Felicity Lott and Graham Johnson: "Call Me Flott"
Songs in English by Barber, Berlin, Berners, Bliss, Bridge, Britten, Bush, Coward, Dring, Flanders & Swann, Gounod, Hahn, Hopkins, Horder, Hupfield, Kern, Musto, Novello, Porter, Poulenc, Saint-Saëns and Ware. Champs Hill Records CD CHRCD003
Felicity Lott has teamed up with her longtime accompanist, pianist Graham Johnson, to present Call Me Flott, a recital album devoted exclusively to English-language fare and released on the newly-launched Champs Hill Records label.
The main draw throughout is Lott's enduring luxurious tone, which thrives particularly well in adagio-laden confessions of the heart, such as Frank Bridge's "Oh that it were so." Unfortunately, this twenty-seven-song set is generous to a fault in its smorgasbord of musical offerings and subsequently suffers from thematic unevenness.
One glaring inconsistency occurs with the inclusion of "The Boy in the Gallery," by George Ware, which finds Lott merely putting on the one-dimensional character of a young woman smitten with her beau. It is difficult to suspend disbelief, and that problem is exacerbated when the song is juxtaposed with Noël Coward's ravishing "Mad about the Boy," in which an aging woman knowingly deludes herself in pining infatuation for a young man with matinée-idol looks. Here, Lott's portrayal is completely absorbing, and the listener empathizes precisely because the woman is all too aware that her misplaced affections are unrealistic and betray a longing for indomitable youth.
At times, Lott's enunciation is overwrought, her delivery beset by a seemingly pretentious distance; she periodically succumbs to scooping up toward higher notes in her range. One gets the impression of a distinguished performer singing at her audience rather than to it. A bourgeois affectation creeps in, preventing the listener from receiving the full range — and obvious sincerity — of her gifts.
In contrast, Lott's ability to tap into a reservoir of disarming emotional potency is on full display in the bluesy vulnerability of Samuel Barber's setting of the James Joyce-penned "Solitary Hotel," and in the intoxicating, starry-eyed reminisces of Irving Berlin's "What'll I Do." Johnson's accompaniment operates at all times with a charming deference to Lott's commanding presence, but their partnership is especially effective in the glittering wit of their synergistic energies in Cole Porter's "The Physician" and "A Word On My Ear," by Flanders and Swann.
Ultimately, the duo shines when they detach themselves from the stifling austerity of recital hall aesthetics and instead draw the listener's focus toward the subtle intimacy encapsulated in smaller moments — the clarion vibrato of Lott's voice midrange, or Johnson's delicate evocation of the rich romance inherent in the harmonic material.
DANIEL J. KUSHNER
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