The Unknown Great Schumann
November 18, 2003
By Robert Commanday
It is curious how musicians often ignore the views of composers appreciating their own works, even great composers. "I have finished Paradies und die Peri, Schumann wrote in a letter, "It is my greatest and I hope my best work." Despite that assertion, you'd have to look long and hard to find a musician or music-lover who has even heard of the work. Possibly it has been performed in this country, but not, to my knowledge, on the West Coast. Schumann went on to write, "The story is to be found in Thomas Moore's Lalla Rookh and it was virtually made for being set to music. Its basic theme is so poetic and pure that I was completely enchanted." Later he wrote, "My heart's blood is in this music."
That enchantment is conveyed in piece after piece in what is apparently the first Romantic oratorio, one "created for joyous people, not for the church," as the composer put it. Though composed for large forces, nine soloists (four for true solos, who are added to five more used in solo ensembles), chorus and full Schumann orchestra, the feeling of the solo vocal writing is that of the Schumann Lied, exquisitely lyrical, and the choral writing is sheerly beautiful.
The originality of the musical treatment that, as Schumann proudly pointed out, avoided recitative, reflected the distinctiveness of the literary source, Thomas Moore's greatly popular book-length poem Lalla Rookh (1817), exotic in its Orientalism. It is about Princess Lalla Rookh's journey from Delhi to Cashmere to meet her betrothed. Disguised as a poet, her husband-to-be actually accompanies her, and recounts to her four long highly romantic tales, the second of which is "Paradise and the Peri." The Peri is a fallen angel on a desperate mission seeking to gain admission to heaven, which she can accomplish only by offering "the gift heaven prefers above all others." Twice the Peri fails, the angel at the gate accepting neither a hero's blood, shed in the name of freedom, nor the sighs of purest love (the last breath of a woman who dies with her lover rather than abandon him and save her own life). Finally the Peri's world search is rewarded. She finds the tears of a penitent sinner and these serve as "the precious gift . . . that opened heaven for you," the Chorus of Blessed Singers sing in welcoming the Peri.
Clearly this scenario was wholly unlike the biblical tales, classical myths and allegorical subjects that inspired oratorios up to that point in music history. So was Schumann's music different from all oratorios before. Even the narrative solos that describe the progress of the Peri in her mission have a distinctive quality — not recitative; perhaps lyric-recitative would best describe them. And the choral writing is exquisite and varied. Schumann has never been properly respected in this country for his choral work. The Chorus of the Genii of the Nile, a choral scherzo, evokes Mendelssohn; it's fairy-dust music. Typifying the graceful quality of this score is the episode that begins with the tenor solo "The Peri weeps, her tear make shine the air around." His music is picked up by a solo vocal quartet and the orchestra comments in the background, delicately.
When Schumann he composed Das Paradies und die Peri (1843), he was in his youth, newly married, and caught up with writing Lieder, the style and character of which infuse this oratorio. One might even call it a Lieder cycle oratorio. The "Maiden" (soprano II) sings "O may this air penetrate me, this holy air which you exhale," and the passionate flow of her line and the pulsating drive of the string accompaniment are nothing other than a Schumann Lied. Part II of the work concludes with the Peri (high soprano) singing a serene, floating ariette, "Sleep now and rest in fragrant dream," the chorus picking it up, cushioned by a gentle orchestral accompaniment. It is music of a quality that gives the listener the illusion of singing it too.
On it goes, with a delightful choral dance piece, "The Choir of the Houris," before the trials of the Peri resume. Their successful outcome is embraced by heavenly choruses and celebrated by a jubilant finale of a rejoicing Peri and a climactic "Choir of the Blessed Spirits." There is a splendid CD recording of Das Paradies und die Peri, with Armin Jordan conducting the Orchestre de la Suisse Romande, Choeur de Chambre Romande, and Choeur Pro Arte de Lausanne, with soloists Edith Wiens (beautiful as La Peri), soprano Sylvia Herman, mezzo soprano Ann Gjevang, tenors Robert Gambill and Christophe Prégardien, and bass Hans-Peter Scheidegger (Erato 2292-45456-2). As long as our conductors are too dense to tumble on to this masterpiece and produce it here, the recording will have to do.
Another Schumann vocal-orchestral masterpiece that, considering its subject, is even more unaccountably neglected, Szenen aus Goethes Faust. Because he wrote it over a nine-year period, 1844-1853, it has not the stylistic consistency of Das Paradies und die Peri. It has been said that his hearing Wagner's music over this period had an effect on this piece. No question but that the later-composed music (including the dark and heavy overture (the last element, added in 1853) is more dramatic and less lyric.
