THE LITTLE (MERMAID) MENTAL PATIENT

Benjamin R. Sokol, Fernando Silva-Gorbea, Sara Stevens, Qing Liu, and Su Hyeon Park

Some topnotch singing, acting, and orchestral luminosity delighted our ears last night at Manhattan School of Music Graduate Opera Theatre's production of Antonin Dvořák's Rusalka. We unfortunately had to deal with an ill-advised example of regietheater devised by Director John de los Santos, whose direction we usually enjoy. According to the Director's Notes which we generally read after viewing the production, Mr. de los Santos was inspired by the fact that the building occupied by Manhattan School of Music was once an asylum for the mentally ill.

Regular readers will recall that we strongly prefer a work that speaks for itself, allowing us to draw our own analogies, which we did and may choose to share  later on. The director's concept was to transform the water spite Rusalka into a mental patient around the turn of the 20th century, just about the time that Jaroslav Kvapil wrote his libretto, adapted from a fairy tale by Hans Christian Andersen (and others)  which was, in turn, devised from a few Slavic folk legends about women water sprites who lured men to their death by tickling (!) or drowning.

In this production, Michael Ruiz-del-Vizo's double decker set design had an institutional appearance whilst Ashley Soliman's costume design had some of the characters in period costume with the inmates in drab identical shapeless garb. We deliberately called them inmates because the attendants treated them like prisoners, which, in a sense they were. (Dear Reader, do read about the Kennedy sister who was similarly imprisoned at the behest of her father Joseph.)

The stage was filled with efficient nurses in crisp nursing attire and guards with numbered arm bands, against whom the inmates struggled. Inmates were chained together cruelly by ropes and led around. It seemed more political than medical, with the exception of a kindly doctor who stood in for the opera's Vodnik, a water goblin that the water sprites call their father, except here he is their well meaning doctor. In this role, Benjamin R. Sokol used his resonant lower register and kindly demeanor to good advantage, singing with fine tone and sympathetic inflection.

As Rusalka, super soprano Sara Stevens (see what we did there?) threw herself into the role and gave the director exactly what he wanted and, through her superlative singing, gave us what we wanted--a vocally impeccable performance. The coloration was admirable and she floated her high notes when appropriate and opened up her voice when that was dramatically called for. The deservedly famous aria "Song to the Moon" expressed a longing so deep that it brought tears to our eyes. If someone told us that Rusalka was chosen as a vehicle to show off her artistry we would believe them!

In this odd version of the story, The Prince, whilst singing about spotting a white doe while out hunting, seems to be someone who stops by the asylum to read to the patients. Fernando Silva-Gorbea employed a pleasing tenor instrument with enough tenderness that we felt sad when he was stabbed to death by Rusalka However, we were wondering how a dagger would have been left lying around in an insane asylum--just one of a number of inconsistencies caused by shoehorning the story into a Procrustean bed.

The witch Ježibaba was here some kind of matron/surgeon in strange steam-punk dress who seemed to be operating on Rusalka's brain, since the latter emerges from behind a screen with a bandage on her head that was so disfiguring that we were surprised that The Prince fell in love with her. Of course, the entire thing must have been the hallucination of a paranoid schizophrenic, although a lot of women in these asylums were consigned there for dubious reasons. Qing Liu gave a fine performance in the role, employing a threatening demeanor and steely vocal coloration.

There was even some comic relief during the interaction between the Gamekeeper (Kevin Mann) and the frightened kitchen helper (Jordan Lee Gilbert) whose conversation served to advance the story about the Prince's affection wavering between Rusalka and The Foreign Princess, given an appropriate haughtiness by Su Hyeon Park.

Every voice we heard was of the highest equality, including the trio of Woodsprites (mental patients) comprising Xinran Du, Raine Filbert, and Yiqian Heng. Although Rusalka's "Song to the Moon" is the deservedly famous number, the trio in Act II would make as fine a concert piece as we have ever heard. 

Although Czech is not one of our languages, its plethora of consonants did not seem to hinder any of the singers and we were thrilled that the opera was sung in Czech since the composer's music is so well married to the text. Kudos to the large chorus and their chorus Master Jackson McKinnon.

Maestro Kelly Kuo led the Manhattan School of Music Orchestra through Dvořák's melodic and colorful score with excellent Slavic style. The weird storytelling was so distracting that at times we just closed our eyes and listened to the way the master composer told the story. Let us credit also the fine dramatic lighting of Ron Collins.

If we hadn't been force fed the director's concept, we might have been free to associate on our own, which is what storytelling should do. We imagined a small town girl who fell for a big city guy who was visiting her town and flirted with her because she was pretty and innocent. She followed him to the big city but couldn't match the sophistication and verbal expressiveness of his circle. She watched him getting infatuated with one of his own kind and returned home in despair, only to learn that she no longer fit in there and was ostracized. Now we certainly wouldn't foist that on other people but we sure enjoyed our own musings which, in our opinion, is what opera should do--give us something on stage that we can relate to on our own terms, from our own experiences.

In spite of the conflict between the dialogue and the visuals and switching back and forth between the folktale and the director's conceit, we were glad we went because of the overwhelmingly excellence of the musical values.

© meche kroop

DVORÁk'S REQUIEM AT CARNEGIE HALL

Stefan Egerstrom, Joshua Blue, Lindsay Ammann, and Leah Hawkins 

It was a rare opportunity to hear Dvorák's Requiem, a piece commissioned by the Birmingham Festival in England where it premiered in 1891, shortly after the master returned from his long stay in the United States. Our initial interest in the composer was aroused by living next door to his former home on 17th Street. A kindly neighbor invited us into the house and we were thrilled.  The home was demolished and the property was taken over by the hospital down the street during the AIDS epidemic and was later converted into a homeless shelter. We always felt that was a low blow, not giving sufficient respect to a seminal figure in the "musicverse".

Perhaps that disrespect  resonated with us last night when the four singers were positioned behind the orchestra where they could not be seen, at least not from our seat in the orchestra. They could be heard due to the strength and focus of their singing and when the orchestra was in a quiet place, but we would say that the desired balance was not achieved.

Maestro Leon Botstein had a huge chorus (The Bard Festival Chorus, directed by James Bagwell) and orchestra (American Symphony Orchestra) at his command and would have received  praise had he not given the singers such short shrift. That being said, the work is rarely performed and we must be grateful that we had the opportunity to hear it.

