Tenor Kyle Stegall

A POET'S LOVE SONG CYCLE AT VOM FESTIVAL JULY 27

The tagline for the Valley of the Moon Music Festival's ninth season - "transformations: grand works on an intimate scale" - rang especially true for its eighth concert July 27. Intended to evoke the song evenings (liederabends) of Schumann's time, the evening was touted as an intimate salon presentation, complete with cafe table seating, a special Bee's Knees cocktail (redubbed the Elixir of Love - delicious and full of fresh flowers) foreshadowing the poetry and music of the evening - and splendid platters of fresh fruits and cheeses with a smattering of dessert. Unfortunately, the Hanna Center's auditorium smacks of the ubiquitous campus multi-use-type room, replete with uncomfortable lighting and gymnasium essence, which did little to aid that sense of intimacy. The audience, though adoring and rapt, was not large, adding to the cavernous feel of the place. 

Overall the performers and casual quality did manage to lend an air of intimate engagement. VOM's co-music director Eric Zivian and his long-time collaborator, tenor Kyle Stegall, presented a delicate and intricate rendering of Schumann's beloved Dichterliebe (A Poet’s Love) song cycle, Op. 48, from 1840, bookended by a pre-concert talk and a post-concert discussion with audience participation. During the 15-minute pre-show talk, Mr. Stegall explained the essence of lied (art song) to the audience, using carefully-chosen words like "casual", "less formal" and "fellowship", which helped to put us in the proper frame of mind.

"Dichterliebe" lasts a scant half-hour, and anyone who loves this gorgeous gem of sixteen little jewel-like songs, may ask for nothing more. I count myself amongst those who love this cycle, but I confess to feeling less satiated by the music than by the food and alcohol - a companion song cycle might have satisfied my musical appetite. During the post-concert talkback, Mr. Zivian was most effective in engaging the audience in a relaxed and congenial question and answer session.

And of the concert portion itself? The pairing of Mr. Zivian's period piano with Mr. Stegall's decidedly light tenor lent a gentle romantic quality to a song cycle most often associated with the lower male voice. Interestingly, the cycle was dedicated to Wilhelmine Schroder-Devrient, a friend of Schumann's brilliant wife Clara, and a Wagnerian. Whether she sang the Dichterliebe one cannot be sure, but the dedication does suggest that Schumann may have had the richer, more weighted vocal quality in mind. This duo chose to present the cycle in its original key, offering moments of true revelation, as the delicacy of the old piano and lightness of Stegall's tenor added a new dimension to certain passages, especially in the first four songs. That said, there were moments when the richness and depth of the baritone range was sorely missed. During the post-song cycle discussion Mr. Stegall identified his lower tones as "growls", which seemed to please some members of the audience, though not this reviewer.

Happily, what stood out during the first four or five songs was the almost tangible connection between these two performers, most especially during Song No. 4 ("Wenn ich in deine Augen seh"), as the two took us on a romantic journey from tenderness to high passion and back again. Occasionally the tenor employed an almost baritonal richness, as in the final note of Song No. 3 ("Die Rose, die Lilie, die Taube, die Sonne"). And again throughout No. 6 ("Im Rhein, im heiligen Strome") Mr. Stegall was well-supported by his pianist as he foreshadowed the poet's romantic - perhaps ironic - doom with rich and colorful tones indicative of a heavier voice. However, the light airiness of Mr. Stegall's tenor and Mr. Zivian's period instrument combined most convincingly to provide those legion moments of heartbreak, and tenderness abounded. Each time the songs turned inward, this delicate duo seemed particularly connected, as if performing as one instrument. Most especially in their rendering of Song No.12 ("Ein Jungling lebt ein Madchen"), where Mr. Stegall freed himself from a tendency toward outward pretence to become more internal and genuine, while Mr. Zivian perfectly blended with his pervasive graceful use of phrasing and dynamics.

The two excelled at these turning-point moments, as Stegall's light sky-blue tenor shifted into shades of burgundy, with the piano line following suit as far as the piano would allow. Song No. 5 ("Ich will meine Seele tauchen") illustrated this best, as the duo soared, and then dipped, then soared again in blended perfection. Stegall employed barely any voice in the slow passage - so delicate, and yet so well contrasted by Mr. Zivian's mastery of the song's piano postlude. In fact, the pianistic postludes throughout the cycle were rendered with a knowing mastery, attesting to the duo’s long and seasoned love affair with their artistic work.

Their approach to the final song (""Die alten, bosen Lieder") exemplified both the duo's strengths and its weaknesses: though Mr. Stegall employed a multitude of vocal colors, in the end his voice felt just a bit too light, that is, until the final two sung phrases, which were just about perfection itself. But then, as Mr. Zivian played the final postlude with exquisite sensitivity, Stegall gave himself up to some mimed histrionics, depicting the burial of his love (but not his lover), and then bidding it his final farewell. He may have felt his overwrought gestures were germain to the meaning, but they distracted from that final moment. Better had he simply turned back inward and listened with the rest of us to his own final thoughts and feelings.

The program was a musical and gustatory delight, rounded out by a standing ovation from the attentive audience.