jwilzewske: lieder

Showing posts with label lieder. Show all posts

Thursday, May 17, 2012

MUS-501 final exam question: Late Schumann Lieder were hip-hop anthems. Evidence? Discuss.

I n 1989’s ‘Fight the Power’, Public Enemy’s Chuck D spits a working definition of rhyme’s reason: ‘As the rhythm’s designed to bounce / What counts ... is that the rhyme’s / Designed to fill your mind.’ He is speaking of ‘rhyme’ here both as the practice of patterning sounds and as a name for the verse as a whole. In both meanings, rap’s rhymes have filled our minds with many things, not all of them good. But it is more than a matter of content—be it women and cars or prisons with bars; it is also a question of poetic form.”
— Adam Bradley, p. 55.

T he prominence of dark themes in Schumann’s lieder in 1851 and later, featuring violent language and desultory circumstances and the characters’ defiant reactions to them, is strong evidence in favor of this thesis. Likewise, there is a radically different relationship between the music and the text compared to Schumann’s earlier lieder: in the late lieder there is a much stronger emphasis on syllabic stresses, on rhyme, and on systolic pulsatility of the voice strongly sync’ed to the instrumental beat. Schumann’s settings of Kullmann poems especially are, essentially, rap over music.

D ominated by the energy of insistent repetition—from perfect rhymes to assonance and consonance—delivering on the promise... apocopated rhymes, where a one-syllable word rhymes with the stressed portion of a multisyllabic word. He matches the first line’s monosyllabic internal rhymes ‘last’ and ‘blast’ with an apocopated rhyme ‘fastball’ on the next line. He does the same thing in reverse with another rhyme as well—using ‘hit’ to rhyme with ‘splitter’. This creates a structure that binds the two lines together... almost every word is doing some kind of rhyme work... using rhyme to fashion rhythm.”
— Adam Bradley, p. 62.

Und die mich trug im Mutterarm	And she who carried me in arms
Und die mich schwang in Kissen	And rock me in the nest
Die war ein schön, froh, braunes Weiß	She was beautiful, happy, *red*—hot—but
Wollte nichts vom Mannsvolk wissen	She never want to mess
Sie scherzte nur und lachte laut	‘Round... She only joke and laugh,
Und liess die Freier stehen.	Dissin’ those who hit on her.
„Möcht’ lieber sein des Windes Braut	“I’d rather be fucked by da wind
Als in die Ehe geh’n!”	Than have sex with any of you!”
Da kam der Wind, da nahm der Wind	And dat wind came, and dat wind chose,
Als Buhle sie gefangen,	And beat her and rape her too,
Von dem hat sie ein lustig Kind,	And that how she birthed me, packin’ heat.
Jung Volker, mich, empfangen.	Know dis: Jung Volker is my name.
—Eduard Mörike (1804-1875)	Op. 125, No. 4 (1851)

P ianist Graham Johnson maintains that Dichterliebe (Op. 48) contains what is arguably “the nearest thing in lieder to the modern phenomenon of ‘rap’ ” (liner notes to Vol 3, Hyperion CDA67676, pp. 101-2, specifically regarding ‘Ein Jüngling liebt ein Mädchen’, No. 11, a song about a young man’s rejection by the woman he loves). In my opinion, dubstep is the sound that Schumann was going for, instead of brostep. And a ducking ‘pump’ sound that you hear in techno and electro that comes from side-chaining. That and electro house drums. Kind of a ‘dark garage’ hip-hop dubstep with kicked-up bass. The late lieder would be great with custom Ableton controllers for that sound. Don’t get that on no Hyperion CD, though!

C ogan’s timbral reading of a piece is informed by the words sung in the performance. In his ‘Sounds of Song’, Cogan compares spectrographs of four recordings of Robert Schumann’s ‘Ich hab’ im Traum geweinet,’ a song he describes as ‘always obsessive, but uncertain, lost — quite literally traumatic.’ ”
— Smith Reed, Univ Pittsburgh, 2005.

Der leidige Frieden	Peace make me nervous,
Hat lange gewährt—	It last too long—
Wir waren geschieden,	We ‘part for weeks,
Mein gutes Schwert!	My blade, its song!
Derweil ich gekostet	Down in the cellar
Im Keller den Wein—	I drink dat wine—
Hingst du verrostet	You hanging rusty
An der Wand allein.	By the wall, bidin’ your time.
Von Sorte zu Sorte	Each juice
Probiert’ ich den Wein—	I tasted when my turn to—
Indessen dorrte:	Meantime, dat blood:
Das Blut dir ein.	It’s dried on *you*.
Ist endlich entglommen	Battle when you right
Der heisse Streit,	Ain’t no crime—
Mein Schwert, und gekommen	Blade, here comes
Ist dein Zeit.	Your thirsty time.
Ich geb’ deiner Klingen,	Wipe some more,
Den blanken Schliff:	You bright, smooth steel:
Ich lasse dich singen	I let you rap
Den Todespfiff.	Your deadly spiel.
Im Pulvernebel	In gunpowder haze
Die Arbeit rauscht—	You slash, rip steep—
Wir haben, o Säbel,	You ’n’ me, Blade,
Die Freuden getauscht.	We put ’em all deep.
Im brausenden Moste,	In foamin’ wine,
Mein durstiges Erz	Blade thirsty and smart,
Betrinke dich, koste	Drink deep and taste
Von Herz zu Herz;	From heart to heart;
Derweil du gekostet	While you’ve been tastin’
Das rote Blut,	Your crimson blood,
Is mir eingerostet,	My throat—it’s parched,
Der Hals vor Glut.	Waitin’ for a flood.
—Nikolaus Lenau (1802-1850)	Op. 117, No. 2 (1851)

O bscure poems that portray dysfunctional or oppressive gender relations, cars and money or jewels, and weapons—a throw-away objectification of people and ‘live-for-the-moment’ violent materialism—are also characteristic of these late Schumann lieder, in a fashion that presages modern hip-hop themes and postures. Braggadocio and lyrics that proclaim the singer’s greatness—these appear in Op. 117, Op. 104, and others.

