Originally published on Dec. 13, 2003

When you're a great diva and you want to sing about the small matter of gods going up in flames, you can't just step out on stage and start cold. You have to build to the idea, maybe warming up with a little infanticide and some free-floating insanity.

That Hildegard Behrens was able to convey any of those ideas so fully, outside of their operatic context and without benefit of a full orchestra, is a sure sign of an extraordinary power to transport listeners to another realm. In her recital Thursday night at the Perelman Theater with pianist Ken Noda, the soprano interspersed arias of increasing levels of unhingedness with quieter songs of Schumann and Wagner.

It was a program that made anyone in the audience who had never had a nervous breakdown feel underdressed for the occasion. But it all worked, and the reason it worked had totally to do with the personality. Aside from a general mystique about the Wagnerian, who has an admirable track record with maestros Karajan, Levine and Ozawa, Behrens has that ineffable glow of greatness that floats around her. She is one of those performers who make it impossible to look away, to lose attention for even a second.

A word about age. Behrens is 66, which is not usually prime time for a classical soprano. But like Felicity Lott, Anja Silja and Thomas Allen, Behrens knows her instrument's strengths and how to deploy them smartly. She still has enormous power. She sent some notes out into the 650-seat hall like well-placed missiles. Yes, sometimes her voice is a bit brittle. Starting edges of notes sometimes arrived with small tears in their sound. But the character in her voice is more than ample compensation for any small deficiencies.

In "Elektra's Monologue," the long excerpt from Strauss' Elektra in which the world's most emotionally tortured soul sings about baths of blood and fumes of blood and the steam of blood, pianist Noda did his best to replicate an enormous orchestral part. It's no easy task, and the performance, without the instrumental insanity, couldn't quite communicate the scene's full drama. But in this context you could hear things in Behrens' voice that might have been lost in the Metropolitan Opera house: her bass-clarinet lower register, high notes that materialized with the sudden power of a trumpet.

Noda's strengths were more evident in Schumann's Frauenliebe und Leben (Op. 42) and, especially, in Wagner's Wesendonck Lieder, where his timing with Behrens seemed like a subtle form of telepathy.

Contact music critic Peter Dobrin at 215-854-5611 or pdobrin@phillynews.com.