I haven’t really been
following this series, now nearing its
end, though I did review Volume 3, dedicated
to Die schöne Magelone.
I must say I have two objections regarding
matters of basic policy. The first is
that of transpositions.
In the case of a solo
recital of Lieder, mélodies
and the voice and piano repertoire in
general, it is only right and natural
that the singer should select the tonality
of each song most suited to his or her
voice; indeed, the accompanist should
be able and willing to offer a wider
range of keys than the two or three
published ones. But, as a pianist who
spends a certain amount of time doing
just that myself, I have to say that
I increasingly notice how the shift
of key changes the character of the
piano writing, and never more, I would
say, than in the case of Brahms whose
love of rich sonority often led him
to write as low down the keyboard as
could be done without actually lapsing
into grumpiness. With the result that
even a shift down of a mere semitone
risks grumpiness, while a rise, however
small, involves a loss of richness.
Listen to the first of the op. 105 songs,
sung in its original key by the baritone,
with its warm, echt-Brahmsian accompaniment,
and then immediately after no. 2, transposed
up a major third for the soprano; beautifully
sung as a matter of fact. We seem to
be listening to a different composer.
And this particular set of songs actually
specifies a low voice in the title.
Now, heaven forbid
that I should wish to deprive sopranos
of this particular song, in a solo
recital, but surely the point of
doing a complete edition with more than
one singer is that you can then do all
the original keys, choosing the singer
for the song rather than the song for
the singer. By which I suppose I mean
that two singers were not enough for
the job.
My other objection
concerns the sharing between the two
singers. The criterion seems to have
been a democratic one – each must have
a part of each song-set; not all that
many call, by their words, specifically
for a man or a woman. However, while
these sets are in no way cycles
or intended to build up a narration,
they do, as the booklet-note writer
points out, each have a particular character
of their own. They also tend to stick
to a similar vocal range within each
set. In other words, Brahms may have
composed the songs independently over
a certain period, but when he gathered
them up into opus numbers he grouped
them according to a certain logic. Once
again, a complete edition – a composer-oriented
rather than performer- oriented
enterprise – should surely seek out
the unity of each set rather than destroy
it by mixing voice types. What is
the point of suddenly having a soprano
to sing op.96/2 (again, very beautifully)
when the rest of the set is sung by
the baritone (nothing in the words calls
for a female singer)? Or of suddenly
inserting a tiny song for baritone in
op.95, otherwise all sung by the soprano
– no.3, Beim Abschied, which
at 0:58 is so brief that, by the time
one has adjusted to the change of singer,
it is over? And again, there is nothing
in the words to demand a male singer.
Having got that out
of the way, what about the performances?
Her contributions to
op. 95, all rather dramatic songs, find
Juliane Banse somewhat over-parted,
squally rather than full-voiced in climaxes.
In no.5, Vorschneller Schwur,
an unhappy progression can be heard
from the exquisitely gentle opening
stanza to the powerful second one which
simply calls for a singer with greater
reserves. Later on there are several
songs, such as Wir wandelten op.
96/2 which call for gentle soft singing
throughout, and these are most beautifully
managed. Once again, it’s looking as
if two singers were not enough.
Andreas Schmidt, as
we know, has ample reserves and he is
splendid in the more dramatic pieces.
In his soft singing he has a way of
starting the note "off the voice",
an almost crooned sliver of vibrato-less
sound. The trouble is that his intonation
in these moments does not blend with
that of the piano, leaving me with an
uneasy proto-Schoenbergian impression.
Then when he opens up the sound and
allows it to begin vibrating the intonation
comes right (and, closely analyzed it
may be that his intonation is actually
"pure" compared with the piano’s
compromising equal temperament, but
since he is working with a piano and
not a string quartet, surely he should
attempt to blend with it?). As an example,
take the phrase in Nachtigall
op.97/1, beginning from Das ist von
andern, himmelschönen; each
of the notes at the beginning of the
phrase begins very marginally off the
note, then harmonizes with the piano
as the voice swells and the vibrato
begins.
For some reason none
of these vocal strictures apply to op.105
in which both artists give of their
best; if the record had all been on
this level it would have been a very
fine disc indeed (Deutsch’s contribution
has all the sensitivity, expertise and
stylistic awareness we would expect
of him). As it is, it is a serviceable
offering for Brahmsian completists who
are collecting the series (but these
particular songs are worth anybody’s
attention and show a much greater range
than Brahms is sometimes given credit
for); if all the discs have such short
timings, though, I fear those buying
the whole cycle are being made to fork
out for more CDs than were strictly
necessary. Most of the previous volumes
have been reviewed on this site and
reveal average timings around 55 minutes.
The recordings are good, the booklet
notes detailed if somewhat dryly musicological.
Texts and English translations are included.
Christopher Howell
Juliane Banse (soprano, op.95/1,2,4,5,6; op.96/2;
op.97/4,5,6, op.105/2,3), Andreas Schmidt (baritone,
op.95/3,7; op.96/1,2,4; op.97/1,2,3; op.105/1,4,5),
Helmut Deutsch (piano) 
