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The dark
night has
vanished
Edvard Grieg
Johannes Brahms
Josephine Lang
Robert Schumann
CATRIONA MORISON
Credits
Tracklist
Programme note
Sung texts
Biographies
The dark
night has
vanished
Edvard Grieg
Johannes Brahms
Josephine Lang
Robert Schumann
CATRIONA MORISON
MALCOLM MARTINEAU
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Recorded in Crear, Kilberry, UK, on 9–11 December 2019
Recording Producer & Engineer
Philip Hobbs Post-production Julia Thomas Design stoempstudio.com Cover Image Catriona Morison © Andrew Low
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63:13
The dark night has vanished
Edvard Grieg (1843–1907) Sechs Lieder, Op. 48 1 — Gruss 1:09
2 — Dereinst, Gedanke mein 2:33
3 — Lauf der Welt 1:44
4 — Die verschwiegene Nachtigall 3:18
5 — Zur Rosenzeit 3:07
6 — Ein Traum 2:13
Johannes Brahms (1833–1897)
7 — Dein blaues Auge, Op. 59 No. 8 2:12
8 — Immer leiser wird mein Schlummer, Op. 105 No. 2 3:16
9 — Mädchenlied, Op. 107 No. 5 1:47
10 — Sapphische Ode, Op. 94 No. 4 2:38
11 — Alte Liebe, Op. 72 No. 1 3:09
12 — Junge Lieder I: Meine Liebe ist grün, Op. 63 No. 5 1:37
CATRIONA MORISON
mezzo-soprano
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Josephine Lang (1815–1880) 13 — Scheideblick, Op. 10 No. 5 1:55
14 — Ob ich manchmal dein gedenke, Op. 27 No. 3 2:22
15 — Die Schwalben, Op. 10 No. 3 3:26
16 — Gestern und Heute 4:31
17 — Mignons Klage, Op. 10 No. 2 2:00
18 — Abschied, Op. 10 No. 6 2:22
Robert Schumann (1810–1856)
Sechs Gedichte von N. Lenau und Requiem, Op. 90
19 — Lied eines Schmiedes 1:20
20 — Meine Rose 3:27
21 — Kommen und Scheiden 1:22
22 — Die Sennin 1:51
23 — Einsamkeit 3:07
24 — Der schwere Abend 2:38
25 — Requiem 3:43
Heartfelt thanks to Harald Krebs and Sharon Krebs, who generously provided me with information on Josephine Lang as well as repertoire ideas after my initial discovery of the composer, and to Susan Youens for putting us in touch in the first place.
Catriona Morison
This recording is a co-production with BBC Radio 3. Catriona
Morison was a BBC New Generation Artist 2017–19
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The six of Josephine Lang’s approximately 300 songs presented here come from one of her most productive periods (1833–41). During the early 1830s, her creativity was fueled by the enthusiastic approbation of her revered mentor Felix Mendelssohn. During the years 1840–41, many of her finest songs were inspired by the burgeoning love between her and the law professor and poet Reinhold Köstlin.
The earliest song of the six, Gestern und heute (1833), is unpublished; it was edited from Lang’s autograph by Sharon and Harald Krebs. The poet was probably Fernanda Pappenheim, a member of a prominent family with which Lang was acquainted in Munich. Lang composed the song for Fernanda’s niece, Agnes von Calatin, an amateur singer. The music contains numerous expres-sive incursions of chromaticism; the eighteen-year-old composer already had a supreme command of advanced harmony!
The latest song in the group, Ob ich manchmal dein gedenke (Op. 27 No. 3; 1841), is one of the numerous songs that celebrate the love between Lang and Reinhold Köstlin; he wrote poems for her, and she set them to music – a creative dialogue unique in the history of the lied. The serenity and ardency of this particular song are surprising, given that it originated during a turbulent period in the relationship (Köstlin had temporarily abandoned Lang).
The remaining four songs come from her Op. 10, published in 1841 and dedicated to Agnes von Calatin. In Die Schwalben (1835), quirky dotted rhythms,
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grace notes and pauses evoke the unpredictable flight patterns of the titular swallows. The other three songs from this opus are linked by the more serious themes of separation or farewell (which frequently recur in Lang’s oeuvre). Her rendition of Goethe’s ‘Nur wer die Sehnsucht kennt’ (Mignons Klage, 1835) is more dramatic and agitated than those of the innumerable other composers who set it. The melody and harmony cover a lot of ground within a short time. The dynamics are equally volatile, moving, for instance, from piano to fortissimo within the first five bars. A striking passage near the end features impetuous, accented repetitions of a C major triad (the Neapolitan sixth).
Scheideblick (1840) sets a poem by Nikolaus Lenau. When Lang and
her friend Agnes performed a number of Lang’s songs for the poet in 1841, ‘Scheideblick’ elicited tears from him. The low register of both voice and piano gives the song a calm, subdued air, but continual subtle dissonance suggests the intense pain that throbs beneath the surface.
Abschied (1837) is one of Lang’s three settings of the poetry of Ernst
Schulze (he is more prominently represented in Franz Schubert’s oeuvre). The melody of this melancholy song of farewell, accompanied throughout by gentle waves of sixteenth-note motion, is beautifully sculpted; in the identical outer sections, each of the two long phrases begins with a reiterated A flat, which in the first phrase initiates a descending line, but in the second leads into higher regions and eventually a climax, before the melody again turns downward and comes to rest.
