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On SaleHelsinki Recital / Karita Mattila
SACD$18.99$14.99Ondine
Apr 30, 2003ODE 1100-5 -
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The Irresistible Karita Mattila
$13.99CDOndine
Apr 27, 2010ODE 1171-2 -
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On SaleFever / Karita Mattila
CD$18.99$14.99Ondine
Oct 23, 2003ODE 1105-2 -
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On SaleExcellence - Artistry of Karita Mattila
CD$18.99$14.99Ondine
Aug 30, 2000ODE 1054-2 -
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Karita Mattila Sings Soprano Arias / Vänskä, Lahti Chamber Ensemble
$19.99CDOndine
Dec 11, 2008ODE792 -
Sibelius: The Seven Symphonies, Etc / Järvi, Gothenburg So
$44.99CDBIS
Mar 01, 1993BIS-CD-622-24 -
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From the Heart of Finland / Karita Mattila
$18.99CDOndine
Oct 16, 1992ODE 892-2 -
VERDI: DON CARLOS
$24.64CDERATO
May 04, 2018EAO570771.2 -
On SaleSaariaho: Emilie Suite; Quatre Instants; Terra Memoria
CD$18.99$14.99Ondine
Jan 13, 2015ODE 1255-2 -
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On SaleSaariaho: Notes On Light, Orion, Mirage / Mattila, Karttunen, Eschenbach
CD$18.99$14.99Ondine
Sep 02, 2004ODE 1130-2 -
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On SaleThe Complete Songs of Fauré, Vol. 4 / Martineau, Davies et al.
CD$19.99$14.99Signum Classics
Jul 09, 2021SIGCD681 -
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On SaleCanteloube: Chants d'Auvergne / Sampson, Rophé, Tapiola Sinfonietta
SACD$21.99$15.99BIS
Sep 03, 2021BIS-2513 -
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Wagner: Die Meistersinger Von Nürnberg / Reiner, Schöffler
$58.99CDOrfeo
Sep 16, 2005ORF-C667054 -
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Schumann: Szenen aus Goethes Faust / Gerhaher, Karg, Harding
$29.99CDBR Klassik
Oct 14, 2014900122 -
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Essential Highlights of Jorma Hynninen
$18.99CDOndine
Apr 27, 2010ODE 253-2D
Helsinki Recital / Karita Mattila
Ondine
Available as
SACD
Helsinki Recital: Karita Mattila (Live)
The Irresistible Karita Mattila
Ondine
Available as
CD
$13.99
Apr 27, 2010
The Irresistible Karita Mattila
Fever / Karita Mattila
Ondine
Available as
CD
Classical Music
Excellence - Artistry of Karita Mattila
Ondine
Available as
CD
Classical Music
Karita Mattila Sings Soprano Arias / Vänskä, Lahti Chamber Ensemble
Ondine
Available as
CD
$19.99
Dec 11, 2008
KARITA MATTILA - KAIPAINEN, ME
Sibelius: The Seven Symphonies, Etc / Järvi, Gothenburg So
BIS
Available as
CD
$44.99
Mar 01, 1993
Classical Music
From the Heart of Finland / Karita Mattila
Ondine
Available as
CD
$18.99
Oct 16, 1992
Classical Music
VERDI: DON CARLOS
ERATO
Available as
CD
$24.64
May 04, 2018
VERDI: DON CARLOS
Saariaho: Emilie Suite; Quatre Instants; Terra Memoria
Ondine
Available as
CD
Helsinki–born Parisian Kaija Saariaho’s music sounds like little else, its kaleidoscopic magic evoking Debussy refracted into the twenty-first century. This album includes the ghostly Terra memoria for string orchestra, expanded from a chamber original for the Emerson String Quartet. The beautifully scored vocal suite from Emilie, a 2011 one-woman opera about pioneering eighteenth-century scientist Emilie du Châtelet, will appeal to those beguiled by Saariaho’s dazzling first opera, L’Amour de loin (the works share a librettist, too, French-Lebanese poet Amin Maalouf). One can’t imagine the high-flying vocal role’s originator, Finnish diva Karita Mattila, being much better than French soprano Karen Vourc’h is here, nor in the shimmering song cycle Quatre Instants, also written for Mattila.
