LINCOLN CENTER GREAT PERFORMERS--MARK PADMORE AND PAUL LEWIS

Paul Lewis and Mark Padmore at Alice Tully Hall

There were four people onstage last night at Alice Tully Hall, as part of Lincoln Center's Great Performers series.  There was the veteran interpreter of art song Mark Padmore, there was the sensitive collaborative pianist Paul Lewis, there was the 19th c. Romantic poet Heinrich Heine, and there was the remarkable 19th c. composer of art song Robert Schumann.

How wonderful to have an entire evening devoted to the Schumann settings of Heine's poetry, so movingly interpreted by Mr. Padmore and Mr. Lewis, whose intense sensitivity to the music and to the singer contributed greatly to an evening of pure delight. We confess to being completely mesmerized.

Mr. Padmore made a few opening remarks about Schumann sending his songs to Clara as a means of communicating his feelings. Surely the young Robert did not mean to communicate the negativity toward love and toward women that we read in Heine's text. We know not what romantic injury Heine suffered to inspire such anger.

We have been reading the poetry aloud and reveling in its astute use of the German language, it's rhythm and its rhyme. Would that a contemporary American poet could so inspire a contemporary American composer!

In any event, Schumann's melodic vocal lines and luscious piano accompaniment went a long way toward softening the harsh sentiments found in Heine's poetry, poetry that inspired so many 19th c. composers.

In the performances of Mr. Padmore and Mr. Lewis, we barely noticed the superlative technical aspects and chose to dwell on the communicative aspects. Mr. Padmore has had a long and illustrious career to focus on communicating emotions to the audience. By virtue of alterations of color and dynamics, and by means of sensitive phrasing, every ounce of emotion was conveyed.

Mr. Lewis' attention to both the piano part and the vocal line made him the perfect partner for Mr. Padmore. He is the type of collaborative pianist that we most enjoy, always light of touch and leaving the final note suspended in the air. There was no mention of his collaborative work in the biography in the program but it was evident that there is a great deal more to his artistry than his solo performances and those with orchestras.

The program included two cycles Schumann composed in 1840. As Mr. Padmore pointed out, they were never meant to be performed in a concert hall, but rather to be played and sung at home. We have observed the incredible intimacy they elicit when performed by students in recital at small venues. To our surprise, Mr. Padmore evoked the same feeling in the vast reaches of Alice Tully Hall.

Liederkreis, Op.24 comprises nine songs about love and loss and was less familiar to us than the cycle that closed the program, Dichterliebe which we have heard countless times.

In "Ich wandelte unter den Bäumen" we loved the tender coloration and the way the quotation of the bird song was differentially colored. In terms of piano and voice working together, we favored "Lieb Liebchen" which not only enjoys a memorable melody but also a piano part that recreates the hammering of the heart. 

The passionate "Warte, warte, wilder Schiffman" is remarkable for its scale passages in the piano and the touch of humor at the end. As a matter of fact, in almost every song Schumann employed a graceful postlude to somewhat undercut Heine's bitterness. He seems to want us to feel consoled.

The familiar Dichterliebe is another story altogether; we have always thought of it as a spurned young man reflecting on the sanguine origin of his romance and the final despair when his beloved marries someone else. In the resolution of the final song, he buries all his sad songs in a coffin and sinks it in the Rhein, a fitting way to find what today is called "closure".

One could not keep from being charmed by the melodious introductory lied, "Im wunderschönen Monat Mai", or puzzled when the song just trails off without the lovely piano postlude referred to earlier. It segues immediately into the tearful "Aus meinen Tränen sprießen", followed by the exuberant "Die Rose, die Lilie, die Taube".

Love is like that, especially in the young. Observe any teenager with his cyclothymia!  She loves me, yay!  She loves me not, woe is me! In "Im Rhein, im heiligen Strome", the poet sees his beloved everywhere, even in a portrait in the cathedral in Cologne!

We were waiting to hear what Mr. Padmore would do with "Ich grolle nicht". He held back on the bitterness until the end, a valid and interesting interpretation. 

