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."

"Refugee" - for Orchestra

Following my previous post, by the time I saw that video on a Spanish news TV channel, I was already about one third through a piece for orchestra, which I had already called "Refugee". I started it about a month and a half ago - and I finished it last night - after coming back from Carlisle; although I was feeling really, really not well. It is a bit over 10 minutes long. 11 minutes or so.

I'd subjectively say that I worked pretty fast, especially considering that in the meantime I happened to play among other things, Mahler 6, Verdi's Requiem, the John Williams concert, etc.

Plus I also spend a lot of time lately learning ... something else.

I am still not 100% sure about a few things. For example I haven't totally decided yet whether to add horns to a passage or not. Whether to leave the harp glissando in or not. Whether to add a solo double bass to a bass clarinet passage or not, etc But I'll see; for now I think this is the best choice.

If I listened to it, I'd probably focus on 3 things: 

- what I call the "clouds of sound" - for example the harmonics that start the piece (and conclude it, but in a very different context)

- the "activity" - the faster moving lines, often in imitation; which turn into "clouds of sound" themselves sometimes

- the second inversion A major chord - that appears at first "hidden", "encrypted", but becomes more prominent towards the end. This chord symbolizes the utopian dream, hope, that keeps the refugee going, through a terrible plight. The "utopian chord"...

I think about this piece as a journey. But maybe not so much a physical journey as a psychological journey. From episode to episode - "held together" by common "little motives" or "cells". As soon as it starts to settle somewhere, it transforms into something else. 

The end is at least in part a utopian resolution. And nostalgia. The English Horn which should prevail over the other winds; and especially the soft second inversion A major chord mentioned above, in the divided cellos and basses, which appears under the "cloud of sounds" - the high harmonics.

The xylophone and celesta (at times plus harp) form a "special group" quite prominent in a few episodes. Ideally they would be placed close to each other, and not too far back.

Also I am always so affected by the music that surrounds me... The way I subjectively justify it is that I try to absorb everything - I let it "ferment" - and what comes out, hopefully is transformed, metamorphosed. The Ligeti, hopefully is no longer Ligeti, the Saariaho no longer Saariaho, the Mahler no longer Mahler, etc I cannibalize them, ha! Hopefully they become bits of "me"! 

And I always have my "cryptic" allusions to other things. I can't help it. But the truth is when I allude to something, I don't really allude to the original. Rather I allude to a felling, a memory, an impression that remained with me. There are 2 such "allusions" to Mahler 6, for example: the harp in the low register (because the low harp in Mahler 6 gives me the shivers, in those passages with the tremolo cellos, for example; God!!) - and the "funeral" brass, just before the "resolution", at the end. There is nothing quite as "funeral" and as "dark", as a passage for low brass can be!

The orchestra is unfortunately bigger than I originally planned: 3 flutes (3rd doubles piccolo), 3 oboes (3rd doubles English Horn), 2 clarinets, 1 bass clarinet, 2 bassoons, 1 contrabassoon, 4 horns, 3 trumpets, 3 trombones, 1 tuba, percussion ( 3 players: xylophone - with quite a prominent part - wood block, snare drum, bells, ratchet, triangle, whip, bass drum, tamtam), timpani, celesta, harp and strings.

Here is a pretty good demo:

How can you trip up a man running, carrying his child?

How can you trip up a man running, carrying his child? Refugee or not. How can one do that?
I don't know... I can't watch these videos and images. I mean, I can, of course; but I break inside, really! I see their faces - and I see myself instead experiencing it! How can people in some countries forget that not long ago, so many of their own, would run away and look for refuge elsewhere?
I am nowhere near the situation in which these people find themselves. I have never been. But I could have, in some way; if communism hadn't fallen, I would most likely have tried to flee. I remember speaking, when I was 16, with a Romanian actor, who tried to flee, during those bad times, but got caught and imprisoned for it. I remember him saying how hard prison was! So cold! (And that reminds me of that letter I saw this summer in Sighet again, from a poor political prisoner. who kept begging his family to send him something for the terrible cold!) But it made me wonder even then, and ever since, what would I have done? Would I risk it? I am almost sure I would.
So many just don't understand what it takes for somebody to abandon everything, and embark on this crazy journey. Sometimes with young kids. Only the dream can keep you going. Blind hope. But you have no certainty, really, of where you are heading to, what you are going to do, what you are going to find. And you go through hell, hungry, thirsty, tired with the exhaustion of 1000 people! And again. And again. And you find yourself in danger more than once, no doubt. And sometimes you run - and you try to protect your kid.
And then someone trips you up - just like that, for their own pleasure! - and you fall... on top of your child!
Think about it! In the 1930s, when so many people were trying to flee Germany and other countries, even well known personalities found it extremely hard to be accepted abroad. Never mind the "non-famous" ... Schoenberg, for example, tried to move to the UK - but he couldn't find a job or at least a publisher, despite the efforts of a British friend. He applied for a job in Australia, at the Sydney Conservatory but was rejected. The application marked with the words "dangerous ideas" and "Jewish" ...
And what was happening to some others not so "famous"?
Look:
"MS St. Louis was a German ocean liner most notable for a single voyage in 1939, in which her captain, Gustav Schröder, tried to find homes for 908 Jewish refugees from Germany, after they were denied entry to Cuba, the United States and Canada, until finally accepted in various European countries, which were later engulfed in World War II. Historians have estimated that, after their return to Europe, approximately a quarter of the ship's passengers died in concentration camps."
"America not only refused their entry but even fired a warning shot to keep them away from Florida's shores".
It is always monumentally hard being a refugee.
And today Hungary fire their own "warning shots", while other states are willing to accept only Christian refugees.
Anyway ... Enough.... Whatever...
I am one third through something for orchestra now. I call it "Refugee". It doesn't matter if it means nothing. It doesn't help with anything. But it is my way to try to ... "understand".

