Roméo Records 7277
Notes on Rachmaninov Songs
The Dream: This song is
a longing to times where all was peaceful and friends were around. But
alas, all this has been now been like a dream, or was it ever true?
The song starts with "And I had a native land" like an idyllic
picture seen through glass , goes on to describe the "tree swaying
above", building the melody and then abruptly stops, and modulates"
but it was a dream". Now the composer goes back to the previous melody
and tells us about a circle of friends that were like family, throwing
words of love from all sides…. But that was a dream. The piano accompaniment
finishes the picture of another time, when perhaps all that was reality,
but no more, it fades away in a dream.
How peaceful: Rachmaninov
and his wife were on their honeymoon when he composed the work, which,
not surprisingly, he also dedicated to her. This was obviously a blissful
time in his life, then, true to his nature, Rachmaninov was moved to write
music here about romance and passion, leaving out the sunshine and merriment
he must also have felt. The song features one of the composer's most soaring,
beautiful vocal melodies that would not have been out of place in a slow
movement of one of his concertos or symphonies. The accompaniment is appropriately
subdued and just as romantic as the vocal line. The text, by G. Galina,
describes a pastoral scene where young lovers have come to be alone with
nature and themselves.
He has taken everything from me:
This is a short dramatic piece. God was punishing and had taken all away,
health, will power, even the air and dreams.
Now comes modulation and a completely different soft declamation: he did
leave me with you my beloved so I can pray to him. So, despite all that
has been taken away, there is consolation by the beloved one.
Cease thy singing, maiden fair:
The text for this song, written by the great Alexander Pushkin in 1828.Composed
when Rachmaninov was 19, this song generates a compelling, gripping mood
through its use of a folk melody-like line, and marvelous harmonic tensions
created through the meshing of modal chords with stepwise chromatic inner
voices and steadily pulsing pedal points. This approach is present at
the beginning in the extended piano introduction and its brooding Russian
soul.A simple harp-like arpeggiation on an A minor chord invites the vocal
declaration of the first line in recitative style. "Do not sing,
my beauty, your sad Georgian songs to me." The piano begins its pulsing
chords again under the passionately melismatic vocal line "they remind
me of that other life on a distant shore."
Two beautiful piano measures, built around a folk scale (descending: E,
D, B flat, A, G sharp, F, E), serve as a simple interlude. The voice enters
softly but immediately builds to impassioned declarations: "Alas,
I am reminded by your cruel melodies of the steppe, the night, the countenance
of a poor, distant maiden lit by the moon!".
The second interlude, built upon the unusual descending folk scale transposed
down a perfect fifth, again grows out of the agitation of the previous
passage. The singer is still not calmed, however, and the next line builds
to a fortissimo apex on a high sustained A underscored with concerto-like
sweeping scales and reiterated rising chromatic figures in the piano:
"When you appear, I forget that cherished and fateful apparition,
but then you sing, and I picture that image anew."
A third brief two-measure interlude introduces a new melodic figure in
the bass built on a Phrygian mode similar to the folk scale. The simple
rolled A minor chord of the first verse evokes its recapitulation. Then
a very beautiful effect is achieved when the piano introduction is combined
with simple sustained notes in the vocal melody line. An extended eight-measure
coda provides a symmetrical complement to the piano introduction, and
also mixes loving and brooding emotions in a satisfying closing.
Fragment from A. Musset: This very
dramatic piece describes the sufferings of a lonely soul, in agony and
suffering. Why does his soul ache? No peace is found and something is
imagined, perhaps hallucinated? The urgent, agitated accompaniment supports
this very real turmoil of feeling. "There was a knock at the door,
a groan, the dying lamp flamed brilliantly.. My God! The breath was stifled
in my breast!" And then "Someone is calling me, whispering sadly..
.Someone has entered"…In this phrase the accompaniment strikes
the same note 12 times, symbolizing the twelve times the clock strikes
at midnight. Is it death that came to take our hero? But no, his cell
is empty… it was only the clock striking. And there is the return
to the reality and sufferings of loneliness and poverty.
