My little tribute to Pierre Boulez

A couple of weeks ago, after I heard about the death of Pierre Boulez, I really wanted to do something; some sort of "tribute". No matter how insignificant it may be. I Because he was, I think, one of the greatest musicians of this last century. However, I really wanted to focus mainly on his music, rather than on his life, or on his conducting, or his immense influence - as so many do. I wanted this to be a video about his "sound world".

But I intended it to be not too analytical, or technical, or academic! Because I think too often his music is presented that way, and thus give it a "scary" reputation of "extremely complicated", very "intellectual", "unemotional", etc. Putting many listeners off before even hearing one note!

Schoenberg said: 'I cannot often enough warn against the overrating of analysis since it invariably leads to what I have always fought against: the knowledge of how something is made; whereas I have always tried to promote the knowledge of what something is.'

Boulez himself said – a couple of years before writing his famous “Le marteau sans maître”:

“the more complex the formal means are, the less they are perceived intellectually by the listener.”

That doesn't mean that you should not investigate! But the danger with serialist and other “complex” music, is that you can become so overwhelmed with “ the investigation”, so perplexed at how the music is made, that you forget to listen to it. I mean really, listen; and dream; and let yourself be free!

Again, while working on “Le marteau”, Boulez wrote:

“We need not busy ourselves about the mechanism that leads to the work, but rather with the work itself, which, once composed . . . casts into night all the preliminary procedures.”

I'm also trying to give some ideas to those maybe not used to his music, on how to listen to it, what to look for, etc; and hopefully to inspire as many people as I can, to give it a chance! Because often it really is music, of wondrous beauty and sensuality, of great contrasts and vast imagination!

I focus a little on "Notations", "Le Visage nuptial", "Sur Incises", "Rituel in memoriam Bruno Maderna", "...explosante-fixe..." and "Répons".

The little musical excerpts are fragments from: - Notation no. 5 (Pierre-Laurent Aimard) - Sur Incises (Ensemble Intercontemporain and Boulez) - Rituel in memoriam Bruno Maderna (BBC SYmphony Orchestra, BBC SIngers and Boulez) - ...explosante-fixe... (Ensemble Intercontemporain and Boulez) - Répons (Ensemble Intercontemporain and Boulez)

It turned out longer than I hope, but ...well, here it is, I hope you enjoy some of it!

Parsifal or Percival?

Interesting how we tend to translate some opera (or other music) titles, but not others!

Parsifal is never translated as Percival, although Guillaume Tell is William Tell! No, Parsifal is "sacred", but we have no hesitation turning Guillaume Tell into William Tell, or back into Wilhelm Tell or Guillermo Tell. He was Swiss, after all - they are polyglots, it is only fitting!

"Der fliegende Holländer"... too complicated; so we translate it, all over the world: "The Flying Dutchman", "El holandes errante", "Le Vaisseau fantôme", "L'olandese volante", "Летучий голландец" etc!

"Così fan tutte" - no, we can't possibly translate that! Maybe because "Thus Do They All" sounds so ... un-Mozartian! But "Die Zauberflöte" smells like headaches, so: "The Magic Flute" is preferable; much easier!. And since "Le nozze di Figaro" is not too serious, "The Marriage of Figaro" will do just fine.

But not "The Knight of the Rose". That sounds too ... simple; and a bit cheesy; so we'll stick with "Der Rosenkavalier". Not in most other countries though, where it is often translated as "El caballero de la rosa", "Le chevalier à la rose", etc.

Too bad we can't replace "Peer Gynt" with anything - that is a bit of a pain, but at least is short! But thank God for "Bluebeard's Castle" imagine having to learn how to say "A kékszakállú herceg vára"!!

Don Giovanni will stay that way; changing it to "Don Juan" would cause too much confusion.

And we don't translate Verdi! It sounds so much better in Italian! "Un ballo in maschera": you say it! You see? So much more classy than "A Masked Ball"! And "La forza del destino", "La battaglia di Legnano", "I due Foscari" usually remain unchanged too. "Il trovatore" .... well. Here we concede. Translation not prohibited! "Le Trouvère" (which is only fair, since Verdi did a French version too, anyway), "El Trovador", "Trubadurul", etc

But we'll stick with "L'italiana in Algeri"; because "The Italian Girl in Algiers" sounds a bit like something written by Max Steiner as a sequel to "Casablanca"!

Oh, I forgot "La Traviata" which is never translated either. "The Fallen Woman"! And perhaps some first time listeners wonder if "Traviata" is Violetta's surname?! Or something?

Often if the original title happens to be in Italian, German or French, we are so very pretentious! Oh yes, we "believe" in the original titles. (when not too complicated; though we still find something like "Till Eulenspiegels lustige Streiche" a bit annoying, so we shorten it). But if the original title is in Russian, Czech, Hungarian, Japanese, English, or anything else - we are much less preoccupied with "keeping the original intact".

