Wigmore Live: Matthew Polenzani & Julius Drake (CD)
Songs by Schubert, Beethoven, Britten and Hahn
Performers
Matthew Polenzani (tenor)
Julius Drake (piano)
Released 24 Oct 2011
Label: Wigmore Hall Live
Recorded: 01 May 2010
Number of Discs: 1
Total time: 76.09
ASIN: B005IY3CPI
Track listing
Franz Schubert
- 01 Im Frühling – 04.47
- 02 Fischerweise – 03.08
- 03 Der Einsame – 04.25
- 04 Nachtstück – 05.23
- 05 An Silvia – 03.17
Ludwig van Beethoven An die ferne Geliebte, Op. 96
- 06 Auf dem Hügel sitz ich spähend – 02.35
- 07 Wo die Berge so blau – 01.51
- 08 Leichte Segler in den Höhen – 01.45
- 09 Diese Wolken in den Höhen – 00.58
- 10 Es kehret der Maien, es blühet die Au – 02.53
- 11 Nimm sie hin denn, diese Lieder – 04.51
Benjamin Britten: Seven Sonnets of Michelangelo, Op. 22
- 12 Si come nella penna (Sonnet XVI) – 02.05
- 13 A che più debb’io mai (Sonnet XXXI) – 01.28
- 14 Veggio co’bei vostri occhi (Sonnet XXX) – 03.36
- 15 Tu sa’, ch’io so (Sonnet LV) – 01.49
- 16 Rendete agli occhi miei (Sonnet XXXVIII) – 01.57
- 17 S’un casto amor (Sonnet XXXII) – 01.15
- 18 Spirto ben nato (Sonnet XXIV) – 05.29
Reynaldo Hahn: Venezia – Chansons en dialecte Venetien
- 19 Sopra l’Acqua Indormenzada – 03.10
- 20 La Barcheta – 03.41
- 21 L’Avertimento – 01.31
- 22 La Biondina in Gondoleta – 03.47
- 23 Che Pecà! – 02.12
- 24 La Primavera – 02.42
Encore
Traditional
- 25 Danny Boy – 03.52
About this CD
Often referred to as one of the most gifted and distinguished lyric tenors of his generation, Matthew Polenzani has been praised for the artistic versatility and fresh lyricism that he brings to concert and operatic appearances on leading international stages. He has performed, among many others, opposite Renée Fleming, Anna Netrebko and Diana Damrau, and under the baton of Lorin Maazel, Pierre Boulez and Riccardo Muti.
In this, his debut Wigmore Hall recital, Polenzani brings together the works of Hahn, Beethoven, Britten and Schubert, including An die ferne Geliebte and the Seven Sonnets of Michelangelo, alongside leading piano-accompanist, Julius Drake.
Composed in April 1816, An die ferne Geliebte, opus 98, is Beethoven’s only song cycle. The title translates as To the Distant Beloved, setting verse written by Aloys Jeitteles, and is considered to be the first true song cycle by a major composer. Also appearing on the release are five examples of some of Schubert’s most-loved works, composed in the great age of song – Im Frühling, Fischerweise, Der Einsame, Nachtstück and An Sylvia.
Britten’s Seven Sonnets of Michelangelo explore the subject of immortal love, seen here through the music’s expressive gravity. The sonnets were an expression of Michelangelo’s love for the young Tommaso Cavalieri, and are given added poignancy as they are said to represent a thinly-veiled expression of Britten’s affection for Peter Pears. Finally, the album features Hahn’s album of songs, Venezia: Chansons en dialecte vénitien. Described by the composer as both “light and melancholy”, they received their premiere at an evening al fresco gathering in Venice in 1901.
What the critics say
Richard Nicholson, Classicalsource.com
Some of the best and most worthwhile recordings of recent times have emanated from ‘live labels: The Wigmore Hall series consists of much more than souvenirs, recorded to a most satisfying degree in capturing the ambience of the Hall with a feeling of intimate contact with the music-making.
Since he graduated from supporting roles, Matthew Polenzani has been gathering golden opinions in increasingly testing operatic roles and has struck up a recital partnership with Julius Drake. There are certainly no reservations about the voice: it is sweet and mellifluous, enchanting in soft singing, reedier at forte and beyond.
My doubts concern the content and shape of the programme. It gives the impression of being conservative, as if the tenor wanted to run as few risks as possible until he reached the challenges of Britten’s Michelangelo Sonnets. So he opens the recital with a Schubert group consisting of five popular songs. Of course nothing is easy (only An Sylvia seems a little off-hand) and Polenzani deploys his prize asset, his ingratiating tone, generously throughout the group. The voice can be heard still warming up, the first E flat with fermata is a little soggy, the two which follow increasingly confident, indeed the final one heavenly. Just a hint of routine is present, however, though not from Julius Drake. Im Frühling is a thoroughly subdued song, littered with pp and ppp markings, with only one mf instruction in the F minor episode and few dynamics to observe. Schubert depicts a lazy spring day. There is always a danger of falling into somnolence but Drake never allows the pace to slacken and his treatment of what is basically a set of variations maintains interest throughout. Der Einsame with its unceasing quaver accompaniment and little gruppetto figures ideally portrays the avuncular contentment of the recluse and the hushed, quasi-religious solemnity of Nachtstück makes one hold one’s breath.
At the other end of the evening Polenzani gorges himself on Hahn’s Venetian Songs; I am at a loss to explain why lyric tenors don’t sing them more often. There are the obligatory lapping waves in ‘La biondina in gondoleta’, the melody drifting over the lagoon in ‘Sopra l’acqua indormenzada’, with entertaining counterbalance coming from the mischievous wit of ‘Che peccà!’. The vocal control which Polenzani applies to them has to be admired (and audibly is by the Wigmore audience, heard for the first time in this otherwise ‘silent’ recording).
