San Francisco Classical Voice

Goerne and Schmalcz were thoroughly equal to both the quiet, restrained, almost meditative opening songs; “Resignation”; the first setting of “An die Hoffnung” (To Hope); the setting of Goethe's “Wonne der Wehmut” (Joy in Melancholy); and the rapid-fire, almost manic setting (also to a poem by Goethe) of “Neue Liebe, Neues Leben” (New Love, New Life). Goerne sang the final line of this last song, “Liebe! Liebe! lass mich los!” (Love! Love! Let me go!) as if he were truly bound by and struggling against a tyrannical god. Beethoven's second setting, ten years after the first, of “An die Hoffnung” ended the set with a consummate aria-like song that began as a recitative with harmonically unresolved short questions and ran through rapidly shifting phrases that alternately plumbed the depths of dejection and leapt heroically into the light again.

Both performers gave good accounts of three Richard Strauss songs: “Traum durch die Dämmerung” (Dream in the Twilight); “Die Nacht” (Night); and the famous “Allerseelen” (All Souls), these last two to beautiful poems by Hermann von Gilm. Some of the expansive Straussian phrases could have benefitted by less interpretive rigor and more lush tone: for example, in the simple, restrained but emotional line from the first song, “Ich gehe nicht schnell, ich eile nicht” (I walk not fast, I go without haste), which builds slowly through an ascending, step-wise crescendo. The line, simple though it is, needs a pressing, full-throated urgency to fuel the climb and the crescendo, but Goerne is not one to indulge in vocal expansiveness. His is a less sensuous, more highly controlled vocal palette. He prefers a starker rendering, which in most cases is no less beautiful for its austerity. In this case, however, a little abandon would have been more effective.

Mahler preferred the baritone voice for his Kindertotenlieder (Songs on the Death of Children), and basically, though not entirely, for good reason. The outbreaks of anger and despair in two of the five songs are perhaps more suited to the male persona of the grieving father than to the female persona, even though contraltos or mezzos often perform the cycle. These intense sections Goerne did wonderfully, spitting out the anguish and bitterness of such phrases as “O du, des Vaters Zelle” (O you, seed of your father) or “Ich sorgte, sie stürben morgen / Das ist nun nicht zu besorgen” (I feared they would die on the morrow / Now there is nothing to fear) with as much emotion as one could want.

But in other songs, where something more than expression of pure emotion was needed — for example, in the second and fourth songs — it often seemed as if Goerne didn't quite grasp the point of what he was singing. In the second song, the children's glances sparkled with dark flames, presaging death, if only the father could have perceived them, the poet Rückert (who was writing about the deaths of two of his own children) says. In the heart of the song is the excruciating line, addressed to the children's eyes, “Ihr wolltet mir mit eurem Leuchten sagen...” (You wanted to tell me with your shining...) The line ascends, diminishing and slowing as it goes, with a pianissimo on the peak word “Leuchten,” which then briefly, achingly, erupts in tone, returning a second later to the original tempo and a diminuendo. It takes minute attention to Mahler's dynamic markings before and during the heartbreaking turn of the line to achieve the desired effect: a sudden bursting through of the singer into comprehension. This is followed immediately by the quiet, unearthly words of the children (“spoken” by their eyes): “Wir möchten nah dir bleiben gerne” (We would gladly stay with you), with a sharp accent on “gerne” (gladly) to express once again the unwilled breaking through of emotion.

These rapid swings of tempo and dynamic, indicating instability of feeling, are typical in Mahler. Goerne might have been aided in observing these markings if he'd been singing with orchestra, for which the songs were scored. Swelling strings and long-breathed oboe have duration, color and flexibility, and can partner the singer fully in these songs, more eloquently than the piano can. Nevertheless, more could have been essayed than the performers seemed willing to do.

And again, in the fourth song, Goerne did not manage to encompass both the (false) light-heartedness implicit in the song's major key and the despair, lying just beneath the surface, of the father's denial: The children have only gone on a walk, they will soon be home, we will perhaps catch them up on the next hill, as he says over and over. Nevertheless, the songs were performed harrowingly enough to make their mark. The audience, here as throughout the recital, was utterly still: no coughing, no premature applause. And perhaps best of all, no encores were given or demanded after the Mahler. Good taste all around.