RECITAL – PARIS
Chopin Polish Songs op.74 No.17 Spiew grobowny (Hymn from the Tomb)
Chopin Polish Songs op.74 No.8 Sliczny chlopiec (Handsome lad)
Bellini Composizioni da Camera Il fervido desidero Arietta
Bellini Composizioni da Camera Dolente immagine di Fille mia Arietta
Bellini Composizioni da Camera Vaga luna, che inargenti Romance
Donizetti Amor, mio nume, eccomi a’ piedituoi
Donizetti Là sedeva, sull'erton verone La Sultana
Donizetti La corrispondenza amorosa
Donizetti A mezzanotte
Rossini 8 ariette "Soirées musicales" 1. La promessa
Rossini 8 ariette "Soirées musicales" 2. Il rimprovero
Rossini 8 ariette "Soirées musicales" 3. La partenza
Rossini 8 ariette "Soirées musicales" 4. L’orgia
Rossini 8 ariette "Soirées musicales" 5. L’invito
Rossini 8 ariette "Soirées musicales" 6. La pastorella dell’Alpiondola
Rossini 8 ariette "Soirées musicales" 7. La gita in gita gondola
Rossini 8 ariette "Soirées musicales" 8. La danza
Donizetti Vivi ingrato... Quel sangue versato Roberto Devereux
Bellini Ah non credea mirarti La Sonnambula
LE MONDE
LE MONDE
UNKNOWN NEWSPAPER
The career of Leyla Gencer was so dramatic, vibrant and passionate that it took hold above all in the theatre, on stage, in costume. As a result, the “minor” genre of chamber music found itself somewhat neglected. Anyone who has sung Verdi more than any other soprano in the twentieth century, whose repertoire ranges from Monteverdi’s L’Incoronazione di Poppea to Poulenc’s Dialogues des Carmélites, who has impersonated both Donna Anna and Donna Elvira in Mozart’s Dan Giovanni, who has revived much of Donizetti’s unjustly forgotten works, but who has not ignored operas by Puccini, Cilea and Zandonai, may in fact be forgiven. Such a singer would indeed not have much time to also undertake those delightful “watercolours” which are the ariettas, canzonas and romanzas of the chamber and the salon, “painted” by the same masters of the grandiose frescos, Norma, Lucrezia Borgia and Macbeth. Yet, Leyla Gencer did just that in the last years of her career, with remarkable frequency and in numerous venues. In Paris, at the Théatre de l’Athénée on Monday, 20 October 1980, she presented a recital of music composed by her beloved Donizetti, Rossini, as well as the less common name of Chopin. The presence of this last work was due undoubtedly to the search for novelty characterized her singing, but it also provides a touch of Slavic and oriental exoticness which is to be expected in an artist born in the Turkish city of Istanbul.
From Chopin’s very limited non-pianistic output, here are four songs for voice and keyboard the characters and texts of which are quite distinct from one other. But this does not frighten the artistic sensibility of Leyla Gencer. In Il Desiderio, her voice is low and austere, perfectly suited to the music. In Il Baccanale, she unleashes a playful folk-like tone which borders on the distracted and the eccentric. Cadono le foglie step the tragic Russian invasion of Poland, and Gencer’s voice takes on nuances of gloom sagaciously drawn from her experiences with Verdi. Finally, in Il bel giovanotto, she returns to the folk element, confirming her versatility not least because of her excellent Polish pronunciation.
Bellini was present in Gencer’s repertoire in Beatrice di Tenda, unlike Callas and Caballé (both of whom, however, had sung Il Pirata, which Gencer had not), and especially in Norma, in keeping with her predilection for bel canto and her passion for neo-classical and Romantic music. Yet the chamber ariettas-few in number, precious, brief, exquisitely crafted and melodically ineffable-represent an entirely different kind of vocal music; limpid and linear, with just the right amount of embellishment, set in a central tessitura, often melancholic and at times brilliant. With her notoriously opaque and if she immediately emphasizes of “Dolente imagine”, she skilfully accentuates their vivacity. See, for example, the entire “Vaga luna” (here as elsewhere at a faster tempo than the indicated “Andante cantabile”), and in particular the crescendo-diminuendo (“conta I palpiti e I sospir”). She does not overindulge in pianos (see the beginning of “Quando verra quel di”), and the messa di voce called for shortly afterwards on “desia” and at the end of “mia” are limited to an efficacious smorzando. Her pronunciation is noteworthy, especially on the palatal “c” (“cencre”, “pace”) and “g” (“giuri”, “linguaggio”), and truly remarkable at repeated words, where her feeling for invention, phrasing, rallentando and rubato are the stuff of a great interpreter (her “E’ inestinguibile / l’antico ardor” is marvellous).
