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| Schoenberg painted by Egon Schiele | Schoenberg photographed by Man Ray |
Arnold Schoenberg (1874-1951)
From Pierrot Lunaire
performed by Anja Silja with the London Philharmonia
conducted by Robert Craft
(1'45)
Mondestrunken (Moondrunk)
| Den Wein, den man mit Augen trinkt, | The wine we drink through the eyes | |
| Gießt Nachts der Mond in Wogen nieder, | The moon pours down at night in waves, | |
| Und eine Springflut überschwemmt | And a flood tide overflows | |
| Den stillen Horizont. | The silent horizon. | |
| Gelüste schauerlich und süß, | Longings beyond number, gruesome sweet frissons, | |
| Durchschwimmen ohne Zahl die Fluten! | Swim through the flood. | |
| Den Wein, den man mit Augen trinkt, | The wine we drink through the eyes | |
| Gießt Nachts der Mond in Wogen nieder. | The moon pours down at night in waves. | |
| Der Dichter, den die Andacht treibt, | The poet, slave to devotion, | |
| Berauscht sich an dem heilgen Tranke, | Drunk on the sacred liquor, | |
| Gen Himmel wendet er verzückt | Enraptured, turns his face to Heaven | |
| Das Haupt und taumelnd saugt und schlürft er | And staggering sucks and slurps | |
| Den Wein, den man mit Augen trinkt. | The wine we drink through the eyes. |
(4'57)
Eine blasse Wäscherin (An ethereal washerwoman)
| Eine blasse Wäscherin | An ethereal washerwoman | |
| Wäscht zur Nachtzeit bleiche Tücher; | Washes faded garments at nighttime. | |
| Nackte, silberweiße Arme | Naked, silver-white arms | |
| Streckt sie nieder in die Flut. | She stretches down into the flood. | |
| Durch die Lichtung schleichen Winde, | Breezes tiptoe through the clearing, | |
| Leis bewegen sie den Strom. | Lightly ruffle the stream. | |
| Eine blasse Wäscherin | An ethereal washerwoman | |
| Wäscht zur Nachtzeit bleiche Tücher. | Washes faded garments at nighttime. | |
| Und die sanfte Magd des Himmels, | And the gentle maid of heaven, | |
| Von den Zweigen zart umschmeichelt, | Softly fondled by the boughs, | |
| Breitet auf die dunklen Wiesen | Spreads her linen spun from moonbeams | |
| ihre lichtgewobnen Linnen ‐ | Across the dusky meadows ‐ | |
| Eine blasse Wäscherin. | An ethereal washerwoman. |
Valse de Chopin (A waltz by Chopin)
| Wie ein blasser Tropfen Bluts | As a bleached drop of blood | |
| Färbt die Lippen einer Kranken, | Stains a sufferer's lips, | |
| Also ruht auf diesen Tönen | So lurks within this music | |
| Ein vernichtungssüchtger Reiz. | The lure of annihilation. | |
| Wilder Lust Accorde stören | In untamed strains the chords disrupt | |
| Der Verzweiflung eisgen Traum ‐ | Despair's icy dream ‐ | |
| Wie ein blasser Tropfen Bluts | As a bleached drop of blood | |
| Färbt die Lippen einer Kranken. | Stains a sufferer's lips. | |
| Heiß und jauchzend, süß und schmachtend, | Fierce, exulting, sweet, and yearning, | |
| Melancholisch düstrer Walzer, | Melancholy dismal waltzes, | |
| Kommst mir nimmer aus den Sinnen! | You cling to my consciousness, | |
| Haftest mir an den Gedanken, | You are borne on my thoughts | |
| Wie ein blasser Tropfen Bluts! | Like a bleached drop of blood. |
Madonna (Madonna)
| Steig, o Mutter aller Schmerzen, | Ascend, O Mother of all sorrows | |
| Auf den Altar meiner Verse! | The altar of my verses! | |
| Blut aus deinen magren Brusten | The sword's fury has drawn blood | |
| Hat des Schwertes Wut vergossen. | From thy withered breasts. | |
| Deine ewig frischen Wunden | Thy eternal open wounds | |
| Gleichen Augen, rot und offen. | Are like eyes, red and open. | |
| Steig, o Mutter aller Schmerzen, | Ascend, O Mother of all sorrows | |
| Auf den Altar meiner Verse! | The altar of my verses! | |
