recitals to ponder | Richibi's Weblog

December 19, 2017

Symphony no 14, opus 135 – Dmitri Shostakovich

“Portrait of Shostakovich“ (1976)

_______

though I’d feared undertaking Shostakovich’s
14th Symphony – it would be a set of eleven
movements, each setting its own poem to
music, poems by Federico García Lorca,
Guillaume Apollinaire, Rainer Maria Rilke,
and one Wilhelm Küchelbecher, translated
from their respective languages into Russian,
compounded by once again the fact that this
wasn’t either a symphony, but strictly speaking
a song cycle – I found the 14th Symphony to be,
counterintuitively, a triumph, all the issues I’d
earlier listed as compositional misadventures
– the play of voice and instruments, the dangers
of using a single singer, one pitch, to anchor an
orchestral work – had been dealt with expertly,
all the obbligatos, even, were back, I couldn’t
wait to hear it again

Schubert had done several song cycles,
“Die Schöne Müllerin“, “Schwanengesang“,
“Winterreise“, for instance, sad stories,
steeped in Romantic torment, not unlike,
still in 1969, Shostakovich the 14th

Schubert, though, accompanies with just a
piano

but a music cycle, without voice this one,
no poems, just musical ones, of Liszt, his
“Années de pèlerinage“, his “Years as a
Pilgrim“, three years, one, two, three,
1835 through to 1838, travelling through
Switzerland and Italy, is consummate,
ethereal, exquisite, and goes on for a
few utterly enchanting hours

one New Year’s Eve, I sat before a cozy fire,
comfortable on my fluffy sofa, cuddled up
in the several picturesque melodies along
the musical way, like station stops on a
train

I did the entire trip with him, nearly three
hours, the music like a sonic looking glass,
a hearing glass, a hearing film, not only
transparent, but transcendental, into a
very wonderland, beyond even its mere
incidental geography

that’s what art does, and music, when
you look, listen

enjoy

R ! chard

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November 30, 2017

Shostakovich – intermission

“Five Angels Playing Musical Instruments“ (c.1487 – 1490)

Hans Memling

__________

the “Quartet for the End of Time“ by
Messiaen, which I lauded in my last
transmission, is perhaps a wonderful
place to take a break, an intermission,
from the central Shostakovich, mighty
and imperial as he is, perhaps even
overbearing, compared to the more
introspective meanderings of Messiaen,
bird calls, philosophical, if more organic
explorations, a radically different musical
reaction to the tyrannical tribulations of
Shostakovich, but not in the least less
viable, convincing, you can decide

Beethoven’s 14th String Quartet in
C# minor, here, seems an apposite
musical counterpart also, a model
for the tortured movements, implicit
in either other incendiary work

note how the several movements in
either quartet hold together neatly, like
a bespoke suit, made to order, you can
follow the line of the cut in all of its
detail, and the suit fits everywhere like,
well, a glove

there are too many extra, unnecessary
ruffles, flounces, frills, excess material
to distract from the essential garment
up until now, to my mind, in Shostakovich,
one gets lost in the kerfuffle, one drifts
away, all except for his Fifth Symphony

neither do the ebb and flow of the
movements, from largo to prestissimo
and throughout the tempo ledger, lead
to distinct, personal, statements from
the individual parts in Shostakovich,
as they do in Messiaen, Beethoven,
when they slip from one chapter to
the next

Shostakovich seems to return to, rely
on, the same, however magisterial
technique – the guy ‘s an obvious
symphonist, an orchestrator of
instruments of the very highest order
– but with the same melodic matter,
variations on a single complaint, too
often reiterated to maintain rapt
attention from start to finish, one
wanders

it might be noted that comparing
string quartets and symphonies is
like comparing apples and oranges

but listen to any Beethoven symphony
for an array of unforgettable musical
airs, dances, dirges, marches, lyrical
romps through Elysian fields, you’re
transfixed through to the very end,
always, everywhere

nevertheless there is indeed the
splendid, and thoroughly
successful Shostakovich Fifth

and alone, the first movement of his
Seventh, which I’m still singing in
the streets

to eternally validate Shostakovich as
the greatest composer of the Twentieth
Century, along with Messiaen