It is our mission to write about singers so we will begin there.  Two of the singers are well known to us. Soprano Leah Hawkins won our admiration a few years ago when she was a member of the Lindemann Young Artists Program.  Her voice is full-bodied and expansive with overtones that fill the hall.  Tenor Joshua Blue has been on our radar since his days at Juilliard and we never missed a chance to hear him at the student recitals and operas. To his credit, he never pushed his voice and managed somehow to float above the orchestra. It is a lovely sound and deserved to be heard.

Mezzo-soprano Lindsay Ammann. is new to us and we long to hear her in a friendlier acoustic environment. The sound is rich, full, and satisfying. Stefan Egerstrom's sturdy bass resounded well.  Our favorite movement, the "Hostias", was a quiet one and we had the best opportunity to hear the singers, beginning with Mr. Egerstrom, then Ms. Ammann , then Mr. Blue, and finally Ms. Hawkins.  We also liked the harp played by Ruth Bennett and the way the voices overlapped as if in a fugue. 

The work is a long one and therefore performed with intermission. It struck us as less nationalistic than the works with which we are more familiar. We know him best through his operas (actually, Russalka is the only one we know) and the song cycle Songs My Mother Taught Me, which we loved in German and loved even more the one time we heard it sung in Czech. His music definitely belongs to the Romantic Period. 

This work is a somber one, as befits a Requiem, and very different from the other works we have heard. The opening "Requiem aeternum"  began with a spare melody but a sudden eruption from the chorus let us know that we were in for a wild ride. There were frequent sharp bursts of fortissimi and a sobbing motif. The "Graduale" introduced a brief swirling motif of four notes-- a gruppetto. Voices bounced off each other and at a couple points our unconscious led us into Wagnerian territory which we are unable to pinpoint.

We particularly enjoyed the quietude of the gentle "Quid sum miser". We liked the flute solo in the "Recordare, Jesu pie". The "Lacrimosa" involved some insistent violins. The "Offertorium" had a lot of variety--a gentle opening that built and swelled and a lively rhythmic section. The "Sanctus" was written in 3/4 time.  The "Pie Jesu" had a lovely chorale of wind instruments.  The "Agnus Dei" that closed the work finally allowed us to hear the soprano.

We couldn't help wondering what the work might sound like if the orchestra were in the pit. Perhaps it is just my taste but we felt the singers and the text merited more importance.

© meche kroop

BOHEMIAN RHAPSODY

Richard Owen and the Adelphi Orchestra

It was a chance encounter with an oboist that led to our fortuitous awareness of the Adelphi Orchestra from across the Hudson. Learning of their program Bohemian Rhapsody we decided to attend and wallow in music of our favorite period, the second half of the 19th c. Happily, there were no nerve-wracking modern pieces to disturb our Romantic indulgence.

Not only did we get to hear some soulful solos from oboist Jacob Slattery, but we got a private inspection of all three oboes--the regular oboe, the mellow English horn, and the oboe d'amore that we've mostly heard in Early Music. We also heard a sensational young violinist tackle Saint Saëns' Introduction and Rondo Capriccioso which was written for, and made famous by Pablo de Sarasate.

At the tender age of seventeen, an age when a budding opera singer would best be overlooked, Nathan Meltzer is already playing all over the world, studying with Itzhak Perlman, and worthy of the loan from Juilliard of an 1844 Joannes Pressenda violin! And oh, what he did with that instrument! The virtuoso sections of the work were performed with style and the lyrical segments were performed with substance--and gorgeous legato. This is an artist to watch, dear readers, even if you, like me, are mostly addicted to opera.

Under the firm baton of conductor Richard Owen, the remainder of the program was similarly outstanding. We do not ever have to worry about music lovers in New Jersey being deprived! We love that Maestro Owen actually talks to the audience and tells them interesting things about what is on the program.

The program opener was Dvorák's Carnival Overture. It began with a maelstrom of lively sound, almost frenetic. The central section was lovely and lyrical.

Baritone Andrew Cummings was on hand for Mahler's Rückert Lieder which was composed initially for voice and piano and later orchestrated, adding a great deal of rich detail. We know and love these songs which are filled with deep feelings. 

Since Mr. Cummings was "on the book", we did not feel the connection that we value in vocal music so we concentrated on the orchestration, especially the marvelous oboe solos. We did admire Mr. Cummings' use of dynamic variety and his word coloration but would have to hear him another time without the score to have an appreciation of his value as a singer of lieder.

Of the five songs, our favorite was "Blicke mir nicht in die lieder" in which the string section created the sound of busy bees, hard at work making honey, Rückert's metaphor for creation.

The major work on the program was Tchaikovsky's Fifth Symphony in the stirring key of E-minor. So many symphonies strike us as a collection of varied movements; what distinguishes this symphony is a sense of dramatic unity. The theme heard in the opening movement reappears in minimal disguises in the subsequent movements and by the end of the symphony we are hearing it transmogrified by being in a major key.

We were particularly taken with the Waltz movement that occupied our imagination with scenes of a ballroom with glamorous dancers swirling around, much as one sees at the ballet.  As a matter of fact, our love of classical music came out of that very art form, which is how we can say that Tchaikovsky and Rimsky-Korsakov are responsible for our being here today!

(c) meche kroop

ANOTHER LINDEMANN TRIUMPH

Petr Nekoranec, Valeria Polunina, and Hyesang in Lindemann Recital

Let's face it.  The Lindemann Young Artist Development Program gives matchless recitals.  Since 1980 they have discovered and developed the cream of the crop of young opera singers and collaborative pianists. Those fortunate enough to be chosen receive a bounty of instruction, coaching, and performance opportunities. The stages of opera houses worldwide clamor for their talent.

Yesterday's recital at the Bruno Walter Auditorium exceeded greatness. It lasted but 75 minutes but the after effects are still with us. A recital like this can leave you totally satisfied, yet wishing it had gone on and on.  Like champagne, even when you've had enough, you still want more!

What impressed us most about these young artists was how distinctive their voices are.  So many tenors and sopranos of today sound alike; it's a special pleasure to hear voices that have unique qualities.

