Category Archives: Song

Wigmore Mondays – Anna Caterina Antonacci & Donald Sulzen

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Anna Caterina Antonacci (soprano), Donald Sulzen (piano) perform Poulenc melodramas

Wigmore Hall, London, live on BBC Radio 3, 14 September 2015

Listening link (open in a new window):

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b069x6kh

on the iPlayer until 13 October

Spotify

In case you cannot hear the broadcast, here is a Spotify playlist of the music in this concert – none of which Anna Caterina Antonacci or Donald Sulzen have yet recorded. Poulenc wrote these pieces either for voice and piano or voice and orchestra, and the playlist opts for the latter as Felicity Lott is the vocalist.

https://open.spotify.com/user/arcana.fm/playlist/2Xn85iACUoZurViTV2qiFs

A voice and piano version can be heard from Denia Mazzola Gavazzeni and Eric Hull here:

https://open.spotify.com/album/0CM2nBzQxiGys75arYMAki

What’s the music?

Poulenc: La dame de Monte Carlo (1961) (7 minutes)

Poulenc: La voix humaine (1958) (36 minutes)

What about the music?

poulenc-cocteau

A brave program to start the Wigmore Hall’s new lunchtime season! Francis Poulenc (left picture above) is a composer loved for his humour and witty tunes, but these two melodramas bring out his darker side. The humour remains at a much-reduced level, as does the melodic interest which tends to be assigned more to the piano.

La dame de Monte Carlo, written to words by Jean Cocteau (right picture above), describes a suicidal woman who goes to the principality for a bout of gambling before ending her life in the Mediterranean.

La voix humaine is a much more substantial piece, written three years earlier. It was found by Poulenc and Cocteau to mimic their own lives, and Poulenc identified himself with the subject, a woman whose lover of five years is about to get married. We don’t meet the lover but the study of the woman, carried out in the form of a telephone call, builds a picture of both parties from her perspective. The woman is starting to come to terms with her lot, and has herself taken an overdose the previous night. Over the course of nearly 40 minutes Poulenc and Cocteau explore a wide range of feelings from earlier in the relationship, but above all they bring out the insecurities and terror of starting again alone without a loved one.

Their innovative script – telephones not being that widespread in 1958 – is well ahead of its time, still very relevant to the present day, and Poulenc portrays the phone ringing with uncanny accuracy through the piano. Not only that, he uses the piano to set the mood, describing not just the woman’s movements but also anticipating what is said on the other end of the line. It is an often uncomfortable but mesmerising experience.

Performance verdict

Anna Caterina Antonacci and Donald Sulzen were superb in this performance of both works, allowing a more light-hearted approach in La dame de Monte Carlo but getting right to the heart of the matter in La voix humaine, which turned into a harrowing experience as Antonacci walked restlessly up and down the stage.

Her text was especially clear, which proved to be a real asset when following the quick moving thoughts of the woman. Donald Sulzen was similarly profound in his communication of the piano part, even taking some elements from Poulenc’s orchestral arrangement to bolster his depiction of the unravelling emotions on stage. It all made for a powerful and unsettling concert – a bold season opener!

What should I listen out for?

La dame de Monte Carlo

Words are here, part of a massive Hyperion set of the complete Poulenc songs. The words can be found on Page 126

Described by the composer as ‘the lamentable story of an old, abandoned, miserable floozy who, instead of suicide, tries her luck at Monte Carlo and finally throws herself into the Mediterranean’.

2:16 – a gentle if quite sorrowful introduction from the piano, followed by the soprano with a downbeat assessment of life. Here Poulenc is describing sadness, and the different verses follow with descriptions of pride (from 4:24), lyricism (5:28), violence (6:37) and finally sarcasm (7:18). The sorrowful tale ends with the subject throwing herself into the sea – described impishly by the piano with a chord that sounds like a small ‘plop’!

La voix humaine

Words are here (no English translation available)

Antonacci played the role with a telephone either in her hand or on the table next to her, walking distractedly around the stage as the part demanded.

12:48 – the piano sets the rather fraught scene as the subject waits for the phone to ring – which it finally does (13:45). However it’s a wrong number, so the tension grows further until…

14:55 – the phone rings for a third time, and finally to her relief it is the woman’s lover. The conversation can begin. Initially she is strong but by 18:00 the façade is beginning to crack, as the husk in Antonacci’s voice shows. The speech is more faltering.

