Fantasy Botany - The Anguished Lotus Bloom

Die Lotosblume ängstigt 

Sich vor der Sonne Pracht

Und mit gesenktem Haupte 

Erwartet sie träumend die Nacht. 

Der Mond, ist ihr Buhle 

Er weckt sie mit seinem Licht,

Und ihm entschleiert sie freundlich

Ihr frommes Blumengesicht, 

Sie blüht und glüht und leuchtet 

Und starret stumm in die Höh'; 

Sie duftet und weinet und zittert

Vor Liebe und Liebesweh. 

(The lotus bloom is stressed under the glare of the sun, and bends her head to await and dream of the night.  The moon, her secret lover, awakens her with its light, and for him, she she reveals her purity. She blooms, and gleams and shines and gazes towards the heavens. She releases her fragrance to the air and weeps and trembles with love and the pain of love.) 

The poem, by Heinrich Heine, is deceptively subtle.  The setting, by Robert Schumann is discreet, but notice the throbbing piano accompaniment, suggesting the palpitations of an anxious lover's heart.  Neither Heine nor Schumann probably saw lotuses growing in their natural habitat, where they grow en masse in ponds and lakes, reaching upwards toward the sun.  It's hot in the tropics, though the water keeps them cool.  The petals look fragile, though they're strong, like the stems and roots. Perhaps Heine and Schumann and their audiences identified the lotus with the moon, stillness, and secrecy, as Goethe did when he wrote of feelings inspired by the untouchable Charlotte von Stein.  In the last  line, passion breaks through,the voice part fills out "for love, and the pain of love"

Sunshine, mists and magic : Mein Wagen rollet langsam

From Heinrich Heine Buch der Lieder 1827, this lovely song by Robert Schumann Mein Wagen rollet Langsam op142/4 (1840) from Vier Gesänge .

Mein Wagen rollet langsam 

Durch lustiges Waldesgrün, 

Durch blumige Taler, die zaubrisch 

Im Sonnenglanze blühn.
 

(My carriage rolls along slowly through the glorious green of the woods,through flower-stren valleys that bloom, like magic in the sunshine)
The poet's sitting in a horsedrawn carriage, not a horsecart, he's not a farmer. So he can daydream and nod off.  The piano sparkles, as if enchanted by the "magic" in the sunny haze. Suddenly, the pace changes. It becomes hesistant, as if the horses are plodding, maybe up a steep slope.

Ich sitze und sinne und träume, 

Und denk' an die Liebste mein; 

(I sit, and ponder and dream and think of my beloved) . 

Da grüßen drei Schattengestalten 

Kopfnickend zum Wagen herein. 

(Outside the windows, three shadowy spirits rise up to greet me, shaking their heads.

Sie hüpfen und schneiden Gesichter, 

So spöttisch und doch so scheu, 

Und quirlen wie Nebel zusammen,

Und kichern und huschen vorbei. 

(They hop, and pull faces, at once mocking yet elusive, and twist themselves (quirlen) so they disappear into the mists (which have suddenly materialized) and cackle and slip away. The lines seem so smooth and lyrical that the vision passes almost unoticed. In the long postlude the piano sparkles again, as if the interruption were just a dream. Or not - maybe the poet's been spirited away, too. Below,  the wonderful André Schuen with Daniel Heide.

An alternative Im Wunderschönen Monat Mai

Everyone knows Schumann's ImWunderschönen Mai from Dichterliebe but what about Franz Lachner's setting of Heine's poem ? Lachner's setting pre-dates Schumann's and is a masterpiece in its own right.  Lachner (1803-1890) gets short shrift because he wasn't Schubert or Schumann, but why should he have to be ?  As Peter Schreier said: “You appreciate the peaks when you know the landscape". He wasn't an imitator, and their "influence" as such was generic rather than direct, though he knew both Schubert and Schumann personally.  Setting the same poems means not a thing ! Heine's so interesting that composers are still setting him today.  Lachner was part of the Schubertiade circle, though he was very young - six years younger than Schubert yet still significant enough to be depicted in the 1826 drawing by Moritz von Schwind, which shows Schubert at the piano with Josef von Spaun to Schubert's right and Johann Michael Vogl to Schubert's left. Lachner is the figure with his head bent, behind von Spaun. Lachner is also seen with Schubert in von Schwind's pen drawings in the vineyards at Grinzing.
Lachner's Im Mai comes from his best known song cycle Sängerfahrt op 33 (1831-2) and is an early setting of Heine's Lyrisches Intermezzo.  Lachner, who was still living in Vienna, wrote the cycle as gift to his fiancée Julia Royko. Sängerfahrt (Singer's journey) and Dichterliebe (Poet's love) ! Ten years later Schumann would write Dichterliebe as a wedding gift for Clara Wieck.  The choice of  Heine is interesting, too, since the poems are too ironic to be romantic. Unless your loved one gets wooed on tales of loss and tragedy.   In Lachner's Im Mai, rippling triplets in the piano part suggest  gentle movement - perhaps warm breezes ? The vocal line rises, as the sap does in Spring. "Da ist in meinem Herzen, Die Liebe aufgegangen".  The  sprouting buds and branches of blossom in the text awaken in Lachner a wonderful circular melody in the piano part. It is so beautiful - reminiscent of the melodies Beethoven and Mendelssohn used in order to evoke the countryside The piano seems transformed, as if it were an ancient folk instrument. There's nothing quite like this in the genre, not even the faint echo of hurdy-gurdy in Der Leiermann (though there's no connection between the songs or cycles). Or perhaps it suggests the lyre of some antique shepherd in an Arcadian landscape.  For Lachner and his contemporaries this would have evoked the image of Orpheus, this time successfully leading his bride back into Spring and life. The circular figures may also suggest the rhythm of Nature, and changing of seasons.  Lachner respects the simplicity of Heine's poem, with its understated strophic verses : too much artifice would spoil the purity.  After the second verse the piano part returns, drifting off gently, into silence.

