Thursday Evening, March 22, 2018, at 7:30

The Juilliard School presents Vocal Arts Honors Recital Natalia Kutateladze, Mezzo-soprano Felicia Moore, Soprano Chris Reynolds, Piano

ROBERT SCHUMANN Des Sennen Abschied (1810–56) Die Sennin Lust der Sturmnacht

PYOTR Ya li v pole da ne travushka bïla? ILYICH TCHAIKOVSKY To bilo rannayu vesnoy (1840–93) Sred shumnovo bala

SERGEI RACHMANINOFF Ne poj, krasavica, pri mne (1873–1943)

MANUEL DE FALLA Siete canciones populares españolas (1876–1946) El paño moruno Seguidilla murciana Asturiana Jota Nana Canción Polo

NATALIA KUTATELADZE, Mezzo-soprano CHRIS REYNOLDS, Piano

Intermission

Juilliard’s Ellen and James S. Marcus Institute for Vocal Arts was established in 2010 by the generous support of Ellen and James S. Marcus.

Alice Tully Hall Please make certain that all electronic devices are turned off during the performance. JEAN SIBELIUS From Five Songs, Op. 37 (1865–1957) Soluppgång Flickan kom ifrån sin älsklings möte Var det en dröm?

RICHARD WAGNER From Wesendonck Lieder (1813–83) Im Treibhaus Stehe still! Träume

AARON COPLAND From Twelve Poems of Emily Dickinson (1900–90) Nature, the Gentlest Mother Dear March, Come In! The Chariot Sleep Is Supposed to Be

FELICIA MOORE, Soprano CHRIS REYNOLDS, Piano

Performance time: approximately 1 hour and 30 minutes, including one intermission

The taking of photographs and the use of recording equipment are not permitted in this auditorium.

Information regarding gifts to the school may be obtained from the Juilliard School Development Office, 60 Lincoln Center Plaza, New York, NY 10023-6588; (212) 799-5000, ext. 278 (juilliard.edu/giving).

About the Juilliard Vocal Arts Honors Recital

The singers on tonight’s program were nominated to audition by their voice teachers and selected through a competitive audition process. The auditions were judged by a distin- guished panel that included senior director and artistic adviser of Carnegie Hall Jeremy Geffen, Juilliard alumna Jennifer Zetlan, and artistic advisor of the Orchestra of St. Luke’s Charles Hamlen. Their task was to select the singers you will hear this evening, each of whom, along with their pianists, chose the repertoire for tonight’s program. Song at Juilliard takes many forms, from intimate forums featuring some of our youngest stu- dents (the Juilliard Songbook series) to the Liederabend series, recitals in which the pianists take the lead in programming. Tonight’s Honors Recital gives talented song recitalists at Juilliard the opportunity to perform before the general public, presenting a program of great variety. This evening’s pianist is a student of Juilliard’s collaborative piano department. We hope you enjoy this group of highly talented artists.

—Brian Zeger, Artistic Director, Ellen and James S. Marcus Institute for Vocal Arts Texts & Translations

Des Sennen Abschied The Alpine Herdsman’s Farewell ROBERT SCHUMANN Translation: Richard Stokes © The Book of Text: Friedrich von Schiller Lieder

Ihr Matten, lebt wohl, Farewell, you meadows, Ihr sonnigen Weiden! You sunny pastures! Der Senne muß scheiden, The herdsman must leave you, Der Sommer ist hin. Summer is over. Wir fahren zu Berg, wir kommen wieder, We’ll return to the mountains, we’ll come again, Wenn der Kuckuck ruft, wenn erwachen When the cuckoo calls, when songs die Lieder, awaken,

Wenn mit Blumen die Erde sich kleidet When the earth is freshly clothed with neu, flowers, Wenn die Brünnlein fließen im lieblichen When the brooklets are flowing in lovely Mai. May. Ihr Matten, lebt wohl, Farewell, you meadows, Ihr sonnigen Weiden! You sunny pastures! Der Senne muß scheiden, The herdsman must leave you, Der Sommer ist hin. Summer is over.

