Secret Love - Nikolai Medtner

Medtner (right) and Anna (Left) London 1948

Nikolai Medtner's works for piano are justly famous, his songs, less well known.  Medtner's work for piano is brilliant, his songs less so, but then I'm a voice person and a song sleuth.  So a little adventure into the secret world behind some of Medtner's songs.   Medtner's first group of Goethe songs, Nine Goethe Lieder, op 6 from 1904, were dedicated as a wedding gift for his older brother Emil who was marrying Anna Bratenskaya, a violinist whom Nikolai was in love with. Most of these songs are fairly straightforward settings of famous texts like Wanderers Nachtlied II, Elfenliedchen and Mailied with a particularly lovely interlude before the final, significant verse.  But consider that last line : "Sei ewig glücklich Wie du mich liebst!" The poem isn't nearly as innocent as it looks. Please read my analysis HERE.
Medtner takes texts from several different Goethe collections.  Was there a reason for his choices ? Who knows, but it's interesting to speculate. Two of the texts Medtner chose, Inneres Wühlen and Sieh mich, Heil'ger, come from Goethe's Schauspiel Erwin und Elmire, (1775) which tells the story of lovers who are kept apart by social convention.  The first song speaks of suppressed emotional turmoil, the second of Elmire's anguish at having rejected Erwin's youthful passion. These texts have rarely been set by anyone other than Medtner and the Duchess Anna Amalia, Goethe's patron and object of his veneration.  Until, of course, he went to Italy and discovered sex and sunshine. Anna Amalie, the chaste Moon, was not amused.

In 1907-8, Medtner wrote his Twelve Goethe Songs op 15. An atmosphere of feverish intrigue haunts this collection. In Selbstbetrug, a curtain twitches. Is someone watching something they shouldn't witness ?  Yet another text from Erwin und Elmira, Sie liebt mich. which rises quickly to emphatic crescendo, repeated over and over, in delighted disbelief.  So tanzet und springst comes from Goethe's Lila, a play about a married woman who goes insane when her husband's away. And most scandalous of all, Vor Gericht, where a woman is pregnant but will not denounce the father, whom she loves. Pastor and magistrate, be damned ! "Es ist mein Kind, es bleibt mein Kind,Ihr gebt mir ja nichts dazu !"  Yet again, Medtner is the only male composer to dare set this defiant text.   Do these songs form a cryptic cycle, from the night-time hush of  Wandrers Nachtlied II and Meerestille to the last two songs, Der untreue Knabe and Geistergruss?  The last two songs form a matched pair, just like the first two, but now the mood is triumphant.  In  Der untreue Knabe the errant lover is reunited with the girl he dumped when they're dead, and in Geistergruss the Knight's ghost sings, like the King of Thule, pledging eternal love, despite separation . "Mein halbes Leben türmt' ich fort,Verdehnt' die Hälft' in Ruh,Und du, du Menschen-Schifflein dort,Fahr' immer, immer zu!".
Is this  cycle wish fulfilment or secret code ?  there's a touch of wry humour in op 15 which there isn't in op 6, so beware of too-literal interpretation.  Whatever may be behind the songs, we will never know and probably don't need to know, but if we did we might better appreciate Medtner as a man.  What we do know is that, in 1918, Medtner and Anna were married, Emil having agreed to a divorce.  They stayed together through over 30 years of exile, ending up in Barnet, North London.  
In 1922, Medtner dedicated his Sonata-Vocalize op 41 1 and 2 to Anna. This is fairly innovative music, closer to Scriabin, than, say, 19th century models. There is no text, but the inspiration was Goethe’s Geweihter Platz. A poet spies on the secret rites of Nymphs silently dancing in the moonlight and all the glories of Heaven and Earth are revealed to him.  "Alles erzählt er den Musen und daß die Götter nicht zürnen,lehren die Musen ihn gleich bescheiden Geheimnisse sprechen" .   This is the Medtner who can now express his love openly, without the guise of text. In the first part, the piano sings, alone. In the second, he's joined by his muse, singing exotic vocalize.  The voice stretches round the piano part, like partners in embrace.  Chamber music, intimate and personal. 

Subsequent to writing the above, thanks to a friend, please read more here   I intuited right - the real story is infinitely more convoluted than I guessed.   Some Medtner fans might be coy about the nazism, the unusual sexual dynamic (plus pregnancies) etc etc but I do not believe we can or should judge people in the past. by the standrds of the present. In any case, Nikolai was talented and hurt no-one, and Emil died before the war

How to kill Robert Schumann

Robert Schumann Szenen aus Goethes Faust  conducted by Daniel Barenboim,  marking the re-opening of theStaatsoper Berlin on the Unter den Linden, Berlin, after years of  renovation. Last time I was there, Hans Werner Henze was in the audience - how time flies ! This time, though, the performance was livestreamed on the Staatsoper Berlin website.   (Please see here about the Open air Beethoven 9 concert)  Schumann's Szenen aus Goethes Faust isn't an opera in the conventional sense, so choosing it to start an opera season was a brave choice indeed. Would the Staatsoper Berlin pull it off ?

Schumann';s works for music theatre don't get the respect they deserve because Schumann died young, eclipsed by Wagner and Verdi and by French Grand Opéra.   But if we approach Schumann on his own terms, and from the perspective of Mendelssohn, Weber and the Singspiele tradition, his work for the stage comes into its own.  What a great opportunity this would have been to present Schumann as man of the theatre in a distinctively German tradition.   Musically this was good - Barenboim, René Pape and Roman Trekel all in good form, with good support. But the production was a joke, and not a funny one. A Cataclysm of Corny Clichés !

Schuman pointedly made it clear that he was setting scenes from Goethe's Faust as opposed to writing a piece which unfolds as dramatic narrative.  The son of a Leipzig bookseller assumed quite rightly that his audiences knew the story, just as Mendelssohn's audiences knew the Bible.  So  Schumann's Faust isn't like Boito's Mefistofeles or Gounod's Faust but a strange hybrid that owes much to oratorio.  Even Berlioz The Damnation of Faust holds together better as semi-opera.    Jürgen Flimm's production with designs by Markus Lüpertz is overkill.  It will appeal to those who think that opera exists to be looked at, without musical and emotional connection.  The Frock Coat and Crinoline crowd !  Barrie Kosky fans who are fooled by superficial appearances, and don't think beyond.

