Opera Innovators Series: Sasha Cooke Recital
American mezzo-soprano Sasha Cooke and Boston Conservatory at Berklee faculty pianist Jessica Chow Shinn present a recital as part of the Conservatory’s Opera Innovators Series.
Cooke is a Grammy Award winner who has been called a “luminous standout” by the New York Times and “equal parts poise, radiance, and elegant directness” by Opera News. She has sung at the Metropolitan Opera, San Francisco Opera, English National Opera, Seattle Opera, Opéra National de Bordeaux, and Gran Teatre del Liceu, among others, and with over 80 symphony orchestras worldwide, frequently performing the works of Mahler.
As a dedicated recitalist, Cooke was presented by Young Concert Artists in her widely acclaimed New York and Washington debuts at Carnegie’s Zankel Hall and the Kennedy Center. She has also appeared in recital at Alice Tully Hall, the Wigmore Hall, the Kennedy Center, and the 92nd Street Y. Her recordings can be found on the Hyperion, BIS, Chandos, Pentatone, Naxos, Bridge Records, Yarlung, GPR Records, and Sono Luminus labels.
Her most recent recordings include Intonations: Songs from the Violins of Hope by Jake Heggie and Gene Scheer; Michael Tilson Thomas’s Meditations on Rilke with the San Francisco Symphony, which won the 2021 Grammy Award for Best Classical Compendium; L’enfance du Christ with Sir Andrew Davis and the Melbourne Symphony; and Mason Bates’s The (R)evolution of Steve Jobs, which won the 2019 Grammy Award for Best Opera Recording.
A graduate of Rice University and the Juilliard School, Cooke was appointed codirector of the Lehrer Vocal Institute at the Music Academy of the West in 2023.
This event is open to Berklee students, faculty, and staff with a valid Berklee ID, and invited guests only.
Sasha Cooke is presented as part of Boston Conservatory at Berklee’s Opera Innovators Series in partnership with the Boston Lyric Opera.
Program Information
CLAUDE DEBUSSY (1862–1918): Chansons de Bilitis ALMA MAHLER (1879–1964): Selections from Fünf Lieder RICHARD WAGNER (1813–1883): Selections from Wesendonck Lieder —INTERMISSION— JENNIFER HIGDON (b. 1962): Selections from Summer Music SCOTT ORDWAY (b. 1984): Expanse of My Soul (premiere) MICHAEL TILSON THOMAS (b. 1944): “Not Everyone Thinks I’m Beautiful” MICHAEL TILSON THOMAS (b. 1944): “Grace”Repertoire
La flûte de Pan
La chevelure
Le tombeau des Naïades
Die stille Stadt
Bei dir ist es traut
Laue Sommernacht
In meines Vaters Garten
Stehe still!
Schmerzen
Träume
Summer Hue
Crossed Threads
A Summer Night
Words by Sasha Cooke and Kelly Markgraf, edited and arranged by Scott Ordway
Your Voice
Blindfold
Sighs Become Breath
Welcome
Last year, the Conservatory announced a new educational and artist development partnership with our neighbor, Boston Lyric Opera (BLO). The partnership unlocks incredible opportunities for Boston Conservatory students and members of BLO’s Jane and Steven Akin Emerging Artists, and includes the Opera Innovators Series—a curated collection of talks and master classes that will now engage some of the most innovative and sought-after figures in the opera world. Additionally, Voice Department classes in art song, vocal pedagogy, and the choral arts will welcome an exceptional lineup of visiting clinicians, each of whom brings their own powerful and distinct voice to bear on our season’s productions and curricula.
I am so grateful to our generous donors whose giving provides access to the tools and resources our students and faculty need to succeed here and beyond. Providing a transformative high level of training is the Conservatory’s reason for being. Inherent in this charge is our faculty and administration’s commitment to fostering a genuine sense of goodness, breathing familial inspiration through our Conservatory’s hallways and learning spaces. There is an ethic of care here that is distinct and that champions people’s goals and aspirations in ways where they feel creative, safe, powerful, and courageous, in and through the learning. We’re helping students build a life for themselves through music that has purpose and that could actually change the world. With a faculty of international renown, a stealthy annual lineup of important visiting artists, and a strong commitment to a meaningful list of civic and global initiatives, Boston Conservatory’s Voice Department is an exciting place to be!
