Coupling Ullmann and Schoenberg makes sense. Even in the desperate conditions of the concentration camp Theresienstadt, where his Rilke setting was composed, Ullmann followed a more recognizably German compositional path than his fellow internees. His teacher's work was the yardstick against which he would have gauged his own development. Listening to the Variations in conjunction with Die Weise von Liebe und Tod des Cornets Christoph Rilke (also set by Frank Martin – see page 141) one is aware of a simplification of technique and expression not solely attributable to the practical constraints of Ullmann's last years. But then he was never a slavish Schoenbergian: the Variations begin with an artfully academic inversion of the theme, extend its possibilities in a language that owes more to Berg and take a quasi-Hindemithian line in the rhetorical counterpoint of the fugue. Whether such calculated elaboration and stylistic variety actually misses the point of Schoenberg's freely associative atonality is a moot point. There were originally five variations, the five extending to nine by the time the work was published as Op. 3a, in which guise it appears here. Israel Yinon includes the subsequent orchestral arrangement (Op. 5) in his valuable, purely orchestral Ullmann collection (Bayer, 10/94). In either form, the music was recognized as a major artistic statement by contemporary critics. Herzfeld gives what seems to be an accurate, often bravura performance, whereas his Schoenberg Op. 19 pieces (the source of Ullmann's theme) lack a certain tension, the sound itself rather too soft-grained. Competition in this repertoire is fierce.
Ullmann's setting of 12 extracts from Rilke's novella is a quirky but compelling assertion of self against insurmountable odds. The problem of integrating speech and music into a unified whole is not so much solved as avoided, in favour of a series of vignettes depicting stages in the protagonist's journey towards a mythical future. Simple leitmotivic fragments provide overall coherence, although the text's evocative qualities are inevitably cramped by the two-dimensional effect of the medium: Ullmann did not live to complete an orchestral version. When performed with this degree of conviction, Die Weise von Liebe und Tod des Cornets Christoph Rilke is more than a historical curiosity, even if Ullmann cannot match the ironic force that Schoenberg draws from Lord Byron's withering 'tribute'. The present performance of the Ode to Napoleon lacks the flexibility and elan one expects to hear in the English language original (Thomas Allen's recitation on Virgin is more mellifluous than most) but Hermann makes a solid case for Schoenberg's own (unpublished) German translation. The players capture the intricacy, if not always the immediacy, of the instrumental commentary – the recording is spacious but could be better focused.
An uneven disc then, but definitely one of the more interesting Ullmann offerings to date. While the copious English texts are occasionally unidiomatic, the standard of presentation is high and the recordings never less than good in terms of technical quality. Incidentally, I don't think we should be too worried that parts of the main work were recycled from a never-completed fourth string quartet or that Der Kaiser von Atlantis almost certainly re-uses material from a lost Symphonic Fantasy of 1925. Many composers have worked in this fashion, albeit in very different circumstances. Such music can – and ultimately must – stand on its own feet. There are many reasons why Ullmann will never be easy listening but Edition Abseits should be congratulated for giving us the chance to make the critical assessments for ourselves.'