Dashon Burton

Dashon Burton, bass-baritone
Lindsay Garritson, piano

Sun, November 8, 2020, 3:00pm


This concert has been postponed due to New York State COVID-19 travel restrictions and quarantine guidance causing Dashon Burton and Lindsay Garritson to be unable to travel to Caramoor. Fortunately, we have been able to reschedule this performance for Sunday, March 21, 2021 at 3:00pm.

If you would like to have the value of your ticket refunded or exchanged for a different event, please feel free to contact us at 914.232.1252 or [email protected].

An original member of the innovative Grammy-winning vocal ensemble Roomful of Teeth, bass-baritone Dashon Burton is known for his “nobility and rich tone” (The New York Times). Showcasing his versatility, Burton’s recital with pianist Lindsay Garritson combines Schumann’s complete Dichterliebe with works by John Dowland, Charles Brown, Florence Price, Margaret Bonds, Ernest Charles and William Bolcom, and a set of spirituals.

“This young American singer is the real thing — a bass-baritone with a rich, rounded voice, faultless diction and a natural, expressive style” — Chicago Classical Review

Dashon Burton, bass-baritone
Lindsay Garritson, piano


Dowland In This trembling Shadow
Schumann Dichterliebe, Op. 48
Brown Song without words
Price Night
Bonds Three Dream Portraits
Traditional Sometimes I feel like a motherless child
Traditional I’ve Been in the storm
Traditional Crucifixion
Traditional My Lord, What a Morning
William Bolcom Blue
Charles When I Have Sung My Songs

All artists and dates are subject to change and cancellation without notice as we work closely with local health experts and officials. Please note that all performances and livestreams at Caramoor are in compliance with current New York State Regulations.

Dashon Burton

Dashon Burton, bass-baritone

Artist Website Watch Listen

Bass-baritone Dashon Burton has established a vibrant career in opera, recital, and with orchestra.  In key elements of his repertoire  — Bach’s Passions and the B Minor Mass, Mendelssohn’s Elijah, Beethoven 9, the Brahms Requiem, Handel’s Messiah, and Mozart’s Requiem — Dashon is a frequent guest with the major orchestras of the United States, Europe, and Japan.

In the 2019–20 season, he performed these works and others with the Minnesota and National Arts Centre Orchestras, the St. Louis and San Francisco Symphonies, the New York Philharmonic, and the St. Paul Chamber Orchestra. A frequent guest of the Cleveland Orchestra, this season Burton sings Michael Tilson Thomas’ Rilke Songs there, led by the composer. In the fall, Dashon sings the world premiere of Caroline Shaw’s The Listeners (a part written by Shaw specifically for Burton), first with the Philharmonia Baroque and Nicholas McGegan, and then with Grant Llewellyn and the North Carolina Symphony.

Opera engagements include Sarastro in Die Zauberflöte in Dijon and Paris, and Jupiter in Rameau’s Castor et Pollux with Les Talens Lyriques; Strauss’ Salome at the Salzburg Festival (led by Franz Welser-Möst in a production by Romeo Castellucci), and Peter Sellars’s production of Claude Vivier’s Kopernikus, un ritual de mort at Paris’ Théatre de la Ville.

Burton continues as a Resident Artist this season with San Francisco Performances, and sings recitals throughout the US, including a program based on works from his album Songs and Struggles of Redemption; We Shall Overcome, singled out by The New York Times as “profoundly moving … a beautiful and lovable disc.” Dashon is an original member of the groundbreaking vocal ensemble, Roomful of Teeth, with whom he won a Grammy for their recording of Caroline Shaw’s Pulitzer-Prizewinning Partita for 8 Voices.


Lindsay Garritson

Lindsay Garritson, piano

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Pianist Lindsay Garritson has performed throughout the United States and abroad since the age of four. She has appeared on stages such as Carnegie Hall, the Kennedy Center, and Place des Arts (Montreal), and has been featured as soloist with the Phoenix Symphony Orchestra, Charleston Symphony Orchestra, Eastern Connecticut Symphony Orchestra, Las Colinas Symphony Orchestra (Texas), Orchestre Métropolitain (Montreal), Atlantic Classical Orchestra, Orquestra Sinfônica Barra Mansa (Brazil), the Yale Philharmonic Orchestra, and the European Philharmonic Orchestra, among others.

