Showing posts with label Robert Schumann. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Robert Schumann. Show all posts

Saturday, December 09, 2017

Saturday Night Music



Martha Argerich *5 June 1941

Robert Schumann (8 June 1810 – 29 July 1856)

Franz Liszt (22 October 1811 – 31 July 1886)

Maurice Ravel (7 March 1875 – 28 December 1937)

Tuesday, June 08, 2010

And thus ends a day with Schumann





Es war, als hätt' der Himmel
Die Erde still geküsst
Dass sie im Blütenschimmer
Von ihm nun träumen müsst

Die Luft ging durch die Felder
Die Ähren wogten sacht
Es rauschten leis die Wälder
So sternklar war die Nacht

Und meine Seele spannte
Weit ihre Flügel aus
Flog durch die stillen Lande
Als flöge sie nach Haus



It was as though the sky
had silently kissed the earth,
so that it now had to dream of sky
in shimmers of flowers.

The air went through the fields,
the corn-ears leaned heavy down
the woods swished softly—
so clear with stars was the night

And my soul stretched
its wings out wide,
flew through the silent lands
as though it were flying home.

[To esteemed visitors who might come to think 'this is/seems to be suboptimal a translation of Eichendorff's poem': You may even say: It's a lousy one! - However, such an admirer of Eichendorff I am not that I'd  ask McSeanagall to make it better. In other words: I don't like the poet, but this very piece of music.]

Poet(s) of Love







Schumann 'In foreign lands'

Fairy Tales ...

for viola (Yuri Bashmet) and piano (Mikhail Mutian).

On Robert Schumann's 200th

Today 200 years ago a child was born: Robert Schumann.

What could be more natural then than beginning Omnium's little homage à Schumann with his Kinderszenen / Scenes from Childhood?
Thus, take your time, cl... ah, no!

First of all let me wave farewell to all busy contemporaries by whom as it's noise-related, music is not appreciated, and / or to whom 17:37 minutes are a big heap of time 'within which I could easily visit appr. 35 blogs and leave 40 comments'.

Oh. You are still there? Fine.
Thus, close your eyes, remember (some of) those magic moments in your childhood of which I hope you had a plenty, or better: become again the child that once you were. And if when opening your eyes after 17:10 minutes you feel a salty drop in their corners like the ones you are detecting in the great Horowitz' eyes: there's no reason to regret ...