The appropriately named soprano Hyesang Park opened the program with a pair of songs by Purcell--"Music for a While" from Oedipus and "Sweeter than Roses" from Pausanias. This 17th c. British titan knew how to pair text and music; Ms. Park's bright tone produces a visceral effect; we could feel the bones of our middle ear vibrating and tingling.  What an incredible sensation! It is particularly pronounced in the penetrating upper register.

Her English is so perfect that we missed nary a word. Perhaps some credit must go to Patricia Brandt's coaching in English. Not only was the enunciation clear but the meaning behind the words was emphasized by astute vocal coloration. The word "cool" indeed had a chilly sound and "trembling" literally trembled. Ms. Park's expressive face matched her expressive voice such that we really understood the songs. 

Purcell wrote some gorgeous melismas that took on the character of vocalises. The vocal fireworks of the fast section were exciting as could be.  It was great to hear this artist go from legato lyricism to rapid-fire embellishments.

Five songs by Clara Schumann followed, which involved some warm colors of regret and nostalgia. Rückert's romantic text "Liebst du um Schönheit" was set by her long before Mahler set it. We have always loved Mahler's setting but there is no reason to overlook Clara Schumann's version. Clara's style is not so different from her husband's and we hear the same attention to a singable vocal line and wonderful piano writing.

Collaborative pianist Valeria Polunina created quite a storm in "Er ist gekommen" and some delightful echoing effects in "Das ist ein Tag".

The program also included a charming pair of songs by Reynaldo Hahn who managed to keep melody alive into the 20th c.! "A Chloris" and "L'Enamourée" are graceful songs and Ms. Park sang them simply, creating a dreamlike mood. The effect was that of letting the songs speak for themselves.

Tenor Petr Nekoranec has an equally distinctive sound; we don't know how to describe it except "texture". It sounds rich and multidimensional. The last time we heard Mr. Nekoranec we loved his voice but not the material. Yesterday we were over the moon about his choice of material. Antonín Dvorák wrote his Gypsy Songs in German and that is how we have always heard them.

However, the composer reset them in Czech and we were amazed at the beautiful sound of the language and how well it integrated with the text. Singing in his native tongue permitted Mr. Nekoranec to immerse himself totally in the many moods of Roma life from wild abandon to deep sorrow. The work fits him like a suit of bespoke clothing. His colorful personality emerged as he gave his all.

We also enjoyed Six Romances, Op. 38 by Rachmaninoff. The partnership between him and Ms. Polunina was particularly striking.  "The Daisies" gives the piano score some lacy filigree whereas "The Pied Piper" has a frisky quality that Mr. Nekoranec augmented with his lively personality. The haunting piano line of "A-u!" brought this superb recital to a memorable close.

We longed for an encore but there was none. We kept wondering what these two unique voices would sound like in a duet. Well, now we have something to anticipate for the future.

(c) meche kroop

MS.BOTTOMS IS THE TOPS

Jenni Seo and Amanda Lynn Bottoms (Dan K. Kurland at the piano)

We have written about mezzo-soprano Amanda Lynn Bottoms at least ten times in the past couple of years, predominantly about her appearances with Steven Blier's cabaret evenings, with a couple brief roles in a couple of operas, and a star turn as Carmen in a recent master class. She has always impressed us with her warm dusky soprano and elegant stage presence. But last night's recital at Juilliard, in honor of her Master of Music degree, showed us fresh aspects of her artistry.

Prior commitments kept us from enjoying the entire recital, but the hour we spent listening to Ms. Bottoms brought us joy and terror. Let us start with the terror because it was a very special terror.  How rare to hear a woman tackle Schubert's "Erlkonig"! How successfully she performed it!  Goethe's text is replete with supernatural horror but the work needs both a dramatically skilled singer and  aggressive hands on the piano.

Ms. Bottoms revealed herself to be a consummate storyteller, coloring her voice four different ways to bring to life each character. Moreover, her body language and facial expression were brought to bear on the individuation. When the titular character spoke, our blood ran cold, our hairs stood at attention, and we shivered.  Now that's a performance! Dan Kurland's vigorous piano added yet another dimension. We doubt we will hear the like again and we don't think we will ever forget those few minutes of horror.

Truth to tell, we did not comprehend Ms. Bottom's introduction to the set of three songs asserting that they were related. The first of the set was a beautifully sung piece by Dvorak about a broken heart; it brought Russalka's "Song to the Moon" to mind. The third of the set was "Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen" from Mahler's Ruckert-Lieder. It was also beautifully interpreted but we were still living in the Goethe and had been denied the release of applause!

A pair of songs by Brahms (Zwei Gesange, Op.91) were accompanied by the viola of Jenni Seo. The poor viola is largely overlooked and unfairly maligned. Ms. Seo was playing largely in the lower range of the instrument and it sounded like a less mellow cello. Our favorite was the lullaby "Geistliches Wiegenlied". The haunting oft-repeated motif ensures that the song will stay in one's ear for at least the remainder of the day. It was sung with appropriate tenderness.

Debussy's Chansons de Bilitis stand in a special place in our affection, especially "La Chevelure", the first and most romantic of the set. Ms. Bottoms sang it so wonderfully we wanted her to sing the rest, allowing her skill at coloring and phrasing to tell the entire story, but we will have to wait for that gift.

Instead we heard "La Fraicheur et le Feu" with the typical surreal text that Poulenc liked to set.

At this point we had to leave for the opera and missed the closing spirituals.

We had thought twice about racing up to Juilliard to experience just a part of a recital but we wouldn't have missed the experience for the world.

(c) meche kroop

CATFIGHT AT JUILLIARD

Michal Biel, Matthew Robert Swensen, and Jakub Jozef Orlinski

Of course we will be reviewing vocal music every night as usual, but let it be noted that the beauty we heard from Matthew Swensen and friends was enough to keep us fulfilled for at least the next week. We will get to the catfight later. First let us take a close look at what made tenor Matthew Swensen's graduation recital so completely fulfilling.

First of all, Mr. Swensen has a notable instrument. We are very tough on tenors who push their voices, those that shout, those that substitute volume for tone, those that throw their heads back and strangle the tone, and those that make our own throat ache.  Mr. Swensen has none of those flaws. He has a pure sweet tone that is like balm to the ear. Of course, he can express other emotions than sweetness but the tone is never disagreeable.

Secondly, Mr. Swensen is incredibly musical and phrases the text beautifully. We heard some perfect dynamic control and great artistry in the embellishments.

