your Winterreise Programme here

Tuesday 21 October 2008 at 7.30pm
Ian Bostridge tenor
Mitsuko Uchida piano
Schubert Winterreise, D911
75’
There will be no interval.
The performance will end at approximately 8.45pm.
Barbican Hall
The Barbican is
provided by the
City of London
Corporation.
100%
Programme text printed on 100% recycled materials.
Find out first Why not download your Great Performers programme
before the concert? Programmes are now available online five days in advance of each
concert. To download your programme, find out full details of concerts, watch videos or
listen to soundclips, visit www.barbican.org.uk/greatperformers0708
Due to possible last-minute changes, the online content may differ slightly from that of the printed version.
Introduction
Homeward Bound
The voice of Ian Bostridge
Welcome to Homeward Bound, part of the Barbican’s Great Performers season. I am thrilled and honoured to have
been given the opportunity, in my home city, to present so much varied and ambitious work over the course of two
seasons. The works included have covered virtually the entire span of what we call classical music (with a little popular
music thrown in for good measure), from the closing days of Elizabeth I to the eve of the accession of Elizabeth II. The
musical palette has ranged from the microcosmic – lute song – to the cosmic – Britten’s grandest opera, Billy Budd.
My particular interest in English 17th-century culture was reflected an evening’s interweaving of prose and poetry by
John Donne, who was once Dean of St Paul’s just round the corner. It included settings of Donne’s work by his
contemporaries as well as by Benjamin Britten.
The series ends with Britten’s Christmas cantata, Saint Nicolas, which I first sang more than 30 years ago at school.
Britten remains, for many of us, the model composer and musician of modern times. As a singer, I return for
inspiration to his words on receiving the first Aspen Award in 1964:
‘I believe in roots, in associations, in backgrounds, in personal relationships. I want my music to be of use to people, to
please them, to enhance their lives. My music has its roots in where I live and work.‘
Ian Bostridge
Programme produced by Harriet Smith; printed by Sharp Print Limited;
advertising by Cabbell (tel. 020 8971 8450)
Please make sure that all digital watch alarms and mobile phones are switched
off during the performance. In accordance with the requirements of the licensing
authority, sitting or standing in any gangway is not permitted. Smoking is not
permitted anywhere on the Barbican premises. No eating or drinking is allowed
in the auditorium. No cameras, tape recorders or any other recording equipment
may be taken into the hall.
Barbican Centre
Silk Street, London EC2Y 8DS
Administration 020 7638 4141
Box Office 020 7638 8891
Great Performers Last-Minute Concert
Information Hotline 0845 120 7505
www.barbican.org.uk
3
Notes
Franz Schubert (1797–1828)
Winterreise, D911 (1827)
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
Gute Nacht
Die Wetterfahne
Gefrorne Tränen
Erstarrung
Der Lindenbaum
Wasserflut
Auf dem Flusse
Rückblick
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
Irrlicht
Rast
Frühlingstraum
Einsamkeit
Die Post
Der greise Kopf
Die Krähe
Letzte Hoffnung
On 4 March 1827 Schubert invited a group of friends to
the house of the rich dilettante Franz von Schober, where
he would sing a cycle of ‘spine-chilling’ (schauerliche)
songs. ‘I am anxious to know what you will say about
them. They have affected me more than any of my other
songs.’ Schubert, depressed and distracted, failed to turn
up at Schober’s that evening. But the promised event did
apparently take place that spring or summer, when,
according to the memoirs of his friend Joseph von Spaun,
he sang them through ‘in a voice wrought with emotion’.
His hearers were baffled at the unrelieved gloom of the
songs, and Schober probably spoke for many when he
said he liked only ‘Der Lindenbaum’, the most obviously
‘tuneful’ number in the cycle. Schubert, conscious he had
achieved something quite extraordinary even by his
standards, replied: ‘I like these songs better than any
others, and you will come to like them as well’.
What his friends heard that evening was, in fact, only the
first 12 songs of Winterreise, settings of verses by the
Saxon poet Wilhelm Müller (1794–1827) that Schubert
had discovered in a periodical early in 1827. He evidently
considered the ‘cycle’ complete, casting the twelfth song,
‘Einsamkeit’, in the same key (D minor) as the opening
one, and writing ‘Finis’ at the end of the manuscript. But
in the autumn he alighted on Müller’s complete version of
Winterreise, containing an extra 12 poems which had
been intercalated throughout the existing texts. As the first
12 songs were already with the printer he did not revise
his sequence to correspond to Müller’s final order, but
4
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
Im Dorfe
Der stürmische Morgen
Täuschung
Der Wegweiser
Das Wirtshaus
Mut
Die Nebensonnen
Der Leiermann
merely appended the new songs to the original 12.
Schubert would probably have adopted Müller’s order if
he had come across the complete Winterreise in the first
place. But the fact is that he didn’t. And while it is
arguable that certain songs make better psychological
sense in Müller’s sequence – ‘Die Post’ as No. 6, rather
than as No. 13, for instance, or ‘Frühlingstraum’ as No.
21, immediately after another hallucinatory song, ‘Die
Nebensonnen’ – Schubert made a virtue of necessity: in
his order ‘Die Post’ provides a sharp contrast to the
gradually darkening inner and outer landscapes,
revitalising the cycle at its mid-point; and it is significant
that Schubert chose to place the desperate bravado of
‘Mut’ at No. 22, rather than at No. 23, as in Müller. In the
composer’s order the two final songs, ‘Die
Nebensonnen’ and ‘Der Leiermann’, form a haunted
close to the cycle, their transfigured bleakness and
suffering uninterrupted by any show of defiance.
