprich uns umb und umb;
Die din diener wellent sin,
Erbermd teil mit in,
Zartes schoenes megedin;
Und din augen vin
Dahin zu uns har
Ker und nim war diser kristenlichen schar.
Und Jesum alzit benedictum,
Frucht gnucht dins libes zucht,
Gib ouch ze zuflucht uns allen armen.
Nach disem ellend ruch dich erbarmen,
Zeig uns bei dir barmen.
O megdliche kron gib uns dich ze lon
O Salomons tron, wol gebuwen schon,
O selden wunn, dich bkleit der sunn,
O süsser brunn Maria!
Oswald von Wolkenstein
Es fügt sich
IV
Mein tummes leben wolt ich verkeren, das ist war,
Und ward ein halber beghart wol zwai ganze jar;
Mit andacht was der anfangk sicherlichen zwar,
Hett mir die minn das ende nicht erstöret.
Die weil ich rait und süchet ritterliche spil
Und dient zu willen ainer frauen, des ich hil,
Die wolt mein nie genaden ainer nussen vil,
Bis das ain kutten meinen leib bedoret.
Vil manig ding mir do gar ring zu handen ging,
Do mich die kappen mit dem lappen umbefing.
Zwar vor und leit mir nie kain meit so wol verhing,
Die mein wort freuntlich gen ir gehöret.
Mit kurzer schnür die andacht für zum gibel aus,
Do ich die kutt von mir do schutt in nebel rauss,
Seid hat mein leib mit leid vortreib vil mangen strauss
Gelitten, und ist halb mein freud erfröret.
10
Just so! thus come, our protectress,
defend us everywhere,
your servants we would like
to be, distribute your mercy to these,
tender beautiful maiden
and turn your bright gaze
upon us,
and accept this Christian flock.
And give Jesus, perpetual blessing,
fruit of abundance, child of your flesh,
to us weaklings as refuge.
After this misery have pity,
show us your compassion.
O crown of virginity, give us yourself as reward,
O throne of Solomon, so beautifully made,
O, O bliss of happiness, that surrounds you the sun,
O sweet fountain of Mary.
It happened
I wanted to turn over a new leaf, that’s true,
and I was half a beggar for two full years;
at the beginning pious to be sure,
at the end foiled in my piety by love.
While I rode and sought knightly sport,
and served a lady, without further comment,
she granted me not a nut’s worth of favour!
until a monk’s habit bedeckt my body.
Many things then came easily,
when I wore the monk’s hood,
in truth, never before or after were girls so friendly,
as they listened to my chatter.
My devotions quickly went up the chimney,
when I took off the cowl amid the smoke,
since then there have been many love problems,
and all my joy is half frozen.

Ach, senliches leiden
I
Ach senliches leiden,
Meiden, neiden, schaiden, das tüt we,
Besser wer versunken in dem see.
Zart minnikliches weib,
Dein leib mich schreibt und treibt gen Josophat.
Herz, müt, sin, gedanck, ist worden mat.
Es schaidt der tod,
Ob mir dein gnad nicht helfen wil
Auss grosser not;
Mein angst ich dir verhil.
Dein mündlin rot
Hat mir so schier mein gier erwecket vil,
Des wart ich genaden an dem zil.
II
Mein herz in iamer vicht,
Erbricht, bericht und slicht den kummer jo!
Frau, schidlicher freuntschafft wart ich so,
Recht als der delephin,
Wenn in der sin fürt hin zu wages grund
Vor dem sturm, und darnach wirt enzunt
Von sunnen glast,
Die im erkückt all sein gemüt.
Herzlieb, halt vast
Durch all dein weiplich güt!
Lass deinen gast
Nicht sterben, serben, werben in unfrüt!
In ellenden pein ich tob und wüt.
III
Mein houbt, das ist beklait
Mit waffen, slauffen, straffen die natur,
Das mich twingt ain stund für tausent ur.
Wenn ich mein laid betracht
Die nacht, so wacht mein macht mit klainer krafft,
Und ich freuden ganz wird sigehaft.
Mich niemand tröst
Und ist mein leiden sicher gross,
Mein herz, das wirt geröscht
Alas, heartfelt pain
Alas, heartfelt pain,
shunning, fighting, separation, all that hurts,
it would be better to drown in the deep!
Graceful, delightful lady,
you banish me, chasing me to Josaphat.
My heart, mind, spirit and reason have lost their strength.
Death will mean the end of it all
if your mercy will not
help me out of my deep misery.
I hide my anguish from you.
Your red lips
have enflamed my desire, so that I insist, finally,
to be granted an audience.
My heart is struggling,
filled with misery, and is breaking.
