SEEN AND HEARD INTERNATIONAL

Schumann,   Das Paradies und die Peri: Sally Matthews (soprano), Mark Padmore (tenor), Bernarda Fink (mezzo-soprano), Kate Royal (soprano), Timothy Robinson (tenor), David Wilson-Johnson (bass), Choir of the Enlightenment, Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment, Sir Simon Rattle (conductor), Royal Festival Hall, London, 7.12.2007 (AO)


The Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment is aptly named.  This was most certainly an enlightening concert, even though, I suspect it was a little hard to take for ears accustomed to the extravaganzas of the late 19^th century.  Some ten years ago, in this very same hall, John Eliot Gardiner conducted Das Paradies und die Peri, spearheading its revival and as Gardiner said then, this work needs to be approached on its own terms.  Coming to terms with Das Paradies is important because later German music can’t really be appreciated without an understanding of the context from which it developed.  Because we live in an era of recording, it’s all too easy to forget that music was always meant to be seen as well as heard. Drama in music does not automatically mean opera. Liturgical music, for example, was meant to be an inspiring experience, uplifting all senses.  The Christian Mass is inherently dramatic :  the great oratorio tradition grew from this basic impulse.  Heinrich Schütz’s Passions are extremely beautiful, effective examples of Bible as theatre.

Das Paradies und die Peri springs from that great tradition which goes right back to the Reformation, with its emphasis on the vernacular. The Protestant revolution in central Europe, one could suggest, made Goethe “possible”. Goethe, incidentally, indulged in early German opera and Singspiele.  From the 16^th century, then, a chain runs on between  Mozart and Handel, to Weber and Mendelssohn and to Schumann. We don’t get nearly enough exposure to this tradition, but it is a crucially important one, flowing throughout the rest of the century and beyond.

Die Paradies und die Peri may seem quaint and antiquated to ears accustomed to the extravaganzas of the later 19^th century, but as Gardiner said so long ago, we need to listen to it with ears free of preconception.  Many of the values of its time may seem high kitsch to us, but to audiences in the 1840’s this was cutting edge stuff.  The text is based on Thomas Moore’s poem Lalla Rookh.  Highly perfumed orientalism was the era’s way of expressing dangerous ideas in disguised form and  beneath the exoticism, this is a tale about breaking of barriers.  The idea of a half-human, half-angel being falling in love could be quite modern were it not for the over-heated  hyperbole.  Just as in his later Der Rose Pilgerfahrt, (much better known, with numerous recordings), what interests Schumann is the idea of heroes as outsiders rejected by society. Rather as he saw himself.

This is music to be listened to, “past” the text, so to speak, focussing instead of the overall musical effect and not worrying too much about literal meaning.  Basically, the plot as such is pretty thin.  What makes it interesting is the musical elaboration. Schumann’s phrasing actually gets around the clumsiness of the poetry, so lines like “Hoch klopt ihr Herz, “Meneid, erschlag’ner Gast, betrog’ne Braut, mit blut’ger Schrift”  actually sound melodic, even if they squirm horribly on the printed page.

Despite the cloying text, this is well-planned, well-constructed music.  The lighter, drier sounds of period instruments are critical to this piece, for they cut through the greasy text, bringing freshness and clarity.  Note how elegantly Schumann alternates disparate elements such as the SATB unit with the soloists and choir, and then with the orchestra. The voices are carefully paired, flowing back and forth.  Similarly,  the dynamic between different sections in the orchestra comes over like elaborate tracery. Arabesques here reflect the exotic theme, but, more importantly, create a sense of flow and movement. Bernarda Fink, singing the role of Angel (among other things) is surrounded by a halo of voices, both earthly and instrumental. She’s easily the best known of all the performers, good as they are, so the beauty and commitment of her singing stands out, even recessed in the SATB line. This alone is music “as” theatre : Fink doesn’t have to act, it’s in the score.  Good performances, too, from Matthews and Padmore.

The Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment uses period instruments for a very good reason, as this performance demonstrated.  Voices don’t really change with time, but instruments do.  There’s no reason why we shouldn’t hear music played on modern instruments, but it is 'enlightening' to hear music as a composer may have imagined it.  In this case, Rattle was able to use the finer, simpler textures to advantage.  This music needs a dry, clean touch, and Rattle was wise not to try and overwhelm it with too much lushness. His extensive experience with this orchestra shows in how sensitively he conducted, bringing out the fine details that enliven the music, like a short flourish on the flute which lasts but a few seconds but reinforces what’s being sung.  Even more fascinating was the use of natural horn.  By modern standards, its range is minimal - there aren’t any valves, and sound is adapted by changing the tubing so that more rests on playing technique than mechanics. Although Schumann’s audiences would have heard horns like this all the time, they would have connected the sound with primeval myth and legend, adding deeper resonance to the supernatural nature of the piece, which exists in a world “before” time.  Think  too, of the way Mendelssohn and Weber used hunting horns to evoke images of fairylands and dream states.  A modern horn would be totally out of place, musically as well as interpretatively, for all the balances are equally understated.

This performance won’t start a stampede of repeats and recordings, I suspect, because it is still too alien for modern taste. For the converted, however, it was wonderful.  Rattle intuits the inner world of this music just as Gardiner did, but with a little more vif, which I like.  Sinopoli’s recording may be easier on the ear but to me, it’s doesn’t have quite the fundamental innocence that so evokes the world in which it was written.  That purity alone makes Das Paradies und die Peri endearing.  Genoveva and Szenen aus Goethes Faust may be more ambitious, but  Das  Paradies and Der Rose Pilgerfahrt occupy a special place in music
history.

No credit is given to whoever wrote the programme notes, but they do rather look like they’re based on John Daverio’s extensive work on Schumann and his sources.  That’s fine, but most people need a more general introduction to this music and its context.  The South Bank put a lot of effort into supporting this concert with talks beforehand for those who wanted to find out more. Like many people I missed the first one and most of the second.  Perhaps these talks might have been the basis of useful programme notes for the vast majority of people who don’t need much specialist detail ? Das Paradies und die Peri, after all, is a lot of fun once you get in the mood.


Anne Ozorio