Impressive in Size and Substance

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As soon as soprano Elza van den Heever started to pour forth her large, stunning sound, a story about Wagnerian soprano Kirsten Flagstad came to mind. For Flagstad’s first Metropolitan Opera audition, she was sent to a small rehearsal room whose proportions so cramped her vocal projection that no one sensed her ultimate potential. It was only years later, when she returned to the Met and began rehearsing on the main stage, that everyone present finally realized that the unassuming woman whose voice so effortlessly sailed over the full orchestra was destined to become our next great Wagnerian soprano.

Thank goodness the ceiling in the Hotel Rex’s long, rectangular salon held firm as van den Heever’s naturally large, unforced sound pressed up against it with near-Wagnerian force. You could hear the sonic distortion caused by sound waves reflecting back on themselves as the voice strove to break through its confines. The sound was glorious.

Almost too glorious. As van den Heever launched into Wie Melodien zieht es mir (It pulls me, like a melody), the first of five Brahms songs programmed for her hour-long San Francisco Performances salon at the Rex, I kept reminding myself that Wagnerian soprano Lotte Lehmann had also programmed and recorded the song. But while Lehmann mastered the ability to temper her sound, and in her prime could express the entire range of emotion from ecstatic rapture to heartbroken grief while singing softly, van den Heever’s naturally grand voice made few concessions to intimacy.

That is not to say that what her accompanist, Mark Morash, referred to as “Elza’s favorite songs” were devoid of expression or nuance. In the Brahms set, lovely, sweet high notes in O komme, holde Sommernacht (O come, lovely summer night) ceded to a different, appropriately weightier tone for Die Mainacht (The May night). Von ewige Liebe (From eternal love) displayed van den Heever’s ability to underscore key musical and emotional transitions.

Throughout the recital, her ability to evenly sustain the vocal line through impressively long-breathed phrases was exemplary. Botschaft (Message) was especially winning, and the combination of youthful charm and mature sound elicited deserved whoops and hollers from the soprano’s Opera Center fans and colleagues. But there was no escaping the fact that intimate emotions were mostly expressed in capital letters.

Causes for Concern

There were also a few troubling elements. The soprano’s proclivity to indulge in overly demonstrative physical movement and gestures (more suited to the big stage) that were sometimes not reflected in the voice made for slightly disjointed presentations. She also tended to end large-voiced phrases with an incongruous “uh” of release. Whether it is an unavoidable consequence of her vocal production, or an unconscious mannerism that can be corrected, I do not know. Regardless, the way it disrupts the overall arch of a song deserves attention.

Don’t get me wrong. I fully expect this 28-year-old wonder to go all the way to the top, and not just because she has vocal power, tonal beauty, and “money notes” for days. Ever since our collective jaws dropped when we heard her sing Von ewige Liebe in Elly Ameling’s master class at the old San Francisco Conservatory, I’ve expected great things from her. I’ll bet anything that, in a few more years — maybe even now her rendition of Strauss’ Four Last Songs will blow Deborah Voigt’s temperamentally unsuited, hard-edged performance out of the water. (Michael Tilson Thomas, I hope you’re reading this.) But whether she will make her mark in small-scaled art song remains to be seen.

Morash did a fine job as both raconteur and accompanist, save for Die Mainacht, where he failed to support van den Heever’s buildup in the middle section. But why in the world was his piano’s lid only open halfway? In the aforementioned master class, the much smaller voiced Ameling specifically counseled participants to sing with the piano lid wide open. Don’t worry, she said, the audience will be able to hear you. And you want all the colors that an open grand piano can contribute. Here, the piano’s colors were truncated, which shortchanged the artistic partnership.

Strauss, Debussy, and Songs from the Homeland

In three songs by Richard Strauss, van den Heever complemented Morash’s fine intro to Morgen (Tomorrow) with a beautiful, wonderfully poised opening phrase and a palpable sense of suspended longing. She also nailed the positive expectation in the first verse of Allerseelen (All Soul’s Day), changed color on the words “süssen Blicke” (sweet gaze), and invested the ending with great feeling. Only the gorgeously voiced Zueignung (Dedication) was too slow, especially at the entry to the final verse.

In three Debussy songs, van den Heever restrained herself at the climax to Clair de Lune (Moonlight). Even if she sang too slowly, her high-powered intensity in the middle of C’est l’Extase langoureuse (It is languorous ecstasy) was almost overwhelming. And the sense of young expectation in Green was lovely. Nonetheless, despite occasional use of the downward portamento favored by lyric soprano Maggie Teyte (whom Debussy coached as Mélisande), intimate Debussy is not van den Heever’s forte.

Songs in the soprano’s native tongues (English and Afrikaans) best displayed her gifts. A listener might prefer a finer-lined, less complex instrument for Gershwin’s By Strauss, but van den Heever’s grand, stretched-out line, girlish giddiness, waltzing about, and powerhouse finish surely left the spirit of Johann Jr. smiling. Coward’s I’ll Follow My Secret Heart, although a bit slow, featured wonderful excitement in the bridge, idiomatic swooning, and a light, sweet (albeit less than perfect) final note. Weill’s I Am a Stranger Here Myself was the clincher. The effortless high D in the middle of the song that came out of nowhere was so overwhelming that several audience members involuntarily gasped. Now there’s a voice!

As she introduced her self-described “signature encore,” the Afrikaans-language Heimwee (Nostalgia), by Stephanus le Roux Marais, van den Heever broke into tears. “This is why I didn’t talk in the whole recital,” she blurted through the sobs. The singing was beautiful. How could anyone not love this woman, nor want her to succeed?

Jason Victor Serinus writes about music for such publications as Opera News, American Record Guide, Stereophile, San Francisco Magazine, East Bay Express, and Bay Area Reporter.

Comments

Brava. Bravissima.

Posted by Eugene Brancoveanu on April 5, 2008 at 10:02 am
Well, how do you like that. I’m not the only one who hears a single phrase pour out of Elza van den Heever’s throat and immediately thinks of Wagner. Elza has just been named one of eight finalists in Seattle Opera’s 2008 International Wagner Competition! The competition will take place in McGraw Hall on August 16.

Posted by Jason Victor Serinus on April 7, 2008 at 3:50 pm
CONGRATULATIONS, ELZA!!!! This is so wonderful.
jason

Posted by Jason Victor Serinus on April 7, 2008 at 3:51 pm