Please soothe and lessen my cares.
Lady, I am waiting for your kindness,
like the dolphin, when its instinct guides it down
to the bottom of the sea during a storm,
until it is attracted by
the brilliance of the sun above
which refreshes its heart completely.
Dearest, be steadfast, in the name of all your female virtue!
Do not let your distant one die,
suffer and love in vain.
I am out of my mind, crazy because of the pain of being
apart.
My head is enclosed with laments,
dullness and self-conflict,
one hour thus feels like a thousand.
When I think about my dilemma
at night, I lie awake, weak,
and destroy any joy I might have.
No one consoles me,
which makes my suffering truly bitter.
My heart is burned
text
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11

text
Mit manchem seufften stoss.
Ach we, wann wirt erlöst
mein trauren? tauren, lauren negt und pösst,
Da mit ich der sinn wird gar emblösst.
Der mai mit lieber zal
Der mai mit lieber zal die erd bedecket überal,
Pühel, eben, berg und tal,
Auss süssen voglin schal erklingen,
Singen hohen hal galander, lerchen,
droschel, die nachtigal.
Der gauch fleucht hinden hin
Nach zu grossem ungemach klainen vogelin gogelreich.
Höret, wie er sprach, cu cu, cu cu, cu cu,
Den zins gib mir, den wil ich han von dir,
Der hunger macht lunger mir den magen schir!
Ach ellend! nu wellent sol ich?
So sprach das klaine vich.
Küngel, zeisel, mais, lerch, nu komen wir singen:
Oci und tu ich tu ich tu ich tu ich,
Oci oci oci oci oci oci,
Fi fideli fideli fideli fi,
Ci cieriri ci ci cieriri,
Ci ri ciwigk cidiwigk fici fici.
So sang der gauch neur: kawa wa cu cu.
Raco, so sprach der rab, zwar ich sing ouch wol
Vol müss ich sein, das singen mein
Scheub ein! herein! vol sein!
Liri liri liri liri liri liri lon,
So sang die lerch, so sang die lerch, so sang die lerch.
Ich sing hel ain droschelin, ich sing hel ain droschelin,
Ich sing hel ain droschelin, das in dem wald erklinget.
Ir lierent, zierent gracket und wacket hin und her
Recht als unser pfarrer, zidiwick zidiwick zidiwick,
Zificigo zificigo zificigo, nachtigall,
Dieselb mit irem gesangk behüb den gral.
12
by many deep sighs.
Oh, when will sadness depart from me?
Waiting and hoping plague and torture me,
so that I am losing my mind.
The month of May
The month of May envelops the entire land,
the hills, the plain, mountains and valleys,
delightful birds in a concert make merry and sing
with loud voices, the tufted lark, the field lark,
the thrush and the nightingale.
The cuckoo follows them from behind,
he is a bad pest to these cheerful little birds.
Listen to what he is saying, cu cu, cu cu, cu cu,
give me a toll, I demand it from you,
hunger makes my stomach greedy!
Oh misery, where should I turn now?
said the little creature.
Wren, siskin, titmouse, lark, come now, let us sing:
oci and do I, do I, do I, do I,
oci, oci, oci, oci, oci, oci,
fi fideli, fideli, fideli fi,
ci, cieriri, ci, ci, cieriri,
ci ri, civigk, cidivigk, fici, fici!
But the cuckoo only sang, kawa wa, cu cu.
Raco, sings the raven, truly, my voice is also beautiful
but my stomach must be filled, my song goes:
Shove it in, inside, fill it up,
liri liri liri liri liri liri lon,
is the song of the lark, is the song of the lark,is the song of
the lark.
The thrush announces, My song is so loud! My song is
so loud!
My song is so loud that it echoes in the forest!
Hey birds, you twitter, jubilate, croak and crow,
here and there, just like our priest. Zidiwick zidiwick zidiwick,
zificigo zificigo zificigo, the nightingale
could win the Grail with her singing.

Upchahi, so sprach das ful, lat uns auch dar zu.
Frue vert die kue der esel lue: her sak auff meinem nack.
Rigo rigo rigo rigo rigo rigo kum.
So rufft die mul, so rufft die mul, so rufft die mul.
Ker ab, so sprach die mulnerin heb auff schrey die pawrin,
Nu trag hin mein eselein da da prufta Ja nü leir!
Nicht veir bis dir d’geir dye hawt abziehen wirt bey dem
veyer!
Wol auff wol auff wol auff wol auff saylon pint auff schintt
dich wolpurg!
Rugel dich gut waydman mit iagen paissn rogken in den tan!
