Schubert: The Hyperion Schubert Edition, Vol. 3 – Ann Murray
Archive Service; also available on CDS44201/40CDJ33003
The final section illustrates the maxim that the ideas which seem the most inevitable to us do not always spring immediately to the creator's mind. The first version of the song (D545A) has death singing in the depths of G minor which makes the work almost umperformable by a single singer. Surprisingly enough, in this first version the appearance of death is not prefaced by an interlude which uses the famous rhythmic and harmonic motifs from the Claudius song; neither is there a postlude to put us in mind of Der Tod und das Mädchen. It is only in the second version that this seemingly inevitable self-quotation takes place. The key is now D minor (could death in Vienna speak in any other key since Mozart's Commendatore?) and the tread of the predator/liberator is the familiar one. For those who feel tempted (almost everyone) to take the slow-looking minims and crotchets of the Claudius setting at a funereal pace, it is instructive to see that Schubert has on this occasion written out the death interlude in notes of half the value. The scythe of the Grim Reaper, gliding forwards for his harvest, has cut time into a gliding two-in-a-bar. The speed of the passages in both songs is certainly meant to be the same.
Josef von Spaun came from a well-to-do and semi-noble Linz family. He was a good nine years older than Schubert and had been a student at the Imperial Seminary in Vienna two years before the young composer won a scholarship there on the strength of his singing. From the very beginning the older boy took an interest in the younger's talent, ensuring that Schubert had enough music paper on which to write his increasingly adventurous compositions. When Schubert was in his teens, Spaun introduced him to the poet Mayrhofer, to the fun-loving dilettante Schober, and to the opera singer Vogl; all three men were to have a crucial influence on Schubert's lif. Spaun also made every effort, albeit unsuccessful, to interest Goethe in Schubert's songs. Goethe's failure to answer his letter on Schubert's behalf may have had something to do with the fact that the lion of Weimar knew that Spaun's uncle Franz Seraphicus, who lived in Munich, was a virulent opponent of his work. Spaun returned to his home town when he was appointed to a magistracy in Linz. There is a grain of truth in the comic exaggeration of forsaken comradeship in Herrn Josef von Spaun (Volume 4) for his absence from Vienna must have been keenly felt: this was in the very period (1821-26) when Schubert most needed good advice and comfort in times of illness and tribulation. It is generally agreed that the composer never had a better friend than the generous and stable Spaun who went on to become a distinguished civil servant. If he lacked the fantasy and daredevil freedom of some of Schubert's other friends, notably Schober, his written memories of the composer have proved the most reliable, and his judicious ability to see the events and persona of the epoch in perspective show him to have been a man of tolerance, insight and loyalty.
from notes by Graham Johnson © 1989