– Bradley Bambarger, Listen Magazine
– Bradley Bambarger, Listen Magazine
Saariaho: Notes On Light, Orion, Mirage / Mattila, Karttunen, Eschenbach
Ondine
Available as
CD
A likely masterpiece from Finland joins new music from scintillating Saariaho
Kaija Saariaho is the Finnish composer, alongside Magnus Lindberg, who most excites me at present. Like her fellow countryman, she finds textures that feel absolutely fresh, vibrant and full of colour. Her journeys of imagination here are gripping. And it’s good to see such high-profile performers in new music – perhaps especially the sublime Karita Mattila.
-- Gramophone [11/2008]
SAARIAHO Notes on Light.1 Orion. Mirage1,2 • Christopher Eschenbach, cond; Anssi Karttunen (vc);1 Karita Mattila (sop);2 O de Paris • ONDINE 1130 (63:22)
Kaija Saariaho writes exciting music. At one time associated with the spectral school of composition, in which spectra, the harmonic fingerprints of sound, were used to generate new works, she’s been able to assimilate and then transcend such a purely analytical approach to arrive at her present individual, communicative language. In the past, she’s also broadened her palette with electronics. Her vivid music is characterized by an acute sense of color and texture, allied to a sure feeling for form and pacing. Melody, too, plays an important part. Although there are no big tunes to whistle, the musical flow can be lyrical, even rhapsodic. At times, an almost oriental melisma wafts through the music: at others, what I would call “proto-melodies” (four or five note phrases) accrete to form larger modules, most notably in Orion.
Notes on Light, Saariaho’s cello concerto, often projects a mysterious mood. Glissandos of varying lengths in cello and orchestra, and a line that sways and sighs as it evolves and devolves suggest a yearning, or questing aspiration. The evocative title comes from T. S. Eliot’s The Wasteland, and inspired Saariaho’s vision of the cello as a source of light. The energetic second movement stands apart from the rest, with swift, downward cascades in tuned percussion and flute mirrored by exuberant, upward-winging piccolo flurries. These effects, plus the churning cello, create a drive and momentum distinct from the slower, exploratory nature of the other four movements. That’s not to say that the rest of the concerto is placid, or without internal drama. Throughout, Saariaho skillfully deploys her “transparent” orchestra in often-delicate counterpoint to the soloist.
Orion finds Saariaho reveling in larger forces, with more brass (there are no trumpets and trombones in the concerto) and even organ: some of the climactic moments must be quite overwhelming in person. Unifying thematic elements link the three movements. A subtle pulse as Orion begins arrests the attention, drawing the listener into this “constellation” of sound. Gradually, ideas and images coalesce, until the orchestra achieves a monumental presence worthy of the young god. The volume waxes and wanes, but the overall impression is massive. The second movement’s texture is primarily diaphanous, although heavier “clouds” of sound arise before the ethereal conclusion. A piccolo plays a pastoral tune over a dreamily shimmering background, ushering in a violin solo that could be a distant cousin to Shéhérazade. This gives way to an exotic, sinuous clarinet and oboe, and so it goes, one colorful episode succeeding another. The third movement starts out like Notes on Light’s second, but becomes even more wild and tempestuous. Trumpets, swirling winds, and scintillating strings fluoresce, illuminating the orchestral landscape. The storm eventually subsides, its mass floating away, the last note struck by a single triangle.
Mirage is a passionate setting of the “song” of a Mexican woman, shaman, and healer who, in this ecstatic musical incarnation, affirms her being while summoning the forces that pass through her to effect her cures. Karita Mattila brings Saariaho’s hypnotic score to vibrant life, swooping and gliding effortlessly, imparting a palpable exaltation. From the first half-whispered “I am” one is swept up and riveted by this spellbinding performance. The cello is an equal partner in Mirage, probing at the opening, acquiring confidence, and increasing in strength until it joins with the voice in its voyage of discovery. The two dip and soar in tandem, although the melodic outline is not identical.
