“Orchestral song” are two words than seem to go together well, but at second thought one begins to wonder if an essentially “intimate” genre such as the “art song”, especially in its German Romantic variety (what we call Lieder in every language) can really glow amidst the formidable splendour of the orchestral sound. Composers like R. Strauss have indeed written Lieder meant to be accompanied by the orchestra and also other Lieder with piano, but let’s not jump to conclusions here. He himself would make orchestral versions of some of the piano items without any change to the vocal line. Furthermore, many a critic has considered his songs operatic in style and distant from the miniaturistic interpretation style one usually expects from someone who sings, say, Schubert.
This is why I have always had some trouble with orchestral adaptations of Schubert songs. To be honest, I’d rather pass a concert with such a program, but Regula Mühlemann and the Festival Strings Lucerne encouraged me to give them a try by offering R. Strauss’s Lieder, which are always fun, regardless if you think them too operatic or not. Last time I heard orchestral versions of Schubert songs, Claudio Abbado was conducting the Berlin Philharmonic and Christiane Stotijn was the soloist. In other words, we had a mezzo soprano. Even when writing for a high voice, Schubert tended — in order to help textual clarity — to keep the tessitura central. With a piano accompaniment, a tenor or a soprano can keep a conversational tone even if the piano sounds too full or loud. That’s not the case with an orchestra, and this is why I found it curious that a singer those voice is on the light and high side would choose them, even with a small orchestra as this evening.
To be honest, I would say that Ms. Mühlemann generally could make something out of this relative handicap, the problem lying rather in the program itself. For instance, although R. Strauss is one of the greatest composers for the orchestra of all times, his version of Schubert’s Ganymed is surprisingly square. almost predictable in its pointless adherence to the pianístic writing. As a result, Ms. Mühlemann sounded rather coy in her attempt of keeping the text clear in an uncongenial area of her range, the sensuality suggested by poet’s verses entirely lost. On the other hand, Nacht und Träume is an ideal candidate for orchestral transposition with a piano part obviously emulating the sound of a string orchestra. In his adaptation, Max Reger wisely limits himself to only responding to that, and Ms. Mühlemann sang it spontaneously in seamless legato. Felix Mottl’s orchestration for the famous Ständchen couldn’t help doing with lots of pizzicato and yet the song seems fake in its orchestral hall atmosphere. I mean, no one would take a full orchestra for a serenade. Our soloist sang it artlessly and with purity of tone.
When it comes to Gretchen am Spinnrade, I confess that I cannot see why one would like to hear it in any other way rather than in Schubert’s original setting, in which the piano arpeggi are central to the concept. Delivered by the second violins, not only do they lack clarity but tend to disappear in the big picture. Ms. Mühlemann here wisely went for something more operatic, which had the effect of making the climax less climactic. Although Benjamin Britten’s take on Die Forelle misses Schuberr’s brilliant aural depictions of the water flow, Ms. Muhlemann sang it as I’ve probably never heard it before. It is an elusive song, one never truly gets the poet’s point-of-view here, and a bright-eyed childlike report struck me as the right way to perform it. Franz Liszt’s adaptation of Erlkönig is the famous exception that confirms the rule. If you think of it as a Lied where THE SINGER has to embody the tale’s three characters plus the narrator, the piano is the ideal accompaniment, for it allows he or she to darken and lighten the voice without having to worry with loss of projection. Now if you think that THE ACCOMPANIMENT can create the atmosphere for each character and the singing is basically a narration, then Liszt’s multicoloured use of the orchestra makes it a mini-Tonepoem with voice. In any case, it requires a voice with more volume and tonal variety, but Regula Mühlemann’s extremely clear diction and crispness of tonal delivery did the trick – and she can be a scarily sweet-voiced Erlking too.
The Straussian part of the program proved to be more flattering in vocal terms. We heard here the usual suspects light sopranos tend to choose in concerts like this: Ich wollt’ein Sträusslein binden pure-toned and direct in expression, Schlagende Herzen bell-toned and without the usual indulgences that make it operetta-ish and probably the most convincing rendition of Muttertänderlei I have ever heard, rhythmically crisp, almost pop in tone and very idiomatic. I had never heard Die Nacht with orchestra, and Martin Braun’s orchestration did not make me think it is worth the detour. I have the impression our soloist would have benefited from the piano version to achieve the ideal spontaneity this songs require. On the other hand, she really surprised me by the un-canary-ish way she sang Amor. Here one generally hears a coloratura soprano going for a fast tempo to show off her flexibility, and the effect usually tends to the exhilarating. Mr. Mühlemann chose for a slower pace (and proved to have the lungs to hold these lines in these circumstances) that made it all rather “lyric” in approach. She also used this to work on the text and dealt with the fioriture as if they were integrated in the line. Als mir dein Lied erklang, however, is a song that does require a more lyric voice and took her close to her limit. The voice still keeps some roundness in exposed climactic high notes, but at least at this point of her career, looses some color. Last year in Bern, when she sang the Vier letzte Lieder, she seemed to be in stronger voice, offering something a tad more solid when she needed to shift into the fifth gear.
As encore, she first offered a pièce de resistance for coloratura sopranos, Alexander Alabiev’s Nightingale (in German), in which she eschewed vocal narcism while trying to deliver it as song-like as possible. In comparison, Edita Gruberová in her studio recording sounds far more self-indulgent with tempo, more generic with the text, more flamboyant with decoration (and a bit more precise in her trills and staccato notes). Finally, R. Strauss’s Morgen sounded touching in its naturalness and verbal expression.
The Festival Strings Lucerne has broken free from the baton of a conductor and performs under the direction of its concert master, Daniel Dodds. They opened the program by an animated account of Mozart’s Symphony no. 31, the strings offering crisp articulation and ideal balance, the phrasing dramatic and accents crisp and purposeful. Ravel’s Le tombeau de Couperin seems to be an obvious choice for a formation like this, in which the musicians keep a chamber-music-like eye-to-eye relationship. They seemed to be having fun and worked their way towards an audience who did not seem to be at first waiting for the next vocal item. Schoenberg’s 1896 for strings and harp, almost decadently late-Romantic was an interesting transition for the Strauss songs. In the vocal items, the soprano acted as a primus inter pares and the close communication with the concert master proved to be an advantage. When she needed an extra second, they would get it. When they needed an extra second, she would get it too.
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