This is from the beginning, at the 1989 BBC Cardiff Singer of the World Competition, when he was up against Bryn Terfel. Yeletsky's aria from Tchaikovsky's Pikovaya Dama was one of those things Hvorostovsky sang like no-one else - the vintage cello of a baritone voice just loved those rising scalic phrases, and the breath control was always extraordinary. It was the first thing I thought of today, hearing the awful if expected news (he was four months younger than me). Tomorrow I'll turn to an Arts Desk tribute and listen to a lot more (the Russian folk songs disc, Verdi as well as more Tchaikovsky) when I have the time.
Update (23/11) My Arts Desk homage is here, with excerpts from a 1992 interview for Gramophone and two more YouTube clips. My thanks to Cheryl Madden over on LinkedIn for citing the folksong 'Nochenka' as her favourite Hvorostovsky number - unaccompanied, he is at his nuanced best.
Sitting on sofa with my teapot and cat on lap having read these wonderful entries - Gedda and Stockholm and having watched Hvorostovsky - so sad. Had no idea he was ill.
ReplyDeleteWill show my Swedish lodger your inspirational piece on Stockholm. She will be touched and homesick but is going back for Xmas.
I must come round for a listening session (with cinnamon buns!)
Cinnamon buns always welcome. Bagariet does them perfectly - also serves up princess cake. And I'll give you a special selection of the best from those treasured LPs.
ReplyDeleteThank you, David. I’m in floods.
ReplyDeleteClaire with an i - it does bring it home, doesn't it: our contemporary. But that is such Russian bel canto, by any standards.
ReplyDeleteIf I may be allowed to lower ( or maybe raise) the level of your entry, Hvorostovsky was also very very handsome.......
ReplyDeleteHe certainly was - as his thousands, maybe millions of fans would agree. Maybe one of the first 'barihunks'.
ReplyDeleteThank you for this, which prompted me to listen to several other arias and songs, including a 2016 recording of a song cycle by Sviridov, which I gather Hvorostovky commissioned, though I'm not sure of that. I'm sorry to have missed the opportunity to hear him while he was alive, but all the more grateful for the recordings.
ReplyDeleteThe Sviridov, I have to say, never stayed with me, though it was good that Hvorostovsky ventured a little outside the box. As I've written elsewhere, I was sorry that I didn't know DH had recently been diagnosed when I reviewed his last Onegin at Covent Garden; it wasn't comfortable. But the Met film with Renee shows his characterisation as one of real distinction. And the recorded legacy is indeed impressive.
ReplyDeleteNow, can I nudge you on to the next entry, which I made earlier that day? I think you'll be impressed by the coincidence narrated within it.
I suspected you might have that response to the Sviridov. I found I was quite taken with the whole project, including the choice of poetry. I began searching around, but couldn't find the texts in English anywhere. You may be amused to note, we both of us enjoyed the tune Russia Cast Adrift. It reminded me strongly of another tune I simply couldn't place, and Josie piped up, "I think Sibelius!" Sibelius indeed it was: Tanssilaulu from Jokamies!
ReplyDeleteYes, the poems are wonderful. I thought I had the CD with texts and translations but maybe I got rid of it, or maybe I just heard a live performance...certainly I have a treasured clutch of Hvorostovsky recital CDs. What's the Sibelius you cite?? Off to hear Sakari conduct 4 and 7 with a new Violin Concerto by the entertaining Anders Hillborg. Oramo's Sibelius must be the best in the world, ditto his Nielsen.
ReplyDeleteThe Sibelius is, in translation (if I have this right, which I think I do), the Dance Song from Everyman.
ReplyDeleteThere you have me - I don't know it...must remedy that. Oramo's performances tonight were stunning, and Lisa Batiashvili kept up the level of intensity in the very interesting concerto. I believe it was broadcast live on BBC Radio 3, so you should be able to catch it. Certainly never heard better interpretations of either symphony.
ReplyDeleteFrom my amateur standpoint- Not Bad ! Brilliant. But I wish that the BBC announcers ( not only on this occasion) would not gabble the proper names. I had to go to the PC to find out who was performing. ( OK of course if one had checked beforehand or knew, but otherwise wearing)
ReplyDeleteAre you referring to last night's BBC Symphony concert? The presenter wasn't bad (I dipped in this morning). He even pronounced 'Anders' with the proper Swedish ending.
ReplyDeleteI was referring to the habit - now widespread - for announcers to spend time on the message but to rush through the names of the actors in whatever activity is being reported. The other day on Radio 3 there was a steer towards a later performance of a symphony by Bdn. Turned out to be Haydn. For many programmes one has to attend most closely to get the names of those taking part, especially at the end of a programme if one has missed the beginning. Ditto references to websites etc. I am not sure about correct pronunciation - I listened to a programme about Bohemia ( I know a little about that country) in which the place names were so correctly pronounced that I had to think which city/castle was referred to - and thus missed the next sentence. On the whole I support Fowler who recommends that foreign words should be spoken with the right vowel values but without any contortions of the voice into the original pronunciation for that language ( So your Anders sounds OK)
ReplyDeleteBut sometimes 'the right vowel values' need 'contortions of the voice into the original pronunciation'. But certainly I don't say 'Prakofiev'. Now that there's less time for everything on Radio 3, consulting the pronunciation unit happens less often (and usually you have to demand it). Not sure whether it costs every time the studio rings up. Sam West did a fabulous job with the names in the Prokofiev Diary excerpts I translated, by the way.
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