Every time I listen to Mignon (aka Kennst du das Land) by Hugo Wolf, I ask myself how it is possible that the composer doesn’t have a statue in the main square of every town. And then I think that not even Franz Schubert has a statue in the main square of every town. In fact, neither of them even has a street in Barcelona (unlike Verdi, Mozart, Beethoven or Sibelius, who are more fortunate).
All right, I’m exaggerating (or not. Or not much). I’m only trying to convey my feelings when I listen to this song, which include absolute admiration and bewilderment that Wolf doesn’t have the recognition I think he deserves. And yes, I know, I say it often: not even chocolate pleases everyone. But it pleases almost everyone. And Wolf, I’d say not. Unfortunately. Perhaps by sharing this song on Liederabend someone else will fall in love with him?
The poem is by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, and it is well known, at least the first line; the expression “the land where lemon tree blooms” has transcended it, and not only in German. Goethe included it in the novel Wilhelm Meister’s Apprenticeship, where some of the characters sing up to fourteen songs, some of which have become part of the lieder repertoire. Since many years ago I devoted a series to explaining the plot in order to place the songs in context, I won’t go into it again now, and I invite you to read the article where I spoke about Kennst du das Land, the first song of Mignon, a girl of about twelve whom Wilhelm Meister has rescued from a group of travelling performers who mistreated her.
At the moment the girl sings it, neither Wilhelm Meister nor we know much more about her, but the song gives us clues about her past; clues that are more obvious, of course, once we know the whole story (afterwards, everything is easier). In three stanzas, Mignon tells us that she comes from Italy (the fact that she sings the song in Italian, as the narrator says, helps with this shrewd deduction), that she lived in a wealthy household, and that she was kidnapped.
All three stanzas have the same structure: first, the description of a place; then, the question: “Do you know it?”; and finally, the desire to go there. Wolf’s song is strophic, quite unusual for him, and each stanza has three clearly differentiated parts: the first four lines are rather descriptive, at least at the beginning; the piano then anticipates the exaltation of the question, which is repeated, and finally voice and piano express the vehement desire, laden at the same time with nostalgia. In each stanza Wolf adds variations that lead towards the final outburst of emotion: the girl’s fear when she is taken away, the need to return home, the certainty that she will never be able to do so…
Kennst du das Land is a magnificent song, six long minutes of overwhelming music. If we return to the novel, the narrator describes how Wilhelm Meister receives the song: “Our friend liked in particular the melody and the expression, although he could not understand all the words.” And this also describes what happens to us listeners: even if we don’t understand the words, it grips us (and when we do understand them, it grips us even more).
Listen to it in the version by Dorothea Röschmann and Mitsuko Uchida. And tell me: have you fallen in love with Wolf (unless you already were)? And, where you live, is there a street named after Hugo Wolf? Or at least after Franz Schubert?
Kennst du das Land, wo die Zitronen blühn,
Im dunkeln Laub die Gold-Orangen glühn,
Ein sanfter Wind vom blauen Himmel weht,
Die Myrte still und hoch der Lorbeer steht?
Kennst du es wohl?
Dahin! dahin
Möcht ich mit dir, o mein Geliebter, ziehn.
Kennst du das Haus? Auf Säulen ruht sein Dach.
Es glänzt der Saal, es schimmert das Gemach,
Und Marmorbilder stehn und sehn mich an:
Was hat man dir, du armes Kind, getan?
Kennst du es wohl?
Dahin! dahin
Möcht ich mit dir, o mein Beschützer, ziehn.
Kennst du den Berg und seinen Wolkensteg?
Das Maultier sucht im Nebel seinen Weg;
In Höhlen wohnt der Drachen alte Brut;
Es stürzt der Fels und über ihn die Flut!
Kennst du ihn wohl?
Dahin! dahin
Geht unser Weg! O Vater, laß uns ziehn!
Know’st thou the land where lemon-trees do bloom,
And oranges like gold in leafy gloom;
A gentle wind from deep blue heaven blows,
The myrtle thick, and high the laurel grows?
Know’st thou it, then?
’Tis there! ’tis there,
O my belov’d one, I with thee would go!
Know’st thou the house, its porch with pillars tall?
The rooms do glitter, glitters bright the hall,
And marble statues stand, and look me on:
What’s this, poor child, to thee they’ve done?
Know’st thou it, then?
’Tis there! ’tis there,
O my protector, I with thee would go!
Know’st thou the mountain bridge that hangs on cloud?
The mules in mist grope o’er the torrent loud,
In caves lie coil’d the dragon’s ancient brood,
The crag leaps down and over it the flood:
Know’st thou it, then?
’Tis there! ’tis there
Our way runs; O my father, wilt thou go?
Related articles
Remember to live (I)
Imagine there was the Art Song Awards, a kind of Academy Awards (I wonder... how would it be known? The Schuberts? Would the statuette be a linden branch?). Anyway, if the awards existed, Johann Wolfgang Goethe would clearly be nominated to two categories: "The most musicalized poet" and "The most adapted poem ever". So far, I've published about ninety posts on the blog's Catalan version; twelve of the songs have already been Goethe's poems, the only poet that could put him in the shade would be Rückert, but just because I have weakness for him (to be honest, though, they are far from being comparable...)
Remember to live (II)
Last week I started to talk about Goethe's Wilhelm Meister's Apprenticeship and its songs. As I told you back then, this week I would explain some more things about Wilhelm's life before starting with the first song. If you are thinking of reading the novel, I would recommend to go direct to the song. If you continue reading, though, I hope you have enough time and energy. Are you ready?
O my father, wilt thou go?
- “Know’st thou the land?”
- “It must mean Italy,” said Wilhelm: “where didst thou get the little song?”
- “Italy!” said Mignon with an earnest air: “If thou go to Italy, take me along with thee;   for I am too cold here.”
- “Hast thou been there already, little dear?” said Wilhelm. But the child was silent, and   nothing more could be got out of her.
