MUSIC REVIEW : Soprano Cheryl Parrish Delivers Artful Touch

Now internationally known, Cheryl Parrish has earned in the past decade a solid reputation as a charming and reliable operatic singer.

Los Angeles and San Francisco saw and heard her Sophie in “Der Rosenkavalier” in the mid-1980s; at that time, our exigent critic unashamedly pronounced Parrish’s Sophie “adorable.”

During the same period, the soprano from Texas sang her first Los Angeles-area recital, at Caltech. Just two miles away, at Ambassador Auditorium, Monday night, she again displayed her artistry, versatility and accomplishment to date.

Parrish offered a serious program, balancing the familiar and the little-known, and sang it convincingly. Through this generous agenda, she was assisted splendidly by Alan Smith at the piano.

Smith in fact acted in capacities beyond that of keyboard collaborator. He wrote some of the program notes, made translations, and composed the penultimate item on the program, a sober but attractive, five-part cycle based on Matthew Arnold’s “The Buried Life.”

During the evening, the duo produced touching and artful music. Though it served mostly to warm up the singer, Mozart’s “L’amero, saro costante,” made its musical points deftly, Parrish & Smith infusing it with momentum, detail and stylishness.

Lieder by Schumann and Richard Strauss--especially three early (1880-83) songs by Strauss--showed the soprano radiant in tone, resourceful in word-coloration, persnickety about musical values. Smith supported sweepingly but tightly.

Except for bothersome and recurring moments of off-center intonation, Parrish’s vocal authority, especially in her arias--Juliet’s Waltz-Song, Adele’s Laughing Song, and, as second encore, Heuberger’s “Im chambre separee”--matched her considerable musical attainments.

Smith’s cycle, “The Buried Life,” takes on perhaps more than a composer ought to attempt: a lengthy and wordy text on a largely abstract subject.

Nevertheless, with measurable good humor and apparently abundant skills, the 34-year-old composer, writing in post-Barberian tonality, both treats the voice with tact and offers it grateful music to sing.

Not surprisingly, the most successful of these five items is the one with the fewest words. Parrish, singing from memory, gave the composer’s handiwork the same care and affection she brought to songs by Schumann and Strauss.