Showing posts with label justice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label justice. Show all posts

Thursday, March 12, 2009

Matthew Fields: Composer. Humanist. Just-in-Time-Activist. Computer Scientist.

 Matthew Fields
A    ctually, business isn’t always ‘purely Darwinian’. (Please allow me this term because we all know what I mean even if it isn’t what Darwin meant—sorry!)
  Wed, 11-MAR-2009, P. SanGregory / S. Chien
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Nope, stop right there. The English language provides ‘cut-throat’, ‘ruthless’, ‘merciless’, ‘relentless’, ‘callous’, ‘cold-blooded’, ‘dog-eat-dog’, ‘inexorable’, ‘iron-fisted’, and many other terms closer to your probable meaning. In contrast, 'Darwinian' selection includes selection for those who are particularly merciful towards kin and whose genes thus survive more frequently than the selfish. ‘Darwinian biology’, i.e. real biology, observes and explains patterns in nature and does not judge them. Let us stop this misuse of the term [‘Darwinian’]. It’s part of the propaganda of the worldwide anti-science [anti-intellectual] movement ... and it undermines the very civilization which affords us [musicians] our roles.”
  —  Matthew H. Fields, Society of Composers listserve, 11-MAR-2009, commenting on draconian MTSU funding cuts, eliminating ~40 non-tenured faculty positions, including ones in Music.
I t’s been some years since I met Matthew Fields, in Winter of 1996 I think, in connection with one of my visits to the Medical Center Information Technology Dept at the University of Michigan Health System in Ann Arbor. His fiery temperament was (and is) propelled by a passionate wish for the world to be a better place. I had not known back then of Matthew’s accomplishments as a composer.

B orn in 1961, Matthew was trained at Oberlin and Stanford, and received his 1991 DMA/PhD at Univ of Michigan. Among other things, he was involved with the [now-defunct] ‘Just In Time Composers of Boston’. He received first prize in the 1991 composition contest of the Ferruccio Busoni Memorial Society, honorable mention in the Harvey Gaul Composition Competition of Pittsburg New Music Ensemble (2000), second place in the composition competition of the Utah Composers Guild (2002), and was co-winner of the League-ISCM Composer’s Competition (2006). There are a couple of CD recordings of his music that have appeared.

H is chamber music compositions are pretty diverse, but I especially enjoy Matthew’s writing for cello.

 Matthew Fields: ‘Rollerchant’ for cello, 2002

    [50-sec clip, Matthew Fields, ‘Rollerchant’, 1.2MB MP3]


 Matthew Fields: ‘Progeny of Memory’ for cello and harp, 2006, Mvt. 1

    [50-sec clip, Matthew Fields, ‘Progeny of Memory’, 1.2MB MP3]

A nd I particularly enjoy his frequent interactions on SCI and other composers’ websites. His remarks are always forthright, incisive, and, in general, address these issues:

  • Where is composing heading? What is being written and why?
  • How is the the art of composing approached today?
  • What obstacles are professional and amateur composers facing in today’s society, in North America and elsewhere?
I n case you are unfamiliar with Matthew’s work, I thought I’d put up this little post with a couple of clips and links. M.H. Fields: thoughtful humanist, innovative computer scientist, progressive activist, pragmatic advocate for peace and community, committed composer-artist ... with a day-job and family.

P    erfect is the Enemy of Good.”
  —  Voltaire.



Saturday, October 25, 2008

Hespèrion XXI: Unreliable Utopias + Unreliable Narrators = Top-Flight Meta-Meta Fiction