21:30 – the woman begins to panic, and then, as the two are momentarily disconnected at 22:15, her distress gets ever closer to the surface. Her lover does not sound the same – and then comes the confession, from 24:30, that ‘J’évite de me regarder’ (‘I no longer look at my face’)

26:06 – the quality of the line deteriorates, the piano becomes discordant and the operator has to intervene. The tension goes up another couple of notches!

29:37 – now the woman begins her confession, that she is close to ruin and took an overdose the previous night. She becomes agitated and starts to move around the stage, which you can hear as the perspective of the singer changes. The piano matches her mood.

32:22 – the music now reflects the sadness and emptiness of the subject, as the woman details the details of her overdose the previous night. Whenever the phone comes close to dying she becomes nearly hysterical.

35:43 – a tender moment as the woman recalls time with her lover, but the reverie is broken as the piano plays jazzy music, which she can hear over the phone.

38:39 – ‘I love to hear you speaking’, the woman confesses – and then she looks back on the five years they have spent together. Again this bout of nostalgia is rudely interrupted by an interloper on the line (39:31). Gradually the woman begins to imagine them making up – before around 42:00 declaring that ‘a telephone is cold, what we had is lost for ever’.

43:52 – the two become disconnected, and the woman feverishly wishes for her subject to call back. Her very life seems to depend on it.

44:51 – now the woman becomes gradually more resigned to the lovers’ fate, and the drama ends with a final declaration of love at 48:40. Here the waltz theme Poulenc has worked into the piano part returns in a poignant gesture, before a final piano chord.

Further listening

Normally Arcana would recommend a piece or two by the same composer, but in this case a strong recommendation is put forward for a live recording of Antonacci and Sulzen at the Wigmore Hall a few years back, performing a recital including French and Italian songs by Hahn, Tosti, Cilea and Respighi:

https://open.spotify.com/album/4MTzyat9ZtmmgHozyaUFwu

Ailish Tynan and James Baillieu – French Song at the Wigmore Hall

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French Song at the Wigmore Hall

ailish-tynan

Ailish Tynan (soprano), James Baillieu (piano) – Wigmore Hall, London, live on BBC Radio 3, 22 June 2015

Listening link (opens in a new window):

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b05zh7pr

on the iPlayer until 21 July

Spotify

In case you cannot hear the broadcast, I have put together a Spotify playlist of most of the music in this concert, including recordings the artists have made where possible. The playlist can be found below:

What’s the music?

Hahn: Fêtes galantes; En sourdine; A Chloris (various) (9 minutes)

Poulenc: La courte paille (1960) (11 minutes)

Poulenc: Trois poèmes de Louise de Vilmorin (1937) (7 minutes)

Hahn: Venezia – Chansons en dialecte vénitien (1901) (16 minutes)

What about the music?

There is something rather special about a recital of French songs, and this intriguing program brings together one of its best exponents – the soprano Ailish Tynan – and one of the best up and coming accompanists, pianist James Baillieu. Of course to call him an ‘accompanist’ recognises just how important that role is, setting the tone and providing the colour.

The two composers here are well matched, despite their very different styles of writing. Reynaldo Hahn, born in Venezuela but moving to Paris when three years old, is best known for his songs, especially settings of Victor Hugo and Paul Verlaine. The BBC Radio 3 announcer Sara Mohr-Pietsch sums up the songs in the first trio as ‘a group of young men serenading their beloveds, the piano imitating a mandolin’ (Fêtes galantes), ‘a muted nocturnal love song’ (En sourdine) and ‘a love poem set with a loving nod to Bach (A Chloris). In contrast the cycle of five songs Venezia glorifies the gondoliers in the city, setting it as ‘the elegant playground of the rich and famous’, in Graham Johnson’s words.

Francis Poulenc, meanwhile, is completely different, writing with economy but also with an appealing brashness and humour that mean he gets away with some pretty outrageous settings. There are touching moments too, though, and in his last song cycle La coute paille (The short straw) he sets seven nonsense rhymes, a present for realised in music for the singer Denise Duval, so that she could sing them to her young boy. The simplicity of Poulenc’s musical language is perfectly suited to the text.

Complementing this is a short mini-cycle of poems set in 1937 to the poetry of another good friend, Louise de Vilmorin.