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The six songs by Johannes Brahms presented here date from the 1870s and 1880s, and are of a gravity and power to inspire awe. The minor poet Hermann Lingg’s vision in Immer leiser wird mein Schlummer of a dying woman who dreams that her lover will soon find someone else to kiss when she is dead and bids him ‘Come soon’ if he would see her alive one more time. We hear her desperate hope in the transformation of death-haunted C sharp minor into D flat major at the very end, while the insistent dotted rhythms in the piano are a Baroque touch, a slow, soft engine to keep life going. In Alte Liebe, a me- lancholy singer remembers past love; at the end, the ‘old dream’ envelopes him. Brahms, who loved Clara Schumann for much of his life, borrowed a melodic segment from his Capriccio in F sharp minor, Op. 76 No. 1, a present to her five years earlier, and asked his friend, the baritone Julius Stockhausen, to sing the new work to her, together with ‘Unüberwindlich’, Goethe’s poem about a man who tries to drown love’s sorrow in the bottle but cannot.
The ‘maiden’s song’ was a staple of late nineteenth-century German poetry, with Paul Heyse’s Gedichte including ten such poems. Brahms knew the words of his Mädchenlied, Op. 107 No. 5, from Schumann’s setting as his Op. 107 No. 4; this is a sequel, with both songs in the B minor of deep grief (Baroque tonal symbolism). The end of each verse is elided with an outburst of cataclysmic grief in the piano to heart-shattering effect. In the somewhat tortured analogy between roses scattering dew and kisses causing tears in
Sapphische Ode (the name refers to the poetic form of three lines with five feet,
a fourth line with two), the two stanzas are set to almost identical music, with multiple doublings and echo effects to tell of love reciprocated.
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Felix Schumann, the poet of Meine Liebe ist grün, was Brahms’s godson; dead of tuberculosis at 25, he turned to poetry when bad health made a musi-cal career impossible. In the letter accompanying his Christmas Eve gift of this song, Brahms told Clara that he had recalled her husband’s ‘Schöne Fremde’ (from Liederkreis, Op. 39) when he read Felix’s verses, and he quotes it at the beginning of his own masterpiece, in which youthful ardour comes to sound-ing life. Dein blaues Auge, to words by the Plattdeutsch poet Klaus Groth, is in the voice of a man on the rebound; burned by one pair of eyes whose rejec-tion still pains him, he gazes into the limpid, healing eyes of a new beloved. It is no wonder that Brahms’s persona makes us aware of darkness and ambi- valence even as he asserts newfound peace.
Edvard Grieg mostly set to music the poetry of his native Norway, but on occasion, he turned to German verse; as a teenager, he studied at the Leipzig Conservatory although he would later deny that it did him any good. Heinrich Heine’s poetry was an irresistible magnet for musical composition (8,000-plus works to his words), and his greeting to spring, ‘Leise zieht durch mein Gemüt’, was particularly popular. Grieg sets bells chiming in the piano through-out Gruss, the sound wafted upwards on gentle breezes in the piano. Emanuel Geibel’s translation of the sixteenth-century poet Cristóbal de Castillejo’s ‘Alguna vez’ as Dereinst, Gedanke mein in the Spanisches Liederbuch (1852) was set to music by many composers, including Schumann and Wolf; Grieg’s ver-sion is a poignant meditation accompanied by rich, slow-moving chords in the piano. Ludwig Uhland’s Lauf der Welt is a folk-like song in which words praise love that needs no words: kissing is sufficient unto the day. The rich harmony ‘when lips are pleased to rest on lips’ – a ‘home key’ chord for the lad’s mouth,
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a borrowed chord for the maiden’s mouth, the two alternating with one another in reciprocal pleasure – is a witty touch.
Die verschwiegene Nachtigall is the setting of a famous poem by the
thirteenth-century Minnesinger Walther von der Vogelweide, a song of ‘nîdere minne’, or ‘natural love’, not a tale of lords and ladies. Grieg’s beautifully blurry ‘Nature chord’ at the start and the piping calls of the nightingale are among the wonderful details of this song. One could hardly enlist the German poets for one’s work without calling upon Goethe, and Zur Rosenzeit is a dark, intense song of lost love. The explorer Friedrich von Bodenstedt provided the words for
Ein Traum, in which an arch-Teutonic fantasy of a blond maiden to love in the
springtime forest becomes reality and reality a dream.
The songs of Op. 90, all on themes of ending and valediction, come from late in Robert Schumann’s life as well – when he was only forty years old. Schumann had heard a false report of the Romantic poet Nikolaus Lenau’s death the preceding year in 1849 and composed these works as a memorial. When he sent the songs out for publication, he discovered that Lenau had in fact died on 22 August 1850. The strongly marked piano figures throughout Lied
eines Schmiedes mimic both a smith striking an anvil and the horse’s hooves
striking the pathway to heaven; with Schumann’s customary rhythmic sophisti-cation, even in a folk-like song, we cannot tell whether the singer enters on an upbeat or a downbeat. Meine Rose tells of a dying flower, plucked and wilting in the hot sun; the persona wishes he could revive it, but an aura of impossi-bility enshrouds the poem. The relationship between the piano’s right-hand melody and the singer’s line is a matter for marvel, and so too is the deflection
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to a warmer tonal realm for the acclamation ‘Rose of my heart!’ The wistful re- collection of bygone rendezvous and final parting from the beloved in Kommen
und Scheiden is both austere and radical, in typical late Schumann’s manner.