Der oben swebt
I
Der oben swebt und niden hebt,
Der vor und hinden, neben strebt
Und ewig lebt, ie was an anefange,
Der alt, der jung, und der von sprung
Trilitzsch gefasst in ainlitz zung
An misshellung mit unbegriffner strange,
Der strenklich starb und was nicht tod,
Der keuschlich ward emphangen und an alle not
Geboren rot, weiss durch ain junckfrau schöne,
Der manig wunder hat gestifft,
Die hell erbrach, den tiefel dorin ser vergifft,
Getült, geschifft all wurz durch stammes tröne.
text
Upchachi, said the colt, I want to join in!
The cow is up early, the donkey cried: Come here, load, onto
my back!
Rigo rigo rigo rigo rigo rigo, come!
like this the mill sounded, like this the mill sounded, like this
the mill sounded.
Beat it! shouted the miller’s wife. Lift! called the farmer’s wife,
Carry it over there, my little donkey! There, there, just snort
your heehaw!
Don’t be lazy, make some music, until the vulture by the lake
strips your skin!
Get up, get up, get up, stretch string, rope-maker, Curse you,
Walburg!
Hurry up, dear hunter, with hunting, drinking, bird-catching
in the woods!
He is the one who hovers above
He is the one who hovers above and holds steady below,
who busily works in front, behind and at the side,
who lives forever, since eternity without beginning.
He – both old and young – is the one who was from the
origin
enfolded in one single word three times,
without a wrong note and in incomprehensible combination,
He is the one who died tortuously, but was not dead.
He was born chastely and without causing pain,
being both white and red, by a beautiful virgin.
He is the one who created so many miracles,
who tore open the gates of Hell and poisoned the devil.
He is the one who makes the twigs and branches grow out
of the roots by means of the sap within.
Please turn page quietly
13

text
II
Dem offen sein all herzen schrein,
Grob, tadelhäfftig, swach, güt, vein,
Das er dorin sicht allerlai gedenke,
Dem tün und lan ist undertan,
Die himel steren, sunn, der man,
Der erden plan, mensch, tier, all wasser rencke,
Auss dem all kunst geflossen ist,
Von dem, der aller creatur durch spähen list
Zu jeder frist ir zierhait würckt, schon eusset,
Dem alle tier, zam und ouch wild,
Hie danckber sein, das er den samen hat gebildt unversert
Der narung milt, gar waideleich vergreusset.
III
Der himel, erd gar unversert
Hat undersetzt an grundes herd,
Das wasser kert dorin durch fremde rünste –
Der wunder zal vil tusent mal
Wer mer ze singen überal
Mit reichem schal, so hindern mich die künste –
Der mir die sel klar geben hat,
Leib, er und güt, vernufft und kristenliche wat:
Der geb mir rat, das ich im also dancke,
Da mit ich all mein veind verpaw
Baid hie und dort, das mich ir kainer nicht verhau.
O keuschlich frau, dein hilf mir dorzu schrancke!
Durch Barbarei, Arabia
I
Durch Barbarei, Arabia,
Durch Hermani in Persia,
Durch Tartari in Suria,
Durch Romani in Türggia,
Ibernia,
Der sprüng han ich vergessen.
Durch Reussen, Preussen, Eiffenlant,
Gen Litto, Liffen, übern strant,
Gen Tennmarckh, Sweden, in Prabant,
Durch Flandern, Franckreich, Engelant
14
He is the one for whom all heart-shrines are open,
whether they are rough, filled with shortcomings,
poor, noble or beautiful, so that He can discover in them
many thoughts.
He is the one to whom all deeds and actions are subject,
the heavenly stars, the sun, the moon,
the earthly sphere, people, animals and all bodies of water.
He is the one from whom all knowledge has emanated.
He is the one who prudently grants all creatures
beautiful grace and makes it visible pleasantly.
He is the one to whom all animals, domestic and also wild,
are thankful for having created the seed
for the rich nourishment so lavishly dispersed.
He is the one who has founded heaven and earth
flawlessly and without needing foundation,
and who makes the water flow through strange channels.
I could sing about these miraculous things
a thousand times and everywhere with a loud voice,
but my art is not good enough.
He is the one who granted me a pure soul,
a body, honour, property, reason, and a Christian faith.
May He give me advice, allowing me to thank Him properly
and to fend off all my enemies,
both here and there, so that no one can hurt me.
Oh, chaste Lady, lend me your assistance in this effort.
Travelling through Morocco, Arabia,
through Armenia to Persia,
through the Tartar lands to Syria,
via Byzantium to Turkey,
then Georgia,
I no longer know how to travel.