R ! chard

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November 29, 2017

Symphony no 7 in C major, opus 60, the “Leningrad”- Dmitri Shostakovich

“Leningrad in blockade. Sketch on the theme of
“Leningrad Symphony” of D. D. Shostakovich.“
(c.1943)

Mstislav Dobuzhinsky

__________

though I’ve been through the Seventh
three times already, consecutively, it
doesn’t reach, for me, the heights the
Fifth did, its first movement is
manifestly imperious, nearly even
overwhelming, certainly unforgettable,
I’ve been humming the ostinato in my
sleep

but the following movements seem to
me – not being Russian, nor having as
intimately incorporated their culture,
where rhythms and history are
inextricably intertwined – muddled
about the reconstruction of its
shattered world, melodies might be
lovely but are lost in a blur of musical
directions, there isn’t enough repetition
of musical motifs to find solid ground,
angry statements follow lyrical adagios
too often to get our bearings on what
might be going on

the first movement, however, remains a
triumph, note the debt owed to Ravel’s
“Bolero“ in the rousing ostinato, the
part where the same musical phrase
obstinately repeats its peremptory and
ever more vociferous mantra, its
headlong incantation, an interesting
blend in either symphonic work of the
sinuous, the seductive, the beguiling,
turning into the overtly martial, all to
do with pulse

the Symphony no 7, the “Leningrad”,
was first presented in that very city
during its siege by the Germans,
which lasted from 1941 to 1944,
however unbelievably, Shostakovich,
already a giant, was expected to deliver
a masterpiece by both the people and
by the regime, imagine Bono doing a
concert for Syria

Shostakovich doesn’t disappoint

players were culled from what remained
of instrumentalists among the survivors
of both Stalin’s criminal purges and of
the German siege itself left in the city,
those who hadn’t survived the famine
there, Valery Gergiev, an exalted
Russian conductor, describes them as
walking skeletons, meagre from
starvation, we’ve seen these before at
Auschwitz

the world heard, and was moved,
imperialism in any form was being
vociferously condemned, going back
to Napoleon even and his own failed
invasion, if not also to Hannibal
crossing the Alps, Caesar, his
Rubicon

much of this symphony is about cultural
resistance, the survival of a proud and
resilient seed, any proud and resilient
seed, hence its international standing

see Beethoven’s 9th Symphony for
comparable fanfare, flourish, and
circumstance, the only other work of
any such historical political importance
and, appreciably, still unsurpassed,

except for, maybe, Roger Waters
channeling Pink Floyd at the Berlin
Wall, along with, not incidentally
there, again Beethoven

R ! chard

psst: the other great composer of the
20th Century, Messiaen, also
composed a commemoration of
an awful moment in our history,
the Holocaust, his “Quartet for
the End of Time“, played originally
in his very concentration camp by
  similarly “walking skeletons”, does
  for me everything Shostakovich’s
  Seventh didn’t

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September 6, 2017

on “Elegy for the Victims of the Tsunami of March 11, 2011 in Japan” – Nobuyuki Tsujii

“Tsunami“ (1998)

Jacek Yerka

__________

while watching Nobuyuki Tsujii play the
extraordinarily demanding Tchaikovsky
First Piano Concerto on television the
other night, with no less than Valery
Gergiev, conducting the resident
orchestra at the Mariinsky Theatre in
Moscow, for its White Nights, I was
wonderstruck by the challenges a
visually handicapable pianist would
have to conquer in order to reach
such an apogee

everything must be learned by ear, all
items must be discovered tactually,
from the piano itself to the very
individual keys, not to mention
the player’s very own fingers

