Phone: 917 693 5289

Email: will@willrobinsonx3.com

An introduction

This website is not only a professional digital resumé, but also in some ways a personal history. We hope it gives you a well-balanced portrait.

Will Robinson enjoys expressing his artistic sensibilities in three main disciplines: voice, piano, and composition. Being a solid musician, his vocal abilities are refined by his pianistic skills, and in turn, his piano playing carries the melodic vibrancy of a singer. This duality is also evident in his original compositions, which embrace both the beauty of the human voice as well as the harmonic complexities and textures available through the piano.

Will's piano skills therefore naturally include accompanying singers. His personal experience as a vocalist aids him well in supporting the singer and his/her very specific needs.

Will is based in New York City. The city is his first love, having moved to New York when he was 17. He has performed professionally as both singer and pianist throughout the New York metropolitan area and beyond for the past 28 years.

singer
Will Robinson graduated from The Mannes College of Music in 1989 with a Bachelor of Music in Voice. Will's baritone voice has a rich tone and that important "chiaroscuro" quality needed for classical music.

Because of his very real acting abilities, Will is able to give a very personal sense to his interpretations. This ability gives the audience an experience of intimacy and connection to the music.

His main operatic roles include Marcello (La Bohème), Malatesta (Don Pasquale), Papageno (The Magic Flute), Guglielmo (Così Fan Tutte), and Harlekin (Ariadne auf Naxos). A recipient of the Eleanor Steber Award for Excellence in Mozart, he has performed with:

For greater detail, please see resumé.

pianist
Will Robinson began studying piano at the age of 7, which started his life-long love of classical music. He studied privately with a wonderful teacher, Mary Hubbard of Ledyard, CT, whose tutelage helped him to develop a greater musicality and sensitivity. At age 17, he won second place in the Eastern Connecticut Symphony Youth Orchestra Competition playing Mozart's Piano Concerto no. 23 in A major.

Like most aspiring musicians, Will was ambitious to move to New York City, and so managed to leave high school a year early, graduating the following year. At music school, he began accompanying his fellow voice students at the piano. This he has continued to do til the present day and has been fortunate enough to be the pianist for several singers' solo vocal recitals.

He is currently a staff pianist for two music schools, Mannes College The New School for Music and the Academy of Music Arts.

For greater detail regarding his past engagements, please see resumé.

composer
Primarily a composer of art song, Will Robinson has his few favorite poets, Walt Whitman, Emily Dickinson, and Hart Crane. Following is a list of his original songs that are currently available.
Title Poet
Carrier Letter
Hart Crane
Interior Hart Crane
Reply Hart Crane
Sometimes with One I Love Walt Whitman
Almost Emily Dickinson
O Captain, my Captain! Walt Whitman
Voyages III
Hart Crane
One joy of so much anguish Emily Dickinson
Hope Emily Dickinson
Will there really be a morning? Emily Dickinson
Der Einsame
Rainer Maria Rilke
resumé

Will Robinson, baritone
Eric Sedgwick, piano
Song by Johannes Brahms

Sonntag
So hab' ich doch die ganze Woche
Mein feines Liebchen nicht geseh'n,
Ich sah es an einem Sonntag
Wohl vor der Türe steh'n:
Das tausendschöne Jungfräulein,             
Das tausendschöne Herzelein,
Wollte Gott, wollte Gott, ich wär' heute bei ihr!

So will mir doch die ganze Woche
Das Lachen nicht vergeh'n,
Ich sah es an einem Sonntag
Wohl in die Kirche geh'n:
Das tausendschöne Jungfräulein,
Das tausendschöne Herzelein,
Wollte Gott, wollte Gott, ich wär' heute bei ihr!

Sunday
This whole week, I have not
Seen my delicate sweetheart.
I saw her on Sunday,
Standing in front of the door:
That thousand-times beautiful girl,
That thousand-times beautiful heart,
Would, God, I were with her today!

This whole week, my laughing
Has not ceased;
I saw her on Sunday,
Going to church:
That thousand-times beautiful girl,
That thousand-times beautiful heart,
Would, God, I were with her today!


Will Robinson, baritone
Eric Sedgwick, piano
Song by Johannes Brahms

O wüßt ich doch den Weg zurück
O wüßt ich doch den Weg zurück,
Den lieben Weg zum Kinderland!
O warum sucht' ich nach dem Glück
Und ließ der Mutter Hand?

