While impressions can be deceptive, more often than not that very deceptiveness is significant. At a surface glance, Schubert’s Winterreise (D911) might appear to the imagination as a landscape in twenty-four monochrome studies with only the dark bark of the trees and a few black strokes, representing the crows perching on them, to contrast with the ubiquitous wintry white. Yet, on further inspection, one gradually perceives variations in shades and perspective, so that each part of the whole acquires definition and can be viewed separately. Aurally, one is struck by the unremitting bleakness and severity of the ensemble, which evokes a barren expanse where the flowers of melody seem unable to grow or, if they do, are soon condemned to wither. Sheer quantity is of consequence: twelve parts may be considered and recollected individually, but confronted with double that number, perception shifts towards a more global grasp of its object.