"the arrival of his wife/mother Jocasta in Act Two, in the form of the Austrian mezzo Angelika Kirchschlager in a sparkling gold gown, raised the stakes. She brought heightened drama with her singing, body language and stage presence."

Philip Radcliffe, The Arts Desk, 14 March 2013

"„La voix humaine“ von Francis Poulenc [...] Um hier die Spannung über eine Dreiviertelstunde zu halten, braucht es schon einen Emotions-Hydranten wie Angelika Kirchschlager. Eine Darstellerin, die Gesang nicht als reine Produktion von Schönklang betrachtet, sondern primär als Gefühlsvehikel; die den Mut zum fahlen, fast erstickten Piano ebenso hat wie zum hysterischen Ausbruch. Kurz, der die ganze Palette an Ausdrucksmitteln zu Gebote steht, um diesem Nervenbündel in seiner existenziellen Krise eine glaubwürdige Stimme geben zu können – alleine auf der Bühne, schutzlos diesen Emotionen und Poulencs hochexpressiver Musik ausgeliefert."  Die Presse / 20 February 2013 / Helmar Dumbs

"Ein aufwühlender Monolog, den Angelika Kirchschlager zu gestalten versteht. Mit zurückgenommener Gestik, ohne Requisiten. Die „menschliche Stimme“ steht im Mittelpunkt."  Kurier / 20 February 2013

"The Austrian mezzo-soprano obviously savours the poetry, focuses emotion with natural vigour, conveys whimsy, charm and pain with apt precision. Most important, perhaps, she avoids exaggeration at every quirky turn. And, yes, she sings beautifully."

ft.com, Martin Bernheimer, 4 February 2013

Ian Bostridge and Angelika Kirchschlager sang beautifully on Sunday afternoon at Alice Tully Hall. [...] Both singers are big names who rarely appear on opera stages this side of the Atlantic, and the reputations of their voices - Mr. Bostridge's cleareyed tenor, Ms. Kirchschlager's richly hued mezzo - would have been sufficient to draw a capacity crowd to their recital of Hugo Wolf songs, presented as part of Lincoln Center's Great Performers series.

But more important, they are just that: artists who in concert deliver performances so vivid that they create an impression of spontaneous communication with the audience. [...]

In Ms. Kirchschlager's rendition of "Mühvoll Komm ich und Beladen" ("In Toil I Come, and Laden"), her downward sloping lines over dense harmonies gave physical weight to the text. On the word "beladen" she flattened her voice into a moan.

The texts of the secular songs that followed revisited the familiar topic of love's power to cause ecstasy, agony and embarrassment. Here Ms. Kirchschlager and Mr. Bostridge, who alternated throughout the program, slipped into character even as they passed each other on their way to and from the piano. They exchanged sulking, I-dare-you glances; Ms. Kirchschlager flicked the skirt of her long, flowing dress as if she were a flamenco dancer.

The musicians seemed to be engaged in a three-way game of tease, where the piano most often had the last laugh. In "Trau Nicht der Liebe" ("Trust Not Love"), which Ms. Kirchschlager delivered with a wait-for-it elasticity of tempo, her final threat to make her beloved weep sounded dead serious, except for the mocking retort in the piano.

The encore finally brought Ms. Kirchschlager and Mr. Bostridge together in a duet, Schumann's "Liebhabers Ständchen" ("Lover's Serenade"), which fully exploited their scorching chemistry.

New York Times / 6 February 2013 / Corinna da Fonseca-Wollheim

"Kirchschlager [...] began by summoning up the green sap of spring in a robust ramble through Mörike’s Auf eine Wanderung. Wolf soon turned to the poet’s shadowy side, bidding farewells to love in Lebe wohl and Das verlassne Magdlein, both heavy with a Wagnerian chromaticism in which both Kirchschlager and Drake revelled.

The trick — or one of them — with Wolf is to grasp the full expanse of the song’s grand design while cherishing the essential miniaturism of its detail. This was Kirchschlager’s great strength: she’d reveal the long hill-top view while also drawing us close to the wing-beat of a single bee."

The Times, Hilary Finch, January 2013

"Hugo Wolf doesn't get better than this. Part of Julius Drake's ongoing exploration of the Goethe and Mörike Songbooks, the evening found two of the great Wolf interpreters, Dietrich Henschel and Angelika Kirchschlager, in a programme that reminded us of the composer's interest in extreme emotions, even psychopathology. [...] Kirchschlager's voice has grown in weight and opulence; at times, such as the suddenly violent climax of Das Verlassene Mädgelein, she let the sound out at full throttle to thrilling effect. Elsewhere, for example in Im Frühling, you were left spellbound by the sheer beauty of her sense of line." The Guardian, Tim Ashley, 8 January 2013

'Kirchschlager blended beautifully with the contrapuntal woodwind lines in the first aria, ‘The maidens come’, before her recitative-like prayer descended to a rich, contemplative warmth for the entreaty, “After ther liff grant them/ A place eternally to sing”. In the long central carol,‘Tomorrow shall be my dancing day’, players (flutes, oboes and cello) and singer mastered the intricate series of canonical devices and increasingly intense dissonances, with lucidity and precision, the at times unblended instrumental timbres underpinning Bostridge’s beautifully decorated cantilena lines.' Claire Seymour, Opera Today, 11 July 2012

"(Il Combattimento di Tancredi) Yet the dominant mode of this madrigal is solemn rather than martial, and it was here that Angelika Kirchschlager, who shared the narration with Bostridge dominated with her rich and centred mezzo, giving a miniature masterclass in the expressive shading of words as Monteverdi's drama reached its ever more poignant later pages." Martin Kettle, The Guardian, 7 July 2012