Saturday, 9 September 2017

Demon Dalmations !


Demon Dalmations ! Simon Rattle on the LSO season opener, The Damnation of Faust.

"“Every musician of my generation learnt about Berlioz from the LSO’s recordings with Colin Davis,” he says. “I remember being completely bowled over by their performance of orchestral extracts from Faust when I was about eight, and my sister quietly saying to me, ‘Actually, Simon, it’s the damnation of Faust, not the dalmatian.’ I’d assumed it was a story about a dog.”

(from an interview with the Times)


Friday, 8 September 2017

Shattering power - Mahler 6 Prom Daniel Harding, Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra


Prom 72, Mahler Symphony no 6 with the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra, Daniel Harding conducting - an incandescent experience, igniting with such force that it seemed to sear itself into the soul.  Mahler himself said that the symphony "would pose riddles only to be solved by a generation which has assimilated and digested my first five symphonies". What might these riddles be?  This symphony causes controversy, much of it supposition and hearsay. Why the tag "Tragic"? Was Mahler really so superstitious that he thought a hammer blow might end his life. And the movement order - even if you know nothing else about the symphony you can sound smart screaming SA/AS.   So all the more reason we need to approach Mahler's Sixth on musical terms and value genuine insight.

The Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra are outstanding, and their playing on this occasion seemed truly inspired.  Daniel Harding's Mahler credentials go back to his teens, when he was appointed by Claudio Abbado as his assistant and gave him Mahler's symphony no 10 to work on. A very wise move. Harding digested more than the first five symphonies. He assimiliated Mahler's output from beginning to end.  Moreover, with the Tenth there was then no received performance tradition: Harding had to find his own, original way. The Tenth is also a good way to start because it's unfinished: thinking in terms of open-ended possibility often stimulates insight.   Abbado was more than a great musician : he understood life. 

Harding has worked with the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra for many years.  He conducted the Tenth with the orchestra, a recording that still stands as a benchmark (though I rate even higher his later version with the Berliner Philharmoniker).   He's conducted Mahler's 6th several times, including with Berlin, but this performance with the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra was even better still: free spirited and seemingly spontaneous, often a sign that conductor and orchestra spark the best in each other.   They repeat their Mahler Symphony no 6 at KKL Lucerne later  this week in a hall whose acoustic picks up more detail than the Royal Albert Hall ever could.

The first movement, marked Allegro energetico, blazed from the start. Harding's attack was bracing, for the energyn here represents a battle, a battle for life against the inevitable march of time. Decisiveness matters on a battlefield: trust your instincts and don't flaff about.   The March rhythms were clearly defined, drum rolls and timpani done not so much with military precision as with a passionate sense of elation. The orchestra, like the protagonist,  relishes challenge.  Thus the flow between ferociousness and warmth.  Bright, lively textures in the strings livening the golden richness this orchestra does so well, contrasting well with the chill that creeps into the strings as the symphony progresses.  As so often in Mahler. the quiet moments are the most telling. The woodwind melody rose seductively, suggesting confident self-awareness. The cowbells connect to this theme because they're meant to be heard from a distance. They're elusive, the way that ideals are elusive. They may evoke memories of summers past, but quite possibly they are more than that. Cowbells reassure a farmer that his cows are not lost, even when they're beyond sight.  Interpretively, very significant.  When the march returned, the beat was quieter but with more frenzy in the strings and brass, the sense of impending horror felt almost overwhelming. But Mahler's little hints already indicate that something positive may survive after annihilation.

The Andante was exquisite: the benefits of an orchestra as good as the Viennese where every section is strong. The melody in the strings was so beautifully done it felt almost painful, but it should, for loss means more when what is lost was worth having. Yet the faint suggestion of dance implies circular movement - cycles of change. Consider the Auferstehn in Symphony no 2 and the Abschied in Das Lied von der Erde.  Whatever the "Alma" motif represents, it embodies the idea of an entity finding its own path.  Trombones and bassoons created a grotesque parody of dance, marking the return of the march.   Striking decelerating diminuendo and the woodwind line, escaping as if on tip toe.  A Scherzo that was magnificently wild - demonic by turns, yet spookiest when hushed, the brass muffled and sinister. When the Scherzo precedes the Andante, the effect is exhausting and works well with interpretations that place the symphony as a precursor of the agony of the 20th century, and so on. Andante first places more on the personal and on the connections with Mahler's metaphysics of life and rebirth.  If the answer was easy, there wouldn't be a debate. The current edition, sponsoreed by Reinhold Kubik of the Internationale Gustav Mahler Gesellschaft states Andante first, the way Mahler performed it. 

Perhaps the clue to Mahler's "riddle" lies in the Finale?  The tuba broods ominously, bassoons call, but trumpets, as ever, lead forward, and harps create an image of heaven , either angels or the last movement of Symphony no 4.  The March resumes, Harding leading his forces full forward.  But the strings of the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra glowed  and the celesta added magic. The sound swelled, as expansive as the peaks of the Salzkammergut.  The size and variety in the orchestra is relevant, since large forces can melt into chaos unless purposefully managed.  To paraphrase Mahler, "an orchestra encompasses the world". Good minds, and good conductors, lead us ahead. 

Perhaps what Mahler is depicting here is a universal horizon, a panorama so great that it transcends the world.  So often I've written about what mountains symbolize in Mahler - journeys made in struggle, rewarded by peaks from which one might imagine heaven, or the glory of life itself.  In Mahler's Symphony no 3 the  craggy terrain becomes spiritual, the Finale ending with a glorious vision of endless possibilities.  In Harding's Mahler 6 with the Vienna Philharmonic, the Finale was exhilarating - wildness and ecstasy alternating, masterfully defined. The mood grew ominous, even cold, But does the hammer blow mean death or is it a way of saying "No! " to something ? From what we know of Mahler the man, he was rational not superstitious, though some of those around him were pretty gullible.  That final, catastrophic crash - with no hammer blow - was so powerful that  it knocked the audience breathless.  In many ways, it's more terrifying "not" to have simple solutions. Whatever happens next, we cannot know, but Mahler (via Harding and the VPO) made us pay attention.  Six thousand people clapped and stamped their feet in applause..

Photos: Roger Thomas

Thursday, 7 September 2017

Jurowski's Pillars : Stravinsky, Shostakovich, Britten Prom




Stravinsky and Shostakovich with Vladimir Jurowski and the London Philharmonic Orchestra. This Prom was typical of Jurowski's genius for intelligent, musically astute programming : Stravinsky's Funeral Song at one end, and Shostakovich Symphony no 11, two pillars,  with Britten's Russian Funeral as supporting buttress, with Prokofiev's Violin Concerto no 1 in D between them. When even Vladimir Putin worries about planetary catastrophe we should need to think how and why we got into a world where some people admire nutcases with nukes.

