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Gracias a la vida – Anne-Lise Polchlopek

It seems not a month goes by without a new recital record from a young artist making an impression. Recently I’ve welcomed recital records from Benjamin Appl, Fatma Said, Harriet Burns, Rachel Fenton and Eva Zalenga , and July saw a recommendation for Julieth Lozano-Rolong’s new disc from Dominy Clements. To this list can now be added the name of French mezzo-soprano, Anne-Lise Polchlopek, a winner of several song competitions, and now an associate artist of the Queen Elizabeth Music Chapel, where this recording was made.

This recital may at first glance appear to be a hotchpotch of different styles, embracing classical Lied, folk and popular music, but Polchlopek somehow integrates these different musical styles into a satisfying whole, and the recital benefits from being listened to at one sitting. It doesn’t get off to the best of starts with her somewhat over-articulated and over-acted singing of Bernstein’s Old Lady Tango (I am easily assimilated) from Candide, but she then sings a beautiful version of Strauss’s Wiegenlied, with a lovely legato line, her mellifluous mezzo wrapping the child in its warm embrace.

From Germany we travel to Spain and France, where we stay for the remainder of the recital. Toldrá is followed by Chaminade, then we switch to guitar accompaniment for Hubert Giraud’s La tendresse, staying with the guitar for an extremely effective performance of Falla’s Nana, from his Siete canciones populares españolas.

We go back to the piano for Fauré’s Les berceaux, in which she builds nicely to the climax, and then we have Messiaen’s early Trois melodies, where she captures to perfection the ecstasy of the writing, especially in the final song, la fiancée perdue.

 These are followed by three songs in a lighter vein by Chaminade, Pauline Viardot and Gerónimo Giménez, all wonderfully characterised. Perhaps incongruously (but somehow it works) Voi che sapete from Mozart’s Le nozze di Figaro acts as a bridge to Michel Polnareff’s Mes regrets, a beautiful song about lost love, which is followed by Fauré’s Toujours.

This in turn is followed by Gérard Jouannest’s La chanson des vieux aimants, with lyrics by Jacques Brel, a song I had previously only known in a version by Judy Collins. Suffice it to say that Polchlopek’s intensely moving performance put any thoughts of Collins out of my mind completely.

Throughout the piano accompaniments of Federico Tibone contribute wonderfully to the success of the disc, as do the guitar accompaniments of Pierre Laniau, who accompanies her on Tamás Méndez’s charming Cucurrucucu paloma, which I seem to remember was a favourite of Nana Mouskouri. He also accompanies her on the Habanera from Bizet’s Carmen and Satie’s La diva de l’empire, though I did feel the Bizet was slightly out of place here, coming, as it did, after the piano accompanied Poulenc Les métamorphoses and before the Satie.

We return to piano accompaniment for Montsalvatge’s Canto negro, which she sings with charm and spirit, relishing the yambambós, as Victoria De Los Angeles did before her.

All three participants come together for the final song, Violetta Parra’s Gracias a la vida, a fitting end to a journey on which Anne-Lise Polchlopek has proved to be a most musical guide. Throughout she clearly and meaningfully enunciates the text, and it is clear she has a rare gift for communication that makes her an ideal recitalist.

Unfortunately, though the notes accompanying the disc are in English, the online texts are only in the original language, French, Spanish, German, or in the case of the Bernstein, English, and translations would have helped for a total appreciation of Polchlopek’s art. However, I thoroughly enjoyed this disc, and I look forward to hearing more of Anne-Lise Polchlopek.

Anne-Lise Polchlopek (mezzo-soprano) Gracias a la vida (Fuga Libera)
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Opus Two celebrates Stephen Sondheim

I’ve loved the music of Stephen Sondheim ever since I was introduced to the LP of the Broadway recording of A Little Night Music by an old friend, my musical mentor, back when I was in my early twenties. Though Sondheim is known for his lyrics, it was the swirlingly Romantic score that I first responded to, and it is fitting that the first piece  on this disc is the Suite from that musical, in an arrangement, like the other pieces on this disc, by Eric Stern, who worked closely with Sondheim on the 1984 revival of Pacific Overtures. Since then, Stern has conducted the second year of Sunday in the Park with George, and also worked on Into the Woods, several productions of Follies, a revival of Merrily We Roll Along at the Kennedy Centre, and many more concerts and birthday celebrations around the world. His last conversation with Sondheim was about the Little Night Music suite, which Sondheim enthusiastically endorsed, though unfortunately the rest were written after his passing.