| In den abgezehrten Händen | In thy shriveled hands | |
| Hältst du deines Sohnes Leiche. | Thou holdest thy Son's body, | |
| Ihn zu zeigen aller Menschheit ‐ | Revealed to all mankind ‐ | |
| Doch der Blick der Menschen meidet | But mankind's gaze is turned away | |
| Dich, o Mutter aller Schmerzen! | From thee, O Mother of all sorrows. |
(1'11)
Galgenlied (Gallows song)
| Die dürre Dirne | The scrawny wench | |
| Mit langem Halse | With the long neck | |
| Wird seine letzte | Will be | |
| Geliebte sein. | His last lover. | |
| In seinem Hirne | Stuck in his brain | |
| Steckt wie ein Nagel | Like a nail is | |
| Die dürre Dirne | The scrawny wench | |
| Mit langem Halse. | With the long neck. | |
| Schlank wie die Pinie, | Thin as a pine tree, | |
| Am Hals ein Zöpfchen ‐ | Pigtail down her neck ‐ | |
| Wollüstig wird sie | Lasciviously she'll | |
| Den Schelm umhalsen, | Embrace the knave, | |
| Die dürre Dirne! | The scrawny wench! |
Enthauptung (Beheading)
| Der Mond, ein blankes Türkenschwert | The moon, a shining scimitar | |
| Auf einem schwarzen Seidenkissen, | On a black silk cushion, | |
| Gespenstisch groß ‐ dräut er hinab | Preternaturally large, glowers down | |
| Durch schmerzendunkle Nacht. | Through night's pall of sorrow. | |
| Pierrot irrt ohne Rast umher | Pierrot wanders about restlessly | |
| Und starrt empor in Todesängsten | And stares aloft in deadly fear | |
| Zum Mond, dem blanken Türkenschwert | At the moon, a shining scimitar | |
| Auf einem schwarzen Seidenkissen. | On a black silk cushion. | |
| Es schlottern unter ihm die Knie, | His knees tremble, | |
| Ohnmächtig bricht er jäh zusammen. | He collapses senseless. | |
| Er wähnt: es sause strafend schon | He fancies it's already whistling down | |
| Auf seinen Sünderhals hernieder | In vengeance on his guilty neck, | |
| Der Mond, das blanke Türkenschwert. | The moon, the shining scimitar. |
O alter Duft (O ancient fragrance)
(1'35)
| O alter Duft aus Märchenzeit, | O ancient fragrance from fairytale times, | |
| Berauschest wieder meine Sinne; | Bewitch again my senses; | |
| Ein närrisch Heer von Schelmerein | A knavish swarm of silly pranks | |
| Durchschwirrt die leichte Luft. | Buzzes down the gentle breeze. | |
| Ein glückhaft Wünschen macht mich froh | A happy impulse calls me back | |
| Nach Freuden, die ich lang verachtet: | To joys I have long neglected: | |
| O alter Duft aus Märchenzeit, | O ancient fragrance from fairytale times, | |
| Berauschest wieder mich! | O ancient fragrance from fairytale times, | |
| All meinen Unmut gab ich preis; | All my ill humors have I renounced; | |
| Aus meinem sonnumrahmten Fenster | From my sun-framed window | |
| Beschau ich frei die liebe Welt | I freely gaze on the beloved world | |
| Und träum hinaus in selge Weiten... | And dream myself out to blissful vistas... | |
| O alter Duft - aus Märchenzeit! | O ancient fragrance ‐ from fairytale times! |
A Survivor from Warsaw, Op. 46 (6'23)
performed by Friedhelm Eberle
with the Israel Philharmonic Orchestra and Israeli Opera
Chorus conducted by Kurt Masur
I cannot remember everything. I must have been unconscious most of the time.
I remember only the grandiose moment when they all started to sing, as if prearranged, the old prayer they had neglected for so many years ‐ the forgotten creed!
But I have no recollection how I got underground to live in the sewers of Warsaw for so long a time. The day began as usual: Reveille when it still was dark. "Get out!" Whether you slept or whether worries kept you awake the whole night. You had been separated from your children, from your wife, from your parents. You don't know what happened to them... How could you sleep?