Thirdly, he has superb linguistic skills. We heard him in five languages. His French in Henri Duparc's "L'invitation au Voyage" was impeccable and the line was carried through in great Gallic style. His German in the Schubert lieder managed the miraculous--crisp consonants without cheating the vowels and being so completely on the breath that the line achieved an almost Italianate legato. The Italian in the Donizetti emphasized the purity of the vowels which were all connected. Even his English was understandable. We do not speak Czech but it sounded just fine.

Fourthly, he knows how to program a recital to show off his artistry and how to select a collaborative pianist (the marvelous Michal Biel) and how to bring in the right guest artist (the sensational Jakub Jozef Orlinski).

Now let's take a closer look. Henri Duparc's "L'invitation au Voyage" was sung with seductive sensuality and the mood was sustained beautifully during the interludes between verses. Phrases swelled and ebbed like the sea and the piano decrescendo at the end was so beautiful.  We realized we had been holding our breath!

Two lieder were extracted from Schubert's song cycle Die Schone Mullerin, a cycle we adore. We hope someday to hear Mr. Swensen sing the entire oeuvre based on the intense feeling with which he sang "Die liebe Farbe" and "Die bose Farbe". Mr. Biel's masterfully modulated piano underscored the hero's anguish, especially in the staccato passages.

Although we are quite familiar with Dvorak's Gypsy Songs, our familiarity extends only to the German version. It was quite ambitious for Mr. Swensen to tackle the difficult Czech language but, for us, it was a revelation to hear how precisely the music and words enjoyed simultaneous rhythm and stress. So many moods are expressed in this cycle; perhaps this is only a fantasy of gypsy life but the songs involve freedom, dancing, singing, and even the quietude of the forest. Perhaps our favorite is "Songs my mother taught me" which is tender and nostalgic. Mr. Swensen and Mr. Biel captured all the moods.

In "Una Furtiva Lagrima" from Donizetti's L'elisir d'amore, Mr. Swensen put his own spin on Nemorino's character, a less sentimental one than we are accustomed to but an interpretation no less valid. We heard a beautifully controlled portamento and a stunning decrescendo at the end.  There was no grandstanding, just great music.

Although we will never be fans of religious music, we can still admire it when it is well performed and we have nothing but good things to say about "Comfort Ye" from Handel's Messiah. The English was clear, the fioritura well negotiated, and the dynamics well controlled.

Britten's Canticle II is a scene between the biblical characters Abraham and Isaac during which father explains to son why he will be sacrificed. The very idea makes us shudder. We saw this scene in a staged version at Chelsea Opera a few years ago and it upset us then as well.  That being said, Mr. Swensen assumed the role of Abraham with guest artist countertenor Jakub Jozef Orlinski assuming the role of the child. Mr. Swensen shared with the audience his childhood experience of performing this work with his own father.  "And now" he said "Mr. Orlinski will be my son".

It was very well done and we loved the sonority of the two voices together creating the voice of God. What interesting harmonies we heard!

The evening would not end without the catfight. You, dear reader, have been waiting to hear about that and we will not disappoint you. The encore comprised both singers performing Rossini's hilarious concert duet "Duetto buffo di due gatti". This was written for two sopranos and we never even considered hearing it with male voices. It was an original idea and it worked beyond one's highest expectations as the two artists hissed and clawed their way to become top dog--rather top cat. We can't decide on the winner.

(c) meche kroop

MORE MORLEY PLEASE

Erin Morley

We can still recall the first time we heard soprano Erin Morley in recital (just before we started writing about singers) and we were blown away by the purity of her voice and the warmth of her connection with the material and the audience.  Every time we have heard her we have been increasingly impressed.  Her groundbreaking performance at the Santa Fe Opera in the role of the eponymous "Rossignol" of Stravinsky's opera has led to our calling her by that name.

But we also recall with pleasure hearing her as Adellina Vocedoro-Gambalunghi in Mozart's Der Schauspieldirektor, her "Marten alle Arten" at a Richard Tucker celebration, and also delivering fireworks in some Mozart concert arias at a Mostly Mozart night. And also singing a duet with Isabel Leonard on a beastly hot night in Central Park--"Oh, belle nuit" from Offenbach's Les Contes d'Hoffman.

It was Olympia's aria from that same opera--"Les oiseaux dans la charmille"-- that knocked our socks off last night at the 19th annual Alice Tully Vocal Arts Recital.  It was her first encore; her coloratura fireworks and charming dramatic skills brought the cheering audience at Alice Tully Hall to their collective feet for a prolonged and well deserved standing ovation.  Those skips and those trills left no doubt that Ms. Morley is a MAJOR talent and a splendid choice to receive this award.

A true Juilliard daughter, she earned her Masters Degree there and her Artists Diploma as well. The Lindemann Program and a number of prestigious awards brought her to the attention of the opera world and has resulted in worldwide fame. 

Working in perfect sync with the highly esteemed collaborative pianist Ken Noda, Ms. Morley planned a most unusual program based on different types of love. Instead of arranging the program by composer, she devoted each set to a different stage of love. Schubert's "Lied der Delphine" expresses unthinking adolescent infatuation in a charming fashion.

The section on erotic love comprised Joaquin Rodrigo's sprightly "De donde venis, amore?" and Enrique Granados' tender "El mirar de la maja" which blossomed into a passionate response from the beloved, granting Ms. Morley multiple opportunities for variations in color and dynamics. We also heard Brahms' provocative "Therese".

If the section on motherly love was particularly lovely, we attribute it to the fact that Ms. Morley has an adorable youngster (we can attest to this as her family joined her in Santa Fe when we reviewed her performances) and another on the way.  Dvorak's profound tribute to what passes from mother to daughter--"Songs My Mother Taught Me"-- was sung in Czech with Mr. Noda's piano contributing a Bohemian flavor.

Her delivery of Rachmaninoff's "Margaritki" allowed us to appreciate the symbolism of daisies as little girls, something that somehow had escaped our imagination heretofore. Mr. Noda's trills added to the vocal thrills. Especially symbolic (of pregnancy) was Schumann's "Der Himmel hat eine Trane geweint"; we may never hear those two songs the same way again. Ms. Morley's interpretation opened our ears and our heart--what all fine artistry should do!

