CONVERSATIONS
with HILDEGARD BEHRENS
"A musical journey through various dimensions of time and space"
Dear
Friends at FanFaire,
My heartfelt congratulations on your 10th anniversary and my admiration
for your wonderful work!
Time rushed by and it is hard to believe that it has already been
a decade since my first interview with FanFaire!
A big, big apology for my long delay in answering your questions
about my first master class in Japan. I also promised you some
thoughts on the music included in my latest EMI-CD, "The
Very Best of Hildegard Behrens", especially on Alberic
Magnard's wonderful opera Guercoeur.
One wonders how such an authentic genius could be forgotten! I
will send you my thoughts as soon as possible, so please don't
give up on me! [CLICK
HERE to listen to an excerpt from Magnard's
Guercoeur, HEREfor other music clips from the CD, and HERE
to join the FanFaire/EMI
Classics CD GIVEAWAY.]
Last summer, I was invited to the prestigious Kusatsu
Music Festival in Japan. Famous for its hot springs,
Kusatsu is an elegant spa which is located a couple of hours from
Tokyo, up in the mountains 3,000 feet above sea level. Musicians
from all over Europe come together in August for two weeks to
perform concerts and give master classes. The temperatures were
boiling hot upon my arrival in Tokyo. However, after driving up
into the mountains, I found myself in a most beautiful countryside,
similar to landscapes in Switzerland with lush vegetation and
moderate summer temperatures.
I began my concert program with Schumann's
Frauenliebe und Leben, accompanied
by Anthony Spiri. I have loved this music
for as long as I can remember. True pathos of unconditional
love through all its stages: from the first uncertain hopes
through happiness of marriage and motherhood and finally the
death and loss of the loved partner, shines like a diamond
throughout this masterpiece. The naive and genuine emotions
move me in a similar way as Agathe's1
humble faith in the Almighty.
Our generation is suspicious of sincere emotions. Naiveté
has become synonymous with stupidity and there is a general
fear of being labeled sentimental or kitschy. Showing feelings
makes one vulnerable. Irony and sarcasm are ways of putting
up a facade of false strength.
[Click PLAY button above to view a slideshow of recital images.
The music clip is from the EMI album "The Very Best of
Hildegard Behrens" - a FanFaire/EMI
Classics CD Giveaway.]
~ ~ ~
In the second half of the concert,
I performed Arnold Schönberg's Pierrot
Lunaire for the first time, conducted by Francis
Travis. This ground-breaking, atonal composition was originally
commissioned by an Austrian actress around 1910. Schönberg
chose a selection of 21 poems from Albert Giraud's
Pierrot Lunaire, in the German translation
by Otto Erich Hartleben, and made three groups
of seven poems each. [Click PLAY button below to
view a slideshow of concert images.]
He composed for an ensemble of 5 players (8 instruments)
and created a vocal part for Sprechstimme.2
This was a novelty and therefore, in his preface to the
score, Schönberg gives precise instructions as to how
he wants the vocalist to perform. Rhythm and tempo are to
be strictly observed, while the melody, as noted, must never
sound like singing. Only in a handful of places has he explicitly
indicated "to be sung". The pitch and intervals,
minutely noted throughout, serve as a reference to form
a spoken melody, which hits the correct pitch briefly and
moves forward to the next syllable and pitch. He urges the
soloist not to bring in any additional individual expressions,
other than the ones he has asked for. WATCH
A VIDEO CLIP OF THE PERFORMANCE.
He
writes, "less is more!" As Schönberg was an
uncompromising personality, one might think that his instructions
are very rigid and limiting, but I found that there is actually
abundant room for fantasy, taste and temperament, while still
respecting the composer's wishes.
The poems tell of Pierrot, the Harlequin of the Comedia del
Arte's adventures and mishaps, his vanities, fantasies, memories
and his journey back to his home in Bergamo. His world comes
to life at full moon as a lunatic, eccentric, grotesque, elegant,
frivolous, exalted, decadent and even blasphemous dream. The
story unfolds in ever changing moods and lightings.
