Either bass-baritone Philippe Sly is supremely confident and eager to take on the vocal equivalent of challenges that would intimidate many a triathlete, or he’s just plain foolhardy. Why else would a first-year Adler Fellow, only 24 years old, present, for his Sunday afternoon Schwabacher Debut Recital in Temple Emanu-el’s Meyer Sanctuary, a program of French and German song that would be the supreme test of any modern-day Pierre Bernac, Gerard Souzay, or Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau?
True, the French-Canadian Sly has already won the Grand Prize at the 2011 Metropolitan Opera National Council Auditions and the 2012 Concours Musical International de Montréal, made his Salzburg Festival debut as part of the Young Singers Project, and built a reputation in Canada that has resulted in two releases on the Analekta label. And, in a few months, he makes his San Francisco Opera debut as Guglielmo in Così fan tutte. All of which suggests that, in one way or another, he has arrived.
Nonetheless, that does not mean he’s ready to tackle the program he presented on Sunday. When Fischer-Dieskau, at age 25, astounded the great conductor Wilhelm Furtwängler in 1950 with his mature interpretation of Brahms’ profound Vier ernste Gesänge (Four serious songs), his life experience had already included the horrors of World War II, the destruction of his family home, the Nazi institutionalization and death by starvation of his brother, and two years as an American prisoner of war. I don’t know what life experiences are hidden beneath Sly’s stunning mane of curly blond hair, handsome countenance, and supremely likable persona, but the maturity and vocal command to handle a program that began with two songs by Duparc, and progressed to rarely heard Heine songs by Guy Ropartz, Ravel’s Don Quichotte à Dulcinée, a group of nine Schubert songs that call for astounding versatility of voice and emotional expression, and, of all the profound things in the world, Mahler’s “Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen” (I am lost to the world) — these are simply not his at this point in his career.
That Sly can put over a song with convincing authority and strong tone was confirmed by his performance of Schubert’s great “Erlkönig.”
That Sly can put over a song with convincing authority and strong tone was confirmed by his performance of Schubert’s great “Erlkönig.” In a rendition strikingly similar to Matthias Goerne’s, on his recent recording with Andreas Haefliger, Sly, together with his first-year Adler Fellow pianist and vocal coach, Sun Ha Yoon, launched into the frightening tale of the child who dies in his father’s arms during a frantic horse ride home. With Yoon clearly articulating every note without ever sounding pressed, Sly beautifully conveyed the deep, masculine tones of the assuring father and the desperation of the child. Lieder lovers who have grown weary of this often-performed tour de force should have heard the freshness and conviction of this duo.
Contrast this, for starters, with the opening Duparc set. “Chanson triste” (Sad song) was sung at a dismayingly even tempo, without the slightest ritardando to express intimacy or healing. Although Sly sweetened his deep, dark voice at the words “Mon amour,” and Yoon beautifully modulated her playing on the lid-wide-open piano so as to never overpower the singer, there was nothing in either’s tone to suggest sadness. The great chanson came off as nothing more than a nice melody.
Worse was the far more complex and layered “Phidylé” (for a woman so-named). Both performers beautifully conveyed the opening sentiments, yet when Sly opened his voice to sound ardent, he replaced any sense of refinement with an overpoweringly crass, oppressively forceful tone that left sweetness (and poor Phidylé) in the dust.
Sly introduced Ravel’s three songs of Don Quixote to Dulcinea by explaining that they were written for a film starring that supreme singing actor, the Russian bass Feodor Chaliapin. Obviously, the composer expected oversized acting. Instead, after a beautifully seductive “Chanson Romanesque,” Sly gave us an unconvincing prayer, with a failed attempt to float the final “Amen,” and a drinking song that vaguely amused. He could have done so much more, merely with tone.
Is Sly attempting to perform repertoire that is beyond his current emotional compass?
Jump to the end, and Mahler’s “Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen”, the last of his “Rückert Lieder.” As was often the case throughout the program, Sly’s attempts to lighten his voice higher in his range produced threadbare tone. When it came to the heart-searing final line, “In my love and in my song,” he abandoned any attempt to sing the high-lying part of the phrase with the essential soft tone it requires. Instead, he blasted, destroying any pretense of suffering and pain.
For the encore, “An die Musik,” Schubert’s glorious hymn to music, Sly clasped his hands as if in prayer and shook his head with sincerity, but produced nothing more than nice vocalism. The final verse was sung without the slightest pause, as if it meant very little.
In the other Schubert, the monumental “Gruppe aus dem Tartarus” (Group from Tartarus) was strong but hardly terrifying, let alone profound and earthshaking. The second verse of “Der Tod und das Mädchen” was much too casual, with death sounding far too sweet (though the pianism was beautiful). Not only did the strophic “Fischerweise” (Fisherman’s song) and the even lighter “Lachen und Weinen” (Laughter and tears) lack all charm, but Sly’s facial expressions were also unbelievable in the latter song, and failed to register in the voice. The familiar “Ständchen” (Serenade) sounded nothing like a tender seduction, and whatever sweetness Sly could produce was disrupted by a far too emphatic “Ach!”
Sly was quite convincing on the great “Der Doppelgänger” — and when it was appropriate for him to open his voice fully, as it was here, he found his niche — but he completely destroyed the song’s impact by, after only the slightest pause, launching into a spiel about “Wandrers Nachtlied II” (The wanderer’s night song). There, the pianism made the accompaniment sound far too sing-song, further destroying any pretense at profundity.
Is Sly attempting to perform repertoire that is beyond his current emotional compass, or are he and his many admirers so swayed by the beauty of his voice that they are overlooking problems with vocal production that led to threadbare tone on high soft notes as well as an inability to lighten at key moments? Time will tell.