 Savall, Abraham & Hespèrion XXI
D    on Quixote,’ Menard explains, ‘interests me profoundly, but it does not seem to me to have been—how shall I say it?—inevitable. I cannot imagine the universe without the interjection of Edgar Allen Poe’s ‘Ah, bear in mind this garden was enchanted!’ or without the ‘Bateau ivre’ or the ‘Ancient Mariner’, but I know that I am capable of imagining the universe without ‘Don Quixote’... ‘Don Quixote’ is an accidental book; it is ‘unnecessary’. I can premeditate writing, I can write it, without incurring a tautology... My memory of Cervantes’s ‘Don Quixote’, simplified by forgetfulness and indifference, is much the same as the imprecise, anterior image of a book not yet written. Once this image has been postulated, my problems are undeniably considerably more difficult than those which Cervantes faced. My precursor did not refuse the collaboration of fate: he went along composing his immortal work a little ‘a la diáble’, swept along by inertias of language and invention. I, on the other hand, have contracted the mysterious duty of reconstructing his spontaneous work. My game is governed by two polar laws. The first permits me to attempt variants of a formal and psychological nature. The second obliges me to sacrifice them to the ‘original’ text and irrefutably to rationalize this annihilation. In spite of these obstacles, the ‘Don Quixote’ of Menard [Savall] is more subtle than the one by Cervantes. The latter indulges in a rather coarse opposition between tales of knighthood and the meager, provincial reality of his country; Menard [Savall] chooses as reality the land of Carmen during the century of Lepanto and Lope.”
  —  Jorge Luis Borges, ‘Pierre Menard, Author of Don Quixote’.
Romances y Músicas de Don Quijote’—performed Friday night by Jordi Savall and Hespèrion XXI with F. Murray Abraham in Kansas City at the Friends of Chamber Music Early Music Series—includes ballads, songs, madrigals and other musical forms quoted and mentioned by the various characters or otherwise described at various points in Cervantes’s book. Each is matched with its corresponding passage from the Quixote text. The majority of the ballads and songs are ones that were preserved in songbooks, and treatises of the period but, in all those cases in which there is no extant documentary record of the music to which the poems were sung, Savall uses a ‘contrafactum’ approach—widely used in Cervantes’s time—selecting melodies of the period that closely match the mood and metre of the poems. All the musical pieces are integrated with the narrative, as recited by F. Murray Abraham, and performed according to the indications given in the novel.

F. Murray Abraham
What does it mean to provide narrative history under the sign of Cervantes? It cannot mean to speak from within a reanimated 16th-Century society with the voice of Cervantes—remember Borges’s Pierre Menard story about the inauthenticity of attempting to write ‘Don Quixote’ as if one were Cervantes. It must instead mean to speak as oneself, as an historically-informed musician/actor, using period instruments and period text, but from one’s own contemporary vantage point.

And that is precisely what Jordi Savall and Hespèrion XXI and F. Murray Abraham gave to us. There was a constant interplay between an ‘addressive’ mode and a ‘performative’ mode—from narratives about the self and others, to narratives to the self and to others. The mimetic, performative acts of the artists called for corresponding mimetic, performative acts by the audience members. At several points during the performance, Abraham and Savall extemporaneously addressed a young girl in the front row of the audience with her mother, who responded appreciatively. Abraham descends the 1-meter stairs—from the stage set up for the performers in front of the altar, to the floor of the church—and strolls down the aisle into the audience, and then bounds back up on-stage. On several occasions, he emerges from behind the harp and tenor viola da gamba, wending his way to center-stage as he delivers his peripatetic Quixotic recitation. In other words, this is a participatory, improvisatory production, not a recital/reading passively received. Musicians and actor-reader proposing, exposing the Self… selves, patterned after or assimilating qualities and stances of the characters created by Cervantes. Life into story, story into life.

Jordi Savall, photo ©2007 Hans Speekenbrink

    [50-sec clip, Jordi Savall and Hespèrion XXI, 1.14. Primera Parte - Arde La Biblioteca, Capítulos V-VI: Romance De Don Beltrán, ‘¿Los Dolce Pares?’ (Juan Vasquez), 1.2MB MP3]

    [50-sec clip, Jordi Savall and Hespèrion XXI, 2.01. Segunda Parte - Llegada Al Toboso, Capítulo IX: Pavana I, ‘Arpa’ (Alonso Mudarra), 1.2MB MP3]

    [50-sec clip, Jordi Savall and Hespèrion XXI, 2.20. Segunda Parte - En La Entrada De Barcelona, Capítulos LXI-LXII: Conde Claros / Recitado, ‘¿En Fin, Por Caminos Desusados?’ [In the end, we travel by abandoned/disused roads?!] (Alonso Mudarra / Cervantes), 1.2MB MP3]

Savall’s program notes meditate on the fact that Cervantes’s literary accomplishments brought him little worldly success during his lifetime. Cervantes, thwarted and humiliated, found that the music and the ballads provided some respite; they transported him (and us) to a utopia in which cultural affirmations and myths inspire and encourage us to endure. Cervantes’s narrative, according to Savall, is designed to take us into a magical realm of imagination that goes beyond what can be expressed or suggested by words alone.

