Mozart, Schubert, Kilpinen, Britten and Sibelius: Soile Isokoski (soprano) and Marita Viitasalo (piano). Wigmore Hall, London. 11.04.07 (ED)

 

We live in an age blessed with some truly great singers and Soile Isokoski is amongst the very finest of them. Now, let me expand upon that statement. This concert was, amazingly, my first live encounter with Isokoski’s art, though I needed little encouragement to go when a friend whose opinion I trust suggested that I should. The programme satisfied a need for standard repertoire whilst acknowledging the important place that music from her native Finland has in Isokoski’s career.

Mozart’s songs are, to my mind, an under-performed area of his output on the whole. Whilst great singers of yesteryear including Teresa Stich-Randall and Elisabeth Schwarzkopf gave them their due, some singers for whom they are well suited barely acknowledge the presence of these jewels. Isokoski, however, recognizes their value as a vehicle for bringing a voice gradually to optimum form at the start of a recital. But more than this, she embraced the opportunity to shape each of the trio she sang with loving care for form and shading of line. It would be thus for the entire concert, too. An Chloe brought out the warmth of her mid range with the subtle inflections of repeated phrases. Abendempfindung possessed much in the way of drama, which was underlined by Marita Viitasalo’s lively accompaniment. Un moto di gioia lightened the tone somewhat, with Isokoski relishing the fun to be had in this skittish caprice.

The quartet of Schubert songs that followed extended the high level of intelligence Isokoski and Viitasalo displayed in terms of programming and execution. Viitasalo held one’s attention with the depth of tone she gave to Im Frühling’s introduction, and later with the simplicity of her linking passages between verses, contrasting still further with a distinct change of mood that reflected the tone of Schulze’s text. Isokoski was at one with her accompanist’s approach; she displayed care for the song’s structure with her use of carefully scaled dynamics, brought home by her sensitive delivery of the closing reflective repeat.  Heiβ mich nicht reden and Nur wer die Sehnsucht kennt made for a suitable pairing in terms of their compositional tone, with Schubert in a serious mood. Yet the songs were never forced beyond natural limits or made into something they are not, but with subtlety of approach the two artists made their point. Ellens Gesang III, Schubert’s famous setting of ‘Ave Maria,’ saw the Wigmore Hall stage and the cupola which crowns it transformed to a place of stilled reverence by Isokoski’s nuanced use of text, imparted with vocal shimmer.

Four songs by Yrjö Kilpinen (1852-1959) formed the first of the evening’s forays into Finnish repertoire. Having been hailed as a successor to Hugo Wolf in the 1930’s, Kilpinen is today largely an unknown composer. If his songs – going by those presented here – are permeated with a veiled nocturnal melodrama, they are nonetheless lyrically rewarding in their writing for the voice. Illalla and Rannalta showed a liking for upward octave motifs in the piano part to emphasise points of suffocating emotion. Compositionally, Maassa marjani makaavi, written in 1948-50, proved to be more ambitious, with momentary nods towards a Brahmsian soundworld. Isokoski’s richly matured soprano floated Kilpinen’s long crescendos with ease over the demanding emotional turbulence of the accompaniment. Kilpinen’s cause could scarcely have been better served.

The intricate text of Auden’s On this Island too offers rich rewards for performers in Britten’s masterly setting. Although not their native repertoire, Isokoski and Viitasalo brought the fruits of their long-standing collaboration and understanding of each other’s abilities to bear, so that all was sympathetic and carried assured in performance. Some might have slightly wanted for less accented English than Isokoski produced, but to my mind her accent actually helped make Isokoski’s Island an individual and captivating one. Remember that Peter Pears, for one, left his imprint on Britten’s music in part as a result of his distinctive enunciation.  With piano and voice intricately intertwined to create individual tonal pictures across each of the five songs in the cycle, a distinct atmosphere was found for each. The almost neo-baroque vocal figures that end Let florid music praise! allowed for confidence in shaded passages to be felt, supported by Isokoski’s enviable technique. If the tempo of Now the leaves are falling fast worked against textual clarity for a brief moment, the song was musically delivered to show awareness of its widely arched crescendo. The Nocturne carried nobility in its phrasing and its long lines were delivered with an authority that has escaped a few native singers in my hearing over the years. As it is, plenty brought chatterish charaterisation in which relative maturity of voice and person were equally telling.

The culmination of the recital was a selection of five Sibelius songs. That Isokoski is a storyteller for whom the tale is paramount became uniquely apparent. Kaiutar highlighted the distinct placing of the voice required for this repertoire and across successive songs Isokoski and Viitasalo recalled Finland with neatly understated affection. Nowhere more so than in Under stradens granar, which is to all intents a musical saga in miniature, with its angularly atmospheric evocation of fir trees, lakes and mysterious water sprites.

Sibelius’s Var det en dröm? – Did I just dream? – must surely have brought the question to the minds of many in the audience as they left this packed recital, such was the quality and integrity of the evening from both artists. For those not fortunate enough to be there, it should be added that BBC Radio 3 recorded the recital for future broadcast, the date of which is still to be confirmed.

 

Evan Dickerson