Mattila and Karttunen are superb musicians who are perfectly attuned to Saariaho’s style. Their long friendship with the composer guarantees informed, sympathetic performances, and it would be difficult to imagine better ones. Eschenbach and the orchestra support the soloists beautifully in Notes on Light and Mirage, and contribute stunning playing in Orion. Saariaho’s many admirers will enjoy these latest additions to her discography, while anyone who’s been afraid to dip a toe into contemporary waters should consider taking the plunge, for while undeniably “modern,” the music’s range of expression, melodic flexibility, invention, and pervasive color make it immediately accessible. While not neo-Romantic by any means, it’s nonetheless music that manifests beauty and feeling in every note.
FANFARE: ROBERT SCHULSLAPER
The Complete Songs of Fauré, Vol. 4 / Martineau, Davies et al.
Signum Classics
Available as
CD
This is the final volume in the acclaimed series with Malcolm Martineau, charting the complete songs of French composer Gabriel Fauré and performed by a selection of the world’s finest singers. This series follows Martineau’s heralded 5-album series of The Complete Songs of Francis Poulenc. Malcolm Martineau was born in Edinburgh, read Music at St Catharine’s College, Cambridge and studied at the Royal College of Music. Recognised as one of the leading accompanists of his generation, he has worked with many of the world’s greatest singers including Sir Thomas Allen, Dame Janet Baker, Olaf Bar, Barbara Bonney, Ian Bostridge, Angela Gheorghiu, Susan Graham, Thomas Hampson, Della Jones, Simon Keenlyside, Angelika Kirchschlager, Magdalena Kozena, Solveig Kringelborn, Jonathan Lemalu, Dame Felicity Lott, Christopher Maltman, Karita Mattila, Lisa Milne, Ann Murray, Anna Netrebko, Anne Sofie von Otter, Joan Rodgers, Amanda Roocroft, Michael Schade, Frederica von Stade, Sarah Walker and Bryn Terfel. He was a given an honorary doctorate at the Royal Scottish Academy of Music and Drama in 2004, and appointed International Fellow of Accompaniment in 2009. Malcolm was the Artistic Director of the 2011 Leeds Lieder+ Festival. Includes full lyrics with English translations.
Canteloube: Chants d'Auvergne / Sampson, Rophé, Tapiola Sinfonietta
BIS
Available as
SACD
That Baïlèro, a shepherd’s song from the highlands of Auvergne sung in the Occitan dialect of the area, should become a favorite with singers ranging from Victoria de los Angeles to Sarah Brightman by way of Renée Fleming and Karita Mattila, is all because of Marie-Joseph Canteloube de Malaret. As a budding composer in Paris in the 1900s, Canteloube was unable to interest himself in the various musical cliques and currents. Instead he looked for inspiration in Auvergne in central France where he was born, starting to collect the songs of the farmers and shepherds that lived in the mountainous region. But he did so as a composer rather than a musicologist, and between 1923 and 1954 he published a total of thirty Chants d’Auvergne, arranged, harmonized and sumptuously orchestrated. The result is, one might say, idealized folk music: Canteloube largely respects the melodic line of the originals, but adds instrumental introductions, interludes and postludes, and gives an important role to the woodwind section. For the present disc, Carolyn Sampson and Pascal Rophé have selected 25 of the songs – ranging from love songs and lullabies to working songs and laments. They perform them together with Tapiola Sinfonietta, bringing sparkle to Canteloube's luxurious scores halfway between the impressionism of Debussy and the bucolic lyricism of d'Indy.
Wagner: Die Meistersinger Von Nürnberg / Reiner, Schöffler
Orfeo
Available as
CD
$58.99
Sep 16, 2005
This performance, recorded on November 14, 1955, was part of the four-week festival that took place at the Vienna State Opera celebrating its reopening after having been destroyed near the end of World War II. Meistersinger had long been a Viennese favorite and was performed 65 times between 1949 and 1955 at the interim Theater an der Wien. It enjoyed luxury casting and great conductors: Clemens Krauss, Rudolf Moralt, Hans Knappertsbusch, Karl Böhm, Rudolf Kempe, and Fritz Busch. For the return to the State Opera, director Karl Böhm invited the Hungarian-born Fritz Reiner, a perfectionist who in the previous 20 years had gained a reputation as one of America's finest conductors. Rehearsals, it was said, were grueling; but judging from this recording it was worth the work.