The whole of ‘Don Quixote’ is full of exotic illusions of the kind that, during the 20th Century, Jorge Luis Borges became famous for. It is meta-fiction. In fact, in Savall’s ingenious hands, it is transformed into high ‘meta-meta fiction’: musico-theatrical fiction about fiction about fiction.

Meta? Meta-meta? Well, Cervantes tells us in Volume 1 that the original story of Don Quixote was written in Arabic by some Muslim Moor named Sidi Hamid Benengali, and that Cervantes is merely a ‘translator’ or intermediary rendering it in Spanish. This isn’t true, of course—it was a narratorly ruse by Cervantes. Cervantes tells us that Benengali isn’t the most accurate of historians. But Cervantes does call Benengali an historian—suggesting that Don Quixote/Alonso Quixana was real and that the narrative is a documentary worthy of the regard that we give to things that are real. Later, The story is narrated by ‘Cervantes’—but this time a fictional Cervantes: the meat-world Cervantes’s virtual-reality representation of himself. The SecondLife in-world character ‘Cervantes’ claims he has uncovered the translated manuscripts of Sidi Hamid Benengali and proceeds to tell us the story of Don Quixote, not as Benengali ‘wrote it down’ (because Benengali’s story has errors) but to cure Benengali’s unreliability and fix the errors and fill in the gaps. So by now we have been four times removed from the original author/narrator and nothing—Nothing!—is certain. With Savall’s and Hespèrion XXI’s and Abraham’s added interpretations, make that five times or six times! By this time, Cervantes’s unreliability as a narrator makes us hold in abeyance everything he says; makes us wonder what is reliable, if anything. Click here to have a look at Dissociative Identity Disorder DSM-IV 300.14. Does Cervantes’s familiarity with this psychiatric condition inform the way that he writes what he writes here?

To Cervantes, the world is this multivalent, polysemous, polyphonic, multi-layered, hybridized, impossibly pluralistic thing—very different from the teachings of the Roman Catholic Church at the time. Cervantes tries to link things, to map things (in what some analysts say is a ‘Neoplatonic’ way?)—microcosmos to macrocosmos; explicatio (unfolding) to complicatio ([re-]folding). The ‘Don Quixote’ novel is this way and, musically, ‘Romances y Músicas de Don Quijote’ is this way as well. It is as though it is an early 17th Century mash-up.
I    t has become a commonplace to typify modernity as both intrinsically sociological and reflexive, and to cite modernism’s self-consciousness as one of its direct results... an increased anxiety about what it means to render oneself, and to affect others, narratively. What does it mean to assume (or defy) the responsibilities which storytelling perforce assigns? ... It is the rise of the modern city or the invention of abstract labor by a market-driven economy or the legal and philosophical redefinition of personhood which underpins modern narrative... [In a realist novel] the autonomous individual continues to pursue an idealism he/she recognizes as no longer tenable, positing an immanent ‘return to itself’ in a world permeated by metaphysical homelessness. In contrast, modernist fiction disembeds the self [and substitutes instrumentalizing societal power] and, by abandoning the tempered irony which enables the self to be deployed as a fictive construction in the first place, breaks faith with ‘the only home the novel has ever known’.”
  —  Adam Newton, Narrative Ethics, p. 31.
The mashup juxtaposes conflicts, contradictions, jokes, tensions, post-Reformation accomodations of authority and defiances of authority. We experience blending of Biblical narratives and traditions of Church Fathers, colliding with Islamic/Moorish concepts and tensions ... with the Jewish Conversos culture of Cervantes’s family, with pagan myths, with humor, with post-Copernican science—and with restlessness as a way of modern life.

What I’m saying is that Jordi Savall et al. have concocted far more than a beautiful, historically-informed musical-theatrical production. This is not your typical ‘Early Music’. They are rendering a multi-cultural, post-modern new-music multi-media mashup that concomitantly is authentic Spanish Renaissance early music ... that is to say, a work that’s positively brilliant as post-modern Web 2.0 culture and, as such, is as fresh and radically ‘meta’ as any artistic work you’ll find anywhere. The literary and musical effect is, much as Cervantes once wrote, ‘exemplary’—the elements juxtaposed in this way enable us to contemplate many thoughts, different interpretations, roll them around in our minds. ‘Exemplary’ fictions, told in a light-handed, exemplificatory, ‘meta-meta’ way—the reader-listener turned out on her/his own, to figure out what to make of the mashup’s meaning.