When the singer remembers the farewell, the key changes enharmonically from G flat to F sharp: he and love are the same and yet utterly different.
In Die Sennin, song itself is the symbol for transitory beauty,
remem-bered when all falls silent. Perhaps the most wrenching detail of this haunting song is that the piano’s music flows unstoppably through the hinge between the resounding beauty at the start and its transformation into memory in the last half. The solitary singer of Einsamkeit mourns lost love in a forlorn forest, but declares at the end that the spirit of love yet hears him and that God knows his love. Does he truly believe it? The ambivalent ending bespeaks doubt. Enharmonic transformation (yet again) demarcates the drear woods from the feeling heart. The end of love in Der schwere Abend seems like a funeral march in triple meter, juxtaposed with the singer’s occasional duple meter. We hear short-lived fury burst forth twice in the context of vast sorrow before synco-pated Death spreads its wings in the postlude. And finally, the Requiem, with its sweeping harp-like accompaniment and its gradually increasing pace en route to an ecstatic climax, is as close to aria as anything in Schumann’s songs. Schumann had long been captivated by the tale of Heloise and Abelard’s ill-fated love for one another, and this song purports to be Heloise’s elegy for her former lover.
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1—Gruss
Leise zieht durch mein Gemüt Liebliches Geläute.
Klinge, kleines Frühlingslied, Kling hinaus ins Weite. Zieh hinaus, bis an das Haus, Wo die Veilchen sprießen. Wenn du eine Rose schaust, Sag, ich lass’ sie grüßen. Heinrich Heine (1797–1856)
2 — Dereinst, Gedanke mein Dereinst,
Gedanke mein Wirst ruhig sein. Läßt Liebesglut
Dich still nicht werden: In kühler Erden
Da schläfst du gut; Dort ohne Liebe Und ohne Pein Wirst ruhig sein.
Lieder
Greeting
A sweet sound of bells Peals gently through my soul. Ring out, little song of spring, Ring out far and wide.
Ring out till you reach the house Where violets are blooming. And if you should see a rose, Send to her my greeting.
Translation © Richard Stokes, 2005
One day, my thoughts One day,
My thoughts, You shall be at rest. Though love’s ardour Gives you no peace, You shall sleep well In cool earth; There without love And without pain You shall be at rest.
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Was du im Leben Nicht hast gefunden, Wenn es entschwunden Wird’s dir gegeben. Dann ohne Wunden Und ohne Pein Wirst ruhig sein.
Cristóbal de Castillejo (c. 1491–1550) translated by Emanuel Geibel (1815–1884)
3 — Lauf der Welt
An jedem Abend geh’ ich aus, Hinauf den Wiesensteg.
Sie schaut aus ihrem Gartenhaus, Es stehet hart am Weg.
Wir haben uns noch nie bestellt, Es ist nur so der Lauf der Welt. Ich weiß nicht, wie es so geschah, Seit lange küss’ ich sie,
Ich bitte nicht, sie sagt nicht: ja! Doch sagt sie: nein! auch nie. Wenn Lippe gern auf Lippe ruht, Wir hindern’s nicht, uns dünkt es gut. Das Lüftchen mit der Rose spielt,
What you did not Find in life
Will be granted you When life is ended. Then, free from torment And free from pain, You shall be at rest.
Translation © Richard Stokes, 2005
The way of the world Every evening I go out, Up the meadow path.
She looks out from her summer house, Which stands close by the road. We’ve never planned a rendezvous, It’s just the way of the world. I don’t know how it came about, For a long time I’ve been kissing her, I don’t ask, she doesn’t say yes! But neither does she ever say no! When lips are pleased to rest on lips, We don’t prevent it, it just seems good. The little breeze plays with the rose,
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Das Röschen sich am Taue kühlt, Es sagt nicht lange: gib!
Ich liebe sie, sie liebet mich, Doch keines sagt: ich liebe dich! Johann Ludwig Uhland (1787–1862)
4 — Die verschwiegene Nachtigall Unter den Linden,
An der Haide,
Wo ich mit meinem Trauten saß, Da mögt ihr finden,
Wie wir beide
Die Blumen brachen und das Gras. Vor dem Wald mit süßem Schall, Tandaradei!
Sang im Tal die Nachtigall. Ich kam gegangen
Zu der Aue,
Mein Liebster kam vor mir dahin. Ich ward empfangen
Als hehre Fraue,
Daß ich noch immer selig bin. Ob er mir auch Küsse bot? Tandaradei!
Seht, wie ist mein Mund so rot!
The rose cools itself with dew, It doesn’t dream of saying: give! I love her, she loves me,
But neither says: I love you!
Translation © Richard Stokes, 2005
The secretive nightingale Under the lime trees
By the heath
Where I sat with my beloved, There you may find
How both of us
Crushed the flowers and grass.
Outside the wood, with a sweet sound, Tandaradei!
The nightingale sang in the valley. I came walking
To the meadow,
My beloved arrived before me. I was received
As a noble lady,
Which still fills me with bliss. Did he offer me kisses? Tandaradei!
