San Francisco Classical Voice

Frederica von Stade is a powerhouse of charm and personality, an American diva, the glamorous star-next-door. She can, when she chooses, place her admirable vocal resources in the service of telling interpretations; but she doesn't often choose to do so. Sunday and UC's Zellerbach Hall, the glitter, froth, and temperament of that personality saw her through much of a program generally well-chosen for her particular gifts. There were, however, infelicities, both vocal and interpretive.

First to suffer from these defects were Ravel's ferociously difficult Chansons madécasses ("Madegascan Songs"), in which she was joined by student instrumentalists from the San Francisco Conservatory, with the estimable Martin Katz, her partner for the afternoon, at the piano. In these songs as elsewhere, von Stade dwelled largely in the basement of her voice, often unsuccessful in her attempts to climb to the middle regions.

There are traps for mezzos in this piece, which she did not avoid, pressing on her lower notes and revealing weakness in her lower-mid range. Pitches in this region sounded flat, sometimes overblown, particularly in the first song, "Nahandove." There were breaths taken in wrong places, and the rapid and frequent tempo changes dictated by amorous climax and release sounded unplanned and uncontrolled.

The second song, "Aoua," needed more French suavity and pointedness in the declamation of such phrases as "Soyez justes, soyez bons, et devenez nos frères" ("Be just, be good, and become our brothers"). After the climax there is a falling-back into tempo at the victorious words "Ils ne sont plus, et nous vivons, et nous vivons libres" ("They are no more, and we live on, and we live free"). The long ritenuto and diminuendo happened too abruptly, an example of a lack of control.

In the third song, "Il est doux de se coucher" ("It is good to lie down"), von Stade had many intonation problems, pitching her voice too low for the intervallic leaps. The student cellist, Randolph Fromme, played well but too reticently on the important cello line. The excellent flutist, Rebecca Powell, also played in Frank Martin's Trois chants de No”l ("Three Christmas Songs"), which opened the program. Von Stade gauged these songs just right and sounded gorgeous.

Ernest Chausson's Chanson perpétuelle ("Song Without End") is the soliloquy of a young woman who has been abandoned by her lover. In the space of just under eight minutes, it moves from the woman's anguished call to natural forces to witness her despair, through a recounting of her first meeting with her lover, their brief time of love, his growing coldness and abandonment of her, and finally to her picturing of her suicide, floating Ophelia-like in a pond, hair loosened around her, entwined in reeds and rushes as if embraced by "the absent one." It is a chilling scena, and von Stade gave it plenty of emotional vocal power. Once again, however, her over-reliance on chest voice resulted in some curiously deadened notes. The excellent chamber players were the Oberon Quartet from the Conservatory, along with a rock-solid Martin Katz. Would that there had been enough room in the Cal Performances Stagebill for some notes on this piece, as well as biographies of the numerous American composers later in the program.

Von Stade then brought on yet another student, this time the young Karla Donehew from the Crowden School in Berkeley, to join her and Mr. Katz in Mozart's arrangement of his own "Non so più" ("I no longer know") from "The Marriage of Figaro." The singer had the chance to show, if we needed it, why she is beloved as a Mozart singer. It was a lovely performance. Donehew, all earnestness, was poised and lyrical.

The second half contained a pot-pourri of American songs. Von Stade, who champions many contemporary American composers, chose varied if unchallenging songs, although several are too often performed. Among the latter were Charles Ives' Memories, A, Very Pleasant, B, Rather Sad. Her performance of the "B" section was heartfelt, but there are many less familiar Ives songs left unsung, and it would have been good to hear some of those.

Likewise Aaron Copland's The Little Horses, from his realizations of folk songs, which she sang with too much energy, probably left over from her scintillating, arch Amor, William Bolcom's cabaret song that preceded the Copland. It was a winner, as was Virgil Thomson's St. Catherine of Sienna, to a Kenneth Koch poem, a prayer to the saint to cure the penitent's "heartache and shyness." Thomson shows what musical magic can be wrought simply with scalar motives. It is a beautiful setting for a touching poem. Von Stade's performance was perhaps a touch too operatic, but the final two lines, "Make the person who sings this song less shy than that person is/and give that person some joy in that person's heart," were tellingly delivered.

Best forgotten were Thomas Pasatieri's Vocal Modesty and Lee Hoiby's too-familiar The Serpent--the one about the singing snake--both having to do with singing, neither praiseworthy. One on the subject would have sufficed; none would have been even better. But the audience loved them.

The program closed with the Cinco canciones populares Argentinas ("Five popular Argentinian songs"). Mr. Katz was wonderful-- rollicking rhythms one minute, rippling guitar chords the next, humorous and sad by turns. Von Stade showed us what we had been largely missing, by singing the lullaby Arrorro with more actual "voice" than previously, though softer: a case of "less is more." The single encore was a delightful performance of Les Papillons ("The Butterflies") by Chausson, which left everyone feeling happily fluttery.

(Stephanie Friedman, mezzo-soprano, has performed in this country and abroad, in opera and recital. She teaches singing at U.C. Davis and Holy Names College.)

©1999 Stephanie Friedman, all rights reserved