This disc returns to the catalogue like a treasure from a bygone
era, and most welcome it is. It showcases a number of songs set
for the unusual combination of soprano, piano and obbligato horn.
If it sounds unusual that’s because it is, but the result is unfailingly
charming.
The repertoire here is very unusual. Familiar names
like Berlioz, Massenet and Donizetti turn up alongside a collection
of composers you’ve probably never heard of before. Each song
is very attractive in its own way: the melodic lines are simple,
and it’s fair to say that the lion’s share of the acrobatics
goes to the horn rather than the soprano - which is probably
a good thing, considering Sutherland’s age when she made this
disc! In fact there are some real fireworks from Barry Tuckwell’s
horn, especially in the Alpine songs (Panseron, Nicolai, Ploch).
In fact in the Panseron song he even goes so far as to dub himself
in playing an optional second horn part, thus duetting
with himself! It’s a testament to the integrity of the project
that one doesn’t at first notice, so much sense it makes. When
you do, it’s a marvel.
This was clearly a labour of love for Sutherland,
who made this recording at the very twilight of her career -
I wonder if it was her last ever recording? Bonynge accompanies
sensitively at the piano, even arranging some of the songs specially
for the recording. Tuckwell is a sensitive virtuoso: he never
imposes himself, but blends seamlessly and unselfconsciously
into the overall texture. The songs themselves deal with traditional
Romantic themes - hence the disc’s title - such as love, loss
and loneliness. The tone of the disc, however, is never sad:
even when expressing loss each of these songs does so with a
positive view. Most are tinged with a wistful melancholy; try
the last track on the disc for a splendid example of this. In
fact the overall tone of the disc is of valediction. Sutherland
seems almost to be looking back on a great career that she knows
is almost over, and bids us farewell by surprising us one last
time with an unusual, yet surprisingly touching recital, and
this helps to make the disc special. Yes, her voice is a mere
shadow of what it had been and there is a noticeable “beat”
in the prolonged top notes. It’s true also that her legendary
phobia of enunciation is plainly in evidence: in the Berlioz
song all consonants go into meltdown! However, with a project
in which she has clearly invested so much time and effort, who
really cares when the results are so tender?
The music may not be especially memorable, and
some may even call it trite, but this disc has all the appeal
of a cup of hot chocolate on a winter’s night. Treat yourself
and I guarantee enjoyment.
Simon Thompson
