*** "Why, Dr. Burgess, why?'' The question concerning his decision to retire as a singer arose within bars of Gary Burgess' opening aria, and recurred incessantly in my mind -- as I am sure it did in many others -- throughout the tenor's farewell performance at the Ruth Seaton James Centre for the Performing Arts on September 30.

Not even his surprising admission following the intermission that he had been "under the weather'' lately could erase the question, for the reality was that the mellifluous beauty of Dr. Gary Burgess's voice had lost none of its lustre, nor his interpretations any of their glory, since first we heard him in Bermuda -- as offering after offering in the varied programme confirmed.

Sitting through the recital, therefore, became a bittersweet experience. On the one hand we basked in the outpouring of his artistry, and on the other there was the pervasiveness of a heavy heart knowing that, even as we savoured his wonderful talent, every note brought us closer to the end of years of listening pleasure.

Meanwhile, through a carefully crafted programme which demonstrated the versatility, range and profound knowledge of his art, Dr. Burgess provided something for everyone, including opera, lieder, holy songs and spirituals, while at the same time paying homage to special milestones and personalities in his glittering, 40-year career.

As befits an opera singer's final public appearance, his opening choice was the aptly-titled aria, Here I Stand from Stravinsky's Rake's Progress -- in which, ironically, he made his European debut as Tom. Sung in English with impeccable diction, it made a commanding start.

There followed a group of four favourite songs by Brahms, sung in flawless German and rendered, as appropriate, with warmth, sensitivity and richness.

If these opened the window on the range of Dr. Burgess' voice, Schubert's Auf dem Strom (On the River), also sung in German, flung it wide. Acknowledged as an arduous piece for both singer and French horn (in this case expertly played by Kent Hayward), its demands posed no difficulties for either of these consummate performers as they sailed gracefully through the long and challenging passages together.

In short, a lovely work beautifully wrought.

Though surely no explanation was necessary, having sung the first half of his programme entirely from memory, Dr. Burgess now advised his audience that, because of his recent indisposition, he would sing the second half with the aid of printed scores since he could not think about his voice and rely on his memory for the words at the same time.

Such modesty! -- and of course this adjustment made not one whit of difference to the quality or professionalism of his performance. The works, after all, were old friends which he had sung for years, and were embraced as such.

Next came four songs by Henry Duparc, so chosen because through some of them he had won the coveted Debussy prize in a major Parisian competition.

Singing in French, Dr. Burgess addressed each piece with affection, carefully portraying the qualities which mark their differences. The varying moods and emotions of L'invitation du voyage were nicely drawn, while Extase was an effortless blend of deftness and poignancy. Phidyle m captured the longing and urgency of a lover impatiently awaiting the reward of a kiss and smile from his lady, and Le manoir de Rosemonde was equally moving.

Changing gears and singing again in English, the tenor then performed Cycle of Holy Songs in homage to their composer and his old friend, Ned Rorem. The duo had served on the faculty of the State University of New York, and Dr. Burgess had also sung at the composer's 70th birthday.

While not especially long, Rorem's four psalms made engaging listening, and were sung with great feeling.

Spirituals are always deeply moving, and the four which Dr. Burgess chose to conclude his programme went straight to the heart. Emotion-filled and superbly crafted, Ev'ry time I feel de Spirit, Deep River, Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child, and Wade in de Water left in their wake an indelible memory of a glorious, golden voice and a huge sadness that this gifted son of the soil would be heard no more. But if Dr. Burgess was done with his audience, it certainly was not done with him. Following a prolonged standing ovation, he returned for a short encore: When I Have Sung My Songs To You I Will Sing No More, by Ernest Charles.

His gentle voice breaking, he said softly, "This is my last,'' before turning away briefly to wipe his eyes (he wasn't the only one), and then launched into this short piece, some of the words of which were: "That I could never sing again, except to you.'' Then, clutching a magnificent bouquet, and after warmly embracing his piano accompanist, Dr. Karol Sue Reddington, whose performance throughout was outstanding, the great man was gone.

Suddenly, the answer to "Why, Dr. Burgess, why?'' became clear. In the world of show biz, the wise artist says: "Always leave them wanting more.'' And so he did.

Dr. Gary Burgess: His voice had lost none of its lustre, nor his interpretations any of their glory, since first we heard him in Bermuda -- as offering after offering in the varied programme confirmed.

THEATRICAL REVIEW THR REV