Sunday, May 14, 2017, at 5:00 pm m o Carolyn …greatperformers.lincolncenter.org/assets/img/downloads/05-14...POULENC Fleurs (1939) FAURÉ Le papillon et la fleur, Op. 1 (1861) Fleur

Sunday, May 14, 2017, at 5:00 pm

Art of the Song

Carolyn Sampson, SopranoJoseph Middleton, Piano

Fleurs

Please hold applause until the end of each set of songs.

This performance is made possible in part by the Josie Robertson Fund for Lincoln Center.

The

Prog

ram

Steinway PianoAlice Tully HallStarr Theater, Adrienne Arsht Stage

Please make certain all your electronic devices are switched off.

(Program continued)

Great Performers

Support is provided by Rita E. and Gustave M. Hauser, Audrey Love Charitable Foundation,Great Performers Circle, Chairman’s Council, and Friends of Lincoln Center.

Public support is provided by the New York State Council on the Arts with the support ofGovernor Andrew M. Cuomo and the New York State Legislature.

Endowment support for Symphonic Masters is provided by the Leon Levy Fund.

Endowment support is also provided by UBS.

American Airlines is the Official Airline of Lincoln Center

Nespresso is the Official Coffee of Lincoln Center

NewYork-Presbyterian is the Official Hospital of Lincoln Center

UPCOMING GREAT PERFORMERS EVENT:

Sunday, May 21 at 11:00 am in the Walter Reade TheaterEsther Yoo, violin (U.S. recital debut)Robert Koenig, pianoMENDELSSOHN: Sonata in F majorDEBUSSY: Sonata for violin and pianoGLAZUNOV: Grand Adagio from Raymonda, Op. 57TCHAIKOVSKY: Valse-scherzo in C major, Op. 34

For tickets, call (212) 721-6500 or visit LCGreatPerformers.org. Call the Lincoln Center InfoRequest Line at (212) 875-5766 to learn about program cancellations or to request a GreatPerformers brochure.

Visit LCGreatPerformers.org for more information relating to this season’s programs.

Join the conversation: #LCGreatPerfs

We would like to remind you that the sound of coughing and rustling paper might distract the performers and your fellow audience members.

In consideration of the performing artists and members of the audience, those who mustleave before the end of the performance are asked to do so between pieces. The takingof photographs and the use of recording equipment are not allowed in the building.

FleursWhat's in a name?

That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.

PURCELL Sweeter than roses (1695) (arr. Britten) SCHUMANN Meine Rose (1850) Röselein, Röselein!, from Sechs Gesänge, Op. 89 (1850) QUILTER Damask Roses (1908) BRITTEN The Nightingale and the Rose, from The Poet’s Echo, Op. 76 (1965) GOUNOD Le temps des roses (1886) FAURÉ Les roses d’Ispahan (1884)

Strauss’s Flowermaidens

STRAUSS Das Rosenband (1897) Mädchenblumen, Op. 22 (1886–88)

Kornblumen Mohnblumen Epheu Wasserrose

Intermission

When Blooms Speak

SCHUBERT Die Blumensprache (c. 1817) Im Haine (c. 1822–23)

SCHUMANN Jasminenstrauch (1840) Die Blume der Ergebung (1850) Schneeglöckchen (1849)

Un bouquet français

POULENC Fleurs (1939) FAURÉ Le papillon et la fleur, Op. 1 (1861) Fleur jetée (1884) HAHN Offrande (1891) DEBUSSY De fleurs, from Proses lyriques (1893) LILI BOULANGER Les lilas qui avaient fleuri (1914) CHABRIER Toutes les fleurs (1889)

Please hold applause until the end of each set of songs.

Great Performers | The Program

Great Performers

By Carolyn Sampson

Flowers have inspired generations of poetsand composers. Using their botanical mysteryand charm to convey, or indeed personify amyriad of emotions, these songs often seekto express feelings and gestures from whichmankind would otherwise shy away. In life wegive flowers to show affection or regret, andwe celebrate with flowers just as we usethem to commemorate bereavement. Thesongs here represent a similar diversity,through musical styles, languages, andaffects which, linked by our flowery theme,give us the opportunity to show our sympathytowards both the “darker” songs, such asBritten’s The Nightingale and the Rose, andthe “lighter” ones, such as Fauré’s Le papillonet la fleur.

I am extremely lucky to have JosephMiddleton with whom to make music. It washe who came up with the idea for this floralprogram, which we perform in concert todayexactly as it was conceived for my debutrecital album.

—Copyright © 2017 by Carolyn Sampson

Art

ist’s

Not

e

1817Schubert’s “DieBlumensprache”Jane Austin publishesPersuasion.

1914Lili Boulanger’s “Les lilasqui avaient fleuri”Gertrude Stein publishesTender Buttons.

1965Britten’s “The Nightingaleand the Rose”Alex Haley publishes TheAutobiography of Malcom X.

1817The element lithium is discovered.

1914Robert Goddard patents botha multi-stage and a liquid-fuelrocket.

1965President Johnson’s scienceadvisory committee warnsthat pollutants have alteredcarbon dioxide content on aglobal scale.

1817New York Stock Exchange isformed.

1914Margaret Sanger coins theterm “birth control” in anewsletter launch.

1965The Beatles play SheaStadium.

SCIENCE

ARTS

IN NEW YORK

Timeframe

Great Performers I Notes on the Program

Not

es o

n th

e Pr

ogra

mBy Richard Stokes

Henry Purcell’s “Sweeter than roses” is an aria sung by Pandora inRichard Norton’s tragedy Pausanias (1695). It begins, like several Purcellsongs, on a sustained note, which then develops into a drooping phrase.The whole piece, with its strangely accentuated melodic contours, isdescribed by Ian Spink in his book English Song–Dowland to Purcell as“unmistakably erotic and as highly charged as anything in Wagner orStrauss.” “Meine Rose” expresses the poet Lenau’s wish silently topour out his soul to succor his grieving sweetheart—“Meine Rose” ofthe title—in the same way that poured water can revive the rose. RobertSchumann’s drooping melodies in the voice and piano suggest, how-ever, that his efforts will be in vain. The message of “Röselein,Röselein!” is that there are no roses without thorns and that life has itsdark side. Such a theme appealed to Schumann, as we hear from theshift from A major to C major at “Ich erwacht’ und schaute drein,” whichmirrors the poet’s wakening from his rapturous dream.