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Wie ich da ruhte, Wüßt’ es einer,
Behüte Gott, ich schämte mich. Wie mich der Gute
Herzte, keiner
Erfahre das als er und ich – Und ein kleines Vögelein, Tandaradei!
Das wird wohl verschwiegen sein.
Walther von der Vogelweide (c. 1170–c. 1230)
5 — Zur Rosenzeit Ihr verblühet, süße Rosen, Meine Liebe trug euch nicht; Blühet, ach! dem Hoffnungslosen, Dem der Gram die Seele bricht! Jener Tage denk’ ich trauernd, Als ich, Engel, an dir hing, Auf das erste Knöspchen lauernd Früh zu meinem Garten ging; Alle Blüten, alle Früchte Noch zu deinen Füßen trug Und vor deinem Angesichte Hoffnung in dem Herzen schlug.
If anyone knew How I lay there,
God forbid, I’d be ashamed. How my darling hugged me, No one shall know
But he and I – And a little bird, Tandaradei!
Who certainly won’t say a word. Translation © Richard Stokes, 2005
Time of roses
You fade, sweet roses, My love did not wear you;
Ah! you bloom for one bereft of hope, Whose soul now breaks with grief! Sorrowfully I think of those days, When I, my angel, set my heart on you, And waiting for the first little bud, Went early to my garden;
Laid all the blossoms, all the fruits At your very feet,
With hope beating in my heart, When you looked on me.
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Ihr verblühet, süße Rosen, Meine Liebe trug euch nicht; Blühet, ach! dem Hoffnungslosen, Dem der Gram die Seele bricht!
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749–1832)
6 — Ein Traum
Mir träumte einst ein schöner Traum: Mich liebte eine blonde Maid; Es war am grünen Waldesraum, Es war zur warmen Frühlingszeit:
Die Knospe sprang, der Waldbach schwoll, Fern aus dem Dorfe scholl Geläut – Wir waren ganzer Wonne voll, Versunken ganz in Seligkeit.
Und schöner noch als einst der Traum Begab es sich in Wirklichkeit – Es war am grünen Waldesraum, Es war zur warmen Frühlingszeit:
Der Waldbach schwoll, die Knospe sprang, Geläut erscholl vom Dorfe her –
Ich hielt dich fest, ich hielt dich lang Und lasse dich nun nimmermehr!
You fade, sweet roses, My love did not wear you;
Ah! you bloom for one bereft of hope, Whose soul now breaks with grief! Translation © Richard Stokes, 2005
A dream
I once dreamed a beautiful dream: A blonde maiden loved me,
It was in the green woodland glade, It was in the warm springtime:
The buds bloomed, the forest stream swelled, From the distant village came the sound of bells – We were so full of bliss,
So lost in happiness.
And more beautiful yet than the dream, It happened in reality,
It was in the green woodland glade, It was in the warm springtime:
The forest stream swelled, the buds bloomed, From the village came the sound of bells – I held you fast, I held you long,
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O frühlingsgrüner Waldesraum! Du lebst in mir durch alle Zeit – Dort ward die Wirklichkeit zum Traum, Dort ward der Traum zur Wirklichkeit! Friedrich Martin von Bodenstedt (1819–1892)
7 — Dein blaues Auge Dein blaues Auge hält so still, Ich blicke bis zum Grund.
Du fragst mich, was ich sehen will? Ich sehe mich gesund.
Es brannte mich ein glühend Paar, Noch schmerzt das Nachgefühl: Das deine ist wie See so klar Und wie ein See so kühl. Klaus Groth (1819–1899)
8 — Immer leiser wird mein Schlummer Immer leiser wird mein Schlummer,
Nur wie Schleier liegt mein Kummer Zitternd über mir.
Oft im Traume hör’ ich dich
O woodland glade so green with spring! You shall live in me for evermore – There reality became a dream, There dream became reality!
Translation © Richard Stokes, 2005
Your blue eyes
Your blue eyes stay so still, I look into their depths.
You ask me what I seek to see? Myself restored to health.
A pair of ardent eyes have burnt me, The pain of it still throbs:
Your eyes are limpid as a lake, And like a lake as cool.
Translation © Richard Stokes, 2005
My sleep grows ever quieter My sleep grows ever quieter, Only my grief, like a veil, Lies trembling over me. I often hear you in my dreams
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Rufen drauß vor meiner Tür: Niemand wacht und öffnet dir, Ich erwach’ und weine bitterlich. Ja, ich werde sterben müssen, Eine Andre wirst du küssen, Wenn ich bleich und kalt. Eh’ die Maienlüfte wehn, Eh’ die Drossel singt im Wald: Willst du mich noch einmal sehn, Komm, o komme bald!
Hermann Lingg (1820–1905)
9 — Mädchenlied
Auf die Nacht in der Spinnstub’n, Da singen die Mädchen,
Da lachen die Dorfbub’n, Wie flink gehn die Rädchen! Spinnt Jedes am Brautschatz, Dass der Liebste sich freut. Nicht lange, so gibt es Ein Hochzeitgeläut.
Calling outside my door,
No one keeps watch and lets you in, I awake and weep bitterly.
Yes, I shall have to die, You will kiss another When I am pale and cold. Before May breezes blow,
Before the thrush sings in the wood; If you would see me once again, Come soon, come soon!
