All Lieder talk about you. About you, About me, about us… With Lieder, it happens as with fairy tales, that if we stop to look at them carefully we find a metaphor of life itself. This is one of the things I experience more and more as a Lied student. And that is what happens with the Beethoven song that I am going to comment on.
This article starts the month of July and ends the so-called regular season of Liederabend. Next week, the summer season (so to speak) is beginning, which in recent years has grew into two parts. July is for the students following the ESMUC Master's Degree in Lied; We're collaborating for the fourth time in a row with the subject "Literature of the genre. Repertoire of the German lied", taught by pianist Viviana Salisi. The final work project module involves writing a post for this blog; each student chooses a Lied that he or she knows well and talks about it in our usual format [...]
"A Lied is like a micro-opera." This expression is often used to emphasize the difficulty of conveying the wide content of a song in the couple of minutes it lasts. I don’t really like this simile; I understand that it's usually addressed to people familiar with opera, but I don’t like it because it can be confusing: a Lied is not an opera, neither big nor small. And it is not for a number of reasons. First, Opera has a marked narrative component, while Lied, in general, does not; some Lieder tell us a story, like Erlkönig or Der Zwerg, [...]
For lied lovers, last week’s major news was the confirmation that the Schubertíada will take place this summer. And with the second half of August on the horizon I moved mentally to the Empordà, the region were Vilabertran is placed, and I remembered a photo of a flowering rosemary I took last year at the Canonica in spring, I think. And one thing leads to another, and I reached Canticel, a beautiful song composed from a beautiful poem. And since the poem is by Josep Carner and these days we recall the 50th anniversary of his death, it seems that everything fits just right, doesn't it?
Antonín Dvořák started as a director at the National Conservatory of Music in New York in September 1892. He was reluctant to leave Europe, but when his wife found out about the salary he has been offered, all his excuses became useless, and they packed up and moved. Jeannette Meyer Thurber, a wealthy lady born in New York, a Danish violinist’s daughter, was behind that generous offer. After engaging other wealthy music lovers, in 1885, she founded the Conservatory which, according to her desires, would grant scholarships to students who could not afford [...]