Of all the inexplicable effects of stardom, one of them strikes me above any other – the fact that celebrity hardly ever survives alone, and instead attracts more celebrity, like a whirlpool, or rather several whirlpools, which all strive to merge in one, all-encompassing maelstrom. Despite the ominous figure of speech, these clusters of fame are often enjoyable and engaging. Indeed, it is thanks to them that we have all-star casts like that of the Ocean’s franchise, recurrent on-screen couples like Loren and Mastroianni, or even – coming to the point – Diana Damrau, Jonas Kaufmann and Helmut Deutsch’s tour, which reached Berlin after touching several major music venues in Europe. The three artists brought to the Philharmonie a programme of Lieder by Strauss and Mahler, at once a celebration of their outstanding careers and of their decade-long friendship.
The theme of the evening was no less than love, intended with a capital “L”, in all its late-Romantic viscerality. Amounting to two full hours of music, the Lieder were arranged so as to trace the trajectory of a romance, cautiously enacted by Damrau and Kaufmann on stage. Demure gestures of affection and rebuke between the two accompanied each section in a vaguely Biedermeier manner.
Easily recognisable from her crystal-clear upper register, Damrau gave the audience ample opportunities to savour it in pieces like Strauss’ airy settings of Henckel’s Ich schwebe and Gilm’s Die Zeitlose. A hint of Zerbinetta glamour emerged in her interpretation of Einerlei, thanks to crisp staccatos and effervescent phrasing. Particularly welcome within the narrative frame of the concert was the short detour to Mahler’s Des Knaben Wunderhorn and Lieder und Gesänge aus der Jugendzeit. In Ablösung im Sommer Damrau and Deutsch offered a delightful moment to those of us who are partial to Mahler’s most kitschy, uncanny streak.
On his part, Kaufmann approached the Lieder with his trademark melancholic, dreamy attitude, achieving mixed results. His dark tenor seems to have retained the characteristic husky grain, but also an occasional hollowness perceptible even in this chamber repertoire. When moving to the upper register, Kaufmann’s vocal mannerism to go into falsetto in pianissimo and then add volume to the note complemented pieces like Strauss’ Die Nacht well, but seemed unnecessary at other moments. To be sure, Kaufmann’s quality as a Lieder singer resided in his textual and harmonic sensibility, where slight modulations and passing dissonances took on incredible meaning. It is not by chance that his most fascinating renditions – Mahler's Ich atmet’ einen linden Duft and Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen, and Strauss’ Cäcilie – all require the nuance of pianissimi and a soft legato.
The veritable backbone of the recital was however Helmut Deutsch, whose career as a piano accompanist awards him a place among the most important musicians of the past decades. His light touch on the keyboard evoked the intimate atmosphere that is crucial to all chamber music, refusing overt virtuosity in favour of lyricism and solid support to the singers.
As the official programme came to an end, several rounds of applause were followed by two encores which finally got Damrau and Kaufmann to sing and goof around together: Mahler’s Trost im Unglück anda duet from (the Waltz King) Strauss’ Wiener Blut.
This recital was promoted by Konzertdirektion Hans Adler
