The unforgotten

Half a century ago, on 17 September 1966, the unforgettable Fritz Wunderlich, Germany’s most vocally perfect young Mozart tenor, died after reputedly falling down a staircase in his home. It was a demise which, in its different way, reminded people of President Kennedy’s fate three years earlier  They said they would always remember what they were doing at the precise moment it happened.

I certainly could. I was standing in Stockholm railway station, phoning home on a nordic night after a performance at the Swedish festival, when the news was broadcast.  I shall not forget it.

In fact Wunderlich’s final appearance had been a fortnight earlier at the Edinburgh Festival, where with his customary sweetness he had sung at the Usher Hall. As festival programme editor at the time, I had been urgently phoned on the day of the recital to see if I had a copy of the Schubert songs that were to launch the programme.   His pianist, Hubert Giesen, had evidently left his own copy of the music at home and, on an Edinburgh Sunday in those days no music shops would be open.

I had the right songs and there was no problem. An hour or so later, from my seat in the hall, I could see Fiesen sitting at the keyboard, my copy of the music in front of him, methodically tearing out the relevant pages in readiness while Wunderlich stood waiting.  Happily they were returned to me later, so I was able to piece them together again.

Wunderlich, of course, sang exquisitely, without a hint of tension.  He had appeared as Ferrando in Mozart’s Cosi fan tutte with the Bavarian Opera at the King’s Theatre the previous year, and was already adored here.

I never thought that, at the age of 36, his life was almost over. Years later a German radio station rang me to interview me about the Schubert incident. I had not forgotten.
19 September 2016