I hope you enjoy your experience with us this evening and welcome you to join us again often.
—Isaí Jess Muñoz, Interim Dean of Music
Program Notes
Of all literary genres, the love letter is among those with the costliest stakes. In this form, to express oneself too earnestly, too hesitantly, too obscurely, or too plainly can result in catastrophe. And while the love letter is a genre with an ancient provenance and with distinguished examples from every language, culture, and tradition, it is a form which is decreasingly represented in our contemporary communicative habits, trending as they are toward brevity, informality, and, often, a pernicious form of self-protective cynicism. When we do exchange written expressions of tenderness and affection, though, they become artifacts of our loves, sometimes outlasting the relationships themselves and at other times forming a kind of canon of foundational texts from which the stories of our most important relationships emerge.
When discussing a new song cycle with the American mezzo-soprano Sasha Cooke, I was deeply moved when she shared a set of early-relationship love poems that she had exchanged with her now-husband Kelly Markgraf. She suggested that I might set them to music which she would sing in a recital alongside music by both Gustav and Alma Mahler. The program would explore the theme of mutual inspiration within a relationship, replacing the tired—and tiresome—trope of the male artist and his “muse” with a more honest appraisal of the ways in which strong relationships generate and nurture creativity.
In sharing something so intimate and personal—words which were composed with no intention of publication—Sasha placed an uncommon amount of trust in me as a composer and, by extension, in her audiences. She trusted that I would read her words carefully, listen closely to what they said, and set them to music in a way which honored and respected their importance as literary objects, but also as artifacts of a real and meaningful relationship. This is no small act of trust.
By setting these words to music, I hope to refashion the traditional relationships between poet, subject, composer, and interpreter. Sasha is the author, subject, and interpreter of the texts, whereas I became an interpreter as well as a creative artist. For me, this was a fascinating challenge because it gave me the opportunity to work with a text that is beautiful precisely because it is true.
The most important structural feature of these texts is the fact that they are letters between two authors and thus represent two discrete sources of ideas and feelings. My challenge was to create a sense of dialogue between these two authors without resorting to binary choices such as assigning words by one author to a high register and words by the other author to a low register. Each song’s form follows the back-and-forth of the epistolary exchange, but the character of the music itself doesn’t pigeonhole either author into a fixed, characteristic mode of vocal expression. Both authors are represented by music that is assertive as well as contemplative, impassioned as well as reflective, and lyrical as well as plainspoken. As in life, each individual speaks in different ways at different times.
Working with these texts, I was continually inspired by the circumstances of their creation: in private, in secret, in earnest, and in love. While I happen to find them very beautiful in their own right, their real meaning comes from the fact that they were written in truth when it mattered most. Scott Ordway
Pour le jour des Hyacinthies, il m’a donné une syrinx faite de roseaux bien taillés, unis avec la blanche cire qui est douce à mes lèvres comme le miel. ALMA MAHLER (1879–1964): Selections from Fünf Lieder MICHAEL TILSON THOMAS (b. 1944): “Not Everyone Thinks I’m Beautiful”Text and Translations
CLAUDE DEBUSSY (1862–1918): Chansons de Bilitis
Text by Pierre Louÿs
La flûte de Pan
The Flute of Pan
For Hyacinthus day he gave me a syrinx made of carefully cut reeds, bonded with white wax which tastes sweet to my lips like honey.
Il m’apprend à jouer, assise sur ses genoux; mais je suis un peu tremblante. Il en joue après moi, si doucement que je l’entends à peine.
He teaches me to play, as I sit on his lap; but I am a little fearful. He plays it after me, so gently that I scarcely hear him.
