|
Lyon, 12
December 1998 Joel Kasow takes the opportunity to
examine several recent releases of Schumann lieder to poetry by
Heinrich Heine. This is the first of a continuing series that will
explore the song repertoire. Details of the recordings are available
at the end of the review.
Beethoven invented the song cycle, giving us "An die
ferne Geliebte", while Schubert perfected the genre by
concentrating on its narrative aspects ("Die schöne Müllerin",
"Die Winterreise") and giving us a tantalizing glimpse of
what might have been when he tackled the poetry of Heinrich Heine, six
glorious songs gathered after the composer's death along with some
unrelated material under the catch-all title "Schwanengesang".
Schumann's miraculous year of 1840, when he produced over 130 songs
scattered among various cycles or collections, is the consolidation of
the unified song cycle. Heine's poems offered suitable material for
Schumann to express his love for Clara Wieck, finally to become his
wife in September 1840 after five years of separation and an ultimate
legal battle against Clara's father.
Schumann's song cycles
vary enormously, from the linear narrative of "Frauenliebe und
-leben" to the mood pieces of the Opus 39 "Liederkreis"
(Eichendorff); the two Heine cycles are masterpieces in their own
right. The Opus 24 "Liederkreis" takes nine poems of varying
lengths, but all expressive of the composer's moods during the
difficult engagement period, and ties them thematically, tonally and
melodically into a coherent whole. While certain of the songs have
gained currency on their own, they function best within the context of
the cycle where they are additionally set off by the surrounding
music, even truer for the Opus 48 "Dichterliebe" where there
is a narrative aspect as well, though not as marked as in the two
classic Schubert cycles.
"Dichterliebe" has long
been popular on its own, with recordings going back to the 78 rpm era
by Aksel Schiøtz, Gerhard Hüsch, Charles Panzera and even
Lotte Lehmann (one of the few women to tackle what is generally
thought of as a man's cycle), while individual songs achieved a
certain popularity, "Ich grolle nicht" for example, where
one could be emphatic and show off a high A (or not, depending on the
degree of transposition). The Opus 24 set has only recently come into
favor as the pressure of the recording industry has made a virtue of
completeness, which is a partial explanation of the sudden appearance
of the first four sets listed above, following fairly rapidly on the
heels of similar albums by Wolfgang Holzmair (Philips) and Thomas
Allen (Virgin).
It is Hampson the scholar who has performed
a task for which gratitude is forthcoming from all sides. While
preparing to perform the "Dichterliebe" (recorded live in
Edinburgh in 1993 with the late Geoffrey Parsons and released the
following year on EMI 5 55147 2), Hampson searched out the original
manuscript in the Berlin Library, and found a longer and different
version of the piece under the title given in the headnote above. We
have long known the four additional songs published towards the end of
the composer's life, and a few courageous singers have even performed
the cycle interpolating those songs in their original locations, but
now we can hear Schumann's first version where the melodic lines and
rhythms are not always the same, the piano parts are sometimes
different, while some of the important postludes are differently
shaped. This takes some getting used to on the part of the listener,
not always helped by the "correct" accompaniments of
Wolfgang Sawallisch, who has been more inspired on other occasions.
Curiosity is aroused for the new edition promised by Hampson and
Renate Hilmar-Voit, for the annotations also refer to "[p]ersistently
repeated printing errors" in the current versions in print. This
is a version that is self-recommending for its scholarly virtues, with
the added attraction of Hampson's performance.
Matthias
Goerne's reading will also find admirers for the firm tone and
straightforward performance. Vladimir Ashkenazy, whose recent
appearances on disc have been disappointing, is here in matter-of-fact
vein, occasionally startling us with a wild postlude. Most disturbing
is the heavy breathing of the singer, as if he were gulping for air,
but that is most likely the fault of close microphone placement. This
is doubly unfortunate for the plangent tone is allied to a verbal
sensitivity that has few equals today, so that one finds it difficult
to choose between Goerne and Hampson, though of contemporary readings
both are required listening. Let me assure any cost-conscious
consumers that even at 50 minutes, this disc is nonetheless a
treasure.
Ian Bostridge is in a different category, for
starters because he is a tenor, but one whose intelligence is in
inverse proportion to the size of his voice. And that is his downfall,
because much as we can admire his intentions and much of his singing,
his tendency to overdo verbal inflection rapidly becomes an annoying
mannerism, as his way with the word "schreien" is "Abends
am Strand". The heroic is also not his domain, as we can hear at
the end of "Die beiden Grenadiere". This is nonetheless a
fascinating disc, as we discover a new exponent of lieder whose
development should be fascinating, especially if his German improves.
Julius Drake's accompaniments are discreet.
Another, even
younger performer is introduced by Claves. Stephan Genz was not yet 25
years old when this disc was recorded (Goerne is just over and
Bostridge just under 30), but the maturity he brings to these
performances is astonishing. We have all of Schumann's Heine settings
other than the "Dichterliebe", which allows us to hear the
rare "Feindlichen Brüder" and the complete "Tragödie"
in which the baritone is joined by his tenor brother. Where
comparisons with Bostridge are possible, we can appreciate the
simplicity of approach Genz brings to "Belsazar" or "Abends
am Strand", where all the points are made without the necessity
to underline the obvious. The voice, like that of Goerne or Hampson,
has an intrinsic beauty which in all three cases is paired with an
interpretative intelligence that is sufficient to assure us that the
art of lieder singing is not about to become extinct. It only remains
to be seen how his voice projects in concert, because a single hearing
last December when Genz sang a small role in Die lustige Witwe in
Paris was not especially audible. Again, the microphone placement is
very close for both singer and pianist, so that the piano is too often
percussive rather than offering a cushion for the voice.
For
anyone wishing to experience other performances of these cycles, I can
especially recommend Peter Pears and Benjamin Britten (Decca) or
Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau and Christoph Eschenbach (DGG); in both
instances, we have not only a masterful interpretation from the
singer, but the often-cited but too rarely experienced full
partnership with a pianist whose contribution is at the same level of
artistic achievement.
"Frauenliebe und -leben" may
be the most performed of Schumann's vocal works, grateful for the
performers and making no inordinate demands on an audience. The work
is often decried for its over-sentimental poetry, which has not - as
certain commentators would have us believe - fully inspired the
composer. Although it is not my favorite among Schumann's works, it is
nonetheless worthy of a certain esteem, even if its sappy verses will
appeal only to the most retrograde listeners. Waltraud Meier's new
recital disc is an error for the labored vocalism and interpretation -
if that is not too kind a word - that is omnipresent, as well as for
the invasive microphone placement that does not allow us to hear
Gerhard Oppitz's imaginative accompaniments. Too many engagements in
the Wagnerian soprano repertory have evidently robbed the singer's
voice of any suppleness so that even the simple turn is the second
song becomes a smudge. Brahms's Gypsy Songs are merely raucous.
A
reissue in DGG's Double series devoted to the Art of Elisabeth Höngen
is a fascinating reminder of an extraordinary artist. Her performances
of the Brahms and Schumann cycles, alongside a series of operatic
excerpts, show that she had little difficulty in making the transition
between opera and recital, finding an appropriate tone for each item.
Not only are Waltraute and Klytemnestra heard (the latter with
Christel Goltz's Elektra), but also Azucena, Lady Macbeth, Dalila and
Carmen, all in German, but in the light of these performances that is
a minor hindrance. Höngen's way of illuminating every word,
whether in Verdi or Wagner, remains a model that many singers today
might profitably study. It is not the size of the voice that matters
but the projection and the use of words that enable the singer to make
an effect.
|
|
|
OperaNet: Reviews
