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5.0étoiles sur 5
The greatest American singer of our time?, Sep 5 2002
I had the great fortune to be in the audience for two Metropolitan Opera performances of 'Giulio Cesare' which featured, among others, Jennifer Larmore and superstar countertenors Brian Asawa and David Daniels. However, it was the young American contralto Stephanie Blythe who managed to steal the show from all of them as Cornelia, becoming an overnight sensation. Actually, I had already been following Blythe's career for several years - from a 1995 Berta in 'Il Barbiere di Siviglia' (where, admittedly, she sounded a bit too big and 'divaish' for a comic comprimaria), she impressed me mightily. She was then a member of the Met's Young Artist Program, and went on to such roles as Auntie in 'Peter Grimes', Antonia's Mother in 'Les Contes D'Hoffman', Madelon in 'Andrea Chenier', and Baba the Turk in 'The Rake's Progress'. You could call these Cornelias her 'graduation present'. She recently was a splendid Dame Quickly in 'Falstaff', and this season she will sing Mere Marie in 'Dialogues of the Carmelites' and reprise Baba. Bluntly, Blythe is probably the finest American singer of the current generation before the public today. Nearly everybody who has reviewed Blythe has stated that she is the heir to the throne of Marilyn Horne, and I agree. In fact, she is one of Horne's 'babies', who did some of her earliest work as a recitalist for the Marilyn Horne Foundation, and she often sounds uncannily like her. Blythe has not only Horne's power, richness, and huge lower register, but also a gentleness and vulnerability that one almost never hears from Horne. Her voice is warm and womanly, and, surprisingly for a contralto, young-sounding. She is equally adept at machine-gun coloratura and silken legato. She has beautiful control of dynamics, especially messa di voce. Her diction in English, which is actually one of the hardest languages to sing, is stunning - I never needed the booklet here, even for such ear-twisters as 'O'er Scythian hills to the Maeotian lake'. As far as I could tell her Italian, German, and Latin were equally adept. Finally, a true contralto, at least one who bills herself as such instead of as a mezzo-soprano, is rare indeed these days - in fact the only other ones I can think of with major careers are Ewa Podles and Larissa Diadkova. Beginning with 'Ombra mai fu', Blythe brings individuality and depth to a chestnut that virtually every other mezzo and countertenor has recorded and makes it special. The arias from 'Hercules' and 'Semele' are absolute tours de force dramatically. We experience Dejanira's self-recrimination, terror, and willing descent into madness in 'Where Shall I Fly', and Juno's majesty, jealousy, and rage in 'Iris hence away'. As I doubt that I will have the money to go to Covent Garden to see her perform in 'Semele' with Ruth Ann Swenson (the same week they are having the Pappano/Domingo/Gheorghiu/Hvorstovsky 'Pagliacci' and the Fleming/Diadkova 'Rusalka'!), I can hope that these two marvelous singers will eventually sing these roles at the Met. The highlight of the aforementioned Met 'Giulio Cesare' performances was extraordinary duet 'Son nata lagrimar' between Cornelia and her son Sesto. Blythe duplicates this triumph here with her Met partners David Daniels and conductor John Nelson. This selection alone is worth the price of the entire disc. To begin with, the music itself is probably the most beautiful mother-son duet in operatic history. Blythe's and Daniels' voices blend and compliment each other so perfectly and they sing with such tenderness, sorrow and intensity that the effect is heartwrenching. This scene comes right after Blythe's arresting rendition of Cornelia's aria 'Priva son d'ogni conforto'. When I saw her in 'Giulio Cesare' at the Met, I actually thought that she would be ideal in the title role. However, despite her fine rendition of 'Al lampo dell'armi' and mastery of Caesar's longing and nobility in 'Aure deh pieta', I think I would rather hear a more 'masculine' sounding singer such as Ewa Podles. If I find the Bach arias slightly less successful than the Handel, that is only because I am spoiled in this repertory by Kathleen Ferrier. Blythe does almost have Ferrier's nobility, if not quite her richness and amplitude. Also, Nelson takes some of this music, especially 'Enbarme dich' a bit too fast for my liking. However, Blythe here proves that she is as adept at being pious and self-effacing as she is at being dramatic and tragic. Despite some of my disagreements about tempi, John Nelson is a wonderful conductor for this repertory, capturing by turns its intensity, quiet serenity, and spirituality, and the Ensemble Orchestral de Paris plays marvelously under his baton. There is excellent continuo work from harpsichordists Emanuelle Haim (who has herself recently 'graduated' into conductorhood!) and Martin Isepp, as well as also violist de gamba Jerome Hantai in 'Es ist vollbracht'. Kudos also to the unnamed violin soloist in 'Enbarme dich'. French critic Charles Dupechez contributes a fine essay on the history of the lower female voice in opera and of the operas and oratorios performed here. In addition there are full texts and translations and a biography of Blythe. Why, however, is only half of Blythe's face on the CD cover? Blythe absolutely must record at least one disc of bel canto arias and ideally several complete operas, certainly 'L'Italiana in Algieri'. In fact, I really hope that the splendid telecast of this opera from Philadelphia where she was a stunning Isabella (and with no less than Juan Diego Florez as Lindoro!) is put on video or DVD. And I have the feeling that she might give even the astonishing Olga Borodina a serious run for her money as Carmen. Oh, and did I mention she does an absolutely socko rendition of 'Some People' from 'Gypsy'?
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