Nous n’avons rien à nous dire, tant nous sommes près l’un de l’autre; mais nos chansons veulent se répondre, et tour à tour nos bouches s’unissent sur la flûte.
We have nothing to say, so close are we one to another, but our songs try to answer each other, and our mouths join in turn on the flute.
Il est tard; voici le chant des grenouilles vertes qui commence avec la nuit. Ma mère ne croira jamais que je suis restée si longtemps à chercher ma ceinture perdue.
It is late; here is the song of the green frogs that begins with the night. My mother will never believe I stayed out so long to look for my lost sash.
La chevelure
The tresses of hair
Il m’a dit: “Cette nuit, j’ai rêvé. J’avais ta chevelure autour de mon cou. J’avais tes cheveux comme un collier noir autour de ma nuque et sur ma poitrine.
He said to me: “Last night I dreamed. I had your tresses around my neck. I had your hair like a black necklace all round my nape and over my breast.
Je les caressais, et c’étaient les miens; et nous étions liés pour toujours ainsi, par la même chevelure la bouche sur la bouche, ainsi que deux lauriers n’ont souvent qu’une racine.
I caressed it, and it was mine; and we were united thus forever by the same tresses, mouth on mouth, just as two laurels often share one root.
Et peu à peu, il m’a semblé, tant nos membres étaient confondus, que je devenais toi-même ou que tu entrais en moi comme mon songe.”
And gradually, it seemed to me, so intertwined were our limbs that I was becoming you, or you were entering into me like a dream.”
Quand il eut achevé, il mit doucement ses mains sur mes épaules, et il me regarda d’un regard si tendre, que je baissai les yeux avec un frisson.
When he had finished, he gently set his hands on my shoulders and gazed at me so tenderly that I lowered my eyes with a shiver.
Le tombeau des Naïades
The tomb of the Naiads
Le long du bois couvert de givre, je marchais; mes cheveux devant ma bouche se fleurissaient de petits glaçons, et mes sandales étaient lourdes de neige fangeuse et tassée.
Along the frost-bound wood I walked; my hair across my mouth, blossomed with tiny icicles, and my sandals were heavy with muddy, packed snow.
Il me dit: “Que cherches-tu?” “Je suis la trace du satyre. Ses petits pas fourchus alternent comme des trous dans un manteau blanc.” Il me dit: "Les satyres sont morts.
He said to me: “What do you seek?” “I follow the satyr’s track. His little, cloven hoof-marks alternate like holes in a white cloak.” He said to me: “The satyrs are dead.
Les satyres et les nymphes aussi. Depuis trente ans il n’a pas fait un hiver aussi terrible. La trace que tu vois est celle d’un bouc. Mais restons ici, où est leur tombeau.”
The satyrs and the nymphs too. For thirty years there has not been so harsh a winter. The tracks you see are those of a goat. But let us stay here, where their tomb is.”
Et avec le fer de sa houe il cassa la glace de la source où jadis riaient les naïades. Il prenait de grands morceaux froids, et les soulevant vers le ciel pâle, il regardait au travers.
And with the iron head of his hoe he broke the ice of the spring, where the naiads used to laugh. He picked up some huge cold fragments, and, raising them to the pale sky, gazed through them.
Texts by Richard Dehmel, Maria Rilke, Otto Julius Bierbaum, Otto Erich Hartleben
Die stille Stadt
The silent town
Liegt eine Stadt im Tale,
A town lies in the valley,
ein blasser Tag vergeht.
a pale day is fading;
es wird nicht lange dauern mehr,
it will not be long
bis weder Mond noch Sterne
before neither moon nor stars
nur Nacht am Himmel steht.
but night alone will deck the skies.
Von allen Bergen drücken
From every mountain
nebel auf die Stadt,
mists weigh on the town;
es dringt kein Dach, nicht Hof noch Haus,
no roof, no courtyard, no house
kein Laut aus ihrem Rauch heraus,
no sound can penetrate the smoke,
kaum Türme noch und Brücken.
scarcely towers and bridges even.
