Zoey, along with her voice teacher (the one we pay, not her teacher at school) Camila Arnold, and Bill went to Pepperland Recording Studio to get three songs down for Zoey's conservatory audition CD.
Mr Renner, the producer/arranger/owner of the studio apparently is a Beatles fan and had quite a bit of memorabilia, as well as buddhist items, in the studio (and thus the name.)
It was quite amazing for me to hear the finished product. I have heard Zoey sing with the Madrigals, in musicals and at home in the shower, but to hear her voice in a studio setting with professional background music and the other extra little touches brought tears to my eyes. I know nothing about music and feel a bit lost when she shares her experiences, thoughts and knowledge with me, but hearing Zoey sing on this recording quieted any doubts or concerns I might have had about her pursuing a musical education in college and in life. Her voice is beautiful and she is wonderful and I feel so grateful to know that she has a passion and she is able to feed it and follow it.
Zoey recorded:
file:///Users/tanyazturek/Desktop/01%20Track%2001.m4a
Se Tu M'ami by Alessandro Scarlatti (arie antiche)
Se tu m'ami , se tu sospiri
sol per me, gentil pastor,
ho dolor dei tuoi martiri,
ho diletto del tuo amor.
Ma se pensi che soletto
io ti debba riamar,
pastorello, sei soggetto
facilmente a t'ingannar.
pastorello, sei soggetto
facilmente a t'ingannar
facilmente a t'ingannar
sol per me, gentil pastor,
ho dolor dei tuoi martiri,
ho diletto del tuo amor.
Ma se pensi che soletto
io ti debba riamar,
pastorello, sei soggetto
facilmente a t'ingannar.
pastorello, sei soggetto
facilmente a t'ingannar
facilmente a t'ingannar
Bella rosa porporina
oggi Silvia sceglierà,
con la scusa della spina
doman poi la sprezzerà.
doman poi la sprezzerà.
Ma degli uomini il consiglio
io per me non seguirò.
Non perchè mi piace il giglio
gli altri fiori sprezzerò
oggi Silvia sceglierà,
con la scusa della spina
doman poi la sprezzerà.
doman poi la sprezzerà.
Ma degli uomini il consiglio
io per me non seguirò.
Non perchè mi piace il giglio
gli altri fiori sprezzerò
Beau Soir by Debussy (Art Song)
Lorsque au soleil couchant les rivières sont roses
Et qu'un tiède frisson court sur les champs de blé,
Un conseil d'être heureux semble sortir des choses
Et monter vers le coeur troublé.
Et qu'un tiède frisson court sur les champs de blé,
Un conseil d'être heureux semble sortir des choses
Et monter vers le coeur troublé.
Un conseil de goûter le charme d'être au monde
Cependant qu'on est jeune et que le soir est beau,
Car nous nous en allons, comme s'en va cette monde:
Elle à la mer, nous au tombeau. Cependant qu'on est jeune et que le soir est beau,
Car nous nous en allons, comme s'en va cette monde:
Lass From the Low Countree
Oh, he was a lord of high degree
And she was a lass from the low countree
But she loved his lordship so tenderly.
Oh sorrow, sing sorrow
Now she sleeps in the valley where the wild flowers nod
And no one knows she loved him but herself and God
One morn when the sun was on the mead
He passed by her door on a milk white steed
She smiled and she spoke, but he paid no heed
Oh sorrow, sing sorrow
Now she sleeps in the valley where the wild flowers nod
And no one knows she loved him but herself and God
If you be a lass from the low countree
Don't love of no lord of high degree
They haint got a heart for sympathy
Oh sorrow, sing sorrow
Now she sleeps in the valley where the wild flowers nod
And no one knows she loved him but herself and Go d
And she was a lass from the low countree
But she loved his lordship so tenderly.
Oh sorrow, sing sorrow
Now she sleeps in the valley where the wild flowers nod
And no one knows she loved him but herself and God
One morn when the sun was on the mead
He passed by her door on a milk white steed
She smiled and she spoke, but he paid no heed
Oh sorrow, sing sorrow
Now she sleeps in the valley where the wild flowers nod
And no one knows she loved him but herself and God
If you be a lass from the low countree
Don't love of no lord of high degree
They haint got a heart for sympathy
Oh sorrow, sing sorrow
Now she sleeps in the valley where the wild flowers nod
And no one knows she loved him but herself and Go d
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