Before Winterreise Schubert had composed individual
songs of despair, even of apocalyptic terror. But what
was new about this cycle was the spareness and
angularity of much of the writing, the work’s sustained
godless pessimism and its obsessive exploration of a
mind veering between delusion, ironic self-awareness
and nihilistic despair. The water music, limpid, turbulent
or benedictory, of Schubert’s earlier Müller cycle, Die
schöne Müllerin, gives way in Winterreise to musical
emblems of trudging and stumbling, bareness and
exhaustion, derangement and frozen, trancelike stillness.
Notes
But the nostalgic, folk-like melody and soft, full diatonic
harmonies, with a suggestion of distant horn calls
(another quintessential Romantic symbol), are even more
haunting within the context of the cycle. Major turns to
minor for the third verse as dream and memory are
confronted by chill nocturnal reality. The imagery of ice
and scalding tears reappears in ‘Wasserflut’; here the key
The repeated chords of the first songs, ‘Gute Nacht’,
word ‘Weh’ is set to a searing, stabbing dissonance, all
immediately evoke the trudge of the wanderer’s
the more shocking after a sequence of simple tonic and
footsteps, a musical image that will recur, with gradually
dominant harmonies. ‘Auf dem Flusse’ resumes the
increasing weariness, throughout the cycle. Schubert
walking gait of ‘Gute Nacht’ with a new lassitude. At the
turns to the tonic major for the last verse, conjuring with
words ‘Wie still bist du geworden’ the harmony dips softly
exquisite pathos an irretrievable happiness; but the minor
to the chord a semitone below the home key, an eerie,
returns, with a gentle twist of the knife, on the singer’s
heart-stopping evocation of the river glazing over into
final ‘An dich hab’ ich gedacht’. This major-minor
ice. In the tonally unstable final verse the fragmented
symbolism, with the minor mode evoking the grim reality
vocal line underlines the wanderer’s increasingly
of the wanderer’s plight and the major mode dream,
introspective anguish. ‘Rückblick’ looks back to
delusion or remembered bliss, will be a crucial structural
‘Erstarrung’, with a heightened agitation created by the
factor in the whole cycle.
syncopations and irregular phrasing; in the nostalgic
In ‘Die Wetterfahne’, with its gusting, whistling winds and major-keyed section, the memory of ‘runden
Lindenbäume’ prompts an allusion to ‘Der Lindenbaum’.
gyrating weather-vane, we learn that the wanderer has
been jilted, like the protagonist of Schumann’s
From now on the wanderer’s lost love recedes further into
Dichterliebe, in favour of a rich suitor. The tone of
the background as the cycle takes on an increasingly
mocking bitterness will surface periodically throughout
universal, philosophical dimension. The hypnotic motion
Winterreise. The next two songs are dominated by
of ‘Irrlicht’ is the first hint of madness which is to flicker
images of ice and scalding tears. In ‘Gefrorne Tränen’
through the later songs in the cycle. In ‘Rast’ (where the
the trudging gait of ‘Gute Nacht’ has already grown
charcoal burner remains an offstage presence,
wearier; and the music freezes altogether at ‘Ei Tränen’,
unheeded by the music) the weak offbeat accents and
a graphic – and deeply disquieting – realisation of
static bass graphically evoke the traveller’s weariness; the
Müller’s conceit of tears turning to ice. ‘Erstarrung’, with
curling semiquaver patterns at the end of each strophe
its sweeping lines and moto perpetuo accompaniment
were surely inspired by the image of the serpent in the
(note the dialogue between voice and piano left hand – a
final line. ‘Frühlingstraum’ reveals the same major-minor
typical Schubert technique), is the most urgent and
symbolism as ‘Der Lindenbaum’, with the dream evoked
impassioned of all the Winterreise songs, taking its cue
in another of Schubert’s tenderly innocent quasifrom the ‘burning tears’ of the poem.
folksongs, and minor-key reality breaking in with the
More than any of the other Winterreise songs, ‘Der
screeching, discordant cries of the cock and ravens.
Lindenbaum’ (the linden tree, with its idyllic associations, Most poignantly of all, the slow final section oscillates
played a crucial role in the German Romantic
between major and minor as dreaming mingles with
imagination) has attained an independent popularity.
wry self-awareness. ‘Einsamkeit’, the final song in
The protagonist is no longer an innocent, trusting youth
but one whose life has been blasted by experience, a
man severed from normal human bonds and fated, like
Goethe’s disturbed old Harper and the lone,
contemplative figures in the landscapes of Caspar David
Friedrich, to remain at the margin of existence.
5
Notes
Schubert’s original conception, looks back to ‘Gute
Nacht’ and ‘Rast’ in its accompaniment and melodic
contours, though the vocal line is now more broken,
the texture barer.
With its galloping rhythms and braying posthorn calls,
‘Die Post’ has a vigour startling in the context of this cycle.
In Schubert’s order it represents the wanderer’s last,
fleeting, contact with the world of cheerful, robust
normality, and significantly it is the last song in which his
lost love is mentioned. In the next two songs the spectre of
madness returns. ‘Der greise Kopf’ seems to encapsulate
in the vast span of the opening phrase all the immense
burden of the traveller’s anguish. In the hypnotic, trancelike ‘Die Krähe’, the doubling of the voice by the piano an
octave higher evokes the silent circling of the crow, both
sinister companion and predator.