The stage is dominated by two tall figurs whose purpose is to add verticals to the generally flat horizontals.  Perhaps the figures represent Faust and Mephistofeles, or Good and Evil, but they don't contribute much.  At times, a hollow box appears on stage. These stage within a stage boxes are a good idea, which is why they pop up so often in the theatre. They focus attention on what's important, distancing the action from what is happening elsewhere. Here, though the biox is just a box, a toy theatre at best, which at least is a nod to early 19th century performance practice, which is valid enough.   But we've long outgrown painted flats but wooden acting was what we got here. No disrespect to the singers but to the direction. Stylized gestures and poses can be used effectively but here there didn't seem much purpose.   Gretchen (Elsa Dreisig) and Marthe (Katharina Kammerloher) are cliché maidens, the sprites and demons comic book caricature, the choirs nuns in cartoon wimples.

Goethe populates the Second Part with allegory : Doctor Marianus and Pater Profundis, for example, and the tale becomes metaphysical fantasy.  Thus it's perfectly natural for the singers to sing two "parts" but the parts aren't continuations of the drama that went on before.  The logic behind some of this staging might seem to grow from this duality, which Schumann  (and later Mahler) respected enough not to tamper with.  Translating it into visuals is tricky.  Pape and Trekel are shadowed by non-singing actors, again a stage device which can work fine sometimes, but here was confusing.  Pape and Trekel spend a lot of time changing costumes, which is OK, but not particularly necessary. Though the presence of choirs and multiple solo voices fills up the stage, too much busy-ness also distracts.  Stefan Herheim can get away with great detail, but his details are thought through and co-ordinated to meaning. Here we just had a lot of a lot.  Schumann's Szenen aus Goethes Faust is fascinating, even though London critics don't get it.  But I reckon this staging won't help much. Pity, since the singing was good and Barenboim conducted with great style.  I loved the dialogue - so important to full realization, especially Gretchen am Spinnrade, recited, as Goethe wrote it, delivered with poetic feeling.

Beefcake ! Berlioz Damnation of Faust Barbican

My review of the Damnation of Faust with Simon Rattle and the London Symphony Orchestra at the  Barbican is HERE. 

Berlioz The Damnation of Faust - Simon Rattle  - Bryan Hymel, Christopher Purves, Karen Cargill,  London Symphony Orchestra, Barbican, London . Review HERE. Watch this space and read my other posts on Faust and his many incarnations - not just Berlioz !  (see labels below)

Mailied - Goethe, egotist

Wie herrlich leuchtet
Mir die Natur!
Wie glänzt die Sonne!
Wie lacht die Flur!

Es dringen Blüten
Aus jedem Zweig
Und tausend Stimmen
Aus dem Gesträuch

Und Freud' und Wonne
Aus jeder Brust.
O Erd', o Sonne!
O Glück, o Lust!

O Lieb', o Liebe!
So golden schön,
Wie Morgenwolken
Auf jenen Höhn!

Du segnest herrlich
Das frische Feld,
Im Blütendampfe
Die volle Welt.

O Mädchen, Mädchen,
Wie lieb' ich dich!
Wie blickt dein Auge!
Wie liebst du mich!

So liebt die Lerche
Gesang und Luft,
Und Morgenblumen
Den Himmelsduft,

Wie ich dich liebe
Mit warmem Blut,
Die du mir Jugend
Und Freud' und Mut

Zu neuen Liedern
Und Tänzen gibst.
Sei ewig glücklich,
Wie du mich liebst!

Goethe's Mailied, set by Beethoven  (op 52/4).  "How gloriously Nature shines for me ! How the sun shines, how the meadow smiles !  Blossoms burst from every branch and a thousand voices sing from every shrub ! Joy and delight in every breast, O Earth ! O Sun ! O Happniess ! O Hope ! O Life ! O Love !  How beautifully golden seem the morning clouds above the hilltops.  Gloriously blessed are the fertile fields. The whole world is haloed by blossom.  O maiden, maiden, how I love you, how your eyes shine, because you love me . The lark loves song and flight,  the flowers of morning the scents of Heaven. , How I love you. You make my blood warm with the vigour of youth, and happiness and courage. On to new songs and dances I go.  Be forever glad as you love me ! "

And that's the kick. The poem is All About Him. Nature exists to make him feel good (and horny). And may the beloved be lucky as long as she loves him, too.

  

Goethe's März Lied

Es ist ein Schnee gefallen, 

denn es ist noch nicht Zeit, 

daß von den Blümlein allen 

wir werden hoch erfreut. 

 Der Sonnenblick betrüget

 mit mildem falschem Schein, 

die Schwalbe selber lüget,

 warum? Sie kommt allein! 

Sollt ich mich einzeln freuen, 

wenn auch der Frühling nah? 

Doch kommen wir zu zweien,

 gleich ist der Sommer da! 

Goethe

 Snow has fallen. It's not time yet for flowers to bring cheer.  The sun's rays seem mild but they're a trap.  Even the swallow is cheating. Why  Because he comes on his own !  When Spring is so close, could I ever be happy on my own  ?  Yet when the two of us are one, it will be Summer.forever.

Mailied with a twist

It's May and all the buds are bursting into bloom !  O Earth, O sun, O joy, O hope,, O love, O Love !  The protagonist loves the girl because she makes him happy, which is fair enough. But as Richard Stokes pointed out ages ago, it's Goethe, and there's a broader idea in the end. Sei ewig glücklich, wie du mich liebst! May you ever be happy the way that you love me.

 Wie herrlich leuchtet Mir die Natur! Wie glänzt die Sonne! Wie lacht die Flur!

 Es dringen Blüten Aus jedem Zweig und tausend Stimmen Aus dem Gesträuch,

 Und Freud und Wonne aus jeder Brust. O Erd', O Sonne! O Glück, O Lust! O Lieb', O Liebe!

So golden schön, Wie Morgenwolken Auf jenen Höhn! Du segnest herrlich Das frische Feld,

Im Blütendampfe Die Welt. Mädchen, Mädchen, Wie lieb ich dich! Wie blickt dein Auge, Wie liebst du mich!

