Showing posts with label Paris. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Paris. Show all posts

RECITAL – PARIS

Athenée Theatre, Paris
29 April 1985                
LES LUNDIS MUSICAUX DE L’ATHENEE

Leyla Gencer soprano
Vincenzo Scalera piano

Vivaldi Se cerca, se dice L’Olimpiade
Vivaldi Sposa son disprezzata Bajazet
Handel Figlia mia non piangera Tamerlano
Handel O Had I Jubal's lyre Joshua
Haydn Thésée, mon bien-aimé, où es-tu? Cantata Arianna a Naxo (Hob.XXVIb/2)

Bellini Dopo l’oscuro nemo Adelson e Salvini

Donizetti Che val ricchezza e trono Alina, Regina di Golconda

Mercadante Addio felice sponde Didone Abbandonata
Meyerbeer Eccomi giunto armai Il Crociato in Egitto

Ancors
Rossini Siete Turchi, non vi credo Il Turco in Italia
Donizetti Torna all'ospite tetto...Vieni o tu, che ognor io chiamo Caterina Cornaro
Paisiello Nel cor piu non mi sento La Molinara
Donizetti A mezzanotte

 Recording date

A video recording of the concert available in a private collection


Pictures are from the Video Recording

LE MONDE                                              

1984.10.18

LE MONDE                                              

1985.04.17

MİLLİYET DAILY NEWSPAPER                                                  

1985.05.23

Recording Excerpts                         
Vivaldi Se cerca, se dice L'Olimpiade   
Vivaldi Sposa son disprezzata Bajazet                   
Handel Figlia mia non piangera Tamerlano     
Handel O Had I Jubal's lyre Joshua
Haydn Thésée, mon bien-aimé, où es-tu? Cantata Arianna a Naxo (Hob.XXVIb/2)     
Bellini Dopo l’oscuro nemo Adelson e Salvini    
Donizetti Che val ricchezza e trono Alina, Regina di Golconda
Mercadante Addio felice sponde Didone Abbandonata 
Meyerbeer Eccomi giunto armai Il Crociato in Egitto 
Rossini Siete Turchi, non vi credo Il Turco in Italia (Ancor I)
Donizetti Torna all'ospite tetto...Vieni o tu, che Caterina Cornaro (Ancor II)
Paisiello Nel cor piu non mi sento La Molinara (Ancor III)
Donizetti A mezzanotte (Ancor IV)