Morning: This piece is a genius
of painting of the daybreak separating from day as lovers. The painting
is done like an impressionistic canvas and the beginning there is the
confession "I love you", the description of blushing from that
confession, but then there is also the illumination that love brings and
the ardent kisses followed by the joy of love, despite the inevitable
separation of one from the other, but then the next meeting will come.
Don't believe, my friend: For describing
the relation between lovers, in times of quarrel and in times of great
passion, the example of the sea and seashore is used.
Just as at times of ebb, when the sea retreats from the land, it does
not mean it will not return with roaring waves and engulf the land. So
is the relation between the lovers. The song opens with "Do not believe
, my friend" , then tell us that in times of sorrow things can be
said that are not meant to be, just like the sea will always return to
the land, so is true love. The music describes well the turbulence of
feelings, just like the roaring of waves. And the second part of the song
opens with an accompaniment building up to the climax "And now the
waves are running back with roaring
From a distance to the beloved shoreline". The song closes with a
grand cadence of the piano describing the surge of feelings as well as
the picture of a roaring sea.
Yesterday we met: There are 15 songs
in Rachmaninov's Op. 26 set, making it his largest. Yesterday we met is
one of the more widely performed among them. It is a setting of a text
by Russian poet Yakov Polonsky (1819 — 1898), whose works also attracted
the attention of Tchaikovsky, Taneyev, Cui, and other Russian composers.
The text tells of a man's chance encounter with a former lover, providing
the kind of subject matter to the melancholy, romantic muse of Rachmaninov
that drew out the best in him. The song opens with a yearning, soaring
theme that wallows in regret and a sense of loss. The piano accompaniment
is mostly comprised of chords, their tolling manner reinforce the dark
feeling of tragedy. Toward the end, the singer seems to cry out in anguish,
Rachmaninov sounding as emotional here as in any of his other compositions.
Everything is passing: set to the
words of Rathaus, this melancholic song is all about things passing away
with no return to past, with a blink of an eye. The sounds and visions
of yesterday, the flower that blossomed today but will die tomorrow, the
fire that will burn out and another wave coming after the first,thus engulfing
all that was before..The melody leads further and further until we reach
the climax of this sad song about the inevitable- one can't sing happy
songs. The piano accompaniment rounds out this sad state of mind.
For long in love: This is a rather
different song dealing with the pains of rejected love. It opens with
"For long in love there's been little consolation": then comes
a rapid passage of the accompaniment and immediately after that the bursts
"Sighs without reply", "tears without joy" ."What
was sweet became sour", the melody leading down into the depths of
desperation in "The rose leaves have fallen, the hopes have dispersed".
The section "Leave me, mix me with the crowd" put emphasis on
"leave m", "but you turned away, you are angry with me,
and still sick with me."- the lack of acceptance of the inevitable
from the rejected lover.
Then another burst "O, how hard it is for me and how I am hurt!"
In the Mysterious Silence of the Night: with
a text by Afansij Afanas'evic Fet (1820 - 1892), this song expressing
a barely restrained passion was composed on October 17, 1890, when Rachmaninov
was 17. But already the composer's particular and individual sense of
tonality can be heard, a "sound" that will blossom fully developed
within a decade in the first two piano concerti.
The song opens with lightly pulsing triplets played pianississimo at a
Lento tempo. Suddenly a descending series of heavily accented major and
minor sixths rings out of the quietude disturbing the first measure's
brief sensation of tranquility in the night. The pulse ritards and then
starts again but now just slightly amplified (pianissimo) and cautious.
The vocalist enters in a mood that is equally agitated, ecstatic, and
puzzled. Rachmaninov constructs an elastic melody line formed of many
different phrases with small patterns that internally repeat before preceding
onward. The first phrase introduces a dream-like image: "In the silence
of the mysterious night, your beguiling patter, smiles, glances, fleeting
glances...." The piano answers the voice, and the chromatic inner
lines complement the voice in both unison and contrary motion. The piano
and voice then cross each other with ascending and descending melodies
in contrary motion, creating elegant and touching momentary dissonances:
"the locks of your flowing hair, those locks so pliant in your fingers,
I will be trying for a long time to rid myself of these images only to
evoke them once again." The melody circles around, each time flying
toward a higher pitch until a climactic forte at the end of the phrase.
