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RECITAL REVIEW Skill and Rapport October 27, 2002
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By Eric Valliere
For soprano Isabel Bayrakdarian, a recital is an opportunity for sharing. For nearly two hours in Berkeley's Hertz Hall on Sunday, the opera world's rising star shared music rooted in her Armenian heritage, her smart interpretations of Barber's Hermit Songs, her astonishing vocal technique and her pure and infectious joy of singing. Looking like some fortuitous combination of Maria Callas and Catherine Zeta-Jones, Bayrakdarian radiated a warmth and emotional immediacy that was especially rare in the world of operatic hauteur, and she matched it with the rich colors of the repertoire chosen for the program. With songs in Spanish, English, Italian, Armenian and Russian, it was an afternoon few will forget.
The concert began with the Colección de tonadillas escritas by Enrique Granados. Written in 1912, this set was the perfect introduction to the presentational style of Bayrakdarian: deceptively simple but laced with delightful touches, from stabs of dissonance to unexpectedly complex rhythms. Overall, the tone of the five songs chosen for this performance was light, and allowed Bayrakdarian's humor to shine through as she lingered over a portamento with delicious restraint and a knowing gleam in her eye. But the restraint she showed is that of the singer who knows she has much, much more in reserve.
When she opened up completely for the fourth song, "El mirar de la maja," it was for the tail end of this phrase:
Why do my eyes / Have so deep a look? / Because to hide disdain/ and anger I usually / half-close them. / What inner fire they would reveal / If by chance with fury / I should fix them on my love . . .
Here, a full ten minutes into the recital, is where she finally let loose, and the power of her voice was all the more amazing for the restraint (and intellect) it revealed. The sound itself has the depth and warmth of velvet, but something else, too, a kind of mercurial, liquid weight that is beautiful but uncontainable.
While Barber's Hermit Songs (1953) may lack the clear profile of some of his best work, they are heaven for the vocalist (as evidenced by the frequency with which selections from the cycle appear on programs). Bayrakdarian's pleasure in singing them was apparent not only from her wide smile and sparkling eyes, but by the almost motherly innocence she conveyed vocally, all fresh-air and dandelions. But in “Promiscuity” she showed that the wit was still there: shaking her head dolefully as she concluded that, while she did not know “with whom fair Edan will sleep,” she knew that “fair Edan will not sleep alone.” Pianist Martin Katz demonstrated his considerable good taste here, always keeping the textures clear despite the insistent chromaticism.
For a woman whose reception in the music world has been rapturous to say the least, it's interesting that the repertoire she sang in the concert's first half reflected a kind of contemplative loneliness. But the mood changed for the three sets of Armenian folksongs, two each by Alan Hovhaness, Parsegh Ganatchian, and Aram Khachaturian. These were songs of rosy cheeks and springtime, of morning sun and the rumpus of feasting. The slinky modality of Hovhaness's “Lorig” added a tinge of exoticism to the program, and elicited from Ms. Bayrakdarian a tentative eroticism. She seemed more at home with the childlike humor of Ganatchian's “Bejingo”, and used that to build to the exuberant celebration of Khachaturian's “Maiden of the Fields,” in which the phrase “She is like a tree in glorious bloom, garlanded with green branches in full splendor” seemed designed as a description of Bayrakdarian's singing, which was splendid indeed. The exoticism of the folk songs remained even as the mood of desolation returned for a collection of songs by Tchaikovsky, which featured Mr. Katz as much as Ms. Bayrakdarian in a complex tapestry of love, loss, folk tales and lullabies. In “The Cuckoo”, the titular bird expects to be angry at the gossiping of others, only to be disappointed that no one's talking about her. Ms. Bayrakdarian builds to a petulant climax, and ad libs a disgusted growl at the end in a moment of naturalistic character development. The pair probably had the opportunity to give as many encores as they pleased, but the audience had to be satisfied with the simple grace of Jayme Ovalle's “Azulão” and Delibes' "Les Filles de Cadiz." A good recital — excellent performances aside — leaves you satisfied and with something to think about. A great recital leaves you wanting more, and with the additional desire to talk with the artists for hours about the music. This was by all measures in that category: Ms. Bayrakdarian has the ability not only to make you feel like you know her, but to make you want to know her better. No doubt we will all get to know her better in the coming years.
(Eric Valliere earned his doctorate in composition from New England Conservatory in Boston, where he has also served on the Musicology faculty. Currently, Eric serves as Executive Director of the San Francisco Chamber Singers and the Noe Valley Chamber Music Series, and as Managing Director of the BluePrint Contemporary Music Festival (a project of the SF Conservatory). His critical writings have also appeared on www.classicstoday.com and www.andante.com.)
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Isabel Bayrakdarian