Mezzo-soprano Helen Charlston
COULD this be a lieder recital? In an early music Christmas festival? Although it contained no mention of Christmas, nor even a fortepiano for authenticity, mezzo-soprano Helen Charlston and her piano-partner Sholto Kynoch delivered a lunchtime recital so memorable that none of the fortunate 70 in the audience would have had the slightest qualms about hearing it in the festival.
It was billed as A Lyrical Interlude, a translation of Heinrich Heine’s Lyrisches Intermezzo of 1827, from which all its poetry was drawn. It culminated in Schumann’s Dichterliebe, after seven related songs, including two each from the Mendelssohn siblings, Fanny and Felix.
It is not necessarily an easy option to include a chestnut like Felix’s On Wings Of Song. But here Charlston’s cleverly suppressed ecstasy, complemented by Kynoch’s gently rippling keyboard, delivered something special. Reiselied (‘Song Of Travel’) was vivid enough to evoke Schubert’s ‘Erlking’.
Fanny Hensel’s two songs, about a lonely pine and a swan giving its last, revealed Charlston’s ability to nail a mood at once. In juxtaposing settings of ‘Die Lotosblume’, she found an appealing line in Schumann’s but surprisingly greater depth of emotion in Loewe’s.
Few Anglophones can boast her command of the German language. This is not merely a question of good pronunciation, although hers is excellent; it is the ability to convey literary nuance. It proved a huge asset in her account of Dichterliebe, a cycle much more often associated with male voices. Both performers went well beyond the poetry’s “mask of irony” referred to by Kynoch in his first-class spoken preface to the work.
Her early naivety and the chattering excitement of ‘Die Rose, Die Lilie’ (even so, finding room for rubato) gradually dissipated as the shine of the romance began to tarnish. Charlston found greater chest tone for ‘Im Rhein’, leading to the start of nostalgic bitterness, although the hammered postlude was out of scale for the venue and left little in reserve for later in the cycle.
‘Ich Grolle Nicht’ (I Bear No Grudge) was positively dripping with sarcasm, slightly muted by her choice of the optional lower notes at the end: her mezzo would comfortably have reached the more telling higher ones. But what really made the song was the brief sotto voce at its centre, as she recalled a dream.
After a deeply elegiac ‘Hör’ich das Liedchen Klingen’, the next song, ‘Ein Jüngling Liebt ein Mädchen’ brought playful relief. She stayed rivetingly in character through the tearful dream, evoking tears in her listeners.
There was yet another new mood for a jaunty start to ‘Aus Aalten Märchen’ (From Old Fairy Tales) but a smoothly regretful transition as these in turn melted away like foam. There was real anger in the final ‘bad old songs’, as both performers wrung every last drop of self-pitying pain from the poet’s ‘Schmerz’.
The postlude was finely drawn, even if its rallentando was a touch over-pointed. But this had been
a genuine duet, the performers drawing from one another. This programme, plus Héloïse Werner’s song- cycle Knight’s Dream, can be heard at Leeds Song on April 15 next year. You dare not miss it.
Review by Martin Dreyer