Roger Quilter’s “Damask Roses” comes from his Seven ElizabethanLyrics (1908). When the anonymous poet beholds his beloved’s lipsagainst a background of roses, he asks quizzically “Whether the rosesbe your lips, or your lips the roses”—a conceit to which the composerresponds by modulating from C major to E flat. Benjamin Britten’s ThePoet’s Echo, from which Carolyn Sampson and Joseph Middleton per-form “The Nightingale and the Rose,” was composed in 1965 forGalina Vishnevskaya and set to texts by the Russian poet AlexanderPushkin. The major seconds of the piano accompaniment throbthroughout the song and represent not just the nightingale’s song, butalso the poet’s heart: His loneliness is magically conveyed by Brittenthrough the clusters of two sixteenth notes that are always followedby a tiny eighth-note rest.

Gounod’s “Le temps des roses,” composed when he was 67, adopts aconsciously madrigal style: There is a delicious grace about the vocal line,supported by an accompaniment that seems to dance in a courtly man-ner. Gabriel Fauré’s setting of Leconte de Lisle’s “Les roses d’Ispahan”allows nothing to disturb the languorous beauty of the text (he omittedtwo stanzas that disturbed the serene mood), and his depiction ofLeilah, among the moss-roses of Persia, the jasmine, and the orangeblossoms, is one of the most exotic songs in the French repertoire.

Richard Strauss very rarely chose a song-text that had already been setby the great lieder composers who preceded him, but in 1897 hedecided to tackle “Das Rosenband,” a poem by Klopstock thatBeethoven had wrestled with in his sketchbooks, and which Schuberthad set in 1815. Klopstock’s original title was “Cidli,” his affectionatename for Meta Möller, to whom he was married for four happy years.He addressed many poems to her, none more tender than “Das


Rosenband,” which describes how the lover chains his beloved with roses while she is sleeping. Strauss’s full-blown version was actually con-ceived for orchestra, with shifting tonalities, wide-spanned phrases, and an extraordinary melisma on the final “Elysium.” The poems of his Mädchen -blumen are by Felix Dahn, a once celebrated writer of Professorenromane—a somewhat derogatory term for meticulously researched historical novelsthat lack imagination. The poems chosen by Strauss are somewhat saccharinein tone, and he seemed aware of the problematic nature of his settings, sinceon December 7, 1889, he wrote to his publisher, Eugen Spitzweg:

I have finished another volume of songs, but they are very complicatedand such curious experiments that I believe I would be doing you a favor,if I foisted them on another publisher.

He finally entrusted the songs to Adolph Fürstner, who published them in1891. Despite Strauss’s qualms, Dahn’s poems inspired him to write sometouching music, particularly in “Kornblumen” and “Wasserrose,” while“Mohnblumen” shows the composer at his most brilliant, with strident trillsand unusual harmonic splashes that depict the aggressively joyful and ram-pant poppies.

Schubert’s “Die Blumensprache” is a delightful but little known song to apossibly anonymous poem. The text is transformed by Schubert into an exul-tant song in praise of spring, teeming with passionate triplets in the piano anddominated in the vocal line by an unrelenting dactylic rhythm. Franz vonBruchmann, the poet of “Im Haine,” was an intimate friend of Schubert’s dur-ing 1822, when this song was composed, and shared two of his Christiannames—Franz and Seraph. It is not known when they first met, but they wereclearly close from 1822 to 1824, when Schubertiades were held atBruchmann’s home, and Bruchmann attended others at Franz von Schober’s.Schubert’s undulating melody lilts along in 9/8, attempting to convey thedelights of lying in a pool of sunlight that filters through a fragrant fir forest.

The manuscripts of Schumann’s lieder occasionally contain personal state-ments that illuminate the song either musically or autobiographically, and inthe margin of “Jasminenstrauch,” he wrote that he was attempting to findmusic for the stirrings of nature and the symbolism of human love. The jas-mine, we are told, was green when it went to sleep (sixteenth notes in thepiano suggest the breeze ruffling the jasmine blossom) but had turned whiteby dawn. “Die Blume der Ergebung,” a late song from 1850, breathes con-fidence in every bar. Rückert’s poem describes a flower in the garden waitingfor its lover to appear, and the beautiful melody of the serene piano preludeand its subsequent development catches the girl’s quiet confidence to perfec-tion. Though the composition of Schumann’s Liederalbum für die Jugend wasbegun in Dresden in the midst of the 1848 Revolution, “Schneeglöckchen”is all delicacy, and Schumann expresses the “bell of snow ringing in the silentwoods” by using the high register of the piano accompaniment.

Francis Poulenc wrote the following words about “Fleurs,” the final song ofFiançailles pour rire, in his Journal de mes mélodies: “I believe that there issuch melancholy here that after the first bars the listener will assign to thesong its role of coda. It should be sung with humility, the lyricism coming fromwithin.” Fauré’s “Le papillon et la fleur,” composed while he was still ateenager, is the first of his many Hugo settings. This charming mélodie with itsscintillating accompaniment, though marked allegretto or allegro non troppo, isoften performed too fast, thus ignoring the vulnerability of the poet’s young,nascent love. There is nothing in Fauré quite like “Fleur jetée.” Composed toa poem by Armand Silvestre, it shows that beneath Fauré’s gentle exteriorthere was a vulnerable soul, capable of intense suffering. Reynaldo Hahn’s“Offrande” (Verlaine’s original title was “Green”) sets a poem fromRomances sans paroles. Whereas Fauré and Debussy set the poem as breath-less love songs, Hahn’s simple setting of listless pianissimo half notes isarguably truer to Verlaine’s text, which is not so much a celebration of passionas a doomed attempt at reconciliation with his young wife whom he had aban-doned for Rimbaud. Debussy’s “De fleurs” treats the Baudelairean theme ofennui, associated here with the sultry atmosphere of a greenhouse: The poet’ssoul is dissolving, suffocated by the evil flowers—the sun that breeds suchheavy scents overpowers his dreams and smothers his creativity. The tonalharmonies of the major and minor chords and the slow tempo of the beginningexpress the poem’s prevalent mood of torpor. As the poet grows more frus-trated, the song becomes dramatic, but it dies away, as the minor and majortriads reappear to suggest the soul’s reluctant acceptance of ennui.