Performance verdict

Ailish Tynan is in her element in this sort of program, and the combination of Poulenc with Hahn is not one to miss. Poulenc can never resist humour in his songs and Tynan makes it her mission to seek it out, from the zany and oddball moments of La coute paille to the heady eroticism of his three de Vilmorin settings.

The performance of Venezia is glorious, and even listening on the radio you can tell just how much fun she gets from Che pecà. Before then however there are the heady heights of La barcheta, Tynan’s voice both flexible and incredibly well controlled.

James Baillieu’s setting of each scene is also carefully managed and vividly painted.

What should I listen out for?

Hahn

1:11 – Fêtes galantes A lively song, begun by the clang of the piano in the upper register, and a playful interplay between him and the singer, who has quite an unusual contour to the melodic line.

3:05 – En sourdine (Softly) A slower and much more languorous affair this, and it’s easy to imagine a hot and sultry evening where nobody is able to sleep. Verlaine’s text has something else in mind, reflected by Tynan’s wonderful higher note at 6’12” or thereabouts.

6:42 – À Chloris (To Chloris) the tread of the bass line and the profile are indeed similar to Bach, a kind of equivalent to his Sleepers Awake. Baillieu introduces the song with an admirable calm, before the rapturous entry of the singer. This rather wonderful song finishes softly at 10:08.

Poulenc

La courte paille (The short straw) – with words here

11:37 – Le sommeiil (Sleep) A light and graceful song to start the cycle – though there is a dark underside to it, as ‘sleep is on vacation’ and the mother is frustrated.

13:35 – Quelle aventure! (What an adventure!) This song trips along with outbursts in the higher register of the voice, reflecting the nonsense text of the flea pulling an elephant in a carriage. A surreal dream!

14:46 – La reine de cœur (The Queen of Hearts) This sleepy song depicts the enchantment of the queen, beckoning the listener into her castle.

16:40 – Ba, be, bi, bo, bu The nonsense is evident in the spiky piano part – depicting the cat who has put his boots on! – and in Tynan’s shrieks and whoops, brilliantly stage managed. It’s all over in a flash!

17:16 – Les anges musiciens (The musician angels) A more sombre and graceful affair, again suggesting the onset of sleep as the angels play Mozart on their harps

18:42 – Le carafon (The baby carafe) The alternation in the vocal part between swoops and gliding notes gives an indication of the surreal nature of the text.

20:01 – Lune d’Avril (April moon) Initially lost in thought, this final song of the cycle builds to an impressive climax

Trois poèmes de Louise de Vilmorin

23:45 – Le garçon de Liège (The boy of Liège) A fast moving and breathless song with plenty of ‘wrong’ notes in the piano part.

25:16 – Au-delà A colourful piano introduction alternating between two chords as the singer goes on a breathless voyage of self-examination.

26:43 – Aux officiers de la Garde Blanche (To the officers of the White Guard) A thoughtful mood runs through this song, which Graham Johnson notes to be unusual in Poulenc’s output for its contemplation.

Hahn

Ailish Tynan introduces this cycle as a portrayal of ‘sultry, steamy, sensual Venice – where young men lure you into gondolas’!

32:18 – Sopra l’acqua indormenzada (Asleep on the water) This song is notable for its high and clear sound from the soprano, as she entreats her subject to join her in the boat. As part of this she stylishly glides between notes, occasionally sliding between them (a technique known as ‘portamento’)

36:01 – La barcheta (The little boat) The boat itself is home to simmering passion in a minor key. There is a really nice ornamentation to the melody, then a vocalise on the word ‘Ah’ at the end of each verse.

39:26 – L’avertimento (The warning) An urgent song warning the lads off ‘the lovely Nana’, who ‘has the heart of a tiger’. There is an impressive outburst at the end.

41:02 – La biondina in gondoleta (The blonde girl in the gondola) A slower and longer song, describing the raptures of an encounter with the blonde girl. Heady music, with a breathless final verse!

45:35 – Che pecà! (What a shame) Described by Tynan as ‘one of my favourite songs of all time’, this is a stuttering march, perhaps suggesting the rickety man of the text. Tynan’s voice rings out on the high notes, before the ‘Che pecà’ response, a distinctive reply, falls lower down the scale to comedic effect.

Encores

48:59 The boy From… by Mary Rogers, with words by Stephen Sondheim. A send-up of The Girl from Ipanema. You may be able to hear Ailish dedicating the song to the Director of Wigmore Hall, John Gilhooly, before vividly illustrating her comic powers!