Stravinsky's Funeral Song was revealed in December last year in St Petersburg, where it had lain undiscovered for over 100 years.  For more background and its significance, please read my article Lost No More : Stravinsky Funeral Song.  Gergiev conducted that performance in a superlative programme connecting Stravinsky with Nicolai Rimsky-Korsakov, whose funeral it marked. These connections are important, because the piece on its own is so short that its impact won't be appreciated out of context.  Gergiev linked it to Rimsky-Korsakov The Legend of the Invisible City of Kitezh and to Stravinsky's The Firebird, a wonderfully unified concept, which Jurowski is doing too at the Royal Festival Hall in February 2018, in a slightly different programme. Mark your calendars.   Combining Stravinsky and Rimsky-Korsakov is musically litterate and satisfying, but for this performance, Jurowski had to fulfil the rigid Proms diktats about dates and nationalism.

Before the Shostakovich symphony, though, Jurowski programmed Benjamin Britten's Russian Funeral (1936), which sets the hymn "You fell as Heroes" commemorating the massacres of the protesters of 1905, which Shostakovich was to incorporate into his Eleventh Symphony in 1957. Earlier this Proms season, we heard Britten's Ballad of Heroes, which has long been misunderstood because listeners can't get past the idea that being anti-war doesn't preclude protest in other forms. The ballad was written after the Spanish Civil War - it's not a call to battle, but a mark of respect for those killed and a protest against oppression. Please read my piece on it HERE.   Hearing Britten before Shostakovich in this context emphasizes the idea of universal struggle against oppression, wherever it might happen, or when. 

 Stravinsky's Funeral Song is about one man and highly personal, while Shostakovich's Symphony no 11 marks the death of multitudes. In 1905, people were massacred on the streets of St Petersburg. Twelve years later, the Tsar was overthrown for good.  Thus the scale of the piece, which not only marks the deaths of 1905, but also the end of Old Russia and the beginning of the New.  Thus the mute stillness of the First Movement "In the Square of the Winter Palace" with its ominous rumblings, and trumpet calls, which gave way to the the more abstract "soaring" theme, rising above the frozen ground, so to speak, as tension gradually rose with percussion defining a  staccato growl.  . Perhaps we can imagine the walls of the palace looming in the solid rising figures but these could also symbolize impenetrable forces of repression.Against these, the winds of change  blow when the strings fly into action, screaming in swirling, wayward lines.   Jurowski's sense of form keeps the scene in sharp definition.

Jurowski conducted with military precision,  contrasting the violence of the attack and the chaos it sliced through.  Thus the eerie silence from which the Funeral Elegy emerged : people are lying dead, but their voices will be heard above.  If anything, Jurowski's control was even more impressive here, allowing the strings and winds to wail, without compromising into insincere sentiment.  Utterly justifying  the connection between this symphony and Stravinsky's Funeral Song.  A magnificent finale, where the angular repetitions march forwards with ferocity.  Though Jurowski, by  nature, is a gentle person, he can be intensely passionate when he needs to be, as truly spiritual people often are.  Where once the soldiers marched on the people, the people now march forth in triumph.  Fanfares can be banal, but Jurowski's clear minded intelligence doesn't degenerate.  The heart of this finale isn't the noise, but the quiet cor anglais and bass clarinet themes. Eventually the Elegy returned, the tocsin bells tolling  clearly above the tumult.  the music breaks off suddenly - the struggle isn't over.  La lutte continua ! everywhere and at all times. Including the present.  

Between the two pillars and supporting buttress of Jurowski's programme, Stravinsky's arrangement of Song of the Volga Boatmen and Prokofiev: Violin Concerto No 1 in D with  Alina Ibragimova, ratherb diluting the overall impact, but that's the Proms for you.

Wednesday, 6 September 2017

Crossed wires? Proms downgrade the Vienna Philharmonic


The Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra at the Proms ought to be top priority. One of the greatest orchestras in the world, and in Mahler, too,  with Daniel Harding , one of the most interesting conductors around.  So why has the BBC Proms Team shunted it aside by a whole hour to accommodate "The 2017 Winning poems inspired by Music in the Proms " ???  Strange priorities - not music. It's not even "about" poetry, which springs from inspired source but a game show - audience participation exploited to boost some management nerd's marketing targets. With all respect to those taking part, there is a world of difference between writing a poem about a  Prom and actually listening to music. Game show tactics to get people to listen to music? Top flight poetry, maybe but game  show spin-off?  Further evidence of the way BBC management downgrades music.  Why not put the poetry show at 630, so the music audience don't miss out if they turn up at 730 ?  Or put Andras Schiff at 845 instead of 930 so music lovers can attend both Proms, and still catch the bus home?

For years now, there's been no music on BBC Radio 3 after 10 pm, as if music people go to bed early.  Nuts ! By definition, concert goers are nightbirds. It;'s what we do.  Some of the most interesting music on BBC R3 is late night broadcast, which fortunately we can access anytime online. Now the BBC's talking about taking "slow radio" to a "new level"  Please read Catherine Bennett "Slow radio is a silly idea"one of the sharpest pieces Guardian culture's done in years   Analytical thinking, instead of the pap that passes for journalism these days. 

Sure, life is too frantic, but mindless vacuousness is not the answer. I loved Aldeburgh's Messiaen bird marathon last year  but that at least had a point. "Slow radio" as envisaged by BBC Radio 3 is mindless corporate muddlespeak taken to a new level   Ambient sound recordings do exist (I have some from my New Age years) but they're pointless unless you choose to listen, when you can't do stuff in the real world.  In any  case, good serious music can transport you to another plane very effectively indeed. Maybe BBC Radio 3 people should try it sometime, instead of chasing gimmicks and marketing fallacies. But after this year's Proms, I suspect that, while some at the BBC Proms Team like music, some at BBC Radio 3 do not. 

Rappelle-toi Barbara ?

Window rain

Rappelle-toi Barbara ? 
Il pleuvait sans cesse sur Brest ce jour-là 
Et tu marchais souriante 
Épanouie ravie ruisselante 
Sous la pluie 
Rappelle-toi Barbara Il pleuvait sans cesse sur Brest 
Et je t'ai croisée rue de Siam 
Tu souriais 
Et moi je souriais de même 
Rappelle-toi Barbara 
Toi que je ne connaissais pas
Toi qui ne me connaissais pas 
Rappelle-toi Rappelle-toi quand même jour-là 
N'oublie pas
Un homme sous un porche s'abritait 
Et il a crié ton nom Barbara
Et tu as couru vers lui sous la pluie Ruisselante ravie épanouie
Et tu t'es jetée dans ses bras 

Rappelle-toi cela Barbara 
Et ne m'en veux pas si je te tutoie Je dis tu à tous ceux que j'aime 
Même si je ne les ai vus qu'une seule fois Je dis tu à tous ceux qui s'aiment 
Même si je ne les connais pas Rappelle-toi Barbara
N'oublie pas Cette pluie sage et heureuse 
Sur ton visage heureux Sur cette ville heureuse 
Cette pluie sur la mer
Sur l'arsenal 
Sur le bateau d'Ouessant
Oh Barbara 

Quelle connerie la guerre 
Qu'es-tu devenue maintenant 
Sous cette pluie de fer 
De feu d'acier de sang 
Et celui qui te serrait dans ses bras 
Amoureusement Est-il mort disparu ou bien encore vivant 
Oh Barbara 

Il pleut sans cesse sur Brest 
Comme il pleuvait avant
Mais ce n'est plus pareil et tout est abimé 
C'est une pluie de deuil terrible et désolée 
Ce n'est même plus l'orage 
De fer d'acier de sang 

Tout simplement des nuages 
Qui crèvent comme des chiens
Des chiens qui disparaissent 
Au fil de l'eau sur Brest
Et vont pourrir au loin 
Au loin très loin de Brest
 Dont il ne reste rien. 

