BOB CHILCOTT
CHRISTMAS ORATORIO NEAL DAVIES
SARAH CONNOLLY
NICK PRITCHARD
CHOIR OF MERTON COLLEGE, OXFORD BENJAMIN NICHOLAS
FRANZ SCHUBERT (1797–1828)
LIEDER: LOVE'S LASTING POWER Harriet Burns soprano Ian Tindale piano
Harriet Burns and Ian Tindale are grateful to have received the financial support of many individuals who have sponsored this recording. In addition to those who wish to remain anonymous, they would like to extend particular thanks to City Music Foundation, The Marchus Trust, Elizabeth Millward, Jacky Erwteman, Jan Wiener, Jane Mackay, Laura Lowenthal, The Nicholas Boas Trust, Peter & Veronica Lofthouse, Peter Nathanielsz & Lucilla Poston and Simon Hillson. Recorded on 8-10 February 2023 in St Mary’s Parish Church, Haddington Producer/Engineer: Paul Baxter 24-bit digital editing: Jack Davis 24-bit digital mastering: Paul Baxter Piano: Steinway & Sons model D, serial no. 600443 Piano technician: Norman Motion
Design: Drew Padrutt Booklet editor: Henry Howard Session photography: foxbrush.co.uk Cover photo: Annie Spratt/Unsplash Delphian Records Ltd – Edinburgh – UK www.delphianrecords.com
@ delphianrecords @ delphianrecords @ delphian_records
1
Die Liebe (Freudvoll und leidvoll), D210
[1:36]
2
Lachen und Weinen, D777
[1:48]
3
Die Männer sind mechant (from Vier Refrainlieder), D866 No. 3
[2:36]
4
Dass sie hier gewesen, D775
[2:56]
5
Suleika I, D720 [5:15]
6
Wiedersehn, D855
[2:43]
7
Heimliches Lieben, D922
[4:23]
8
Versunken, D715
[2:16]
9
Erster Verlust, D226
[1:48]
10
Amalia, D195 [3:20]
11
Lambertine, D301 [3:14]
12
Die Liebe hat gelogen, D751
[2:35]
13
An mein Herz, D860
[3:10]
14
Der Jüngling an der Quelle, D300
[1:51]
15
Der Zwerg, D771
[5:20]
16
Hippolits Lied, D890
[2:34]
17
Du liebst mich nicht, D756
[3:36]
18
Viola, D786
[12:48]
19
Geheimnis, D491
[2:26]
20
Seligkeit, D433
[2:01]
Total playing time [68.27]
Notes on the music Between 1894 and 1895, the musicologist Eusebius Mandyczewski produced a brand-new edition of Franz Schubert’s complete solo songs. These handsome hardback volumes still appear from time to time in antiquarian bookshops, and can also be found in larger public libraries. If you should happen to pull one down from the shelf and open it, you’d discover an impressively widemargined page, with neat print and spacious staves. The edition gives performers plenty of room to absorb what is presented there. And it is precisely this sense of room – physical, emotional, dramatic and interpretative – that drew Harriet Burns and Ian Tindale to the music of Schubert in the first place. ‘We’ve been performing together for eight years or more,’ Ian explains, ‘and we’ve always done Schubert – he’s been a really important part of our development as a duo. Plus there’s a constant challenge in the simplicity of what you get on the page … there’s so much to be unlocked.’ The key to unlocking this recording is the Franz von Schober setting Viola, composed in March 1823. Schober was one of Schubert’s closest and most trusted friends, rich and handsome, generous and sociable, and always up for a good time. But Viola dates from a very particular and upsetting moment in Schubert’s life. By early 1823 he was suffering the first symptoms of syphilis, possibly as a result of visiting a prostitute at Schober’s encouragement. He spent time in hospital, suffered from profound depression, and was to experience bouts of
serious ill health for the rest of his short life as a result. The subject of Viola – a tender flower who is over-eager and subsequently blighted, dying alone and ashamed – is painfully close to the bone. And yet, despite such tragedy, Viola is a perfect little world all its own. The snowdrops (‘little snow bells’ in German) chime delicately as the song begins; Spring approaches to cheerful fanfares, and the eponymous Violet prepares herself for her wedding. That she is a flower does not lessen the care that Schubert takes in depicting her apprehension and sorrow, and she trembles and weeps audibly in the shivering piano writing. The snowdrops ring out tenderly in her memory as the song closes. It is Schubert’s gentle and compassionate probing of the human condition that Harriet and Ian find so compelling, often focussing on a single (sometimes named) protagonist. We also meet Amalia, the heroine of Friedrich Schiller’s play Die Räuber, a heroic young woman who is in love with a man she believes to be dead. Her song begins with poised, hymn-like praise of her lost lover – but this quickly gives way to fiery memories of his kisses and embraces, and an outburst of heartbreak and pain as she reveals that he is gone. By contrast, Lambertine reveals that she is in love with a man who does not reciprocate her feelings, and yet resolves to love him still. Schubert colours each word of her monologue with exquisite care, pushing the
music into unexpected keys and emphasising crucial words: ‘despair’ in the first verse, and in the last, the thing that brings her sweet relief despite everything – ‘his image’. Hippolits Lied, much like Amalia, was taken from a larger prose work – in this case the novel Gabriele by Johanna Schopenhauer. He is prompted to sing it on realising that, although he loves Gabriele, she is married to another man and he must leave. Singer and pianist re-tread the same mournful, circular paths over and over again: but there is no escape from this tragic plight. The famous Suleika I adopts the persona of the Persian lover of Hatem, savouring the east wind’s caresses as it reminds her of her distant beloved. This is Schubert at his most sensual, the sinuous chromatic writing of the opening building to a joyous climax at the thought of Suleika being reunited with Hatem at last. Love and friendship sit at the heart of many of these Lieder – not just in their poetic messages, but also the creative partnerships behind each piece. Suleika was long attributed to Goethe, but the poem was originally written by the actress and author Marianne von Willemer. Hippolits Lied appears in Johanna Schopenhauer’s Gabriele, but was written by her friend and later lover Friedrich von Gerstenbergk. And the poetry of August von Platen reached Schubert through a mutual friend, Franz von Bruchmann.
