SCHUMANN: ”COMPLETE SONGS, VOL. 11″

Müller-Brachmann, McGreevey, Doufexis, Broderick; A. Thompson, Loges; Johnson, piano. Texts and translations. Hyperion CDJ33111

German baritone Hanno Müller-Brachmann and five collaborators, an assortment of Robert Schumann’s late-career rarities in this final release in Graham Johnson’s acclaimed eleven-volume collection of the composer’s complete songs. This whole project for the Hyperion — a worthy successor to Johnson’s groundbreaking complete Schubert series — has been a dozen years in the making; the present entry, while finely sung and produced, lacks the thematic unity of some of the earlier releases in the series. It is such a grab-bag of selections that it appears somewhat cobbled together from the leftovers of the Schumann songbook.

The focus of this program is songs dating from Schumann’s Dresden and Düsseldorf years, during which the composer, faced with deteriorating health, tried to keep up with the radical changes taking place in German music, most of which originated with Wagner and Liszt. Critical opinion has long been divided about these late songs, which find Schumann working in a less strophic style and experimenting with chromaticism and continuous melody. While it is difficult to find a common thread between the twenty-eight selections on the disc, there is some elegance in the fact that many of Schumann’s late songs were part of the program on Hyperion’s first release in this series, recorded in 1995, which featured soprano Christine Schäfer.

The through-composed nature of these songs (pointing the way toward Mahler and Wolf) is well served by a fine arsenal of dramatic voices, foremost amongst them Müller-Brachmann, an ensemble member of the Berlin Staatsoper unter den Linden, who makes his Hyperion debut with this release. Johnson is firm and persuasive throughout in his sensitive, generous accompaniment.

Five selections from Sechs Gesänge (Op. 89), a cycle from 1850 that is roughly contemporary with the Third Symphony and the cello concerto, open the album with a big statement. Müller-Brachmann’s forceful renditions perfectly capture the often melancholy drama of these songs, and Johnson is careful not to let the thick textures of the music compete with Müller-Brachmann’s soulful voice.

Soprano Katherine Broderick gives a powerful account of Drei Gesänge (Op. 95), based on poems of Byron (in German translation), in even, measured tones. She has a sprightly voice that swells nicely with bright shadings, and Johnson matches her in bounce and agility. The last of these, the rousing “Dem Helden,” is performed in robust ceremonial style.

At the center of the disc is Minnespiel, Op. 101, for four voices, an eight-song cycle based on Friedrich Rückert’s Liebesfrühling (Love’s Spring). In the fourth selection, “Mein schöner Stern,” tenor Adrian Thompson is feather-soft and ardent, if a bit too yearning. Thomas and soprano Geraldine McGreevy balance each other out in “Die Tausend Grüße.” Here, Johnson appropriately takes a back seat and lets the bouncing vocal harmonies do their work. Thomas returns for one of the disc’s last selections, “Provenzalisches Lied,” from the cycle Des Sängers Fluch (Op. 139), which he attacks with an exaggerated passaggio that verges on parody.

A chronological outlier on the disc is “Sechs Gedichte aus dem Liederbuch eines Malers,” the last of the Lieder from Schumann’s outstandingly prolific year of 1840 to be recorded by Hyperion. Here, Müller-Brachmann seems to be distancing himself from Fischer-Dieskau (with whom the younger singer studied, and who recorded the cycle for DG, with Christoph Eschenbach). In these six selections, Müller-Brachmann is throatier and darker, and his voice wobbles in the lower notes. Johnson is a gentle guide through the music, even if the sustain is heavy at times, as in “Sonntags am Rhein.” Müller-Brachmann, in his rich and quivering tones, is less dynamic and lyrical. A highlight is “Dichters Genesung,” which is muscular and smooth. “Liebesbotschaft” brims with repressed emotion. Müller-Brachmann’s rendition is raw, with built-in vulnerability, which adds tenderness in place of finesse and expresses itself in some shaky melismatic moments.

The last track is “Handschuh,” Op. 87, a Schiller poem setting that is relatively without melody and contains no significant piano interludes. Its arioso-like quality is heightened by Schumann’s marking “Mit durchaus freiem Vortrag” (to be performed freely throughout), which gives Müller-Brachmann license to use much rubato. The music comes abruptly to a full stop with Schiller’s text: a simple ending that makes for an effectively understated coda to the disc, as well as to this massive project.

For Johnson, the completion of his Schumann cycle is a major accomplishment and a worthy addition to his discography. The lack of thematic focus in this particular selection of the material seems a minor objection in light of the beauty of these recordings. As added incentive, the CD includes a comprehensive sixty-seven-page booklet of song-by-song analysis and commentary by Johnson himself.

A. J. GOLDMANN