In 1836, Lachner (a Prussian), landed a powerful job as conductor of the Hofoper in Munich. He had direct access to the King, and influence on everything musical in Bavaria. Lachner was to Munich what Mendelssohn was to Leipzig and Berlin. Nonetheless, today Lachner's relatively unknown, primarily because he wasn't Richard Wagner.When Wagner came on the scene, Lachner was pointedly retired. Nonetheless, he's fascinating as a kind of missing link, between the very early Lieder of Beethoven  and the songs of Brahms. His chamber music is fairly well known,  and there's now more interest in his songs. There are several recordings of Lachner songs, mainly from Sängerfahrt op 33 but many others await discovery. Christoph Prégardien and Andreas Staier pioneered Lachner in a 1998 recording, presenting Lachner with Beethoven's An die ferne Geliebte and the songs of Nikolaus von Krufft (which I love) . The use of fortepiano is perfect, adding a period refinemt to songs that do need elegance and a light touch.  There is only one full recording of Sängerfahrt op 33 by Rufus Miller, which was a courageous thing to do at the time, but unfortunately the performance isn't very good. Prégardien has contuinued to sing Lachner over the years, often different songs , and  Mark Padmore's recorded a few for Hyperion.  Angelika Kirchschlager also has them in her repertoire and has done them at the Wigmore Hall. 

Morgen kommt der Aschermittwoch

Ernst Hanfstängl (1840 Dresden 1897 Capri) Aschermittwoch aus unserer Rubrik

Am Aschermittwoch ist alles vorbei, die Schwüre von Treue sie brechen entzwei Von all deinen Küssen darf ich nichts mehr wissen Wie schön es auch sei dann ist alles vorbei Trink auf die Freude, denn heut ist heut das was erfreut, hat noch nie gereut fülle mit Leichtsinn dir den Pokal  Karneval, Karneval - Jupp Schmitz, popular song from the 50's.

Ash Wednesday is an important day in the liturgical calender.  Palm cRosses which marked the previous Holy Week are burned, preparing the way for the next, but the symbolism goes deeper.  "Dust to dust, ashes to ashes". So much for the vanities of this material world . We're all going to end up in smoke. Which is why Easter matters: it offers hope and some form of meaning.  In medieval  tradition, fasts were broken by feasting, drinking and excess. "Eat, drink and be merry while you can"  Because good times may not come again.  So excess and wild abadon are haunted. When you wake with a hangover, you know about Hell.  Perfect material for Heinrich Heine.

Dieser Liebe toller Fasching, Dieser Taumel unsrer Herzen,

 Geht zu Ende, und ernüchtert Gähnen wir einander an! 

 Ausgetrunken ist der Kelch, Der mit Sinnenrausch gefüllt war, 

Schäumend, lodernd, bis am Rande; Ausgetrunken ist der Kelch. 

Es verstummen auch die Geigen, Die zum Tanze mächtig spielten, 

 Zu dem Tanz der Leidenschaft; Auch die Geigen, sie verstummen. 

 Es erlöschen auch die Lampen, Die das wilde Licht ergossen 

 Auf den bunten Mummenschanz; Auch die Lampen, sie erlöschen.

 Morgen kommt der Aschermittwoch, Und ich zeichne deine Stirne 

Mit dem Aschenkreuz und spreche: Weib bedenke, daß du Staub bist.

(This lovely Fasching, this wild frenzy of our hearts. It's ending. Sobering up, we yawn at one another.  The cup's drained empty, which once intoxicated - foaming, flaming, overflowing the brim.  The violins are silent that once led the merry dance. (reference to the Devil)  The lamps are out, too, which gave light in the darkness for merry Mummenshanz (masked and costumed clown figures) .  Tomorrow it is Ash Wednesday and I'll mark your forehead with a cross of ash.  And whisper : Woman, think on it : You, too, are dust)

As far as I know this poem has only ever been set as a song once, by Wilhelm Killmayer, mentor of Wolfgang Rihm, part of Killmayer's eclectic and highly original traverse through Heine.  The piano introduction pounds, throbbing like a violent headache.  The vocal lines rise and break off suddenly into silence. The piano comments only in brief staccato flashes. A passage suggests a violin, playing in memory., and the vocal line is circular, like in a dance  The pace slows down, as f unwinding voice and piano alternating. The last strophe is striking. Like liturgical chant, it's dignified but plaintive, like an echo from the medieval past.  Killmayer substitutes the word "Menschen" for "Weibe". The last line is chant. Two phrases:  : "Mensch' bedenke"....."dass du Staub bist!"  Then the piano tolls single chords, like a funeral bell.  Get the CD here (Prégardien, Mauser)  and the score from Schott.

