Imagine a burly, Samoan-born teenager in New Zealand, eager to play rugby. There was just one catch: to join the team, he had to sing in the choir. This unique school policy, as Pene Pati once recounted, led to a remarkable sight: a choir brimming with robust young men, and a rugby team that would belt out their anthem on the field before passionately taking on their opponents.
This unusual path ultimately forged one of classical music’s most improbable and captivating figures. Pati has since charmed critics and audiences alike on prestigious international stages, including his Metropolitan Opera debut in January as the Duke in Verdi’s “Rigoletto.” His rendition of “Nessun dorma” has captivated hundreds of thousands online, with many drawing comparisons between his lush voice and effortless high notes to the legendary Pavarotti. A recent album featuring Neapolitan songs further solidifies this striking resemblance to the iconic tenor.
Just this past Wednesday, at the elegant Board of Officers Room within the Park Avenue Armory, Pati delivered his New York recital debut. The program was a fascinating, distinctive mix of French, English, and German songs, serving as a magnificent showcase for his rich, lyrical tenor. More impressively, it highlighted his innate sensitivity as a chamber musician, deeply attuned to the subtle hues and intricacies of each language. His profound connection to French poetry, in particular, shone brilliantly through the initial half of the program, featuring exquisite compositions by Fauré, Henri Duparc, and Lili Boulanger. His precise diction and effortlessly fluid phrasing allowed him to fully embrace and convey the inherent sensuality of the French texts.
During Duparc’s “L’invitation au voyage,” a piece evoking a lovers’ dream of sensuous paradise, Pati savored the consonants of “volupté” with an almost palpable, erotic delight. Fauré’s three brief songs from “Poème d’un jour” unfolded like a concise, poignant drama, navigating the emotional landscape from initial infatuation through the depths of heartbreak to eventual resignation.
Accompanying him at the piano, Ronny Michael Greenberg proved to be an exceptionally sensitive and perceptive partner. In Duparc’s “Phidylé,” a piece imbued with the tension of suspended desire, Pati masterfully softened his voice, allowing it to gently blend with the piano’s rich textures. He held back, only to unleash a breathtaking surge of sound on the climactic final line: “reward me for my patience!” Similarly, in Boulanger’s “Clairières dans le ciel” (or “Clearings in the sky”), Pati achieved an ethereal, luminous vocal quality, maintaining a reverent tenderness through every melodic contour. His signature technique often includes floating pianissimos and meticulously controlled diminuendos, which in a voice of such innate power, create a truly astonishing effect, akin to a Kashmir shawl woven so finely it can pass through a finger ring.
The latter half of the concert opened with works by the Victorian composer Roger Quilter. What might appear as mere parlor prettiness on paper was, in Pati’s hands, transmuted into something far more profound. He infused these songs with a luminous gravity, forging a palpable link to their underlying themes of gratitude and wonder.
The subsequent three Britten songs emerged as the undisputed highlight of the night. In “The Last Rose of Summer,” Pati’s vocal color shifted deftly between shades of darkness and light. He embellished the melodic lines with a subtle tremor, powerfully evoking the desolate beauty of Thomas Moore’s poetry. Conversely, “The Choirmaster’s Burial” brimmed with life, brought vividly to stage through Pati’s remarkable acting prowess.
The Strauss selections, however, proved somewhat less compelling. His German felt less authentically delivered, and the performance seemed more external than truly internalized. On a few occasions, Pati pushed his voice to a rather theatrical extent. Yet, the concise monodrama “Ach weh mir unglückhaftem Mann,” which tells the humorous tale of a penniless suitor dreaming of arriving at his beloved’s home in a splendid carriage, delighted the audience with its vibrant, multi-character portrayal, drawing genuine laughter.
Pati concluded his recital with encores that struck a deeply vulnerable chord. First, Giulio Caccini’s “Amarilli, mia bella,” delivered with poignant restraint and heartfelt directness. This was followed by a moving Samoan song, “Le manutagi e ua tagi ta’amilo,” a piece about yearning for home, which he touchingly dedicated to his father, who frequently sang it. It was a profound tribute, celebrating the rich musical heritage of his Samoan origins while also acknowledging the personal sacrifices inherent in pursuing a dream career on distant international stages, far from his native New Zealand.
Pene Pati
Performed on Wednesday at the Armory.