I have been listening to two albums of the Baroque genre, showcasing two technically accomplished and aurally extrovert performers of dare I say it, the same fach, namely Joyce DiDonato and Simone Kermes. Miss DiDonato may identify herself as a mezzo-soprano, but what I hear in her voice is a short soprano, of the same ilk as Frederica von Stade, Magdalena Kožená and the early Cecilia Bartoli (the post-milennium Bartoli is another monster altogether). And that's okay in my books, I love these type of singers. There's always something very heart-aching in their voices - to be technical, this is because their vibrato rates are rapid, flickering, so you'd never mistake it for an instrument the way more seasoned Baroque performers like say, Vivica Genaux and Simone Kermes herself, can be.
Miss DiDonato's Drama Queens is a respectable effort. Alan Curtis leads the Complesso Barocco: they are known quantities. As is often nowadays in fashionable Baroque compilations, this album includes world premiere recordings such as Madre diletta, abbriacciami from Giovanni Porta's Ifigenia in Aulide and rarities like Keiser's Fredegunda and Octavia excerpts. The album opens with Da torbida procella from Orlandini's Berenice, a spitfire of an aria. Miss DiDonato's timbre, with that slightly acerbic edge, helps her especially with the text. On the other hand one often finds her voice swamped under the orchestration (surprising, considering she's singing Strauss' Composer and Octavian to rave reviews) and when she pulls the straight voice it sounded almost jarring. The coloratura holds no terror for her, but I notice she performs slightly better in the middle voice compared to her upper range, consistent with many observations that her topmost notes are not of the same quality as they used to be.
I find the Giulio Cesare in Egitto excerpt to be wanting. There are stretches when the vibrato simply vanished from the voice and we're left with a wisp of a voice. Cleopatra is an empress not a lady-in-waiting: her grieve should have been gigantic, awe-inspiring, not simply human. The middle section, while fury-laden enough, is not in the same class as Kermes' version in her Cuzzoni tribute album. Another Cleopatra-inspired piece, Hasse's Morte, col fiero aspetto is miles better, with Miss DiDonato's voice climbing up and up as if challenging her passagio to a duel. Her mini-cadenza, before the coda, is also very beautiful.
Miss DiDonato seems to have a preference for the Porta aria. While I find her approach to the siciliana wonderful, I find her most delectable, however, in Intorno all'idol mio, a very famous piece included in the Arie antiche collection. There is a powerful moment when her straight voice is employed to implore the wind to bring her kisses to her estranged lover. The recitative in the middle is exemplary work, and her final Addio's are heart-wrenching. I do believe she sustains a 30-second F# piano at the end of the piece.
On to Miss Kermes. Opening her album Dramma is an excerpt from De Majo's Arianna e Teseo. One hears a strange trick: as if the orchestra is playing over the phone, or from an old phonograph, before cresting in a wonderful forte. What a clever duck! I don't know whether it's better balance, equipment, acoustics or player spacing, but I find the sound from La magnifica comunità to be more aurally persuasive than that of Il complesso barocco. For example, the introduction to Le limpid'onde is absolutely atmospheric I expected to hear chirping birds and rushing brooks every time I hear it.
The Kermes instrument may be a controversial one - especially live - but her album efforts are always worthwhile, and I always find it very surprising when a very slender timbre such as hers can find the coloration for example, in Tace l'augello from Porpora's L'Agrippina, and the famous Rinaldo piece Lascia ch'io pianga. For coloratura-fanciers, Miss Kermes does not disappoint in arias like Vedra turbato il mare, where her downward runs figure very wonderfully. In Sul mio cor, one finds her defying gravity with octave leaps and excursion into chest voice, all within the first four measures of her entrance.
That is not to say Dramma is a perfect essay. One finds the timbre to be a bit blanche and jarring. On the other hand it is no less expressive. The top notes can sometimes sound glassy, shrill-ish even. But the larger picture remains intact, that Dramma is a wonderful album and worthy of any Baroque fans' shelves.
Miss DiDonato's Drama Queens is a respectable effort. Alan Curtis leads the Complesso Barocco: they are known quantities. As is often nowadays in fashionable Baroque compilations, this album includes world premiere recordings such as Madre diletta, abbriacciami from Giovanni Porta's Ifigenia in Aulide and rarities like Keiser's Fredegunda and Octavia excerpts. The album opens with Da torbida procella from Orlandini's Berenice, a spitfire of an aria. Miss DiDonato's timbre, with that slightly acerbic edge, helps her especially with the text. On the other hand one often finds her voice swamped under the orchestration (surprising, considering she's singing Strauss' Composer and Octavian to rave reviews) and when she pulls the straight voice it sounded almost jarring. The coloratura holds no terror for her, but I notice she performs slightly better in the middle voice compared to her upper range, consistent with many observations that her topmost notes are not of the same quality as they used to be.
I find the Giulio Cesare in Egitto excerpt to be wanting. There are stretches when the vibrato simply vanished from the voice and we're left with a wisp of a voice. Cleopatra is an empress not a lady-in-waiting: her grieve should have been gigantic, awe-inspiring, not simply human. The middle section, while fury-laden enough, is not in the same class as Kermes' version in her Cuzzoni tribute album. Another Cleopatra-inspired piece, Hasse's Morte, col fiero aspetto is miles better, with Miss DiDonato's voice climbing up and up as if challenging her passagio to a duel. Her mini-cadenza, before the coda, is also very beautiful.
Miss DiDonato seems to have a preference for the Porta aria. While I find her approach to the siciliana wonderful, I find her most delectable, however, in Intorno all'idol mio, a very famous piece included in the Arie antiche collection. There is a powerful moment when her straight voice is employed to implore the wind to bring her kisses to her estranged lover. The recitative in the middle is exemplary work, and her final Addio's are heart-wrenching. I do believe she sustains a 30-second F# piano at the end of the piece.
On to Miss Kermes. Opening her album Dramma is an excerpt from De Majo's Arianna e Teseo. One hears a strange trick: as if the orchestra is playing over the phone, or from an old phonograph, before cresting in a wonderful forte. What a clever duck! I don't know whether it's better balance, equipment, acoustics or player spacing, but I find the sound from La magnifica comunità to be more aurally persuasive than that of Il complesso barocco. For example, the introduction to Le limpid'onde is absolutely atmospheric I expected to hear chirping birds and rushing brooks every time I hear it.
The Kermes instrument may be a controversial one - especially live - but her album efforts are always worthwhile, and I always find it very surprising when a very slender timbre such as hers can find the coloration for example, in Tace l'augello from Porpora's L'Agrippina, and the famous Rinaldo piece Lascia ch'io pianga. For coloratura-fanciers, Miss Kermes does not disappoint in arias like Vedra turbato il mare, where her downward runs figure very wonderfully. In Sul mio cor, one finds her defying gravity with octave leaps and excursion into chest voice, all within the first four measures of her entrance.
That is not to say Dramma is a perfect essay. One finds the timbre to be a bit blanche and jarring. On the other hand it is no less expressive. The top notes can sometimes sound glassy, shrill-ish even. But the larger picture remains intact, that Dramma is a wonderful album and worthy of any Baroque fans' shelves.