The desultory two-note figures that blur the pulse and the
tonality in ‘Letzte Hoffnung’ simultaneously suggest the
falling leaves, the wanderer’s tottering footsteps and his
loosening grip on reality – a wonderful example of
Schubert’s gift for inventing musical images that paint
both the external scene and the protagonist’s inner state.
Tonal rhythmic stability is only attained with the great
arching phrases at ‘Wein, wein’. The piercing beauty of
this cantilena is paralleled at the end of ‘Im Dorfe’, in
which the snarling of the dogs, their rattling chains and
the complacently sleeping villagers form an ironic
backdrop to the traveller’s mingled bitterness and noble
resignation. In contrast, ‘Der stürmische Morgen’, with its
blustering unison writing, is a song of wild bravado
before the encroaching derangement of the final
numbers.
perfect emblem of the wanderer’s pathetic delusion
and his exclusion from the world of human conviviality.
‘Der Wegweiser’ is the longest and most complex of this
final group of songs, and the last dominated by the
walking rhythm of ‘Gute Nacht’. The singer’s chant-like
monotone and the piano’s slow-moving chromatic bass
lend a terrifying power to the final ‘Einen Weiser seh ich
stehen’. But the prospect of death here is denied the
wanderer in ‘Das Wirtshaus’, a song both majestic and
bitterly ironic, whose sonorous, organ-like chords and
solemn, measured phrases have obvious ecclesiastical
associations.
‘Mut’ is a counterpart to ‘Der stürmische Morgen’,
hurling defiance at God and fate with hysterical gaiety.
But delusion returns in ‘Die Nebensonnen’, whose
incantatory melody revolves, trance-like, around one
note. The symbolism of the suns has been endlessly
debated: there may be allusions to lines from
Shakespeare’s Henry VI Part 3 here (Müller was a
noted scholar of English literature), or to a physical
phenomenon known as parhelion, whereby refraction of
light by ice crystals in the cloud produces images of the
sun on either side of it. But it is surely more in keeping with
the simplicity and directness of the poetic imagery in
Winterreise that the first two suns should symbolise the
eyes of the beloved, the third the wanderer’s own life.
In the final ‘Der Leiermann’ he makes contact with
another human being, the ancient hurdy-gurdy man, a
forlorn, tottering figure forever condemned to grind out
repeated snatches of wheezing melody. After the
protagonist’s almost compassionate address to the
old man and despairing final ‘drehn’, the strange
pair seem to recede into the frozen landscape. Whether
In its lilting 6/8 metre, ‘Täuschung’ looks back to
one sees the hurdy-gurdy man as a symbol of death,
‘Frühlingstraum’. Schubert here recycles a ballad number
or as a terrifying portent of the wanderer’s own future
from his opera Alfonso und Estrella, never performed in
existence, Schubert’s bare, numb music stands as an
the composer’s lifetime. Yet with its faux-naïf simplicity
enigmatic epitaph to this fathomlessly great cycle of
and its ironic suggestion of a Viennese waltz, it is a
‘spine-chilling songs’.
Programme note © Richard Wigmore
6
Texts and translations
Winterreise, D911
1 Gute Nacht
Fremd bin ich eingezogen,
Fremd zieh’ ich wieder aus.
Der Mai war mir gewogen
Mit manchem Blumenstrauss.
Good Night
I arrived a stranger
A stranger I depart.
May blessed me
With many a bouquet of flowers.
Das Mädchen sprach von Liebe,
Die Mutter gar von Eh’ –
Nun ist die Welt so trübe,
Der Weg gehüllt in Schnee.
The girl spoke of love,
Her mother even of marriage;
Now the world is so desolate,
The path concealed beneath snow.
Ich kann zu meiner Reisen
Nicht wählen mit der Zeit;
Muss selbst den Weg mir weisen
In dieser Dunkelheit.
I cannot choose the time
For my journey;
I must find my own way
In this darkness.
Es zieht ein Mondenschatten
Als mein Gefährte mit,
Und auf den weissen Matten
Such’ ich des Wildes Tritt.
A shadow thrown by the moon
Is my companion;
And on the white meadows
I seek the tracks of deer.
Was soll ich länger weilen,
Dass man mich trieb’ hinaus?
Lass irre Hunde heulen
Vor ihres Herren Haus!
Why should I tarry longer
And be driven out?
Let stray dogs howl
Before their master’s house.
Die Liebe liebt das Wandern,
Gott hat sie so gemacht –
Von einem zu dem andern –
Fein Liebchen, gute Nacht!
Love delights in wandering –
God made it so –
From one to another.
Beloved, good night!
Will dich im Traum nicht stören,
Wär Schad’ um deine Ruh’,
Sollst meinen Tritt nicht hören –
Sacht, sacht die Türe zu!
I will not disturb you as you dream,
It would be a shame to spoil your rest.
You shall not hear my footsteps;
Softly, softly the door is closed.
Schreib’im Vorübergehen
An’s Tor noch gute Nacht,
Damit du mögest sehen,
An dich hab’ ich gedacht.
As I pass I write
‘Good night’ on your gate,
So that you might see
That I thought of you.
7
Texts and translations
2 Die Wetterfahne
Der Wind spielt mit der Wetterfahne
Auf meines schönen Liebchens Haus.
Da dacht ich schon in meinem Wahne,
Sie pfiff den armen Flüchtling aus.
The Weather-Vane
The wind is playing with the weather-vane
On my fair sweetheart’s house.
In my delusion I thought
It was whistling to mock the poor fugitive.
Er hätt’ es eher bemerken sollen,
Des Hauses aufgestecktes Schild,
So hätt’ er nimmer suchen wollen
Im Haus ein treues Frauenbild.