We heard such rapid figures in the piano in "Und wüsten's die Blumen" and in the bitter "Das ist ein Flöten und Geigen" that the quiet spare piano part of "Hör' ich das Liedchen klingen" came as a surprise. 

Also of interest was the contrast between the jolly piano part of "Ein Jüngling liebt ein Mädchen" and the painfully ironic text. Perhaps our favorite song was "Ich hab' im Traum geweinet" in which the voice begins a capella and the piano part comprises a punctuation of chords. We think of the evanescence of dreams and Mr. Padmore conveyed the intimacy of a confession.

In between these two major Schumann cycles we heard some of Brahms' settings of Heine's poetry. It seemed to us that Brahms, a protegé of Schumann, chose texts of less emotional import. Truth to tell, we mostly prefer Brahms' settings of folk songs and cannot say why. There was nothing wrong with the later life songs we heard last night but presenting them in between two such major cycles probably did not give us a chance to appreciate them fully.

(c) meche kroop

A GIFT FROM LINDEMANN

Nate Raskin, Zalman Kelber, Adrian Timpau, Gabriella Reyes de Ramírez

We have written extensively about the mission and accomplishments of the Lindemann Young Artist Development Program, so let's just plunge right into yesterday's exciting recital. We confess that we are most receptive to a singer's artistry when we love the work he/she has chosen. Although we have sometimes been brought to appreciate a previously unloved work by a singer who can show us its worth, still we prefer to hear works that speak (sing) to us.

Schumann's Liederkreis, Op.39 is just such a work. Repeated hearings allow us to discover new ideas and feelings we may have overlooked. It is in Italian opera and German lieder that we can best appreciate the multiple features of a singer's artistry.

From the very first phrase sung by baritone Adrian Timpau we could assess that magical undefinable appeal that connects the singer with the audience, heart to heart. Mr. Timpau must love these songs and they fit his voice like a bespoke suit. The timbre is at times soothing and at other times forceful but there is always a connection with the material.

His German provided no opportunity for criticism. Vowels were round and resonant whilst consonants were crisp. We could understand every word without glancing at the program. Phrasing was lovely and there was ample dynamic variety.

This cycle tells no story--it is just a collection of splendid songs in different moods. Our favorite song is "Waldegespräch".  Mr . Timpau changed the warm color of his voice heard in "Intermezzo" to one of harshness as he sang the words of the rider in the forest who perhaps means no good toward the beautiful woman he comes upon, who just so happens to be the witch Lorelei. We could discern Mr. Timpau's intention to color their two voices differently but we sense that he could do just a little bit more to establish the man's character, whether he interprets him as seductive, well meaning, or evil. We would wish for a lighter color for the woman's voice.

In "Auf einer Burg" Mr. Timpau ensured that we saw through his eyes--the stone statuary and the abandoned hermitage.  Collaborative pianist Nate Raskin made sure that we heard, through his fingers, the rain, the woodland birds, and the musicians.  The performance was a revelation.

Mr. Raskin's piano was at all times in the moment. We loved the peaceful introduction to "Mondnacht" and the piano part of "Schöne Fremde". The searching melody in the piano created a spooky mood for Mr. Timpau's anxious verse in "Zwielicht". "Im Walde" was notable for the aural picture created by the artists--birds, hunting horns, and all.

We have one observation and perhaps a suggestion for Mr. Timpau. We noticed that he clasped his hands in a ministerial pose for the entire cycle. We would suggest that he loosen his grip and allow his hands to express what comes across so successfully in his voice.

Soprano Gabriella Reyes de Ramírez needs no such encouragement. Her body and face are as expressive as her large voice. The fine vibrato lent some serious overtones that we felt in the bones of our middle ear. The molecules in the room were dancing.

Her collaborative pianist Zalman Kelber was with her every step of the way. It's a fine voice for Strauss and we have no criticism of her German in the four selections we heard, but we enjoyed the Spanish more, probably because we don't get to hear it as often as we'd like.

Joaquín Turina's Poema en Forma de Canciones is a fine composition, filled with Andalusian flavor, so well captured by Ms. Ramírez and Mr. Kelber.  The Spanish rhythms of the lengthy piano introduction to "Nunca olvida" made us want to get up and dance.  

