Fischer-Dieskau, The Most Influential Singer Of The 20th Century Died

Once described as "the most influential singer of the 20th Century", he was famed for his performances of Winter's Journey (Winterreise) by Schubert.

Born in Berlin in May 1925, he emerged as a performer after World War II and was swiftly recognised as one of his generation's finest lyrical vocalists.

Benjamin Britten personally asked him to perform in the first performance of his War Requiem in May 1962.

The premiere famously took place in the rebuilt Coventry Cathedral, which had been destroyed in a bombing raid in 1940.

"To my generation, he was something so special that one was always awestruck," the English mezzo-soprano Dame Janet Baker told Sean Rafferty on Radio 3's In Tune programme.

"One just bows before the artistry and the sheer beauty of the sound he made."

Fischer-Dieskau was most famous for his interpretations of lieder - German art songs written for solo voice and piano.

He performed them around the world, rescued many from obscurity, and made scores of recordings that became the benchmark against which other singers' interpretations were judged.

Klaus Staeck, president of the German Academy of Arts, said his contribution to the German art song was "phenomenal".

Mr. Fischer-Dieskau (pronounced FEE-shur-DEES-cow) had sufficient power for the concert hall and for substantial roles in his parallel career as a star of European operahouses. But he was essentially a lyrical, introspective singer whose effect on listeners was not to nail them to their seat backs, but rather to draw them into the very heart of song.

The pianist Gerald Moore, who accompanied many great artists of the postwar decades, said Mr. Fischer-Dieskau had a flawless sense of rhythm and “one of the most remarkable voices in history — honeyed and suavely expressive.” Onstage he projected a masculine sensitivity informed by a cultivated upbringing and by dispiriting losses in World War II: the destruction of his family home, the death of his feeble brother in a Nazi institution, induction into the Wehrmacht when he had scarcely begun his voice studies at the Berlin Conservatory.

His performances eluded easy description. Where reviewers could get the essence of a Pavarotti appearance in a phrase (the glories of a true Italian tenor!), a Fischer-Dieskau recital was akin to a magic show, with seamless shifts in dynamics and infinite shadings of coloration and character.

Versatility was not the least of Mr. Fischer-Dieskau’s assets. He tackled everything from Papageno in “The Magic Flute” — who knew that a goofy bird catcher could have immaculate diction? — to heavier parts like Wotan in “Das Rheingold” and Wolfram in “Tannhäuser.” He recorded more than three dozen operatic roles, Italian as well as German, along with oratorios, Bach cantatas and works of many modern composers, including Benjamin Britten, whose “War Requiem” he sang at its premiere in 1962.

Mr. Fischer-Dieskau was married in 1949 to his sweetheart from his student days, the cellist Irmgard Poppen. They had three sons: Matthias, who became a stage designer;Martin, a conductor; and Manuel, a cellist. Ms. Poppen did not live to see them grow: she died of complications after Manuel’s birth in 1963. For her husband it was a profound, disorienting loss.

He was married again, to the actress Ruth Leuwerik, from 1965 to 1967, and again, to Christina Pugel-Schule, the daughter of an American voice teacher, from 1968 to 1975.

His fourth marriage, to Ms. Varady, the Hungarian soprano, in 1977, was a rewarding match. Like the many artists who studied with him more formally, Ms. Varady found him to be a kindly, constructive and totally unsparing mentor.

Of the many tributes he received over the decades, perhaps none was more heartfelt than that of the British music critic John Amis:

“Providence gives to some singers a beautiful voice, to some musical artistry, to some (let us face it) neither, but to Fischer-Dieskau Providence has given both. The result is a miracle, and that is just about all there is to be said about it.”

Mr. Amis continued, “Having used a few superlatives and described the program, there is nothing else to do but write ‘finis,’ go home, and thank one’s stars for having had the good luck to be present.”