52:41 – Extase by the French composer Henri Duparc (1848-1933) The other side of the singer in a carefully controlled but poignant account.

Further listening

If you enjoyed this recital then the next recommendation can only be for more Ailish Tynan, for she is wonderful in French song. Here she is in a disc of Fauré, with the pianist Iain Burnside. Well worth hearing for the composer’s open-air writing style!

For more concerts click here

Christoph Prégardien – The Darker Side of Love

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The Darker Side of Love – Christoph Prégardien and Daniel Heide at the Wigmore Hall

christoph-pregardien

Christoph Prégardien (tenor), Daniel Heide (piano) – Wigmore Hall, London, live on BBC Radio 3, 18 May 2015

Listening link (opens in a new window):

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b05tpryp

on the iPlayer until 17 June

Spotify

In case you cannot hear the broadcast, I have put together a Spotify playlist of most of the music in this concert, including recordings the artists have made where possible. The playlist can be found here

What’s the music?

Schubert: An den Mond, D259; Schäfers Klagelied, D121

Schubert: Erster Verlust, D226

Schubert: Rastlose Liebe, D138

Schubert: Wandrers Nachtlied II, D768

Schubert: Willkommen und Abschied, D767 (17 minutes)

Schumann: Dichterliebe, Op.48 (30 minutes)

What about the music?

The relationship between Schubert and the poetry of Goethe was long-standing, beginning in October 1814 and yielding tens of songs. Many of them are darker utterances, and the collection here enjoys the composer’s ability to cast a nocturnal scene for voice and piano seemingly at will. It also celebrates his faster, galloping songs, the singer in the saddle for an action-packed horse ride, while the sheer simplicity of shorter songs such as Erster Verlust is pure and touching.

Schumann’s famous year of song reached its creative peak in May 1840, when he wrote the Liederkreis, published as Op.39, and Dichterliebe, where he sought inspiration once again from the poetry of Heinrich Heine. The quote in the Wigmore Hall program sums it up perfectly, Schumann describing the verses as ‘short, maliciously sentimental, and written in the folk style’. They evoke outdoor scenes but also inward and often crippling emotions, the singer – and possibly the listener! – an emotional liability by the end. Schumann rescues Dichterliebe, however, through the piano postludes he provides to Am leuchtenden Sommermorgen (One bright summer morning) and the closing song Die altern, bösen Lieder (The bad old songs), attempting and largely succeeding to restore stability.

Performance verdict

Christoph Prégardien has been singing these songs (or ‘Lieder’, as we should really call them!) for a long time – he recorded most of them a while back – but he still brings keen emotion to the stage.

The silence of Wigmore Hall during a song as tense as Schumann’s Ich hab’ im Traum geweinet (I wept in my dream), the ninth of Dichterliebe’s dozen, said it all. Here was a performer creating vivid pictures from Heine’s barbed text and Schumann’s equally frosty responses to the dark side.

In Schubert, too, the steely edge of even the most youthful Goethe setting could be glimpsed, brought out in an early song like An den Mond (To the Moon) by pianist Daniel Heide, stressing the notes Schubert brings in to challenge the happier times of the song.

Schubert’s horse-riding songs, Rastlose Liebe and Wilkommen und Abschied, were adrenalin-fuelled dashes into the country, while Schäfers Klaglied brilliantly evoked both the tempest and its subsequent rainbow.

Prégardien is an unfussy singer who communicates with his audience through subtle but meaningful expression, both visually and with the use of his hands. This somehow carries over to the listener too, either in the hall or at home, part of a masterclass in how to sing these songs.

What should I listen out for?

Schubert

1:50 – An den Mond (To the Moon) A calm and seemingly contented song to begin the selection – though there are some warning signs, chiefly in the piano part, to suggest all is not well.

5:27 – Schäfers Klagelied (Shepherd’s lament) A downcast and solemn song, with a vivid depiction of a storm in its central section from the piano (from 6:55), which also somehow describes the resultant rainbow (7:13) before a return to sadness.

8:58 – Erster Verlust (First loss) A song of striking simplicity and sadness, with an aching melody where the purity of Prégardien’s tone really comes through

11:22 – Rastlose Liebe (Restless love) A song that gallops out of the blocks with its rapid movement on the piano, and the breathless voice almost struggles to keep up. Meine signs off beautifully at 12:30.

