This
is an interesting collection recorded to celebrate the centenary
of the birth of the African American poet, Langston Hughes.
Born
in Missouri, Hughes had a varied artistic life. He was one of
the leaders of the so-called ‘Harlem Renaissance’ of the late
1920s Subsequently, his political beliefs veered sharply to the
left, a move that was reflected in the style and content of his
poetry. As can be seen from this anthology, his verse inspired
many composers but, interestingly, he himself began to write lyrics
in the 1940s. Perhaps his best known effort was the piece with
which he made his breakthrough in the genre, Kurt Weill’s Street
Scene – the marvellous, evocative song Lonely House
is included here, I’m glad to see. Though his words continued
to provide inspiration for composers of art songs and concert
works Hughes’ own interests towards the end of his career lay
in the fields of jazz, blues and, eventually, gospel music.
With
the exception of Weill, the only other composer represented here
whose music I’d heard previously is William Grant Still. The music
of the remaining composers covers quite a range of styles so the
programme is nicely varied. However, it was a good idea to intersperse
the songs with recitations of a few of Hughes’ poems. It was an
inspired idea to choose the distinguished American baritone,
William Warfield as narrator. He uses his wonderfully rich, molasses
voice to marvellous effect and the wide range of colour, pitch
and pacing that he employs could only come from a singer, and
a fine one at that. Indeed, we get a snatch of his singing voice
during his reading of The Weary Blues (track 4)
The
remainder of the programme is sung by the American tenor, Darryl
Taylor. To judge by the timbre of his voice I’d say he’s relatively
young (though he has a lengthy c.v.) and I infer from his biography
that he is African American. He seems perfectly in tune with the
sentiments and style of Hughes’ ideas and he has made an adroit
choice of songs since, for the most part, they suit his fairly
light and plangent voice well. His is a pleasing sound and he
sings with commitment and sensitivity. For most of his programme
he is ably supported by the Jamaican pianist, Maria Corley.
To
be honest I don’t think that any of the composers represented
here sound like major figures. I heard nothing on this disc to
match the songs of the two American masters of the genre, Samuel
Barber and Ned Rorem. (Margaret Bonds was one of Rorem’s early
teachers.) However, there is much to entertain in the music and
most of the songs are well crafted and responsive to the texts.
I enjoyed Harry Burleigh’s largely wistful song (track 20) and
was impressed by Robert Owens’ impassioned contribution (track
2). In this latter item a long, lyrical and wide-ranging vocal
line is given urgency and impetus by a piano accompaniment that
is constantly moving. John Musto’s Litany (track 5) has
a rather intense and grave beauty and the song by Still (track
6) is pretty dramatic – this little piece is stronger in character
than the music of Still’s that I’ve previously heard. The Negro
Speaks of Rivers (track 9) is a dark, quite powerful piece
and though Florence Price’s offering is fairly conventional (track
11) it possesses an innocent and open-hearted lyricism that I
found rather appealing.
Just
over one third of the disc is given over to Dreamer, a
cycle of five Hughes poems (two more are read by the singer),
commissioned by Darryl Taylor from Eric Santos. This was, apparently,
Santos’ first composition for voice. The accompaniment is rather
unusual; as well as a piano a harp and, occasionally, a limited
amount of percussion add some colour. The first song, Sandman
(track 22) consists for the most part of long, undulating lines
for the singer against a "minimalist", pulsing accompaniment.
This song segues into the spoken Birth in which the recitation
is punctuated by occasional low chords, which give a rather spooky
effect. Bound No’th Blues (track 23) is an impassioned
blues setting for the singer against, for the most part, a pounding
piano accompaniment (the harp joins in for the slow middle section.)
To Artina (track 24) is an intense and atmospheric love
song. Down where I am (track 25) is stronger meat. Described
as a "dark tough blues" the setting lives up to that
description. Those who like modern jazz may enjoy it; I didn’t.
In particular I found the relentless, percussive piano chords
a trial and I also felt that the wordless blues improvisation
with which the singer ends the song was a gesture that didn’t
really come off. We’re back to rippling, minimalist accompaniment
for the final song, Dream Keeper.
My
view of this cycle is that it is let down by the accompaniment,
which doesn’t, to my ears, complement and enhance the singer’s
part, as it should. The harp part is really the most interesting
aspect of the accompaniment but for the most part it plays second
fiddle to a rather unimaginative piano line. Taylor sings with
real commitment and intensity, sounding as if he believes in every
note. However, in the last analysis I feel that the invention
in this work is spread rather too thinly and it’s a pity that
it occupies so much of the CD. I’m sure other listeners will respond
more positively but I doubt I shall be returning to this part
of the CD very often.
The
recorded sound is good and there’s a useful and informative note.
Naxos are usually pretty good at providing texts so I presume
that copyright issues have prevented the inclusion of texts on
this occasion. That’s a pity, for although Taylor sings very clearly
the idiom is not always straightforward, especially for non-American
listeners and the provision of texts would certainly aid appreciation.
This
is an unusual and interesting release. At the price collectors
with an interest in twentieth century musical Americana can safely
indulge their curiosity.
John
Quinn
see
also review by Jonathan
Woolf
Darryl Taylor (tenor)