O wie mich sehnet auszuruhn,
Von keinem Streben aufgeweckt,
Die müden Augen zuzutun,
Von Liebe sanft bedeckt!

Und nichts zu forschen, nichts zu spähn,
Und nur zu träumen leicht und lind;
Der Zeiten Wandel nicht zu sehn,
Zum zweiten Mal ein Kind!

O zeig mir doch den Weg zurück,
Den lieben Weg zum Kinderland!
Vergebens such ich nach dem Glück,
Ringsum ist öder Strand!

Oh, if I only knew the road back
Oh, if I only knew the road back,
The dear road to childhood's land!
Oh, why did I search for happiness
And leave my mother's hand?

Oh, how I long to be at rest,
Not to be awakened by anything,
To shut my weary eyes,
With love gently surrounding!

And nothing to search for, nothing to beware of,
Only dreams, sweet and mild;
Not to notice the changes of time,
To be once more a child!

Oh, do show me the road back,
The dear road to childhood's land!
In vain I search for happiness,
Around me naught but deserted beach and sand!


Will Robinson, baritone
Eric Sedgwick, piano
Song by Johannes Brahms

Auf dem Kirchhofe
Der Tag ging regenschwer und sturmbewegt,
Ich war an manch [vergessenem]1 Grab gewesen,
Verwittert Stein und Kreuz, die Kränze alt,
Die Namen überwachsen, kaum zu lesen.

Der Tag ging sturmbewegt und regenschwer,
Auf allen Gräbern fror das Wort: Gewesen.
Wie sturmestot die Särge schlummerten,
Auf allen Gräbern taute still: Genesen.

In the churchyard
The day was heavy with rain and disturbed by storms;
I was walking among many forgotten graves,
with weathered stones and crosses, the wreaths old,
the names washed away, hardly to be read.

The day was disturbed by storms and heavy with rain;
on every grave froze the words "we were."
The coffins slumbered calmly like the eye of a storm,
and on every grave melted quietly the words: "we were healed."


Will Robinson, baritone
Eric Sedgwick, piano
Song by Will Robinson
Poem by Hart Crane

Carrier Letter
My hands have not touched water since your hands, -
No; - nor my lips freed laughter since 'farewell'.
And with the day, distance again expands
Between us, voiceless as an uncoiled shell.

Yet, - much follows, much endures… Trust birds alone:
A dove's wings clung about my heart last night
With surging gentleness; and the blue stone
Set in the tryst-ring has but worn more bright. 

Will Robinson, baritone
Eric Sedgwick, piano
Song by Will Robinson
Poem by Hart Crane

Voyages (III)
Infinite consanguinity it bears—
This tendered theme of you that light   
Retrieves from sea plains where the sky   
Resigns a breast that every wave enthrones;   
While ribboned water lanes I wind
Are laved and scattered with no stroke   
Wide from your side, whereto this hour   
The sea lifts, also, reliquary hands.

And so, admitted through black swollen gates   
That must arrest all distance otherwise,—
Past whirling pillars and lithe pediments,   
Light wrestling there incessantly with light,   
Star kissing star through wave on wave unto   
Your body rocking!
                            and where death, if shed,   
Presumes no carnage, but this single change,—
Upon the steep floor flung from dawn to dawn   
The silken skilled transmemberment of song;

Permit me voyage, love, into your hands ...   


Will Robinson, baritone
Eric Sedgwick, piano
Song by Will Robinson
Poem by Rainer Maria Rilke

Der Einsame
Wie einer, der auf fremden Meeren fuhr,
so bin ich bei den ewig Einheimischen;
die vollen Tage stehn auf ihren Tischen,
mir aber ist die Ferne voll Figur.

In mein Gesicht reicht eine Welt herein,
die vielleicht unbewohnt ist wie ein Mond,
sie aber lassen kein Gefühl allein,
und alle ihre Worte sind bewohnt.

Die Dinge, die ich weither mit mir nahm,
sehn selten aus, gehalten an das Ihre -:
in ihrer großen Heimat sind sie Tiere,
hier halten sie den Atem an vor Scham.

The Solitary Person
Among so many people cozy in their homes,
I am like a man who explores far-off oceans.
Days with full stomachs stand on their tables;
I see a distant land full of images.

I sense another world close to me,
Perhaps no more lived in than the moon;
They, however, never let a feeling alone,
And all the words they use are so worn.

The living things I brought back with me
Hardly peep out, compared with all they own.
In their native country they were wild;
Here they hold their breath from shame.