12:47 – Wandrers Nachtlied II (Wanderer’s Nightsong II) Here we can feel the stillness of a summer evening, the conditions in which Goethe scribbled the verses for this poem as he stood outside in a garden. Prégardien’s higher notes are beautifully tailored.

15:18 – Willkommen und Abschied (Greeting and farewell) Another of Schubert’s quick dashes through the text, though at the end of each verse we have a pregnant pause. Prégardien cries out ‘ihr Götter’ (‘O gods!’) at 17:17. The text at the end translates as ‘what a joy to be loved’

Schumann

The words for Dichterliebe can be found here

21:12 – Im wunderschönen Monat Mai (In the wondrous month of May) A graceful song to begin the cycle, with some beautiful top notes (the translated words ‘blossom’ and ‘desire’) that Prégardien very subtly stresses through a pause.

22:54 – Aus meinen Tränen sprießen (From my tears will spring) The spring-like openness continues, in the same key.

23:51 – Die Rose, die Lilie, die Taube, die Sonne (Rose, lily, dove) A playful song, over in a flash!

24:23 – Wenn ich in deine Augen seh (When I look into your eyes) A tender love song, that tellingly moves to the purity C major to tell of how ‘when I kiss your lips, then I am wholly healed’. There is a yearning postlude on the piano.

26:12 – Ich will meine Seele tauchen (Let me bathe my soul) Another short love song, this time with a flowing, watery piano accompaniment.

27:08 – Im Rhein, im heiligen Strome (In the Rhine, the holy river) The singer adopts a much more imposing tone to evoke the grandeur of the Rhine and the great cathedral of Cologne, where hangs an image of ‘Our beloved Lady’ – which the singer equates to that of his own love. The piano postlude is reminiscent of a Baroque aria.

29:16 – Ich grolle nicht (I bear no grudge) The text turns darker, though the musical language is still generally positive. The tenor has a heavier tone here, the voice more of a baritone in its richness.

30:49 – Und wüßten’s die Blumen, die kleinen (If the little flowers only knew) The piano matches the tenor in this flowing, limpid song – spring like in its subject matter but ultimately sad and regretful at a broken heart. This leads straight into…

32:05 – Das ist ein Flöten und Geigen (What a fluting and fiddling) A proud song but once again with a darker centre.

33:29 – Hör’ ich das Liedchen klingen (When I hear the little song) This is Heine’s poetry at its coldest, and in this brief song it gets a suitably bare response from Schumann, who then attempts some consolation in the extended piano postlude, which in reality says just as much as the song does.

35:47 – Ein Jüngling liebt ein Mädchen (A boy loves a girl) A more positive mood now – but soon the poetry turns dark as well. Schumann keeps his tongue firmly in his cheek, allowing the tenor a bit of sardonic humour and the piano a grand finish

36:47 – Am leuchtenden Sommermorgen (One bright summer morning) A beautifully simple song – though now the mood of sadness is taking hold with greater certainty. Again we have a longer piano postlude, the pianist reflecting the text through music and trying to console.

39:38 – Ich hab’ im Traum geweinet (I wept in my dream) Schumann’s use of silence here is striking and altogether ominous. Prégardien gathers the power of the final verse, the texture sparse as can be, until the music stops abruptly.

42:25 – Allnächtlich im Traume (Nightly in my dreams) An elusive song – another dream but one the poet cannot really remember – which possibly explains why Schumann leaves the music sounding half-finished at the end.

43:54 – Aus alten Märchen winkt es (A white hand beckons) There is greater optimism in this song, using the upper register of the piano for the first time in a while, but once again Heine insists on an ending that takes away the potential for happiness. Schumann’s music rescues this in the postlude however!

46:39 – Die alten, bösen Lieder (The bad old songs) A bit of nostalgia to finish – though this is a purge, the poet casting all his ‘bad and bitter dreams’ away in a heavy coffin. Schumann responds with gallows humour, a song that is bold and defiant in its execution but which fades away to reflection. Once again we have a piano postlude, this one even more meaningful as it tries to draw the cycle to a soft conclusion. In the right performance however, like this one, a level of bitterness remains.

Encore

53:05 – Schumann – Mit Myrthen und Rosen (With myrtle and roses) (the last song from Liederkreis, Op.24) This has an effortless, upward curve to the melody. Prégardien’s gestures to the audience here were beautifully observed.

