SEEN AND HEARD INTERNATIONAL

Wolf: Mojca Erdmann (soprano), Christian Gerhaher (baritone), Gerold Huber (piano), Wigmore Hall, London, 19.5.09 (GDn)

Wolf: Italienisches Liederbuch

Notices in the foyer of the Wigmore Hall on Tuesday night requested that patrons ignore the presence of a large television camera that was sitting in a corner monitoring their every move. Easier said than done. The team was from Channel  4. They were making a programme about classical music. Their footage of the Wigmore’s wealthy clientele is unlikely to dislodge any stereotypes of the fan-base, or indeed of the opulence of the venues in which classical music happens. The choice of programme also seemed calculated to conform to television audience expectations. Wolf’s Italienisches Liederbuch fits squarely into the image of chamber music as a slightly repressed outlet for the more repressed emotions of aristocratic audiences. And following the audience into the hall, the camera will have found ideal fare for their documentary interludes.

The songs are all short and characterful. They are often dramatic, and they were performed here by unfeasibly attractive and talented young singers. Television gold, no doubt, and I look forward to the results.

The texts for the cycle are a selection of anonymous Italian love poems rendered in highly emotive German translation. Wolf’s music expresses little interest in the provenance of the lyrics and studiously avoids Italian stylings. There are shades of early Mahler about much of this music. It is comfortable with its tonality but adventurous in its structure, even in the brief spans of each of its short movements. Wolf was apparently unhappy about the attention that these cycles drew in the last years of his life – or at least the last years of his sanity. He longed to be known as a symphonist and opera composer, and it pained him to be lauded as a master of miniature forms. But a master he certainly was, and the emotive power of each of these short songs draws on his ability instantly to draw the audience into a specific musical realm and then to explore a range of emotional ramifications.

The work’s structure as a cycle is the result of some afterthought on the part of the composer and not of the chronology of the songs’ composition. The distribution of the songs between the male and female voices is based on the genders of the poem’s subjects. Given the folksy origins of the texts there is little equality here: the baritone is given the substantial and weighty themes while the soprano’s contribution focuses on the lighter numbers. Not that the soprano’s songs are interludes. They are usually based on lighter musical textures and they are generally quieter than those of the baritone, but their musical interest is just as great, as are their demands on the singer.  Mojca Erdmann has a supple and versatile voice that suits the music well. It’s not particularly showy music, but Wolf often calls for quiet yet intense singing from the soprano over a wide tessitura. Erdmann sings these passages with an elegant and distinctive tone, and with apparent ease, even at the very top of the register. She also has an impressive ability, a boon on the recital stage, for communicating a specific personality through the music of each of the songs without recourse to acting out the part. This was particularly evident in the few soprano songs that diverged from the light-hearted persona the composer seems determined to impose on the singer. The song Wir habe beide lange Zeit geschwiegen, took her into more plaintive territory, while the last song Ich hab’ in Penna einen Liebsten wohnen amply demonstrated the operatic potential of her chest voice. More of the same would have been greatly appreciated.

The accompanist Gerold Huber is of a similar age to the singers and on the evidence of this performance has established an impressive musical rapport with both. His touch is generally a bouncy, yet precise legato, the cantabile of Wolf’s Italian sources balanced skilfully with the precise German reality of their realisation.  There were one or two splits here and there, and some of the codas were a little imprecise. One possible complaint about Wolf’s miniature form is his reliance on short, pithy concluding phrases, in which the accumulated momentum is brought to an abrupt conclusion. Huber always managed to find the necessary gravitas for these codas, but a slight lack of precision was the occasional consequence.

Talented as Erdmann and Huber undoubtedly are, the star of this show was Christian Gerhaher. He is a born lieder recitalist, with so many shades of colour in his voice that accompaniment often seemed unnecessary. The lower end of the baritone range suits him best, and in the louder passages in this register his voice has a magnificent rich, silky quality. At quieter dynamics his tone becomes discursive, by turns intimate and conspiratorial, but always clearly projected, even without recourse to pragmatic vibrato.  And the physical support he can muster for the voice allows immense flexibility in the phrasing. Singers, like pianists, can struggle with the end-loading of Wolf’s songs and with his habit of concluding long final phrases with bravado cadential flourishes. But Gerhaher has both the pacing and stamina to drive each of these long phrases to their conclusion. His physical appearance is ideal for the recital stage too. A shock of wavy hair pointing upwards from the back of his head recalls the maniacal Romantic heroes of the 19th century lieder repertoire. His figure is only slightly rotund, yet he dominates the stage, leaning lightly against the side of the piano with his right hand with an endearing air of casual confidence. He is currently being courted by the opera houses of the world (Wolfram in Tannhäuser his signature role), but it would be a great shame if they were to lure him from the recital stage, which is surely his natural home.

Gavin Dixon

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