The Folly O F Desire —

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THE FOLLY O F DESIRE

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BRAD MEHLDAU

& IAN BOSTRIDGE

OCTOBER 15, 2019

SFJAZZ CENTER BRAD MEHLDAU

PIANO

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One of the most lyrical and intimate voices of contemporary jazz piano, Brad Mehldau has forged a unique path, which embodies the essence of jazz exploration, classical romanticism and pop allure. From critical acclaim as a bandleader to major international exposure in collaborations with Pat Metheny, Renee Fleming, and Joshua Redman, Mehldau continues to garner numerous awards and admiration from both jazz purists and music enthusiasts alike. His forays into melding musical idioms, in both trio (with Larry Grenadier on bass and Jeff Ballard on drums) and solo settings, has seen brilliant re-workings of songs by contemporary songwriters like The Beatles, Cole Porter, Radiohead, Paul Simon, Gershwin, and Nick Drake; alongside the ever evolving breath of his own significant catalogue of original compositions. With his self-proclaimed affection for popular music and classical training, “Mehldau is the most influential jazz pianist of the last 20 years” (The New York Times).

IAN BOSTRIDGE

TENOR

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Ian Bostridge’s international recital career takes him to the foremost concert halls of Europe, South East Asia, and North America, with regu- lar appearances at the Salzburg, Edinburgh, Munich, Vienna, Schwarzenberg, and Aldeburgh festivals. He has had residencies at the Wiener Konzerthaus, Carnegie Hall New York, Concert- gebouw Amsterdam, Luxembourg Philharmo- nie, Barbican Centre, Wigmore Hall, and with the Seoul Philharmonic, the first of its kind. In opera, he has performed Tamino (Mozart Die Zauberflöte), Jupiter (Handel Semele) and Aschenbach (Britten Death in Venice) at English National Opera, Quint (Britten The Turn of the Screw), Don Ottavio (Mozart Don Giovanni) and Caliban (Adès The Tempest) for the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, title role Jephtha for Opera de Paris, Don Ottavio at the Wiener Staatsoper, Tom Rakewell (Stravinsky The Rake’s Progress) at the Bayerische Staatsoper, Munich and Quint at Teatro alla Scala, Milan.

Highlights of the 2019–20 season include a U.S.recital tour with jazz pianist Brad Mehldau, including Mehldau’s The Folly of Desire, written for Ian, a world premiere of a new commission by Olli Mustonen at the Amsterdam Concertgebouw and Wigmore Hall, Debussy’s ‘Livre de Baudelaire’ orchestrated and conducted by John Adams with the Orchestre Philharmonique de Radio France, Aschenbach / Death in Venice at the Deutsche Oper Berlin, and Mad Woman / Curlew River on tour with the Britten Sinfonia.

His many recordings have won all the major international record prizes and been nominated for fifteen Grammys. He was awarded a CBE in the 2004 New Year’s Honours. In 2016, he was awarded the The Pol Roger Duff Cooper Prize for non-fic- tion writing for his latest book, Schubert’s Winter Journey: Anatomy of an Obsession.

3 THE FOLLY DICHTERLILEBE

OF DESIRE ROBERT SCHUMANN BRAD MEHLDAU — This work was co-commissioned by Elbphilhar- monie Hamburg, Wigmore Hall, Stanford Live at Stanford University, and Carnegie Hall. Dein Angesicht (op. 127, 2)

— Lehn’ deine Wang’ (op. 142, 2)

The Sick Rose Es leuchtet meine Liebe (op. 127, 3) William Blake Mein Wagen rollet langsam (op. 142, 4) Leda and the Swan William Butler Yeats Im wunderschönen Monat Mai

Sonnet 147 Aus meinen Tränen sprießen William Shakespeare

Die Rose, die Lilie, die Taube, die Sonne Sonnet 75 William Shakespeare Wenn ich in deine Augen seh’ Über die Verführung von Engeln Bertold Brecht Ich will meine Seele tauchen

Ganymed Im Rhein, im heiligen Strome Johann Wolfgang von Goethe Ich grolle nicht Ganymede W.H. Auden Und wüssten’s die Blumen

the boys i mean are not refined Das ist ein Flöten und Geigen e.e. cummings Hör’ ich das Liedchen klingen Excerpt from Sailing to Byzantium William Butler Yeats Ein Jüngling liebt ein Mädchen

Night II, from “The Four Zoas” (The Wail of Enion) Am leuchtenden Sommermorgen William Blake Ich hab’ im Traum geweinet Lullaby W.H. Auden Allnächtlich im Traume

Aus alten Märchen winkt es

INTERMISSION Die alten bösen Lieder

4 5 SONNET 75 THE FOLLY OF DESIRE William Shakespeare So are you to my thoughts as food to life, Or as sweet-season’d showers are to the ground; And for the peace of you I hold such strife, As ‘twixt a miser and his wealth is found.

