This recording is so
good that I've no hesitation in recommending
it as a "best buy" despite
the many others on the market. Roderick
Williams is the Ralph Vaughan Williams
specialist par excellence. He
probably sings more Vaughan Williams
than anyone else. Most of his career
has been in English song, so his understanding
is instinctive. He sings "from
within", as they say, with an intuitive
appreciation of what makes the music
work.
The Songs of Travel
are recorded much more frequently
than their inherent merit might suggest.
Still redolent of the closed atmosphere
of Victorian parlour songs, of Parry
and of Stanford, they aren't quite in
the same league as the composer's later
works. Their charm, therefore, depends
greatly on interpretation. Technically
they are not a great challenge. Singers
like Terfel and Luxon, with big, deep
voices capture their robust muscularity.
Williams, however, has a lieder singer's
knack of inflecting nuance so subtly
that it seems effortless. "Let
beauty awake, for beauty's sake"
is convincing because it's sung with
exquisite beauty. Again and again, Williams’
agile voice breathes warmth and colour.
He shapes each word, each phrase, each
line with such grace that the songs
seem transformed into great art. By
the Roadside Fire may have a silly
text, and Vaughan Williams may still
be finding his voice, but Williams makes
it sound superb. Where the composer
is on form, as in the gentle, nebulous
Youth and Love, the total effect
is breathtaking. Vaughan Williams' capacity
for really subtle, modern writing becomes
clear.
Dante Gabriel Rossetti's
poems are more of a challenge than the
solid certainty of R.L. Stevenson, and
Vaughan Williams’ settings are rather
more sophisticated. Everyone knows and
loves Silent Noon, with its understated
sensuality. "'Tis visible silence,
still as the hourglass..."
sings Williams, shaping words like "dragonfly
hangs ... like a blue thread loosened
from the sky" with the gentlest
breath. It truly feels like something
diaphanous floating hazily in the air.
Then he captures the rapturous, yet
restrained passion of the final verse,
ending with a magnificently controlled
"song" ( as in "'twas
the song of love"). This particular
note stands too high, and lasts too
long for many baritones, who have to
moderate its pitch. Williams sings it
as it should be, to spectacular effect.
When the repeat occurs, the memory of
this soaring note remains, even though
the reprise is taken at a more comfortable
lower register. It is magic, like a
hovering reminder of the tenuous beauty
of images like the dragonfly, fingertips
in the grass and "this close-companioned
inarticulate hour". Even Felicity
Lott, whose pure, clean soprano manages
the crescendo easily, cannot quite achieve
the same impact that Williams’ baritone
does. There are so many exquisite moments
on this recording, that I cannot begin
to quote them all: this Silent Noon
is so good it is reason alone to purchase
this disc. Nonetheless, this is perhaps
the finest version of House of Life
I have heard. Williams and Burnside
shape it well – Love's Last Gift
bringing forth particularly expressive
playing from Burnside. It is far more
convincing as a coherent song cycle
than Songs of Travel, which the
notes describe, curiously as a "kind
of English Winterreise".
Even more famous than
Silent Noon is Linden Lea.
Its appeal, however is its sheer, straightforward
simplicity. Williams wisely does not
need to inflect it with too much detail.
It's nice and uncomplicated, and sings
itself, so to speak. He puts his efforts
towards the four Fredegond Shove songs,
first performed some twenty years after
the two cycles. Shove was a well known
poet, and friend of the composer, but
frankly there are many infelicitous
constructions in this verse. Vaughan
Williams nonetheless turns them into
atmospheric art pieces. Motion and
Stillness is exactly as it sounds,
a study by the composer of tomes and
semi-tones, shifting tempi and silences.
Williams makes this exquisite miniature
shimmer by stretching the long, unbroken
melodic lines, varying it with subtle
changes in vocal shading. This is no
easy feat, and requires performers of
genuine sensitivity to the changes in
the music. The virtuoso piece here is
The New Ghost. The poem is a
ludicrous tale of a soul rising from
a grave to kiss God. Fortunately, the
composer focuses on creating a lament
in an amorphous minor key. Accompanied
only by the sparest monochrome on piano,
Williams draws out the plaintive chant,
with minimal but deft shading, curving
his inflections like the movement of
the ghost gently ascending to heaven.
In lesser hands, this song can fall
flat. That it convinces here is a tribute
to Williams and Burnside.
I could quote example
after example, in nearly every song,
for there are so many wonderful moments
on this disc. But it would be pointless.
This is such a beautiful recording that
it should be a must in any collection
of Vaughan Williams or English songs.
Despite formidable competition it is
easily "best in class". Get
it.
Anne Ozorio