An award-winning performer, Lindsay has received top prizes at the Montreal International Piano Competition, USASU Bösendorfer International Piano Competition, and the Mozarteum International Chopin Competition (Salzburg). She was invited as one of thirty participants internationally to compete in the 2013 Van Cliburn International Piano Competition, and she was selected as one of six finalists worldwide for the 2014 German Piano Award in Frankfurt, Germany.

An avid chamber musician, Lindsay has performed with Ani Kavafian, Elmar Oliveira, Carter Brey, Ettore Causa, and Ian Rosenbaum, among many others. She is currently a member of the Bergonzi Piano Trio with violinist Scott Flavin and cellist Ross Harbaugh, and their first album of Beethoven and Brahms trios will be released in the spring of 2020. Since 2018, she has been a collaborative pianist for the prestigious Steans Institute at the Ravinia Festival.

Lindsay is a passionate advocate for new music, and her Carnegie Hall solo recital debut in November 2019 featured the world premiere of Carl Vine’s Piano Sonata No. 4, a work written for her. Additionally, her second solo album titled Aphorisms: Piano Music of Carl Vine was just released. She has also recorded the complete works for flute and piano by Samuel Zyman (Albany Records, 2020), and premiered works by composers David Ludwig, Nick Omiccioli, and Polina Nazaykinskaya.

Lindsay holds degrees from Principia College (B.A. in Music) and Yale School of Music (M.M. and Artist Diploma). Her piano teachers include Boris Berman, Luiz de Moura Castro, Choong-Mo Kang, Zena Ilyashov, Emilio Del Rosario, the late Jane Allen, and Jennifer Lim Judd. Lindsay currently resides in Miami, Florida, where she is completing a doctorate at the University of Miami as a student of Santiago Rodriguez.

About the Music.

At a Glance

A potpourri of art songs and spirituals, the program that Dashon Burton and Lindsay Garritson have chosen is nicely balanced between the Old World and the New. It opens with a piece by John Dowland, a peerless songwriter and virtuoso lutenist who transformed the conventional themes of Elizabethan poetry into miniature lyrical masterpieces.

Schumann similarly epitomized the spirit of the Romantic era in his affinity for small-scale musical forms and lyrical utterances; his impulsive genius found its most distinctive expression in short character pieces for the piano and art songs, such as the 16 ruminations on unrequited love that comprise his song cycle Dichterliebe.

The middle section of the program highlights the diverse musical heritage of Black Americans. In addition to a group of traditional “spiritual songs,” Burton and Garritson will perform a wordless vocalise inspired by the artistry of the gospel-blues singer and guitarist Blind Willie Johnson, as well as four songs in the European concert-hall tradition written by two singularly gifted women, Florence Price and Margaret Bonds. Like other marginalized African-American composers, until recently both were largely written out of the history of 20th-century classical music: the dual impact of sexism and racism helped ensure that most of Price’s music remained unpublished for decades after her death.

Rounding out the recital are a pair of songs by (white, male, American) composers who deftly straddled the none-too-clear line between classical and popular music.


The Program

In This Trembling Shadow(1784)

Dowland was the greatest songwriter of the Elizabethan age. A master lutenist, he served the Danish crown in that capacity but failed to win a position at the English court until he was nearly 50. The repeated rejections embittered the composer and may be one source of his famously melancholy disposition. Many of Dowland’s songs deal with conventional themes — love, the joys of springtime, and so on — but a significant number are much darker, even morbid, in tone. The tortured chromaticism of In This Trembling Shadow is emblematic of the song’s spiritual intensity, culminating in praise of God’s “boundless power.”


