I’m sorry this is late. It went out of control (I am not an experienced writer!), and it’s taken a while to condense. If it is still too rambling, I can tell you that it is significantly less so than it was. A decent publisher (surgeon?) would probably cut out huge chunks. 

In our isolation we have Zoom meetings. Some have the wooden spoon system… if you wish to speak then hold up a spoon… as if that makes any difference with large numbers of the same family together, all talking at the same time. I’m not used to this, but please don’t get ideas. It’s no way to run a rehearsal. 

More than 30 years ago I was working with a French professional choir of over 100. Everyone spoke out loud most of the time. I would say (in finest French) that we would go from bar 126, say, and then wait until they had stopped talking. Usually about a minute would go by each time, which, if you think about it, is rather long if you stop and correct things about 30 times in a two-hour rehearsal. I was commended by some for my control and discipline, which could only mean that some guest conductors must have had an even worse time. It was chaos.

This week the emphasis of my Blog is as much on performance and interpretation as on structure, and concerns the final years of Richard Strauss (1864-1949). Strauss had had an early dabbling with the Third Reich in the mid-1930s, but as war set in he had distanced himself and been discredited. He became increasingly dark in his mood and by 1945 was a saddened figure, not only because of the destruction of so much life and civilisation, but perhaps even more so for the ruins of most of the concert halls and opera houses, especially Munich, where he and his music had achieved such success before 1939. At the end of the war he set to work on Metamorphosen, a remarkable and deeply felt reflection of what life had become for him and his cherished wife of over 50 years. He had to face official de-Nazification and the couple moved to Switzerland, only to return to Bavaria in 1949, the year in which he died. His wife died a few months later in 1950.

My two main works, and a third, are from the period 1945-1949, during which, remarkably, and in the words of his biographer Norman del Mar, ‘It proved that his genius, so far from being spent, had unexpectedly renewed itself… in an Indian summer’. I will say a few things about each work in turn.

Oboe Concerto
At the end of the war the large number of American soldiers in Germany needed to be billeted, and Strauss was very depressed about the prospect of losing his house. By chance one of the Americans soldiers was an oboe player in the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra and realised who they were dealing with, and though awestruck by the great composer whose music he knew and had played, he found himself having to talk with him. Strauss was allowed to keep his home because of who he was, and the American asked him if he had ever written for the oboe as a solo instrument (of course orchestral works included oboes).‘No’ was the single word reply, but Strauss obviously went on thinking and produced a rather sunny and fine concerto, much-cherished by oboists, and seemingly out of context with his overturned life and mental state. 

Metamorphosen
This intense and deep work for 23 string instruments was written between 1944 and 1945 and completed less than three weeks before the end of the war at his home in Garmisch-Partenkirchen in Bavaria. It was first played in 1946 in Zurich, to where Strauss and his wife had moved. Strauss could only bring himself to go to the final rehearsal, not wishing to be surrounded by critics or public. Metamorphosen is remarkable partly for its extensively-used quote from the slow movement of Beethoven’s Eroica symphony. Where in the final bars of the score the Eroica quote is fully laid out in the basses and cellos, Strauss has written ‘In memoriam!’, as if in homage to the great giant of freedom and liberty. The work follows a similar scheme to that of Liszt in his Piano Sonata, with thematic transformation binding it together. It is a single movement with three parts all connected thematically, the long central section being quicker than those either side of it. It is intensely chromatic but Strauss retained overall an acute sense of tonality. If you feel somewhat seasick in the first half, I urge you not to switch off because the final section is profound in stature and brings together what has preceded it. Then listen to it again! And then once more… etc.

Strauss was now in his 80s, surrounded by the tragedy of events and his own health problems, and will have been looking to the end of life. However, one of his most sublime work of this ‘Indian summer’ was yet to come.

Vier letzte Lieder (Four Last Songs)
Strauss’s wife had been a lead soprano opera soloist whose singing career was closely tied to Strauss’s as composer, conductor and pianist, and the soprano voice featured prominently in much of Strauss’s writing both in opera and song. This set is rightly regarded as the summit of Strauss’s song-writing.

There is some (not important) discussion about the order of these songs. I am listing them in my preferred order, not the published one in which they are usually sung today. There is no direct record of what Strauss intended, or that he ever intended them to be grouped as a mini song-cycle. He wrote an effusive letter in May 1949 to the great Norwegian soprano Kirsten Flagstad, regretting they had not done more together, praising her for a recent recital in Zürich, and commending to her four of his other songs which remained ‘off-limits to normal concert singers’. He also placed at her disposal his ‘four last songs’ (no capital letters) for her to perform at a suitable time with a first-class conductor and ensemble. The first performance was given by Flagstad conducted by Wilhelm Furtwängler (who knew Strauss though not the best of friends) and the Philharmonia Orchestra in London 70 years ago in the Royal Albert Hall on May 22nd 1950 in the order I have listed below, and recorded live. 

The published order easily suggests a natural sequence – Spring, September, Going to Sleep, At Dusk. This seems logical enough but starting with Beim Schlafengehen (Going to Sleep) seems to me to provide a better introduction. I have to come clean and say that this is the order in which I first heard them on the recording by Lisa della Casa. The earliest conductors and singers, however, all performed them with Beim Schlafengehen first and Frühling (Spring) third, not the other way round. My feeling is that Strauss may have indicated this at some point, though he never heard them in concert. 

Flagstad’s voice was darkening and the high notes were not as easy for her as they had been.  She was planning only to sing three of them, thinking she did not have enough stamina for Frühling. However, she included it and it was a great success.