“Les lilas qui avaient fleuri” is the ninth song of Lili Boulanger’s Clairièresdans le ciel, a long cycle with Wagnerian overtones to poems by FrancisJammes which recall his affection for a young girl who suddenly disappearedfrom his life. Boulanger must have empathized with the heroine, as we seefrom this song that conjures up the flowering lilacs of the previous year anddescribes the girl as “frail”: Boulanger herself suffered from Crohn’s diseaseand died in her mid-twenties. This floral program ends with EmmanuelChabrier’s “Toutes les fleurs” to a text by Edmond Rostand, the husband ofRosemonde Gérard who wrote those wonderful animal poems that Chabrierwas to make famous. “Toutes les fleurs,” marked appassionato, con fuoco,manages to mock the sentimentalities of the drawing-room ballad, while atthe same time expressing true tenderness.

Richard Stokes is professor of lieder at the Royal Academy of Music inLondon. He has published books on French, German, and Spanish song, andhas made singing translations of a number of operas for English NationalOpera, including Wozzeck, Lulu, Parsifal, and La Voix Humaine. His mostrecent book, The Penguin Book of English Song: Seven Centuries of Poetryfrom Chaucer to Auden, was published in 2016.

—Copyright © 2014 by Richard Stokes. Reprinted with permission of the author.


Great Performers I Texts and Translations

Meine RoseText: Nikolaus Lenau

Dem holden Lenzgeschmeide,Der Rose, meiner Freude,Die schon gebeugt und blasserVom heißen Strahl der Sonnen,Reich’ ich den Becher WasserAus tiefem Bronnen.

Du Rose meines Herzens!Vom stillen Strahl des SchmerzensBist du gebeugt und blasser;Ich möchte dir zu Füßen,Wie dieser Blume Wasser,Still meine Seele gießen!Könnt’ ich dann auch nicht sehenDich auferstehen.

Röselein, Röselein!Text: Friedrich Wilhelm TraugottSchöpff

Röselein, Röselein,Müssen denn Dornen sein?Schlief am schatt’gen BächeleinEinst zu süssem Träumen ein,Sah in goldner Sonne-ScheinDornenlos ein Röselein,Pflückt’ es auch und küsst’ es fein,“Dornloses Röselein!”

Ich erwacht’ und schaute drein:“Hatt’ ich’s doch! wo mag es sein?”Rings im weiten SonnenscheinStanden nur Dornröselein!Und das Bächlein lachte mein:“Lass du nur dein Träumen sein!Merk’ dir’s fein, merk’ dir’s fein,Dornröslein müssen sein!

My RoseTrans: Copyright © by Emily Ezust

To the lovely jewelry of Spring,to the rose, my delight,that is already bowing and turning palefrom the hot beams of the sun,I reach out a cup of waterfrom a deep well.

You rose of my heart!From the silent beam of painyou bow and turn pale;at your feet, I would like,as this flower water does,to silently pour my soul out,even if I then might not seeyou rise.

Little Rose, Little Rose!Trans: Copyright © by Judith Kellock

Little rose, little rose,must you have thorns?I fell asleep once by a shady brooklet,and had such a sweet dream.I saw in the golden sunshinea rose without thorns.I picked it and delicately kissed it,“Thornless rose!”

I woke up and looked around,“If it were only here. Where can it be?”All around in the sunlightthere were only roses with thorns!And the brooklet laughed at me;“Leave off with your dreaming,mark this well, mark this well,roses will always have thorns.”

Sweeter than rosesSweeter than roses, or cool evening breezeon a warm flowery shore, was the dear kiss,first trembling made me freeze,Then shot like fire all o’er.What magic has victorious love!For all I touch or see since that dear kiss,I hourly prove, all is love to me.


Les temps des rosesText: Claude Loron

Chantons, voici le temps des roses!

Voici la saison des amours!Mai nous ramène les beaux joursEt mille autres charmantes choses

Qui ne peuvent durer toujours!Chantons, voici le temps des roses!

Rions! Voici le temps des roses!

Avec les belles sous les bois,Allons courir, allons courir commeautrefois.

The Season of Roses

Let us sing: Here is the season ofroses!

Here is the season of love!May brings back the fine daysand thousands of other charmingthings

that cannot last forever!Let us sing: Here’s the season ofroses!

Let us laugh! Here is the season ofroses!

With our darlings, in the woods,let’s go and run like in the old days.

Damask RosesLady, when I behold the roses sprouting,which clad in damask mantles deck the arbours,and then behold your lips where sweet love harbours,my eyes present me with a double doubting;for, viewing both alike, hardly my mind supposeswhether the roses be your lips or your lips the roses.

(Please turn the page quietly.)

Solovej i rozaText: Alexander Pushkin

V bezmolvii sadov, vesnoj, vo mglenochej,

Pojot nad rozoju vostochnyj solovej.

No roza milaja ne chustvujet, nevnemlet,

I pod vljublennyj gimn kolebletsja Idremlet.

Ne tak li ty pojosh’ dlja khladnoj krasoty?

Opomnis’, o poet, k chemu strem-ish’sja ty?

Ona ne slushjet, ne chuvstvujetpoeta;

Gljadish’–ona cvetet; vzyvajesh’–net otveta.

The Nightingale and the RoseTrans.: Copyright © by Richard Stokes

In the gardens’ silence, in spring, innight’s darkness,

The eastern nightingale sings abovea rose.

But the sweet rose neither feels norlistens,

And sways and sleeps while thenightingale sings its hymn of love.

Is this not how you sing for somecold beauty?

Consider, O poet: for what do youstrive?

She does not heed the poet nordoes she feel him.

You gaze—she blossoms; you call toher—there is no reply.


Aux doux parfums des fleurs mi-closes,

Mêlons nos rires et nos voix!Rions, voici le temps des roses!

Aimons! Voici le temps des roses!

La beauté s’éveille au printemps.Et tous les coeurs sont palpitants.Pendant ces rapides instants,Aimons, car c’est le temps desroses!

Les roses d’IspahanText: Leconte de Lisle

Les roses d’Ispahan dans leur gaînede mousse,

Les jasmins de Mossoul, les fleursde l’oranger,

Ont un parfum moins frais, ont uneodeur moins douce,

Ô blanche Léïlah! que ton souffle léger.

Ta lèvre est de corail et ton rire léger

Sonne mieux que l’eau vive et d’unevoix plus douce.

Mieux que le vent joyeux qui bercel’oranger,

Mieux que l’oiseau qui chante aubord d’un nid de mousse.

Ô Leïlah! depuis que de leur volléger

Tous les baisers ont fui de ta lèvre sidouce

Il n’est plus de parfum dans le pâleoranger,

Ni de céleste arome aux roses dansleur mousse.