Die Sennin The Cowgirl ROBERT SCHUMANN Translation: Richard Stokes © The Book of Text: Nikolas Lenau Lieder

Schöne Sennin, noch einmal Lovely cowgirl, sing once more Singe deinen Ruf ins Tal, Your song into the valley, Dass die frohe Felsensprache That the cliffs wake with joyful speech Deinem hellen Ruf erwache. At your clear summons. Horch, o Sennin, wie dein Sang Listen, girl, how your song In die Brust den Bergen drang, Has pierced the heart of the mountains, Wie dein Wort die Felsenseelen How the souls of the crags joyfully Freudig fort und fort erzählen! Keep echoing your words! Aber einst, wie Alles flieht, But all things pass, and one day Scheidest du mit deinem Lied, You will depart with your song, Wenn dich Liebe fortbewogen, When love has drawn you away Oder dich der Tod entzogen. Or death has claimed you. Und verlassen werden stehn, And the towering gray crags Traurig stumm herübersehn Will then stand deserted, Dort die grauen Felsenzinnen Sadly looking down in silence, Und auf deine Lieder sinnen. Remembering your songs. Lust der Sturmnacht Joy in a Stormy Night ROBERT SCHUMANN Translation: © Richard Stokes Text: Justinus Kerner

Wenn durch Berg und Tale draussen When, outside, over hill and vale Regen schauert, Stürme brausen, Rain streams and tempests rage, Schild und Fenster hell erklirren, House-emblem, window, rattle loud Und in Nacht die Wandrer irren, And in the darkness travelers stray, Ruht es sich so süss hier innen, Here inside it is so sweet to rest Aufgelöst in selges Minnen; And give oneself to blissful love; All der goldne Himmelsschimmer The whole of Heaven’s golden gleam Flieht herein ins stille Zimmer: Flees hither to this quiet room: Reiches Leben, hab’ Erbarmen! Have compassion, O abundant life, Halt’ mich fest in linden Armen! Hold me fast with gentle arm. Lenzesblumen aufwärts dringen, The flowers of spring thrust up, Wö lklein ziehn und Vöglein singen. Clouds are scudding and birds sing. Ende nie, du Sturmnacht, wilde! Never end, wild night of storm, Klirrt, ihr Fenster, schwankt, ihr Schilde, Rattle, house-emblems and windows, Bäumt euch, Wälder, braus’, o Welle, Rear up, forests. Roar, O wave. Mich umfängt des Himmels helle! Locked am I in Heaven’s bright embrace!

Ya li v pole da ne travushka bïla? Was I Not A Blade Of Grass In The Field? PYOTR ILLYICH TCHAIKOVSKY Translation: from Tchaikovsky’s Complete Text: Ivan Surikov Songs: A Companion with Texts and Translations, Indiana University Press, 2002, 2004 by Richard D Sylvester. With kind permission of the author

Ya li v pole da ne travushka bïla Was I not a blade of grass in the field, Ya li v pole ne zelyonaya rosla Was I not growing green in the field? Vzyali menya travushku skosili, I was taken, blade of grass, and cut down, Na solnïshke v pole issushili, Left in the field to dry in the sun.

Oh, tï, gore moyo goryushko Oh, you, woe, heavy woe of mine! Oh tï, gore moyo goryushko! Oh, you, woe, heavy woe of mine! Znat’, znat’ takaya moya dolyushka ... So that’s what fate had in store for me!

Ya li v pole ne kalinushka bïla? Was I not a bush of guelder rose, Ya li v pole da ne krasnaya rosla? With berries red, growing in the field? Vzyali kalinushku slomali, The bush was taken, cut down, Da v zhgutïki menya razvyazali! And tied up into a bundle of twigs.

Oh, tï, gore moyo goryushko Oh, you, woe, heavy woe of mine! Oh tï, gore moyo goryushko! Oh, you, woe, heavy woe of mine! Znat’, znat’, takaya moya dolyushka ... So that’s what fate had in store for me!

Ya l’ u batyushki ne dochen’ka bïla? Was I not my father’s little daughter, U rodimoy ne tsvetochek ya rosla? Was I not my mother’s little flower? V nevolyu menya bednuyu vzyali By force they took me, poor girl, Da s nemilïm sedïm povenchali And married me to a graybeard I don’t love, S nemilïm da sedïm povenchali. To a graybeard I don’t love they married me!

Oh tï, gore moyo goryushko Oh, you, woe, heavy woe of mine! Oh tï, gore moyo goryushko ... Oh, you, woe, heavy woe of mine! Znat’, znat’ takaya moya dolyushka ... So that’s what fate had in store for me!

