Schubertiade Hohenems/Wellington at St Andrew’s: piano and song

Schubert at St Andrew’s
(Wellington’s answer to the famous Austrian Schubertiade at Hohenems and Schwarzenberg)

Diedre Irons (piano), Richard Greager (tenor)

Piano Sonata in A minor, D 784; Moments musicaux, D 780
The Heine songs from Schwanengesang D 957

St Andrew’s on The Terrace

Saturday 4 June, 6:30 pm

The weather assorted poorly with Schubert’s anguished, obsessional Sonata in A minor. It had been sunny and calm, though cold; but the music was penetrated with sudden squally gales and dark clouds, broken by only brief shafts of light and fleeting moments of repose. Diedre Irons understood, as her programme note made clear, how the tragic illness revealed in 1823 must have affected his music. Though she responded to the relative peacefulness in much of the enigmatic Andante, she understood Schubert’s black mood and handled it powerfully in the first and last movements: the emphatic fortissimo chords, punctuated by short gentler phases. And she maintained the compulsive pulse throughout.

While the Andante’s tone is generally more calm, a fearfulness, even despair, remains near the surface, and the relentless wind howling through the streets seemed to dominate the atmosphere of this great work whose nearest models must be heard among Beethoven’s sonatas.

The Moments Musicaux (oddly, Schubert’s French appears not his strongest suit as he called them ‘Six Momens musicals’) were in sharp contrast to the sonata, though one of Irons’s gifts is to give expression to the unease and pain that can be heard at times, as in the Andantino or the fifth Moment, Allegro vivace.

The last of the pieces, Allegretto, seemed to illustrate the word Sehnsucht (longing) that, as a student, I came to feel represented the prevailing tone of German Romanticism. It seemed to be the most used word in the Sturm und Drang and Romantic poetry from Schiller, Goethe and Körner onwards.
However, it was a rare treat to have them played in sequence, just as it was the sequence of songs that Richard Greager sang next.

Schwanengesang – the last collection
It was an imaginative stroke to lift the Heine songs from Schwanengesang (Swan Song) and present them in the order in which they are found in one of Heine’s early collections of poetry, Die Heimkehr, which a year later was included in the big collection, Buch der Lieder, published in 1827. So it was published only a year before Schubert set these six poems, showing how immediately Heine’s verse took root. However, they are the only Heine poems that he used and there is some opinion that Schubert did not find his poetry congenial, one critic suggesting that Schubert “rejected Heine’s ironic nihilism and would not have set more had he lived longer”.

It is probably tempting to feel that these Heine songs evoked music of more interest and depth than his settings of more minor poets, but I don’t think today there is much support for that, considering that almost all the best known and most loved songs are not set to great poetry, apart from those by Goethe.

Though in his introductory remarks Richard Greager suggested that some linkage between the songs was to be better observed in the original order, I must confess that I couldn’t detect any hint of a narrative or a theme in common, other than the afore-mentioned ‘ironic nihilism’. That did however, give these songs a tone in common.

The first song, ‘Das Fischermädchen’, made quite an impact, not on account of any high drama, but through the vivid piano part and with the unusual intensity of Greager’s tenor voice which seemed straight away to capture the edginess of the song with Heine’s typical message that nothing is quite as innocent or as blissful as it might first appear.

The next two, ‘Am Meer’ (On the sea) and ‘Die Stadt’ (The town), were touched by mystery, death, water, and when the sun does shine, it is to reveal the place where his love drowned; trembling, poignant. One noticed how careful was his phrasing and the refinement of his breath control; with striking support from Irons’s rushing arpeggios in ‘Die Stadt’.

‘Doppelgänger’ and ‘Atlas’
Then came a song with an arresting title, which has been engraved on my mind perhaps more than the sound of the song itself: ‘Der Doppelgänger’ (The Double). I’ve been watching a rather engrossing BBC TV documentary on the age of the Gothic revival, not just in architecture, but also in writing, music and the visual arts that dealt with horror and depravity, the daemonic, the supernatural, the irreligious, and here was a song that represented the supernatural in German poetry. The chilling bass piano chords illuminated the poet’s enigmatic loss of his love (‘mein Schatz’) in the vision of a pale ghost, his ‘double’, through the words, the music, and Greager’s singing, and most impressively Diedre Irons’s piano.

