Schubert, Wolf, Warlock, Debussy, Duparc: Christopher Maltman (baritone) Julius Drake (piano) Wigmore Hall, London. 16. 6. 2007 (ME)

 

On the day of the finals of the Cardiff Singer of the World competition, of which Christopher Maltman won the ‘consolation prize’ but, absurdly, not the title just ten years ago, it’s a pleasure to be able to write that this was the best Liederabend I’ve attended in a very long time. Despite battling with a throat infection, Maltman’s performance was the model of what Lieder singing is all about – a finely conceived programme, delivered with intelligence and sensitivity, a most engaging sense of communication with the audience – and not a single score in sight, either propped in front or secreted in the piano lid: this man knows his music, in every sense of that phrase.

Warlock’s ‘The Singer’ is a wonderful opening for a recital, those extravagant sentiments so neatly echoed by the piano’s rippling melody – Maltman eschewed Edwardian parlour-phrasing here and in the following ‘Late summer’ in favour of a more ‘modern,’ angular style which nevertheless brought out the touching elements in the songs, especially at ‘More sweetness than the sense can bear’ in the latter song. ‘The fox’ and ‘Captain Stratton’s Fancy’ represent two opposing sides of Warlock’s style, and Maltman and Drake were eloquent in both, relishing the sardonic edge of ‘The fox’ and the rollicking fun of the group’s final song: a most satisfying first set.

I was less convinced by the Debussy and Duparc which followed, partly because I feel that Maltman’s tone as yet lacks that final languorous edge so desirable in these works, partly because to my ears this music is best sung by a soprano or a tenor (it’s so insubstantial, perhaps, that it can’t bear the weight of a heavier voice – and yes, I do know the performances  of these works by ‘greats’ such as Souzay) Drake’s piano however supplied much of the voluptuous quality needed in ‘L’ invitation au voyage,’ and ‘Phidylé’ was by far the most successful of these songs, the long, soft lines of ‘Repose, ô Phidylé’ posing no problems for Maltman’s elegant phrasing, and the exquisite postlude revealing yet again that Drake has few if any equals when it comes to sensitivity.

The Schubert and Wolf of the second half provided some of the most satisfying, intelligent and simply beautiful singing I’ve heard in a long time. The opening song ‘Der Wanderer’ was interpretation at the Fischer-Dieskau or Goerne level: most certainly, I don’t know of any other singer of any nationality – certainly none of the plethora of current mediocre German baritones – who sings this with greater authority, poignancy or indeed more exact German diction. The lines ‘Ich wandle still, bin wenig froh’ and ‘Ich bin ein Fremdling überall’were models of poignant tone, eloquent phrasing and evocative word-pointing, and the central stanza, ‘Wo bist du, mein geliebtes Land!’ was heartbreaking in its understated intensity. If ‘Totengräbers Heimweh’ was not quite so successful this was only due to the singer’s indisposition causing some trouble with those very taxing high notes in the final stanza: otherwise, this was still remarkable singing, ‘O Tod! Komm und drücke / Die Augen mir zu’ as powerfully intense as any lines I’ve ever heard, the ecstatic closing phrases wonderfully rising into the auditorium.

The Wolf set was a superb selection from amongst the very greatest masterpieces of the Lied, and it was full of fine things. ‘An die Geliebte’ is one of those lovely songs which is so hard to bring off successfully: in its intimacy, its almost ‘too – much’ worship of the beloved and its exquisitely difficult piano part, it contains most of the challenges of the genre, and all of them were superbly met – any accompanist who can sustain those left-hand syncopations as Drake did here, any singer who can deliver that final line in one effortless-seeming arch of sound, has to deserve the highest praise – not to mention the exactness of the diction there, the often-lost ‘kniee’ and ‘lauschen’ positively savoured so that you had to remind yourself that this is an English singer and not a native German speaker.

Wolf famously said of ‘Fussreise’ that after hearing it, ‘you can have only one wish – which is to die,’ and whilst this performance of it might not quite have that effect, it was certainly stunning, the sheer exhilaration of the traveller’s mood superbly conveyed in both the exactly judged singing and the joyous accompaniment. The perfect frame for the recital was completed with ‘Der Rattenfänger’ – Warlock’s singer having opened the evening with the reminder that such is the power of a great voice that ‘the listener feels the room no more / But only music there,’ Wolf’s far more enigmatic captivator tells us that no matter who or what we are, we all succumb to ‘Zaubersaiten und Gesäng.’ Flanders and Swann’s ‘Misalliance’ was a delightful coda to this superb recital, which was recorded for the ‘Wigmore Hall Live’ series – one to look forward to, and most highly recommended. 

 

Melanie Eskenazi