Poem : Jacques Prévert, set by Joseph Kosma

( Do you remember, Barbara, how it didn't stop raining that day in Brest.  You were smiling radiantly, sunshine flowing from you, despite the rain.  I walked across the Rue du Siam, you smiled, and I smiled back. You whom I didn't know.  And on that same day, there was a man sheltering under a porch. He called your name "Barbara" and you ran towards him in the rain, glowing with joy and threw yourself into his arms.  I use the term "tu" (tutoyer)  though we've never even met.  I say that to those I care about even if I don't know them. Don't forget that wise and happy rain on your face in that happy moment, that rain by the sea by the arsenal, and the boat from Ouessant (in Brittany)

What did you know of the war that has come on us now,  when the rain pounds like gunfire of blood and steel, and he who held you lovingly in his arms - is he dead, missing or still alive ? It still rains non stop in Brest, like before, but it's not the same. Everything has changed. it's an abyss. It's the rain of a terrible, desolated shroud.  Not even the storm of steel and blood. Only the clouds, like roaming dogs, dogs who will disappear in that torrent pouring down on Brest, and will disperse in the distance, very far from Brest, of which nothing remains.) 

Clip below from the CD Joseph Kosma Chansons with Francois Le Roux and Jeff Cohen Decca 2000, reissued in 2016. Prevert and Kosma collaborated many times in art film - Les Enfants du Paradis, no less.  Kosma studied with Hanns Eisler, hence his interest in intelligent music for film, and art song.

Monday, 4 September 2017

Prokofiev's Cantata for the Twentieth Anniversary of the October Revolution - Gergiev Prom


Sergei Prokofiev's  Cantata for the Twentieth Anniversary of the October Revolution, Op 74,  with Valery Gergiev conducting the Mariinsky Orchestra and Chorus. One Day That Shook the World to borrow the subtitle from Sergei Eisenstein's epic film October : Ten Days that Shook the World.  Prokofiev's Cantata was dynamite in many ways. It's an explosion of sound so overwhelming that it needs to be detonated in a performance space as vast as the Royal Albert Hall for full effect. It was also dynamite  because it was modern in musical terms, while purporting to celebrate increasingly regressive Soviet values.  For a while, the Revolution espoused progressive ideas like futurism and modern art,  Eisenstein was probably able to get away with radical innovation ten years after 1917. Twenty years later, Prokofiev was not so lucky. His Cantata was suppressed until Prokofiev and his nemesis Josef Stalin had died, ironically within days of one another.  Now, a hundred years after the Revolution, we can perhaps assess its impact on Russia and the world.  And with Gergiev and the Mariinsky Orchestra and Choir, we probably had the best possible interpreters.  

Eisenstein's film, made ten years after the Russian Revolution of 1917, depicted ten critical days in the struggle, starting with the return of Lenin, culminating with the creation of a new Soviet government dedicated to ideals of peace and equality.  Prokofiev's Cantata unfolds in ten sections, highlighting themes in the revolution, some with explicit texts, others in more cryptic orchestral form. Prokofiev prefaced the Prelude with a quote from Marx and Engels A Communist Manifesto, "A Spectre is haunting Europe, the Spectre of Communism".  Marx and Engels, though, were writing in 1848 when communism was no more than theory.  Prokofiev, on the other hand, had personal experience of what a communist revolution could mean.  One wonders if he's praising the system or hinting at something darker.   

In the second section, the choirs intone "Philosophers have simply explained the world in different ways. The point is to change it". Another equivocal statement that can be read in different ways. Perhaps the setting hides a clue to meaning. Male and female chorus members sing lines that overlap one another,  propelled by strict rhythm like the pounding of machinery.   Rising anthems in the orchestra suggest patriotic pride, but they're cut apart by an Interlude with jagged angles, and ominous crashing percussion. Perhaps we're in some huge, infernal machine.  In the section titled "Marching in Closed Rank", the voices in jerky lockstep, the rhythms are even more pronounced, highlighted with crashing cymbals and brass.  The text quotes Lenin,"...we are singling ourselves out as a special group who have chosen the path of struggle, not the path of compromise". 

Yet Prokofiev follows this with a tiny Interlude of  haunting quietness before the voices return, the women apart from the men.  The revolution has started but its outcome is by no means certain.  Thus rushing, frantic figures, passages where the singing is so fast that, with less articulate voice, the line might collapse. Psychologically true: Trumpets call, metallic bells are beaten. We even hear the hint of ships' bells underlining the reference to "Kronstadt, Vyborg , Revel" (where the Navy mutinied).  We even hear the wail of a klaxon - a touch of Edgard Varèse? Though it's probably a natural response to the images of machinery and violence.  The suggestion of gunfire hangs heavily over the orchestra.

Victory, at last? The women's voices sing a serene hymn, whose sweeping lines mihght evoke traditional hymns of harvest.  The men's voices join in.  ""The machinery of oppression has been toppled". Yet still Prokofiev paints mechanical processes into his music - the regular tread of machines and processes, the singers clapping their hands in joyless rhythm, the percussion section stamping their feet.  A single voice rises from within the closed ranks of the men's choir.  "We need the measured tread of the iron battalions of the proletariat". The combined choirs sing a secular hymn of unquestioning obedience to Lenin and his values.  The words quote Stalin, whose loyalty to Lenin might not have been as pure as the text suggests.

A section marked "Symphony" follows - flying figures, trumpets and flutes leading forward, the suggestion of pipes and drums, then a semi-pastoral melody, the strings singing as if they were describing fields of corn and a bumper harvest.  But grim ostinato intrudes: the timpani growl and the orchestra flies off again in frantic tension.  Perhaps in this extended section, with its sophisticated textures and inventive contrasts, Prokofiev is expressing that which cannot be voiced in a totalitarian society.  The choirs return, singing in unison, men alternating with women, singing a chorale to words by Stalin, praising the Constitution of the Soviet Union. But in a totalitarian state, constitutional procedures don't guarantee a thing. You could end up in a gulag, as Lina Prokofiev discovered.

So is Prokofiev's  Cantata for the Twentieth Anniversary of the October Revolution glorious propaganda? And, if so, for whom and for what purpose? In musical terms it's a lot more sophisticated and subtle than the blatantly crude texts suggest.  Was Prokofiev playing a dangerous double game? We may never know, but the Cantata is a lot more than kitsch  

Prokofiev's Cantata received its first public performance in 1966.  The following year, the Soviet Republic marked its 50th anniversary with a reissue of Eisenstein's October: Ten Days that Shook The World. A new soundtrack was added, specially written by Dimitri Shostakovich. It';s thrilling stuff,. These thoughts absorbed me while listening to  Gergiev and the Mariinsky Orchestra perform Dimitri Shostakovich Symphony no 5 in D minor, written at the same time as Prokofiev's Cantata  This was a wildfire hit with the regime, rehabilitating him in their good books.  Throughout his career, Shostakovich played cat and mouse with the system, not always in the best interests of his music.   This performance was so good that Gergiev rehabilitated it for me: it's not usually my favourite., but this was good.  Gergiev's  also a champion of the music of Galina Ustvolskaya.  Initially, she was in Shostakovich's inner circle but eventually their paths turned apart.  Ustvolskaya's music was so uncompromising that it compromised her status in society.  Who knows what Prokofiev would have made of her?  The Prokofiev that might lurk within this Cantata, that is. Keeping Prokofiev and Shostakovich apart,  Tchaikovsky's  Piano Concerto No. 3 in E flat major with soloist Denis Matsuev.