Rimsky-Korsakov and his beard ;)

I like Rimsky-Korsakov because:

- he had a great beard :D
- he taught his composition classes wearing military uniform (which was compulsory, for an officer)
- he became a composition teacher (and a famous orchestration master) despite not having any musical academic training. He barely knew music theory! But then, unlike the other "five", he decided to learn! And for a few years he worked really hard to prepare his lessons, while learning himself harmony, counterpoint, etc! In the end he became one of the best, most inspiring teachers there - and among his students were Prokofiev, Stravinsky Respighi, Lyadov, Glazunov, etc.
- in some ways he is one of the first "modern orchestrators". His book "Principles of Orchestration" was one of the main orchestration books for a long time. Even today I think it is one of the most inspiring books. In my opinion, nobody describes the sound, the characteristics and the potential of an instrument, better or more colorfully than he does there! It was the first orchestration book I read. I was not allowed to take it home, I remember!. I was going to the lecture hall of the city library in Brasov, for my daily meeting with ... Rimsky Korsakov. I almost copied all the book, in my notebooks, ha! I had no other option, there was no copy machine, during those times, there... And I remember those afternoons with great pleasure. It felt like I was listening to some grandfather speak about the orchestra. Not like some of the "normal" teachers at my school.

(And by the way, that music conservatory where he taught, the Saint Petersburg State Conservatory - and where so many Russian musicians studied - Tchaikovsky, Prokofiev, Shostakovich, Heifetz, Milstein, Gergiev, Mariss Jansons, etc - is called "The N. A. Rimsky-Korsakov Saint Petersburg State Conservatory"; and for good reasons!)

"El Lector"

Quite amazing this:

"Because the job of rolling cigar after cigar could become monotonous, the workers wanted something to occupy and stimulate the mind. Thus arose the tradition of "lectors", who sat perched on an elevated platform in the cigar factory, reading to the workers.
Typically, the lector would start the day reading local Spanish newspapers and some fiction, such as a romance or adventure novel. Since most residents of Ybor were very interested in politics, the lector would then usually move on to political treatises or writings about the current events in Cuba or Spain or other countries. In the afternoon, the selection was often a literary novel, such as Don Quixote or other works of classic literature. (In Nilo Cruz's Pulitzer Prize-winning play Anna in the Tropics set in Ybor City, Tolstoy's Anna Karenina is read.) Because of the lector system, even cigar workers who could not read were exposed to classic literature and were conversant on political philosophy and current events both in Ybor City and around the world.
Lectors were well respected and often highly educated. Most could look at text written in English or Italian and read it aloud in Spanish, the language of the factories." (Wikipedia)

Beethoven 4th piano concerto

So Mark Elder sees the second movement of Beethoven 4th piano concerto as Christ in front of Pontius Pilate. I just can't. I think it is much more like the old testament! Those string unisons seem to me more like the chorus in a Greek tragedy! Or like an old testament crowd, pointing accusingly to the outcast, the "sinner": the piano!
Anyway, the little piano cadenza, and those last few phrases are to me some of the most desolate music Beethoven wrote. Is there any understanding for the piano, from the strings? Any compassion? I don't think so. The piano is all alone really. Misunderstood and desolate. And it gives me the shivers!

Primary language ... for an emigrant, an exile, a refuge, or anybody "lost" abroad

Milos Forman was asked (having lived in the US for many years, without using Czech much for a very long time) if he thought now of  English as his "primary" language; as his "main" language. If he dreamt in English, if he thought in English, etc.
He hesitated - he admitted he often dreamt or thought in English, but he wasn't at all convinced that English had fundamentally replaced Czech, in him.
He decided the ultimate test of what language can be considered your primary language, must be the "poetry" test. He thought primary language must be that in which one can fully appreciate and understand subtle nuances of poetry. And for him that was still Czech.

I was reading some poems, in Romanian. So beautiful! So amazing! I looked for translations! And I found some, but... is not the same thing... Is not the same... The music of the words, the colours... To read a good poem is ... an emotional release. And I love English poetry too; or American. Or for that matter, Spanish. I read a few Spanish poems recently, incredibly moving. I think I understand the images, the metaphors. But what I feel I still don't get truly, in any language as I still do in Romanian, is the music. And the colours of the words. And all the nuances. These days I think in English almost exclusively. In Spain at some point I thought in Spanish, too. But I have to admit, Milos Forman was right. The ultimate test is poetry!

Every time I come to Romania, I make frequent language mistakes, especially at first. Words don't come to mind as easily. I have now a pretty bad pronunciation, sometimes bad grammar... But the poetry, THAT I get! And as much as I am in awe after I struggle, and I did, with for example, Shakespeare sonnets in old English, and as much as I love - and I really do - Edgar Allan Poe (I set one of his poems to music) or Walt Whitman, or Tony Harrison, or amazingly, the impressive English poems of the Hungarian born George Szirtes - despite all of my efforts, I feel there is something I still can't penetrate... Even when I think I understand them - with all of the metaphors and hyperboles and anaphoras, there is an invisible wall that prevents me from going as deep and feeling the same sense of being completely enveloped by a poem, of "tasting"it and "smelling" it, and living it and dreaming of its music, as when I read some Eminescu, or a Nichita Stanescu, or Arghezi, or Iv Cel Naiv.

Music, Meaning and Emotion

Music has the capacity to express and communicate. But what does it communicate or express? And how? Or why?

