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Fischer-Dieskau, Dusseldorf, and Robert Schumann


Article # : 19587 

Section : THE ARTS
Issue Date : 10 / 1991  1,916 Words
Author : John C Tibbetts
John C. Tibbetts is a radio and TV broadcaster and professor of drama and film at the University of Kansas.

       Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau left his chair and paced back and forth before the piano. "You must know these texts, you must know these poems, before you can understand the music," he said. A young singer from Sweden, Karl-Magnus Frederiksson, and his accompanist, Michael Engstrom, eyed him apprehensively. They had just concluded Robert Schumann's song "Die alten bosen Lieder" (Those ancient evil ballads) from the cycle Dichterliebe. The music room at the Tonhalle, home of the Dusseldorf Symphony, was full of students and teachers from Belgium, South Africa, Sweden, Germany, and Japan. It was the third day of the legendary singer's master class.
       
        Fischer-Dieskau leaned over the keyboard and brusquely struck a B-minor chord. "This has to be grotesque," he said, his quiet voice edged with a touch of exasperation, "and sarcastic." He sang the opening line again, with brutal emphasis. "But here--"he whispered the lines, "Ich senkt auch meine Liebe und meinen Schmerz hinein--here it all changes." He glared at the singer and ordered the pianist to play the solo line again and the singer to hum along. Then he turned to the audience and drew himself up to his full height.
       
        "This poet is burying his sorrows." He growled tersely. Then a sudden smile broke out over his features. "It's a big funeral."
       
        The laughter broke the tension. The lesson continued.
       
        Fischer-Dieskau's master class for singers and accompanists was an important part of Schumann-Fest IV, June 8-17, 1991, in Dusseldorf, Germany. The Kammersanger Professor, as he is called here, had been in constant motion during the daily sessions, hovering restlessly at a distance during each performance, then darting forward, clapping his hands, and jabbing a point home with a forefinger. Sometimes, like a sculptor working in clay, he put his hands on the singer's face, tracing the airflow and shape of the mouth; then he altered the tilt of the head and the position of the neck.
       
        Later in his hotel room in downtown Dusseldorf, Fischer-Dieskau talked about these classes, speaking in careful and deliberate English. "There are those who come to Schumann-Fest to hear the music of this great master, and there are those who come to learn how to make it. Each way they have much to learn. I try to mix into the lessons always some news about Schumann and the poets. This they must know. These works must be a combination of voice and words, of music and interpretation, of sound and
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