For each poem, Schönberg chose a different combination
of instruments, and not one is identical to another. The variety
and richness of nuances and densities are mind-boggling. Rhythms,
sounds and images are woven into a magic web of silver moon
rays. Paintings of Max Ernst, Paul Klee, Rousseau,
Dali and Picasso come to mind, as well as the ironic
wit and cutting edge of Wilhelm Busch's drawings
and poetry. Every moment is suspended in the leggerezza
and elegance of the Comedia del Arte. It was an incredible
experience and privilege to travel through this wonder world!
~ ~ ~
The morning after the concert, all
vocal students were scheduled to audition for my master class. In
order to avoid a competitive atmosphere, I had announced beforehand
that I would accept everybody. The audition was very relaxed and
informative. The students all had degrees from various Japanese
colleges and universities. One young woman had an engagement with
the Tokyo Opera Company. Each student had prepared a repertoire
according to his or her aspirations. There were two wonderfully
flexible pianists taking turns accompanying them.
Last spring, when I was asked to teach these master classes, I had
requested one-on-one meetings as opposed to teaching all the students
together and in front of an audience.
My own singing teacher had been a mezzo-soprano, whose career was
capped by the war. As a singing professor approaching retirement,
she was embittered and acting out much of her anger and frustration
on her students. This got in the way of the trust needed between
teacher and student. Working with her was a traumatic experience
for me. Around the time of my debut at the Metropolitan Opera, a
colleague had taken me to a public master class held by a famous
dramatic soprano. The Dame in her mid-eighties was insultingly blunt
with the young students and embarrassed them with rather personal
comments. The audience seemed to enjoy this coercive spectacle.
Over the years many colleagues have told me about public master
classes where former big names were apparently feeding their egos
by exposing the young students more than necessary. Due to these
experiences, I developed an aversion to public master classes and
so I rejected all offers. My reasoning was that the relationship
between teacher and student is delicate and vulnerable and that
the concentration is scattered in front of an audience. Instead,
I would invite interested young studio singers at opera houses to
meet casually and discuss singing-related questions, which I would
then answer to the best of my knowledge. In Kusatsu, the master
classes took place in a beautiful round chapel with rich, clean
acoustics, amidst trees and creeks with the sound of birds and crickets
chirping through the open doors.
Once the classes were to begin, I saw that they had been planned
and organized in the usual way, with audience and even journalists
present. [Click PLAY button below to
view a slideshow of photos from a masterclass.]
As you can imagine,
I was irritated at first, but since the overall atmosphere
was so friendly and pleasant, I decided to give it a try.
Everyone was immediately absorbed in a most concentrated and
creative atmosphere and I soon realized how efficient this
method of teaching can be. Each student can profit not only
from his or her own lesson, but from witnessing the other
students' lessons as well. It is a well known phenomenon that
it is easier to recognize problems and mistakes in another
person's performance thanks to the distance from one's own
self. The audience, if concentrated, can even generate extra
energy. I realized that the key to a good experience for everyone
in such a situation is integrity. The professor must resist
the temptation to show off at the expense of the students. WATCH
A VIDEO CLIP of a MASTERCLASS
with HILDEGARD BEHRENS
I had been so fixated on the negative aspects of having an
audience and its distracting influence, that I had "thrown
out the baby with the bathwater". Now the spell was finally
broken and I gladly accepted the invitation to return and
continue my master classes next August.
~ ~ ~
I had to leave
Kusatsu before the festival officially ended, since I had
a commitment for a concert with Mauricio Kagel
at the Beethoven Festival in Bonn. Held in honor of his 75th
birthday, the concert was to be a whole evening of Kagel's
music, conducted by the composer himself. I had been a Kagel
fan since my early student times and looked forward immensely
to this collaboration. His Mitternachtstück
is a piece in four movements, based on diary entries by the
young Robert Schumann. Schumann's prose is
bold, eccentric and expressionistic, his ideas reaching ahead
of his time. Kagel liked to call Schumann the first surrealist
writer. Kagel's gift to create authentic music of great beauty
and theatrical impact, and the intelligence of his humor make
him one of the greatest composers of our time.