See these quotes from various musicians and artists:

"Where the speech of man stops short, then the art of music begins." Wagner

"Music begins where the possibilities of language end". Sibelius

"Music will express any emotion, base or lofty. She is absolutely unmoral." George Bernard Shaw

"It is only that which cannot be expressed otherwise that is worth expressing in music." Delius

 "Nothing is more odious than music without hidden meaning" Chopin

"Music should strike fire from the heart of man, and bring tears from the eyes of woman." Beethoven

All of them imply that music contains a meaning, a message, often emotional. I like Louis Andriessen's view (who I heard yesterday in an interview) - that music is "bigger" than emotion. That sometimes it can express emotion but it can go beyond that.

There is a branch of music psychology dedicated entirely to  "music and emotion".  And there are consensual views and opposing theories. The problem is that music really can be experienced in many different ways and on many different levels. For some, most music is not much more than a simple aural experience, largely void of "sentiment" or true "meaning". For others every sound will express, and communicate something and will stimulate an emotional and/or intellectual response.

The impact of music is a result of a combination of factors:

1. the music itself
2. the skill and quality of a musical performance
3. the expertise of the audience
4. the circumstances and context of the musical event

But why does music express something in itself? And does it happen a priori? Or it is something that we learn to interpret (as audience) and use (as musicians), while we grow up and develop as intellectual and emotional beings?

I'm inclined to believe that our understanding of the emotional, expressive quality of music, is a combination of the two. That our cultural experiences, and our experiences as humans, are essential to our understanding of a musical message, that we learn, we become "conditioned" to interpret the "message" of, for example, a certain slow and quiet piece (and maybe in a western tonal world - in a minor key), as sad. But I also believe that there can be something in music (and in us) that can be expressed (and understood) a priori, without the knowledge formed, in time, through experience.

We become accustomed almost from the moment we are born (some would say, even before!), with a certain type of music: in the western world, that usually is tonal music in a regular meter, in India maybe with the " shruti" and "raga" and "tala", etc. And we become accustomed with certain associations between various features of that music and various emotions. I believe that certain technical factors in music (such as the major and minor scales, or various modes in some folk music) are not inherently "sad" or "happy", a priori. I believe we learn to associate that with certain types of emotions through our experience of the music that becomes familiar to us since infancy, and through the reaction to it, displayed by our parents, at first, and by those close to us. Dissonant intervals have traditionally been associated with anxiety, fear, anger, etc. Consonant harmonies with happiness, relaxation, resolution (especially when following a dissonant harmony). But are they inherently "happy", or "angry"? Not necessarily. In fact many intervals that today are regarded as "pleasant" to us in the western world, were seen as disturbing, dissonant and unpleasant only a few hundred years ago, by our ancestors!
Our "beautiful western harmonies" would seem vulgar and incomprehensible to some people accustomed instead to various Asian musical traditions. In the history of western classical music pretty much any new musical styles have been received by many with confusion, even anger, aversion - simply because of the lack of that a posteriori understanding of the "new". Even more so with the advent of atonal music which completely challenged and changed "the familiar"!

So does that mean that all the emotional content, and all the meaning of music is learnt a posteriori?

Again, not necessarily. Many musical devices can still communicate an emotional message to us, even without us being familiar with them at all! That usually happens because of a reflection in sound of our "nature" as humans, or of the world that surrounds us. For example, we would naturally see a consistent undisturbed musical pattern, as "calming", "relaxing" maybe (ah, I hate the word when used in relation to classical music!); and any shocking event that would interrupt that (such as a sudden unexpected change, in tempo, dynamics, etc) we would perceive as a "disturbing" event. We don't need to have learnt that, in order to understand it! A musical suggestion of a scream - such as a high pitched sustained fortissimo cluster, would inevitably not sound happy, since it would raise whether we realize it or not, that "ancestral" alarm in our subconscious, that something terrible might happen! We don't need to learn that in order to understand it. Etc.

So in my opinion, the way in which we perceive the musical "message" and its emotional content is formed both a priori and a posteriori. But if we are only aware of the a priori message of music, which needs no educating, no experience, and if we are not aware of its a posteriori counter part (that which needs education and experience), we miss at least half, if not most of the meaning of music!

Stravinsky said: "To listen is an effort, and just to hear is no merit. A duck hears also."

That's why musical education is vitally important! It is important for us musicians since the more an audience understands the meaning or the message of the music we play, the more likely they are to enjoy it. And it is important for the world, because a world in which music is better understood, must surely be a better world!

But another essential factor in the effectiveness of music on an audience is the skill and the quality of the performers. Without performers there is no music. The performers make music a reality. If the composer is "the imperfect God" of a musical piece, the musicians are the angels, apostles, priests and martyrs! They must "spread the message" well, to convert the nonbelievers! (Ha! Why this religious metaphor?! I have no idea.) Actually the performers are so important that they can destroy a good piece of music, or save and make very successful an average one! They are the first who must decipher and understand the musical message -  and then bring it to life. And it must be so utterly convincing! So utterly convincing, that there may even be a chance for those entirely unfamiliar not only with that piece of music, but even with that entire particular musical language, to understand and enjoy as much of it as possible!

And the best performers do much more than just "broadcasting" to the audience the composer's message! Casals said: "The heart of the melody can never be put down on paper." There will never be enough tools for composers to indicate every colour, every intention, every possibility that comes with the music. And there shouldn't be! With the late romantic period, and especially after the second Viennese School, many composers started filling their scores with instructions for how every single note should be played. Nowadays again some contemporary composers are starting to re-evaluate that, and try to allow more "room for maneuver" to their performers.
Don't strangle your musicians! The best of them will do all you imagine, and more! There are numerous examples of great composers up to these days, altering their scores, or changing their mind after rehearsing with some great performers, and after being inspired by their interpretation of certain passages, even if sometimes contrary to what originally written in the score! A musical phrase can be interpreted in more than one way! And other possibilities, other versions may be equally convincing and valid!