FROM CD BOOKLET

PARIS RECITAL 1985
DAVID ANNACHINI

This recital is intended to be the artistic tesatament of Leyla Gencer, as it goes back to one of the last concerts given by the Turkish soprano, thirty-five years after her 1950 debut in Ankara in Cavalleria Rusticana. Since that Santuzza, a lot of water had flowed under the bridge and for Giannina Arangi-Lombardi’s pupil no whim had remained unsatisfied, in spite of the fact that her agile, light vocality initially seemed to classify her among the ranks of lyric-light sopranos. In fact, Gencer didn’t seem to care about the vocal classifications, which only Maria Callas was clamorously demolishing in that period and, thanks to her exclusive technique and a very audacious character, she ventured into th most varied roles and genres. She did justice to the best-known parts, such as Butterfly, Tosca, Liu or the two Verdi Leonoras, but also tackled Violetta – where her unusual potentiality for that period was noticed - and didn’t disdain modern rarities such as Menotti’s Il Console, Rocca’s Monte Ivnor, Dialogues des Carmélites by Poulenc and L’assassinio nella cattedrale by Pizzetti, the last two of which debuted at La Scala with her. This was something more than mere versatility and was born out with her unexpected debut (replacing Callas in San Francisco) Lucia di Lammermoor in ‘57. At that time, no Tosca or Leonara (apart from Callas) could have at all imagined such a daring transformation, extricating herself from Donizetti’s virtuosities and reaching up to dizzy heights of the top E flats. This came naturally to Gencer, even if bluffed her way into the role, as she didn’t in fact know the part. And even if in endless “catalogue”, Lucia was a role she only tackled again on other two occasions, it was nevertheless what was needed to show audiences (and in fact herself as well) how her unusual vocality could be best put to use.
This resulted in Gencer being chosen as the indispensable singer for the revival of the extremely demanding operas from Verdi’s early period (I due Foscari, La Battaglio di Legnano, Jérusalem and above all Macbeth), while singer gradually developed her specialization in Bel canto with Bellini (La sonnambula, I Puritani, Beatrice di Tenda and lastly Norma) and in particular with Donizetti where she started with Anna Bolena and Poliuto, as had Callas. In fact the Donizetti “bug” remained inactive for several more years, during which Gencer was frequently to be seen indiscriminately performing Aida, the Countess in Le Nozze di Figaro, Francesca da Rimini, Gilda, Donna Anna and Amelia in Un ballo in maschera.
In 1964 however the die was cast, and with a triumphant Elisabatta in Roberto Devereux, Gencer ensured herself the monopoly of a repertoire  all her own, comprising exciting rediscoveries of Donizetti roles. Then came the Borgias, Stuards, Antonia in BelisarioCaterina Comaro, Paulina in Les Martyrs, which  identified the Turkish soprano as a Donizetti reference point, even before the success of Caballé, Sills and Sutherland in the same roles.
This “label” however didn’t prevent her from playing Alceste one day and the next Gioconda, Medea or Mayr, Rossini’s Elisabetta and Spontini’s Agnese with chameleon-like gusto, not to mention the fact that the warlike Verdi found in Attila, Ernani and Vespri proved a pastime too irresistable to turn down. As one can imagine, boredom certainly wasn’t one of Gencer’s qualities, even if all this versatility didn’t depend entirely on a desire to avoid all obvious choices, but above all speculative curiosity (supported by very refined culture) and in particular her subjugating prima donna personality. It’s no coincidence that the series of queens formed the framework of Gencer’s repertoire, for the regal authority that characterized this soprano’s magnetism theatrical power from the outset. Temperament alone would’ve of course been useless without support of a superlative technique, which enabled her voice, which was anything but  powerful as volume was concerned (but projected wonderfully on stage) and whose colur wasn’t dramatic (altough the accent definitly was) to undertake the hardest most contrasting roles in the soprano repertoire. The desire to “invent” a credible voice for the parts she was headily attracted to definitely compelled Gencer to come to compromises, such as some clearly “poitrinés” sounds in the lower register, her voice’s explosions on the high notes and the famous coups de glotte in the attack of the pianissimos, which she managed to transform into a highly personal trademark, thanks to her charisma. This change is noticeable in Gencer’s numerous recordings and can be dated around 1960: in fact, when comparing the same role in editions before and after that year (i.e. Anna Bolena, Amelia in Simone, Leonora in La forza del destino and Lidia in La Battaglia di Legnano), it’s possible to notice an emission that from the floating lightness, the concentrated low sounds and the vaporous atmosphere when handling the higher tessituras, gradually assumed the intensity, power and tension of effective dramatic incisiveness.