To the soft scent of half-openedflowers,

let’s blend our laughter and our voices!Let us laugh! Here is the season ofroses!

Let’s love! Here is the season ofroses!

Beauty wakes up in the Spring.And all hearts are quivering.During those quick moments,let’s love, for this is the season ofroses!

The Roses of IsfahanTrans: Copyright © 2000 by Peter Low

The roses of Ispahan in their sheathof moss,

the jasmines of Mosul, the orangeblossoms,

have a fragrance less fresh, anaroma less sweet,

O pale Leila, than your light breath!

Your lips are coral and your lightlaughter

has a softer and lovelier sound thanrippling water,

lovelier than the joyous breeze thatrocks the orange-tree,

lovelier than the bird that sings nearits nest of moss.

O Leila, ever since in their airy flight

all the kisses have fled from your lipsso sweet,

there is no longer any fragrance fromthe pale orange-tree,

nor heavenly aroma from the rosesin the moss.


Das RosenbandText: Friedrich Gottlieb Klopstock

Im Frühlingsschatten fand ich sie,Da band ich Sie mit Rosenbändern:Sie fühlt’ es nicht und schlummerte.

Ich sah sie an; mein Leben hingMit diesem Blick an ihrem Leben:Ich fühlt’ es wohl und wußt’ es nicht.

Doch lispelt’ ich ihr sprachlos zuUnd rauschte mit den Rosenbändern.Da wachte sie vom Schlummer auf.

Sie sah mich an; ihr Leben hingMit diesem Blick an meinem Leben,Und um uns ward’s Elysium.

The Rose GarlandTrans: Copyright © by Emily Ezust

In spring shade I found her,and bound her with rosy ribbons:She did not feel it and slumbered on.

I looked at her; my life hungwith that gaze on her life:I felt it well, but knew it not.

But I whispered wordlessly to herand rustled the rosy ribbons.Then she awoke from her slumber.

She looked at me; her life hungwith this gaze on my life:and around us it became Elysium.

Mädchenblumen Text: Felix Ludwig Julius Dahn

Kornblumen Kornblumen nenn ich die Gestalten,Die milden mit den blauen Augen,Die, anspruchslos in stillem Walten,Den Tau des Friedens, den sie saugenAus ihren eigenen klaren Seelen,Mitteilen allem, dem sie nahen,

Bewußtlos der Gefühlsjuwelen,Die sie von Himmelshand empfahn.

Dir wird so wohl in ihrer Nähe,Als gingst du durch ein Saatgefilde,

Durch das der Hauch des Abendswehe,

Voll frommen Friedens und vollMilde.

Maiden BlossomsTrans: Copyright © by Emily Ezust

CornflowersCornflowers I call these figuresthat gently, with blue eyes,preside quietly and modestly,placidly drinking the dew of peacefrom their own pure souls,communicating with everything thatis near,

unconscious of the precious sensitivitythat they have received from thehand of God.

You feel so good among them,as if you were going through a fieldof crops

through which the breath of eveningblew,

full of pious quietude and full of mildness.

Oh! que ton jeune amour, ce papil-lon léger,

Revienne vers mon coeur d’une aileprompte et douce.

Et qu’il parfume encor la fleur de l’oranger,

Les roses d’Ispahan dans leur gaînede mousse.

Oh, if only your youthful love, thatlight butterfly,

would return to my heart on swiftand gentle wings,

and perfume once more the orangeblossom

and the roses of Ispahan in theirsheath of moss.


MohnblumenMohnblumen sind die runden,Rotblutigen gesunden,Die sommersproßgebraunten,Die immer froh gelaunten,

Kreuzbraven, kreuzfidelen,Tanznimmermüden Seelen;Die unter’m Lachen weinenUnd nur geboren scheinen,

Die Kornblumen zu necken,Und dennoch oft versteckenDie weichsten, besten Herzen,Im Schlinggewächs von Scherzen;

Die man, weiß Gott, mit KüssenErsticken würde müssen,Wär’ man nicht immer bange,Umarmest du die Range,

Sie springt ein voller BranderAufflammend auseinander.

EpheuAber Epheu nenn’ ich jene MädchenMit den sanften Worten,

Mit dem Haar, dem schlichten, hellenum den leis’ gewölbten Brau’n,

Mit den braunen seelenvollenRehenaugen, die in Tränen steh’nso oft,

In ihren Tränen gerade sind unwider-stehlich;

Ohne Kraft und Selbstgefühl,

Schmucklos mit verborg’ner Blüte,Doch mit unerschöpflich tieferTreuer inniger Empfindung

Können sie mit eigner TriebkraftNie sich heben aus den Wurzeln,

Sind geboren, sich zu rankenLiebend um ein ander Leben:

An der ersten Lieb’umrankungHängt ihr ganzes Lebensschicksal,

Denn sie zählen zu den seltnenBlumen,Die nur einmal blühen.

PoppiesThey are poppies, those round,red-blooming, healthy onesthat bloom and bake in the summerand are always in a cheery mood,

good and happy as a king,their souls never tired of dancing;they weep beneath their smilesand seem born only

to tease the cornflowers;yet nevertheless,the softest, best hearts often hideamong the climbing ivy of jests;

God knows one would wish to suffocate them with kisseswere one not so afraidthat, embracing the hoyden,

she would spring up into a full blazeand go up in flames.

IvyBut ivy is what I call that maidenwith soft words,

with the simple, bright hair, gentlywaving brown about her,

with brown, soulful doe’s eyes,who so often stands in tears,

in her tears simply irresistible;

without strength and self-consciousness,unadorned with secret blossoms,

yet with an inexhaustible, deeptrue inner sentience

that under her own power she cannever yank herself up by the roots;

such are born to twinelovingly about another life:

Upon her first love she rests her entire life’s fate,

for she is counted among those rareflowers,those that only blossom once.


WasserroseKennst du die Blume, die märchenhafte,

Sagengefeierte Wasserrose?Sie wiegt auf ätherischem,schlankem Schafte

Das durchsicht’ge Haupt, das farbenlose,

Sie blüht auf schilfigem Teich imHaine,

Gehütet vom Schwan, der umkreisetsie einsam,

Sie erschließt sich nur demMondenscheine,

Mit dem ihr der silberne Schimmergemeinsam:

So blüht sie, die zaub’rischeSchwester der Sterne,

Umschwärmt von der träumerischdunklen Phaläne,

Die am Rande des Teichs sichsehnet von ferne,

Und sie nimmer erreicht, wie sehrsie sich sehne.