He should have noticed it sooner,
This sign fixed upon the house;
Then he would never have sought
A faithful woman within that house.
Der Wind spielt drinnen mit den Herzen,
Wie auf dem Dach, nur nicht so laut.
Was fragen sie nach meinen Schmerzen?
Ihr Kind ist eine reiche Braut.
Inside the wind is playing with hearts,
As on the roof, only less loudly.
Why should they care about my grief?
Their child is a rich bride.
3 Gefrorne Tränen
Gefrorne Tropfen fallen
Von meinen Wangen ab:
Ob es mir denn entgangen,
Dass ich geweinet hab’?
Frozen Tears
Frozen drops fall
From my cheeks;
Have I, then, not noticed
That I have been weeping?
Ei Tränen, meine Tränen,
Und seid ihr gar so lau,
Dass ihr erstarrt zu Eise,
Wie kühler Morgentau?
Ah tears, my tears,
Are you so tepid
That you turn to ice,
Like the cold morning dew?
Und dringt doch aus der Quelle
Der Brust so glühend heiss,
Als wolltet ihr zerschmelzen
Des ganzen Winters Eis.
And yet you well up, so scaldingly hot,
From your source within my heart,
As if you would melt
All the ice of winter.
8
Texts and translations
4 Erstarrung
Ich such’ im Schnee vergebens
Nach ihrer Tritte Spur,
Wo sie an meinem Arme
Durchstrich die grüne Flur.
Numbness
In vain I seek
Her footprints in the snow,
Where she walked on my arm
Through the green meadows,
Ich will den Boden küssen,
Durchdringen Eis und Schnee
Mit meinen heissen Tränen,
Bis ich die Erde seh’.
I will kiss the ground
And pierce ice and snow
With my burning tears,
Until I see the earth.
Wo find’ ich eine Blüte,
Wo find’ ich grünes Gras?
Die Blumen sind erstorben
Der Rasen sieht so blass.
Where shall I find a flower?
Where shall I find green grass?
The flowers have died.
The grass looks so pale.
Soll denn kein Angedenken
Ich nehmen mit von hier?
Wenn meine Schmerzen schweigen,
Wer sagt mir dann von ihr?
Shall I, then, take
No memento from here?
When my sorrows are stilled
Who will speak to me of her?
Mein Herz ist wie erstorben,
Kalt starrt ihr Bild darin;
Schmilzt je das Herz mir wieder,
Fliesst auch ihr Bild dahin!
My heart is as dead,
Her image coldly rigid within it;
If my heart ever melts again
Her image, too, will flow away.
5 Der Lindenbaum
Am Brunnen vor dem Tore,
Da steht ein Lindenbaum;
Ich träumt in seinem Schatten
So manchen süssen Traum.
The Linden Tree
By the well, before the gate,
Stands a linden tree;
In its shade I dreamt
Many a sweet dream.
Ich schnitt in seine Rinde
So manches liebe Wort;
Es zog in Freud’ und Leide
Zu ihm mich immer fort.
In its bark I carved
Many a word of love;
In joy and sorrow
I was ever drawn to it.
Ich musst’ auch heute wandern
Vorbei in tiefer Nacht,
Da hab’ ich noch im Dunkel
Die Augen zugemacht.
Today, too, I had to walk
Past it at dead of night;
Even in the darkness
I closed my eyes.
9
Texts and translations
Und seine Zweige rauschten,
Als riefen sie mir zu:
Komm her zu mir, Geselle,
Hier find’st du deine Ruh’!
And its branches rustled.
As if they were calling to me:
‘Come to me, friend,
Here you will find rest.’
Die kalten Winde bliesen
Mir grad in’s Angesicht;
Der Hut flog mir vom Kopfe,
Ich wendete mich nicht.
The cold wind blew
Straight into my face,
My hat flew from my head;
I did not turn back.
Nun bin ich manche Stunde
Entfernt von jenem Ort,
Und immer hör’ ich’s rauschen:
Du fändest Ruhe dort!
Now I am many hours’ journey
From that place;
Yet I still hear the rustling;
‘There you would find rest.’
6 Wasserflut
Manche Trän’ aus meinen Augen
Ist gefallen in den Schnee;
Seine kalten Flocken saugen
Durstig ein das heisse Weh.
Flood
Many a tear has fallen
From my eyes into the snow
Its cold flakes eagerly suck in
My burning grief.
Wenn die Gräser sprossen wollen
Weht daher ein lauer Wind,
Und das Eis zerspringt in Schollen
Und der weiche Schnee zerrinnt.
When the grass is about to shoot forth,
A mild breeze blows;
The ice breaks up into pieces
And the soft snow melts away.
Schnee, du weisst von meinem Sehnen,
Sag’, wohin geht doch dein Lauf?
Folge nach nur meinen Tränen,
Nimmt dich bald das Bächlein auf.
Snow, you know of my longing;
Tell me, where does your path lead?
If you but follow my tears
The brook will soon absorb you.
Wirst mit ihm die Stadt durchziehen,
Muntre Strassen ein und aus;
Fühlst du meine Tränen glühen,
Da ist meiner Liebsten Haus.
With it you will flow through the town,
In and out of bustling streets;
When you feel my tears glow,
There will be my sweetheart’s house.
10
Texts and translations
7 Auf dem Flusse
Der du so lustig rauschtest,
Du heller, wilder Fluss,
Wie still bist du geworden,
Gibst keinen Scheidegruss.
On the River
You who rippled so merrily,
Clear, boisterous river,
How still you have become,
You give no parting greeting.
