Texte paru dans: / Appeared in: Hyperion
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Reviewer: Lindsay Kemp
The main strength of Iestyn Davies’s singing lies in its straightforward lyrical beauty, certainly a sound fit for Dowland’s classic melodic grace. When his songs are performed as purely musically as this, the battle is already half-won, and indeed Davies seems to see no need for overdeliberate interpretation. His diction is clear (impressively quick in ‘Can she excuse?’) but his phrases are touched by naturalness and a rejection of the kind of interpretational point-making that, for instance, has led many others to introduce a tiny hiatus after the third note of ‘Time stands still’. Instead, Davies can reach the heart of the matter through leisurely lingering in ‘Flow my tears’, an aching swell on the penultimate note of the ever-superb ‘In darkness let me dwell’, a brief burst of ornamentation or a momentary flowering of vibrato when a phrase, note or vowel demands it. Melancholy, it seems, does not have to have downright angst waiting round the corner.
Davies’s accompanist is Thomas
Dunford, a lutenist still in his twenties but already making people notice him
with his strongly projected resonant tone, wide range of touch and dynamic, and
effortlessly attentive musicianship. His five solos are a strong plus;
‘Lachrimae’ and ‘Fortune my foe’ are both seriously slow and free. This is
Dowland to treasure.
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