It's always a pleasure to welcome Lawrence Brownlee back to the Bay, particularly in recital (this is his third for San Francisco Performances), as I believe his most recent appearance at the Opera (just across the War Memorial complex from Herbst Theater, where he performed on Thursday) was in that unworthy vehicle Don Pasquale, which is my nominee for Worst Opera Libretto of All. Brownlee was accompanied by pianist Kevin Miller, & provided a wide-ranging evening with a dazzling number of long-held as well as soaringly high notes. He must have been exhausted by the end, particularly as he mentioned jet-lag from just flying in from the United Arab Emirates, but he gave no signs of any exhaustion, physical or vocal, & the enthusiastic audience was clearly energized by the art & athleticism on display.
He opened with a set of five lieder by Joseph Marx, one of those late Romantic composers who eschewed Modernist innovations, preferring to dwell among the increasingly old-fashioned (at the time) dappled uncertainties & tumescent longings of the last century's turning. The songs were lovely & unfamiliar, though their subject matter was certainly reminiscent of Lied-Land: linden blossoms & longing, nights of love perfumed by roses, dell-dancing sprites, nostalgia & hope. The set opened with Nocturne, proceeded to Selige Nacht (Blissful Night), then Die Elfe (The Elf), Christbaum (Christmas Tree) – a recollection of childhood memories of Christmases past, with a delicately icy accompaniment reminiscent of traditional carols hovering over it – & finally Hat dich die Liebe berührt (If Love Has Touched You), ending on a note of personal affirmation.
After this set Brownlee spoke to the audience; he is a genial & chatty host. He gave us the background for the second set of songs, which would complete the first half: during the pandemic, as he considered new projects, & in the wake of the murder of George Floyd, he conceived the idea that became his recent album Rising, a collection of new songs by Black American composers based on Harlem Renaissance texts (at least, those in the public domain; for copyright reasons, he wasn't able to include Zora Neale Hurston). For Thursday's concert he added a number related to but not officially part of the project, a setting by Jeremiah Evans of Langston Hughes's April Rain Song, a lyrical evocation of Spring showers that formed a nice aesthetic contrast to the sloppy weather that has been sweeping through the Bay Area the past few days.
We also heard Peace, an imploring invocation by Jasmine Barnes to a text by Georgia Douglas Johnson, I Know My Soul, a stirring setting by Brandon Spencer of a text by Claude McKay, Vocalise III by Carlos Simon, a lively & tricky number that Brownlee introduced with a pause, saying he needed to start counting; Beauty That Is Never Old & The Gift to Sing, two settings by Damien L Sneed of texts by James Weldon Johnson, the first an intimate evocation of the sheltering strength of personal love & the second a hopeful proclamation of the power of art, in this case song, to see us through life & its many difficulties. Then we had Romance by Shawn E Okpebholo, a setting of sweet & erotic words by Claude McKay, which Brownlee introduced by saying that while tenors like him can vocally go high, they don't always live high, but this song required him to live up there: again, there was no sense of strain as he stayed up in those heights, & that elevated tessitura gave a heady & on-rushing sense of romantic passion to the setting. Finally we had a setting by Joel Thompson of My People by Langston Hughes, a Whitman-like celebratory catalogue celebrating Black American life that included a wonderful sort of laughing chorus at the end. It wasn't necessary to follow along in the texts, so exemplary & telling was the singer's diction.
It was during one of the quieter moments of this final set that someone in the audience dropped I don't know what, but it made a very loud sound as it landed. Other than that audience annoyances were mostly of the "very excited" variety, as in the two old biddies a few rows behind me who kept squealing at the long-held high notes. The most egregious audience offense, though, was the old clown who tried to sneak into the seat behind me during intermission with his dog. Yes, a goddam dog. & no, this was not a service animal (he didn't even claim it was an "emotional support" animal, not that I accept that that is a real thing that needs to be foisted on other people, particularly in a concert hall). I cannot even begin to understand the sense of entitlement there. I made it clear that his goddam dog was not welcome near me.
So now we reconvene for the second half of the recital, in which Brownlee explored the Italian operatic repertory for which he is famous. He coupled an aria with a song by four composers: Verdi, Donizetti, Rossini, & Bellini. Brownlee of course is celebrated for his mastery of the bel canto line; he has amazing breath control, but he also can summon an expressive quality, often plangent, that shapes the virile core of his sound. I should also mention the attentive & powerful accompaniment by Miller throughout; there was a lot of byplay between the two performers & they clearly have a simpatico working relationship. From Verdi we had Ad una Stella (To a Star), followed by a ringing & witty version of La donna è mobile, the Duke's ironic aria from Rigoletto. From Donizetti we had the song Me voglio fa'na casa (I Want to Build a House), followed by Allegro io son (I'm so happy) from Rita. Before introducing the Rossini duo, Brownlee noted how important that composer has been to his career, &, as it was Leap Day, wished him a happy birthday. The Rossini song was La lontananza (The distance), one of Rossini's Sins of Old Age, & the aria was D'ogni piu sacro impegno (Then, let all faith be broken) from L'occasione fa il ladro; as with the Donizetti, it was enjoyable to hear something a bit unusual rather than one of the more obvious greatest hits from this composer. The final numbers from our Italian quartet were Bellini's La ricordanza (Recollection) & Nel furor delle tempeste (In the fury of the tempests) from Il pirata. Brownlee & Miller reminded us why Bellini was famed for flowing & beautiful melodies. There was one encore, Someone's Crying Lord, Come by Here, whose pleas for heavenly help for the afflicted are accompanied by a surprisingly jaunty tune. It was a rich & generous evening that Brownlee & Miller gave us.
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