in short - New York Philharmonic

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“Ruhe, meine Seele,” Op. 27, No. 1
“Cäcilie,” Op. 27, No. 2
“Pilgers Morgenlied,” Op. 33, No. 4
I
n the course of his long career, Richard
Strauss’s attention tended to rove sequentially from genre to genre. He would delve exhaustively into the possibilities of each until,
feeling he had mastered its challenges, he
switched focus to a new compositional arena.
His more than 200 Lieder, however, proved to
be a more continuous strand weaving through
his entire life. His first composition, as a child
of six, was a Christmas carol, and he died at the
age of 85 leaving his supernal Vier letzte Lieder
(Four Last Songs) as a valedictory statement
and one final song — “Malven” — to be rediscovered and performed 36 years after his death.
Most of Strauss’s songs were written for, and
championed by, his wife, the soprano Pauline
de Ahna. The composer often collaborated with
her in performance, either as a pianist in recital
or as a conductor in full orchestral performances. When her voice grew unreliable and her
stage deportment increasingly bizarre, other
singers succeeded her as the anointed priestesses of Strauss’s Lieder, chief among them Elisabeth Schumann and Elena Gerhart.
“Ruhe, meine Seele” resulted from a trip
Strauss took to Berlin in 1894 to lead the premiere of his tone poem Macbeth. There he became acquainted with a group of young poets
who were intent on pursuing a literary path that
verged sharply from the highly perfumed, sentimental poetry of the mid-19th century. Among
them was Karl Henckell, a Socialist idealist. In
Strauss’s setting of his introspective poem
“Ruhe, meine Seele,” a static, nearly silent opening is disturbed as a glowing ray of sunshine
breaks through, and a turbulent central section
resolves into a declaration that “these are momentous times.” Henckell aptly described the
song’s odd combination of emotions when he
later wrote to the composer that he was “moved
to hear these verses of my tempestuous youth …
interpreted in music that shivers so lightly, with
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IN SHORT
Born: June 11, 1864, in Munich, Bavaria
“Died: September 8, 1949, in GarmischPartenkirchen, Germany
Works composed and premiered: “Ruhe,
meine Seele” completed May 17, 1894, in its
voice-and-piano version, the composer’s orchestrated version completed June 9, 1948; premiere
unknown. “Cäcilie” completed September 9,
1894, in its version for voice and piano, the
composer’s orchestrated version completed
September 20, 1897; premiere of piano and
voice version unknown, orchestral version on
November 21, 1897, in Brussels, Belgium, the
composer conducting, and Pauline de Ahna
(Strauss), soloist. “Pilgers Morgenlied” composed
December 21, 1896–January 25, 1897; premiered November 13, 1897, in Elberfeld, Germany, apparently with Karl Scheidemantel, soloist
New York Philharmonic premieres and
most recent performances: “Ruhe, meine
Seele,” premiered September 20, 1995, Kurt
Masur, conductor, Jessye Norman, soloist; most
recently performed March 31, 2001, Christoph
Eschenbach, conductor, Barbara Bonney, soloist.
“Cäcilie” premiered November 6, 1904, Walter
Damrosch conducting the New York Symphony
(a New York Philharmonic forebear), Etta De
Montjäu, soloist; most recently performed September 17, 1997, Kurt Masur, conductor, Renée
Fleming, soloist. “Pilgers Morgenlied” premiered
March 25, 1904, the composer conducting, David
Scull Bispham, soloist; most recent performance,
February 12, 1911, Gustav Mahler, conductor,
David Scull Bispham, soloist
Estimated durations: “Ruhe, meine Seele,”
ca. 4 minutes; “Cäcilie,” ca. 2 minutes; “Pilgers
Morgenlied,” ca. 4 minutes
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hardly a wave breaking.” Fifty-four years later,
Strauss subjected it to a bit of revision for the
orchestra version, inserting a few extra measures to clarify the pace of the dramatic timing.
The orchestration itself is as sensitive as one
would expect from one of the great masters of
the art; the large orchestra (with triple winds)
never sounds bloated, notwithstanding the
magnitude of its forces.
Strauss presented “Cäcilie” to his wife on their
wedding day, September 10, 1894 (the day after
he wrote it), along with several other songs. The
Cäcilie of the title, never mentioned in the poem,
was married to the text’s author, Heinrich Hart.
This is Strauss at full throttle, giving free rein to
his signature side-swipes of chromatic harmony
and an impassioned vocal line that, at the end,
soars brilliantly over the accompaniment at two
life-affirming phrases: “Wenn du es wüsstest, was
Leben heisst” (“If you knew what it is to live”) and
“wenn du es wüsstest, du lebtest mit mir” (“if you
knew it, you would live with me”).
“Pilgers Morgenlied” is subtitled “An Lila.”
That was the nickname of a young lady Goethe
had met, and apparently reacted to in a passionate way, during a visit to Homburg (in Germany’s
Saar region) in the spring of 1772. In fact, he
wrote his poem “Pilgers Morgenlied” on the
very morning of his departure from that city.
When Strauss approached the text a century
and a quarter later, he conceived it with an impetuous orchestral part. In this case, Strauss
was certainly not thinking of his wife’s soprano
voice; “Pilgers Morgenlied” is specifically intended for baritone — and, indeed, it sits on the
top storey of the baritone range, twice requiring firm attacks on the high-lying note of G.
