Tag: Robert Gound

Helmut Deutsch, Christian Immler, album, music, classical, lieder, Grosz, Gund, Outthere Music, Alpha Classics

Be Still My Heart: A Lieder Album “Meant For Us To Do”

Schubert, Mahler, Brahms, Schumann, and Liszt are names known and celebrated within the world of lieder; Christian Immler and Helmut Deutsch are hoping to add a few more to the list. The celebrated bass baritone and collaborative pianist are set to release Be Still My Heart (Alpha Classics) featuring the music of Robert Gund (1865-1927) and Wilhelm Grosz (1894-1939), two composers whose oeuvres have been largely overlooked. This isn’t the first time Immler and Deutsch have highlighted the work of unknown composers. The pair released Hidden Treasure (BIS Records) in 2021, which shone a light on the work of composer Hans Gál. At the time of its release Immler wrote in Gramophone that “(r)eading through and rehearsing music which hasn’t ‘become sound’ for more than a century is for me a powerful combination of curiosity, pioneer spirit and obligation. One is indeed living history!” That spirit of exploration continues with Be Still My Heart, which, amidst its thirty-three tracks, hosts several world-premiere recordings – not a small achievement given the sheer volume and consistently high quality of its respective composers’ output.

Robert Gund, Ludwig Michalek, portrait, composer, lieder, Be Still My Heart, classical

Portrait of Robert Gund by Ludwig Michalek, around 1921. Private collection.

Swiss-born Gund (who used the more French “Gound” for a time before changing it in 1916) enjoyed an illustrious career in Vienna, where, over the course of three decades as a singing and harmony teacher, he built a considerable reputation as both an educator (Alma Mahler was among his students) and composer. He created many works (especially songs) – but also destroyed many, including a symphony, a piano concerto, and an original opera. German writer/musicologist Ernst-Jürgen Dreyer contributed album notes to a 1986 Jubilate vinyl release of songs featuring soprano Franziska Hirzel and pianist Ilona Sándor, and noted that “(f)ew people … suspected that the modest and amiable man known in all salons, father of a family rich in sons, pianist in countless chamber music pieces, sought-after song accompanist and organiser of ‘music jours’ and ‘student productions’, not only had something to add to the songs of the moderns as a composer, but that he surpassed them with genuine song talent.”

In his opening for the liner notes to Be Still My Heart, multi-award-winning producer Michael Haas (who is also the co-founder of Vienna-based exil.arte) quotes a 1905 essay by critic Julius Korngold that savages the contemporaneous state of Viennese lieder while notably singling out Gund for praise; Haas goes on to weigh the reasons behind Gund’s gradual disappearance in music, noting his unique position in Vienna at that time:

… his compositions, as confirmed by Julius Korngold, presented a reliable oasis of stability, offering beauty and inventiveness within the bounds of received convention. Unfortunately, “received convention” was not a priority in the early days Viennese Modernism.
(Michael Haas, Be Still My Heart, 2025)

Wilhelm Grosz, composer, music, Vienna, classical, lieder, music

Wilhelm Grosz, 1927 © Georg Fayer; ÖNB, Bildarchiv Austria

Wilhelm Grosz, twenty-nine years Gund’s junior, was born in Vienna and schooled by a wide range of composers, Franz Schreker among them. Grosz would go on to become the artistic manager of the Ultraphone Gramophone company in Berlin before leading the Kammerspiele Theater in Vienna, though he was forced to flee Austria in 1934. After a short stay in the UK, the composer (who used a number of pseudonyms) moved to New York with plans to continue on to Hollywood, joining other exiled European artists – but he died of a massive heart attack in 1939. His considerable output includes orchestral works, chamber music, film scores, music for two ballets, and three operas; his work would go on to be covered by a range of artists including Frank Sinatra and The Beatles. Haas contextualizes the presence of Grosz within a Viennese progressivism that is more wide than it may first appear, observing the composer’s “metamorphosis from Viennese fin de siècle, to songs for German cinema before teaming up with Billy Kennedy in London under the pseudonyms Will Gross, André Milos, Hugh Williams or Hugh Grant for hits still popular today such as “Isle of Capri” or “Harbour Lights.””

