Michael Raucheisen - Lieder and the Third Reich

Michael Raucheisen (1889-1984)

His father, by vocation a master-glazier, was organist, church choir leader and musical pedagogue. The musical development of his only son was so important to the family that they left the small town in which they lived.

From 1902 Raucheisen lived in Munich, and from 1920 until the end of his pianistic activity in 1958, in Berlin. He studied at the Munich High School for Music. Around 1906 he played first violin at the Prinzregententheater and was organist in St. Michael. In 1912 he founded the musical Matinees which have become famous.

From the beginning of the 1920s until the end of the Second World War he was song accompanist for many singers, including Frida Leider, Erna Berger, Hans Hotter, Elisabeth Schwarzkopf, Karl Schmitt-Walter, Karl Erb, Heinrich Schlusnus and Helge Rosvaenge, to mention only a few of the most prominent figures. As an innovation he played his accompaniments with the piano lid open, in order to obtain a better tonal balance between the voice and the instrument. In 1933 he married the soprano Maria Ivogün, following her divorce from Erb. From 1933 he strove to create a complete catalogue of German language songs on gramophone recordings, for which, from 1940, he became head of the department of Song and Chamber-music at the Berlin Rundfunk, for the organization of the studios there. After the War he was banned from his work for some years on account of his collaboration with the Nazi regime, and afterwards he appeared only occasionally in public. In 1958 after a very successful tour with Schwarzkopf, he returned to private life and moved with Ivogün to Switzerland. On the occasion of his 95th birthday he was granted the Free Citizenship of the town of Rain. He and his wife (who survived him by three years) are buried in the municipal cemetery of Rain.

These brief notes on Wikipedia do not do justice to the extraordinary career of Michael Rauchheisen, who was the ‘sole begetter’ of one of the most remarkable recording projects of the twentieth century. His aim to record not just ‘a complete catalogue of German language songs’ but all the significant ‘Lied der Welt’ might seem quixotic enough, but the fact that the bulk of this superhuman undertaking (as far as it was completed) took place during World War II, adds an extra degree of sinister complexity to an already mind-boggling enterprise.

Even though Raucheisen’s project fell far short of completion he needs to be congratulated on recording over a thousand songs with most of the prominent German singers of the day. The fact that none of these singers was Jewish is of course a bitter commentary on the time these recordings were made.

Another commentary is, of course, that provided by the singers who took part in these recordings. For the most part, they fail to mention the circumstances in which these recordings were produced. The main focus of their comments is Raucheisen’s working methods: he expected a singer to grasp the elements of any particular song very quickly and be prepared to record within the hour. His singers also attest to his kindness and encouragement. He was, it seems, an ideal accompanist, anticipating high standards and unfailingly supportive in achieving these.

But is it not grotesque that this extraordinary undertaking, a unique celebration of sublime creativity, took place at a time when Hitler’s vile regime was slaughtering jews in their millions, along with many homosexuals and the disabled? How did Raucheisen and his singers feel about this; what did they think about it? Could they bring themselves to acknowledge the grotesque irony that juxtaposed the gas chambers of Auschwitz with the lieder of Franz Schubert? On this subject, the vast majority of the artists involved in the ‘Lied der Welt’ project are silent. Hans Hotter, who, as far as we can tell, despised Hitler, and only stayed in Germany because of his family obligations, spoke of the need for ‘inner emigration’, and how ‘We were glad to have the opportunity to get away from politics and concern ourselves only with art.’ This blinkered attitude might seem unforgivable in hindsight, but it was, of course, hardly unique. Christoph Zimmermann in his booklet notes for the Acanta LP edition of these recordings says that ‘Those fortunate enough not to have had to experience this predicament really have no right to criticise it.’ Well, perhaps, but probably more will sympathise with his opinion that ’For many in those days art was simply an aid to survival.’

After the War several of the singers involved established major international careers, but Raucheisen himself, seen by the Allies as something of a figurehead for Nazi musical culture, was forced into semi-retirement. He went on a successful European tour with Elisabeth Schwarzkopf in 1958 but otherwise maintained a relatively low profile for the rest of his very long life.

Now that Raucheisen and his colleagues are all long dead it is perhaps more profitable to focus on the positive artistic aspects of ‘Lied der Welt’ particularly as these are often very impressive. The singers involved are a Who’s Who of the prominent (mainly) German singers of the day, with the exception of those who were Jewish, many of whom had already left their homeland for the USA and the UK. Prominent among the sopranos are Erna Berger, Frieda Leider, Tiana Lemnitz and Elizabeth Retberg, along with the young Elisabeth Schwarzkopf. Altos include Emmi Leisner, Margarete Klose and Elisabeth Hongen, while some of the tenors were Julius Patzak, Karl Erb, Helge Rosvaenger, Peter Anders and Walter Ludwig. But it is the baritones and basses who form the most formidable group, with the young Hans Hotter (in superb voice) getting the lion’s share of the work along with his contemporary Josef Greindl. Others in this select company include Wilhelm Strienz, Herbert Alsen, Kurt Boeme, Willi Domgraf-Fassbaender, Paul Schoffler, Heinrich Schlusnus, Hans-Herman Nissen, and Hans-Heinz Nissen (who, curiously, were not related). While most of the singing (particularly female) sounds rather old-fashioned to modern ears, the general beauty of tone, unforced resonance and vivid interpretation leave an indelible impression. This is a real treasure trove of vocal artistry and excellence.

