SEEN AND HEARD INTERNATIONAL

Schubert:  Dorothea Röschmann (soprano), Ian Bostridge (tenor), Thomas Quasthoff (baritone), Julius Drake (piano),  Barbican Hall, London, 14.1.2008 (AO)


The Barbican isn’t a place normally associated with the intimate art of Lieder, but this concert was unusual. It was a very well planned and erudite programme featuring Schubert’s songs in the context they were written rather than as individual stand-alones. Relatively little is known outside specialist circles about Singspiele and the tradition of songs placed in narrative groups but it was certainly prominent in the late 18^th and early 19^th centuries.  Schumann’s Der Rose Pilgerfahrt and Brahms' Die Schöne Magelöne are two well-known later examples.

Goethe did much to foster the genre, so it was appropriate that the programme started with settings of songs from Goethe’s epic Wilhelm Meisters Lehrjahre. Each of these songs is familiar.  Although they weren’t all written as a unit, placing them together highlights the connection to the novel.  Thus, Bostridge started with the songs of Wilhelm Meister  Der Harfner, the homeless harp player with a tragic, mysterious past.  That’s why these songs are desolate.  Wer nie sein Brot mit Tränen aß , “He who has never eaten his bread with tears” is never going to understand fate. Here, context mattered and Bostridge’s focus was on characterising the Harfner, in all his anguish.  This made the Mignon songs that followed seem all the more attractive, as they should, for Mignon is the angelic child who brings light to the Harfner’s painful existence.  Röschmann’s clear, high timbre is warmed by an earthy sensuality, which one might say isn’t echt-Mignon, but which adds to the charm.  Mignon is, after all, the Harfner’s daughter by his half-sister,  Sensuality lurks, hidden, but it’s the “cause” of the whole story.  It was also good to hear the D 478 songs together with the D877 songs because there are many musical and textual parallels betweeb them.   Despite her youth, Mignon is also haunted by gloom.  The set ends with the famous Kennst du as Land.  Although written before the Mignon songs, the song opens out the group, so to speak, drawing the narrative back to the beginning, to Italy, and to a happier time before the tragedy began.  This was a very literate choice of material indeed.

Quasthoff’s choice was more audience-friendly, particularly as it changed the mood of the Harfner/Mignon world.  Normans Gesang is red blooded Walter Scott, a jaunty ballad, and nothing, but nothing, can upstage Erlkönig.  Quasthoff’s voice is perhaps at its peak these days, for his always magisterial low register is particularly deep and rich. This was impressive indeed, particularly Grenzen der Menschheit, a Quasthoff staple, and for good reason.  I’ve heard him sing these songs with much greater character and intensity, but to do that on this occasion would have distorted the overall spirit of this programme, which sets songs in the context of ensemble. Although Quasthoff may love singing jazz, his is a voice meant for much more than Tony Bennett material.

Then the programme transported us back to the intimate  friendly world of the Schubertiades.  Schubert’s birthday ensemble for Michael Vogel isn’t “great art” by any means, but it it’s there to remind us of the context in which the composer wrote.  Schubert’s contemporaries knew their literature and enjoyed the songs in informal recital.  It was a bit disconcerting to me, at least, that Quasthoff berated the audience twice, in no uncertain terms, for coughing. It’s January, and it happens.  I really can’t imagine Schubert making such an issue.

Fortunately the mood lightened up after the interval.  First we had more songs, written separately, but performed together, this time from Goethe’s Faust.  Der König in Thule is so well known that it’s rarely heard in context.  Here we hear why Goethe has Gretchen sing the old ballad before she discovers she’s been betrayed by Faust : the king was faithful unto death, as Gretchen will be.  The relentless “spinning” in Gretchen am Spinnrade reflects her personality, as well as the movement of the spinning wheel. It’s an early song, written around the time Schubert wrote his Szene aus Faust. This was an occasion for Julius Drake to indulge in some highly coloured playing.  Again, this grouping was a joy, as hearing the individual songs in context enhanced the impact once more.

The programme returned  a second time to the world of the Schubertiades with Licht und Liebe, a delightful, effervescent bit of fluff, and the much loved Der Hochzeitsbraten, to a poem by Schubert’s roué friend Franz von Schober.  Therese and Theobald go poaching to get something for their wedding feast.  They aren’t very good at it and are caught, but the landowner lets them off with much goodwill.   It’s an excuse for plenty of good-humoured banter and funny noise effects, but there’s some neat ensemble writing, such as the variations on the words “Horch, Horch!” and “Ich will…ich muss”. It’s hilarious.  For a moment, we’re transported to the more innocent world of the early 19^th century with its cosy informality and sense of fun.

Later, the world of Singspiele found new life in the work of Kurt Weill and others. Sophie Daneman and Bostridge gave a separate late-night concert of works by Weill, Cole Porter and Noel Coward, showing how the idea of story-telling songs continued on into the 20^th century.


Anne Ozorio

 

Back to Top                                                    Cumulative Index Page