Through Russia, Prussia, Estonia,
Lithuania, Livonia, and along the coast
towards Denmark, Sweden, on to Brabant,
through Flanders, France, England

Und Schottenland
Hab ich lang nicht gemessen,
Durch Arragon, Kastilie,
Granaten und Afferen,
Aufs Portugal, Ispanie
Bis gen dem vinstern steren,
Von Profenz gen Marsilie.
In Races vor Saleren,
Daselbs belaib ich an der e,
Mein ellend da zu meren
Vast ungeren,
Auff ainem runden kofel smal,
Mit dickem wald umbfangen,
Vil hoher berg und tieffe tal,
Stain, stauden, stöck, snee stangen,
Der sich ich teglich ane zal.
Noch aines tüt mich pangen,
Das mir der klainen kindlin schal
Mein oren dick bedrangen,
Hand durchgangen.
II
Wie vil mir eren ie beschach
Von fürsten, künigin gefach,
und was ich freuden ie gesach,
Das büss ich als under ainem dach.
Mein ungemach,
Der hatt ain langes ende.
Vil gütter witz, der gieng mir not,
Seid ich müss sorgen umb das brot,
Darzu so wirt mir vil gedrot,
Und tröst mich niena mündli rot.
Den ich ee bott,
Die lassen mich ellende.
Wellent ich gugk, so hindert mich
Köstlicher ziere sinder,
Der ich e pflag, da für ich sich
Neur kelber, gaiss, böck, rinder,
Und knospot leut, swarz, hässeleich,
Vast rüssig gen dem winder;
Die geben müt als sackwein vich.
Vor angst slach ich mein kinder
and Scotland,
I have not journeyed for years;
through Aragon, Castile,
Granada and Navarra,
from Portugal and Galicia
to Cape Finisterre,
from Provence to Marseille,
in Ratzes near Castle Schlern.
I am caught in marriage,
which makes me miserable
very much against my will,
trapped on a round, small hill,
enclosed by a dark forest.
Every day I see countless tall mountains
and deep valleys, rocks, bushes,
tree stumps and sticks in the snow.
Something else depresses me, that is,
the noise of small children,
it mightily afflicts my ears
and pierces them.
text
What ever honours I have received
from princes and queens,
what joys I have experienced,
I atone for all of it now, staying in one place.
My miserable situation
will not be ending soon.
I would urgently need many skills,
since I have a family to support.
People threaten me,
and no red lips grant me consolation.
Those to whom I was once dedicated
now abandon me miserably.
Wherever I look, the ashes
of prized things block my view.
Instead of her whose company
I once enjoyed, I see calves, goats, rams, cows
and idiots, sunburned and ugly, blackened
by soot during winter.
I enjoy them like bad wine and roaches.
Not knowing where to turn,
Please turn page quietly
15

text
Offt hin hinder.
So kompt ir mütter zü gebraust,
Zwar die beginnt zu schelten;
Gäb si mir aines mit der fawsst,
Des müsst ich ser engelten.
Si spricht: ‘wie hastu nu erzausst
Die kind zu ainem zelten!’
Ab irem zoren mir da graust,
Doch mangeln ich fein selten
Scharpf mit spelten.
III
Mein kurzweil, die ist mangerlai,
Neur esel gesang und pfawen geschrai,
Des wunscht ich nicht mer umb ain ai.
Vast rawscht der bach neur hurlahai
Mein houbt enzwai,
Das es beginnt zu krancken.
Also trag ich mein aigen swer;
Teglicher sorg, vil böser mer
Wirt Hauenstain gar seldn ler.
Möcht ichs gewenden an gever,
Oder wer das wer,
Dem wolt ich immer dancken.
Mein lanndesfürst, der ist mir gram
Von böser leutte neide,
Mein dienst, die sein im widerzam,
Das ist mir schad und laide,
Wie wol mir susst kain fürstlich stamm,
Bei meinem güten aide,
Nie hat geswecht leib, er, güt nam
In seiner fürsten waide,
Köstlich raide.
Mein freund, die hassen mich überain
An schuld, des müss ich greisen.
Das klag ich aller werlt gemain,
Den frummen und den weisen,
Darzü vil hohen fürsten rain,
Die sich ir er land preisen,
Das si mich armen Wolckenstein
Die wolf nicht lan erzaisen,
Gar verwaisen.
16
I beat my children, chasing them into a corner.
Their mother rushes at me screaming,
and if she were to hit me
with her fist,
I would feel it, believe me!
She yells: Now you have torn up the children
like pieces of bread!
I am horrified at her anger,
yet how often I see it,
dagger-sharp!
For amusement I find various things,
such as singing of asses and the screaming of peacocks,
all that is not pleasing to me.
The mountain creek rushes down with its constant ‘hurlahai’,
deafening me with its noise,
giving me headaches.