The new Gencer didn’t disown the young Gencer, even though nevertheless forcing her natural features, even if maintaining vigilant technical control and achieving an equally authentic vocal physiognomy. The performer’s unprejudiced generosity definitely didn’t worry about putting to her vocal chords to the test: they were very flexible, but definitely not made of steel, so around the mid sixties the first signs of vocal fatigue made themselves heard, with a consequent reduction of theatre recitals, until her last Lady Macbeth, staged in Leghorn in 1980. The singer’s activity didn’t stop there however, since she held numerous delightful concerts, among which her skill in handling a role reappeared for the last time with the prima donna star of Prova di un'opera seria by Gnecco at the 1983 Venice Carnival.
These weren’t years of melancholic withdrawal, as was seen from the still audacious choices proposed in these recitals’ programs, but on the contrary offered the great opera diva a period for rethinking her vocality and experimenting other directions. Gencer in fact wisely retraced her steps, trying to recover the beautiful fleeting emission of her early years, which the succession of numerous violent satanic roles had altered through time. Incredibly, she succeeded and the miracle occurred for her tardy Paris debut in 1980, with a triumphantly acclaimed recital at the Athenée, followed by one in ‘8l (already released by Bongiovanni: GB 2523-2), another in ‘83 and lastly this one, held on 29th April l985.
The refinement of the program, divided between 18th and early 19th century composers, is the exclusive choice of many ofthe pieces, which at that time were authentic rarities. The prevailing pathetic side favours the careful thoughtful emission of the voice, which Gencer manages to control with exquisite skill, in both the intense pianissimos with which she handles the jumps to the high notes of “Sposa. son disprezzata” from Vivaldi’s Bajazet and the repeated delicate agility of “Oh! Had I Jubal’s lyre” from Haendel’s Joshua. Afterward the nobility of the accent prevails, maintaining austere majesty even in the tearful abandon, taking the most stimulating occasions in a theatrical piece such as Haydn’s Arianna a Naxos cantata. Here the authority of the recitative, so skilfully alternated between ceremony and pathetic tenderness, introduces the lyricism of the catabile, repeated in pianissimo to touching effect and concluded, in an agitated atmosphere, by the stinging violence of that “barbarol”, in which the extremely cutting R’s reveal all the abandoned protagonist’s resentment.
The second part is even more stimulating, in which some irresistible queens reappear (Golconda was to be Gencer’s last Donizetti performance, a couple of years before the opera’s revival in Ravenna) and with the only “en travestti” role performed by the Turkish prima donna, Armand in Il crociato in Egitto, here proposed in an aria written expressly by Meyerbeer for Giuditta Pasta, on occasion of a Parisian recital in 1825. Compared with the first part it’s already possible to hear Gencer’s stylistic subtlety in the choice of a more romantic accent, more sentimental abandon and a more open melodramatic theatricalness. And one is surprised by how the singer still ventures into daring cadenzas precious variations (e.g. the one in the reprise of “Dopo l’oscuro nembo” a magnificent anticipation by Bellini of Juliet’s cavatina in I Capuleti), brilliant fiorituras, such as in the martial Meyerbeer cabaletta, which reveals a Gencer who is unexpectedly virtuoso, precise and at the same time amused.
The encores are another surprise, with a self-ironic Rossini piece entitled “Siete turchi” (You’re Turkish), capriciously lifted from the Fiorilla-Selim duet; with the languising lightness and wonderful legato of the Caterina Cornaro aria, here in one of Gencer’s most beautiful performances; with the new proposal of the aria from Paisiello’s Molinara, with its enchanting introspective tone and delicate variations and the whispered complicity of “A mezzanotte” Almost as if to seal a last intimate appointment with her beloved Donizetti and with her adoric public, electrified by an eternally fascinating artist, whose magic still remains impenetrable and overpowering even for those listening to this recording.