To bilo rannayu vesnoy It Was In Early Spring PYOTR ILYICH TCHAIKOVSKY Translation: from Tchaikovsky’s Complete Text: A.K. Tolstoy Songs: A Companion with Texts and Translations, Indiana University Press, 2002, 2004 by Richard D Sylvester. With kind permission of the author

To bilo rannayu vesnoy, It was in early spring, trava edva vshodila, The grass was just appearing, ruch’i tekli, ne paril znoj, The streams were flowing, the air was warm, i zelen’ roshh skvozila; In the groves there was a thin veil of green;

Truba pastush’ja poutru Too early to hear the shepherd’s horn eshhjo ne pela zvonko, Ring out in the morning, i v zavitka h eshhjo v boru, And in the grove of conifers, still twisted tight, byl paporotnik tonkij; Stood the first slender ferns;

To bylo ranneju vesnoj, It was in early spring, v teni berjoz to bylo, It was in the shade of birches, kogda s ulybkoj predo mnoj When, standing before me, smiling, ty ochi opustila ... You lo wered your eyes…

To na ljubov' moju v otvet It was an answer to my love, ty opustila vezhdy! Your lowered glance— O zhizn’! o, les! o, solnca svet! O life! O woods! O sunlight! O, junost’! o, nadezhdy! O youth! O hopes!

I plakal ja pered toboj, And I wept before you, na lik tvoj gljadja milyj; Gazing at your dear face,— to bylo ranneju vesnoj, It was in early spring, v teni berjoz to bylo! In the shade of birches!

To bylo v utro nashih let! It was in the morning of our days— O, schast’e! o sljozy! O happiness! O tears! o, les! o, zhizn’! o, solnca svet! O woods! O life! O sunlight! O, svezhij duh berjozy! O fresh smell of the birch tree! Sred shumnovo bala Amidst the Din of the Ball PYOTR ILYICH TCHAIKOVSKY Translation: Philip Ross Bullock Text: A.K. Tolstoy

Sred shumnovo bala, sluchaino, Amidst the din of the ball, by chance, V trevoge mirskoi suety, In the commotion of worldly vanity, Tebya ya uvidel, no taina I glimpsed you, but mystery Tvoi pokryvala cherty. Covered your features.

Lish ochi pechalno glyadeli, Only your eyes looked sad, A golos tak divno zvuchal, But the divine sound of your voice Kak zvon otdalyonnoi svireli, Was like the sound of far-off pipes, Kak morya igrayushchyi val. Or the dancing waves of the sea.

Mne stan tvoi ponravilsa tonkyi I fell for your delicate form, I ves tvoi zadumchivyi vid, And all of your pensiveness, A smekh tvoy, i grustnyi, i zvonkyi, And your laughter, both sad and sonorous, S tekh por v moyom serdtse zvuchit. Still rings in my heart.

V chasy odinokie nochi In the lonely hours of night, Lyublyu ya, ustalyi, prilech; I love to lie down, tired; Ya vizhu pechalnye ochi, I see your sad eyes, Ya slyshu vesyoluyu rech, I hear your joyful words.

I grustno ya, grustno tak zasypayu, And wistfully falling asleep, I v gryozakh nevedomykh splyu … I drift into mysterious dreams… Lyublyu li tebya, ya ne znayu, I don’t know whether I love you, No kazhetsa mne, chto lyublyu! But I think I probably do!

Ne poj, krasavica, pri mne Don’t Sing to Me, My Beauty SERGEI RACHMANINOFF Translation: Philip Ross Bullock Text: Aleksander Pushkin

Ne poj, krasavica, pri mne Oh do not sing for me, fair maid, Ty pesen Gruzii pechal’noj; Those songs of melancholy Georgia; Napominajut mne oni They remind me Druguju zhizn’ i bereg dal’nij. Of another life and a distant shore.

U vy, napominajut mne Alas! Your cruel strains Tvoi zhestokije napevy Remind me I step’, i noch’, i pri lune Of the steppe and the night, Cherty dalekoj, bednoj devy! And the moonlit face of my distant beloved.