W hile rap may be new-school music, it is old-school poetry. Rather than resembling the dominant contemporary form of free verse—or even the freeform structure of its hip-hop cousin, spoken word, or slam poetry—rap bears a stronger affinity to some of poetry’s oldest forms, such as strong-stress meter of ‘Beowulf’. As in metrical verse, the lengths of rap’s lines are governed by established rhythms—in rap’s case, the rhythm of the beat itself.”
— Adam Bradley, p. xv.

Du nennst mich armes Mädchen	“Po’ ho’,” you call me;
Du irrst! Ich bin nicht arm!	You full o’ shit! I’m not po’!
Entress dich, Neugier halber,	Wake up, you pimp,
Einmal des Schlafes Arm und schau’	from yo’ drunk-ass sleep,
Mein niedres Hüttchen	An’ look at my mansion
Wenn sich die Sonne	Wit da paradise sunrise
Hold am Morgenhimmel hebet:	When da morning sun come to me:
Sein Dach ist reines Gold!	Dat roof is pure gold!
Komm’ Abends, wann die Sonne,	Or come in da evening when da sun,
Bereits zum Meere sinkt,	Sinking in da sea,
Und sieh’ mein einzig Fenster,	See only my window,
Wie’s von Topasen blinkt!	Sparklin’ wit da topaz jewelz!
Du nennst mich armes Mädchen	“Po’ ho’,” you call me;
Du irrst! Ich bin nicht arm!	You full o’ shit! I’m not po’!
—Elisabeth Kuhlmann (1808-1824)	Op. 104, No. 3 (1851)

E mblematic of all rap music is constructing an image of power through gestural cues, which may be in the words or the music or both. The cues include punched-up rhythms and phrases about money, expensive clothing, jewelry, killing and dying, and going places and doing things. Late Schumann lieder got those!

T he situational exigencies of late Schumann lieder are accessible to anyone whose mind is open, and are not dependent on exterior markers for their manifestation. Instead, they are rooted in demonstrating values in interacting with others—values such as defiance, aggression, and action; support, mutuality, and reflection—‘power over’; ‘power with’. Don’t need no fancy or subtle analysis to identify features of hip-hop in late Schumann. Jus’ need to open our minds to the sonic and textual evidence that’s right there in front of us.

T wo hundred years ago popular music and art music were joined at the hip. Beethoven’s works and the birth of the Romantic Era coincided with the rise of the middle classes. Franz Schubert and Robert Schumann composed lieder that could be sung and played in the home by amateur musicians. At the same time that the middle classes expanded, they received a more formalized and substantial education and formulated an idea of art and music. The masses were able to sing and play music that did not require the same technical ability as music that one would ﬁnd in the concert hall, but was more suited for the salon. The music was ‘attainable’, and it featured poetic verses with melodies that were relatively easy to sing.”
— Gabe Kanengiser.

Monday, April 23, 2012

Sex, Lies, and Music: Schumann’s Poet-Lover Alter-Ego

D ichterliebe’, the title chosen or accepted by Schumann for his choice of Heine’s texts, involves a double-meaning. Schumann the composer-poet found in the poems evidence that their protagonist is a poet-composer: one who is inspired by bird-song (No. 1), one whose sighs become nightingales (No. 2), one who inspires the lily to sing (No. 5), one who dreams magical fairy-music (No. 15), and one who finally buries all his songs at sea (No. 16). That persona, originally Heine’s surrogate [was embraced by Schumann as his own surrogate]... For the purposes of the poems, Heine spoke through the role of the unhappy Dichter; for the purposes of the songs, Schumann transformed that figure into a Dichter of his own.”
— Edward T. Cone, ‘Poet’s love or composer’s love?’, in Steven Paul Scher, Chapter 10.

T he relation between Schumann and poetry is pretty revealing,” said pianist and long-time chamber music presenter Cynthia Siebert at a recent dinner party. “It is? How is it revealing and what is it that’s revealed?” I wondered. The conversation proceeded off in other directions. But my curiosity was piqued! Challenge accepted!

M usic theorist/pianist/composer Edward Cone wrote 20 years ago that Robert Schumann’s Dichter (poet) is dramatically different from Heinrich Heine’s Dichter. According to Cone, Schumann’s Dichter chooses music as the primary means of expression while words are secondary.

B ut the music depends on the other. The piano is inseparable from the vocal melody and the words. The piano persists in completing the voice’s unfinished cadences in No. 2, with the prolongation of each B. Every B, relinquished by the voice, resounds briefly before it resolves to A. The same prolongation-resolution motif appears also in No. 3.