Like Das Paradies und die Peri, Szenen aus Goethes Faust is original in kind and approach. Most importantly, he used text actually drawn from Goethe, unlike the many others who composed works on the Faust subject — Spohr, Berlioz, Boito, Busoni, also Liszt, Wagner, Mahler (the Eighth Symphony) Wolfgang Rihm and Alfred Schnittke. Schumann believed that despite the "perfection" of Goethe's poetry, "its effectiveness could be enhanced through the medium." Since his primary focus, culminating in the third and final part of the work (the part he composed first), was on the transfiguration of Faust, the spiritual character of Goethe's work, the essence of its meaning, is communicated through the music, the vocal and choral medium in which Schumann excelled.
The dramatic aspects of the epic work are concentrated in the outset of this oratorio but not dealt with again. Part One (of three) treats the Faust-Marguerite encounter in the garden, Marguerite's despairing prayers before the painting of the Mater Dolorosa ("Help, rescue me from shame and death") and then her terror in the Cathedral, haunted by conscience and by the voice of the Evil Spirit (not Mephistopheles, but sung by same bass singer who plays him). Although dramatic composition was anything but one of Schumann's strengths, there is real intensity and excitement in these scenes, climaxing with the cathedral chorus singing the Dies Irae (to Schumann's music, not to the traditional chant of the Roman liturgy).
Part II has a greater and more absorbing sweep, beginning with Ariel greeting the sunrise and an elfin chorus setting a peaceful scene and mood for Faust. The chorus music develops from double solo trios into a double chorus, radiantly. But then "Midnight" brings on a diabolic scherzo and witches galore, with the infernal music that the early Romantics specialized in. Four crones or sibyls appear, representing Want, Guilt, Despair, and Worry, the last of whom strikes Faust blind when he denies her power. This leads to Faust's death, Mephistopheles first commanding a chorus of Lemurs (boys' chorus) to prepare the way. ("Lemurs," I suspect, does not refer here to the furry little long-tailed primates with large eyes, but to an old Roman term that meant "specters.") Faust dies with the phrase "I now enjoy the highest moment's bliss" on his lips.
The third and final part of Szenen aus Goethes Faust is its glory, centering on the redemption of Faust that is the core of Schumann's interpretation. The chorus extols the serene, peaceful landscape. A succession of hermits, Paters Ecstaticus, Profundus, and Seraphicus, each give their visions of salvation, and there is a grand chorus of angels, with semi-choruses of solo quartets, hailing Faust's salvation. A fourth hermit, Doctor Marianus, reflects the ultimate vision and represents Faust's spirit. The chorus work builds and builds, ensemble on ensemble, double chorus to triple chorus (fugue), and the transfiguration is complete in a musical sublimation. It must have inspired Mahler, and it can hold its own against any choral expression of heavenly ecstasy — yes, including his.
As in the case of Das Paradies und die Peri, we have no live performances to anticipate, but there are two leading performances on CD. The most recent one and the front-runner is Claudio Abbado leading the Berlin Philharmonic with a dream cast of Bryn Terfel, Karita Mattila, Jan-Hendrik Rootering, Barbara Bonney, Susan Graham, Endrik Wottrich, Brigitte Poschner-Klebel, Hans-Peter Blochwitz, Harry Peeters, the Bad Tolz Boys Choir, the Swedish Radio Choir and Eric Ericson Chamber Choir. (SONY S2K 66308). Another older performance that I have not heard is on an EMI CD, with Bernhard Klee conducting the Düsseldorf Musikverein Chorus and Symphony Orchestra, Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau, Barbara Daniels, Edith Mathis, Hanna Schwarz, Harald Stamm, Ilse Gramatzki, Kari Lövass, Nicolai Gedda, Norma Sharp, Walter Berry, and (again) the Bad Tolz Boys Choir. (Benjamin Britten also took up the piece, and led a fine recording with Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau as Faust, but this seems to be long out of print, at least in this country.)
It just seems as though the American orchestras have not caught on to Schumann's greatness as a composer of vocal/choral orchestral works. I'd tried to interest Herbert Blomstedt in doing one of them with the San Francisco Symphony when he was music director, but to no avail. (Another, shorter one is a 13-minute, exquisite gem based on Goethe's Wilhelm Meister, the Requiem für Mignon.) The three works, Das Paradies und die Peri, Szenen aus Goethes Faust and Requiem für Mignon are on a par with his large instrumental works. In fact, these works treat the orchestra more finely and subtly than do his symphonies and have few, if any, of the Schumann orchestration problems conductors complain about. Who knew?
(Robert P. Commanday, the senior editor of San Francisco Classical Voice, was the music critic of the San Francisco Chronicle, 1965-93, and before that a conductor and lecturer at the University of California, Berkeley.)
©2003 Robert Commanday, all rights reserved