Brahms exults ! Vier ernste Gesänge Goerne Eschenbach

Matthias Goerne and Christoph Eschenbach , Brahms Vier ernste Gesänge and other Lieder, from Harmonia Mundi, is an extremely welcome release, since Goerne has.been singing these songs in recital for 20 years, so distinctively that they have become his emblem, so to speak.  Now, at last a performance has been preserved for posterity.

"Brahms free of the thick veneer of varnish", I wrote about Goerne's first Vier ernste Gesänge at the Wigmore Hall. When he wrote these last songs, Brahms was facing death but  looking back on the North German tradition that he had left behind decades before, but also by extension to the defiant spirit of the Reformation. Like Ein deutsches Requiem, that in itself, in pious, obedient Catholic Austria, suggests rugged independence of spirit.  There is no heavenly afterlife in Vier ernste Gesänge.  These aren't last songs, either, but specifically "serious".  Thus the significance of the piano part in Vier ernste Gesänge :  two performers alone against the world.  Brahms and Clara Schumann, perhaps, both pianists looking back and fearlessly ahead.  Christoph Eschenbach and Goerne are an ideal partnership. They've worked together for years and both approach the work with uncompromising emotional directness.

Eschenbach's introduction is firm, and resolute. "Den es gehet dem Menschen wie dem Vieh, wie dies stirbt, so stirbt er auch". Eschenbach shapes the lines around "Es fährt alles am einen Ort", so they fly turbulently upwards, as if propelled by wind: for we are dust, returning to dust.  No Biedermeier sentimentality, but quiet dignity.  A strident chord cuts the song off abruptly. You don't mess with Death.  Then a softer, more reflective mood. "Ich wandte mich und sah an alle", reflecting on suffering  and the bitterness of life.  Goerne sings with such compassion that his voice conveys both sympathy and protest. For what is the human condition if the dead are better off than those yet to experience the evils of the world?  "O Tod, o Tod, wie bitter bitter, wie bitter bist du" sings Goerne, as if he were addressing Death man to man, each "wie bitter" beautiful shaped, like a genuine, personal rebuke.  Eschenbach plays the transition firmly, but sensitively, emphasizing the growing resolve in Goerne';s voice. This is a transit.  "O Tod, o Tod " sings Goerne, breathing warmth into the "wie wohl" which follows. "Wie wohl tust du".

Thus the affirmative resolution of the last song and its vigorous mood. The gifts of many tongues, of prophecy and even of faith, are nothing without love.  Then the glorious line "Wir sehen jetzt durch einen Speigel", when Goerne's voice rises, extraordinarily clearly and bright for a baritone happiest in the lower range, as if lit from within with inner strength.  Eschenbach's piano sings along.  "Nun aber bleibet Glaube, Hoffnung, Liebe, diese drei: aber ist die Liebe ist die größte unter ihnen"  Not the glories of the world, nor status, but love, to which all can aspire.  Goerne's non-strident, purposeful  expressiveness is, like love, both simple and extremely perceptive. Hugo Wolf, who eked a subsistence from music journalism, detested Brahms. "The true test of a composer", he wrote, "is this : Can he exult? Wagner can exult, Brahms cannot". What a pity Wolf hadn't heard Goerne and Eschenbach, who demonstrate that pietist purity is a form of exultation, and that Brahms can exult very well, without shouting.

These Vier ernste Gesänge will make this recording a must, but so too will the superb performances of Brahms' nine Lieder und Gesänge op 32 (1864) to texts by Karl August Graf von Platen and Georg Freidrich Daumer, poets with whom Brahms had great affinity, Excellent booklet notes, by Roman Hinke, which explain how the Platen and Daumer songs "mark nothing less than the entry into a new, surprisingly cryptic and conflict-ridden world ....what might have led Brahms to turn to Platen's poetic existentialism, to take his dark fantasies of the other side as the starting point of a disturbing sequence of songs".  In  "Wie rafft' ich mich auf", the poet leaps up in the middle of the night, wandering through the silent city. The lines "in die Nacht" repeat, obsessively, The stars look down, accusingly : "how have you spent your life?" they seem to ask.  The following six songs reiterate this question.  Brahms chose his texts well and his settings give further coherence to the set.  A river flows past, swiftly, love ends.  From  trauma to tenderness: the three Daumer songs are gentler, closer to cosy, popular misconceptions of Brahms. Lovely piano melodies, but the last song Wie bist du, meine Königen" reaches an altogether more refined level of sophistication. Goerne sings the refrain "Wonnevoll, wonnervoll" (blissful, blissful) with such grace that it feels like a moment of rapture, pulling the whole group of songs together as an integrated cycle. Again, Goerne and Eschenbach prove that Brahms exults!