there can be no visual contact with a
conductor, either, for cues, for
instance, nor for any other
accompaniment, for neither even an
audience, it would all take place in
the dark recesses of the head, the
amorphous and, I suppose,
confounding, cerebellum

later he played for an encore his own
composition, “Elegy for the Victims of
the Tsunami of March 11, 2011 in Japan“,
a fine addition to my budding collection
of threnodies

and a very, very moving piece

an elegy, incidentally, is usually written,
while a threnody is composed, but these
terms are often used interchangeably, as,
indeed, they are here

you’ll note the utterly Classical mode of
composition of the “Elegy“, it adheres to
a uniform tonality, a consistent tempo,
and the grounding and comfort of
repetition, returning always to the main,
endearing air, rather than more modern
tripwires and stridencies, traditionalism
being not an inappropriate, nor ineffective,
mode of address for honoured forebears

long live Classicism

R ! chard

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September 2, 2017

on “Song to the Moon” – Antonin Dvořák

“Rising Moon“ (1964)

Hans Hofmann

__________

the moon was out last night, grand
upon the starlit evening, either
waxing or waning, I’m not sure, but
not full, a gibbous moon, above the
buildings that scrape, in my big city
neighbourhood, in the very Cubist
manner, the night sky, see above

I’d been listening to Renée Fleming
singing Dvořák‘s “Song to the Moon“
in my head since I’d seen her do it,
on television, in a summer evening
concert at Schönbrunn, Vienna, some
few days ago, she, it, had been utterly,
sublimely, enchanting, I’m a Cancer, a
moon child, I speak to the moon

to the moon, I said, moon in the dark
heavens, who steal into every home
and hearth at night, find my beloved
and tell him what is in my heart, rapt
as I was in the spell of my special
planet, my personal orb, and the
enveloping Dvořákian magic, though
there’s been no beloved lately, just
trailings of the latest one who broke,
of course, my heart, which gives more
pathos, however, incidentally, to my
singing, I’ve giddily gathered

at home, I found Renée Fleming doing
the piece on the Internet, entirely as
splendidly, earlier, at London’s Royal
Albert Hall, September, 2010

listen

R ! chard

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August 11, 2017

threnodies: to the victims of Hiroshima, of the Holocaust, and to the Canadian North

“The Scream“ (1893)

Edvard Munch

____________

before we leave too far behind the
anniversary of the annihilation of
Hiroshima, August 6, 1945, let me
introduce you to a piece that
purports to pay it homage

if I didn’t bring it up before, it’s
because the date was wrong, but
especially because the work
offends me, the only thing I like
about it is the title, a thing of
beauty, poetry – Threnody to the
Victims of Hiroshima – a threnody
is a song of lamentation for the
dead, which worked for me, this
one, no further than its title

there is nothing remotely
reminiscent of the tragedy
throughout the piece, it is a
collection of academic exercises,
pretensions, I think, without a
heartbeat

let me compare Steve Reich’s
threnody to the victims of the
Holocaust, the other signature
Twentieth Century atrocity, his
“Different Trains“, a work in three
movements, “America – Before the
War”, “Europe – During the War”,
and “After the War”, for string
quartet and tape, upon which
Reich has recorded interviews
with people relating impressions
from before the war, during, and
after, according to the movements

the quartet, you’ll note, must keep
time with the tape, and in this
production visuals have been
effectively added

Glenn Gould had done something
like this several years earlier,
incidentally, in his “The Idea of
North“, a threnody itself to that
very idea, a masterpiece, a
groundbreaking transcendental
work of the imagination, with
overlapping voices, which is to
say human counterpoint, though
without string quartet

you’ll note that distressing tonalities
affect throughout this other, much
more successful however, tribute,
but the different rhythms of the
recurrent, which is to say minimalist,
rails keep you emotionally, as it were,
on track

“Different Trains“ is appropriately,
and profoundly, commemorative,
not to mention unforgettable

Richard

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June 23, 2017

“My Romance” – Carly Simon

“Hot Jazz“ (1940)

