This year we’ve seen 
                the release of two of the most innovative 
                performances of the two great Schubert 
                cycles: The Winterreise of Goerne 
                and Brendel and the Die Schöne 
                Müllerin of Bostridge and Uchida. 
                Both set benchmarks, for they are performances 
                of exceptional insight and understanding. 
                Just as Fischer-Dieskau and Hotter shaped 
                wonderful versions for their times, 
                Goerne and Bostridge show how meaningful 
                and relevant Schubert still is for our 
                times. Such is the living nature of 
                creative art. It is a great idea, then, 
                to reissue these performances by Gerhard 
                Hüsch, a master of his time. 
              
 
              
This is a new re-mastering 
                (2005) by Andrew Rose, for Pristine, 
                the re-mastering specialists. Hüsch 
                was the first to record these cycles. 
                Schubert wrote them both for tenor, 
                but they have been performed by many 
                voice types, even Lotte Lehmann and 
                Elena Gerhardt. Hüsch’s version 
                influenced the vogue for baritone performances, 
                reaching an apotheosis of sorts in Fischer-Dieskau. 
                Lieder has always been a specialist 
                niche, so performers then, even more 
                than now, worked primarily in opera. 
                Song was an aside, good for short term 
                performances, such as live radio broadcasts 
                or recital. Concert programmes tended 
                to mix a variety of material to showcase 
                the singer’s range. Penetrative insight 
                was a concept for the avant-garde, such 
                as Berg and Mahler. Emotion did matter, 
                but for general audiences, it wasn’t 
                the primary reason they listened. 
              
 
              
Appreciating Hüsch 
                means accepting him on his own terms. 
                His voice is gorgeously golden-toned, 
                his modulations precise. In Das Wandern, 
                he differentiates the repeated passages, 
                bringing out their innate musicality. 
                He can switch from a deep, Das Bächlein 
                to a light, quivering lieht sie 
                mich. He delights in the rollicking 
                rhythms of Mein! Yet it is not 
                a technically flawless performance. 
                He has real difficulty adapting to the 
                high timbres of Des Müllers 
                Blumen, for example, at one point 
                sounding quite shrill. Nonetheless, 
                it is a luxury performance,, one to 
                savour as a record of a voice in its 
                prime. The piano part is very recessed: 
                people were listening to the singer, 
                not the song. Hüsch certainly does 
                not eschew dramatics. Indeed, the whole 
                performance is informed by his intuitive 
                understanding of song works on stage. 
                Der Neugierige, for example, 
                is sung with great gravitas, with a 
                slowness that suggests that visual gestures 
                were very much part of his musical persona. 
                It is almost as if the singer is deliberating 
                so we can appreciate the noble moment. 
                Later, he sings, Mein Schatz hat’s 
                grün so gern with a calculated 
                mock woefulness that might have been 
                effective live, but comes across today 
                as rather quaint, and then takes the 
                final So! with extreme drama. 
                It’s certainly not an unadorned performance, 
                but one carefully managed by a very 
                experienced singer who understood the 
                values of his time. Still, the experience 
                can be exquisite. The last song, Des 
                Baches Weigenlied is sung with such 
                grace and warmth it could function as 
                a stand alone. The text and context 
                hardly matter, for Hüsch makes 
                it a beautiful lullaby. 
              
 
              
Winterreise suits 
                Hüsch’s vocal colour infinitely 
                .better. He sings even more beautifully. 
                It’s a pleasure to listen to in order 
                to luxuriate in the voice alone. Moreover, 
                it is a cycle about a man who has had 
                more life experience than the miller’s 
                lad, and one which Hüsch inhabits 
                more naturally. He’s far more convincing 
                in Winterreise, and far more 
                emotionally attuned. Again, it is by 
                no means a bland or straightforward 
                reading – Hüsch was far too intelligent 
                an artist to merely skim the surface. 
                Instead, his interpretation derives 
                from his background in theatre. This 
                is inherently dramatic music and he 
                knows exactly when and how to create 
                an effect. His Stürmische Morgen 
                really is stormy, and his Mut powerfully 
                defiant. Needless to say Der Lindenbaum 
                is lovingly shaped, for its beauty has 
                long made it a popular song on its own, 
                outside the cycle. It is hardly surprising 
                that Hüsch’s Winterreise was 
                to have such influence. Nonetheless, 
                it’s still a version seen from "outside" 
                the character, so to speak. It is very 
                much a narrative of a physical journey. 
                Schubert himself felt that people would 
                not understand the cycle, and his friends 
                were indeed quite shocked. Until quite 
                recently, it was common to perform only 
                the first twelve songs, avoiding the 
                darker complexities of the later ones 
                altogether. Hüsch’s sturdy performance 
                is thus very much of that tradition, 
                and of the times he lived in. As a man, 
                he didn’t question too deeply and took 
                things as they seemed. His friendships 
                with people in Nazi circles led to his 
                support of the Party. Of course, many 
                artists did question and suffered for 
                it, but Hüsch was hardly alone: 
                millions of others were swept up too. 
                The modern emphasis on exploring the 
                cycles from within may upset many. However, 
                these versions are based on careful 
                study of the music and its context. 
                Understanding Hüsch, and his style, 
                helps us appreciate what goes into the 
                creative process. 
              
Anne Ozorio