Mit harter, starrer Rinde
Hast du dich überdeckt,
Liegst kalt und unbeweglich
Im Sande ausgestreckt.
With a hard, rigid crust
You have covered yourself;
You lie cold and motionless
Stretched out in the sand.
In deine Decke grab’ ich
Mit einem spitzen Stein
Den Namen meiner Liebsten
Und Stund’ und Tag hinein:
On your surface I carve
With a sharp stone
The name of my beloved,
The hour and the day.
Den Tag des ersten Grusses,
Den Tag, an dem ich ging;
Um Nam’ und Zahlen windet
Sich ein zerbroch’ner Ring.
The day of our first greeting,
The day I departed.
Around name and figures
A broken ring is entwined.
Mein Herz, in diesem Bache
Erkennst du nun dein Bild?
Ob’s unter seiner Rinde
Wohl auch so reissend schwillt?
My heart, do you now recognise
Your image in this brook?
Is there not beneath its crust
Likewise a seething torrent?
8 Rückblick
Es brennt mir unter beiden Sohlen,
Tret’ ich auch schon auf Eis und Schnee,
Ich möcht’ nicht wieder Atem holen,
Bis ich nicht mehr die Türme seh’.
Backward glance
The souls of my feet are burning,
Though I walk on ice and snow;
I do not wish to draw breath again
Until I can no longer see the towers.
Hab’ mich an jeden Stein gestossen,
So eilt’ ich zu der Stadt hinaus;
Die Krähen warfen Bäll’ und Schlossen
Auf meinen Hut von jedem Haus.
I tripped on every stone,
Such was my hurry to leave the town;
The crows threw snowballs and hailstones
On to my hat from every house.
Wie anders hast du mich empfangen,
Du Stadt der Unbeständigkeit!
An deinen blanken Fenstern sangen
Die Lerch’ und Nachtigall im Streit.
How differently you received me.
Town of inconstancy!
At your shining windows
Lark and nightingale sang in rivalry.
11
Texts and translations
Die runden Lindenbäume blühten,
Die klaren Rinnen rauschten hell,
Und ach, zwei Mädchenaugen glühten. –
Da war’s gescheh’n um dich, Gesell!
The round linden trees blossomed,
The clear fountains plashed brightly,
And, ah, a maiden’s eyes glowed;
Then, friend, your fate was sealed.
Kommt mir der Tag in die Gedanken,
Möcht’ ich noch einmal rückwärts seh’n,
Möcht’ ich zurücke wieder wanken,
Vor ihrem Hause stille stehn.
When that day comes to my mind
I should like to look back once more,
And stumble back
To stand before her house.
9 Irrlicht
In die tiefsten Felsengründe
Lockte mich ein Irrlicht hin:
Wie ich einen Ausgang finde,
Liegt nicht schwer mir in dem Sinn.
Will-o’-the-Wisp
A will-o’-the-wisp enticed me
Into the deepest rocky chasms;
How I shall find a way out
Does not trouble my mind.
Bin gewohnt das Irregehen,
‘S führt ja jeder Weg zum Ziel:
Unsre Freuden, unsre Leiden,
Alles eines Irrlichts Spiel!
I am used to straying
Every path leads to one goal;
Our joys, our sorrows –
All are a will-o’-the-wisp’s game.
Durch des Bergstroms trock’ne Rinnen
Wind’ ich ruhig mich hinab –
Jeder Strom wird’s Meer gewinnen,
Jedes Leiden auch sein Grab.
Down the dry gullies of the mountain stream
I calmly wend my way;
Every river will reach the sea,
Every sorrow, too, will reach its grave.
10 Rast
Nun merk’ ich erst, wie müd’ ich bin,
Da ich zur Ruh’ mich lege;
Das Wandern hielt mich munter hin
Auf unwirtbarem Wege.
Rest
Only now, as I lie down to rest,
Do I notice how tired I am.
Walking kept me cheerful
On the inhospitable road.
Die Füsse frugen nicht nach Rast,
Es war zu kalt zum Stehen;
Der Rücken fühlte keine Last,
Der Sturm half fort mich wehen.
My feet did not seek rest,
It was too cold to stand still;
My back felt no burden,
The storm helped to blow me onwards.
In eines Köhlers engem Haus
Hab’ Obdach ich gefunden;
Doch meine Glieder ruhn nicht aus:
So brennen ihre Wunden.
In a charcoal-burner’s cramped cottage
I found shelter.
But my limbs cannot rest,
Their wounds burn so.
12
Texts and translations
Auch du, mein Herz, in Kampf und Sturm
So wild und so verwegen,
Fühlst in der Still’ erst deinen Wurm
Mit heissem Stich sich regen!
You, too, my heart, so wild and daring
In battle and tempest;
In this calm you now feel the stirring of your serpent,
With its fierce sting.
11 Frühlingstraum
Ich träumte von bunten Blumen,
So wie sie wohl blühen im Mai;
Ich träumte von grünen Wiesen,
Von lustigem Vogelgeschrei.
Dream of Spring
I dreamt of bright flowers
That blossom in May;
I dreamt of green meadows
And merry bird-calls.
Und als die Hähne krähten,
Da ward mein Auge wach;
Da war es kalt und finster,
Es schrieen die Raben vom Dach.
And when the cocks crowed
My eyes awoke;
It was cold and dark,
Ravens cawed from the roof.
Doch an den Fensterscheiben,
Wer malte die Blätter da?
Ihr lacht wohl über den Träumer,
Der Blumen im Winter sah?
