Schumann Liederkreis, op. 39 – Introduction

The academic year has come to a close, and with it, my absence from this blog! In this welcome hiatus from the daily routine of teaching lessons and classes, I am excited to work on my own projects.

On October 14th, 2011 at 7:30 PM, I am scheduled to give a recital with pianist Andrew Fleser at Concordia College in Moorhead. On the program (tentatively) are Schumann’s Liederkreis, Op. 39 (Literally, “Song Cycle”), John Duke’s 3 “people” songs, and Auric’s Huit poemes de Jean Cocteau. I have performed the Duke and Auric before, but not the Schumann. I know I have heard the Liederkreis in the past, but it has never gripped me the way Schumann’s iconic song cycles Dichterliebe and Frauenliebe und -leben have. I think it’s time that changed.

I am going to take a new approach to learning this cycle by translating, considering, meditating upon, and memorizing the texts first, without the aid of music. I want to come up with my own sense of the story and become intimately familiar with the words and the characters before I begin to be influenced by Schumann’s ideas. This may be difficult as I have already spent a bit of time looking over the pieces this spring while trying to decide whether or not to commit to the cycle, but I intend to try.

I invite you to come with me on this journey over the next several weeks. I’m going to write about a song text each day, without sheet music (readily available at IMSLP or in many published editions) and without performance examples. Particularly because the title “Song Cycle” does not imply any story or anything other than the fact that the pieces are part of a whole, it will be an adventure!

Robert Schumann: Du ring an meinem Finger (Thou ring on my finger)

by darklyseen (CC)

Robert Schumann’s song cycles Frauenliebe und –leben (The loves and lives of women) and Dichterliebe (The poet’s love) hold almost universal appeal among listeners and singers young and old, new and seasoned, amateur and professional. Not only are the real-life scenarios of love and love lost easy to grasp, but Schumann also sets them with heart-rending effectiveness.

In Du Ring an meinem Finger, we witness a private moment where a newly-engaged woman marvels in the beauty of a ring that somehow makes tangible the intangibility of love. Something about the rising and falling motion of the vocal line and the tenderness of the accompaniment is strikingly intimate. The middle section of the piece borrows heavily from the second song in the cycle, (Er, der Herrlichste von Allen, a song all about the wonders of the man whom she loves) with the text “I will serve him, live for him, belong to him entirely.” The piece finally returns to the revelry of the initial rocking melody.

• Video (Elly Ameling) – YouTube
• Text (Adelbert von Chamisso) and Translation – recmusic.org
• Accompaniment – YourAccompanist.com
• IPA Transcription & Translation – ipasource.com
• Score (Entire cycle) – IMSLP

Robert Schumann: Waldesgespräch (Conversation in the wood)

"Great are the deceit and cunning of men"

On a late, cold evening a man rides through the woods. He meets a beautiful woman who tells him to leave. When he recognizes her as the Lorelei, she condemns him to remain lost in the woods forever. The last strains of the song return to the horn-call motive of the man, but he does not sing; his voice has been silenced.

• Streaming recordings
  • Audio (Elly Ameling) – last.fm
  • Audio (Lotte Lehmann) – last.fm
  • Video (Hermann Prey) – YouTube
  • Video (Brigitte Heuser) – YouTube
• Text (Josef Karl Benedikt von Eichendorff) – recmusic.org
• Score – artsongcentral.com
• Article on the Lorelei – wikipedia

Robert Schumann: Widmung (Dedication)

"Mein guter Geist, mein bess'res ich"

I initially wanted to post the lesser-known Widmung by Robert Franz, a lovely piece in its own right. But the Jessye Norman video of the Schumann song by the same title — the old “chestnut —  captured me so completely, I had to post it. If I can find a recording of the Franz, I’ll post that at a later date.

• Video (Jessye Norman) – YouTube (unfortunately, the intro & coda have been cut)
• Video (Elly Ameling) – YouTube
• Text (Friedrich Rückert) – recmusic.org
• Score – artsongcentral.com

Eichendorff: Die Stille (The stillness)

Stillness by AlicePopkorn (CC)

Knows or guesses but no one
How I am so well, so well!
Ah, if but one, just one would know it,
No person should know it otherwise.

Not so calm is it outside in the snow,
Not so quiet and hushed
Are the stars in the heights
As are my thoughts.

I’d wish I were a birdie
and travel over the sea,
far over the sea and beyond,
until I were in heaven.

Like the prior poems Schumann chose for his Liederkreis, this poem has a definite longing for an existence beyond perception through the mortal veil. It is a portrait of the inner life of a soul reaching toward the one and only thing that will fulfill it.  It is unclear whether the speaker yearns for the beloved or the Beloved and what form fulfillment will take.

The mystery of the poem is greatly enhanced by Eichendorff’s masterful manipulation of the German language — it’s worthy of a thesis unto itself! Eichendorff keeps the reader guessing by twisting grammatical constructs, by inserting slight variations of thoughts, and by delaying crucial pieces of information as long as possible. Images come into focus, go out of focus, and come into focus again, slowly and  gradually.

By using the subjunctive voice in the first and last stanzas to evoke the world of the imaginary and the”what if”, Eichendorff mystifies the reader; when he uses the indicative voice — the “real” voice — in the second stanza, the imagery is so ethereal and dreamy that it still seems imaginary. No matter how calm and clear the speaker’s thoughts may be, the reader really doesn’t know precisely what those thoughts are or where they are going.

I’m still puzzling about the placement of Waldesgespräch, because its menacing tone between Intermezzo and Die Stille seems somewhat out of place. We’ll see how this plays out in the next few songs!

Johannes Brahms: Blinde Kuh (Blind man’s bluff)

Ach, sie versteckt sich immer, daß ich verschmachten soll!

Love is a game, making children out of the best of us.  Brahms manages to capture the image of children chasing each other in a game of blind man’s bluff (or literally, “blind cow”) with the perpetual motion of the running sixteenth notes in the piano. The singer sneaks around as well, particularly in the beginning, before simply crying out for the game to stop at the end.

• Audio (Elisabeth Schumann) – last.fm
• Text (August Kopisch) & Translation – recmusic.org
• Score – IMSLP