The piano diminishes in volume and tries to descend back into the initial
mysterious atmosphere. But before it can do that, the voice enters again
with a new pattern, causing the accompaniment to change its pulsing into
more on-rushing sixteenth-note arpeggios. This patterning and agitation
perfectly fits the words: "I will be repeating and correcting in
a whisper the words I've spoken, words that are awkward, and, drunk with
love, and contrary to all reason, I will stir the darkness of the night
with your beloved name, I will stir the darkness of the night with your
beloved name." On the repetition of the last line the piano becomes
concerto-like and the voice reaches its highest peaks in pitch, volume,
and emotion. Very slowly, the subtle mood of the beginning returns with
gently pulsing triplets in the piano, descending chromatic inner lines,
and low vocal tones. "Oh, long in the silence of the mysterious night...."
Then the voice and piano slowly ascend to close on an airy and crystalline
texture underscoring the final line "I will stir the darkness of
the night with your dear name."
Child, You Are Beautiful Like a Flower:
this song is gentle and pure pure The lilting melody leads us into the
first line"Child, you are beautiful like a flower" , then "Enlightened,
innocent and lovely", growing to "I look at you and wonder,"
the phrase "And my soul is alive again" given a shiny climax
feeling . Then the lilting melody returns "I wish I could put my
hands on your head" and another climax comes "Asking that God"
descending gently on " will always keep you beautiful and innocent".
The piano ending is again the lilting melody with evocations of oriental
melody at the end.
She is as fair as noon day: this
gorgeous Rachmaninov song is the ninth song from Rachmaninov's Op.14 set
set to the words of N. Minskii describes a beloved one as fair as noon,she
is more mysterious than midnight. Her eyes have never shed a tear, her
soul is a stranger to suffering. Jet, the singer knowing only struggle
and sorrow, is destined to long for her just like the eternally weeping
sea is in love with the silent shore.
Oh no, I beg you, do not leave!: the
first of opus 4 songs, this is a song musically looking back to the initial
version of the central movement of the F harp minor piano concerto. This
is a despaired expression of a lost love, where the man begs his beloved
to remain and not leave, how he needs her love, better new sufferings
that await him, they are like sweet talk and kiss to him and he can't
think but about one thing" Oh, stay with me, do not leave!".
This desperate cry ends the song with the piano echoing the turmoil of
the man soul.
Notes on Brahms’
Songs
Brahms' devotion to Teutonic ideals is reflected in the great body of
German folksong to which he turned with avidity. In 1894 Brahms published
six volumes of Volks-Kinderlieder mit Clavierbegleitung-49 songs in all.
These are a memorial of the affectionate relations which existed between
the composer and Schumann family. They were written and dedicated for
the children of Clara and Robert Schumann. The Wiegenlied is also dedicated
to the child friends of the composer –Arthur and Berta Faber in
Vienna. Brahms made use of 119 folk poems in his lied output. To fifty
six he gave original settings. The others he arranged, not only by enriching
the melodies but also by amendments of the melody. Brahms maintained a
Classical sense of form and order in his works – in contrast to
the opulence of the music of many of his contemporaries. Ein deutsches
Requiem ("A German Requiem") is not a setting of the liturgical
Missa pro defunctis, but a setting of texts which Brahms selected from
the Lutheran Bible. The works of his last period are awesome in their
grandeur and concentration, the last of his published works, the Vier
ernste Gesänge (Four Serious Songs), are among the high points of
his creativity.
This recording figures a selection of eight songs.
Die Mainacht
The title is May Night and the story of the poem maybe is that there is
someone separated from his love. He is wandering around outside and he
is reminded of this significant other when he sees a pair of doves. The
words in the poem give the texture that he is being tormented from separation
and is longing to the day he finds her again.