‘Ihr Bild’ (Her picture) is an elegiac piece with the poet contemplating his lost love, a calm, unhistrionic song. ‘Der Atlas’, about the afflicted Greek proto-god, of the race of Titans who were defeated by Zeus and his race, and punished with the task of supporting the heavens and earth. It’s pithy, but I have always felt it as a rather inadequate account of the monstrous fate of a giant. Schubert invested it with considerable weight and mythic significance and so did Irons’s big piano presence alongside Greager.

Finally, the un-Heine-ish poem, ‘Die Taubenpost’ (Pigeon Post) by Johan Gabriel Seidl, which is not only reputedly Schubert’s last song, but also the last in ‘Schwanengesang’. After the dubiously metaphysical creations of Heine, this is a plain, old-fashioned lyric by an ordinary and unpretentious poet, and Greager and Irons succeeded in lightening the atmosphere in the church with optimism and a belief in human goodness, in the face of climate change and the economic and social catastrophes facing today’s world.

Regardless of this reviewer’s irrelevant political preoccupations, this was a lovely concert, balanced between powerful and lyrical piano music and beautifully performed songs from the last days of Schubert’s life.

 

Marvellous music at St Andrew’s Schubert festival: The Trout and Notturno in E flat

‘The Ripple Effect’

Schubert: Piano Trio ‘Notturno’, D.897                   `
Piano Quintet in A ‘The Trout’, D.667

Anna van der Zee (violin), Chris van der Zee (viola), Jane Young (cello), Richard Hardie (double bass), Rachel Thomson (piano)

St. Andrew’s on The Terrace

Saturday 4 June, 3pm

This was the second concert in the enterprising ‘Schubert at St. Andrew’s’ series over Queen’s Birthday weekend, organized by Marjan van Waardenberg and Richard Greager. Not as many people attended this concert as compared with the well-filled church on Friday evening, but it was still a respectably-sized audience.

The name ‘Ripple Effect’ was appropriate not only for the ‘Trout’ Quintet, but also for the ‘Notturno’ one-movement trio (violin, cello and piano), which opened with beautiful ripples on the piano. The plucking of the strings, too, has a watery feel, which made the work a good precursor to the famous quintet. The musicians played it with the utmost sensitivity to Schubert’s wonderful subtleties.

The dreamy opening of the ‘Trout’ features plucked notes on the double bass, providing a wonderful underpinning to the piano part in particular. Melody is tossed between the instruments in a most skillful but natural-sounding way. I sometimes found the highest notes on the violin rather metallic, at various points in the work. In Schubert’s day, all strings would have been made of gut, therefore the sound would have been less piercing.

The pianist has a very busy part. In fact, the work almost becomes a sextet, when the pianist’s two hands are taken into account.

In the first movement (allegro vivace), the piano often sets the theme, with the other instruments following. This movement ends triumphantly. The second movement (andante) opens with limpid beauty from the piano; again, this instrument leads the themes. Rachel Thomson performed her role superbly well, varying her tone and dynamics depending on whether she was leading or accompanying. The movement was full of rhythmic interest.

Outside, the sky was blue and the sunshine golden. The church interior is painted in these colours, and the music too was sunny, yet cool (in both senses of the word).   The movement ended calmly.

The scherzo third movement (presto – trio) was extremely lively, but its contrasting trio in the middle had poise and contemplation in its make-up, before the scherzo took over again, with vigour and élan.

Then we came to the movement (andantino) that gave the quintet its nickname, ‘Trout’. The theme was Schubert’s song of that name, upon which wondrous variations were based. The treatment of the theme is both delightful and innovative. One variation has the cello and double bass playing the theme while the piano ripples the water over their heads. Then an impassioned variation takes charge in a forte section. The cello’s solo variation is exceedingly beautiful, while the violin’s, in partnership with the viola, returns us to the original song, with piano accompaniment.

The fifth and final movement (allegro giusto) was indeed played with the required gusto, with great regard for the dynamics and with excellent cohesion. Various stormy winds blew in this movement, but the ensemble maintained itself. Throughout, the playing never lost its finesse, nor its onward drive.

The audience fully appreciated the marvellous music, and the musicality of those who performed it for us.