RECITAL – PARIS

Athenée Theater
26 September 1983     
LES LUNDIS MUSICAUX DE L’ATHENEE

OPENING CONCERT OF THEATRE ATHENEE

Leyla Gencer soprano
Nikita Magaloff piano

Chopin Polish Songs op.74 No.1 Zyczenie (The Wish)
Chopin Polish Songs op.74 No.2 Wiosna (Spring) 
Chopin Polish Songs op.74 No.3 Smutna rzeka (The Sad Stream)
Chopin Polish Songs op.74 No.4 Hulanka (Merrymaking)
Chopin Polish Songs op.74 No.5 Gdzie lubi (There were she loves)
Chopin Polish Songs op.74 No.6 Precz z moich oczu! (Out of my sight!)
Chopin Polish Songs op.74. No.7 Posel (The Envoy)
Chopin Polish Songs op.74 No.8 Sliczny chlopiec (Handsome lad)
Chopin Polish Songs op.74 No.9 Melodya (Melody)
Chopin Polish Songs op.74 No.10 Wojak (The Warrior)
Chopin Polish Songs op.74 No.11 Dumkas: Dwojaki koniec (The double end)
Chopin Polish Songs op.74 No.12 Moja pieszczotka (My darling)
Chopin Polish Songs op.74 No.13 Dumkas: Nie ma czego trzeba (There is no need)
Chopin Polish Songs op.74 No.14 Pierscien (The ring)
Chopin Polish Songs op.74 No.15 Narzeczony (The Bridegroom)
Chopin Polish Songs op.74 No.16 Piosnka litewska (Lithuanian Song)
Chopin Polish Songs op.74 No.17 Spiew grobowny (Hymn from the Tomb)
Chopin Polish Songs op.74 No.18 Czary (Charms)
Chopin Polish Songs op.74 No.19 Dumka (Reverie)

Chopin / Viardot 12 Mazurkas I. Seize ans
Chopin / Viardot 12 Mazurkas II. Aime-moi
Chopin / Viardot 12 Mazurkas IV. Coquette
Chopin / Viardot 12 Mazurkas V. L’Oiselet

LE MONDE                                                  

1983.09.14

RECITAL – PARIS

Athenée Theatre
04 October 1981       
LES LUNDIS MUSICAUX DE L’ATHENEE

OPENING CONCERT OF THEATRE ATHENEE

Leyla Gencer soprano
Vincenzo Scalera piano

La Turca
Monteverdi La mia Turca che d’Amor non ha fè (for solo voice)
Donizetti Là sedeva, sull'erton verone La Sultana

L'innamorata
V
ivaldi Se cerca, se dice L’Olimpiade
Beethoven La partenza (WoO 124)
Rossini 8 ariette "Soirées musicales" 3. La partenza

La Regina
Carissimi Ferma, lascia ch’io parli Lamento e morte di Maria Stuarda
Donizetti D’un cor che muore Maria Stuarda
Donizetti Tu che voli gia spirto beato No, qui morir degg’io Fausta

La sacerdotessa
Spontini Caro oggetto La Vestale
Pacini Ai mortali, o crudo, ai Numi Saffo
Donizetti Foan, Foan! Ahi misera Cantata Saffo for solo voice and piano

La maga
Handel Tornami a vagheggiar Alcina
Mayr O furie, che un giorno Medea in Corinto

La zingara
Bizet Le matin L’Arlesienne
Verdi La Zingara from six romances

Ancors:
Rossini 8 ariette "Soirées musicales" 6. La pastorella dell’Alpiondola
Donizetti Torna all'ospite tetto...Vieni o tu, che ognor io chiamo Caterina Cornaro

Recording date


JOURNAL DE L'ANNEE EDITION 1981 - 1982                                        
1981.03.03

VANIDADES                                        

1981.03.03

LE MONDE                                      
1981.05.20

LE FIGARO                                           

1981.10.07
JACQUES DOUCELIN

Diva and her mirrors

Who’s Leyla Gencer? Is she a Turkish singer? Yes, she was born in Turkey but she improved her flawless technique in Italy. Is she a lover? Yes, she’s the lover of Bel Canto. Is she a nun? Yes, she’s a nun of the once forgotten and the most difficult opera pieces. Is she a queen? Do you even doubt it?! Is she a sorcerer? Of course, she is! Is she Bohemian? She has inky hair and eyes.
Her recitals at the Athenée Theatre were a source of happiness. And that happiness derived from three reasons: her exceptional musical refinement, astonishing vocal mastery and ever-present intelligence…This last quality left us alone with a six-faced mirror which could have only been imagined and realized by her; Leyla Gencer, who’d become the queen of La Scala after Callas. No, she didn’t try to impress us with a diva attitude. Her rules are seriousness and perfection. The beauty is a detail. Her breath control makes the voice vibrations spread magnificently! What she accomplished with Handel’s Alcina aria, will remain as a perfect example of an interpretation. 
And what about Maria Stuarda’s lament, Sapho’s song and Donizetti’s Cantate? There was the sorceress in her black dress. A merry and laughing Diva who saw herself so gloriously in her mirrors!
Nothing was enforced. It seemed like a cat and mouse game between the Diva, her brilliant pianist Vincenzo Scalera and the audience. A spectacular season opening ! 

