Elliott and Whelan

Press, 21 May 1988, Page 8

Elliott and Whelan

Deirdre Elliott (Mezzo-soprano) and Paul Whelan (Bass), sponsored by Mobil, in the James Hay Theatre, May 20, at 8 p.m. Reviewed by Paul Goodson. I enjoy going to recitals by young performers. This is partly out of professional curiosity, for as a critic it is expedient for me to keep abreast of emerging talent and also to have an opportunity of assessing standards — particularly at a national level. More to the point, I am frequently struck by the degree of maturity and poise which these young artists have attained after comparatively restricted exposure and concert experience. This was certainly the case with Deirdre Elliott, who has a highly developed stage presence that enables her to enact rapid changes in musical temperament with great flair. She has a very fine voice as well; a rich, uniform concentration of tone right through the range,' just peaking a little at the upper extremity, and already producing sustained high volume levels with ease. Paul Whelan, too, has a commanding demeanour, but is less yielding and more declamatory in approach, which gave a different emphasis to what he sang, especially the Schubert items. His voice, while younger sounding, is a very smooth and flexible instrument which enabled him to move from Carissimi to Copland by way of Rachmaninov and Verdi, with fluidity and stylistic aptness. The programme itself was somewhat of a pot-pourri. The number of compositional styles encompassed in the space of two hours was extremely wide, . and certainly gave ample opportunity for the artists to display their wares. But this admirable catholicity of approach did result in some unusual juxtapositions.

Of Elliott’s items, her de Falla “Siete Canciones Populares Espanolas” allowed her to move quickly through puckishness, nobility and tenderness within the compass of seven short vignettes. The two famous “Carmen” arias, though a little lightweight in tone, were handled with a. deliciously flirtatious mien not quite spilling over into brazenness. David Farquhar’s “Three Songs of Cilla McQueen” surprised me a little in terms of teir compositional mode. Farquhar seems almost to have stood still during the last two decades; there is more of a 1950 s air about this set. But Elliott, again, was right inside their changes in mood, and picked her way accurately through quite a spare melodic texture.

Whelan’s interpretation of Copland’s “Four Old American Songs” showed him equally able to respond with appropriate humour and charm as with intensity. After these witty, throwaway arrangements, however, it was difficult to adjust immediately to Claggart’s monologue from Britten’s “Billy Budd,” which requires a demoniacal obsessiveness of penetration. Indeed, I do not feel Whelan is completely comfortable with opera generally, though more stylised eighteenthcentury forms, especially Italian, would be worth investigating. His treatment of three songs from Lilburn’s “Elegy,” though, was very successful in conveying the bleakness of Campbell’s texts, and the sombre Rachmaninov songs also suited his stentorian tones admirably. Chris Doig acted as compere, and also joined the, two main artists in an excerpt from Rossini’s “Stabat Mater” with his customary brilliance.