Opus Two are violin and piano duo, William Terwilliger on the violin and Andrew Cooperstock on the piano. They are joined by soprano Elena Shaddow for I remember, from the TV musical Evening Primrose, and by baritone Andrew Garland for Finishing the Hat, from Sunday in the Park with George, though, truth to tell, neither performance eclipsed memories of other performances of these songs, and I wondered at their inclusion. On the other hand, the addition of Beth Vandeborgh’s cello to the arrangement of Every Day a Little Death from A Little Night Music adds a certain expressive depth to the song. I found it one of the most successful pieces on the disc.

For those who know and love Sondheim’s scores, I would suggest that this disc is self-recommending. The arrangements are brilliantly done, though there is just the whiff of Palm Court about them. I could imagine them being played at the Waldorf Hotel, whilst enjoying tea, not that there is anything wrong with that, of course, and I found the disc hugely enjoyable. In some cases, I know the lyrics so well I could sing along in my mind’s ear, which no doubt added to my enjoyment of them.

It has often been said that Sondheim’s lyrics take precedence over the music, but here, I think, we get the chance to concentrate on Sondheim the composer, and we find how lyrical, in the musical sense, his music is. The only piece I didn’t know was the main title from Alain Resnais’s 1974 film, Stavisky, a short evocative piece, but it too has a tune which lingers in the memory for some time afterwards.

Terwilliger shines in Sorry/Grateful from Company, which is here arranged for solo violin, whilst Cooperstock is given the jazzy Now You Know from Merrily We Roll Along as a piano solo. Then they come together again for the final work, the Fleet Street Suite, which combines themes from Sweeney Todd and closes the recital with the beautifully poetic Johanna, which, in the show, is a moment of calm and pure beauty amidst the turbulence of the rest.

Contents:

Suite from A little Night Music

Not while I’m around (from Sweeney Todd)

Broadway Baby (from Follies)

I remember (from Evening Primrose)

Main Title from Stavisky

Every Day a Little Death (from A little Night Music)

Sorry/Grateful (from Company)

Finishing the Hat (from Sunday in the Park with George)

Now You Know (from Merrily We Roll Along)

Fleet Street Suite (from Sweeney Todd)

Sondheim: Chamber Music Arrangements (Bridge)
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Eva Zalenga – Varia bel

Last month I was welcoming a disc of Lieder with various accompaniments by Fatma Said and here we have another for various forces, which, coincidentally, also includes Schubert’s Der Hirt auf dem Felsen.

In April 2024, I welcomed Zalenga’s debut recital on the Hänssler label, and this new recital on the Genuin label is, if anything, even more successful. Variety is the key note of the disc, in the variety of music (from the 18th to the 21st centuries), the variety of styles from the intimate to the more extrovert, and the variety of instruments accompanying the voice, that nonetheless add up to a convincing whole.

We start with a world premiere recording of Ignaz Lachner’s An die Entfernte (In die Ferne) for soprano, violoncello and piano, in which Zalenga charmingly intertwines with the cello of Till Schuler. We stay with the combination of cello and piano for Schubert’s Auf dem Strom. There is just the suspicion of strain in the upper reaches of the song here, a slight impurity that obtrudes on the silvery beauty of the sound, but it is fleeting, and soon evaporates during the next song, Meyerbeer’s haunting Des Schäfers Lied, in which the cello is swapped for Adam Ambarzumjan’s clarinet.

We stick with this combination for Schubert’s more famous Der Hirt auf dem Felsen, which, whilst not plumbing the deeper meanings of the text, as Said and Meyer do in their version, is nonetheless a delightful and charming performance.

In their earlier recital, Zalenga and Tchakarova championed women composers and it is good to see that they do so here too, first with a lovely song by Pauline Viardot-Garcia, in which we return to the combination of soprano, cello and piano, and then, jumping ahead around 100 years to Rebecca Clarke’s arrangement for soprano and violin of Three Irish Folk Songs. The tricky violin part is played by Victoria Wong. These are sung in English, and we stick with English for Arthur Bliss’s Two Nursery Rhymes, the first for soprano, clarinet and piano and the second for soprano and clarinet. Zalenga sings in perfectly accented English, and seems equally at home in French, which is the language of the next group of songs, four miniatures for soprano and violin by Darius Milhaud, Quatre Poèmes de Catulle.   

