Thomas Quasthoff, Barbican

It is probably fair to say that the concert hall at the Barbican Centre isn’t one of London’s most intimate spaces. It’s not the sort of place that would put one immediately in mind of, say, a drawing room – in fact, to do so requires a particular willingness to suspend one’s disbelief. Tonight, Thomas Quasthoff and friends endeavoured to make us do just that, and got within a hair’s breadth of pulling it off.

This is the last in a series of five concerts that Quasthoff has programmed at the Barbican. Entitled Die Stimme (also the title of his autobiography), the series has included music by Bach, Handel, Haydn, Berlioz and, today, three song cycles by Schumann. The first four concerts have all been with orchestra; this last affair was an attempt to be more intimate, a sort of cosy, let’s-gather-round-the-piano soirée.

Schumann wrote the Spanisches Liederspiel, the Minnespiel and the Spanische Liebeslieder cycles in 1849, during a period of great creativity, despite a good deal of unrest in Germany at the time, not to say his own personal trials. They are, perhaps, a hark back to the extraordinary Liederjahr of 1840 that gave us Liederkreis, Myrthen, the Lieder und Gesänge, Frauenlieben und -leben and Dichterliebe among others. The later cycles are true domestic works: there is little of the overtly virtuosic in them, they are perfect in length for a short evening’s entertainment, they cover a pleasant and not overly demanding range of subjects, and there’s something for every voice part, so your friends can join in.

In this case, Quasthoff’s friends were Dorothea Röschmann, Angelika Kirchschlager and Ian Bostridge, with Helmut Deutsch and Julius Drake at the piano. Quite a gathering, I hear you cry, and as it happened a pleasingly diverse one too. The Spanisches Liederspiel began with a sassy spring in its step from Röschmann and Kirchschlager: two coy sisters describing a first encounter with a young man. Röschmann’s voice was elegant and refined; Kirchschlager sang with more freedom and openness, and the two complemented each other beautifully. We got a similar blend in the next song: Intermezzo, with the easy vocals of Quasthoff gently meandering under the rather more manicured tones of Bostridge.

You can see why the rather old-fashioned idea of the Liederspiel appealed to Schumann - in his hands it becomes a delightfully varied tool. The oh-so-aching In der Nacht (which was one of the few disappointments: Röschmann and Bostridge could not quite create the still, sustained quality the melodies demand) is followed by the mischevious quartet Es ist verraten. The passionate tenor solo Geständnis is followed by the gossipy bolero of Botschaft. In short, there is plenty to please.

At times, the Schumann family must have welcomed the distraction. Minneslied was written soon after the family had escaped a revolution on the streets of Dresden and, with that in mind, is surprisingly cheery. Again, in many of the songs there is a beautiful, and deceptive, simplicity. Kirchschlager and Quasthoff – for me the pick of the singers – joined forces for the delicate Ich bin dein Baum, so free and easily sung it sounded like they could have been out among the trees themselves. The central moment of this cycle is the glorious Mein schöner Stern. Rückert’s words and Schumann’s gently insisting music are a perfect combination, and Bostridge sang it simply and straight, letting poet and composer do the talking.

The Spanisches Liebeslieder have a piano duet accompaniment, and a jolly little piano introduction to set the scene. Quasthoff performed his only solo song, the genial Flutenreicher Ebro, with a pleasingly light touch. Kirchschlager and Röschmann added a dash of Spanish spice, pouting sulkily at Bostridge as he gave us a petulant Weh, wir zornig ist das Mädchen, and practising their come-hither looks as Bostridge and Quasthoff played randy Spanish lads in Blaue Augen hat das Mädchen. At the end of the day, not even this group of friends could convince the audience that we were truly in a parlour or drawing room - but they got the rest pretty spot on.

Next at the Barbican: Kristjan Järvi conducts the London Symphony Orchestra in Grieg, MacMillan and Sibelius. Book tickets here.