So liebt die Lerche Gesang und Luft, und Morgenblumen Den Himmelsduft,

Wie ich dich liebe mit warmen Blut, Die du mir Jugend Und Freud und Mut zu neuen Liedern
Und Tänzen gibst.

Sei ewig glücklich, wie du mich liebst! (which Beethoven repeats 3 times)

A Goethe Palindrome Wigmore Hall Sunday 23rd

Royal Academy of Music Song Circle, Sunday 23/2 4pm Wigmore Hall

Christina Gansch soprano 

Rozanna Madylus mezzo-soprano

 Richard Dowling tenor 

Ed Ballard baritone 

Samuel Queen baritone

Thomas Primrose piano Chad Vindin piano

The Academy Song Circle makes its annual Wigmore Hall appearance for this group of ten Goethe poems, set to music by two of the following : Beethoven, Brahms, Liszt, Loewe, Mendelssohn, Schubert, Schumann and Wolf. Good singers!

"There are many ways of structuring a Lieder recital – songs grouped according to theme, chronology or poet, for example – but the palindromic approach has the advantage of revealing how different composers have reacted to the same words, without juxtaposing the songs in such close proximity that they cancel each other out."

Hugo Wolf Wigmore Hall Kirchschlager Henschel Drake

Julius Drake's latest Hugo Wolf Songbooks recital at the Wigmore Hall featured Angelika Kirchschlager and Dietrich Henschel. These singers have very different voices indeed, so Drake's programme made the most of the contrast.

 The logic behind the song selections revealed itself as the recital progressed, but the evening started with five Mörike songs which Kirchschlager sings so well. Her distinctive, warm timbre adds depth to Wolf's songs, bringing out the sensuality fundamental to their interpretation.  When Kirchschlager sings Wolf, there's nothing precious or effete, even when, as in Erstes Liebeslied eines Mädchen, the girl is so young that she cries "Grief ich eine Schlange" while less innocent ears know what she's really snared in her net. Kirchschlager's forte is natural graciousness.  She's ideal in Wolf because she's subtle, capturing the delicate charm beneath which Mörike shields dangerous thoughts. In Das verlassene Mägdlein, Wolf writes turbulence into the piano part, expressing the emotional tempest the servant girl feels even though she's attending dutifully to her job.  On this occasion, Kirchschlager was singing into words, as if the songs were a vehicle for hochdramatischer grand opera. She's good enough that she was still enjoyable, but it's not her usual style, nor one particularly suited to these songs.

Perhaps this concert was an experiment in turning Wolf's songs into theatre.  It's perfectly reasonable to group Wolf's settings of Goethe's Wilhelm Meister poems into a kind of narrative. The saga is so well known that most listeners understand where the songs belong. Kirchschlager, Henschel and Drake presented the three Harfenlieder songs (plus Spottlied)  with the three Mignon songs, and Philine and Kennst du Das Land.  

This was a welcome chance to enter into the world of the strange old harper and Mignon. Mignon is very young, but has a horrible backstory of abuse.  Kennst du das Land is one of the most beautiful songs ever written, but part of its impact comes from the intense emotions it evokes, emotions almost too extreme to be expressed by a child. Sorrow is central to her personality. "Nun wer die Sensucht kennt, weiss, was ich leide!". The rcihness of Kirchschlager's voice suggests that there are mysteries to Mignon's personality which we may never know. When she sings the downward phrases at the end of Mignon 1 ("und nur ein Gott"), her voices seems to swoon. Julius Drake shows how the phrase is replicated in the piano part, the piano reinforcing what Mignon cannot tell. 

In some repertoire, a voice like Dietrich Henschel's is an advantage. Recently he sang Bernd Alois Zimmermann's  Ich wandte mich um und sah an alles Unrecht (Ecclesiastical Action) for Vladimir Jurowski at the Royal Festival Hall (read review here) where the harsh, apocalyptic subject requires a singer who can sing forcefully, often in tricky, disjointed phrases. Henschel sang that well, but singing Wolf is a different prospect.. Henschel was acceptable in the Harfenspieler songs, because  Goethe deliberately contrasts the ravaged Harper with the angelic Mignon.  In the earlier part of the recital, with other Goethe settings, like Prometheus and Grenzen der Menscheit his singing as marred by excessively wide dynamics. Phrases were pulled out of shape, harsh vibrato overcompensating for dry tone.  It didn't help that Julius Drake pounded ferociously.  He's one of the best pianists for song but here gave his singer no quarter. Henschel's good enough to know when things aren't going well for whatever reason. When Kirchschalger finished singing Philine, Henschel remarked on the final lines "Jeder Tag hat  seine Plage, und die Nacht  hat ihre Lust". Everyone has bad days sometimes. He then approached Spottlied with gruff good humour, defusing some of the bitter envy in the text, which is a perfectly valid interpretation. 
 
Hugo Wolf been called the "Wagner of the Lied" but this refers to the way he rethought the relationship between poetry and song. Indeed, Wolf's sensitivity to miniature nuances precludes Wagnerian treatment. While it was good to hear the Wilhelm Meister songs together, they aren't music theatre but songs to be sung as lyrically as is reasonable.  The encore was Leopold Lenz (1803-62) Nun wer die Sensucht kennt., for two voices and piano. 

Busoni's werewolves - Lieder for Halloween

Lieder for Halloween ? The choice is huge, some choices obvious, But here is one that isn't quite so well known : Ferrucio Busoni's setting of Goethe's Zigeunerlied.

Busoni is best known for Doktor Faust and for his piano music, but he wrote an number of lively songs. Listen to the demented piano part and the refrain "Wille wau wau wau, Wille wo wo wo, Witu hu !". This is a wonderful encore piece, ideally suited to low baritone, and will have audiences wondering who the composer is. The singer here (guess who!) lets his hair down and brings out the dark humour. One of the best versions I've ever heard.Enjoy the almost scat rhythms and play on words. A singer could have fun throwing his head in the air pretending to howl.

A man is out on a windy night and hears the howl of wolves. He takes a shot at a black cat. Not smart ! It's a witch's familiar. Instantly he's surrounded by werewolves. Even in wolf form he recognizes them as women from his village out on a hen night from hell.

