I don’t know about you, but I’m always astounded when I read about prolific composers whose lives were ended prematurely or those who suffered greatly in some way or another. There are numerous examples: Mozart, who wrote over six hundred works including operas, symphonies, concertos, piano and chamber music, died at the age of thirty-five; Schubert, who wrote over one thousand pieces including over six hundred Lieder, died at the age of thirty-one; Beethoven suffered with hearing loss and became completely deaf by his mid-forties. Hugo Wolf was no exception. He died at the age of 42 after admitting himself to an asylum. His life was a sad one – he was extremely poor, he had a hard time getting his music published and he suffered long bouts of illness, depression, and insanity. He did have periods of productive writing but these were brief, overshadowed by his depression and mood swings.
Wolf’s songs have always fascinated me and for the German Art Song recital on August 4th, I chose a few of my favourites. I have been singing a lot of Schubert’s Die Schöne Müllerin lately and love the progression of the innocent youth through love and its trials, and tried to weave a similar story through the Wolf songs I chose. Some of them appear to be so simple melodically and harmonically, like Verschiegene Liebe and Der Musikant, and yet others, like Auf dem grünen Balkon and Nimmersatte Liebe are extremely complex – and all his songs are full of depth and emotion. Perhaps this was a reflection of Wolf’s own character and its fluctuations. Liz Upchurch and I, while working on the songs, were chatting about An eine Äolsharfe and its striking similarities to Wagner’s music. You can almost hear Wolfram’s Odu, mein holder Abendstern in there somewhere. Wolf idolized Wagner and championed his music, going as far as heavily criticizing Brahms, who was Wagner’s rival, in the paper where Wolf had a job as a reviewer. How sad that he never would fully realize how important his own songs would become. Here is the text by Eduard Mörikefor An eine Äolsharfe:
Angelehnt an die Efeuwand Dieser alten Terrasse, Du, einer luftgebor'nen Muse Geheimnisvolles Saitenspiel, Fang' an, Fange wieder an Deine melodische Klage! Ihr kommet, Winde, fern herüber, Ach! von des Knaben, Der mir so lieb war, Frisch grünen dem Hügel. Und Frühlingsblüten unterwegs streifend, Übersättigt mit Wohlgerüchen, Wie süß, wie süß bedrängt ihr dies Herz! Und säuselt her in die Saiten, Angezogen von wohllautender Wehmut, Wachsend im Zug meiner Sehnsucht, Und hinsterbend wieder. Aber auf einmal, Wieder Wind heftigerherstößt, Ein holder Schreider Harfe Wiederholt mir zu süßem Erschrecken Meiner Seele plötzliche Regung, Und hier, die volle Rose streut geschüttelt All' ihre Blätter vor meine Füße! Leaning up against the ivy-covered wall Of this old terrace, You, an air-borne muse, A lute-melody full of mystery, Begin, Begin again, Your melodious lament! You come, winds, from far away, Ah! from the boy Who was so dear to me, From his hill so freshly green. On your way, streaking over spring blossoms Saturated with sweet scents, How sweetly, how sweetly you besiege my heart! You rustle the strings here, Drawn by harmonious melancholy, Growing louder in the pull of my longing, And then dying down again. But all at once, The wind blows violently And a lovely cry of the harp Echoes, to my sweet terror, The sudden stirring of my soul, And here, the ample rose shakes and strews All its petals at my feet! Canadian-born tenor Colin Ainsworth has distinguished himself by his exceptional singing, impeccable diction and a diverse range of repertoire. See Colin perform in person Toronto Summer Music's An Evening of German Art Song on Wednesday, August 4. For tickets and information visit our website.