Be Still My Heart celebrates this range by offering a wide array of sounds and experiences. The album, recorded in early 2023 at Munich’s BR-Funkhaus, conveys a deep respect for history alongside a passionate embrace of innovation. With texts by a wide range of writers (including Hesse, Brentano, Morgenstern, Lenau, and Rilke) the album skillfully explores aspects of love, loss, longing, memory, and identity, with a keen sensitivity belying its academic roots. Be Still My Heart is three-dimensional, textured, real, raw, cutting – rooted in a near-forgotten history indeed, but utterly, unmistakably alive with a palpable and timeless passion.

The album is also a showcase for Immler’s intense timbral shading and Deutsch’s intuitive, poetic playing; their interplay, so clear in works like Gund’s “Julinacht” and “Nachts”, or Grosz’s “Helle, sommerliche Nacht” and “Schicksal”, serve to highlight the pair’s clear creative chemistry and near-psychic musical connection. My recent exchange with Christian Immler and Helmut Deutsch touched on forgotten and found histories, the challenges of unknown work (not least in playing it), the joys of long-term collaboration, and what it means to be on the same page in terms of artistic curiosity.

Helmut Deutsch, Christian Immler, album, music, classical, lieder, Grosz, Gund, Outthere Music, Alpha Classics“A Distinct Musical Language”

Why do you think Robert Gund’s work is so largely unknown now?

HD It’s quite unbelievable that his work is so completely forgotten. Here is a man who had performed his own symphony in the Vienna Musikverein, who was close to Mahler and before that to Brahms; he was really in the music world of Vienna in those years. But we don’t know what happened.

CI We are baffled by his music being so unknown, but there are a few theories. Helmut and I have been like detectives through the years, finding and recording unusual repertoire alongside well-known works; in those instances we were usually lucky if we got ten good songs from our investigations – but Gund wrote hundreds of songs, many of them in absolute top quality, so we really had a hard time choosing what to feature on this album – I think that’s the best compliment we can give him.

Halls will often skew their programming toward box office, especially now – “We know we can sell tickets to star names and/or Schumann/Schubert/Mahler” – and everyone else is ignored – maybe that thinking played a role also?

HD Well that’s right, and it’s worth noting that amidst those names Gund really cultivated his own language – a distinct musical language – from them; some parts of his work remind me of Brahms a little bit, but there are things in his writing which you cannot compare easily to any other composer of his time.

Yet he destroyed some of his early works, didn’t he?

HD Yes, in his very young years, he had written a symphony and a piano concerto – which he burned.

CI I wrote to the library of the Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde (Society of Friends of Music) in Vienna, and I really tried to learn more. I mean, for that kind of a destruction, you don’t have to only destroy your piano part, you have to destroy all the orchestral parts – and absolutely everything seems to be really, really gone. So he really meant it when he burned his own work – but it cannot have been bad if it was premiered at the same time as Zemlinsky’s symphony, right?

Zemlinsky was just one of his many music contacts, is that right?

CI Yes – along with composing, Gund had been the archivist of the Tonkünstlerverein association founded by Schoenberg in Vienna, and he had been Alma Mahler’s counterpoint teacher; he had also played four-hand piano with Brahms! He had all these people on what you might call speed-dial now. Along with these connections Gund was one of the first musicians to promote and actually present lecture-recitals in which he would discuss his research on the complexities of thematic connections in music – and he was twice married to a singer, so he had easy access to interpreters. But I think at heart he was a private person, and he just didn’t like the craziness of what an international career would demand. I met Gund’s grandson, and the more we spoke, the more it seemed as if this was true. Gund, as a composer, seems to have been extremely private.

Natural, Elegant, Evocative

So how would you characterize Gund’s writing then?

CI The quality of his writing is phenomenal! And – I don’t say this lightly – I am hopeful, if not convinced, that more people will be performing his songs now. I have had so many young students already say, “I love this, where can I get the music?” and I tell them: it’s printed. The majority of his lieder were printed in his lifetime, and they are available now; you don’t have to go to any society and get the manuscripts. It’s all printed, everything is out there. And this album with Helmut feels like it was something which was meant for us to do.

What were the unique challenges of not only choosing which pieces to play, but then perfecting and recording them?

