Carnegie Hall, Zankel Auditorium, New York, USA
2 December 2007
Matthew Polenzani (tenor)
Julius Drake (piano)
Franz Schubert:
Ludwig Van Beethoven:
Franz Liszt:
Benjamin Britten:
Reynaldo Hahn:
What the critics say
Louise T. Gunther, Operanews.com. Feb 2007
On December 2, a chilly Sunday afternoon, tenor Matthew Polenzani treated an enthusiastic audience to a rich evening of song at New York’s Rose Theater. The program opened with a Schubert set that fell mellifluously on the ear but left the impression of songs well sung without being fully inhabited. That cavil aside, the Schubert lieder revealed a singer of great warmth and impressive technical polish: his singing combines pristine diction with effortless resonance that allows him to draw upon a wide range of dynamics and colors even in barely touching a note. He has an unerring instinct for shaping an expressive musical line. He projected the intimate, contemplative air that suits the opening of “Der Einsame” (The Hermit), yet the undercurrent of unrest in the piano part found a subtle complement in the more febrile, intense timbre with which he invested the final verse. “Nachtstück” closed with a sense of shadowy peace, but the shadows were instantly dispersed by the contrastingly sunny opening to “An Sylvia.”
In Beethoven’s An die Ferne Geliebte, Polenzani had warmed up interpretively, moving organically from the impassioned outburst that ends “Auf dem Hügel” to the softer mode of “Wo die Berge so Blau.” The playful quality at the start of “Es kehret der Maien,” with the piano clearly depicting light breezes and babbling brooks, gave way to the wrenching pain of coming back from that springtime fantasy to the reality of winter. The tenor’s beautifully integrated rhythmic and dynamic shifts were executed in perfect communion with Julius Drake’s skillful accompaniment, singer and pianist operating as one expressive entity.
The first half’s highlight was the Lizst set, Drei Lieder aus Schillers “Wilhelm Tell.” Here, the light on the water in “Der Fischerknabe” was audible in the bright sheen of Polenzani’s tone until the ominous roilings of Drake’s accompaniment drove that peaceful, blissful sound into the almost piercing intensity of the siren call. In the central “Der Hirt,” Polenzani’s coloristic range brought the image of the earth adorned with flowers to vibrant life. But in “Der Alpenjäger,” he and Drake together stampeded the listener into an entirely different, rough-and-ready world of clarion trumpet calls and thunderous pianism before turning on a dime to sweet nostalgia to depict the warmer, gentler apparition of spring.
It was no surprise, in the first-half selections, to find Polenzani’s honeyed, plangent, youthful sound lending itself equally well to the melancholy and the ecstatic sides of romantic love. What did come as something of a surprise was how effectively he turned the same essentially sweet tone to the more sophisticated and arcane sentiments of Michelangelo and Britten in the latter’s Seven Sonnets of Michelangelo. The quality of yearning that lent poignancy to the simple, universal sentiments of the Schubert songs took on more complex shadings in this cycle that hints at homoerotic passion denied, and Polenzani’s forceful attack – notably in Sonetto XXXI, which had a defiant, almost sardonic edge – revealed a degree of depth and maturity one might not have expected from Polenzani’s previous outings on the recital stage.
Right from the first sonnet, Polenzani displayed an Italianate lilt and a sense of being in his element vocally, linguistically and even in terms of body language. By turns febrile and intense, dreamy and unearthly, urgent and hotblooded, distraught and self-possessed, Polenzani made the technical achievement of mastering these little-known pieces subordinate to the uninhibited expressiveness of his performance.
The final set, Reynaldo Hahn’s cycle Venezia, was like a light dessert after a substantial meal – effortless and deliciously seductive. Polenzani poured on the romantic charm in these overtly sensuous pieces that evoke the spirit of a gondolier’s serenade. The hint of a twinkle in his eye only added to the enchantment, and even a false start in the penultimate song did nothing to detract from the mood of luxurious sentimentality.
Polenzani’s encores for an appreciative public found him on familiar ground, offering a heartfelt, polished “Una furtiva lagrima” and a “Danny Boy” so tender as to transcend bathos.