THE BELCANTO OPERAS by CHARLES OSBORNE

1994


Fausta
opera serie in two acts

Principal characters:

Fausta (soprano)

The Emperor Constantine (Costantino) (baritone)
Crispo, his son (tenor)
Massimiano, Fausta's father (bass)
Irella (mezzo-soprano)

LIBRETTO by Domenico Gilardoni (completed by Gaetano Donizetti)

TIME: 326 A.D. PLACE: Rome
FIRST PERFORMED at the Teatro San Carlo, Naples, 12 January 1832, with Giuseppina Ronzi de Begnis (Fausta); Antonio Tamburini (Costantino); Giovanni Basadonna (Crispo); Giovanni Campagnoli (Massimiano)
 

In the spring of 1831, while Donizetti was busy composing his two one-act operas, Francesca di Foix and La Romanziera e l'uomo nero, the German composer Felix Mendelssohn arrived in Naples for a stay of several weeks. Contemptuous of Italian composers in general and of Donizetti in particular, Mendelssohn wrote: ... Donizetti finishes an opera in ten days. Of course it may be hissed, but that is no matter, as it is paid for just the same, and he can then go about enjoying himself... but he sometimes spends as long as three weeks on an opera, taking considerable care with a couple of the arias, so that they will please the public and he can then afford to enjoy himself once again, and go back to writing rubbish."

