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musicOMH,25 October 2011 |
by Melanie Eskenazi |
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Konzert, London, Royal Festival Hall, 24. Oktober 2011 |
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Kaufmann/RPO/Rieder
@ Royal Festival Hall, London, 24 October 2011
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It’s a very long way, musically speaking, from full-blown verismo to
Wagnerian narrative, but no other tenor, active or archived, makes the
journey as convincingly as Jonas Kaufmann. ‘L’improvviso’ from Andrea
Chénier needs not only ringing high B flats: it should be persuasive rather
than hectoring, impassioned rather than overblown – all this and more
Kaufmann achieved here. He sang it with a fervour which swept you away on
the poet’s indignant passion rather than battering the life out of it; even
Corelli did not grab you with such urgency at ‘Non cognosiete amor’ – and
coming from me, that’s saying something.
The ‘Gralserzählung’ from
Lohengrin was equally powerful in an entirely different way. Kaufmann’s
special quality, one he shares with other truly great singers, is his
mastery of quiet, intimate narrative, voiced with such intensity that it
creates an astonishing sense of anticipation for each word. It’s almost a
truism to say that this is the art of the Lieder singer, but only someone so
gifted in recital could give lines like ‘so kostbar, als auf Erden nichts
bekannt’ such poignancy. As for ‘Vom Gral ward ich zu euch daher gesandt’
with its eloquent determination, and the hushed fervour of ‘Taube’ – you
could almost hear the intaken breath of thousands.
Kaufmann’s singing
of his opening aria, ‘Cielo e Mar’ was easily the equal – dare I say, the
superior – of Caruso’s. Please feel free to line up for your pot shot – I
can take it. From the superbly confident voicing of that cruelly exposed
first phrase, to the exquisite mesa di voce on the final high B flat, this
was great singing by anyone’s measure. This combination of dramatic power,
incisive diction, tremulous sensitivity and even emission of beautiful tone
were also evident in the ‘Flower Song’ – excellent French – and a
mesmerizing ‘Winterstürme.’
The evening was infested with the swathes
of orchestral nicky-nacky-noo which usually bedevil this sort of concert –
even, can you believe it – the ‘Dance of the Hours’ being trotted out. There
was no need for these pieces, if the aim was to showcase the RPO under
Jochen Rieder, since he directed them to accompany the singer with
sensitivity and finesse, especially in Wagner.
One could amuse
oneself during these interludes by attempting to make sense of the
programme, so badly written that it was grimly funny. Did you know, for
example, that there is a composer called Brahm? Or that Enzo in ‘La
Gioconda’ is Laura’s mother? Or that ‘Winterstürme’ is a duet? Or that this
evening was Kaufmann’s UK debut on the concert platform? (Not) Or that
Siegmund and Sieglinde “unwittingly” commit incest? I’d say that what the
music tells us in the closing bars of Act I of Walküre is just about as
‘witting’ as it comes. May the blood of the Wälsungs flow!
Of the
four encores demanded by a vociferous audience, the most remarkable was
‘Vesti la giubba’ – is there anything that this man cannot sing with more
gut-wrenching abandon, more heart-wringing anguish and yet more telling
subtlety than any other tenor? Now that someone seems to have introduced him
to a razor, he’s looking good, too, despite the drool-inducing braces. One
can only hope that the ROH will try to persuade him to add – well, anything
– to what he’s already sung there, but Lohengrin and Bacchus would be ideal.
He has it all.
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