Susan Graham

My guest at mezzo Susan Graham’s recital with pianist Malcolm Martineau was there for a good reason. It was a reward for alerting me to this one-off concert by a marvelous singer who is – or was – pretty much unknown in Australia. Thanks to some compelling interviews word had got around, as the Melbourne Recital Centre had a near-full, enthusiastic house. Tall and blonde, in a simple draped white gown and considerable jewellery, Graham was an arresting figure even before she began to sing the opening “Tell me, some pitying angel” by Purcell. It was a surprising choice in a program dominated by Romantic pieces and art songs, but allowed Graham’s voice to be appreciated for its beauty of tone, true pitch, emotional power and virtuosity (in the work’s demanding runs). The empathy between Graham and long-time musical collaborator Martineau was also evident, with even more scope for the partnership in the next piece, Berlioz’s La Mort d’Ophelie, both singer and pianist making the most of their “sighs”. Martineau maintained the flowing effect of the piano to Graham’s almost impossible softness in a high register at the end. Martineau couldn’t help grinning at the singer and mouthing “Lovely” to her. The compliment could as easily been for the next six songs, all centring on the enigmatic Mignon, a figure created in Goethe’s Wilhelm Meister’s Apprenticeship. Graham presented versions of the myth as set to music by Schubert, Schumann, Liszt, Tchaikovsky, Duparc and Wolf. Having earlier sung in French as if it were her native tongue, Graham exploited the passion that German brought to the first two songs, with her effortless high notes most noticeable in the Schumann. The Liszt, in particular, allowed attention to be focused on Martineau, while Graham made the most of the dramatic intensity of the questions in the piece, “Knowest thou where?”. The empathy between the performers was also very evident in the lyrical ‘Mignon’s Romance’ by Duparc. (The audience wanted to break into applause but was smilingly hushed by Graham: “One more”, she whispered, with a finger to her lips.) This was the Wolf, operatic in feel and thus an insight into the full power and intensity of Graham’s voice, especially in the top notes before a suddenly hushed ending. It was a prelude to all the elements of Horovitz’s Lady Macbeth, the first work after interval which was a showcase for all the singer’s strengths: drama, diction, operatic stance and, above all, her rich powerful mezzo voice. Incidentally, Graham had changed into a slinky off-the-shoulder lurex gown for this half, and vamped it up as the crowd whistled its appreciation. (This being an Australian audience, there was the inevitable shout, “You go, girl!” from one admirer). At some point Graham pointed out (in case we’d missed it) that “The second half is about the not-so-good girl … We’ve come a long way from the Blessed Virgin Mary!” Poulenc’s song cycle Fiancailles pour rire was the perfect vehicle for Graham’s voice, this time showing off perfect phrasing, and for Martineau’s sympathetic accompaniment, especially in the drifting waltz, Violon. Graham convulsed the audience with her introduction to Ben Moore’s Sexy Lady (written for her), as she bewailed the fate of the mezzo, too often consigned to “pants roles”. Her humour also shone in Messager’s J’ai deux amants and an encore, “The boy from …”, every verse ending with the beloved’s village – Tacarembo La Tumbe Del Fuego Santa Malipas Zacatecas La Junta Del Sol Y Cruz” (‘Cruz’ pronounced as ‘cruth’ with ceceo) – until the singer lamented that he was moving to Wales to live in Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch! Bur for my guest (and me) the highlight was the first encore, Hahn’s Chloris, a simple song, sung beautifully. A five-star performance – like the rest of the recital. Rating: Five stars Susan Graham Susan Graham – mezzo-soprano Malcolm Martineau – piano Melbourne Recital Centre April 26