Recording of the Week, English Song Recitals from Robin Tritschler and James Gilchrist

Two English song recitals from a pair of characterful tenors share the honours this week – one a heartfelt tribute to a singer whose idiosyncratic artistry inspired some of the twentieth century’s leading composers, another a compendium of little gems by a master songsmith whose gift for setting Shakespeare and folksong in particular is still perhaps overshadowed by his more trailblazing contemporaries.

First up is Irish tenor Robin Tritschler, whose thoughtfully curated homage to Peter Pears (released on Signum Classics last Friday) has to be one of the most illuminating vocal recitals to come my way this year. Featuring song-cycles by Lennox Berkeley, Richard Rodney Bennett, Geoffrey Bush, Arthur Oldham and of course Pears’s life-partner Benjamin Britten, the programme radiates palpable affection and admiration for Pears’s legacy whilst also confirming Tritschler’s own status as one of the most distinguished (and distinctive) heirs apparent to much of the repertoire which his forebear inspired.

The album opens with a set of Housman settings by Berkeley, penned shortly after Britten’s burgeoning relationship with Pears had dashed any hopes which Berkeley might have harboured regarding his own romantic future with the younger composer. Shot through with a raw sense of longing for what might have been, the songs were premiered only after Britten’s death, and their emotional directness is captured with startling clarity by Tritschler and the ever-imaginative Malcolm Martineau here.

Both artists highlight the spare, plangent beauty of ‘He would not stay for me’ to perfection, and ‘The Street Sounds To The Soldiers’ Tread’ (set with rather more hearty camaraderie and rather less latent homoeroticism by George Butterworth and Arthur Somervell) is also brilliantly done, catching the sexual charge of that fleeting moment of eye-contact between recruit and bystander with a poignant subtlety which paves the way for what follows…

Guitarist Sean Shibe then joins Tritschler for Berkeley’s rarely-recorded Songs of the Half-Light, setting poetry by Walter de la Mare and premiered by Pears and Julian Bream in 1965; the crepuscular, uncanny atmosphere of the cycle is beautifully conveyed by both, although personally I’d suggest programming your listening so that Britten’s Seven Sonnets of Michelangelo flow directly on from those Housman settings. The first major work which Britten composed specifically for Pears, the cycle received its first performance in New York shortly before the couple returned to England as conscientious objectors (which dovetails interestingly with the first Berkeley set), and Tritschler and Martineau never shortchange the songs’ fierce sense of frustration at experiencing a love that dare not speak its name.

These songs are where Tritschler’s interpretative kinship with Pears (notably his crystal-clear diction and ability to bring words off the page without pedantry) is perhaps most evident, but also where his own special qualities might actually supplant the master for some listeners: the voice is rounder, warmer and simply more conventionally beautiful in many respects, and the agility which both he and Martineau bring to this music is something to marvel at.

Richard Rodney Bennett’s Tom O’Bedlam’s Song (essentially a miniature one-man opera) receives a barnstorming performance from Tritschler and cellist Philip Higham, and it’s easy to see why Britten student Arthur Oldham’s charming, quirky Five Chinese Lyrics gained a foothold in the couple’s repertoire. But Geoffrey Bush’s Songs from the Zodiac (dedicated to Britten and Pears in memoriam) is the cherry on the cake for me, bringing each star-sign vividly to life with wit and economy in spades.

If you’re in the mood for something a little more laid-back than Tritschler’s diverse and often quite intellectually demanding programme, look no further than James Gilchrist and Anna Tilbrook’s gorgeous collection of songs by Roger Quilter, out today on Chandos and delivered with a plain-spoken eloquence that goes straight to the heart of this unpretentious, instantly attractive music. When we spoke last month, Tritschler mentioned Pears’s imaginative way with strophic songs as one of the qualities which made him such a special artist, and Gilchrist too has this in spades: listen to the range of colour and subtle shaping which he brings to each verse of ‘The Ash Grove’ and you’ll see exactly what I mean.