I sometimes permit myself to wonder whether singers quite realize what they are undertaking when they embark upon a Schubert recital. For one thing, the concentration is so great (a full operatic role, the Leonora of La forza del destino for instance, condensed in the four minutes of Die junge Nonne). For another, the programme should draw from the singer a wide range of colours and feelings as well as having the overall unity of some properly thought-out structure. Now, on this present record each separate item is a pretty object but in sequence, heard as a recital, it is woefully lacking. The light prettiness introduced with Claudine's charming ariette gives way to the playful prettiness of Liebhaber in allen Gestalten and then the little-miss prettiness of An die Laute. But of course An die Laute is not a little miss's song at all; it is quite specifically a man's serenade and if a woman is going to sing it then she needs to come up with something rather more spirited and edged than this finger-on-the-dimpled-chin kind of femininity (Elly Ameling is better at it on a deleted Philips LP—6500 704, 1/76). Geheimes is delicately pretty, Seligkeit shyly pretty (contrast Felicity Lott's more outgoing expression in her recent Schubert recital on Pickwick PCD898, 10/88), Alinde and Suleika more wistfully pretty.
And so it continues. There are times when we think ''Well, it's a very light voice and even Elisabeth Schumann was sometimes considered to be restricted by the lightness and brightness of her voice''. So we try Elisabeth Schumann just to see (EMI mono EX290359-3, 3/86). Nahe des Geliebten (one verse short) was coupled in 1937 with Lachen und Weinen, and both are in Kathleen Battle's programme. The difference is immediate and immense. In the first song Schumann is seeing those pictures (the dusty road, the traveller on the bridge), and the final words, ''O warst du da!'' are sighed longingly. In the second, there is a marvellous moment, ''warum du erwachen kannst am Morgen mit Lachen'', which is the very embodiment of awakening surprised by joy. Back to Battle and we have merely a pretty childlike pout, a pretty ingenuousness, and that is all.
A little more character emerges in Die Manner sind mechant, and the slim-lined louder tone of Rastlose Liebe makes a welcome change. Der Hirt auf dem Felsen has an expressive moment at ''so einsam bin'', and best is the little-known Lied der Delphine. Throughout, the voice is pure and accurately placed. James Levine matches the singer's delicacy with a light touch and a crisp style (but reverting to Felicity Lott's recital, Graham Johnson finds infinitely more than does Levine in the accompaniment of Nacht und Traume). The recordings were made over two years in two halls at Salzburg, with a noticeable hall resonance in the acoustic when the light voice rises to a forte.'