Doch als dem Wandrer graute,
But as fear seized the traveler,
da ging ein Lichtlein auf im Grund
a gleam appeared in the valley;
und durch den Rauch und Nebel
and through the smoke and mist
begann ein leiser Lobgesang
came a faint song of praise
aus Kindermund.
from a child's lips.
Bei dir ist es traut
I feel warm and close with you
Bei dir ist es traut:
I feel warm and close with you:
Zage Uhren schlagen
clocks strike hesitantly,
wie aus weiten Tagen.
like they did in distant days.
Komm mir ein Liebes sagen—
aber nur nicht laut.
Say something loving to me—
but not aloud.
Ein Tor geht irgendwo
draussen im Blütentreiben.
A gate opens somewhere
out in the burgeoning.
Der Abend horcht an den Scheiben.
Evening listens at the window panes.
Lass uns leise bleiben:
Let us stay quiet,
Keiner weiss uns so.
no one knows us thus.
Laue Sommernacht
Mild summer night
Laue Sommernacht: am Himmel
Mild summer night: in the sky
Stand kein Stern, im weiten Walde
Not a star, in the deep forest
Suchten wir uns tief im Dunkel,
We sought each other in the dark
Und wir fanden uns.
And found one another.
Fanden uns im weiten Walde
Found one another in the deep wood
In der Nacht, der sternenlosen,
In the night, the starless night,
Hielten staunend uns im Arme
And amazed, we embraced
In der dunklen Nacht.
In the dark night.
War nicht unser ganzes Leben
Our entire life—was it not
So ein Tappen, so ein Suchen?
Such a tentative quest?
Da: In seine Finsternisse
There: into its darkness,
Liebe, fiel Dein Licht.
O Love, fell your light.
In meines Vaters Garten
In my father's garden
In meines Vaters Garten—
In my father’s garden—
blühe mein Herz, blüh auf—
blossom, O my heart, blossom—
in meines Vaters Garten
In my father’s garden
stand ein schattender Apfelbaum—
grew a shady apple tree—
Süsser Traum—
Sweet dream—
stand ein schattender Apfelbaum.
grew a shady apple tree.
Drei blonde Königstöchter—
Three blond princesses—
blühe mein Herz, blüh auf—
blossom, O my heart, blossom—
drei wunderschöne Mädchen
three wonderfully beautiful girls
schliefen unter dem Apfelbaum—
slept beneath the apple tree—
Süsser Traum—
Sweet dream—
schliefen unter dem Apfelbaum.
slept beneath the apple tree.
Die allerjüngste Feine—
The youngest of the three beauties—
blühe mein Herz, blüh auf—
blossom, O my heart, blossom—
die allerjüngste Feine
the youngest of the three beauties
blinzelte und erwachte kaum—
blinked and hardly awoke—
Süsser Traum—
Sweet dream—
blinzelte und erwachte kaum.
blinked and hardly awoke.
Die zweite fuhr sich übers Haar—
The second ran her hand through her hair—
blühe mein Herz, blüh auf—
blossom, O my heart, blossom—
sah den roten Morgentraum—
Saw the red morning dream—
Süsser Traum—
Sweet dream—
Sie sprach: Hört ihr die Trommel nicht—
She said: Don’t you hear the drums?
blühe mein Herz, blüh auf—
blossom, O my heart, blossom—
Süsser Traum—
Sweet dream—
hell durch den dämmernden Traum?
Brightly through the dawn?
Mein Liebster zieht in den Kampf—
My beloved is going to war
blühe mein Herz, blüh auf—
blossom, O my heart, blossom—
mein Liebster zieht in den Kampf hinaus,
My beloved is going to war,
küsst mir als Sieger des Kleides Saum—
Kisses as victor the hem of my dress
Süsser Traum—
Sweet dream—
küsst mir des Kleides Saum!
Kisses the hem of my dress.