 Ich kannte sie all', ich kannte sie wohl Die Anne, die Ursel, die Käth', Die Liese, die Barbe, die Ev', die Beth'; Sie heulten im Kreise mich an. Wille wau wau wau! Wille wo wo wo! Wito hu! 

Da nannt' ich sie alle beim Namen laut: Was willst du Anne? was willst du Beth? Sie rüttelten sich, sie schüttelten sich Und liefen heulend davon. Wille wau wau wau! Wille wo wo wo! Wito hu! 



photo : GCD Comics

Walter Braunfels - Phantastische Erscheinungen eines Themas von Hector Berlioz

Walter Braunfels' Phantastische Erscheinungen eines Themas von Hector Berlioz (Fantastic Appearances of a Theme by Hector Berlioz), Op. 25 (1914-17) is a fascinating work, though you'd never guess from the truncated rump that was done at Prom 68. I was so upset that it's taken me ages to write about the complete(ish) piece, but here at last, as promised. Die Vögel, Te Deum,and Jeanne d'Arc to follow. Fantastic Appearances and  Die Vögel  need to be heard together, for both were written at about the same time, when Braunfels was fighting in the First World War. Like so many of his generation that war changed everything and ushered in what we now call the "Modern" age. Braunfels is not escaping into retro Romanticism but confronting the issues of his times without compromise.

Phantastische Erscheinungen deals with a single theme from Berlioz's The Damnation of Faust., specifically the scene where Faust and Méphistophélès enter the Auerbach tavern in Leipzig. Both of them are out of their usual element, among "normal" people, so there's more to the scene than divertissement. They've come to learn about life and "le fatras de la philosophie". Brander sings the song about rats invading a kitchen. Méphistophélès's response is the song of the flea. A king becomes obssessed with a pet flea and soon the whole court is infested with fleas. "Mais ce qui fut bien pire, C’est que les gens de cour,Sans en oser rien dire,Se grattaient tout le jour"  What's significant is that the courtiers were too cowed to object, so they suffered. The solution, says Méphistophélès, is to squash the fleas forthwith. Nothing "Romantic" about that.

Braunfels begins with an opening like a vista, then zones in on the theme. The moderato variation is glorious, as if Braunfels is describing the splendour of the court, but that's quickly blown away by the turbulent "gusts of wind" in the Gemessen. Storm clouds ahead, even allusions to Faust and Méphistophélès flying through the skies. This "Appearance" is wild, the relentless "winds" pushing higher and higher. No "sudden end" in this part, but stomping ostinato building towards a climax. The unstoppable march of pounding feet ?

In the next three variations, Braunfels examines the basic theme more wistfully, as if he's looking back on more innocent times from different angles, trying to reflect on how things came about. Notice the endings, where in the original, Méphistophélès suggest a sudden, crushing solution. Here they're muted, even open ended. There was a lot of good in Wilhelmine Germany and indeed in German culture as a whole. There's even something Beethovenian in the grace of the Ruhig. Perhaps Braunfels wasn't the kind of man to do violent Putsches. In this work, he considers a small theme from all perspectives.

The Ruhig is transitional, rather than purely "restful", for Braunfels is now looking ahead. The 7th variation is mercurial, like a sprightly dance, but gradually the darker undrtones draw in. All three variations in this penultimate group start with the same exposition, developing different ways. The 8th Appearance is marked by dizzying, spiralling diminuendos, which lead to whizzing, strident alarums. Hence the very short tenth segment, dominated by a single trumpet. The "winds imagery" whips round it, taking over completely in the turbulent 11th variation, a highly dramatic, demonic Moderato. You can almost picture smoke rising from Hell, storms tearing across the heavens. The final variation, is march-like, loud and expansive. Even so the rising cadences soar above, as if searching beyond into the distance. For me, the image of Faust flying above the landscape, borne on the heavy wings of Satan, til eventually textures open outward in an ending that's almost like a chorale. Is Faust redeemed? Braunfels doesn't commit. The Finale restates the basic theme with elements from all the variations - bright, manic, chilling. The Phantastische Erscheinungen are so tightly bound together, that taking excerpts out of context doesn't do justice to this fascinating composer.

Faust - the movie, complete

So many Fausts this year - Gounod Faust in English, Berlioz Monty Python at the ENO, Liszt A Faust Symphony Prom 15 tomorrow and from 18 Sept Gounod Faust in French with Pape, Gheorghiu, Grigolo and Hvorostovsky. Earler this year there was a Faust feat in Oxford, and last year at the Proms Schumann Manfred Symphony. (Please click on label at the right for Proms 2010 (37 posts) and Proms 2009 (43))
So above is the F W Murnau Faust from 1926. This film is a classic and set "Gothic" into the popular psyche ever since. It's as much art as the operas and sympohonies. Some of the actors became big names, like Emil Jannings, Wilhelm Dieterle and Camilla Horn. (lots on Weimar film on this site too, many full dowloads) So enjoy the movie before tomorrow's Prom 15 when Vladimir Jurowski conducts the LPO, Marco Jentsch and two choirs.

Berlioz Gilliam Damnation of Faust ENO - review

Maybe Mephistofeles intervened to blow up Google blogger so this post would disappear! But here it is the long promised review of Gilliam's take on Berlioz Faust at the ENO.  " best approached as a Monty Python skit on the theme of Faust, with incidental soundtrack by Berlioz."  Which is pretty mild indeed.  I don't have any objection to things being updated as long as they're done intelligently and with  purpose. But a collection of images with no meaning makes a mockery of one of the most metaphysical icons of all time. The Germans didn't make a pact with the Devil, nor did the Jews. Racial stereotypes and distortions cause wars. Only with real understanding and sensitivity can we avoid things like the Holocaust ever happening again.