HD We had difficulties making selections because there are only so many minutes you can have on a CD. When we first selected the songs we liked, we went far over the running time – so we had to edit, and it was really very hard for us to say goodbye to so many wonderful works. There is much more to discover of Gund than is even on this record.

CI The main thing we wanted was to have a nice mix; some of the songs make use of unique metres, like 5/4, but Gund uses the time in such a refined way that it just lulls you in. And I think Helmut can confirm that some composers try to get the piano accompaniment right, but Gund comes from a more pianistic side already – he was lucky to be married to singers who probably also had their influence on his writing – but the piano parts are incredibly interesting. So whenever, as a singer, I had the feeling that I needed a little injection of energy, it was right there. Gund uses very simple things, things that, in my opinion, only a master composer can apply in such a way. His writing feels very natural, very right, simple but elegant, and very evocative and realistically idiomatic for the actual instrument, whether voice or piano.

“A Rollercoaster of Musical Styles”

So why Gund and Grosz, together?

CI To start at the beginning: Helmut actually found a book about Robert Gund. That was the initiative. I think; you stumbled across it by chance – correct me if that’s not right, Helmut?

HD It was in Bonn, in a bookshop; there were two books there for five marks – so it was a long time ago indeed – they had Gund’s musical life only, and an appendix with 40 songs. I tried to encourage my former students in Munich with them, and some of them performed a few of the works – but It needed a person like Christian to conduct more research and to find all his other songs. We found out that there is much, much, much more. They both have the connection to Vienna, of course…

CI Yes, the combination with Gund and Grosz was done with reference to very different eras for Vienna composers; I also wrote part of my doctorate about Wilhelm Grosz and the recital scene in Vienna between the two wars. Gund and Grosz meet kind of right in the middle of an era in flux; one person is kind of tapering off and the other person is just emerging. Obviously the style of each is different, but having them both on one recording gives you a little rollercoaster of musical styles, and also a choice of poems; then it ends on Grosz’s English-language songs, which are much lighter.

What makes Grosz’s writing unique?

CI He had an incredible gift for melody, in my opinion, his sense of melody is just so sticky. We mention it in the booklet also, that his work has been covered by the likes of Frank Sinatra, Nat King Cole, The Beatles.

HD Initially with the early Grosz songs, I wondered: could I, maybe for a few minutes, be 30 years old again, just to find out whether it’s just my current age making these works difficult, or if they are really so complicated? A lot of parts in these early songs he wrote are on three systems, or, not only three systems – Debussy used this kind of writing also – but most of the chords Grosz writes for both hands have ten voices. And there are a lot of really complicated things in terms of where to put this middle line – in your right hand and in your left hand. Despite my age, I would consider myself not bad at sight-reading…

CI You are the best!

HD … but you could read one chord at one point, and you needed three or four seconds there to figure out the next chord; then the next and the next. In the end, it should be a more or less flowing tempo. After ten days, I was really very close to saying, “Christian, I’m very sorry, I give up.” But I didn’t give up. Now, after a while away from Grosz’s songs for a bit, I look at one of them and that feeling starts again – this can also be extremely difficult. So while Gund was certainly a very good pianist and did write very effective things on the piano, they are not difficult by comparison with Grosz.

CI The feeling of finding music like this… I mean you have an idea of its sound if you look at the music of the time, but there is really no comparison either. You don’t feel any influence by Brahms – maybe there’s a little bit in some songs – but there is no influence by Mahler. There are also no comparisons with recordings as with these other composers, like “This is the best recording of this and that” – when you are making the 250th recording of Winterreise, for example, you can scan generations, but here, you have to find out together, with a musical partner, and this was a fascination.

Discovering Together (With Wine)

Helmut Deutsch, Christian Immler, album, music, classical, lieder, Grosz, Gund, Outthere Music, Alpha Classics

Helmut Deutsch (L) and Christian Immler (R). Photo: Andrej Grilc

How has the working chemistry between you changed through the years? And do you, together, feel like ambassadors for these little-known lieder composers?

HD It’s thanks to these composers that the quality is, very much, in the music. And we have, if I may say so, Christian, the same taste.

CI This is very true!

