Eric Ferring: We have tomorrow
Delos

A major selling-point for Eric Ferring's follow-up to his debut release No Choice but Love is, naturally, the American tenor's voice. When performing songs by Barber, Brahms, Beach, and others, he delivers them with authority in a way that's commanding but not overbearing and tender yet strong. In terms of articulation and vibrato, he demonstrates exceptional control without ever sounding stiff. His voice is, put simply, a remarkable instrument that helps explain why the Iowa-born Ferring has made such considerable professional strides while still early in his singing career. He's appeared with the Metropolitan Opera, Santa Fe Opera, and Lyric Opera of Chicago, and in Europe too at Opéra de Rouen, Opéra de Paris, and the Opéra national du Rhin.

He's helped greatly by the sensitive accompaniment of his longtime collaborator, pianist Madeline Slettedahl and, on a number of pieces, the Paris-based ensemble Quatuor Agate (Adrien Jurkovic and Thomas Descamps, violins; Raphaël Pagnon, viola; Simon Iachemet, cello). In an interesting move, the recording initially features the singer and pianist only and then gradually adds string players before ending with two expanded ensemble performances. Whereas the selections on No Choice but Love constellate around themes of inclusiveness and gender identity, those on We have tomorrow are more generally representative of art song repertoire. Cycles by Barber, Fauré, and Arthur Shepherd sit comfortably alongside songs by Brahms, Beach, and Florence Price, and one comes away from this recording persuaded that tomorrow holds promise, not despair.

Barber's represented by the atmospheric cycle Mélodies passagères, the only songs composed by him in a language other than English. Set to lyric poems by Rilke, the cycle is emblematic of French song in a way that might surprise listeners who associate Barber with a work such as Knoxville: Summer of 1915. The precision of Ferring's delivery and his connection with Slettedahl are clear the moment the gracefully flowing “Puisque tout passe” begins the cycle. A darker colouration emerges in the melancholy “Un cygne,” even if its rhythmic lilt suggests the gliding movement of a swan. Ferring's capacity for tenderness distinguishes “Tombeau dans un parc,” his nuanced expression beautifully complemented by Slettedahl's tasteful chords. Livelier by comparison is “Le clocher chante,” while the brooding “Départ” intimates uncertainty in the harmonic instability of Barber's music.

Price is accounted for by two short numbers only, but their impact is strong. Working with texts by Langston Hughes, she lifts the spirits with “Hold Fast to Dreams,” the luminous song's melodic ascent consistent with its message of hope, and then captivates with the rousing “We have tomorrow.” The first two songs by Beach augment the singer and pianist with violinist Jurkovic and cellist Iachemet, respectively, the second pair the cellist and violinist Descamps. The love songs “Ecstasy” and “Chanson d'amour,” the latter set to a poem by Victor Hugo and featuring stirring interplay between voice and cello, are intensely romantic and instantly appeal. In her Two Songs, Op. 100, the harmonically daring “A Mirage” exudes an arresting dreamlike quality and “Stella viatoris” a stark, evocative mysteriousness.

The two Brahms songs were written for a contralto and violinist he knew well, “Geistliches Wiegenlied” initially created as a wedding present for the couple and later reworked to celebrate the birth of their son and “Gestillte Sehnsucht” written when Brahms hoped (in vain, it turned out) they might save their troubled union. In the first song, Ferring couples with violist Pagnon beautifully as the tenor renders stanzas by Friedrich Rückert that Brahms set eloquently. He chose a poem by Spanish writer Lope de Vega for the second, the composer's affecting music again tender and romantic. The tone of the music suits the text, which presents pleas by the Blessed Virgin for palms blowing in the Bethlehem wind to be quiet and not disturb her child's sleep.

With the advent of Arthur Shepherd's Triptych for High Voice and String Quartet, the instrumental forces expand and remain in place for La Bonne Chanson by Gabriel Fauré. Composed in 1926 and 1927 and set to texts by Rabindranath Tagore, Triptych presents an incandescent tapestry of sound, and with Ferring accompanied by Quatuor Agate, the performance takes on a luxuriant character that makes Shepherd's music spellbinding. Whereas the first two songs are contemplative, the third, “Light, my light,” engages with robust rhythmic vitality. We have tomorrow concludes on a high with Fauré's nine-song cycle, its texts by Paul Verlaine and the work designed to document the progress of love between partners. The piece proved too complex musically for the public to appreciate and went unpublished during the composer's lifetime. Heard today, it sounds wonderful, abundant in intoxicating music and marked by passages of yearning and tenderness but also anxiety and urgency. Particularly memorable are “Avant que tu ne t'en ailles,” for the Debussy-like sparkle of its piano chords and dreamlike aura, and the celebratory “L'hiver a cessé,” but they're hardly the only ones that leave an impression. Even when the tenor and Slettedahl are joined by Quatuor Agate, the music never loses its intimate quality.

November 2023