a poetic blending of seasons: Matthias Goerne in Schubert

There are countless performances of Wotan’s farewell from Die Walküre – a defining moment in opera history and one of the most sublime moments in music – but one of them holds a special place. A place even more special than the rest of the performances that hold a special place. Whenever I return to Matthias Goerne’s performance under Jaap van Zweden in the Hong Kong Ring, it is inevitable: at ‘Diese Augen’, my breath stops and I get goosebumps. Always. There’s no escaping it. Among my favourite Wotans are voices of mythical stature – including Friedrich Schnorr and George London – but Goerne adds something else: the intelligent refinement of the lieder singer who displays an unrivalled sensitivity to the text. His supreme god descends to a deeply human level, where, entirely free of declamation, he makes his case with a narrative persuasiveness of a rare and lofty order. Goerne’s voice and Wagner’s magical notes conjure up a world in sound that no staging could ever do justice to.

In 2019, Goerne said he was giving himself another five years as a singer. It is now well past 2024, and fortunately he has gone back on that decision. But time is running out, and hearing Goerne perform live – with retirement on the horizon – is a real treat. In Milan, at the Teatro Dal Verme, Goerne gave a recital of songs by Franz Schubert in orchestral arrangements for baritone and ensemble (three cheers! – the CD ‘Schubert Revisited’ featuring these orchestral arrangements of the songs is firmly stuck in my CD player). Goerne has lost weight; he seems more fragile – I can no longer see him returning to a full-scale ‘Walküre’ Wotan – but as a lieder singer, and especially in Schubert, he remains a sensation.

Before the concert began, conductor Diego Fasolis asked the audience not to applaud between songs, but to wait until the end, as one would with a symphony. In the first two songs ('An Silvia' and 'Schäfers Klagelied'), the balance between the Orchestra I Pomeriggi Musicali and Goerne still felt somewhat precarious. The voice seemed to struggle with an overly intrusive orchestral presence – as if the singer were walking through a forest where the branches of the trees were being whipped into his face by a strong wind. Schubert’s intimacy was momentarily pushed into the background here. But from the third song ('Des Fischers Liebesglück') onwards, everything fell into place. The orchestral timbres and the polished timbre of Goerne’s voice began to interlock with remarkable precision. What followed was a deeply compelling Schubert, a seamless fusion of melody, text and tone colour, in which nothing was imposed and everything came about naturally.

Schubert’s music feels like a springtime stroll beneath trees cloaked in autumnal colours – a poetic blending of seasons. It is melancholic, a sadness that offers comfort; a gentle lullaby that soothes the soul. His music is pervaded by a sense of time that does not so much pass as dissolve into infinitely small, frozen moments. The composer, who lived to be just 31, knew how to capture eternity like few others.

Goerne’s artistry lies in the fact that he never overdramatises, never seeks to create a sensation. He resists the temptation to display power and instead allows the storyteller within him to prevail. In doing so, he transcends genres and sings meaning into a score in an inimitable way. Hearing Goerne sing Schubert is like hearing Radu Lupu play Schubert on the piano: a listening experience with a soft, velvety detail that hypnotises rather than overwhelms, revealing a palette of colours and nuances that unfolds like a leporello. The observation that Goerne did not sing ‘Der Erlkönig’ here, a song that benefits splendidly from an orchestral arrangement, may be regarded as a minor quibble in an otherwise sublime concert.

MATTHIAS GOERNE
Teatro Dal Verme, Milano, 9 April 2026
Schubert Lieder / Orchestra I Pomeriggi Musicali / Diego Fasolis (conductor)

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- Wouter de Moor