Anyway!

Whatever!

Now that was a waste of time!

Resurrection

A demo of my latest piece, for orchestra: "Resurrection"

Night of transformations; Dante. There is a general idea of "ascension", of transformation, transfiguration, metamorphosis - from beginning to end.

The music is starting somewhere in the depths of darkness; low, slow and quiet; it begins "ascending". Looking for light; for life; for revelation; for resurrection...
When it attains "effervescence", it ends. Abruptly.

This is a homage.
I feel so disappointed I failed to finish it by Christmas! I was almost superstitious about it...

It is written for a fairly big orchestra, similar to that in "Refugee"; less percussion, though (and less prominent; but when it appears it usually is a lot noisier than in "Refugee"!). On the other hand, now there is also an Alto Flute and an E flat Clarinet. The strings are not divided as much and in as many parts as in "Refugee". Though there are occasional murmurs here, too. The winds are more "orthodox", more "old testament". The brass is often louder; and used more than in "Refugee".
The end of "Refugee" dissolves into nothing. In "Resurrection", on the contrary, a few passages (including the end) should be as loud (or louder!) than "Manfred"! I even dreamed of a "Mahlerian" hammer on the very last note! :D

War and Peace on TV

Superficial, superficial, superficial ...

Google is trying to be clever and attempts to "guess" what our interests are. Literally every single day, for at least a week, I've been getting one or more alerts about various articles and posts related to the new BBC adaptation of "War and Peace"! Only today, for example, I got 2 alerts about War and Peace. :D

So, I read these articles, that Google "recommended" to me; since Google knows me so well!

First of all, it seems to me like some of those reviewing the show, either haven't read the book, or maybe have read it in a very superficial way; or maybe have misunderstood it.

Look at this small paragraph from the Telegraph, for example! It made me cringe.

Serena Davies writes: "War and Peace is ripe for adaptation. The novel is far too long, full of huge tracts of philosophising of which I defy any reader not to skip the occasional paragraph. Adaptations can skip the lot. The best version I’ve seen of War and Peace was the shortest: Shared Experience theatre company did it as a single play in the Nineties. There was no time for exposition, we were just thrilled and moved by the sublime suffering of heroine Natasha, the chilling control of femme fatale Helene, the sheer sexiness of Prince Andrei – all to the austere and terrible backdrop of war."

Oh my God!! I cringe, I cringe, I really, really do!

Look! Someone listens with great, great effort to some complete recording of Wagner's Ring. Now very proud of such monumental achievement, writes a review, let's say for the Telegraph:

"Wagner's Ring is ripe for adaptation. The cycle is far too long, full of huge tracts of tuneless singing of which I defy any listener not to skip the occasional passage. Adaptations can skip the lot. The best version I’ve heard of the Ring was the shortest: American musician, David Ocker's version of the operas, which lasts just under 1 second. And if that is a little bit too fast for your ears, I recommend you try the Lego adaptation, at just over 7 minutes. What's not to like? No time wasted on some impenetrable music!"

What's not to like...

(These versions really exist, by the way - all the notes from all the Ring operas are there, played in under a second, 16 octaves higher, etc! :D )

There is a superficial way to read War and Peace - a bit like you read some comic book. X fights in a certain battle, gets lost in a forest in utter fear, gets injured, almost by mistake becomes a hero. Y is in love with Z. Z is married but detests his wife. Complications. Z gets injured, dies. etc, etc. Y gradually and unexpectedly  falls in love with Z's friend T. The little big scary N invades R. K retreats, and retreats. Refuses to offer battle. Nobody really "wins" at the battle of B. And so on and on. If you interpret War and Peace as some "regular" historical + love novel, that annoyingly happens to include too many (quite a bit harder to read) pages of philosophy of history every now and then, which break the flow of the story ... I am sorry, I believe you misunderstand the book!

In fact in some ways it is maybe the other way round. War and Peace seems more or less built around a "philosophical idea", which almost supersedes "the story". And in some ways, it is more important. It is almost as if the story is there to serve a purpose: to make you understand the philosophical thoughts behind it! Tolstoy being a bit like a "teacher" who gives you practical examples, so that you can understand some important concepts: the meaning of history, the real causes of "important" historical events, the influence of history in our understanding of human civilization, etc.

How then, do you "adapt" Tolstoy's lengthy meditations in War and Peace, on history, or patriotism, on (non)courage, on "greatness-or-not" etc, etc? These are NOT just little fleeting superficial thoughts you can just "truncate" and "plant" here and there as convenient in a TV drama. In fact you take them out of context and they will be misunderstood! And if you "adapt" them out, what you are left with is really no longer Tolstoy's War and Peace. Tolstoy himself wrote later: “What is War and Peace? It is not a novel, even less is it a poem, and still less an historical chronicle. War and Peace is what the author wished and was able to express in the form in which it is expressed.”