Heinrich Heine, with his acidic irony, might not seem natural Brahms territory, but the Lieder nach Gedicten von Heinrich Heine op 85 (1878) are lovely.  Sommerabend and Mondenschein make an exquisite pair.  Not many concert pianists (or conductors) have the ability to accompany song with the sensitive support a singer needs. With Eschenbach, the goal is music, not showmanship, art, not ego.  Goerne can therefore sing with pointed understatement, knowing that he and Eschenbach are on the same page, literally.  The Heine set ends with Meerfahrt,  in which the lovers drift in a little boat, past a ghostly island, from which sweet music resounds. They float past "Trostlos auf weitem Meer". Are they lost, or have they escaped what might be hidden in the mists?  Brahms isn't letting on, but we don't mind as we drift on, to the sound of oars and waves. 

Lieder as Social Comment? Boesch Wigmore Hall

Wigmore Hall Monday Afternoon  recitals differ from evening concerts because they're shorter and more relaxed. Florian Boesch and Malcolm Martineau proved that "relaxed" does not in any way mean lowering of standards.  They presented a strong programme of Schumann and Wolf with refreshing panache.  ,For example, Die beiden Grenadiere, Op.49 No.1 where they seemed to create the physical presence of two tough soldiers, still marching defiantly in defeat.  One man thinks of home, but the other is still truculent, the strains of the Marseillaise ringing in his ears.   More Heine, with  Abends am Strand, Op.45 No.3  Another pair watch a fishing boat, and chat about  distant lands "und von den seltsamen Menschen". They don't like dirty foreigners (literally) !  "In Lappland sind schmutzige Leute,Plattköpfig, breitmäulig, klein; Sie kauern ums Feuer und backen Sich Fische, und quäken und schrein.seltsammen Sitten  dort". So they sit, unmoved, on the beach, on the fringes of life,  as darkness envelops them, in every sense.

Die feindlichen Brüder, Op.49  yet another pair of men fight a battle so cataclysmic that they and their castle are destroyed, and their ghosts continue to struggle, for centuries  after. Boesch and Martineau would have compiled this programme ages ago, but Heine feels remarkably prescient in the light of recent events.  

For a breather, Boesch and Martineau then switched to Schumann's settings of Chamisso, Op 40, where they did all four songs in the set to telling effect. The first two songs, Märzvielchen Op 40/1 and Muttertraum Op 40/2, are relatively gentle but Der Soldat  Op40//3 ends in sheer horror.  A man loves another more dearly than anyone else in the world, But what's happening ? His pal is being executed. And by whom, and in what circumstances ? The psychological levels are complex. This is an extremely disturbing song, despite the steady march pace.   In comparison even Der Spielmann Op 40/4  might seem conventional.  since it connects to ancient traditions connecting fiddlers with death  In a macabre twist, Schumann set this poem about a cursed  wedding on the eve of his marriage to Clara.  

Eight songs by Hugo Wolf, including the less ubiquitous Wolf settings of Goethe's Harfenspeiler songs, then back to Schumann and Heine for Belsatzar op 54.  In the piano part, the music reels riotously, as if at a drunken orgy.  "Ich bin der Kõnig von Babylon!", sang Boesch, just slightly off kilter so you could imagine the King puffed up but wobbly. At his moment of triumph, the King is struck down  Heed the Writing on the Wall, puffed-up would-be leaders of men.

"The Twitter of the 19th century", announced Boesch before commencing  another Schumann setting of Chamisso,  Verratene Lieder . Two lovers kiss in secret but the stars pass it on, and soon everyone is in on the act.   Let no one think that Lieder is not cutting-edge social observation.  Listen again here on BBC Radio 3.

ich heiße Mohamet, ich bin aus Yemmen

Täglich ging die wunderschöne
Sultanstochter auf und nieder
Um die Abendzeit am Springbrunn,
Wo die weißen Wasser plätschern.

Täglich stand der junge Sklave
Um die Abendzeit am Springbrunn,
Wo die weißen Wasser plätschern;
Täglich ward er bleich und bleicher.

Eines Abends trat die Fürstin
Auf ihn zu mit raschen Worten:
Deinen Namen will ich wissen,
Deine Heimath, deine Sippschaft!

Und der Sklave sprach: ich heiße
Mohamet, ich bin aus Yemmen,
Und mein Stamm sind jene Asra,
Welche sterben wenn sie lieben.

Heinrich Heine

Benjamin Appl Heine Lieder : Stunden, Tage, Ewigkeiten

First solo recording from Benjamin Appl is now out. In fifty years of listening  to Lieder, I've  followed many singers right from the start of their careers, including Holzmair, Goerne, and Boesch. Talent doesn't always equate with fame, alas, but if Appl is lucky, he could be in that league.

"Stunden, Tage, Ewigkeiten sind es, die wie Schnecken gleiten ". The title  comes from Heinrich Heine,  Read the whole poem HERE for it encapsulates Heine and much of the Romantik spirit. This recording explores different settings of Heine, culminating in the immortal Schumann Dichterliebe Op 48. Everyone loves Dichterliebe, but even if you've heard 1000 Dichterliebes, this one is worth checking out.   Appl's voice is still very youthful, which in itself is refreshing,, imparting a vernal freshness which enhances the images of   Spring, flowers and abundant growth.  When inevitably, the images end in heartbreak, the pain feels palpable. A young man hasn't yet (and shouldn't) become inured to the cruelty of  the human condition  Heine is ironic, but irony is born from faith not cynicism.

