The title is intriguing, and so is the programme. Songs by American composers of the present century alternate with more familiar works from earlier times, night and sleep being their common subjects. The accompaniments also have a flavour of their own, with Monteverdi and Purcell arranged for two guitars, and George Crumb (alto flute, electric cello, banjo and percussion) vying with Villa-Lobos (eight cellos) for the novelty-prize. Though the prevailing mood is somewhat (and quite appropriately) sleepy, it gains variety with a lively ‘B’ section in the Handel, an urgent recitative-like passage in mid-Villa-Lobos, and some agitated exclamations in the final song of the Crumb cycle. The menu is set out as though with the genial imperative “Enjoy!” written over it, and it is greatly to my regret that this was something I could not quite manage to do.
Perhaps others will respond more readily to the singer’s manner, which is intimate, sweet and rather winsome. The style favours a speech-inflected production in which notes swell or retract, and where a whole phrase is rarely ‘bound’ by the old-fashioned (or time-honoured) means of legato. Compare, for instance, Upshaw’s singing of Night’s solo in The Fairy Queen (“See even now”) with either Nancy Argenta in the Christie recording (Harmonia Mundi, 1/90) or Norma Burrowes with Britten (Decca, 5/92): there the melodic line is preserved with an evenness of production and (though these are both light voices) a well-nourished tone, far more satisfying, to my ears, than the confiding manner and pallid coloration of this present performance. Certainly the American pieces seem to be better suited. The “flimmering” shafts of White Moon and still more the affectionate mood of Black Anemones are well captured. I have not been able to see the scores of these, or of Night of the Four Moons, but the performances suggest a sympathetic understanding and a sense of imaginative involvement. Crumb’s own involvement with Lorca’s poetry may be familiar to readers through the Songs, Drones and Refrains of Death; the ‘moon’ settings have the singer also speaking, whispering and, with the last song, disappearing into the distance. All of this is accomplished with uninhibited conviction and may possibly endear itself with repeated hearings. The song by Ruth Crawford Seeger was heard in a recent recital by Upshaw at London’s Wigmore Hall, as the second in a group of three, all with texts by Carl Sandburg and impressing quite deeply. I rather wish the others, though not specifically ‘night’ pieces, had been included here.'