Platen’s diaries reveal that he was gay, and for some time hopelessly in love with an army officer whom he referred to as ‘Adrast’. The poem Die Liebe hat gelogen may well have been written with Adrast in mind, and Schubert’s tormented realisation makes surprising use of major harmonies as well as tragic minor chords – the former often even more piercing than the latter. The aching heartbeat of this song is replaced in Du liebst mich nicht by a slightly different, but equally insistent rhythmic motto. In combination with the almost obsessive repetition of the phrase ‘you do not love me’, we are left in no doubt that our protagonist has been utterly, bitterly ruined by this rejection. The song accompanist and Schubertian Graham Johnson – a much-loved mentor of Harriet and Ian – has mused that ‘there is a curious sense of intrigue in the poet’s sending such selfrevelatory poems’ to a composer he had never met. We cannot know the exact nature, platonic or romantic, of relationships in Schubert’s circle, but his ability to empathise with Platen’s plight is profoundly moving. For Harriet, the crucial element in songs such as Platen’s is their vulnerability. ‘There’s so much beauty within the small and the vulnerable, and we’re enjoying not shying away from that – being as vulnerable as we can be.’ The most aphoristic expression of that tender fragility is surely Die Liebe, taken from Goethe’s play Egmont and sung by Klärchen, Egmont’s lover, as she tries to explain her feelings for him.
Notes on the music Schubert does not shy away from setting this pithy poem without repetition, and the steady tempo gives him (and us) the opportunity to contemplate and weigh each word of Klärchen’s joyous, unshakeable love. This kind of musical alchemy led another of the composer’s close friends and regular collaborators, Johann Mayrhofer, to contemplate Schubert’s talents in poetry – which were then realised in song. Geheimnis bears the subtitle ‘An Franz Schubert’, and is addressed directly to its subject: ‘O say’. What is so remarkable is that Schubert effectively answers the questions and observations that Mayrhofer poses in real (musical) time. Haydn and Mozart peek from the elegant opening lines; the topography of the misty landscape is traced out by the pianist’s hands; and the free unfolding of the final lines suggest music being written before our very eyes. How does a duo go about preparing such well-loved songs as these, when the spacious possibilities of the score must be set alongside the hundreds of interpretations (recorded and otherwise) already available? ‘I often come at these songs from a Classical perspective,’ Ian explains, ‘and then need to find where the boundaries of Romanticism come in.’ Constant experimentation is clearly key – Harriet talks about identifying those moments ‘where we can dare to eke it out a bit more’ – and of course, every performance is slightly different.
There are very particular challenges in Schubert’s longer ballades, which often feature multiple characters; and none are more mysterious than Der Zwerg. Matthäus von Collin’s Gothic tale of betrayal and murder is cast as a conversation between a queen and her dwarf, alone on a ship in the twilight. The insistent rhythm of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony appears repeatedly in the pianist’s left hand, the music pushed increasingly higher and higher as the tension builds. The inevitability of the dwarf’s actions – that he murders the queen and then slips into the sea to take his own life – is presented without further explanation. But Schubert’s almost operatic realisation of this strange tale draws us completely into Collin’s world. Poet, composer, singer, pianist and listener create a momentary universe in which this enigmatic scenario holds us rapt.
Helmine von Chézy, author of the play Rosamunde for which Schubert provided incidental music several years before composing this song.) But in Versunken, there is no need to keep desire secret: we are allowed to witness first-hand the intimate caresses of a couple in rapt absorption. The woman’s luxurious curls totally occupy our speaker as he runs his hands through it again and again – and those same curls also occupy the pianist, constantly tracing its twirling strands and the poet’s stroking fingers as he leaps around the keyboard! The joy and energy of Versunken is also present, albeit in a less obviously erotic scenario, in Seligkeit. The heaven promised here is not the result of good Christian behaviour, but the blissful smiles of a certain beautiful young girl named Laura. Schubert, with a twinkle in his eye, sets the whole as a gracefully sunny waltz.
much the idea of courageous overcoming tips us temporarily into gentler harmonies, it never remains there for long. The heartsore Erster Verlust evokes precisely the sense of tender Schubertian fragility that Harriet and Ian find so compelling: it is deeply intimate, and all the more anguished for the composer’s use of major harmonies in the midst of minor-key sorrow.
Of course, not all love leads to such tragic outcomes. Wiedersehn is a delightfully Italianate song (or perhaps more accurately, an aria in the Handelian manner) of love happily reciprocated; and the west wind of this song is matched by the deliciously perfumed east wind of Dass sie hier gewesen. Singer and pianist repeatedly lean on one note only to swoon and sigh down to the next, contemplating with total rapture that she has been here. Heimliches Lieben is a touchingly demure setting of a poem that speaks of desperate attempts to hide the hot desire of the protagonist. (The poet, Karoline von Klenke, was the mother of
Three songs remain to us in which the course of true love has not, alas, run smooth. The brook glistens in the sunlight in Der Jüngling an der Quelle as the young man tries, and fails, to distract himself from his heartbreak with the beauty of the natural world. (This was written some years before the rather more famous protagonist of Die schöne Müllerin sought out a similar watery confidante.) The broken heart is addressed directly in An mein Herz, and its painful beating shares something with the insistent Beethovenian rhythms of Der Zwerg. As the song progresses, it’s clear that the heart is unmoved by its owner’s entreaties: however
Last but not least comes a song that Harriet describes as being almost ‘un-Schubertian’ in its silliness (‘and we have,’ Ian confesses with a grin, ‘done a lot of silly things on stage!’). Die Männer sind mechant was written to commission in the summer of 1828, and most certainly borders on the risqué, at least for Biedermeier audiences. The hammy outrage of our speaker becomes more and more obvious as she reveals what she’s seen – and what she clearly wishes would now happen to her with the ‘rogue’ in question. It’s yet another piece of the puzzle, perhaps, in seeking out Schubert himself: a young man with tremendous empathy
It is precisely this balance of major and minor that is so beautifully captured in Lachen und Weinen – that love is the instigator of tears and smiles, laughter and tragedy. Yet this is no densely philosophical reflection, and as soon as the poet has described these lightning-quick emotional reversals, he throws his hands up in good-natured bafflement as the piano skips cheerfully to the end of the verse.
