Lammermuir Festival: Catriona Morison, Malcolm Martineau and Scott Dickinson

The performance is a sell-out, though with Covid restrictions the audience is pleasantly spaced out. Our host tells us we’re live on Radio 3. A gentle murmuring, then spontaneous silence. At our backs we hear, but cannot really follow, Kate Mollison’s introduction for radio listeners. The applause as Malcolm and Catriona enter is fulsome, indicating the audience already know the musicians and expect something great. They won’t be disappointed. 

As they start, Catriona’s voice is so powerful it’s almost too much, crashing into the silence with a slight reverb from the smooth walls of the church. 

In an all-German programme from the High Romantic, the first set is by Schumann. Phones are off and there are no printed programmes, so I must rely on my rusty German to follow. Not too hard, as Catriona’s diction is crystal clear. On her face the play of emotion makes things even clearer, as if the music were not enough. As the second song begins, things are quieter, perhaps more fitting to the almost intimate space and its acoustic. Malcolm plays a Bösendorfer with subtle attentiveness to the singer. 

The third song probes deeper into the mezzo end of her range. They maintain this alternating pattern throughout the programme: a dramatic declarative piece, then something gentler, more inward. With Schumann the theme is mainly floral and amorous, summed up in the fourth song title ‘Du bist wie eine Blume’ (You are like a flower).  

In Part 2 we hear songs by Lang, a woman contemporary of Schumann’s. A while ago that might have been a surprise; now we’re discovering ever more of these talents in the shadows of the 19th century and even earlier. Not least is Schumann’s wife Clara, her piano works, few in number, equal to his in beauty. From Lang we again hear love songs, mostly of pain and loss. Her version of Goethe’s ‘Mignon’, quite different from Schubert’s lament, is dramatic, an angry attack. In this set only ‘Schwalben’ (Swallows) is playfully outward-looking. Here, Catriona’s face is like a 15-year old’s.  

The third section is Brahms, in two parts, the first with the addition of viola. Scott Dickinson is placed downstage and centre which is slightly disconcerting, as Catriona’s role is downplayed; her eyes, away from the audience, are on the viola player. But he earns his place with evocative playing, especially the theme from ‘Wiegenlied’. It’s the only music in the programme that’s familiar to me; I’ve known it since childhood, and it brings tears to my eyes. 

Finally we hear 5 more love songs by Brahms, climaxing with ‘Von ewiger Liebe’ (Eternal Love). Both music and performance seem to bring all the themes together, inward and outward, complaint and joy. In the last notes Catriona’s voice fills the hall, almost like a whole choir. 

In the encore, contrast again, with a playful tender piece by Brahms. Catriona’s mouth seems scarcely to open.