The variety in the songs that make up this cycle also reveal a singer's versatility. Appl's voice has great range and flexibility. matched with purity of tone. He flies through the tongue-twisting Die Rose, die Lilie, die Taube, die Sonne, then breathes warmth into Wenn ich in deine \Augen seh.  In Ich grolle nicht, there are hints of how Appl's voice might develop with maturity:his Ich hab' in Traum geweinet.  suggested how his tone might mellow. There's a lot going for this voice, so I hope Appl will keep developing and not take the beauty of his timbre for granted.  That might mean taking risks, vocally and emotionally.  At his Wigmore Hall recital in January, I and some others felt he might be holding back, since anyone might feel in awe of a place so hallowed in Lieder tradition.  But I think Appl has what it takes. Hopefully, he's enough of an artist not to slip into a crowd-pleasing comfort zone.

Appl's choice of repertoire also suggests an independent mind with a feel for repertoire. Another singer I greatly admire said, "You need to know  background". It's not enough to just sing.   On this disc, he sings famous Schubert Heine settings like Der Atlas and Die Stadt, but also less well known  pieces like Anton Rubinstein's Sechs Lieder von Heine Op 32 (1907). Though fairly straightforward, these are charming. Der Asra  sets, one of Heine's many excursions into exotic alien  climes. A Sultan's daughter notices a slave by a fountain, who's wasting away. "Ich heiße Mahomet. Ich bin aus Yemen" His tribe are the Asra, who die when they love. Wilhelm Killmayer's setting of this poem emphasizes the anguish. Rubinstein decorates it with "Arabic" figures.  

Appl and pianist James Baillieu also include a set of Mendelssohn songs, which juxtapose Fanny's settings with Felix's. It would be hard to top Felix's Neue Liebe and Auf Flügeln des Gesanges  but Fanny's Schwandenlied and Warum sind denn die Rosen so blass are accomplished, reflecting her experience as a pianist. They're only Opus 1 because she didn't get published til near  the end of her life.  Special praise, too, for James Baillieu, one of the most interesting of the younger generation of accompanists.  Pianists are the unsung heroes of Lieder,  since they can make such a difference to a performance. Appl is a singer who doesn't need cossetting but benefits from being challenged by the  assertive, individualism of Baillieu's playing. This disc was recorded in July 2015 at Champs Hill. 

Robert le Diable - full download libretto

The Dancing Nuns scene from Meyerbeer's Robert le Diable starting Thursday at the Royal Opera House. Robert le Diable is taken to the haunted convent by Bertram who is the Devil and Robert's father, though Robert doresn't know it yet. Bertram is also Alice's father, but she and Isabella save Robert, and Bertram is despatched to hell. Audiences in the 19th century didn't have delusions that opera was "historic". They heard past the fake medievalism and enjoyed the drama for what it was. Indeed, Heinrich Heine wrote a poem about  the social context of Robert le Diable.

 "Es ist ein großes Zauberstück
Voll Teufelslust und Liebe;
Von Meyerbeer ist die Musik,
Der schlechte Text von Scribe."

Heine understood the social context of opera in his time and why audences enjoyed Robert le Diable despite the audacious plot.  Read what I wrote about Heine's Meyerbeer poem earlier this year. Since Heine doesn't actually mention the title of the opera, not many  people make the connection.  You saw it here first! But it's pretty obvious as it is ein großes Zauberstück, Voll Teufelslust und Liebe;

Trysts or not, we can at last enjoy Robert le Diable We can enjoy it too at the Royal Opera House, where the cast are experienced and the director knows the genre. Read my comments on the ROH cast here - they could be as good as we can get.

HERE is a link to a full download of Robert le Diable from Paris in 1985 with Alain Vanzo, Sam Ramey, June Anderson and Michele Lagrange.  Even then, they werer bedevilled by cast changes. Nothing new - these things happen. Vanzo is a much more idiomatic Robert than Rockwell Blake who took the part when they made the film of the same production.  Stick to the audio download above. It's lively and the audience keeps erupting with applause. Usually I can't stand applause because it breaks drama but in this case, it's part of the fun.  There's a link to the full libretto as well.

Tomoorow I'll write a survey of some recordings. Please read other pieces I['ve written about Meyerbeer by following the labels

Meyerbeer and Heinrich Heine

Is 19th century French opera having a renaissance? Certainly seems so with so many new performances of Berlioz, Massenet and others  We're now so used to heavier Italanate singing that maybe it's a good time to hear different kinds of voices and open out the repertoire. I've been listening to Giacomo Meyerbeer's Robert le Diable.(1831). Someone once told me it's a mad mix of Don Giovanni and Faust, but I'm not so sure.  It's pretty crazy and a great vehicle for singers - soprano, high lyric tenor and low baritone. Thus most people know the opera through star arias. But once Robert Le Diable was a wild sensation to which le tout Paris flocked. The picture shows a performance in Paris in 1850, by which time the opera was a well established favourite. Wagner saw it, and Heinrich Heine, who wrote this poem. It was set by Wilhelm Killmayer and has been recorded by Christoph Prégardien. The poet is a man about town, intent on seducing a racy lady. They have an assignation in a private dining room (the 19th century equivalent of love motels - think Der Rosenkavalier, where Octavian cons Baron Ochs)

Komm morgen zwischen zwei und drei,
Dann sollen neue Flammen
Bewähren meine Schwärmerei;
Wir essen nachher zusammen.