N o. 4 has piano doubling the voice, and the two parts alternately imitate each other—a kind of counterpoint that might either suggest the complete co-dependent behavior of both, or the deliberate independence of each from the other. The rhetorical reversals [“He went to the country; to the town went she.”] are chiasmic: miniature embodiments of musical absorption of two-into-one where the two quasi-orgasmic experiences paradoxically highlight the separateness of the two at the peak of their union.

N o. 7 has voice and piano extensively doubling each other throughout—a kind of lovemaking or lovers’ dance. The voice is “on top” or leads through most of the song, but the piano is the one whose outburst at the climax has the voice in an inner or lower position.

M ost subtle in the ‘interpenetration’ of voice and accompaniment is the very first song of the cycle, which sets the tone for all that follows. The doubling is delicately heterophonic—as when the voice, but not the piano, anticipates the resolution of a suspension; or when the piano, but not the voice, remains suspended; or when the voice, after inserting an appoggiatura, resolves a suspension. The effect is the kind of blurring that might result if the piano could pedal the vocal line, treating the voice as a strand of the piano texture [and subduing it, see m.4, image above].”
— Edward T. Cone, ‘Poet’s love or composer’s love?’, in Steven Paul Scher, Chapter 10.

I look up the date and see that Dichterliebe, Op. 48, was composed in 1840, when Schumann was 30 years old, the year he and Clara at long last became married, against her father’s will. Susan Youens and others see nothing too subtle about the motivations and construction of Dichterliebe:

T he persona sings of his tears and sighs transforming themselves into [sprouting, turgid] floral offerings and love’s nightingales in ‘Aus meinen Tränen spriessen’; he sings in hectic, [pumping] alliterative excess of ‘die Kleine, die Feine, die Reine, die Eine’ in ‘Die Rose, die Lilie, die Taube, die Sonne’; and finds that he cannot trust the beloved’s words of love in ‘Wenn ich in deine Augen seh’.’ In ‘Ich will meine Seele tauchen,’ the persona longs to submerge his soul in the lily’s chalice. That this is a sublimation of sexual imagery is evident in the post-coital sobbing in the piano at the end.”
— Susan Youens, Carnegie Hall program notes, 2010.

T here are 14 excellent essays on music-text relationships in the multi-author volume edited by Steven Paul Scher (link below), including several that address music-text manifestations in Schumann’s compositions. Juicy bedtime reading!

Saturday, November 26, 2011

Celebrating Advent & Christmas: Trumpet-Organ Duos

W hile rotary valve trumpets are not strictly speaking historical but rather contemporary brass instruments, trumpet players have in recent years increasingly been using these instruments for all of the Austro-German classical and romantic repertoire from Mozart and Haydn to Bruckner and Mahler... While the use of rotary valve instruments is certainly not historically accurate for the classical and early romantic natural trumpet orchestral literature, many conductors and players seem to feel that the tapered attack and warmer tone quality of these instruments is better suited to the modern performance of natural trumpet parts than the more brilliant and incisive piston valve instrument. There is no question, however, that the rotary valve trumpet is the stylistically appropriate and historically authentic instrument for the late 19th and early 20th century Germanic repertory.”
— David H. Green.

T he Advent program at Annakirche in Vienna last night was excellent.

S tefan Fleißner (trpt) and Reinhard Schobesberger (organ) performed a 1-hour program for a delighted audience that completely filled the pews. The trumpet-organ duo works included arrangements of a number of Marienlieder, plus a variety of contemporary Christmas carols, plus the following:

Clarke – Trumpet Fanfare, Prinz von Dänemark Marsch
Haydn – Andante, Trumpet Concerto in E-flat major
Marcello – Concerto in D minor
Schubert – Ave Maria
Telemann – Trumpet Concerto in D major
Bach – ‘Jesu Joy of Man’s Desiring’, from Cantata ‘Herz und Mund und Tat und Leben’, BWV 147
Torelli – Sinfonia in D major

I ’ve been in Wien for 7 days, and have attended the Staatsoper, the Wien Philharmoniker, Wien Kammerorchester, Theater an der Wien opera, and various other music events—and I have yet to see a single piston-valved trumpet. Not one. The only thing that anybody uses over here are rotary-valve instruments. Their timbre is very round, full, and capable of a legato sound like nothing else—not as ‘dark’ as a flugelhorn, though, and not as breathy.

T he rotary-valve keys have a shorter ‘throw’ (about 1 cm) than piston-valved instruments, so fingering of rapid passages may, in general, be a bit faster on these instruments, compared to on a conventional piston-valved trumpet. Other biomechanics advantages are mentioned by trumpet players who prefer these rotary-valve designs, including better symmetry between left-hand/arm and right-hand/arm musculature, in terms of holding the instrument… no brass crook for the right-hand “pinky,” and therefore no big forces on that little finger to get transmitted into the lumbricals of the other fingers of that hand; no tension in the left-hand; etc.

T he legato playing of Fleißner was superb throughout. Gorgeous, both in the sacred music and in the secular pieces.