Instrumentation: “Ruhe, meine Seele” calls for
two flutes and piccolo, two oboes and English
horn, two clarinets and bass clarinet, two bassoons, four horns, two trumpets, three trombones, tuba, timpani, celesta, harp, and strings,
in addition to the soprano. “Cäcilie” is scored for
two flutes, two oboes, two clarinets, two bassoons, four horns, two trumpets, three trombones, tuba, timpani, harp, and strings, in
addition to the soprano. “Pilgers Morgenlied”
calls for two flutes and piccolo, two oboes, two
clarinets and E-flat clarinet, three bassoons, four
horns, two trumpets, three trombones, tuba, and
strings, plus baritone.
With Piano or Orchestra
Nearly all of Strauss’s songs were conceived as classic Lieder —
that is, for solo singer with piano accompaniment. But Strauss
lived in an age when the orchestral Lied was establishing itself as
a viable genre, nowhere more vividly than in the works of Gustav
Mahler. It seemed natural for a composer with so rich a palette as
Strauss to expand his piano parts into orchestral scores, the more
so since he was more accomplished as a conductor than as a pianist. On some occasions, Strauss orchestrated his songs not long
after completing their piano versions, as was the case with “Cäcilie.” At other times, he returned to orchestrate a song years after
it had been composed, as we see from the 54-year gap between
the two versions of “Ruhe, meine Seele.” Eleven of his songs
skipped the piano-accompanied phase entirely, and sprang forth
in full orchestral garb, as evidenced in “Pilgers Morgenlied.”
Richard Strauss and his wife, Pauline, in 1894,
the year he wrote “Cäcilie” for her
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TEXTS AND TRANSLATIONS
Three Songs by Richard Strauss
“Ruhe, meine Seele”
Text by Karl Henckell (1864–1929)
Nicht ein Lüftchen regt sich leise,
sanft entschlummert ruht der Hain;
durch der Blätter dunkle Hülle
stiehlt sich lichter sonnenschein.
Not a breeze is stirring lightly,
the wood lies gently slumbering;
through the dark cover of leaves
steals bright sunshine.
Ruhe, ruhe, meine Seele,
deine Stürme gingen wild,
hast getobt und hast gezittert,
wie die Brandung, wenn sie schwillt.
Rest, rest, my soul,
your storms have gone wild,
have raged and have trembled,
like the surf, when it breaks.
Diese Zeiten sind gewaltig,
bringen Herz Und Hirn in Not —
ruhe, ruhe, meine Seele,
und vergiß, was dich bedroht!
These times are powerful,
bringing torment to heart and mind;
rest, rest, my soul,
and forget what threatens you!
“Cäcilie”
Text by Heinrich Hart (1855–1906)
Wenn du es wüßtest,
was träumen heißt von brennenden Küssen,
von Wandern und Ruhen mit der Geliebten,
aug’ in Auge,
und kosend und plaudernd,
wenn du es wüßtest,
du neigtest dein Herz!
If you but knew
what ’tis to dream of burning kisses,
of wandering and resting with one’s beloved,
gazing fondly,
and cuddling and chatting,
if you but knew,
you would incline your heart to me!
Wenn du es wüßtest,
was bangen heißt in einsamen Nächten,
umschauert vom Sturm, da
niemand tröstet
milden Mundes die kampfmüde Seele,
wenn du es wüßtest,
du kämst zu mir.
If you but knew
the anguish of lonely nights,
rocked by the storm when none is there
to soothe and comfort,
with a mild voice your strife-weary spirit,
if you but knew,
you would come to me.
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Wenn du es wüßtest,
was leben heißt, umhaucht von der Gottheit
weltschaffendem Atem,
zu schweben empor, lichtgetragen,
zu seligen Höh’n,
wenn du es wüßtest,
du lebtest mit mir!
If you but knew
what living is, in the creative breath of God,
Lord and Maker,
to float up, borne by the light,
to blessed heights,
if you but knew,
then you would live with me!
“Pilgers Morgenlied”
Text Johann Wolfgang von by Goethe (1749–1832)
Morgennebel, Lila,
hüllen deinen Thurm ein.
Soll ich ihn zum
letztenmal nicht sehn!
Doch mir schweben
tausend Bilder
seliger Erinn’rung
heilig warm um’s Herz.
Wie er da stand,
Zeuge meiner Wonne,
als zum erstenmal
du dem Freundling
ängstlich liebevoll begegnetest,
und mit einemmal
ew’ge Flammen
in die Seel’ ihm warfst!
Zische, Nord,
tausend-schlangen-züngig
mir ums Haupt!
Beugen sollst du’s nicht!
Beugen magst du
Kind’scher Zweige Haupt,
von der Sonne
Muttergegenwart geschieden.
Allgegenwärt’ge Liebe!
Durchglühest mich;
beutst dem Wetter die Stirn,
Gefahren die Brust,
hast mir gegossen
ins früh welkende Herz
doppeltes Leben,
Freude, zu leben, und Mut!
Morning mist, Lila,
wraps around your tower.
Should I not see it
one last time!
But a thousand images
of happy times
float through my memory,
and warm the heart.
like when this
timid person stood there,
a witness to my pleasure,
and you, right from
that first meeting,
ignited eternal flames
in the soul.
Hiss, Northwinds,
with a thousand-serpentine-tongues,
around my head!
I’ll not bow to you!
May you not bow either,
immature twigs,
cut off from the presence
of nurturing Mother sun.
All-encompassing love!
Shine through me
to face the storm head-on,
danger filling the breast.
You have poured
into my prematurely fading heart
a renewed will to live,
a joy in life,
and courage!
(Please turn the page quietly.)
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