Aigul Akhmetshina, the young mezzo-soprano from Bashkortostan, has released her debut album. During her time with the Royal Opera House’s Jette Parker Artists Programme in London, Akhmetshina performed as Carmen in Peter Brook’s shortened version of Bizet’s opera. She later covered the main role at the Royal Opera House while performing Mércèdes. In 2018, in a moment reminiscent of “A Star is Born,” she stepped into the main role for three performances, gaining considerable attention not only for her success but also for her age—just twenty-one. This marked the beginning of her rapid ascent in the opera world.
She wisely began with lighter Rossini and smaller roles, such as Lola, Maddalena, Olga, and Fenena. Now, Carmen has become her signature role, with Akhmetshina leading new productions at major venues like the Met, Covent Garden, and Glyndebourne over the past year. Her solo album arrives at just the right moment, featuring Carmen’s Habanera, Seguidilla, and Card Scene. The album demonstrates why audiences are so captivated by her: her voice is extraordinary, rich in tone, seamlessly connected across registers, evenly colored from top to bottom unless she intentionally alters its shade, and capable of remarkably precise coloratura. It’s a luxurious mezzo, akin to a Rolls Royce, both opulent and refined.
This can occasionally present a challenge. The sheer perfection of Akhmetshina’s delivery can sometimes result in a performance that lacks energy or distinct character. Her Habanera is smooth and refined, yet it doesn’t fully convey Carmen’s unpredictable nature or playful subtleties—consider Callas, who uses simple vocal inflections to add depth, playfully emphasizing “prends garde à toi” with a teasing smile. Akhmetshina, however, misses these nuances. She also introduces an awkward aspiration each time she sings “si tu ne m’aimes pas, je t’aime,” adding an “H” before the “A.” Additionally, there’s a misplaced grace note on the first occurrence of the phrase, which should only appear on the second. Fortunately, she brings more life to the Seguidilla, clearly enjoying both the music and the text, and she demonstrates musical precision. She effectively uses her head voice as low as possible but knows when to switch to a rich chest tone for impact. Tenor Freddie De Tommaso makes little impact in his brief moments as Don José, slightly sharp on one note and with a catch in his voice. Moving on, the Card Scene is compelling, perhaps where Akhmetshina’s powerful voice is most suited to the drama of the piece, with a resonant chest voice that rings out on a D flat. She is well-supported by Elisabeth Boudreault and Kezia Bienek, who bring life to their roles as Mércèdes and Frasquita.
Charlotte in “Werther” is an excellent role for Akhmetshina, and she outshone an under-the-weather Jonas Kaufmann at Covent Garden last year. Massenet’s dark orchestration complements the serious quality of her voice, allowing the emotions to simmer beneath the surface. There is a greater sense of contrast, though as she begins to read Werther’s letter—Charlotte’s moment of emotional unraveling—she doesn’t vary the tone to reflect the shift from nostalgia to anguish, but merely increases the volume.
Romeo in Bellini’s “I Capuleti e i Montecchi” is a role Akhmetshina has performed only once in concert. After a somewhat understated “Ascolta,” which lacks the forceful command expected and instead sounds more like she might be reading a fairy tale to the Bailli’s children in “Werther,” she truly shines in “Se Romeo t’uccise un figlio.” Her voice soars, particularly in the aria’s ascending phrases, and the cabaletta is beautifully ornamented. She ends with an exhilarating top C, although it’s a shame she fades out a few bars before this (which might be more understandable onstage than in a studio recording). Her performance in the Act Two aria is equally compelling.
Rossini’s works suit Akhmetshina remarkably well. Both her Cenerentola and Rosina (“Barbiere”) reveal a different aspect of her artistry—a lightness of touch, with a smile in the tone—and she delivers some spectacular roulades and flawless runs. Her variations are striking, with a top C sharp achieved at one point. Her portrayal of Rosina is playful yet assertive, capturing the essence of a young woman determined to get her way. The album concludes with a traditional Russian folk song from her homeland, conveying a simple, heartfelt longing for one’s roots, tinged with a sense of homesickness. Akhmetshina delivers it with sincere simplicity.
Daniele Rustioni leads the Royal Philharmonic with a keen ear for his soloist, especially with some delicate string playing in “Carmen.” The recorded sound quality is excellent, maintaining a well-balanced relationship between voice and orchestra. It is a very good album, though not quite a great one—that will likely come with more experience. It will be fascinating to see where Akhmetshina’s career takes her next.
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