Mozart, Wagner, Rossini, Berlioz, Tchaikovsky, Glinka:   Sarah Connolly (mezzo-soprano) Bryn Terfel (bass-baritone) BBC Symphony Orchestra cond. Jiří Bĕlohlávek, Barbican Hall, London, 16.03. 2007 (ME)
 

 

 

‘Programming a concert is always a journey,’ said the Barbican’s Head of Music – ‘and this one more so than most.’ He wasn’t joking - most of the audience had booked to hear the Americans Thomas Hampson and Susan Graham, both sadly rare visitors to London, but Hampson had cancelled during the previous week, and the Barbican managed the considerable coup of engaging Bryn Terfel to replace him – then, at even shorter notice, Susan Graham cancelled, to be replaced by Sarah Connolly, another more familiar face and voice as far as London audiences are concerned. There must have been some backstage collywobbles with these changes, but in the event the concert, whilst not providing the vocal fireworks we might have expected from the original participants, was a definite success, for much of which the BBCSO and its conductor were responsible.

 

I often lose interest during the orchestral portions of vocal recitals, mainly because these segments seem little more than fillers, and dull ones at that; not so on this occasion, however, with the BBCSO providing some really classy playing in the Overture to Der fliegende Holländer – it’s been a while since I’ve encountered a brass section with so much gold and so little snarl, and a conductor with such sharp command of the vital contrasts between the tempestuous and the redemptive in this music. The Overtures to Don Giovanni and Ruslan and Ludmila were given with similar verve and style, and throughout the evening the quality of the playing and direction, whilst never drawing undue attention to itself, was remarkable  - not to mention the occasional deft ‘saves’ which Bĕlohlávek performed for the singers.

 

Terfel began with a characterful, rather fussy rendition of the ‘catalogue aria,’ with plenty of ‘involvement’ to delight certain sections of the audience – the singing was masterly, despite the odd swallowed line-ending, and it was greatly to his credit that unlike many other singers, he eschewed any sense of coy knowingness in those final lines, instead opting for an almost angry sense of awareness of the reality of the Don’s attitude. Connolly’s first offering was ‘Parto, parto,’ given with her characteristic directness and nobility of tone even though, understandably, the dramatic element was a little subdued - she was wonderfully supported by the orchestra, with an especially eloquent clarinet solo from Richard Hosford.

 

‘Io ti lascio, oh cara, addio’ is one of those dubious pieces around which questions of authorship and provenance revolve, but it is still a rare treat to hear it, whether or not it is entirely by Mozart, and Terfel’s gently hesitant, delicately phrased and sensitively characterized performance was an object lesson in how a huge voice can scale itself down to the right proportions for such a miniature. Connolly closed the first half with an equally intimate reading of ‘Deh, per questo istante solo,’ showing that it is not necessary to go for exaggerated effects in order to move your listeners.

 

‘Die Frist is um’ was the highlight of the concert, as you might expect: this is Terfel’s territory, and it would be difficult to imagine a more tortured, defiant, despairing and yet when required tender portrayal of the ‘fliegende Holländer’ – it was all here, from the rage at ‘Ha, stolzer Ozean!’ through the bitterness of ‘Doch ach! Den Tod, ich fand ihn nicht!’ to the poignant supplication of ‘Dich frage ich, gepriesner Engel Gottes’ – and all superbly partnered by the players. Sadly, Connolly was less successful with ‘D’amour l’ardente flamme,’ but that was hardly surprising: this, after all, is Susan Graham’s speciality just as Wagner is Terfel’s, and it was brave of her to take it on, given that she does not really possess the required smoky, languid tone for this music, nor the requisite exactness in French diction, nor the almost febrile phrasing which Graham brings to it; this was consequently a gentle, reflective Marguerite, rather than the passionate, consumed woman created by a Susan Graham or a Janet Baker.

 

This may not have been the ‘American showcase’ intended, but it was still an evening of much musical pleasure, chiefly provided by the orchestra and by Terfel’s Wagner – and with no cheesy duets or tackily embarrassing encores, I am not one to complain.

 

 

Melanie Eskenazi