Translation © Richard Stokes, 2005
A young girl’s song
At night in the spinning-room, The girls are singing,
The village lads are laughing, How swiftly the wheels go round! Each girl spins for her trousseau To please her lover.
It won’t be long
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Kein Mensch, der mir gut ist, Will nach mir fragen;
Wie bang mir zumut ist, Wem soll ich’s klagen? Die Tränen rinnen Mir übers Gesicht – Wofür soll ich spinnen? Ich weiss es nicht! Paul Heyse (1830–1914)
10 — Sapphische Ode
Rosen brach ich nachts mir am dunklen Hage, Süßer hauchten Duft sie, als je am Tage; Doch verstreuten reich die bewegten Äste Tau, der mich näßte.
Auch der Küsse Duft mich wie nie berückte, Die ich nachts vom Strauch deiner Lippen pflückte; Doch auch dir, bewegt im Gemüt gleich jenen, Tauten die Tränen.
Hans Schmidt (1856–1923)
No man who cares for me Will ask after me;
How anxious I feel,
To whom shall I tell my sorrow? The tears go coursing
Down my cheeks – What am I spinning for? I don’t know!
Translation © Richard Stokes, 2005
Sapphische Ode
I gathered roses from the dark hedge by night,
The fragrance they breathed was sweeter than by day; But when I moved the branches, they showered
Me with dew.
And the fragrant kisses thrilled me as never before, When I gathered them from your lips by night; But you too, moved in your heart like those roses, Shed the dew of tears.
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11 — Alte Liebe
Es kehrt die dunkle Schwalbe Aus fernem Land zurück, Die frommen Störche kehren Und bringen neues Glück. An diesem Frühlingsmorgen, So trüb verhängt und warm, Ist mir, als fänd ich wieder Den alten Liebesharm. Es ist, als ob mich leise Wer auf die Schulter schlug, Als ob ich säuseln hörte, Wie einer Taube Flug. Es klopft an meine Türe, Und ist doch niemand draus; Ich atme Jasmindüfte, Und habe keinen Strauß. Es ruft mir aus der Ferne, Ein Auge sieht mich an, Ein alter Traum erfaßt mich Und führt mich seine Bahn. Karl August Candidus (1817–1872)
Old love
The dark swallow returns From a distant land, The pious storks return And bring new happiness. On this spring morning, So bleakly veiled and warm, I seem to rediscover
Love’s grief of old. It is as if someone
Tapped me on the shoulder, As if I heard a whirring, Like a dove in flight. There’s a knock at my door, Yet no one stands outside; I breathe the scent of jasmine, Yet have no bouquet.
Someone calls me from afar, Eyes are watching me,
An old dream takes hold of me And leads me on its path.
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12 — Junge Lieder I: Meine Liebe ist grün Meine Liebe ist grün wie der Fliederbusch Und mein Lieb ist schön wie die Sonne; Die glänzt wohl herab auf den Fliederbusch Und füllt ihn mit Duft und mit Wonne. Meine Seele hat Schwingen der Nachtigall Und wiegt sich in blühendem Flieder,
Und jauchzet und singet vom Duft berauscht Viel liebestrunkene Lieder.
Felix Schumann (1854–1879)
13 — Scheideblick
Als ein unergründlich Wonnemeer Strahlte mir dein seelenvoller Blick! Scheiden mußt’ ich ohne Wiederkehr, Und ich habe scheidend all’ mein Glück Still versenkt in dieses tiefe Meer. Nikolaus Lenau (1802–1850)
pseudonym of Nikolaus Franz Niembsch, Edler von Strehlenau
Songs of Youth I: My love’s as green My love’s as green as the lilac bush, And my sweetheart’s as fair as the sun; The sun shines down on the lilac bush, Fills it with delight and fragrance. My soul has a nightingale’s wings And sways in the blossoming lilac,
And, drunk with fragrance, exults and sings Many a love-drunk song.
Translation © Richard Stokes, 2005
Glance at parting
Like an unfathomable ocean of joy Your soulful gaze shone for me!
I had to take leave, knowing I would never return, And as I departed, I quietly sank
All my happiness into this deep ocean. Translation © Sharon Krebs, 2006
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14 — Ob ich manchmal dein gedenke? Ob ich manchmal dein gedenke?
Wüßtest Du, wie sehr ich’s thu’, Dir auch noch die Schatten lenken Träumender Gedanken zu!
Tag und Nacht, und alle Stunden, – O dies Alles sagt es nicht;
Du, seitdem wir uns gefunden, Bist’s allein, was aus mir spricht. Alles Andre seh’ ich schwanken Um mich her wie Traum und Schein. Dein gedenken ist mein Leben, Dich zu lieben ist mein Sein. Christian Reinhold (1813–1856)
15 — Die Schwalben
Der Schnee ist dahin, ist verschwommen, In’s grosse gewaltige Meer.
Die Schwalben sind wieder gekommen, Sie kamen, ich weiss nicht woher. Ich weiss nur, sie fanden sich wieder, Weil Liebe von Liebe nicht lässt,
Do I sometimes think of you? Do I sometimes think of you? If you only knew how much!
Draw unto yourself even the shadows Of my dreaming thoughts!
Day and night, and at all hours, Oh all those words do not express it; You alone, since we found each other, Are the substance of my utterances. I see everything else tottering About me like dreams and illusions! To think of you is my very life! To love you is my existence. Translation © Sharon Krebs & Harald Krebs, 2006
The swallows
The snow is gone, has flowed away Into the great, vast ocean.