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Art Song, Youth, and Omniscience: Stephen Costello, Tenor, & Danielle Orlando, Piano

W hen I decided to go for vocal music in college, I didn’t know what I wanted to do. I was afraid of classical music. I didn’t understand it because of the languages. It seemed really long—like a lot of work, and everyone was singing all the time. Plus, how do you memorize all that music, right? [A chorus of nods around the table.] I was into Broadway music for a while, but you know that whole ‘dancing’ thing didn’t work for me. [Laughter by other interviewees, at Costello’s dry delivery and self-effacing humor.] So I auditioned at AVA. There was something that the maestro saw that was very raw, which he really liked. Teachers can work with it and develop you, so I decided to go... It was kind of overwhelming at first. I think I was the only one at the school who had never sung a complete operatic role before. To be with these people who have sung two or three or more roles—it was intimidating! But, no matter: just dive into it and work your ass off. For me, if I hadn’t had music in my life during my public school system days, I don’t know what I’d be doing right now. I don’t know if I would have gone to college. No one in my family went to college. Through music, I made connections in school that helped me excel in places I wasn’t the most comfortable with.”
— Stephen Costello, interview with Marilee Vergati, Dallas Examiner, 05-NOV-2010.

T he synergies between Stephen Costello’s tenor voice and Danielle Orlando’s piano last night were incredible.

Verdi - Questa o quella (Rigoletto)
Liszt - Tre sonetti di Petrarca, S. 270
Rossini – La danza
Lehár – Dein ist mein ganzes Herz
Quilter – Drink to me only with thine eyes
Quilter – Over the mountain
Traditional – Danny Boy, arr. Brodszky
Brodszky – I’ll walk with God
Tosti – Non t’amo più
Tosti – A vucchella
Tosti – Pierrot’s Lament
Tosti – Goodbye
Tosti – Ideale
Tosti – Aprile

O rlando’s piano provided poignant contrast and astringency to counterbalance Costello’s warm singing. The effect was like that of a third-person omniscient narrator in a novel. Orlando’s piano: theotic; godlike; expressing an all-knowing perspective; telling us listeners things that the main character, Costello, does not know—things that that few mortals (or none) can fully know—the meaning of Life; the mystical depth and transcendence of True Love—short of attaining Buddhahood or assumption into Heaven. Through the piano, we appreciate what the human species feels like and how much we humans stand yet to learn, as this young male exemplar sings his account of, say, what Tosti says ‘Love’s Gift’ is. The almighty Piano has seen it all and knows Everything. The mortal singer is earnest and true, but has only learnt as much as his youth has so far afforded opportunities for him to experience.

T he whole program was excellent, but the Tosti pieces were especially interesting. So I go and read Francesco Sanvitale’s biography of Tosti (link below), to try to figure out why these compositions fascinate me so. Francesco Paolo Tosti was from Ortona, a town of 11,000 in Adriatic mid-coastal Italy. He was born in April 1846, the youngest of 9 children. He attended the Conservatorio di Napoli when he was twelve, studied violin with Pinto, and went on to become a gifted violinist and teacher as well as achieving fame and wealth as a singer, attracted royal sponsorship and employments, and enabled his success as a composer. He lived in Rome from 1870 through 1874 and was teacher to Princess Margherita of Savoy before moving to London in 1875 where he served as singing master to Queen Victoria’s kids. Tosti figured prominently with the Ricordi publishing house, who published all of Tosti’s art songs except for a few released by Thomas Patey Chappell & Frank Chappell (Chappell & Co) and Emile Enoch (Enoch & Sons) in London. In all, Tosti composed more than 400 works, including some that are way-droll or humorous—comedic in their coupling a jocular text with a ‘formal’ setting or delivery.

S ignor Tosti is an agreeable and amiable composer. He has discovered the great weakness of the English for sentimental songs, and his ‘For Ever and For Ever’ is massacred in every schoolroom and drawing-room in the British Isles.”
— Vanity Fair, 14-NOV-1885.

B ut for all his outward humor and public drollery, we know that Tosti suffered from angina for a number of years. Early letters suggest that his cardiac symptoms began in his mid-30’s. He died of a heart attack at age 70, on 02-DEC-1916 at the Hotel Excelsior in the via Veneto in Rome. Possibly it was the recurrent cardiac reminders of his mortality and the chest pain dogging him through his productive middle age that imbued these piano parts with poignancy and paradoxical ‘omniscience’.

T his song ‘Aprile’ was one of two Romanze that Tosti wrote in 1882, when he was 36 (‘Aprile’ was in October and ‘Ideale’ was completed in December).

N on senti tu ne l’aria—
il profumo che spande Primavera?
Non senti tu ne l’anima—
il suon de nova voce lusinghiera?
È l’April! È la stagion d’amore!
Deh! vieni, o mia gentil su’ prati’n fiore!

Il piè trarrai fra mammole,
avrai su’l petto rose e cilestrine;
e le farfalle candide
t’aleggeranno intorno al nero crine.
È l’April! È la stagion d’amore!
Deh! vieni, o mia gentil su’ prati’n fiore!

[Do you not smell the air—
the perfume of Spring?
Do you not hear the soul—
the sound of a new, enchanting voice?
Welcome, April, season of Love!
Ah! Come, my dear! Here, on this grass and on my flowers!

The feet will tread among violets,
while at your breast petals of rose and pale blue cavort;
and white butterflies
hover amorously around your adorable high black ponytail.
Hi-ho, April, season of Love!
Ah! Come, sprawl gently on my lawn and these here flowers!]”
— Francesco Paolo Tosti, ‘Aprile’, text by Rocco E. Pagliara.