M    enard’s aim was never to produce a mere mechanical transcription of the original ‘Don Quixote’; he did not propose to copy it. His ambition was instead to produce a work that would coincide—word for word, line for line—with those of Miguel de Cervantes... The initial method he conceived was relatively simple: to know Spanish exceedingly well; to re-embrace the Catholic faith; to fight against Moors and Turks; to forget European history between 1602 and 1918; and ultimately to be Miguel de Cervantes... Shall I confess that I often imagine that he finished it and that I am reading Don Quixote—the entire work—as if Menard [Savall] had conceived it? Several nights ago, while leafing through Chapter XXVI—which Menard had never attempted—I recognized our friend’s style and, as it were, his voice in this exceptional phrase: ‘The nymphs of the rivers, mournful and humid Echo’.”
  —  Jorge Luis Borges, Pierre Menard, Author of Don Quixote.
Hespèrion XXI’s account conveys this sort of uncertainty and cross-cultural mashup. The theme of surviving culture wars and other adversities through self-reliance—a [post-]modernistic sense of this is well-represented in these pieces. So also is Cervantes’s rejection of doctrinaire superstition and magic while still nurturing hope in things unseen. Savall and the ensemble musicians deliver animated, convincing performances. And Abraham (perhaps best known for his Academy Award for Best Actor in 1984 for his portrayal of Antonio Salieri in ‘Amadeus’) has stage presence and dramatic skills that are magnetic, riveting—ideally suited to this historically-informed production. The poetic urgency of Abraham’s delivery is wholly compelling, especially when evoking the Renaissance Jesuit’s skeptical regard for faith as a way to explain events in the physical world; when evoking Cervantes’s ironies; when rendering his humor and ruses.

We were 100% captivated by this superb performance—diverted by it, yes, but also led to reflect on the ambiguities and conflicts that the elements that were juxtaposed in the meta-meta-mashup conjure … to decide what they mean for us in the audience, and what they signify to Cervantes and to Jordi and his colleagues. [Jordi’s trick faux-encore to surprise Murray Abraham by having the ensemble sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to him—before the group did their real encore—was a nice, impromptu touch. Abraham was genuinely moved by this gesture, and so, too, were we in the audience. Bravo!]

T    o make the world plausible [the playwright; the composer] has to create someone with a substantial ego, someone who would recognize the existence of many other egos, but subdue them sufficiently by the sheer size of his own generous, charming, overwhelming confidence—someone who would believe himself to be the center of any universe—in other words, an actor. ... Inventing worlds is our stock in trade.”
  —  F. Murray Abraham, Midsummer Night’s Dream: Actors on Shakespeare, p. 2.

I    t seems to me that the situation we find ourselves in today because of fundamental interpretations of religions has steered us into violence, which is what most religions suggest they are against. The point is that it’s not true. If Christians really practiced what Christ suggests, which I believe is great and revolutionary, and if people really followed the tenets of Mohammad, which embraces many religious ideas… But they’re not. … People who are suffering because of religions still cling to their religions. I don’t quite understand that. It’s possible they don’t want to think for themselves. It’s possible they prefer to give over their responsibilities as thinking sentient human beings to some ‘powers that be’, [prefer] to relinquish their responsibilities to their children, their families, their future.”
  —  F. Murray Abraham, interview in Gothamist, 21-APR-2008.


Wednesday, October 1, 2008

Chamber Music for Rome Burning: Brass Band and Pacifism

Foden’s Richardson Band
T he earth died screaming,
While I lay dreaming—
Dreaming of you.”
  —  Tom Waits, ‘Earth Died Screaming’.
I f you’re standing ‘outside’ [the community of brass-band players] looking in, [brass band] music could be misread as being aesthetically naïve. But those composers are fulfilling a function by providing well-crafted scores for a community that really wants them.”
  — Philip Clark, Review of Foden’s Brass Band ‘New Music for Brass Band’ CD, Gramophone, OCT-2008.
You may wonder what exactly Nero played while Rome burned. You may equally well wonder why he played it and what he was thinking and feeling as he did so. Sometimes there’s nothing that one can do. Never mind Nero and his nonfeasance. As the financial markets continue on their incendiary way, may I suggest that you will enjoy the unusual collection of ‘new music’ on the CD just released on NMC Records, by the Foden’s Richardson Brass Band, conducted by Bramwell Tovey? The 30-member ensemble explores fascinating territory that goes far beyond the idioms normally associated with ‘brass band’. And, in a way that I can only regard as ironic or clairvoyant or both, the music is perfectly matched to the ‘tropes’ that are in-play in the world of financial markets and central banking. Here on this superb CD is a kind of emotional catharsis that can only be found in brass band repertoire.

