Wide-ranging Longy program
(Jennifer Taylor for The New York Times)
Baritone Thomas Meglioranza (pictured here during a 2006 concert in New York) is a singer of forthright clarity, his voice powerful and resonant, if somewhat monochromatic.
CAMBRIDGE - Baritone Thomas Meglioranza’s Saturday recital was a kind of calling card to Boston. Not that he hasn’t been seen here in the past: He made an especially deep impression in 2006 in the American premiere of Peter Eötvös’s “Angels in America.’’
Now Meglioranza has been appointed Visiting Artist in Voice at the Longy School of Music, and hopefully his concert there with the superb accompanist Reiko Uchida betokens a greater presence here. He is a singer of forthright clarity, his voice powerful and resonant, if somewhat monochromatic.
He’s also an exceptionally creative programmer, as Saturday’s program showed. He chose a wildly diverse cross section of songs written in the years around World War I. Many were almost unknown, and many hovered around that murky yet discernible line that separates art song from popular fare. Meglioranza introduced each group of songs from the stage; if it broke up the recital’s rhythm, it was also welcome given the obscurity of much of his material.
He began with Charles Ives’s parlor song “In the Alley’’ and three early songs by Kurt Weill. Poulenc’s “The Bestiary,’’ a series of five brief songs on nonsense poems by Guillaume Apollinaire, was whimsical with an unexpected burst of poignancy in the final song, “The Carp.’’
More overt in its emotional leaning was Debussy’s final song, “Christmas of the Homeless Children,’’ a cry of protest against the actions of the German army during the war. It gave Meglioranza a welcome chance to unleash the full power of his voice.
Two contrasting missives from Vienna followed: Rudolf Sieczynski’s schmaltzy “Vienna, City of My Dreams’’ and three luminous, otherworldly songs by Webern. The latter, performed with obvious care and concentration, were among the evening’s highlights.
After more Ives came Carrie Jacobs-Bond, a pioneering American woman who wrote dozens of popular songs. “A Perfect Day,’’ one of her signature tunes, was followed by a dozen “Half-Minute Songs.’’ These are epigrammatic pearls of wisdom set to the briefest of accompaniments: Think Emily Post meets Stephen Foster. Delivered with deadpan wit by Meglioranza, they were sidesplittingly funny.
He and Uchida finished with a selection of American popular songs, including a slyly relevant cautionary tale about germs titled “Some Little Bug Is Going to Find You Someday.’’ Was it art or entertainment? By the end of the evening, marked by Meglioranza’s earnest, compelling artistry, it hardly mattered.
