Among the teachers
of the Belgian baritone Ernest Tilkin
Servais (1888-1961) was Richard Barthelémy
whose other pupils included Enrico Caruso,
Tito Ruffo and Mary Garden. I now have
not the slightest doubt that Tilkin
Servais belongs to this select group
and deserves the wider recognition that
posterity has cruelly denied him. A
bold claim for a name you most likely
are unfamiliar with. Truth told, it
was the same for me until a few weeks
ago when I started reading up on Meyerbeer’s
‘Les Huguenots’, in advance of attending
a performance in Liège later
this year. Tilkin Servais’ name resounded
in reviews of the performances he gave.
Following competition
victories in 1911 his career was launched,
and continued until 1945. You would
be wrong to assume that Tilkin Servais
had a career solely within Belgium.
International successes were had at
Covent Garden, in Amsterdam, Paris,
Monte Carlo and Buenos Aires, with repertoire
that included the major French and Italian
composers of the eighteenth, nineteenth
and early twentieth centuries. German
repertoire included Richard Strauss
(Der Rosenkavalier and Salome),
and all the major Wagner baritone roles.
There is no better
‘way in’ to a voice, its size, tone,
the singer’s technique, etc. than through
the Arie Antiche that Niccolo Vacchai
advocated as vocal exercises, and this
issue includes Giordano’s ‘Caro mio
ben’ (CD1, track 13). This shows Tilkin
Servais at the age of 32 in ringing
voice, expressive throughout the range.
Intending to listen
to the tracks and make instructive comparisons,
I quickly abandoned the idea and took
Tilkin Servais on his own terms. As
one contemporary notice put it, the
"big, beautiful baritone voice,
so ample, sonorous and richly coloured,
produced with an admirable technique
allows him the subtlest of nuances and
most brilliant outbursts." In forte
passages there is not the slightest
hint of hardening in the tone. Add to
this a fine sense of style throughout,
and you have a superbly formed baritone
of the old Italian school. And, yes,
despite singing in French, he is alive
to the Italian feel of the works.
The recordings date
from 1920 to 1931, the years of his
exclusive contract with HMV. What we
have here is all that is known to have
survived. The two renditions of the
prologue to I Pagliacci shows
his vocal consistency and deepening
awareness of a role. I suspect he would
have been far from a rigid, ‘stand and
deliver’ type of singer. If booklet
photographs are anything to go by, then
this image of singers of this time is
nicely countered by his superb facial
expressions as Tonio. I am prompted
to wonder what his renditions of Scarpia
and Amfortas would have been like, two
stage roles he never recorded.
The duet recordings
show Tilkin Servais’ ability to blend
his voice with that of his partner,
although Marguerite Roger is a little
unsteady of tone. The patriotic duet
from Auber’s La Muette de Portici,
said to have sparked the Belgian Revolution
for independence, and recorded on the
centenary of that event, has a special
place in the Tilkin Servais discography.
Both he and Fernand Ansseau imbue it
with feeling, significance and instill
the regret that such works have slipped
from the repertoire.
I care not one jot
about the fact that practically all
material is sung in French translations.
Most collectors will probably have a
reasonable idea of the repertoire sung,
so the lack of texts or translations
should matter little. Where the items
are unknown then the solution is simple
– admire great singing for its own sake.
Indeed, where we have it, what a joy
it is to turn to original French repertoire
so magnificently performed. It is a
pity that more of his French mélodies
on record have not survived. The Schumann,
Tchaikovsky and two Neapolitan songs
are some compensation.
Nor does the process
used to transfer recordings from 78
to CD worry me. The shellac sides were
rerecorded digitally as they were played.
As most tracks last no longer than one
side on 78 original there is no issue
with matching tunings, speeds, etc.
to mask the side breaks. Background
interference is minimal and, where present,
adds to the atmosphere of listening
to period recordings. The voice is always
forward, and only in the early recordings
does the accompaniment sound like a
rusty squeezebox.
Thank God for independent
companies that bring artists from ages
past to our attention, supported with
excellent documentation. Frederic Lemmers’
booklet note is an insightful model
of its kind. Tilkin Servais emerges
as the vocal equal of Tito Gobbi, and
I mean that in all seriousness. Without
hesitation, a seminal release to be
urgently acquired by anyone with a passion
for the best singing from any age.
Evan Dickerson
Ernest Tilkin Servais (baritone) with anonymous
orchestras and 