But there, on the window panes,
Who had painted the leaves?
Are you laughing at the dreamer
Who saw flowers in winter?
Ich träumte von Lieb’ um Liebe,
Von einer schönen Maid,
Von Herzen und von Küssen,
Von Wonne und Seligkeit.
I dreamt of mutual love,
Of a lovely maiden,
Of embracing and kissing,
Of joy and rapture.
Und als die Hähne kräten,
Da ward mein Herze wach;
Nun sitz ich hier alleine
Und denke dem Traume nach.
And when the cocks crowed
My heart awoke;
Now I sit here alone
And reflect upon my dream.
Die Augen schliess’ ich wieder,
Noch schlägt das Herz so warm.
Wann grünt ihr Blätter am Fenster?
Wann halt’ ich mein Liebchen im Arm?
I close my eyes again,
My heart still beats so warmly
Leaves on my window, when will you turn green?
When shall I hold my love in my arms?
13
Texts and translations
12 Einsamkeit
Wie eine trübe Wolke
Durch heitre Lüfte geht,
Wenn in der Tanne Wipfel
Ein mattes Lüftchen weht:
Loneliness
As a dark cloud
Drifts through clear skies,
When a faint breeze blows
In the fir-tops;
So zieh’ ich meine Strasse
Dahin mit trägem Fuss,
Durch helles, frohes Leben,
Einsam und ohne Gruss.
Thus I go on my way,
With weary steps, through
Bright, joyful life,
Alone, greeted by no one.
Ach, dass die Luft so ruhig!
Ach, dass die Welt so licht!
Als noch die Stürme tobten,
War ich so elend nicht.
Alas, that the air is so calm!
Alas, that the world is so bright!
When storms were still raging
I was not so wretched.
13 Die Post
Von der Strasse her ein Posthorn klingt.
Was hat es, dass es so hoch aufspringt,
Mein Herz?
The Post
A posthorn sounds from the road.
Why is it that you leap so high,
My heart?
Die Post bringt keinen Brief für dich.
Was drängst du denn so wunderlich,
Mein Herz?
The post brings no letter for you.
Why, then, do you surge so strangely,
My heart?
Nun ja, die Post kommt aus der Stadt,
Wo ich ein liebes Liebchen hatt’,
Mein Herz!
But yes, the post comes from the town
Where I once had a beloved sweetheart,
My heart!
Willst wohl einmal hinübersehn
Und fragen, wie es dort mag gehn,
Mein Herz?
Do you want to peep out
And ask how things are there,
My heart?
14
Texts and translations
14 Der greise Kopf
Der Reif hat einen weissen Schein
Mir über’s Haar gestreuet;
Da glaubt’ ich schon ein Greis zu sein
Und hab’ mich sehr gefreuet.
The Grey Head
The frost has sprinkled a white sheen
Upon my hair;
I thought I was already an old man,
And I rejoiced.
Doch bald ist er hinweggetaut,
Hab’ wieder schwarze Haare,
Dass mir’s vor meiner Jugend graut –
Wie weit noch bis zur Bahre!
But soon it melted away;
Once again I have black hair,
So that I shudder at my youth.
How far it is still to the grave!
Vom Abendrot zum Morgenlicht
Ward mancher Kopf zum Greise.
Wer glaubt’s? Und meiner ward es nicht
Auf dieser ganzen Reise!
Between sunset and the light of morning
Many a head has turned grey.
Who will believe it? Mine has not done so
Throughout this whole journey.
15 Die Krähe
Eine Krähe war mit mir
Aus der Stadt gezogen,
Ist bis heute für und für
Um mein Haupt geflogen.
The Crow
A crow has come with me
From the town,
And to this day
Has been flying ceaselessly about my head.
Krähe, wunderliches Tier,
Willst mich nicht verlassen?
Meinst wohl bald als Beute hier
Meinen Leib zu fassen?
Crow, you strange creature,
Will you not leave me?
Do you intend soon
To seize my body as prey?
Nun, es wird nicht weit mehr gehn
An dem Wanderstabe.
Krähe, lass mich endlich sehn,
Treue bis zum Grabe!
Well, I do not have much further to walk
With my staff.
Crow, let me at last see
Faithfulness unto the grave.
16 Letzte Hoffnung
Hie und da ist an den Bäumen
Manches bunte Blatte zu sehn,
Und ich bleibe vor den Bäumen
Oftmals in Gedanken stehn.
Last Hope
Here and there on the trees
Many a coloured leaf can still be seen.
I often stand, lost in thought,
Before those trees.
Schaue nach dem einen Blatte,
Hänge meine Hoffnung dran;
Spielt der Wind mit meinem Blatte,
Zitt’r’ ich, was ich zittern kann.
I look at one such leaf
And hang my hopes upon it;
If the wind plays with my leaf
I tremble to the depths of my being.
15
Texts and translations
Ach, und fällt das Blatt zu Boden,
Fällt mit ihm die Hoffnung ab;
Fall’ ich selber mit zu Boden,
Wein’ auf meiner Hoffnung Grab.
Ah, and if the leaf falls to the ground
My hopes fall with it;
I, too, fall to the ground
And weep on the grave of my hopes.
17 Im Dorfe
Es bellen die Hunde, es rasseln die Ketten;
Es schlafen die Menschen in ihren Betten,
Träumen sich manches, was sie nicht haben,
Tun sich im Guten und Argen erlaben;
In the Village
Dogs bark, chains rattle;
People sleep in their beds,
Dreaming of many a thing they do not possess,
Consoling themselves with the good and the bad.
Und morgen früh ist Alles zerflossen.
