There appears to be a bumper crop of recordings of Schubert's valedictory song cycle, "Winterreise", what with baritone Matthias Goerne's release of the same material earlier this year. While bass-baritones are most known to tackle this program, this luckily doesn't prohibit a superb tenor like Ian Bostridge from conquering it, and he does so with a surprising edginess. I only know Bostridge from his rather callow presence on some recordings of late, such as Emmanuelle Haïm's stunning interpretation of Henry Purcell's opera "Dido and Aeneas" and a lovely though sometimes jarring version of Benjamin Britten's "The Canticles". This disc is nothing sort of a revelation. "Winterreise" is actually 24 inter-linked songs, which follow a Samuel Beckett-like wanderer as he tramps through the snowy countryside, his heart breaking from some recent romantic blowup. Darkly beautiful and unmistakably Schubert with its rolling piano interludes, this recording emerges as a heavily dramatic ghost story which makes death seem so insidious that it becomes irresistibly seductive.
Bostridge is thankfully not a showy singer, and with its even blend of dark and light hues, his mellifluous voice has the color and flexibility to make his singing sound as natural as conversation. He is particularly adept at communicating stark changes of mood, for instance, at the change from minor to major in "Gute Nacht" or the lightning-quick transition from the dream-like opening of "Frühlingstraum" to the desperate tone of the second verse. When need be, his voice soars with bitter anger and scales back to a fierce whisper as it does in "Erstarrung". Norwegian pianist Leif Andsnes proves to be up to the challenge of the program by melding the varying moods perfectly with Bostridge's vocals. For example, in the tender "Der Lindenbaum", Andsnes' shift from lilting delicacy to sepulchral gloom underscores the chasm between the happy past and anguished present as artfully as Bostridge's dreamy reveries and fiery declamation. But it is really the simplicity of approach by both performers, which allows the music and poems to speak for themselves. One would naturally assume this to be a weighty disc of doom and gloom, but I really find it quite enthralling, as Schubert's work really becomes a deeply involving portrait of a sensitive soul dealing with loss for the first time and becoming mortally wounded by the blow. This is a wonderfully unexpected recording of depth and beauty.