Tore Art Gallery, Tore, near Inverness, 22 August 2009

Liz McLardy

THERE ARE many who would not disagree if I was to call myself “old fashioned”, or that I was becoming curmudgeonly, or perhaps on a permanent audition for the television programme Grumpy Old Men. I get irritated by words that are stolen and given new meanings totally at odds with those accepted by our mother tongue.

“Cool” is a description of temperature; “gay” means happy or cheerful; and on Saturday evening during the introductory speech to this charity event, when I heard the interior of the converted church that is the excellent and welcoming Tore Art Gallery called a “resource” (stock or supply of materials), my hackles rose as if somebody had dragged their fingernails down a blackboard.

So, what did it take to lift my despondency at fighting a rearguard action to protect our language? In two words: Liz McLardy.

It would be churlish to ignore the two opening speeches, from Clare Blois, the gallery owner telling us of the history behind the resident Bechstein that survived unscathed when its home was hit by a flying bomb during World War II, and from pianist Anne McIntyre explaining how a group of hormonal teenage lads had been converted to opera during a school trip to Aberdeen. Isn’t it amazing how engrossing the sight of a topless dancer can be?

As the first half of this fundraising event in aid of the Dingwall Puffin Hydrotherapy Pool was distinctly operatic, it was to be hoped that nobody in the packed audience needed a similar conversion.

Nonetheless, dancer or no dancer, their conversion would have been complete by the opening aria Una voce poco fa from The Barber of Seville by Rossini, in which the feisty Rosina expresses her determination to win the man of her dreams, Lindoro. Liz McLardy had every note and nuance to perfection right up to the spectacular finale. She judged each phrase and acted each movement as though born to the role.

Next up was the tenor for the evening, the third Mac, Alan McLeod, with the Duke’s arrogant mission statement from Rigoletto by Verdi, Questa o quella. His voice is naturally quite gentle, which was in contrast to the experience and delivery of his fellow performer, and he could have done a bit more to portray the evil intent of the womanising Duke. Even so it was an encouraging performance and boded well for the rest of the evening.

For her solo spots in the first half Anne McIntyre chose a couple of excerpts from the score of the Jane Campion film The Piano, composed by Michael Nyman. Between the two sets of operatic arias came the hauntingly beautiful The Heart asks Pleasure first with its distinctive Scottish character, and then to end the first half Big My Secret.

The earliest piece performed was by Purcell, whose three hundred and fiftieth birthday is being celebrated this year. When I am laid in earth to rest is a poignant lament from Dido and Aeneas that was performed with emotive pathos and expression by Liz McLardy.

Lalo’s opera Le Roi d’Ys is seldom performed these days, although its overture remains popular, as does the tenor aubade from Act III, Vainement ma bien-aimèe (In vain, my beloved), as Mylio prepares to marry Rozenn. This provided Alan McLeod with his second solo of the first half, well sung, but I got the impression that opera was not the medium in which he felt most confident.

Liz McLardy’s experience in a wide variety of styles was exemplified as she adopted the character of Mimi from La Bohëme by Puccini to sing the well-known Mi chiamano Mimi. She lived the part, both coy and flirtatious as she fell in love at her first sight of Rodolfo.

The interval gave everybody the chance to enjoy a drink, have a chat with friends, but especially to peruse the current exhibition at the Tore Art Gallery, albeit somewhat rearranged to allow for the seating. I am not a critic of the visual arts, and as I said earlier, I am rather old-fashioned, but even I could appreciate many of the works on display, their range and their colours, and try to understand the painter’s inspiration.

A traditionalist I may be, but I believe firmly that all concerts should include a work to challenge the audience, for without a piece to stretch the mind and make us work, concerts would become mundane and music would wither.

This provided the interest to open the second half as Anne and Liz gave us the five Melodies Passagëres, a set of five French poems by Rainer Maria Rilke set to music by the American Samuel Barber. They are not easy. But they were sung exquisitely by Liz, once again displaying her range and expertise. Before she started Liz asked that we leave our applause to the end, and then joked that we could give a standing ovation. One was deserved, but I think everyone was too bemused and overcome to get to their feet. For me these five songs were the highlight of the evening.

Anne’s third solo was the musical picture Farewell to Stromness painted by Sir Peter Maxwell Davis, a lovely imaginative jaunty work that sums up in sound so much of the Orkney landscape.

Then it was into the home straight, with Liz starting off with an unaccompanied ‘Love For Sale’ by Cole Porter, and a music hall style number, Pretend to be Northern. Alan came into his own for the Vivian Ellis number ‘Spread a Little Happiness’ from the 1929 West End musical Mr Cinders that was an inverted version of Cinderella.

Two Bernstein songs completed the programme. Liz sang ‘It Must Be So’ from Candide after which everyone enjoyed the duet ‘One Hand, One Heart’ from West Side Story. Encores were inevitable, so Alan reprised ‘Spread a Little Happiness’, and then Liz showed that there were still more strings to her bow with the lovely ‘Care Selve’ from Atalanta by Handel. The opera is out of fashion and rarely heard, but the aria is a stalwart of the concert stage and in the repertoire of the great sopranos, Liz McLardy included.

© James Munro, 2009

Links

• Tore Gallery