Dichterliebe,Op. 48(1862)

Schumann’s prolific output of lieder — he wrote more than 400 songs in the course of his career — was concentrated in two prodigious bursts of productivity at the beginning and end of the 1840s. In the 17 months between May 1840 and September 1841 alone — the period he called his Liederjahr, or “song year” — he published no fewer than eight sets of songs and composed dozens more, including the 16 short lyrics to texts by Heinrich Heine that are collectively titled Dichterliebe (Poet’s Love). Like virtually all the music Schumann composed in the 1830s and early 1840s, Dichterliebe was in part a cryptic love letter to Clara Wieck, even if the cycle’s overarching theme of unrequited love scarcely applied to them. Although the young lovers were forbidden to see each other by Clara’s domineering father, who remained obdurately opposed to his underaged daughter’s marriage, they had long since plighted their troths in secret and would become husband and wife a few weeks later, in September 1840.

Dichterliebe was part of Schumann’s long-term plan to achieve financial independence — and perhaps a measure of legitimacy in the eyes of his future father-in-law — by achieving recognition in a popular genre for which there was a brisk demand among both amateur and professional musicians. Much like Schumann himself, one supposes, the nameless titular poet of Dichterliebe careens wildly between moonstruck rapture, steely defiance, and self-pitying despondency. The cycle’s subliminal dramatic narrative — which necessarily involves a good deal of reading between the lines of Heine’s deceptively simple verses — guides protagonist and listener along a winding path from infatuation to disillusionment. Schumann presents the poems in more or less the same sequence as they first appeared in Heine’s Lyrisches Intermezzo (Lyrical Intermezzo) of 1823, opening with the budding springtime romance of Im wunderschönen Monat Mai and closing with Die alten, bösen Lieder, in which the long-suffering poet sternly resolves to bury his dreams along with his “old, evil songs.”

In keeping with his stated goal as a lieder composer of “produc[ing] a resonant echo of the poem and its smallest features,” Schumann garbs Heine’s no-frills poetic designs in equally unpretentious musical dress — mostly simple strophic or symmetrical ABA song forms, with contrasting midsections. Several songs end with ruminative piano solos that hint at a world of feeling where the poet’s words leave off. Schumann’s accompaniments, with their imaginatively varied figurations and harmonic twists, deftly capture the mood of each song and highlight the dramatic contrasts between them.

Thus, the breathless ecstasy of Die Rose, die Lilie, a sunny catalogue of garden delights, gives way to tender languor in Wenn ich in deine Augen she, as the lovesick poet rests his head on his sweetheart’s breast. The driving, grimly determined eighth-note pulse of Ich grolle nicht — deservedly the most popular song in the cycle — dissolve into fluttery palpitations in Und wüßten’s die Blumen, while the giddily dancing rhythms of Das ist ein Flöten und Geigen are juxtaposed with the trudging, grief-laden phrases of Hör’ ich das Liedchen klingen. Before bitterly forswearing his dream of happiness in the final song, the poet passes from stark despair (Ich hab’ im Traum geweinet) through transient mirages of hope (Allnächtlich im Traume) and fairy-tale bliss (Aus alten Märchen winkt es). Yet Schumann closes the cycle on an uplifting note, with a long, rhapsodic piano postlude whose gently cascading arpeggios echo the consolatory gestures of the 12th song, Am leuchtenden Sommermorgen.


Song Without Words (1907)

“Dark was the night, cold was the ground on which my Lord was laid”: so begins a popular 19th-century hymn, originally alluding to the crucifixion. In the early 20th century, the Texas bluesman and gospel singer Blind Willie Johnson transformed Dark Was the Night into a wordless African-American lament, accompanying himself on bottleneck guitar in a style known as “unison moaning.” Charles F. Brown, another Texas-born gospel songwriter, captured the essence of Johnson’s hummed wailings in this soulful vocalise for voice and piano, replete with swooning blue notes and soft, shimmering, delicately evocative harmonies.



