Mezzo-soprano Helen Charlston performing by candlelight at Merchant Taylors’ Hall, York. Picture: Ben Pugh
A GENTLE Air was an exploration of the 17th-century French air de cour, centred on the songs of Honoré d’Ambruys and Sébastien Le Camus.
The programme opened with d’Ambruys’ Le doux silence de nos bois, a pastoral love song in which nature provides a peaceful refuge for lovers. You could almost feel the audience melt – and I’m not referencing the extreme temperature – as mezzo-soprano Helen Charlston sang the opening delicate stanza:
“The soft silence of our woods
is now broken only by the songs
of the birds that Love gathers here.”
Her tone was rich, the delivery expressive and nuanced, mirroring the underlying tenderness of the poetry.
Self-pity replaces pastoral serenity in Le Camus’ Je veux me plaindre:
“I would complain
of your harshness,
and what do I have to fear
would constrain me,
since I am dying?”
Tenor Paul Agnew embraced its emotional extremes, milking the expressive dissonances while balancing speech-like declamation with genuine lyricism.
The dialogue between the two singers deepened in the paired Lambert settings. Charlston’s Ombre de mon amant, a lament to the ghost of a dead lover, was sung with extraordinary stillness and beauty of tone, her expressive ornamentation intensifying the emotional restraint of the music.
Agnew’s response, Vos mépris chaque jour, remained rooted in the wounded dignity of a steadfast love confronted by apparent cruelty. The way he deftly negotiated the subtle harmonic shifts mirrored the text’s shifting emotions, while the contrast between the two voices reinforced the sense that the programme was unfolding as a continuing dramatic exchange rather than a succession of isolated airs.
Tenor Paul Agnew and theorbo player Sergio Bucheli at Merchant Taylors’ Hall. Picture: Ben Pugh
Throughout these exchanges, Sergio Bucheli’s theorbo acted as more than accompaniment, binding the individual airs into a coherent emotional narrative.
Alas, as they might have said, his moment to shine as solo performer was compromised. The change of instrument to the more delicate lute was cut short with one of the strings snapping whilst tuning – presumably a casualty of the heat?
Nevertheless, I really did enjoy his performance of Robert de Visée’s Suite in D minor. The fuller, richer sonority of the theorbo and graceful delivery suited the melancholic atmosphere of the programme thus far.
Marc-Antoine Charpentier took the programme into more introspective territory with Tristes déserts, sombre retraites. Agnew sang it with a real sense of pathos. The poignant suspensions and intensity gave the performance genuinely psychological depth.
Of the three Charpentier airs, the chaconne, Sans frayeur dans ce bois, proved the most moving. Bucheli’s gently recurring ground bass provided an emotional anchor, allowing Charlston’s elegant vocal line to unfold with increasing expressive freedom. The ornamentation was beautifully judged.
I wasn’t entirely convinced by Bucheli’s Shakespeare quotation (“I can suck melancholy out of a song, as a weasel sucks eggs”) but his account of de Visée’s Suite in G major was very persuasive. I should confess that I haven’t heard any of his music before, but the rich resonance of the theorbo, refined ornamentation and elegant dance rhythms in Bucheli’s performance made for a very rewarding listen.
The festival described the programme as being “inspired by the poetry of love”, inviting listeners into the delicate world of the French air de cour. Taken as a whole, A Gentle Air could be heard as one extended love duet.
Rather than presenting a succession of solo airs, the programme unfolded as a dialogue between two complementary voices. Helen Charlston and Paul Agnew frequently answered, echoed and completed one another.
Theorbo player Sergio Bucheli playing at July 9’s A Gentle Air concert. Picture: Ben Pugh
Their shared emotional journey traced the stages of a relationship: desire, anticipation, tenderness, jealousy, complaint, separation and reconciliation, giving the programme an emotional continuity that transcended the individual songs.
Bucheli’s theorbo became more than an accompanying instrument. It bridged the emotional worlds between the two singers, almost assuming the role of an unseen narrator or confidant.
Fittingly, the final song of the programme – Jean-Philippe Rameau’s Je vous revois – resolved their emotional journey. After so many songs of longing, rejection, jealousy, solitude and, yes, melancholy, this was one of the programme’s few unequivocal moments of fulfilment:
“I see you once more, everything yields
to the utter delight
of meeting once again the object of
one’s love.”
The song was sung with elegance, poise and beautifully shaped phrasing. In the line “everything yields to the utter delight…” came emotional release.
The success of this dramatic conception rested not only on the repertoire but also on the performers themselves. Agnew and Charlston brought contrasting yet wholly complementary strengths, creating a partnership of balance, musical empathy and emotional conviction.
Helen Charlston has completed her three-year tenure as an artistic advisor to the York Early Music Festival, and this specially curated concert was a fitting and memorable way to sign off.
Review by Steve Crowther