Thus I carry my own burden.
Daily worries and most unpleasant news
plague Castle Hauenstein.
If I could change this somehow,
or if someone else could do it for me,
I would be grateful forever.
The Duke is angry with me,
because of evil-minded envious people.
He does not need my service,
which means a serious loss for me
and makes me angry,
although no other nobleman at a princely,
elegant and pleasing court – I swear upon my honour –
has ever tried to hurt me,
my honour, property, or good name.
All those whom I had trusted are angry with me
for no reason, awful to say.
I beg the whole world,
the honourable and wise people,
the many high-ranking noble princes,
who manage to increase their own reputation,
not to let the wolves rip me,
poor Wolkenstein, apart.
I am as alone as an orphan.

Nu rue mit sorgen
I
‘Nu rue mit sorgen, mein verborgenlicher schacz!
Sleius dein augen schricklich zu
Gen des lichten tages hacz,
Im ze tracz!
Herzen lieb, es ist noch fru.
All dein trauren, lauren las,
Freuden hoff und halt die mass!
Tustu das,
So bistu wol mein.’
‘Ach liebe diren, das sol sei sein.’
II
‘Frau, thu mich straffen! ich verslaffen hab die stund.
Lucifer verswunden ist.
Ei du roselachter mund,
Mach gesund,
Ber dort, hie, wo mir enprisst!
Dein haubt naig, saig auff mein herz,
Ermlein schrenck sunder smerz,
Treib den scherz,
Der uns, frau, mach gail!’
‘Zart lieber man, das sei mit hail.’
III
‘Der glanz durch grebe von der plebe ist entrant;
Ich hor voglin doene vil.
Tag, wer hat nach dir gesant?
Dein gewant
Unser scham nicht teken wil.
Zwar dein greis ich preis doch klain.’
‘Guten morgen, liebstes ain.
Nicht ser wain,
Meiner kunft, der wort schir.
Mit urlaub, frau, hail wunsch ich dir.’
Now rest from your cares
‘Now rest from your cares, my secret treasure!
Close your eyes after all this worry,
before the coming of the bright day,
and despite its arrival.
It is still early, heart-beloved.
Let go sorrow and care,
expect joy to come, but be prudent!
Do thus
and you will surely be mine.’
‘Oh, dearest girl, so shall it be!’
‘Lady, chastise me! I have slept too long.
The morning star has disappeared.
Alas you rose-coloured lips,
heal and help me,
wherever I am lacking.
Bend your head down upon my breast!
Put your arms around me!
Do something, lady,
to make us happy!’
‘Beloved dearest man, may we have only joy!’
‘Grey light is already chased away by blue,
I hear many voices of birds.
Who asked you to come, day?
Your gown
will not hide our nakedness.
Your pale light is not welcome.’
‘Good morning, my most beloved darling,
don’t be so sad,
I’ll be back soon.
I must go lady, I wish you good luck.’
text
Please turn page quietly
17

text
Es fügt sich
VII
Ich han gelebt wol vierzig jar leicht minner zwai
Mit toben, wüten, tichten, singen mangerlai;
Es wer wol zeit, das ich meins aigen kindes geschrai elichen
Hört in ainer wiegen gellen.
So kan ich der vergessen nimmer ewikleich,
Die mir hat geben mut auff disem ertereich;
In aller werlt kund ich nicht finden iren gleich,
Auch fürcht ich ser elicher weibe bellen.
In urtail, rat vil weiser hat geschätzet mich,
Dem ich gevallen han mit schallen liederlich.
Ich, Wolkenstein, leb sicher klain vernünftliklich,
Das ich der werlt also lang beginn zu hellen,
Und wol bekenn, ich wais nicht, wenn ich sterben sol,
Das mir nicht scheiner volgt wann meiner werke zol.
Het ich dann got zu seim gebott gedienet wol,
So forcht ich klain dort haisser flamme wellen.
Wes mich mein bül
I
Wes mich mein bül ie hat erfreut,
Das han ich seider wol verdeut
Mit mangem ungefegten rost,
Den ich durch iren willen kost;
Und ist das laider ane zal.
Gelückes hab ich klainen val,
Seid das si mich mit grossem qual
Hieng mit den füssen lieplich an ain stange,
An andern grossen überlast,
Den mich ir lieb hat angetast;
Sol ich ir dorumb dancken vast,
Des müss si von mir warten eben lange.
Von ir ich dol
Zu Ungern wol
Der kinder vol,
Genant mit liben füssen.
Die tretten mich
Und jetten mich
18
It happened
Forty years minus two I have lived with celebrating,
being wild,
making poems and singing different songs.
