New York - Alice Tully Hall
31-1-1999
It was a "love in", and, for me, it was an "admire in".
"Winterreise'' is unquestionably the Olympus of cycles for almost all lovers of lieder. There are all kinds of ways in which it can be interpreted, and work well. I saw one this afternoon. The voice is remarkable, it has power to spare and it can caress the softest notes imaginable. And that's exactly where the problem was for me. The dynamics were always "stage center" a very soft line here, followed by a real blast of noise, a loving declamation, though always sung and in tune, followed by an outburst of some kind of rage that I'm not sure I understood. For me, the protagonist should see himself as the victim, the one who has lost it all through no perceived fault of his own. In Quastfhoff, I heard a man who was telling me that he knows he is responsible for what has happened, and he is plunging into some unreality because of whatever it is or is not that he did. It was defiant and ultimately not sympathetic to me. Let's just say that I found it too muscular.
However, one cannot fault the vocal execution at any level. Remarkable! The accompanist was of one mind with him and as music it was quite an afternoon.
Gute Nacht was sublime, and I was very moved by Der Lindenbaum, Fruhlingstraum and Das Wirtshaus. Der Leiermann was sung very beautifully without any dynamic indulgence and it ended the cycle on a very high note for me.
The audience stood and applauded for as long as I can ever remember, and the general comments from the group outside were certainly not in sympathy with my point of view, though, I wasn't alone. Being alone can be a terrible thing :-).
Bob Rideout (31-1-1999)
I had the great good fortune to attend T. Quasthoff's performance of Winterreise yesterday. The last time I heard a Lieder singer of this quality was DFD in 1983. The audience went nuts, and rightly so. Perhaps it is my age showing (just turned 66), but somehow as I prepared for the recital by hauling out the music and lyrics, I was moved to introspection and tears. It made the experience of hearing Quasthoff all the more meaningful for me. It is a very personal thing. I believe the correct word is "innig." I stand to be corrected.
Richard Allen (1-2-1999)
I was with Bob on Sunday afternoon and I was one of the people with a different opinion, although I don't think we actually differ about what we heard, just how we responded to it.
I always go to a live "Winterreise" performance with a combination of hope and fear of disappointment. Much as I love the cycle, it usually works best for me if I hear it alone, away from any distractions, which means recorded. With Thomas Quasthoff, the communication was direct and powerful enough that I forgot about being in a crowd of people and was able to concentrate totally on the singing and playing. Maybe I was in an unusually receptive mood, but it turned out to be the most moving live "Winterreise" I have experienced since F-D and Brendel, more than 20 years ago. Somewhere along the way the tears came, and I don't usually cry during Lieder recitals. I'm not a fan of standing ovations either, but I stood on Sunday.
OTOH, even though our response to the concert differed, I agree with Bob's assessment of the "either/or" character of what Quasthoff did. There is certainly room in "Winterreise" for more variety of dynamics and vocal color than Quasthoff offered. As for the anger, that seemed entirely appropriate to me, although at some point you expect that emotion to give way to something else, and it really never quite did. I think of the "Winterreise" protagonist as more vulnerable than he came across in Quasthoff's performance, but muscular or not, I had a sense of much more involvement in the cycle than I usually find with "younger generation" singers. I am quite happy to place Sunday's "Winterreise" alongside those of FiDi, Fassbaender, and Schreier as a one that made a real impression on me and that I would have been sorry to miss.
And there you have it.
Celia A. Sgroi (2-2-1999)
My partner and I purchased tickets for the Tully Winterreise the week before his Philharmonic debut. We purchased two extra tickets just in case we could convince someone or other to join us. As it turned out, one of our dearest friends, who has retired to France but was in New York for the weekend, joined us with her daughter, who had come down from DC. Barbara and her late husband were great lieder lovers, so we were particularly pleased to share this experience with her.
I must tell you that, as a professional singer myself (a countertenor), I tend to be far too critical of my fellow artists, as I am on myself. Be that as it may, I can't remember ever being so moved in a concert hall before. Here is a baritone voice of great beauty produced with the utmost ease. He had the vocal chops to handle every potential vocal pitfall Schubert put in his path.
But this was by far the least impressive aspect of the performance. What impressed to an even greater extent was the artistry on display, the complete identification with the character being portrayed (for there was nothing detached or analytical about his presentation, however clearly thought-out it was). Barbara said to me as we left the hall (for until then we were both in tears and could not speak), that she had heard so many Winterreise performances, and thought no one could touch Dieskau, but Quasthoff, through the most simple and direct of means, had made this thrice-familiar (at least to us!) music sound utterly fresh and new. And Marianne, her daughter, said that hearing this music, which was so much a part of her childhood, in such an extraordinary context was unbearably moving.
If I had one criticism, it was not of Mr. Quasthoff at all, but of his accompanist. For my taste, Charles Spencer underplayed much of the music. His playing seemed dry to my taste and without a wide range of color. However, as the cycle progressed, his playing improved, and I found his work on Das Wirtshaus to be his best playing of the afternoon.
There were so many amazing moments, and I was captivated from the very first "Fremd bin ich eingezogen". I am very taken with Mr. Quasthoff's recording of this work, but the intensity of his live performance was almost painful. He inhabited the music in such a way that most performers only dream about. The immediacy of the communication was something I have never experienced to this degree in any other singer. For me, only Vickers, Scotto, Stratas, Rysanek and David Daniels have come close to these heights, and those were operatic performances. For me and my friends, the most movingly presented songs were Der Lindenbaum, Irrlicht, Frühlingstraum, Der Wegweiser, Das Wirtshaus, Die Nebensonnen and, unforgettably, Der Leiermann. I could not take my eyes off his face, either here or in Die Nebensonnen. What an expressive, haunting face he has. I'm sorry to have such a fan's response, but this performance touched me to the core of my being.
What was also amazing and laudatory, was Mr. Quasthoff's endurance. Never once did I see him shift his legs. Watching him walk, I realized this might have been out of necessity to maintain his balance while singing, but physical necessity or not, his stamina was amazing.
Had it not been for the man seated next to me finally breaking the silence (which seemed to stretch forever) with the first applause, I think we might have sat in stunned silence for another thirty seconds. This to me is the greatest praise a performing artist can receive: when he or she has reached an audience to such an extent that applause seems futile to express gratitude for the journey they have taken together. That said, the applause, when it came, was tumultuous.
Daniel Gundlach (3-2-1999)