Other early recordings were made by the wonderful Mozart singers Sena Jurinac in Stockholm, conducted by Fritz Busch (who knew Strauss well), and Lisa della Casa with the Vienna Philharmonic conducted by Karl Böhm, who also knew Strauss! Malcolm Sargent also recorded them with Jurinac and the BBC Symphony Orchestra in 1961, but in the published order this time.

There are four things which unite these early performances, all recorded in 1953 and before:
i) the order of singing the 4 songs
ii) the rather poor sound quality of the recordings
iii) the type of voice
iv) the pacing of them - by far the most significant.

A habit seems to have evolved quite early on in the late fifties and after these first recordings, of stretching and slowing the pace in a way which seems to me to be not what Strauss intended. All these early performances flow beautifully, and rightly so. The Lisa della Casa performance is quickest but it is also one of my favourites, and that takes some hard swallowing if you are concerned (as you should be…) with intonation!! She weaves her way effortlessly through the high and meandering tessitura and sounds as though she has taken flight for much of it, and especially in Frühling, which flows with life and joy. Her recording is enhanced with the violin solos played by Willi Boskovsky, long-time leader (Concert-master) of the Vienna Philharmonic. Sena Jurinac’s first recording (with Fritz Busch conducting) has some technical problems, but it is a lovely-sounding voice. She was greatly admired also for her Mozart opera roles. Flagstad had the heaviest voice of the three, but not as heavy as some of the later recordings. 

I feel that Strauss sopranos should come from the Mozart/Viennese tradition rather than the big heavyweight Wagner/Bayreuth one. It may not please everyone but I have always thought the great Jessye Norman was not right for this music. Other performances which suffer from over-heavy voices are sung by Leontyne Price, and Gwyneth Jones. One singer whom I have overlooked who should be on the ‘appropriate’ list is Kiri Te Kanawa, but I am not so familiar with her performance. It seems to me essential that performers who take on these songs should be able to navigate them with ease, and that is not what comes across if the voice is too heavy. The tone needs to be beautiful and without strain. Of the later recordings I would recommend Soile Isokoski with the Berlin Radio Symphony Orchestra. She seems to have the freedom in the voice which they really require and easily seems to sing within her limits as well as giving them something of the abandon which Lisa della Casa gives them.

Some early critics and conductors were not complimentary about these songs, thinking that they were too indulgent and that Strauss had gone backwards to his former Rosenkavalier world. Nowadays they are known for their sumptuous beauty, and we have moved on from the argument about ‘modern’ versus traditional that I mentioned in an earlier blog. Strauss seems to have lived in a musical cocoon, bypassing the musical events of the early twentieth century as demonstrated at the hands of Stravinsky, Schönberg and Bartok.

Beim Schlafengehen (Going to Sleep)
A heavenly song all through, but which stands out for the beginning of the final stanza where the singer emerges to the words ‘and the soul unguarded longs to soar on free wings’, taking over from the ecstatic violin solo symbolising the soul’s flight. The integration of the solo voice with the orchestral writing is evident in all of the songs, but never more so than here.

September
Melancholy and reflective – ‘the garden is in mourning … summertime shudders quietly to its close’.

Frühling (Spring)
Lively and soaring and perhaps the most chromatic of the four.

Im Abendroth (At Dusk)
In 1946 Strauss came across Eichendorff’s poem Im Abendrot (At dusk), which describes a couple who have passed through life together and need look no further. They watch the sun setting, the sound of two larks is heard, and as the day ends they ponder over whether it also suggests the end of life. Strauss began an extended period of setting this poem to music. An extraordinary effect illustrates the sound of the two larks played on trilling flutes.   In the last sung phrase Strauss alters one word from the original poem, perhaps to reflect more on himself; ‘das’ is changed to ‘dies’….’is that perhaps death’ becomes ‘is this perhaps death’.  After the final word ‘Tod?’ he then quotes in the orchestra one of the main themes from his great symphonic tone poem Tod und Verklärung (Death and Transfiguration) though in a new way. Although the first to be written, Im Abendrot was to become the last song of the group as published and has obvious valedictory qualities.

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I don’t collect multiple versions of recordings, but these songs are an exception (as are the several different versions I have of the Rachmaninoff All-Night Vigil). My Four Last Songs CD collection consists of performances by the following singers:

Kirsten Flagstad
Sena Jurinac (x 2)
Lisa della Casa
Elizabeth Schwarzkopf
Lucia Popp
Gundula Janowitz
Soile Isokoski

I expect you are going to tell me about several other recordings but I have stopped acquiring them unless I hear about something exceptional. 

If you know them already you will recognise a lot of what I say about them. If you don’t know them then you are in for a new acquaintance which is beyond ravishing … but avoid Jessye Norman if you want to get to the heart of these songs.

Thought for the Week
When I started out writing these weekly rambles, a ‘thought for the week’ seemed like an idea with potential. Times have moved on and it feels less appropriate because the message is the same. We are concerned for our families, relatives, the elderly, our futures, the front-line workers from doctors, nurses, ambulance drivers, carers in homes and at home, food-shop/supermarket operators, and a long list of other ‘hidden’, but essential people including those in the armed services and the teachers under new and increasing pressure to provide education in a very new and demanding context (as if they weren’t frantically busy already). 
I think with that in mind I may not try and ‘think something up’ each week just because of precedent. We know already and that continues.

Thought 2
This was to have been my farewell concert week after 39 years with my wonderful University of Essex Choir – Bach’s Mass in B minor at Snape Maltings. Hoping we can bring this to a satisfactory conclusion at some point in the relatively near future. 

Best wishes to everyone and thanks for all the messages in this past week in particular. Do play the Four Last Songs on their 70th anniversary on May 22nd.

Richard