It should soon be the time to hear
the noise of my own children in the crib.
But I cannot forget the one who gave me
happiness in this earthly realm, I could not
find her equal in the whole world.
Further, I am afraid of the barking of the wife.
Many a wise man has valued my advice,
liked my tuneful songs.
I, Wolkenstein, have perhaps not lived
so wisely in my time,
and I know not when my life will end,
when my just rewards will come in judgement,
if I had served God according to His will,
I would not fear Hell’s blazing furnace.
Whatever gifts
Whatever gifts my beloved gave me,
turned out to be very hard to digest,
thanks to just so much dirty rusty metal,
which she made me savour, like it or not,
I can’t find words to describe it!
I have no happiness,
because in the most excruciating way
she lovingly bound my feet to a pole,
not to mention other harsh tortures
which I had brought upon myself through her ‘love’.
If I’m supposed to be thankful to her for that,
she will have a long wait to hear me say it.
Thanks to her
I suffer in Hungary,
overrun by ‘children’
who they call ‘Septipedes’ (bed-bugs)
They crawl on me,
and torture me,

Und knetten mich
Und fretten mich,
Das ich mein sünd möcht büssen.
II
Zu Prespurg vor dem ofenloch
Ich und der Ebser hetten rät.
Zwar schüren, haitzen kund ich doch,
Das ich den künig fürher jagt.
Ich meldt mich, das er es ersach.
Er sprach zu mir: ‘dein ungemach
Leidst du von der, die an dir brach,
Dorumb das dir die saitten nimmer klungen.’
Ich antwurt im an als gever:
‘Hett ich gehabt ain peutel swer
Als euer genad, vernempt die mär,
Von meiner frauen wer mir bas gelungen.’
III
Ich hoff, mein sach möcht werden güt,
Liess herzog Fridrich seinen strauss;
Wie er desselben nicht entüt,
So ist dem schimpf der bodem auss.
Segs tausent guldin wil er han,
Die bülschaft käm mich sawer an.
Do sis verbott, hett ichs gelän,
So törft mein rugg jetz gen der banck nicht krachen
In Ungerlant die lange nacht,
Da man die küss aufs sätteln macht.
Dorumb ain jeder minner tracht,
Damit er bül, das er des schimpfs müg glachen.
and bite me
and plague me so much,
that I could be redeemed for all my sins.
In Pressburg, in front of a stove,
Ebser and I met for council.
I managed to stoke the oven so well
that the king had to come out of
the adjoining room.
He saw me and said, ‘You’re suffering
because your lady left you
as you don’t ring her bell anymore!’
I answered immediately,
‘If I had had such a heavy moneybag
as Your Grace, then – get the message –
I would have fared a lot better with my lady.’
I hope that the trial takes a good turn
if Duke Frederick backs off from fighting me.
If he doesn’t, things will get serious.
He wants 6,000 ducats,
in that case my love affair will turn rather sour!
If I had let it go, when she refused my love,
then my back would not have to sigh for pain
while lying on the bench
during the long night here in Hungary,
where they use saddles as pillows.
And so: may every lover play the love game
in such a way that he can laugh about such pleasures!
text
English translations of Der mai mit lieber zal and Der oben swebt
by Albrecht Classen. All other translations by Crawford Young.
19

Eric Larrayadieu About
about the performers
tonight’s performers
Andreas Scholl countertenor
Andreas Scholl has released a series
of highly accclaimed solo recordings:
Arias for Senesino, for which he won
the 2006 Classical Brit Singer of the
Year award; Heroes, a disc of arias by
Handel, Mozart, Hasse and Gluck;
Robert Dowland’s A Musicall Banquet;
Vivaldi Motets with the Australian
Brandenburg Orchestra; Wayfaring
Stranger, a selection of specially
arranged English and American
folksongs with the Orpheus Chamber
Orchestra; and Arcadia, a collection
of rare and unpublished cantatas by
20
composers from Rome’s Arcadian
Circle. His discography also includes
Solomon and Saul under Paul
McCreesh, the Gramophone Awardwinning
accounts of Vivaldi’s Stabat
mater and Caldara’s Maddalena ai
piedi di Cristo; Il duello amoroso, a
selection of Handel’s Italian cantatas
with Accademia Bizantina; and his
latest recordings, Crystal Tears and
Oswald von Wolkenstein: Songs of
Myself.
A committed recitalist, Andreas Scholl
performs at the world’s leading
concert halls and festivals, including at
the Last Night of the Proms in 2005. He
has appeared with the Cleveland
Orchestra, Deutsches Symphonie-
Orchester Berlin, Boston Symphony
Orchestra, Royal Concertgebouw
Orchestra, Akademie für Alte Musik
Berlin, Freiburger Barockorchester and
the Munich Philharmonic Orchestra.