The swallows have returned,
They came back, I know not whence.
I only know that they found each other again, Because love does not abandon love,
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Und lassen sich häuslich hier nieder, Denn Liebe baut Liebe das Nest. Oft, wenn sie von dannen geflogen, Und nahte die Blumenzeit sich, So kamen sie wieder gezogen‚ Sie kamen, was kümmert es mich? Am liebsten noch sah ich sie scheiden, Weit hin in das wärmere Land,
Ich konnt’ ihr Geschwätze nicht leiden, Wovon ich noch gar nichts verstand. Christoph August Tiedge (1752–1841)
16 — Gestern und Heute
Die dunkle Nacht ist nun entschwunden, Ein trüber Morgen bricht hervor.
Er hat sich mühevoll entwunden Der grauen Wolken dichtem Flor. Es schimmert matt sein düstres Licht. Es leuchtet, doch erwärmet nicht. Auch du, mein Herz, erwachtest wieder; Der Traum entfloh, der dich umgab. Doch trauernd tönen deine Lieder, Als sängen sie dein Glück zu Grab.
And they are setting up house here, For love builds a nest for love. Often when they had flown away, And the time of flowers approached, Then they came flying back again; They came, what concern was it of mine? I was happiest when I saw them leave For a warmer clime far away.
I could not stand their chatter, Of which I as yet understood nothing. Translation © Sharon Krebs, 2006
Yesterday and today
The dark night has now vanished, A dreary morning breaks forth. It has laboriously disentangled itself From the dense grey cloud cover. Its drab light shimmers palely. It shines, but it does not warm. You, too, my heart awoke again;
The dream that surrounded you vanished. Yet sadly do your songs sound,
M E N U
Ich kenn sie wohl an ihrem Klang, Doch fehlt der Geist, der sonst sie sang. Wie war denn alles so verschieden Eh’ gestern schied der Sonne Licht. Nahm sie mir meinen stillen Frieden, Wie, oder war’s die Sonne nicht? O kehre heim, entfloh’nes Glück! Du, die mir’s raubte, kehr zurück! Fernanda Pappenheim
17 — Mignons Klage Nur wer die Sehnsucht kennt Weiss, was ich leide!
Allein und abgetrennt Von aller Freude Seh ich an’s Firmament Nach jeder Seite.
Ach, der mich liebt und kennt, Ist in der Weite.
Es schwindelt mir, es brennt Mein Eingeweide.
Nur wer die Sehnsucht kennt Weiss, was ich leide!
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
I know them well by their tones,
But the spirit that usually sang them is not here. How different everything was
Before the sun’s light departed yesterday. Did the sun take my quiet peace,
How? Or was it not the sun? Return home, vanished happiness! You, who robbed me of it, come back. Translation © Sharon Krebs, 2018
Only those who know longing Only those who know longing Know what I suffer!
Alone and cut off From every joy, I search the sky In that direction.
Ah! he who loves and knows me Is far away.
My head reels, My body blazes.
Only those who know longing Know what I suffer!
M E N U
18 — Abschied
Ich liebte dich, und ach, ich muß entsagen! Nicht zürn’ ich dir, ich zürne dem Geschick. Wirst du mich je um meiner Thränen fragen, So gieb nur selbst die Antwort dir zurück! Ich liebte dich, ich will es nicht verhehlen, War auch nur Schmerz der langen Sehnsucht Ziel; Ist Liebe nicht ein Antheil schöner Seelen, Und lohnet nicht Gefühl sich durch Gefühl? Ich liebe dich, und kann dich nicht vergessen; Doch schweigen will ich mit verhaltnem Schmerz, Will allen Gram in eine Thräne pressen, In einen Seufzer mein zerdrücktes Herz. Ernst Konrad Friedrich Schulze (1789–1817)
19 — Lied eines Schmiedes Fein Rösslein, ich
Beschlage dich, Sei frisch und fromm, Und wieder komm!
Farewell
I loved you, and ah, I must renounce you! I do not rage at you, I rage at fate. If you shall ever ask me about my tears, You may just give yourself the answer back. I loved you, I do not wish to conceal it, Even if pain was the only end of the long yearning. Is love not the lot of beautiful souls,
And is feeling not rewarded with feeling? I love you, and I cannot forget you;
Yet I shall remain silent with restrained pain, I shall press all my grief into a single tear, Into a single sigh my crushed heart. Translation © Sharon Krebs, 2006
Blacksmith’s song Fine little steed, You’ll soon be shod, Be frisky and good, And come back again!
M E N U
Trag deinen Herrn Stets treu dem Stern, Der seiner Bahn Hell glänzt voran! Trag auf dem Ritt Mit jedem Tritt Den Reiter du Dem Himmel zu! Nun Rösslein, ich Beschlage dich, Sei frisch und fromm, Und wieder komm! Nikolaus Lenau
20 — Meine Rose
Dem holden Lenzgeschmeide, Der Rose, meiner Freude, Die schon gebeugt und blasser Vom heissen Strahl der Sonnen, Reich ich den Becher Wasser Aus dunklem, tiefen Bronnen. Du Rose meines Herzens!
Vom stillen Strahl des Schmerzens
Carry your master Ever true to the star That shines brightly On his path!