For sheer pleasure we would exalt Strauss' "Amor". Ms. Morley's crystalline coloratura seems made for Strauss and, indeed, she will be heard at the Met as Sophie in Der Rosenkavalier. Her high notes soar into the stratosphere and the embellishments are always incredibly exciting. Her rapport with the audience grew as she related how she identifies her child with the rascal Amor.

Unrequited love was explored in the next set, limning various ways a woman reacts to betrayal. We have always responded to Hugo Wolf's "Das verlassene Magdlein", a very sad song about a young woman just going through the motions of getting through another day. For the first time we noticed that during the piano interlude, when the subject recalls her dream of the prior night, the piano flips to major for a couple seconds. It was such a poignant moment.

Mozart's "Als Luise die Briefe ihres ungetreuen Liebhabers verbrannte" is yet another favorite. In this song, the spunky heroine tries to extinguish the fire within by burning the man's love letters. All the passion and resolve were heard in Mozart's marvelous vocal line.

The grief of losing a love to death was the subject of the next set.  Our favorite here was Edvard Grieg's "Zur Rosenzeit", another instance where the symbolism became clearer for us. Goethe's text scans and rhymes magnificently and Ms. Morley sang it sensitively.

A set of songs on sacred love closed the recital. Ms. Morley has some happy memories of singing in the Salt Lake Children's Choir and gave pride of place to the song "Little Lamb", a setting of a William Blake text by choir director Ralph B. Woodward. This is a simple melody and Ms. Morley can handle simplicity just as well as fireworks. As a surprising bonus, every word was clear and we hardly ever find that in sung English.

We loved the intensity of Tchaikovsky's "Whether Day Dawns" and Mr. Noda's piano was powerful throughout, lending gravitas. But it was the final song by Strauss that we loved the most--the well known "Zueignung" sung with deep feeling and impressive artistry.

The recital did credit to Ms. Morley, to Mr. Noda and to Juilliard, from whence so much artistry emanates.

(c) meche kroop

BECZALA AND KATZ AT ZANKEL HALL

Piotr Beczala (photo by Johannes Ifkovits)

He dazzled us as Vaudémont in Tchaikovsky's Iolante at the Metropolitan Opera last season and he seemed to dazzle the audience last night at Zankel Hall in his New York recital debut. Sadly, we were not dazzled. There is a great difference between opera and art song. One of the cardinal rules of a song recital is engaging the audience. There are no sets and costumes to help the singer along.

Although this marvelous tenor seemed very much connected to the songs he chose, he failed to connect very well with us and that may be attributed to his use of the music stand for the entire recital, even for the encore. Perhaps he was anxious or too busy to commit the works to memory, but we found the constant glancing down and turning of pages distracting; it left us feeling that we were witnessing a rehearsal, not a performance.

We have lost interest in song recitals held at Stern Auditorium because of the difficulty of achieving intimacy in such a large space; we decided to focus on the vocal series held at Zankel Hall and the even more intimate Weill Recital Hall. At a song recital, we are not at all interested in the fame of the singer; we want to feel what the composer felt when he set the text; we want to feel what the singer feels when he sings it.

That being said, the program was well chosen and we got to hear songs in Polish by a composer with whom we were unfamiliar. Mieczyslaw Karlowicz was a contemporary of Rachmaninoff and his work exhibits the same sort of lush melodic invention. They seemed to us like "popular" music (we mean that in the most positive way) in that they are incredibly accessible. One wants to sing along! But who but a Polish artist could negotiate those mouthfuls of consonants!

The poor composer died young and has yet to achieve great renown abroad. We hope Mr. Beczala's performance will change all that. We want to hear them again.  And yet again. They are romantic in nature and replete with the melancholy so extant in music from Poland, whose history has not been a cheerful one.

Dvorák's Gypsy Songs remain among our favorite song cycles and hearing them in Czech is a special thrill. We recently reviewed such a performance by Jamie Barton whose voice touched our heart and made our feet want to dance. Last night we had no such reaction.  Neither Mr. Beczala nor his collaborative pianist Martin Katz evoked the wild gypsy spirit which can embrace both joyful abandon and deep sorrow.

Sergei Rachmaninoff's songs are always a treat and we got to hear a quartet of them with "Sing not to me, beautiful maiden" (please forgive us for not giving you the Russian!) evoking the deep feeling of estrangement that we identify with "In der fremde" from Schumann's Liederkreis Op. 39. Once, we had this feeling listening to a Bhutanese folksong and inquired about the meaning; yes indeed, it was about a man separated from his family!

The first half of the program was the performance of Schumann's Dichterliebe, Op. 48, a loose chronicle of a love affair gone wrong, for unknown reasons. The songs have great variety of rhythm and dynamics and offer the singer an opportunity to express a variety of moods.

There is a beautiful moment of suspension between the tender opening song "Im wunderschönen Monat Mai" and the following "Aus meinen Tränen spriessen". Mr. Beczala captured the rapturous excitement of "Die Rose, die Lilie, die Taube, die Sonne" in which the words tumble out right on top of each other.

In terms of vocal production, Mr. Beczala sounded secure in the middle and lower registers but sounded strained in the upper register. His German diction was good enough to be understood but fell short of perfection.

We would like to share our observations about his collaborative pianist Martin Katz. Because we were feeling less than totally involved with the voice, we paid more attention to the piano. We have often experienced Mr. Katz as being heavy handed, having nearly drowned out baritone Jesse Blumberg when they performed Schubert's Winterreise and Die Schöne Müllerin.

Last night his touch was a bit lighter and we could appreciate just how fine a pianist he is. In the ponderous "Im Rhein, im heiligen Strome" he played the Bach-like chorale in a manner that evoked the cathedral in Köln. In "Und wüsten's die Blumen, die kleinen", his piano sang of the poet's agitation while Mr. Beczala sang the descending scale passages.

Similarly, he produced a haunting hurdy-gurdy sound in "Das ist ein Flöten und Geigen". In "Hör ich das Liedchen Klangen", the quiet song grew into grand grief. In "Ein Jüngling liebt ein Mädchen", the piano goes for a false jolly sound while the vocal line expresses suffering. We also enjoyed the harplike arpeggios of "Am leuchtenden Sommermorgen" and "Die alten, bösen Lieder".

As encore, Mr. Beczala made an effort to connect with his American audience by singing the oft recorded "Bless This House", written in 1927 by May Brahe with lyrics by Helen Taylor. It seemed to us a strange choice but the audience seemed to appreciate it.