Now proud as an enjoyer and anon THE SICK ROSE Doubting the filching age will steal his treasure, William Blake Now counting best to be with you alone, Then better’d that the world may see my pleasure, O Rose thou art sick. The invisible worm, Sometime all full with feasting on your sight, That flies in the night And by and by clean starved for a look, In the howling storm: Possessing or pursuing no delight Save what is had or must from you be took. Has found out thy bed Of crimson joy: Thus do I pine and surfeit day by day, And his dark secret love Or gluttoning on all, or all away. Does thy life destroy.

LEDA AND THE SWAN ÜBER DIE VERFÜHRUNG VON ENGELN William Butler Yeats Bertold Brecht A sudden blow: the great wings beating still Engel verführt man gar nicht oder schnell. Above the staggering girl, her thighs caressed Verzieh ihn einfach in den Hauseingang By the dark webs, her nape caught in his bill, Steck ihm die Zunge in den Mund und lang He holds her helpless breast upon his breast. Ihm untern Rock, bis er sich naß macht, stell How can those terrified vague fingers push Ihm das Gesicht zur Wand, heb ihm den Rock The feathered glory from her loosening thighs? Und fick ihn. Stöhnt er irgendwie beklommen And how can body, laid in that white rush, Dann halt ihn fest und laß ihn zweimal kommen But feel the strange heart beating where it lies? Sonst hat er dir am Ende einen Schock. Ermahn ihn, dass er gut den Hintern schwenkt A shudder in the loins engenders there Heiß ihn dir ruhig an die Hoden fassen The broken wall, the burning roof and tower Sag ihm, er darf sich furchtlos fallen lassen And Agamemnon dead. Dieweil er zwischen Erd und Himmel hängt – Doch schau ihm nicht beim Ficken ins Gesicht Being so caught up, Und seine Flügel, Mensch, zerdrück sie nicht. So mastered by the brute blood of the air, Did she put on his knowledge with his power Before the indifferent beak could let her drop?

GANYMED SONNET 147 Johann Wolfgang von Goethe William Shakespeare Wie im Morgenglanze Durst meines Busens, My love is as a fever, longing still Du rings mich anglühst Lieblicher Morgenwind! For that which longer nurseth the disease, Frühling, Geliebter! Ruft drein die Nacthigall Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, Mit tausendfacher Liebeswonne Liebend nach mir aus dem Nebeltal. The uncertain sickly appetite to please. Sich an mein Herz drängt Ich komm’, ich komme! Deiner ewigen Wärme Wohin? Ach, wohin? My reason, the physician to my love, Heilig Gefühl, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept Unendliche Schöne! Hinauf! Hinauf strebt’s. Hath left me, and I desperate now approve, Es schweben die Wolken Desire is death, which physic did except. Daß ich dich fassen möchte’ Abwärts, die Wolken In diesen Arm! Neigen sich der sehnenden Liebe. Past cure I am, now reason is past care, Mir! Mir! And frantic-mad with evermore unrest, Ach, an deinem Busen In eurem Schosse My thoughts and my discourse as madmen’s are, Lieg’ ich, schmachte, Aufwärts! At random from the truth vainly express’d. Und deine Blumen, dein Gras Umfangend umfangen! Drängen sich an mein Herz. Aufwärts an deinen Busen, For I have sworn thee fair and thought thee bright, Du kühlst den brennenden Alliebender Vater! Who art as black as hell, as dark as night. 6 7 GANYMEDE W.H. Auden He looked in all His wisdom from the throne NIGHT II, FROM “THE FOUR ZOAS” Down on that humble boy who kept the sheep, (THE WAIL OF ENION) And sent a dove; the dove returned alone: William Blake Youth liked the music, but soon fell asleep. I am made to sow the thistle for wheat; the nettle for a nourishing dainty But He had planned such future for the youth: I have planted a false oath in the earth, it has brought forth a Poison Tree Surely, His duty now was to compel. I have chosen the serpent for a counsellor and the dog For later he would come to love the truth, For a schoolmaster to my children And own his gratitude. His eagle fell. I have blotted out from light and living the dove and nightingale And I have caused the earthworm to beg from door to door It did not work. His conversation bored I have taught the thief a secret path into the house of the just The boy who yawned and whistled and made faces, I have taught pale Artifice to spread his nets upon the morning And wriggled free from fatherly embraces; My heavens are brass, my earth is iron, my moon a clod of clay But with the eagle he was always willing My sun a pestilence burning at noon, and a vapour of death in night. To go where it suggested, and adored What is the price of Experience? Do men buy it for a song And learnt from it so many ways of killing. Or Wisdom for a dance in the street? No – it is bought with the price Of all that a man hath – his house, his wife, his children. Wisdom is sold in the desolate market where none come to buy And in the wither’d field where the farmer ploughs for bread in vain.

