Title: Der Abend (The Evening)
First line: Purpur malt die Tannenhugel
Poet: Friedrich von Matthisson
D-number: 108
Date: July 1814
Used recording: Daniel Norman, accompanied by Graham Johnson (The
Hyperion Schubert Edition Vol. 33: The Young Schubert, Track 21, 3:00)

Friedrich von Matthisson (1761 - 1831) would be forgotten by everyone
except scholars of German literature if it wasn't for one poem - or
better: for one Lied this poem got changed into: "Adelaide" by Beethoven.
Matthisson was born near Magdeburg and had to make a living as a teacher
(as so many German poets, e.g. Holderlin), then he accompanied the Duchess
Luise von Anhalt-Dessau on journeys, spending sophistication and interesting
chit-chat on cultural matters. He later worked as a theatre director and
librarian in Stuttgart. In his time he was one of the best-loved German
poets, Schiller and Wieland liked his classicistic poetry but the
Romantiker (and we, their admirers) found much left to be desired about
Matthisson's affected lines: "Purpur malt die Tannenhugel / Nach der
Sonne Scheideblick" (The pine-covered hills are painted with purple after
the sun's parting glance), the beginning of "Der Abend" is a striking
example of florid fustian (and the English translation is much clearer
than the original lines). The poem really is not good, the picture which
is painted of nature in sunset is obviously not directly felt but an
artistic construction (that's the main criticism by the Romantiker).

What is the poem about? The sun sets on pines, poplars and a brook. All
the birds fall asleep. Only the cricket goes on singing its mournful
evening song. The narrator imagines that the cricket one day will sing
its song over his early grave (Matthisson died 60 years old, so this,
too, is invention and cliche). Then he will listen to it as he does now
(with ghostly ears, I presume). - The scene reminds the reader of a
carefully draped stage, all the props are there (the setting son, the
purple sky, a brook, a poplar grove, a cricket, a rosebush symbolizing
friendship, an early grave, a hill) for a tenderly decadent and slightly
macabre summer night. All this, as Melville put it, "somehow mildly
reminded him of his mortality".

"Susse Trauermelodien" (sweet, mournful melodies) is what the cricket
sings - and this is a good description for this maybe not great and very
important, but definitely lovely Lied. Schubert's setting is much better
than the Matthisson poem. I am a fan and a lover so my reaction may not
be representative: but the very first notes touch me deeply like some
kind of lullaby. Schubert's evocation of evening does not at all seem
constructed and florid, it has, due to the flowing, gently dancing rhythm,
the pleasant setting for the voice and a repeated descending arpeggio
in the first three stanzas, something mildly melancholic (D minor, you
see, does something to my system). Only stanza No. 4 interrupts the
Traumerei since it is set as a recitative marking the idea of death. But
the Lied instantly finds back to the melody of the first three stanzas
thus showing that death is not the end: the narrator will listen to the
cricket in eternity. The Lied ends with the same D-F-D tune (NOT the
singer!) it began with: a perfect circle, the wonderful idea that death
may be sad but that it is not the end.

It is for Winterreise and Mullerin that I admire Schubert but it is for
the enourmous amount of simple, unspectacular, humble but very touching
Lieder like this that I love him. Daniel Norman's friendly tenor and
Graham Johnson's unobtrusive piano do their best to help the listener
come to this conclusion.

Robert