Returning to Carnegie Hall after a five-year absence, Peruvian tenor Juan Diego Flórez, accompanied by pianist Vincenzo Scalera, sang of love in many different forms in a program of art songs and arias spanning four centuries.
A disappointingly understated account of “O del mio dolce ardor”, Paris’ love song to Helen of Troy from Gluck’s Paride ed Elena, provided an inauspicious beginning. When it ended, Flórez dabbed his nose with a tissue, sipped some water, and explained that he had a cold but didn’t want to disappoint his fans by canceling. The tenor was more effective in the two 17th-century songs that followed – Giulio Caccini’s flowing madrigal Amarilli, mia bella, in which a lover begs his sweetheart to trust him, and Giacomo Carissimi’s Vittoria, mio core!, a celebration of freedom from love’s bondage. Though delivered with limited vocal power, they provided ample evidence of Flórez’s fearless agility, seamless legato and extraordinary dynamic control.
Rossini came next, starting with three miniatures from Péchés de vieillesse. L’esule, a brooding waltz, was filled with melancholic longing, while the evening serenade La lontananza, accompanied by hints of birdsong on the piano, displayed a fervent, high-flying finish. Scalera dispatched the capering Danse sibérienne solo, with suitable speed and flair. Two arias from familiar operas ended the set.
Things picked up considerably more after intermission, with Flórez’s singing seeming more powerful and his dramatic skills more evident. His high notes and superb diction revealed the singer’s anguish in “Linda! Si ritirò!... Se tanto in ira agli nomini” from Linda di Chamounix, and the hero’s distress in “Angelo casto e bel”, composed by Matteo Salvi for Donizetti’s unfinished opera Il duca d’Alba.
Scalera opened the Verdi section with a delicately embellished Romanza senza parole, a rare solo piano piece. The Duke of Mantua’s jaunty “Questa o quella” was peppered with just enough waggishness, and the crusader Gaston’s desperate “Je veux entendre” from Jérusalem, in impeccable French, replete with gorgeous high Cs.
More French arias followed with a touchingly lyrical aubade from Lalo’s Le Roi d’Ys, distinguished by an impressive octave leap, before a ravishing “Ah, lève-toi, soleil” from Roméo et Juliette.
A Puccini set began with Foglio d’album, a solo piano work composed in New York in 1907 or 1910. In Scalera’s hands, the directions Moderato, con affètto were observed with exceptional delicacy. A superbly passionate interpretation of the mysterious “Torna ai felici di” from Le Villi concluded the program, but the best was yet to come – in the encores.
Flórez offered seven. After tender renditions of two well-known Neapolitan songs came five in Spanish, Flórez accompanying himself on guitar in four. In two emblematic Peruvian works by Chabuca Granda he invited the audience to sing along, and some did, enthusiastically. But the most eloquent singing of the evening came in the heartrending performances of the more intimate selections – Carlos Gardel’s El día que me quieras, Tomás Méndez’s Cucurrucucú paloma, and the romanza No puede ser from Pablo Sorozábal’s zarzuela La taberna del Puerto, turning what had started unpromisingly into a satisfying recital.
