Many artists have had lockdown projects, but few can have been as fundamental as Andreas Bauer Kanabas’s. As the German bass explains in a booklet note, the period saw him reconnect with Daniel Heide, his old accompanist from university, who encouraged him to take a break from the operatic roles of Wagner and Verdi to tackle the more intimate world of Schubert’s lieder.

The result is an unapologetically big and bold performance of Schwanengesang. And the collection is preceded by four other songs that very much set the tone: they feature lonely, loner protagonists, here imbued with even greater world-weary gravity by Bauer Kanabas’s big, gravelly voice and the low, sometimes almost sepulchral keys he and his pianist have chosen.

These are in many ways straightforward readings, and the bass is interpretatively not that light on his feet – changes of mood are not matched by the shifts in colour one hears from other singers – but there’s an integrity and honesty that’s difficult to resist. And while I initially felt that the lighter numbers in Schwanengesang were short on alertness, the cumulative effect of the collection is mightily impressive.

There’s much to enjoy in the Rellstab songs – a movingly turned ‘Ständchen’, for example – but as so often it’s the Heine settings that make the most lasting impression, helped by the fact that Bauer Kanabas reorders them to have ‘Ihr Bild’ and ‘Der Atlas’ at the end of the group. With superbly atmospheric accompaniments from Heide, the bass creates a powerful mini-drama out of each. ‘Am Meer’, with the pianist’s left hand diving deep into his instrument’s lower register, has an especially grim power to it. In ‘Der Doppelgänger’ one really feels the singer addressing his ghostly double, and ‘Der Atlas’ has a brute force that leaves one shaken.

Others have given us Schwanengesang with more light and shade and vocal variety, but Bauer Kanabas’s grand, imposing and moving approach is well worth hearing. Recommended.