Wigmore Hall
Schubert – Greisengesang, D 778
Du
bist die Ruh, D 776
Lachen
und Weinen, D 777
Daß
sie hier gewesen, D 775
Sei
mir gegrüßt, D 741
Mahler – Rückert-Lieder
Schumann – Widmung, op.25 no.1
Der
Himmel hat eine Träne geweint,
op.37 no.1
Clara Schumann – Liebst du um Schönheit, op.12 no.1
Schumann – Mein schooner Stern! op.101 no.4
Clara Schumann – Warum willst du and’re fragen, op.12
no.3
Schumann – Aus den ‘Östlichen Rosen’, op.25 no.25
Zum
Schluß, op.25 no.26
Strauss – Vom künftigen Alter, op.87 no.1
Und
dann nicht mehr, op.87
no.3
Im
Sonnenschein, op.87 no.4
Michael Volle (baritone)
Helmut Deutsch (piano)
A wonderful recital
of songs to texts by Friedrich Rückert, a recital about which I find it
difficult to summon up the slightest reservation. (If I must, it would be the
songs of Clara Schumann: as well performed as everything else, but of
considerably lesser musical interest.) Michael Volle and Helmut Deutsch
imparted a due sense of occasion to everything they did; even their dressing in
evening tails, unusual for the Wigmore Hall, helped announce that this would be
no ordinary evening.
The opening Schubert group showed
no signs of limbering up, Volle’s voice and Deutsch’s fingers being perfectly
primed from the off. Though an ‘accompanist’, Deutsch certainly does not sound
like one; his part in the musical proceedings proving just as generative as
that of Volle. There was real pianistic muscle, but just as telling was the
voice-leading, not for its own sake (as one might sometimes experience with non-‘accompanist’
pianists), but as part of a collaborative response to text and music alike.
Volle’s diction was perfect throughout, but more important was the sense that
every word mattered; it was not merely pronounced, but felt and communicated.
And so, Schubert’s responses to Rückert could be experienced to a fullness we
almost have no right to expect. Greisengesang
chilled, Volle offering telling, unexaggerated rubato, at the end of a number
of the stanzas. ‘Doch warm ist mir’s geblieben/Im Wohngemach’: the warmth of
the parlour lingered ever so slightly in the mind – and in the bones. Rapture,
yet specific rather than generalised, characterised Du bist der Ruh, whilst the repetitions of ‘Sei mir gegrüßt! Sei
mir geküßt!’ in the final song of the group always brought something new, or at
least seemed to do so. The winning, utterly Schubertian lilt could not be
attributed to either Volle or Deutsch; this was a true partnership.
Mahler’s Rückert-Lieder followed. Deutsch’s account of the piano parts was
such as almost to have one forget how much one (should have) missed the
orchestra; it was only really in ‘Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen’ that I
felt the odd pang in that respect, and that was certainly not the pianist’s
doing. Again he showed equal command of both the alchemy of word and music, and
of the more ‘purely’ musical devices, the sense of motivic development being
especially strong. Not that there was any lack of atmosphere: the stillness – a
cliché, doubtless, but none the less true for that – of ‘Um Mitternacht’ an
equal tribute to the devotion of both artists. If there were odd occasions when
Volle’s intonation slipped, they counted for almost nothing. What did count was
the alliance of initial immediacy of expression and a mediated cultural hinterland;
though the voices are very different, I thought more than once of
Fischer-Dieskau at his best.
If Clara Schumann’s songs are
never likely to change anyone’s life, they are competently written and pleasant
enough. It is difficult to imagine them receiving stronger advocacy than here.
Robert’s songs, on the other hand, offered all the magic and depth of feeling
one could have hoped for. Cleverly selected and positioned, there was a true
sense of development from ‘Widmung’ to ‘Zum Schluß’, with the songs by Clara at
the very least reminding one of true object of Robert’s affections. A radiance
not unlike that earlier experienced in Du
bist die Ruh was, quite rightly, the concluding sentiment, leading ‘naturally’
– which, in reality, is to say with an excellent level of preparation and
performance – into the more operatic inspirations of Strauss. Volle drew upon
all the dramatic gifts at his disposal – and they are many – to produce with
Deutsch an almost scena-like
intensity in Vom künftigen Alter.
Simply managing to have one’s fingers navigate the notes is often no mean feat
in these songs, but Deutsch penetrated to the soul, technique liberating the
imagination. A typically equivocal sunshine – should it actually be sunset? –
crowned a distinguished recital indeed.