With each step As you go, Carry your rider Nearer heaven! There, little steed, Now you’re shod, Be frisky and good, And come back again!
Translation © Richard Stokes, 2005
My rose
To spring’s fair jewel, To the rose, my delight, Already drooping and pale From the heat of the sun, I bring a beaker of water From the deep, dark well. Rose of my heart!
M E N U
Bist du gebeugt und blasser; Ich möchte dir zu Füssen, Wie dieser Blume Wasser, Still meine Seele giessen! Könnt ich dann auch nicht sehen Dich freudig auferstehen. Nikolaus Lenau
21 — Kommen und Scheiden
So oft sie kam, erschien mir die Gestalt So lieblich wie das erste Grün im Wald. Und was sie sprach, drang mir zum Herzen ein Süss wie des Frühlings erstes Lied.
Und als Lebwohl sie winkte mit der Hand, War’s, ob der letzte Jugendtraum mir schwand. Nikolaus Lenau
From the silent shaft of pain; I would silently pour out My soul at your feet,
As I pour water for this flower! Even though I might not then See you happily revive.
Translation © Richard Stokes, 2005
Meeting and parting
Each time we met, the sight of her
Seemed as dear as the first green in the wood. And what she said, pierced my heart
As sweetly as the spring’s first song. And when she waved to me in parting, Youth’s last dream seemed to vanish. Translation © Richard Stokes, 2005
M E N U
22 — Die Sennin
Schöne Sennin, noch einmal Singe deinen Ruf ins Tal, Dass die frohe Felsensprache Deinem hellen Ruf erwache. Horch, o Sennin, wie dein Sang In die Brust den Bergen drang, Wie dein Wort die Felsenseelen Freudig fort und fort erzählen! Aber einst, wie Alles flieht, Scheidest du mit deinem Lied, Wenn dich Liebe fortbewogen, Oder dich der Tod entzogen. Und verlassen werden stehn, Traurig stumm herübersehn Dort die grauen Felsenzinnen Und auf deine Lieder sinnen. Nikolaus Lenau
23 — Einsamkeit
Wild verwachs’ne dunkle Fichten, Leise klagt die Quelle fort;
The cowgirl
Lovely cowgirl, sing once more Your song into the valley,
That the cliffs wake with joyful speech At your clear summons.
Listen, girl, how your song
Has pierced the heart of the mountains, How the souls of the crags joyfully Keep echoing your words!
But all things pass, and one day You will depart with your song, When love has drawn you away Or death has claimed you. And the towering grey crags Will then stand deserted, Sadly looking down in silence, Remembering your songs.
Translation © Richard Stokes, 2005
Solitude
A wild tangle of dark spruce,
M E N U
Herz, das ist der rechte Ort Für dein schmerzliches Verzichten! Grauer Vogel in den Zweigen, Einsam deine Klage singt, Und auf deine Frage bringt
Antwort nicht des Waldes Schweigen. Wenn’s auch immer Schweigen bliebe, Klage, klage fort; es weht,
Der dich höret und versteht, Stille hier der Geist der Liebe. Nicht verloren hier im Moose, Herz, dein heimlich Weinen geht, Deine Liebe Gott versteht, Deine tiefe, hoffnungslose! Nikolaus Lenau
24 — Der schwere Abend Die dunklen Wolken hingen Herab so bang und schwer, Wir beide traurig gingen Im Garten hin und her.
Heart, this is a fitting place For your painful renunciation! A grey bird alone in the branhes Sings of your sorrow,
And to your questioning
The silent forest brings no reply. Even if silence reigned forever, Continue, continue your lament; The spring of love blows silently here, It hears and understands you. Heart, your secret weeping Is not lost here amongst the moss. God understands your love, Your deep and hopeless love! Translation © Richard Stokes, 2005
The oppressive evening The dark clouds hung So anxiously heavy,
We both walked up and down Sadly in the garden.
M E N U
So heiss und stumm, so trübe Und sternlos war die Nacht, So ganz wie unsre Liebe Zu Tränen nur gemacht. Und als ich musste scheiden, Und gute Nacht dir bot,
Wünscht ich bekümmert beiden Im Herzen uns den Tod.
Nikolaus Lenau
25 — Requiem
Ruh von schmerzensreichen Mühen Aus und heissem Liebesglühen; Der nach seligem Verein Trug Verlangen,
Ist gegangen
Zu des Heilands Wohnung ein. Dem Gerechten leuchten helle Sterne in des Grabes Zelle,
Ihm, der selbst als Stern der Nacht Wird erscheinen,
Wenn er seinen
Herrn erschaut in Himmelspracht.
The night was so sultry and silent, So gloomy and starless,
Just like our love, Fit only for tears. And when I had to leave And bade you good night, I wished us both dead In the anguish of my heart.
Translation © Richard Stokes, 2005
Requiem
Rest from pain-wracked toil And love’s passionate ardour; He who desired
Blessed reunion in Heaven Has entered
The Saviour’s dwelling. For the righteous, bright stars Shine within the tomb, For him, who will himself Appear as a night star, When he beholds his Lord In Heavenly glory.
M E N U
Seid Fürsprecher, heilge Seelen! Heilger Geist, lass Trost nicht fehlen. Hörst du? Jubelsang erklingt, Feiertöne,
Darein die schöne Engelsharfe singt.