Operatic engagements have included
Bertarido (Rodelinda) for
Glyndebourne Festival and the
Metropolitan Opera, New York, and
the title-role in Giulio Cesare at Royal
Danish Opera, Théâtre des Champs-
Élysées and Opéra de Lausanne.
This season’s highlights include a
concert tour based around the life and
work of Oswald von Wolkenstein, two
concert performances of Giulio
Cesare with Cecilia Bartoli at the Salle
Pleyel, Paris, and concerts with the
Deutsche Radiophilharmonie, Dresden
Philharmonic and the Bavarian Radio
Symphony Orchestra. This spring he
has also undertaken a recital tour to
Asia, including Beijing, Shanghai,
Hong Kong, Tokyo and Seoul.
Andreas Scholl was born in Germany
and his early musical training was with
the Kiedricher Chorbuben. He later
went on to study under Richard Levitt
and René Jacobs at the Schola
Cantorum Basiliensis. Among his many
awards are two ECHO Awards, a Prix
de l’Union de la Presse Musicale Belge
and an Edison Award in 2002 for A
Musicall Banquet.

Shield of Harmony
Shield of Harmony is a quartet of 15thcentury-music
specialists. The
ensemble’s name refers to the circular
shield held by the allegorical maiden
Harmony (Musica), the Seventh Liberal
Art as described by Martianus Capella
(c420) in his Marriage of Philology and
Mercury. From the shield’s concentric
rings emanates celestial music – the socalled
‘Music of the Spheres’.
Ensemble director Crawford Young
graduated from New England
Conservatory in Boston in 1976. He
studied medieval music with Thomas
Binkley at Stanford University prior to
joining the medieval quartet Sequentia
in Cologne in 1978. He has been a
founding member of two prominent
medieval ensembles, the Boston-based
Project Ars Nova and the Ferrara
Ensemble of Basle, which under his
direction in 1996 won a Diapason
d’Or de l’Année and was shortlisted
for a Gramophone Award.
Since 1982 Crawford Young has taught
lute and various medieval music
courses at the Schola Cantorum in
Basle and has given courses at
conservatories and universities in
Europe, North America and Australia.
He has also published research articles
and a facsimile edition of early lute
manuscripts.
With some 30 critically acclaimed
early-music recordings spanning three
decades, he is well-known to early
music audiences. As lutenist and
guitarist he has accompanied Andreas
Scholl since 2004.
about the performers
Kathleen Dineen is from County
Cork, Ireland, and was awarded an
Irish Arts Council Bursary to study voice
with Richard Levitt and Dominique
Vellard at the Schola Cantorum, where
she currently teaches medieval singing.
In addition to being a guest teacher at
the Centre for Early Music
Performance and Research at the
University of Birmingham, she has sung
with many ensembles including The
Clerkes of Oxenford, Sequentia and
the Ferrara Ensemble, and since 2001
has directed the White Raven a
cappella trio, with which she has
recorded two CDs.
She has been musical director for a
number of productions including the
medieval Easter play from Tours in
21

about the performers
2004 and A Celtic Voyage, in
collaboration with Ouroboros Theatre
Ireland in 2008. She has made many
appearances in concert series and
festivals throughout Europe, and has
been featured on many numerous
broadcasts in USA, Australia and
Europe.
Margit Übellacker studied dulcimer
at the Bruckner Conservatory in Linz
with Karl-Heinz Schickhaus and with
Birgit Stolzenburg-De Biasio at the
Richard Strauss Conservatory in
Munich, before going on to study with
Crawford Young at the Schola
Cantorum Basiliensis.
She has performed in Europe, South
America, Asia, Australia and in the
22
USA and has taken part in radio and
CD recordings with groups such as
L’Arpeggiata, Musica Fiorita, Il Suonar
Parlante, Concilium Musicum Wien, the
Australian Brandenburg Orchestra,
Orchestre de Radio France, L’Orfeo
Barockorchester, as well as with
Crawford Young (lute), Aline Zylberajch
(fortepiano) and with her own
ensembles, Dulce Melos and La Gioia
Armonica. With the latter she won
several prizes for best debut CD, in
music by Caldara.
Marc Lewon specialises in medieval
strings and medieval Germanic
languages and literature. After gaining
a Master’s degree in musicology and
medieval German from Heidelberg
University, he moved to Basle to further
his practical music studies in the
Medieval Department of the Schola
Cantorum. There he studied lute with
Crawford Young, vielle with Randall
Cook and singing with Kathleen
Dineen. In 2006 he completed his
diploma in medieval lute, graduating
with honours.