(c) meche kroop

JOY QUADRUPLED

Lachlan Glen, Dimitri Dover, Steven Eddy, and Lilla Heinrich Szász

Joy of Singing was born in 1958 as an award program to foster the performance of art songs with special attention paid to interpretation and communication.  It was begun by Winifred Cecil, a noted singer and teacher. The program continues and is flourishing under the musical direction of Paul Sperry . Every year the winner of the competition is given a recital. This year, the quality of the competitors was so high that the judges were obliged to share the prize.

Thus it was that we had the opportunity last night at Merkin Concert Hall to hear two gifted singers and two exemplary collaborative pianists perform a program of art songs in several languages and a variety of styles.

Soprano Lilla Heinrich Szász has impressed us since her days at Juilliard, eventually winning their 2013 Honor's Recital among many other honors, all richly deserved. She has a lively winning onstage personality and a glorious ringing instrument that she easily bends to her will.

Her collaborative pianist, Australian Lachlan Glen, is also well known to us for several years, having won us over by his producing all of Franz Schubert's songs over the period of a year--a delicious extravagance never to be forgotten.  If there is a better interpreter of Schubert alive today we would be surprised. Besides this, he has incredible sensitivity to the singer. We noticed him actually breathing with Ms. Szász in rhythm.

Naturally, Schubert songs were selected to open the program and we were glad for it. "Vedi quanto adoro ancora ingrato!" is a bit unusual for Schubert; it is sung in Italian, the setting of a text by Pietro Metastasio. It was the perfect vehicle to show off both passion and delicacy in both artists.

We also heard the sorrowful "Die Liebe hat gelogen", the gentle "Der Jüngling an der Quelle" in which Mr. Glen's piano became rather spry, and the intense "Die junge Nonne", the most familiar of the set. The two artists drew us in totally with Ms. Szász seemingly losing herself in the throes of religious ecstasy and Mr. Glen creating quite a storm in the piano.

From a century later came four folk songs set by Zoltán Kodály which Ms. Szász, whose roots are Transylvanian, sang in Hungarian.  Fortunately she translated them herself for the program. We heard cries of despair and poverty, not the cheerful folk songs of Brahms. Our favorite was the final song which bore a mournful melody. The final note hung suspended in mid air.

The final set comprised songs by Benjamin Britten, the first of which was a setting of a W.H. Auden poem "Fish in the Unruffled Lakes" which did not make much sense to us. We greatly preferred "The Salley Gardens" to a text by W. B. Yeats.  The final song "Calypso" from Cabaret Songs had an urgent rhythm, with Mr. Glen creating the sound of a railroad train in his piano.

The second half of the program was given over to the other prize winner--baritone Steven Eddy and collaborative pianist Dimitri Dover. The two seemed to enjoy a special partnership, opening with one of our favorite Brahms songs "Meine Liebe ist grün". Another Brahms song "Botschaft" was performed later and we would have preferred hearing them in the same set. They are both so melodic and romantic.

Instead, there were two songs by Clara Schumann interposed. The first, "O weh des Scheidens, das er tat" was a sad one and seemed unresolved at the end.  The second "Liebst du um Schönheit" was quite lovely but suffered a bit by comparison to the Richard Strauss setting with which all lied lovers are far more familiar. (We couldn't help thinking of the Löwe setting of Frauen Lieben und Leben which one rarely hears because of Schumann's arguably better setting.)

Mr. Eddy excelled in his interpretation of Barber's Mélodies passagères. We enjoyed Barber's music so much better in French and we think that Rilke's poetry inspired him to new heights. Mr. Eddy's French served the music well and the fact that he translated them himself likely increased his involvement.  Particularly suited to his voice was "Le clocher chante" and Mr. Dover's piano made sure we heard the carillon. We also liked "Départ" a great deal.

Mr. Eddy explained the Jake Heggie songs which followed.  They were written for baritone Nathan Gunn and were inspired by paintings in the Dallas Art Museum. We found the concept more interesting than the music. Mr. Eddy's English diction is better than most but we still missed a lot of the words and there was no text provided to read. Our English-speaking companion was of the same opinion.

Fortunately the remainder of Mr. Eddy's program was thrilling. We love Dvorák's Gypsy Songs and have mainly heard them in German. Mr. Eddy, to our delight, sang them in Czech. We do not understand the language but loved the way the melody and the rhythm of the words lined up It was a spirited song about a folk dance and we were ready to get up and dance!

Similarly, we loved Respighi's "Invito alla danza", a more sedate and romantic song and perhaps our favorite song by this early 20th c. composer. Following along with the dance theme was Camille Saint-Saëns' "Danse macabre" and that's one dance we'd like to pass up!

If all we had heard were the encore we would have considered it a successful evening. That's just how wonderful it was!  From a rare Donizetti opera entitled Il Campanello di Notte, we heard the Brindisi "Mesci, mesci". Mr. Glen joined Mr. Dover for a four-handed accompaniment while Ms. Szász and Mr. Eddy performed with gusto and glee. We considered ourselves well prepared for the champagne reception upstairs!

(c) meche kroop

GYPSY MAGIC AT OPERA AMERICA

Kathleen Kelly and Antonina Chehovska

Soprano Antonina Chehovska first came to our attention at a pair of recitals presented last June by the International Vocal Arts Institute. (reviews archived). We are delighted to report that her prodigious talent is not just a "flash in the pan" and that there is evidence of artistic growth even in the past couple months.

Thanks to Opera Columbus and the Cooper-Bing vocal competition, of which Ms. Chehovska is a winner, we had the opportunity to hear her perform a challenging program this afternoon at The National Opera Center. The competition was begun by Irma M. Cooper in 1983 just 2 years after she founded Opera Columbus. Current funding has been greatly accelerated by the generosity of Arthur and Hetty Bing who were present at the recital and who seemed to be enjoying it just as much as we were.

"Enjoying" may be considered unduly faint praise. It would be more accurate to say that we were thrilled--perhaps even to the point of being in an altered state of consciousness.

At first, this gifted soprano transported us to the world of the Roma people with Antonin Dvořak's Gypsy Songs, op. 55. The melodies and harmonies leave nothing to be desired and neither did Ms. Chehovska's performance. Her instrument and her technique (both enviable) took a back seat to her interpretive artistry as she expressed the gypsy love of music, dancing, romance, nostalgia, and freedom. Dvořak gave each song a different mood and Ms. Chehovska gave each one a different coloring. Even the joyful songs are tinged with melancholy.

