PREVIEW: MARK PADMORE

Rudolfinum

June 1

Padmore, right, and Lewis: Letting Schubert be Schubert.

British tenor Mark Padmore makes his Prague debut this week in style: As a featured soloist in Prague Spring, giving a recital with his favorite accompanist, pianist Paul Lewis. The duo have won critical acclaim for their recent recordings of Schubert lieder, including a Gramophone Award for Best Solo Vocal for their 2009 release Winterreise. On Friday night at the Rudolfinum, they will be performing Schubertʼs Schwanengesang cycle along with a challenging set of Beethoven songs, including the An die ferne Geliebte cycle. Still a rising star at the age of 52, Padmore graciously agreed to an e-mail interview about his current repertoire and career plans.

Beethoven isnʼt typically thought of for his songs. What drew you to that work?

I love An die fern Geliebte. I think it is one of the greatest song cycles and hugely influential, particularly for Schumann. The poetry is perhaps not of the highest quality, but it is really great Beethoven.

What have you and Paul Lewis tried to do with the Schubert song cycles?

We both try to get out of the way. Really, it is Schubert that you should be listening to, not Padmore and Lewis. The idea is to take you beyond or past the personalities, frailties and ego of the performers, and communicate something of how the composer felt and thought. That is really interesting – much more interesting than either of us.

You started out studying piano and clarinet. When and why did you decide to focus on singing?

I decided that I didnʼt want to be a member of an orchestra when I was about 17. I had always enjoyed singing, so I began to concentrate on that. Playing clarinet and piano had made my sight-reading pretty good, so although I didnʼt have a particularly strong voice, I was able to be a good member of a choir. I didnʼt really develop a solo career until I was 30.

You first made a name as a soloist in early music, and then 20th-century music. Now youʼre in between, so to speak, with the classical and Romantic repertoire. What attracted you to that period?

Above all I love the music of Bach, Beethoven, Schubert, Janáček and Britten. Fortunately, they all wrote music I can perform, particularly Bach, Schubert and Britten. In the end, it is the thrill of communicating with an audience that keeps me singing. I love trying to let an audience share my experience with some of the greatest music ever written.

Do you have plans to explore other periods and/or composers?

I hope I never lose the urge to explore new repertoire. There are always new things to see, read and hear, just as there are always new things to find in the great works of art. How could anyone think that they understand Bachʼs St. Matthewʼs Passion or Shakespeareʼs King Lear or Picassoʼs Guernica – they are beyond comprehension. But we can and must approach these masterpieces to learn from them.

You are a veteran of period ensembles and the opera stage, but your schedule is almost exclusively recitals and soloist appearances now. Whatʼs kept you there?

The great thing about recitals is that you create the whole world of the songs with just two people – the singer and the pianist. If the two of you are trying to do the same thing, it is possible to create a really powerful effect. In the opera house, too often one or more of the elements donʼt gel. Either the conductor or the director is not very good, or the chorus doesnʼt want to act, or the other soloists are egomaniacs. It is very hard for everything to work together.

Do you see yourself going back to the opera stage at some point?

I am looking forward very much to singing Captain Vere in Billy Budd at Glyndebourne next summer. I love being on stage, but I also donʼt enjoy being away from my family for weeks at a time. So my opera appearances will be limited.

What do you hope that the audience in Prague takes away from your concert?

I really hope that the audience can be delighted by the genius of Beethoven and Schubert. The music is joyful and melancholy and moving and terrifying. I hope that the excitement that Paul and I feel in performing this comes across to the audience.

For more on Mark Padmore: www.markpadmore.com

PRAGUE SPRING NOTEBOOK I

Rudolfinum

May 23

Obecní dům

May 25

Prague Conservatory

May 28

Andsnes played and conducted from the keyboard.

Beethoven has been a dominant presence in the festival over the past week, with his piano works providing some revealing points of comparison. Beyond the usual differences in approach and style, they provided a showcase for musicians at different points in the careers, all coming to Beethoven with their own ideas and objectives. Was a major composer ever so malleable?

