Schubert 328

As a matter of fact, this is your parents' Schubert lieder recital. Back in the '60s, when you were up in your bedroom listening the Beatles on your portable record player, your mom and dad were downstairs listening to Christa Ludwig on the console housed in the hutch. And while they wished you'd turn your music down, you wished they'd turn down their music down.

As a matter of fact, this is your parents' Schubert lieder recital. Back in the '60s, when you were up in your bedroom listening the Beatles on your portable record player, your mom and dad were downstairs listening to Christa Ludwig on the console housed in the hutch. And while they wished you'd turn your music down, you wished they'd turn down their music down.

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.

Maurizio Pollini records Schubert's three great last sonatas, all written in the year of his untimely death, with a delicate and lyrical touch.

Terfel's gift is a generous, individual voice, a natural feeling for German and an inborn abil- ity to go to the heart of what he attempts. His singing here is grand in scale – listen to any of the dramatic songs and the point is made – but like Hotter, whom he so often resembles, he's able to reduce his large voice to the needs of a sustained, quiet line, as in Meerestille. When the two come together as in Der Wanderer, the effect can be truly electrifying, even more so, perhaps, in Erlkönig where the four participants are superbly contrasted. Yet this is a voice that can also smile, as in An die Laute and 'Die Taubenpost' or express wonder, as in Ganymed, a most exhilarating interpretation, or again explode in sheer anger as in the very first song, the strenuous Gruppe aus dem Tartarus.

I can claim possibly some very small influence on this record. Some years ago Jessye Norman broke the last and very difficult phrase of Ganymed with a breath. I then pointed out in a review that Gerald Moore (in Singer and Accompanist London: 1953) had urged singers to phrase it in one as Norman has done in recitals, and now on record, ever since. Cause and effect? I don't know. This is, in any case, one of the most rewarding performances on the record, sung with conviction and, throughout, with long-breathed phrasing.

"You can freely paraphrase Louis XIV and say: I am the orchestra! I am the cho¬rus! I am also the conductor!” With these words Hector Berlioz paid homage to a man who was indeed all of these things put together: Franz Liszt.
This eulogy, however, was not only for Liszt, the man; it was also for his instrument and the compositions he wrote for it, an instrument which, also in part thanks to Liszt, became the dominant instrument of bourgeois musical culture in the 19th century: the piano. The reason for this dominance? Liszt himself gave the answer by ascribing to the piano and to the ten fingers of the pianist the ability to reproduce the sonorities and harmonies of an entire orchestra. The improvements made to the piano at that time (around 1825), e.g. the new Erard repetition action and the exponsion of the instrument's range to seven octaves, support these claims.