Songs

Mendelssohn wrote a great quantity of lieder and, like Schubert before him, was fortunate to have several poetic giants as near contemporaries. The four songs heard this evening are a case in point, setting texts by Goethe, Tieck, and Heine. These are all miniatures, making no in-roads on conventions of form and seeking only to crystallize a single emotional affect. Strophic form abounds. Brief touches of chromaticism are typically functional (serving to change key) rather than decorative or rhetorically charged. These songs tend to reinforce generalizations about the German lied tradition in part because they helped to define that tradition. Anyone with an interest in such works will also find a treasure trove in Mendelssohn’s “Song without Words,” delightful character pieces for solo piano that feature many of them same textures, forms, and rhapsodic lyricism that are on display this evening.
The touches that make each song an individual gem are subtle. Consider “Morgengruss,” which begins in a radiant B major. Unison texture adds to the simplicity and unhurried feel; as Schubert had before him, Mendelssohn binds voice and accompaniment as a gesture of (momentary) unity among the two dramatic forces of the song setting. Occasional lullaby rhythms contribute a serenity that is palpable and, of course, too good to be true. The song’s B section departs from the optimism of the opening theme, moving first to F-sharp minor and to a despairing C-sharp minor. Mendelssohn works his way back to the major mode for a rounded structure, but the poetic pretence of renewed joy only reinforces our awareness of the protagonist’s deeper sense of self denial. As our hero looks up, hoping for one last glimpse of his beloved, Mendelssohn wonderfully inserts a pregnant pause at the text, “In vain! No curtain moves.” Still more brilliant is the way Heine’s protagonist invents his own happy explanation of her absence at that critical moment: “…She is still asleep, dreaming of me.” Yeah, buddy, that must be it.
Mendelssohn’s most popular song, and one most close to the spirit of his “Songs without Words” mentioned above, is “Auf Flugeln des Gesanges.” The rippling piano accompaniment may be heard as a kind of trademark of the composer, while the voice’s initial melodic leap D-B sets out the sweet lyrical tone from which Mendelssohn never departs. The song is a case study in simple strophic form (AAA’) and melodic construction; crucial details are the way Mendelssohn balances the prevailing stepwise motion with carefully placed large leaps.
The loss meditated upon in “Erster Verlust” comes through in accented dissonances (appoggiaturas) with delayed resolutions, indicating a yearning for the unattainable. Most of the action, tonally speaking, takes place in the middle section of this ABA form. The change to minor begins on the word “wound” (Wunde), and Mendelssohn builds considerable tension toward a cadence in F minor that never actually arrives. Like a harmonic resolution that never comes, so too can the hero find no salve for his “lost happiness.” Depth of emotion spills out in a final vocal flourish.
As for Tieck’s “Minnelied,” there is not a great deal more one can say that has not been said. This is not to disparage Mendelssohn’s setting, but only to reinforce the consistency and, above all, simplicity that the composer achieved in his lieder. Form is clear (AA plus piano prelude and postlude) and melodic structure achieves a gently undulating flow. The works lacks a familiar minor-mode turn—we get as close as the dominant chord of E minor—for here all is bright and good. Yes, even the German Romantics could endure moments of unmitigated happiness.

(c) Jason Stell