The sonata employs the traditional three-movement format, replete with a forced jig finale riddled with clichés. You could pick up snatches of Brahms violin sonatas, hints of Dvorák, and more surprisingly Saint-Sa”ns along the way. Parry was one of a class of scholarly composers who attained great technical knowledge, but he lacked any sense of melodic or harmonic daring. It's impossible to tell if this was fostered by the excessive Victorian concern for propriety or merely reflected a lack of inventiveness. Friday's sonata wasn't at all bad; it just couldn't hold the listener's interest. That Edelberg and Parr worked so ardently to bring it off made its lack of depth all the more apparent.

No such shallowness plagued Elgar's music, even in the sweetly tender Romantic salon pieces. Friday's quartet of them came along like a breath of fresh air after the Parry sonata and embarrassingly trivial songs. Oddly, these well-known pieces hardly ever get played these days, and I cannot understand why. It was nice to encounter them again, particularly so lovingly presented.

As one of the most famous voice teachers of his age, Tosti seems to have written his songs largely as quality teaching material. That element pales beside their ability to satisfy any audience, much like Bach's or Scarlatti's works written with didactic aim, all transcending the obvious. Tosti's may not be all that well known these days, but anyone would recognize some of his best: Does Mattinata sound familiar?

But Francesco Paolo Tosti on a British program? Simple: Although Italian by birth and with a Neapolitan education, Tosti died in 1916 as Sir Paolo. He had first visited London in 1875, liked it, then established his career there. By 1880 he was made, of all things, singing master to the royal family. (It's not a little amusing to envision Queen Victoria breaking into Sempre libera, no?) Tosti took British citizenship in 1906 and was knighted two years later, although he retired back in his native Italy in 1912.

Tenor Panikkar displayed a fine, clear lyric voice highlighted by exceptionally clean elocution during the Parry and Tosti works. But then, you may have seen him on the stage in some of the local Opera House productions. He's a graduate of the Merola Program for young singers and has now advanced to being an Adler Fellow at the S.F. Opera. Tall, good looking, musical, and with superb intonation, Panikkar seems fit for a major career.

The one flaw — something which seems to nag all young singers — was the difficulty of singing simple songs in a smallish room as if he were doing Don José or Cavaradossi in the Opera House. He'd reach some climactic moment then suddenly start forcing THE BIG VOICE — with the inevitable result the his naturally mellifluous timbre would turn gritty and unpleasantly loud. I don't know why those training young vocalists for an operatic career don't mention that holding back a little can be good thing, especially in a recital space, when less is more.