You can tell much about the entire performance from Reiner's Prelude. It is precise, grand, and detailed, with frisky, playful chattering in the upper strings underpinned by a more muscular approach in the lower strings. But it never becomes aggressive or reckless enough to smash into the opening scene; it grows into it naturally. (Where else can such a complex expression end but in prayer?) Throughout the opera we're treated to spirited tempos and playing from the Vienna Philharmonic that Reiner slows down to good effect: The Fliedermonolog is relaxed and as soft as cotton; the prelude to Act 3 wafts in the air gradually and wistfully; the quintet is a moment frozen in time and is presented with great breadth. We can feel what each character is feeling, even if a couple of them don't have the breath to express it.
Beckmesser's false "prize" song is slow to start, and so is the unease and eventual laughter of the assembled crowd. And the real "Prize Song" is accompanied lyrically, with sweep up to the high points, after which Sachs' speech about German art comes as a powerful missive. What the Viennese of 1955 thought of it, with its nasty recent memories, is anyone's guess, but the opera ends with true joy erupting, and much of it has to do with Reiner's ability to balance light and heavy, upper joy with lower gravity--a great reading.
Paul Schöffler, the possessor of a voice that never sounded young, is tonally a bit dry here but nonetheless does not present Sachs as an old man; he is vital and sure of himself. Sachs is a man who prods fate a bit, just because he can, and Schöffler sings with the assurance and potency and shading of a man of wisdom, his voice gaining in strength as the opera progresses. And his pianissimo singing is always handsome, never resorting to falsetto. His is the best Sachs on CD, bettering his own performance under Knappertsbusch on Decca.
Hans Beirer's Walther is neither as sweet and ardorous as Sandor Konya's nor as simply gorgeous as Domingo's (for Jochum on DG), and in fact he sounds indisposed. But his indisposition is only vocal, and while I realize how odd that sounds, his beautiful phrasing and shading, sincerity, vigor, and musicianship make up for a lack of grand tone and some dry singing. It's a performance impossible to dislike.
I was put off by Irmgard Seefried's Eva at first--her second act is too cutesy and pert--but she grows into the part and is lovely in the third act despite lacking anything like a trill. Gottlob Frick's Pogner is important. His address to the Masters in Act 1 has real authority and he's warm and tender with Eva in the second act. Erich Kunz sings all of Beckmesser's notes (save the silly falsetto high-A that ends his monolog in Sachs' shop) and has remarkable "face"; while we don't exactly feel sorry for him at the end, he clearly is not entirely mockable either. The David of Murray Dickie also is almost visible, and he sings with an impetuous young man's certainty, his high-Bs ringing out easily and pointedly. Rosette Anday's Magdalene is stodgy and hectoring; Eberhard Waechter's Nachtigall is mellifluous; and the other Mastersingers bark just a bit too much.
The sound is Austrian Radio mono from 1955 but sounds 10 years younger--grand and able to cope with the big climaxes, clear in the ensembles, clean in quiet moments. Aside from the Kubelik version (various labels, including Myto, Calig, Arts) with Thomas Stewart, Konya, and Gundula Janowitz, and possibly Solti's second recording (Decca) with Ben Heppner, Karita Mattila, and (small-scale but impressive) José van Dam, this set goes to the top of the list.
--Robert Levine, ClassicsToday.com
You can tell much about the entire performance from Reiner's Prelude. It is precise, grand, and detailed, with frisky, playful chattering in the upper strings underpinned by a more muscular approach in the lower strings. But it never becomes aggressive or reckless enough to smash into the opening scene; it grows into it naturally. (Where else can such a complex expression end but in prayer?) Throughout the opera we're treated to spirited tempos and playing from the Vienna Philharmonic that Reiner slows down to good effect: The Fliedermonolog is relaxed and as soft as cotton; the prelude to Act 3 wafts in the air gradually and wistfully; the quintet is a moment frozen in time and is presented with great breadth. We can feel what each character is feeling, even if a couple of them don't have the breath to express it.