Wasserrose, so nenn’ ich dieschlanke,

Nachtlock’ge Maid, alabastern vonWangen,

In dem Auge der ahnende tiefeGedanke,

Als sei sie ein Geist und auf Erdengefangen.

Wenn sie spricht, ist’s wie silbernesWogenrauschen,

Wenn sie schweigt, ist’s dieahnende Stille der Mondnacht;

Sie scheint mit den Sternen Blickezu tauschen,

Deren Sprache die gleiche Natur siegewohnt macht;

Du kannst nie ermüden, in’s Aug’ ihrzu schau’n,

Das die seidne, lange Wimperumsäumt hat,

Und du glaubst, wie bezaubernd vonseligem Grau’n,

Was je die Romantik von Elfengeträumt hat.

WaterlilyDo you know the flower, the fantastic

waterlily, celebrated in myth?On a slim, ethereal stem bobs

its translucent, colorless head;

it blooms by reedy pools in groves,

protected by the swan, who circles itin solitary vigil;

it opens only in the moonlight

with which it shares its silver glimmer:

Thus does it bloom, the magical sister of the star,

idolized for its dreamy, dark tendrils

which by the edge of the pool canbe seen from afar,

never reaching what it yearns for.

Waterlily, so do I call the slim

maiden with night-dark locks andalabaster cheeks,

with deep foreboding thoughtsshowing in her eyes

as if they were ghosts imprisoned onEarth.

When she speaks, it is like the sil-very rushing of water;

when she is silent, it is the pregnantsilence of the moonlit night.

She seems to have exchanged radi-ant expressions with the stars,

whose language, of the same nature,she has grown accustomed to.

You can never grow weary of gazingin those eyes

fringed with silky, long lashes,

and you believe, as if blessedly, terri-fyingly bewitched,

whatever the Romantics havedreamed about Elves.

Intermission


Die Blumensprache

Es deuten die Blumen des HerzensGefühle,

Sie sprechen manch’ heimlichesWort,

Sie neigen sich traulich am schwank-enden Stiele,

Als zöge die Liebe sie fort.Sie bergen verschämt sich im deckenden Laube,

Als hätte verraten der Wunsch siedem Raube.

Sie deuten im leise bezauberndenBilde

Der Frauen, der Mädchen Sinn;Sie deuten das Schöne, die Anmut,die Milde,

Sie deuten des Lebens Gewinn:Es hat mit der Knospe, so heimlichverschlungen,

Der Jüngling die Perle der Hoffnunggefunden.

Sie weben der Sehnsucht, desHarmes Gedanken

Aus Farben ins duftige Kleid,

Nichts frommen der Trennung gehässige Schranken,

Die Blumen verkünden das Leid.Was laut nicht der Mund, derbewachte, darf sagen,

Das waget die Huld sich in Blumenzu klagen.

Sie winken in lieblich gewundenenKränzen

Die Freude zum festlichen Kreis,Wenn flatternd das ringelnde Haarsie umglänzen,

Dem Bacchus, der Venus zum Preis;Denn arm sind der Götter erfreuendeGaben,

Wenn Leier und Blumen das Herznicht erlaben.

The Language of FlowersTrans.: Copyright © 2016 by Laura Prichard

Flowers reveal the heart’s feelings,

they speak many a secret word,

they bow down confidentially onwavering stems,

as if love pulled them down.They hide coyly in the bedeckt arbor,

as though desire might betray themto a thief.

They revel, in a soft, enchantingimage,

the nature of women, of maidens;they reveal beauty, grace, gentleness,

they reveal life’s prize:It is in the bud, so secretly entwined,

where youth may win hope’s pearl.

They weave together thoughts oflonging and grief,

from colored strands into fragrantclothing,

nothing is accomplished by thebonds of hateful separation,

the flowers announce our sorrow.What the loud mouth, out of caution,may not say,

may be lamented by flowers.

They recall, with lovely, entwinedgarlands,

the joy of festive circle dances,when their ringlets catch the light,

of Bacchus, Venus’ prize;for poor are the pleasing gifts of thegods,

when lyre and flowers can’t refreshthe heart.


Im HaineText: Franz Seraph Ritter vonBruchmann

SonnestrahlenDurch die Tannen,Wie sie fallen,Ziehn von dannenAlle Schmerzen,Und im HerzenWohnet reiner Friede nur.

Stille SausenLauer Lüfte,Und in BrausenZarter Düfte,Die sich neigenAus den Zweigen,Atmet aus die ganze Flur.

Wenn nur immerDunkle Bäume,Sonnenschimmer,Grüne SäumeUns umblühtenUnd umglühten,Tilgend aller Qualen Spur!

JasminestrauchText: Friedrich Rückert

Grün ist der JasminenstrauchAbends eingeschlafen,Als ihn mit des Morgens HauchSonnenlichter trafen,Ist er schneeweiß aufgewacht:“Wie geschah mir in der Nacht?”Seht, so geht es Bäumen,Die im Frühling träumen.

In the WoodTrans: Copyright © by Emily Ezust

Sunbeamsthrough the fir-treesfalling,draw from thereall pain;and in our heartsdwells pure peace only.

The still murmuringof mild breezes,and the whisperingof delicate scents:They float downfrom the branches,breathing gently on the entire meadow.

If onlythe dark trees,the shimmering sunlight,and the green forest-edge,could blossomand glow around us all the time,erasing every trace of pain!

The Jasmine Bush

Green is the jasmine bushas evening comes in to sleep;but when morning’s breathmeets the sun’s light,it awakens and becomes snow-white:“What happened to me in the night?”See: This is how it goes with trees,as they dream in Spring.


Die Blume der ErgebungText: Friedrich Rückert

Ich bin die Blum’ im Garten,Und muß in Stille warten,Wann und in welcher WeiseDu trittst in meine Kreise.

Kommst du, ein Strahl der Sonne,So werd’ ich deiner WonneDen Busen still entfaltenUnd deinen Blick behalten.

Kommst du als Tau und Regen,So werd’ ich deinen SegenIn Liebesschalen fassen,Ihn nicht versiegen lassen.

Und fährtest du gelindeHin über mich im Winde,So werd’ ich dir mich neigen,Sprechend: Ich bin dein eigen.

Ich bin die Blum’ im Garten,Und muß in Stille warten,Wann und in welcher WeiseDu trittst in meine Kreise.