C ostello excels when he’s portraying human emotions at their extremes and most over-the-topness. The program last night provided opportunities to sing with candor, lust, longing, righteous youthful enthusiasm, loss, and sorrow. (As he enters at least into his 30’s, he will be able to more fully inhabit roles that are propelled by greed, malice, deception, jaded cynicism, illness, and depression?)

T he Italian lyrics for ‘Aprile’: far more sensuous and suggestive than the standard English translation. Costello captures this and nails it.

A fter the voice enters, the piano either supports the melodic line or intervenes during the vocal part’s rests and ‘volumizes’ the production at the cadences. Sometimes the piano modestly doubles the melodic line—a gesture that is prominent at the end of the first stanza and becomes more so—more insistently so—in the second one. The effect welds the timbre of the piano to the tenor melody. The orchestration and this emphatic gesture is, surely, part of the ‘melodramatic school’ of Tosti’s late-19th Century training.

N o mere accompanist, Orlando had as many great ‘lines’ as Costello, and she delivered them with great ‘sparkle and wit and wry social commentary’. Her brilliant performance reminded us of how spoiled we can be with truly great collaborative piano.

T he vocal writing is syllabic and, apart from the ‘Ah!’s and ‘Oh!’s and other spots where the text doesn’t have to be intelligible per se, Tosti indulges the singer and the listener by spinning out highly-embellished fioritura passages and small-scale vocalizations that are plain fun to sing (and to listen to), as well as vehicles for displaying the technical prowess of the singer. The piano part offers its own sort of ‘fioratura’ opportunities, which Orlando executes with perfect poise—with godlike virtuosity that is not anxious to prove its divinity and never steals the show from the vocalist.

W hat I mean is—the supreme ‘omniscience’ of Orlando’s narratorly interpretations was not so astringent as to be indifferent toward mortals, toward the singer. When you, a poor mortal singer, need something; when your prayerful glance meets hers, she can be relied upon to bless you and keep you; to make Her face to shine down upon you and be gracious unto you. She lifteth up Her countenance upon you and giveth you peace. As collaborative piano goes, Orlando is one hell of a kindly personal god, one Who does not hesitate to answer urgent prayers and intervene from time to time in the still-young world below.

T he blessings of The Piano—spiritual (Nerves!); physical (Memory!)—ought never to be taken for granted. And so it came to pass at the conclusion of the recital Costello offered a heart-felt benediction, one that recognized the Pianistic source of all good things and of salvation itself.

A nd we were lifted up, and went forth! Nunc dimittis servum tuum, Domina, quia viderunt oculi mei salutare tuum quod parasti ante faciem omnium populorum, lumen ad revelationem gentium. Artsong and opera without end, Amen!

B orn in Philadelphia in 1982, Costello is a 2007 graduate of the Academy of Vocal Arts (AVA). Costello is the recipient of the 2009 Richard Tucker Award. Additionally, he won First Prize in the 2006 George London Foundation Competition, First Prize and Audience Prize in AVA’s Giargiari Competition, and First Prize in the Licia Albanese-Puccini Foundation Competition. Costello has established himself as one of the current generation’s most impressive artists, with a prolific schedule of performances both in the U.S. and throughout Europe.

O rlando began her piano studies at the Settlement Music School in Philadelphia and continued at the Eastman School of Music. She earned a Master of Music in Piano Performance at Temple University. She currently serves as Master Coach on the music faculty of The Academy of Vocal Arts and is currently the Principal Opera Coach at the Curtis Institute of Music. Ms. Orlando collaborated for many years with Luciano Pavarotti as accompanist, judge, and artistic coordinator for all of the Luciano Pavarotti International Voice Competitions. Additionally, she spent nine seasons with the Festival dei Due Mondi in Spoleto, Italy, as the Artistic Coordinator and Coach for the operas, in addition to editing and arranging some of the compositions and performing recitals with the Festival.

Sunday, November 7, 2010

Nash Ensemble: Beethoven and the Russians

C hamber music was considered by more narrowly nationalistic musicians to be too ‘academic’, too ‘Germanic’, to deserve a place in Russian [musical canon] at all. When Borodin started work on the first of his quartets in 1875, he wrote to a friend, referring to the nationalist critic of the time as well as to the leading nationalist composer, that ‘to Stassov’s and Mussorgsky’s horror, I have sketched a string quartet’.”
— Anthony Burton, Nash Ensemble program notes, 2010.

M embers of the Nash Ensemble gave a thoroughly compelling performance last night at Wigmore Hall. Stephanie Gonley (vn) was superb, as were David Adams (vn), Lawrence Power (vla), Philip Dukes (vla), Paul Watkins (vc), Alice Neary (vc), mezzo Christine Rice, and pianist Susanna Stranders.

W hat striking sonorities the 2 cellos achieve in the Arensky String Quartet in A minor, Op. 35! I’d never heard this work before (unique for its 1 vn, 1 vla, 2 vc orchestration), but, after hearing Nash members perform it, I can only say that, if you intend to create astounding Elegiosity, go for the 2 cellos!