Ja prizrak milyj, rokovoj, When you are near, Tebja uvidev, zabyvaju; I forget that sweet and fateful vision; No ty pojosh’, i predo mnoj But when you sing, Jego ja vnov’ voobrazhaju. I imagine it once again before me. Ne poj, krasavica, pri mne Oh do not sing for me, fair maid, Ty pesen Gruzii pechal’noj; Those songs of melancholy Georgia; Napominajut mne oni The remind me Druguju zhizn’ i bereg dal’nij. Of another life and a distant shore.

Siete canciones populares españolas Seven Spanish Folk Songs MANUEL DE FALLA Translations: Albert Combrink Traditional Spanish Texts

El Paño Moruno The Moorish Cloth El paño Moruno The Moorish cloth Al paño fino, en la tienda, On the fine cloth in the store una mancha le cayó; a stain has fallen; Por menos precio se vende, It sells at a lesser price, Porque perdió su valor. because it has lost its value.

Seguidilla murciana Seguidilla murciana Cualquiera que el tejado Who has a roof of glass Tenga de vidrio, should not throw stones No debe tirar piedras to their neighbor’s roof. Al del vecino. Let us be muleteers; Arri eros semos; It could be that on the road ¡Puede que en el camino we will meet! Nos encontremos! For your great inconstancy, Por tu mucha inconstancia I compare you Yo te comparo to a coin Con peseta que corre that runs De mano en mano; from hand to hand; Que al fin se borra, which finally blurs, and, Y créyendola falsa believing it false, ¡Nadie la toma! no one accepts!

Asturiana Asturian Por ver si me consolaba, To see whether it would console me, Arrime a un pino verde, I drew near a green pine, Por ver si me consolaba. To see whether it would console me. Por verme llorar, lloraba. Seeing me weep, it wept; Y el pino como era verde, And the pine, being green, Por verme llorar, lloraba. seeing me weep, wept.

Nana Nana Duérmete, niño, duerme, Go to sleep, child, sleep, Duerme, mi alma, Sleep, my soul, Duérmete, lucerito Go to sleep, De l a mañana. little star of the morning. Naninta, nana Lulla-lullaby, Naninta, nana. Lulla-lullaby, Duérmete, lucerito de la mañana. Sleep, little star of the morning. Canción Song Por traidores, tus ojos, Because your eyes are traitors voy a enterrarlos; I will hide from them No sabes lo que cuesta, You don’t know how painful “Del aire” it is to look at them Niña, el mirarlos. in the air. “Madre a la orilla Madre” “Mother I feel worthless, Mother”

Dicen que no me quieres, They say they don’t love me Y a me has querido ... and yet once Váyase lo ganado, they did love me “Del aire “Love has been lost in the air Por lo perdido, Mother all is lost Madre a la orilla Madre” It is lost Mother”

Polo Polo ¡Ay! Guardo una, ¡Ay! Ay! I keep a ... (Ay!) Guardo una, ¡Ay! I keep a ... (Ay!) ¡Guardo una pena en mi pecho, I keep a sorrow in my breast, ¡Guardo una pena en mi pecho,¡Ay! I keep a sorrow in my breast (Ay!) Que a nadie se la diré! that to no one will I tell. Malhaya el amor, malhaya, Wretched be love, wretched, Malhaya el am or, malhaya, Wretched be love, wretched, ¡Ay! Ay! ¡Y quien me lo dió a entender! And he who gave me to understand it! ¡Ay! Ay!

From Five Songs, Op. 37 From Five Songs, Op. 37 Soluppgång Sunrise JEAN SIBELIUS Translation: © David McCleery, LiederNet Text: Tor Hedberg Archive

Under himlens purpurbrand Beneath heaven’s purple fire Ligga tysta sjö och land Lie silent seas and lands, Det är gryningsstunden. Day is breaking. Snöig gren och frostvit kvist Snowy branch and frosty twigs Tecka sig så segervisst Cast their patterns victoriously Mot den röda grunden. Over the red earth.

Riddarn står vid fönsterkarm, The knight stands by the window, Lyssnar efter stridens larm, Listens for the call to arms, Trampar golvets tilja. Paces the floor , back and forth. Men en smal och snövit hand But a small, snow-white hand Kyler milt hans pannas brand, Cools his fiery brow, Böjer mjukt hans vilja. Gently calms his will.

Riddarn sätter horn till mun, The knight puts his bugle to his lips, Blåser vilt I gryningsstund, Blows wildly into the morning light Över nejd som tiger. Towards the silent land. Tonen klingar, klar och spröd, The sound rings out, bright and clear. Branden slocknar, gyllenröd, The golden fire of dawn retreats Solen sakta stiger. And the sun slowly rises.

