Joyce DiDonato at Carnegie Hall

Thanks to this marvelous, sometimes frustrating technology, I was able to watch it live in real time on Medici TV, so while not quite the same as actually being there, it's the next best thing . . . and a very good thing, too.

Applying the theme "A Journey Through Venice," to the program, allowed the mezzo and her marvelous pianist David Zobel to examine a wide spectrum of music devoted to one of earth's most celebrated cities. Through the music of Vivaldi, Rossini, Hahn, Faure and
Michael Head, DiDonato revealed why she's one of today's most versatile and unique singers, approaching everything with a freshness and sense of wonderment that is infectious to the listener, drawing one in as though being gently pulled by a friend from a large party into a side room for one-on-one.

So fluidly did DiDonato move through the two gorgeous, elegant arias from Vivaldi's "Ercole su'l Termodonte," "Onde chiare che sussurrate" and "Amato ben," which opened the recital, revealing a precision and elegance smoothly seguing from the virtuosity of the first into the delicate intimacy of the second, and applying a hushed intensity to this music that was breathtaking.

Hot on the heels (after a bit of banter from the singer) came Fauré's delightful set Cinq mélodies 'de Venise, the first of which feels more like Poulenc or Debussy than one usually gets from this frequently introspective composer. With her quick vibrato and slight reedy quality, DiDonato sounds almost as though born to sing French music and hearing this entire set made me curious to hear what she might do with his Pénélope. Whether or not that happens, more Fauré, please, Joyce, it suits you like an elegant glove.

The first half of the recital closed, and the second half began with Rossini, a composer one frequently identifies with this singer, his outsized La regata veneziana contrasting nicely with Desdemona's Assisa al piè d’un salice ... Deh, calma. Again a single composer providing two sides of the same coin and an opportunity for this singer to color, bend and stretch - to play with the music - in a manner many singers seem incapable of, or uncomfortable in doing.

A bit more banter ensued as DiDonato described Michael Head's Three Songs of Venice, written for Dame Janet Baker, and still sounding mighty good from another singer in the here and now.



The crown (for me) of the recital was "Venezia" the "Venice" set of Reynaldo Hahn, long one of my favorite songwriters. They were, of course, glorious sounding, with DiDonato interrupting herself to describe how, if time allowed she'd enjoy being able to change into a costume for "Che peca!": "I would go into a white sleeveless t shirt that's about 20 years old . . . a couple stains and holes, because I would be that man who sits on his porch . . . over the canal, and I envision this song with the man whose had a lot of pasta in his life and he likes a bad cigar, and he's had it . . . and this is what he would sing about." DiDonato struck a swagger-ish pose and presented a sort of artificial huskiness and sprechstimme (built into the song) that was hilarious, and felt natural and it was clear who was having the most fun of the night.

After a warm ovation, and before presenting her two encores, Rossini's "Canzonetta spagnuola" DeCurtis great hit "Non ti scordar di me," both marvelously sung, DiDonato spoke from the heart:

"I know I'm a bit of a Pollyanna about this, but when you look at the world today and it can get a little discouraging at times . . .right? This is our teacher, right here . . . because here we are of different gender, different religion, different politics, different everything . . . and yet in this moment there is harmony and there is peace. This is our teacher, and our goal is to take this that we create here and go out. So that's why . . . and I hope I'm not lecturing you all, I just want to share with you how amazing it is that we get to do this."

Amen, sister.

Colbran the Muse: DiDonato the Goddess

Fierce is just about the only word I can come up with so bowled over have I been by listening to this new disc from Madama DiDonato (on Virgin Classics).

It opens like gangbusters with the spectacular rondo "D'amore al dolce impero" from Armida - a very impressive way to open this recital, every minute of which is thrillingly AND gorgeously sung. DiDonato hurls her voice through coloratura that will practically make your head spin - showing off a more dazzling range than one usually encounters in a mezzo. Then again, she seems to be almost channeling Colbran.

The selections from "La Donna del lago" remind me of another mezzo I loved in this music; the young von Stade, with DiDonato possibly earning the laurel wreath here. Of course 35 years ago when Flicka was singing this music Rossini scholarship and performance standards were not quite what they are now, and she was singing it live (in Dallas) with an opera house orchestra in that old barn and recorded by pirates. In 2009 Ms. DiDonato has it considerably better - but none of that would matter if she couldn't sing this stuff and sing it she does - most impressively - and with high notes, grupetti, wild and fierce (there's that word again) variations that pose not a single problem. Her upward scale work in the finale is just nuts!

Putting away the fireworks for a minute, DiDonato summons up ravishing tone and pours her heart into Maometto II's "Giusto ciel in tal periglio" - I've heard many versions of this aria, and DiDonato virtually matches the tragic pathos that Sills brought to this in her La Scala debut, and with a similar quality that's both sunny and sad. The entrance of the chorus - then her decorated line is gorgeous (and I didn't even miss the impossible high note (D#?) Sills tacks in that makes me swoon). I DO miss that Maometto doesn't include the gorgeous cabaletta that follows (which Sills is ridiculously great in).

It's fun to hear the "e cento trappole prima di cedere" music from "Una voca poca fa" pop up in the middle of Elisabetta regina d'Inghilterra's "Quanto è grato all'alma mia" (or was it vice versa?) and Joyce and Co. make it soar.

It's also great to hear a nice chunk of Otello (aided beautifully by Lawrence Brownlee) making me wish this opera were more popular than it ever got to become (thanks a lot, Verdi!). I'm thinking SOMEONE needs to mount a production of this for these two. Talk about a hit!

Eduardo Muller leads the Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia forces in glorious, full blooded readings the orchestra playing as if to the manner born and the choristers, clearly inspired sing with the same infectious love for Rossini as their golden tressed collaborator.

I won't go into detail of every number here (you're welcome!) but the entire disc is so well conceived, so lovingly put together, the singer's phrasing, breath control and sense of drama is all so damned exciting it moves right to the top of this year's "favorites" pile!