Beckmesser's false "prize" song is slow to start, and so is the unease and eventual laughter of the assembled crowd. And the real "Prize Song" is accompanied lyrically, with sweep up to the high points, after which Sachs' speech about German art comes as a powerful missive. What the Viennese of 1955 thought of it, with its nasty recent memories, is anyone's guess, but the opera ends with true joy erupting, and much of it has to do with Reiner's ability to balance light and heavy, upper joy with lower gravity--a great reading.
Paul Schöffler, the possessor of a voice that never sounded young, is tonally a bit dry here but nonetheless does not present Sachs as an old man; he is vital and sure of himself. Sachs is a man who prods fate a bit, just because he can, and Schöffler sings with the assurance and potency and shading of a man of wisdom, his voice gaining in strength as the opera progresses. And his pianissimo singing is always handsome, never resorting to falsetto. His is the best Sachs on CD, bettering his own performance under Knappertsbusch on Decca.
Hans Beirer's Walther is neither as sweet and ardorous as Sandor Konya's nor as simply gorgeous as Domingo's (for Jochum on DG), and in fact he sounds indisposed. But his indisposition is only vocal, and while I realize how odd that sounds, his beautiful phrasing and shading, sincerity, vigor, and musicianship make up for a lack of grand tone and some dry singing. It's a performance impossible to dislike.
I was put off by Irmgard Seefried's Eva at first--her second act is too cutesy and pert--but she grows into the part and is lovely in the third act despite lacking anything like a trill. Gottlob Frick's Pogner is important. His address to the Masters in Act 1 has real authority and he's warm and tender with Eva in the second act. Erich Kunz sings all of Beckmesser's notes (save the silly falsetto high-A that ends his monolog in Sachs' shop) and has remarkable "face"; while we don't exactly feel sorry for him at the end, he clearly is not entirely mockable either. The David of Murray Dickie also is almost visible, and he sings with an impetuous young man's certainty, his high-Bs ringing out easily and pointedly. Rosette Anday's Magdalene is stodgy and hectoring; Eberhard Waechter's Nachtigall is mellifluous; and the other Mastersingers bark just a bit too much.
The sound is Austrian Radio mono from 1955 but sounds 10 years younger--grand and able to cope with the big climaxes, clear in the ensembles, clean in quiet moments. Aside from the Kubelik version (various labels, including Myto, Calig, Arts) with Thomas Stewart, Konya, and Gundula Janowitz, and possibly Solti's second recording (Decca) with Ben Heppner, Karita Mattila, and (small-scale but impressive) José van Dam, this set goes to the top of the list.
--Robert Levine, ClassicsToday.com
Schumann: Szenen aus Goethes Faust / Gerhaher, Karg, Harding
BR Klassik
Available as
CD
$29.99
Oct 14, 2014
Recording of the Month
When it comes to the music of Robert Schumann the dramatic works have always seemed to be the poor relations when compared to the rest of his music. This is mainly due to the writing of Eduard Hanslick, who at best damned the works with faint praise. The so-called "War of the Romantics" did not help: Schumann was seen as part of the conservative side by the followers of the modernists who included Liszt and Wagner. Either way his dramatic output and especially his opera, Genoveva, a work I enjoy, suffered as a consequence. Scenes from Goethe's Faust did not fare much better, which is a real shame as I have always regarded it as one of his greatest pieces, and not just of his late period, the music of which Hanslick all but dismisses. A convincing argument for the Scenes as a major work is made in the excellent accompanying book.
One of the perceived problems is that it is difficult to describe. It is not an opera but it's hardly an oratorio either. Perhaps a new genre needs to be developed to describe it. Until then perhaps we can call it an opera-oratorio, a description that highlights the best that the work has to offer in both worlds.
