Only as recently as April my colleague Tony Duggan 
                reviewed 
                the Audite release of Rafael Kubelik’s live performance of this 
                work. (Having bought the CD as a direct result of his recommendation 
                I can wholeheartedly endorse his great enthusiasm for this tremendous 
                performance.) I was delighted to see that among the alternatives 
                which he singled out for special praise were three versions which 
                I admire greatly. His shortlist included Bernard Haitink’s 1975 
                Philips reading, Jascha Horenstein’s 1972 traversal (BBC Legends) 
                and this present account under Otto Klemperer. 
              
 
              
This Klemperer recording, in its LP incarnation, 
                was the very first recording of Das Lied to find its way 
                into my collection and I have it still. Since I bought it some 
                thirty years ago or more, at least a dozen other versions have 
                joined it on my shelves but this reading has always seemed rather 
                special to me and I don’t think it’s simply because this was the 
                version through which I got to know the work well. Its latest 
                reissue by EMI is, therefore something that I welcome very much. 
              
 
              
You’ll notice that two orchestras are credited 
                and that the recording sessions were spaced over a period of some 
                2½ years. As Michael Kennedy points out in his excellent booklet 
                essay, the 1964 sessions involved the Philharmonia (indeed, the 
                November sessions were that orchestra’s last appearances in the 
                studios before Walter Legge disbanded them.) In their new identity 
                as the New Philharmonia they completed the assignment in 1966 
                but whether the travails of the orchestra were the only reason 
                for the delay in finishing the recording I do not know. No other 
                version in my collection was assembled over such a period of time 
                (and Kennedy confirms that the soloists were never together in 
                the same studio – probably that wasn’t necessary). However, listening 
                to the performance one would never be conscious of any sense of 
                artificiality. The work holds together with complete coherence 
                for which, of course, Klemperer must take the credit. 
              
 
              
Arguably, there is another sense in which this 
                recording may be thought by some to be a little "artificial." 
                Michael Kennedy quite fairly admits that what he calls Wunderlich’s 
                "heroic lyricism" in the first song was "aided 
                undoubtedly by the microphone." Wunderlich was a marvellous 
                lyric tenor, without a contemporary peer in Mozart or Schubert, 
                but it must be very doubtful if his voice could have carried over 
                Mahler’s orchestral scoring in concert conditions. His voice was 
                not anywhere near as big as, say, John Mitchinson’s (for Horenstein) 
                or Waldemar Kmentt’s (for Kubelik). However, I don’t think this 
                invalidates his performance in any way. I just rejoice to hear 
                the tenor songs done so sweetly and communicated so ardently and 
                so well. 
              
 
              
Thus, in ‘Das Trinklied von Jammer der Erde’ 
                (track 1) he consistently sings a lovely, musical line. His diction 
                is excellent and every note is hit securely in the middle, no 
                matter how high the tessitura. We hear a true lieder singer’s 
                art every time the phrase ‘Dunkel ist das Leben’ occurs (track 
                1, 1’36" et seq). Another highlight in the same, demanding 
                song is the episode at ‘Das firmament blaut ewig’ (5’13") 
                which is splendidly poised and then ardent. The dramatic highpoint 
                of the song, the terrifying vision of the ape (6’21") is 
                riveting and is crowned by an impassioned, ringing top B flat. 
              
 
              
On his final appearance in the work, ‘Der Trunkene 
                im Frühling’ (track 5) Wunderlich again treats us to heroic, 
                golden-toned singing. He demonstrates the lieder singer’s expressiveness 
                and really sings off the words. Furthermore he surmounts the difficulties 
                of Mahler’s taxing vocal line with ease. I’m slightly disappointed 
                by the second tenor song, ‘Von der Jungend’ (track 3) but this 
                is nothing to do with Wunderlich’s singing, which is fully up 
                to the standard he sets elsewhere. No, this is the one movement 
                where I’m uneasy with Klemperer’s approach. I feel that his basic 
                tempo is just a bit too steady for my taste. The music should 
                have a jaunty lilt and Klemperer doesn’t quite impart this. It’s 
                instructive to note that Klemperer takes 3’43" for this movement 
                (and Horenstein 3’55") but both Haitink and Kubelik take 
                3’09" and Bruno Walter despatches the movement in a mere 
                3’00" in his Decca studio recording with Julius Patzak. 
              