As an African-American woman in the field of classical music, Florence Price was doubly challenged. “I have two handicaps — those of sex and race,” she wrote matter-of-factly to the conductor Serge Koussevitsky in 1943. Although the Chicago Symphony had premiered the first of her four symphonies 10 years earlier, and her music was championed by Marian Anderson and other singers, Price was forced to eke out a living by composing popular songs, teaching piano, and making arrangements for a Chicago radio station. Night, among her best and most frequently performed songs, is characterized by its polychromatic harmonies and French-flavored vocal line, set against a rocking accompaniment.


Three Dream Portraits

A pupil and ally of Florence Price in Chicago, Margaret Bonds cultivated a long and fruitful partnership with Langston Hughes. Over some four decades, they collaborated on a wide variety of musical projects, including a Christmas cantata titled The Ballad of the Brown King and a theatrical version of the poet’s Shakespeare in Harlem. In the late 1950s, at the height of the civil rights movement, Bonds set three poems from Hughes’s 1932 collection The Dream Keeper, in which he wrote movingly of black Americans’ need to protect their “heart melodies” from the “too-rough fingers of the world.” By turns raging and resigned in mood, the Three Dream Portraits capture the pain and pride that commingle in Hughes’s poetry, ending in his Whitmanesque declaration that “I, too, am America.”


Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child

The roots of the African-American spiritual run deeper than the arrival of the first enslaved Africans in North America in 1619. As Hall Johnson wrote in his classic study of the spiritual, while the early European settlers “thought of music only for church worship and other special occasions,” the African slaves “came from a long tradition of functional music in daily use in lieu of the written word.” One of the most eloquent and powerful specimens of the genre, Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child highlights what the late Moses Hogan called the “intertwined strands of sorrow and hope” that course throughout the songs of slaves and their descendants.


I’ve Been in the Storm

No one did more to bring the vernacular spiritual into the mainstream of classical music than Henry T. Burleigh. One of more than 150 African Americans who studied at New York’s National Conservatory of Music during the brief and enlightened directorship of Antonín Dvořák in the early 1890s, he is credited with introducing the Czech composer to the indigenous American music that Dvořák incorporated into his “New World” Symphony. Burleigh went on to become a distinguished composer in own right. Typical of his sensitive concert arrangements is I’ve Been in the Storm, with its stoical minor-key refrain pierced by faint flickerings of hope.



My Lord, What a Mornin’

This pair of classic spirituals exemplify what the sociologist W. E. B. DuBois called “sorrow songs.” Lamentation is central to Crucifixion, with its dolorous, lightly syncopated refrain “And he never said a mumbalin’ word.” But the apocalyptic imagery of My Lord, What a Mornin’ is equally sorrowful, as suggested by the alternative spelling “mournin’.” For DuBois, the spiritual was fundamentally an expression of faith: “Through all the sorrow of the Sorrow Songs there breathes a hope — a faith in the ultimate justice of things. The minor cadences of despair change often to triumph and calm confidence. Sometimes it is faith in life, sometimes a faith in death, sometimes assurance of boundless justice in some fair world beyond.”

(b. 1938)

Cabaret Songs, Vol. IV: Blue

William Bolcom was in the vanguard of younger American composers who parted ways with the European-dominated new-music mainstream in the 1960s and 1970s. A card-carrying serialist in his early years, he parlayed his love of popular songs, ragtime, and other vernacular musics into a productive career as both composer and pianist. Blue is the last of two dozen Cabaret Songs that Bolcom wrote over more than 30 years with his long-time wordsmith, Arnold Weinstein. Smart and sophisticated, yet at the same time artless and unabashedly sentimental, the music and lyrics are perfectly matched.


When I have sung my songs

Many people discovered — or rediscovered — this evergreen ballad when Meryl Streep sang it at the close of her recent cinematic salute to the inimitable Florence Foster Jenkins. But generations of singers have made Ernest Charles’s affecting love song their own, from Jussi Björling and Rosa Ponselle to Elizabeth Connell and Renée Fleming. A native of Minnesota, Charles briefly pursued a performing career on Broadway before enjoying a longer run as a composer of popular art songs in a crowd-pleasingly traditional vein. Short and uncloyingly sweet, When I have sung my songs has long been popular as an encore piece.

— Harry Haskell