The last of the operas Donizetti composed during 1831 was Fausta, which he worked on in the autumn, and which was staged at the San Carlo on 12 January 1832. Domenico Gilardoni, his usual Naples librettist, died at the early age of thirty-three while at work on Fausta (whose provenance, probably an Italian play, is unknown), and Donizetti himself completed the libretto, possibly with help from Andrea Leone Tottola.
Fausta was a success at its première in Naples, and in December 1832 it was staged in Milan to open the carnival season at La Scala, where it was performed thirty-one times during the season. For these Milan performances Donizetti composed an overture, and later added other numbers to the score for the opera's production in 1833 in Venice, in 1834 in Turin, and for a revival at La Scala in 1841. Fausta was also staged in Madrid, Lisbon and Havana during the 1830s, and in Vienna in 1841. It was first performed in London on 29 May 1841, and was unfavourably received in Bergamo in 1843. After being revived again at La Scala in 1859, it disappeared from the world's stages until 27 November 1981 when it was produced at the Rome Opera with a cast headed by Raina Kabaivanska (Fausta), Renato Bruson (Costantino) and Giuseppe Giacomini (Crispo). Though it has not been staged since then, Fausta was given a concert performance during the 1987 Donizetti Festival in Bergamo. It has not yet been performed in the United States.
The tragic plot of Fausta is strong in dramatic situations. Fausta, married to the Emperor Constantine (Costantino), is in love with her stepson Crispo, who in turn is in love with Irella (called Beroe in early editions of the score), a Gallic princess whom he has captured in his war against the Gauls and brought to Rome. When Fausta confesses her feelings to Crispo he expresses his horror, at which she threatens to kill Irella if he does not accede to her desires. Pleading for the life of his beloved, Crispo falls on his knees before Fausta, at which point Costantino enters. Thinking quickly, Fausta tells her husband that his son is in the process of declaring his incestuous love for her, to which information the emperor responds by condemning his son to exile. Fausta's father, the former Emperor Massimiano, is delighted at this turn of events, for he plans to murder both father and son in order to regain the throne. Later, attempting to foil Massimiano and his fellow conspirators, Crispo attacks Costantino by mistake, and is arrested and condemned to death. Fausta attempts to persuade Crispo to flee with her, but again he rejects her. In despair, Fausta swallows poison, and Crispo is led away to execution. Costantino learns too late that his son was innocent of attempting to kill him, but at least has the satisfaction of ordering the execution of Massimiano. When Fausta, now dying, confesses all to Costantino, he orders her to be executed as well. She insists, however, on dying where she is and, as she breathes her last, the chorus informs her that she is the greatest monster the world has ever seen.
There is a reasonable degree of truth embedded in Gilardoni's overwrought libretto. In the year 310 A.D., Maximian, the father of Fausta, attempted to revolt and was put to death by Constantine the Great who, sixteen years later, had Fausta and Crispus, his son by his first wife, executed for adultery. It is in 326 A.D. that, according to the libretto, the action of the opera takes place, at a time when one of its principal characters had, as a matter of historical fact, been dead for sixteen years.
The score of Fausta is disappointingly uneven, and much of it is commonplace. The heroine herself, whose situation is not unlike that of Racine's Phèdre, is given some fine dramatic opportunities, but the characters of her husband, Costantino, and her stepson, Crispo, come to life only intermittently, and that of her father, Massimiano, not at all. After a nondescript overture, the introductory scene augurs well, for it is a large-scale affair containing an opening chorus, a prayer ('Dea, che siedi in terzo cielo') which is Fausta's opening utterance, a trio, and an extended reprise of the triumphal chorus. But even here some of the choral writing is singularly uninspired, and in the following scene (added to the opera in 1841 for a Milan revival, and thus the latest part of the score to be composed) there is little of interest beyond an oddly Verdian phrase -sung to the words 'Fausta non è colpevole'-in the duet ('Spinto da quella smania') for Costantino and Crispo.
That Fausta is a rewarding role for a first-rate dramatic coloratura soprano is first revealed by the cavatina, 'Ah! se d'amor potessi' (lifted from Il Castello di Kenilworth), which calls for a finely spun legato line an aria for a Sutherland, a Gencer or a Caballé - and whose cabaletta, 'Fuggi l'immagine', is an effective piece of claptrap. But throughout the opera much of the accompanied recitative is ploddingly mundane. Fausta's Act I duet with Costantino is lacking in individuality, nor is her subsequent duet with Crispo, in which she attempts to seduce him, at all worthy of the strong dramatic situation. The Act I finale begins splendidly, but its stretta is pedestrian.
In Act II, Massimiano has a mechanically contrived solo ('Beato momento"), the aria for Crispo added to the score in Turin in 1834 is rather dull, and there is little of interest in the senate scene, though Costantino's quite conventional aria, T'amo ancora', is not unattractive. The duet for Fausta and Crispo, 'Per te rinunzio al soglio', which was added to the score for the Venice performances in 1833, is a sad, graceful piece, one of the opera's more impressive numbers, though its allegro conclusion is unsatisfactory. By far the best number is the solo finale for Fausta. Her cavatina, "Tu che voli già spirto beato', with its emphatic cabaletta, 'No, qui morir degg'io', brings the opera to an applause-inducing end, and is much more compact than the otherwise not dissimilar finale of Anna Bolena. Given a really fine interpreter of the title-role, Fausta could prove enjoyable, though it is hardly one of Donizetti's more interesting or original scores.