All the songs in this cycle are about love--disappointed love, ambivalent love, and love for the goddess Venus. Our favorite in this group was "Las locas por amor" when Venus turns down long term sensible love for brief mad passion! Yes indeed!

As much as we enjoyed these Spanish songs about love, we were over the moon for Ms. Ramírez' performance of "Carceleras" from the 1889 zarzuela Las Hijas del Zebedeo by Ruperto Chapí. In this song, the singer tells of her love for her sweetheart in extravagant metaphor. To say that Ms. Ramírez threw her all into this song is saying a lot; there is a lot of her and it is all wonderful!

(c) meche kroop

RUBY SHOES

Julius Drake and Ruby Hughes

Listening to the magic of last night's recital at Weill Recital Hall, we couldn't keep ourselves from thinking about Dorothy's magic shoes in The Wizard of Oz. In any case, there was a lot of magic onstage in a superlative recital given by two artists who compliment each other to an unusual degree. Mr. Drake has the soft hands that we favor, always supporting Ms. Hughes and never drowning her out, unlike some accompanists we have heard recently.

Ms. Hughes has a gracious stage presence and a lovely instrument with which to work. What impressed us immediately was her expressiveness and the attention paid to coloring each word. She opened the program with a trio of songs by Henry Purcell. They spoke to us from the 17th c. in a clearer voice than the Britten songs from the 20th c. that we heard later in the program.

"Music for a while" always beguiles us.  "O lead me to some peaceful gloom" was new to us but "Thrice happy lovers" was familiar from the masque The Faerie Queen which we so enjoyed this past summer (review archived) produced by the newborn Gramercy Opera. The British artist made every word clear and made every word count, without ignoring the overall phrasing.

Robert Schumann's Liederkreis, Op.39 was performed in its entirety and we were transported to the world of nature as seen through the eyes of the 19th c. poet Joseph von Eichendorff. When Schumann called him the perfect poet for lieder he was right on point. The text rhymes and scans beautifully and the images are evocative. (Actually, the same could be said for the texts employed by Purcell.)

With the typical style of 18th c. German Romanticism, Eichendorff used natural elements to refer to feeling tone. Forests can be lonely or threatening. Birds can symbolize freedom of expression and one's very soul. The sky can kiss the earth as a lover would.

The two artists excelled here. Ms. Hughes was riveting in "Waldesgesprach", illuminating the voices of the "man on the make" and that of the witch who retaliates with anger and severe punishment. Mr. Drake was remarkable in creating an air of quietude in the prelude to "Mondnacht" and the rustling of the treetops in "Schone Fremde".

In "Auf einer Burg", the piece closes on an unsettled and unresolved note. We are left puzzled about the weeping bride. Although we have heard this cycle countless times, we have never heard artists create this intense effect. We would have wished to linger awhile as the question hung in the air.

Our only quibble was with Ms. Hughes German. We understood it but were mildly disconcerted by some inconsistencies in the final "ch" and "g", as well as a tendency to ignore the umlaut in certain words. (We ourselves are hampered by not having diacritical marks on our keyboard but if a kind reader comes to our aid we will be grateful. Our writing program used to have a "hack" for this but no longer.)

We are happy to report that Ms. Hughes' French was merveilleux. Lately we have been hearing a great deal of Debussy's Chansons de Bilitis and never tire of it. Each singer has done well in conveying the adolescent innocence of "La flute de Pan", the eroticism of "La chevelure" and the pain of facing reality in "Le tombeau des naiades" when the lover has lost his desire. Ms. Hughes put her own spin on it--the feeling of loneliness when love dies--and we loved it. Debussy's complex piano score was no challenge for Mr. Drake.

We couldn't say we loved Ravel's Deux melodies hebraiques but we loved the way the singer sang them with gorgeous melismas. Perhaps the failure to connect with this work had much to do with Ms. Hughes being "on the book".

A Charm of Lullabies by Benjamin Britten also failed to charm us. This has more to do with our taste than the success of the composition or its performance.  "The Highland Balou" and "The Nurse's Song" have text that is doggerel, but we enjoyed them the most. Some of the others seemed as if they did not ask to be set. 