Texts and translations
Notes on the music and passion, but humour too. Ian hears, in so many of these songs, ‘youthfulness – young artists being creative together and exploring things’. And as Harriet observes, even at a distance of 200 years from their composition, ‘if you clear the varnish off the songs, there’s a direct relationship to modern experience. Well, that’s the beauty of Schubert, isn’t it?’
© 2024 Katy Hamilton Katy Hamilton is a writer and presenter on music, specialising in nineteenth-century Austro-German repertoire. She is much in demand as a speaker, appearing at concerts and festivals across the UK and on BBC Radio 3.
1 Die Liebe
Freudvoll Und leidvoll, Gedankenvoll sein; Langen Und bangen In schwebender Pein; Himmelhoch jauchzend Zum Tode betrübt; Glücklich allein Ist die Seele, die liebt.
Love Full of joy, And full of sorrow, Full of thoughts; Yearning And trembling In uncertain anguish; Exulting to heaven, Cast down unto death; Happy alone Is the soul that loves.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749–1832) 2 Lachen und Weinen Lachen und Weinen zu jeglicher Stunde Ruht bei der Lieb’ auf so mancherlei Grunde. Morgens lacht’ ich vor Lust; Und warum ich nun weine Bei des Abendes Scheine, Ist mir selb’ nicht bewusst.
Laughter and tears Laughter and tears at any hour Arise in love from many a cause. In the morning I laughed with joy; And why I now weep In the evening light, Is unknown even to me.
Weinen und Lachen zu jeglicher Stunde Ruht bei der Lieb’ auf so mancherlei Grunde. Abends weint’ ich vor Schmerz; Und warum du erwachen Kannst am Morgen mit Lachen, Muss ich dich fragen, o Herz.
Tears and laughter at any hour Arise in love from many a cause. In the evening I wept with grief; And why you can wake In the morning with laughter, I must ask you, my heart.
Friedrich Rückert (1788–1866)
Texts and translations Du sagtest mir es, Mutter: Er ist ein Springinsfeld! Ich würd’ es dir nicht glauben, Bis ich mich krank gequält! Ja, ja, nun ist er’s wirklich; Ich hatt’ ihn nur verkannt! Du sagtest mir’s, o Mutter: „Die Männer sind mechant!“
Men are rogues You told me, mother: He’s a rogue! I would not believe you, Till I was sick with torment! Yes, yes, he really is; I was quite mistaken! You told me so, mother: ‘Men are rogues!’
Vor’m Dorf im Busch, als gestern Die stille Dämm’rung sank, Da rauscht’ es: „Guten Abend!“ Da rauscht’ es: „Schönen Dank!“ Ich stand wie festgebannt: Er war’s mit einer Andern. – „Die Männer sind mechant!“
In the bushes near the village Last night as dusk fell silently, I heard a whispered ‘Good evening!’ I heard a whispered ‘Thank you so much!’ I crept up, I listened; I stood as if transfixed: There he was with another girl – ‘Men are rogues!’
O Mutter, welche Qualen! Es muss heraus, es muss! – Es blieb nicht bloss bei’m Gruß! Von Gruße kam’s zum Kusse, Vom Kuss zum Druck der Hand, Vom Druck, ach liebe Mutter! – „Die Männer sind mechant!“
O mother, what torture! I must speak out, I must! – It did not stop at greetings! It went from greetings to kissing, From kissing to holding hands, From holding hands – ah, dear mother! – ‘Men are rogues!’
3 Die Männer sind mechant
Johann Gabriel Seidl (1804–1875)
Dass der Ostwind Düfte Hauchet in die Lüfte, Dadurch tut er kund, Dass du hier gewesen.
That she was here By breathing fragrance Into the air, The East Wind makes known That you were here.
Dass hier Tränen rinnen, Dadurch wirst du innen,
Because tears fall here, You will know,
4 Dass sie hier gewesen
Wär’s dir sonst nicht kund, Dass ich hier gewesen.
Even if you were not told, That I was here.
Schönheit oder Liebe, Ob versteckt sie bliebe? Düfte tun es und Tränen kund, Dass sie hier gewesen.
Beauty or love, Can they remain concealed? Fragrance and tears Will make known That she was here.
Friedrich Rückert
Was bedeutet die Bewegung? Bringt der Ost mir frohe Kunde? Seiner Schwingen frische Regung Kühlt des Herzens tiefe Wunde.
Suleika I What does this stirring portend? Does the East Wind bring good tidings? The fresh motion of its wings Cools the deep wound in my heart.
Kosend spielt er mit dem Staube, Jagt ihn auf in leichten Wölkchen, Treibt zur sichern Rebenlaube Der Insekten frohes Völkchen.
Fondly it caresses the dust, Whipping it into puffs of cloud, Scurrying the happy insects To the vine-leaves’ safe retreat.
Lindert sanft der Sonne Glühen, Kühlt auch mir die heißen Wangen, Küsst die Reben noch im Fliehen, Die auf Feld und Hügel prangen.
It gently soothes the heat of the sun, And also cools my burning cheeks, Flitting by, it kisses the grapes That deck the hillsides and the fields.
