
MAHLER: 5 Rückert-Lieder. HANDEL: Arias from Ariodante and Theodora.
LIEBERSON: 5 Rilke Songs (excerpts). "Triraksha's aria" from Ashoka's Dream. TRAD.: Deep River. BRAHMS: Unbewegte laue Luft.
Lorraine Hunt Lieberson (mezzo), Roger Vignoles (piano).
Recorded Live at Wigmore Hall, London, 30 November 1998.
Wigmore Hall WHLive0013 (F) (DDD) TT: 59:22
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Just about perfect. In this recital recorded live by BBC 3, the late mezzo
Lorraine Hunt Lieberson lets you know why so many listeners miss her.
I would have loved to have actually sat in a real seat with her on stage.
I count among the treasures of my concert-going life a couple of recitals
by Janet Baker. Lieberson operates at the same level, although her voice,
fine as it is, hasn't the spooky beauty of Baker's. Nevertheless, her musical
intelligence and her ability to communicate equals her predecessor's. I
got hooked on Lieberson when I heard her Bach with Craig Smith and the
forces of Boston's Emmanuel Church (available on Nonesuch 79692). Smith
and his band of heroes (full complement of singers and instrumentalists)
do a Bach cantata every week as part of the service. This I have seen live,
twice, and I still have trouble believing it -- not that a bunch of professionals
couldn't bull their way through a Bach cantata after a week's rehearsal,
but that it should be some of the best Bach singing I've ever heard in
my life. You don't even have to buy a ticket. Before she went on to a stellar
career, Lieberson sang with those guys regularly. I'm sure she was a great
musician before, but -- let's face it -- Bach sharpens you.
Elgar used to plead for "singers with brains." A mere voice
for him didn't cut it. He preferred a musical intelligence that got
behind the notes to the emotional message. Lieberson, amazingly, started
out
as
a professional, working, freelance violist. When her instrument got
stolen, she turned to singing professionally. My own theory about her
musicianship
has to do with her experience as a chamber player. She seems preternaturally
alert to her accompaniment, and she reacts to it, giving the listener
the impression that the music has just been thought up, like jazz.
When you
have that and a singer with a technique so magnificent that she not
only can do anything, she can think of great things to do that would
have
escaped all but a rare few, you've got Lorraine Hunt Lieberson.
The program opens with the Rückert songs of Mahler. Again, Lieberson
competes with Baker, accompanied by Barbirolli, yet (currently available
on EMI 66996). The latter stands among the finest Mahler performances ever,
both for the singer and the accompaniment. It's too much to expect pianist
Roger Vignoles to perfectly mimic the Mahler orchestra, but he certainly
creates a terrific metaphor for it. His control over the dynamics of imitative
voices is superb. Lieberson glows -- rapturous in "Liebst du um Schönheit," warm
and lovely in "Blicke mir nicht in die Lieder," soaring from
deep funk to high ecstasy in "Um Mitternacht." Furthermore, it's
not a cookie-cutter account. Clichés of song interpretation
-- the plummy scoop and swoop, the sudden pianissimo -- she has banished.
You
know she's thought hard about these poems. She presents you again and
again with surprising details within a musical line so flexible, you
feel as
if you make simultaneous discoveries with her as she sings.
The Handel recalls Hunt's stage success in both Ariodante and Theodora. It's difficult to get to the dramatic truth of Baroque opera and oratorio
-- so remote from our concepts of realism -- but within those conventions,
Handel counts as one of the great dramatists. In the Ariodante excerpt,
he sets a frazzled, psychologically confused state, more complex than the
usual abandoned lover. In the Theodora aria, he portrays great faith and
inner strength. The Theodora text is a bit of pious claptrap, taken by
itself, but Lieberson turns the aria into a triumph. By the way, she has
recorded the complete operas: Ariodante with Nicholas McGegan on Harmonia
Mundi 907146, Theodora with William Christie on Kultur Video DVD 2099,
a Glyndebourne production directed by Peter Sellars.
Lorraine Hunt met composer Peter Lieberson during the production of
the premiere of Lieberson's opera Ashoka's Dream. Shortly thereafter,
she
became Lorraine Hunt Lieberson. Peter Lieberson, in contrast to most
composers
influenced by dodecaphony, knew how to write for the voice, and married
to such a spectacular singer, became even melodious. "Triraksha's
Aria," from Ashoka's Dream, suffers a bit, divorced from its context
in the complete work. It doesn't work as an aria on its own, underscored
by the fact that the mezzo delivers a brief plot summary to the audience
before she sings. The Rilke songs come off far better. Although certainly
contemporary in idiom, they have the sound of classic German Lied.
In their close following of textual rhythm and meaning, they remind
me of
Strauss
and Wolf. Momentary consonances take on the burdens of epiphany at
corresponding moments in the poems themselves. Rilke has always been
one of my favorite
poets, and Peter Lieberson joins those few composers who, like Hindemith,
have set him with real understanding. His wife sings with so much heart
and with such beauty, I, like Linda Richman, got farklemt.
The recital closes with two encores: Harry T. Burleigh's classic arrangement
of "Deep River" and Brahms's "Unbewegte laue Luft." Lieberson
loved the spiritual and worked it into many of her appearances (including,
memorably, a gala performance of Fledermaus). It almost became a manifesto:
what an American singer could sing without self-consciousness or affectation.
Her ability to sing in English -- a rare asset even in native-born
classical singers -- without resorting to operatic orotundity or to
a grotesque,
unintentional parody of pop makes the performance. As in Mozart, considerable
art from both the singer and the arranger has gone into producing an
effect of pure simplicity.
For some reason, compared to Schubert and Mahler, Brahms's songs --
excepting the four serious ones -- aren't much done. A shame, really.
Many treasures
await the adventurous singer. Lieberson chooses not the relatively
popular "Von
waldbekränzter Höhe," but the quite-rare "Unbewegte
laue Luft" ("motionless, mild air"). The poem begins
as a picture of nocturnal stillness, then moves to a het-up ending,
as the
speaker anticipates a tryst with the beloved. It takes something to
get from one mood to the other with conviction, but Lieberson and Vignoles
pull it off. From an atmosphere where the slightest movement makes
a
huge impact, we wind up in a glorious paean to Romantic love (sex,
actually, but never mind that now), and Lieberson sounds both alert
in the nocturne
and ready to burst from anticipation at the end.
Again, I should mention Vignoles. He has often partnered with singers I
didn't care for but has always made them better than they really were.
Like the legendary Gerald Moore, he doesn't fall into a generic accompaniment.
His lines bristle with detail, based on the meaning of the texts. With
a musician of Lieberson's caliber, he blossoms, playing at a whole 'nother,
higher level. An outstanding feature of this recital is the way Lieberson
and Vignoles listen to each other, so that, despite whatever pre-planning
went into their preparation, they remain alive to the surprise of performance.
An outstanding disc.
S.G.S. (October 2007)