Scenes from Goethe's Faust had a prolonged gestation period of some nine years (1844-1853), with the third section having originally been conceived as a standalone work. The first two sections - Schumann was the first composer to set part two of Goethe's text to music - were added later. This led to the criticism that it was unbalanced with the best music being found in the final section, while the rest, which was composed during the period of Schumann's final illness said to lack the spark of inspiration. This is far from the truth. The work has to be seen as a whole or the scenes do not work together. These sections are used to highlight specific aspects of the 'Faust' myth and not the story as a whole.
If the third part could be said to be the most inspired, this is due to Goethe's text. The second part is the most dramatic and lends itself to a more dramatic interpretation through music. The result is a work which deserves more recognition. I would love to hear it performed live but whilst I can't see that happening anytime soon, this is the second new recording to have appeared in the last few years; Wit's Naxos version is the other. Perhaps people are coming to recognise this for what it is: one of Schumann's most important pieces as well as a seminal work in Romantic musical literature.
When it comes to performances the classic recording by Benjamin Britten has always been seen as the one to beat, although I must say that I have always had a soft spot for Abbado's star-studded live Sony recording from Berlin in 1994. I have always enjoyed Abbado's Schumann recordings. Is it any coincidence therefore that Daniel Harding, who became the assistant to Abbado in Berlin the following year, should choose to perform and ultimately record the work as well. This is an excellent performance, a true case of the apprentice learning well from the master. Christian Gerhaher is every bit as convincing as Bryn Terfel in the title role, while Christiane Karg, a soprano to watch, brings out a little more vulnerability to the role of Gretchen than Karita Mattila. That said there is very little to choose between the two, with all performers, soloists, chorus and orchestra, being on top form. Where the present recording wins hands down is on recording quality. There have obviously been a great many improvements in miking live performances over the last nineteen years, as this new recorded sound is a great deal brighter and more natural than that enjoyed by Abbado. This helps to bring out every nuance of the music and gives the listener new insights, especially when it comes to orchestration.
The booklet essay is excellent. It places the work in its true place of prominence. Added to this we find an interview with Christian Gerhaher in which he discusses the piece and a kind of glossary in which the characters are explained. This is all packaged in an attractive hardback book format.
– Stuart Sillitoe, MusicWeb International
Essential Highlights of Jorma Hynninen
Ondine
Available as
CD
$18.99
Apr 27, 2010
Hynninen’s artistry at least on a par with, if not superior to Fischer-Dieskau and Bostridge.
To celebrate its 25 th anniversary, Ondine, now distributed by Select but still operating independently, have released five bargain twofers in “a limited edition available in 2010 only.” Each comprises titles from their best-selling backlist to showcase five of their star artists: sopranos Soile Isokoski and Karita Mattila , violinist Pella Kuusisto, clarinettist Kari Kriikku and the singer featured here, baritone Jorman Hynninen.
“Essential Highlights” is somewhat misleading, in that rather than offering snippets, the programme provided here consists of telling accounts of Schubert’s two most celebrated song-cycles, both recorded by Hynninen in his prime in 1988. “Die schöne Müllerin” is slightly unusual in that it is more often sung by a tenor, although there have been many recordings made by baritones. “Winterreise” is sung in its most familiar tessitura – but again, we have had highly successful versions recorded by singers of other vocal categories, especially mezzo Brigitte Fassbänder and contralto Nathalie Stutzmann. Not being much of a fan of Fischer-Dieskau, I am unused to hearing a baritone in “Die schöne Müllerin” and take as my yardstick recordings by tenors Aksel Schiøtz, Fritz Wunderlich and, more recently, Jonas Kaufmann – although the latter evidently has more of a baritonal colouring to his voice than his silvery predecessors. In general, I feel that this music really demands a tenor voice to make its full impact, so I began listening inclined to make disparaging comparisons between Hynninen and his tenor competitors.
