Notes on the Program

By Richard Stokes

FRANZ SCHUBERT
Born in Vienna, 1797
Died in Vienna, 1828

Schwanengesang (1828)

Schwanengesang (Swan Song) was the title invented by Tobias Haslinger when he published 14 of Schubert’s late songs in the spring of 1829: seven settings of texts by Ludwig Rellstab, six of Heinrich Heine and one of Johann Gabriel Seidl. Beethoven’s “An die ferne Geliebte” (“To the Distant Beloved”), published in 1816, had made an impression on Schubert and when, after the composer’s death, he received the portfolio of Rellstab poems that Beethoven had wanted to set, he created his tribute: the seven Rellstab poems from Schwanengesang all have the distant beloved as their central theme. The order of Konstantin Krimmel’s performance differs from that of Schubert’s original version.

“Liebesbotschaft” (“Love’s Message”) begins in G Major, and then passes through E Minor, C Major, A Minor, F Major and B, as though Schubert wished to illustrate the distance between the lovers by the multiplicity of keys: the rippling semiquavers might provide a formal unity to the song, but the lovers remain apart. In “Frühlingssehnsucht” (“Spring Longing”) it is the whispering breezes that initially become the medium for the poet’s message to his distant beloved. The difficulty facing Schubert was finding an accompaniment that would also fit the imagery of the four subsequent verses, in which babbling brooks, sunlight, bursting buds, and longing are requested to act as the poet’s messengers — a problem the composer solved with his ubiquitous triplets. The poem ends with a passionate question and answer: “Who shall finally quell my longing? / Only you can set free the spring in my heart, / Only you!” Though the poet’s “Nur du!” is repeated four times, the last two to an ff dynamic, there is no final flourish; instead, the broken B-flat Major chords limp to a close with a suggestion of E-flat Minor, as we realize that the poet is alone. A similar melancholy informs Ständchen, the most celebrated serenade in all music. The song might begin brightly enough, with staccato quavers that suggest a plectrum-plucked guitar (they only appear in the four-bar prelude, but the staccato marking should be observed throughout), the key, however, is minor and all four verses are touched with a sense of vulnerability.

In “Abschied,” (“Farewell”), the lover has recovered sufficiently to control his grief. The song is marked mäßig geschwind (moderately fast). which means that he does not leave the town at breakneck speed, as some singers and pianists insist. Nor is this a merry farewell. The last verse, in particular, is full of foreboding — the stars are commanded to “veil themselves in grey,” and the jilted lover tells us that he has been forced to leave the town: “Darf ich hier nicht weilen, muß hier vorbei” — the italics are Rellstab’s. “In der Ferne” (“Far Away”) presents us with an emotional wreck — his distressed and depressed mental state is wonderfully conveyed by Schubert at the end of the first verse, where the vocal line plunges a fifth on the repeated “Wegen nach” (“No blessing follows him on his way”). Though the song ends in a fortissimo crescendo, the final ffz tells us that there can be no solace or cure. “Aufenthalt” (“Resting Place”) is an anguished outpouring in which the lover expresses his torment in E Minor, Schubert’s key of sadness and depression. “Kriegers Ahnung” (“Warrior’s Foreboding”) begins with nine bars of muffled drums, as we are introduced to the soldier who, billeted with his comrades on a battlefield, dreams of his beloved in the knowledge that his imminent death will prevent them ever meeting again — the conclusion we must draw from the five times repeated “Herzliebste, gute Nacht!”

Schubert ended Schwanengesang with a setting of a poem by Johann Gabriel Seidl (“Die Taubenpost” / “Pigeon Post”), and we now hear a group of five Seidl settings. “Sehnsucht” (“Longing”) with its cold rush of triplets and D Minor shifts to D Major, anticipates “Erstarrung” (“Numbness”) from Winterreise, composed the following year. Schubert marks “Bei dir allein!” (“With You Alone!”) as “Nicht zu geschwind, doch feurig,” and it is precisely this “fiery” quality that is conveyed by the driving triplet figure. “Der Wanderer an den Mond” (“The Wanderer Addresses the Moon”) contrasts the wanderer’s sad lot with the moon’s serenity, minor contrasts with major, strongly accented chords. “Das Zügenglöcklein” describes the ringing of a small funeral bell, the “passing bell” of the title that used to be found in every Austrian Catholic church, rung only when one of its parishioners was known to be dying. A single note rings out incessantly in the accompaniment — E-flat in Schubert’s original key — symbolically calling the dying man to rest. The final verse praises the gift of friendship, a theme of many Schubert Lieder. “Die Taubenpost” must have been set from manuscript, since it does not appear in the two-volume edition of Seidl’s verse published in 1826. No Schubert song better demonstrates his delight in life and the bittersweet magic of his melodies.

The Heine songs from Schwanengesang, which continue the theme of unhappy love, are performed on this program in the order in which they appear in his Lyrisches Intermezzo. “Das Fischermädchen” (“The Fishermaiden”) is not the blithe barcarolle it is sometimes claimed to be: the abrupt shift from C-flat to B-flat in the second stanza and the repetition of the final word of each verse as a slurred seventh successfully convey the irony of Heine’s verse. The serene diatonic opening of “Am Meer” (“By the Sea”) is followed by a tormented, chromatic stanza whose tremolando chords depict the rising tide, the mist, and the grief. Heine’s bitter last line is caught to perfection by Schubert’s slow turn on “Tränen.” The bleakness of “Ihr Bild” (“Her Likeness”) is achieved in a mere 36 bars — a distillation of despair conveyed by bare octaves and a modulation at “ihre Lippen” from B Minor to G-flat Major, providing an illusory solace that is immediately dashed as minor reasserts itself. The short prelude of “Die Stadt” (“The Town”) repeats in the bass the bare octaves of “Ihr Bild,” while the scurrying diminished sevenths of the pianist’s right hand convey, 17 times, the gusting wind — without resolution. A lonely low C on the piano brings the chilling song to a close. “Der Doppelgänger” (“The Wraith”) is the bleakest song — or rather declamation — in Schubert. The resemblance between the four-note theme of the opening bars to the Agnus Dei of Schubert’s E-flat Mass, composed in June of the same year, tells us which way the composer’s thoughts were turning. His art, with this intensely dramatic declamation, was shifting prophetically towards Wagner and Wolf. “Der Atlas” calls for a dynamic range from pp to fff to express the suffering of Atlas, who fought for the Titans against Zeus, was defeated and condemned to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.

— Richard Stokes © 2025