Und mir bringt sein leises Flüstern Von dem Freunde tausend Grüße; Eh’ noch diese Hügel düstern, Grüßen mich wohl tausend Küsse.
And its soft murmur brings me A thousand greetings from my friend; Even before these hills darken, I’ll be greeted by a thousand kisses.
Und so kannst du weiter ziehen! Diene Freunden und Betrübten. Dort wo hohe Mauern glühen, Dort find ich bald den Vielgeliebten.
You may then go on your way! Serving friends and those afflicted. There, where lofty walls are glowing, I’ll soon find my dear beloved.
5 Suleika I
Texts and translations Ach, die wahre Herzenskunde, Liebeshauch, erfrischtes Leben Wird mir nur aus seinem Munde, Kann mir nur sein Atem geben.
Ah, the true message from his heart, The breath of love and life’s renewal, Will come to me only from his lips, Can be given me only by his breath.
Marianne Willemer (1784–1860), in collaboration with Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Der Frühlingssonne holdes Lächeln Ist meiner Hoffnung Morgenrot; Mir flüstert in des Westes Fächeln Der Freude leises Aufgebot. Ich komm’, und über Tal und Hügel, O süße Wonnegeberin, Schwebt auf des Liedes raschem Flügel, Der Gruß der Liebe zu dir hin.
Reunion The sweet smile of the spring sun Is the dawn of my hope; I hear joy’s softly whispered call In the stirring of the west wind. I come! and over hill and dale, Sweet bestower of delight, Love sails to greet you On the swift wings of song.
Du liebst mich, göttlich hohes Wesen! Du liebst mich, sanftes, zartes Weib! Es gnügt. Ich fühle mich genesen, Und Lebensfüll an Seel’ und Leib. Nein, noch mit dem Geschick zu hadern, Das schnell mich wieder von dir reißt, Verschmäht mein Blut, das durch die Adern Mit stolzen leichten Wellen kreis’t.
You love me, divine, noble creature! You love me, gentle, tender woman! Enough. I am made well again, And abundant life fills my soul and body. No, the blood which courses lightly and proudly Through my veins, disdains To struggle against the fate That rips me so swiftly from you again.
6 Wiedersehn
August von Schlegel (1767–1845) 7 Heimliches Lieben
O du, wenn deine Lippen mich berühren, Dann will die Lust die Seele mir entführen; Ich fühle tief ein namenloses Beben Den Busen heben.
Secret Love When your lips touch me, Desire all but bears away my soul; I feel a nameless trembling Deep within my breast.
Mein Auge flammt, Glut schwebt auf meinen Wangen; Es schlägt mein Herz ein unbekannt Verlangen; Mein Geist, verirrt in trunkner Lippen Stammeln, Kann kaum sich sammeln.
My eyes flame, a glow tinges my cheeks; My heart beats with a strange longing; My mind, lost in the stammering of my drunken lips, Can scarcely compose itself.
Mein Leben hängt in einer solchen Stunde An deinem süßen, rosenweichen Munde, Und will, bei deinem trauten Armumfassen, Mich fast verlassen.
At such a time my life hangs On your sweet lips, soft as roses, And, in your beloved embrace, Life almost deserts me.
O! dass es doch nicht außer sich kann fliehen, Die Seele ganz in deiner Seele glühen! Dass doch die Lippen, die voll Sehnsucht brennen, Sich müssen trennen!
Oh that my life cannot escape from itself, With my soul aflame in yours! Oh that lips ardent with longing Must part!
Dass doch im Kuss’ mein Wesen nicht zerfließet, Wenn es so fest an deinen Mund sich schließet, Und an dein Herz, das niemals laut darf wagen, Für mich zu schlagen.
Oh that my being may not dissolve in kisses When my lips are pressed so tightly to yours, And to your heart, which may never dare To beat aloud for me.
Karoline Louise von Klenke (1754–1802) 8 Versunken
Voll Locken kraus ein Haupt so rund! – Und darf ich dann in solchen reichen Haaren Mit vollen Händen hin und wieder fahren, Da fühl’ ich mich von Herzensgrund gesund. Und küss ich Stirne, Bogen, Auge, Mund, Dann bin ich frisch und immer wieder wund. Der fünfgezackte Kamm, wo sollt’ er stocken? Er kehrt schon wieder zu den Locken. Das Ohr versagt sich nicht dem Spiel, So zart zum Scherz, so liebeviel!
Immersed Such a round head, such a tangle of curls! – And when she lets me run her fingers To and fro in these thick locks I feel content to the depths of my heart. And when I kiss her brow, eyebrows, eyes, mouth, I’m repeatedly stricken afresh. Where shall this five-fingered comb stop? Already it returns to her hair. Her ear too joins in the game,
Texts and translations Doch wie man auf dem Köpfchen kraut, Man wird in solchen reichen Haaren Für ewig auf und nieder fahren.
So delicate for dalliance, so rich in love! But he who tousles this little head Will, in such abundant hair, Move his hands forever up and down.
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Ach, wer bringt die schönen Tage, Jene Tage der ersten Liebe, Ach, wer bringt nur eine Stunde Jener holden Zeit zurück!
First Loss Ah, who will bring the fair days back, Those days of first love, Ah, who will bring but one hour back Of that radiant time!
Einsam nähr’ ich meine Wunde, Und mit stets erneuter Klage Traur’ ich um’s verlorne Glück.
In my loneliness I feed my wound, And with ever renewed lament Mourn the happiness I lost.
Ach, wer bringt die schönen Tage, Jene holde Zeit zurück!
Ah, who will bring the fair days back, That radiant time!
9 Erster Verlust
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Schön wie Engel voll Walhallas Wonne, Schön vor allen Jünglingen war er, Himmlisch mild sein Blick, wie Maiensonne, Rückgestrahlt vom blauen Spiegelmeer.
