What can one say afresh in summing up the achievements of this superlative artist? Best perhaps to quote her coeval Schwarzkopf's generous words from the booklet of this issue: ''All of us envied her, because what we had to achieve laboriously worked for her so naturally and as a matter of course, because she knew how to sing with her heart.'' To that one might just add that there is something plangent, sorrowful in her tone that pierces the heart whenever one hears it afresh. Unlike the DG reissue I recently reviewed (see 1 July's issue), all these performances are taken live from a single recital (devoted entirely to Goethe settings), a singer caught at the peak of her powers at a Salzburg recital of 1957. Listen to just four examples of her art and you will know all, the repeat of ''Trocknet nicht'' in Beethoven's Wonne der Wehmut, the first line of Schumann's ineffably beautiful and touching Lied der Suleika or the erotic close to Schubert's ''Was bedeutet die Bewegung'' (Suleika I) or the start of Wolf s ''So lass mich scheinen'' (Mignon III). Here caught on the wing is the kind of sincere, innig singing that can't be learnt: it is instinctive. But, of course, that is not the end of it.
Seefried knew as well as anyone that essential in Lieder performance: how to shape a song from start to finish in speeds that never ever drag (successors, please copy), evident throughout this arresting recital, but most particularly in Wolfs Mignon, ''Kennst du das Land?'' (the intensity evinced here not equalled even by Schwarzkopf herself—how searing are the repeated cries of ''Kennst du es wohl?'') and Gretchen am Spinnrade, which—probably because this is a real event and not a studio invention—has a cumulative, riveting effect that I have seldom if ever heard matched; eternal longing expressed in simple yet overwhelmingly poignant diction and expression—slight signs of strain at the top here wholly appropriate.
Then there is the Susanna-Seefried, mistress of lighter, seductive things as heard here in that wistful, airy piece, Wolf s Die Bekehrte, and the delicate account of Mozart's Das Veilchen. We are given the recital unedited except for the excision of some applause. Thus endearingly we hear a Heidenroslein where the singer 'dries', makes an amusing apology and starts again. Then in the encores we encounter the Seefried of pure tone and line, of ethereal, spiritual serenity in Im Fruhling and Ave Maria. Erik Werba was the perfect pianist for this singer. In spite of all the excellent Lieder discs released this year, if you had to choose just one, make it this enchanting and unforgettable recital, worth every penny even at full price. Don't miss it.'