HD It’s always a bad signal if you have to have a lot of discussions about a tempo, about a rubato or the like: “Why do you do this? I would like to go straight forward and you are hesitating.” I can’t remember any discussion of this kind working with Christian. One has to be very thankful to have a partner who feels the same.

CI Yes. I mean, it evolves from rehearsal to rehearsal, but talking about tempo is for me, very annoying. A purely music-making and non-verbal rehearsal is often more effective! The only thing we discussed, really, was which white wine to put into the fridge for dinner – that was important! But the prolongation of our curiosity is something I’m very fortunate to share with Helmut; it’s been a long collaboration already. And I don’t know any other pianist with whom one can have so much fun, just sitting at the piano and trying things out. It is incredible to examine repertoire like this.

Be Still My Heart (Alpha Classics) is released on 28 February 2025.
Top photo: Andrej Grilc
Christian Immler, opera, singer, performer, artist, vocal, classical

Christian Immler: Balancing New Projects & Old Favorites

Since our last conversation in early 2021, bass baritone Christian Immler has been busy. As was the case with many artists, the bass baritone’s schedule changed dramatically as a result of pandemic-related lockdowns; his approach to music, as you’ll read in our recent conversation below, didn’t change but intensified and expanded, particularly within the realms of score study, synergy with colleagues, and active public engagement.

In December 2022 Immler performed with the Czech Philharmonic and conductor Semyon Bychkov in the lauded world premiere of Prager Symphony, Lyric Fragments after Franz Kafka (Symphony No. 4) by contemporary German composer Detlev Glanert. Based directly on the work of Franz Kafka (including his letters, short stories, novels, and fragments from his notebooks) the work is an immense, daring exploration of the lyric symphonic form, with scoring for orchestra and two voices (bass baritone and mezzo), spread over twelve sections. As the composer told Bachtrack just prior to the premiere, the work is “a psychological landscape, where two people tell us something about ourselves: a story of life from the very beginning to the end, plus all human circumstances you can imagine: being witty, the pain of violence, happiness, and so on.” Prager Symphony will be presented again later this year, with Bychkov and Immler – in June, with the Concertgebouw and Gewandhaus respectively, and the UK premiere happening in November with the BBC Symphony.

Along with learning and performing the Glanert work, the bass baritone also released the album Das heiße Herz (Alpha Classics) with pianist Andreas Frese, featuring the music of Robert Schumann and contemporary German composer Jörg Widmann. Released in mid-2022, the work features songs from Schumann’s 1849 cycle Lieder und Gesänge aus ‘Wilhelm Meister’ (text by Goethe) as well as the composer’s 1850 cycle ‘6 Gedichte von N. Lenau und Requiem’; the world-premiere recording of Widmann’s Heisse Herz (The Burning Heart) comprises the album’s second half, with Immler conveying a stunning (and stunningly controlled) level of musicality, sometimes utilizing sprechstimme to exude the emotional intensity Widmann’s writing necessitates. A review in Opera News early this year (which singled the album out for its monthly Critics Choice designation) noted the degree to which Immler “shows a performance artist’s mastery of the work’s considerable demands, as does the fearless (pianist) Frese, who thunders, tremolos and occasionally slams the keyboard or strums the inside, in addition to playing with great tenderness when called upon.”

Our recent conversation began by my asking Immler about his fascinating exploration of the little-known music of Wilhelm Grosz (1984-1939) and Robert Gund (also spelled Gound; 1865-1927) which use texts by a range of celebrated European writers, including Eduard Mörike (1804-1875), Joseph von Eichendorff (1788-1857), and Clemens Brentano (1778-1842). The album, set for release in early 2025 on Alpha Classics, sees Immler reunite with pianist Helmut Deutsch, with whom he previously collaborated on a gorgeous 2021 album showcasing the largely unknown music of Hans Gál. The thought of Immler and the pianist reuniting for a project featuring music few know well (or are aware of at all) is a needed bit of hope amidst a still-difficult classical environment.