Amalia Fair as angels filled with Valhalla’s bliss, He was fair above all other youths; His gaze was as gentle as heaven, as the May sun, Reflected in the blue mirror of the sea.
Seine Küsse – paradiesisch Fühlen! Wie zwei Flammen sich ergreifen, wie Harfentöne in einander spielen Zu der himmelvollen Harmonie –
His kisses – like paradise! As two flames engulfing each other, As the sound of harps mingling In celestial harmony –
Stürzten, flogen, schmolzen Geist in Geist zusammen, Lippen, Wangen brannten, zitterten,
Our spirits rushed, flew and fused together; Lips, cheeks burned and quivered,
10 Amalia
Seele rann in Seele – Erd’ und Himmel schwammen Wie zerronnen um die Liebenden! Er ist hin – vergebens, ach vergebens Stöhnet ihm der bange Seufzer nach! Er ist hin, und alle Lust des Lebens Rinnet hin in ein verlor’nes Ach!
Soul melted into soul – earth and heaven floated As though dissolved, around the lovers! He is gone – in vain, ah in vain My anxious sighs and groans pursue him! He is gone, and all life’s joy Ebbs away in a single forlorn lament!
Friedrich von Schiller (1759–1805)
O Liebe, die mein Herz erfüllet, Wie wonnevoll ist deine Seligkeit! Doch ach! wie grausam peinigend durchwühlet Mich Hoffnungslosigkeit.
Lambertine O love that fills my heart, How rapturous is your bliss! But ah, how cruelly, how painfully Am I consumed by despair.
Er liebt mich nicht, er liebt mich nicht, verloren Ist ohne ihn des Lebens süße Lust. Ich bin zu bittern Leiden nur geboren, Nur Schmerz drückt meine Brust.
He does not love me, he does not love me, Without him life’s sweet pleasure is lost. I am born for bitter suffering alone, Pain alone oppresses my heart.
Doch nein, ich will nicht länger trostlos klagen! Zu sehen ihn gönnt mir das Schicksal noch; Darf ich ihm auch nicht meine Liebe sagen, G’nügt mir sein Anblick doch.
But no, I shall no longer lament without solace! Fate still permits me to see him; Though I may not declare to him my love, I am content merely to gaze on him.
Sein Bild ist Trost in meinem stillen Kummer, Hier hab’ ich’s mir zur Wonne aufgestellt; Dies soll mich laben, bis dass ew’ger Schlummer Mein mattes Herz befällt.
His image provides comfort in my silent grief, I have placed it here to give me joy; This shall console me until eternal sleep Overcomes my weary heart.
11 Lambertine
Josef Ludwig Stoll (1778–1815)
Texts and translations Die Liebe hat gelogen, Die Sorge lastet schwer, Betrogen, ach, betrogen Hat alles mich umher!
Love has lied Love has lied, Sorrow oppresses me, I am betrayed, ah, betrayed By all around!
Es fließen heiße Tropfen Die Wange stets herab, Lass ab, mein Herz, zu klopfen, Du armes Herz, lass ab.
Hot tears keep flowing Down my cheeks, Beat no more, my heart, Wretched heart, beat no more.
12 Die Liebe hat gelogen
You may well shed a secret tear, But must complain no more.
Geh’n doch die ewigen Sterne Dort oben mit goldenem Licht Und lächeln so freundlich von ferne, Und denken doch unser nicht.
For the eternal stars above Move on in golden light And smile so friendly from afar, Though they do not think of us.
Ernst Schulze (1789–1817) 14 Der Jüngling an der Quelle
August von Platen (1796–1835)
O Herz, sei endlich stille! Was schlägst du so unruhvoll? Es ist ja des Himmels Wille, Dass ich sie lassen soll.
To my Heart O heart, be still at last! Why do you pound so restlessly? For it is the will of heaven That I should leave her.
Und gab auch dein junges Leben Dir nichts als Wahn und Pein; Hat’s ihr nur Freude gegeben, So mag’s verloren sein!
And though your young life Gave you naught but delusion and pain, As long as it gave her joy, Then no matter if it is lost!
Und wenn sie auch nie dein Lieben Und nie dein’ Lieb’ verstand, So bist du doch treu geblieben, Und Gott hat’s droben erkannt.
And though she never understood Your loving or your love, You nonetheless stayed faithful, And God above was your witness.
Wir wollen es mutig ertragen, So lang nur die Träne noch rinnt, Und träumen von schöneren Tagen, Die lange vorüber sind.
We shall endure it bravely, While our tears still flow, And dream of happier days That are long since past.
Und siehst du die Blüten erscheinen, Und singen die Vögel umher,
And if you see the flowers bloom And hear the birds sing all around,
13 An mein Herz
So magst du wohl heimlich weinen, Doch klagen sollst du nicht mehr.
Leise, rieselnder Quell, ihr wallenden, flispernden Pappeln, Euer Schlummergeräusch wecket die Liebe nur auf. Linderung sucht’ ich bei euch, und sie zu vergessen, die Spröde; Ach! und Blätter und Bach seufzen: Luise! dir nach.
Johann Gaudenz von Salis-Seewis (1762–1834)
The Youth by the Brook Softly rippling brook, waving, whispering poplars, Your sleepy murmurings awaken only love. I sought comfort by your side to forget the cold maiden; But alas, leaves and brook both sigh, Luise, for you.
Texts and translations
The Dwarf Im trüben Licht verschwinden schon die Berge, The mountains already fade in the gloom, Es schwebt das Schiff auf glatten Meereswogen, The ship drifts on the sea’s smooth swell, Worauf die Königin mit ihrem Zwerge. With the queen and her dwarf on board.
15 Der Zwerg
Sie schaut empor zum hochgewölbten Bogen, Hinauf zur lichtdurchwirkten blauen Ferne, Die mit der Milch des Himmels blass durchzogen.