The repertoire is wide-ranging but almost exclusively Austro-German (the Norwegian Edvard Grieg being a notable exception). Given that the project has the name ‘Lied der Welt’ (Song of the World) one wonders how much of the rest of the world’s songs Raucheisen and his team might have investigated in different circumstances. My guess would be, not many. As it stands, songs by non-German composers are still mainly sung in German, a notable exception being Erna Berger with some charming Debussy and Handel’s ‘O sleep, why dost though leave me?’

Having said that, Raucheisen comes up with some unexpected choices. The full list of Austro-German composers recorded in this project is:

Handel, Haydn, Mozart, Gluck, Beethoven, Schubert, Loewe, Schumann, Brahms, Marschner, Mendelssohn, Cornelius, Humperdinck, Nicolai, Weber, Franz, Wolf, Jensen, Pfitzner, Reger, Strauss J, Strauss R, Zilcher, Trunk, and Blech.

There is also a handful of songs by Rameau, Rossini, Verdi, Sammartini, Busoni, Kilpinen, Debussy, and Rachmaninov, in addition to a generous selection of Grieg.

Carl Loewe (1796-1869) is the composer most represented, with 101 songs (which is still less than a quarter of his total output). At a generous estimate, no more than twenty of his lieder have found a secure place in the repertoire, even in Germany, and a more realistic estimate would be nearer ten. Loewe’s greatest hits might be said to include:

Erlkonig, Odins Meeresritt, Edward, Herr Oluf, Tom der Reimer, Der Nock, Prinz Eugen, Die Uhr, Heinrich der Vogler, Archibald Douglas, Die Verfallene Muhle, and Der Gefangene Admiral.

Listening to the 101 songs in the Raucheisen archive proved quite arduous. Loewe liked setting traditional ballads and he seems duty bound to set all the verses in even the longest of these, so that a deadly monotony creeps in. Having said this, his finest ballad settings (‘Erlkonig’, ‘Edward’, ‘Odins Meeresritt’ and others mentioned above) are magnificent. Perversely, 'Erlkonig', preferred by Wagner to Schubert’s more famous setting, is not included in the 101 songs, but it is readily available elsewhere. My trawl through Loewe’s many opus numbers threw up two items previously unknown to me which I can recommend, in addition to my list above; ‘Die Blumen Rache’ (The Flowers’ Revenge) a very spooky number about a beautiful girl poisoned by her flowers’ perfume and ‘Der Zahn’ (The Tooth) a cutesy little ditty about a baby’s first tooth. It is actually very sweet, just try to forget that the singer (eminent Wagnerian baritone Rudolf Bockelmann) was an enthusiastic supporter of Nazi ideology. Another welcome discovery is ‘Die Nachtlicher Heerschau’ (‘Nocturnal Roll-call’) a precursor of Mahler’s macabre ‘night songs’, vividly realised by Josef Greindl, who does sterling work in a wide range of Loewe lieder. Wilhelm Strienz, another Nazi sympathiser, uses his black bass to thrilling effect in ‘Edward’, while Hans Hotter is superb in ‘Odins Meeresritt’.

Before leaving this brief survey, I am grateful to Will Crutchfield for the following very helpful insights into the problems involved in the performance of Loewe’s songs. Commenting on the fact that most Loewe recitals are by basses and baritones, (Raucheisen uses lower male voices for about 75% of the songs he records), Crutchfield says:

The reason this is unsatisfactory has to do with the fact that many of Loewe’s best known songs were written to be sung by himself in concerts, and his voice was laid out on a plan that is no longer cultivated. The range in which he seems to have worked easily was from bass low G to tenor high A, more or less the compass of the 20th century high baritone, but with the difference that Loewe played lightly and freely with the highest portion for long stretches, relied on crisp, easy projection of declamatory material in the bottom part, and assumed an easy command of florid figuration throughout the range. One supposes him to have been something like the kind of low tenor or baritone with tenorial cultivation of the head voice that Rossini and others were writing for in opera at the time. (From: ‘Lieder on Record’ CUP ed. Alan Blyth).

That’s all for now. Next up, I’ll be considering Raucheisen and colleagues performing Hans Pfitzner.