Every performance of An die ferne Geliebte seems to pose the question of the age of its subject. The poetry is certainly naïve and Beethoven’s settings are characterised by abrupt and extreme tempo changes and sudden dynamic shifts. Polenzani’s bright, boyish timbre makes me think of a rather gauche adolescent. He certainly does not avoid melodrama in, for example, the big crescendo and stringendo which ends the first song and occurs even more elaborately at the very end of the cycle. In both cases Polenzani comes perilously close to shouting. A more moderate approach to strong feelings is present in the second song, where a similar release of excitement stays the right side of vulgarity, the voice retaining its beauty. In ‘Leichte Segler in den Höhen’ Beethoven conveys a mix of boyish excitement and intense feeling, the first using rests between notes, the second uninterrupted crotchets. Unfortunately Polenzani doesn’t always distinguish between them. Elsewhere there is much to enjoy: the weightless dance of ‘Diese Wolken in den Höhen’ and the persistent mezza voce of his singing in ‘Es kehret der Maien’.
The pianist has a crucial role in An die ferne Geliebte, in which the songs follow each other without pause, the instrument being used to announce the mood of each new setting. Certainly Drake’s introduction to ‘Es kehret der Maien’ holds the listener in thrall wondering where the music will lead when the voice does finally enter. There is much more to it than that, indeed in some cases it is the very spring which powers the cycle. In the opening song, though the vocal line is virtually identical each time, the variations in the accompaniment are propelling the poet forward from inertia to positive action in bridging the gap to his beloved. The voice-less beats between each verse grow ever more urgent, the support to the melody fuller up to the decisive block-chords in verse four which announce the solution to his frustration. In ‘Wo die Berge so blau’ Beethoven goes further and assigns the melody to the piano while the voice sings on a monotone.
I believe that the real-life recital also featured Liszt’s Petrarch Sonnets. Space limitations dictated the omission of something from the release and the partnership has recorded the Liszt for Hyperion. However, its loss makes the programme seem rather like an unbalanced sandwich, with two rather insipid slices of bread enclosing a highly-spiced slice of meat.
When I recently reviewed Nicholas Phan in the Michelangelo Sonnets I reported that he had not freed himself entirely from the influence of the work’s creator, Peter Pears; the idiosyncratic tone production of Britten’s partner was still to be heard, particularly around the top of the stave. Here there is not a hint of the Pears bleat. Polenzani is his own man. He applies his sweet, rounded tone to Britten’s Italianate vocal writing. Maybe he does not show quite the level of engagement with the philosophical undertones of Michelangelo’s poetry but Polenzani is much the more demonstrative interpreter. He shows his hand right from the start, emulating the power of the piano octaves, using reserves of strength in the high tessitura which had previously seemed to be well outside his comfort zone. Here and elsewhere he conveys the poet’s intensity with a delivery of the text that resembles singing through clenched teeth.
‘A che più debb’io mai l’intensa voglia’ is sung like a secret confession, with the name of the man he loves only emerging in the final phrases, concealed behind a pun on the name of Tomasso Cavalieri. ‘Veggio co’ bei vostri occhi in dolce lume’ displays the singer’s Italianate phrasing and breath control. He handles the central climax of the song with authority: his swelling tone at “Dal vostr’arbitrio son pallido e rosso” is like emerging from gloom into bright sunlight. The fast pace of ‘S’un casto amor’ is negotiated without loss of clarity in enunciating the words, a feature of Polenzani’s singing throughout the recital. Drake characterises the mood in each song with vividness.
The recital is stripped of some of its strength and impact by the omission of the Liszt. On the positive side, I have heard Danny Boy many times sung as an encore, and quite often it is overloaded with emotion. Here its sentimental message is lightly traced, much to the son’s advantage.
Drew Minter, Opera News, February 2012, Vol 76, No 8
In their live recital from Wigmore Hall, both Matthew Polenzani and Julius Drake display great poise. They evoke recitalists of past generations, unafraid to linger Lehmann- or Moore-like as the phrase strikes them. Setting out with a varied Schubert group, the duo gives a leisurely rendering of Schubert’s “Im Frühling.” Polenzani has the sovereign technique to support such lingering. Spotless in intonation at all dynamic levels, he has a particularly arresting pianissimo. This ease makes a notable pleasure of “Der Einsame,” which Polenzani sings with more than the usual gusto for solitude, while Drake’s deftly rendered pianistic crickets chirp along merrily. Schubert’s “Nachtstück” becomes a dark mini-opera when Polenzani pours on the legato in the song’s second-half aria.
Next, Polenzani and Drake give a cool reading of Beethoven’s An die Ferne Geliebte. While the cycle’s sudden sad turn at “Und Tränen sind all ihr Gewinnen” is effectively heartrending, elsewhere the pair underplays Beethoven’s frequently abrupt dynamic contrasts. This is anything but the case in Britten’s effusive Seven Sonnets of Michelangelo. The frequent stretches of high tessitura suit Polenzani’s vocal gifts to a tee. The tenor rides the high, quiet lines of the third sonnet, “Veggio co’bei vostri occhi,” with a vocal shimmer that is a voice lesson in messa di voce, while Drake supports him with the most perfectly even arpeggios to be heard on record. The effect of their collaboration here splendidly evokes the overarching yearning of these songs.
As a last set, the duo offers a fluffy group of Italian songs, which Reynaldo Hahn reportedly sang on the canals of Venice, accompanying himself on the piano in a gondola. They are what you would expect — sunny and pleasing, to be sure, but I was left wanting to hear more of the dark urgency of Polenzani and Drake’s Schubert and Britten.