This eclectic programme makes a welcome change from recorded recitals devoted to one composer, one genre. Gheorghiu avers, in a disarmingly frank note, that she thrives on change, loves to be in different countries and experience different idioms so she “wanted to create a unique recital programme that would reflect all these aspects of my interests”. She certainly has done that: her generous choice boxes the compass from classical through German, Spanish, Italian and French song to ethnic pieces.
She also points out, quite rightly, that many of the items exploit the warm qualities of her lower voice: the haunting pieces, semi-popular, from the far east, for instance; even more the Greek popular song, one of the tracks – I predict – that will soon be heard a great deal over the air. Still better, not surprisingly, are the three songs from her native Romania, especially the seductive Siren’s song and the glorious Umbra, a late-nineteenth-century romance. Then there’s an old favourite of mine, Ovalle’s insinuating Azulao, chosen apparently at the suggestion of Martineau, the singer’s creative partner, and sung in that soft-grained manner peculiar to Gheorghiu.
She ends with a bravura account of the Lanza favourite Be my love, the slight accent in the English almost an advantage. Similarly her indeterminate German makes her three Lieder sound unidiomatic, but each of these love-songs is given with such conviction that the customary criteria for judgement can for once be set aside. Her French is much better; in any case the erotic charge of the Satie and Poulenc pieces is amply felt. In Oh! quand je dors, and occasionally elsewhere, I felt Gheorghiu’s style a little too laid back, with some unwanted sliding between notes, but the languorous feeling in this, the best of all Liszt’s songs, is conveyed, and all is forgiven when the final phrase is sung in one breath on a diminuendo.
There’s much else to commend: the elegiac quality in Respighi’s infinitely sad Nebbie contrasting with the earthy high spirits of Montsalvatge’s Canto negro and the Delibes song, and the wistful touch in the famous Dvorak. With an admirably faithful recording as a bonus, this ought to be a runaway success.'