We have heard these songs in English (not so good) and in German (much better) but to hear them in the original Czech was a special treat. We do not speak Czech but it was unmistakeable how Dvořak married the rhythm of the phrases to the rhythm of the music. Ms. Chehovska's special talent lay in her total immersion in the story she was telling; she wrapped herself in each story much as she wrapped herself in a huge shawl. We found ourself smiling along or getting teary-eyed as the text suggested.

Six Romances, op.38 by the late Romantic Russian composer Sergei Rachmaninoff were given comparable attention to detail. The songs tell of longing, love, and loss--and bring in references to elements of nature. Each one was a deeply felt miniature. As an audience member we felt invited by the artist to share her deepest feelings.

Tatiana's letter scene from Tchaikovsky's Eugene Onegin followed. We had just last night watched Renée Fleming's performance on a 2007 DVD and felt that Ms. Chehovska's interpretation was more believable; one was able to witness the impetuous teenager with all the features entering into a first infatuation--so far out of her comfort zone. We enjoyed Ms. Chehovska's performance with IVAI enormously but feel she has dug even deeper into the character this time around.

The same care was lavished on three songs by Tom Cipullo from Late Summer, to a somewhat lesser effect, since the text was unmusical.  It would be difficult to make music from phrases like "What makes the engine go?" but the artist did her best.

We were far more enchanted by the final set on the program--songs by a 20th c. Ukrainian composer, Severyn Saprun,  who wisely chose poetry from the 18th and 19th c. which seemed to inspire lavish melodies and harmonies that we would definitely wish to hear again. We never knew how musical a language Ukrainian is!

Kathleen Kelly's sensitive accompanying is not to be overlooked. We particularly enjoyed the pianism in Rachmaninoff's "Daisies" and in Saprun's "I love, I love". Ms. Kelly can be forceful when the song is robust but delicate when the song is melancholy.

The recital was the first in this season's  Emerging Artist Recital Series held by Opera America at the National Opera Center. If you are not already a member of Opera America, we would urge you to join. Membership cost is nominal and the benefits are huge for singers and accompanists, and those who love them. 

(c) meche kroop

A HEART-ON FOR BARTON

Jamie Barton --photo by Stacey Bode

When an opera singer gets a lengthy standing ovation with whoops and shouts, the world must sit up and take notice.  This generation has not seen the likes of mezzo-soprano Jamie Barton whose stardom is assured.  If folks outside of the opera world got to hear last night's recital at Zankel Hall, Beyoncé might be knocked off her perch.

When we speak of a complete artist, this is what we have in mind: a thrilling instrument, perfect technique, compelling stage presence, engagement with the material and rapport with the audience.  All this Ms. Barton has in spades.  Her richly textured voice reminds one of a chocolatey porter; it is as smooth and weighty as burnished brass.

The remarkable feature is that every song sounds different as Ms. Barton seems to channel the intent of the poet.  This was particularly evident in the set of Schubert songs, each a very particular setting of poetry by Goethe.  Schubert chose the texts wisely, as wisely as Ms. Barton did in selecting them for her program.

The ballad "Der König in Thule" was a chance to tell a story whereas "Gretchen am Spinnrade", (with Bradley Moore's piano keeping the spinning wheel spinning obsessively), is more of a mood piece, reaching its desperate apogee with the words "sein kuss" lapsing into rapture. On this phrase, Ms, Barton opened up her voice and gave us goosebumps. "Schäfers Klagelied" was imbued with a lovely lilting waltz feeling while "Rastlose Liebe" was, well, restless. It was a stunning set.

No less stunning were Ernest Chausson's elegiac chansons, all delicacy and tenderness.  We loved all three: "Le colibri" was so effective that we saw the hummingbird drowning in the cup of the hibiscus.  The charming "Hébé" speaks of lost youth and "Le temps des lilas" speaks of lost love and the irreversibility of time.  All this was captured by this gifted artist and her fine collaborative pianist Bradley Moore.  The long lyric lines were typically Gallic in character. What memorable melodies he wrote!

Readers will recall how fond we are of Spanish music and can imagine how thrilled we were to be introduced to Joaquín Turina's Homenaje a Lope de Vega comprising three songs marked by classical technique and folky melodies.  Although the first canción "Cuando tan hermosa os miro" addressed romantic disappointment, the second "Si con mis deseos" was filled with spirit, and the final "Al val de Fuentes Ovejuna" told of a knight determined to win over a reluctant beauty.

Antonín Dvořák's Gypsy Songs are deeply emotional and convey all the freedom of gypsy life that we fantasize about.  We have heard them many times in German but this was the first time we heard them in the original Czech of Adolf Heyduk.  It was fascinating to hear the melody follow the sound of the language, even though we don't understand a single word of Czech.  There is much sadness in these songs as well as the thrill of the dance, not to mention the nostalgia for the poet's learning to sing from his elderly mother. The emotional sweep had a huge impact as Ms. Barton dug deeply into her feelings.

Contemporary composer Jake Heggie wrote a cycle entitled The Work at Hand, sung without break, a setting of poetry written by Laura J. Morefield who was struggling with cancer.  In the text there is courage, grace, joy and hope.  The audience seemed to love it and Ms. Barton was accompanied by cellist Anne Martindale Williams as well as piano. The piece was written for Ms. Barton and last night was its world premiere. She will also premiere in the orchestral version with the Pittsburgh Symphony.

The work opens with some punchy nervous music and the cello plays some strange ascending scales while the voice enjoys some lovely melismatic passages.  We preferred the music in the latter part when the piano played a gentle tinkly theme on the upper reaches of the keyboard.  We did not find the vocal line particularly musical but Ms. Barton invested it with meaning.  Every now and then we caught a few words but, like most singing in English, not very many.  Still, the free verse did not seem to lend itself to a melodic vocal line and, for our taste, did not thrill as did the rest of the program.

For encores, Ms. Barton sang two spirituals: "His Eye Is On The Sparrow" and "Ride On King Jesus".  How interesting that every word was clear!