SchneeglöckchenText: Friedrich Rückert

Der Schnee, der gestern noch inFlöckchen

Vom Himmel fiel,Hängt nun geronnen heut alsGlöckchen

Am zarten Stiel.Schneeglöckchen läutet, wasbedeutet’s

Im stillen Hain?O komm geschwind! Im Haineläutet’s

Den Frühling ein.O kommt, ihr Blätter, Blüt’ undBlume,

Die ihr noch träumt,All zu des Frühlings Heiligtume!Kommt ungesäumt!

The Flower of ResignationTrans.: Copyright © 2006 by Sharon Krebs and Harald Krebs

I am the flower in the garden,and I must wait in silenceto discover when and in what manneryou shall approach me.

If you come as a sunbeam,I shall quietly open my heartto the delight you bring,and I shall cherish your glance.

If you come as dew and rain,I shall gather your blessingsin chalices of love,and shall not let it ebb away.

And if you gently waftover me in the breeze,I shall bow down before you,saying: I am thine own.

I am the flower in the garden,and I must wait in silenceto discover when and in what manneryou shall approach me.

Snowdrops

The snow, that just yesterday wasfalling in flakes

from the sky,today hangs now, congealed, likebells

from a tender stem.The snowdrop bell tolls—what doesit mean

in the silent grove?O come quickly! In the grove, it tolls

for Spring.O come, you leaves, blossoms andflowers

you who are still dreaming—come to spring’s sanctuary!Come at once!

FleursText: Louise de Vilmorin

Fleurs promises, fleurs tenues danstes bras,

Fleurs sorties des parenthèses d’unpas,

Qui t’apportait ces fleurs l’hiver

Saupoudrées du sable des mers?Sable de tes baisers, fleurs desamours fanées

Les beaux yeux sont de cendre etdans la cheminée

Un coeur enrubanné de plaintesBrûle avec ses images saintes.

Le Papillon et la FleurText: Victor Hugo

La pauvre fleur disait au papilloncéleste:

Ne fuis pas!Vois comme nos destins sont différents. Je reste,

Tu t’en vas!

Pourtant nous nous aimons, nousvivons sans les hommes

Et loin d’eux!Et nous nous ressemblons, et l’ondit que nous sommes

Fleurs tous deux!

Mais, hélas! l’air t’emporte et laterre m’enchaîne.

Sort cruel!Je voudrais embaumer ton vol demon haleine

Dans le ciel!

Mais non, tu vas trop loin!—Parmides fleurs sans nombre

Vous fuyez,Et moi je reste seule à voir tournermon ombre

À mes pieds.

FlowersTrans.: Copyright © by Richard Stokes

Promised flowers, flowers held inyour arms,

flowers sprung from a step’s paren-theses,

who brought you these flowers inwinter

sprinkled with the sea’s sand?Sand of your kisses, flowers offaded loves

your lovely eyes are cinders and inthe hearth

a moan-beribboned heartburns with its sacred images.

The Butterfly and the Flower

The poor flower kept saying to theairborne butterfly:

“Don’t fly away!Our destinies are different: I stayput,

you travel!

Yet we love one another, we livewithout human beings,

remote from them;and we resemble one another—some say that both of us

are flowers!

“But alas! The breeze carries youoff, while the earth ties me down

what a cruel fate!I would like my breath to perfumeyour flight

in the sky!

But no, you travel too far! Visitingcountless flowers,

you fly away,while I remain alone watching myshadow circle

at my feet.




Tu fuis, puis tu reviens; puis tu t’envas encore

Luire ailleurs.Aussi me trouves-tu toujours àchaque aurore

Toute en pleurs!

Oh! pour que notre amour coule desjours fidèles,

Ô mon roi,Prends comme moi racine, oudonne-moi des ailes

Comme à toi!

Fleur JetéeText: Armand Silvestre

Emporte ma folieAu gré du vent,Fleur en chantant cueillieEt jetée en rêvant,—Emporte ma folieAu gré du vent:

Comme la fleur fauchéePérit l’amour:La main qui t’a touchéeFuit ma main sans retour.—Comme la fleur fauchéePérit l’amour.

Que le vent qui te sècheO pauvre fleur,Tout à l’heure si fraîcheEt demain sans couleur,—Que le vent qui te sèche,Sèche mon coeur!

“You go, then you come back, thenyou fly off again

to shine elsewhere.So every morning you find me

bathed in tears!

Ah please, so that our love may glidealong faithfully

(oh my king!),take root like me—or else give mewings

like yours!”

Discarded FlowerTrans: Copyright © 2001 by Peter Low

Carry off my follyat the whim of the wind,oh flower which I picked while I sangand threw away as I dreamed.—Carry off my follyat the whim of the wind!

Like flowers scythed down,love dies.The hand that once touched younow shuns my hand forever.—Like flowers scythed down,love dies.

May the wind that withers you,oh poor flower,a moment ago so freshand tomorrow all faded.—May the wind that withers youwither my heart!


OffrandeText: Paul Verlaine

Voici des fruits, des fleurs, desfeuilles et des branches

Et puis voici mon cœur qui ne batque pour vous.

Ne le déchirez pas avec vos deuxmains blanches

Et qu’à vos yeux si beaux l’humbleprésent soit doux.

J’arrive tout couvert encore de roséeQue le vent du matin vient glacer àmon front.

Souffrez que ma fatigue, à vos piedsreposée,

Rêve des chers instants qui ladélasseront.

Sur votre jeune sein laissez roulerma tête

Toute sonore encore de vos derniersbaisers;

Laissez-la s’apaiser de la bonne tempête,

Et que je dorme un peu puisquevous reposez.

An OfferingTrans.: Copyright © by Emily Ezust

Here are some fruit, some flowers,some leaves and some branches,

and then here is my heart, whichbeats only for you.

Do not rip it up with your two whitehands,

and may the humble present besweet in your beautiful eyes!

I arrive all covered in dew,which the wind of morning comes tofreeze on my forehead.

Suffer my fatigue as I repose at yourfeet,

dreaming of dear instants that willrefresh me.

On your young breast allow my headto rest,

still ringing with your last kisses;

let it calm itself after the pleasanttempest,

and let me sleep a little, since youare resting.


De FleursText: Claude Debussy

Dans l’ennui si désolément vertDe la serre de douleur,Les fleurs enlacent mon coeurDe leurs tiges méchantes.Ah! quand reviendront autour de matête

Les chères mains si tendrementdésenlaceuses?

