There remains no doubt,
surely, that Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau
at the height of his powers was one
of the greatest and most influential
of all twentieth-century Classical musicians.
At one point, critical reception in
some circles seemed such that he could
do no wrong. Yet time can put a different
slant to matters and so the reappearance
of some of the greatest of Schumann’s
Lieder in a recital that lasts
one hour twenty minutes (minus a second
or so) and dwells mostly on songs from
Schumann’s miraculous year of 1840 is
particularly welcome.
Gerald Moore’s accompanying
always inspires joy in its preternatural
sensitivity, not only to the singer’s
minuscule manipulations of accent, tempo,
etc, but in his grasp of what is required
to set up the atmosphere of any particular
Lied. So it is with the first of Schumann’s
Op. 39, ‘In der Frende’, Moore’s warm
sound setting up a bed of sound over
which Fischer-Dieskau spins his line.
Almost immediately Fischer-Dieskau’s
shading of text comes into play, at
the third line, ‘Aber Vater und Mutter
sind lange tot’.
Fischer-Dieskau’s legato
is one of his defining strengths and
it is even more in evidence in the second
Lied, ‘Intermezzo’, which emerges
like a musical held-breath. The voice
is softened here, not only in reflection
of this text, but also to contrast with
the stern hardening of tone for the
first stanza of the third Lied,
‘Waldgespräch’ (interestingly translated
as ‘Colloquy in the forest’), a lied
here almost promoted to the ranks of
vocal tone-poem. Fischer-Dieskau realises
the massive variety of mood in this
work, raising a smile at the words ‘’Ich
wünscht’, ich wär’ ein Vöglein’
and deploying one of his favourite effects,
that of floating the line, sparingly
and carefully. Singer and pianist make
No. 7, ‘Auf einer Burg’ sound well ahead
of its time in its still disquiet. In
stark contrast, the following ‘In der
Fremde’ is taken at a tempo that perfectly
evokes forest murmurs. Only in No. 10,
‘Zwielicht’ does melodrama encroach
(the stage whisper of ‘Was will dieses
Grau’n bedeuten?’).
Always Fischer-Dieskau’s
attention to diction is in evidence,
nowhere more so than in the lieder that
require somewhat rapid enunciation.
Olaf Bär at the Wigmore last
year brought a different slant –
there were moments when Bär’s enjoyment
of the pure sound of the words
was in evidence, whereas Fischer-Dieskau
seems ever preoccupied with meaning.
An interesting point of comparison.
It is a tribute to
the stature of this interpretation that
the final song emerges as the satisfying
climax that Schumann intended.
Schumann’s Op. 24 Liederkreis
is perhaps not as intense a work as
Op. 39. It breathes a serenity that
Fischer-Dieskau (accompanied here by
Hertha Klust) is anxious to project
throughout (excepting an almost violent,
certainly very dramatic ‘Warte, warte,
wilder Schiffmann’). Klust accompanies
well, if not with the authority of Moore.
The highlight is the Winterreiseisch
third Lied, ‘Ich wandelte unter den
Bäumen’. The next Lied, ‘Du bist
wie eine Blume’ from Myrthen,
acts as a beautiful ‘encore’.
Throughout Fischer-Dieskau
is unafraid of using whatever effects
he can for wrenching meaning from the
text. So, in the third stanza of ‘Der
Schatzgräber’, Op. 45 No. 1, he
veers dangerously close to Schoenbergian
Sprechgesang in his portrayal
of menace, all of which contrasts magnificently
with the folk-like ‘Frühlingsfahrt’
(Moore is always superb at these happy-go-lucky
folksy accompaniments). A pity Klust’s
ornaments are not perfectly clear at
the close of ‘Entflieh’ mit mir’ (from
Op. 64), but the successful projection
of bleak desolation of the ensuing ‘Es
fiel ein Reif’ goes a long way to making
up for it.
The Lieder from
Op. 53 flow together as a well-contrasted
group, the more advanced harmonic workings
of ‘Mein Wagen rollet langsam’ contrasting
well (here Fischer-Dieskau, the story-teller
is very much in evidence).
‘Die beiden Grenadiere’
is surely one of Schumann’s most famous
songs, and F-D relishes every note.
Moore is once more the pianist for this
and the partnership seems here at its
greatest. Everything seems right, far
more than in its companion piece, ‘Die
feindlichen Brüder’, where the
singer comes close to shouting.
The choice of Balsatzar
as the concluding lied is a strange
one. Klust’s pedal-free playing just
sounds arid and, despite beginning with
a liquid legato, Fischer-Dieskau goes
into his ‘heightened speech’ (and if
one listens to the recital straight
through, this effect is beginning to
lose its appeal by now). It is a strange,
inconclusive way to end a disc that
contains much to admire.
This GROC acts
as a timely reminder of Fischer-Dieskau’s
art, warts and all.
Colin Clarke
EMI
Great Recordings of the Century
Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau (baritone); abGerald
Moore, cHertha Klust (pianos). 