She gazes up at the high arching vault, At the distant blue woven with light, Streaked by the pale Milky Way.
Ihr habt mir nie gelogen noch, ihr Sterne, ‘Never, stars, have you lied to me yet,’ So ruft sie aus, bald werd’ ich nun entschwinden, She cries, ‘Soon I shall be no more, Ihr sagt es mir, doch sterb’ ich wahrlich gerne. You tell me so, yet truly I shall gladly die.’ Da tritt der Zwerg zur Königin, mag binden Um ihren Hals die Schur von roter Seide, Und weint, als wollt er schnell vor Gram erblinden.
The dwarf steps up to the queen, Ties the red silk cord about her neck, And weeps, as though he’d go blind with grief.
Er spricht: Du selbst bist Schuld an diesem Leide, Weil um den König du mich hast verlassen, Jetzt weckt dein Sterben einzig mir noch Freude.
He speaks: ‘You yourself are to blame for this torment, Because you forsook me for the king, Your death alone can make me rejoice.
Zwar werd ich ewiglich mich selber hassen, Der dir mit dieser Hand den Tod gegeben, Doch musst zum frühen Grab du nun erblassen.
Though I shall always hate myself For killing you with this hand, You must now perish, go early to your grave.’
Sie legt die Hand auf’s Herz voll jungem Leben, Und aus dem Aug’ die schweren Tränen rinnen, Das sie zum Himmel betend will erheben.
She lays her hand on her young heart, And heavy tears stream from her eyes She now raises to heaven in prayer.
„Mögst du nicht Schmerz durch meinen Tod ‘May you suffer no anguish through my death!’ gewinnen!” She says; the dwarf then kisses her pale Sie sagt’s, da küsst der Zwerg die bleichen Wangen, cheeks, Drauf alsobald vergehen ihr die Sinnen. And forthwith her senses fail. Der Zwerg schaut an die Frau vom Tod befangen, Er senkt sie tief in’s Meer mit eignen Händen. Ihm brennt nach ihr das Herz so voll Verlangen. An keiner Küste wird er je mehr landen. Matthäus von Collin (1779–1824)
The dwarf looks down at his dying lady, Lowers her with his hands deep into the sea. His hearts burns for her with such desire. He will never more set foot on shore.
Lasst mich, ob ich auch still verglüh’, Lasst mich nur stille geh’n, Sie seh’ ich spät, sie seh’ ich früh’, Und ewig vor mir steh’n.
Hippolytus’s Song Let me be, though I silently waste away, Let me go quietly, I see her at dusk, I see her at dawn, Ever standing before me.
Was ladet ihr zur Ruh’ mich ein? Sie nahm die Ruh’ mir fort, Und wo sie ist, da muss ich sein, Hier sei es, oder dort.
Why do you invite me to find repose? She snatched repose away from me, And wherever she is, there must I be, Be it here or be it there.
Zürnt diesem armen Herzen nicht, Es hat nur einen Fehl, Treu muss es schlagen, bis es bricht, Und hat dess’ nimmer Hehl.
Be not angry with this poor heart, It only has one failing, It must faithfully beat until it breaks – Which it has never concealed.
Lasst mich, ich denke doch nur sie, In ihr nur denke ich; Ja, ohne sie wär’ ich einst nie Bei Engeln ewiglich.
Let me be, I think only of her, And think only in her; Without her, I should never hope To be one day with angels for evermore.
Im Leben denn und auch im Tod, Im Himmel, so wie hier, Im Glück und in der Trennung Not Gehör’ ich einzig ihr.
In life, then, and in death, In heaven and here on earth, In joy and in the grief of parting, I belong to her alone.
16 Hippolits Lied
Friedrich von Gerstenbergk (1778–1838) 17 Du liebst mich nicht
Mein Herz ist zerrissen, du liebst mich nicht! Du ließest mich’s wissen, du liebst mich nicht! Wiewohl ich dir flehend und werbend erschien, Und liebebeflissen, du liebst mich nicht! Du hast es gesprochen, mit Worten gesagt, Mit allzugewissen, du liebst mich nicht!
You do not love me My heart is broken, you do not love me! You let me know you do not love me! Though I wooed you and beseeched you With devotion, you do not love me! You told me so, you said it in words, All too clearly, you do not love me!
Texts and translations So soll ich die Sterne, so soll ich den Mond, Die Sonne vermissen? du liebst mich nicht! Was blüht mir die Rose? was blüht der Jasmin? Was blühn die Narzissen? du liebst mich nicht!
So must I forgo the stars, forgo the moon And the sun? You do not love me! Why does the rose bloom? Why the jasmine? Why the narcissus? You do not love me!
August von Platen
Schneeglöcklein, o Schneeglöcklein, In den Auen läutest du, Läutest in dem stillen Hain, Läute immer, läute zu, läute immer zu!
Violet Snowdrop, snowdrop, You ring through the meadows, You ring in the silent grove. Ring on, ring on for evermore!
Denn du kündest frohe Zeit, Frühling naht, der Bräutigam, Kommt mit Sieg vom Winterstreit, Dem er seine Eiswehr nahm.
For you herald a time of joy; Spring approaches, the bridegroom, Victorious from his struggle with winter, From whom he wrested his icy weapon.
Darum schwingt der goldne Stift, Dass dein Silberhelm erschallt, Und dein liebliches Gedüft Leis’ wie Schmeichelruf entwallt:
So your golden rod swings That your silver bell shall resound, And your sweet fragrance wafts gently away, Like an enticing call:
Dass die Blumen in der Erd, Steigen aus dem düstern Nest, Und des Bräutigams sich wert Schmücken zu dem Hochzeitsfest.
So that the flowers in the earth Rise from their gloomy nests, And to prove worthy of the bridgegroom Adorn themselves for the wedding feast.
