Through the Songs
A Twelve Week Journey With Schubert's Winterreise
Week One: Beginnings
By Lisa Houston and Catherine Framm
Photos by Lisa Houston
No performance of any work, whether new or old, stands abstracted from the people bringing it to life. It is the nature of music that there is both the music and the musician. So, this blog is not solely about Winterreise, the song cycle based on twenty four poems written by Wilhelm Müller three years before he died at the age of 33 without ever hearing the songs. It is not about the music Schubert wrote just over one year before he died at the age of 31. Nor will it be about the work of great exponents past, from Hans Hotter to Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau, or explorations of the cycle in the illustrations of Lotte Lehmann, nor about theatre pieces, sign language translations, transcriptions for Hurdy Gurdy, or those by Liszt for piano. This version, and this blog detailing the process, though inherently a continuation of all of those collaborations, cannot be anything other than the work as it finds its way into being by the two people performing it, in this case, Lisa and Catherine. The work will, for the nth time, take a singer and a pianist, and anyone listening or reading who wants to come along, on a journey of musical and personal explorations that is both personal and collective.
This time, the creative process will take place partly at rehearsals in the warm, elegant former home of Klaus Billing, a German pianist who accompanied Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau in his first recording of the cycle in 1948. At the piano, will be his student, and heir, Catherine Framm, at his piano, in point of fact, which is now hers. So, it will be a journey backwards as well as forward as she will try to understand the music as it was written, and also as it was interpreted by her teacher, something she can explore and study through listening to a recording of that 1948 collaboration.
As always, the making of the music will serve to weave together the strands of life and art. The wanderings of the man-let’s not call him a hero- on the Winter’s Journey, will be understood and felt as Catherine feels and understands her own journey. For the first half of our twelve-week rehearsal process, Catherine will be traveling, eventually home to California, to be with a loved one facing serious illness. Catherine will practice and study the songs, as she bears the weight of this, along with a separation from her husband, who will remain in Germany. Maybe the songs will offer her solace, insight, comfort or challenge.
Meanwhile, Lisa will be in her new, (temporary?) home, Berlin. Her work will take place along a parallel with her now year long job search for work as an opera singer in Germany, and her exploration of the songs will receive all the frustrated energy of expression and character study that she had wished to be expending elsewhere by now. She will go deeper and deeper into the songs as her Californian heart feels the days getting shorter and shorter in this northern capital. She will wonder about what, and who, she has left behind, and what lies ahead in a darkening landscape. Maybe she will find answers in the music.
The music will affect Lisa and Catherine. Lisa and Catherine will affect the music. There will be emails, phone calls, Skype sessions and eventually, again, face to face rehearsals and discussions, as took place just days after the project was decided upon and before Catherine left on her trip. If those two brief sessions are any indication, it will be a fun, meaningful, heartwarming and tear jerking time, as we feel our way through the journey that already moved us at first touch with it’s mirroring first line for two ex-patriots: “Fremd bin ich eingezogen, Fremd zieh’ ich wieder aus.” A Stranger I came here, as a stranger I depart.”
It might be a good time to mention that while it might be too strong to say that this collaboration was avoided, it was certainly not sought out. Neither of us was looking for another project. Catherine, on top of readying herself for her trip was busy as usual translating numerous projects (books and articles) from English into German. Lisa was still overwhelmed with the task of learning all new repertoire after changing voice categories just this year from mezzo soprano to soprano. When Lisa and Catherine first met, almost one year ago through a friend of Catherine’s sister, the first thing that was an easy and mutual agreement was that they had no desire to work together. On Catherine’s part, perhaps, “accompanying” a singer held no allure whatsoever, and performing had not been a priority for some time. Lisa, completely new in town, was just so happy to find a friend, she didn’t want to take a chance on a collaboration that might not work and risk losing, roughly , a third of her social circle. Then, one day this September, as Lisa was practicing at Catherine’s (formerly Herr Billing’s) house, something she has done routinely for the past year, an idea suddenly compelled her to step out into the hall to stop Catherine’s ever fleeting footsteps. “I think we need to give a concert.” Catherine looked dismayed which Lisa took to mean that, unfortunately for her “to do” list, Catherine agreed.