He plays regularly with a number of
ensembles including Dulce Melos, Les
Flamboyants and Le Basile and leads
the ensemble Leones.
Besides a busy performing career, he
also runs courses on medieval music
and publishes articles and editions on
the subject. Since 2008 he has directed
courses on medieval music at Burg
Fürsteneck in Germany.

Bart Vanlaere narrator
The actor Bart Vanlaere studied stage
direction at the RITCS in Brussels and
graduated from the Arts Educational
School in London.
His acting credits include King Billy
(for BBC Northern Ireland) and as
Salvador Dali in the film Commercial
Break. He has performed on stage
with NTG (Gent) in Berlin Berlin, in
London and in the Netherlands,as well
as in his native Belgium, Edinburgh
and New York Off-Broadway in
Dancing under the Bridge, Hello Dali,
The Chairs (Eugene Ionesco), Les
enfants terribles (Jean Cocteau) and
Beyond Therapy (Christopher Durang).
He recently performed as St George in
a satirical adaptation of the medieval
story that premiered as George in the
Dragon’s Den at the Edinburgh Fringe
Festival.
Bart Vanlaere has also appeared in
Dutch and Belgian television series
such as 12 steden 13 ongelukken,
Zone Stad and Familie and is in
regular demand as a voice-over artist
for commercials and CD-roms.
Jos Groenier director
about the performers
Jos Groenier studied stage design in
Antwerp and Maastricht, as well as
percussion at the Arnhem
Conservatory and he has performed in
a wide variety of styles, from classical
to pop and jazz. He has also worked
as an actor and director for a
commedia dell’arte group and was
co-founder of the Utrechtse Theater
Initiatieven.
He began working as an independent
designer/director in Utrecht,
undertaking projects for Camerata
Trajectina and the Holland Early Music
23

about the performers
Festival, among others, and is in
demand all over Europe, including
Copenhagen, Cologne, Oslo, Rome,
Cracow and Istanbul. He has directed
several Baroque operas in the
Netherlands.
He taught stage design and directing
at the Tilburg Conservatory from 1989
to 1996. He now regularly lectures at
the conservatories of Amsterdam,
Tilburg and Maastricht, as well as
being a guest lecturer in Oslo.
Since 2001 Jos Groenier has
developed multi-discipline
performances that combine theatre,
music, dance, film and circus. Recent
highlights have included a cabaret tour
in Holland and Belgium, Carmen for
Opera Kiev, ‘Remember Me’ with the
Monteverdi Choir, which toured in the
Netherlands, while this year includes a
tour of Elvis Costello’s The Juliet Letters.
24
Uri Rapaport lighting designer
Uri Rapaport first became interested in
lighting design aged 14, teaching
himself via amateur theatre
productions. He began his
professional career in 1978, working
as a lighting engineer and technical
manager for the Stadsschouwburg in
Utrecht. In 1996 he founded his own
company, Rapatech.
In 1991 he met the Flemish director
Dirk Tanghe, with whom he has
collaborated on many productions,
including Hamlet, A Midsummer
Night’s Dream, Who’s Afraid of
Virginia Woolf, The Misanthrope, The
Programme produced by Harriet Smith; printed by Sharp Print Limited;
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Please make sure that all digital watch alarms and mobile phones are switched off during the
performance. In accordance with the requirements of the licensing authority, sitting or standing
in any gangway is not permitted. Smoking is not permitted anywhere on the Barbican premises.
No eating or drinking is allowed in the auditorium. No cameras, tape recorders or any other
recording equipment may be taken into the hall.
Sjaak Ramakers
Lover, Night and Day, Ghosts, The
Kitchen, The Glass Menagerie and
The Seagull.
In 2002 he joined the theatre company
Paardenkathedraal, working on such
productions as A Streetcar Named
Desire, Blood Wedding, Anytime,
Anyplace, Anywhere, The Father and
Betrayal.
He has also designed lighting for
musicals and plays produced by the
Stage Entertainment Company,
including The Chain, Collected Stories,
The Housekeeper, Moments of Luck,
The Sound of Music, Sunset Boulevard,
High School Musical and Evita.
Uri Rapaport has also worked on civic
projects, including the opening of the
Amsterdam Arena and the Gay
Games, as well as designing for
museums, film and architecture,
exhibiting his own photographic and
video work, and giving lectures at the
universities of Amsterdam and
Brussels.
Barbican Centre
Silk Street, London EC2Y 8DS
Administration 020 7638 4141
Box Office 020 7638 8891
Great Performers Last-Minute Concert
Information Hotline 0845 120 7505
www.barbican.org.uk