Brahms does an exquisite job conveying the text of "Die Mainacht"
though his accompaniment and contour of the melody. The first definite
key change in measure thirteen shows the change of thought of the singer.
It also begins a new image of happy nature with the "pair of doves"
juxtaposed with the previous image of the wandering, sad speaker. This
cadence is especially important because it makes the rest of the second
inversion tonic chords stick out as unsettling. It would be easy as a
performer to relay this feeling of hopelessness and uncertainty with this
accompaniment because the melody is very exposed just like the person
observing this scene. The accompaniment is strong and smooth while the
melody is very soaring and at parts seems detached because of the large
range covered by the singer. There are some text painting words like "traurig"
meaning sadly that uses a mixture and goes in a downward motion in the
melody. Another is "taubenpaar" meaning pair of doves and the
text painting makes it look like a pair and the wide jumps gives an image
of birds soaring. The word "wende mich" translates to turn away
and is shown with the large leap and the eight note and doted quarter
is the physical motion of turning. In the text "suche dunklere Schatten"
it translates to seeking darker shadows and is shown with a sudden dynamic
marking dropping to piano and getting softer and slowing down. The text
"einsame Trane" meaning lonely tear appears twice and has a
downward motion in the melody and a pause that envisions a tear dropping.
The piano postlude ends the poem and gives a feeling of contemplating
and coming to a final decision and confirming it with an authentic cadence
at the end.
Lullaby is the common name for a number of children's lullabies with similar
lyrics and the same melody, the original of which was Johannes Brahms'
Wiegenlied: Guten Abend,
gute Nacht, Op. 49, No. 4 (published in 1868).
The first verse is taken from a collection of German folk poems called
Des Knaben Wunderhorn.
O wüßt ich doch den Weg zurück- Heimweh
II (Homesickness II).
While the first "Heimweh" song is wistful, this one is more
deeply introspective. The piano introduction sets up slow, sweeping arches
over the long 6/4 bars. The line is richly chromatic. This pattern continues
when the voice enters. The vocal line is also slow and introspective,
but not as chromatic as the underlying piano arpeggios. Often, the voice
moves in the opposite arch-like trajectory from the piano, and always
in slower note values. Line 3 moves strikingly to the key of F major.
Line 4 restores the prevalent E major key. The words "der Mutter
Hand" are repeated over an inserted bar of 9/4, which creates a moment
of even more breadth. A variation of the first two bars of the introduction
leads to the next stanza.
Brahms marks "Lebhafter werdend" ("Becoming more lively")
at this point. The line is more assertive. The piano abandons the long
arpeggios in favor of a flowing left hand under a chordal right. The verse
is largely set in the closely related key of B, with a major/minor mixture.
The entire last line is repeated.
Stanza 3 (B'). Follows closely upon stanza 3, and is extremely similar,
with the only major difference being a slightly more flowing second line
("Und nur zu träumen leicht und lind"). The last line is
repeated, as in stanza 2. A quick key change back to E over a slowing
of tempo to the original pace leads to the final stanza.
Stanza 4 (A'). The first two lines are exactly as in stanza 1, as the
parallel text would suggest. The last two lines make an extremely subtle,
but dramatic change. The slowly flowing accompaniment is suddenly aborted
as the key changes to F again. It is replaced by rather stark syncopated
octaves in the right hand. The fourth line, including a similar text repetition
("ist öder Strand"), and a 9/4 bar as before, retains the
same contour, but is now set in E minor, rather than major, creating a
seemingly pessimistic close.
Coinciding with the last note of stanza 4, the long arpeggios of the piano
introduction return and restore the major mode. This creates a beautiful
close that almost negates the pessimistic ending of the last stanza, but
the many chromatic notes underscore the pervading melancholy mood to the
end.
O kühler Wald no 3 from op 72, on the words of Clemens
Maria Wenzeslaus von Brentano is another masterpiece conveying the longing
of one for his beloved. The grandeur of the forest, and its chilling cold
come across by the accompaniment and the melody of the singer longing
for his lost love like an echo in the forest.