Franz Kline

_____

in this video of one of her concerts,
Carly Simon tells the story of how
when she told her special guest on
the program, Harry Connick Jr., that
he was born the same year as
Sgt. Pepper, he answered, Sgt. Who

“Harry, you were born the same year that
Sgt. Pepper came out”, she said
“Sgt. Who”, he answered

the same had happened to me when
I’d told someone, a sprite, ten years
younger, don’t ask, about my
admiration for Susan Hayward,
Richard, he asked, who’s Susan
Hayward, to my utter consternation

I mean, Susan Hayward

you might not know who Carly Simon
is, nor even Sgt. Pepper, but the story
is that those who once had been our
very idols fade and become question
marks in the eyes of the following
generations

you might not either know who Harry
Connick Jr. is, but listen to both of
them here, Carly and Harry, put
together an entertainment enough
to turn an otherwise lazy hour into
an unmitigated enchantment

Richard

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February 20, 2017

“First Piano Concerto” – Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky

“Concerto“ (1975)

Jack Bush

_____

if there’s a piece that defines Classical music
for most people, encapsulates it, even for
those who aren’t especially interested in
Classical music, that piece would be, I think,
Tchaikovsky‘s “First Piano Concerto“

strictly speaking Tchaikovsky isn’t a Classical
composer, but a Romantic one, the Classical
period in music having been transformed
some years earlier into the Romantic period
by none other than Beethoven, 1770 – 1827,
perhaps the most transformative composer
of all time – Tchaikovsky‘s “First Piano Concerto“
was written in the winter of 1874 – 1875, pretty
well at the end of the Romantic Period, which
then ceded to the Impressionists, just to get
our periods right

what the Romantic Period added to the
Classical Era was emotion, sentiment – note
the use of tenuto, for instance, beats being
drawn out, languidly, longingly, for pathos –
what it maintained was the structure, the
trinity of Classical conditions, rhythm, tonality,
and repetition, which is why even the most
uninformed listener will usually be able to
sing along throughout the entire performance,
the blueprint is in our collective blood, in the
DNA of our culture

to remain present a piece must remain
relevant to the promoter, an interpreter must
have reason to play it, substance surely plays
a big part, but technical considerations play
perhaps an even greater role towards a great
work’s longevity, “Chopsticks“, for instance,
is good but it won’t fill a concert hall

unless, of course, it’s with Liberace

the “First Piano Concerto” of Tchaikovsky is
the Everest of compositions, emotionally
complex and technically forbidding, nearly
impossible, it would seem, were it not for
those few who’ve mastered its treacherous
challenges, conquered its nearly indomitable
spirit

Van Cliburn put it on the map for my
generation, with a ticker tape parade in
New York to confirm it

Martha Argerich later on kept the ball rolling

and now Behzod Abduraimov, a mere youth,
born in 1990 in Uzbekistan, Tashkent, delivers
by far the best performance I’ve seen since,
giving it new life for the new millenium

behold, be moved, be dazzled, be bewitched

Behzod Abduraimov, watch

Richard

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December 6, 2016

“Octet in F major”, D803 – Franz Schubert

“Schubert At The Piano II“ (1899)

Gustav Klimt

_______

there are reasons why an octet, a
piece for eight performers, would
be a rare occurrence in our modern
world, the most flagrant being the
sheer number of players to
assemble, all with international
commitments, and all, more
specifically, working individually,
or in smaller composites

duos can play any choice of
instruments, trios as well, but
quartets are usually, which is to
say traditionally, comprised of
only strings, first and second
violins, a viola and a cello,
these three groupings, duos,
trios, quartets, are often already
formed, play or meet together
regularly

also musical compositions for such
groupings abound, the canon is
replete with music written for two,
three or four instruments

but at five participants, a quintet,
the combinations are less stable,
there isn’t enough in the
repertoire for four strings and a
clarinet, say, to play, so that a
clarinettist must be invited in
for such an occasion, any
other alternative accompanying
instrument would be fit in as
incidentally

with six, of course, and upwards,
you get egg rolls, anything can
happen

but at eight, an octet, you need
friends, people who’ll gather from
their individual busy schedules to
perform specifically together out
of sympathy, much as friends
would’ve back in the Nineteenth
Century, before television, when
the form took shape, to socially
cut up the rug

if indeed it did take shape, cause I
can think of no other octet, off hand,
after Schubert’s glorious one