Sunday, 3 September 2017

Animal instincts : Gatti RCOA Mahler 4 Haydn Prom

Daniele Gatti, Royal Concertgebouw Amsterdam, credit Annedokter

 Danielle Gatti and the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra Amsterdam  with Haydn Symphony No. 82 in C major, 'The Bear' and Mahler Symphony no 4 at Prom 66 at the Royal Albert Hall.  A combination which enhanced both parts of the programme.  A lively, agile Haydn bringing out its warm hearted humour.  Two hundred and fifty years ago, people thought bear dancing was entertainment. Wild animals tamed and controlled by man!  Nowadays, we realize that the wild animals were the men and the bears victims of torture.  Since bears can't actually dance, the music they danced to was  bucolic. Hence the Dudelsack (bagpipes) with its earthy drone. A top-flight composer, writing for rich folks, (who probably laughed at the peasants, too)  and now, a top-flight  orchestra playing for the Proms. What irony!  But better that than reality.

And so to Mahler's Symphony no 4, the last true Wunderhorn symphony,  which connects to a world long past, where barbarism against people was normal, even admired. It's often assumed that this symphony is cheerful and sunny, and in some contexts it does work very well that way. But beneath the bucolic charm, there's horror. Elftausend Jungfrauen zu tanzen sich trauen, Sankt Ursula selbst dazu Lacht. But St. Ursula caused the death of 11,000 virgins, who followed her in a Crusade across Europe. Most never got to the Holy Land, and even if they had, for what purpose? More irony - sainthood and delusion, the message still relevant in our supposedly more enlightened times.  But it's OK ! the dead kids are singing in Heaven, and there's lots to eat. The animals, like the children,  are happy to die. Wir führen ein geduldig's, Unschuldig's, geduldig's, Ein liebliches Lämmlein zu Tod.  (Please see my article Why Greedy Kids in Mahler 4) 

Mahler, Mengelberg and Diepenbrook, 1904

The interpretation of the final movement in this symphony has a bearing on performance, though there are many possible ways of doing it. The Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra Amsterdam have been doing it since 1904, when it was radical New Music. Yet music is endlessly reborn anew in each performance - different players, different listeners, always something new to discover.  That's yet another hidden message embedded in Mahler's Fourth Symphony.  Das himmlisches Leben  connects to Das irdische Leben, where a child starves because its mother keeps promising to feed it, but doesn't.  And so the dilemma of being an artist with integrity, who creates whether the public gets it or not.  Mahler's sympathies lie with the artist..  

Fortunately some listeners do get it.  Gatti's approach to the symphony is refined but purposeful, never losing sight of the ultimate goal. Bedächtig. Nicht eilen and In gemächlicher bewungen. Ohne hast :  No need to rush, but rather linger in the present, or more accurately, perhaps, in memories of a sunnier past.  Because good things will end. Just as in  Mahler's Symphony no 2, we linger as long as possible, resisting the inevitable. Gatti doesn't drag though, and his pace is sunlit. The Ländler rhythms suggest folk music, peasants - and peasant children - dancing. The RCOA can do rustic with elegance. For all we know, to a Dudelsack or similar middle-European instrument : nothing sophisticated.  Mahler pushes forth with the theme for solo violin, a reference to Freund Hein, the Fiddler whose presence leads to Death.  The Pied Piper, like St Ursula, leading the innocent to doom.  Thus the macabre scordatura tuning.  In deliberate contrast, the third movement, marked Ruhevoll, was particularly well defined. The cataclysmic final section, with its blazing trumpets, timpani and cymbals resolving back to the gentler theme highlighted with harps was good too, preparing the way for the all-important last movement.  

The soloist here was Chen Reiss. A pleasant voice, on the lighter side, which often works well in this part.  though it's not essential, since it can support quite  a lot of sensuality, which is important, since the text refers to earthly, earthy pleasures, like red meat.  It has been done extremely well by heftier voices and even by mezzos.  Gatti and the orchestra supplied the humour. Wonderful "animal" noises like the bleating of sheep and the wailing of oxen.  The orchestra also supplied the colour and drama - sharp, focused playing, reminding us that the knife-like edge is never far away, even in this pastoral vision. 


.   

Saturday, 2 September 2017

Le plat pays - new translation


Avec la mer du Nord pour dernier terrain vague
Et des vagues de dunes pour arrêter les vagues
Et de vagues rochers que les marées dépassent
Et qui ont à jamais le cœur à marée basse
Avec infiniment de brumes à venir
Avec le vent de l'est écoutez-le tenir
Le plat pays qui est le mien

Avec des cathédrales pour uniques montagnes
 Et de noirs clochers comme mâts de cocagne
Où des diables en pierre décrochent les nuages
Avec le fil des jours pour unique voyage
Et des chemins de pluie pour unique bonsoir
Avec le vent d'ouest écoutez-le vouloir
Le plat pays qui est le mien

Avec un ciel si bas qu'un canal s'est perdu
Avec un ciel si bas qu'il fait l'humilité
Avec un ciel si gris qu'un canal s'est pendu
 Avec un ciel si gris qu'il faut lui pardonner
Avec le vent du nord qui vient s'écarteler
Avec le vent du nord écoutez-le craquer
Le plat pays qui est le mien

Avec de l'Italie qui descendrait l'Escaut
Avec Frida la Blonde quand elle devient Margot
Quand les fils de novembre nous reviennent en mai
Quand la plaine est fumante et tremble sous juillet
Quand le vent est au rire quand le vent est au blé
Quand le vent est au sud écoutez-le chanter
Le plat pays qui est le mien.

 Jacques Brel

my translation

With the North Sea for its horizon of waves,  
And the waves, and the dunes to stop the waves,
And the wave tossed rocks that the tides swirl round,
And whose heart is ever at low tide,
With an infinity of fog ahead, 
With the east wind hear it rip,
The flat country, that is mine.

With cathedrals as its only mountains,
With black towers like mâts de cocagne (a cockpit mast pole that's hard to climb)
Where devils in stone (gargoyles) glare at the sky,
Where the passage of days is the only journey,
And roads of rain the only bonsoir,
And only the west wind hears what you want,
The flat country,  that is mine.