Feldeinsamkeit
This lovely song by Brahms conjures a moment from childhood or
young adulthood most individuals had experienced in the composer's own
time. Lying in the grass, observing the myriad elements of nature's display,
the feeling that nothing else exists in the moment. Feldeinsamkeit (Field
Solitude) is suffused with that magical feeling, expressed in long, flowing
lines that suggest a suspension of time even as they slowly, and for the
most part, steadily unfold. Suited to a variety of voices, from lyric
sopranos to basses who can sing softly, it tests the legato of the finest
artists. As with most of the composer's songs, the accompaniment has considerable
depth. The singer, resting in the tall, green grass, muses as he gazes
upward, listening to the crickets as the blue heavens enfold him. Clouds
float by through the deep blue, like silent dreams. It is as though he
had been long dead, rising in bliss with the clouds through endless space.
The poem by Hermann Allmers is simple enough and Brahms' song gracefully
adds a heightened sense of infinitude. The tempo is marked Langsam (slowly)
as the accompanist plays two measures of quarter note chords in the right
hand, slightly broken by dotted quarter notes in the left. The effect
at such a spacious tempo is of great calm enhanced by a sense of random
wonder. The volume is held to piano nearly throughout, except for several
slight swells where fullness of feeling encourages the singer to ever
so slightly expand the tone. These crescendos and decrescendos are subtle,
however, so as to leave the dreamy landscape unruffled. Aside from supporting
the text with a faithfulness that would do credit to Wolf (Brahms' nemesis),
the accompaniment is one of arresting beauty in itself. The vocal line
ranges lazily, magically before coming to rest on a gently voiced turn
on the final word "Räume" (space, as in infinitude). The
song ends, yet seems to softly echo on.
Sapphische Ode
Despite the title of this celebrated song by Brahms, the work borrows
only the form, not the subject matter, of "Sappho of Lesbos."
The quatrain pattern identified with the poetess was closely followed
by both the writer, Hans von Schmidt, and the composer. Schmidt was something
of a musician and became a member of Vienna circle with which Brahms spent
considerable time. Submitted directly to Brahms, Schmidt's poetry (including
this text) elicited an admiring reply; less than three years later, the
composer set Sapphische Ode with respect for its structure and pleasure
in its subject. The singer informs the listener that he picked roses by
night from lowering hedgerows; they betrayed a sweeter fragrance than
by day and, in motion, showered him with dew. In the second stanza, he
tells of the fragrance of his beloved's kisses, picked by night from the
rosebush of her lips. When stirred by her deepest feelings, she, like
the rosebush, was bedewed, but with tears instead. Movingly heartfelt
within the strictures of its restraint, this song has become a favorite
of audiences as well as a test of the singer's ability to maintain a poised
vocal line, especially through the slow turns that conclude both stanzas.
Written for low voice (in D major), its range extends from D downward
to the A an octave plus below. The accompaniment begins marked piano and,
aside from one discreet swell in volume, remains piano or double piano
throughout. Likewise, the singer is instructed to move within the same
subtle dynamic range, confidingly making his (or her) points and with
flawless legato. Details abound in this seemingly simple song. The accompaniment
initially falls, not on the principal beats of its 4/4 meter, but on the
offbeat, launched by an eighth-note rest. Under the vocal line, which
begins in even quarter notes, the effect is of an undisturbed evenness
and great calm. As the singer recalls the movement of the rose branches
and the spattering of dew, the meter changes to 3/2 and the accompaniment
crisply plays the right hand against the left in alternate staccato pulsations.
The device is repeated in the second stanza to underscore the plucking
of kisses.
Wie Melodien zieht
es mir is one of Brahms’s most popular songs. The
tender lyricism of the principal melody alone could account for this popularity.
Indeed, when considering the success of ‘Wie Melodien’, it
can seem convenient to ignore the text (as Brahms himself appears to have
done when he reworked the same melody in his A major Violin Sonata op.
