There is so much to admire in this thoughtfully prepared and executed and well-filled disc that I feel churlish in not giving it a wholehearted recommendation. Holl brings to his perceptive choice among Brahms's Lieder a full understanding of the import of the poems. He enunciates the text with the utmost care in accenting words and then places them on stream of warm bass-baritone tone. He brings the full weight of his voice to bear on grand pieces such as Auf dem Kirchhofe, plumbs the depths of feeling of Mondenschein and Meerfahrt, yet can also fine down his voluminous voice to the delicate half-voice called for by Feldeinsamkeit and Wiegenlied, find the lighter touch called for by Standchen and Botschaft. Finally he broaches the challenge of the Vier ernste Gesange with due recognition of their grave and often depressing message, most notably in ''Ich wandte mich'', arguably the greatest song Brahms ever wrote.
Holl is supported by Schiff's positive playing. The guitar is cheekily imitated in Standchen, the sea rages powerfully in Meerfahrt, the moon seems to peep out in his translucent playing of An die Nachtigall and he easily realizes the quasi-orchestral demands of the Ernste Gesange. The recording is right up to the high standard of the Decca team in Vienna led by Christopher Raeburn that we've enjoyed in the Schreier/Schiff discs. So where do the reservations occur? For the most part they concern tempos. Brahms's songs are slow-moving and often lugubrious enough without those characteristics being emphasized by over-deliberate speeds, especially when a low voice is involved.
For instance, the flow of O wusst' ich doch den Weg zuruck is impeded at the chosen speed, as it is in Sommerabend. If you compare this pair's account of Mondenschein with that of Fischer-Dieskau and Moore on Orfeo or Hotter and Moore (EMI) you'll hear how, at a faster tempo, the older artists prevent the song becoming marooned. At the pace chosen by Holl and Schiff, the great Der Tod, das ist die kuhle Nacht seems a trifle studied if you compare the middle section of ''Wenn ich mit Menschen'' in the Ernste Gesange with the versions of Hotter (EMI) or Kipnis (Music & Arts and Preiser) you'll judge that the newcomers, beside them, sound self-indulgent. A smaller criticism concerns Holl's occasional habit of sliding into long held notes from below.
Despite these reservations this is a more than worthwhile addition to the all-too-small representation of Brahms Lieder in the current catalogue—though if it's the best version of the Ernste Gesange you want I would stay with Hotter or Kipnis.'