I carefully avoided reading any of Gilliam's interviews and podcasts so I wouldn't be influenced.  But here is a corker you simply couldn't make up. "Berlioz was crackers" said Gilliam, "He suffered like me". Sure Berlioz was full of his own self-importance, but he took the subject seriously. And it's his music, not some irrelevance that gets in the way of what's happening on stage. Many directors new to opera don't understand it. Gilliam actively hates it. Faust was an intellectual who cared about truth and ideals. The Devil and the Brownshirts were anti-intellectuals who put the boot into what they didn't understand. Most ordinary people in Germany probably didn't like the Nazis but were caught up in the hysteria. Any society that mocks intellect and learning falls victim to totalitarian brutality. Beware emotive jackboots!

Faust Feast, Oxford

"In the basement beneath the rolling Quad of Trinity College, a scholar is preparing to offer the devil his soul in exchange for absolute power".

A major festival of Faust related plays, concerts and films take place now in Oxford. Few places could be better posed for true Faustian atmosphere - gargoyles, medieval colleges, cobbled alleyways and above all, ancient libraries, filled with arcane and ancient wisdom. And, one might add, Faust-like scholars buried in books. But some of the "nerds" that have haunted these halls have gone on to unimaginable things and often they don't have to sell their souls. Tim Berners-Lee, for example, who created the World Wide Web, who was at Queen's.

Two versions of Christopher Marlowe's Faust. One by Creation Theatre Company takes place in Blackwell's Bookshop, next to the Quad at Trinity. Imagine, the reality of a bookshop famed for its erudiite stoock, but actors wandering about. Very apt. "Ile burne my bookes!"

Another staging of Marlowe's Faust runs from 9th to 13th February in Corpus Christi College auditorium. Arthur Kincaid directs and acts as Faustus. A true town and gown production, half students, half normal locals. Interesting too, that these productions will use slightly different editions of Marlowe as well as different settings.

Goethe's Faust gets a much welcomed outing from 24th to 26th February in Queen's College Chapel with the Eglesfield Players. A modern translation, staged in a chapel, with a chorus in the cast, the production will "bring all the dramatic (and comic) potential without losing sight of its academic and religious debate" and its resemblance to Oxford life over the ages.

George Lord Byron's epic Manfred gets a reading by professional actors in New College Chapel on March 27.  Manfred of course inspired Schumann, but it's not a piece that lends itself easily to the stage, so hearing it read by people who know drama should be a good experience.

There's so much Faust-inspired music it's hard to imagine it in one concert - Mahler, Busoni, Berlioz, Gounod etc. So see what they do on 5th March at Corpus Christi. The films are Istvan Szabo's Mephisto based on the novel of Klaus Mann and Faustus a ten-minute art piece shot in Merton Chapel.  They're not showing F W Murnau's classic film Faust, but you can watch that on this site  in FULL DOWNLOAD. For more information contact the Oxford Faust Festival on email oxfordfaustfestival@gmail.com. Prices are low, and the Films are free but this is such an adventurous project, it's worth making an effort to participate.

Met Rheingold and ENO Faust

The world did not collapse because the Met staged a new production of Das Rheingold with Robert Lepage's ultramodern staging. See HERE for reviews with photos. Unprecedented expense - the floor had to be reinforced before the sets could safely be installed. The ultimate "special effects" production. Maybe that's what stunned the audience into submission.  Why not . We all know the story and spectacle is definitely what Wagner would have enjoyed.

So why the fuss in the UK press about Gounod Faust at the ENO? Des McAnuff's Faust is going to the Met soon, so maybe for a change NY audiences will be primed to appreciate it better after the shock and awe of Rheingold.

Ironically, McAnuff's Faust is a lot closer to Goethe than Gounod was.  Being a theatre man he goes straight to the heart of the drama. What a story! A  holy old man selling his soul to the devil for a day of youth. He causes mayhem yet is redeemed by love. Goethe didn't need, as Gounod did, to pretty the tale up with divertissements to please the Paris audience. Gloire immortelle de nos aïeux is so wonderful that Gounod had to adjust the plot around it. It had to be "Frenchified" to work. While the essential bones of the story are there, Gounod uses extras like Siébel and Wagner, and some of the Gothic edge is smoothed away.

Plenty of accurately dressed French peasants in the ENO production, so why the fuss? So what if McAnuff's first scene takes place in what looks like a lab? Faust studied the Black Arts, and was completely aware that knowledge can be dangerous if it's used for evil purposes. He called up the Devil, after all. What could be more apposite than atomic bombs? They don't stay in view for long, anyway, and the complex structure of spiral staircases lend itself well when Méphistophélès scoots about from on high.


Similarly, why not psychedelic effects and lurid lights? Witches are afoot in Walpurgisnacht, which is traditionally associated with glowing lights in the mist and bonfires to ward off evil spirits. See the industrial-looking observation building (1890's)  at Brocken in the Harz where Goethe's Walpurgisnacht supposedly took place. (click to expand for detail)

The ENO Faust deserves a lot more respect than it's given. I don't know how Toby Spence was singing on the first night, but the night I went he was very good indeed. Vocally clear and sweet-toned, as befits the "youthful" Faust. Which is how Gounod wrote the part - not for a hefty baritone. Remember too that he knows the part in French. Even if he's a native English speaker, he's a musician accustomed to hearing the musical logic of the original.  Generally good performances all round.

Wouldn't it be ironic if notoriously conservative New York audiences got more out of ENO's Faust than supposedly sharp Londoners ? Now that would be Faustian. Please come back, I'll be writing abiout the Met Lepage Rheingold soon. Search around on this site. There's LOTS on Wagner, The Ring, Stagecraft and Robert LePage.

Watch the FULL DOWNLOAD HERE of F W Murnau's Faust (1927)

Faust - complete download

Not Gounod's Faust at ENO, but  F W Murnau's Faust from 1926. This is based on the Goethe version of the story, with Gretchen burned at the stake. The perspective's completely different from the medieval version. Goethe's heretical!

His God jests with the Devil who makes a bet that he can corrupt even the holiest of men, scholarly old Faust. Germany's in the grip of terrible plague, Savonarolas and false prophets abound. Faust realizes books aren't going to help, so he does a deal with the devil, deliciously played by Emil Jannings, the schoolmaster in The Blue Angel., which you can see in full download on this site by clicking on the link.