100). Elisabet von Herzogenberg, one of Brahms’s closest friends
and most perceptive critics, commented on the abstract nature of Klaus
Groth’s poem. The exact meaning of the poem is elusive (an elusiveness
that is, paradoxically, hard to capture in English): to what exactly does
‘es’ [it] refer? Like the perfume and mist the poem describes,
the meaning seems to ‘waft away’ just when the reader is close
to grasping it, and Brahms renders this sensation perfectly through the
varying erosions of the tonic at the end of each strophe. But in this
elusiveness lies an important clue. The poem is self-reflexive –
it is a poem about poetry itself: much is lost in the process of transferral
from the mind of the poet to the word on the page, but the sensitive and
sympathetic reader (the ‘moist eye’) will still perceive the
essence of the poet’s meaning. In the very act of selecting and
setting this particular poem to music, Brahms adds another layer to the
self-reflexivity of the poem. The melodies that move gently through the
narrator’s mind are now audible, and the poem and music together
seem to evoke the process of Lieder writing: melodies (Brahms’s)
are captured by words (in this case Groth’s), but still it is only
the ‘moist eye’ that will be capable of retracing the process
and fully appreciating the composer’s intention.
Verrat (Betrayal), by Karl Lemcke, tells of a man who,
outside his sweetheart's house, realizes she is seeing another. He hears
her tell the strange man when to return, then waits for him and kills
him. In B minor, the song is in ternary form with a central section, in
which the man plans his revenge, on E flat minor. Brahms' familiarity
with the folk song idiom is most clear in the occasional repetition of
the last words at the end of a line.
Notes on Schubert’s
Songs
Here is a selection of six songs by this great composer.
Der Leiermann (The Hurdy-Gurdy Man)
At the end of the village he finds the old barefoot hurdy-gurdy man, winding
away his tunes, but no one has given him a penny, or listens, and even
the dogs growl at him. But he just carries on playing, and the poet thinks
he will cast in his lot with him. The parallel with the singer singing
his sad songs in the ice and the slow, unresolved melody of the hurdy-gurdy
concludes the cycle with an eerily unfinished feel perfectly in character
with the lonely wandering of the singer.
Aufenthalt (Resting Place), Rellstab's
title for the poem Schubert set in August 1828 (the setting became part
of the set known as Schwanengesang, suggests one of the few examples of
irony in all Schubert's Rellstab settings. How could the singer of the
song find rest amidst the "surging rivers" and the "roaring
forests" described in Rellstab's verses? Unless, of course, that
is the point of Rellstab's poem: there is no rest, no comfort, no consolation,
because the whole world is full of surging rivers and roaring forests.
But whether or not Rellstab was being ironic, Schubert certainly wasn't
being ironic at all; his setting of Aufenthalt is full of musical symbols
of surging rivers and roaring forests, full of pounding chords and anguished
themes; full, in other words, of symbols of unrest and disquiet. And yet
the song rarely leaves the tonic key except for brief modulations to the
relative major in the third verse and to the submediant minor at the song's
fortississimo climax. And even then the music returns very quickly to
the tonic. In fact, by dwelling so obsessively on the tonic minor, Schubert
does impart a sense of rest to the music. Even if all the world is full
of surging rivers and roaring forests, there is a kind of peace in knowing
it, a kind serenity in accepting the tonic minor as the singer's destiny.
Four of Schubert's six Heine settings are frankly frightening. But by
far the scariest song of the six Heine settings — indeed the single
scariest song Schubert ever composed — is Der
Doppelgänger (The Ghostly Double). In Heine's poem,
the narrator walks the street of a dead city and meets beneath the window
of the woman he loves his own doppelganger, wringing his hands with agony
and grief. In Schubert's song, the shock and the terror of recognition
is more than the singer can bear and he is realizes that he is in fact
what he already was before the song began: quite mad.