With the sky so low that it's lost in the canal,
With the sky so low it's humility,
With the sky so grey it's hangs in the canal.
With the sky so grey it, it begs forgiveness,
With the north winds blowing in disarray,
With the north wind, hear it crack,,
The flat country, that is mine

With Italy descending on l'Escaut
With Frida the blonde when she becomes Margot,
When the sons of November return in May,
When  the fields are smoking and trembling in July,,
When the wind laughs, when the wind is in corn,
When the wind blows from the south, hear it sing.
The flat country, that is mine


Friday, 1 September 2017

"And the days grow short when you reach September"

photo : Takeshi Kuboki, Amagasaki, Japan 2012

"......;.;But it's a long, long while from May to December
And the days grow short when you reach September 
And the autumn weather turns the leaves to flame 
And I haven't got time for the waiting game 
And the wine dwindles down to a precious brew
September, November,
............
And these few vintage years I'd share with you 
These vintage years I'd share with you
But it's a long, long while from May to December 
And the days grow short when you reach September
And I have lost one tooth and I walk a little lame 
And I haven't got time for the waiting game

And the days dwindle down to a precious few, September, November...

And these precious days I'd spend with you".

Kurt Weill September Song (1938) text : Maxwell Andersen

Semyon Bychkov Tchaikovsky Manfred, Taneyev Rachmaninov

In Prom 63, Semyon Bychkov  conducted Kiril Gerstein and the BBC Symphony  Orchestra in Taneyev, Rachmaninov and Tchaikovsky in an almost identical programme to the concert they did at the Barbican last October in their Tchaikovsky Project Series.  But Bychkov, Gerstein and the BBC SO are always worth hearing. It was also interesting to listen to Bychkov's Manfred Symphony op 58 again, in the space of a week, since Riccardo Chailly conducted the same symphony at the opening gala of the Lucerne Festival, paired with Mendelssohn's A Midsummers Night's Dream.

Two different perspectives, two different approaches but both valid and both worthwhile.  Chailly and the Lucerne Festival Orchestra were astonishingly good: the magical transparency of Mendelssohn enhancing the High Romantic supernatural nature of Tchaikovsky's Manfred.  A truly illuminating, inspired  performance! Much as I  love the BBC SO, the Lucerne Festival Orchestra are altogether in a more spectacular league, the musicians hand picked from the finest orchestras in Europe, playing together for love. Always a special occasion; no comparisons really possible. Chailly's Prom  last week with the La Scala Philharmonic came nowhere near, partly because the programme (Brahms and Respighi) was less inspired.  So track down  Chailly's  Lucerne Mendelssohn and Manfred, which was filmed live for broadcast.  No disrespect to Bychkov, but Lucerne was exceptional. 

Bychkov framed Tchaikovsky's Manfred Symphony op 58 with Sergei Taneyev's Oresteia op 6 (1889) placing the focus on Taneyev's connections to Tchaikovsky.  In a way, this diminishes Taneyev, for Oresteia isn't very Tchaikovskian.   It's a tone poem based on Greek mythology which surprisingly doesn't figure much in Russian repertoire, at least from the assumptions we now have about the style. A lovely violin melody weaves through the piece, connecting fast-flowing passages that suggest, perhaps the Furies, wild climaxes contrasted with a serene section , harps decorating strings.  Bychkov's reasons for pairing this with Manfred are much stronger.  Orestes is a doomed hero, who kills his mother urged by his sister, and is himself killed by a snake. 

Thus the cosmic struggle in Manfred, which Byron set in the high Alps. In Byron's time, the Alps symbolized danger, the vastness of nature dwarfing humankind. Schumann's Manfred is Romantic in the true, wild Germanic sense. Tchaikovsky, however. was even more a man of the theatre, so Bychkov's approach emphasized the panoramic, scenic aspects of the piece.   He created the backdrop to the drama vividly: generous, sweeping lines suggesting limitless horizons.   As the tempo quickened, the orchestra soared upward: searching lines contrasting well with the sudden crashing climax with which the first movement ends. 

Perhaps this is the moment when Manfred meets his mysterious half sister Astarte. What is the nature of their relationship (bearing in mind Byron's unnatural relationship with his own half sister)? And, why the mountains?  The second movement, marked vivace con spirito, describes a mountain spirit, one of the elementals who haunt Alpine lore. They are fairies, but also signify danger, their elusiveness defying human control.  Thus the high violin melody that flies above, and away, from the main orchestral foundation.

The third movement describes the mountain folk, who carve out marginal lives in harsh conditions, yet seem happy as they dance, presumably in pure, open air festivals. They're tough folk and down to earth, while Manfred, though a hero, is rather more quixotic. Like Byron himself, maybe, a towering figure but one with dark complexes and possibly a death wish.  Tolling bells suggest danger. The music descends into a stranger mood, sounds crashing against each other as if the earth itself was imploding,"fire" pouring forth from the rapid rivulets of sound.  Manfred fights off the evil spirits who tempt him, but chooses to die on his own terms. What might Tchaikovsky have made of this? The finale was grand, the pace brisk, craggy peaks and descents sharply defined, dizzying figures suggesting turbulence. Not mountain breezes, but perhaps something more demonic.  The organ underlined the cosmological nature of Manfred's predicament.  Although the drama dissipates at the end of the symphony, textures are more refined, more esoteric, one feels that perhaps Manfred is entering a new frontier, beyond the ken of mankind. Hence details, like the horn calling the hero on, and the dizzying upwards rush towards a serene conclusion that might suggest spiritual sublimation. Chailly was better at evoking the demonic supernatural levels in the piece lurking behind the scenery, but Bychkov's account was heady stuff.

In between Taneyev and Manfred, Rachmaninov's Piano Concerto no 1 with Kiril Gerstein, a moment of relative sanity between the two doomed heroes at either end of this Prom. 

Thursday, 31 August 2017

Renée Fleming at the Proms Barber Nielsen Oramo


Prom 61 : Renée Fleming sang Samuel Barber Knoxville: Summer of 1915 and Strauss with Sakari Oramo conducting the Royal Stockholm Philharmonic Orchestra (Konserthuset Stockholm), , in a programme that included  Carl Nielsen's Symphony no 2 "The Four Temperaments" and Andrea Tarrodi's Liguria.  Though the Nielsen was the highlight of the performance - done with great verve - BBC marketing played up the diva, whom most of the audience had come to hear. And rightly so, for Fleming is more than just a singer, she's a personality of such stature that any opportunity to hear her now should be cherished.

For me, the draw was Samuel Barber's Knoxville: Summer of 1915 op 24 (1948), an astonishing beautiful piece which I love dearly. There's nothing quite like it.  It's a stream-of-consciousness reverie, heard through a haze of orchestration, evoking what it feels like to be young and protected, still within the embrace of loved ones.  It is high summer,in Tennessee, inn the cool of the evening after a long, hot day. "...It has become that time of evening when people sit on their porches, rocking gently and talking gently and watching the street and the standing up into their sphere of possession of the trees, of birds' hung havens, hangars."  Note the melody with its sense of slow, rhythmic movement, as if the whole world was a cradle, rocking gently in the breeze.  Nothing much happens, and that's the beauty.  In the quietude, even the tiniest detail is lovingly observed, like the streetcar in this distance,  whose "iron whine rises on rising speed; still risen, faints; halts; the faint stinging bell; rises again, still fainter, fainting, lifting, lifts, faints foregone: forgotten."

