The second of John Elwes's three Summer Schubertiade concerts at the John Field Room was an all Schubert affair. The songs, largely concerned with the thousand-and-one ways of expressing the pains of love, are essentially self-communing, or, at least, that's how Elwes and his ever-sensitive pianist partner, Hugh Tinney, made them seem.
This duo eschewed most of the trappings of the public performance arena and mannerisms of dramatic presentation that are often brought to bear on this music. Their performances, one felt, would have fitted as comfortably, have communicated as easily and as richly in expression, in any drawing-room that Schubert ever knew as they did in the John Field Room of the National Concert Hall.
Elwes used his light tenor voice with freedom and flexibility, so that even the slightest of shadings, and notes almost only brushed against, communicated with rich expressive resonance. And the command of vibrato - mostly used sparingly, always intelligently (and never, one felt, without conscious intent) - was extraordinarily impressive, not least during the chilling start of Nacht und Traume (Night and Dreams).
Tinney's partnership was a delight in itself. He suggested responsiveness to every rustle and ripple of music and text, capturing every faintest breath and sigh, noting the potency of every tremor - or stab - of the heart. And he contributed, too, midway in each half, warmly reflective readings of a handful of solo piano pieces.