Schubert's music is absolutely unique and absolutely unlike anything
else that had ever been composed. The accompaniment is nothing but chords
— unavoidable, inescapable chords, nearly all of them minor chords
— which fall on the downbeat of every bar with only two tiny embellishments
to relieve their grim monotony. And the vocal melody is not much more;
in fact, it is more recitative than melody: the voice circles obsessively,
endless around a single pitch, climbing at the song's first fortississimo
climax on the word Schmerz (pain) to the octave above but then collapsing
hideously back down to the original pitch. But the agonizing pain is palpable
from the first note and the first climax simply states the obvious. But
at the song's second climax, the melody again rise to the same fortississimo
climax on the same awful pitch but this time on the word Liebesleid (love
pain). And at that moment we know that the singer is mad, that the pain
of love has driven the singer mad, and that this doppelganger is not his
ghostly double but the singer himself.
Der Wanderer (D.493) is the name
of a Lied composed by Franz Schubert in October 1816 for voice and piano.
A revised version was published near the end of May 1821 as opus 4, number
1. The words are taken from a German poem by Georg Philipp Schmidt (von
Lübeck). The lied is set in the key of C-sharp minor with the tempo
marking sehr langsam (very slow) and the time signature alla breve.
The song begins with a recitative, describing the setting: mountains,
a steaming valley, the roaring sea. The wanderer is strolling quietly,
unhappily, and asks, sighing, the question: "where?"
The next section, consisting of 8 bars of a slow melody sung in pianissimo,
describes the feelings of the wanderer: the sun seems cold, the blossom
withered, life old. The wanderer expresses the conviction of being a stranger
everywhere. This 8 bar section was later used by Schubert as theme for
a set of variations forming the second movement of the Wanderer Fantasy.
Next the music shifts to the key of E major, the tempo increases and the
time signature changes to 6/8. The wanderer asks: "where are you
my beloved land?" This place the wanderer longs for is described
as green with hope, "the land where my roses bloom, my friends stroll,
my dead rise" and, finally, "the land which speaks my language,
Oh land, where are you?" Towards the end of this section, the music
gets quite animated and forms the climax of the song.
Finally, the music returns to the original minor key and slow tempo. After
quoting the question "where?" from the opening, the song closes
with a "ghostly breath" finally answering the question: "There
where you are not, there is happiness." The song closes in the key
of E major.
Der Tod und das Mädchen (D.531,
February 1817, published by Cappi und Diabelli in Vienna in November 1821
as Op 7 No 3), Death and the Maiden in English, is a lied composed by
Franz Schubert. The text is derived from a poem written by German poet
Matthias Claudius. The song is set for voice and piano.
The piece begins with an introduction in D minor; the first eight bars
in the time signature 2/2. Both hands play chords. The section is quiet
and slow, and presents the musical theme of Death.
The Maiden enters in the ninth bar on an anacrusis. This section is more
agitated than the first; it is marked piano and "somewhat faster"
(etwas geschwinder). The melody gradually increases in pitch, chromatically
at points. The piano accompaniment is syncopated, playing chords of quavers
alternating in the left and right hand. A diminished chord in the first
bar of the third line (ich bin noch jung) creates an eerie mood. In the
eighth bar of the maiden's song, on the word rühre ("touch"),
the quavers stop and the rhythm of the opening section returns. Then an
imperfect cadence leads to a rest with fermata. The third and final section
is Death's song. The music returns to the tempo and dynamics of the introduction.
Death's melody has a narrow pitch range. The key modulates to F major,
the relative major of D minor. With the last syllable of Death's song,
the key changes into D-major. The coda is almost a repeat of the introduction,
except it is shortened by one bar and is now in the major key.
Schubert composed his lied An die Musik
("To Music") in March 1817 for solo voice and piano,
with text from a poem by his friend Franz von Schober. In the Deutsch
catalog of Schubert's works it is number 547, or D547. It was published
in 1827 as Opus 88 No. 4 by Weigl. A hymn to the art of music, it is one
of the best-known songs by Schubert. Its greatness and popularity are
generally attributed to its harmonic simplicity, sweeping melody, and
a strong bass line that effectively underpins the vocal line.
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