Soprano Returns, Bellini and Komitas in Tow

March 11, 2008

By ALLAN KOZINN

Isabel Bayrakdarian’s latest major appearance in New York was to have been singing Susanna in the Metropolitan Opera’s production of “Le Nozze di Figaro” in October. But Ms. Bayrakdarian, very pregnant at the time, bowed out. On Saturday evening, five months later and one child lighter, this Armenian-Canadian soprano, supported by her husband and pianist, Serouj Kradjian, was in fighting trim, or at least fine voice, in a recital at Zankel Hall.

Ms. Bayrakdarian seems fond of balancing standard repertory with rarities. In a 2006 recital at the Morgan Library & Museum, she offered selections by Pauline Viardot, Rossini art songs and flamenco-tinged pieces by Fernando Obradors. This time, she retained elements of that formula. The Italian-opera-composer-as-miniaturist slot was given to Bellini. In place of Viardot, the underexposed curiosity was the Armenian composer Komitas. And Obradors was back, represented by a different group of works.

Ms. Bayrakdarian began with an alluringly dark-hued rendering of Bellini’s “Vaga luna, che inargenti,” and more extroverted readings of “Per pietà, bell’idol mio” and “La Ricordanza.” In the last, her dynamics were fluid, particularly in her upper range. She took risks, but they paid off: her performance, subtle on the surface, had an electrifying undercurrent.

She also took an unusual approach to Poulenc’s “Banalités,” opting for bright timbres and crisp enunciation instead of the smoky, muted tone singers typically bring to 20th-century French music. Usually, the smoky approach works just fine; both the texts and the music seem to suggest it. But Ms. Bayrakdarian’s altered perspective put these songs in a fresh light.

She closed the first half of her program with two visions of Shakespeare’s Ophelia. Jake Heggie’s accessible “Songs and Sonnets to Ophelia” (1999) wraps a dramatic, shapely cloak around four poems by Edna St. Vincent Millay, and Ms. Bayrakdarian made them sound graceful and likable. But she did Mr. Heggie no favor by putting his work beside her thoughtfully shaped, trenchant account of Berlioz’s “Mort d’Ophélie.”

Ms. Bayrakdarian made a strong case for five invitingly modal songs by Komitas, among them the pained “Call to the Sea” and a sweetly turned lullaby. She also did a lovely job of highlighting the folkloric accents within Ravel’s “Five Popular Greek Melodies,” and closed her program with five endearingly melismatic, sun-drenched Obradors songs.

A Tour of Talent

March 10, 2008

By JAY NORDLINGER

For several years, Isabelle Bayrakdarian has been a familiar sight on the opera stage. She is especially prized for her Mozart roles, including Zerlina ("Don Giovanni") and Pamina ("The Magic Flute"). But, on Saturday night, the Armenian-Canadian soprano was on the recital stage — that of Zankel Hall. She sang a varied program that called on six languages.

She began with three songs of Bellini, starting with the beloved "Vaga luna." In her voice was an aliveness, a kind of quiver. Her voice has taken on richness and heft. Since when? Since she was a slip of a girl under the wing of the Marilyn Horne Foundation.

In "Vaga luna," we heard those little tugs that the music wants. Ms. Bayrakdarian sang all her Bellini songs with appropriate emotion — while respecting bel canto style. The third song, "La ricordanza," had considerable pathos. It was not some dainty antique exercise.

And the pianist, Serouj Kradjian — another Armenian Canadian — played capably and stylishly. He and the soprano are married.

Next came a set of Poulenc, his "Banalités," composed in 1940. In some of these songs, Ms. Bayrakdarian would have done well to exhibit more coolness — Gallic coolness. And "Hôtel" should have been sultrier. But "Sanglots" was excellent, expressing the right drama. This song might be considered a study for Poulenc's great opera of 1957, "The Dialogues of the Carmelites."

In the late 1990s, Jake Heggie — the American composer born in 1961 — wrote a set called "Songs and Sonnets to Ophelia." He fashioned the first poem himself; the other three he left to Edna St. Vincent Millay. Starting out, Ms. Bayrakdarian was direct and dear. But in the third song, "Not in a Silver Casket," she was more formidable than that. She turned on what you might call operatic power, including a thrilling A and B at the end. And the pianist, throughout the set, proved smooth and virtuosic.

I might mention that Millay's poem "Spring" must be the darkest poem on that subject ever written. (It begins, "To what purpose, April / Do you return again?") Indeed, the poem might be called "Anti-Spring."

Continuing her theme, Ms. Bayrakdarian then sang "La mort d'Ophélie" of Berlioz. She had the pacing, and the drama. But, in certain lines, she might have been warmer, altering her well-focused poise (vocal poise). And Mr. Kradjian, I must say, was exceptionally sensitive in his phrasing.

After intermission, the musicians looked to the Old Country, performing five songs by the composer known as Reverend Gomidas (actual name: Soghomon Soghomonian). Ms. Bayrakdarian sang these Armenian songs with evident affection and appreciation. And it was interesting to hear music in this interesting language. One song, "I cannot dance" — "I cannot cannot cannot dance" — was imbued with a marvelous Orientalism (if that word is still permitted).

Have you ever heard Ravel's "Five Popular Greek Melodies" sung by a woman? This is very rare. Even rarer is to hear them sung in Greek, rather than French. And this is what Ms. Bayrakdarian did. I'm not sure I had ever heard anything at all sung in Greek, on a classical stage. I believe the same goes for Armenian. In any case, Ms. Bayrakdarian handled her Ravel astutely, sensuously, and successfully. Trite as it is to say, these songs were redolent of Greece.

And, to close the printed program, a Spanish set: five songs — five hits — of Obradors. The soprano was sufficiently flavorful, and she often spat out her words, in the desired style. "El vito" was unusual: slower than we are used to hearing it. But not ineffective. And, all through this set — as all through the recital — Mr. Kradjian showed no little technique. But he wears his technique lightly, which is how technique should be worn.

Speaking of technique: I have not mentioned much about Ms. Bayrakdarian's pitch and the like. These matters were largely in the bag; she is a solid, smart, and well-prepared singer. And she gave a most enjoyable — even instructive — recital on Saturday night. Indeed, you could say that her recital did what a voice recital ought to do: provide a kind of tour, and showcase the talents and personality of a winning artist.