Faust gets turned into a handsome young man, re-enacting the youth he probably didn't have curled up with books.  He and Gretchen fall in love and there's a baby. So she gets thrown out and eventually burned at the stake. Faust returns, but now he's old and wretched again. Still, Gretchen recognizes him, and he's redeemed. Liebe, says the film, written in flames.  Love wins, not so much God, unless it was God who willed love to happen.

This film is such an influential classic. The Four Horsemen of the Apocalpse, the crowd scenes, and the landscape over which the Devil flies, carrying Faust in his arms.  Evil birds of doom, a bit like cranes but scarier. Precursors of the airborne hordes in Flash Gordon or Apocalypse Now? A very "Germanic" setting. This proved to be Murnau's last Weimar movie. By 1927 he was settled successfully in Hollywood. What a cultural jump from Faust to Sunrise, Murnau's adaptation of a Gerrman story to open-air California.

Schubert Goerne Deutsch Wigmore Hall (2)

This second of two recitals of Schubert songs by Matthias Goerne and Helmut Deutsch at the Wigmore Hall showed the range of Schubert's interest in the poets of his time. This programme was brilliantly put together by someone who really knows the inner dynamic of Schubert's music.

Starting a recital with An die untergehende Sonne was daring. Immediately we're thrown into darkness. "Immer tiefer, immer leiser, immer ernster". The text may be peaceful, but the dizzying descent in the piano part hints at something more unsettling. Without a break, Goerne launched into Der Tod und das Mädchen. The tolling prelude makes it clear this "sleep" is death. The poet is Matthias Claudius, pictured here, but the concept goes right back to the Middle Ages, It permeates Schubert's aesthetic.

The theme recurs in Die Rose and Viola. Note the contrast between the two poems and Schubert's settings. Die Rose is a poem by Freidrich von Schlegel. It's beautifully, concisely written. The first stanza in particular scans so tightly, it's like music: no wonder Schubert was drawn to it. It's such a good poem, it's a joy to read and savour word by word. Schlegel covers a wide range of images in a few brief lines. Goerne respects each word, colouring and shading with nuance, so the rose comes alive in sound, before it slowly fades away.

In contrast Viola, to a poem by Schubert's rakish friend Franz von Schober. "Schneeglöcklein" runs the refrain. Six verses down the violet awakes. Seven stanzas later she flees "von der tiefsten Angst verfleischt". The violet's come out too soon and is frozen. Silver bells, bridegrooms, flowers anthromorphized so cornily that even Disney might cringe. Even Schubert struggles to make sense of the endless verses. Both Schubert and von Schober would have known Goethe's poem Das Vielchen, and Mozart's setting. Strophic ballads don't have to be maudlin. Goerne makes the song believable by singing without excess ornament. After Die Rose, it's hard to take Viola. It's a measure of Goerne's skill that he can pull it off.

Another very intelligent pairing : Auf dem Wasser zu Singen and Der Zwerg. Both songs describe death on the water, but in sharp contrast. In the former, Schubert's melody dances delicately, so you can almost see the schimmernden Wellen as the boat gently glides on the lake. Don't be lulled. The little boat is a metaphor for the passing of time. The poem, by Friedrich Graf zu Stollberg-Stolberg ( double barrelled prince) is altogether more sophisticated than the shock horror gothic in Der Zwerg. which ends in suicide-murder.

Matthäus von Collin's poem isn't bad, though. Rather than being a subtle mood piece it's a saga in miniature. The dwarf and the queen have a long, complex history. She willingly accepts being murdered, even absolving the killer. It's pretty kinky. Schubert doesn't exaggerate the lurid colours, though his setting is dramatic. This song is always a show stopper, it's so good. Again, Goerne doesn't give in to pathos, his singing giving the dwarf dignity and respect. That last line, An keiner Küste is so chillingly sung that Goerne hints that the real horror is yet to come. The dwarf might not escape in death, but be cursed to sail forever on the lake, trapped in time.

But as usual, Goethe gets the last word. Pairing An die Entfernte with Ganymed brings out another dynamic in this extremely well planned programme. The first ends with the plaintive call O komm, Geliebete, mir zurück, and the second contains the soaring phrase Ich komme, ich komme ! Wohin? Ach, wohin? Schubert emphasizes the significance of this phrase by setting it "in high relief", pauses on either side to accentuate the arc in the line. And then, hinab strebt's 's hinauf!, Goerne's voice lifting upwards, impressively. He catches the impatience in the song - Mir! Mir! and Aufwärts!. The stillness that prevailed before is now blown away by urgency. Just as the concert began with the downward spiral of An die untergehende Sonne, it ended with energetic animation, thrusting upwards.

The trail of the missing Mendelssohn songs

Imagine the media hysteria if some unknown work by Mozart or Schubert were found? When dodgy bits of "evidence" or composer trivia about a composer come up, the world goes agog with frenzy. But when 46 "unknown" songs by Mendelssohn are unearthed, there's hardly a ripple. Why?

The discovery of these songs is quite a story. Mendelssohn was so prolific that he simply didn't get around to cataloguing and publishing all he wrote. He was a workaholic, a genius in many fields. Apart from composing, he was a virtuoso pianist and violinist, a painter, an athlete, and a formidable organizer of orchestras and cultural events. He spent his gap year in the Scottish Highlands, in those days very remote and primitive. He died aged only 38, weakened by exhaustion.

The "unknown" songs were scattered among his manuscripts, which have since themselves been scattered around the world. There's a big cache of Mendelssohn papers in the Bodleian Library in Oxford, donated via his grandchildren, (of whom there were many), so that's where Eugene Asti went to follow the trail of the "missing" songs.

Mendelssohn's penmanship was so clear that the manuscripts were easy to transcribe, even though the composer wrote quickly, with great fluency. Tracking down the poems was in most cases straightforward - Goethe, Holty, Uhland - but others proved more elusive since some were written by the composer himself, and in Fraktur, the old-style German script that most people can't read today. Mendelssohn's letters and papers provide background into how and when the songs were written, and for whom. Intriguingly, there are references to yet more unknown songs.

What's even more remarkable is how good some of these songs are. Nachtlied, from 1847, should take its place in any anthology of Eichendorff settings. Two lovely matching strophes blossom into swelling, soaring lines as the song describes a nightingale, greeting the dawn.