Immler is just embarking on an extensive Northern European tour, performing the work of another composer whose works he knows well; St. Matthew Passion is being presented by famed Bach conductor Masato Suzuki and the Netherlands Bach Society in twelve different locales between March 25th and April 8th. Before the tour began Immler took time to offer thoughts on everything from covid-related cancellations to the earthy writing of both Bach and contemporary composers. Immler is always inspiring to speak with, whether he’s discussing the finer points of scores, sharing the realities of singing works of rarely-heard composers, or how the simple act of breathing informs and influences musicianship; our recent midwinter exchange was, quite simply, a joy.

Christian Immler, Helmut Deutsch, opera, classical, lieder, voice, piano, music, performance, Hans Gál

Christian Immler and Helmut Deutsch. Photo: Marcus Boman

How’s your work with Helmut Deutsch coming along?

It’s great! We both love this repertoire. There are cases where something will seem like a good idea and then you work with someone, in a duo, and it’s one person pulling the other – but not with Helmut, not at all. We both pull in one direction. With this repertoire, it is really a total discovery. I’m not unused to reading through unfamiliar repertoire but this time there is the added thrill of manuscripts – that’s all there is  – so we had to transfer them into Sibelius, all these songs composed as lieder. We did a test run for an audience of around ten people, and had to preface it with, “this is most likely the very first performance of this song cycle!”

What has your process been so far?

Helmut has been cursing me – playfully – for introducing him to this repertoire. The Grosz is very difficult to play; there are so many things are happening at the same time in the piano lines, and he says he needs a few more fingers. Nobody realizes how difficult it is, again, because this repertoire is so unknown. We don’t talk very much, a couple of times we verbalize what we want but the rest is push-pull, and listening.

Listening seems vital, whether it’s for a duo project or for larger performances, like Glanert’s Prager Symphony.

A lot of people can listen if they don’t do anything else, but if you have to do your work, playing and singing, and listen at the same time – that’s a special skill set, because you need to do what you do, and intrinsically listen to the other person at the same time. Helmut knows the text, and I know his piano part very well; sometimes I’ll look more down to what he’s doing and not only to my singer’s part. You have to process a lot at the same time. Also, we need to breathe – everybody knows that – but you wouldn’t believe how many conductors ultimately have no idea what that means; Semyon does. He and Helmut both use their breath as a means of expressivity, and it makes all the difference. When they intuitively run out of breath, they renew themselves. So it’s natural, we both do it. If you have well-written repertoire that breath comes very naturally anyway, but if it’s mediocre writing, and the phrases are really long, you think, “okay, I have to take an odd breath here” but it doesn’t usually happen with good composers.

That synergy is interesting given your recent projects use texts by authors who are long dead and/or did not write specifically for singers. 

It is known that Kafka, although he did not have an aversion to music, did not want some of his texts set to music..

… and yet!

… yes, Max Brod didn’t quite comply there! He didn’t burn the papers Kafka had written after his death. Glanert and Widmann have both said that at a certain point, they have to let their work go. Both are very experienced, so it means at one point they realize it’s no longer controlled by them, and they accept performers might have a slightly different viewpoint or approach, and I think there is a wisdom in this. They’re both great at letting things go. Glanert was present during rehearsals with the Czech Phil and took notes, and when there were moments of difficulty, instruments groups were too soft or loud or whatever, he, without running to the stage and making a fuss, would take notes, and Semyon would come and they’d communicate about it. The process was super-fluid in terms of it being a true work-in-progress situation. We didn’t have many rehearsals of that, either.

The subsequent performances of it this year may have more rehearsals, then?

I have a huge advantage now because I know the piece, but for orchestras, it’s different. Mind you, those other orchestras – the Amsterdam Concertgebouw, the Leipzig Gewandhaus – are super-orchestras, even with their different approaches. And I have to say also: the Czech Phil is stunning, just… top.

To what extent do you think these songs, and Kafka’s texts, have acquired a new relevance?

It’s funny, that work, as well as the songs I’m doing with Helmut and the theme of my doctoral research, it’s all on work done roughly 100 years ago – yet these poems, at this very moment, in my opinion, have an incredible modernity and relevance. You read some of them, and … well, so I read The Guardian in the mornings, and you see these terrible things about the war in Ukraine, and you see these works, and they resonate as a part of our time, right now.

How does this work and the Widmann speak to that time? And how much do you think listening as a result of that time changed?