Die dritte sprach und sprach so leis—
The third spoke, and spoke so quietly—
blühe mein Herz, blüh auf—
blossom, O my heart, blossom—
die dritte sprach und sprach so leis:
The third spoke and spoke so quietly:
Ich küsse dem Liebsten des Kleides Saum—
I kiss the hem of my beloved’s coat—
Süsser Traum—
Sweet dream—
ich küsse dem Liebsten des Kleides Saum.
I kiss the hem of my beloved’s coat.
RICHARD WAGNER (1813–1883): Selections from Wesendonck Lieder
Text by Mathilde Wesendonck
Stehe still!
Stand still!
Sausendes, brausendes Rad der Zeit,
Rushing, roaring wheel of time,
Messer du der Ewigkeit;
You that measure eternity;
Leuchtende Sphären im weiten All,
Gleaming spheres in the vast universe,
Die ihr umringt den Weltenball;
You that surround our earthly sphere;
Urewige Schöpfung, halte doch ein,
Eternal creation, cease:
Genug des Werdens, laß mich sein!
Enough of becoming, let me be!
Halte an dich, zeugende Kraft,
Hold yourselves back, generative powers,
Urgedanke, der ewig schafft!
Primal Thought that always creates!
Hemmet den Atem, stillet den Drang,
Stop your breath, still your urge,
Schweiget nur eine Sekunde lang!
Be silent for a single moment!
Schwellende Pulse, fesselt den Schlag;
Swelling pulses, restrain your beating;
Ende, des Wollens ew'ger Tag!
Eternal day of the Will, end!
Daß in selig süßem Vergessen
That in blessed, sweet oblivion
Ich mög' alle Wonne ermessen!
I might measure all my bliss!
Wenn Auge in Auge wonnig trinken,
When eye gazes blissfully into eye,
Seele ganz in Seele versinken;
When soul drowns utterly in soul;
Wesen in Wesen sich wiederfindet,
When being finds itself in being,
Und alles Hoffens Ende sich kündet,
And the goal of every hope is near,
Die Lippe verstummt in staundendem Schweigen,
When lips are mute in silent wonder,
Keinen Wunsch mehr will das Innre zeugen:
When the soul wishes for nothing more:
Erkennt der Mensch des Ew'gen Spur,
Then man perceives Eternity's footprint,
Und löst dein Rätsel, heil'ge Natur!
And solves your riddle, holy Nature!
Schmerzen
Agonies
Sonne, weinest jeden Abend
Every evening, sun, you redden
Dir die Schönen Augen rot,
Your lovely eyes with weeping,
Wenn im Meeresspiegel badend
When, bathing in the sea
Dich erreicht der frühe Tod;
You die an early death;
Doch erstehst in alter Pracht,
Yet you rise in your old splendor,
Glorie der düstren Welt,
The glory of the dark world,
Du am Morgen, neu erwacht,
When you wake in the morning
Wie ein stolzer Siegesheld!
As a proud and conquering hero!
Ach, wie sollte ich da klagen,
Ah, why should I complain,
Wie, mein Herz, so schwer dich sehn,
Why should I see you, my heart, so depressed,
Muß die Sonne selbst verzagen,
If the sun itself must despair,
Muß die Sonne untergehn?
If the sun itself must set?
Und gebieret Tod nur Leben,
If only death gives birth to life,
Geben Schmerzen Wonnen nur:
If only agony brings bliss:
O wie dank'ich daß gegeben
O how I give thanks to Nature
Solche Schmerzen mir Natur.
For giving me such agony!
Träume
Dreams
Sag, welch wunderbare Träume
Say, what wondrous dreams are these
Halten meinen Sinn umfangen,
Embracing all my senses,
Daß sie nicht wie leere Schäume
That they have not, like bubbles,
Sind in ödes Nichts vergangen?
Vanished to a barren void?
Träume, die in jeder Stunde,
Dreams, that with every hour
Jedem Tage schöner blühn,
Bloom more lovely every day,
Und mit ihrer Himmelskunde
And with their heavenly tidings
Selig durchs Gemüte ziehn!
Float blissfully through the mind!
