Perhaps it is to my
disadvantage that I did not have the
opportunity to hear the first two volumes
of this series, of which one more is
to come; as it is, it is not entirely
clear to me what philosophy lies behind
Graham Johnson’s grouping of songs and
singers.
It would appear that,
as in his great Schubert edition, he
intends to plan each disc according
to a theme; however, while this may
be a plausible way of orienting the
listener among the bewildering number
of separate songs which comprise the
larger part of Schubert’s output, in
Fauré’s case we have the composer’s
opus numbers as a reasonable chronological
guide, into which the few unnumbered
songs could be slipped quite easily.
Furthermore, the sheer
number of songs by Schubert meant that
the discs could be arranged by theme
and allotted each to a single
singer (with very few exceptions). Here
we have two complete cycles, the Shylock
music and pickings from the other opus
numbers sung by two sopranos, two tenors
and two baritones – with a second pianist
for good measure in the Shylock interludes.
The whole thing becomes redolent of
one of those end-of-term conservatoire
concerts where a bunch of singers appear
one by one, each singing a couple of
pieces and then, just as you are beginning
to tune in to their particular interpretative
personality, giving way to another.
In the end it sounds more like a string
of singers auditioning to make a Fauré
record than the real thing.
We therefore find ourselves
comparing and contrasting a light but
creamy British tenor with a reedy, nasal
French one – an acquired taste, but
perhaps worth acquiring in this repertoire,
especially when handled with such quiet
ease. We can compare two British baritones
who have been found (not only by me)
to be a shade too ready with their vibrato
and their off-the-voice pianos, and
discover that, heard side by side, Maltman
is the more refulgent in tone. In a
total of 04’ 08" we are reminded
of Dame Felicity Lott’s creamy-voiced,
easy-soaring Straussian soprano (well
restrained for the present purpose);
in comparison, Jennifer Smith, in the
02’ 20" allotted to her, seems
to be struggling to emerge and her darker
tones suggest she may really be a mezzo.
With a whole (or even half) disc at
her disposal, maybe she would prove
a highly communicative artist (as we
know Lott to be). So in the end, only
Christopher Maltman, who gets the major
cycle "La bonne chanson",
has the time to engage us fully.
However, while the
recital is bitty and disparate in one
sense, in another it consistently presents
one view of how Fauré should
be performed. Johnson’s copious notes
are replete with warnings to performers
who take alternative views. Of "Notre
amour" he remarks that this piece
is "often heard as a breathless
patter song … performers should observe
the composer’s Allegretto, a
marking that suggests a certain élan
while avoiding a demented gabble".
Would he consider Nathalie Stutzmann’s
performance (on RCA) a "demented
gabble", or would he recognize
a performer ready to take risks, willing
to go near the top but not (to my ears)
quite over it? Maybe he would not, for
in that case he would have to admit
that Dame Felicity is here sedate if
not actually genteel.
In the brief cycle
"Poème d’un jour" and
in the exquisite masterpiece "Nell",
by comparing the Stutzmann versions
with those here, we can hear two different
approaches to the composer at work.
Both Ainsley and Fouchécourt
are refined, elegant and sensitive.
Stutzmann and her pianist, Catherine
Collard – French musicians born and
bred – are more fulsome, more obviously
engaged. They reveal Fauré as
a composer of flesh and blood, they
sing him. You’d better try to
decide, from my description, which view
you will prefer – but Stutzmann has
only recorded 27 of the songs.
Another question is
that of transpositions. Johnson carefully
documents the original keys and the
keys used. I’ve already raised this
point in connection with Helmut Deutsch’s
Brahms cycle. It is perfectly natural,
when one singer gives a recital of songs
by a given composer, that they should
be transposed into the key suited to
his or her voice. The pianist then does
his best to prevent the piano part from
sounding grumpy (if transposed down)
or tinny (if transposed up). But if
you are going to call on a roster of
singers for a complete edition, why
ever not call on the singer who is able
to do each song as written? It does
affect the piano part – imagine
a performance of Chopin’s preludes with
most of the pieces transposed into different
keys.
And finally, since
obviously this is a day when I got out
of bed the wrong side, it’s an intriguing
idea to have the two Shylock songs set
into context with arrangements of the
orchestral movements by Boëllmann,
but in all truth only the last movement
is effective in this form. It is only
too obvious that the others were conceived
with orchestral sonorities in mind.
So, to conclude, there
is no doubt that Fauré is an
important song-writer who deserves a
complete edition; this particular pilgrimage
appears to be the fourth, its predecessors
being Gérard Souzay and Elly
Ameling with Dalton Baldwin (EMI), Sarah
Walker and Tom Krause with Malcolm Martineau
(CRD) and Nathalie Dessay, Béatrice
Uria-Monzon, Jean-Paul Houchécourt
and Françoix Le Roux with Jeff
Cohen (REM). It has all the cards on
the table to be a classic version, yet
I wonder if the form of presentation
chosen will not be to its disadvantage.
Still, if you buy all four discs you
can group the songs any way you like.
But hear Stutzmann as well, just as
a reminder that there is another way
of performing this music.
As usual, Hyperion
give very detailed notes, texts with
English translations and a fine recording.
Christopher Howell
John Mark Ainsley (tenor) (1), Stephen Varcoe
(baritone) (2), Jean-Paul Fouchécourt
(tenor) (3), Dame Felicity Lott (soprano) (4),
Christopher Maltman (baritone) (5), Jennifer
Smith (soprano) (6), Graham Johnson (piano),
with Ronan O’Hora (piano) (7) 
