San Francisco Classical Voice

RECITAL REVIEW

Consummate Master

January 23, 2004

Anne Sofie von Otter

By Stephanie Friedman

A glance at Anne Sofie von Otter's program for Friday night's concert at Zellerbach might indicate something of an unfocused hodge-podge of fairly simple fare: a couple of Swedish composers, Berlioz, Cécile Chaminade, Mahler, Korngold, and Kurt Weill. Mahler's Des Knaben Wunderhorn (The Youth's Magic Horn) are settings of folk poems; Weill wrote cabaret and musical theater songs; Korngold wrote movie music. The one nod to “serious” song seemed to be “La mort d'Ophélie” (The Death of Ophelia). No soul-searing song cycle, and no center or focus to the program.

Initial misgivings might have been borne out if the singer had been anyone but Anne Sofie von Otter, who is anything but simple. To say that her instrument is a high, bright, almost translucent mezzo is to reveal only half the picture. Here's the picture in full detail: Her perfect vocal control allows her voice to take on any color at will, and she wills plenty. Her catholic tastes lead her to explore a wide variety of song. As a Swede, she is naturally reserved, but she also has a warm and abundant musical and dramatic temperament.. She is intelligent and loves irony, so that her performance of a song is often double-edged. She can change styles and temperament on a dime, from the robustness of folk song to the wreathing legato of the French salon. Best of all, she has a great sense of both fun and purpose. Witnessing her perform is a little like watching a high-wire act: the tension comes from wondering what she will do next and how she will do it.

The intriguing combination of control, temperament, and ironic detachment served her uncannily well in the Weill songs. The zest or delicacy of Mahler, the charm of Chaminade and the classical simplicity of Berlioz slid almost imperceptibly into the world-weariness of “Nannas Lied” (Nanna's Song); the hard-edgedness of “Seeräuber Jenny” (Pirate Jenny); and finally into the beguiling voice of a woman in love in “Speak Low” (text, surprisingly, by Ogden Nash). It was the same singer, but the voice was totally different each time and yet equally convincing. Von Otter's vocal legerdemain produced the handsomest, most elegant performance imaginable of these Weill theatre songs.

Far from Hollywood

An earlier group of three songs by Erich Wolfgang Korngold proved to be well-composed and not at all “movie-ish.” “Liebesbriefchen” (Billets-doux or Little Love Letters), to a poem by Elisabeth Korngold, is an affecting setting of three-line stanzas with two beats to a line, which von Otter molded gracefully and pointedly without ever losing her sense of the line. Her German, not surprisingly, was excellent, as were all her languages. The opening set of Swedish songs, two by Wilhelm Peterson-Berger and three by Wilhelm Stenhammar, were, respectively, expressive and lush, and folkish. All were winningly performed by pianist and singer.

Von Otter showed a flair for French in the songs of Cécile Chaminade, caressing and shaping the words with a sly sense of humor. She moved uninhibitedly as she sang, and it took little imagination to see von Otter's Octavian, a signature role from Strauss's Rosenkavalier, there before us. The final song, “L'amour captif” (Love Held Captive) was a sort of cabaret song, harbinger of the Weill to come.

“Aus! Aus!” from the Mahler group was a romp, a dialogue between a soldier announcing — repeatedly and with bravado — his impending departure for the wars, and his sweetheart, who somewhat melodramatically bemoans his leaving and threatens to enter a convent. Here, in her exploration of the layers of the simple folk text, Von Otter amusingly implied that the girl perhaps didn't really want her blowhard lover to stay all that much. The various appearances of “Aus!” (Out!) at the ends of lines was uproarious. Von Otter knew just how to milk the repetitions, and her depiction of the male and female characters was masterful. And when the girl beseeches her lover, “Trink du ein Gläschen Wein” (Come drink a glass of wine), Octavian, in female dress as the outrageously funny Mariandel, almost materialized once again before our eyes.

Skillful pairing

In the eerily simple “La mort d'Ophélie,” Berlioz captures both the girl's innocence and her insanity. Von Otter, with characteristic ease of production, never pushed beyond the limits of its artlessness. The repeated, rapid 3-note sequential figure in the piano, relentlessly limning Ophelia's ultimate fate, was the only disturbance to the gentle progress of both the song and the floating figure of Ophelia. Varying this motive chillingly was Bengt Forsberg, the perfect partner for von Otter throughout the concert, always matching her in spirit and style.

Forsberg also played two solo pieces on the program: Percy Grainger's “loving wedding gift” to his new Swedish wife, “To a Nordic Princess,” and Schubert's “Moment musical” in C-sharp minor.

For encores von Otter graced the audience with another sortie into the popular-song world with Tom Waits's “Take It With You When You Go,” and two more Swedish songs, the “Polka from Aspaker” by Peterson-Berger, which occasioned a spirited polka-like click and swing of the heel from the singer, and Benny Andersson's “Light as a Summer Butterfly.”