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RECITAL REVIEW
April 18, 2004
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By Olivia Stapp
It is an authentic pleasure to hear a truly great operatic voice in recital. Last night the highly acclaimed soprano Deborah Voigt flooded Davis Hall with majestic vocalism of the kind that must have occurred when Flagstad, Fremsted, or Ferrier appeared in recital. Voigt's voice is finely polished to a flawless veneer, every note perfectly produced, and every register from low to high expertly equilibrated. The quality and density of her sound can be likened to thick cream and honey. She is a true dramatic soprano, the voice category which Callas once described as a universe all of its own, a voice with an extra gear for volume, expressivity, and above all dauntlessness.
The first part of the recital contained Schubert, Strauss, and Tchaikovsky songs, the least convincing of which were the four of Schubert: "Auflösung" (Dissolution), "Ganymed," "Der Zwerg" (The Gnome), and "Litanei auf das Fest aller Seelen" (On All Souls' Day). Voigt's rich vocal texture does not quite match the poetic quality here, which is more subtle and declamatory, especially in "Der Zwerg," which requires narrative style. But the long soaring phrases in Strauss and Tchaikovsky are a perfect fit. She created serene luminosity in Strauss' "Befriet" (Freed), and bold resplendence in Tchaikovsky's "Den li tsarit" (Whether day dawns).
At the beginning of the second half of the program, applause erupted when Miss Voigt appeared flamboyantly festooned in a feather and sequined gown, which she graciously demonstrated from every angle to the delight of the audience. Was it an oblique jab at the recent flap over her being sartorially challenged? With this light-hearted mood established she proffered several impish Ives songs, filled with unexpected turns and shifts, poetic songs by Moore, a brush with the salacious in Bolcom songs, and some Sondheim. The text of two songs, "George" and "I Never Do Anything Twice," were not printed at the request of the artist. Presumably, the enduring printed text is more offensive than the evanescent sung version! The encores were excellent. Strauss' "Frühlingsfeier," a touch of the Hojotoho (ever so slightly under pitch), "Can't Help Lovin' That Man of Mine," and a witty concoction called Wagner Roles. Here the soprano laments at being stuck in this musical category where there is no place to clap, like in the bel canto operas, and where some director tells you not to move a muscle for four and a half hours. She realizes that Wagner is spiritual food, but asks, what if you are not in the mood? She just wants to have fun. Resignedly (tongue in cheek), she accepts her fate to sing Strauss and Wagner. There is also a reference in the song to “L'affaire Black Dress,” which the audience found hilarious. Hopefully this recent incident, in which Voigt was let go from Covent Garden's new production of Ariadne because a little black dress was not suitable for her physique, will point out the absurd thinking now taking hold in certain opera-houses, and will help break the hold that producers, rather than artistic directors, have on casting operas. Perhaps it will resurrect the idea of building operatic productions around great singers rather than the hip, the mod, and the edgy.
(Olivia Stapp is an opera director, formerly artistic director of Festival Opera (1995-2001), and has had a major international career as a soprano)
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Deborah Voigt