A rensky composed this unusual piece in 1894 as a memorial to his teacher, Tchaikowsky. This was when Arensky was just 33, a short while after Tchaikowsky’s death. The first movement has all the strings with their mutes on—great to hear in an intimate hall like Wigmore, up-close. The A minor theme is taken from ancient Russian Orthodox sacred music—a setting of some psalm or other. The middle section is in A Major; then the psalm theme again, back to the minor, finishing the movement.

T he second movement is comprised of 7 variations on a children’s song by Tchaikovsky, ‘When Jesus Christ was still a child.’ The elaborateness of the 9 minutes of variations upon variations suggests feverish, obsessive grieving. Then the muted 3-minute coda at the end of this movement evokes ancient Russian chant or possibly other archaic atmospherics that would be primevally familiar to Russians. Poignant ‘leave-taking’ as the Nash’s program notes have it. The emotive material in here is amazingly effective even on the limbic systems of us non-Russians… traps like this do not require ‘bait’ to work.

K ravitsa rïbachka!
Prav k beregu ladyu
I vïd, I syad so mnoyu,
Day ruku mne svoyu.

Bolovku mne na serdtse
Bez strakha polozhi.
Morskim volnam bespechno
V veryayesha zhe tï.

A serdtse to zhe more:
To buri v nyoem, to tish,
I mnogo perlov chudnïkh
Sokrïto v glubi.

[Lovely bassin’ gal!
Steer your bass boat to this shore;
Come and sit with me;
Give me your hand.

Lay your head right here,
And don’t be afraid.
Trust me just as much as you trust yourself, heh,
Daily, to those waves there.

My heart is like the sea, you betcha:
It can be calm or choppy,
And lots o’ big pearls
Are hidden in them depths.]”
— D. Kropotkin, after Heinrich Heine.

T he third movement Andante sostenuto tugs on our heartstrings yet more and is followed by Allegro moderato finale, which has fugal structure and develops the nationalistic Russian hymn ‘Slava Bogu na nebe, Slava’ [Слава Богу, на небе! Слава!] (Glory to God in heaven! Glory!), which is found also in the Allegretto of Beethoven’s Quartet Op. 59 No. 2.

F rom a performer’s point of view, this Arensky Quartet is special in another respect: the ‘dialogical’ interactions between the parts have tremendous symmetry or parity in terms of technical and expressive challenges… All of the parts are exciting all of the time, and, despite this surfeit of interesting material, the pungency of so exceedingly much being said miraculously doesn’t tax the listener or undermine the credibility of the memorial. It’s emotionally ‘over-the-top’ in a quintessentially ‘Russian’ style but it never becomes pastiche. Fantastic!

Arensky – String Quartet No. 2 in A minor, Op. 35
Borodin – Songs with cello obbligato (Razliubila krasna-devitsa [‘Beautiful girl fell out of love’]; Slushaite, podruzhen'ki, pesenku moiu [‘Listen, my friends, to my song’]; Krasavitsa-rybachka [‘Beautiful fisher-girl’]
Tchaikovsky – Night, Op. 73 No.2
Rachmaninov –The Ring, Op. 26 No.7; To the Children, Op. 26 No.14
Tchaikovsky – Andante Cantabile from String Quartet No. 1 in D, Op. 11
Beethoven – String Quintet in C, Op. 29

T his program is one in a series that Nash Ensemble have prepared, illustrating the connections between Beethoven and Russian composers.

C hristine Rice’s account of the Borodin folk songs with Paul Watkins’s cello and Susanna Stranders’s piano was superb, drawing shouts and prolonged raucous applause from the normally-reserved Wigmore Hall audience. Her rich, expressive voice and spell-binding operatic gestures abundantly conveyed the passion and desolation—the authentic ethnic Russian sensibility of these lieder.

I t was a surprise to me to learn that the ‘Mighty Five’ or Balakirev group of 19th Century Russian composers took a dim view of ‘chamber music’—they severely criticized Borodin, for example, for engaging in such a diminutive and ‘academic’ genre [see Podlech, link below]. Well, last night—with the ample sound from the Nash members and the exceedingly wide dynamic range that they lent to their interpretation—we experienced a sonorous and strong ‘orchestral’ feel, even in the ‘smaller’ chamber pieces.

C annot help but think that the ‘Mighty Five’ would’ve amended their opinions about chamber idioms had they heard so mighty an ensemble as the Nash. Wow!

W hen Alexander was 9 years old, Borodin’s mother was seriously alarmed by his chemical experiments, fearing that her house would be set on fire. Not all his experiments were as harmless as his self-made watercolors, which he used for painting. The incendiary bombs he made in the basement were a particular worry for his parents.”
— Joachim Podlech.

Sunday, October 24, 2010

What can I do for Halloween that will be short but scary? I have a pretty good baritone/bass voice but not much time to prepare something.

Y ou might consider emulating “Fright Night” chamber performances, which have been part of Ottawa’s ChamberFest for the past several years, with bass Robert Pomakov performing Mussorgsky’s ‘Songs and Dances of Death’ [Песни и пляски смерти; Pesni i plyaski smerti] with pianist Valerie Dueck.

P omakov’s theatrical personality is perfect for this, and maybe yours is as well. He advises adopting a Rasputin-like alter-ego. In his own performances, he uses an extended range of dynamics, from softer pianissimos to louder-than-normal fortissimos, a dramatic technique that is effective for rendering scary realism in these lieder.

