C'EST À L'AUBE, or DON’T BREAK MY DAY! Poetical sketch by Asya Lazar ARDOVA
C'EST À L'AUBE, or DON’T BREAK MY DAY!
Poetical sketch by Asya Lazar ARDOVA
Listen to the soundtrack “C'EST À L'AUBE, or DON’T BREAK MY DAY!” (Philippe-Gérard, Tailleferre, Lemarque) performed by Asya Lazar ARDOVA (piano) on the page ardSOUND of ardisonata.net.
There are minutes, when you urgently need, but not the best of art to penetrate inside your mind, when you need something sincere and fleshy to make yourself stronger against life circumstances. I decided to know if such bosom genres, not bound with special styles and artistic devices existed throughout the human history as parallel trend of feelings expression.
Vasily Yanchenko. Autumn in the Summer Garden,St.Petersburg
To be on the same wavelength is to study both art and human mind’s ability (or temporal possibility) to perceive it. Two natures, two independent elements they are, very often denying each other from inside. However, a bit aside from art as science and art as entertainment, there are born special supporting forms on the border of everyday life with its unfairness and gaps, unattainable for philosophical symbols. Of course, here the genre of chanson is remembered. Chansonnier of nowadays keeps the roots from the medieval troubadour, performing most expressive and ever acute musical monologues, or, supposedly, these are dialogues with everyone’s languid and anguishing minds. No artistic methods seem to be used – only the intonation.
Prachechniy Lane, 8, St. Petersburg
To show continuity I took several songs performed by Yves Montand and they led me to their prototypes throughout the centuries, — initial genres, formed long ago.
ALBA – MEDIEVAL PARTING SONG
The hawthorn is so sad, though in the spring,
That sweet appointment’s broken, like a dream,
The bugle is to call with sunny beam,
Alas, the daybreak is a cruel thing…
From the medieval French poetry, translated by Asya Ardova
THERE AT DAYBREAK
French verses by Flavien Monod
Russian interpretation by David Samoylov
Translated to English by Asya Ardova
There at daybreak, there at daybreak,
When the wounded soldiers moan,
And the captives dream of home,
Doomed to stay forever alone.
There at daybreak, there at daybreak,
It’s so hard to think of faith,
And to scrutinize your way –
Most hard.
And there sounds farewell,
And two hearts will join and dwell
At the dawn time of the day.
There at daybreak, there at daybreak,
There extinguishes the star,
And the pain’s felt afar,
And the loving people part
At the dawn time.
As the ray will pierce the night,
Missing thoughts, embrace me tight,
So hard…
I am seeking for your hands,
And for you, my trusty friends,
There, at dawn time of the day.
There at daybreak, there at daybreak,
Sulk is melting, clouds will cast,
And my breast is catching blast,
And the hope is here to trust
At the dawn.
And the birds will start to sing,
And the Future waves its wing.
There at dawn time of the day.
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Decembrists' (Dekabristov) Street, 49, St.Petersburg
My article is about the 20th century and its many-sided divergent trends in art. Starting this sketch, I just found out the collection of songs (published in 1956) “From the Repertoire of Yves Montand”. While studying these scenes I tried to define their musical genesis and partially the poetical origin.
Quite of a sudden I discovered, that the song “C'est à l'aube” was a true medieval Alba (parting song of loving hearts), “La Routiers” resembled tarantella, “Le Musicien” marked as bolero was closer to Latin American tangos, “Quand un soldat” – manifesting leading song. That’s the system of different models and epochs.
Thus searching for initial genres, the intrinsic ones, I remembered, that once Germaine Tailleferre, member of Le Six, composed the pieces “Fleurs de France” on the base of old French Songs of different regions of France. Germaine Tailleferre was an elder contemporary of Francis Lemarque and Philipp-Gérard, so as Yves Montand, whom she could hear and enjoy. I adduce my English interpretations of Flavien Monod’s poem, implying also most courageous manly style of the Russian translator poet David Samoylov. The epigraph is taken from intrinsic medieval Alba. Besides, it was enthralling for me to give English interpretation of the canzona by Charles d'Orléans (1394—1465), who spent some time in England, as the example of revived contemporaneity and vivacity.
RONDO
French verses by Charles d'Orléans
Russian interpretation by S. Vysheslavtseva
Translated to English by Asya Ardova
Just plead for flame, the winter flame,
And plead for wine, summer wine,
Do not forget the love of mine,
Wherever we are – it’s all the same.
I’m neither a gambler, nor a scamp,
Just listen to the advice of mine,
And plead for wine, summer wine,
And plead for flame, the winter flame.
It’s fine, when your glass is drain,
When hottest dream’s inside your heart,
When jealousy is laid apart.
It was inspired by the heaven –
Just plead for flame, the winter flame.