SEEN AND HEARD INTERNATIONAL

R Strauss and Mahler,  Lieder:  Anne Schwanewilms (soprano), Roger Vignoles (piano). Wigmore Hall, London. 5.12.2007 (ED)

A few audience members and critics were seen to discretely leave this recital at the interval. The reasons why they did so one might only guess at.

Anne Schwanewilms perhaps does not have to widest range of any soprano before the public, or employ a particularly expansive palette of tonal colours in her singing. Nor does she does not act like a diva from the moment she makes her entrance. It might even be claimed that she does not impose herself upon the music she sings very much in performance, leading to labelling her style as uninvolved at best or uncaring at worst. Some might suggest that her breathing and dynamic range is too consciously controlled or restrained; even that she is over-fussy with her diction, all of which can lead to some slight yet unusual emphases within the performance.

But if we think this, are we not missing the point? The attentive listener will know that lieder  singing is an art of patience. It does not reward, as opera can do, with immediacy using emotional arias supported by sumptuous orchestration to achieve its effect. Rather, it rewards in the intimate detail that unites singer with accompanist and text with melody. And detail can be scarcely less rewarding in its emotional impact, as the experience of any great lieder recital will demonstrate.

Schwanewilms is a great singer, and especially noteworthy when heard in recital, particularly when partnered by an artist of Roger Vignoles’ calibre. Not only do they both know her repertoire, it is palpable that they care deeply for it and respect its traditions of performance. Richard Strauss is a particular shared interest for both of them, and they have plenty to offer in performance: clarity of tone and projection, sound narrative judgement in employing the text, matched with  an unerring sense for the appropriate mood and tempo for individual items. For his part, Vignoles’ no less experienced accompaniments, expressively amplified the shifts of mood with unerring accuracy. That  individual songs stood with the others on the programme to create sequences of thought or narration around discrete themes,  offered a further mark of distinctiveness.

This, one might hope, could be achieved by any singer with any composer’s work, but Schwanewilms and Strauss unite to achieve noteworthy results by any standard. The three sequences of Strauss lieder conjured forth their own small worlds. First came night time to set the scene for thoughts of fervent love and the pain of parting (Traum durch die Dämmerung; Schlagende Herzen; Du mienes Herzens Krönelein; Ach Lieb, ich muß nun scheiden). Night once more prefaced tales of restraint and ethereal rapture (Die Nacht; Geduld; Allerseelen).  The final sequence found a trio of Dehmel settings (Leises Lied; Weigenliedchen; Waldseligkeit),  set against the Drei Lieder der Ophelia, to contrast the optimism of nature and love with the obsession of love and loss.  I have to mark out Geduld for the gradual building of the narrative and its dramatic presence, and the entirely appropriate rapture found in Waldseligkeit.

Two short sequences from Mahler’s Das Knaben Wunderhorn came after the first and second Strauss sets. Schwanewilms’ way with Mahler is distinctive for having much the same taste and knowledge of her own abilities and interpretive strengths that was heard in the Strauss. With due care for scale of interpretation and dynamic, finding the perfect vocal size to comfortably fill the hall, the songs were not over-burdened with unnecessary angst. Rather, where this was present in the text, it was subtly hinted at; so that it carried its intended meaning. Through light and shade of voice and piano,  much was achieved to dispel the impression of Mahler as a self-berating composer consumed by his emotional shortcomings. Wit and humour was had in plentiful amounts during Um schlimme Kinder artig zu machen. But Aus! Aus! had humour of a more surface variety, before an abject farewell was bid in Nicht wiedersehen!

Fortunately, Schwanewilms delighted in singing in “this special, hallowed hall” so much that she “had to sing” Strauss’ Wiegenlied as an encore. Schwanewilms and Vignoles did almost nothing with the music other than let it be, but in so doing they provided all that could ever be asked for.


Evan Dickerson