Je nun, sie haben ihr Teil genossen,
Und hoffen, was sie noch übrig liessen,
Doch wieder zu finden auf ihren Kissen.
And tomorrow morning all will have vanished.
Well, they have enjoyed their share,
And hope to find on their pillows
What they still have left to savour.
Bellt mich nur fort, ihr wachen Hunde,
Lasst mich nicht ruhn in der Schlummerstunde!
Ich bin zu Ende mit allen Träumen.
Was will ich unter den Schläfern säumen?
Drive me away with your barking, watchful dogs,
Allow me no rest in this hour of sleep!
I am finished with all dreams;
Why should I linger among slumberers?
18 Der stürmische Morgen
Wie hat der Sturm zerrissen
Des Himmels graues Kleid!
Die Wolkenfetzen flattern
Umher im mattem Streit.
The Stormy Morning
How the storm has torn apart
The grew mantle of the sky!
Tattered clouds fly about
In weary conflict.
Und rote Feuerflammen
Ziehn zwischen ihnen hin;
Das nenn’ ich einen Morgen
So recht nach meinem Sinn!
And red flames
Dart between them.
This is what I call
A morning after my own heart.
Mein Herz sieht an dem Himmel
Gemalt sein eig’nes Bild –
Es ist nichts als der Winter,
Der Winter, kalt und wild!
My heart sees its own image
Painted in the sky –
It is nothing but winter,
Winter, cold and savage.
16
Texts and translations
19 Täuschung
Ein Licht tanzt freundlich vor mir her,
Ich folg’ ihm nach die Kreuz und Quer;
Ich folg’ ihm gern und seh’s ihm an,
Dass es verlockt den Wandersmann.
Ach! wer wie ich so elend ist,
Gibt gern sich hin der bunten List,
Die hinter Eis und Nacht und Graus
Ihm weist ein helles, warmes Haus.
Und eine liebe Seele drin –
Nur Täuschung ist für mich Gewinn!
Illusion
A light dances cheerfully before me,
I follow it this way and that;
I follow it gladly, knowing
That it lures the wanderer.
Ah, a man as wretched as I
Gladly yields to the beguiling gleam
That reveals to him, beyond ice, night and terror,
A bright, warm house,
And a beloved soul within.
Even mere delusion is a boon to me!
20 Der Wegweiser
Was vermeid’ ich denn die Wege,
Wo die ander’n Wandrer gehn,
Suche mir versteckte Stege
Durch verschneite Felsenhöhn?
The Signpost
Why do I avoid the roads
That other travellers take,
And seek hidden paths
Over the rocky, snow-clad heights?
Habe ja doch nichts begangen,
Dass ich Menschen sollte scheun, –
Welch ein törichtes Verlangen
Treibt mich in die Wüstenein?
Yet I have done no wrong,
That I should shun mankind.
What foolish yearning
Drives me into the wilderness?
Weiser stehen auf den Wegen,
Weisen auf die Städte zu,
Und ich wandre sonder Massen
Ohne Ruh’, und suche Ruh’.
Signposts stand on the roads,
Pointing towards the towns;
And I wander on, relentlessly,
restless, and yet seeking rest.
Einen Weiser seh ich stehen
Unverrückt vor meinem Blick;
Eine Strasse muss ich gehen,
Die noch Keiner ging zurück.
I see a signpost standing
Immovable before my eyes;
I must travel a road
From which no man has ever returned.
17
Texts and translations
21 Das Wirtshaus
Auf einen Totenacker
Hat mich mein Weg gebracht.
Allhier will ich einkehren,
Hab’ ich bei mir gedacht.
The Inn
My journey has brought me
To a graveyard.
Here, I thought to myself,
I will rest for the night.
Ihr grünen Totenkränze
Könnt wohl die Zeichen sein,
Die müde Wandrer laden
In’s kühle Wirtshaus ein.
Green funeral wreaths,
You must be the signs
Inviting tired travellers
Into the cool inn.
Sind denn in diesem Hause
Die Kammern all’ besetzt?
Bin matt zum Niedersinken
Bin tödlich schwer verletzt.
Are all the rooms
In this house taken, then?
I am weary to the point of collapse,
I am fatally wounded.
O unbarmherz’ge Schenke,
Doch weisest du mich ab?
Nun weiter denn, nur weiter,
Mein treuer Wanderstab!
Pitiless tavern,
Do you nonetheless turn me away?
On, then, press onwards,
My trusty staff!
22 Mut
Fliegt der Schnee mir in’s Gesicht,
Schüttl’ ich ihn herunter.
Wenn mein Herz im Busen spricht,
Sing’ ich hell und munter.
Courage
When the snow flies in my face
I shake it off.
When my heart speaks in my breast
I sing loudly and merrily.
Höre nicht, was es mir sagt,
Habe keine Ohren;
Fühle nicht, was es mir klagt,
Klagen ist für Toren.
I do not hear what it tells me,
I have no ears;
I do not feel what it laments,
Lamenting is for fools.
Lustig in die Welt hinein
Gegen Wind und Wetter!
Will kein Gott auf Erden sein,
Sind wir selber Götter!
Cheerfully out into the world,
Against wind and storm!
If there is no God on earth,
Then we ourselves are gods!
18
Texts and translations
23 Die Nebensonnen
Drei Sonnen sah ich am Himmel stehn,
Hab’ lang und fest sie angesehn;
Und sie auch standen da so stier,
Als wollten sie nicht weg von mir.
Ach, meine Sonnen seid ihr nicht!
Schaut Andren doch ins Angesicht!
