Renée Fleming - Kudos

Renée Fleming, Barbican, review: 'a proper diva'

Renée Fleming, Barbican, review: 'a proper diva'

The Telegraph

February 6, 2016 By Ivan Hewett, Classical Music Critic

To hear Renée Fleming, possessor of the most sheerly beautiful soprano voice on the planet, is a treat we normally hope for only once in an evening. She arrives, bestows her magic, and departs. On this occasion she bestowed it twice, which was quite a coup for the BBC Symphony Orchestra. Before the interval she sang eight songs by Debussy, in recent orchestral arrangements by the seventysomething British composer Robin Holloway. After it came The Strand Settings, four songs on texts by the late American poet Mark Strand written for Fleming by Swedish composer Anders Hillborg.

These were the centrepieces in a concert which ravished the ears constantly, and at times stirred deeper feelings too. It was book-ended by two pieces of French orchestral gorgeousness, the first of which, Debussy’s evocation of a faun’s erotic dreams, L’Après-midi d’un Faun, is clearly a favourite of conductor Sakari Oramo. In the past he’s made the faun seem too post-coitally languorous for my taste, but on this occasion languor was offset by a bracing urgency. Oramo drew a similarly sharp contrast in the closing piece, the 2nd Suite from Ravel’s Daphnis & Chloe. It was daringly slow for the opening sunrise (the flutes twittering away in a dawn chorus), and correspondingly delirious in the final dance.

This proved what good shape the BBC SO is in right now, and they certainly played royally for Renée Fleming. Proper diva that she is, she appeared in two frocks: a light green one for the nature imagery and delicate shifting colours of the Debussy songs, and a deep indigo gown for the nocturnal stillness of The Strand songs (Fleming leaves nothing to chance). The difference in look was matched by the difference in vocal tone. Debussy’s songs touched on moods of melancholy or regret or rapture but never settled in them for long, and Fleming’s tone was similarly urgent and fleeting - an effect magnified by Holloway’s deft and suggestive orchestral colours and newly composed transitions.

Hillborg’s songs by contrast unfolded in huge unhurried paragraphs, Fleming trailing her phrases of memory and longing across the music’s static chords, like the stars against the night sky so beautifully evoked in the poems. Starry nights, huge "cosmic" chords, feelings of regret - how easily these elements could have congealed into something sentimental and facile. It’s a tribute to Fleming’s artistry, and Hillborg’s subtlety, that they never did.

Cleveland Orchestra gala with soprano Renee Fleming proves artistic, financial success

Cleveland Orchestra gala with soprano Renee Fleming proves artistic, financial success

The Plain Dealer

October 5, 2015 | By Mark Satola

CLEVELAND, Ohio -- Severance Hall played host to a lot of sartorial finery at Saturday night's black tie gala to raise money for the Cleveland Orchestra's music education and community outreach initiatives.

Eleven-hundred people dressed to the nines filled the auditorium to hear a short concert by the near-legendary soprano Renée Fleming in a program of mostly Viennese confections, with a little more substance by way of Richard Strauss's last opera, "Capriccio."

Music director Franz Welser-Möst was on the podium for the event, which proceeded without intermission and, including encores, lasted a little over an hour and a half.

The curtain went up to the overture from Wagner's only comedy, "Die Meistersinger," which Welser-Möst led at an unusually brisk pace that emphasized the music's dramatic impact but glossed over some of the textural delights that Wagner provided in his score.

The orchestra responded to Welser-Möst's fast tempo with dynamic and well-focused playing, and the whole business was over in what seemed like less than ten minutes, clearing the way for Fleming's arrival onstage in a peacock-blue off-the-shoulder gown.

The "Moonlight" orchestral interlude and Madeleine's concluding monologue from Strauss's "Capriccio" was an unusual choice for Fleming's first appearance, given that the interlude, though musically rich, left her onstage without much to do, though it was worth the wait when she finally gave voice to Madeleine's hall-of-mirrors dilemma.

Fleming's voice is a fine marvel, maintaining its creamy tone throughout her entire range, though at the lower end, her words were a little submerged in the shifting ocean of Strauss's orchestration. She conveyed Madeleine's bittersweet predicament with as much dramatic flair as is possible in a concert setting, and the orchestra, under Welser-Möst's sure hand, provided a rich nocturnal backdrop for this autumnal masterpiece.

