From Newsday, April 2004

Big and brawny, with a voice and temperament to match, bass-baritone Byrn Terfel is sometimes his own worst enemy. The quality of his instrument is nonpareil: rich and supple like the softest, most luscious suede, with a range of dynamics and color few singers can match. Terfel's handsome face and puppy-dog smile make him a natural communicator, and only a churl could question the warmth and generosity that animate his art.

Still, Terfel occasionally pours it on a bit thick. This has been the case with some of his operatic performances: as Mozart's Figaro, for example, a sturdy fellow if ever there was one, but whom Terfel can obliterate under the weight of his mugging. It was also true of his recital at Carnegie Hall Monday night.

The beauty and concentration of Terfel's opening Schubert set was stunning, compelling his audience to consider afresh the familiar "Ständchen" ("Serenade") with his masterful word-painting: the subtle stab of pain for "Liebesschmerz" ("Love's Pain"), the sweet, satiny tone as he evoked the nightingale's song. He seconded the eerie playing of pianist Malcolm Martineau in "Das Doppelgänger" ("The Wraith") with singing of terrifying desolation and rage. And who could resist his quiet, come-hither confidence and downy attacks in "Das Fischermädchen" ("The Fisher Maiden")?

Terfel then destroyed the rapt mood he had created by introducing a set of Celtic songs with a chatty plug for Welsh tourism. Even so, one could only surrender to his lush, chestnut-colored timbre, wedded to the soft, liquid sounds of the Welsh tongue in "Ar Hyd y Nôs" ("All Through the Night") and "Sûl y Blodau" ("Flower Sunday"). A crooned final phrase detracted from an otherwise brisk, manly rendition of "Danny Boy": Listeners held their breath at the simplicity of Terfel's singing, and the magical way his tone grew wan as the song shifted to an otherworldly perspective.

The remainder of the program found such bracing artistry in short supply. Terfel milked for applause a memory lapse in Parry's "Love is a Bable"; he stifled the glow of Vaughan Williams' "Whither Must I Wander?" and Britten's "The Salley Gardens" with vocalism that was both precious and blasé. He brought a blustery, roguish relish, wholly in keeping with the song's spirit, to Warlock's "Captain Stratton's Fancy" (a paean to rum). But he smothered Britten's gently ribald "The Foggy, Foggy Dew" under a mass of arch music-hall mannerisms.

Abnegation, it seems, is not part of his larger-than-life makeup, nor can Terfel be pegged as a brute. He had the rare good sense to sing Tosti straight, capturing the elusive balance between gallantry and lasciviousness in "La serenata," and his vocalism in Schumann's "Du bist wie eine Blume" ("You Are Like a Flower"), like the beloved in Heine's poem, was so beautiful it hurt. The encores included Don Giovanni's serenade, cooed and purred as Terfel traipsed along the first row of the house. The audience ate it up, but Mozart—and Terfel's better angels—demanded more.

BYRN TERFEL , bass-baritone. Music by Schubert, Parry, Gurney, Vaughan Williams, Quilter, Warlock, R. Schumann, Britten and Tosti. Malcolm Martineau, piano. Attended Monday night at Carnegie Hall.