Dietrich Fischer Dieskau

Schubert knew madness. He knew it to the depths of his soul and feared it. And out of his fear he wrote the greatest monument to love lost, to death lost, to madness found. He wrote Die Winterreise, the most hopeless art work ever conceived by the despairing mind of man. Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau is the voice of Winterreise. In small part, this is because he recorded it seven times between 1952 and 1990. In larger part, this is because he is able to transform himself into the despairing lover. Yet Fischer-Dieskau is still the most lucid and most technically controlled of madmen. As Ingmar Bergman remarked on actor Max von Sydow, "If I'd had a psychopath to present these deeply psychopathic roles, it would have been unbearable". At 55, Fischer-Dieskau returned to Winterreise in 1980, no longer the sad swain or the suicidal lover, but as a man bowed with age and burdened with an interpretive past. His voice far past freshness, Fischer-Dieskau still has something to say concerning Winterreise, indeed, about man's fate. Accompanied by the self-effacing Daniel Barenboim, Fischer-Dieskau sings of the meaninglessness of love of the pointlessness of life.

The French division of the massive EMI corporation has released a compendium called Les Introuvables de Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau (EMI 68509, six CDs), and it contains so much outstanding material that one feels churlish complaining about what it lacks. But here we go. These six discs contain more than 125 lieder, ballads, cantatas and songs – primarily in German, but also in French, Italian, Latin and English – recorded mostly in the 1950s and '60s when Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau's voice was one of the wonders of the musical universe.

…interesting, neglected material performed to perfection with texts and translations provided. Although Schumann’s duets were primarily intended for home performance around the piano, they benefit enormously from readings by such fine artists as the three taking part in this recital – recorded in 1977, but sounding as if committed to disc yesterday, so excellent is the sound, so spontaneous the singing.

If ever a performance of Schumann's Piano Concerto stressed the principle of dialogue between soloist and conductor, then this is it. True, the Philharmonia's string ensemble isn't as watertight under Fischer-Dieskau as it might have been under some other conductors; and poetry is invested at the premium of relatively low-level drama. Orchestral textures are absolutely right for Schumann – warm yet transparent, full-bodied yet never stodgy – and poetry is a major priority. Add Barenboim's compatible vision and keyboard finesse, and you indeed have a memorable reading.

"In the typically genial 2 CD collection of Schubert duets, trios and quartets are resurrected golden age stereo analogue recordings made in 1973. These come to 25 works, all piano accompanied. The artists are the elite of the day. The only name unfamiliar to me was the tenor Horst R Laubenthal. No corners are cut with the notes which have been freshly penned by Malcolm Macdonald. On the other hand there are no texts or translations.

This collection of all of Schubert's songs for low voice is one of the landmark recordings of the 20th century because it features two of the greatest Schubertians of their era, baritone Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau and pianist Gerald Moore. The recordings, made by Deutsche Grammophon between 1966 and 1972, come from Fischer-Dieskau's prime, when he was in his early to mid-thirties, his voice fully mature and its youthful bloom gloriously resplendent.

This collection of all of Schubert's songs for low voice is one of the landmark recordings of the 20th century because it features two of the greatest Schubertians of their era, baritone Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau and pianist Gerald Moore. The recordings, made by Deutsche Grammophon between 1966 and 1972, come from Fischer-Dieskau's prime, when he was in his early to mid-thirties, his voice fully mature and its youthful bloom gloriously resplendent.

With his voice in its heady first bloom, Fischer-Dieskau dramatises rather than merely relates. In the third song, "Ich wandelte unter den Bäumen", he is dulcet at the opening, finds a disembodied colouring for the mysterious birdsong, and then uses a harder, darkened tone to convey the mingled disillusion and defiance of the close. Elsewhere, Fischer-Dieskau combines a yearning legato with an edge of neurosis in "Schöne Wiegen meiner Leiden", hauntingly catches the numbed fear of "Lieb' Liebchen" - where Heine equates his heartbeat with a carpenter hammering his coffin - and sings the final "Mit Myrthen und Rosen" with rueful tenderness.

With his voice in its heady first bloom, Fischer-Dieskau dramatises rather than merely relates. In the third song, "Ich wandelte unter den Bäumen", he is dulcet at the opening, finds a disembodied colouring for the mysterious birdsong, and then uses a harder, darkened tone to convey the mingled disillusion and defiance of the close. Elsewhere, Fischer-Dieskau combines a yearning legato with an edge of neurosis in "Schöne Wiegen meiner Leiden", hauntingly catches the numbed fear of "Lieb' Liebchen" - where Heine equates his heartbeat with a carpenter hammering his coffin - and sings the final "Mit Myrthen und Rosen" with rueful tenderness.

By 1976 Fischer-Dieskau had been performing before the microphone for almost thirty years and was approaching the end of his vocal prime – he turned 51 that year. Yet his mastery of Wolf's intricate, concentrated, turn-on-a-dime idiom was at its height. You can buy any number of individual recitals by him that feature Wolf, and 175 songs on six CDs is a lot to absorb. Nonetheless, this budget repackaging is a must-listen. The singer got a new lease on his artistic life by taking up partnerships with noted pianists like Brendel, Richter, and Barenboim.