CROSSOVER!

 Baptiste Trotignon and Kate Lindsey

Can it really have been a dozen years since we first wrote about mezzo-soprano Kate Lindsey? We recall it well. It was at one of Steve Blier's notable New York Festival of Song recitals at which we found great artistry in Ms. Lindsey; so it was no great surprise that the intrepid Mr. Blier was in attendance at The Weill Recital Hall to witness Ms. Lindsey's performance. In the past dozen years the artist has achieved fame and acquired a large number of fans who came and welcomed her with much applause , listened attentively, and gave her a standing ovation at the end, demanding two encores.

This all makes us feel like a grinch since we were not enthralled. Perhaps it is the case that we do not appreciate cabaret as much as art song. Perhaps it was the extremely loose-limbed body language or the facial expressions bordering on grimacing. Perhaps it was our discomfort at the frequent sartorial adjustments to the otherwise becoming black sequined gown. Perhaps it was the realization that the chosen composers, who fled Nazi Germany, lost the sharp edge that made their works so arresting. There was something about their musical styles, once they settled in the United States, that felt flabby to us.

To our ears, Kurt Weill's songs for Lost in the Stars can't hold the proverbial candle to the several works composed with Bertold Brecht like "Denn wie man sich bettet, so liegt man" from Rise and Fall of the City of Mahagonny or the intense "Pirate Jenny" from The Threepenny Opera.

The part of the program we did enjoy was a pair of songs by Alma Mahler -- "Die still Stadt" and "Hymne", songs we would love to hear again. Of course Gustav's wife composed at the turn of the 20th century, a period we admire. We wish the  composer had defied her controlling husband and written more songs. Perhaps the inclusion on the program of songs by Alexander Zemlinsky ("Selige Stunde" and the peaceful "Und hat der Tag all seine Qual") made its way onto the program because he and Mrs. Mahler were "involved". We wish his songs and hers had been programmed sequentially.

The pianist for the event was Baptiste Trotignon, an excellent jazz pianist and quite a treat for those member of the audience who love jazz and improvisations. We, unfortunately, do not. There were many instances when what we heard coming from the piano was at war with the text. Furthermore, the pair of artists gave an interpretation of Kurt Weill's "Je ne t'aime pas" that didn't reflect our psychological understanding of the jilted woman who is trying to hide her sorrow. The accompaniment was dense and forte whilst the singing lacked subtlety and irony. Ms. Lindsey just sounded angry--even furious.

We did enjoy the pianist's solo improvisation on Kurt Weill's tunes and thought of him as a better soloist than accompanist.  To end on a more favorable note, halfway through the program we heard a very nice interpretation of Weill's "Berlin Im Licht".

We cannot fault artists for wanting to do something different by stretching their styles or for creating an original theme for a program. Obviously there are fans who love everything an artist does. Just not us.

© meche kroop

NED AT NINETY

Ned Rorem, Michael Barrett, Andrew Garland, Steven Blier, Kate Lindsey

There is music that we adored on first hearing and there is music that we had to get to know in order to appreciate.  Tchaikovsky is in the first category; Mahler is in the second.  Likewise with songs. Schubert thrilled us on first hearing, rooted as we are in the 19th c. Twentieth century songs in English have never been our favorites but, under the guidance of Steven Blier and the New York Festival of Song, we have been broadening our horizons over the past year.  Last night's tribute to Ned Rorem on his 90th birthday offered many delights; we were surprised to have enjoyed the evening so thoroughly.  Most of the songs were composed by Mr. Rorem, but some were by his teachers and colleagues.

Mr. Blier's enthusiastic narration and fascinating anecdotes added immeasurably to our experience but the songs themselves offered interesting harmonies and singable melodies.  The superb singers, mezzo-soprano Kate Lindsey and baritone Andrew Garland, made wonderful sense of the lyrics and their enthusiasm was infectious. Mr. Blier's and Michael Barrett's accompaniments contributed equally.  Mr. Blier and Mr. Rorem have a long and profound association and both are Francophiles; Mr. Rorem was inspired by Ravel and Poulenc among others.  In every song, the language is clear and the text well served by the vocal line.

We are particularly fond of duets and the opening one "From whence cometh song?", a setting of a text by Theodore Roethke was a fine introduction and a moving one.   For us, the most interesting duet was a unique setting of Robert Browning's "Life in a Love" with its overlapping voices.  Or was it the final song of the evening "A birthday" with text by Christina Georgina Rossetti?

Mr. Garland was especially memorable in "The Lordly Hudson" (text by Paul Goodman) and concluded the song with a beautifully controlled crescendo.  In Barber's "I hear an army", with text by James Joyce, he let loose his powerful baritone.  But he was ever so gentle in Marc Blitzstein's "Emily", which may have been the most moving song of the evening.

Ms. Lindsey was adorable in Virgil Thomson's "Sigh no more, ladies" from Five Shakespeare Songs, singing through slowly and meaningfully the first time and friskily the second.  She was equally charming in Emily Dickinson's "Dear March, come in!" from Twelve Poems of Emily Dickinson, set by Aaron Copland.  In "Rain in Spring", setting of a text by Paul Goodman, the final line sung by Ms. Lindsey "Falling without haste or strain" was a perfect description of her singing.  But my favorite song in that set was a setting of Gertrude Stein's "I am Rose" which she imbued with scintillating personality.

Mr. Blier and Mr. Barrett shared accompanying duties.  We especially enjoyed the syncopated jazzy piano in Mr. Rorem's "Alleluia", played by Mr. Barrett and the achingly simple pianism of Mr. Blier in Rorem's "Little Elegy".  It needs scarcely be mentioned that the youthful Mr. Rorem (still going strong) composes all kinds of music, not just song--but it does need to be mentioned that he has written several books which Mr. Blier, in his own inimitable manner, assures us are quite racy.  Mr. Rorem once admitted to being a "pretty thing" in his youth.  He still is.

We left with an enhanced appreciation of the songs of Mr. Rorem and his associates, thanks to Mr. Blier's astute curating.  We doubt, however, that we can persuade him to love Schubert's lieder as much as we do, since he confessed that they do not thrill him.  Oh well.

© meche kroop