Recording of the Week, Aigul Akhmetshina's debut album on Decca

Ever since Aigul Akhmetshina made a white-hot guest-appearance in the final scene from Carmen on Freddie De Tommaso’s Il Tenore, I’ve been hoping for a full-length operatic recital from the charismatic young Bashkir mezzo – and Decca delivers the goods today with her self-titled debut album, featuring vivid snapshots of some of the roles which have featured prominently in her career to date.

It’s hardly surprising that proceedings kick off with a return to Carmen, given that Bizet’s free spirit has dominated Akhmetshina’s calendar this season: she’s about to sing the role at Glyndebourne, following productions at the Metropolitan Opera and Covent Garden, and straight off the bat it’s evident that she’d already spent a significant amount of time really getting under the character’s skin when this recording was made.

I’ll come onto the voice itself in a moment, but what’s most striking about Akhmetshina’s Carmen here is her introversion: we always get the sense that this is a woman with a rich and complex inner life, even in the scenes where she’s ostensibly playing to the gallery. The famous Habanera is a case in point, coming across as an introspective monologue on the vicissitudes of attraction that just happens to play out in public rather than a crowd-pleasing display of sassiness.

The Seguidilla which follows (with De Tommaso returning the favour as a distinctly buttoned-up Don José) is similarly nuanced: through the subtlest inflections in colour and phrasing, Akhmetshina conveys the impression that this Carmen feels a potent emotional connection with the young officer and is genuinely dreaming of what they might have together rather than pulling off a bit of cold hustle.

And it’s in the Seguidilla that we begin to get the full measure of the voice’s capabilities: her wide-ranging mezzo is beautifully integrated and secure from top to bottom, with a ringing top B at the close of this scene and a distinctive coppery lower register which never sounds artificially darkened or pressurised. Akhmetshina simply doesn’t sound like anybody else, possibly down to the fact that she grew up in a small village without easy access to operatic recordings and performances as points of inspiration.

It’s already evident from the little flourishes in the Seguidilla that this is a voice which moves freely, and arias from Rossini’s Il barbiere di Siviglia and La Cenerentola showcase her agility and range in all its glory. The reams of coloratura are fluently executed, with none of the ‘machine-gun’ quality espoused by Cecilia Bartoli and some of the singers who followed in her footsteps, and Akhmetshina’s ornamentation in both arias takes her up to high C sharps which will stop you in your tracks. (A scene from Bellini’s I Capuleti – the only opera here which Akhmetshina hasn’t yet done on stage – is capped with a sustained top D that would be the envy of many a high soprano).

And none of it feels like mere note-spinning: these coloratura showpieces are every bit as carefully characterised as Carmen, with Akhmetshina capturing Rosina’s loneliness and frustration in 'Una voce poco fa' and radiating sweetness and light in Cinderella’s outpouring of joy and benevolence in the great closing scene from Cenerentola.

It’s especially good to have a glimpse of Akhmetshina as Charlotte in Massenet’s Werther, a role in which she had enormous success at Covent Garden a few months before this recording was made (despite having to adapt to a series of last-minute leading men after Jonas Kaufmann fell ill). The gloomy Christmas Eve scene in which Charlotte broods over Werther’s letters is all the more powerful because she keeps her powder dry until the final stretches: this correct, contained young woman only truly unravels when she comes across the note which carries a terrifying suggestion of suicidal ideation…

A melancholy folk-song from Akhmetshina’s homeland makes for a beguiling postscript to the album, and before I sign off myself I must pay tribute to the terrific Royal Philharmonic Orchestra (woodwinds in particular) who offer the most atmospheric and characterful support throughout under Daniele Rustioni. This dynamic young Italian may have missed out on the top job at Covent Garden, but let’s hope he continues to be a regular visitor…  

Look out for our interview with Aigul next week, in which she delves deeply into the psychology of all the characters on the album and reflects on how different directors have influenced her perspective on Carmen in particular...