"A wonderful musical transfiguration of love in all its forms. A love that changes shape and color as a cloud in the mouth of the wind, at sunset.'s What the first" Sinfonia Lirica " Alexander Zemlinsky. A huge fresco of notes and orchestral colors, mystical, dreamy and emotional strain of abandonment. A world where singing and music come together in perfect communion, as the pleasure of two bodies get naked, or two souls who listen to mirroring one another. A beautiful orchestral lieder cycle for soprano, baritone and orchestra, with texts full of lyricism and sensuality of the great poet Rabindranath Tagore.
"Ich bin friedlos" are restless. With these words, which the symphony opens its curtain to the landscapes of the soul and deepest desire. The baritone sings his impulse to transcendence in a song full of tension as a skyline full of clouds. Tension that is sublimated in fierce orchestral colors, in a constant emotional turmoil and music, with dark colors and sparkling with timpani, violins and brass, and sharp notes of a flute that echoes the "thirst for distant things" that no one can heal nearby . The emotional tension is dissolved in a mischievous innocence in the second song "Mutter, der junge Prinz", where the celebrated soprano so ethereal and dreamy love her anxiety for the young prince, who will go with his coach under the windows of the young woman. A song sometimes ecstatic, sensual, sometimes ironic and disillusioned, but that suddenly grows in a "very strong" orchestral scary. Something breaks inside and that we can no longer hold. You as if the levees broke and the words of soul singers die in the silence of a kiss, with the orchestra to overthrow angrily waves of sounds to cover the sensuality of this silence.
further transformed in the atmosphere "Du bist die Abendwolke" where the musical landscape is steeped in mystical tones and fragrant as incense, where the sensual eroticism is depicted by the stamp of the English horn, while the passionate baritone intones: You're the cloud that wanders in the night sky of my dreams. An erotic lied and lulling, opulent refined as a garden full of palms, ferns, water lilies, lotus. A song with intense colors of a sunset, which is a prelude to the climate of the fourth night lied in the cycle, "Sprice zu mir, Geliebter". The atmosphere here is thin, spectral lines, with the violin to serve as alter-ego to the soprano in a sensual dialogue with themselves, even before the other. "Tell me, my love," and the invocation of trembling soprano rises to the sky almost like a prayer, a supplication, and then goes off bitterly in the finals: The day will come and we guardaremo eyes, before everyone follow his path. The quiet ecstatic that lied, strongly opposes "BeFree 'mich von den Banden," where on a bed of drums and horns, baritone proclaims me free from the bonds of your sweetness, and let me to offer my heart of man freed. The shortest song, angry, violent, like a vortex that pulls into the abyss of the end of love. And so, in the sixth song, "I wanted denn das letzte Lied", the response of the soprano is cold, and the music sinks like the passion to those depths where there's no light to heat up.
The symphony ends in a serene atmosphere of acceptance, but not without thrills of sensuality, with "Friede, mein Herz." And 'as if, after such a storm of emotions, the soul opens up the sky blue color, and light rays filtering through the clouds that memories are chasing fast as the train of thought. Let that love is based on memory and the pain becomes singing. And the memory and love to be perpetuated in una lunga e vibrant orchestral coda, senza più parole "
Fonte. JohnofPatmos http://www.debaser.it/recensionidb/ID_6255/Alexander_von_Zemlinsky_Lyrische_Symphonie.htm
I'm restless, I'm thirsty for distant things.
My soul goes out in longing to touch
the skirt of the dim distance.
O Great Beyond, O without charge, call your flute.
I forget, I always forget
That I have no wings to fly,
that I am bound in this spot
for all time.
I am eager and vigilant,
I am a stranger in a foreign country;
Thy breath comes to me
And whispering an impossible hope.
your language sounds familiar
my heart as its very own.
O Far, O the keen call of thy flute.
I forget, I forget
That I do not know the way
That I do not have the winged horse.
I am listless, I am a wanderer in my heart.
In the sunny haze of languid hours
Welch vast vision of you is designed
In the blueness of the sky.
O Farthest end, O the keen call of thy flute.
I forget, I forget immer, überall verschlossen
Dass die Türen sind in dem Hause, Wo ich
einsam Wohne or fernstes Ende, Rufen deiner Flöte
O ungestümes.
I have no peace, are hungry for things remote.
My soul is dragged in
desire to touch the edge of the vast darkness.
O great beyond, as impetuous calls of your flute!
I forget always
I miss the wings to fly,
that this piece of land are chained
forever.
I am full of desire and be steady,
Stranger in a Strange Land;
comes to me your breath
and whispers to me unrealistic hopes.
Your language sounds familiar to my heart
as his own language. O
distant goal, as impetuous calls of your flute!
I forget always
I do not know the way, I do not have
a winged steed.
am restless, I am a wanderer in my heart.
In the mist of sun peak hours
powerful vision of what you
takes shape in the blue sky. O
immensity, impetuous calls of your flute!
I forget always
that the doors are all locked in the house,
where I live in solitude, O
immensity, is a strong reminder of your flute!
translation: Ferdinand Albeggiani