The trumpets again ‐ "Get out! The sergeant will be furious!" They came out; some very slowly, the old ones, the sick ones; some with nervous agility. They fear the sergeant. They hurry as much as they can. In vain! Much too much noise, much too much commotion! And not fast enough! The Feldwebel shouts:
| Achtung! Stillgestanden! Na wird's mal! Oder soll ich mit dem Jewehrkolben nachhelfen? Na gut; wenn ihrs durchaus haben wollt! | Attention! Stand still! How about it, or should I help you along with the butt of my rifle? Oh well, if you really want to have it! |
The sergeant and his subordinates hit everyone: young or old, strong or sick, quiet, guilty or innocent...
It was painful to hear them groaning and moaning.
I heard it though I had been hit very hard, so hard that I could not help falling down. We all on the ground who could not stand up were then beaten over the head...
I must have been unconscious. The next thing I heard was a soldier saying: "Die sind alle tot!" ("They are all dead!")
Whereupon the sergeant ordered to do away with us.
There I lay aside half conscious. It had become very still ‐ fear and pain. Then I heard the sergeant shouting: "Abzählen!" ("Count off!")
They start slowly and irregularly: one, two, three, four ‐ "Achtung!" The sergeant shouted again,
| Rascher! Nochmals von vorn anfange! In einer Minute will ich wissen, wieviele ich zur Gaskammer abliefere! Abzählen! | Faster! Once more, start from the beginning! In one minute I want to know how many I am going to send off to the gas chamber! Count off! |
They began again, first slowly: one, two, three, four, became faster and faster, so fast that it finally sounded like a stampede of wild horses, and all of a sudden, in the middle of it, they began singing the Shema Yisroel.
| Sh'ma Yisraeil, Adonai Eloheinu, Adonai Echad. | Hear, O Israel: the Lord our God is one Lord: |
| V'ahavta eit Adonai Elohecha b'chawl l'vav'cha uv'chawl nafsh'cha, uv'chawl m'odecha. V'hayu had'varim haeileh, asher anochi m'tsav'cha hayom, al l'vavecha. V'shinantam l'vanecha, v'dibarta bam b'shivt'cha b'veitecha, uvlecht'cha vaderech, uv'shawchb'cha uvkumecha. Ukshartam l'ot al yadecha, v'hayu l'totafot bein einecha. Uchtavtam, al m'zuzot beitecha, uvisharecha. | And thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thine heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy might. And these words, which I command thee this day, shall be in thine heart: And thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up. And thou shalt bind them for a sign upon thine hand, and they shall be as frontlets between thine eyes. And thou shalt write them upon the posts of thy house, and on thy gates. |
Anton Webern (1883-1945)
Five Pieces for Orchestra
played by the Berlin Philharmonic conducted by Pierre Boulez
Sehr ruhig und zart (Very quiet and tender) (0'44)
Lebhaft und zart bewegt (Lively and tenderly moving) (0'39)
Sehr langsam und äusserst ruhig (Very slow and extremely
quiet) (1'48)
Fliessend, äusserst zart (Flowing, extremely tender) (0'29)
Sehr fliessend (Very flowing) (0'56)
Alban Berg (1885-1935)
From Wozzeck
conducted by Pierre Boulez with the Opéra National de Paris
Act 1, Scene 3 (Marie's Room): March and Lullaby (4'53)
with Isabel Strauss (Marie), Ingeborg Lasser (Margret), and Walter Berry (Wozzeck)
Act 3, Scene 2 (Forest Path by a Pool): Invention on a Note (5'15)
with Isabel Strauss (Marie) and Walter Berry (Wozzeck)
Act 3, Scene 3 (A Tavern): Invention on an Irregular Rhythm (3'01)
with Walter Berry (Wozzeck), Ingeborg Lasser (Margret), Raymond
Steffner and Walter Poduschka (Apprentices)
Act 3, Scene 4 (Forest Path by a Pool): Invention on a Chord (4'36)
with Walter Berry (Wozzeck), Albert Weikenmeier (Captain), and
Carl Doench (Doctor)
Act 3 (Interlude): Invention on a Key (3'48)
Act 3, Scene 5 (Bright Morning, Sunshine): Invention on a Regular Rhythm (1'27)
with the children's chorus of the Opéra National de Paris