Flickan kom ifrån sin älsklings mote The Girl Came From Meeting Her Lover JEAN SIBELIUS Translation: Lynn Steele Text: Johan Ludvig Runeberg

Flickan kom ifrån sin älsklings möte, The girl came from meeting her lover, kom med röda händer. Modern sade: came with her hands all red. Said her mother: “Varav rodna dina händer, flicka?” “What has made your hands so red, girl?” Flickan sade: “Jag har plockat rosor Said the girl: “I was picking roses och på törnen stungit mina händer.” and pricked my hands on the thorns.”

Åter kom hon från sin älsklings möte, Again she came from meeting her lover, kom med röda läppar. Modern sade: came with her lips all red. Said her mother: “Varav rodna dina läppar, flicka?” “What has made your lips so red, girl?” Flickan sade: “Jag har ätit hallon Said the girl: “I was eating raspberries och med saften målat mina läppar.” and stained my lips with the juice.”

Åter kom hon från sin älsklings möte, Again she came from meeting her lover, kom med bleka kinder. Modern sade: came with her cheeks all pale. Said her mother: “Varav blekna dina kinder, flicka?” “What has made your cheeks so pale, girl?” Flickan sade: “Red en grav, o moder! Said the girl: “Oh mother, dig a grave for me, Göm mig där och ställ ett kors däröver, Hide me there and set a cross above, och på korset rista, som jag säger: And on the cross wri te as I tell you:

En gång kom hon hem med röda händer, Once she came home with her hands all red, ty de rodnat mellan älskarns händer. They had turned red between her lover’s hands. En gång kom hon hem med röda läppar, Once she came home with her lips all red, ty de rodnat under älskarns läppar. They had turned red beneath her lover’s lips. Senast kom hon hem med bleka kinder, The last time she came home with her cheeks all pale, ty de bleknat genom älskarns otro. They had turned pale at her lover’s faithlessnes.

Var det en dröm? Was It a Dream? JEAN SIBELIUS Translation: Lynn Steele Text: Josef Julius Wecksell

Var det en dröm, att ljuvt en gång Was it a dream that once, in a wonderful time, jag var ditt hjärtas vän? I was your heart’s true love? Jag minns det som en tystnad sång, I remember it as a song fallen silent, då strängen darrar än. of which the strains still echo. Jag minns en törnros av dig skänkt, I remember a rose you tossed, en blick så blyg och öm; a glance so shy and tender; jag minns en avskedstår, som blänkt. I remember a sparkling tear when we parted Var allt, var allt en dröm? Was it all, all a dream?

En dröm lik sippans liv så kort A dream as brief as the life of a cowslip uti en vårgrön ängd, in a green meadow in springtime, vars fägring hastigt vissnar bort whose beauty soon withers away för nya blommors mängd. before a crowd of new flowers.

Men mången natt jag hör en röst But many a night I hear a voice vid bittra tårars ström: through the flood of my bitter tears: göm djupt dess minne i ditt bröst, hide this memory deep in your heart, det var din bästa dröm! it was your best dream!

From Wesendonck Lieder RICHARD WAGNER Translations: © Em ily Ezust, LiederNet Text: Mathilde Wesendonck Archive and IPA Source; adapted by Felicia Moore

Im Treibhaus In the Hothouse

Hoch gewölbte Blätterkronen, High-arched crowns of leaves, Baldachine von Smaragd, Canopies of emerald, Kinder ihr aus fernen Zonen, You children of distant lands, Saget mir warum ihr klagt? Tell me, why do you cry?

Schweigend neiget ihr die Zweige, You silently bend your branches, Malet Zeichen in die Luft, Paint signs in the air, Und der Leiden stummer Zeuge And as a mute witness to your suffering Steiget aufwärts, süßer Duft. A sweet fragrance rises.

Weit in sehnendem Verlangen In desirous longing, Breitet ihr die Arme aus, You open your arms out wide, Und umschlinget wahnbefangen And embrace through your delusion Öde Leere nicht’gen Graus. The empty horror of the desolate void.

Wohl, ich weiß es, arme Pflanze: I know well, poor plants, Ein Geschicke theilen wir, We share one fate, Ob umstrahlt von Licht und Glanze, Though we bathe in light and radiance, Unsre Heimat ist nicht hier! Our homeland is not here!