But coming back to the question of meaning, of emotional content in music, even the fact that composers fill their scores with words (in Italian, or French, or German, or English - it doesn't matter!) such as: "sweet", "expressive", "tentative", "agitated", "calm", "sad", "furious", "dying", "joyful" etc, etc, implies that the music expresses something related to, and maybe beyond human language, or feelings and emotions.

There is a limited vocabulary, in any language, to describe emotions. I can say I feel sad, or unhappy, or dejected,  or despairing, or disconsolate, or desolate. But at some point I run out of words. In music there are unlimited ways to suggest, to express that. And the "sadness" expressed by a composer in a certain passage will never be the same as that expressed by another composer (or even himself again) in another piece! One could claim that there is an infinite number of ways, of possibilities, for an infinite number of different levels and versions of "sadness" to be expressed in music!

And here we come to another important aspect of music: the musical style. In terms of musical "meaning" and "emotional message", the many various styles through centuries could be defined as different ways in which composers approach and organize "meaning" and "emotion" in music. Some musical styles have a more "detached" way of presenting "emotion" in music, with"higher" emotions such as devotion to God, for example, preferred over trivial human emotions perceived as vulgar. In other styles on the contrary, composers want to reflect the entire kaleidoscope of human emotion in all its  "naturalistic" truth; some composers are not even content with that, and attempt to "reflect" the entire universe in their music!

Ultimately I believe it is that: the way in which a composer applies "meaning" and "emotional" content to his/her music, that makes up his/her distinctive "voice".

Ah, this needs so much more detail. In time maybe I'll expand it and organize it better... But even thousands of pages would not be enough to thoroughly analyze and understand meaning and emotion in music! I wrote this pretty quickly and without "premeditation". (and not quite utterly sober!) So maybe not everything makes sense or is well organized. But I often think about music because it gives meaning to my life. To again paraphrase something that I heard Louis Andriessen say yesterday in the interview: life has no meaning on its own; we must work and put energy into giving meaning to it. Otherwise there is no point.

Same with music, I think. There is no point to music without meaning!

I'll end with something that Plato said:

"Music gives a soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, and life to everything."

The infinite possibilities of a blank page!

There is a strange feeling in front of a blank page; every time... A blank page always comes with infinite possibilities! "Everything" can still happen on a blank page. And with anything you write on it, with every choice you make, with every step you take, those "possibilities" diminish. But without writing on it, without making choices, without taking those steps, without "destroying" the infinite possibilities at every turn - the page will never be more than a blank page!

"Pasarea Maiastra" - Wind Quintet

This is a piece for wind quintet, about 10 minutes long, inspired by a mythological bird from Romanian folklore: "Pasarea Maiastra".

"Pasarea Maiastra" is a magic bird famed for its radiant plumage and marvelous song, who often guided and protected Prince Charming in his quests and during his search for his Princess - similar in some ways to the Phoenix or the Firebird. It also reminds me of the forest bird from Siegfried.

Seeing some of the bird sculptures by Brancusi, (and those in the "Maiastra" series) reminded me of the fairy tales I read as a child with "Pasarea Maiastra". I re-read one of them and it surprised me now how dark some of them are! As grim as some of those fairy tales on which some of the symphonic poems by Dvorak are based. Or the "Cunning little vixen"! Many of these fairy tales (with "Pasarea Maiastra") contain some shocking event that I guess serves as a moralistic lesson. "Don't do that - or this terrible thing will happen!"

In one of the Maiastra stories, for example, among other things, the 2 older brothers cut the younger brother's legs, after he saves them from an evil spell! They steal the magic bird from him, and leave him for dead! Later they meet again (his legs magically restored) and in a sort of final judgement (by God), the 2 older brothers get killed by their own sling stones.

"Pasarea Maiastra" usually represents the best qualities in humans, wisdom, etc. It can cross between worlds. (Maiastra comes from another world, etc)

I had bird calls, and "noises" and bird song in mind. Real, mythological or prehistoric birds. Or a sort of archetypal bird. But I equally had in mind "Doina", a Romanian type of musical improvisation and free singing that is (in my opinion) unlike anything else! (Bartok knew it as "Hora lunga")

Here is a link to the soundcloud file:

And here's a link to the general score too, if you wish to see it: https://www.dropbox.com/s/8rrf7pm1xbnkiib/Pasarea%20Maiastra%201%20-%20FS.pdf?dl=

"Long Distance"

I enjoy very much listening to the Tusa interviews! Luckily, every now and then I stumble upon some program like that; almost by mistake! And then I devour it obsessively! ...My way. Now that program is the "Tusa Interviews"
I started with the "music" related episodes, I guess as expected: the interviews with Ligeti, Birtwistle, Elliott Carter - which I found very interesting, fascinating. But then I listened to so many more: the interviews with Frank Auerbach, Anthony Caro, Howard Hodgkin, Edward Bond, etc. Today I listened to John Tusa speaking to Tony Harrison. And for that reason, I am going to post this poem of his:


Long Distance ll by Tony Harrison

Though my mother was already two years dead
Dad kept her slippers warming by the gas,
put hot water bottles her side of the bed
and still went to renew her transport pass.

You couldn't just drop in. You had to phone.
He'd put you off an hour to give him time
to clear away her things and look alone
as though his still raw love were such a crime.

He couldn't risk my blight of disbelief
though sure that very soon he'd hear her key
scrape in the rusted lock and end his grief.
He knew she'd just popped out to get the tea.

I believe life ends with death, and that is all.
You haven't both gone shopping; just the same,
in my new black leather phone book there's your name
and the disconnected number I still call. 