THE BOYS I MEAN ARE NOT REFINED e.e. cummings the boys i mean are not refined they go with girls who buck and bite LULLABY they do not give a fuck for luck W.H. Auden they hump them thirteen times a night Lay your sleeping head, my love, Certainty, fidelity one hangs a hat upon her tit Human on my faithless arm: On the stroke of midnight pass one carves a cross on her behind Time and fevers burn away Like vibrations of a bell they do not give a shit for wit Individual beauty from And fashionable madmen raise the boys i mean are not refined Thoughtful children, and the grave Their pedantic boring cry: Proves the child ephemeral: Every farthing of the cost. they come with girls who bite and buck But in my arms till break of day All the dreaded cards foretell. who cannot read and cannot write Let the living creature lie, Shall be paid, but from this night who laugh like they would fall apart Mortal, guilty, but to me Not a whisper, not a thought. and masturbate with dynamite The entirely beautiful. Not a kiss nor look be lost.

the boys i mean are not refined Soul and body have no bounds: Beauty, midnight, vision dies: they cannot chat of that and this To lovers as they lie upon Let the winds of dawn that blow they do not give a fart for art Her tolerant enchanted slope Softly round your dreaming head they kill like you would take a piss In their ordinary swoon, Such a day of welcome show Grave the vision Venus sends Eye and knocking heart may bless, they speak whatever’s on their mind Of supernatural sympathy, Find our mortal world enough; they do whatever’s in their pants Universal love and hope Noons of dryness find you fed the boys i mean are not refined While an abstract insight wakes By the involuntary powers, they shake the mountains when they dance Among the glaciers and the rocks Nights of insult let you pass The hermit’s carnal ecstasy. Watched by every human love.

EXCERPT FROM SAILING TO BYZANTIUM William Butler Yeats CREDITS III “Lullaby” and “Ganymede” by W.H. Auden. Used by permission of Curtis Brown, Ltd. O sages standing in God’s holy fire Copyright © 1939, 1940. All Rights reserved. As in the gold mosaic of a wall, “the boys i mean are not refined”. Copyright © 1935,1963, 1991 by the Trustees for the E.E. Cummings Come from the holy fire, perne in a gyre, Trust. Copyright © 1978 by George James Firmgae, from COMPLETE POEMS: 1904-1962 by E.E. And be the singing masters of my soul. Cummings, edited by George J. Firmage. Used by permission of Liveright Publishing Corporation. Consume my heart away; sick with desire It knows not what it is; and gather me Über die Verführung von Englen von Bertold Brecht. Bertold Brecht, Werke. Große kommentierte Into the artifice of eternity. Berliner und Frankfurter Ausgabe, Berlin und Weimar / Frankfurt am Main © 1988, 1993. Benutzte mit Genehmigung von Suhrkamp Verlag. 8 9 DICHTERLILEBE

