A FLAWLESS LIEDER RECITAL AT WEILL RECITAL HALL

Ying Fang, super-star soprano (photo by Dario Acosta)

A perfect performance of the kind of music one prefers to hear can totally transform one's mood. The rainy day glum gave way to a sunshine-y kind of joy under the influence of Ying Fang's artistry. With the superlative collaborative pianist Ken Noda, we heard the kind of music that formed the basis for the art song recital.  Happily (for us), no new ground was tilled. We don't go to lieder recitals to be intellectually challenged by obscure texts.  We go to be delighted and emotionally moved. 

Ms. Fang has been the object of our adoration for at least six years. What great fortune for the opera world that Mr. Noda discovered her in Shanghai! Her advanced studies at Juilliard brought her to our attention.  Perhaps the first review was for her Zerlina. We also adored her Susanna. Several appearances in recitals just continued to impress us with her artistry.

It was a coup for Carnegie Hall to snag her for this eagerly awaited recital. Weill Recital Hall was a perfect venue for her intimate performing style. Although she has the physical beauty and fashion sense to come across as a diva, she does not. She commands the stage by virtue of confidence and professionality. She draws us into her world with a nod, a smile, or a well-timed glance.

In programming this recital, she took us to the very roots of lieder, with a few other selections to pepper the tasty stew. Her focused bell-like soprano delights the ear and her lightness of touch seemed perfect for Mozart. She knows exactly what she is singing about and brings out the subtext with subtle artistry. This may be the first time we appreciated the symbolism of a flower that blooms too early, or one that willingly sacrifices itself for love.

Mozart's melodic magic was everywhere evident and his abrupt shifts from major to minor were strongly delineated by Ms. Fang and the very present Mr. Noda. The German text was clearly enunciated and the word coloration conveyed every nuance, amplified by Ms. Fang's expressive face.

This made us think about the artifice of the lieder recital. The preparation is intense but the performance must seem spontaneous and natural. 

The sets alternated between Mozart and Schubert, who came along a generation or two later, but seemed to have composed with Mozart whispering in his ear and guiding his pen. If only one of them could return to earth and guide the pens of today's composers! That they both chose wonderful texts, texts that rhyme and scan, like those of Goethe and Müller, surely affected the flow of melody and phrasing. Ms. Fang and Mr. Noda seemed totally tuned into these aspects and gave each text apposite phrasing.

We loved the sweet and happy songs like Mozart's "Un moto di gioia" and "Ruhe sanft, mein holdes Leben",  an aria from his unfinished opera Zaide. We had similar pleasures from Schubert's passionate "Ganymed". But there were other emotions to hold dear, like the angry "Als Luise die Briefe" by Mozart, and Schubert's wistful "Im Frühling".  But our most profound feeling came from Mozart's "Abendempfindung" which brings tears to our eyes when it is well performed.  It was and it did!

Mr. Noda's artistry always impresses us.  Last night we loved the hymn-like prelude to Schubert's "Im Abendrot" and the rocking piano which gave "Nacht und Träume" the feel of a lullaby.  There was plenty going on in the piano part of "Viola" and we observed how deeply the two artists listened to one another and reflected upon each other. This lengthy lied comprises multiple moods and varied tempi.

For opera lovers, we had Susanna's final aria from Mozart's Nozze di Figaro, a role in which we have enjoyed Ms. Fang's performance. Without excess, she subtly let us know that Susanna was "performing" for her new husband. The wide upward skips were artistically negotiated.

The final work on the program was Mozart's concert aria "Misera, dove son"; the opening messa di voce grabbed our attention and the lavish embellishments reinforced the character's anguish.

Thankfully, we were gifted with two encores, loudly demanded by the capacity crowd--"In trutina" from Carl Orff's Carmina Burana (sung in Latin), and Rachmaninoff's "The Dream". We could say that the entire evening was like a dream come true!

(c) meche kroop

THE SONG CONTINUES

Marilyn Horne and John Brancy

Ken Noda

It's been a long time since a man made us weep.  The intensity of last night's recital left us close to blubbering.  Baritone John Brancy's artistry is such that his exquisite technique has become invisible which leaves him free to connect with the audience and to bring his mature comprehension of the text directly to the heart of the listener.

This is not a showy performer; he uses an economy of gesture and a depth of feeling to bring us to the point of view of the poet.  The instrument is an excellent one with a pleasingly mature resonance, but it is the story-telling aspect of the performance that one remembers best.  And it's all done without any artifice whatsoever.

The recital was the initial event in what was formerly called "Marilyn Horne's Birthday Week", now under the auspices of Carnegie Hall.  The intimate Weill Recital Hall was the perfect venue for a recital of this type and Mr. Brancy scaled his voice to the size of the hall.

The theme of the recital was music from around the period of The Great War; therefore most of the songs were a century old.  At this time, the Free World is at war with Muslim Fundamentalists.  It is indeed a very different type of war but the consequences are similar.  There are premature deaths, separations from loved ones, privations and anxiety about the future.  We can identify.

Mr. Brancy's astonishingly fine diction in English, French and German, accompanied by innate musical phrasing, made the words completely comprehensible, along with the message of the text.  At times it seemed as if he were "tasting" the words he sang although "savoring" might be a better word.

Mr. Noda's sensitive and supportive accompanying made the piano part an essential part of the communication.  There were instances when the poet was being, well, poetic but the piano revealed the anger and pain underneath.

We particularly enjoyed the six songs from George Butterworth's A Shropshire Lad with texts by A.E. Housman. The songs are about youth, nostalgia, aging, separation and death.  Their power lay in their universality of message and the richness of the melodies. It was particularly painful to read that the composer died in the war shortly after composing the songs.

The quartet of song by Carl Orff were powerful and evinced a substantial heap of anger with their dissonant chords.  A trio of French songs captivated us.  Ravel's "Trois beaux oiseaux du Paradis" utilized the colors of the French flag to symbolize messages from an absent lover.  Debussy's lament for the children suffering from the consequences of war "Noël des enfants qui n'ont plus de maisons" was so effectively performed that we were way beyond dabbing our eyes with a tissue.  We were close to sobbing.

There were also two songs by Charles Ives--the angry and dissonant "In Flanders Field" and the gently nostalgic "Tom Sails Away".  "Popular" songs of the era (and how are they any different from "art songs" we may ask) included Ivor Novello's rousing encouragement to "Keep the Home Fires Burning" with Mr. Noda's piano contradicting the optimism.  The prayerful "God Be With Our Boys Tonight" involved some lovely tender arpeggios in the piano.  "Danny Boy" was a fitting and soulful final song, sounding quite different from when sung by an Irish tenor.

We have reviewed Mr. Brancy often, since he was an undergraduate at Juilliard. The seeds of his artistry were there from the start and we have revelled in witnessing the flowering of his talent.  It is no wonder that he is achieving recognition worldwide and garnering prizes from prestigious institutions.  His selection as the winner of the Marilyn Horne song Competition in 2013 was well deserved.  It was a major delight to experience him in a new light.  Truth to tell, some of those tears were tears of joy.

ⓒ meche kroop