''Was der Liebe wehe tut''—what causes pain to the lover, the last line of Brahms's Op. 57 No. 2—might almost be the theme of this discerningly chosen selection of Brahms songs, at least until the comparative resignation in some of the songs of Op. 96. Brahms was a master at expressing the pain of unrequited or rejected love, nowhere more so perhaps than in No. 6 of Op. 32, ''Du sprichtst, dass ist mich tauschte'', an outright masterpiece that I haven't encountered recently. Bar sings it with great feeling—but not with the inner anguish that I find in Fischer-Dieskau's reading, obviously deriving from long experience of life and interpretation, in the complete set of Brahms songs which came out on DG in 1983 for the 150th anniversary of the composer's birth (2740 279, 5/83—nla).
Inevitably one has to turn to Fischer-Dieskau in reviewing Bar's records, not in any way to diminish the younger baritone's work, but to indicate the marked contrasts in their approach and to remind ourselves of the older singer's achievement. Having said that, and without the need the critic has for constant comparison, you will assuredly find the new recital successful. One cannot be thankful enough for such consistently sustained legato, evenness of tone and sensitivity of enunciation. Time and again, in songs familiar and unfamiliar, Bar phrases with an unerringly correct response to words and music.
It is good that he is willing to sing the sets complete, or virtually so—he oddly omits ''Es traumte mir'' from Op. 57—and inquisitive enough to revive the early and very Schumannesque Op. 3 (Brahms actually sets some of the same poems, as for instance Eichendoff's ''In der Fremde''—the older composer wins that one). In Opp. 32 and 57, as I have suggested, he comes up against Fischer-Dieskau's quite different readings, and it is very much a matter of what you want from your Lieder companion. Take the penultimate song from Op. 32: Bar sings it with simple eloquence Fischer-Dieskau with a wider range of vocal colouring and verbal emphasis, turning it almost into a miniature aria.
There are one or two interesting differences as regards tempo. Bar, rightly in my opinion, doesn't linger too long over the famous ''Wie bist du, meine Konigin'', the last of Op. 32, thus avoiding any slide into sentimentality. By contrast in the first song of Op. 96, the great ''Der Tod, das ist die kuhle Nacht'', it is Bar—taking a minute longer over it—who sounds a bit gushy; and in any case Fischer-Dieskau again scores here with his overwhelming expression of weary melancholy, Brahms perceptively echoing Heine's verse. But enough of comparisons with an issue only ever available as a box and now deleted. Bar, accompanied throughout with dedication and point by Parsons, deserves to be heard on his own account, not least for the soft-grained beauty of his singing as such. The recording made in Dresden's Lukaskirche, is admirable in balance and presence, and the disc is generously filled.'