DEIN ANGESICHT YOUR FACE Dein Angesicht so lieb und schön, Your face so lovely and fair Das hab ich jüngst im Traum gesehn, appeared to me in a recent dream, Es ist so mild und engelgleich, so mild, it looks, and angel-like, Und doch so bleich, so schmerzensreich. and yet so pale, so full of pain. Und nur die Lippen, die sind rot; And your lips alone are red; MEIN WAGEN MY CARRIAGE Bald aber küsst sie bleich der Tod. but death shall soon kiss them pale. ROLLET LANGSAM ROLLS SLOWLY Erlöschen wird das Himmelslicht, The heavenly light will be extinguished Das aus den frommen Augen bricht. that gleams from your innocent eyes. Mein Wagen rollet langsam My carriage rolls slowly Durch lustiges Waldesgrün, through the cheerful green woodlands, Durch blumige Täler, die zaubrisch through flowery valleys Im Sonnenglanze blühn. magically blooming in sun. Ich sitze und sinne und träume, I sit and muse and dream, Und denk an die Liebste mein; and think of my dear love; Da grüßen drei Schattengestalten three shadowy forms nod at me REST YOUR CHEEK Kopfnickend zum Wagen herein. through the carriage window. LEHN’ DEINE WANG’ AGAINST MY CHEEK Sie hüpfen und schneiden Gesichter, They hop and pull faces, Lehn’ deine Wang’ an meine Wang’, Rest you cheek against my cheek, So spöttisch und doch so scheu, so mocking yet so shy, Dann fließen die Tränen zusammen; together our tears shall flow; Und quirlen wie Nebel zusammen, and whirl together like mist Und an mein Herz drück fest dein Herz, and against my heart press firm your heart, Und kichern und huschen vorbei. and flit chuckling by. Dann schlagen zusammen die Flammen! together the flames shall leap! Und wenn in die große Flamme fließt And when into that great flame Der Strom von unsern Tränen, our river of tears shall flow, Und wenn dich mein Arm gewaltig umschließt and when I clasp you wildly in my arms – Sterb ich vor Liebessehnen! I shall die of love’s desire! IM WUNDERSCHÖNEN IN THE WONDROUS MONAT MAI MONTH OF MAY Im wunderschönen Monat Mai, In the wondrous month of May, Als alle Knospen sprangen, when all the buds were bursting into bloom, Da ist in meinem Herzen then it was that in my heart ES LEUCHTET MEINE LIEBE THE GLEAM OF MY LOVE Die Liebe aufgegangen. love began to blossom. Es leuchtet meine Liebe, The gleam of my love Im wunderschönen Monat Mai, In the wonrous month of May, In ihrer dunkeln Pracht, in its dark splendor Als alle Vögel sangen, when all the birds were singing, Wie’n Märchen traurig und trübe, is like a tale, sad and gloomy, Da hab’ ich ihr gestanden then it was I confessed to her Erzählt in der Sommernacht. told on a summer night. Mein Sehnen und Verlangen. my longing and desire. »Im Zaubergarten wallen In the magic garden wander Zwei Buhlen, stumm und allein; two lovers, silent and alone; Es singen die Nachtigallen, the nightingales are singing, Es flimmert der Mondenschein. the moon is shimmering. Die Jungfrau steht still wie ein Bildnis, The maiden stands as silent as a picture, Der Ritter vor ihr kniet. the knight kneels down before her. AUS MEINEN TRÄNEN FROM MY TEARS Da kommt der Riese der Wildnis, Suddenly the wild giant appears, Die bange Jungfrau flieht. the frightened maiden flees. SPRIESSEN WILL SPRING Der Ritter sinkt blutend zur Erde, The knight sinks bleeding to the ground, Aus meinen Tränen sprießen From my tears will spring Es stolpert der Riese nach Haus.« the giant stumbles home; Viel blühende Blumen hervor, many blossoming flowers, Wenn ich begraben werde, and when I’m dead and buried; Und meine Seufzer werden and my sighs will become Dann ist das Märchen aus. this story shall be done. Ein Nachtigallenchor. a choir of nightingales. Und wenn du mich lieb hast, Kindchen, And if you love me, child, Schenk’ ich dir die Blumen all’, I’ll give you all the flowers, Und vor deinem Fenster soll klingen and at your window shall sound Das Lied der Nachtigall. the nightingale’s song.

10 11 ICH GROLLE NICHT I BEAR NO GRUDGE DIE ROSE, DIE LILIE, ROSE , LILY, Ich grolle nicht, I bear no grudge, DIE TAUBE, DIE SONNE DOVE Und wenn das Herz auch bricht, though my heart is breaking, Ewig verlor’nes Lieb! Ich grolle nicht. O love forever lost! I bear no grudge. Die Rose, die Lilie, die Taube, die Sonne, Rose, lily, dove, sun, Wie du auch strahlst in Diamantenpracht, However you gleam in diamond splendor, Die liebt’ ich einst alle in Liebeswonne. I loved them all once in the bliss of love. Es fällt kein Strahl in deines Herzens Nacht. no ray falls in the night of your heart. Ich lieb’ sie nicht mehr, ich liebe alleine I love them no more, I only love Das weiß ich längst. Ich sah dich ja im Traume, I’ve known that long. For I saw you in my dreams, Die Kleine, die Feine, die Reine, die Eine; she who is small, fine, pure, rare; Und sah die Nacht in deines Herzens Raume, and saw the night within your heart, Sie selber, aller Liebe Wonne, she, most blissful of all loves, Und sah die Schlang’, die dir am Herzen frisst, and saw the serpent gnawing your heart – Ist Rose und Lilie und Taube und Sonne. is rose and lily and dove and sun. Ich sah, mein Lieb, wie sehr du elend bist. I saw, my love, how pitiful you are.

