As the Proms drew to a close, the Wigmore Hall season began with two extremely fine recitals on consecutive nights. Friday’s opening concert was given by Sarah Connolly and Malcolm Martineau. Schumann’s Hans Christian Andersen lieder, from his Op 40 set, and Mahler’s Rückert Lieder formed the evening’s first half. French music came after the interval.
A restrained, subtle communicator, Connolly is often at her most engaging in recital, though on this occasion she took a few minutes to settle, with an occasional edge creeping into her high notes near the start, as if her voice was not quite fully warmed up. Fierce declamation captured the angst of Schumann’s Andersen settings, which deal with such harrowing subjects as infant mortality and death by firing squad. Carefully shaded soft singing and a fine sense of line characterised much of the Mahler, though she began Um Mitternacht at slightly too intense a level, not leaving herself quite enough dynamic or emotional space for the climactic final stanza to hit home as forcefully as it might. But Ich bin der Welt Abhanden Gekommen was beautifully done, the closing pianissimos hovering exquisitely.
Connolly is wonderful in French song, and the finesse and emotional range she brought to Berlioz’s Les Nuits d’Été were often remarkable: Le Spectre de la Rose combined sincerity with understated brilliance; Sur les Lagunes, the cycle’s heart of darkness, had an operatic weight and intensity, with Martineau maintaining its steady barcarolle rhythm with almost obsessive persistence. The performance of Debussy’s suggestive Chansons de Bilitis that followed was equally compelling, with Connolly offsetting textual indecency with remarkable purity of utterance, and Martineau mining the accompaniments for all they were worth. Poulenc’s Banalités brought the programme to a close, its sad wit and brittle humour finely judged.
Saturday’s recital was given by the Finnish soprano Soile Isokoski. Ilkka Paananen was her pianist, an incisive player with a keen sense of drama. Isokoski started tentatively with Schubert’s Der König in Thule, and we had to wait a few minutes before we heard her voice in all its beauty. Her tone has darkened a bit of late, particularly in the lower registers, which in turn has deepened her artistry at its finest: Mephistopheles’s sinister recitatives in Schubert’s Szene aus Faust had a baleful weight that was unexpected and almost shocking.
Ridente la Calma revealed that she no longer floats Mozart’s lines with quite the elegance that she once did, but in compensation she gave us some simply astonishing Brahms. Von Ewiger Liebe was rapt and ecstatic, her voice sounding glorious over its full dynamic range. Finnish music, as one might expect, is integral to her repertory. She was passionate in Sibelius’s Sigh, Rushes, Sigh and Black Roses. Songs by Yrjö Kilpinen – which have genuine charm and at best a timeless balladic quality – brought the recital to a close, done with great poise and quiet, deeply affecting tenderness.