Some thoughts about Luigi Nono

I have my musical rants that maybe annoy people. But they are for myself mostly. It is a way for me to, let's say, arrange my "opinions" on something, in a somewhat "coherent" way. And I post them, in case, someone wishes to convert me to another view, or correct me, or whatever. In fact, most of the time I am not sure of anything, so writing things down, makes me ... decide.
But I think now, for a while, these rants will be focused mostly on relatively, new, modern, and contemporary music. Because I want to catch up, and explore and learn all I can about it.

I posted previously about Cherubini, and his "friendly" discussions with Napoleon! But Cherubini was not insulting Napoleon because he (Cherubini) was very politically opinionated. He didn't "tore off" dedications to Napoleon, like Beethoven! He was just irritated with Napoleon's love and support for Italian music and musicians, to the detriment of the French musicians. The XX-th century by contrast was, a century of many politically "opinionated" musicians - some very aggressively so. But few had such strong political convictions, pursued with such ardor like Luigi Nono. Most of his music is somehow a political manifest, or inspired by it. I think he even joined the communist party at some point. His political views brought him occasionally in disputes with his "Darmstadt School" companions: Boulez and Stockhausen. But personally, I find his music the most expressive - from the group. To my surprise actually I can't think of any piece of his that I heard (and I listened to pretty much everything that I could find) that hasn't impressed me somehow. I haven't heard Canto Sospeso yet (a piece that ultimately indirectly caused a break in friendship between him and Stockhausen!) - and I'd really like to. My favorite piece of his is the quartet "Fragmente Stille".  It is a late piece, mostly quiet and reflective.

Someone said that the music of his last phase, is a lot more "perceptible" for the listeners through the inclusion of silences and prolongation of sounds.
"The listener is not overwhelmed by information, but has the opportunity to reflect upon each sound or
constellation of sounds."  (Havard Enge). I think that is certainly one of the problems with a lot of the total serialism of the 50s and 60s.

This quartet is the second piece written as a homage to Bruno Maderna that I like. (The other one being - and it surprised me! - "Rituel in memoriam Bruno Maderna" by Boulez). And that makes me a lot more curious about Bruno Maderna's music too. I guess that is my next "stop".

I heard Ligeti say, in an interview (and I'll mention that interview on other occasions, I'm sure) that "everybody liked Bruno Maderna", no matter how different their opinions were on pretty much everything else, they all liked Maderna! That apparently he was an amazing man or something!

But to conclude, as otherwise this could go on and on and on, what I like about Nono's music the most, is that it has a lyrical quality it seems to me, in every piece, that I can't find in similar music. At least not yet. I think his music is impressive and everything I read seems to indicate he was a fascinating person. (though maybe sometimes too "aggresive" in his views).

Cherubini and Napoleón

In the same box, at the opera, Napoleon said to Cherubini: "My dear Cherubini, you are certainly an excellent musician, but your music is so loud and complicated, that I can not do anything with it.” Cherubini countered: “My dear General, you are certainly an excellent soldier, but as far as music is concerned, I beg to be excused when I do not consider it necessary to adapt my compositions to your understanding.”
Cherubini actually antagonized Napoleon on numerous occasions - and he paid for it, with not being appointed for the "right jobs", throughout most of his career. Another time, he said to Napoleon: "Citoyen Général, I perceive that you love only that music which does not prevent you thinking of your politics". 

Ligeti

Ligeti's music is made of clouds of sound. Of little streams and unexpected big rivers. Of whispering forests. And muddy earth, sometimes. And flames and sparkles everywhere. I like his use of the highest register, in particular. At times almost suffocating.
He maybe repeats himself in some pieces. But overall, I love his music. It makes me envious!

"Today"

I meant to finish this much earlier - but I was "delayed" mostly for 2 reasons:

- I wanted to write a piece that alluded to the brass bands of Romania. I wanted that "wild", "raw", "coarse", "rough", "noisy" sound. And of course, that means there are allusions to Janacek too - since the brass bands of that entire region are very similar. But at the same time, "mentally" I moved on, I want to try completely different sounds and writing, next time. And I am anxious to do that, so my mind wasn't entirely on this particular brass piece. Even though, I subjectively think it is "fun"!
- I spent a good number of days, uploading and backing up all my photos and videos, online. And that wasn't very productive, otherwise, as I was for most of those days in acute nostalgia, completely distracted.

This is the second brass piece, following "Tomorrow". I wrote this for "standard" size section + 3 extra trumpets. But how I wish I had 9 trumpets like Janacek, and maybe 8 horns and 6 trombones and 2 timpanists!
Similarly I used "small" cells that develop through repetition and variation, through the piece.

One "peculiar" thing about Romanian brass bands is that often the "melody" is played by 4-5 instruments at the same time. But they are not really in unison. They all have their own personality! Sometimes (but not always!) they start and finish more or less at the same time - but in between, each instrument presents its own version of the "melody", maybe rhythmically different, with different ornaments, embellishments, etc. Is like you always have multiple versions of the melody at the same time! It's quite amazing, I think!

Here is a demo of the piece - the cover photo is of "Portrait of Mlle Pogany" by Brancusi.

Switched to another mobile :)

I didn't get to work that much on my other brass piece, yesterday, as I got a new mobile and... spent most of the day playing with that, transferring data, trying a few roms, etc.
It's a Galaxy Note 4 - I moved from a Somny Xperia. I tried first the stock image, but I quickly got bored with it. Then I installed the "Emotion Revolution" rom, but got stuck in a boot loop. I then tried the SimplRom, but I didn't like the sound - I think Viper4android causes problems, you can hear it especially in quiet music, or when there is a break. Plus the rom was just a bit too "simpl" for my taste.
I then went back to "Emotion Revolution" but this time I made sure to flash the modem and the bootloader, and -no more boot loop! I really like the rom so far actually!

