"It is God, whom you are praising." These are the closing words of Schubert's Dem Unendlichen, with which Waltraud Meier ended her recital. For some, the German mezzo is a goddess - and she was duly cheered to the rafters. Others, however, were clearly perplexed by what they heard. While Meier was off the platform between groups of songs, a number of people headed for the exits.

Her recital raised questions as to why she is tackling lieder in the first place. Meier is, without question, a major "singing-actor", a definition that presupposes a willingness to overlook vocal inequalities in the context of a fully integrated theatrical characterisation. In the extreme operatic roles with which she is associated - Wagner's Ortrud and Kundry, Marie in Berg's Wozzeck - she can be fabulous. On the recital platform, however, the reactive quality essential to great drama is missing and Meier's vocal deficiencies are remorselessly exposed.

The sound itself is no longer beautiful, though at full throttle - in the post-Wagnerian agony of Wolf's Wo Find Ich Trost and at the climaxes of Schubert's Erlkönig and Der Zwerg - it can be thrilling. Elsewhere, however, register breaks - cultivated, one suspects, for effect in the theatre - get in the way. The floating line of Schubert's Du Bist die Ruh is marred by awkward gear changes. All too often, those register breaks lead to wavering pitch when she's singing softly. There are moments in Schubert's Nacht und Träume and Brahms's Die Mainacht that set your teeth on edge. She also seems not to have found the requisite balance with her pianist, Nicholas Carthy, whose playing is either overemphatic or inappropriately delicate. In recital, Meier is a swan out of water. It is to be hoped that the next time we hear her, she will be back on stage -where she is at her best.