Träume, die wie hehre Strahlen
Dreams, that with glorious rays
In die Seele sich versenken,
Penetrate the soul,
Dort ein ewig Bild zu malen:
There to paint an eternal picture:
Allvergessen, Eingedenken!
Forgetting all, remembering one!
Träume, wie wenn Frühlingssonne
Dreams, as when the Spring sun
Aus dem Schnee die Blüten küßt,
Kisses blossoms from the snow,
Daß zu nie geahnter Wonne
So the new day might welcome them
Sie der neue Tag begrüßt,
In unimagined bliss,
Daß sie wachsen, daß sie blühen,
So that they grow and flower,
Träumend spenden ihren Duft,
Bestow their scent as in a dream,
Sanft an deiner Brust verglühen,
Fade softly away on your breast
Und dann sinken in die Gruft.
And sink into their grave.
JENNIFER HIGDON (b. 1962): Selections from Summer Music
Summer Hue
Text by Jennifer Higdon
Summer hue
leaves breathe deep green
crickets chirping,
whippoorwills kean.
Fresh cut grass,
the haze of..the laze of day,
in pools swim hard,
then naptime glaze.
Time stands still,
as days softly lean,
no hurry forward,
'til Summer leaves...
a summer hue.
Crossed Threads
Text by Helen Hunt Jackson
The silken threads by viewless spinners spun,
Which float so idly on the summer air,
And help to make each summer morning fair,
Shining like silver in the summer sun,
Are caught by wayward breezes, one by one,
Are blown to east and west and fastened there,
Weaving on all the roads their sudden snare.
No sign which road doth safest, freest run,
The wingèd insects know, that soar so gay
To meet their death upon each summer day.
How dare we any human deed arraign;
Attempt to recon any moment's cost;
Or any pathway trust as safe and plain
Because we see not where the threads have crossed?
A Summer Night
Text by Elizabeth Drew Stoddard
I feel the breath of the summer night,
Aromatic fire:
The trees, the vines, the flowers are astir
With tender desire.
The white moths flutter about the lamp,
Enamored with light;
And a thousand creates softly sing
A song to the night!
But I am alone, and how can I sing
Praises to thee?
Come, Night! unveil the beautiful soul
That waiteth for me.
SCOTT ORDWAY (b. 1984): Expanse of My Soul
Your Voice
Expanse of my soul:
Your voice like a heavy blanket
Easing me into the earth, and
I imagine your broad view and the
Simple room with the lone
Hook on the wall, and
You sit on the bed and
Weep and breathe and
Look out for hours.
Now coursing through me,
Waking from children
Laughing in the trees,
Silhouettes beckoning the
Ocean. Beams of light:
I know not where from,
I just feel and feel and feel.
It's a pilgrimage, isn't it?
I hesitate to say it, but God knows
It’s holy. It belongs. Is.
I have become yours.
At your side the fickle earth is velvet
that beckons each—next—step.
Blindfold
Blindfolded entering the room, I know where to find you:
Here on an island of life. I put the blindfold on again
And know once more
That you are there.
Your eyes gaze back at me:
A world of truth and clear.
They smile into my heart.
Now is our time and our place,
Our own sense of space
To decide by day and
By night what we are.
Tethered together,
Floating deep and afar,
Awareness our beacon
In waters spread wide.
May we be still and listen,
Ever-knowing the tide
That brings and takes and
Brings again.
Soft hands that cling to ours,
Still singing songs.
They smile and we know all is well.
’Tis their love that blends this magic spell.
Sighs Become Breath
Pockets of sand on my eyes,
Trickling down to kiss my soul
And twist up toward the sun.
No one hears the peace
Easing forth from those eyes
Which breathe calm and home and warm.
Waves cleanse
And nourish this youth,
Bringing that light,
Carrying that warmth
Home to where it began
When ears became mouths and
Sighs became breath.
You are me. I am yours
In our lair, in our home.
Not everyone thinks that I’m beautiful,
Only a special few.
Headed up by fools like you.
It takes one to know one, ooh you lucky fools.