As detailed in this space last week, Norwegian pianist Lief Ove Andsnes came to Prague to start recording a complete set of the piano concertos with the Mahler Chamber Orchestra. He performed in an unusual configuration – in the middle of a 45-piece ensemble, back to the audience, lid removed so he could see and conduct the players. It proved to be an effective arrangement. The piano tones lost a bit of depth, but Andsnes’ connection with the orchestra seemed almost psychic, producing a clean, cohesive sound with remarkable consistency and integrity.

It was obvious that Andsnes put a lot of time into preparing concertos No. 1 and No. 3. There wasn’t a phrase that hadn’t been thought through and developed along the lines that the pianist articulated at his press conference – brotherhood, beauty, spirituality. His connection with the music was deep, rendered dramatically in some passages, lyrical in others, all played with a light touch and very fine control.

The orchestra provided seamless accompaniment and surprising sophistication, given its makeup of members from 20 different countries. An interlude of Stravinsky’s Apollon musagète was particularly impressive, performed with elegance and depth without the benefit of a conductor. The only disappointment was the audience, which applauded after the first movement of both concertos. Andsnes said he chose the Rudolfinum for its superb acoustics. Perhaps he should return during the regular season, which tends to attract more intelligent listeners.

Blechacz, all style and no soul.

The contrast could hardly have been more dramatic two nights later at Obecní dům, where Polish piano star Rafał Blechacz performed Beethoven’s Piano Concerto No. 4 with the Warsaw Philharmonic. Just 27, Blechacz already has an enviable set of awards to his credit (including all five first prizes at the 2005 Chopin Competition) and a recording contract with Deutsche Grammophon that most musicians would give up their firstborn to have. But his playing was strikingly shallow. Seemingly effortless and technically dazzling, it nonetheless lacked any sense of personality or conviction, a brilliant gloss with no depth. Whereas Andsnes played with electric intensity, Blechacz seemed content with a bright, breezy cover.

The orchestra was also one-dimensional, opening with a respectful but uninspired version of Dvořák’s The Golden Spinning Wheel, and offering similarly thin accompaniment on the Beethoven concerto. The second half was better, as it should have been for one of the orchestra’s signature pieces, Witold Lutosławski’s seminal Concerto for Orchestra, which the Warsaw Philharmonic premiered in 1954. With soaring strings, playful woodwinds, deep dynamics and vivid colors across a broad palette, it was a powerful demonstration of the impact the piece had nearly 60 years ago – and still does. Otherwise, it was a lackluster performance, leaving this critic wishing that Antoni Wit and his well-regarded ensemble had stayed with their apparent strengths in the Polish repertoire.

A heartfelt showing by Arnicane.

But this is Prague Spring, so inspiration is never far away. In a recital at the conservatory on Monday night, Latvian pianist Arta Arnicane showed why she won last year’s competition with a refreshing, spirited performance of Beethoven’s Sonata in D major, Op, 10, No. 3. Arnicane’s physical style of playing added zest to the opening movement, and her disciplined but imaginative phrasing created wonderful atmospherics in the second. A clear and distinctive voice was evident throughout the remainder of the piece, which she played with a beguiling combination of gracefulness and authority.

That mix was even more potent in Schumann’s Symphonic Études, which were riveting. Arnicane has soft hands that never lose their finesse even in the most demanding passages, which made for an exceptionally fluid performance and a clear but rousing finale. Though her sound lacks seasoning, her playing comes straight from the heart, a quality reflected in her choice of a second encore – Satie’s familiar Gymnopédie No. 1, a technically simple but emotionally satisfying finish.

In all, a smart and sensitive performance from a very promising young artist. Remember the name Arta Arnicane. You did not hear it here first, but you will definitely be hearing it again.

Photos: Andsnes & Arnicane, Zdeněk Chrapek; Blechacz, Ivan Malý