I restored most apps from the playstore, but I didn't want to lose my WhatsApp messages and my SMS. To restore WhatsApp I used Titanium Backup, and to restore the SMS I used the SMS Backup and Restore app. Everything worked fine.

One of the main reasons for which I got a Galaxy Note 4 was becuase of the bigger screen and the S-Pen - which I intend to use with the music notation app "NotateMe". I tried that a bit today, and I think it has promise. But I need to get used a bit more to"write" music on it - my hand writing is a bit too excentric for the app, at the moment!

Anyway, I'll go back to my piece. I made quite a few changes.

Two ballet premieres, one year apart

Two important ballet premieres took place on this day, just over 100 years ago.
First the ballet version of "L'après-midi d'un faune" - with Nijinsky. Stravinsky was in the audience. Exactly one year later, again May 29, was the premiere of the "Rite of Spring", and again with choreography by Nijinsky. Though many musicians like to mention the "riot" that followed the "Rite of Spring", the truth is on both occasions the "scandal" was caused mostly by the choreography, not really by the music. Actually most reviews barely mentioned the music at all. In fact "L'après-midi d'un faune" had caused a "riot" just the year before the "Rite of Spring", after Nijinsky ended it by simulating masturbation in front of a full house.

Liszt Piano Concerto No. 2

I'll just say a few words on this because it is one of those pieces many musicians might not necessarily enjoy playing.
What I like about it could perhaps be resumed in 3 main "ideas":

1. It is strikingly original. But my view of "original" is very "complicated"! It is relatively easy to write something that contains elements that are "different". The history of music is full of composers that "innovated" but nobody knows them now. In some way, one could argue that almost any "original" aspect of a "major" composer was anticipated, if not preceded by some minor composer in a now forgotten piece. Even today, modern music is full of "innovations" everywhere, but it is rarely actually original! I think there are at least 3 aspects of originality that must be satisfied, for it to really count as such. First of all, the "new" and original must arise from a need to express something genuine, and not as a gimmick. Secondly, it must make sense artistically, it should be an organic part of a coherent and convincing "whole", not stand against it. Thirdly, it must contribute to the defining "voice" of a composer, or artist. Only when all these conditions are met, a composer and a work is truly original. Many minor composers, instead (today too!) were "superficially" original - the history of music is full of them. But not truly original, because their originality is often a gimmick, or it doesn't contribute artistically to the work, certainly not in a coherent convincing way.

But then comes a truly original composer, for example Berlioz - and he is inspired by the "originality" in a Mehut or a Spontini, and maybe even "steals" some of it! But then when he uses it, it suddenly it is art! Because it is an organic part and it becomes a convincing element in his "voice" unlike when the "other composer" attempted it.

Same with Liszt! He might have heard the "Concertos symphoniques" of Henry Litolff and been influenced by them. And many other things: bits of Weber, Schubert, etc But what he absorbed and came out in the second piano concerto, was truly "Liszt"! And despite being a piece with a structure like no other, certainly for the time, it is a convincing "whole". There is a clear thematic unity in it. Motives continually transform and metamorphose into something else. But it is more like a symphonic poem, in its structure (Liszt championed the genre after all) than like a concerto, And it is clearly "Liszt"- his "voice". You can easily hear the mephistophelian Liszt, and the asphixiatingly beautiful, almost Wagnerian sugary moments, ha! Anyway...

2. It has moments of great beauty. Usually the lyrical ones. The beautiful French Horn Solo at the beginning, the Cello solos, the 2 violin solos, the divided violin line in the high register (that is almost  like a "Lohengrin" moment!), and some of the piano cadenzas. etc. Well, those are some of my favorite, at least...

3. It is so typically Romantic - restless, and unsettled, and it has plenty of musical ambiguity, which Liszt was very good at. It never really stays anywhere for long. Themes are not really completed, when you think you are safe in a tonality, or in a time signature, you are not! You relax at your own risk!

Anyway - enoughof this, cause I want to do some other work! :D

Polystylism

I listened yesterday to William Bolcom's "Songs of Innocence and of Experience". It made me think again about polystylism. I like the idea of polystylism, first of all because I believe it offers a virtually unlimited range of tools and expressive possibilities to artists and composers. The most important thing, beyond any other, is the expressive quality of art and music. Or else, why do we really do it? Thus, if in piece of art, or music, somebody manages to imagine and "invent" and bring into existence a work that is so expressive and varied and convincing while using polystylism, style is entirely unimportant. Rules and barriers and preconceptions, are much less interesting than a moving, inspiring, coherent, perhaps even life changing message.

But here is where the problem comes. Can something that uses polystylism extensively be truly coherent, and convincing, and balanced as a whole? Because polystylism per se is just a gimmick if it is used as a goal in itself, and not as a means to unexplored expressive heights! Polystylism should only happen because of a genuine need of expressing something beyond stylistic barriers. And it should be totally convincing, unless you want to create nothing more than caricatures. And those were interesting for a while - but there are too many around now, there is nothing new in it anymore. If a work switches too often, too suddenly, between styles that are maybe too "far" from eachother, it becomes an "artistic schizophrenia". Of course that can and should be surprises, but too many of them and there is no more surprise, but only an incoherent, incomprehensible mess.

Also, I know from my experience among other musicians, friends - and myself too - that it takes very little for somebody to decide they don't like a piece. Maybe just because of a short passage they for some reason find "boring", or "irritating", etc People can easily "condemn" a piece even only because of a short section of it.

