This one- composer Liederabend, so characteristic
of the singer in its seriousness and intensity, attracted a full house
not so much for the music as for the artists; even those who expressed
the wish that Matthias Goerne had been singing Schubert or Schumann
came away full of new admiration for these wonderful songs. It was clearly
his intention 'to delight and to instruct,' and in this he was brilliantly
successful, to the extent that critics could be heard searching for
superlatives - but then, when has that not been the case for those fortunate
enough to be amongst the regular audiences for this prodigiously gifted
baritone? Each time I hear Goerne, his voice seems to have become not
only more beautiful but also richer and deeper, and the same can be
said of his interpretative skills.
The programme was constructed with his familiar mastery,
grouping songs based on poems of melancholy and obsessive love by various
poets, followed by a set of Daumer and von Platen, with the evening's
central work being the 'Vier ernste Gesänge' whose intensity was
then balanced by a set of exquisite Heine lyrics. It was also an opportunity
for the most wonderful vocal display, from sonorous, profound bass lines
to the most delicate, shimmering, ecstatic pianissimo. When every second
recital promises yet another bright new baritone or tempting just-hatched
tenor, this one is the real thing; a young singer so dedicated to his
art, so searching in his desire to collaborate with his accompanists,
so replete with every manifestation of true greatness, that you cannot
but come away feeling altered and enriched.
The very first song gave ample testimony to the view
that we were hearing the greatest voice of our time in the full flower
of its wondrous beauty. 'Die Mainacht' is not a crowd - pleasing opener
for a recital, with its troubled, melancholy language (reminiscent of
Heine's 'Was will die einsame Träne?') and its leaps from mellow
notes in the middle range of the voice to the most turbulent outbursts;
all of this Goerne managed with superb skill, his tone varying from
the meltingly lyrical at 'Wandl' ich traurig von Busch zu Busch' to
stunning fortes at 'Und die einsame Träne.'
The 'Lieder und Gesänge' Op. 57, a mini - cycle
based upon poems by Friedrich Daumer, are perfect vehicles for this
singer, with his poetic phrasing and ability to suggest the state of
being embroiled in obsessive love within just one line. As always with
Goerne, you are instantly there - he becomes the poet, the composer,
and you feel each song as though it has just been written. In 'Ach,
wende diesen blick' his singing of 'Das schlangengleich mich in das
Herze sticht' (that like a serpent eats into my heart) had a biting
intensity, and in 'Nicht mehr zu dir zu gehen' he encompassed a whole
lover's history in one short song, from the listless, forlorn quality
of '.jede Kraft und jeden Halt verlor ich' to the achingly touching
pleading of 'Nur dein gefühl enthülle mir, dein wahres! (but
show your feelings, and truly!) In 'Es traumte mir' we then heard two
minutes of the most absolute perfection that can be achieved in the
linking of singer and pianist; as the voice shaped the melancholy, yearning
words, the piano's falling - and rising melodic figure gave warning
of the delusory quality of the dream.
The first half of the recital ended with a series
of settings of Daumer and Platen, displaying the qualities of composer,
singer and pianist. 'Die Kränze' is one of Daumer's translations
from Greek, and its passionate, raw, obsessive nature was given free
rein in both singing and playing; 'Am Sonntag Morgen' was equally intense,
with such a tremendous display of anguished force at 'Um einsam die
Hände wund zu ringen' that not only the audience but also the accompanist
seemed startled.
The 'Vier ernste Gesänge' are amongst the greatest
works in the whole song repertory, and here they were given a performance
which not only confirmed their greatness (which does need confirming,
since many renditions serve to convince us only of their potential for
tedium) but set Goerne apart from every other singer today. This was
not a weary trudge through burdensome Biblical texts, nor was it a piece
of showmanship for its own sake; instead, one heard this music as though
for the first time, in performances which were simply peerless. No one
who was there will forget the drama, the searing intensity, the inwardness
of the singing; Goerne sings every line as though it is 'etwas heil'ges'
yet in such a way as to include all of us in the message of the music.
That the voice, with its bronze sheen and unmistakable poetic legato,
is a God-given instrument of unsurpassed beauty, would be enough in
itself, but to this he adds the ability to unfold a text with gripping
drama. It was abundantly clear that he feels these texts deeply, and
because he presents them with the most exalted musical values, you cannot
help but do so too. A marvellous performance in which one sensed Andsnes
at times having to run to keep up with the singer, but which was also
accompanied throughout with stirring virtuosity and passion.
Where could they go from there? Or, as a man behind
me said, 'Wow! Follow that!' But he did follow it, and go beyond it,
in performances of five Heine settings which are amongst Brahms' greatest
works. 'Sommerabend' and 'Mondenschein' make a sublime pair of songs,
together evoking the healing powers of night, and they were sung and
played with aching tenderness. 'Es schauen die Blumen' is a restless
song, redolent of yearning, presenting a challenge to the singer who
must evoke such heart-rending passion in so short a space of time; needless
to say this was achieved, the final 'wehmütig und trüb' resting
on the air long after it had been heard.
The evening's final song (and genuinely so, for there
were no encores, although the audience was warmly appreciative) was
the exquisite 'Lerchengesang' which ended the programme on a characteristically
uncompromising note; instead of a display of rumbustiousness or flirtation
á la Terfel or Quasthoff or Graham or indeed virtually any other
recitalist, Goerne chose to leave us with an extremely difficult piece
where the challenges are quite other than those presented by bravado
or coquettishness. This ecstatic song demands the most perfect legato
technique, the highest skill in pianissimo singing and the most delicate
word pointing, as well as the most virtuosic yet unshowy technique in
the accompaniment, especially in the instrument's depiction of the constant
song of the lark. Every one of these challenges was more than met, and
one just sat open-mouthed in wonder at the long - spun legato lines
in which the singer hardly seemed to breathe at all, and the extreme
softness and quietness which he was able to achieve without losing audibility.
If it is true that, as Keats wrote, 'The excellence
of every art is in its intensity,' then this recital reached the highest
levels of art, both in the singing and the playing. Such singing, in
which you sense that the words are being sung through the core of the
singer's body, makes other performers seem superficial and awakens in
the listener a sense of wonder at the artistry of this man, still so
young and yet already so complete a musician in every way. A wonderful
evening.
Melanie Eskenazi
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