WENN ICH IN WHEN I LOOK INTO UND WÜSSTEN’S IF THE LITTLE DEINE AUGEN SEH’ YOUR EYES DIE BLUMEN FLOWERS KNEW Wenn ich in deine Augen seh’, When I look into your eyes, Und wüssten’s die Blumen, die kleinen, If the little flowers knew So schwindet all’ mein Leid und Weh; all my pain and sorrow vanish; Wie tief verwundet mein Herz, how deeply my heart is hurt, Doch wenn ich küsse deinen Mund, but when I kiss your lips. Sie würden mit mir weinen, they would weep with me So werd’ ich ganz und gar gesund. then I am wholly healed. Zu heilen meinen Schmerz. to heal my pain. Wenn ich mich lehn’ an deine Brust, When I lay my head against your breast, Und wüssten’s die Nachtigallen, If the nightingales knew Kommt’s über mich wie Himmelslust; heavenly bliss steals over me; Wie ich so traurig und krank, how sad I am and sick, Doch wenn du sprichst: ich liebe dich! but when you say: I love you! Sie ließen fröhlich erschallen they would joyfully make the air resound So muss ich weinen bitterlich. I must weep bitter tears. Erquickenden Gesang. with refreshing song. Und wüssten sie mein Wehe, And if they knew of my grief, Die goldenen Sternelein, those little golden stars, Die kämen aus ihrer Höhe, they would come down from the sky Und sprächen Trost mir ein. and console me with their words. Sie alle können’s nicht wissen, But none of them can know, Nur eine kennt meinen Schmerz; my pain is known to one alone; ICH WILL MEINE LET ME BATHE Sie hat ja selbst zerrissen, for she it was who broke SEELE TAUCHEN MY SOUL Zerrissen mir das Herz. broke my heart in two. Ich will meine Seele tauchen Let me bathe my soul In den Kelch der Lilie hinein; in the lily’s chalice; Die Lilie soll klingend hauchen the lily shall resound Ein Lied von der Liebsten mein. with a song of my love. Das Lied soll schauern und beben The songs shall tremble and quiver DAS IST EIN FLÖTEN WHAT A FLUTING Wie der Kuss von ihrem Mund, like the kiss her lips UND GEIGEN AND FIDDLING Den sie mir einst gegeben once gave me In wunderbar süßer Stund’. in a sweet and wondrous hour. Das ist ein Flöten und Geigen, What a fluting and fiddling, Trompeten schmettern darein; what a blaring of trumpets; Da tanzt wohl den Hochzeitsreigen that must be my dearest love Die Herzallerliebste mein. dancing at her wedding feast. Das ist ein Klingen und Dröhnen, What a booming and ringing, Ein Pauken und ein Schalmei’n; what a drumming and piping; Dazwischen schluchzen und stöhnen with lovely little angels IM RHEIN, IN THE RHINE, Die lieblichen Engelein. sobbing and groaning between. IM HEILIGEN STROME THE HOLY RIVER Im Rhein, im heiligen Strome, In the Rhine, the holy river, Da spiegelt sich in den Well’n there is reflected in the waves, Mit seinem großen Dome with its great cathedral, Das große, heil’ge Köln. great and holy Cologne. HÖR’ ICH DAS WHEN I HEAR THE Im Dom da steht ein Bildnis, In the cathedral hangs a picture, Auf gold’nem Leder gemalt; painted on gilded leather; LIEDCHEN KLINGEN LITTLE SONG In meines Lebens Wildnis into my life’s wilderness Hör’ ich das Liedchen klingen, When I hear the little song Hat’s freundlich hineingestrahlt. it has cast its friendly rays. Das einst die Liebste sang, my beloved once sang, Es schweben Blumen und Eng’lein Flowers and cherubs hover So will mir die Brust zerspringen my heart almost bursts Um unsre liebe Frau; around Our beloved Lady; Von wildem Schmerzendrang. with the wild rush of pain. Die Augen, die Lippen, die Wänglein, her eyes, her lips, her little cheeks Es treibt mich ein dunkles Sehnen A dark longing drives me Die gleichen der Liebsten genau. are the image of my love’s. Hinauf zur Waldeshöh’, up to the wooded heights, Dort löst sich auf in Tränen where my overwhelming grief Mein übergroßes Weh’. dissolves into tears.

