Sunday February 27, 2011, 3 p.m., Symphony Hall, Boston, Massachusetts
Program:
Fauré
Automne
Sylvie
Après un Rêve
Fleur Jetée
Taneyev
Lyudi spyat (People Sleep) Op. 17, No. 10
Menuet Op. 26, No. 9
Zimnii put (The Winter Road) Op. 32, No. 4
Stalaktity (Stalactites) Op. 26, No. 6
Byotsa serdce bespokoinoye (The Restless Heart is Beating) Op.17, No.9
Liszt
I’ vidi in terra angelici costumi (from Tre Sonetti di Petrarca)
Pace non trovo (from Tre Sonetti di Petrarca)
Tchaikovsky
6 Romances, Op. 73
1. My sideli s toboi (We Sat Together)
2. Noch (Night)
3. V etu lunnuyu noch (In This Moonlit Night)
4. Zakatilos solnce (The Sun Has Set)
5. Sred mrachnyh dney (Amid Sombre Days)
6. Snova, kak prezhde, odin… (Again, As Before, Alone)
Encores
“Credo in un Dio crudel” from Verdi’s Otello
And a song that I would not be able to identify.
I attended a recital by Russian baritone Dmitri Hvorostovsky this afternoon at Symphony Hall in Boston. I guess that at least 15% of the seats were empty, but still the audience numbered far more than would have filled the smaller Jordan Hall. There may have been more Russians than Americans in the audience. The audience seemed to me to be well-behaved at all times.
Mr. Hvorostovsky wore a black single-breasted frock coat with spangled or sequined lapels, a black shirt, narrow-leg black trousers, and black shoes. His white hair is a little long for somebody of his age. Although he is capable of looking quite good, the effect of the outfit was to make him look a little silly, as if he were dressed to play a magician in an opera or ballet. I can accept the idea of a frock coat for an afternoon recital, but I see no need for sequins on the lapels, and the trousers would have looked better if less narrow.
The program began with four songs of Gabriel Fauré. Hvorostovsky’s French is not quite good enough for him to be singing French songs in recitals. It sounded at times almost as if he were singing Russian. He really brought very little to the songs in the way of interpretation, and there was nothing especially pleasant about the sound of his voice, and so I wondered why he chose those songs.
There followed five songs by Sergei Taneyev, a Russian composer who lived from 1856 to 1915. The singing was not bad, and the piano accompaniment was quite good, but the songs made little impression on me. I have no understanding of the Russian language, and the songs may have made more impression on those who do.
After the intermission came two songs of Franz Liszt in Italian. The songs are somewhat operatic, and Hvorostovsky seemed to be hitting his stride somewhat with these songs. He is by nature more of an opera singer than a song recitalist.
The program concluded with six songs of Tchaikovsky. They were more interesting musically than the Taneyev songs, and it was easier for me to appreciate them.
Throughout the performance Hvorostovsky occasionally looked at sheet music on a music stand about four feet in front of him. He must be somewhat far-sighted. A song recital always seems at least slightly diminished when it appears that the singer has not committed everything to memory.
The first encore, Iago’s “Credo in un Dio crudel” from Verdi’s Otello was the high point of the afternoon. Hvorostovsky ended it with a fiendish laugh, as if he relished playing an evil character. I was reminded of the character he played in the “Toi et moi” video.
The second encore was a song that I would not be able to identify. (UPDATE: The Boston Globe‘s review says that the second encore was Rachmaninoff’s “In the Silence of the Night’.”)
On the whole, I enjoyed the recital, but not enough that I would go to another one of his recitals in future.
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Some of the songs of Schubert that Simon Keenlyside will be singing at Alice Tully Hall in New York on March 13:
Der Tod und das Mädchen
Das Mädchen:
“Vorüber! ach, vorüber!
Geh, wilder Knochenmann!
Ich bin noch jung, geh, Lieber!
Und rühre mich nicht an.”
