SOPRANO BAYRAKARDIAN SOARS AT SUNDAY AFTERNOONS
By Enrique Fernandez
Miami Herald, FL
April 4 2006
As she proved Sunday afternoon, Isabel Bayrakdarian is the complete
singer. With talent and beauty to burn, the Canadian-Armenian soprano,
accompanied on piano by her husband Serouj Kradjian, ran through a
diverse repertoire that showcased her range -- and not just vocal.
That range is impressive indeed. Not only can she hit the high notes
with apparent ease and run through coloratura passages, like she
did in Rossini's Una voce un poco fa from The Barber of Seville,
but she is complete control of her instrument.
She can stop dead or turn on a dime. And while some classical
singers appear to be showcasing vocal calisthenics, Bayrakdarian
uses her skills for dramatic purposes. In Plainte d'amour, a Pauline
Viardot-Garcia composition on a Chopin mazurka, the singer's sudden
stop signaled a sob. She balanced it with another mazurka-inspired
piece, Aime-moi, that was playful and flirtatious. With a voice so
rich in dramatic power, one longed to hear Bayrakdarian in a full
opera role.
The singer can handle a wide array of material with equal virtuosity
and aplomb, swinging from Falla's folksy Siete canciones populares to
some serious Clara Schumann lieder after the intermission. The Schumann
began with a very lyrical song, but was followed by a dramatic and
earthy one so sensual Bayrakdarian placed her hand not on her heart
but on her hip and pelvis. She ended with a carpe diem themed song,
flashing an occasional wicked gleam from her eyes.
Bayrakdarian is particularly adept at handling Spanish material, like
the Madrid song of the half Spanish, half French Viardot-Garcia, and
of course, the Falla, which included songs from up north in Asturias
and down south in Andalucía. Her roulades in that song mimicked the
wail of flamenco most convincingly, and even more forcefully when
she sang Ernesto Lecuona's popular Malagueña as an encore.
Two encores she got. And standing ovations. And "bravas!" It is no
exaggeration that Bayrakdarian had the audience eating out of the palm
of her hand. And it is no disrespect to call her an entertainer --
albeit of a very high order. Her dramatic skills are not confined to
her voice. Unlike classical singers who just stand there and sing,
Bayrakdarian acts out her songs.
In Viardot-Garcia's L'Enfant et la Mre, a dialogue between a dying
child and his mother, the soprano went from a tiny plaintive voice
emanating from her throat to a deep tragic one that poured from her
very core. And with a few contained gestures -- the pejorative use
of the word "operatic" could never be applied to her -- she conveyed
the full pathos of the song.'
Skepticism is the attitude to assume when one sees on the program
that a classical singer will do material from the American Songbook.
Yet, Bayrakdarian's treatment of Gershwin walked the fine line between
her classically trained voice and the Tin Pan Alley flavor of the
songs. She seldom veered from what a fine soprano would do with
such material as Someone to Watch Over Me or Love Is Here to Stay,
yet what veering she did, like speaking some of the lines, worked as
beautifully as hitting the high notes built into the compositions.
And when she changed the gender of Embraceable You to "Come to mama",
she seemed to be channeling one of Elizabeth Taylor's famous scenes. A
critic could not be blamed for shouting "I'm yours!" were it not for
Bayrakdarian first singing and then speaking boldly "I got my man"
from I got rhythm while pointing to her husband.
Who could ask for anything more?
--Boundary_(ID_adHGiBsMaTw0P+PAXt8KHA)--
By Enrique Fernandez
Miami Herald, FL
April 4 2006
As she proved Sunday afternoon, Isabel Bayrakdarian is the complete
singer. With talent and beauty to burn, the Canadian-Armenian soprano,
accompanied on piano by her husband Serouj Kradjian, ran through a
diverse repertoire that showcased her range -- and not just vocal.
That range is impressive indeed. Not only can she hit the high notes
with apparent ease and run through coloratura passages, like she
did in Rossini's Una voce un poco fa from The Barber of Seville,
but she is complete control of her instrument.
She can stop dead or turn on a dime. And while some classical
singers appear to be showcasing vocal calisthenics, Bayrakdarian
uses her skills for dramatic purposes. In Plainte d'amour, a Pauline
Viardot-Garcia composition on a Chopin mazurka, the singer's sudden
stop signaled a sob. She balanced it with another mazurka-inspired
piece, Aime-moi, that was playful and flirtatious. With a voice so
rich in dramatic power, one longed to hear Bayrakdarian in a full
opera role.
The singer can handle a wide array of material with equal virtuosity
and aplomb, swinging from Falla's folksy Siete canciones populares to
some serious Clara Schumann lieder after the intermission. The Schumann
began with a very lyrical song, but was followed by a dramatic and
earthy one so sensual Bayrakdarian placed her hand not on her heart
but on her hip and pelvis. She ended with a carpe diem themed song,
flashing an occasional wicked gleam from her eyes.
Bayrakdarian is particularly adept at handling Spanish material, like
the Madrid song of the half Spanish, half French Viardot-Garcia, and
of course, the Falla, which included songs from up north in Asturias
and down south in Andalucía. Her roulades in that song mimicked the
wail of flamenco most convincingly, and even more forcefully when
she sang Ernesto Lecuona's popular Malagueña as an encore.
Two encores she got. And standing ovations. And "bravas!" It is no
exaggeration that Bayrakdarian had the audience eating out of the palm
of her hand. And it is no disrespect to call her an entertainer --
albeit of a very high order. Her dramatic skills are not confined to
her voice. Unlike classical singers who just stand there and sing,
Bayrakdarian acts out her songs.
In Viardot-Garcia's L'Enfant et la Mre, a dialogue between a dying
child and his mother, the soprano went from a tiny plaintive voice
emanating from her throat to a deep tragic one that poured from her
very core. And with a few contained gestures -- the pejorative use
of the word "operatic" could never be applied to her -- she conveyed
the full pathos of the song.'
Skepticism is the attitude to assume when one sees on the program
that a classical singer will do material from the American Songbook.
Yet, Bayrakdarian's treatment of Gershwin walked the fine line between
her classically trained voice and the Tin Pan Alley flavor of the
songs. She seldom veered from what a fine soprano would do with
such material as Someone to Watch Over Me or Love Is Here to Stay,
yet what veering she did, like speaking some of the lines, worked as
beautifully as hitting the high notes built into the compositions.
And when she changed the gender of Embraceable You to "Come to mama",
she seemed to be channeling one of Elizabeth Taylor's famous scenes. A
critic could not be blamed for shouting "I'm yours!" were it not for
Bayrakdarian first singing and then speaking boldly "I got my man"
from I got rhythm while pointing to her husband.
Who could ask for anything more?
--Boundary_(ID_adHGiBsMaTw0P+PAXt8KHA)--