Both Widmann and Glanert have a lot of experience in the operatic field and a high level of awareness. They won’t waste opportunities in sound; if they want a big turmoil they know how to create it, and likewise they can create the absence of sound and the power of pauses and stillness. They totally understand – it’s quite unsettling in the Glanert, you think, holy! You could hear a needle drop. It only happens if the ear is preconditioned in the writing, and both of them can do this very well.

For me, and so many who experienced an unprecedented level of isolation and loneliness, and a lack of outside distraction if you will, there was a total feeling of insecurity of what is going to happen. Nobody knew. I find in a lot in these poems, especially in the Kafka texts, there is a sense of basically trying to come out of that situation by saying, “Okay, let’s state we are lonely, and the only way we can kind of overcome this is by stating it first of all and being aware of it, and then sticking together.” This first Kafka text, if you read it, it’s so strong, it states: we are lonely yet we are interconnected by a network of invisible threads, and it’s bad enough if they loosen, but it’s terrible if one of them falls. That, to a certain degree, is what we all experienced in early 2020.

But somehow there is a hope through humanity, and that sounds grand, but these songs don’t leave you feeling dark, they leave you with a sense of… hope is not enough… but that there’s a chance for humanity. And it’s an important balance to what I read in the newspaper.

That seems more rooted in reality. 

Yes and I do like that these composers don’t go into the religious sphere or some form of theism, or into any kind of metaphysical sphere at all – everything stays deeply human, earthy and rooted, and thus very approachable. The subtext of them is: you don’t have to be a believer to come out of this darkness.

That’s exactly where they reminded me of Bach, which is perhaps odd…

It’s not odd!

Bach is associated with deep religiosity, but in St. Matthew Passion, for instance, the writing is blood-and-guts human, and it’s the embrace of that messiness which opens the door to the divine. The line between Bach and these modern works is not that long, is it?

It really isn’t It’s funny, I was standing in the Liszt Academy in Budapest recently – which is a total dream building, by the way – I was in a corridor and remembered being there one-and-a-half years ago, being tested with the orchestra, and at 5 in the afternoon the performance was cancelled; the entire bass section had covid. It was like a sudden rain-shower but you don’t know what to do; we are not programmed as artists to know what to do. When I get up on a performance day I am geared to that one thing in the evening when I am meant to deliver. It’s a lot of energy… this very earthy, a very sharply human experience…

How has that time influenced you in terms of singing both contemporary music like Widmann and Baroque?

In terms of the Widmann, it’s the most difficult thing I’ve ever learned, and if you don’t hear that I take it as a compliment. The scoring is very detailed! He is a total musician; he wants to define it as well as possible, but then you have to have it in your system. The actual level of preparation was intense; there is so much information coming your way, you can’t ignore it, and say, “Oh I feel it this way” – that isn’t possible. You have to prepare it to that level of detail and then know it subconsciously. It was an incredible amount of preparation, apart from pitching and rhythm, and the extended vocal techniques; he would write things in the direction like, ‘Dangerously Through Your Teeth’ or ‘Psychedelically Sung’ for certain passages, but it always makes sense. And, this may sound banal, but it could be Widmann or Monteverdi or Bach or Glanert, but look at it and I’ll think, “This is just top-class writing!”

Do you think preparing for something like the Widmann works would have been different in 2019?

I would say no …

So the pandemic didn’t change your approach that much… ?

It changed how people got together, via Zoom or not at all. The loneliness of preparation, overall, was strong for everything. Just after musicians here were allowed to come together again I did the Beethoven/Leonore with René Jacobs, it was just a piano rehearsal with the cast, and everybody started crying. It was such a release of… like, you can practice and vocalize, but it’s a profession which has to be done in community, and with a third ingredient in this: the public. The feeling of being together was unbelievable. For this experience we were grateful to have that return, to know we weren’t alone.

So yes, I stayed faithful to preparing well and being detailed, but, like the first time I sang the St. Matthew Passion, you come out of the pandemic experience a different person, obviously. It changes your whole perception of music and life. You can prepare the piece but the effect it leaves when you present it live… you cannot prepare for that.

Top Photo: Marco Borggreve

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