Bramwell Tovey
  • ‘While Rome Burns’ trope
    Something awful is happening. The world is ending, there’s an earthquake, there’re people leaping from buildings, there’s rioting in the streets. The ‘While Rome Burns’ person couldn’t care less. You’re still reading a book, playing or listening to music, posting and looking at blogs, whatever. Not that you approve of what’s going on—far from it; you just see the situation as futile. ‘While Rome Burns’ is the supertrope of ‘Dissonant Serenity’. Compare with ‘Holding Out For A Hero’ trope.
  • ‘Dissonant Serenity’ trope
    There’s maiming and killing afoot. Screaming and cursing, clatter of swords, bang of guns. Faces distorted with pain and hate, collective despair, fear and loathing. It’s terrifying, but it is to be expected. But you see peace in the middle of horror. You are smiling; not vicious, not insane, not stoic—but calm, gentle—almost enlightened. As the throats are slit left and right, you are in the eye of the storm, the calm center of destruction, and your serenity is so ‘off’ that it’s more terrifying than any fury. Villains and heroes can be dissonantly serene in battle mode, but it’s rarely the main character who does that. A closely related state of mind: the uncomprehending ‘Psychopathic Man-child’. The ‘Tranquil Fury’ trope seems similar but is very different in practice.
The Foden Motor Works Band was founded in 1902 and, phoenix-like, it has endured over the years under various and changing sponsorships, including Morris Motors, Overseas Technical Services Ltd., Britannia Building Society, Antoine Courtois Company, and Richardson Developments of Oldbury. To date, the illustrious Foden’s band has won the U.K. National Brass Band Championships twelve times.

This new CD has 14 wonderful tracks, with compositions by Richard Bennett, Kenneth Hesketh, and George Benjamin, Philip Wilby, Elgar Howarth, Michael Ball, Edward Gregson, plus Judith Bingham’s character pieces on Prague (St. Wenceslas Chapel, Wenceslas Square, Charles Bridge, Rabbi Low Creates the Golem). Righteous antidotes to our present societal terror.

Foden’s Richardson Band: New Music for Brass Band
Most interesting to me are the 6 variations on a theme by Michael Tippett—pieces composed by Philip Wilby, Elgar Howarth, Michael Ball, Edward Gregson, and Bramwell Tovey. These meditations reveal the astonishingly wide range of timbres and expressions of which brass band is capable. They reveal a surprising variety of communitarian and pacifistic views, for which Tippett was famous and which the composers of these variations/meditations here have honored. They additionally reveal a phlegmatic, unflappable attitude toward adverse events and toward authorities and elites that resonates deeply with the current state of affairs in the world. Having played in a brass band many years ago, I feel this is characteristic of idiomatic brass band literature—and of brass band members’ sociology and musicianship in-ensemble. Foden’s display this to the nth degree.

N o one could have guessed from looking at the score—and thinking of the thing [dismissively] as a ‘toccata’ for brass band—how beautiful and serious this work is, as abstract music.”
  — George Bernard Shaw, remark to Edward Elgar, upon hearing Elgar’s Severn Suite in competition on 27-SEP-1930.
So turn off the sound on your CNBC or BBC or whatever, and put on this disc at high-volume as you watch the financial catastrophe ‘crawl’ across the bottom of your television screen. Foden’s Richardson Brass Band is just the thing to ‘buck up’ your spirits.

Rome, Burning
During his lifetime Sir Michael Tippett (1905–1998) composed 5 string quartets, 4 piano sonatas, a sonata for 4 horns, and several other chamber works. He also composed a number of oratorios and cantatas. As a composer, Tippett was a late bloomer; he completed his compositions slowly. At age 30, he studied composition with Reginald Owen Morris at the Royal College of Music (after Morris’s return to London from his stint at Curtis Institute in Philadelphia).

Tippett was imprisoned as a conscientious objector/pacifist in WWII. Tippett’s mother was a charity-worker; her influence led him to have a lifelong identification with oppressed people and suffering. Tippett’s gayness probably figured in there as well...