 
              
At no other point in the recording do I have 
                a serious reservation about tempo and certainly not in the three 
                contralto songs, all of which seem to me to be perfectly judged. 
                The distinction of Christa Ludwig’s contribution is presaged by 
                the way in which she sings her first few phrases. After a plangent, 
                troubled oboe solo has introduced ‘Der Einsame im Herbst’ (track 
                2) she floats the vocal line seamlessly, displaying splendidly 
                even production throughout the whole compass of her voice. Towards 
                the end of this song, at the words ‘Sonne der Liebe’ (8’07" 
                onwards) Mahler asks the singer to sing "Mit grossem Aufschwung" 
                (‘with great exaltation’) and that’s exactly what Ludwig delivers. 
                Yet within a mere nine bars she is required to fine her voice 
                right back to piano and she achieves this effortlessly 
                with exemplary control of her voice. 
              
 
              
Of course, any performance of Das Lied von 
                der Erde inevitably stands or falls by the account of ‘Der 
                Abschied.’ The opening doom-laden tolling of the harp presages 
                a great tragedy, certainly in Klemperer’s hands, and in this movement 
                the playing of the orchestra, superb throughout, reaches new heights. 
                The otherworldly flute solo, which accompanies Ludwig’s first 
                phrases, is magnificently articulated. Later on there are equally 
                telling contributions from the principal oboe and horn. 
              
 
              
The accompaniment supports a deeply eloquent 
                performance of this immense, wide-ranging song by Ludwig. Just 
                a few examples of her excellence will have to suffice (though 
                every phrase could be singled out for praise.) There is generous 
                phrasing at ‘O sieh! Wie eine Silberbarke schwebt’ (track 6, 3’04"). 
                Later on ‘Ich sehne mich, o Freund’ is invested with great longing 
                and rapture (12’16"). She builds the whole passage that follows 
                to an ecstatic peak before the long, dark orchestral interlude 
                from figure 36 (14’27"). That section is handled masterfully 
                by Klemperer, whose gaunt vision leads inexorably to a shattering 
                climax (19’46"). Finally, ‘Die liebe Erde allüberall’ 
                (26’40") tugs at the heartstrings exactly as it should. It 
                seems as if not only the whole song but also the entire work has 
                been leading up to this moment of ecstatic affirmation by Christa 
                Ludwig. Like Tony Duggan, my allegiance to Janet Baker in this 
                work is pretty unshakeable but I have to say that Christa Ludwig’s 
                is an extremely distinguished alternative. Hers is a reading 
                which anyone who cares about this masterpiece should hear. 
              
 
              
I’m conscious that I’ve said relatively little 
                about Klemperer. I feel that, with the one exception I’ve noted 
                above (a reservation which not everyone will share) his is a masterly 
                account of this work. He doesn’t encourage sheer beauty of playing 
                from the orchestra – that was never his way. What he does call 
                for, and get, is eloquent, deeply-felt playing (the woodwind solos 
                in particular are marvellous). Furthermore, at all times the listener 
                feels that the music is being guided by someone who is entirely 
                at one with the composer’s intentions. In short, it is a totally 
                idiomatic and authentic reading, somewhat severe, gaunt even, 
                and wholly uncompromising. Klemperer’s is not the only way with 
                this score. It is, however, an interpretation which is compelling 
                from first note to last and which I for one find totally convincing. 
              
 
              
The sound quality is excellent throughout and, 
                as I’ve said, Michael Kennedy’s notes are as fine and as authoritative 
                as one would expect from that source. The texts and the notes 
                are provided in English, German, French and Spanish. 
              
 
              
Some of the items chosen by EMI to appear under 
                the banner "Great Recordings of the Century" have raised 
                a few eyebrows. I would submit that the inclusion of this recording 
                in the series should not be controversial. It is, I believe, a 
                magnificent achievement. It is one of Klemperer’s finest recordings 
                and, quite simply, it is one of the finest accounts of Das 
                Lied von der Erde ever committed to disc. If you don’t already 
                have this version in your library you should acquire it without 
                delay. Even if you possess one of the other classic accounts that 
                I’ve already mentioned this one is wholly worthy to rank beside 
                any of them. 
              
John Quinn  
              
Great 
                Recordings of the Century