Und wie froh die Sonne scheidet And how gladly the sun departs Von des Tages leerem Schein, From the empty shine of the day, Hüllet der, der wahrhaft leidet, He covers himself, he who suffers truly, Sich in Schweigens Dunkel ein. In the darkness of silence. Stille wird’s, ein säuselnd Weben It becomes quiet, a whispered stirring Füllet bang den dunklen Raum: The dark room fills with anxiety: Schwere Tropfen she’ ich schweben I see heavy drops suspended An der Blätter grünem Saum. On the green edge of the leaves.

Stehe still! Stand Still!

Sausendes, brausendes Rad der Zeit, Roaring and thundering wheel of time Messer du der Ewigkeit; You measurer of Eternity; Leuchtende Sphären im weiten All, Shining spheres in the wide universe Die ihr umringt den Weltenball; You who surround the world’s globe, Urewige Schöpfung, halte doch ein, Eternal creation, stop! Genug des Werdens, laß mich sein! Enough of becoming, let me be!

Halte an dich, zeugende Kraft, Cease, creating power, Urgedanke, der ewig schafft! The primal thoughts which you are ever creating! Hemmet den Atem, stillet den Drang, Slow the breath, still your urge Schweiget nur eine Sekunde lang! Be silent, if only for a second long! Schwellende Pulse, fesselt den Schlag; Swelling pulses, restrain your beat, Ende, des Wollens ew’ger Tag! End, the eternal day of willing! Daß in selig süßem Vergessen That in blessed, sweet oblivion, Ich mög’ alle Wonnen ermessen! I may measure all my bliss!

Wenn Aug' in Auge wonnig trinken, When one eye drinks bliss from another, Seele ganz in Seele versinken; And one soul into another sinks, Wesen in Wesen sich wieder findet, One finds oneself in another being, Und alles Hoffen’s Ende sich kündet, And all hope’s end announces itself, Die Lippe verstummt in staunendem The lips are mute in astounded silence, Schweigen, Keinen Wunsch mehr will das Inn’re zeugen: The soul no longer feels the urge to produce, Erkennt d er Mensch des Ew’gen Spur, Then man recognizes the path of Eternity, Und löst dein Räthsel, heil’ge Natur! And solves your riddle, holy Nature!

Träume Dreams

Sag’, welch wunderbare Träume Tell me, what wondrous dreams Halten meinen Sinn umfangen, Are possessing my senses, Daß sie nicht wie leere Schäume That have not, like empty sea-foam, Sind in ödes Nichts vergangen? Vanished into bleak Nothingness?

Träume, die in jeder Stunde, Dreams, that with each hour, Jedem Tage schöner blüh’n, Each day, they bloom more beautifully, Und mit ihrer Himmelskunde And with their heavenly tidings Selig durch’s Gemüte ziehn! Blissfully draw through my spirit!

Träume, die wie hehre Strahlen Dreams, which, like sublime beams of light In die Seele sich versenken, Sink into the soul, Dort ein ewig Bild zu malen: There to paint an eternal image: Allvergessen, Eingedenken! Forgetting all, remembering one!

Träume, wie wenn Frühlingssonne Dreams, which when the spring sun Aus dem Schnee die Blüten küßt, Kisses the blossoms from the snow, Daß zu nie geahnter Wonne So that into unimaginable rapture Sie der neue Tag begrüßt, They welcome the new day,

Daß sie wachsen, daß sie blühen, So that they grow, so that they blossom, Träumend spenden ihren Duft, And dreaming, bestow their fragrance, Sanft an deiner Brust verglühen, Gently upon your breast, these dreams burn away, Und dann sinken in die Gruft. And then sink into the grave.

From Twelve Poems of Emily Dickinson AARON COPLAND Text: Emily Dickinson

Nature, the Gentlest Mother Nature, the gentlest mother Impatient of no child, The feeblest or the waywardest, Her admonition mild

In forest and the hill By traveler is heard, Restraining rampant squirrel Or too impetuous bird.

How fair her conversation, A summer afternoon, Her household, her assembly; And when the sun goes down

Her voice a mong the aisles Incites the timid prayer Of the minutest cricket, The most unworthy flower.

When all the children sleep, She turns as long away, As will suffice to light her lamps; Then, bending from the sky.

