Posted in Classical, Lieder on Jun 30th, 2008 2 Comments »
“Die junge Nonne” is one of Schubert’s greatest songs. I have written an appreciation of it here.
Margaret Price’s recording of this song is of the very highest quality, superbly accompanied by Graham Johnson.
Posted in Country Music on Jun 30th, 2008 No Comments »
My appreciation of this touching, artless and heartfelt song, written about the death of her mother, is here.
Posted in Country Music on Jun 30th, 2008 No Comments »
In my other blog, I have done a number of posts of appreciation of singers and musicians from all genres of music. My appreciation of this Patty Griffin song is here.
Posted in Classical, Going to Sleep, Lieder on Jun 30th, 2008 2 Comments »
“Schlafendes Jesuskind” is the most approachable of Hugo Wolf’s songs. It’s a settng of a Morike poem about the sleeping Christchild.
I came to Wolf late - not really getting to grips with his declamatory style. And the orchestral versions of some of his songs made approaching them easier for me. The first time I heard this song was at a concert in November 1981, where the songs were shared between John Shirley-Quirk and Elizabeth Connell, with the BBC Symphony Orchestra under Ferdinand Leitner.
Here is Elizabeth Connell singing “Schlafendes Jesuskind”. I love the way she floats the word “Himmelskind” at the end.
The song starts 20 seconds in, after audience rustling and settling.
Here are the words.
Schlafendes Jesuskind
Sohn der Jungfrau, Himmelskind! am Boden,
Auf dem Holz der Schmerzen eingeschlafen,
Das der fromme Meister, sinnvoll spielend,
Deinen leichten Träumen unterlegte;
Blume du, noch in der Knospe dämmernd
Eingehüllt die Herrlichkeit des Vaters!
O wer sehen könnte, welche Bilder
Hinter dieser Stirne, diesen schwarzen
Wimpern sich in sanftem Wechsel malen!
Sohn der Jungfrau, Himmelskind!
Sleeping Christchild
Son of the Virgin, child of Heaven, lying on the floor
asleep on the wood of suffering
that the pious painter has placed -
a meaningful allusion - under your light dreams;
You flower, even in the bud, darkling and sheathed,
still the glory of God the Father!
O, who could see,
behind this brow, these dark lashes,
what softly-changing pictures are being painted!
Son of the Virgin, child of Heaven!
| ||