Finally all the forces come together for the last item, a new arrangement of contemporary composer Isabelle Aboulker’s Je t’aime, which Zalenga brings off with incredible wit, panache and style to bring this excellent recital to a riotous conclusion.

In all, Zalenga proves herself to be a most musical and intelligent singer and I look forward to seeing where her next enterprise will take us. Highly recommended.

Eva Zalenga (soprano): Song Recital (Genuin)
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Lines of Life – Schubert and Kurtág

 

“I believe that Benjamin is currently the most authentic interpreter of my Hölderin Gesänge.” So writes György Kurtág in the notes accompanying this disc and, as he is also credited as recording producer, I think we can lay claim to their authenticity. Kurtág attended all the sessions, which took place in Budapest, apparently producing over 1,300 recording takes and countless repetitions.

The majority of the Kurtág songs on this disc are a capella. Their range, both vocal and emotional, is wide and they are brilliantly performed by Appl, whose range of expression and ability to meld the wide-ranging melismas in the vocal writing are superb. Indeed the very first song, Circumdederunt, which is in Latin and reminiscent of plainchant, homes in directly on the voice, a peculiarly expressive instrument, capable of harshness when required, as in the words et in trubulatione mea, returning to a beautiful, consoling richness for the remainder of the song. All but one of the Hölderin Gesänge are also unaccompanied and the one that isn’t, unusually has a sort of obligato accompaniment for trombone and tuba. The four Ulrike Schuster songs have an atonal piano accompaniment, which is played here by Pierre-Lauent Aimard.

As an interpreter of contemporary song, then, Appl proves himself to have few equals, but he is also a fine interpreter of Schubert and Brahms, as witness the beautiful versions of the Schubert and Brahms songs included on the disc. As befits a student of Fischer-Dieskau, expression is paramount, but never at the expense of a fine legato line and the beauty of the voce is well caught.

James Baillieu is the fine accompanist for most of the Schubert songs, but in the final two songs, Schubert’s Der Jüngling an der Quelle and Brahms’s Sonntag, Appl is touchingly accompanied by György Kurtág himself, though, it must be admitted, with rather too much pedal.

I found this disc an absorbing and challenging experience and would recommend it to anyone with an adventurous appetite.

The disc finishes with a fascinating eighteen-minute interview in German between Appl and Kurtág, for which an English translation is provided in the accompanying booklet.

.

Benjamin Appl (baritone): Lines of Life (Alpha Classics)
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Fatma Said – Lieder

Fatma Said follows up her award winning debut recital, El Nour, and her equally successful second album, Kaleidoscope, with a more conventional album of German Lieder, except that with this gifted artist, it isn’t quite that simple. For a start, she has collaborated with an array of different musicians, bringing in clarinettist Sabine Meyer for Schubert’s Der Hirt auf dem Felsen, the men’s choir, Walhalla zum Seidlwirt, for his Ständchen, harpist Anneleen Lenaerts for four of the Brahms songs, the Quator Arod for Brahms’s Ophelia-Lieder, baritone Huw Montague Rendall for some duets and three different pianists in Malcolm Martineau, Yonathan Cohen and Joseph Middleton. In the notes accompanying the disc, Said says that all of these artists were friends or became friends during the sessions, and, in a positive way it would seem so, as there is a real sense of joy and discovery in the music making.

In a disc of so many delights, it is difficult to highlight specific performances, and for once I found myself not making comparisons with other singers, so compelling is the artistry on display here. Said has a surpassingly beautiful voice, but she uses it for expressive ends and is not afraid to make the occasional ugly sound, as in the vividly characterised Hexenlied by Mendlessohn, and in Schubert’s Der Zwerg. The nocturne Ständchen is delivered as a dramatic dialogue between Said and the men’s chorus, with a touch of breathless excitement, which perfectly captures the meaning of the words, and the words are evidently very important to Said. Her diction is excellent, and indeed, in the notes accompanying the disc, Said states that she wanted there to be a strong emphasis on the text. This she has achieved, whilst maintaining a lovely legato line.

The harp accompaniment brings a touch of delicacy to the Brahms songs and his Ophelia- Lieder are performed in Aribert Reimann’s arrangement for string quartet, which somehow contrives to make the songs sound more archaic. Sabine Meyer plays with great beauty of tone in Der Hirt auf dem Felsen, which here receives a performance of ineffable longing, which is totally dispelled in the joyful final measures.