With infinite affection And infiniter care Her golden finger on her lip Wills silence everywhere.

Dear March, Come In! Dear March, come in! How glad I am! I looked for you before. Put down your hat You must have walked How out of breath you are! Dear March, how are you? And the rest? Did you leave Nature well? Oh, March come right upstairs with me I have so much to tell!

I got your letter and the bird’s The maples never know That you were coming, I declare How red their faces grew! But March forgive me And all those hills You left for me to hue, There was no purple suitable, You took it all with you.

Who knocks? that April? Lock the door, I will not be pursued. He stayed away a year, To call when I am occupied But trifles look so trivial As soon as you have come, And blame is just as dear as praise And praise as mere as blame.

The Chariot Because I would not stop for Death He kindly stopped for me The carriage held but just ourselves and Immortality.

We slowly drove—He knew no haste And I had put away My labor and my leisure too For his civility. We passed the school where children played, Their lessons scarcely done We passed the fields of gazing grain We passed the setting sun,

We paused before a house that seemed a swelling of the ground The roof was scarcely visible The cornice but a mound,

Since then ‘tis centuries but each Feels shorter than the day, I first surmised The horses’ heads were toward eternity.

Sleep Is Supposed To Be Sleep is suppose d to be, By souls of sanity, The shutting of the eye.

Sleep is the station grand Down which on either hand The hosts of witness stand

Morn is supposed to be, By people of degree, The breaking of the day.

Morning has not occurred! That shall aurora be East of Eternity

One with the banner gay, One in the red array, That is the break of day. JIYANG CHEN LEKO STUDIO Last season she sang the title role of Merola Opera Program she sang Agathe in Agathe sang she Program Opera Merola Der Freischütz umr t h Sn rnic Opera’s Francisco San the at summer Turn of the Screw coasi t te ao aaihii Tbilisi Sarajishvili Vano the to scholarship most recently heard as Mrs. Grose in Grose Mrs. as heard recently most where she graduated with honors. In 2015 In honors. with graduated she where singer, opera classical a as Conservatoire n wt Eih in. s Moe was Moore Ms. Wiens. Edith with ing pait eoe en acpe o full on accepted being before pianist a she was accepted into Juilliard where she where Juilliard into accepted was she from graduated Georgia, of Republic the in opera studies student at Juilliard study- Juilliard at student studies opera in et f dt Wi Edith of dent Artists the Meet ez-orn Ntla uaeaz, from Kutateladze, Natalia Mezzo-soprano s usig e mse’ dge a a stu- a as degree master’s her pursuing is as Tbilisi in School High Music Central the ticipated in the Baltic Season Music Festival, in Juilliard Opera’s production of Jonathan of production Opera’s Juilliard in a Dove’s Spivakov International Music Festival, and Festival, Music International Spivakov h Itrainl lsia Msc Festival Music Classical International the of Georgia. of Soprano Felicia Moore is an arti an is Moore Felicia Soprano Fund tvn Shlrhp An Schoen-René Anna Scholarship, Stevens Risë Voice, in Scholarship Greenland Rita ppeared last season as the Minskwoman the as season last ppeared Flight. Ms. Kutateladze has also par- and Elisabeth in at Opera Columbus. Last n. s Kutateladze Ms. ens. Kutateladze Natalia Felicia Moore Felicia Tannhäuser iploma st d st Katya The .