Ja, neulich hatt’ ich auch wohl drei;
Nun sind hinab die besten zwei.
Ging’ nur die dritt’ erst hinterdrein!
Im Dunkeln wird mir wohler sein.
The Mock Suns
I saw three suns in the sky;
I gazed at them long and intently.
And they, too, stood there so fixedly,
As if unwilling to leave me.
Alas, you are not my suns!
Gaze into other people’s faces!
Yes, not long ago I, too, had three suns;
Now the two best have set.
If only the third would follow,
I should feel happier in the dark.
24 Der Leiermann
Drüben hinter’m Dorfe
Steht ein Leiermann
Und mit starren Fingern
Dreht er, was er kann.
The Organ-Grinder
There, before the village,
Stands an organ-grinder;
With numb fingers
He plays as best he can.
Barfuss auf dem Eise
Schwankt er hin und her,
Und sein kleiner Teller
Bleibt ihm immer leer.
Barefoot on the ice
He totters to and fro,
And his little plate
Remains forever empty.
Keiner mag ihn hören,
Keiner sieht ihn an,
Und die Hunde knurren
Um den alten Mann.
No one wants to listen,
No one looks at him,
And the dogs growl
Around the old man.
Und er lässt es gehen
Alles, wie es will,
Dreht und seine Leier
Steht ihm nimmer still.
And he lets everything go on
As it will;
He plays, and his hurdy-gurdy
Never stops.
Wunderlicher Alter,
Soll ich mit dir gehn?
Willst zu meinen Liedern
Deine Leier drehn?
Strange old man,
Shall I go with you?
Will you grind your hurdy-gurdy?
To my songs?
Wilhelm Müller (1794–1827)
Translation © Richard Wigmore, reproduced with kind
permission from Victor Gollancz Ltd.
19
About the performers
Ian Bostridge was a postdoctoral fellow in history at
Corpus Christi College,
Oxford, before embarking on
a full-time career as a singer.
His recital appearances
include the world’s major
concert halls and the
Salzburg, Edinburgh, Munich,
Vienna, Aldeburgh and
Schubertiade festivals. In
1999 he premiered a songcycle written for him by Hans Werner Henze. In 2003/4
he held artistic residencies at the Vienna Konzerthaus
and the Schubertiade Schwarzenberg; in 2004/5 he
shared a Carte-Blanche series with Thomas Quasthoff
at the Amsterdam Concertgebouw; and in 2005/6 he
had his own ‘Perspectives’ series at Carnegie Hall and
this year at the Vienna Konzerthaus and here at the
Barbican.
He made his operatic debut in 1994 as Lysander in
Britten’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream with Opera
Australia at the Edinburgh International Festival. In 1996
he made his debut for English National Opera as
Tamino, returning for Jupiter in Semele. In 1997 he sang
Quint in Britten’s The Turn of the Screw for the Royal
Opera, Covent Garden, and has since returned for
Caliban in Thomas Adès’s The Tempest, Don Ottavio in
Don Giovanni and Vašek in The Bartered Bride. In 1998
he made his debut at the Munich Festival, singing
Nerone in L’incoronazione di Poppea, returning for
Tom Rakewell in The Rake’s Progress and the Male
Chorus in The Rape of Lucretia. He sang Janáček’s
Diary of One who Disappeared in a new translation by
Seamus Heaney, staged in London, Paris, Munich,
Amsterdam and New York. Most recently he sang Don
Ottavio for the Vienna State Opera and Aschenbach in
Death in Venice for English National Opera.
His award-winning recordings range from Bach to Noel
Coward, including Lieder by Schubert, Schumann, Wolf
and Henze, vocal works by Thomas Adès, Britten and
Janáček and operas by Mozart, Britten and Stravinsky.
20
Mitsuko Uchida
piano
Mitsuko Uchida is particularly
renowned for her
interpretations of Mozart and
Schubert, as well as of the
Second Viennese School and
Boulez and, most recently,
late Beethoven sonatas.
Richard Avedon
Sheila Rock/EMI Classics
Ian Bostridge
tenor
This season she is artist-inresidence with the Berlin
Philharmonic Orchestra and
at the Vienna Konzerthaus
and the Salzburg Mozartwoche. She will appear with
the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, the Cleveland
Orchestra and the Vienna and New York Philharmonic
orchestras, tour with the Chamber Orchestra of Europe
and the Philharmonia Orchestra. She will give recitals at
Carnegie Hall and the Royal Festival Hall, and perform
at the Salzburg Festival.
Previous highlights have included an artistic residency
with the Cleveland Orchestra in which she directed the
complete Mozart piano concertos from the keyboard, a
‘Perspectives’ series at Carnegie Hall and participation
in the Concertgebouw’s ‘Carte Blanche’ series, as
well as collaborations with Ian Bostridge and the
Hagen Quartet.
Her extensive award-winning discography includes the
complete piano sonatas and concertos of Mozart, a
Schubert sonata cycle, Debussy’s Études, Beethoven’s
piano concertos with Kurt Sanderling, a CD of Mozart
violin sonatas with Mark Steinberg, Schubert’s Die
schöne Müllerin with Ian Bostridge and Beethoven’s last
five piano sonatas. A new recording of Berg’s Chamber
Concerto with Christian Tetzlaff, Pierre Boulez and the
Ensemble Intercontemporain has just been released.
Mitsuko Uchida has a longstanding commitment to the
development of young musicians and is a trustee of the
Borletti-Buitoni Trust and Co-director, with Richard
Goode, of the Marlboro Music Festival.