And can the BBC War and Peace really convey the utter Russianess of many of the characters? To understand them, their actions, their evolution throughout the book, you really need to understand that too. The "little big scary N." fatally fails to understand that too, and pays the price.

Anyway...

I was thinking, I read Lord of the Rings too. And I really enjoyed it, is not that I didn't. (by the way, Lord of the Rings is altogether longer than War and Peace!) Lord of the Rings, unlike War and Peace, has no "irritating" philosophising in it (maybe other than some subliminal "power corrupts"). Perhaps some of those who write reviews, should stick to that type of literature; if they read it a certain way, they may even find some elvish femme fatale, some sexy ranger king - "all to the austere and terrible backdrop of war."

Whatever!...

Superficial, superficial, superficial ...

Michal Rovner

I listened yesterday to an interview with Michal Rovner. Very interesting. The truth is I really "devoured" all the John Tusa interviews; and now I am sad that I finished them all... I think I'll just start all over again! I find them really inspiring. It doesn't matter if the guest is an architect, or a poet, or a musician, or a choreographer, or a video artist like Michal Rovner, for example. They all fascinate me because they are about "creativity" - seen from many different points of view; but they all relate to each other, and to my many questions and doubts.

And then I become very curious about every one of his guests. Now I wish I could see some Michal Rovner works! They seem fascinating. I read she colaborated with Philp Glass and Heiner Goebbels. I like Heiner Goebbels' music, by the way - what I managed to hear, at least.

Here is a video from one of Michal Rovner's exhibitions. See the "idea" of people reduced to the size of a text, holding hands, "playing", etc over pages of books, or old archaeological items!

I want to write, write, write!

I want to do a music theater piece. Comical and absurd. I am going to call it "The Happy Cemetery" (like the "happy cemetery" I saw last summer). The story should be something like this:

It is nightfall; fog covers the ground; It is very quiet. The silence is  broken by ghostly voices, but we don't understand what they are saying; just disjointed sounds and syllables; gradually, they are starting to form words; then sentences. They seem to speak of "life" and "death"; but every mention of "death" is accompanied by sudden laughs, whistling and other noise!
The moon comes out from the clouds; full moon (it is Transilvania, after all ;) ) We now see a lot of people around the graves. It looks almost like a party! Chatting, shouting, singing, laughing! Most of all they seem to make fun of each other! Especially of the way in which they lived - with their unfulfilled dreams, their lack of ambition, their petty jealousy, their lives wasted, or just the plain abundant bad luck. And they ridicule the various ways in which they died: a young man died in a car accident. Another one was decapitated during the 2nd world war. The mother in law that seemed to outlive everyone, but was finally buried by her son in law (who had nothing but hate for her). The fiddler who spent most of his life playing at weddings - and drinking. The young woman who died of cancer. It is more and more noisy, almost as if they are drunk! Talking over each other, laughing, etc.
But suddenly we see the first shy traces of morning light. The moon is covered by clouds again. Sentences and words become more and more disjointed again. Eventually only isolated syllables and sounds - whispers.
It is all quiet again. The fog is still there. Curtain down. Only the instrumental ensemble: sunrise.

I also want to write a "mystical" orchestral piece: "Resurrection". I don't understand why, but I really want to. I have an impression of it, and the sound world, in my mind.

I want to write a piece for a smaller ensemble inspired by a photo I saw, called "Where the smiles are born".

I want to write an "easy(er)" collection of many small duos either for 2 violins (like Bartok's 44 duos), or violin and viola, or violin and cello. I'm not quite sure yet.

I want to write a song cycle, for male voice and piano, in which each song represents a different aspect of the same one concept, most likely "love". I'll call it "12 instances of love"  (12, or 24, or 15, etc, depending how many songs I decide to do) Each one treating a different type of love: paternal love, secret love, the end of love, passionate love, jealous love, compassionate love, etc.

I want to write an orchestral piece for Sighet, the "memorial of pain" - the political prison I saw last summer.

I want to write some comical and "mad" and colourful symphonic variations on "Twinkle winkle little star"!

I want to write an orchestral piece about the forests and valleys and hills and mountains, and mountain streams, and birds, and bears! :D

etc, etc.

Have you 'thought' the unobtainable note strongly enough?!

Nice bit of 2nd violin "brain" virtuosity in Salome. wink emoticon In one passage, for example, R. Strauss writes suddenly a low E (a 3rd under the last string, G) - without any warning or time to tune down.

Apparently in one rehearsal players "protested", when seeing that. Strauss made a characteristic remark:

"Well, what did you expect me to write, a G?"

But as Norman del Mar writes:

"Strauss did not always expect the players to tune down". There was considerable "method in his apparent madness. In his more patient moments he would explain that if the player 'thought' the unobtainable note strongly enough and tried hard to look as if he 'was' playing it, the audience would never know it was missing."