Melismas—ones more ornate than are reasonable or practicable for voice, but entirely feasible for brass—plus rapid mensural/rhythmic changes where the metre is continually cast and recast—outside the norms that are set up in the rest of the work: these are here in abundance.

Mikhail Bakhtin’s dialogical conception of language—conceits like a ‘polyphonic novel’ and ‘double-voiced discourse’? In this wonderful Foden’s Richardson Brass Band CD we find that all of our utterances must be polyglot—syncretisms of every language that we’ve assimilated since birth. Just as the least stable kind of tonality has the strongest anti-tonal tendencies, so the least stable atonality is the kind that’s most inclined to abandon sound-mass totality in favor of a lyrical, neo-tonal individualism. Redefinition, deconstruction, and reconstruction of language out of its ashes. Bingham’s apocalyptic ‘Prague - St Wenceslas Chapel’; Wilby’s elegiac ‘Shadow Songs’.

Brass band repertoire is, I have felt, frequently conflictual—at the boundary of ‘us’ and ‘the other’; the music often explicitly points out this boundary. But brass band music is also frequently pacifistic or communitarian—displaying the emblems of class identity and ‘tutti’ solidarity with community. (Frank Bridge; Benjamin Britten; other pacifists? Granville Bantock; Harrison Birtwistle; Arthur Bliss; Derek Bourgeois; Arthur Butterworth; Simon Dobson; Edward Elgar; Edward Gregson; Hans Werner Henze; Gustav Holst; Herbert Howells; George Lloyd; William Mathias; John McCabe; Edmund Rubbra; Robert Simpson; Phyllis Tate; Ralph Vaughan Williams?) The ensemble may be ‘instrumental’, but its gestures and social behaviors are essentially ‘choral’…

T ippett has everyday words ‘Let’s go!’, sung by the disenfranchised Man and Woman characters, interrupting the madrigalian setting of lines borrowed from Milton’s Paradise Lost (‘This was the everlasting place of dreams.’). [And Tippett’s compositions for brass came from the same pen and they manifest this same world view. dsm].”
  — David Clarke, Music and Thought of Michael Tippett, p. 162.
As Julian Johnson has written, the Enlightenment, which conferred autonomy on humans, also produced a “model of man that was cut-off from the world around him,” alienated “by the mechanistic and atomistic implications of Enlightenment theory.” Was Tippett cut off? (Am I feeling [financially] ‘cut off’? Is brass band repertoire necessarily the language of aesthetically capable phlegmatic stalwarts?)

David Clarke (see book links below) holds that Michael Tippett was composing in a post-Enlightenment mode, embracing a ‘romantic, humanistic agenda’ not unlike that of Kant, Hegel, and other philosophers who aimed to restore a oneness with Nature. But Tippett, according to Clarke, also engaged in life-long relentless self-criticism and, in his operas and other compositions, created parts that enabled ‘post-humanist’ voices to speak—uniquely highlighting the limitations and failures of romanticism. Tippett repeatedly collides classical ideals with materialist realities.

Music historian Arnold Whittall once referred to Tippett as a ‘post-romantic modern’ (‘Is there a choice at all?: King Priam and motives for analysis,’ in Tippett Studies, Cambridge Univ, 2006, p. 77). But, in this Foden’s-Bramwell Tovey outing, maybe Tippett is closer to a ‘post-modern anti-romantic’. Yes, that is why this music feels so compelling, so poignant and timely right now.

W   hile we would need to be cautious about positing a postmodern dimension to Tippett’s thinking, the kind of connections I have been exploring [in this book] suggest that the aesthetic mutations of his late works are not unrelated to certain of the more radical and fruitful avenues of that problematic cultural paradigm.”
  —  David Clarke, Music and Thought of Michael Tippett, p. 269.
What especially pleases me in listening to this CD during this awful, catastrophic week are these works’ expression of an ineffable soundworld that is simultaneously tonal and post-tonal—full of melodic tonal writing, but with fragmentation, textural strata, and purpose-built melodic disjunctions that match my dark mood—miraculously healing it. There are ruptures with the premises of tonality, but the departures from tonality turn out not to be permanent—they eventually return us to orderly, diatonic lyricism. So, by implication, we sense that, regardless what happens to our collieries in one decade, our motor works in another decade, our financial institutions and markets in this decade, our cities, our governments, our environment, and so on in future decades—human beings (and brass bands, and the arts, and civilized culture in general) will somehow survive.