Les grands Iris violetsViolèrent méchamment tes yeux,En semblant les refléter,—Eux, qui furent l’eau du songeOù plongèrent mes rêves si doucement,

Enclos en leur couleur;Et les lys, blancs jets d’eau de pistilsembaumés,

Ont perdu leur grâce blanche,Et ne sont plus que pauvres maladessans soleil!—

Soleil! ami des fleurs mauvaises,Tueur de rêves: Tueur d’illusions,Ce pain béni des âmes misérables!Venez! Venez! Les mains salvatrices!Brisez les vitres de mensonge,Brisez les vitres de maléfice,Mon âme meurt de trop de soleil!

Mirages! Plus ne refleurira la joie demes yeux,

Et mes mains sont lasses de prier,Mes yeux sont las de pleurer!Eternellement ce bruit fouDes pétales noirs de l’ennui,Tombant goutte à goutte sur ma tête,Dans le vert de la serre de douleur!

Of FlowersTrans.: Copyright © 2003 by Faith J. Cormier

In the desolate green boredom of pain’s hothouse, flowers surround my heartwith their nasty stems. Ah! When will the dear hands return

to delicately untangle them fromround my head?

The tall purple Iris cruelly violated your eyes by seeming to reflect them. They were the pools of reverie into which my dreams softly dove,

absorbed by their color. And the lilies, white jets of waterwith perfumed pistils,

have lost their white grace and are but poor invalids who do notknow the sun.

Sun! Friend of evil flowers, dream-killer, illusion-killer, holy bread of miserable souls! Come! Come! Saving hands!Smash the windows of lies, smash the windows of evil spells, my soul is dying from too much sun!

Mirages! Joy will never flower againin my eyes

and my hands are tired of praying, my eyes tired of crying! In an eternal crazed noise, the black petals of boredom drip constantly on my head in pain’s green hothouse!


Les Lilas Qui Avaient FleuriText: Francis Jammes

Les lilas qui avaient fleuri l’annéedernière

Vont fleurir de nouveau dans lestristes parterres.

Déjà le pêcher grêle a jonché le cielbleu

De ses roses, comme un enfant laFête-Dieu.

Mon cœur devrait mourir au milieude ces choses,

Car c’était au milieu des vergersblancs et roses

Que j’avais espéré je ne sais quoi devous.

Mon âme rêve sourdement sur vosgenoux.

Ne la repoussez point. Ne la relevezpas

De peur qu’en s’éloignant de vouselle ne voie

Combien vous êtes faible et troubléedans ses bras.

Toutes les FleursText: Edmond Rostand

Toutes les fleurs, certes, je lesadore!

Les pâles lys aux saluts langoureux,Les lys fluets dont le satin se dore,Dans leur calice, d’ors poudreux!Et les bleuets bleus,Dont l’azur décoreLes blés onduleux,Et les liserons qu’entrouvre l’auroreDe ses doigts frileux...Mais surtout, surtout, je suis amoureux,Cependant que de folles glosesS’emplissent les jardins heureux,Des lilas lilasEt des roses roses!

The Lilacs Which Had BloomedLast Year

Trans.: Copyright © 2003 by Faith J. Cormier

The lilacs which bloomed last year

will flower again in their sad beds.

Already the frail peach tree hasbedecked the blue sky

with its roses, like a child on thefeast of Corpus Christi.

My heart should die amid all thesethings,

for it was among white and pinkorchards

that I had hoped for I don’t knowwhat from you.

My soul sleeps soundly in your lap.

Don’t push it away. Don’t awaken it,

for fear that when it leaves it will see

how you are weak and troubled in itsarms.

All the Flowers Trans.: Copyright © by Richard Stokes

All the flowers—of course I adorethem!

Pale lilies with languid bows,slender lilies with gold-tinged satinin calyxes of powdered gold!Blue cornflowerswhose blueness beautifiesthe waving corn,and convulvulus half-openedby cold-fingered dawn…but most of all I’m in love,though wild gossipfills the happy gardens,with the lilac lilacand rose-colored rose!




Les cyclamens aux fragiles bouquetsLes mimosas dont le buisson se dore,Et les chers jasmins si coquets,Et les doux genêtsDont la brise odore,Et les fins muguets,Les muguets d’argent,Si frais quand l’auroreMouille les bosquets.Mais surtout, surtout, je suisamoureux,

Cependant que de folles glosesS’emplissent les jardins heureux,Des lilas lilasEt des roses roses!


Toutes les fleurs dont fleurit tabeauté,

Les clairs soucis dont la lumière dore

Tes cheveux aux blondeurs de thé,L’iris veloutéQui te prête encoreSa gracilité,Et l’œillet qui met ta joue et l’auroreEn rivalité!Mais surtout, surtout, je suisamoureux,

Dans tes chères lèvres déclosesEt dans les cernes de tes yeux,Des lilas lilasEt des roses roses!


cyclamen in fragile clusters,mimosa that gilds the thickets,and dear coquettish jasmineand sweet broomthat scents the breeze,pretty, silverlilies-of-the-valley,so fresh when dawnbedews the groves.but most of all I’m in love,

though wild gossipfills the happy gardens,with the lilac lilacand rose-colored rose!


All the flowers with which yourbeauty blooms,

the bright marigold whose goldenlight

bathes your hair the color of tea,the velvety iriswhich lends youher slenderness,and the pinks that cause your cheeksto vie with the dawn!But most of all I’m in love—

in your dear lips in bloomand the rings of your eyes—with the lilac lilacand rose-colored rose!

Great Performers I Meet the Artists

Soprano Carolyn Sampson has enjoyed notable success worldwide withrepertoire ranging from early Baroque to present day. She has appearedwith English National Opera, Glyndebourne Festival Opera, Scottish Opera,Opéra de Paris, Opéra de Lille, and Opéra national du Rhin. Ms. Sampsonalso performs regularly at the BBC Proms with such orchestras as theBach Collegium Japan, Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, Freiburg BaroqueOrchestra, Orchestra dell’Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia, RotterdamPhilharmonic Orchestra, Gewandhaus Orchestra of Leipzig, and ViennaSymphony Orchestra as well as a number of U.S. orchestras.

A consummate recitalist, Ms. Sampson performs regularly at Amsterdam’sConcertgebouw and London’s Wigmore Hall, where she was the featuredartist for the 2014–15 season, and at the Aldeburgh Festival and Festivalde Saintes. She made her Carnegie Hall debut in 2013.

