Richard Strauss (1864-1949) Four Last Songs First performance
Transcription
Richard Strauss (1864-1949) Four Last Songs First performance
Richard Strauss (1864-1949) Four Last Songs First performance: May 22, 1950, Philharmonia Orchestra, London, Wilhelm Furtwängler cond., Kirsten Flagstad, soprano. First Tanglewood performance: August 24, 1979, New York Philharmonic, Zubin Mehta cond., Montserrat Caballé, soprano. First BSO performance: July 8, 1983, Tanglewood, Seiji Ozawa cond., Leontyne Price, soprano. Most recent Tanglewood performance: July 31, 2010, Juanjo Mena cond., Hei-Kyung Hong, soloist. In 1947, when Strauss made the first sketches for Im Abendrot, he went to London, where Sir Thomas Beecham had organized a festival of his music. At a press conference a young reporter asked the eighty-three-year-old composer about his plans for the future. “Oh,” said Strauss, never one to waste words, “to die.” Not quite two years later he realized that plan, remarking to his daughter-in-law that death was just the way he had composed it at twenty-five in his tone poem Death and Transfiguration. But first there was work to be done—the composition of a DuetConcertino for clarinet, bassoon, and orchestra, and the writing of five songs.* The world in which he had grown up and in whose artistic life he had played such a prominent part had collapsed about him. He was in poor health, tired, discouraged, but when he read Im Abendrot (At Evening Glow) by the Romantic poet von Eichendorff, he was deeply moved. Its description of an old couple who have, hand in hand, traversed sorrow and joy, and who are now looking at what is perhaps death, perfectly fit the Strausses’ own situation in the fifty-fourth year of their marriage. To his Eichendorff song, which alludes softly to Death and Transfiguration in its last bars, he added three songs to verses by Hermann Hesse—no less inspired than Im Abendrot, particularly Beim Schlafengehen (Upon Going to Sleep), in which a poem of three stanzas becomes a song with four, the third, wordless one being sung by a solo violin. Pauline Strauss, the composer’s wife, had been a renowned soprano in her youth, and the sound of the soprano voice was the one sound Richard loved even more than that of the French horn. Like his father, Franz Strauss, the horn player, Pauline, the soprano, was difficult, but her husband loved her steadfastly and he said so in many of his compositions. All the lovely soprano lines he wrote are one unending love song to her, and Im Abendrot—but indeed the whole set of four songs—is the last of these love letters. MICHAEL STEINBERG Michael Steinberg was program annotator of the Boston Symphony Orchestra from 1976 to 1979, and after that of the San Francisco Symphony and New York Philharmonic. Oxford University Press has published three compilations of his program notes, devoted to symphonies, concertos, and works for chorus and orchestra. * Five? Yes: Strauss kept and orchestrated four songs, the ones now known as the Four Last (not his title, of course), but sent a fifth, with piano accompaniment only, to Maria Jeritza, the Czech soprano who had sung so gloriously in many of his operas. Jeritza, who, concealed behind her married name, is also the dedicatee of September, kept that fifth song, Malven (Mallows), to herself, and it came to light only after her death in 1982. RICHARD STRAUSS Four Last Songs Frühling Spring In dämmrigen Grüften Träumte ich lang Von deinem Bäumen und blauen Lüften, Von deinem Duft und Vogelsang. In dusk-dim vaults I’ve long dreamed of your trees and blue skies, of your fragrance and bird-song. Nun liegst du erschlossen In Gleis und Zier, Von Licht übergossen Wie ein Wunder vor mir. Now you are revealed, glittering, adorned, bathed in light like a miracle before me. Du kennst mich wieder, Du lockst mich zart, Es zittert durch all meine Glieder Deine selige Gegenwart! You know me once again, you beckon to me tenderly, your blessed presence sets all my limbs trembling! Hermann Hesse September September Der Garten trauert, Kühl sinkt in die Blumen der Regen. Der Sommer schauert Still seinem Ende entgegen. The garden mourns, the cooling rain falls upon the flowers. The summer shudders, silently facing his end. Golden tropft Blatt um Blatt Nieder vom hohen Akazienbaum. Sommer lächelt erstaunt und matt In den sterbenden Gartentraum. Lange noch bei den Rosen Bleibt er stehn, sehnt sich nach Ruh. Langsam tut er die Müdgeword’nen Augen zu. Leaf after golden leaf drops down from the high acacia tree. Summer, surprised and weak, smiles at the fading garden-dream. Yet he lingers still, among the roses, yearning for rest. Slowly he closes his wearied eyes. Hermann Hesse Beim Schlafengehen Upon Going to Sleep Nun der Tag mich müd gemacht, Soll mein sehnliches Verlangen Freundlich die gestirnte Nacht Wie ein müdes Kind empfangen. Now the day has made me weary: let the starry night gather up my ardent longings, lovingly, as it would a tired child. Hände, lasst von allem Tun, Stirn vergiss du alles Denken, Alle meine Sinne nun Wollen sich in Schlummer senken. Hands, leave off all your toil, mind, put aside all your thoughts: all my senses long to settle, now, into slumber. Und die Seele unbewacht, Will in freien Flügen schweben, Um im Zauberkreis der Nacht Tief und tausendfach zu leben. And the soul, unencumbered, wants to soar in free flight into night’s magic realm, to live deeply, a thousandfold. Hermann Hesse Im Abendrot At Sunset Wir sind durch Not und Freude Gegangen Hand in Hand: Vom Wandern ruhen wir Nun überm stillen Land. Through pain and joy we’ve traveled hand in hand; let’s rest from wandering, now, above the quiet land. Rings sich die Täler neigen, Es dunkelt schon die Luft, Zwei Lerchen nur noch steigen Nachträumend in den Duft. Around us the valleys are waning, already the sky is darkening, yet, still, two larks, dream-seeking, soar upward into the air. Tritt her und lass sie schwirren, Bald ist es Schlafenszeit, Dass wir uns nicht verirren In dieser Einsamkeit. Step close and let them fly, it’s nearly time for sleep: lest we lose our way in this solitude. O weiter, stiller Friede! So tief im Abendrot. Wie sind wir wandermüde— Ist dies etwa der Tod? O spacious, silent peace, so deep in evening’s glow! How travel-weary we are— Could this perhaps be death? Josef von Eichendorff trans. Marc Mandel German texts set to music by Richard Strauss copyright Boosey & Hawkes, Inc., ©1950, renewed 1977.