Peter Schreier, Andras Schiff – Mozart: Lieder (1992)

What is one to say except that this is another triumph for this superb partnership? For years Schreier has been known as a sovereign interpreter of Mozart's tenor roles in opera. Here he devotes all his vast experience, skill and inspiration in that field to the more intimate canvas of that composer's small but significant output of Lieder, and for each finds the ideal interpretation, in terms of tone, line and phrasing, inestimably helped by Schiff's piano, a partnership seemingly made in heaven.

If you look through The Classical Catalogue, you will find that most of the recordings of these songs have been made by sopranos of which my favourites are Seefried (not available at present) and Ameling in the Philips Mozart Edition. Enjoyable and rewarding as many of these may be, the added variety and different colour of a tenor, in several cases, adds another dimension to these pieces—or, at least, Schreier's does. I don't recall quite so many vocal nuances or details of word-painting in other accounts of the great Abendempfindung or of the Little Masonic Cantata that ends the programme. A few songs, such as Der Zauberer and, in its very different way, Als Luise die Briefe, are obviously meant for a female singer, but Schreier overcomes even this drawback and, in Die Alte his deliberately pinched tone suggests the voice of the cynical old crone.

Schreier and Schiff again capture to perfection the mood and character of a particular song. The lightness of approach in Komm, leibe Zither, with Schiff giving a fair imitation of a guitar, is just right. Their combined intensity of expression in the unjustly neglected Ich wurd'auf meinem Pfad, a miniature tragedy, is unforgettably moving. Then they catch precisely Mozart in his elevated, Freemason vein in Lied zur Gesellenreise. In Die betrogene Welt it is the eagerness with which the tale of the three, very different girls portrayed within is told that is so impressive, as is the projection of the Pamina-like sorrow of Das Lied der Trennung and in this song you can hear once more Schreier's ability, always encountered in his Schubert, of giving extra emphasis to a key phrase—here it is ''vergessen Gott und ich''. Both artists can move easily and naturally from the sense of grief in Das Traumbild, to the lilting joy of Sehnsucht nach dem Fruhling.

Once again for this pair, producer Christopher Raeburn has come up with a perfectly balanced, forward yet well-aired recording. What more could one ask? A more sympathetic essay on the genre than that provided by Michael Fend who seems so dismissive of the composer's efforts in this field and of his chosen poetry that one is amazed that he should have been asked to write about them. Most of his judgements on the songs are questionable in the extreme. Don't let that prevent you hearing another compelling addition to the Schreier/Schiff discography. -- Alan Blyth