We managed to feel no affection for the world premiere of Huw Watkins' cycle Echo. We realize that it is a very big deal for a singer to have a work composed just for him/her but it is rare that we enjoy such events. The presence of the detested music stand interfered with any connection we might have felt. Just sayin'.

As encore we heard the Scottish folk song "O Waly Waly", otherwise known as "Water is Wide". It was sung with simplicity and restored our good feeling about this exceptional recital. We understand Ms. Hughes is devoted to female composers and hope she will consider adding some Clara Schumann to her next recital.

(c) meche kroop

NATHANIEL OLSON

Nathaniel Olson (photo courtesy of Carnegie Hall)

Sometimes we can tell everything there is to know about a singer from the first set of songs.  In the case of the fine young baritone Nathaniel Olson, presented at the Weill Recital Hall of Carnegie Hall, we didn't really "get" him until the encores, of which there were two.

In the first, Mr. Olson sang "Die Neugierige" from Franz Schubert's Die Schöne Müllerin and he sang it with all the youthful wonder and tenderness that is demanded by Wilhelm Müller's text.  We wanted to hear him sing the entire cycle.

The second encore was Aaron Copland's setting of an agrarian protest song from the post-Civil War period entitled "He's a dodger". This folk song was composed to discredit a presidential candidate who has been long forgotten.  But the song remains and Mr. Olson introduced it with a wonderfully original and persuasive preamble that revealed the personality that was rather hidden during the rest of the program.  The song pokes fun at the dishonesty of lawyers, politicians, salesmen, ministers and lovers--indeed, of everyone.

As far as the main body of the program, there was nothing to criticize except for the insecurity and inconsistency of the pronunciation of the final "g" and "ch" in German--a flaw commonly heard in American singers.  Sometimes the sound is omitted and sometimes it comes out as "ick". This should be simple to correct.

And yet, there was nothing in the program that thrilled us.  We wondered if Mr. Olson really loved the songs he sang.  In the program notes, he told of loving German lieder and Swedish songs since childhood.  So why then did his opening set of Schumann's Liederkreis, Op. 24  strike us as bland?  We adore Schumann and expected to be thrilled.  We were not.

Again, nothing was bad, and Mr. Olson clearly showed a lot of connection with his able accompanist and mentor Kevin Murphy.  Was it us?  Our companion was likewise unmoved by these poems of love yearned for, love anticipated, and love lost.  The lovely melody of "Schöne Wiege meiner Leiden" gave way to bitterness.  We heard it but we weren't "feeling" it.

The early 20th c. Swedish composer Ture Rangström set texts by many different poets but seemed to have a penchant for the unhappy. The songs fell on our ears with no more pleasure than the Schumann. Although Mr. Olson himself did the translation, we did not feel the connection we wanted to feel.

It is a rare recital in which we prefer the American songs but we thought Mr. Olson did justice to the lovely "Beautiful Dreamer" by Stephen Foster.  Many singers who have been associated with Marilyn Horne's program have paid tribute to her by including it in their programs and it is always lovely to hear.

Ned Rorem's "Early in the Morning", the setting of a text by Robert Silliman Hillyer, lent a note of charm and good feeling to the evening and Mr. Olson sang it beautifully with his pleasing baritone.  For once, we could visualize the circumstance and feel the pleasure of the poet.

Similarly, Aaron Copland's setting of the traditional folk song "The Little Horses" continued the pleasant feeling.  Mr. Olson and Mr. Murphy took the tempo very slowly allowing us to savor every word, and Mr. Olson exhibited a fine messa di voce.

We were unable to savor the set of Hanns Eisler songs from Ernste Gesänge which were filled with negativity, perhaps not the best choice of material.  The piano writing is jumpy and dissonant and the vocal line verges on the bombastic.

Of the Four Songs, Op. 13 by Samuel Barber, we most enjoyed the lighthearted "The Secrets of the Old" by William Butler Yeats in which three women are relishing the certain privileges of advanced years--the memories and the gossip.

We are holding open our opinion of Mr. Olson, hoping that the next time he presents a recital, he will let loose and reveal his personality. Perhaps someone told him to take it seriously but we'd like to tell him to lighten up!

© meche kroop