Wenn ich Billette bekommen kann,
Bin ich sogar kapabel,
Dich in die Oper zu führen alsdann:
Man gibt Robert-le-Diable.

Es ist ein großes Zauberstück
Voll Teufelslust und Liebe;
Von Meyerbeer ist die Musik,
Der schlechte Text von Scribe.

"Come tomorrow between 2 and 3. Then shall new flames prove my passion. We'll dine together afterwards. If I can get tickets (and I'm a crafty lad). I'll take you to the opera. They're doing Robert le Diable. It's a great bit of magic, full of devilry and love. From Meyerbeer the music. Crap text by Scribe"

And here is a taster ! More soon

Heinrich Heine's non-naive Nativity

Heinrich Heine isn't someone you'd normally associate with Nativity scenes. So pay attention when Heine does Christmas.

Wilhelm Killmayer (b 1927) set Heine's Die heiligen drei Könige as part of his Heine Lieder. Killmayer is extremely underrated, but worshiped by those who know his work, including Wolfgang Rihm, who calls him his master. Killmayer's music is whimsical and gentle, but packs a powerful emotional and mental punch.

Killmayer arranges 35 songs to Heine poems in four progressive themes. His choice is perceptive even if you think you know Heine by heart. The first section starts with the idea of dreams and aspirations. Ideas gradually build up towards a final section Die Macht des Gesanges, the power of song. Die heiligen drei Könige appears almost at the end of the fourth cycle, ie. near the goal. See why Killmayer is so sharp? The Three Kings have come from the East (das Morgenland) searching for something they know is essential even if they don't know what it is. The piano part is rhythmic yet sways  slightly of centre: camels, with long legs crossing a desert?

How do we get to Bethleham, they ask Ihr leiben Buben und Mädchen (You dear little bumpkins and lassies) Heine's humour - exotic Kings from afar chatting to yokellish (and very German) children. But of course no-one knows, so the Kings continue following the Star. Killmayer sets the Goldener Stern. so it shoots right above the stave, almost unattainable. (Killmayer is kind to the singer, as the build up is gradual).   But what a lovely glow on words like leuchtete lieblich und heiter. (shining sweetly and bright). Piano part sweet, good natured, confident that the star leads the right way..

Then the star stops over Joseph's house. Killmayer sets this totally matter of fact, like it's the most natural thing in the world for strange Kings to pop in on a peasant. No decoration, but typical Killmayer silence, single notes that make you listen. Decoration is reserved for the line Das sind sie hineingegangen, which Killmayer sets on a soaring arc. You're drawn into the little house, so to speak.

Inside the house, gorgeous tumult! Das Öchslein brüllte, das Kindlein schrie. The oxen moo and the Baby screams. It's more vivid auf Deutsch, but Killmayer wants to capture the sense of energy generated by different layers of sound. No plasterboard Nativity this, but full of life and action.

Then the glorious finale. The Kings burst into song. They've found their miracle. Killmayer sets the word "Sangen" in multiple patterns, so it feels ecstatic. One "sangen" draws the "a" out for at least 8 measures. Meanwhile, the pianist's left hand delineates a steady rhythm, the right embroidering a truly lyrical melody. The whole Killmayer cycle started on the theme of dreams and seeking knowledge. Now the resolution through The Power of Song. Yet it's a non-naive Nativity.

Neither Killmayer nor Heine do superficial. Killmayer ends his cycle on a completely different note. Children, Heine says, sing in the darkness so they won't be afraid. So the poet ein tolles Kind (a big Kid) sings in his all-too-dark life of strife. Here the translation of the last two lines (Susan Mary Praeder) is superb, capturing the fear but adding wry humour and irony. She  uses a rhyming couplet, very Germanic. "The song may not be so delightful, but it's freed me from all things frightful" So the culmination of this long cycle is astonishingly modern. We live in horrible times, but as long as we have the power of song, we have hope.

Killmayer's Heine-Lieder cycle is huge, so not many singers have the heft to carry it off, especially with its constant changes of mood. But it's  remarkably well thought through. Killmayer understands Heine well, and in the process creates anew the whole concept of Lieder cycle. Meaning is what Lieder is really about, not just surface beauty. Killmayer's trademark is a kind of observant silence and stillness, that draws the listener in.  Although the cycle as a whole is daunting to sing, there's no reason why the sections can't be performed on their own,  Die heiligen drei Könige is a small masterpiece on its own and really should be part of the repertoire. It's very deep, its meaning applies beyond just Christmas. When Pen Hadow (my kind of guy) walked to the North Pole (and got trapped) a few years ago, I played this song on continuous loop so much that I had to get an extra copy of the CD. Things weren't easy for me at the time, but the idea of Hadow trudging through the Arctic seemed totally in keeping with Heine's poem and Killmayer's setting.