Further listening

With Christoph Prégardien demonstrating his almost unparalleled abilities in Schubert, here is a Spotify link to a recent recording of him singing the great Schubert song cycle Winterreise. Again this is music on the dark side, but is greatly inspired at that. Texts can be found http://www.recmusic.org/lieder/assemble_texts.html?SongCycleId=47″>here and the playlist is here

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Sara Mingardo sings Italian Laments

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Sara Mingardo – Italian Laments at the Wigmore Hall

sara-mingardo

Sara Mingardo (contralto), Ivano Zanenghi (theorbo), Giorgio Dal Monte (harpsichord) – Wigmore Hall, London, live on BBC Radio 3, 11 May 2015

Listening link (opens in a new window):

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b05tpryp

on the iPlayer until 10 June

Spotify

In case you cannot hear the broadcast, I have put together a Spotify playlist of most of the music in this concert, including recordings the artists have made where possible. The playlist can be found here

What’s the music?

Monteverdi (1567-1643): Quel sguardo sdegnosetto; Voglio di vita uscir, voglio che cadano (8 minutes)

Frescobaldi (1583-1643): Toccata Seconda (5 minutes)

Andrea Falconieri (1586-1656): Vezzosette e care pupillette; Non più d’amore (4 minutes)

Giacomo Carissimi (1605-1674): Deh memoria e che più chiedi? (7 minutes)

Alessandro Piccinini (1566-c1638): Toccata XX; Aria di sarabanda in varie partite (6 minutes)

Salvatore (early 1600s -1688): Allor che Tirsi udia (9 minutes)

Barbara Strozzi (1619-1677): L’Eraclito amoroso (6 minutes)

What about the music?

First, a bit about the voice and instruments in this concert. Sara Mingardo is a contralto singer – that is, lower than a soprano and a little bit lower and richer in colour than a mezzo-soprano. Think of a boy alto, add femininity and a lot of body to the sound and you have something approaching her voice.

In this concert she is accompanied by Giorgio Dal Monte, playing a harpsichord from the late seventeenth century, and Ivano Zanenghi, playing a theorbo. The theorbo is a variation on the lute – which, in case you didn’t know, is a very early equivalent to the guitar. This particular instrument is a recreation and has no fewer than thirteen strings! They are spread over two different frets, rather like the instrument pictured here (photo from Early Music Studio:

theorbo

The music itself is all from the Renaissance and early Baroque periods in Italy. The only composer names likely to be familiar to listeners are Monteverdi and Frescobaldi, both pioneers in their expressive vocal music. The trio perform the music all together, save for a harpsichord solo (the Frescobaldi) and two pieces for the theorbo by Alessandro Piccinini. As you will hear the styles are particularly expressive, particularly in the laments – which most of these songs are.

Performance verdict

If you have yet to see Sara Mingardo perform then I urge you to do so without delay. Everything about her concerts draws the audience in, from the carefully thought out programs to her irresistible performance manner. Everything is delivered with musical freedom, and – text allowing – a modest yet winning smile.

Yet of course the voice is the reason for experiencing Mingardo’s charms in person, for she has an incredibly rich sound especially to the lower register that is rare among singers. Even better, she knows just how to control it.

This concert was beautifully put together and executed, and the laments carried an almost painful intensity that reduced the Wigmore Hall audience to silence. They were countered by airy, improvisatory pieces for harpsichord (Frescobaldi) and theorbo (Piccini) which were stylishly played by Giorgio Dal Monte and Ivano Zanenghi respectively.

This was very much a voyage of discovery, a reminder of just how intense Italian vocal music of the Renaissance and early Baroque periods can be.

What should I listen out for?

Monteverdi

1:34 – Quel sguardo sdegnosetto (A message) This song begins with an amiable figure on harpsichord and theorbo. The rhythms have a gentle lilt and the voice, rich and luxurious, uses melisma – which is a form of writing where a single word is spread over a large number of notes.

4:32 – Voglio di vita uscir, voglio che cadano (I want to leave this life, if by loving you I have offended you) A sprightly second song, cheery in spite of its subject matter. Towards the end it takes on sombre colouring as the harpsichord is replaced by the softer tones of the theorbo, and Mingardo sings ‘S’apre la tomba, il mio morir t’annutio’ (‘The tomb opens, I proclaim my death to you’). The control from Mingardo at the end is heartfelt and exquisite.