I can’t close without mentioning the terrific contributions of her three pianists, Malcolm Martineau, Yonatan Cohen and Joseph Middleton, nor Huw Monatgue Rendall’s wonderful contribution to the duets, his voice blending beautifully with Said’s, particularly in the final song on the disc, Schumann’s In der Nacht, where his mellifluous tones blend beautifully with Said’s – a fitting end to a disc that had me spellbound throughout.

Highly recommended and, I know it’s early days yet, but likely to be one of my discs of the year.

Fatma Said (soprano) Lieder (Warner Classics)
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Glen Cunningham’s Heart is in the Highlands

An interesting programme of Scottish inspired songs, but Cunningham’s tenor is a little too much on the dry side for my liking.

My Heart’s in the Highlands

Glen Cunningham (tenor)  Anna Tilbrook (piano)

The young tenor, Glen Cunningham, and his pianist, Anna Tilbrook, celebrate their Scottish heritage in a programme of music connected to Scotland, not only in the folk orientated songs of Robbie Burns, but also in settings of Burns by Schumann, and Robert Louis Stevenson by Liza Lehmann and Reynaldo Hahn. To these are added a completely new song cycle, also to texts by Robert Louis Stevenson, by the Scottish composer, Stuart MacRae.

It makes for an interesting programme, with the folk song settings framing the songs by Schumann, Lehmann, MacRae and Hahn. Thus, we start with a setting of Burns’s Ca’ the yowes to the knows in an arrangement by Claire Liddell, which segues into the eight songs from Schumann’s Myrthen, which set texts by Burns in German translation. They are possibly less well known than other songs from Myrthen, like Widmung or Der Nussbaum, and I doubt anyone would guess the Scottish provenance of these Schumann songs. Nor, I wager, would anyone guess that the  song Dem Roten Röslein Gleicht Mein Lieb from Schumann’s Opus 27 Lieder und Gesänge is actually a setting in German of the famous My love is like a red, red rose, which follows it.

Liza Lehmann is less well represented in the catalogue than Schumann, though a selection of the songs from The Daisy-Chain have been recorded by mixed voices and are available on the Naxos label. Cunningham selects four of the five songs to texts by Robert Louis Stevenson. These are children’s songs to be performed by skilled adults, and the vocal writing is often taxing, Stars, for instance, requiring the sort of lyrical outpouring that Cunningham’s rather dry tenor is not quite capable of. Toby Spence manages it slightly better on the above Naxos recording, but it really needs a fuller voice than either of these two tenors can provide.

Two of the texts are also set by Reynaldo Hahn in his Five Little Songs, written while Hahn was a private in the French army during World War I, where he saw action on the front line. These too are settings of Robert Louis Stevenson, ‘children’s songs’, though it is unlikely that any child could sing or play them. They are quite charming, though, yet again, there is nothing particularly Scottish about them.

Not surprisingly, I suppose, the most Scottish sounding of the songs are those by Stuart MacRae, particularly For age an’ youth, which sets a Scots style vocal line against a sort of imitation bagpipe in the piano accompaniment. Cunningham is at his best in these songs, but even here I wanted more of tonal beauty. He compensates with the intelligence of his delivery, but throughout I’m afraid I found his vibrato intrusive and the sound he makes unpleasantly hard and uningratiating.

I should just mention that Anna Tilbrook is a most sensitive accompanist and adapts brilliantly to the style of each composer.

The recital ends with the title song, My heart’s in the Highlands, in an arrangement by Michael Barnett (and supplemented by Tilbrook) that was transcribed from a 1962 Kenneth McKellar recording. I just wish that Cunningham sang it with some of McKellar’s beauty of tone.

My heart’s in the Highlands (Delphian)
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Saimir Pirgu sings operatic arias

Ten years ago I saw Saimir Pirgu as the Duke in the Royal Opera House’s David McVicar production of Rigoletto. Though he looked splendid and dashing, he was utterly charmless and I found his singing stiff and monochromatic. Since then, he seems to have ventured into more dramatic repertoire, and this recital of mostly verismo arias comes as a follow-up to a 2015 album of more lyrical fare, which I haven’t heard.