Killmayer's Heine Lieder are difficult to sing yet easy to listen to. Killmayer is a warm, humorous and totally individual person who defies stereotype. Start with the Heine-Lieder and go onto the truly outstanding Hölderlin-Lieder which I think is one of the most significant works of the late 20th century. Grab the sole recording of Killmayer's Heine-Lieder if you get a chance. (Christoph Prégardien and Siegfried Mauser, CPO)  Or get the score bei Schott. The painting, oddly enough, is Hieronymus Bosch.

Laci Boldemann, von Otter, Swedish discoveries

This is the recording which features Laci Boldemann's 4 Epitaphs, which so stunned audiences at Anne Sofie von Otter's recital at the Wigmore Hall in 2003. The 4 Epitaphs are based on Edgar Lee Masters' Spoon River Anthology (1915). That too is a remarkable work. Masters writes fictional epitaphs, each of which tells the story of the person supposedly buried beneath. Ollie McGee denounces her abusive husband. "In death, I am avenged". Sarah Brown tells her lover to tell her husband "There is no marriage in Heaven. But there is love".

Each of these miniatures is so intense that the "personalities" come alive. Laci Boldemann's settings are similarly terse and direct. He gets straight to the point, expressing the "person" by inflections in phrasing and syntax, rather than through ornamentation. The songs feel like speech, just as you'd expect from gritty pioneer folk who don't mince words. The songs are scored for string orchestra, with textures clean and free, evoking wide open spaces perhaps, or the other plane that is death. Amazing songs! A pity we had to wait til 2009 for their release. Anne Sofie von Otter's delivery is perfectly judged, dignified and unsentimental.

A pity, too, that Boldemann set only four of Masters's 244 vignettes. But in a way that clarity illuminates them. Boldemann was an interesting man. His parents were relatives of Aino Sibelius, and they hung out in artistic and music circles in Finland, Germany and Sweden. Nonetheless, Boldemann (1921-69) was drafted into the German Army but luckily became a POW, and spent time in the US. One day perhaps we'll hear programmes with his chamber music and these wonderful songs. I've found THIS but no other details.

Another discovery on this CD ( from DG) is Hans Gefors (b 1952) Lydias sånger. (rev 2003) It's an ambitious cycle, giving von Otter no respite : she has to sing against the Gothenberg Symphony Orchestra for half and hour without a break. Fortunately Kent Nagano conducts with sparse elegance. This is a saga-like dramatic narrative, so the range is demanding, too. The piece is loosely based on Hjalmar Söderberg's novel A Serious Game recounting an affair between a married woman and a music critic, so references to music and literature abound. Texts include Heine, Michelangelo and Bizet's Carmen. Gefors's setting are free enough that his work doesn't feel like an adaptation, but rather a series of mood pieces that create an ambience that may reflect the feelings in the novel rather than literal events. Some gems here, like The Sphinx , an unusual Heine poem that's defied most composers. Gefors captures the enigma. O schöne Sphinx! O löse mir Das Rätsel, das wunderbare!

Another world premiere starts the CD : Anders Hillborg, .....lontana in sonno....(2003) It's atmospheric, and von Otter sings the discursive phrases with sensitivity, matched by Nagano's restraint.

The Gefors and Hillborg pieces were commissioned for Anne Sofie von Otter. She's a wonderful singer, but eventually all singers retire. Hopefully, she'll be with us a long, long time. But she has done so much for unusual and new repertoire, and for Scandinavian music in particular, that her legacy will be greater and more lasting even than her singing. Twenty years ago, there were people who didn't know the songs of Grieg or Sibelius, far less Petersen-Berger or Stenhammer or Boldemann, and big names like Fischer-Dieskau didn't sing them. (Schwarzkopf did, and loved Luonnotar) Partly this is because an inordinate number of these songs are written for female voice - I don't know why. But von Otter has brought them out into the mainstream, where they belong, alongside the great German and French classics.

Goethe's birth house child as father of the man

Als ich noch ein Knabe war,
Sperrte man mich ein;
Und so saß ich manches Jahr
Über mir allein,
Wie im Mutterleib.
Doch du warst mein Zeitvertreib,
Goldne Phantasie,
Und ich war ein warmer Held,
Wie der Prinz Pipi,
Und durchzog die Welt.

"When I was a lad, I used to get locked up. I was alone, as in the womb, but to pass time, I had golden fantasies that I could be a hero like Prince Pipi and go throughout the world."

Goethe's father believed children should not be shielded from fear. Young Goethe and his sister were frightened by the gloomy corners of the dark old house he grew up in and and used to sneak off to sleep with the maids. The father, disguised by his dressing gown worn inside out, hid in the corners to scare them off back to their own beds. Later, Goethe wrote, "How can anyone faced with such terrors be freed from fear?" Fortunately, Goethe was securely loved. Imagination goes both ways. As he says in his poem, in dreams anyone can become a prince.

Did Erlkönig germinate on the house in the Grosser Hirschgaben, so sunny and cheerful by day ?

Mein Vater, mein Vater, und hörest du nicht,
Was Erlenkönig mir liese verspricht?
Ruhig, bleibe ruhig, mein Kind:
In dürren Blättern säuselt der Wind.

Stand on the vast staircase in Goethe's birthplace and imagine it's the 1750's and you're less than a metre tall. The stairs on the ground floor are wide, and ornately decorated, but past the upper floors, they narrow and twist. The maids are right at the top, past crooked gables. The only light, if you're lucky, is the moon.