While Fleming was backstage for a costume change, Welser-Möst led the orchestra in one of Johann Strauss Jr.'s more obscure waltzes, "From the Mountains." Written for one of the Strauss orchestra's countless tours — this one to Russia in 1864 — the waltz is a curious affair, with peculiarities of orchestration that would not remain over the years in Strauss's bag of tricks, such as a melody for high flute and bassoon that sounded more like Mahler than the Waltz King.

On her return to the stage, Fleming wore a close-fitting red gown with a gold scarf across her shoulders, which elicited exclamations from the audience. The second part of the program was devoted to items from Vienna's so-called Silver Age, with semi-popular songs by Franz Lehár, Rudolf Sieczynski and Johann Strauss Jr. by way of Viennese wunderkind Korngold.

Korngold's "Waltzes from Vienna" suite was arranged from his score for a 1930s operetta (filmed in 1934, curiously, by Alfred Hitchcock), and the song "I Often Wonder" set the tone for the subsequent numbers, including Sieczynski's "Vienna, City of My Dreams," "Why Have You Kissed Me Awake?" from Lehár's Friederike, and the oft-sung "Vilja Song" from Lehár's "The Merry Widow."

The lyric content of these songs is limited to the agonies of love and the delights of Vienna, but Fleming lifted them above their treacly sentiments with an extra measure of artistry and commitment.

Of course there were encores. "I'm in Love with Vienna," from the Dmitri Tiomkin score for "The Great Waltz" (1938) continued the whipped-cream tributes to Austria's capital. Real artistry made a final appearance in the second encore, a beautifully hushed rendition of Richard Strauss's "Morgen," which seemed to be preserved in crystal.

The thunderous ovations attested to the evening's musical success, but just as importantly, the benefit concert was a financial success as well, reaping $1.2 million for the orchestra's education and outreach projects.

Consistent mastery delivered with warmth and humour

The Sydney Morning Herald


Opera House, August 31


by Peter McCallum


Renee Fleming sings with a voice of immaculate finish and coloured richness, and uses it with expressive flexibility and lucidity that is almost without peer.


She captured the three songs of Ravel's Sheherazade with the most delicately sensual fluidity, leaning on each voluptuously rounded vowel like a meaningful caress.


These three songs are music of magical, exquisitely refined enchantment, evoking the allure of imagined lands (the "Asia" of the first song), distant sounds (the flute of the second) and disdainful strangers (in the third).


Fleming has consistent mastery over the entire range, yet each part has its own distinctive colour, like a river that gleams differently when the sun catches different parts of it.


The upper range opens out out with radiance and brightness while lower notes have the rich edge and resistance of polished stone.

Pianist Richard Bado​ realised the textural and harmonic piquancy of the piano part deftly, belying its considerable complexity.

In the haunting Bailero from Canteloube's Chants d'Auvergne​, a call-and-response song depicting lovers across a river, she attenuated the answering voice with soft clarity imparting a sense of lonely distance.


The lullaby Brezairola​ was of lulling sweetness. The first half ended with the Jewel song from Faust. Its silent representation as a showstopper of the formidable Bianca Castafiore in Tintin comics no doubt has encouraged many to imagine it quite a blast, but Fleming tossed it off with light caprice.

After regal blue in the first half, Fleming donned resplendent white for an deeply thoughtful delivery of the Marschallin's soliloquy from Strauss' Der Rosenkavalier​, followed by stirring affirmation, ending with wild elation for Zueignung.


A bracket of Italian songs ensued. In an aria from Mascagni's l'Amico Fritz, she held long expressive notes of searing intensity with a bright edge rounded by vibrato to give an effect of cavernous depth and expressive force.


Tosti's Aprile​ was graciously shaped with generous warmth, while Puccini's O Mio Babbino Caro had fine simplicity.


Fleming finished with four songs from The King and I, which she sung with microphone, not to increase the volume which needed no assistance, but to remove operatic projection from the sound to get closer to what Rogers and Hammerstein intended.

Yet the unassisted operatic sound suits her best. Such complete vocal mastery is rare yet all was delivered here with homely warmth and occasionally sharp humour.

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