Frescobaldi

10:58 – This solo harpsichord piece becomes progressively more elaborate as it progresses. It is not rigid in tempo, which makes it sound improvised, and eventually the writing for right hand sounds like a waterfall of notes.

Falconieri

17:00 – Vezzosette e care pupillette (Bewitching and beloved sparkling eyes) Quite an elaborate theorbo introduction, and Mingardo uses a swooning vocal style here, especially when the text is repeated.

19:48 – Non più d’amore (No more wooing) Another very expressive though song which finds Mingardo in the upper part of her range.

Carissimi

21:26 – Deh, memoria (Say, memory) – a slow introduction reveals the rich tone of Mingardo’s lower range. This is a profound song written in the pain of another’s death, and Mingardo gives a powerful and emotive performance, shadowed beautifully and stylishly by the harpsichord and theobo. The song is especially profound at the end, returning to the singer’s lower range.

Piccinini

29:26 – Toccata XX. This begins almost as though the player was tuning up, with a very relaxed approach. Piccinini makes use of the lowest notes on the theorbo, which gives the music an expansive quality.

31:54 – Aria di Sarabanda in varie partite. The Aria sets out a short loop of music over which there are progressively more complicated variations, rather in the vein of Pachelbel’s Canon which was to follow a number of years later. Some of the variations go up quite high on the instrument.

Salvatore

36:25 – All’hor che Tirsti (When Thyrsis heard) In this declamatory song Sara Mingardo seems to be shaking a fist at the ‘Crudi fati, astri malvagi’ (‘Cruel fates, evil stars’). The accompaniment is initially for harpsichord only, the theorbo making a notable appearance at asdr when Mingardo sings ‘Et tu, caro ben mio’ (‘And you, my dear beloved’). Then she alternates between anger and a deeply mournful tone, with which this extremely expressive song ends.

Strozzi

44:36 – L’Eraclito amoroso (Hear, lovers) There is a florid accompaniment to more cursing of bad fortune. The sobbing nature of melodic writing when Mingardo sings ‘I singulti mi sanano’ (‘Sobs are my healing balm’) is striking. Towards the end Mingardo sings ever so slightly flat, deliberately accentuating the sorrow felt by the subject of the song, before finishing on an extremely low note.

Encore

52:31 – Tarquinio Merula (1594-1665) – Folle e ben che si crede. A more relaxed air to this encore, the voice floating on the higher notes. There is a lovely transition where Mingardo arcs gracefully up to a higher note at the end.

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Wigmore Hall Portrait Gallery – Christiane Karg and Gerold Huber

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Wigmore Hall Portrait Gallery – Christiane Karg and Gerold Huber perform an intricate sequence of portraits of literary figures by Wolf, Brahms, Richard Strauss, Hahn and Duparc

christiane-karg-gerold-huberChristiane Karg and Gerold Huber – Wigmore Hall, live on BBC Radio 3, 9 February 2015. Photos © Steven Haberland / Albert Lindmeier

Listening link (opens in a new window):

http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b051zyhb

on the iPlayer until 8 April

For non-UK listeners, this Spotify playlist is available:

For those unable to hear the broadcast I have put together a Spotify playlist. Christiane has recorded the Strauss songs but nothing else from the program, so I have chosen suitable available versions:

What’s the music?

Wolf – 4 Mignon Lieder (1888) (15 minutes)

Brahms and Richard Strauss – Ophelia Lieder (interspersed – the music is Brahms’ 5 Ophelia-Lieder (1873) and Strauss’s 3 Ophelia Lieder Op.67 (1918) followed by Saint-Saëns – La mort d’Ophélie (1857) (14 minutes in total)

Hahn – 3 songs (Lydé (1900), A Chloris (1916) and Séraphine (1896) (8 minutes)

Duparc – 2 songs (Phidylé (1882), Romance de Mignon (1869) (9 minutes)

What about the music?

wigmore-portraits
Ophelia by John Everett Millais (1852) is part of the Tate Gallery collection. His painting influenced the image in Kenneth Branagh’s Hamlet.

This is a really well chosen program from Karg and Huber, justifying the singer’s burning of the midnight oil (in the announcer’s anecdote!) to come up with some vivid character portraits that draw the casual listener in through the links between the songs. This is surely how a song recital should be structured.