Now, I don't want to imply that "Songs of Innocence and of Experience" fails. But so far, I am not convinced it succeeds either.

I don't have time for more now, I'm afraid.

"Irreversible" - "Tomorrow"

These are 2 versions of a piece for Brass section (4 horns, 3 trumpets, 3 trombones, tuba), timpani, bass drum and tam tam.
It is strange how this one came to be. I meant to write a piece for brass section, but not this one! This was just meant to be a preparation, an exercise in the sonorities, etc. I only meant to write some bars of different sounds. But somehow, in the end I turned it into a piece. But I want to write another one, completely different.

I am going to call this first piece "Tomorrow" - and the next one "Today". And together call them "Irreversible" - an idea inspired from a French movie I watched years ago.

From what I remember, the movie starts at the end of the story - something terrible happened, you have no idea what, you hear a horribly loud alarm, a body taken out from somewhere, etc. Then the camera starts to spin - like the whole world spins - and when it stabilizes again, we see what happened 10 minutes before. Then again, the "world starts to spin", and when it stabilizes we see what happened 10 minutes before that, etc, until the end of the movie. It takes a while until you understand what is going on, and there are some truly horrible scenes! But as you get closer and closer to the beginning of the story (and the end of the movie), the atmosphere is more and more peaceful and happy. However you know what is coming, you know what is going to happen - because it has already happened. It is irreversible!

The music for the pieces, is not inspired by the movie at all, but  the first piece is very dark! And it has a fairly terrifying crescendo before  the recap, I'd say - especially as it should sound played by a full brass section plus the percussion rolls! :)

 "Today" will be very different though. But like in the movie, if the pieces were played together, I'd imagine "Tomorrow" played first, followed by "Today" - hence "Irreversible".

And as I used paintings for my previous soundcloud tracks and I liked it, I used Caravaggio's "Medusa" for this one.

Destiny

Almost 100 years ago yesterday, Janacek was saved from being hit by a train, after falling on the railway, in Brno. Luckily that did not happen - or else there would be no Sinfonietta, no "Intimate Letters", no Taras Bulba, no Glagolitic Mass, etc. Everything can change in a minute.

Brass fanfares

 OK, finally a bit of time to work on a brass fanfare. And I looked at a few brass "fanfares" recently for "inspiration", but speaking of Janacek again, yesterday I looked at the score for the fanfare in Sinfonietta. Actually I think it is brilliant how the entire fanfare movement is made out of 2 motives, basically: the one that appears in the trumpets (second half of which is anticipated in the timpani) and the descending chords in the tenor tubas, which, when repeated, seem related to the second part of the other motive too. The great thing about having 9 trumpets in groups of 3 is not only that they can be loud, but they can be loud for some time, because they can bump each other.

I wanted to write one brass fanfare. But I think, I'll do at least 2. Because I'd really like to get a bit of the sound of a band like those in Moldova. But first I want to try something else...

Well here is one of those bands:

Ambivalent about Janacek

I don't know... I am ambivalent about Janacek. I like that he sounds very original and wild. (though that is really the stuff written at the end of his life; the earlier music is more "Germanic", late romantic). It is so clear that his best music "grows out" of the inflections and intonation and rhythm of the Czech language. And he has his own way of developing his musical ideas, usually through repetition and variation of short motives and patterns. (Enescu too considered that the "best" way of developing folk inspired music, as he thought using "western" symphonic development on those types of motives wouldbe like "setting diamonds in stone": -> bad). But that to me, also makes his music sound sometimes somehow superficial. Because the motives are always fairly short and "primitive" - there are no truly long lines. The patterns are always slightly twisted, warped. It is like a puzzle of many small pieces stuck together somehow artificially. The orchestration is always "in your face" and spaced in "funny" ways. And most of the times it is developed following the same "recipe". But Janacek, like the Russians, during and before his time, was looking for a "Slavic", non-Germanic sound. And he succeeded there. In some ways he is like a more modern (and less alcoholic, I guess!) version of Mussorgsky. With similar aspirations: to find a "slavic" sound, to derive the essence of the motives from the spoken language, etc.
Sometimes his music reminds me of the late poems of Dvorak, who Janacek idolized. But still, Dvorak was in essence a composer in the Germanic tradition. Janacek at his best was not. I don't know...
OK, rant over, sorry!

My "Schiele Quartet"

I've just finished writing a string quartet. I call it "my "Schiele Quartet", because the "departure point" of each movement is a particular painting by Egon Schiele. I wouldn't want anybody to think, though, that I mean to "represent" in music the painting! We often look at, or interpret paintings differently, and what I "see" may be different from what someone else would! It doesn't matter.
Maybe the painting is just the start of something else...
The first movement is "inspired by Schiele's "The Embrace". For me "The Embrace" is nothing like Klimt's "The Kiss", for example. I think "The Embrace" is intense, elemental, all consuming. I often think of paintings as "frozen moments of expression" - or maybe "frozen moments of intense expression". In a way, they are "perfect"! Because that moment will never pass, that atmosphere will never stop, what they express is almost eternal! An embrace, for example, will never break. They are not subject to the limits of our human condition.
I can even imagine this painting as "the last embrace", if I want to. Anyway, enough about the painting!
The main "body" of the music is essentially a Fugue, which is "encapsulated" by 2 very different sections. The first: tumultuos, intense, "all-consuming"; the last: tragic, an "adio" (the Romanian word of "Good bye for ever!"). At the end a quick allusion to the beginning too.
I wrote this fairly quickly, in fairly awful circumstances - some of it at the hospital... I may still change it, maybe add things later; I'll see...

