To play the media you will need to either update your browser to a recent version or update your Flash plugin.
Welcome to Hyperion Records, an independent British classical label devoted to presenting high-quality recordings of music of all styles and from all periods from the twelfth century to the twenty-first.
Hyperion offers both CDs, and downloads in a number of formats. The site is also available in several languages.
Please use the dropdown buttons to set your preferred options, or use the checkbox to accept the defaults.
To a stranger
Passing stranger! you do not know how longingly I look upon you
In late July 1996 I visited my dear composer friend Marc Marder who lives in Paris. A superb bass player and prolific composer of chamber music, songs and film scores, this New York-born artist moved to France some years ago to raise his family and continue his musical career. I asked Marc to write me a piece on an American text—of his own choosing. Marc was leaving for Lyon that very weekend, but he got right to work and finished the music for Walt Whitman’s poem To a Stranger while travelling back and forth on the Paris-Lyon TGV I had gone on to Italy to perform at the Spoleto festival with pianisi Jean-Yves Thibaudet and other artists. When I received Marc’s fax of the song, I showed it to Jean-Yves who immediately placed it on the piano and read it through as I sang. We agreed that it was an excellent song. Marc Marder has given Whitman’s moving text a musical urgency and beauty of line that make the song a delight to sing.
Passing stranger! you do not know how longingly I look upon you, You must be he I was seeking, or she I was seeking, (it comes to me as of a dream,) I have somewhere surely lived a life of joy with you, All is recall’d as we flit by each other, fluid, affectionate, chaste, mature, You grew up with me, were a boy with me or a girl with me, I ate with you and slept with you, your body has become not yours only nor left my body mine only, You give me the pleasure of your eyes, face, flesh, as we pass, you take of my beard, breast, hands, in return, I am not to speak to you, I am to think of you when I sit alone or wake at night alone, I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again, I am to see to it that I do not lose you.