Thanks to their enterprise we get an interesting blend of Romantic Lieder – that is, nineteenth century song writing that is much more obviously expressive. German composers are strongly represented, beginning with Wolf’s four settings of Goethe, and his poems on the tragic figure of Mignon.

Then our gaze turns to Ophelia, by way of five early Brahms Lieder and three late, eccentric interpretations by Richard Strauss – before a French alternative from Saint-Saëns.

Finally the heady fragrance of three sublime songs from Hahn and two more substantial, meaty efforts from Duparc clinch a consistently engaging recital.

Performance verdict

On this evidence – listening on the radio rather than in the hall – Karg and Huber are ideally matched. Their delivery is especially emotive during the Wolf, where the soprano inhabits a lot of the distress and strife handed out to Mignon.

It is a great idea to fuse the portraits of Ophelia in this way, and anyone approaching Brahms songs for the first time would be surprised at the brevity and simplicity of them. They contrast nicely with the Richard Strauss examples, where Karg shows a lot of vocal agility without ever losing control.

The French songs are sumptuous, especially the Hahn, throwing open the doors to let in some Spring light.

What should I listen out for?

Wolf

The words for these songs can be found here

1:55 – Heiss mich nicht reden (Bid me not speak) – the first Mignon setting moves in unexpected harmonic directions, never really sure of itself as Mignon seeks peace ‘in the arms of a friend’. Judging by the piano postlude this is not found.

5:04 – Nur wer die Sehnsucht kennt (Only those who know yearning) – a sombre minor-key opening from the piano.

7:25 – So lasst mich scheinen (Let me seem to be an angel) – a cold piano sound and a distracted vocal. Again the harmonies move restlessly, as does the melody, the song in a dream state but not at rest either.

10:47 – Kennst du das Land (Do you know the land)– a rather more positive outlook in this relatively relaxed song until a sudden outburst from the piano, which on its second appearance follows a particularly fraught passage from the soprano.

Brahms / Richard Strauss

The words for the Brahms can be found here, and for the Richard Strauss here

18:57 – the first of five very brief Brahms songs – this one a thoughtful melody with singer and piano together.

19:42 – the second Brahms song, a mere 20 seconds!

20:06 – the first Strauss song inhabits a weird world of a piano part seemingly cut loose from its moorings, and a melody that doesn’t have an obvious resting point. Mysterious but intriguingly so.

22:37 – the third Brahms song, a much brighter affair.

23:12 – the second Strauss song trips along in a state of high agitation but is perhaps too short to make a sustained impact.

24:44 – the fourth Brahms song, another incredibly brief number – but beautifully delivered here.

25:32 – the fifth Brahms song – even though it is a minute long there is still a distinctive melody here.

26:49 – the third Strauss song, and a deeply mysterious one that casts its spell immediately through the piano line, broken momentarily by outbursts in the middle and at the end.

Saint-Saëns

29:58 – an urgent song from the French composer, with the high soprano voice doubled by the left hand of the piano.

Hahn

The words for the Hahn songs are to be found here

35:04 – Lydé – a much more positive outlook is immediately evident in this song, with an open air texture and bright vocal. There is a grand piano postlude, and what sounds like a wrong note.

37:50 – A Chloris – a twinkling piano introduction has a melodic ornamentation that takes its lead from Bach’s AIr on the G string before the soprano arrives in a lower register. A contemplative song, one of Hahn’s very best, this is beautifully sung by Karg. The interaction with the piano is ideal.

40:33 – Séraphine – a calm and radiant atmosphere runs through the third Hahn song.

Duparc

The words for the Duparc songs can be found here

43:28 – Phidylé – Karg sounds imperious in her control of the fuller melody that makes the second part of this song. The exotic musical language is very much in thrall to Wagner, and reaches its peak with high notes and turbulent, stormy piano writing.

48:15 – Romance de Mignon – another perfumed song, but this is an early song suppressed by the composer. Duparc writes so well for the voice.

Encore

54:00 – Schubert’s Gretchen am Spinnrade – going back to the first composer to write about the ‘mad woman’ Mignon, as Karg describes her. Huber shapes the piano part superbly under Karg’s urgent vocal.

Want to hear more?

It is difficult to suggest another step after such an intriguing and well-thought program, but underneath the songs of on the Spotify link above are further possibilities – including Wolf’s remarkable Prometheus, Brahms’s Four Serious Songs, in a legendary recording from Jessye Norman, and to finish some more Duparc.

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