The customary style of a Rosenblatt Recital is to have one or two singers accompanied by a single pianist, a trend occasionally broken for when singers like Juan Diego Flórez or Leo Nucci feature who may have a chamber orchestra behind them. For mezzo-soprano Tara Erraught’s recital, we had something a little different: joining her on the Wigmore Hall platform with pianist James Baillieu was clarinettist Ulrich Pluta. The programme was divided along fairly typical lines; the second half featured well-known arias, while the first was devoted to a collection of songs, many of which are not regularly encountered.
Erraught appeared as a singer now at the height of her powers, blending an innate sense of musicality with a youthful voice and well honed technique. She started with three songs from Louis Spohr’s Deutscher Lieder. There’s a rather fun letter written by Wagner in 1845 to Spohr which begins “Most revered master” and goes on to wax in the most obsequious tones about the importance of Spohr to German opera. Ironically of course, the strength of Wagner’s music ended up all but obliterating the names of his contemporaries; a shame, because Spohr, as revealed in Erraught’s selection of his works, has a vitality of tone and his operas, Faust in particular, are worth hearing.
The selection didn’t offer Erraught much of a chance to really show off the bottom of her voice, but certain key features were obvious from the start. In Zwiegesang, she displayed a fine knack for shading each word with colour and meaning. Her diction and pronunciation, of both German and later Italian, were impeccable. Wach auf! the last of the Spohr songs was sung in convincingly seductive and playful tones. Erraught has expressive features, deployed to great dramatic effect, at one moment creased and wracked with distress, the next a study in delight – a real canvas of emotion that while subsidiary to the voice, offers an additional element in performance that makes her a captivating singer.