Why would a 23-year-old sing Schumann's "Dichterliebe"? Because he can. He really can, Brad Alexander does, and he proved it today at the Schwabacher Debut Recital in San Francisco's Old First Church. Vocally exceptional, emotionally-intellectually well on the way, it was a remarkable reading of a classic masterpiece that is always a challenge, even for noted baritones twice Alexander's age. Very young people can write great music or perform it brilliantly on the piano or violin, but singing requires maturity - physical and otherwise - especially so in the lower range. (Please concentrate on not thinking about a certain English lass or pink elephants; we do not want to go there.) Alexander, a Merola graduate and current Adler Fellow, is winning prizes left and right these days, but he is apparently not interested in making "Ciao, Brad" just yet. He used the opportunity of his recital debut to present a low-key, difficult, important piece of music. That's an A for good intentions. The same high grade goes for a thoughtful, sincere presentation. The equipment is outstanding: a high, warm, lyric baritone, but with some steel underneath. It's a voice producing a clean sound, even in the echo-filled din of the hall. Most of the diction was excellent, but with some swallowed syllables here and there. Medium grade goes for conveying the varied, deep feelings of both Schumann's music and Heine's text. All those tears did not flow sufficiently, although the enchantment with the lover (and love itself) was well expressed. Upbeat songs - "The Rose, the Lily," "There Is Fluting and Fiddling" - were fine, but the deep, strong resentment of "I Bear No Grudge" wasn't nearly intense enough. On a more elementary level, there were numerous (although slight) problems with intonation. Beyond fault-finding, however, there was a beautifully sung cycle, made whole by John Parr's partnering (rather than "accompaniment") on the piano. The concluding passage was simply glorious. Withal, the Schumann served as a warm-up act - ridiculous as that may sound about "Dichterliebe." This was a joint recital, with the second half taken up by 26-year-old Elena Bocharova, a former Merola and Adler participant. She too chose an unconventional, bold program. The seven Tchaikovsky and eight Rachmaninov songs Bocharova presented were quiet, thoughtful pieces (with one riotous exception), and although the Russian-born San Franciscan has a big voice, she avoided showy, "popular" music. Bocharova is at the beginning of a promising opera career, singing Mercedes in an upcoming Seattle "Carmen" and Olga in the Hawaii Opera Theater "Eugene Onegin." She has the perfect voice for both, but clearly she is working up to Carmen herself, Dalila, maybe Eboli, certainly lyric mezzo roles, to which she can bring extra power. Hers is a rich, well-projected, "very Russian" mezzo, unusual in that category by her attention to detail and the meaning of the text. The Tchaikovsky songs, especially, sound pretty much the same, to a non-Russian audience, but Bocharova's approach to them, her artistic integrity, brought out the subtle differences, the wealth of detail under the apparent similarity of the main musical lines. Better-known songs, such as "None But the Lonely Heart," were "balanced" with the likes of the wonderful Tchaikovsky-Apukhtin "Does the Day Reign?" "Not a Word, O My Friend" and "To Forget So Soon" made a deep impression. The exception to the over-all Chekhovian resignation and quiet sorrow was "The Cuckoo," a very funny and somewhat suicidal song, which ends with an endless string of imitations of the bird's call. Bocharova finally brought her hand to her throat and then, Parr working up to a big final "Cuckoo!" she stepped forward, opened her mouth. . . and no sound came forth. The mezzo, I believe, is the first singer in the Schwabacher recital series appearing in a designer gown. The dress' black mat material is also used as a stole and, apron-like, it comes down front to the floor, with white lace showing through side slits. I have no idea who the designer is, but the inevitable word for the costume is "interesting." Janos Gereben/SF [log in to unmask]