Serenading Under the Window with Schubert's Serenade (Ständchen)
The Listen Guide
Ständchen ("Leise flehen meine Lieder"), No. 4 of Schwanengesang, D. 957
Welcome, I'm Franz Schubert, and this is your listen guide to my Serenade (Ständchen). Here you'll find out how the song brightens from D minor into D major just as the lover dares to hope, then sinks back into D minor, which is why it lingers. On this site my fellow composers and I also teach you to recognize our pieces when they play, so when you're ready, test yourself in the Trainer .
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Two Performers, One Long Night
Before you press play, here's all you need to know: there are only two performers, a singer and a piano. The piano plays the part of a guitar or mandolin, so listen to it as the soft strumming of someone who has come to sing outside a window at night. The singer is the young man himself, and I'd ask you to follow his voice as if he were speaking quietly so the neighbors don't wake up. You don't need to understand German, because the way his voice rises and falls will tell you when he's pleading, when he's hoping and when he's worried.Why I Called It a Serenade
The word Ständchen originally meant a song sung standing, which suits a man who stays outside in the dark and sings up toward a window. That's the scene in Ludwig Rellstab's poem, and since I gave titles to my individual songs myself, I chose the name that matched it. Don't let the title fool you, though, because a serenade sounds like something calm and pleasant, and this one is full of anxiety and longing. He sings at night, and neither he nor I can tell you how it will turn out.No Sonata, No Rondo, Just a Poem
Choosing the form was an adventure, because I looked at the usual shapes and none of them fit a man singing under a window. This isn't a sonata and it isn't a rondo, but a song shaped by the five stanzas of the poem. I rearranged those stanzas, set the third and fourth to the same music, and gave the last stanza music of its own. That leaves us with three sections, and I'll take you through them one by one as the key moves from D minor to D major and back to D minor.Section 1: Tiptoeing Up to the Window
The song opens with the piano's gentle strumming, and then the singer enters in D minor. That key gives the music a shadowy color from the very first phrase, so you feel the night before you've understood a single word. His voice is soft and urgent at the same time, as if he's afraid of being heard and even more afraid of not being heard. Notice how little the mood settles here, because this is the restless part of the song, and it sets up everything that follows.Section 2: A Curtain Opens a Crack
Now comes the music I gave to both the third and the fourth stanza, so you'll hear the same tune twice with different words. Here the voice moves into D major, as the poet allows himself to hope that he and his beloved might be united. The change is like a curtain opening just a little, and the light that falls through it feels warmer after all that darkness. Listen to how the repetition makes the hope sound sincere, though never entirely sure of itself.Section 3: Back Out Into the Dark
For the last stanza I wrote new music, so your ear gets something it hasn't heard before just as the song is nearing its end. It carries the feeling of the whole night into one last plea, and the voice sounds more intense for it. Then the song closes in D minor, the key where it began, so the hope of the middle never quite becomes an answer. That's the story the music tells: he comes, he hopes, and he is left standing there, still waiting.Your Turn to Press Play
Now it's your turn to hear it, so press play and let the music carry you along. While you listen, keep in mind the strumming piano, the move from D minor to D major and the return to the dark. If you ever come across a version without a singer, it may well be Liszt's arrangement for solo piano, which became the best known of the many ways people have played this song. I hope the journey moves you as much as it moved me when I wrote it.---
I hope you enjoyed learning about my Serenade (Ständchen) through this listen guide. I've told you only a part of what this song holds, because there's still plenty more to explore. You might listen again and follow how the piano keeps its soft strumming going while the singer moves from hesitant pleading into a brief, hopeful brightness. Then notice how the song settles back into D minor at the end, and ask yourself whether the young man was ever answered. I never tell you, and I like to think the question is part of the music. If you'd like to go further, please click on the links you'll find on this page and keep exploring Serenade (Ständchen) at your own pace.