In
his liner-notes to this issue Gerhard Dietel writes: ‘If
it were not for the current ambiguity of the term, the
songs [on this disc] could be succinctly referred to as
women’s songs’. The ambiguity lies in the fact that today’s
feminist movement means that such songs should be ‘written
by women tackling traditional stereotyped roles with the
feisty tone of the women’s liberation movement’. These
songs – or rather poems – are not.
The
cycle
Frauenliebe und –leben was written by the
male poet Adalbert von Chamisso. He certainly puts the
words of the poems in a woman’s mouth but the attitude
is the traditional 19
th century male perspective
with a submissive woman. Schumann set eight poems but Chamisso’s
cycle had a ninth poem, depicting the woman in old age,
reminiscing about her youth when she sees her granddaughter
having fallen in love. This poem manifests the female treadmill
but Schumann expresses the same situation by composing
a long piano postlude to the cycle where he refers to the
opening song.
For
some reason the cycle has been thought of as mezzo-soprano
territory – at least in my world. The darker timbre of
a lower voice naturally hints at an older woman remembering.
At least some of the most penetrating recordings of the
cycle have been made by mezzos. I have reviewed during
the last few years superb interpretations by Christa Ludwig,
Janet Baker and Brigitte Fassbaender, the latter being
possibly the most profound of all. This is not to say that
a soprano can’t be just as successful; my first recording
of
Frauenliebe und –leben back in the early 1960s
was with Irmgard Seefried, by then admittedly not a particularly
high soprano any longer. I also have several other sopranos
in these songs and the music is so lovely that the vocal
pitch is of secondary importance.
Sibylla
Rubens has during the last few years risen to the elite
of interpreters of German Lieder. A few months ago I praised
a disc by her in the Naxos Schubert Edition (see
review)
and about a year and a half ago I also heard her on an
earlier issue in this unrolling Schumann Edition (Volume
3 - see
review).
Her light soprano is as far removed from the dark mezzo
tones of the ladies mentioned above as can possibly be
imagined. The effect is of a young woman in the midst of
a love affair – we are in a way peeping over her shoulder
while she confides her innermost thoughts and feelings
to her diary. And it is a youthful reading to match the
voice: rather simple and straightforward, which is not
to say that it lacks nuance and feeling for the text. She
also chooses rather quick tempos; compared to the three
mezzos she is in practically every song somewhat faster,
in some songs considerably so. But it is not a superficial
reading, it is rather a more youthful one, full of the
insight one has after the first flaring of love.
Süsser
Freund, du blickest mich verwundert an is as inward
as any other reading I have heard and when adversity strikes
she darkens the voice effectively.
Frauenliebe belongs to great song year 1840. The remaining songs on this not
too well-filled disc are from the period after Schumann’s
move to Düsseldorf in 1850. They have never been particularly
highly regarded and they lack to a large extent the overwhelming
inspiration of the earlier songs. But, like everything
else in Schumann’s oeuvre they are not without interest.
Here we also encounter true women’s songs, insofar as the
7
Lieder and the
Maria Stuart songs are settings
of female poets. Elisabeth Kulmann - I have also seen the
spelling ‘Kuhlmann’ - was a poetess of German-Russian extraction.
She was highly regarded in her time, encouraged by Goethe
as well as Jean Paul. She was a child prodigy ‘who understood
eleven languages, spoke eight …’ and wrote excellent poetry.
This was published by her language teacher after her death
at the age of only seventeen in 1825. Whether he edited
the originals seems to be uncertain. Schumann admired her,
as poet and as person, and had her portrait in his study.
Obviously she was very mature considering her age and there
is nothing childish about her poems. Schumann’s settings
are stormy and melancholy by turns and only
Der Zeisig (The
Siskin) is cheerful. They are well sung but the songs in
themselves are not very memorable.
The
authenticity of the Maria Stuart poems is contested but
they are still deeply touching. Composed in 1852 the songs
are no less memorable melodically than the Kulmann songs
but they are still inspired in a kind of
parlando writing.
They are, as Gerhard Dietel writes, prosaic and the piano
part is almost ascetic.
Abschied von der Welt is
a song that grows with every hearing. Sibylla Rubens sings
it with bleakly drained tone and at the same time intensely.
Gebet is
also heartrending in its total despair but still with faith
in God and Jesus. These two songs are, in several respects,
the highlights of the disc.
The
last group of songs (Op. 107) to poems by sundry writers
are also declamatory but with a much more active piano
part. In
Die Spinnerin one can hear the spinning
wheel in the vein of Schubert’s
Gretchen am Spinnrade.
In
Im Wald one hears the poet wandering through
the wood. The concluding
Abendlied is a serene meditation
but the piano part tells us that we shouldn’t be too sure …
Apart
from
Frauenliebe und –leben this is not Schumann
at his best but the songs are worth hearing for the more
complete picture they give of his oeuvre. Sibylla Rubens
is as always a pleasure to listen to. Even though she may
not scale the heights – or maybe depths – of
Frauenliebe the
way Fassbaender and her mezzo colleagues do, hers is a
valid youthful reading of the cycle. Uta Hielscher, who
is the pianist on all the issues in this series, plays
with customary expression and intelligence.
Göran
Forsling
Reviews of earlier releases in the Schumann lieder series
Volume 1: 8.557075 -
review
Volume 2: 8.557074 -
review
Volume 3: 8.557076 -
review
Volume 4: 8.557077 -
review 
Sibylla
Rubens (soprano), Uta Hielscher (piano) 