Der Tod:
“Gib deine Hand, du schön und zart Gebild’,
Bin Freund und komme nicht zu strafen.
Sei gutes Muts! Ich bin nicht wild,
Sollst sanft in meinen Armen schlafen.”
Franz Schubert (1797 – 1828)
Der Einsame D 800
Fritz Wunderlich, Tenor
Hubert Giesen, Klavier
Wann meine Grillen schwirren,
Bei Nacht, am spät erwärmten Herd,
Dann sitz ich mit vergnügtem Sinn
Vertraulich zu der Flamme hin,
So leicht, so unbeschwert.
Ein trautes, stilles Stündchen
Bleibt man noch gern am Feuer wach,
Man schürt, wann sich die Lohe senkt,
Die Funken auf und sinnt und denkt:
Nun abermal ein Tag!
Was Liebes oder Leides
Sein Lauf für uns dahergebracht,
Es geht noch einmal durch den Sinn;
Allein das Böse wirft man hin,
Es störe nicht die Nacht.
Zu einem frohen Traume
Bereitet man gemacht sich zu,
Wann sorgenlos ein holdes Bild
Mit sanfter Lust die Seele füllt,
Ergibt man sich der Ruh.
O wie ich mir gefalle
In meiner stillen Ländlichkeit!
Was in dem Schwarm der lauten Welt
Das irre Herz gefesselt hält,
Gibt nicht Zufriedenheit.
Zirpt immer, liebe Heimchen
In meiner Klause eng und klein.
Ich duld’ euch gern: ihr stört mich nicht
Wann euer Lied das Schweigen bricht
Bin ich nicht ganz allein.
Karl Gottlieb Lappe (1773 – 1843)
Franz Schubert: “Ganymed” (DV 544). Lyrics by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. Sung by Bo Skovhus at a recital in 1993.
Picture: Ganymed by Christian Wilhelm Allers.
Lyrics:
Wie im Morgenglanze
Du rings mich anglühst,
Frühling, Geliebter!
Mit tausendfacher Liebeswonne
Sich an mein Herz drängt
Deiner ewigen Wärme
Heilig Gefühl,
Unendliche Schöne!
Dass ich dich fassen möcht
In diesen Arm!
Ach, an deinem Busen
Lieg ich, schmachte,
Und deine Blumen, dein Gras
Drängen sich an mein Herz.
Du kühlst den brennenden
Durst meines Busens,
Lieblicher Morgenwind!
Ruft drein die Nachtigall
Liebend nach mir aus dem Nebeltal.
Ich komm, ich komme!
Wohin? Ach, wohin?
Hinauf! Hinauf strebts!
Es schweben die Wolken
Abwärts, die Wolken
Neigen sich der sehnenden Liebe.
Mir! Mir!
In euerem Schosse
Aufwärts!
Umfangend umfangen!
Aufwärts an deinen Busen,
Alliebender Vater!
Franz Schubert (1797 – 1828)
An mein Klavier D 342
Massimo Crispi, Tenor
Antonio Ballista, Piano
Sanftes Klavier,
Welche Entzückungen schaffest du mir,
Sanftes Klavier!
Wenn sich die Schönen
Tändelnd verwöhnen,
Weih’ ich mich dir,
Liebes Klavier!
Bin ich allein,
Hauch’ ich dir meine Empfindungen ein,
Himmlisch und rein.
Unschuld im Spiele,
Tugendgefühle,
Sprechen aus dir,
Trautes Klavier!
Sing’ ich dazu,
Goldener Flügel, welch’ himmlische Ruh’
Lispelst mir du!
Tränen der Freude
Netzen die Saite!
Silberner Klang
Trägt den Gesang.
Sanftes Klavier,
Welche Entzückungen schaffest du mir,
Goldnes Klavier!
Wenn mich im Leben
Sorgen umschweben,
Töne du mir,
Trautes Klavier!