This is the fifth volume
in BIS’s project to record the complete
Grieg song repertoire, as they did with
Sibelius. It is a laudable series because
until the composer’s anniversary in
1993, quite a few of his songs remained
relatively unknown, despite the fervent
championship of Schwarzkopf and Flagstad.
Though primarily a pianist, Grieg was
surrounded by song, his wife Nina, and
several close friends being accomplished
singers. Song was an integral part of
Grieg’s creative imagination. Thanks
to BIS, we now have a comprehensive
survey of the songs and can appreciate
what makes them distinctive.
The Fire Romancer
op. 10 from 1864-6, show the imprint
of Grieg’s earliest models, Mendelssohn,
Gade and Schumann. Conventionally pretty
and lyrical they are a young man’s work.
Yet already, in Skovsang, the
second song in the group, we can hear
Grieg’s authentic voice that would culminate
in masterpieces like Haugtussa.
This song’s accompaniment springs from
folksong – the piano imitating the simple
notes of a rustic fiddler. It was around
the time these songs were written that
Grieg received his creative baptism,
listening to the great violinist Ole
Bull play traditional Norwegian melodies,
in the open air, not in a formal recital
room. For the time, this was quite revolutionary,
as talented young Scandinavians looked
towards Germany culturally, traditional
music being the staple of farmers and
fishermen.
Peer Gynt tells
the story of a young man who travels
far and wide, but whose roots are in
his homeland, where his loyal lover
waits. Ibsen’s words struck a deep chord
in Grieg, resulting in one of his best
known pieces. Here we are treated to
three songs, including the much loved
Solveig’s Song. Solveig’s faith
in her errant Peer operates on two levels:
one as a straightforward, dramatic lament
in the context of the theatre, and the
other as a much deeper expression of
the enduring soul of the culture to
which Peer belongs. The long vocalise
with which it ends might be pure 19th
century tour de force to display
a singer’s talents, but it can also
be a heartbreakingly moving expression
of deep feeling. Given that Groop is
so good, and has been so worthy throughout
the saga of BIS’s Grieg and Sibelius
collections, it might seem a little
ungrateful to say that she isn’t at
her best in this song, and would be
better in a different context than the
semi-production-line of a series. She
is more effective in the less demanding
Cradle Song, where Vignoles’
playing is gentler and more lyrical
than usual.
With the two Holger
Drachmann groups, op 44 and 49, Grieg
shows how he combined the German Romantic
tradition with a Scandinavian idiom.
The songs are rather uneven. The highlights,
though, are delightful. Johanne,
which tells of a single mother, is a
warm and sympathetic vignette, with
Grieg’s characteristic jerky tempi and
asides. Similarly, Ragnhild and
Ingebjørg, are portraits
of imagined "real" women.
Nina Grieg, who had an affinity for
the poet, was a singer fond of dramatising
her songs to bring out character: she
must have been striking indeed when
she sang these. In Saa du Knøsen,
som strøg forbi, Groop shows
how she too can dramatise and vary her
tone when she captures the spirit of
Gotfried Springforbi, who "hatless,
unshod" sings his cheeky tune.
Groop and Vignoles do justice to the
high spirited Vær hilset, I
Damer, where a sparkling cascade
of notes on the piano leads into a refrain
of refreshing vivacity. These may not
be the finest of Grieg’s many songs,
but this recording is a delightful experience.
Anne Ozorio
Monica Groop (mezzo); Roger Vignoles (piano)
