Elsewhere in these pages, I’ve already waxed
lyrical about Christian Gerhaher as a singer of both
lieder and
opera. Here isn’t the place to repeat myself:
suffice to say that I heard nothing on this disc to make me change my mind.
All of his greatest assets are on display here, and he remains a singer to
marvel at. First of all there is his infinitely responsive vocal tone, alive
to every nuance, and then his deeply felt sensitivity to the words and
meanings of the poets, as refracted through Schubert’s music.
It is typically ambitious to begin with
An den Mond in einer
Herbstnacht, a large-scale meditation on man's place in the
universe, which gives Gerhaher a chance to show off his unrivalled
technique, both in terms of his vocal painting and his use of the words to
inform his choice of colour. It's a remarkable achievement, nurtured
all the way through by the sensationally warm colour of his voice which, for
me, is pretty close to the ideal of Schubert singing.
That happens again and again, throughout the disc. Sometimes the keynote
is beauty, as in
Abschied which is full of the most delicately
expressed heartache, or
Lied eines Schiffers, which exudes quiet
confidence and glorious tonal colour. Sometimes there is peace and
positivity, as in
Nach einem Gewitter, which is utterly charming
and exemplifies all that is positive about Schubert. Similarly, the Wayfarer
of D.649 carries only a small portion of the sadness of Schubert's
wanderers: this one seems strangely unencumbered and content with his lot,
certainly when you compare him to the traveller of
Winterreise.
Likewise, the Wanderer of D.870 moves from sadness about the loss of his
homeland to envy of the moon who is at home wherever he goes, and reaches a
satisfyingly positive conclusion.
At other times, however, darkness and turbulence break through, but they
always do so with poetic sensitivity.
An die Nachtigall is a
classic song of love-sick longing while, in
Wehmut, the storm music
in the piano stands for the poet’s reaction to loss in the world. The lurid
piano and breathless excitement of the narrative lift
Der Zwerg
above the simple boundaries of Gothic horror. Even in the drama of
Herbst, there is not a hint of melodrama: instead it's as if
we're eavesdropping on a personal meditation or the most intimate
form of performance.
I could go through every song and pick out virtues, but it’s clear enough
that this is a disc to cherish. My only quibble is that the programming
seemed a little quixotic. There was little to suggest why the songs were
chosen, and there were some rather stark changes of mood between many of
them in a way that, unlike his earlier
Abendbilder, makes the disc seem a bit like a pot-pourri
rather than a curated exploration of an avenue of Schubert’s output.
This is a small thing in comparison with the many virtues, though. This is
another feather in Gerhaher’s cap, and Huber’s accompaniments are never
anything other than supportive and appropriate. The recorded sound is warmly
balanced and beautifully captured. The booklet notes — which include texts
and translations — are written in a style that is both scholarly and
accessible.
Simon Thompson
Previous review:
Michael Cookson
Track-listing
1. An den Mond in einer Herbstnacht, D614 (1818) [8:01]
2. Hoffnung, D295 (1816) [1:26]
3. Im Janner 1817 (Tiefes Leid), D876 (c. 1826) [2:41]
4. Abschied, D475 (1816) [5:09]
5. Herbst, D945 (1828) [3:34]
6. Uber Wildemann, D884 (1826) [2:21]
7. Der Wanderer, D649 (1819) [2:23]
8. Der Wanderer an den Mond, D870 (1826) [2:26]
9. Der Zwerg, D771 (c. 1822/23) [4:54]
10. Abendstern, D806 (1824) [2:08]
11. Im Walde, D843 (1825) [5:09]
12. Nach einem Gewitter, D561 (1817) [1:33]
13. Der Schiffer, D694 (1820) [3:11]
14. An die Nachtigall, D196 (1815) [1:55]
15. Totengräber-Weise, D869 (1826) [5:12]
16. Fruhlingsglaube, D686 (1820) [3:16]
17. Nachtviolen, D752 (1822) [2:35]
18. Abendlied für die Entfernte, D856 (1825) [5:14]
19. Wehmut, D772 (c. 1822/23) [2:24]
20. Der Strom, D565 (1817) [1:31]
21. Der Hirt, D490 (1816) [2:17]
22. Lied eines Schiffers an die Dioskuren, D360 (1822) [2:27]
23. Nachtgesang, D314 (1815) [1:40]
24. Der Sänger am Felsen, D482 (1816) [3:06]