The singing of Gencer and the operas of Donizetti: this artistic relationship was a vivid episode in twentieth-century opera history from the mid-1950s to the end of the l970s. In terms of sheer quantity, Gencer’s record is rivalled only by that of Caballé (certainly not by Callas, who unfortunately played only Lucia di Lammermoor and Anna Bolena). It was thus foreseeable that Gencer should also frequent Donizetti’s chamber production, an immense and uneven reservoir of music (unlike the limited chamber production of Bellini) full of pleasant discoveries and rewards. Here then, from the Paris concert, is La sultana, an aria which tells a tale and thus might be called a ballad. Gencer, with her enormous operatic experience, has never had problems telling stories, acting out scenes, impersonating characters. In breathing life into this little Turkish tale, she very probably turned to her own origins, refreshing them with a healthy dose of humour. The piece begins with the phrase “La sedevam sull’erto verone” “Larghetto cantabile”, she energetically attacks the recitative, and then shines in the more pastoral and evocative passages (“e dal colle, lontano, lontano”). She concludes (after significant cuts in the score) with rarefied expressive sweetness as she sings “é piu bella del ciel”, respecting to the letter the “rallentando” indicated by Donizetti himself.
La corrispondenza amorosa, too, takes advantage of dynamic games skilfully executed by Gencer, but there are two expressive aspects worthy of mention. The first concerns accents, here more vigorous than is usual (in chamber music) thanks to the enunciation of the consonants. The second is the piano employed at the ritornello “Brulez! Brulez! Gages d’amour”, which does not stop after the first three notes (unaccompanied) but extends to the fourth. At this C (the dominant), Gencer avoids a sudden swell, thereby confirming her chosen sonority and gracing her interpretation with an insightful sense of measure (and, it may be said, of modesty). There is no questioning the brilliance of A mezzanotte, an arietta dedicated to the great tenor Giambattista Rubini. The work is neither comical, nor serious, nor semi-serious, nor buffo: it is merely gallant, witty, flirtatious, entirely woven around repeated notes and staccatos, with trochaic rhythms (a note plus half its value) and rests. Gencer, unaccustomed to comic opera, nonetheless immediately grasps fully the sense of the song, and she performs it whole-heartedly, murmuring, sighing, smiling, and recreating the authentic atmosphere of the salon.
Rossini is a different case. This serious dramaturge received the attentions of the great prima donnas of the twentieth century, though more in terms of quality and then of quantity. Callas impersonated only Armida, Sutherland only Semiramide, while Caballé performed Elisabetta regina d’Inghillterra and La donna del lago (as well as Semiramide and Gugliaume Tell). Gencer portrayed Matilde from Gugliaume Tell in Naples and in the title role of Elisabetta regina d’Inghilterra in Palermo, well prepared for this repertoire by her experiences with the earlier music of Rubini and Spontini. These ladies sang little or nothing from Rossini’s comic operas and their approach to his chamber works was also extremely limited. Yet the Soirées musicales, usually favoured by lyric or light sopranos, nonetheless also captured the interest of Leyla Gencer, a singer more at home with the great tragedies of Verdi (alongside those of Donizetti). La promessa is perhaps the moment in the concert of greatest vocal clarity, of greatest exactness in regard to the score. A minute chisel, so to speak, which sculpts in particular the liquid and translucent double appoggiaturas. Il rimprovero, appropriately named, is painted in a more serious shade. Indeed, Gencer attempts to smooth out all of the embellishments and passage-work. Yet her exclamation “crudel” seems almost addressed to the treacherous Pollione from Norma, and when she ends with a negation, her brief and imperious “no” is worthy of Antonina from Donizetti’s Belisario. The almost declamatory opening of La partenza is emphasized, but not at the expense of the arduous coloratura which follows, itself designed with a touch wholly reminiscent of bel canto. The frivolous sense of L’orgia which strikes one at first glance might seem unsuitable to Gencer’s expressive urgency, and she leaves off the long trill called for at the word “cantiam”. At the end, however, she intentionally imbues the arietta with a particular air of clumsiness, as if the character were actually swaying-indeed dancing and tottering-under the inebriating effects of Bacchus and Cupid. The La pastorella delle Alpi, too, exudes humour in Gencer’s interpretation, despite the occasional forte explosion (balanced by the occasional pianos response), where the ascending arpeggios and staccatos almost seem to issue forth from Olimpia in Les Contes d’Hoffmann. La gita in gondola is a barcarole, but it is more than that. Gencer fully proves this as she elides, lengthens and loosens the phrases in order to do justice to such a complex composition. Built upon a solid structure, this work is fundamentally more serious than comic (only the beginning employs the indicative form of the verb rather than the conjunctive: “the agile boat flies” rather than “may the agile boat fly”). La danza also seems foreign to Gencer’s expressive world, and yet it easily fits in, thanks not only to her arch-noted versatility and her intellective lucidity which is sorely lacking in sopranos gifted with perhaps more solid vocal fibre. Above all, it is her devilish tone of voice, folk-like, untidy, Dionysian, which marks the consonants and is ever on the alert, ever trembling with excitement but never foolishly aristocratic.
This chamber recital closes with two war horses and an operatic rarity- all pieces which belong to grand finales from the theatre. “Al dolce guidami” (Anna Bolena) is a mad scene which is here distilled with as much technical skill as expressive intensity. “Vivi ingrato” (Roberto Devereux) is a melody bathed in tears at least as is the successive cabaletta, “Quel sangue versato”. Swollen with fury and folly, of Gencer it receives the same depth of sentiment as the other aria (but also greater equilibrium of sound). “Ah non credea mirarti” La Sonnambula) is one of the most sublime melodies of the Italian Romantic period. Gencer confers upon it a mood of dark sorrow which is completely unknown by the majority of traditional performers.
Recording Excerpts
