In her recent survey of The Nineteenth Century German Lied (Amadeus Press: 1993), Lorraine Gorrell sees the later composers ''writing in a style that was highly suited to orchestral accompaniments'', often orchestrating their songs or thinking in orchestral colours even when confining themselves to the piano. We are aware of that with the three composers here. For the very first song, Der Rosenband, Strauss provided such an exquisitely orchestrated version that one hears the instruments even as the pianist plays. Berg's Seven Early Songs, the first dating from 1905-06, were scored by him with great care in 1928; and Korngold's songs have an orchestral sub-text implied throughout in the harmonic colouring which ranges from rich to lush. The surprising thing, in view of this, is how pianistic the accompaniments still are, and, as these performances make especially clear, how skilfully the tone-painting and creation of atmosphere are achieved within the restrictive intimate scope of the traditional Lied.
The chosen Strauss songs here are characteristically gentle and affectionate, a mood in which von Otter is often at her best. Not that, having captured a mood, she is content to let it lie dully over as much as a verse or a line. In Der Rosenband she is always sensitive to the modulations; in Ich trage meine Minne the voice darkens with the change of tonality in verse two; in Wie sollten wir geheim sie halten she captures the subdued excitement of the opening as she does the frank exultation of the close. Hat gesagt invites the comical country-girl characterization in which I find her style heavy-handed, the playful mood being more happily caught in Die sieben Siegel.
For lightness of touch, the Op. 38 songs endear themselves among the Korngold group: Gluckwunsch has an unaffected, comfortable way with it (a little adaptation could turn it neatly into Roger Quilter or even Jerome Kern), and Alt-spanisch (with its reminiscence of ''On yonder hill there stands a maiden'') is a charmer. In Op. 18 he seems to be rather self-consciously wearing his Viennese-school clothes, and the Sterbelied (a translation of Christina Rossetti's When I am dead, my dearest) seems in this very tender performance perhaps a shade too long drawn-out.
At the centre of the recital are the Seven Early Songs of Alban Berg. The first, ''Nacht'', which is also the longest and most readily memorable, is taken rather more slowly than usual, losing, I think, a little in cohesion (contrast the fine performance by Margaret Marshall and Geoffrey Parsons, also on DG), but gaining in its subtler evocations of the mists and then the silvered mountain paths. Von Otter's draining the voice of all vibrato also helps create the sense of watchful stillness, just as in the sixth song, ''Liebesode'', it makes for an almost other-worldly dreaminess, deepening to a full-bodied passion as the rose scent is borne to the love-bed. Always the mezzo-soprano voice is resourcefully used, able to colour deeply at such points, to float a pure head-tone in ''Traumgekront'' or launch a radiant high A in ''Die Nachtigall''. For both artists the record is a worthy successor to their Gramophone Award-winning DG Grieg recital of last year (6/93).'