ⓒ meche kroop

JOHN + MARIO = MAGIC

Mario Antonio Marra and John Brancy

When the judges of the Marilyn Horne Song Competition chose baritone John Brancy and pianist Mario Antonio Marra as their 2013 winners they chose extraordinarily well.  This pair made magic yesterday in their recital at the National Opera Center.  When Mr. Brancy performs Robert Schumann's Dichterliebe at Carnegie Hall (no doubt he will have that opportunity), we will sit there smugly knowing that we heard it in the intimate environment that the work demands.

Mr. Brancy is a born storyteller and sings from a place deep within; he sings in an expressive manner that never panders to the audience but rather invites the audience to join him on his profound inward journey.  Unlike Schubert's song cycles, Dichterliebe is an inner journey.  There is no leierman, no miller, no brook, no frost on the window.  There is just the singer and his tale of a love lost, indeed lost rather early in the cycle. 

The remainder of the cycle relates the varying emotions he feels as he works through the loss; we experience with him the stages of anger, grief, bitterness, despair and ultimately acceptance as he confines his old songs to an hyperbolic coffin given a burial at sea.  Mr. Brancy and Mr. Marra plumbed every emotional depth leaving us feeling emotionally wrung out but artistically satisfied.

We welcomed the respite of intermission to restore our equanimity.  Three songs by Dvořák followed and we recalled an evening at Juilliard when we spent an evening listening to and growing accustomed to the sound of the difficult Czech language.  The effort spent in learning to sing in Czech yielded a big bonus for the listener since the songs are beyond lovely.

The first two were settings of Greek poems about mothers and sons.  In the first, a woman is learning of her son's successes in destroying Turkish pashas and armies and the second related the tale of a shepherd who disobeys his mother's advice and plays his pipes for the Nereids.  A third song entitled "Cypresses" was about the pains of love and had some gorgeous melodies typical of the composer's nationalistic bent.

Following this we heard the premiere of Force, an impressive work commissioned by Gary Portadin--a collaboration between composer Chris Kapica, poet Robert Corsini and Mr. Brancy.  In a universe of ugly and meaningless contemporary poetry which has been set to equally ugly and meaningless music, this work shines as brightly as Jupiter in the night sky.  The theme of man overcoming a mechanistic world and achieving identity through creative self-definition is a worthwhile subject for exploration.  Mr. Corsini's poetry rhymes (!) and scans (!!) and Mr. Kapica's music expresses and augments the ideas both the mechanistic ones and the spiritual ones, challenging the listener without hurting the ears.  Mr. Brancy's performance seemed to come from a very profound place.

The program concluded with three 20th c. American songs that were given the same attention and respect as lieder.  In each case Mr. Marra played with the songs in his own superb arrangements that tickled the ear.  In Hoagy Carmichael's "The Nearness of You" Mr. Brancy's beautiful baritone caressed each word as Mr. Marra's digits caressed the keys of the piano.  We heard some truly gorgeous floated top notes.

Jerome Kern's "The Folks Who Live on the Hill" was given a jazzy treatment by Mr. Marra in beautiful counterpoint to Mr. Brancy's sincerity.  Cole Porter's "Night and Day" offered a fine sense of fun with twinkles in the eyes. 

As an encore, Stephen Foster's "Beautiful Dreamer" was sung in tribute to Marilyn Horne.  How many times we have listened to her sing this treasure on You Tube!  It was the perfect end to a magical recital.  We will fall into bed with some beautiful dreams of a well-spent evening.

© meche kroop

HYONA KIM'S JOY IN SINGING

HyoNa Kim (photo by Devon Cass) and Bretton Brown (photo by A. Moeller)

Our idea of a great recital isn't that different from our idea of a great meal.  Each "course" has different flavors, colors and textures; there are dishes one has never tasted before; one leaves feeling nourished and replete and yet...somehow wanting more.  Such was the case last night at the Joy in Singing presentation of their 2013 Award Winner mezzo-soprano Hyona Kim with her collaborative pianist Bretton Brown who was with her in total support every step of the way.  What a team!

Ms. Kim is so secure in her terrific technique and so poised onstage that she can afford to immerse herself in the texts and make each audience member feel as if she is singing just to them.  Indeed, she weaves a spell that draws people in.  We witnessed an amazing control of dynamics.  When she lets go the very molecules of air dance to her vibrato; when she spins a thread of soft sound, we lean in to meet her.  The colors in her voice are multiple and augmented by gesture and facial expression.  There are stories to be told and she tells them.

The program opened with Sieben Lieder von Elisabeth Kulmann by Robert Schumann who set the texts of this unfortunate poet who lived a sad life and died at 17.  She lives on in this gorgeous music brought to life by Ms. Kim in German so crisp that we never had to look at the translations.  We particularly enjoyed Mr. Brown's evocative pianism in "Die letzen Blumen starben".  The deeply sorrowful mood was lifted by the humor of Erik Satie's chansons which followed.  Ms. Kim is anything but pompous and had a great time illustrating the bronze statue of the frog who provides nighttime lodging for sleepy insects.  The program notes gave a fine explanation of the French wordplay in "Daphénéo" which we wished we had figured out on our own!  "Je te veux" was incredibly romantic.

Three lovely settings of texts by Pushkin followed and we were delighted to be hearing the seldom heard music of Nikolai Medtner which gave Mr. Brown the opportunity to indulge what must be a Russian soul.  Ms. Kim conveyed two different types of lost love--one that had passed by and one towards a lover that had passed away.  Our eyes were not the only ones that filled with tears at this passionate music.

In this carefully wrought recital, nothing was commonplace.  After the intermission we heard a set of light-hearted songs by a multiplicity of composers dealing with animals--as in Noah's ark.  Ned Rorem composed two songs about the same animal--"Snake" and "Serpent".  We preferred the latter for its clever rhymes.  ("All this is futile, I do not like to bang or tootle").  We do enjoy English most when there are clever rhymes!  David Sisco's "Judged by the Company One Keeps" had the audience chortling with glee.

The final set of the evening comprised songs about biblical King David and his prayers.  We love our Dvořák and his setting of "Sing to the lord a new song" was music to our ears as well.  Ravel's "Kaddish" was movingly sung in Hebrew.  As encore Ms. Kim and Mr. Brown performed a setting of "The Lord's Prayer" by UnYoung La, sung in Korean.  That makes six languages heard in one recital, all beautifully handled--an international meal for the musical epicure.

ⓒ meche kroop