Schneeglöcklein, o Schneeglöcklein, In den Auen läutest du, Läutest in dem stillen Hain, Läut’ die Blumen aus der Ruh’!
Snowdrop, snowdrop, You ring through the meadows, You ring in the silent grove, Ring the flowers from their sleep!
Du Viola, zartes Kind, Hörst zuerst den Wonnelaut, Und sie stehet auf geschwind, Schmücket sorglich sich als Braut,
Violet, tender child, Is the first to hear the joyful sound; She rises quickly, And adorns herself carefully as a bride.
18 Viola
Hüllet sich in’s grüne Kleid, Nimmt den Mantel sammetblau, Nimmt das güldene Geschmeid, Und den Brilliantentau.
She wraps herself in a green gown, Takes a velvety blue mantle, Her golden jewels And her dewy diamonds.
Eilt dann fort mit mächt’gem Schritt, Nur den Freund im treuen Sinn, Ganz von Liebesglück durchglüht, Sieht nicht her und sieht nicht hin.
Then she hastens forth with powerful gait, With thoughts only of her beloved in her faithful Heart, inflamed with ardent love, Looking neither this way nor that.
Doch ein ängstliches Gefühl Ihre kleine Brust durchwallt, Denn es ist noch rings so still, Und die Lüfte weh’n so kalt.
But a feeling of apprehension Troubles her tiny breast, For all around it is still so quiet, And the winds blow so cold.
Und sie hemmt den schnellen Lauf, Schon bestrahlt von Sonnenschein, Doch mit Schrecken blickt sie auf, Denn sie stehet ganz allein.
She checks her rapid course. Already the sun shines on her, But she looks up in terror, For she is quite alone.
Schwestern nicht, nicht Bräutigam Z u g e d r u n g e n! und v e r s c h m ä h t! Da durchschauert sie die Scham, Fliehet wie vom Sturm geweht,
No sisters! No bridegroom! She’s been too pressing! Has been rejected! Then she shudders with shame And flees, as if swept away by the storm.
Fliehet an den fernsten Ort, Wo sie Gras und Schatten deckt, Späht und lauschet immerfort, Ob was rauschet und sich regt.
She flees to the remotest spot, Where grass and shade conceal her; She constantly peers and listens To see if anything rustles or stirs.
Und gekränket und getäuscht Sitzet sie und schluchzt und weint, Von der tiefsten Angst zerfleischt, Ob kein Nahender erscheint.
Hurt and disappointed She sits sobbing and weeping, Tormented by the profound fear That no one will appear.
Schneeglöcklein, o Schneeglöcklein, In den Auen läutest du, Läutest in dem stillen Hain, Läut die Schwestern ihr herzu!
Snowdrop, snowdrop, You ring through the meadows, You ring in the silent grove; Call her sisters to her!
Texts and translations Rose nahet, Lilie schwankt, Tulp’ und Hyazinthe schwellt, Windling kommt daher gerankt, Und Narziss’ hat sich gesellt.
The rose approaches, the lily sways, the tulip and hyacinth swell; the bindweed trails along, and the narcissus joins them.
Da der Frühling nun erscheint, Und das frohe Fest beginnt, Sieht er alle, die vereint, Und vermisst sein liebstes Kind.
And now, as spring appears and the happy festival begins, he sees them all united, but misses his dearest child.
Alle schickt er suchend fort, Um die eine, die ihm wert, Und sie kommen an den Ort, Wo sie einsam sich verzehrt.
He sends them all off to search for the one he cherishes, and they come to the place where she languishes alone.
Doch es sitzt das liebe Kind Stumm und bleich, das Haupt gebückt, Ach! der Lieb’ und Sehnsucht Schmerz Hat die Zärtliche erdrückt.
But the sweet creature sits there dumb and pale, her head bowed; alas, the pain of love and longing has crushed the tender one.
Schneeglöcklein, o Schneeglöcklein, In den Auen läutest du, Läutest in dem stillen Hain, Läut Viola sanfte Ruh’!
Snowdrop, snowdrop, you ring through the meadows, you ring in the silent grove; ring for Violet’s sweet repose!
Franz von Schober (1796–1882) 19 Geheimnis (An Franz Schubert)
Sag’ an, wer lehrt dich Lieder, So schmeichelnd und so zart? Sie rufen einen Himmel Aus trüber Gegenwart. Erst lag das Land, verschleiert, Im Nebel vor uns da – Du singst – und Sonnen leuchten, Und Frühling ist uns nah.
A Secret (To Franz Schubert) Who teaches you, O say, to sing Such tender, honeyed songs? They conjure up a heaven Out of our troubled times. Before, the land lay veiled In mist before our eyes – You sing – and the sun appears And spring draws near.
Den schilfbekränzten Alten, Der seine Urne gießt, Erblickst du nicht, nur Wasser, Wie’s durch die Wiesen fließt. So geht es auch dem Sänger, Er singt, er staunt in sich; Was still ein Gott bereitet, Befremdet ihn, wie dich.
You have no eyes for the reed-crowned Ancient who empties his urn, Water flowing through the meadow Is all you see. Thus it is with the singer, He sings, he marvels inwardly; That which God quietly creates Astonishes both him and you.
Johann Mayrhofer (1787–1836)
Freuden sonder Zahl Blühn im Himmelssaal Engeln und Verklärten, Wie die Väter lehrten. O da möcht’ ich sein, Und mich ewig freun!
Bliss Joys without number Bloom in the halls of Heaven For angels and transfigured souls, As our fathers taught us. How I’d love to be there And rejoice eternally!
Jedem lächelt traut Eine Himmelsbraut; Harf’ und Psalter klinget, Und man tanzt und singet. O da möcht’ ich sein, Und mich ewig freun!
A heavenly bride smiles Sweetly on everyone; Harp and psaltery resound, And there’s dancing and singing. How I’d love to be there And rejoice eternally!
