The first note played
by the clarinet in Der Hirt auf dem
Felsen (The Shepherd on the Rock)
is marked "long pause", but
I’ve never heard anything like this.
Dieter Klöcker enters so softly
he is barely perceptible, then little
by little he swells out to the maximum
a clarinet can achieve, which is quite
a lot when he is playing it. Then he
fades equally gradually, then starts
to swell again until finally he’s off
into the famous melody. Timed by the
clock, the performance lasted 13 seconds
but it seemed more. Clarinettists will
want to hear and admire such control.
On a second hearing, though, they may
join the rest of us in wishing he’d
just get on with it.
All through the long
introduction Klöcker is ready to
survey the scene with melancholy retrospection,
drawing to a near halt when anything
like a cadence or a change of key comes
up. It’s one way to play late Schubert.
Another way is Helen
Donath’s. Her bright, creamy tone suggests
a sort of girlish eagerness, though
her timbre is sufficiently sumptuous
to avoid any of the mawkishness this
might imply. In fact, she gives a very
lovely performance indeed, and her preference
is to keep things on the move. This
is, as I said, another way to perform
late Schubert. What is rather strange
is to find two such different ways in
the same performance.
In a certain sense,
I suppose it’s rather endearing to find
artists of this calibre busking it up,
I do this bit my way, now you do this
bit your way, without even trying to
work out a common interpretation. At
several points the clarinet echoes the
phrase the voice has just sung, but
it’s a lazy sort of echo which promptly
slows down. Better this than a chromium-plated
interpretation fresh from the committee
room and I’d as soon hear Helen Donath
sing this music as anyone. However,
I said "as soon", not "sooner",
and other famous sopranos have managed
to set down spontaneous interpretations
in which their clarinet partners collaborate
in the same direction. The names and
Dames of Felicity Lott and Margaret
Price come to mind because I happen
to have them, but there must be many
others, and don’t forget Edith Wiens
(CBC MVCD 1053 if available), a lovely
singer who doesn’t often get mentioned
because she recorded only rarely.
Most alternative performances
come with more Schubert, though, so
this is where the Arts Archives disc
begins to earn its place.
Der Hirt auf dem
Felsen is a late work, yet unlike
Die Winterreise or the last piano
sonatas it may be felt to sum up all
that is most delightful, rather than
all that is most deep, in Schubert.
It spawned a good many imitations. Sopranos
who have teamed up with a clarinettist
for the Schubert and wonder what else
they can do all together will probably
know the other pieces on this disc.
They are less demanding on the voice
than the Schubert but turn up in recitals
rather less often. Sopranos who use
the Schubert to parade the top B they
hope will be all right on the night
– no reference to Donath, obviously
– might be encouraged to prefer these
other pieces.
Lieder buffs will already
have spotted from the title of the first
Lachner that it sets the same Heine
poem as the opening song of Schumann’s
Frauenliebe und Leben, and the
second is of course that of Mendelssohn’s
"On wings of song". On its
own terms the music is conversational
and delightful, as is the Kalliwoda,
and Donath makes the most of any opportunities
for characterisation that come her way.
The formula is the same as the Schubert:
a long introduction for clarinet, occasional
duetting and some clarinet interludes
during which one fears – usually rightly
– for what Klöcker might have to
offer in the way of unscripted rallentandos.
I suppose Spohr must
have known the Schubert, but he was
enough of his own man to adopt a quite
different manner altogether. Voice and
clarinet mingle with a contrapuntal
ease that is so natural it never draws
attention to itself. The piano parts,
too, are somewhat more than merely chordal
and the songs are well contrasted. This
is not the sort of music where you can
run two different interpretations alongside
one another and the trio rise to a collaboration
of a quite different order. Donath shows
that she can be dramatic as well as
lyrical and Klöcker brings an unexpected
toughness where required. I don’t always
find Spohr particularly inspiring but
these songs are minor masterpieces.
As I listened to these I began to wonder
if this should be a Record of the Month.
I suppose not when they are reservations
about the rest, amiable as it is. But
lieder collectors who don’t know the
Spohr – which occupies almost half the
disc – have a treat in store.
The recording is absolutely
excellent and there are informative
notes by Klöcker. The English translation
has been carelessly proof-read, though.
We are not told the source of the recording
but a collaboration with RIAS Berlin
is mentioned so I suppose it was originally
made for broadcasting. Any more lieder
from Helen Donath in their archives?
Christopher Howell
for
details
Helen Donath (soprano), Dieter Klöcker
(clarinet), Klaus Donath (piano) 