Ms. Sampson has an extensive discography on the Harmonia Mundi, BISRecords, Hyperion, Virgin Classics, DG Archiv, Linn Records, and Vivatlabels. Her recent recording with Ex Cathedra on Hyperion, A FrenchBaroque Diva, celebrating Marie Fel, won the recital award at the 2015Gramophone Awards. Ms. Sampson’s debut song recital disc, Fleurs, withJoseph Middleton, was released in 2015 and was nominated in the solovocal category of the Gramophone Awards. They recently released theirsecond recital disc together, A Verlaine Songbook, exploring settings of thepoetry of Paul Verlaine for BIS Records.

Mee

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Carolyn SampsonMARCO BORGGREVE

Pianist Joseph Middleton specializesin song accompaniment and chambermusic. He is the director of LeedsLieder, the musician-in-residence atCambridge’s Pembroke College, anda professor at his alma mater, theRoyal Academy of Music. This springhe won the Young Artists Award atthe 2017 Royal Philharmonic SocietyAwards. Mr. Middleton is a regularguest at Alice Tully Hall, Amsterdam’sConcert gebouw, Vienna’s Konzert -haus, Zurich’s Tonhalle, the Phil har -

monie in Cologne and Luxem bourg, the Musée d’Orsay in Paris, and Lon don’sWigmore Hall. In recent seasons he has performed at the Aldeburgh, Aix-en-Provence, Edinburgh, Stuttgart, and Ravinia festivals. In 2016 he made his BBCProms debut in recital with Iestyn Davies and Carolyn Sampson.

Mr. Middleton collaborates with many singers including Thomas Allen, IanBostridge, Lucy Crowe, Wolfgang Holzmair, Christiane Karg, John MarkAinsley, and Mark Padmore. His discography includes recordings withSampson, Ruby Hughes, Felicity Lott, Amanda Roocroft, and Matthew Rose,among others. His 2016–17 season includes American recital tours with SarahConnolly and Kate Royal; recitals with Christopher Maltman in Strasbourg andAntwerp; with Katarina Karnéus in Gothenburg; and with Simon Keenlysideand Ian Bostridge in Leeds. He also appears with Sarah Connolly, Clara Mouriz,and Sampson at Wigmore Hall and debuts with the Myrthen Ensemble at theConcertgebouw and Musée d’Orsay.

Lincoln Center’s Great Performers

Initiated in 1965, Lincoln Center’s Great Performers series offers classical andcontemporary music performances from the world’s outstanding symphonyorchestras, vocalists, chamber ensembles, and recitalists. One of the mostsignificant music presentation series in the world, Great Performers runs fromOctober through June with offerings in Lincoln Center’s David Geffen Hall,Alice Tully Hall, Walter Reade Theater, and other performance spaces aroundNew York City. From symphonic masterworks, lieder recitals, and Sundaymorning coffee concerts to films and groundbreaking productions speciallycommissioned by Lincoln Center, Great Performers offers a rich spectrum ofprogramming throughout the season.

Great Performers I Meet the Artists

Joseph MiddletonSUSSIE AHLB

URG

Great Performers

Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts, Inc.

Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts (LCPA) serves three primary roles: pre-senter of artistic programming, national leader in arts and education and com-munity relations, and manager of the Lincoln Center campus. A presenter ofmore than 3,000 free and ticketed events, performances, tours, and educationalactivities annually, LCPA offers 15 programs, series, and festivals includingAmerican Songbook, Great Performers, Lincoln Center Festival, Lincoln CenterOut of Doors, Midsummer Night Swing, the Mostly Mozart Festival, and theWhite Light Festival, as well as the Emmy Award–winning Live From LincolnCenter, which airs nationally on PBS. As manager of the Lincoln Center cam-pus, LCPA provides support and services for the Lincoln Center complex andthe 11 resident organizations. In addition, LCPA led a $1.2 billion campus reno-vation, completed in October 2012.

Lincoln Center Programming DepartmentJane Moss, Ehrenkranz Artistic DirectorHanako Yamaguchi, Director, Music ProgrammingJon Nakagawa, Director, Contemporary ProgrammingJill Sternheimer, Director, Public ProgrammingLisa Takemoto, Production ManagerCharles Cermele, Producer, Contemporary ProgrammingMauricio Lomelin, Producer, Contemporary ProgrammingAndrew C. Elsesser, Associate Director, ProgrammingRegina Grande Rivera, Associate ProducerNana Asase, Assistant to the Artistic DirectorLuna Shyr, Senior EditorOlivia Fortunato, Programming AssistantMary E. Reilly, Program Content Coordinator

Ms. Sampson’s representation:Maxine Robertson Management Ltd.www.maxinerobertson.com

Several studies have examined how exposure to the arts in middle

school strongly impact a student’s social skills and development as well as likelihood to graduate from high school. In 2013, Lincoln Center Education launched a pilot program in partnership with the New York City Department of Education aimed at this specific issue. Called Arts in the Middle, it focuses on arts education as a potential catalyst for improved student engagement and success in and out of school, as well as parent engagement, teaching practices, and school and community culture.

Through Arts in the Middle, Lincoln Center Education is working with more than a dozen underserved New York City middle schools that have little to no arts programs. LCE is supporting schools with efforts to hire a part-time or full-time arts teacher, in addition to deploying its own roster of skilled teaching artists to help in the classroom and provide professional development for teachers and family engagement. Early results of these efforts to support educators and students are showing positive results. Metis Associates, hired by LCE to evaluate short- and long-

term effectiveness of the program, has documented increased parent engagement, which can have an impact on student success. Some schools have also noted that students are becoming vibrant and vocal participants when the arts are integrated into classrooms. If results continue in this direction, Lincoln Center Education hopes to develop an adaptable model of the program that can be disseminated nationally to bring arts education to underserved communities.

“As our partnership with the New York City Department of Education continues to grow, so, too, does our commitment to supporting whole communities by providing thoughtful programs for students and families around New York City’s five boroughs,” said Russell Granet. “Arts in the Middle is just one of many ways Lincoln Center Education is leveraging high-quality arts programs to improve the lives of all New Yorkers.”

Learn more about Lincoln Center Education and its work at home and abroad: LincolnCenterEducation.org

Students from South Bronx Academy for Applied Media

4 decades of thinking like an artist

Arts in the Middle

Jean

Tay

lor

Sunday, May 14, 2017, at 5:00 pm m o Carolyn …greatperformers.lincolncenter.org/assets/img/downloads/05-14...POULENC Fleurs (1939) FAURÉ Le papillon et la fleur, Op. 1 (1861) Fleur

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