United States Various: Benjamin Bernheim (tenor), Carrie-Ann Matheson (piano). Alice Tully Hall, New York, 21.4.2026. (RP)
For an international star tenor, Benjamin Bernheim’s appearances in New York have been relatively few and all were at the Metropolitan Opera: the Duke in Verdi’s Rigoletto, Roméo in Gounod’s Roméo et Juliette and the title role in Offenbach’s Les contes d’Hoffmann. He is not scheduled to sing at the Met next season, but his New York recital debut at Alice Tully Hall was an indicator of what to expect when and if he returns there.
The marvelous open sound of his voice, present from his early years with the International Opera Studio in Zurich, has remained a constant. His keen sense of drama is a given, but it is the spontaneity and authenticity of his singing that are so remarkable. These traits were on constant display in this recital, as was the impressive size of his voice which filled the hall with ease and then some.
Bernheim invited the audience into a languid world of beauty and adventure, singing Duparc’s ‘L’invitation au voyage’. At the piano, Carrie-Ann Matheson created the languid, shimmering atmosphere upon which Bernheim’s voice sinuously floated. He followed with equally captivating performances of Duparc’s ‘Chanson triste’ and ‘Phidylé’, in which he sang the shepherdess’s name with such tenderness and wonder.
Bernheim has sung the role of Lensky in Tchaikovsky’s Eugene Onegin to great success. His compelling performance of ‘Kuda, kuda, vi udalilis’, which captured Lensky’s despair with such poignancy, as well as his clarion high notes revealed why. There was poetry to which he gave voice.
With the 2026/2027 season, Bernheim is venturing into heavier roles, including Don José in Bizet’s Carmen at the Bayerische Staatsoper. In the ‘Flower Song’, the most beautiful, touching moments were when he gave voice to Don José’s love for Carmen. His voice reverberated through the hall with an ear-shattering intensity in Don José’s final, desperate declarations of love. These upcoming Munich performances should cement Bernheim’s claim on the role.
‘Je crois entendre encore’ from Bizet’s Les pêcheurs de perles was magical. The seamless legato and sensuality that Bernheim brought to the aria made it the high point of the first half of the recital, although the radiance and ardor of ‘Ah! Lève-toi, soleil!’ from Gounod’s Roméo et Juliette made that one a near equal. The first half concluded with a full-voiced ‘Una furtiva lagrima’ from Donizetti’s L’elisir d’amore that captured Nemorino’s zealousness but not his humanity.
Unusual for such a recital was the lack of a program or texts, which Bernheim acknowledged after intermission. It was not a problem in the first half – all the pieces were standard fare, but more so for the rest of the recital. Bernheim stepped into the breach by providing introductions to the remaining works on the program, starting with a tribute to his voice teacher at the Lausanne Conservatory, Gary Magby.
Bernheim’s parents were opera singers, as was his grandmother. In his youth, the tenor was conflicted about singing, but with Magby’s patient guidance, he grew to embrace it. Magby’s methods were unconventional at times, such as assigning him Riccardo’s arias from Verdi’s Un ballo in maschera when he was only 19. Their go-to piece, which Bernheim said they would return to whenever the going got rough to ground himself and recenter his voice, was Ildebrando Pizzetti’s ‘I pastori’. It is one of the gems of early-twentieth-century song, which Bernheim instilled with romance, nostalgia, remarkable detail and obvious affection.
In the three songs by Puccini, Bernheim provided emotional intensity and a burnished tone to these expressions of passion and love. Their melodies are familiar, with ’Mentìa l’avviso’ later finding its way into Manon Lescaut, while ‘Sole e amore’ returned in another form in La bohème.
The best was yet to come when Bernheim became a boulevardier singing three classics from that incomparable mid-twentieth-century era of French popular song. The first was Charles Tenet’s ‘Douce France’, written in 1943 during the Nazi occupation of France. Bernheim combined suavity with nostalgia in what was an anthem of hope for the French during those difficult times. Matheson provided the right soupçon of vim and panache to send it soaring. A wave of recognition swept through the audience as Bernheim sang Joseph Kosma’s ‘Les feuilles mortes’, known in English as ‘Autumn Leaves’. He enriched it with a smooth elegance tinged with wistfulness, which Matheson elevated with her solo spin on the melody.
The recital closed with Jacques Brel’s ‘Quand on n’a que l’amour’, or ‘If we only have love’. Written in 1956 during the Algerian War, this anthem against war and social injustice would be heard at protests against the Vietnam War. Bernheim raised the banner for change, hope and peace in a rousing voice and roiling emotion that brought the audience to its feet.
There were two encores, the first another glimpse into the future, with a sensitively sung ‘E lucevan le stelle’ from Puccini’s Tosca, a role he will premiere next season at Berlin’s Staatsoper Unter den Linden. The final offering was ‘Pourquoi me réveiller?’ from Massenet’s Werther, perhaps the role that Bernheim has a claim to more than any other. The sheer splendor of his voice, coupled with the agonizing desperation he brought to the aria, proved why.
Rick Perdian
Henri Duparc – ‘L’invitation au voyage’, ‘Chanson triste’, ‘Phidylé’
Tchaikovsky – ‘Kuda, kuda, vi udalilis’ (Eugene Onegin)
Bizet – ‘La fleur que tu m’avais jetée’ (Carmen); ‘Je crois entendre encore’ (Les pêcheurs de perles)
Gounod – ‘Ah! Lève-toi, soleil!’ (Roméo et Juliette)
Donizetti – ‘Una furtiva lagrima’ (L’elisir d’amore)
Ildebrando Pizzetti – ‘I pastori’
Puccini – ‘Mentìa l’avviso’, ‘Terra e mare’, ‘Sole e amore’
Charles Trenet – ‘Douce France’
Joseph Kosma – ‘Les feuilles mortes’
Jacques Brel – ‘Quand on n’a que l’amour’
Encores: Puccini – ‘E lucevan le stelle’ (Tosca); Massenet – ‘Pourquoi me réveiller?’ (Werther)