The Italian singer Anna Caterina Antonacci made a rare appearance in New York, her third in four years, at Alice Tully Hall in a recital of French songs. The audience who braved the snow and cold was rewarded with a performance of exquisite intensity and unforgettable beauty.
From the moment of her appearance with her pianist Donald Sulzen, even before she opened her mouth, Ms Antonacci commanded attention with her quiet concentration. Her voice hardly needed any warm up as she plunged into her first selection, Berlioz's La mort d’Ophelie. Her high notes may not have a free extension of a soprano, but they were lyrical and clear, and her middle voice is dark and yet warm. The next selection of three songs by Debussy, Chansons de Bilitis, showed off Ms Antonacci’s clear and impeccable French diction as she began to draw the audience into the intimate world of her art song. The second song, La Chevelure (The Hair), with a lover telling a woman of a dream of having her hair around his neck, perhaps unintentionally anticipates the ending of La voix humaine, as the woman in the song winds the telephone chord around her neck.
After Duparc’s La vie antérieure came the highlight of the first half, a seven-song cycle La Fraîcheur et le feu by Poulenc. These songs of contrast, the coolness and the fire, challenged both the singer and pianist in their varying tempi and shifting scales. Ms Antonacci was particularly impressive in negotiating low passages, as in slow “Unis la fraicheur et le feu” and the ironic passage at the end of “Homme au sourire tendre”. The first half of the recital concluded with a heart-wrenching Yiddish song of mourning, Kaddish, by Ravel.
The songs in the first half, substantial and challenging as they were, were just a prelude to Poulenc's La voix humaine after the intermission. Ms Antonacci changed from a demure gown of black lace to a bright multi-colored long house coat. A plastic orange phone (without chord) was placed on a small glass table on stage. For the next 40 minutes or so, the hall was transformed into a bedroom of a woman conducting a desperate phone conversation with a lover who was leaving her. Ms Antonacci sang and acted the one-way phone conversation, accompanied by piano, in one of the most mesmerizing theatrical performances I have ever witnessed.
Those of us of a certain age remember the times when there was no cell phone, nor even an answering machine, to connect us to our significant others instantaneously. We would spend hours waiting anxiously by the phone that sometimes never rang. The anxiety, suspicion, vain hope, brief joy, despair and finally resignation of an end of a love affair in this old world were brilliantly captured by Jean Cocteau in his text, and set even more powerfully to music by Poulenc. It was helpful to have the English supertitles of the French text during this portion of the recital, to prevent any distracting page turning. The readily available translation of the text also brought more immediacy to the happenings on stage.