HARRISON LINSEY efracs include performances en, n Jnta Flmn Recent Feldman. Jonathan and Penna, Kabanova student of Margo Garrett, Brian Zeger, JJ Zeger, Brian Garrett, Margo of student a be a on ats a te O the at artist young a been has n hs atrs ere t ulir a a as Juilliard at degree master’s his ing Music Festival and School. He is on on is He School. and Festival Music Aka Aspen the and SongFest both at fellow n a olbrtr H i crety pursu- currently is He collaborator. a and tf a te nentoae Meistersinger Internationale the at staff Ly a two-time semi-finalist in the Metropolitan being include awards previous and Award, with Julian Martin. Julian with a as well as Caramoor, at Star Vocal Rising Fellowship, Charles E. Weekes Scholarship s en aadd h tp p top the awarded being as well as Auditions, Council National Opera made a name for himself as both a soloist a both as himself for name a made lsia Msc Iee imn Graduate Diamond Irene Music, Classical ere rm ulir wee e studied he where Juilliard from degree al a Tnlwo, n Byet. He Bayreuth. and Tanglewood, at Hall, George London Foundation. Ms. Moore is Moore Ms. Foundation. London George among others. In 2015 he was a Schwab a was he 2015 In others. among T from Princeton, New Jersey.New Princeton, from Katz, Graham Johnson, and Jake Heggie, Jake and Johnson, Graham Katz, e o ti ya’ Slia Foundation Sullivan year’s this of ner Picker’s for cover the was she where Opera, Metro eoe . ree elwhp Hardesty Fellowship, Greene L. Jerome Alice Ford in and Beverley Peck Johnson Fund Johnson Peck Beverley and . She is a win- a is She Carmelites . the of Dialogues mrcn ins Crs enls has Reynolds Chris pianist American a wre wt ad eevd guidance received and with worked has phw Biit Fsbedr Martin Fassbaender, Brigitte Upshaw, rm mne A, sbl enr, Dawn Leonard, Isabel Ax, Emanuel from ete f an Lus n Ds Moines Des and Louis Saint of heatre nn J. Noble Scholarship for the Study of Study the for Scholarship Noble J. nn ei ad n 06 eevd i B.M. his received 2016 in and demie Emmeline, and Madame Lidoine in with Juilliard Opera. Ms. Moore Ms. Opera. Juilliard with Falstaff, the title role of Tobias Chris Reynolds Chris hs i Carnegie in those ie f rize rm the rom pera The Ellen and James S. Marcus Institute for Vocal Arts One of America’s most prestigious pro- of new operas as well as works from the grams for educating singers, The Juilliard standard repertoire. School’s Ellen and James S. Marcus Institute for Vocal Arts offers young artists Juilliard graduates may be heard in opera programs tailored to their talents and houses and concert halls throughout the needs. From bachelor and master of music world; diverse alumni artists include well- degrees to an advanced artist diploma in known performers such as Leontyne Price, opera studies, Juilliard provides frequent Renée Fleming, Risë Stevens, Tatiana performance opportunities featuring singers Troyanos, Simon Estes, and Shirley Verrett. in its own recital halls, on Lincoln Center’s Recent alumni include Isabel Leonard, stages, and around New York City. Juilliard Susanna Phillips, Paul Appleby, Erin Morley, Opera has presented numerous premieres Sasha Cooke, and Julia Bullock.

Administration Brian Zeger, Artistic Director Monica Thakkar, Director, Performance Activities Kirstin Ek, Director, Curriculum and Schedules Emily Wells, Associate Director Andrew Gaines, Production Administrator Po Chan, Projects Administrator, Curriculum Sarah Cohn, Projects Administrator, Performance Activities Kiara Walker, Schedule and Program Coordinator Emily Bishai, Vocal Arts Administrative Apprentice

Voice Faculty Alexandra Day Diane Richardson, Principal Sanford Sylvan, Chair Cori Ellison Coach and Music Advisor for Edith Bers John Giampietro Artist Diploma in Opera Studies Cynthia Hoffmann William Hobbs Lauren Schiff Marlena K. Malas Bénédicte Jourdois Eve Shapiro, Dramatic Advisor for Robert White Natalia Katyukova Artist Diploma in Opera Studies Robert C. White Jr. Kathryn LaBouff Arlene Shrut Edith Wiens Gina Levinson Jeanne Slater Denise Massé Avi Stein Ellen and James S. Marcus Kenneth Merrill Cameron Stowe Institute for Vocal Arts Faculty David Moody, Chorus Master Stephen Wadsworth, James S. Stefano Baldasseroni Glenn Morton Marcus Faculty Fellow, Marianne Barrett Nils Neubert Director of Artist Diploma in Edward Berkeley Adam Nielsen Opera Studies Mary Birnbaum, Associate Donald Palumbo Gary Thor Wedow Director of Artist Diploma in David Paul, Dramatic Advisor for Reed Woodhouse, Music Opera Studies Master of Music and Graduate Advisor for Master of Music Steven Blier Diploma and Graduate Diploma Corradina Caporello J.J. Penna Brian Zeger, Artistic Director Robert Cowart

2017–18 Ellen and James S. Marcus Institute for Vocal Arts Fellows Michał Biel, Piano Jonathan Heaney, Piano Arthur Makaryan, Opera Directing