What is a mezzo-soprano? (3) [see
What is a mezzosoprano? part (1),
(2),
(3),
(4),
(5),
(6),
(7)]
I began this survey with a discussion
of a mezzo-soprano, Magdalena Kozena, who seems to me more a pure
soprano, and continued with a disc of songs by French women composers
sung by a "mezzo-contralto",
Rebecca de Pont Davies. The rich tones of this latter singer were
extraordinarily well-suited to the sultry, languorous, fin de siècle
tone of this music, or at least to the songs chosen, for none of her
five Chaminade pieces are doubled on Anne Sofie von Otter’s disc which
shows the composer in a totally different light. Just put it straight
on at the opening "Ronde d’amour" and you will be a dull fellow
if you are not bowled over by the scintillating display of the keyboard,
or if you are not captivated at once by the way the singer goes into
her "Ahs" with a whoopee of joy. With few exceptions, the
selection here replaces fin de siècle weariness with an
upfront celebration of the belle époque.
Though we have no direct comparison with de Pont Davies,
it is illuminating to listen to the piece here which, more than any
other, one can imagine would have suited her well, "Viens! Mon
bien-aimé!". Here we begin to get an answer to the question,
"What is a mezzo-soprano?" for Otter’s lighter timbre is plangent,
infinitely modulated, with none of the heaviness, that sense of having
been dragged up from unimaginable depths, which we associate with a
contralto, and which we get from de Pont Davies.
But, if Otter is clearly not a contralto, she is equally
clearly not a soprano. For, while she delights us with her agility,
her joi de vivre and the sheer ease with which she carries her
plangent tone up to a high B flat when called for, she remains an oboe
rather than a flute. So the difference between a soprano and a mezzo-soprano
is one of timbre as much as of range. Otter does not in fact go very
low, and when she does she helps herself out with a touch of chest,
but you can hear all through her range that she is a mezzo.
More importantly for Chaminade, she is also a wonderful
interpreter, one of those rare musician who sing the music rather than
the notes. The shape and meaning of every phrase is made crystal clear
to the listener – considering that most of the songs were found and
learnt for the record I find her total absorption of them quite miraculous.
On a technical level I find it interesting how much portamento
she allows herself. It could be dangerous, but she seems to know exactly
how far she can go so her voice seems free and untrammelled; the effect
is never mannered or ungainly. Her partnership with Forsberg is also
a wonderfully vital and productive one. Don’t be misled by the charming
booklet photo (on the cover they both look like cats that have swallowed
pigeons) in which Forsberg looks like a benign absent-minded professor
and Otter has the sweet, slightly bored smile of a Meg Ryan look-alike.
He’s got fire in his fingers. (By contrast, what a sad face Chaminade
herself had, according to the photograph opposite).
The violin and two-piano pieces go with plenty of verve
too, but they do rather point up the fact that the magic of a great
artist is needed to bring this music to life. They begin so exuberantly
but after a while you have to pinch yourself to remind yourself how
much you’re enjoying it.
Still, the songs are the thing. With a rich but not
overbearing recording masterminded by Andrew Keener, texts and translations
(interlaced with nice photos of the often very decorative covers of
the original editions of the music) and detailed notes, you get everything
you need, though I was brought up short by reading in the English version
that in 1913 Chaminade returned to London "where Queen Victoria
regularly invited her to Windsor". I found myself wondering how
much longer the good Queen’s posthumous invitations continued and what
one had to do to obtain one, but turn to the original French and all
is revealed.
The new century is in its infancy and none of us will
be around when they start selecting "21st Century Gramophone
Classics"; but I have the idea this will be one of them. If you
enjoy it and want more, then get the de Pont Davies disc too (LORELT
LNT109). You’ll be amazed at how different the same composer can
sound.
Christopher Howell l[see
What is a mezzosoprano? part (1),
(2),
(3),
(4),
(5),
(6),
(7)]