Time itself seems to slow down and compress. The moment is so precious that the text lingers on images, trying to make them last as long as possible.  Thus the sudden exaltations, with inventive non-words created spontaneously.  "..They are not talking much, and the talk is quiet, of nothing in particular, of nothing at all. The stars are wide and alive, they seem each like a smile of great sweetness, and they seem very near.".   Eventually even the images shrink to their most instinctive essence. The poet is an infant again, the very idea of Self erased,nestledbackin the womb. .  "All my people have larger bodies than mine". But this nostalgia is doomed. The text takes on the semblance of prayer.  Time cannot stand still. These people will die. It's that sense of fragility and loss that makes Barber's Knoxville 1915 such a special piece.

This also makes it more difficult to perform than might seem at first.  The orchestration is deceptively simple - a  sensual woodwind melody, gentle strings, soft rocking rhythms, which need to be created with restraint yet deep feeling.   Received wisdom suggests that the singer should sound child-like, but I'm not so sure, for the protagonist is clearly someone who has grown old and learned what it means to lose what's closest and dearest.  Somehow the singer has to evoke both perspectives at once : artfulness, but without artifice.  There are many recordings, but very few get it right.  Better, I think, simple sincerity.  More than ten years ago, I heard a performance so self consciously over the top that I still shudder. (NOT Renée Fleming)  So  I'm so glad that Renée Fleming has at last commercially released a recording of  Barber's Knoxville Summer of 1915 (with Oramo and the RSPO) because the gap in the discography needs her.  Now, she's no ingénue and needs effort to project in the Royal Albert Hall. If that means sacrificing clarity of text,, for musical line, that's fine by me. She's  still good value.  She was on more familiar ground with the Transformation scene (Ich komme) from Richard Strauss Daphne.

Carl Nielsen's Symphony no 2 "The Four Temperaments" (Op 16, 1902)  describes the  four temperaments - Choleric, Phlegmatic, Melancholic and Sanguine. An interesting companion  piece to Barber's Knoxville the Summer of 1915.   Nielsen, though, defines each mood with greater expansiveness. With glee, even.  One can imagine Nielsen's exuberant high spirits poking fun at people taking themselves too seriously.  There's a famous set of photos for which Nielsen posed, squirming and grunting, twisting his face in exaggerated emotion.  Please see my post here for more photos)  Sakari Oramo is one of the top Nielsen conductors around.  Indeed, he did the Nielsen symphonies as a group in parallel to a similar set around the same time as did John  Storgårds.  Both conductors are good because they have distinctively individual approaches which highlight aspects of the composer's idiom. Oramo's positive-thinking geniality works extremely well, especially in this symphony where each Temperament needs to be defined with almost anarchic humour.  Earthy playing from the Royal Stockholm players, with lots of mischevious spark.  Definitely the high point of the whole evening ! 


The Prom began with Andrea Tarrodi's Liguria, a world premiere, an atmospheric piece evoking the moods of the landscape or seascape around Liguria. Rich, full bodied sounds, moving on multiple levels at once, as dense and teeming in detail as the ocean is.  A central passage where clarinets, flutes and oboes dance together before lively percussion and pizzicato figures. In a third section, the pace and textures build up before detumesence in sparkling figures, lit by tolling bells.  A very well written piece that deserves to be heard again in a programme that gives it more prominence.

Tuesday, 29 August 2017

Puppets? Yes! Wozzeck Matthias Goerne Salzburg


Alban Berg's Wozzeck  at Salzburg, with Matthias Goerne, with Vladimir Jurowski conducting the Vienna Philharmoniuc Orchestra, at last on medici.tv.  Goerne's done the role many times in the last 20 years or so, so his approach is authoritative, with searing intensity, so expressive that you almost flinch.  But flinch you should, since that's what makes for a good Wozzeck. When my son went to his first Wozzeck, he heard some in the audience chuckling. "What!" he gasped in exasperation, "If you can come out of this opera without feeling  disturbed, there's something wrong with you". For Berg's Wozzeck is the epitome of Expressionist Angst, a psychodrama that unfurls in multi-level complexity.  It is a howling scream of outrage against a system that dehumanizes and destroys all involved.  Not just Wozzeck, or Marie, but the regimented (in every way) world around them.   Everyone in this opera is a puppet of some kind,  manipulated by some unseen, invisible force beyond their control.

William Kentridge's production was created for the Haus für Mozart, a relatively small, performing space, which must magnify the impact.  On film, however, the physical darkness overwhelms. It's not easy to watch, but well worth the effort because Kentridge's reading is highly perceptive.  The abstraction of the set is disconcerting. It's as if we were within an infernal machine, where things are regulated by clockwork: odd angular planes, horizontals and diagonals, myriad tools and mechanisms.  The Captain is seen, taunting Wozzeck from above.  He's wearing a ceremonial hat and red uniform, his arms waving like a wound-up toy. Gerhard Siegel spat out the words "Haha! Haha!" with maniacal savagery.  So he's not being shaved?  Wozzeck (Matthias Goerne)  is seen bent over, grinding away.  Then you realize why the Captain's cloak is blood red.  Parallel realities, psychological truth.

Berg was writing at a time when psychological theories entranced the public imagination, and cinema was quick to capitalize on its ability to present multiple-level visual and emotional effects.  Berg, a keen movie goer,  incorporated new ideas into his score. The orchestral interludes operate like curtain changes, keeping the action swift even when drastic changes of scene are taking place.  Wozzeck exits whatever room he's been in with the Captain, into a maze of shadows, the path ahead of him narrow and skewed in zig zag form - an image which could come straight from a 20's silent movie.   Suddenly we're in the surreal world of the reed beds, where Wozzeck and Andres (Mauro Peter) are collecting reeds for fuel. The contraptions on their backs are the kind of baskets used by woodcutters in the past, which incidentally resemble straitjackets. Though we don't see the reedbeds, we sense they're there on either side of the narrow path, waiting to suck the men in and drown them. The orchestra growls ominous menace, timpani pounding, the gloom lit by will o' the wisps of high woodwind, suggesting surreal spirits.  Goerne's voice rises spookily from the darkness "Still, alles still, als wäre die Welt tot!"

The orchestra heralds another change of scene:  Marie is glimpsed, alone with her child, here seen as a puppet. And why not? Berg portrayed the child as nameless, unformed without a voice of his own, an observer of horrors who will quite possibly grow up to act out the dehumanization around him all over again.  The puppet wears a gas mask, and the puppeteer the uniform of a field nurse.  It's utterly relevant, since Berg experienced horrors in a military hospital during the First World War. The system was sick, the hospital palliative, not focused on cure.   There are many who object to the employment of a real child in the part, but there's something wrong with the kind of viewer who doesn't want a kid to witness sex.   Why not get angry about the fact that millions of kids grow up abused and neglected in reality all round us?  Perhaps Wozzeck grew up in such conditions. The cyclical nature of Berg's idiom makes it clear that cycles go on, unbroken, like the palindromes in the music.

The Drum Major (John Daszak) fascinated Marie (Asmik Grigorian) and Margret (Frances Pappas) because he seems to embody another, more glamorous world than their own. Yet he, too, is a puppet, strutting and marching in formation.  Though Marie loves her child and tries to amuse him with songs, she can't break out of the pattern of inept parenting she probably experienced herself.   Goerne's voice with its rich depth suggests more warmth and basic decency than the role strictly speaking provides, but this household isn't Happy Families.

