It was a special afternoon, delivering more musical delights, revelations, and unadulterated joy than you might expect from the recital format. Why such an unusual event that united two of today's most talked-about composers — men whose versatility successfully bridges the gap between opera and modern musical theater, and who ably accompanied the likes of Frederica von Stade and a cast of younger, highly gifted artists — was not attended by more people is a puzzlement better addressed by the I Ching than yours truly.
Held on Sunday in the fine acoustics of UC Berkeley's Hertz Hall, the Cal Performances event, titled "Theater in Song," was divided into two halves: Jake Heggie accompanying six singers in three of his recent extended works, and Ricky Ian Gordon accompanying the same sextet in a number of shorter songs. While Heggie's work emerged as the more harmonically adventurous and complex, and Gordon's as the most irresistibly tuneful, it is fair to say that the real winners were the vocalists, who were given so many opportunities to explore the limits of their craft, and those privileged to hear them. Heggie began with the West Coast premiere of his 22-minute musical scene, At the Statue of Venus (2005).
With an alternately hilarious and poignant libretto by Terrence McNally, who reportedly turned it out in 45 minutes (see SFCV's interview in the April 24 issue), the work was brought to life by Kristin Clayton, the soprano who substituted for an ailing Renée Fleming at the premiere in Denver. Joining her onstage was Venus herself, in the form of a plaster replica (more or less) that was unceremoniously carted offstage after the performance. Heggie's wild and crazed piano prelude, which spiritedly meanders all over the place, gives an indication of his protagonist's mental state, as she awaits a blind date next to the famed statue. From the opening line, "The slacks were a mistake," to her swings of anticipation, dread, self-condemnation, and romantic longing (including a side-splitting section in which she fears that her blind date is gay), Clayton and Heggie created a masterful portrayal that struck universal chords of self-recognition.
Flicka Shines
Four songs from Winter Roses (2004), a 25-minute song cycle written for mezzo-soprano von Stade, revealed the treasured veteran in superb form. In the first song, "Winter Roses," key words were illuminated by Flicka's inimitable intelligence. As she began the line "Perhaps love only seems to fade for a time," her voice seemed to shiver with emotion. Singing her own text for "To My Dad," she allowed Heggie's simple, artfully understated scoring to eloquently amplify her feelings. The "la la lahs" in the final song, "Sweet Light," to text by Raymond Carver, may have proclaimed "musical theater," but the voice and music sang art.
The set ended with the West Coast premiere of Here and Gone (2005), seven songs to texts by A.E. Housman and Vachel Lindsay. Baritone Kyle Ferrill and tenor Nicholas Phan, the latter a remarkably relaxed young man with a voice of arresting beauty, did star turns, accompanied by Heggie, violinist Dawn Harms, violist Carla-Maria Rodrigues, and cellist Emil Milland. Perhaps because the first song describes "The Farms of Home," everyone performed barefoot except, for some unknown reason — there must be a reason — Ferrill. The performances were greatly abetted by minimal staging and interaction: a mock rivalry in "The Factory Window Song"; positioning the singers facing each other in the gay love song "In the Morning"; raising hands; and so on.
After intermission, Gordon touchingly dedicated his 17 pieces to Heggie, who originated the idea of the joint recital. After the swinging "Ring-a-Ding-Ding" for piano four hands, played by both composers, it was on to song. With the addition of soprano Marnie Breckenridge (a little thin and soubrettish lower in the range, gloriously free on top, always delightful onstage) and mezzo-soprano Zheng Cao (beautifully voiced, if prone to fuzzy diction and a tendency to overpower Breckenridge in their duets), the nonstop energy of the first songs, with nary a pause or silence in the piano, gave telling evidence of Gordon's Long Island roots. Demonstrating his affinity with eloquent texts, Gordon did fabulously with emotions ranging from joy (also the title of the second song, to text by Langston Hughes) to humor (with Breckenridge a scream in "Lana Turner Has Collapsed," to text by Frank O'Hara).
Other highlights were the extended male love duet, "Dream True," to text by Tina Landau, and the concluding "Will There Really Be a Morning," to text by Emily Dickinson. With the addition of Clayton, all five singers gathered around von Stade, who took center stage. Thanks to the heart-seizing profundity of her low range, and her masterful use of vocal slides, which served as a lesson in how to balance emotional effusiveness with restraint, von Stade did for Gordon's writing what Richard Tauber did for Viennese song — transform it into high art. Reminding many of her shattering portrayal of the mother in Heggie's Dead Man Walking, von Stade's enduring greatness, complemented by the vocal ensemble, brought virtually the entire audience to its feet.