The present recital was very well received by my colleague, Göran Forsling in October of last year (review) but I’m afraid I can’t join in with his praise. For a start, Pirgu’s basic production is terribly ingolata, so much so that his singing was giving me a sore throat. There is no freedom to the sound and, when I compare him to the greats of the past, from Caruso to Björling to Pavarotti, all I hear is his struggle to get the sound out. There is no ring at the top and the middle voice is forced, resulting in a distressing vibrato. Indeed, he sounds a good deal older than his forty-two years.

Added to that, he doesn’t really do anything with the music and here his conductor, Antonio Fogliani, must take some of the blame, for his conducting is dull and prosaic. Most of the arias on the disc are well known but, with so many other versions out there, this just isn’t competitive.

I tried listening to the recital several times, thinking that maybe it had something to do with my mood, but, no, each time my reactions were the same. I just couldn’t get past Pirgu’s basic vocal production and I found it difficult to relax and enjoy the music. I hate to be so negative, but this is a disc for fans of Pirgu only, if indeed they exist.

Contents.

  1. Puccini: Manon Lescaut – “Indietro!… Guardate, pazzo son” 
    2. Puccini: Tosca – “E lucevan le stelle”
    3. Leoncavallo: Chatterton – “Non saria meglio… Tu sola a me” 
    4. Giordano: Andrea Chénier – “Colpito qui m’avete… Un dì all’azzurro spazio” 
    5. Puccini: Le villi – “Ecco la casa… Torna ai felici dì”
    6. Puccini: Manon Lescaut – “Donna non vidi mai” 
    7. Cilea: Adriana Lecouvreur – “L’anima ho stanca”
    8. Wagner: Lohengrin – “In fernem Land”
    9. Berlioz: La Damnation de Faust – “Nature immense”
    10. Tchaikovsky: Eugene Onegin – “Introduction”
    11. Tchaikovsky: Eugene Onegin – “Kuda, kuda, kuda vi udalilis”
    12. Puccini: Il tabarro –  “Hai ben ragione” 
    13. Bizet: Carmen – “La fleur que tu m’avais jetée”
    14. Puccini: Turandot – “Non piangere, Liù”
    15. Jakova: Skenderbeu – “Kjo zemra ime”
    16. Puccini: Tosca – “Recondita armonia” (with Vito Maria Brunetti (bass))
    17. Giordano: Andrea Chénier – “Come un bel dì di maggio” 
    18. Puccini: Madama Butterfly – “Addio, fiorito asil” 
    19. Giordano: Fedora – “Amor ti vieta”
    20. Sorozábal: La taberna del puerto – “No puede ser”
    21. Puccini: Turandot – “Nessun dorma!”

 

Saimir Pirgu (tenor): Saimir (Opus Arte)

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Go Lovely Rose – The songs of Roger Quilter

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James Gilchrist (tenor) Anna Tilbrook (piano)

The songs of Roger Quilter are not performed as often these days as they once were, which is a shame, because they are beautifully crafted and, though perhaps they don’t probe as deeply into the texts as those of Finzi, Delius and Warlock, they are very rewarding for performers and listeners alike. Quilter had a wonderful gift for melody, but it was always melody put at the service of the poetry and the text is sung more or less as if it were spoken. Having performed many of the songs myself in my youth, I can attest to the fact that they are a gift to the performer.

Rather than give us whole opus numbers, Gilchrist and Tilbrook have chosen songs from his complete oeuvre, with the songs grouped into themes. Thus, we have six Shakespeare songs, drawn from the Op. 6, Op. 23 and Op. 32 sets of Shakespeare settings, five songs associated with flowers (A Floral Tribute), four Folk Song settings (all taken from The Arnold Book of Old Songs), four songs associated with the graveside, and four Songs of Love. The only songs performed as a set are the early German songs, written when Quilter was studying in Frankfurt. These are charming, but slight and give little indication of Quilter’s later, more mature style.

Initially alienated by the rather gruff sound of Gilchrist’s voice in the opening robust Blow, blow, thou winter wind (we are at once aware that this is not the voice of a young man, and indeed Gilchrist was approaching sixty at the time of the recording), I was drawn in by his elegiac delivery of Come away, death, and thereafter, I was less aware of any failing resources. Indeed, in the more gently reflective songs, with which the disc proliferates, Gilchrist is often spellbindingly beautiful, spinning out some lovely pianissimi in such songs as Fear no more the heat of the sun, the famous Now sleeps the crimson petal and the song which gives the collection its name, Go lovely rose. He is admirably supported by Anna Tilbrook, who is an excellent accompanist.