12 13 EIN JÜNGLING A BOY LIEBT EIN MÄDCHEN LOVES A GIRL AUS ALTEN A WHITE Ein Jüngling liebt ein Mädchen, A boy loves a girl MÄRCHE WINKT ES HAND BECKONS Die hat einen andern erwählt; who chooses another; Aus alten Märchen winkt es A white hand beckons Der and’re liebt eine and’re, he in turn loves another Hervor mit weißer Hand, from fairy tales of old, Und hat sich mit dieser vermählt. and marries her. Da singt es und da klingt es where there are sounds and songs Das Mädchen nimmt aus Ärger The girl, out of pique, Von einem Zauberland; of a magic land; Den ersten besten Mann, takes the very first man Wo bunte Blumen blühen Where brightly colored flowers Der ihr in den Weg gelaufen; to come her way; Im gold’nen Abendlicht, bloom in golden twilight, Der Jüngling ist übel dran. the boy is badly hurt. Und lieblich duftend glühen, and glow sweet and fragrant Es ist eine alte Geschichte, It’s an old story, Mit bräutlichem Gesicht; with a bride-like face; Doch bleibt sie immer neu; yet remains ever new; Und grüne Bäume singen And green trees Und wem sie just passieret, and he to whom it happens, Uralte Melodei’n, sing primeval melodies, Dem bricht das Herz entzwei. it breaks his heart in half. Die Lüfte heimlich klingen, mysterious breezes murmur, Und Vögel schmettern drein; and birds warble; Und Nebelbilder steigen And misty shapes rise up Wohl aus der Erd’ hervor, from the very ground, Und tanzen luft’gen Reigen and dance airy dances AM LEUCHTENDEN ONE BRIGHT Im wunderlichen Chor; in a strange throng; Und blaue Funken brennen And blue sparks blaze SOMMERMORGEN SUMMER MORNING An jedem Blatt und Reis, on every leaf and twig, Am leuchtenden Sommermorgen One bright summer morning Und rote Lichter rennen and red fires race Geh’ ich im Garten herum. I walk round the garden. Im irren, wirren Kreis; madly round and round; Es flüstern und sprechen die Blumen, The flowers whisper and talk, Und laute Quellen brechen And loud springs gush Ich aber wandle stumm. but I move silently. Aus wildem Marmorstein. from wild marble cliffs. Es flüstern und sprechen die Blumen The flowers whisper and talk, Und seltsam in den Bächen And strangely in the streams Und schaun mitleidig mich an: and look at me in pity: Strahlt fort der Widerschein. the reflection shines on. Sei uns’rer Schwester nicht böse, be not angry with our sister, Ach, könnt’ ich dorthin kommen, Ah, could I but reach that land, Du trauriger blasser Mann. you sad, pale man. Und dort mein Herz erfreu’n, and there make glad my heart, Und aller Qual entnommen, and be relieved of all pain, Und frei und selig sein! and be blissful and free! Ach! jenes Land der Wonne, Ah, that land of delight, Das seh’ ich oft im Traum, I see it often in my dreams, Doch kommt die Morgensonne, but with the morning sun Zerfließt’s wie eitel Schaum. it melts like mere foam. ICH HAB’ IM TRAUM GEWEINET I WEPT IN MY DREAM Ich hab’ im Traum geweinet, I wept in my dream, Mir träumte, du lägest im Grab. I dreamt you lay in your grave. Ich wachte auf, und die Träne I woke, and tears Floss noch von der Wange herab. still flowed down my cheeks. Ich hab’ im Traum geweinet, I wept in my dream, DIE ALTEN, BÖSEN LIEDER THE BAD OLD SONGS Mir träumt’, du verließest mich. I dreamt you were leaving me. Ich wachte auf, und ich weinte I woke, and wept on Die alten, bösen Lieder, The bad old songs, Noch lange bitterlich. long and bitterly. Die Träume bös’ und arg, the bad and bitter dreams, Ich hab’ im Traum geweinet, I wept in my dream, Die lasst uns jetzt begraben, let us now bury them, Mir träumte, du wär’st mir noch gut I dreamt you loved me still. Holt einen großen Sarg. fetch me a large coffin. Ich wachte auf, und noch immer I woke, and still Hinein leg’ ich gar manches, I have mutch to put in it, Strömt meine Tränenflut. my tears stream. Doch sag’ ich noch nicht, was; though what I won’t yet say; Der Sarg muss sein noch größer, the coffin must be even larger Wie’s Heidelberger Fass. than the Vat at Heidelberg. Und holt eine Totenbahre And fetch a bier Und Bretter fest und dick; made of firm thick timber: Auch muss sie sein noch länger, and it must be even longer Als wie zu Mainz die Brück’. than the bridge at Mainz ALLNÄCHTLICH IM TRAUME NIGHTLY IN MY DREAMS Und holt mir auch zwölf Riesen, And fetch for me twelve giants, Allnächtlich im Traume seh’ ich dich Nightly in my dreams I see you, Die müssen noch stärker sein they must be even stronger Und sehe dich freundlich grüßen, and see your friendly greeting, Als wie der starke Christoph than Saint Christopher the Strong Und laut aufweinend stürz’ ich mich and weeping loud, I hurl myself Im Dom zu Köln am Rhein. in Cologne cathedral on the Rhine. Zu deinen süßen Füßen. down at your sweet feet. Die sollen den Sarg forttragen, They shall bear the coffin away, Du siehest mich an wehmütiglich Wistfully you look at me, Und senken ins Meer hinab; and sink it deep into the sea; Und schüttelst das blonde Köpfchen; shaking your fair little head; Denn solchem großen Sarge for such a large coffin Aus deinen Augen schleichen sich tiny little pearl-like tears Gebührt ein großes Grab. deserves a large grave. Die Perlentränentröpfchen. trickle from your eyes. Wisst ihr, warum der Sarg wohl Do you know why the coffin Du sagst mir heimlich ein leises Wort You whisper me a soft word So groß und schwer mag sein? must be so large and heavy? Und gibst mir den Strauß von Zypressen. and hand me a wreath of cypress. Ich senkt’ auch meine Liebe I’d like to bury there my love Ich wache auf, und der Strauß ist fort, I wake up and the wreath is gone, Und meinen Schmerz hinein. and my sorrow too. Und’s Wort hab’ ich vergessen. and I cannot remember the word. 14 15 love” – he effectively returned the authority to the first-person protagonist TACIT CONSENT of the poems. Authority over