English soprano has got looks ... and a voice too!

Author: Andrew Throdahl

In recent years, a new breed of dramatic soprano has surfaced in the opera world. The factor that distinguishes these women from sopranos of the past is an "advertisability" ­- an at-times artificial resemblance to Hollywood starlets. Their voices have always struck me as incongruous to their looks. In the case of Anna Netrebko, perhaps the most famous living soprano, comparison has been drawn (like her idol Maria Callas) to such beauties as Audrey Hepburn. Netrebko, who rose from janitor to opera star in a matter of years, has been oscillating between the art world and the pop world, one minute posing for magazines, the next singing Il Puritani at the Metropolian Opera. This melding of beauty and voice has been lucrative. Apparently tickets to her Salzburg Traviata skyrocketed to 2,000 Euros apiece.

Kate Royal, who is prettier than Netrebko in looks and in voice, could be deemed opera's new "it" girl, to use a tacky Hollywood expression. In last Tuesday's concert in the Mahaney Center for the Arts Concert Hall, Royal displayed her wide ranging repertoire and tastes, while striking an uncanny resemblance to Angelina Jolie. Accompanied by veteran accompanist Roger Vignoles, the program traveled geographically from Spain to France, ending in Austria with a thrilling selection of Strauss lieder.

Rather than just belting out the tunes, Royal seemed to have made conscious decisions regarding timbre. Her clarity seemed intentionally murky in Rodrigo's "Cuatro Madrigales Amatorios," which opened the evening. Her voice succeeded here in meshing with the heavily pedaled piano part. She treated each movement of the cycle, as she did in the rest of the program, with a different character or personification. Certainly, she is an opera singer even outside of the opera house. Her sassy expressions in the third song of the cycle ("De donde venis, amore?") were effectively comic.

The French selection, three songs and one concert aria by Debussy, was, surprisingly, sappier than the Rodrigo. Surely Debussy is at his softest when embalmed by a fellow symbolist. In "Cinq Poemes de Charles Baudelaire," Royal expressed what seemed to be genuine rapture. Her gorgeous, fluffy diction felt quite at home in French. There was an element of her articulation in the sublime quality to the way she delivered the line, "Je sais l'art d'evoquer les minutes heureuses," in "Le Balcon" (1888).

The piano transcription of Lia's aria from L'Enfant prodigue was either not thriving in Vignoles fingers, or was just awkwardly transcribed. It may have been better if Royal and Vignoles had just done the whole Baudelaire set and opted out of the transcription. That said, the aria stood out as one of the more lyrically moving in the first half.

The obscure songs of Joseph Canteloube, written entirely in Provencal, were interesting to hear, if only for the folksy blood Royal extracted from them. The tongue-twisting lyrics of "Lou Boussu" were a virtuosic feat in their own right. A skeptic might argue that "folksy" only implies less classical control, but from the way Vignoles scrambled through the complex piano part, it seemed some casual aplomb is needed just to get through these pieces.

In the closing lieder by Richard Strauss, ("Kornblumen," "Mohnbluhmen," "Epheu," "Wasserrose," "Einerlei," "Ich wollt ein Strausslein binden" and "Als mir dein Lied erklang!") her voices exploded with Wagnerian character. The ecstasy in these examples of Strauss' early output suited Royal well. While Royal came alive, it seemed Vignoles struggled. The piano sounded too harsh, at times even messy.

Later in her career Royal could probably make a terrific Arabella, Sophie (from Der Rosenkavalier) or Countess (in Capriccio), given the flexibility, control and clarity of her singing. I would be all too eager to hear her sing Wagner, and the role of Eva in Die Meistersinger might be a nice diving point. It is comforting to know that a voice of the calibre of Gundula Janowitz or Regine Crespin has also made it past the image-centered marketing of today's classical music world.