Benjamin Appl

For Dieter: The past and the future

"He let poetry resound and music speak"

Draft by Franz Grillparzer for Schubert’s tombstone
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by Benjamin Appl

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An die Musik expresses my profound gratitude to Dieter Fischer-Dieskau for the many hours we shared: “Beloved art, for this I thank you!”

I first met Fischer-Dieskau in 2009, during a masterclass at the Schubertiade in Schwarzenberg. At the end of the session, he offered me the opportunity to study privately with him. From that moment, and until just a few weeks before his passing, I had the incredible fortune of working with him regularly at his homes in Berlin and Berg.

Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau was born in Berlin in 1925. His father, a schoolteacher, loved to compose—among other things, he wrote the Singspiel Sesenheim (Heidenröslein). His mother, who was denied the chance to pursue a singing career, ensured that her three sons—Klaus, Martin, and Dietrich—received a solid musical education. The eldest brother, Klaus, began composing at an early age, dedicating Nocturne to their mother and Wehmut to his brother. Dieter knew from the very beginning that he wanted to become a singer: the first Lied he studied was Wie bist du, meine Königin. Shortly before being drafted in 1944, he became engaged to Irmgard “Irmel” Poppen, who would become his wife. Torn from his homeland, he wrote many love letters, filled with longing and remembrance (Andenken) for his distant beloved.

In 1944, his younger brother Martin was murdered by the Nazis. During the early years of the war and his imprisonment in Italy, Dieter memorised countless musical pieces, while gradually learning of the atrocities committed by the National Socialist regime. Tenebrae by Reimann, composed for him, poignantly addresses the suffering of Jewish victims of the Holocaust.

His singing gave strength to thousands of fellow prisoners. Immediately after the end of the conflict, he also performed works from countries once considered enemies, such as Sylvelin by Sinding and Nur wer die Sehnsucht kennt by Tchaikovsky. His repertoire also embraced operetta (Ich bin nur ein armer Wandergesell). In 1947, he returned to Germany (Die Heimkehr) and began his international career in Berlin, where he quickly gained wide recognition (Vier ernste Gesänge).

Irmel gave him three children, but tragically died during the birth of the third (Süßes Begräbnis). As often happened in his life, music became the only path through grief (An mein Klavier). After this loss, Benjamin Britten dedicated to him the Songs and Proverbs of William Blake – “For Dieter: The past and the future” (Proverb III). Another deeply sorrowful moment was the death of his mother Theodora (Mutters Hände), to whom he was profoundly attached.

His private life in the years that followed was marked by instability: his marriage to actress Ruth Leuwerik (1965–1967), famous for the film Vater braucht eine Frau, was brief, as was his union with Kristina Pugell (1968–1975) (Liebhaber in allen Gestalten). In 1977, he married the soprano Julia Varady (Liebst du um Schönheit).

Throughout his life, Fischer-Dieskau received numerous commissions and took part in premières of great historical significance, including the moving first performance of Britten’s War Requiem in 1962, for which he also provided the German translation. Samuel Barber composed the three Lieder of Op. 45 specifically for him.

Teaching played a central role in his final decades. Demanding, rigorous, meticulous, he passed on his immense knowledge to his students. I fondly recall when he confided in me how much he appreciated my recording of Sterb’ ich, so hüllen in Blumen meine Glieder, to the point that he wished to personally mentor me. Among the many hours we spent together, I cherish above all the moments when, feeling unobserved, he allowed his wit to shine through and would playfully dance around the living room.

The last time I visited him was just a few weeks before his death, in May 2012. As I left his home, I had a clear sense that it might be the last time. I later wrote him a long letter, thanking him for all that we had shared, for all that I had learned. A few days later, I received the news of his passing.

This concert—and the accompanying recording—is both a personal and public tribute to an extraordinary artist. Dieter continues to inspire me, through the memories of our encounters and the vast legacy of his recordings. This moment offers the opportunity for us all to honour his immense legacy on the centenary of his birth.