Lieber bleib’ ich hier, Lächelt Laura mir Einen Blick, der saget, Dass ich ausgeklaget. Selig dann mit ihr, Bleib’ ich ewig hier!
I’d sooner stay here If Laura smiles on me With a look that says I’ve to grieve no more. Blissfully then with her I’d stay forever here!
Ludwig Hölty (1748–1776)
Translations © Richard Stokes, author of The Book of Lieder (Faber, 2005) and The Complete Songs of Hugo Wolf (Faber, 2021)
20 Seligkeit
Biographies British soprano Harriet Burns is fast developing a reputation as a ‘polished, witty, expressive and sweet-toned’ (The Times) performer both in recital and on stage. An acclaimed interpreter of song, Harriet has performed at the Wigmore Hall, Philharmonie Luxembourg, Lammermuir, Oxford International Song and Leeds Lieder festivals, International Lied Festival Zeist, Ryedale Festival and de Singel with pianists including James Baillieu, Imogen Cooper, Christopher Glynn, Graham Johnson, Sholto Kynoch, Malcolm Martineau, Joseph Middleton, Michael Pandya and Ian Tindale. On the operatic stage, recent roles include King Harald’s Saga (Judith Weir) for Waterperry Opera, Sifare (cover, Mitridate re di Ponto, Mozart) Oriana (cover, Amadigi, Handel) for Garsington Opera, Sister Grace (The Angel Esmeralda, Lliam Paterson), Nerina (La Fedeltà premiata, Haydn), and Aminta (Aminta e Fillide, Handel) with Guildhall Opera. Harriet is a laureate of numerous international competitions. Successes include second prize and German Lied Award at 2022 Concours Musical International de Montréal (Art Song division), second prize at the Wigmore Hall/ Independent Opera International Song Competition, the Compulsory Song Prize and Recital Prize at the International Vocal Competition in ’s-Hertogenbosch and first prize at the Maureen Lehane Vocal Awards at the Wigmore Hall. Harriet was a member
of the Guildhall Opera School where she graduated with Distinction on the Artist Diploma programme. ‘A wonderfully responsive and assured pianist’ (Daily Telegraph), Ian Tindale is increasingly in demand as a specialist in song repertoire and chamber music. On the song platform he has partnered Ailish Tynan, James Gilchrist and Robin Tritschler, and his performances have taken him to Europe, North America and across the UK. Highlights in the 2023–4 season include recitals for BBC Radio 3 in the Hay Festival with Soraya Mafi and with Nick Pritchard at the Edinburgh International Festival. Ian has formed several fruitful collaborative partnerships in the last decade, most significantly with soprano Harriet Burns, with whom he has given acclaimed performances at the International Lied Festival Zeist, Oxford Lieder Festival, and at the Ryedale Festival. Ian is Artistic Director of Shipston Song, an annual song festival on the edge of the Cotswolds which he founded in 2022, and performers have included Roderick Williams, Helen Charlston, Jess Dandy, Julien van Mellaerts and Laurence Kilsby. Ian is a graduate of Selwyn College, Cambridge, and the Royal College of Music in London. In 2017 he was awarded the Pianist’s Prize in the Wigmore Hall/Kohn Foundation Song Competition. He is a Britten–Pears Young Artist and a Samling Artist.
Also available on Delphian Duet: Schumann – Mendelssohn – Cornelius Lucy Crowe soprano, William Berger baritone, Iain Burnside piano
Schubert Lieder: Nacht und Träume Ailish Tynan soprano, Iain Burnside piano DCD34165
DCD34167
This selection of songs could carry the subtitle ‘Women in Love’. ‘L’Education sentimentale’, perhaps. Ailish Tynan and Iain Burnside have assembled a portrait gallery: a whole bevy of Schubert’s women pursuing different sorts of love, nurturing different Biedermeier dreams. Goethe’s Gretchen finds an intriguing counterpart in Schiller’s Amalia. Ellen gazes out over Loch Katrine, while Serafina looks down affectionately at her fortepiano. A young nun welcomes her destiny as the bride of Christ. The first volume in Burnside’s carefully crafted voyage of Schubert song sees Ailish at the height of her powers, in music that has been her ‘life’s dream’ to record.
Duet singing reached its zenith in the Victorian age, and has since fallen out of fashion. Did artists become concerned with grander solo projects? Did audiences think duets too lowbrow? William Berger’s second Delphian song disc is a programme of duets with the delectably voiced Lucy Crowe that resoundingly demonstrates just how musically rich the genre can be. Published sets and individual songs by Mendelssohn, Schumann and the slightly younger Peter Cornelius span the middle decades of nineteenthcentury Germany, and also represent the literary life of the country in that period. Nestled at the end of the disc, ravishingly beautiful and sad, is Schumann’s memorial to his deceased young son.
‘a partnership of obvious subtlety and sophistication’ — Classical Ear, December 2015
‘In casting, revelatory programming and true vocal chamber musicmaking, this CD is a small miracle to be cherished’ — BBC Music Magazine, March 2016, CHORAL & SONG CHOICE
Der Wanderer: Schubert Lieder Roderick Williams, Iain Burnside DCD34170
PRESTO Recordings of the Year 2016 – Finalist
Following the critical acclaim for Iain Burnside’s partnership with soprano Ailish Tynan in Schubert songs on Delphian, this second volume sees Burnside partnered by another friend and long-term collaborator, baritone Roderick Williams, whose lovingly designed programme takes its tone from the strand of journeying and farewell that threads through Schubert’s song output. Burnside’s pianism is as masterful and vivid as ever, while the increasingly lauded Williams combines drama and intellect in equal measure. ‘exceptionally imaginative and satisfying’ — BBC Music Magazine, October 2016 WINNER CONCEPT ALBUM
PRESTO Recordings of the Year 2022 – Finalist
DCD34251