[Click PLAY button at left to view a slideshow of rehearsal
and performance photos of Kagel's Mitternachtstück.]WATCH
a VIDEO CLIP of the PERFORMANCE
In the early years of my career,
Kagel was working and performing at the WDR (Westdeutscher Rundfunk)
in Cologne. Like Luciano Berio, of whom I was also
a big fan, Kagel loved to explore the technical possibilities of
instruments like the accordion which were underrated in the world
of classical music. He wrote wonderful pieces for groups of instruments.
The players for whom he wrote were workers in factories and coal-mines.
They adored him for discovering new potential of their instruments
and enabling them to play wonderful music together.
I remember one Sunday morning traveling with my son Philip,
who was about five at the time, from Düsseldorf to Cologne
to see Kagel's Bestiarium. The Maestro,
a kind and unpretentious man of natural authority, gave an introduction
in which he told us about the cruel custom in South America of hunting
and killing song birds. He played melodies on small, painted ceramic
flutes, imitating the mating songs of these beautiful creatures.
Unable to resist the mating call, they follow the sound only to
be caught or shot by their hunters.
This was shocking and sad and the performance of Bestiarium
which followed remained equally vivid in my memory.
On the podium there were two puppet-theaters about 7 ft. high, with
open backdrops. An actress was moving behind these theaters, towering
over the miniature stages. Her costume was a nurse's uniform with
a tight cloth tied around her hair. She wore strange glasses and
her nose was covered with an old-fashioned porcelain electric plug
which looked like a pig's snout. She had a long stick like the ones
Geography teachers use to point things out on large maps. On the
puppet stage before her, were little rubber duckies with cute baby
faces. The woman, who looked like a cruel prison guard, started
abusing and beating these little rubber duckies, which made squeaking
sounds so miserable that one wanted to stop her. It was so amazing
how Kagel made the rubber ducks come to life and made the audience
feel empathy with them and detest the abuser. The depth of his understanding
fascinated me.
For me those two weeks were an exciting journey through various
dimensions of time and space: from singing Schumann’s
most beautiful music and Schönberg’s
Sprechgesang2
to reciting Schumann's fantastic prose, set into
Kagel's irresistible sounds and rhythms. Schumann's
discourse about the life and afterlife of tones and especially the
hierarchy of tones culminated in the 12 tone theory of Schönberg
, one hundred years later. The full moon once again plays a major
role.
Last November, Kagel's concert was repeated at the Berlin Philharmonic.
Unfortunately, the Maestro was ill and could not conduct this second
concert. His music, however, was enthusiastically received in Berlin
as it was in Bonn. NOTES: 1Agathe
- the heroine in the opera Der
Freischutz by Carl Maria von Weber, a role which
Ms. Behrens sang in her early career and recorded with the renowned
conductor Rafael Kubelik.
2Sprechstimmeand Sprechgesang - German for spoken-voice
and spoken-song, musical terms referring to an expressionist vocal
technique that falls between singing and speaking. Sprechstimme
is most closely associated with Arnold Schönberg (as exemplified
by his Pierrot Lunaire) and the composers of the Second
Viennese School and was adopted by Alban Berg who incorporated the
technique in his well-known operas Wozzeck and Lulu.
The two terms are often used interchangeably, although Sprechgesang
is more directly related to the recitative or parlando
technique found in works of late 19th and early 20th century Romantic
German Opera. - FanFaire.
-
from the New York Times review of Ms. Behrens' performance as Isolde
in the Metropolitan Opera production of Tristan und Isolde,
Richard Wagner's celebration of death as the passage to the ultimate
union, as we celebrate Ms. Behrens' ascent into a state of "supreme
bliss" (höchste Lust!) "
...undivided, one forever without end" (um ungetrennt, ewig
einig, ohne End) with her Maker who dearly blessed and loved
her in life.
Click for full quote.