Ruh von schmerzensreichen Mühen Aus und heissem Liebesglühen; Der nach seligem Verein Trug Verlangen,
Ist gegangen
Zu des Heilands Wohnung ein. attributed to
Héloïse d’Argenteuil (1101?–1164), German translation by
Leberecht Blücher Dreves (1816–1870)
Intercede for him, holy souls,
Holy spirit, let comfort be not lacking. Do you hear? Songs of joy resound, Solemn tones,
Among them the lovely song Of the angels’ harp:
Rest from pain-wracked toil And love’s passionate ardour; He who desired
Blessed reunion in Heaven Has entered
The Saviour’s dwelling.
M E N U
The Scottish-German mezzo-soprano Catriona Morison won the Main Prize and shared the Song Prize at the internationally renowned BBC Cardiff Singer of the World competition in 2017. As a member of the ensemble of Oper Wuppertal for two seasons (2016–2018), she sang the roles of Nicklausse (Les contes d’Hoff-mann), Charlotte (Werther), Hänsel (Hänsel und Gretel), Maddalena (Rigoletto), Princesse Clarice (L’amour des trois oranges) and Cherubino (Le nozze di Figaro), amongst others.
Guest operatic engagements have taken Morison to the Edinburgh International Festival, Oper Köln, Bergen Nasjonale Opera and the Deutsches Nationaltheater in Weimar. In 2015 she made her debut at the Salzburger Festspiele under Franz Welser-Möst as a member of the Young Singers Project.
A passionate concert singer, Morison made her debut at the BBC Proms in 2019, performing Elgar’s Sea Pictures with the BBC National Orchestra of Wales and Elim Chan. She sang the world premiere of Errollyn Wallen’s This Frame is Part of the Painting, a work commissioned especially for her, also at the 2019 BBC Proms. She has numerous oratorio works in her repertoire, ranging from Bach to contemporary composers. Highlights include a tour with Teodor Currentzis and MusicAeterna of Mozart’s Requiem, Bach’s Matthäus-passion with the MDR-Sinfonieorchester and Duruflé’s Requiem with the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra under Sir Andrew Davis.
Catriona Morison
M E N U
Song repertoire is of particular importance for Morison. She has given reci- tals at venues and festivals including the Wigmore Hall, Edinburgh International Festival, Leeds Lieder and Weimarer Meisterkurs.
Morison is a recent BBC New Generation Artist and was awarded an honorary professorship at the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland (RCS) in 2017. In 2013 she was an Independent Opera award winner, became a Samling Artist in the same year, and won the Toonkunst Oratorio Prize at the 2014 International Vocal Competition ’s-Hertogenbosch. She studied at the RCS, predominantly with Clare Shearer, and in Germany at the Universität der Künste Berlin with Prof. Julie Kaufmann, as well as at the University of Music Franz Liszt Weimar under the tutelage of Prof. Siegfried Gohritz.
www.catrionamorison.com © A nd re w Lo w
M E N U
Malcolm Martineau was born in Edinburgh, read Music at St Catharine’s College, Cambridge, and studied at the Royal College of Music, London.
Recognized as one of the leading accompanists of his generation, he has worked with many of the world’s greatest singers including Sir Thomas Allen, Dame Janet Baker, Olaf Bär, Anna Netrebko, Elīna Garanča, Dorothea Röschmann, Dame Sarah Connolly, Angela Gheorghiu, Susan Graham, Thomas Hampson, Della Jones, Sir Simon Keenlyside, Angelika Kirchschlager, Dame Felicity Lott, Christopher Maltman, Karita Mattila, Dame Ann Murray, Anne Sofie von Otter, Joan Rodgers, Michael Schade, Frederica von Stade, Sarah Walker and Sir Bryn Terfel.
Martineau has presented his own series at the Wigmore Hall and the Edinburgh International Festival. He has appeared throughout Europe including London’s Wigmore Hall and Barbican; La Scala, Milan; The Châtelet, Paris; Gran Teatre del Liceu, Barcelona; Berlin’s Philharmonie and Konzerthaus; Amsterdam’s Concertgebouw and Vienna’s Konzerthaus and Musikverein; North America including both New York’s Alice Tully Hall and Carnegie Hall; Australia inclu- ding the Sydney Opera House; and at the Aix-en-Provence, Vienna, Schubertiade, Munich and Salzburg Festivals.
Malcolm Martineau
M E N U
Recording projects have included the complete Beethoven folk songs and Schubert, Schumann and English song recitals with Sir Bryn Terfel; Schubert and Strauss recitals with Sir Simon Keenlyside plus the Grammy Award-winning Songs of War; recital recordings with Angela Gheorghiu, Barbara Bonney, Magdalena Kožená, Della Jones, Susan Bullock, Solveig Kringelborn, Anne Schwanewilms, Dorothea Röschmann and Christiane Karg; the complete Fauré songs with Sarah Walker and Tom Krause; the complete Britten folk songs; the complete Poulenc songs and Britten song cycles as well as Schubert with Florian Boesch, Reger with Sophie Bevan and the complete Mendelssohn songs.
Martineau was given an honorary doctorate at the Royal Conservatoire of Scotland in 2004, and appointed International Fellow of Accompaniment in 2009. He was the Artistic Director of the 2011 Leeds Lieder Festival. He was made an OBE in the 2016 New Year’s Honours.
© E li se nd a C an al s
M E N U
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