Composers › Hugo Wolf › Programme note
3 Mignon Songs from Gedichte von Goethe(1888)
Gerald Larner wrote 2 versions of differing length — choose one below.
Heiss mich nicht reden
So lasst mich scheinen
Kennst du das Land?
Wolf was neither the first nor the last composer to be fascinated by the personality of Mignon in Goethe’s Wilhelm Meisters Lehrjahre, to be touched by her waif-like vulnerability, moved by her premature wisdom,
inspired by the beauty of the songs the author attributes to her. But he was probably the most serious. Bearing in mind Schubert’s ten-year long and highly fruitful obsession with Mignon - not to mention the achievements of Schumann and all the others from Zelter and Beethoven onwards - it might seem an extravagant claim. Wolf, however, was uncompromising in his search for the truth. Whereas Schubert’s setting of Heiss mich nicht reden, for example, is a song, Wolf’s is an anti-song, a refusal to betray Mignon into melodious self-expression when, as she says, it is her duty to conceal her innermost thoughts. In spite of the Tristanesque beginnng, the piano harmonies respect her situation and are more inclined to insist on her self-denial than to tempt her into lyrical confidences.
In So lasst mich scheinen Mignon is in a quite different situation. Dressed as an angel to distribute presents at a children’s charade, she both foresees her early death and is reconciled to it. She refuses to take off her winged costume, takes up her zither and gives voice to her presentiments without bitterness and with an angelic purity of line This is an occasion for melody, even if it is confined largely to the grave, gracefully drooping dance in the zither accompaniment, the drone harmonies and plucked articulation of which are suggested with exquisite discretion in the piano part.
The first of the four Mignon songs Wolf completed in a matter of days in December 1888 (Nur wer die Sehsucht kennt is omitted on this occasion) is also the most emotional. Simply constructed in a modified strophic form, it theoretically runs the risk of predictability. In fact, the piano’s explosion of passion just before “Kennst du es wohl?” and its rumbling response to Mignon’s cries of “Dahin! Dahin!” always come as a shock, not least on the last occasion where its dramatic effect is not so much reduced as enhanced by the vocal exclamation and the flood of piano figuration just before it.
From Gerald Larner’s files: “Kennst du das Land”
Heiss mich nicht reden
So lasst mich scheinen
Kennst du das Land?
Wolf was neither the first nor the last composer to be fascinated by the personality of Mignon in Goethe’s Wilhelm Meisters Lehrjahre, to be touched by her waif-like vulnerability, moved by her premature wisdom,
inspired by the beauty of the songs the author attributes to her. But he was probably the most serious. Bearing in mind Schubert’s ten-year long and highly fruitful obsession with Mignon - not to mention the achievements of Schumann and all the others from Zelter and Beethoven onwards - it might seem an extravagant claim. Wolf, however, was uncompromising in his search for the truth. Whereas Schubert’s setting of Heiss mich nicht reden, for example, is a song, Wolf’s is an anti-song, a refusal to betray Mignon into melodious self-expression when, as she says, it is her duty to conceal her innermost thoughts. In spite of the Tristanesque beginning, the piano harmonies respect her situation and are more inclined to insist on her self-denial than to tempt her into lyrical confidences.
In So lasst mich scheinen Mignon is in a quite different situation. Dressed as an angel to distribute presents at a children’s charade, she both foresees her early death and is reconciled to it. She refuses to take off her winged costume, takes up her zither and gives voice to her presentiments without bitterness and with an angelic purity of line This is an occasion for melody, even if it is confined largely to the grave, gracefully drooping dance in the zither accompaniment, the drone harmonies and plucked articulation of which are suggested with exquisite discretion in the piano part.
The first of the four Mignon songs Wolf completed in a matter of days in December 1888 (Nur wer die Sehsucht kennt is omitted on this occasion) is also the most emotional. Simply constructed in a modified strophic form, Kennst du das Land? theoretically runs the risk of predictability. In fact, the piano’s explosion of passion just before “Kennst du es wohl?” and its rumbling response to Mignon’s cries of “Dahin! Dahin!” always come as a shock, not least on the last occasion where their dramatic effect is not so much reduced as enhanced by the vocal exclamation and the flood of piano figuration just before it.
From Gerald Larner’s files: “Heiss mich nicht reden”