RECORDING OF THE MONTH
Come Away, Death
Erich Wolfgang KORNGOLD (1987-1957)
Come Away, Death - from Songs of the Clown, Op.29 (1937) [2:47]
Wolfgang PLAGGE (b.1960)
Södergran-sanger Op.146 [12:46]
Jean SIBELIUS (1865-1957)
Come Away, Death (Kom nu hit, död!) - from Two Songs From ‘Twelfth
Night’, Op.60 (1909) [2:26]
Maja Solveig Kjelstrup RATKJE (b.1973)
HVIL (2008) [20:18]
Gerald FINZI (1901-1956)
Come Away, Death - from Let Us Garlands Bring, Op.18 (1929-42) [3:38]
Modest MUSSORGSKY (1839-1881)
Songs and Dances of Death (1875-77) [21:28]
Marianne Beate Kielland (mezzo), Sergej Osadchuk (piano)
rec. Jan. 2009, Sofienberg Church. Hybrid SACD. MCH 5.1 DSD. Stereo DSD.
2L 2L064SACD [63:32]
Do not be repelled by the album’s title or by the morbid picture on
the front cover. This is not a gloomy collection of gruesome, death-obsessed
music. This beautiful and diverse vocal music is, in particular, unified by
reflections on death, the acknowledgement of its presence in - or after -
our life. Only in the last song, Mussorgsky’s Field-Marshal,
is Death openly terrifying.
The “golden thread” of this programme is Shakespeare’s poem
Come Away, Death from The Twelfth Night. Out of more than twenty
settings, three were chosen. All of them treat the text as a tragic renunciation
- despite it being originally placed in the context of a merry comedy. These
three short songs are like way-markers on the way through the album, separating
three longer works.
The setting by Korngold opens proceedings. It is lyrical and almost operatic,
with frequent switches between major and minor. The melody moves in slow,
steady waves. The mood is close to Purcell’s Dido’s Lament:
this is a calm acceptance of death, with bitter sorrow, but without protest.
The setting by Sibelius is, I guess, in Swedish. It is stern and bare - the
darkest of the three. The music conveys both dread and foreboding. Despite
being very sparse, it leaves a feeling of heaviness, of a hard and cold tombstone.
Finzi’s setting adopts the pace of a funeral cortege and the ceaseless
slow swaying of a tolling bell. The melody is poignant, with distressing accents:
here the hero is definitely not agreeing with his fate! This version is more
theatrical, less personal than the other two: the music ascends like a thorn
bird rising to the skies. It is also the most beautiful version, and the melody
is haunting. It stayed with me for at least a fortnight.
Wolfgang Plagge set four poems by Edith Södergran. There is no explicit
mention of death in the poems. However, they can be interpreted as pondering
the subject. The music is boldly dissonant and creates a feeling of fragility
and strength at the same time - as if depicting a strong yet emotional personality
in deep depression. The accompaniment is sparse and effective. These settings
succeed in their aim to “reproduce and reinforce both the ascetic and
the uninhibited aspects of Södergran’s incomparable language”,
as the composer strove to do. Although very modern, the music grips and enthralls
with its interplay of white light and delicate glass, of cold rain and warm
wind. The match with the words is tight and delicate. Kielland’s dark
velvety voice brings the songs to life - frightening, poignant, stirring.
This is a very memorable and beautiful work.
HVIL is described by its creators as “the Earth’s plea
to humankind”. There is no translation, and there probably cannot be
any, for the Earth is speaks an eerie language, whispering and shouting out
words in clusters. If you know Norwegian (and Latin) you’ll probably
be able to decipher those long long words; the rest of us will need a translation,
which is absent. I understand that a detailed explanation is not feasible
- still, I would have expected to receive a little more information. As it
is, I can only speak about the effect of the sounds, without really understanding
the meaning of the words. The effect is spectacular. The piano part lies in
the lowest and highest registers. In between, the voice cries out: a desperate
plea, dark and intense, and at the same time fragile. The voice jerks and
thrashes about as if in fever. The music descends to the lowest reachable
areas. Kielland is a marvel; her voice is powerful in all the registers, and
she shows great affinity with the work. This is the most persuasive advocacy
for the Earth’s plea: I don’t understand what the singer is saying,
but I feel that I totally agree with her. The music is atonal: the Earth does
not care about our ridiculous conventions.
The programme is closed by a strong, memorable performance of Mussorgsky’s
Songs and Dances of Death. Grammatically, in the Russian language,
Death is feminine. Thus a woman’s voice is more suitable here than the
customary bass or bass-baritone: we hear Death speaking, not someone retelling
her words. And among the female voices, the lower one surely has a better
claim to the work, due to its darker connotations. So, Kielland is already
in a good starting position - but a good start is not enough. What she does,
how she sings, what she makes out of these songs, is absolutely awesome. Lullaby,
this female counterpart to Erlkönig, is a gem of the musical theatre,
and Kielland sculpts each word as if she lives it, with absolute identification
in all roles. This is one of the cases where it is borne home to the listener
that music is not just about accurate note-rendering. If you have children,
by the end you’ll be half-dead yourself.
The text of the Serenade is rather verbose, without the dense action
that we encounter in other three songs. Kielland compensates by giving us
some magnificent opera singing. Her diction is very good, and the Russian
pronunciation is praiseworthy. She conveys the feeling of restrained power,
which finally uncovers itself in the explosion of the last notes. Trepak
has the grim dare-devilry, which we know from some pages of Boris Godunov
- especially the role of Varlaam and the Kromy scene. In the midst of the
winds and blizzards whipped up by Osadchuk, Kielland sings with raw abandon.
The ending is a soft consolation. The Field-Marshal puts a huge exclamation
mark at the end of the recital. The images of the battlefield are shocking,
and Death’s monologue is terrifying. Kielland’s voice is strong
and cuts deep like a blade through butter. The ending is devastating.
Throughout the disc, the contribution of the pianist Sergej Osadchuk is invaluable.
The power and expressiveness of his playing matches those of Marianne Beate
Kielland’s singing. He has to handle difficult scores, and he does it
boldly, yet his technique always serves dramatic purposes. In the liner-note,
Kielland recounts the conception of the album. The works are described - by
the creators where they are still living. We have bios of the performers,
all this in English and Norwegian. Complete texts with English and Norwegian
translations (where possible) are provided. As usual for this label, the recording
quality is exemplary. I listened on an ordinary CD player, but even so I was
amazed by the quality of the surround. If something can persuade me to buy
a SACD player at last, it is this disc. I just want to hear what the “real
thing” can be, if the plain-CD reduction has such a feeling of space
and presence. Kielland’s voice is captured most vividly and is presented
as if a shining gem on a velvet bed.
There are experiences in life that you remember, although they may not be
pleasant. Some of them are musical. They make you think, maybe even change.
They clean the pipes of your soul. This disc is one such experience: a work-out
for the psyche. Our souls need exercising not less than our bodies do - especially
in these times when we consume so much emotional junk food. And, just like
the effort and the tension of sport the process does not necessarily induce
an enjoyable feeling, but in the end you are glad you did it … and so
it is here. Unless even the mention of Death is taboo for you, consider hearing
this disc. There may be no joy in this enjoyment, but there is much
beauty, sincerity and high art. This disc gave me one of the strongest musical
experiences I have ever had.
Oleg Ledeniov
This disc gave me one of the strongest musical experiences I have ever had.