An interdisciplinary performance of early music and contemporary dance exploring lamentation, love and loss through Tarquinio Merula's sacred lullaby "Canzonetta spirituale sopra alla nanna"
Yonit Kosovske, harpsichord & artistic direction
Aisling Kenny, soprano
Sarah Groser, viola da gamba
Isabella Oberländer, dance & choreography
Lucy Dawson, videography & editing
Joe Ó Dubhghaill, sound recording & mixing
Jacob Woulfe & Gearóid O hAllmhuráin, lighting
Wolodymyr Smishkewych, co-production
Filmed and recorded in the Icon Chapel at Glenstal Abbey
Murroe, Co Limerick, Ireland
Funded by:
The Arts Council of Ireland Agility Award
Tipperary County Council’s Artist Award Scheme
Limerick Grants Under the Arts Act
Special thanks to the monks at Glenstal Abbey for their support.
©2022 Now and Then Media, Ltd.
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Canzonetta spirituale sopra alla nanna
Tarquinio Merula (1595-1665)
Now that it is time to sleep, sleep, my son, and do not weep,
for the time will soon arrive when crying is needed,
Oh my love, oh my dearest, fa la ninna na.
Close your divine eyes like other children do,
for soon the sky will be veiled in darkness.
Oh my love, oh my dearest, fa la ninna na.
Drink this milk from my pure breasts,
for the cruel officer is preparing vinegar and gall for you.
Oh my love, oh my dearest, fa la ninna na.
My love, let this breast be a cushion for you
before, with a loud voice,
you give your soul to your Father on the cross.
Oh my love, oh my dearest, fa la ninna na.
Rest now your beautiful tender limbs, so charming and tender,
for, later, irons and chains will inflict intense pain on them.
Oh my love, oh my dearest, fa la ninna na.
These hands and these feet
which now you behold with enthusiasm and joy alas how in so many ways,
will be pierced by sharp nails.
This graceful face, more crimson than a rose,
will be defiled with spit and cuffs, with torture and horrific suffering.
Ah, with such great pain, only hope of my heart,
will this head and this hair of yours be pierced by sharp thorns.
Ah, for in this sacred breast, my sweet and precious love,
will unholy and disloyal spears cause fatal wounds.
So sleep, my son, go to sleep, my Saviour,
because later with joy on our faces we will reunite in Paradise.
Now that you are sleeping, my life, complete joy of my heart,
let everything be quiet with pure devotion, even the earth and sky.
And, all the while, what will I do?
I will watch over my dear one,
and will keep my head bowed as long as my child sleeps.
Translation by Yonit Kosovske
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