DESCRIPTION:
This video is from the Senior Recital of Shawn Patrick Fletcher on April 26, 2012.

Born into a very protective family environment, Ernest Chausson (1855-1899) grew up surrounded mostly by adults. During this early time of his life, Chausson developed a very strong foundation of high culture, which was reflected in his serious and refined demeanor. His parents' influence was seen later in his life when Chausson decided to pursue a law career, despite being a good musician, writer and artist. After spending a number of years in law, Chausson was convinced to pursue music, writing his first song in 1877. This change began what became a very successful career for Chausson who spent the rest of his life with what he considered a very peaceful balance between spending time with his family and his music.

In his early writing Chausson's style was very similar to that of Richard Wagner and more noticeably Cesar Franck. However, it wasn't until Chausson decided to reinvent his style that his music increased in popularity. Chausson thought that French music needed to transition back to its classic form and romance. It was at this point that he began writing with the intimate beauty for which Chausson is now known.

Within my story, Le Colibri represents the afternoon. The singer has been anxiously waiting to see his lover all morning and is now on his way to see her. As he walks, he passes by a beautiful hummingbird and cannot help but stop and watch as it gracefully floats from one flower to the next. His mind again returns to the thought of his lover and he hurries on his way.


Le Colibri

Le vert colibri,
le roi des collines,
Voyant la rosée et le soleil clair
Luire dans son nid tissé d'herbes fines,
Comme un frais rayon s'échappe dans l'air.

Il se hâte et vole aux sources voisines,
Où les bambous font le bruit de la mer,
Où l'açoka rouge
aux odeurs divines
S'ourve et porte au cœur un humide éclair.

Vers la fleur dorée il descend, se pose,
Et boit tant d'amour dans la coupe rose,
Qu'il meurt
ne sachant s'il l'a pu tarir!

Sur to lèvre pure, ô ma bien-aimée,
Telle aussi mon âme eut voulu mourir,
Du premier baiser qui l'a parfumée.

Poem by Leconte de Lisle

The Hummingbird

The green hummingbird,
the king of the hills,
Seeing the dew and the bright sun
Shining into his nest, woven of fine grasses,
Darts into the air like a ray of light.

He hurries and flies to the nearby springs,
Where bamboos make a sound like the sea,
Where the red hibiscus
with its divine fragrance
Unfolds the dewy brilliance at its heart.

He descends to the golden flower, alights,
And drinks so much love from the rosy cup,
That he dies,
not knowing if he had exhausted its nectar!

On your pure lips, O my beloved,
Likewise my soul wished to die,
Of the first kiss which perfumed it.

Translated by Winifred Radford