Every decision that has been made thus far has come out of a similarly simple, if not easy, clarity. A trip to the library yielded a pile of Strauss, Boulanger, Brahms, Dvořák. But, no, no, no, no, all these works were wonderful, but confusing and somehow beside the point. Who was the first to say it? Does it even matter now? Somebody said, “how about Die Winterreise?” and Catherine jumped up and ran to the shelf to take down one of only a few pieces of vocal music she had in the house. Squeals appropriate for a teenage slumber party ensued along with sight reading and frequent, redundant, competitive, delighted cries of “I love that one!” and “I love that one, too!” The decision to do it soon, this winter in fact, was also easy, and the decision to do a blog about it came also unbidden.
Our greatest loves at that first exclamatory party were the first and the last songs of the cycle so, of course, we have decided to learn the songs two by two, going from the outside in, paralleling the spiritual journey the cycle represents. Suddenly the project exists, and here we are, writing to you about it. But who is the mastermind behind this endeavor? Lisa is writing this, but that is mostly because Catherine is on the road. And really, the whole thing has felt to us both more like taking marching orders than making a decision. Who is calling the shots?
I have my suspicions. I have always felt an immense, generous, musical presence at Catherine’s house. The home that Herr Billing shared with his wife, modern dancer (Ausdruckstänzerin) and dance teacher Ellys Gregor has the inspiring continuum of countless hours through decades of musical practice and the warm echoes of years of social and artistic gatherings. At our first rehearsal, Catherine shared a copy of the 1948 recording Herr Billing made with Fischer-Dieskau and she even dug out a small, squeaky rubber frog that I was shocked to learn the stately, well groomed man with a serious expression in a photo on the wall, used to squeak at her with a mad grin when she made a mistake at the keyboard. Now, I feel his presence more strongly than ever, and I wonder. Maybe this whole thing was his idea.
Let’s leave it at this: The first time Catherine and I rehearsed, we were just ready to begin when I noticed that the piano bench was squeaking and I asked Catherine if she could do something about it. I had noticed the squeak off and on before, and it hadn’t bothered me but somehow now, it was untenable. She took the bench away and brought over a straight back wooden chair with a thick leather covered seat. “This,” she said, placing the chair in front of the Steinway, “was Herr Billing’s favorite chair.”
Read Week Two
A Twelve Week Journey With Schubert's Winterreise
Week One: Beginnings
By Lisa Houston and Catherine Framm
Photos by Lisa Houston
No performance of any work, whether new or old, stands abstracted from the people bringing it to life. It is the nature of music that there is both the music and the musician. So, this blog is not solely about Winterreise, the song cycle based on twenty four poems written by Wilhelm Müller three years before he died at the age of 33 without ever hearing the songs. It is not about the music Schubert wrote just over one year before he died at the age of 31. Nor will it be about the work of great exponents past, from Hans Hotter to Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau, or explorations of the cycle in the illustrations of Lotte Lehmann, nor about theatre pieces, sign language translations, transcriptions for Hurdy Gurdy, or those by Liszt for piano. This version, and this blog detailing the process, though inherently a continuation of all of those collaborations, cannot be anything other than the work as it finds its way into being by the two people performing it, in this case, Lisa and Catherine. The work will, for the nth time, take a singer and a pianist, and anyone listening or reading who wants to come along, on a journey of musical and personal explorations that is both personal and collective.
This time, the creative process will take place partly at rehearsals in the warm, elegant former home of Klaus Billing, a German pianist who accompanied Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau in his first recording of the cycle in 1948. At the piano, will be his student, and heir, Catherine Framm, at his piano, in point of fact, which is now hers. So, it will be a journey backwards as well as forward as she will try to understand the music as it was written, and also as it was interpreted by her teacher, something she can explore and study through listening to a recording of that 1948 collaboration.
As always, the making of the music will serve to weave together the strands of life and art. The wanderings of the man-let’s not call him a hero- on the Winter’s Journey, will be understood and felt as Catherine feels and understands her own journey. For the first half of our twelve-week rehearsal process, Catherine will be traveling, eventually home to California, to be with a loved one facing serious illness. Catherine will practice and study the songs, as she bears the weight of this, along with a separation from her husband, who will remain in Germany. Maybe the songs will offer her solace, insight, comfort or challenge.
