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Recital

Alice Tully Hall, Lincoln Centre, New York

Sunday December 5, 2004

 

Simon Keenlyside, Baritone

Julius Drake, Piano

 

Schubert:

·        An die Leier (To the Lyre)

·        Stimme der Liebe (Voice of Love)

·        Fischerweise (Fisherman’s Song)

·        Geheimes (Secret)

·        Vom Mitleiden Mariä (Mary’s Compassion)

·        Prometheus

·        Im Walde (In the Forest)

Brahms:

·        Feldeinsamkeit (In Solitary Fields)

·        Nachtwandler (Sleep Walker)

·        Es schauen die Blumen (All the Flowers Gaze)

·        Ständchen (Serenade)

Mahler

·        Ich atmet’ einen linden Duft (I Breathed a Gentle Fragrance)

·        Des Antonius von Padua Fischpredigt (St Anthony of Padua’s Sermon to the Fishes)

·        Ich ging mit Lust durch einen grünen Wald (I Walked with Joy Through a Green Wood)

·        Blicke mir nicht in die Lieder (Look Not Into My Songs!)

·        Liebst du um Schönheit (If you Love for Beauty)

·        Frühlingsmorgen (Spring Morning)

·        Scheiden und Meiden (Parting and Farewell)

Ravel : Histoires naturelles

·        Le paon (The Peacock)

·        Le grillon (The Grasshopper)

·        Le cygnet (The Swan)

·        Le martin-pêcheur (The Kingfisher)

·        La pintade (The Guinea Hen)

Encores

Debussy:

·        Nuit d’étoiles

Fauré:

·        Le papillon et la fleur, op. 1, Nr. 1

·        Serenata toscana, op. 3, Nr. 2   (ab 2:12)

·        En sourdine, op. 58, Nr. 2

What the critics say

 

F. Paul Driscoll for Opera News, February  2005 , vol 69 , no.8

Simon Keenlyside’s December 5 recital at Lincoln Center’s Alice Tully Hall — an entry in Great Performers’ “Art of the Song” series — demonstrated anew that the British baritone is one of the best recitalists currently before the public. Partnered by the exemplary pianist Julius Drake, Keenlyside sang a program rich in beauty, wit and insight, offering an impressively weighty bill of German lieder (Brahms, Schubert and Mahler) leavened by the Histoires naturelles of Maurice Ravel.

 

Keenlyside was in terrific voice, his lean, tangy timbre making the most of the expressive opportunities in the program he and Drake had prepared. Their opening was superb: a graceful reading of Schubert’s “An die Leier,” its transitions from boldness to ruefulness (“Doch auch die Saiten tönen/Nur Liebe im Erklingen!”) beautifully judged. The same composer’s “Stimme der Liebe” was just as impressive, with the tricky internal rhymes struck deftly and lightly, with no breaks in the moving vocal line. The brisk word painting of “Fischerweise” had enormous charm, as did a freshly colored, unsentimental “Geheimes.” Keenlyside’s sense of address — his ability to conjure up the p erson to whom he is singing or speaking — is thrilling, nowhere more so on this occasion than in the lengthy “Prometheus,”,its final verse — “Hier sitzæ ich, forme Menschen Nach meinem Bilde” — a miracle of spontaneity. The four Brahms songs that followed the Schubert set finished the first half of the program with gentle good humor.

 

The seven Mahler pieces that opened the second half of the afternoon — drawn variously from the Rückert lieder and Des Knaben Wunderhorn — were gorgeous, from the transparent delicacy of “Ich atmet’ einen linden Duft” and the light, spinning tone of “Blicke mir nicht in die Lieder” to the hearty greeting of “Frühlingsmorgen” (one half expected the audience to rise at the baritone’s exhortations of “Steh’ auf !”) and the juicy, ringing embrace of “Scheiden und Meiden.” The Ravel cycle of animal songs was the zenith of the bill; Keenlyside caught the sly boulevardier tone of the verses to perfection, but kept their declamation fully and blessedly musical; it was a joy to hear an artist catch all the jokes in Jules Renard’s texts while singing so beautifully. (No animal imitations, thank goodness!) “Le grillon” was lit with wit — the incomparable, powder-dry reading of “Il se repose” — as well as sensuality, as in the final hushed verse: “Dans la campagne muette, les peupliers se dressent comme des doigts en l’air et désignent la lune.” The pose struck in “Le cygne” — hand in pocket, the manner conversational and off-hand — mirrored the waspish lines of the last verse to perfection: “Mais qu’est-ce que je dis? … Il engraisse comme une oie.” The unfortunate guinea hen of “La pintade,” the “hunchback of the barnyard,” took on exalted status here, as Keenlyside delivered “Cette poseuse l’agaçait” with the dismissive hauteur of headwaiter.

 

 

For a Song. A review by Frederick L. Kirshnit for concertonet.com

http://www.concertonet.com/scripts/review.php?ID_review=2724

“Mr. Keenlyside is especially impressive for what he does not do. As an operatic star in the making, it must be very tempting for him to infuse his lieder with characterization and yet he does not, opting instead to let the music be the focal point of the audience member’s attention rather than allowing ego and thespianism to carry the day.”

 

Swing That Nancarrow, Knotty and Droll

By Anthony Tommasini for the New York Times, December 7, 2004

 

Though the British baritone Simon Keenlyside has made some notable recordings, his artistry is best appreciated in person. A dashing stage presence, he excels in opera. And even in song recitals, like Sunday afternoon's program, presented to a nearly full house, Mr. Keenlyside approaches singing as a form of acting, with a typically British reverence for the spoken word. He is the Ralph Fiennes of baritones.

 

In songs by Schubert, Brahms, Mahler and Ravel, Mr. Keenlyside's warm and robust voice and insightful musicianship were consistently impressive. The vigor of Schubert's

 

"Fischerweise" ("Fisherman's Song") came through both in his crisp singing and in the way he bounced on his heels, a gesture that seemed completely spontaneous. In the Mahler, especially three melancholic songs on texts by Friedrich Rückert, every phrase was directly communicative, sensitive yet understated.

 

Mr. Keenlyside, accompanied by the splendid pianist Julius Drake, was also in his element in Ravel's "Histoires Naturelles," a song cycle about animals. A standout was "Le Martin-Pêcheur," about a fisherman who is transfixed when a dazzling kingfisher perches on his outstretched fishing rod. Mr. Keenlyside did nothing as corny as mimicking a fisherman's stance. He simply stood still with one hand in his pocket, leaning forward and singing almost in a trance. The imaginary bird seemed so real you were almost afraid to move for fear of disturbing it.

 

Mr. Keenlyside's affinity for these songs is easy to understand. Before singing claimed him, he studied zoology at Cambridge University.