H ere are the songs:

Колыбельная (Last Lullaby in D-sharp minor; 4:26) - A mother cradles her sick baby with a tremendous fever, who through no one’s fault becomes septic, organ-failure sets in, and the baby then dies. The majestic cruelty of pointless annihilation.
Серенада (Serenade in D-sharp minor; 4:33) - Death lurks below the bedroom window of terminally ill woman, performing a pastiche of a serenade as though he were her lover. Unwelcome attentions, to say the least.
Трепак (Trepak in D minor; 4:03) - A drunk stumbles out of a tavern into the snowy night, takes off his coat and mittens, and freezes to death while hallucinating about fields filled with summer flowers. Mortal haplessness, decorated with depression and morbid chemical dependency.
Полководец (Field-Marshal in E-flat minor and D minor; 5:27) - Death is the commander of what’s left of grizzled dead and dying troops after an horrific battle, and he tells them how he will remember them all. Nice.

T his makes a fright-filled 20-minute program—or you can do just 2 or 3 of them if you like. The piano accompaniment is not terrifically hard.

Y ou might consider a black cape and possibly a black eye-patch. Scythes can be found at your local costume shop or, depending whether you live in a rural area or not, at your local garden store or feed/tack store.

Sunday, March 23, 2008

Philip West’s Chamber Ensemble Arrangement of Mahler’s Rückert Lieder

T he performances here, leaving aside the emotional circumstances of their provenance, are priceless. [DeGaetani’s] illness had done nothing to dim the lustrous quality of her instantly recognizable mezzo voice nor her impeccable musicianship. West’s chamber reductions of the orchestral scores are skillful and effective. This is one of my ‘desert isle’ recordings [ —one that, were I marooned on a desert isle, I would salvage as one of the but few things I could take with me from the wreck].”
— J. Scott Morrison, 2003.

I spend part of Easter Sunday listening to the chamber ensemble arrangements of Mahler’s ‘Fünf Lieder nach Texten von Friedrich Rückert’ by Jan DeGaetani’s husband, Philip West (oboe, English horn, shawm, and krummhorn; long-time Professor of chamber music at Eastman School of Music), sung by DeGaetani, accompanied by the Eastman Chamber Ensemble. These are the last recordings made by DeGaetani, several months before her death from leukemia. The recording was done in 1989 and released on Bridge Records in 1993. Coincidentally, Philip West died also of leukemia 14 years later, on 26-JUN-2004. He was 73. At the time of her death, she had been 56.

The movements are as follows:

Blicke mir nicht in die Lieder! − Do not look at my songs! (June 1901)
Ich atmet’ einen linden Duft − I breathed a gentle fragrance (July 1901)
Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen − I am lost to the world (August 1901)
Um Mitternacht − At midnight (August 1901)
Liebst du um Schönheit − If you love for beauty (August 1902)

W est’s arrangements enhance the suppleness of line, delicacy of texture, and uncertainty of intermittent admixtures—they emphasize these qualities even more than in the original Mahler orchestrations.

In fact, if you hear DeGaetani’s rendering of the West arrangements, you will rethink whether the original full-orchestra Mahler manuscripts were as good as these—rethink whether any of the many superb orchestral performances of the originals are anywhere near this good. In some ways, West’s arrangements are like expert ‘novelizations’ of a screenplay—faithful transductions after-the-fact, which not only are true to the original intent but in many ways improve upon the originals or reveal shades and nuances that were not fully developed in them.

Chronologically, these lieder hail from a time in Mahler’s life when he was in progressively worse health, and the precariousness of his prognosis totally changed his outlook and his compositional style—from the more extroverted ‘early’ Mahler, to the introverted and otherworldly ‘late’ Mahler. Four of these five songs were written in the summer of 1901; Liebst du um Schönheit in summer of 1902. The first four were originally issued individually, in versions for voice with piano and orchestra; Liebst was only in piano manuscript and was orchestrated posthumously in 1916.

Unlike his ‘Lieder eines fahrenden Gesellen’ or ‘Kindertotenlieder’, Mahler’s five Rückert Lieder do not form a cycle. And their other-worldliness is not some beatific transcendental vision; rather, it is an existential despair—a profound relinquishing; a near-total cessation of desire; a hebephrenic hymn, inconsolable, announcing the futility of any attempts to provide solace.

Blicke mir nicht in die Lieder’ confides that the poet/composer/performer mistrusts her/his own judgment as frail or unreliable—confides an irreducible uncertainty, such that anything she/he might say does not bear overmuch scrutiny. A life’s story, retold in the waning days, may be marked by revisions and changed perceptions—priorities reset and substituted in recollection, priorities that may not have been quite as they are now being recounted.

The orchestral version of these lieder is thinly orchestrated—mostly single winds, horn, harp, plus a few violins and violas; in some songs a celesta is added. The string parts are ethereal, atmospheric. ‘Um Mitternacht’ is dark, midnightly in its coloration. Here, Mahler specified an orchestra without strings, just pairs of woodwinds (with a single oboe d’amore instead of an oboe section), three horns, two trumpets, three trombones, a solitary tuba, tympani, plus harp and piano.

Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen’, the most hebephrenic, regressive, and despondent of the Rückert songs, is serene only by way of withdrawal from society. We infer that the withdrawal is natural result of the protagonist’s struggle in the preceding two stanzas. This song, dark and weighty, has an English horn but no flute. It presents a pensive upward melodic line, up from two notes to three, and then arcing toward the line’s melodic peak, followed by descent. This is beautiful in all of the various versions. But it seems best of all in a thinner chamber ensemble arrangement, like Philip West’s, or in the original piano version. The Jan DeGaetani—Eastman Ensemble performance (this arr. by Philip West) is my favorite. Or, a close ‘second’, the Lorraine Hunt Lieberson—Roger Vignoles one—also very intimate. In the case of the latter version, Lieberson’s own failing health informed her interpretation, in much the same manner as Jan DeGaetani’s health informed the 1989 Eastman performance. ‘Desert isle’ material, indeed!

Ich atmet' einen linden Duft!	I breathed a gentle fragrance!
Im Zimmer stand	In the room stood
Ein Zweig der Linde,	a sprig of linden,
Ein Angebinde	a gift
Von lieber Hand.	from a dear hand.
Wie lieblich war der Lindenduft!	How lovely was the fragrance of linden!

Wie lieblich ist der Lindenduft!	How lovely is the fragrance of linden!
Das Lindenreis	That twig of linden
Brachst du gelinde!	you broke off so gently!
Ich atme leis	Softly I breathe in
Im Duft der Linde	the fragrance of linden,
Der Liebe linden Duft.	the gentle fragrance of love.

Liebst du um Schönheit,	If you love for beauty,
O nicht mich liebe!	Oh, do not love me!
Liebe die Sonne,	Love the sun,
Sie trägt ein gold'nes Haar!	She has golden hair!

Liebst du um Jugend,	If you love for youth,
O nicht mich liebe!	Oh, do not love me!
Liebe der Frühling,	Love the spring;
Der jung ist jedes Jahr!	It is young every year!

Liebst du um Schätze,	If you love for treasure,
O nicht mich liebe.	Oh, do not love me!
Liebe die Meerfrau,	Love the mermaid;
Sie hat viel Perlen klar.	She has many clear pearls!

Liebst du um Liebe,	If you love for love,
O ja, mich liebe!	Oh yes, do love me!
Liebe mich immer,	Love me ever,
Dich lieb' ich immerdar.	I'll love you evermore!

Blicke mir nicht in die Lieder!	Do not look at my songs!
Meine Augen schlag' ich nieder,	My eyes I lower,
Wie ertappt auf böser Tat.	as if I've been caught in an evil deed.
Selber darf ich nicht getrauen,	I can't even trust myself
Ihrem Wachsen zuzuschauen.	to watch them grow.
Deine Neugier ist Verrat!	Your curiosity is a betrayal!

Bienen, wenn sie Zellen bauen,	Bees, when they build their cells,
Lassen auch nicht zu sich schauen,	also do not let anyone observe them;
Schauen selber auch nicht zu.	even themselves.
Wann die reichen Honigwaben	If the rich honeycombs
Sie zu Tag gefördert haben,	are brought out to the light of day,
Dann vor allen nasche du!	then you shall taste them before everyone else!

Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen,	I am lost to the world
Mit der ich sonst viele Zeit verdorben,	with which I used to waste so much time,
Sie hat so lange nichts von mir vernommen,	It has heard nothing from me for so long
Sie mag wohl glauben, ich sei gestorben!	that it may very well believe that I am dead!

Es ist mir auch gar nichts daran gelegen,	It is of no consequence to me
Ob sie mich für gestorben hält,	Whether it thinks me dead;
Ich kann auch gar nichts sagen dagegen,	I cannot deny it,
Denn wirklich bin ich gestorben der Welt.	for I really am dead to the world.

Ich bin gestorben dem Weltgetümmel,	I am dead to the world's tumult,
Und ruh' in einem stillen Gebiet!	And I rest in a quiet realm!
Ich leb' allein in meinem Himmel,	I live alone in my heaven,
In meinem Lieben, in meinem Lied!	In my love and in my song!

Um Mitternacht	At midnight
Hab' ich gewacht	I awoke
Und aufgeblickt zum Himmel;	and gazed up to heaven;
Kein Stern vom Sterngewimmel	No star in the entire mass
Hat mir gelacht	did smile down at me
Um Mitternacht.	at midnight.

Um Mitternacht	At midnight
Hab' ich gedacht	I projected my thoughts
Hinaus in dunkle Schranken.	out past the dark barriers.
Es hat kein Lichtgedanken	No thought of light
Mir Trost gebracht	brought me comfort
Um Mitternacht.	at midnight.

Um Mitternacht	At midnight
Nahm ich in acht	I paid close attention
Die Schläge meines Herzens;	to the beating of my heart;
Ein einz'ger Puls des Schmerzes	One single pulse of agony
War angefacht	flared up
Um Mitternacht.	at midnight.

Um Mitternacht	At midnight
Kämpft' ich die Schlacht,	I fought the battle,
O Menschheit, deiner Leiden;	O Mankind, of your suffering;
Nicht konnt' ich sie entscheiden	I could not decide it
Mit meiner Macht	with my strength
Um Mitternacht.	at midnight.

Um Mitternacht	At midnight
Hab' ich die Macht	I surrendered my strength
In deine Hand gegeben!	into your hands!
Herr! über Tod und Leben	God! over death and life
Du hältst die Wacht	You keep watch
Um Mitternacht!	at midnight!