Recording Excerpts                         

Monteverdi La mia Turca che d’Amor non ha fè
Vivaldi Se cerca, se dice L’Olimpiade               
Beethoven La partenza (WoO 124)                    
Rossini 8 ariette Soirées musicales 3. La partenza               
Carissimi Ferma, lascia ch’io parli Lamento e morte di Maria Stuarda                         
Donizetti D’un cor che muore Maria Stuarda                        
Donizetti Tu che voli gia spirto beato No, qui morir degg’io Fausta                     
Spontini Caro oggetto La Vestale                        
Pacini Ai mortali, o crudo, ai Numi Saffo                       
           
Donizetti Foan, Foan! Ahi misera Cantata Saffo for solo voice and piano
Handel Tornami a vagheggiar Alcina                           
Mayr O furie, che un giorno Medea in Corinto                       
Bizet Le matin L’Arlesienne                                                                        
Verdi La Zingara from six romances                       
   
Rossini 8 ariette "Soirées musicales" 6. La pastorella dell’Alpiondola                          
 
Donizetti Torna all'ospite tetto...Vieni o tu, che ognor io chiamo Caterina Cornaro       

FROM CD BOOKLET
PARIS RECITAL
1981
GIOVANNI VITALI

Leyla Gencer’s Parisian recital of 1981 is really something from another time, mostly because of its wide program, ranging from Monteverdi to Bizet (and the reference to the famous From Monteverdi to the Beatles of Cathy Barberian is intentional and I hope it doesn’t sound odd, considering the extraordinary versatility characterizing these two protagonists in the history of vocality in our century.)
If we were speaking of a pianist, a program like this could be defined in the “style of Busoni”. ln the case of a singer, we cannot but refer to what the great primadonnas of the past usually proposed in their academies, with the obvious aim to give the audience a complete picture of their vocal and interpretative qualities. So, for instance, Giuseppina Strepponi would pass with great confidence from a singing di agilita to a dramatic one, from the semi-comic - if not totally comic - to the tragic repertoire. A kind of experience that today very few sopranos can afford. Undoubtedly Leyla Gencer is to be included in this narrow circle of elected, and what’s more, among the very first ones. There is no use in discussing about the timbric glamour of either voice, since the subject offers wide margins to personal appreciation. What really matters is the result, and as far as this Turkish soprano is concerned, the results are so exceptional to make history.
Thus, her wide repertoire testifies not only the technical and interpretative qualities of the most celebrated models of the past (qualities that may also be found in other sopranos belonging to that special “Olympus” we mentioned above), but above all it evidences a really uncommon; musical versatility and intellectual brilliance. And it is just thanks to her extraordinary intelligence that Ms. Gencer could give a contribution of fundamental and unquestionable importance to the Donizetti Renaissance and that she was also able to bring back characters like Medea, Norma, Lady Macbeth and many of Verdi’s heroines to their authentic nature of belcanto.
The program of this Parisian recital is oddly organized in different moments: each one with its own title, or better its own theme, highlighting a side of Leyla Gencer’s multiform personality, starting just from her native roots, always deeply felt by this great artist and recently strengthened thanks to the new “Leyla Gencer” contest for young operatic singers in Istanbul.
But the hidden threads connecting the different pieces of this recital are really well characterized, with selected rare pieces and very refined musical combinations (La Partenza, one by Beethoven and one by Rossini on the same text by Metastasio; an aria from Pacini’s Saffo on a text by Cammarano dated 1840, followed by Donizetti’s Cantata Saffo for soloist, choir and orchestra, dedicated to his wife, Virginia Vasselli; the Lamento e morte di Maria Stuarda by Carissimi in addition to the finale of the opera by Donizetti; an aria from Medea in Corinto by the Bavarian composer Mayr, teacher of Donizetti, dated 1813 and based on a text by Romani).
This recital offers countless vocal wonders, not last the whole, intact vocal means boasted by Mrs. Gencer, whose demanding career in 1981 had been lasting for over thirty years. Her control of the filature and the pianissimos is still perfect. How beautiful are Leyla Gencer’s pianissimos: those sounds made of nothing that made her famous, intangible sounds and yet so “present” in a concert hall or a theatre, a signature of a very personal, unique and unmistakable vocality. And her incisive interpretation is well known: impeccable stylistic control, very variegated phrasing, clear diction. In short, something from another time. From every point of view.