Schubert’s “Octet“, the composition,
with this particular octet, the group,
is probably the best you’ll ever hear
of either ever, Schubert’s D803 in F
major is everything you want
Schubert to be, and in a generous
indeed six movements, while
Janine Jansen and her friends, the
octet performing here, with the
requisite four strings, plus a horn,
a bassoon and a clarinet, are
magisterial, dare I say definitive,
the standard now to exceed

octets, incidentally, don’t do
encores, for obvious reasons

enjoy

Richard

psst: for a comparable congregation
of friends, see Roy Orbison’s
“Black & White Night“, equally
as improbable, epic

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July 22, 2016

up my idiosyncrasies – Albertine‏

“Wing Seller“ (2006)

Stefan Caltia

_______

what are you doing, a friend of mine

asked when he called

I’m reading my Proust, I answered,

comfy enough with my text, after

years waking up side by side, to

use the possessive adjective

what’s going on, he inquired

Albertine is lying on his bed, I

recounted, asleep, she’s been there

for the past ten pages, and she’s

just now turned onto her stomach

there is not so much story as

paintings, in Proust, detailed

descriptions applied like strokes of

colour to a canvas, that of recovered

time, colours that are specific to a

place and a period, like photographs

showing in their very fabric their

ancestry, their lineage

but in the elucidation of what he

sees, or, more accurately, of what

he remembers, Proust delivers

a work of the very highest art, a

mixture of poetry and philosophy,

Beethoven did as much, see his

“Hammerklavier“

Proust’s French is essentially

immaculate, his tone, however

intimate, always erudite, aristocratic,

perspicacious, wise, penetrating,

embracing, which is to say, French,

though German can be also,

incidentally, pretty cerebral, English

is narrative, just the facts, please,

though often, I think, hilarious

Albertine had been one of the “young

girls in bloom” he’d met at Balbec, a

seaside resort, with whom he’d

undertaken an illicit affair, but

whose faithfulness he doubted

as she lay on his bed at his Paris

apartment, he replays all the

speculations his imagination could

provide, an endless set of variations

on his anguish, which is to say, his

jealousy, worthy of a very Othello

for ten pages he paints a picture of

infidelities completely of his making,

which, of course, becomes the world

he will respond to

it is all in our little heads, I surmise,

however informed, intelligent, that

we create our little realities, they

have never been nearly enough,

though, indeed, our lives depend

on them, however dutifully

considered, however unconsciously,

and ever convincingly, contrived

make them, I submit, good ones

I imagine myself a poet, for instance,

how’s that for a shot in the improbable

dark

Richard

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Category: recitals to ponder

December 19, 2017

Symphony no 14, opus 135 – Dmitri Shostakovich

November 30, 2017

Shostakovich – intermission

November 29, 2017

Symphony no 7 in C major, opus 60, the “Leningrad”- Dmitri Shostakovich

September 6, 2017

on “Elegy for the Victims of the Tsunami of March 11, 2011 in Japan” – Nobuyuki Tsujii

September 2, 2017

on “Song to the Moon” – Antonin Dvořák

August 11, 2017

threnodies: to the victims of Hiroshima, of the Holocaust, and to the Canadian North

June 23, 2017

“My Romance” – Carly Simon

February 20, 2017

“First Piano Concerto” – Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky

December 6, 2016

“Octet in F major”, D803 – Franz Schubert

July 22, 2016

up my idiosyncrasies – Albertine‏

“Wing Seller“ (2006)

Stefan Caltia