Kentridge's staging suggests how Wozzeck seems to live his life struggling between one box and another.  Goerne sits passively while the Doctor ( Jens Larsen) prods and pokes him in the name of crackpot science. "Ah....." sings  Goerne, his voice almost rising to falsetto, suggesting pain and muffled protest.  Interestingly, Marie cries almost as shrilly before she succumbs to the Drum Major.  Moments later, she's singing fairy tales, as if nothing's happened.  The puppet, however, expresses pathos, crumpling into immobility, like a child shutting out trauma.  The Doctor and the Captain converse, but they, too, are in a psychic hell of delusion. Officers, but still puppets acting out roles they can't otherwise fill.  In comparison, Wozzeck is sane. "Man könnte Lust bekommen, sich aufzuhängen! Dann wüsste man, woran man ist!" sings Goerne, but the Captain and doctor think it's a joke.

A momentary glimpse of another puppet-child, dressed in white like the Drum Major, marching while the men in the barracks carouse.  Yet again, Berg contrasts horror with mindless banality: boozy drinking songs and the cry of the Madman  (Heinz Göhrig) the first to sense blood.   Fabulous ensemble singing - Goerne's voice rising above the ghostly sounds in the chorus.  The confrontation between the Drum Major and Wozzeck is brutal, trumpets blazing, staccato percussion, like gunfire. 
Grigorian's tiny, her voice more shrill than most Maries, so in comparison with Goerne, she's like a fragile child.  He towers over her, like a father figure, a chilling image, suggestingb that both of them were brutalized, too, in the past.  Two tiny figures in a vast landscape oif abstract black and grey with flashes of red light, like thunder (in recognition of Berg's original stage directions). The "curtain" falls in a cataclysmic scream in the orchestra, horns ablaze.   But Goerne dominates, in every way, singing with exceptional character, better even than in the past.  "Das Wassser ist Blut ! Blut!"  The Doctor and Captain, yet again, retreat in denial.

Atmosopheric playing from the Vienna Philharmonic, decidedly "more" than a Strauss orchestra. Jurowski's years of experience as an opera conductor pay off well. The harsh dissonance and swirling strings scream horror, yet also elegy.  At last we see some semblance of scenery, but it's not natural. The pool shines, but it's surrounded by broken uprights. Is it a bomb crater filled with rain and mud?  Magnificent, malevolent video projections to match the intensity in the music. One screen shows a figure - neither male nor female - relentlessly walking.  Thus Berg ends with the song "Ringel, Ringel, Rosenkranz, Ringelreih'n!"  It is a round, yet another typically Bergian palindrome. The children's voices sound innocent but the message is sinister.  The puppet child rides a hobby horse, as mentioned in the libretto, but this time, it's made from a crutch.  The children's voices are heard from offstage. "Du ! Deinn Mutter ist tod!" they cry, cruelly. The puppet is truly alone trapped in his own dimension.  He listens, then bends his little head desolate and crestfallen.,  He may be made of wood, but he has more humanity than most of the other characters in this bleakest of operas.
--------------------------
William Kentridge | Stage director, Luc De Wit | Co-stage director,Sabine Theunissen | Stage sets,
Greta Goiris | Costumes, Catherine Meyburgh | Video editor, Urs Schönebaum | Lighting, Kim Gunning | Video operator

Matthias Goerne | Wozzeck, John Daszak | Drum Major, Mauro Peter | Andres, Gerhard Siegel | Captain, Jens Larsen | Doctor, Tobias Schabel | First Apprentice, Huw Montague Rendall | Second Apprentice, Heinz Göhrig | Madman, Asmik Grigorian | Marie, Frances Pappas | Margret
Salzburger Festspiele und Theater Kinderchor, Wolfgang Götz | Chorus director, Concert Association of the Vienna State Opera Chorus, Ernst Raffelsberger | Chorus director

 Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra, Vladimir Jurowski | Conductor

Sunday, 27 August 2017

Hussite Hymns - Jakub Hrůša Bohemian Prom


At Prom 56, Jakub Hrůša conducted the BBC Symphony Orchestra in a programme on the theme of the Hussite Wars and their place in Bohemian culture - Smetana, Martinů, Dvořák, Janáček and Josef Suk. Pity the BBC publicity machine branded this  "The Bohemian Reformation", like Nigel Farage squealing "Independence Day" as if the fate of the nation was a movie.  The Hussite movement happened started a hundred years before the Luther Reformation. They were wiped out.  Jan Hus (1369-1416) was burnt at the stake and the religious ideas he espoused largely forgotten. But the movement became a cultural symbol, adapted to the growth of Czech identity. Hrůša's programme was much more than tub-thumping nationalism.  In any case, there's a lot more to national heritage than bombastic bullying. Hrůša's Prom was a sophisticated, musically literate  study of specific themes in Bohemian music history, and needs to be appreciated in musical terms.

Hrůša started with the Hussite hymn Ktož jsú boží bojovníci (Ye Who Are Warriors of God), the men of the BBC Singers singing without accompaniment.  Though we rarely hear the hymn as hymn, its tune is familiar.  Smetana used it in Má vlast, quoting it in the section Tábor which we heard here, the town of Tábor being a Hussite fortress.  Thus the quiet, tense introduction, developed through brass and timpani, which grows bolder as the hymn emerges.  Triumphant climaxes and the hymn theme surges. But as we know, the Hussites were annihilated.  Thus Blaník depicts the even earlier legend that St Wenceslaus, patron saint of Bohemia, will return to defend the nation.  Smetana, writing at a time when Bohemia was ruled by the Hapsburgs, drew connections between the tenth-century saint and the Hussites. The strong angular themes in Tábor return in even greater glory in Blaníkmassive drum rolls and crashing cymbals

In 1938, Czechoslovakia was annexed by Germany, with the implicit approval of Britain.  Bohuslav Martinů's Polní mše, H. 279 Field Mass (1939) was written for Czech exiles fighting with the French against the Germans. Thus the strange instrumentation, with brass and percussion employed to suggest the idea of performance in battlefield conditions.  Drum rolls, marching rhythms,  trumpet calls and a chorus of male voices. But also piano and harmonium and a part for baritone soloist beyond the scope of an average amateur.  Fortunately, in Svatopluk Sem, we heard one of the most distinctive voices in the repertoire. Sem is a stalwart of the National Theatre in Prague, well known to British audiences for his work with Jiří Bělohlávek who transformed the way Czech music is heard in this country.  Sem delivered with great authority, imbuing the words with almost biblical portent.  His text is based on poetry by Jiří Mucha, who was soon to marry Vítezslava Kaprálová. (please read more about her here  Her Military Sinfonietta (1937) would have worked well in this programme, though it doesn't include a part for choir.

In Martinů's Field Mass, the choir acts as foil to the soloist, voices in hushed unison, mass (in every sense) supporting the individual.  Though their music is relatively straightforward Miserere, Kyrie and psalm, this simplicity enhances the idea of mutual support, reflecting the relationship betweenpiano with harmonium, voices and soloists surrounded by atmospheric percussion and brass.  The version we heard at this Prom is the new edition by Paul Wingfield.

