Handel, Haydn, Mozart: Andreas Scholl (counter-tenor)
Markus Markl (harpsichord, fortepiano) ‘Song on
the South Bank’ series, Queen Elizabeth Hall, Sunday
11.6. 2006 (M E)
The ‘Song on the South Bank’ series seems
to be developing into a platform for intriguingly different
recitals – first Matthias Goerne singing Schumann
and Wagner cycles usually sung by a woman, and now Andreas
Scholl offering a fascinating programme in which he and
his brilliantly virtuosic accompanist Markus Markl traced
the development of the solo cantata from Handel via Haydn
to Mozart. The hall was, of course, packed – Scholl’s
winning of the ‘Classical Brit Singer of the Year’
award for his CD Arias for Senesino may have introduced
this voice, unquestionably one of the great half dozen
or so of our time, to a wider public, but his name has
always guaranteed a sell-out, and this evening provided
ample evidence as to why.
Vendendo amor tells the classic tale of the secular
cantata, in which the youth is unwittingly snared by Love:
Scholl presented his characterization of the speaker as
though he were on the operatic stage, with all the drama
coming from his voice and intensely expressive gestures.
From the deceptively idyllic setting’s mellifluous
description of the ‘bosco ombroso’ on such
a ‘notte fredda e scura’ (a shady wood, on
a cool and dark night) through the vivid depiction of
the moment when Love struck and the sudden outcry of ‘io
canto per amor, ma più per rabbia’ (I sing
for love, but more for rage!) this was performance art
of the very highest order. The Chaconne in G which followed
it showed Markl as an equally impressive interpreter,
especially in the almost frighteningly difficult final
variations.
Lungi da me, pensieri tiranno follows the conventional
pattern of three contrasting arias evoking the lover’s
changing moods, from minor key anxiety through despair
and finally an ecstatic minuet: no one could have asked
for finer singing throughout, but in the wonderful ‘Clori
amato, adorato mio nume!’ Scholl touched heights
of lyric grace which left the audience awed in admiration
despite the boiler-room heat in the hall.
Whilst the first half might be described as conventional,
the recital’s second part took us into different
territory with Haydn’s settings of some of Anne
Hunter’s melancholy poems. It’s not completely
absurd to think of these as the precursors of ‘Winterreise’
in their elemental sadness, although on this occasion
they received a far less ‘Lieder-ish’ performance
than they are usually given. Scholl and Markl see them
as dramatic cantatas in a direct line from Handel as well
as the precursors of Mozart and Schubert, and it was fascinating
to hear a song like ‘Despair’ given so dramatic
a performance.
Mozart’s D minor Fantasia followed, in an astonishing
display of fortepiano playing: the ruminative Andante,
the tempestuous Adagio and most of all the brilliant Allegretto
were given with breathtaking skill and an air of such
ease in execution that you wanted to stand up and cheer.
The final works provided more chances for Scholl to display
his extraordinary blend of tonal beauty, incredible virtuosity
and poetic interpretation; Ah! Spiegarti, oh Dio
is infrequently performed, with good reason, since this
little aria positively bristles with C sharps –
Scholl met its challenges with aplomb, characteristically
daring little variations even at the most taxing moments.
Finally, a truly revolutionary version of ‘Abendempfindung’
- I must have heard this song a hundred times, usually
sung as a charmingly reflective little ditty, but here
it was something else altogether: a full-blown dramatic
monologue, bringing to mind some of Schubert’s most
profound works on the theme of death, and sung with a
complete absence of preciousness. It will never sound
the same again. After this, only the perfection of ‘Verdi
Prati’ would do as an encore, and so it was –
and like the Mozart, it was sung with the kind of directness
and understated virtuosity which are the hallmarks of
this great singer’s art.
Melanie Eskenazi