Altdeutsches Frühlingslied, also from the same period towards the end of Mendelssohn's life, is another masterpiece. The piano part is brooding, melancholy, figures repeating like circles, reflecting the despair that lies under the ostensibly cheerful text (Friedrich Spee von Langenfeld 1591-1635). Spring has returned after a hard winter, "everyone is happy, wallowing almost in pleasure" (wonderful idiomatic translation by Richard Stokes). But the protagonist quietly states Nur ich allein, Ich liede Pein. In the winter just past, someone very dear him was taken away. So much nonsense is written about Mendelssohn being "happy" and mindless. This song is further evidence how silly the myth is. Mendelssohn wasn't given to unseemly display, he didn't flaff about. But his emotions ran very deep indeed. The deeply felt intensity of the final verse breaks through the polite homilies to Spring, chilling the atmosphere. Mendelssohn's beloved sister Fanny had just passed away, but feelings as passionate as these spring from veryt deep sources in the composer's personality.

Part of the reason Mendelssohn songs don't grab the average listener at first is that they don't word paint the way we're used to. Goethe is famously supposed to have rejected Schubert's settings of his poems. There's no direct evidence he even saw them, but it fits in with ideas prevalent in Goethe's circles which considered noble ideas and text more important than musical invention. Mendelssohn was very much in Goethe's orbit. the picture above shows him aged 9, playing for Goethe. Goethe adored the young Mendelssohn, introducing him to composers he knew, like Zelter. So Mendelssohn is very much a part of that neo-classical sensibility, where people didn't do unseemly self-display. Nonetheless, Mendelssohn was far too original not to connect to the early Romantic mode. He just did it in a different, more self-effacing way. Mendelssohn songs are an important thread in song development: at times you can hear where Schumann and Brahms got their ideas from.

The Goethean mindset certainly doesn't preclude passion. Die Liebende schreibt, an 1830 setting of Goethe, is surprisingly erotic. The poet's so much in love that his whole being focuses on the idea of a letter from the beloved. Yet in his quietly observant way, Mendelssohn has picked up that the beloved does not actually respond. The composer puts his emphasis on the small phrase "Gib mir ein Zeichen", (give me a sign). The word Zeichen repeats, ever louder and more passionately, as if Mendelssohn is reminding us that it's been sent out in hope, and there might, conceivably, be no answer.

Lots of other beautiful songs, too, like Seltsam, Muter, geht es mir (1830 to Johannes Ludwig Casper). The young girl's thrilled by the physical sensation of being in love, like the rising of sap in spring. Mendelsson expresses her excitement with breathless, rollicking lines: you can almost feel the girl's heart beat faster and faster. The punchline's hilarious, the girl doesn't know why her mother knows about such things. This, incidentally, is a song only discovered in 2007 when the manuscript came up for sale, having been uncatalogued and in private hands for 150 years.

Since Eugene Asti spent so many hours burrowing away in the Bodleian, it was good to hear the songs performed at the Holywell Music Room, a few hundred metres from where the papers are preserved. Asti's work is informed by his experience as a pianist, so his new edition of the "unknown" songs for Bärenreiter are specially valuable for practical performance. I had a quick look at the book. It's very detailed, lots of notes on critical decisions made and background material which will enrich interpretation. Serious Mendelssohn singers and painists need this work. HERE is a link to the edition on Bärenreiter's site.

The Oxford Lieder Festival brings treasures like this all the time, which is why it's such an important series for serious music people. Make an effort to attend as it's always interesting. This concert was almost sold out, which was good since the premiere at Kings Place in London in February happened during a blizzard and didn't get the attendance such an occasion deserved. Tonight the artists were young and relatively unknown (Aoife Miskelly, Roderick Morris, Peter Davoren, Marcus Farnsworth, Christopher Hopkins and Colin Scott) but that was no demerit: some of these songs were written for private, intimate performance, like Lied zum Geburtstage meines guten Vaters, which the 10-year-old Felix wrote for his father's birthday in 1819. His sister Fanny wrote a song too, it must have been quite some party.

Mendelssohn wrote many part songs because they suit performances where people sing and play for pleasure, not to display technique. In his understated way, Mendelssohn gets to the heart of why music is so much fun for ordinary people. The final song in this concert was Volslied, a song where the whole ensemble could join together. Written in 1839, it was performed at the composer's funeral service a few years later. Different soloists sing different lines, but they unite in the full-throated final verse, Wenn Menschen auseinander gehn, so sagen sie : Auf Wiedersehen ! The last two words repeat again and again as if the composer can't bear to let them end. Yet the same notes appear throughout the song, in different guises, so if you hear the song again, it's haunted by "Auf Wiedersehen".

Schubert Mayrhofer and Goethe Goerne WH

When Matthias Goerne sings, it's never superficial. Lieder is a genre that needs almost as much engagement from listeners as from performers. "It's like a church in there,"someone said to me about the Wigmore Hall. "They're 'really' listening".

Schubert's settings of Mayrhofer filled the first part of the recital. Mayrhofer was an unstable personality who dramatically drowned himself. That happened years after these songs were written, but even his youth Mayrhofer had an unhealthy fascination with death, with water, stars and death, extreme even by the standards of early 19th century Romanticism. How much Schubert sensed Mayrhofer's problems we'll never know as he broke off their friendship soon after the songs were written. But in these settings there's a distinct sense of unnatural calm.

Steady, undulating rhythms evoke waves, whether on the Danube or in Venice. The effect is almost hypnotic, revealing Mayrhofer's obsessional fixations. Water images occur frequently in Schubert's music, but rarely as unnervingly as in these songs. "Die Erde ist gewaltig schön doch sicher ist sie nicht" (Wie Ulfru fisht, D 525) No wonder the poet envies the fish hidden in the depths, and the stars in the sky above.

The incessant rocking rhythms of the waters are matched by delicate triplets which evoke the twinkling of distant stars. Lied eines Schiffers an die Dioskuren D 360 is relatively calm, for it describes a sailor already on his journey to death, guided and comforted by the stars.

In performance, sometimes the surface loveliness of these songs distracts from true meaning, but a singer like Goerne understands their inner portent. His voice is capable of great force and fire, but in these songs he tempered power with extreme restraint, true to the spirit of Mayrhofer who was desperately keeping his demons under control.