Somewhat less spartan instrumentation for Dvořák's Hussite Overture O67 (1883) though the hymn-like purity of the anthem  rings through clearly. The rough hewn faith of the Hussites doesn't support exaggeration.  Full crescendos and running figures, (piccolo and flutes) flying free from the fierce "hammerblows"of the hymn.  A glowing finale, from the BBC SO in full flow.   The pounding rhythms of  the Hussite hymn come to the fore in the Song of the Hussites  from The Excursions of Mr. Brouček to the Moon and to the 15th Century   Here the reference to the hymn is used for satire, contrasting the  morality of the Hussites with the depravity of modern life, represented by the feckless, drunken Mr Brouček. To conclude this huge, ambitious programme,

Josef Suk's Prague op 26 (1904), in a tribute to Jiří Bělohlávek who made the BBC SO one of the finest Czech orchestras outside Czechia.  (Please read my tribute to  Bělohlávek with many links to his London performances of Czech repertoire. ).The same goes for the BBC Singers who sing Czech pretty well.  The piece was written at a dark time in Suk's life, after the death of his wife Ottilie and father-in-law Antonin Dvořàk. It connects to Suk's Asrael Symphony (op 27, 1905)  and even to The Ripening ( op 34, 1912-7).  All three pieces deal with death, made almost bearable by faith, despite extreme grief.In Suk's Prague, the Hussite hymn makes an appearance as a symbol of something that lives on beyond temporal restraints., Suk seems to be surveying the city he loved, contrasting its history of struggle with his present.  Perhaps, as he looked out on the castle, cathedral and the Rudolfinium, he could position his sorrow in a wider context. People die, but cultures remain.   That's why I feel so strongly that the term "Bohemian Reformation" is a crock. There''s a lot more to heritage than simplistic nationalism.  Hrůša conducted Suk's Prague with such intensity, that the performance eclipsed all else in an evening filled with high points. 

Jakub Hrůša's belated Proms debut but he is one of the most exciting conductors around, full of character and individuality.  Though he's young, he's extremely experienced, and at a high level. In the UK, he's conducted at Glyndebourne and with the BBC SO and the Philharmonia, where he becomes Chief Guest Conductor next season.  He is a natural in Czech repertoire, and a possible successor to Bělohlávek, whose memorial he conducted in Prague, but he's also very good in other material. Definitely a conductor to follow. 

Please also read my article Smetana's role in the modernization of China   and many other posts on Czech repertoire, film etc.

Friday, 25 August 2017

Wilhelm Killmayer, visionary, in memoriam


Wilhelm Killmayer died this week, just one day short of his 90th birthday.  Killmayer was utterly unique, even among the many inventive minds in music over the last 60 years.  Killmayer was deeply immersed in European culture, re-examining its soul and creating anew. Listening to Killmayer is like visiting a sanctuary, where the ur-sources of creativity flow pure and clean, endlessly refreshing the artistic imagination.  Think on that idea of an eternally clear fountain, springing from great depths, sparkling in the sunlight.  It captures the spirit of Killmayer's music.  "All that white!" a pianist once exclaimed, looking at a score. 

But as Killmayer said, "Silence liberates us.  It helps us to listen to
ourselves. Music can make us forget ourselves. It can also make us
become aware of ourselves
."  


That's a very zen concept. In Chinese painting, blank spaces are an essential part of composition because they balance literal with imponderable, letting the viewers exercise their minds.  Killmayer's music is luminous,  transparent. and incredibly

beautiful.  It's radical because it's both challenging and intuitive, activating mind and soul.  Killmayer connects to the idealism of Ancient Greece, or rather the German Romantic  reinvention thereof. One of his heroes was Friedrich Hölderlin,  the poet and thinker who crossed boundaries to the extent that he ended up incarcerated at Tübingen in a tower that had been part of the medieval city wall,. He'd sit singing to the moon and writing poems so odd and so spartan that many thought him mad.  Yet Hölderlin's late period has perhaps been even more influential in the 20th century. Perhaps, in his isolation, that 19th century mystic speaks for the modern soul.  

Killmayer's two cycles, the Hölderlin-Lieder, (1986 and 1988) are an extraordinary achievement.  Like Hölderlin's fragments, the songs begin and end as if materializing out of the ether.  Some are little more than disconncted phrases or passages of prose which don't make logical sense though their poetic import feels profound.   Strange harmonies, extremely high, taxing tessitura, delicate matching of voice, solo instruments (flutes and piano) and string lines that stretch into space.  Lots of silence, when the music seems to hover unheard except in the mind of the poet. As he listens, we listen too, blanking out the detritus of mindless noise that is normal life.    

All this variety, lit by an immaculate but unworldy, unnatural glow,  The word "Greichenland",  for example, suddenly bursting forth, sung with exquisite rapture.  For as Hölderlin glimpses an unattainable, ideal vision beyond reality, we too can ponder a world beyond.  Killmayer's Hölderlin-Lieder are, to me, one of the truly great masterpieces of the 20th century, which is saying something, given that there was so much music then that it's still hard to process.  I turn to the Hölderlin-Lieder whenever I need to clear my head of muzak and refocus.  "Sonnenschien !" "Wahrheit".  And gosh, it's beautiful, once you get into its magical vibe.  Kind of like being in Ancient Greece with a solitary shepherd and his lute.  Or flute). So what if Killmayer isn't populist mass market ? Like  Hölderlin, Heine and Goethe, significant artists and intellectuals are often way ahead of their time.  

"A single note is very precious for me - like a crystal or a flower" . (Wilhelm Killmayer)

Wilhelm Killmayer was born in Munich and trained with Carl Orff.  His ideas on magical realism may or may not have come from Orff , though probably they were in Killmayer all along. Killmayer was also a man of the theatre, working with the Munich and Frankfurt opera and ballet houses.  Hence Yolimba, one of his greatest hits. Most of his work, however, is orchestral and chamber music, and for me, his art song to German poets.  So much to choose from ! A long and rewarding journey.  Killmayer's influence is substantial.  Wolfgang Rihm is his highest profile admirer, but there are many. But perhaps what I love most about Killmayer is his humanity. His work is informed by warmth and gentle humour, values not sufficiently respected in this age where might means right.   Orphaned at the age of six, at 66 Killmayer became the father of twins.  A lifestyle change if ever there was!  Killmayer took to the experience with characteristic goodwill. "I need to write more, now", he apparently joked.  Fortunately, he left us with a solid body of work to cherish and explore, though more of it should be recorded.  

Die Sonne glänzt, es blühen die Gefilde,
Die Tage kommen blütenreich und milde, 


Der Abend blüht hinzu, und helle Tage gehen
Vom Himmel abwärts, wo die Tag entstehen. 

 Das Jahr erscheint mit Zeiten
Wie eine Pracht, wo Feste sich verbreiten,


Der Menschen Tätigkeit beginnt
mit neuem Ziele,
So sind die Zeichen in der Welt,
der Wunder viele.
 

Friedrich Hölderlin , first song in Killmayer's Hölderlin-Lieder

Thursday, 24 August 2017