Hanna-Elisabeth Müller: Sinnbild–Strauss Songs
Pentatone

Whereas some singers might favour a theatrical and grandiose performance approach to Richard Strauss's orchestral songs, on Sinnbild, her second Pentatone album, German soprano Hanna-Elisabeth Müller opts for a subtler treatment that, in being so intimate and personal, recommends the choice all the more. Bombast isn't a word in her vocabulary, but nuance definitely is, and her luminous voice helps make this a recording to savour. It also complements the character of the material, which has to do with the farewells we all experience at different times in our lives and therefore invites interpretations where expressions of acceptance, melancholy, weariness, yearning, and resignation are apt.

Many a production would place the singer at the forefront with the orchestra mixed lower, but this recording establishes a balance between Müller and the WDR Symphony Orchestra under Christoph Eschenbach's direction, a choice in keeping with the general sensibility of the project. Müller's neither engulfed by her partners nor distinct from them; instead, they inhabit the space together, resulting in musical settings that are both sumptuous and sensual. Seamlessly merging with Strauss's stirring orchestral writing, her voice suits his music splendidly, as do the silken textures that come so naturally to the WDR Symphony Orchestra.

In another smart move, Müller chose not to push the recording to the eighty-minute limit associated with the CD, and given that Strauss composed over 200 songs, she could easily have done so. Instead, we're presented with eleven songs at a concise forty-six minutes. Again, restraint works in her favour as the release leaves one satisfied but not exhausted. That she sounds so at home singing this material doesn't surprise either as her other releases feature Strauss material, specifically 2016's Traumgekrönt, which coupled Strauss with Berg and Schoenberg, and a 2014 DVD release of the opera Arabella.

Naturally a good deal of attention will be directed to the recording's Vier letzte Lieder (Four Last Songs), if for no other reason than to compare her version to others, but the seven songs, whose origins span more than sixty years, leading up to it are no mere prelude. While the radiant opening song, “Ständchen," was written in 1886 (its arrangement for soprano and orchestra appeared in 1895) when he was but twenty-two and exudes the innocence and promise of youth in its carefree tone, his final one, “Malven,” arrived sixty-two years later. “Ständchen” is wholly free of darkness, but some subtle intimation of it seeps into the orchestral version of “Morgen!,” which premiered in Brussels in 1887. Hope for what tomorrow might bring permeates this tender love song, but melancholy and longing are present too. Composed in 1900 and orchestrated in 1918, “Winterweihe” treats love as a warm counter to the coldness of the season. Just as a slow tempo, fragile violin, and harp arpeggios provide a lovely backdrop to the soprano's longing in “Morgen!,” strings and muted horns act as comforting partners to her romantic declarations in “Winterweihe.” Death and longing become more forceful presences in the poignant “Allerseelen” in the singer's words, “Today the graves are full of bloom and fragrance, once a year the dead shall hold their sway.” Written in 1901 and orchestrated seventeen years later, “Waldseligkeit” receives a rapturous reading from Müller, her voice beautifully enhanced by the sensitivity of the orchestral accompaniment. While it's natural to regard Vier letzte Lieder, which he wrote while living in exile in Switzerland in 1947 and 1948, as Strauss's last creative statement, “Malven,” his actual final lied, was composed in late 1948 and appears here in the 2014 orchestral version created for it by Wolfgang Rihm. A clear sense of farewell is conveyed in words describing hollyhocks (“tender blooms, servants of summer”) soaring up and then gently drifting away and in the wistful tone of the music.

Of course multiple recordings of Vier letzte Lieder exist, and Müller's enchanting version will hardly be the last word on the work. The version I grew up with is the transcendent one by Gundula Janowitz with Herbert von Karajan and the Berlin Philharmonic, but ones by Jessye Norman, Renée Fleming, Elisabeth Schwarzkopf, and others are available too. The intimacy Müller achieves makes her treatment a thoroughly viable one, however, even if it's less epic than some. Based on poems by Joseph von Eichendorff and Hermann Hesse, the songs are goodbyes in the profoundest sense when the texts are paired with some of Strauss's finest writing and the brilliant orchestration he crafted for them. Death here is presented as a welcome release from weariness, and the darkness oblivion brings is offset by the sense of serenity created when each song ends in a major key.

July 2022