himself is the struggle of this passionate figure, who is always in danger of drowning in his rapture for a young woman, losing — his common sense. Schumann conveyed masterfully that unhinged mental state in his musical expression: at turns violent, euphoric, dreamy and unreal. Lovers give themselves in a moment of trust – or they dare to take without asking. The fact that this giving and taking is without an established contract Heine’s Romantic irony, as it came to be known, involved an act of self-cen- – there is risk – is what gives desire its wings, and also makes it potentially sure from the poet, in which he would assess the folly of his own ardent feel- transgressive. Consent exists ideally, but it is unspoken. This tacit quality ing within the same poem. It might be a painfully jarring corrective, yet is less of consent makes it downright holy for poets, artists and musicians – quiet, destructive than the folly of losing his wits completely, obsessively pining untouched by all the prosaic discourse. Desire – unrequited, or consecrated in for someone he will never possess. Heine’s caustic reawakening to reality is ecstasy – is a strong trope in music, wrapped into the game of tonality itself: particularly effective in Schumann’s musical dramaturgy when it is deferred tension and resolution, tension again, and resolution. In its unspoken abstrac- until the end of the poem, as in IV, “Wenn ich in deine Augen seh’” and tion, music can trace lucidly an intimate exchange. VII, “Ich grolle nicht”. In the initial idea for this song cycle, the order of the songs was to reflect a In those two settings, Schumann’s spiritual climb from pure lust all the way to lust-free love. That ascension, gambit is not to change the musical though, would import a moral message into the music: that carnal desire itself fabric at all – making the abrupt mood was base and ignoble, and love free of desire was the highest achievement. It change of the text even more tragically was too simple. Music should provoke more questions, not answer them with apparent by understating it. It’s a real prescriptive finality. EVEN AS HE German Romantic move – wearing the emotion on your sleeve and holding it The next thought was to address lust only and thus confront it directly and SEES THE in at the same time, verklemmt. That unapologetically. Too unapologetically, though – might that serve to celebrate kind of narrative dissonance also fore- what one would condemn? Finally the goal was to neither condemn nor sanction, FOLLY OF shadowed modern cinematic inten- yet still probe the subject without dodging “should” and “shouldn’t” questions. tional incongruity – like when Scorsese sets a violent scene to cheerful A discourse about what may and may not take place, and an attempt to find HIS DESIRE, doo-wop music. a provisional consensus, is valuable. It might focus on just how one defines consent. There should remain, though, a private space where one can just love HE CHOOSES The perpetrators in the #MeToo someone and take without asking. accounts and the Catholic church sanc- RUIN tioned their actions through willful This privacy has been a cherished freedom of liberal societies, but is under fantasy, essentially lying to themselves, question now. When sex enters the public forum, it becomes political, and we not unlike the 19th Century personage speak of a citizen’s right to privacy. Closely related is freedom of speech. Sexual in Dichterliebe. A measure of Heine-like expression, like speech, often takes place in a relatively anarchic locus in which self-critical distance might have helped there are no fixed rules and no policing presence nearby. If someone is asocial – them avoid a destructive path. Roman- forcing an unwelcome sexual advance, or inciting violence through speech – the tic irony introduced a potential freedom governing body is compelled to paternalistically step in, halting the expression. for writers. They could momentarily escape the imposed frame of their narra- Some children are misbehaving, so the whole classroom will suffer. tive. Likewise in real life, one might escape the fictive story he repeatedly tells This point in history is unique because leaders are doing the opposite: they are himself about the object of his desire. And who knows – if we censure ourselves goading the anti-social expression onward. A vote, as an expression of speech, now and then in the polis, we might retain our right to privacy and free speech. has become a raised middle-finger, a malevolent gesture. The free-roaming The new songs here for male voice and piano are an inquiry into the limits of playful kind of anarchy is threatened from the inside. post-#MeToo Romantic irony. The variables are still the same: The subject is in danger of valorizing his desire precisely when he should sublimate it. He does not see clearly, and commits folly. Yet, some of this folly he welcomes – he does not want to see clearly. At what cost though? ROMANTIC IRONY A few words about the individual poems: The suitor in Shakespeare’s two sonnets is perpetually self-aware, a trait Harold Bloom identified in the Bard’s AS SELF-CENSURE most famous characters. In “Sonnet 147,” the subject reasons about how he has lost his reason: “My reason, the physician to my love,/Angry that his — prescriptions are not kept/Hath left me, and I desperate now approve.” Even as he sees the folly of his desire, he chooses ruin. Here, self-ironizing doesn’t Heinrich Heine’s title for the collection of poems that Schumann drew from help, and leads to inertia: he perpetually diagnoses the problem yet never was Buch der Leider – Book of Songs – proclaiming the quality of song already takes the bitter medicine. in the poems. When Schumann titled his song cycle Dichterliebe – the “poet’s

