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Austrian
mezzo-soprano sings art songs with consummate sophistication |
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ANGELIKA
KIRCHSCHLAGER,
Martin Martineau, Piano Performance at the Renee and
Henry Segerstrom Concert Hall,
There were no showy opera arias, no empty display of bravura. Instead, Ms. Kirchschlager communicated in a simple and direct manner the subtle emotions contained in the five sets of lieder. All the lieder chosen were from the late Nineteenth Century, with the exception of Haydn’s folksy, playful English songs. Well-known for her Mozart and Strauss roles in the opera house, Ms. Kirchschlager possesses a voice of dark, bittersweet qualities. It is not a particularly rich voice, but so well schooled in the Italian art of belcanto that it can intensify to the point of breaking or pare down to the thinnest column of air, all without losing its sweet and pure quality. This was heard memorably in Haydn’s “Pastoral Song” (final strophe sung in half-voice) and in Liszt’s “Oh quand je dors” (with a sustained pianissimo ending). It is a youthful voice capable of universal expression of love, longing, and consolation – the central themes of the Romantic lied. Therefore, it didn’t matter that Grieg had written his Op. 48 Sechs Lieder for a male singer; Ms. Kirchschlager’s heartfelt singing conveyed the passion and poetic ardor that were the essence of these songs. The song, “die verschwiegene Nachtigall”, in particular, should illustrate my point. The song opens with a melismatic melody, mimicking a nightingale. In the first strophe of the song, the girl fondly recalls the grassy meadow where she and her boyfriend met. At the end of the strophe we hear the nightingale echoing in the voice and the piano. In the second strophe, the lovers kiss, the nightingale’s call becoming slower and more languorous. In the third strophe, the girl shyly and coyly hopes the bird won’t betray her secret. We hear the nightingale one last time, echoing and fainting into distance. In the three strophes, the singing of the nightingale grew more sensuous and suggestive, until it was hushed at the end. There are many such examples of strophic songs that Ms. Kirchschlager excels in, notably Brahms’ “In dem Schatten meiner Locken” and Schubert’s “Du bist die Ruh” and “Bei dir allein”, where every strophe of the song was made different and interesting. To me, that’s what distinguishes an artist from a mere chanteuse.
Ms. Kirchschlager had a fine accompanist in Malcolm Martineau, whose delicate colorings in the Nightingale song matched her singing. The pianist also dispatched some lushly lyrical passages in Brahms’ “Der gang zum liebchen” (a running night waltz) and “Von ewiger lieber” (lots of Sturm und Drang). A few people I heard complained about his over-pedaling, but that’s more of a preference issue, not a fault. The Gypsy song of Liszt (“Die drei Zigeuner”) could have been done with less pedal, but the effects would certainly have been far less colorful. The audience was polite but hardly enthusiastic. Only one out of two prepared encores was given, Liszt’s “Es muss ein Wunderbares sein”. It was a simple, quiet song full of bittersweet-tasting nuances like the finest dark chocolate. The singer’s artful sophistication and understated charms clearly went unappreciated by an audience that was more artful than sophisticated. The new Renee and Henry Segerstrom Concert Hall is fortunate indeed to have established the Salzburg connection, starting with the visit by the Mozarteum Orchestra in October, and the performance by the Salzburg Marionette Theater, to the appearance by the Salzburg-born Angelika Kirchschlager. Dare we hope the return of the Vienna Philharmonic is not too far in the offing? For ticket information on upcoming events at
the Orange County Performing Arts Center, visit
www.ocpac.org
Truman C. Wang is editor-in-chief of Classical Voice, whose articles have appeared in the San Gabriel Valley Tribune, the Pasadena Star-News and other Southern California publications. |
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