Fin-de-siècle fantasies: Renee Fleming, Jeremy Denk, & the Emerson Quartet

Adele Bloch-Bauer I: Gustav Klimt, 1907

Saturday, May 4 saw the last night of Renee Fleming's "Perspectives" series at Carnegie Hall, and its inventive programming and insightful delivery spoke well both for the artist and for the series concept. The selection and arrangement of pieces resisted any teleological or excessively literal interpretation of how the music represented the window to modernity of the program's title. Intricately interwoven, the selections proved mutually illuminating, with several texts in multiple settings, and sensibilities and styles ranging from the full, complex romanticism of Brahms through the lush sensuality of Strauss and Wagner to sharp minimalism. Two of the composers (Wellesz and Zeisl) were new to me; another reminder of the extraordinary artistic ferment of Vienna around the turn of the twentieth century. The artistry of Fleming, Denk, and the Emerson Quartet was likewise not merely intelligent, but itself creative.

And the dark became desire: Renée Fleming and the NYPhil at Carnegie Hall

The centerpiece of Friday evening's Carnegie Hall concert was unquestionably Anders Hillborg's The Strand Settings, a song cycle commissioned by the New York Philharmonic for Renée Fleming, and receiving its world premiere. Just as unquestionably, the occasion was an event: the buzz of audience chatter proclaimed eager anticipation in several languages. The performance, in its energy and subtlety, gratified this anticipation not only in the haunting, lapidary lieder, but in surprisingly nuanced and insightful accounts of two repertory staples. The programming of Respighi's Fountains of Rome and the Mussorgsky/Ravel Pictures at an Exhibition alongside Hillborg's work helped me hear each of the familiar works differently.

Belle Époque, beau soir: Fleming and Graham at Carnegie Hall

A recital by either Renée Fleming or Susan Graham is invariably an eagerly anticipated event; the Carnegie Hall recital which the two divas gave jointly was an evening in which their musical and personal chemistry made enchanting a journey through the salon music of the Belle Époque, with a few detours on to its operatic stage. Images from the concert may be found here. Since Graham and Fleming's off-stage personae (and relationship) are so well known, I thought the device of having them act as hosts of their own salon evening, providing historical background (and naughty anecdotes!) concerning the works presented, was a clever and effective one. Historian that I am, I was delighted to learn more of Mary Garden and Sybil Sanderson, as well as charmed by the women who so ably sang the repertoire created for them (full program here.)

Höheres gilt es als Zeitvertreib

Kaiser and Fleming; (c) Ken Howard/Metropolitan Opera

Wort oder Ton? Ton und Wort... The Met's elegant Capriccio helped me understand better how Richard Strauss' last opera could be both a concatenation of playful jokes about the operatic genre, with heavy helpings of Straussian irony, and a thoughtful exploration of some of the unresolved (unresolvable?) questions of how opera--and all art--moves us, and why.  In the hands of an accomplished cast, the conversation in this conversation piece seemed both witty and genuinely-felt, rather than merely self-absorbed (this was a problem I had while merely reading the libretto and listening to recordings, I admit. And yes, I realize how funny it is that that should be the case with this particular opera.)  I may never become a devotee of Renee Fleming, but I think she's at her best in Strauss, and her diva-charisma was of not insignificant importance to creating a credible Madeleine.  Those in the countess's orbit ranged from creditable to excitingly good, so I had a lovely night, though I never experienced the quasi-mystical emotional release Madeleine extols.

Winterweihe: Renée Fleming at Carnegie Hall

The United States Postal Service has its unofficial credo to motivate it; opera fans have... well, what makes them opera fans.  Snow descending on New York City and making me very relieved to be safely home via a still-functioning subway could not deter the diva-devotees who packed Carnegie Hall for Renée Fleming's recital.  I have to confess that I couldn't call myself a diva-devotee, but I was not about to miss a program of Schoenberg, Zemlinsky, Korngold, R. Strauss, and a new Brad Mehldau cycle with Rilke texts (detailed program notes here.)  I'll state my biggest reservation at the outset: I kept losing Fleming's consonants, and I found this both distressing and frustrating.  Carnegie Hall generously provided their usual texts and translations, but still.  I don't know whether this is an issue of general Textdeutlichkeit, or a peculiarity of phrasing, because I experienced a shadow of the same problem with the English-language songs.  Fortunately, this did not vitiate Fleming's ability to communicate musically, and I was impressed both by the bold program, and by Fleming's commitment to the emotional arc of the selections.