The "departure point" for the second movement was Shiele's painting "Four Trees"; Four, lonely, desolate trees - and an "apocalyptic sky... I wrote a shorter and a longer version of this movement. The longer version  has a "mournful" canon, and then a quote of a particular verse from my recent choir piece. But I really don't feel like talking about it. I wrote almost all of this movement, like the previous one too, around my mum. Or right next to her. It has to do with Schiele's paintings too, but it is a lot more personal than that.
I finished this piece at 5 in the morning on a Monday, a few weeks ago. My sister and I gave her the last morphine at 5.30. At 6 she passed away, after so much suffering... But to me, she is immortal.

The '3rd movement': "Portrait of Herbert Rainer aged about 6 years". No tragedy in this one! But playful, naughty - or rather mischievous - slightly grotesque music. It is a Scherzo. With some allusions (but not that obvious!) to that great master of "magic" scherzos, Mendelssohn. I like my "allusions"! The previous movement had its "coded allusions" to Sibelius, which is strange, cause I am not that great of a fan, ha!

The "departure point", as I call it, for this last piece is "The Family".
This movement is muted all the way through (not so obvious on this computer reproduction), with some extremely quiet passages, especially in the recapitulation, where the music should just ... "evaporate off the strings", almost not as a result of any movement from the performers! So, if you listen to it, don't turn the volume too high, it should be "end of Mahler 9" type quiet, in the outer sections, especially, at the end! It is unfortunately hard to create a huge scale of dynamics on the computer... The middle section has a "wild", over the top, extravagant, "Eastern-European" episode! But still muted - it should be like a "hurricane in a cup". The outer sections should be extremely free. I struggled to suggest that on the computer. I had to use "Notes inégales". The entire thing would sound so much better with real musicians! I was also quite exasperated by a glissando which I just can't fake well on the computer...
But I don't want to talk about the music, or the painting! As Tom Redmond
would say: "let the music take you wherever it ... takes you!"


Here is a sample of my "immaculate" handwriting, while I was working on this!

OK, here is the entire piece, as a soundcloud playlist, with the movements in the "right" order. Even though it is a "Schiele quartet", expressionist angst and all that, and I am no doubt crossing a very "blue period" myself, the quartet is not all entirely desolate! It has a "light" scherzo, a mostly "playful" fugue, some wild, Eastern-European folk inspired bits, etc. But yes, some truly dark passages too, I guess.
For now with the long(er) version of the second movement and the short(er) version of the last movement. This is unfortunately a computer reproduction - not too bad. But, some things are ... missing. For example there should be occasionally a bit less of a "sense of pitch". Some "battuto", "col legno", "sul ponts", some glissandos, etc.. There is a ricochet passage, too.
But hopefully I can manage to perform it and maybe record it soon with real musicians! :)

Walton and his "rhythmic vitality"

We've just played Walton 1 (the first symphony). And I thought, I really like his rhythmic vitality! His music seems to me often so full of energy of a "healthy" kind! Life affirming! Ha! As I said, vitality. I am not always impressed with how he develops his ideas. But, still, those ideas are often quite attractive! Which is more than can be said about plenty of other composers.

And then I thought, there must be there people thinking exactly that! So I curiously searched , and found really tons of articles mentioning those exact words, in relation to his music: "rhythmic vitality", etc. So here's an entirely unoriginal observation, it seems!

East/West Berlin divide still visible from space due to different light bulbs

East/West Berlin divide still visible from space due to different lightbulbs pic.twitter.com/B7MRLFh046

— SciencePorn (@SciencePorn) May 3, 2015

Barenboim's Reith Lectures

I enjoyed listening to the Reith lectures Barenboim gave in 2006. In some way, I was expecting more; but, I forget they are not aimed specifically at musicians. I like his overall idea that one can learn about and better understand life, through music. And that clearly is not just a "nice sounding line" for him. He frequently compares the sense of timing, or proportion, subversion, harmony, balance, etc in music, with "real life" equivalents. Even politics. See the bit about the Oslo agreement and Beethoven's Pathetique Sonata, ha! :D (I think that is in the 2nd or 3rd lecture) And I like it, because ... I am also maybe "weird" in that sense, and happen to "see" musical (or programming) "metaphors" and analogies, so often, in real life! Some, who had the "privilege" of hearing me rant (sorry!) about that, will know I call them "metaphors", ha! Pretty much everything in real life can be interpreted (and hopefully better understood and clarified) as a musical (or programming) metaphor. But I am not Barenboim, perhaps I am just a little insane, after all!

And speaking of musical metaphors; sharps flats and naturals, foreign to the "general order", immigrants from other keys; can upset the tonality, no doubt, but bring colour and variety to it.

Anyway, back to the lectures - here are some great passages from the last of Barenboim's Reith lectures:

"There is nothing that I must not see in order to see, and there is no knowledge that I must forget." (Barenboim quotes Martin Buber)

"I believe people don't think about music... They just let it wash over them, and operate on them in an almost animal way! Music to me is sound with thought."

"Throughout these lectures I have been attempting to draw parallels between the inexpressible content of music and the inexpressible content of life...we have talked about the distinction between hearing and listening, the need to have a point of view, both in music and in life"

"Music shows us the inevitable flow of life, which depends on change"

"Music teaches us that everything is connected"

Speaking about power, strength and transparency - in music and life: "Even the most powerful chord has to allow for the inner voices to be heard; otherwise it has no tension, only brutal aggressive power. You must hear the opposition; the notes that oppose the main idea. In other words, the concept of transparency is essential in music, because if it is not aurally transparent, you cannot actually get the totality of the music... You only get one line of it!"

"In Jerusalem today, we have come full circle - this too I learned from music, ladies and gentlemen - because when you perform a piece of music, you have to be able to hear the last note, before you play the first." etc., etc.

Barenboim - ReithLecture no. 5