Goethe's Wilhelm Meister poems lend themselves to much greater dramatic intensity .As he enters his forties, Goerne's voice has grown with maturity. There's no one singing now who can match the gravitas of his lower register, but what's even more impressive is the fluidity with which he can phrase and colour words within lines with precise nuance.

These songs allow moments of great power. Wer nie sein Brot mit Tränen aß (D 840) culminates in crescendi of anguish, which Goerne expresses with surges, not of volume alone, but of emotional depth. Eric Schneider ha s been playing with Goerne for about 15 years, but now he's playing with more articulation and maturity. In the Mayrhofer settings his "star" and "water" passages were eeerily acute. In the Harper songs, he made the piano sing like a harp, not a huge concert hall harp, but the smaller, more intimate harp a wandering minstrel like Wilhelm Meister would have played : it was uncannily vivid, very haunting.

An Mignon (D 161) refers to Mignon, whose frail innocence is tested by tragedy. In many ways, Goerne's agility in lighter, higher passages is even more impressive, for dark timbred voices don't easily lend themselves to such gentleness. Fast paced songs also test a deep baritone, so the frisky Der Fischer (D225) truly tested the agiilty of Goerne's pacing. When he sings the words of the girl in the poem he doesn't even try to mimic a female voice, instead making the transition by brightening and sharpening the tone.

Good technique makes such singing possible, what makes Goerne's musicianship so interesting is the emotional depths he can reach. "Ich denke dein" he sings in Nähe des Geliebten (D 62), warmed with heartfelt ardor. But the beloved isn't actually near but far away. So the voice swells, open-throated, matching the expansive motifs in the piano part.

Read the full review in Opera Today. This was the first of two Schubert recitals taking place at the Wigmore Hall in London.Wait for the next concert tonight, too. PLEASE SEE OTHER posts on Goerne, Goethe, Schubert, Lieder, Wigmore Hall, Schumann, Wolf  etc. my passion for 50 years.

New series of streamed operas online -Goethe

Opera Today magazine is big on repertoire. It streams whole operas, usually grouped round a theme so they can be appreciated in context. Usually they'ree supported with full librettos and reference material. A labour of love!

The latest theme is Goethe, who inspired so many composers in so many genres. First off in the season is a 1953 studio performance of Gounod's Faust featuring Boris Christoff, Nicolai Gedda and Victoria de los Angeles. Andre Cluytens conducts. It's excellent, I'm enjoying it so much. Listen to it HERE

Previous series, which you can still access include :
Operas to poetry by Friedrich von Schiller - seven operas incl Don Carlos etc
Das Ring des Neibelungen - Wolfgang Sawallisch in Rome 1968
Ten operas featuring Maria Callas
Thirteen operas of Richard Strauss
Sixteen operas on the theme Greeks Bearing Gifts

Keep exploring the site as there are many, many more goodies within, including rarities. Some sites are just collections of reviews, but Opera Today is dedicated to much more. Bookmark it for weeks of busy listening.

Goethe's birth house child as father of the man

Als ich noch ein Knabe war,
Sperrte man mich ein;
Und so saß ich manches Jahr
Über mir allein,
Wie im Mutterleib.
Doch du warst mein Zeitvertreib,
Goldne Phantasie,
Und ich war ein warmer Held,
Wie der Prinz Pipi,
Und durchzog die Welt.

"When I was a lad, I used to get locked up. I was alone, as in the womb, but to pass time, I had golden fantasies that I could be a hero like Prince Pipi and go throughout the world."

Goethe's father believed children should not be shielded from fear. Young Goethe and his sister were frightened by the gloomy corners of the dark old house he grew up in and and used to sneak off to sleep with the maids. The father, disguised by his dressing gown worn inside out, hid in the corners to scare them off back to their own beds. Later, Goethe wrote, "How can anyone faced with such terrors be freed from fear?" Fortunately, Goethe was securely loved. Imagination goes both ways. As he says in his poem, in dreams anyone can become a prince.

Did Erlkönig germinate on the house in the Grosser Hirschgaben, so sunny and cheerful by day ?

Mein Vater, mein Vater, und hörest du nicht,
Was Erlenkönig mir liese verspricht?
Ruhig, bleibe ruhig, mein Kind:
In dürren Blättern säuselt der Wind.

Stand on the vast staircase in Goethe's birthplace and imagine it's the 1750's and you're less than a metre tall. The stairs on the ground floor are wide, and ornately decorated, but past the upper floors, they narrow and twist. The maids are right at the top, past crooked gables. The only light, if you're lucky, is the moon.

The original house was destroyed in 1945, when most of old Frankfurt was carpet bombed and thousands died. It was one of the first places to be rebuilt, for Goethe represents so much that is good and noble. The basic proportions of the main building show how very different the home was from palaces and churches. The family lived in close proximity with their servants. There must have been so much activity, keeping that busy household going. While young Goethe played toy theatre with grandma, his parents were making music in the next room, the cook and maids in the kitchen, the ostlers tending horses in the yard. Romanticism isn't remote or aristocratic, but human scale.

For all his fantasies about ancient Greece, Goethe knew very well what made people tick. In one of the studies, he wrote The Sorrows of Young Werther, an expression of what we'd now call teenage angst.

That's why he is such a monumental figure. He straddles the classical and the Romantic, the 18th and 19th centuries, the old order and the new, the aristocracy and the peasants. He's an experimental thinker, interested in many different arts and sciences. He combines high flown philosophy with practical government. He adored young Mendelssohn, though probably didn't even see (or understand) the scores Schubert sent him. Goethe is a Renaissance man, who helped change the world.

So a visit to his birthplace is rewarding. Use your imagination, like he did. Wish away the tourists, and you're in the birthplace of the Romantic, cradled in ancient tradition. Even Goethe didn't know why the street was called Hirschgaben. Long before his time it was part of the medieval commonland, where stags were pastured, semi-domesticated, like Frankfurt itself, still rural despite being urban. Once, long ago, I drove a powerful car on the autobahn round the city, seeing the glass canyons of the banking district in the distance. Brave New Europe and the ideals it symbolizes. Goethe is as valid today as he ever was.