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Operawire, JANUARY 18, 2018 |
LOIS SILVERSTEIN |
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Liederabend: Los Angeles, The Broad Stage, 15. Januar 2018 |
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Jonas Kaufmann’s Musical Genius Comes to Fore in Schubert’s ‘Die Schöne Mullerin’ (Ausschnitt)
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The Tenor We All Dream Of
Kaufmann transforms the
cycle from pure lyric poem and song to dramatic presentation, showing once
again, how carefully he simultaneously couples narrative, emotion, and
musical richness. “Willkommen Liebes Bächlein,” welcome lovely brook,
welcomes him as performer and us as audience as well. Where are we? In the
intimate auditorium so artistically designed and alive, or in the natural
landscape which Kaufmann creates simply standing next to the fine
musicianship of Helmut Deutsch? We do not know nor do we inquire. Instead we
pursue the living embodiment of the young wanderer on this journey of heart.
A chance to sport in the woods as the tenor’s whole body – face, feet,
hands, eyebrows and toes embody the excitement of music alive and resonant.
That is one feature so moving about Kaufmann’s intelligent and aesthetic
singing… he brings the scene and the situation alive, and feelings with
conviction. It is a promise made by all great art, and which we who offer
ourselves to it, make again in each fine performance.
Kaufmanns
articulates individual words with special care, enunciation satisfies, and
emphasizes meaning. “Bleiben”, for instance in #7, “Ungeduld,” Impatience,
remain, or stay, he sings the delicate triplet to emphasize the faithfulness
he vows. Subtle and definitive, the idea, the meaning, the sound, he
compounds on purpose. And this followed by the plaintive, hymn-like “Guten
Morgen, schöne Müllerin,” a contrast that shows the young man’s
fastidiousness in not wanting to jar her – she “turns her little head” – he
wants to do it all perfectly, wanderer- lover- poet- and singer – caring for
each movement and gesture, facial, eyes bright and expressive, looking
abjest when he begins to see her turn from him. Oh surely she won’t reject
such a felicitous courting, will she?
That’s what stands out, stanza
after stanza, throughout the twenty-song cycle – through the “pianissimi”
Kaufmann offers, and the legato lines when he begins to lament in growing
awareness of the loss to come – “Mein Schats hat’s Grun so gern” – poet and
composer playing on the melancholy that contrast so strongly to his earlier
declaration in #11, MEIN, when he asserts, she IS HIS. Until he bursts out,
we have almost forgotten the volume Kaufmann’s voice possesses, what he has
in his store. When he begins to encounter hunter and the maiden’s shifting
hearts, even after he has dismissed his own earlier pining, which he thought
were great, until now, in comparison with this weight of love and
faithfulness and commitment, they are nothing.
All this variety is a
perfect vehicle for Kaufmann’s versatility. From opening buoyancy through
the colors of joy and celebration to despair and loss, he gives us a palette
of music that enlivens and entices in every word, the sweet and the bitter
flowing from the same source from within, always carefully estimated for
full and fragility of feeling. He embodies the whole, as if his body itself
sang, eyebrows to toes. He is not simply a teller or singer of the tale –
but, the music itself, and we listen as he links this to us and wherever the
song goes when it is gone.
But is it? Perhaps not. Just as the
concert was not… for six plus encores later, almost all German, except for
the the exquisite “Ombra di Nube,” in Italian, and the English translation
of “Dein Ist Mein Ganzes Herz,” while the audience clapping and clapping
wanting more and more. Gracious, he gave what they wanted, while trying to
sustain the mood and the magic of the Schubert he so skillfully conveyed;
but they wanted the volume and the luster that Kaufmann is also known for,
and brings from his tenor and operatic realm. Young members of the audience
seemed highly responsive to such immediacy of this glamour, the art songs an
acquired taste for some of them. Other audience members cheered vociferously
whatever he offered. And even so, it was hard to let any of it go, bouquets
of red and white and yellow roses were hardly enough to shower on both
Deutsch and Kaufmann for their artistic merit and gifts. “Gute Nacht,” Good
Night, Schubert’s last song, a lullaby, could have been apt closure to it
all, but the epilogue of encores threw it all into the commotion of high
song.
Still, the intimacy and quiet of the main music, as Kaufmann
himself said in his perfect English, the theater offered with its wonderful
acoustics. And us, who will hardly relinquish the beautiful cycle even for
the expansive depths of “Winterreise” and the languorous eroticism of
Strauss Lieder, what we can only imagine Schubert would have produced had he
lived longer than 31 years, several past the brilliant John Keats, and four
less than Shelley and Byron. All we can wish is that the still-in-his-prime
Jonas Kaufmann, 47, will continue to offer his substantial intelligent
artistry to us for many more years to come.
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