Not everything works like I hoped it would.
Just when I start wantin’ to stay
I see it’s time that I was on my way,
Tomorrow’s gone, here today, dear lucky fools.
Well I don’t have a fortune to give,
All I have is left-over dreams that are far out of fashion.
Once I wore my heart on my sleeve,
Now I try and not call attentions to things that I treasure
‘Cause I found out—
Not everyone thinks I’m beautiful
So when I see you see it, too
Why then I want to make it me and you.
So here’s to the tried and true.
Oh, lucky fools,
Oh lucky fools,
Dear lucky fools.
MICHAEL TILSON THOMAS (b. 1944): “Grace”
Thanks to whoever is there for this tasty plate of herring!
Thanks to whoever may care for this tasty plate of herring.
Yesterday swimming swift in a salty sea
and today silver offerings made to me!
So if you please won’t you pass me whatever’s still left of this tasty treat we’re sharing
’cause the truth is it tastes good. Um um um.
So commend singers down through the centuries,
cherished friends Wolfgang, Gustav, George, dear Lenny.
It seems to me that we all feel so close to the truth
in the notes our souls declaring
and the truth is it feels good. Um um um.
So many people calling out to one another,
help us to hear them, teach us that all men are brothers,
so many people, so many stories, so many questions,
so many blessings make us grateful whatever comes next
in this life on earth we’re sharing.
For the truth is life is good.
So many mem’ries…
Amen
About the Artist
Cooke opens the 2023–2024 season with a return to the San Francisco Opera, reprising the role of Laurene Jobs in Mason Bates’s The (R)evolution of Steve Jobs, which won the 2019 Grammy for Best Opera Recording. She makes role debuts as Brangäne in Tristan und Isolde at Opéra de Rouen and as Donna Elvira in Don Giovanni at Houston Grand Opera, conducted by Dame Jane Glover. She sings world premieres by Joby Talbot and Gene Scheer in The Diving Bell and the Butterfly at Dallas Opera and by Scott Ordway in a song cycle on the Stanford Live series. In concert, Cooke returns to the San Francisco Symphony for Pulcinella, Oregon Symphony and Orchestra dell’Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia for Messiah, and performs and records Corigliano’s One Sweet Morning with Nashville Symphony. Cooke gives recitals at the Chamber Music Society of Palm Beach with John Churchwell, at the Cleveland Institute of Music alongside pianist Kirill Kuzmin and guitarist Jason Vieaux, and at Stanford Live with Laura Dahl and members of the St. Lawrence String Quartet. Learn more about Cooke.
Jessica Chow Shinn, piano, joined the Conservatory in 2018 and is an associate professor of collaborative piano. She is the cofounder and co-artistic director of the pianoSonoma Music Festival. Started in 2011, this unique festival brings together artists in residence—dynamic and innovative professional performers—with adult musicians of all backgrounds, to collaborate and perform in private and public concerts and community workshops across the country.
Passionate advocates of new music, Shinn and her husband, pianist and Boston Conservatory Interim Executive Director Michael Shinn, have commissioned and given world premieres of works by composers such as Thomas Cabaniss, Adam Schoenberg, and Shelbie Rassler (B.M. '20, composition). Upcoming engagements include a performance of The Beatles Concerto (for two pianos and orchestra) by John Rutter in December 2024 with the Wisconsin Chamber Orchestra. She has been a featured guest at the Pebble Beach Authors and Ideas Festival, where she has performed and spoken about the role of the arts in society.
Dr. Shinn was a faculty member at the Juilliard School from 2012 to 2017, where she also received her doctorate. She is a Yamaha Artist. Learn more about Shinn.
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Concert Production Manager – Kendall Floyd
Performance Technology Technicians – Sara Pagiaro, Goran Daskalov
Boston Conservatory thanks audience members for viewing this program information online. This paperless program saved 130 sheets of paper, 14 gallons of water, and 12 pounds of CO2-equivalent greenhouse gas emissions.
Streaming Live from Seully HallThe event will appear here during its scheduled time.