Meanwhile, Lisa will be in her new, (temporary?) home, Berlin. Her work will take place along a parallel with her now year long job search for work as an opera singer in Germany, and her exploration of the songs will receive all the frustrated energy of expression and character study that she had wished to be expending elsewhere by now. She will go deeper and deeper into the songs as her Californian heart feels the days getting shorter and shorter in this northern capital. She will wonder about what, and who, she has left behind, and what lies ahead in a darkening landscape. Maybe she will find answers in the music.
The music will affect Lisa and Catherine. Lisa and Catherine will affect the music. There will be emails, phone calls, Skype sessions and eventually, again, face to face rehearsals and discussions, as took place just days after the project was decided upon and before Catherine left on her trip. If those two brief sessions are any indication, it will be a fun, meaningful, heartwarming and tear jerking time, as we feel our way through the journey that already moved us at first touch with it’s mirroring first line for two ex-patriots: “Fremd bin ich eingezogen, Fremd zieh’ ich wieder aus.” A Stranger I came here, as a stranger I depart.”
It might be a good time to mention that while it might be too strong to say that this collaboration was avoided, it was certainly not sought out. Neither of us was looking for another project. Catherine, on top of readying herself for her trip was busy as usual translating numerous projects (books and articles) from English into German. Lisa was still overwhelmed with the task of learning all new repertoire after changing voice categories just this year from mezzo soprano to soprano. When Lisa and Catherine first met, almost one year ago through a friend of Catherine’s sister, the first thing that was an easy and mutual agreement was that they had no desire to work together. On Catherine’s part, perhaps, “accompanying” a singer held no allure whatsoever, and performing had not been a priority for some time. Lisa, completely new in town, was just so happy to find a friend, she didn’t want to take a chance on a collaboration that might not work and risk losing, roughly , a third of her social circle. Then, one day this September, as Lisa was practicing at Catherine’s (formerly Herr Billing’s) house, something she has done routinely for the past year, an idea suddenly compelled her to step out into the hall to stop Catherine’s ever fleeting footsteps. “I think we need to give a concert.” Catherine looked dismayed which Lisa took to mean that, unfortunately for her “to do” list, Catherine agreed.
Every decision that has been made thus far has come out of a similarly simple, if not easy, clarity. A trip to the library yielded a pile of Strauss, Boulanger, Brahms, Dvořák. But, no, no, no, no, all these works were wonderful, but confusing and somehow beside the point. Who was the first to say it? Does it even matter now? Somebody said, “how about Die Winterreise?” and Catherine jumped up and ran to the shelf to take down one of only a few pieces of vocal music she had in the house. Squeals appropriate for a teenage slumber party ensued along with sight reading and frequent, redundant, competitive, delighted cries of “I love that one!” and “I love that one, too!” The decision to do it soon, this winter in fact, was also easy, and the decision to do a blog about it came also unbidden.
Our greatest loves at that first exclamatory party were the first and the last songs of the cycle so, of course, we have decided to learn the songs two by two, going from the outside in, paralleling the spiritual journey the cycle represents. Suddenly the project exists, and here we are, writing to you about it. But who is the mastermind behind this endeavor? Lisa is writing this, but that is mostly because Catherine is on the road. And really, the whole thing has felt to us both more like taking marching orders than making a decision. Who is calling the shots?
I have my suspicions. I have always felt an immense, generous, musical presence at Catherine’s house. The home that Herr Billing shared with his wife, modern dancer (Ausdruckstänzerin) and dance teacher Ellys Gregor has the inspiring continuum of countless hours through decades of musical practice and the warm echoes of years of social and artistic gatherings. At our first rehearsal, Catherine shared a copy of the 1948 recording Herr Billing made with Fischer-Dieskau and she even dug out a small, squeaky rubber frog that I was shocked to learn the stately, well groomed man with a serious expression in a photo on the wall, used to squeak at her with a mad grin when she made a mistake at the keyboard. Now, I feel his presence more strongly than ever, and I wonder. Maybe this whole thing was his idea.
Let’s leave it at this: The first time Catherine and I rehearsed, we were just ready to begin when I noticed that the piano bench was squeaking and I asked Catherine if she could do something about it. I had noticed the squeak off and on before, and it hadn’t bothered me but somehow now, it was untenable. She took the bench away and brought over a straight back wooden chair with a thick leather covered seat. “This,” she said, placing the chair in front of the Steinway, “was Herr Billing’s favorite chair.”
Read Week Two