I would not be doing my job as a reviewer if I didn’t point out that there is another similar collection of songs available on the Hyperion label. This was recorded in 1996 by the then much younger John Mark Ainsley with Malcolm Martineau at the piano. Some may prefer Ainsley’s much more forthright manner and fresher timbre, as indeed I occasionally do, especially in songs like Blow, blow, thou winter wind and the ebullient Love’s philosophy, but Gilchrist’s more reflective style has its own rewards, and this is a welcome addition to the Quilter discography

Contents
Shakespeare Songs
Blow, blow, though winter wind, from Three Shakespeare Songs (First Set) Op 6, No 3 (1905)
Come away, death, Op 6 No 1 from Three Shakespeare Songs (First Set) (1905, rev 1906)

Fear no more the heat o’ the sun. from Five Shakespeare Songs (Second Set) Op.23 No 1
Orpheus with his lute. from Two Shakespeare Songs (Fourth Set) Op.32 No 1(1919-20)
O mistress mine, from Three Shakespeare Songs (First Set) Op 6 No 2 (1905, rev 1906)

Under the greenwood tree, from Five Shakespeare Songs (Second Set) (1919)
A Floral Tribute
The Fuchsia Tree, Op.25 No.2 (1923)
Go, Lovely Rose, from Five English Love Lyrics Op.24 No.3 (1922)
A last year’s rose, Op 14 No.3 (1909-10)
Now sleeps the Crimson Petal, Op 3 No 2 91897)
To Daisies from To Julia, Op.8 No 3 (1905)
Folksongs
From The Arnold Book of Old Songs
Barbara Allen, No 13 (c 1921)
Drink to me only with thine eyes, No 1 (c 1921)
My Lady’s Garden, No 10 (c 1942)
The Ash Grove, No 16 (c 1942)
At the Graveside
Autumn Evening Op.14 No.1 (1909-10)
Dream Valley, from Three Songs of William Blake, Op.20 No.1 (1917)
Drooping Wings (1943)
Music, when soft voices die, from Six Songs, Op 25 No.5 (1926)
German Songs
Four Songs of Mirza Schaffy, Op 2 (bef. 1903, rev. 1911)
Songs of Love
Love’s Philosophy, from Three Songs, Op 3 No 1 (1905)
Julia’s Hair from To Julia Op 8, No 5 (1905)
The Maiden Blush from To Julia Op 8, No 2 (1905)
It was a lover and his lass, from Five Shakespeare Songs (Second Set), Op

Quilter: Go, Lovely Rose (Chandos)

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Welcome Joy – The Corvus Consort

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The subtitle of this disc is A Celebration of Women’s Voices and a celebration it undoubtedly is, not just of the women’s voices who sing on the record, but of the voices of the women composers who make up the lion’s share of the music. Room is found for Gustav Holst, who was a champion of women’s voices and taught at several girls’ schools, most famously at St Paul’s Girls School, where he taught for almost thirty years.

Its centrepiece, and the longest work on the disc, is Elizabeth Poston’s An English Day-Book, which here receives its première recording of this edition. If it is reminiscent of Britten’s A Ceremony of Carols, then that is because it was conceived to complement it by providing a work suitable for use throughout the year. The Day-Book was unpublished at he time of Poston’s death in 1987, but has since been published by the Arts and Education charity, Multitude of Voyces, which specialises in publishing and promoting works by communities historically or currently underrepresented or marginalised. The charity also published the works here by Hilary Campbell, Olivia Sparkhall, Judith Weir and Gemma McGregor. I was particularly taken by Sparkhall’s Lux Aeterna, which is for two choruses, solo soprano and harp and McGregor’s Love was his meaning with its lovely falling harp introduction.

“Welcome Joy”, sing the Corvus Consort at the beginning of this recital and indeed what a joy it is. Imogen Holst’s commission for the 1951 Aldeburgh Festival is a setting of six poems by John Keats, described by Britten as ‘six little treasures’ when he first received them, and, in this joyful performance, it is easy to see why.

