“What’s the new baritone like?” I asked James Sherlock many moons ago. “I think he’s going to be sensational!” James replied. “And he’s only 22!” My ears began to twitch. (You can do this if you wear hats, as people don’t notice) and it wasn’t long before things began to happen.
The St John Passion was the order of the day at Easter, and Nicholas was cast as Pilate. And what a character he made of him! Famous lines like “Am I a Jew?” or “What is truth?” (of course in German) were given their utmost dramatic significance. It was a performance which would have been notable anywhere.
Much has happened since then.
One of the many things is the formation of the recital team with Jâms Coleman. If you have seen the publicity leaflet for this concert, you will know it says “with Jâms Coleman” and not “and”. This is a partnership of equals, and it always fascinated me to watch them work together. It is four years since they met at the RAM – Jâms, at 26, is two years younger than Nicholas, who is 28. They want the duo to be career-long, and I very much hope it will be.
I’ve talked about “Schwanengesang” before and explained it is not a song cycle, and that the title “Swan Song” was the publisher’s idea because Schubert had died. The advantage of having a baritone in this situation is the darker voice is there for the big stuff, like “Der Atlas” (Paul Robinson has previously demonstrated many of the songs will be fine for a tenor, but he picked out the right ones).
But it’s “Music Ho!”
Nicholas and Jâms set out their stall with one of those memorable pieces of Lieder which combine fine music with top quality poetry. It doesn’t always happen. In this case the words were by that most sharp-witted and incisive of poets, Heinrick Heine, and the music by Schumann. The song tells the story of the over-mighty Biblical King of Babylon, Belshazzar, his challenge to God, the mysterious writing on the wall, and the last line “Belshazzar was, in that same night, murdered by his slaves” (the English version). Nicholas’ dramatic gifts were matched by Jâms’ colour-filled work on the piano, and Nicholas commanded all he surveyed when he announced “I am the King of Babylon”.
Two more Schumann settings followed – Meine Rose” and “Requiem”. Nicholas told us a story I did not know. Both were to poems by Nikolaus Lenau. Schumann was under the impression that Lenau had died when he wrote “Requiem” but it was not true. In fact they corresponded, but when Schumann sent his settings to Lenau, he had died the day before they arrived.
Then, a complete change – two of Britten’s folk song arrangements. “The Salley Gardens” can become rather sentimental, but Nicholas with excellent diction, as ever, avoided this trap. And then – one of my treats! – the adorable “Foggy Foggy Dew”. With Jâms spot on with the casually rocking rhythm (and a quiet chuckle!) Nicholas lent on the piano and told it like it is. Who, me? Never. Butter wouldn’t have melted, and poignancy that this fair young maid was no long there was shown without being mawkish.
Jâms now took over introducing the songs from Nicholas (yes, they share that too). Nicholas should do more French song – he’s got the picture. Against Jâms’ shimmering piano, we could believe all was “order, beauty, luxury, calm and voluptuousness” with Nicholas’ exquisite soft singing.
This was also very much to the fore in Vaughan Williams’ “Silent Noon”. There is that trap line up to the soft top note – “When twofold silence is the song” – and Nicholas was right there.
The group finished with “It was a lover and his lass” by Finzi, after which the company adjourned for a glass of wine.
The big work “Schwanengesang” was the second half. There are sixteen songs, so I will try and pick out some of the highlights.
Nicholas’ command of line, which flows so beautifully, was on display in songs like “Liebesbotschaft”. In “Kreiger’s Ahnung”, where a soldier lies awake in camp wondering if he will survive the battle, you only had to watch Nicholas’ eyes. He tries to say goodnight to his distant sweetheart, first sadly, then, and then with a false jauntiness that is quite hard to listen to.
“Ständchen”, the serenade, is almost my favourite piece of Lieder (unfortunately women can’t sing it because the words really wouldn’t make sense.) The line you wait for is the almost whispered last one “Beglücke mich!” (Make me happy) and Nicholas was very persuasive!
Another delightful song is “Abschied” (farewell). I have heard both James Sherlock and Jonny Beatty play this, and Jâms need not fear any comparisons – while Nicholas captured the bittersweet farewell – you don’t really know why there has to be one.
I have previously admired Nicholas’ operatic power in probably the biggest song of this group “Der Atlas” which tells of the classical punishment of having to carry the world and its sorrows on his shoulders. “Das Fischermädchen is a little charmer, with its lovely rocking rhythm. It needs to be thrown off just as it is, and it was.
And now one of Nicholas’ finest Lieder performances – the gothic tale of the man waiting outside his former sweetheart’s house, who sees his “Doppelgänger” – his double – and is stricken with fear. This is one to watch Nicholas’ eyes – and to hear what a great voice he has.
Another favourite is “Die Taubenpost” where the lover’s postal pigeon is called Longing – and it will fly all day and everywhere to reach his beloved. Nicholas and Jâms sparkled together.
That was the end of the official programme – but – my lips were sealed but I had heard it just might be – and, YES! La la la lera la la la la! and we were away with Rossini’s Figaro’s brilliant “Largo al factotum”! For years I’ve been telling the congregation that Nicholas can act, and if they don’t believe me now, they never will! He never missed a trick, and nor did Jâms, through all those ferocious runs, at top speed, and at the same time doing all sorts of funny things to show his pride in being a Quality Barber. It’s helped to win him two major awards – I know, I was there! Bravo, Figaro, bravo, bravo, bravissimo!
I would like to conclude with part of an online review I was told about when Nicholas sang in Handel’s “Alcina”, the first of five principal roles he sang for RAM Opera. After expanding for some time on a very fine Maltese mezzo, who was also at the RAM then, and where she was going and what she was doing (and quite right too) it got to the last line –
“And Nicholas Mogg is going nowhere – except to an international career.”
That’s all.