Always accept sweets from strangers... 
          well, at the Wigmore Hall, anyway, and when the stranger in question 
          is a charming pianist about to play there in two weeks’ time: it’s not 
          often that someone introduces themselves to you in this august little 
          space, since most regulars are part of the furniture and would rather 
          chat amongst their own coterie, and this little interlude was nicely 
          illustrative of the informal atmosphere which prevailed at this curious 
          concert. The programme was an oddity in both senses: the title of ‘Town 
          and Country’ encouraged you to imagine a Graham Johnson-type evening, 
          when that was not really on offer, and the actual booklet itself was 
          a rather amateurish affair without a formal listing of works, these 
          being given with the notes. No matter: unconventional in style it may 
          have been, but the evening allowed us to hear three of today’s rising 
          stars in a varied repertoire which genuinely did have something for 
          everyone. 
        
        I have previously remarked on 
          Emma Bell’s scrupulous musicality and the haunting beauty of her tone 
          (in a review of her performance as Rodelinda with William Christie early 
          in 2002) and to these qualities she has now added a very confident stage 
          presence and a striking variety of timbre, rendering her voice far more 
          individual than I had previously thought it. Mozart’s ‘L’amerò, 
          sarò costante’ is ideal to display the dramatic edge to her tone 
          as well as her skilful control of line, and she was beautifully accompanied 
          by Andrew West, whose arrangement of the orchestration was played, and 
          Jane Peters, who gave as lovely an account of the violin obbligato as 
          I’ve heard.
        
        The Mozart was presumably the 
          ‘country’ part of the evening’s vocal segment, since the groups which 
          followed were all urban, if not urbane, in subject matter and style. 
          Ives’ ‘Memories’ has that appealing directness which singles him out, 
          and Bell sang these pieces with real panache. Poulenc is believed to 
          have said that the Jardin du Luxembourg was ‘the only countryside that 
          I like’ and that he approached anything that concerns Paris ‘with tears 
          in my eyes and my head full of music,’ and his brittle, café-culture 
          style is heard to perfection in ‘Voyage à Paris’ and ‘Montparnasse,’ 
          both of which were sung with fluency of line if not absolutely perfect 
          diction.
        
        Walton’s ‘A Song for the Lord 
          Mayor’s Table’ is to me the least appealing of his works, since the 
          juxtapositions of high and low life don’t quite ring true, to my ears, 
          and only ‘Holy Thursday’ reveals the composer of ‘Anon in Love.’ Perhaps 
          this is partly due to the greatness of Blake’s poem, but in this piece 
          the vocal line is so finely constructed as to make it sound effortless 
          to sing, which it surely cannot be, and Emma Bell gave it every possible 
          expressive nuance, especially in the closing ‘ Then cherish pity, lest 
          you drive an angel from your door.’ 
        
        Andrew West is one of the most 
          intuitively sympathetic accompanists around: I have heard him play for 
          Mark Padmore and Christopher Maltman and been impressed by the sensitivity 
          without undue reticence which characterizes his playing, and on this 
          occasion he began the recital with two pieces which showed that he has 
          the necessary individuality and showmanship for a parallel solo career. 
          There were times during Beethoven’s Op. 28 Piano Sonata when he was 
          a bit heavy on the pedal, but he gave the Andante the gravity and dignity 
          it requires, and he collaborated with Jane Peters most eloquently in 
          Schubert’s Fantasy in C (D. 934). This wonderful work (described in 
          the notes – presumably by the pianist – as ‘something of an oddity’ 
          although I have never regarded it as such) is the ideal introduction 
          to Schubert’s chamber music for those who know him only through the 
          songs, since its most noticeable characteristic is its extended variations 
          on ‘Sei mir gegrüsst’ and Jane Peters played those solemn, arching 
          phrases (O du entrissne mir, und meinen kusse…) with real beauty of 
          tone and sweetness of intonation, despite a little awkwardness in the 
          approach to a couple of phrases. It’s probably not too much to hope 
          that one or two of the younger-than-usual audience might be inspired 
          to explore further in the music of both Schubert and the other composers 
          featured in this enterprising recital.
         
        Melanie Eskenazi