I have to say that his singing wholly disarmed my prejudice, even if I still persist in favouring a tenor version. A lot of his success has to do with the brilliance and sensitivity of Rolf Gothóni his accompanist – perhaps the wrong word, given the prominence and beauty of the piano part, but more of that anon. Born in 1941, Hynninen has been one of the pre-eminent Finnish singers of the last thirty years. He possesses a flexible, slightly grainy, husky baritone with a light vibrato, an easy top and rich low notes. He has performed very successfully in opera but is particularly renowned for his interpretations of Schubert, making this bargain set indispensable to any lover of Lieder or any of his fans who do not already own these discs.
His freedom and naturalness with the German text suggests that he is quite at home in the language, without sharing Fischer-Dieskau’s propensity for preciosity and for pouncing on words. I also happen to think that he has a more beautiful voice than DF-D, but that is a question of personal taste. I was surprised to find that the transpositions Hynninen requires are often by no more than a tone downwards and sometimes not at all. There are fleeting moments of strain or ungainliness in fast-moving songs with higher-flying passages such “Der Jäger” – but tenor Kaufmann has the same passing difficulties, inherent in a heftier voice having to take on such music. Hynninen counteracts the possibility of a baritone being unable to convey a sense of lost, bewildered youth by frequently lightening his voice into a tender, touching mezza voce and employing falsetto for particular effects, such as in the closing cradle-song “Des Baches Wiegenlied”.
Hynninen and Gothóni attack “Das Wandern”, the opening song of “Die schöne Müllerin”, at such a pace that I was temporarily taken aback, but I suspect that this was a deliberate choice to counteract immediately any effect of lugubriousness which a lower-pitched voice might engender. Tempi in general are brisk; both artists rely more on precise, calculated articulation of both notes and texts to delineate emotion rather than an all-purpose melancholy. They seem well attuned to poet Wilhelm Müller’s exploitation of that very Romantic technique of pathetic fallacy; as the narrators contemplate the rippling brook or trudge through the bleak landscape, their emotions are palpably embodied in the interplay between voice and piano and the listener is drawn into this world of metaphysical projection. Hynninen’s personae in both cycles emerge as very real and very human, operating in a vividly realised, naturalistic context.
Gothóni is simply the best pianist I have heard in this music since Gerald Moore; his playing complements perfectly the singer’s emotional range, especially in “Winterreise”. It is noticeable that its vocal topography suits Hynninen slighly better than “Die Schöne Müllerin”; as he moves from a haunting half-voice to a more extrovert and operatic register, Gothoni shadows him, unhurried and sonorous in “Das Wirtshaus”, nervy and agitated in “Im Dorfe, defiant and emphatic in “Mut”. Singer and pianist are equal partners, each varying the dynamics, employing rubato and momentary hesitations to heighten or lower the emotional temperature, particularly in “Der Lindenbaum”, a key, core song, whose opening affords a moment of repose before the stark intrusion of “Die kalten Winden bliesen”. The culmination of the cycle is “Der Leiermann”, that most haunting and disturbing of songs; Hynninen and Gothóni combine to evoke the strange beauty of the benumbed, trance-like state of a narrator “half in love with easeful Death.”.
There are literally scores – hundreds? - of recordings of these two song-cycles available at any one time to the collector and a top recommendation is impossible. Just as many adore Fischer-Dieskau, there are some who swear by Ian Bostridge’s version. I do not share their enthusiasm and as such am happy to endorse Hynninen’s artistry as being at least on a par with theirs, if not superior, although I would still turn first to a favourite tenor to hear “Die Schöne Müllerin”, fine though Hynninen is.
--Ralph Moore, MusicWeb International
“Essential Highlights” is somewhat misleading, in that rather than offering snippets, the programme provided here consists of telling accounts of Schubert’s two most celebrated song-cycles, both recorded by Hynninen in his prime in 1988. “Die schöne Müllerin” is slightly unusual in that it is more often sung by a tenor, although there have been many recordings made by baritones. “Winterreise” is sung in its most familiar tessitura – but again, we have had highly successful versions recorded by singers of other vocal categories, especially mezzo Brigitte Fassbänder and contralto Nathalie Stutzmann. Not being much of a fan of Fischer-Dieskau, I am unused to hearing a baritone in “Die schöne Müllerin” and take as my yardstick recordings by tenors Aksel Schiøtz, Fritz Wunderlich and, more recently, Jonas Kaufmann – although the latter evidently has more of a baritonal colouring to his voice than his silvery predecessors. In general, I feel that this music really demands a tenor voice to make its full impact, so I began listening inclined to make disparaging comparisons between Hynninen and his tenor competitors.