The original house was destroyed in 1945, when most of old Frankfurt was carpet bombed and thousands died. It was one of the first places to be rebuilt, for Goethe represents so much that is good and noble. The basic proportions of the main building show how very different the home was from palaces and churches. The family lived in close proximity with their servants. There must have been so much activity, keeping that busy household going. While young Goethe played toy theatre with grandma, his parents were making music in the next room, the cook and maids in the kitchen, the ostlers tending horses in the yard. Romanticism isn't remote or aristocratic, but human scale.

For all his fantasies about ancient Greece, Goethe knew very well what made people tick. In one of the studies, he wrote The Sorrows of Young Werther, an expression of what we'd now call teenage angst.

That's why he is such a monumental figure. He straddles the classical and the Romantic, the 18th and 19th centuries, the old order and the new, the aristocracy and the peasants. He's an experimental thinker, interested in many different arts and sciences. He combines high flown philosophy with practical government. He adored young Mendelssohn, though probably didn't even see (or understand) the scores Schubert sent him. Goethe is a Renaissance man, who helped change the world.

So a visit to his birthplace is rewarding. Use your imagination, like he did. Wish away the tourists, and you're in the birthplace of the Romantic, cradled in ancient tradition. Even Goethe didn't know why the street was called Hirschgaben. Long before his time it was part of the medieval commonland, where stags were pastured, semi-domesticated, like Frankfurt itself, still rural despite being urban. Once, long ago, I drove a powerful car on the autobahn round the city, seeing the glass canyons of the banking district in the distance. Brave New Europe and the ideals it symbolizes. Goethe is as valid today as he ever was.

Auf Flügeln des Gesanges - alternative Lieder

“On Wings of Song” is one of the most famous songs of all time – so much for the notion that Mendelssohn was “eclipsed”. Yet it’s very different from the Lieder of Schubert, Schumann and Wolf. Romantic Lieder stresses the word painting, using music to extend text. This stems from the Romantic concept of the individual, where personal, subjective truths mattered. The Romantic Age didn’t use the terminology of modern psychology, but explored inner emotions and the unconscious. Mendelssohn’s songs aren’t “classical” or Mozartean” in any sense, but represent an alternative approach to art song.

First, here is the poem as Mendelssohn might have heard it in his mind. Heine is writing about lotus blooms and exotic settings, but he knows full well that his poems will be read by people who know nothing about fabled “Hindustan” (no way this is real India). It’s important to listen to the poem being read aloud, to appreciate the cadences and expressiveness that bring the words to life.

Auf Flügeln des Gesanges,
Herzliebchen, trag ich dich fort,
Fort nach den Fluren des Ganges,
Dort weiß ich den schönsten Ort;

Dort liegt ein rotblühender Garten
Im stillen Mondenschein,
Die Lotosblumen erwarten
Ihr trautes Schwesterlein.

Die Veilchen kichern und kosen,
Und schaun nach den Sternen empor,
Heimlich erzählen die Rosen
Sich duftende Märchen ins Ohr.

Es hüpfen herbei und lauschen
Die frommen, klugen Gazelln,
Und in der Ferne rauschen
Des heil’gen Stromes Well'n.

Dort wollen wir niedersinken
Unter dem Palmenbaum,
Und Liebe und Ruhe trinken,
Und träumen seligen Traum.

For a translation see Emily Erzust’s formidably useful site
http://www.recmusic.org/lieder listed on the right.
Improve your karma, contribute to good causes.

Next, the version for solo piano, played by Vladimir Horowitz no less. The video is by Spadecaller. Then close your eyes and absorb the music in the abstract. Listen to how Mendelssohn expresses the spirit of the poem without using any obvious images. No lotus blooms, no violets. This is perfume in music, abstract, but none the less potent for being elusive. For the poem is elusive, operating on an unspoken level “behind” the words.

Only now come to the piano/song version, and listen holding the memory of poem and piano transcription in mind. This is Lotte Lehmann singing for US radio in 1941. Hear how she puts feeling and emphasis into the words, expressing text and music seamlessly. Mendelssohn’s songs were written to be sung in salons, intimate settings. Perhaps the singer was wooing the pianist, or someone listening, silently, in the room. Intent is there, but veiled in secrecy. “On the wings of song”, sings the lover, “I’ll carry you away, where I know a beautiful place”. The banks of this Ganges exist only in dreams. Like Heine’s poem, Mendelssohn’s song operates on different levels.

Und's Wort hab' ich vergessen

Last night I had the strangest dream. I was in a concert hall, vaguely churchlike, listening to a fantastic new piece of music - poetry, song, dance combined. Such a beautiful experience I could swoon like the Pre-Raphaelite and her rose..... The remarkable thing was that every word of the poem was clear, and I marvelled at its wisdom. Such ethereal music. Next part of dream, I'm transported to an open air site vaguely like Oxford but clean and uncrowded. And there the performers were again. The main soprano, a redhead, five others behind her in greys, blues, greens. Again the words so powerful ! Then suddenly I woke
"Und's Wort hab' ich vergessen"
Not even a Strauss von Zypressen to show for it