First up were Véronique Gens and Susan Manoff with a delectable lunchtime concert of Massenet, Gounod and Hahn. Then two days later Bernarda Fink introduced us to the song cycles of Ravel in a fascinating and rather exotic concert titled 'Une rare émotion', framing them in perspective with works from Debussy and Saint-Saëns.
Attending both concerts showed how the song, like several forms of classical music, made huge advances in style under Debussy and Ravel, becoming more concentrated in expression and more elusive in harmony. Both showed great imagination and flair in their settings, and Fink did really well to resist the temptation to 'over program' her recital. Less in length was definitely more in execution.
The objective of Fink's recital was to show Ravel's genius as a song-setter, but also to show how the French song was developing to include instruments alongside the piano. There was an attractive flute line for Saint-Saëns' Une flute invisible and a cello accompaniment for Massenet's Elegie, an excerpt from his opera Manon. More instructive still were Ravel's Chanson madécasses, where flute and cello offered colourful counterpoint in reaction to the text, which at times had the Wigmore audience scratching their collective heads with its obliqueness.
The Cinq mélodies populaires grecques showed an uncommon concentration of expression, operating as all Ravel does with each note of the utmost importance, none wasted. Only Shéhérazade was found a little wanting, because it is better known in its orchestral version. Adam Walker helpfully supplied the flute line, but Fink was the star, with a vibrant and colourful rendition of Asie, bringing the tale of 1,001 Arabian Nights to life.
Ironically in this recital the two Debussy cycles upstaged those of his contemporary and some-time rival, due perhaps to their naturally unfolding performances and easier structure for a live audience. The opening piano salvo in the first song of Chansons de Bilitis, La flûte de Pan, immediately set the scene, the ears keen to hear Fink's first words. In Trois mélodies de Paul Verlaine the air hung thick with the atmosphere of each song – the piano's florid arpeggios conjuring the sea in La mer est plus belle and the shading from accompanist Christopher Glynn exquisite in L'échelonnement des haies, depicting the busy hedgerows. Verlaine's verse and Debussy's music seemed tailor made for each other, the harmonic style relatively ambiguous but the vocal lines beautifully wrought.
It is perhaps inevitable that Massenet should suffer in comparison with these wonderful examples, but Gens showed in her concert how a little simplicity can go a long way. The composer was given quite a hard time in the booklet notes for setting 'second rate verse', and then for not doing enough with the piano part. A bit harsh, maybe – but given these performances it was much harder to find fault. The oscillating arpeggios of La mort de cigale were a case in point, delivered with a real freshness of voice, while Nuit d'Espagne was enjoyably playful.
The Gounod selection she performed was noticeably more accomplished in terms of verse, form and melody, with the Sérénade the single highlight of these two concerts. Gens sang it beautifully; controlling the 'coloratura' refrains with incredible poise, helped by the natural accompaniment from Susan Manoff.
Interestingly Reynaldo Hahn, a contemporary of Debussy and Ravel, made considerable impact in his song settings, making the poet Victor Hugo cry on one occasion when his rivals did not. Gens was the ideal guide to a composer who penned her recital's most dramatic song, the chilling Trois jours de vendange, which took a turn for the dark side half way through. It was a dramatic moment that suggested there is much more to be made in the discovery of French song. True, Debussy and Ravel may be the acknowledged masters, but there was more than enough here to suggest further investigations will be rewarded.