This piece, like most of the music on this CD was completely new to me, but I did know Gustav Holst’s Choral Hymns from the Rig Veda (Third Group) from Imogen Holst’s 1968 recording with the Purcell Singers and Ossian Ellis. I am bound to say that I found that recording a mite more atmospheric, especially in the opening Hymn to the Dawn, which has a mystery and magic that is not quite captured in the clearer, more analytical Chandos digital recording.

Nevertheless, I enjoyed this disc of choral music for women’s voices. The work of the Corvus Consort under their conductor, Freddie Crowley can hardly be faulted, with a superb contribution from harpist, Louise Thomson.

Full texts are provided, and the exemplary notes are extensive. A thoroughly enjoyable disc.

Contents

Imogen Holst (1907 – 1984)  Welcome Joy and Welcome Sorrow (1950)

Gustav Holst (1874 – 1934) Two Eastern Pictures (1911)

Choral Hymns from the Rig Veda (Third Group) (1910)

Dirge and Hymneal (1915)

Judith Weir (b.1954) We sekyn here rest (2019)

Hilary Campbell (b. 1983) Our Endless Day (2017)

Elizabeth Poston (1905 – 1987) An English Day-Book  (1966 – 67)

Olivia M. Sparkhall (b. 1976) Lux Aeterna (2018)

Gemma McGregor (b. 1965) Love was his meaning (2018)

Shruti Rajasekar (b. 1996) Ushãs – Goddess of Dawn (2024)

Priestess (2024)

 

Corvus Consort: Welcome Joy (Chandos)
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Sabine Devieilhe sings Mozart and Strauss Lieder

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I listened to this recital quite a few times before setting down my thoughts, and, on each occasion, I reacted differently to it. I was looking forward to hearing it having hugely enjoyed Sabine Devieilhe in the theatre, as a wonderfully tomboyish Marie in Donizetti’s La fille du Régiment, but the recording made me aware of a problem with Devieilh’s vocal production, which I hadn’t noticed in the theatre, namely her tendency to use what I can only describe as a squeeze-box method of production which impedes a natural legato. It is particularly noticeable in songs like Strauss’s Die Nacht and Morgen, but once noticed, I found it hard to ignore. I listened to the recital several times and my impressions changed from one listening to the next. I am sure that there are those who will not be bothered by it at all, but, once noticed, it began to grate.

Which is a pity, because this is a well put together programme and for the most part well executed by Devieilh and her brilliant accompanist, Mathieu Pordoy.

For once we get no catchy title for this disc of Mozart and Strauss Lieder, and Devieilhe tells us in the notes that their two instruments are “pared back and at the service of illuminating the lieder of Mozart and Strauss.” So far so good, and it was a nice idea to intersperse the songs with each other rather than giving us a group of Mozart songs, followed by a group of Strauss. For the most part, the juxtapositions work well, but I did wonder why, at the beginning of the recital, Strauss’s Die Nacht was placed rather uncomfortably between Mozart’s Komm, Zither, komm and his Das Kinderspiel, on which Devieilhe’s son charmingly contributes a few lines in his boy soprano. If the Strauss exposes Devieilhe’s weakness, in the Mozart songs one notes the bright, forwardly placed tone and her communicative way with the text.

The next Strauss group plays to her strengths and weaknesses with both Nichts and Ständchen nicely done, but the following three songs require the kind of seamless legato she appears not to be capable of and where the squeeze is most noticeable.

We return to Mozart with a heartfelt performance of An die Einsamkeit. The voice is lovely, but, yet again, it needs a better legato, which we hear in performances by Barbara Hendricks and Elly Ameling. Still, she has bags of charm in Mozart’s Oiseaux, si tous les ans and bags of personality for Strauss’s Schlagendes Herzen, as well as being well up to the Zerbinetta-like demands of Strauss’s Amor, though her tone becomes a little pinched at the very top. I note that I am noticing less and less the peculiarities of her vocal production and concentrating more on the music. Maybe I am just getting used to it, or maybe it is becoming less pronounced.

Whatever the reason, I was able to relax and enjoy the music making more in the second part of the recital, whilst noting that Allerseelen really needs a richer tone than Devieilhe can muster and that there was a return to the squeeze-box in Das Velichen.

I should also commend the excellent pianist, Mathieu Pordoy, whose playing is pellucidly clear and who supports his soloist brilliantly in a true collaboration. If I have equivocal feelings about some of the singing, I am sure that others will find otherwise and will find this a thoroughly enjoyable and rewarding disc.

Mozart & R Strauss: Lieder (Erato)