I have to say that his singing wholly disarmed my prejudice, even if I still persist in favouring a tenor version. A lot of his success has to do with the brilliance and sensitivity of Rolf Gothóni his accompanist – perhaps the wrong word, given the prominence and beauty of the piano part, but more of that anon. Born in 1941, Hynninen has been one of the pre-eminent Finnish singers of the last thirty years. He possesses a flexible, slightly grainy, husky baritone with a light vibrato, an easy top and rich low notes. He has performed very successfully in opera but is particularly renowned for his interpretations of Schubert, making this bargain set indispensable to any lover of Lieder or any of his fans who do not already own these discs.
His freedom and naturalness with the German text suggests that he is quite at home in the language, without sharing Fischer-Dieskau’s propensity for preciosity and for pouncing on words. I also happen to think that he has a more beautiful voice than DF-D, but that is a question of personal taste. I was surprised to find that the transpositions Hynninen requires are often by no more than a tone downwards and sometimes not at all. There are fleeting moments of strain or ungainliness in fast-moving songs with higher-flying passages such “Der Jäger” – but tenor Kaufmann has the same passing difficulties, inherent in a heftier voice having to take on such music. Hynninen counteracts the possibility of a baritone being unable to convey a sense of lost, bewildered youth by frequently lightening his voice into a tender, touching mezza voce and employing falsetto for particular effects, such as in the closing cradle-song “Des Baches Wiegenlied”.
Hynninen and Gothóni attack “Das Wandern”, the opening song of “Die schöne Müllerin”, at such a pace that I was temporarily taken aback, but I suspect that this was a deliberate choice to counteract immediately any effect of lugubriousness which a lower-pitched voice might engender. Tempi in general are brisk; both artists rely more on precise, calculated articulation of both notes and texts to delineate emotion rather than an all-purpose melancholy. They seem well attuned to poet Wilhelm Müller’s exploitation of that very Romantic technique of pathetic fallacy; as the narrators contemplate the rippling brook or trudge through the bleak landscape, their emotions are palpably embodied in the interplay between voice and piano and the listener is drawn into this world of metaphysical projection. Hynninen’s personae in both cycles emerge as very real and very human, operating in a vividly realised, naturalistic context.
Gothóni is simply the best pianist I have heard in this music since Gerald Moore; his playing complements perfectly the singer’s emotional range, especially in “Winterreise”. It is noticeable that its vocal topography suits Hynninen slighly better than “Die Schöne Müllerin”; as he moves from a haunting half-voice to a more extrovert and operatic register, Gothoni shadows him, unhurried and sonorous in “Das Wirtshaus”, nervy and agitated in “Im Dorfe, defiant and emphatic in “Mut”. Singer and pianist are equal partners, each varying the dynamics, employing rubato and momentary hesitations to heighten or lower the emotional temperature, particularly in “Der Lindenbaum”, a key, core song, whose opening affords a moment of repose before the stark intrusion of “Die kalten Winden bliesen”. The culmination of the cycle is “Der Leiermann”, that most haunting and disturbing of songs; Hynninen and Gothóni combine to evoke the strange beauty of the benumbed, trance-like state of a narrator “half in love with easeful Death.”.
There are literally scores – hundreds? - of recordings of these two song-cycles available at any one time to the collector and a top recommendation is impossible. Just as many adore Fischer-Dieskau, there are some who swear by Ian Bostridge’s version. I do not share their enthusiasm and as such am happy to endorse Hynninen’s artistry as being at least on a par with theirs, if not superior, although I would still turn first to a favourite tenor to hear “Die Schöne Müllerin”, fine though Hynninen is.
--Ralph Moore, MusicWeb International