Up-coming performances by Foden’s Richardson Brass Band include:
David Clarke, Tippett book

Emperor Nero (U.S. Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson, after The Fall?)


Thursday, July 3, 2008

Patricia Kopatchinskaja & Friends: Tigran Mansurian’s Four Serious Songs

 Patricia Kopatchinskaja, performing barefoot at St. Brendan’s
F  or that which befalleth the sons of men befalleth beasts also.
Even one thing befalleth them all;
The one dieth, so dieth the other,
Yea, they have all one breath so that a man has no preeminence above a beast,
For all is vanity.
All go unto one place;
All are of the dust,
And all return to dust again.”
  —  Ecclesiastes 3:19-22.
Last night violinist Patricia Kopatchinskaja gave a brilliant Irish premier performance of the 2006 concerto by composer Tigran Mansurian entitled ‘Four Serious Songs’.

    Four Serious Songs (vioin concerto, after Brahms, Vier ernste Gesänge, Op. 121)
  • For that which befalleth (Eccl. 3:19-22), 6-min
  • So I returned and considered all the oppressions (Eccl. 4:1-3), 7-min
  • O Death, how bitter is the remembrance of thee to a man that lives in his possessions (Eccl. 41:1-2), 2-min
  • I am become as sounding brass or a tinkling cymbal (1 Cor 13:1-3,12-13), 5-min
This concerto is way beyond ‘serious’: it is full-blown tragedy. The first movement is haunted with foreboding: ominous half-note chromatics in the double-bass and eery glisses in the other strings. The second movement is hemmed-in, expectant of the unrelenting oppressions that the Ecclesiastes text suggests. The third movement is genuinely bitter, more or less renouncing the rest of humanity in its addiction to materialistic pursuits; defiant strings give an angry-despondent recitative.

Finally, the concluding fourth movement: in the beginning, it is ethereal, vaporescent. Violins and violas in ultra-high registers; close encounters at the upper extremities of their fingerboards. The cellos hold forth with whisperings that emulate a cold wind, utterly heartless—strings damped by the fingers so as to produce a pitchless sound, gray noise of the bow drawn lightly, on-edge against the string. Law of the Universe, the die has been cast; things in motion tend to stay (heartlessly) in motion; no reprieves. A more desolate, time-beyond-humankind effect would be hard to imagine.

Then the strings, together as a choir, respond in a subdued major key. Maybe there is hope after all, for humans and for other species as well…

But, no, it’s not to be. The major-key chordal writing gives way to impassioned, violent atonal passages and a resolution in a dour, uncertain minor. Agonal gasps; the length of the bow is consumed, millisecond by millisecond: kinesthetically an analogue of lung capacity, the bow with its limits to inspiration (up-bow) and expiration (down-bow). Struggling for breath, exhausting what little is left of the length of your bow-stroke. All species may go down together, but that does not mean that no one is guilty, that no one is to blame for this destruction. We humans are irredeemably at fault: thus spake the prophet Mansurian.

 St. Brendan’s, Bantry, Co. Cork, Ireland
Kopatchinskaja’s treatment was superb. The bare feet under Patricia’s red gown were a bit unconventional, although I can readily understand how the sensation of the cold floor under the soles and toes may be crucial to informing her interpretation. If one wants to be forcibly grounded in the decumbent, ascetic, prostratory mood of this apocalyptic ecopolitical Mansurian piece, then one should play one’s violin barefoot on a cold floor in an old, cold church!

 St. Brendan the Navigator
Kopatchinskaja has recently served as guest director and soloist with the Australian Chamber Orchestra. She was born in Moldova.

 Tigran Mansurian
Born in Beirut in 1938, in 1947 Mansurian’s family moved to Armenia. Mansurian took his PhD at the Yerevan State Musical Conservatory where he later taught contemporary music analysis. Now prominent among Armenian composers, Mansurian’s output includes orchestral works, seven concerti for strings and orchestra, sonatas for cello and piano, three string quartets, madrigals, chamber music and works for solo instruments.

 Patricia Kopatchinskaja
  • Violins: Katherine Hunka, Karl Sweeney, Róisin Walters, Ionana Petcu-Colan, Maria Ryan, David O Leary, Siún Milne
  • Violas: Joachim Roewer, Ruth Gibson, Lucy Nolan
  • Cellos: Eoin Quinlan, Peggy Nolan
  • Double-bass: Malachy Robinson

 Durrus, County Cork