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Famous contemporaries who caused less trouble are Weber and Rossini. Later great ones are Mendelssohn, apparently indifferent to the power of Schubert’s songs, though his championship of the ‘Great’ C major Symphony is second only to his Bach revival in the annals of taste. Schumann, by no means indifferent to Lieder, and so vital in Schubert-dissemination as to receive from their publisher the dedication of the three posthumous piano sonatas, is present here in an uncharacteristic song written, aged 17, in the last year of Schubert’s life. And Liszt, who with his brilliant song-transcriptions and transformation of the ‘Wanderer’ Fantasy into a full-blown piano concerto probably spread the gospel more widely and effectively still, is represented by a setting of Rellstab’s ‘Herbst’, in likely ignorance of the lovely late setting by his hero.
Other composers of stature, not wholly swallowed by time, are Salieri, Schubert’s revered teacher, who mitigated potential dumpiness with Italianate graces. Loewe, master of the ballad, is also here, his ‘other’ Earlking, next to a further overlap: a setting for four voices and piano of the Goethe poem intertwining the soul of humankind with water in all its moods that had haunted Schubert, who tried it three times, one of which (admittedly not a song: it’s for male choir with string orchestra) is among his sublimest inspirations. And Meyerbeer, Spohr, Hummel, great in their generation, who all recognised something supreme when they heard it.
But the pleasure of these discs lies principally in the Unknowns. There’s interest and information in picking up on Reichardt and Zelter, successively preferred by Goethe for setting his lyrics. Their songs are not negligible, much though one would be gratified to find them so, knowing their part in the poet’s notorious snub to Schubert’s humble offerings (Johnson tells the familiar tales without the familiar censoriousness). Alternative settings of well-loved texts are always absorbing. There are many here. Oddest is, first, another schöne Müllerin, by one Ludwig Berger, hailing from the poems’ origin in a collaborative endeavour wherein not every text was written by Müller (seven here, which is overdoing it). Second, an ‘other’ Winterreise, by Conradin Kreutzer: we are given three to compare, but there’s no comparison! Odder yet, the other Franz Schubert, immortal only for his indignant riposte when his ‘Earlking’ got confused with the real one — ‘I beg to state the cantata was never composed by me. I shall retain the same in my possession in order to learn, if possible, who sent you that sort of trash in such an impolite manner, and also to discover the fellow who has thus misused my name.’
Best, though, is the delighted recognition of true calibre. I’ve been most struck with the songs of the impossibly named Johann Vesque von Püttlingen, a figure from Schubert’s intimate circle who in a long subsequent life diverted definitive studies of the law with five operas and over 300 songs, whose concentration upon a single poet at a time may well (Johnson speculates) have influenced the collections of Hugo Wolf. The three representing him here all have famous settings by Schubert to daunt: that Vesque’s ‘Doppelgänger’ isn’t annihilated should be tribute enough.
The later course of others in the circle, notably Lachner and Hüttenbrenner, is charted in words and songs. Most touching, the little setting of Desdemona’s willow song by Vogl, great singer and noble-hearted friend, who brought countless wonderful things to their first light. Most piquant, Simon Sechter, who helped extinguish it: the schoolmaster’s fugal exercises were faithfully worked by the sick pupil in the last fortnight of his earthly existence.
Schubert is absent from the contents of these fascinating discs, but he is almost palpable as a presence throughout this stirring and moving evocation of his endlessly pervasive influence.
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