16 17 If tacit, genuine consent is the holy grail, then its most extreme, violent opposite is rape. Yeats’ mythological “Leda and the Swan” is unsettling because it locates a dark Sublime in Zeus’ brute overpowering of the girl, who, being so close the god, might have “put on his knowledge with his power.” In Brecht’s “Über die Verführung von Engeln” the dark humor from this master of satire has a purpose: Brecht describes the duplicity and self-sanctioning of the rapist-protagonist, who mockingly instructs the reader how to say or do whatever necessary to get what he wants. Here, the roles are reversed – whereas Zeus was the perpetrator, the angel here is the one perpetrated, a sublime figure whom one may not gaze at directly, even as he takes him by force – “Doch schau ihm nicht beim Ficken ins Gesicht.” Goethe’s Ganymed craves the Father: “Aufwärts an deinen Busen, Allieb- ender Vater.” Zeus is less perpetrator and more pantheistic ideal – the divine expressed in eternal nature, into which Ganymed is received, ecstatically. This spiritualized Zeus is perhaps less Greek, but otherwise it was always diffi- cult to believe that the youth would be so enchanted as he is lifted away – wouldn’t he be terrified, like Leda? Ganymed’s Liebeswonne (bliss of love) is intertwined his heilig Gefühl (holy feeling). They are both unendliche Schöne – eternally beautiful. The poem suggests that spiritual striving and earthly desire both seek the same thing: to cool our “burning thirst” – “Du kühlst den brennenden Durst meines Busens.” What is the nature of that thirst – could lust then be a kind of holy impulse? Not if we understand the Holy to be benevolent. Desire in itself is blind by nature, never giving and always seeking to possess. We would hope that the Godhead would give us eyes to see our own folly. Yet such a sharp division between holy and carnal can itself become spiritual blindness. It becomes another strategy of denial and hidden complicity, of believing what you want to believe. What else were all those priests doing? The unsettling suggestion in Auden’s “Ganymede” is that perpetration begets violence on the one perpetrated – which in turn might continue a cycle. For William Blake, lust and violence are destructive forces beyond our control, omnipresent elements that “shake the mountains”, as e.e. cummings proclaims in his raucous poem here, which yokes the two together more viscerally. The prelapsarian innocence is gone; Blake’s Rose is sick. Yeats calls on the holy sages to guide him in Sailing to Byzantium, for his heart is “sick with desire/ And fastened to a dying animal/It knows not what it is.” Blake answers him from the past in Night II: Self-wisdom may be had, but “it is bought with the price/Of all that a man hath – his house, his wife, his children.” Both poets write of “Artifice” – be it deceitful in the case of Blake, or a property of eternity itself for Yeats. The burning thirst is unquenchable, be it of flesh or spirit, or finally, both. Auden returns once more for “Lullaby”, which forms a postlude for the cycle. “Let the living creature lie,” he writes, of someone who consents to him, and finally, one who is loved and loves without censure: “Mortal, guilty, but to me / The entirely beautiful.”

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BRAD MEHLDAU