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Masterprize
Tel: +44 (0)20 7233 0111 Masterprize site designed by Room101 Ltd |
| Symphonie No 6 Opus 60 (1998) | Les Fleuves Engloutis (Eternal Rivers) (2001) - In five movements | Einstein's Violin (1998) |
| Tango (2002) | You Must Finish Your Journey Alone (1999) | Rainbow Body (2000) |
Can a symphony of 12 minutes be a 'real symphony'?
It seems to me that the answer to that question may be yes, if the work in question fits the conceptual criteria of the genre, setting to one side any preoccupation with the physical length of the piece and assuming - as I believe to be the case - that music (and this is not the least of its paradoxes) is not so much an art which is concerned with the organisation of time but rather of its abolition.
I believe that purely symphonic art (and sonata form) was created by composers who have been driven to try to create a coherence of musical discourse which is based on the development (even at times the metamorphosis) of recurring ideas forming a series of more or less accentuated contrasts but which hold together as an organic whole. The result of this basic idea obviously varies according to the particular composer, but if I had to highlight one constant factor, I would choose the extreme concentration of the writing and the expressive density which results from that, in whatever period you care to choose and regardless of the different aesthetic pre-occupations involved. Indeed, I cannot see why the physical brevity of a piece should be an obstacle to the successful development of its characteristics. What brevity should achieve is in fact to heighten the organic wholeness of the piece by making the listener's perception of the contrasts even more acute. In short, a work of this kind should result, paradoxically, in an intensifying of the symphonic genre.
It was with that challenge in mind that I embarked on the composition of this symphony. I saw in the formal concentration which I had adhere to, because of the time-constraint placed on me by Radio France, the opportunity to explore more precisely than hitherto, the idea that the same, continuously varied, material, could itself present different facets (hence the sub-title which I was tempted to give to the work). The fact that these different facets are themselves the basis (or rather the pretext) of a reference, as faithful in the spirit as it is disrespectful in the letter, to the forms which have come to us from the baroque and classical eras has been a standard feature of my style since the early 1990s.
This piece is dedicated to Serge Nigg who was my teacher at the CSNM in Paris and to whom I owe a debt of heart-felt gratitude.
Nicolas Bacri
Les Fleuves Engloutis (Eternal Rivers) (2001)
In five movements
Eternal Rivers speaks of love between peoples and peace in our world. The Rivers represent the human being traversing life like a shooting star crossing eternal space. Man, like Jesus, was born to suffer, but also to struggle and to hope. Thus he transcends life. This work stands against racism and xenophobia, against dictatorship and death, when Man finds himself confronted face to face with himself.
- Fog: Despite his fundamentally good self, Man feels threatened by himself as he looks around at the death and destruction we wreak upon the world. He loses his sense of the spirit and all higher impulses in him are smothered.
- Song of Silence: All alone, Man finds the silence welling up inside him, a silence that speaks more fully of the depth of human and universal thought, thereby revealing to him the truth of a better, brighter future.
- Alert: This is when all the dangers crowd in on Man. He is vulnerable, threatened from all sides, from dictatorship and hate. Freedom is teetering on the edge of the abyss, almost projected into the darkness.
- Struggle: Man's destiny and his belief in the possibility of a freer world give him strength to fight for the essential values of human civilisation. Since the birth of Man these values have gradually spread, linking modern thought to our memory that stretches back several millennia.
- Song of the Rivers: While always raising the same plea - why all this suffering...? - Man of the Eternal Rivers lifts up his victorious voice in unison with Nature to sing of love and freedom. He projects himself unambiguously into the future, knowing that positive and universal thought will win one day and reign across the world...
Bechara El-Khoury
Eternal Rivers (2001) was commissioned by Radio France and recorded by the National Orchestra of France. The first full radio broadcast of the work took place on September 11 2002. Published by Max Editions Eschig.
The name, Einstein's Violin, came to me through several abstract thoughts and reflections while I was composing the piece during the months from December 1997 to March 1998. The first idea was based on the busyness and relentless energy of the principle section of the scherzo. It reminded me of Brownian Motion, the random collision of molecules suspended in a liquid or gas, which is the subject of one of Einstein's famous papers. I was ruminating on the developmental parallel between the atomic bomb and dissonance in 20th-century (musical) harmony. The nuclear age proceeded over the first half of the 20th-century as scientists unlocked the secrets of the atom by various discoveries and technological advances, culminating in the destruction of Hiroshima and Nagasaki by the use of the A-bomb. Following WW II, we entered the Cold War which ultimately led to a series of treaties and international efforts to limit the use of atomic weapons, as we sought to a return to an earlier age of safety, realizing the potential for total destructive power was in the fingertips of a person who could 'push the button.' "
"I see a similar destructive and resoluble development in 20th century music. The parallel is in the manipulation of dissonance. Formerly a device used in music to create tension followed by resolution, many composers of the 20th century have released dissonance to a harmonic language of it's own --- so much so, that by mid-century they had alienated most of their audiences. In Einstein's Violin, I've attempted to connect with composers of past centuries by using devices such as sequences, modulations, and traditional forms, in combination with 20th-century harmonic language, thus hopefully diminishing the destructive impact of 20th-century dissonance."
"Of course the piece is not all about frenetic, destructive motion. In the second theme, pensive feelings and melancholy over life cut short, contributed to the unresolved suspension at the end of this section."
"I was also mindful that Einstein loved classical music and enjoyed playing his violin. In this piece, the strings, particularly the violins, seem to be caught up in some Brownian Motion of their own! I thought is prophetic that as I was doing the final editing, India and Pakistan became the latest countries with nuclear bomb capabilities. Given all the above, the title Einstein's Violin seemed an appropriate metaphor."
Tango (2002)
Tango -
a dance, a life story, a way of life, fate, passion,
a metaphor for yet other things, inexpressible in words,
a state of being of the soul, in which heaven and hell become confused, creating some new reality, a fresh point of view on an already familiar means of expression.
The preceding century elevated this dance from tiny café-bars (written about by the Latvian poet Caks) to the heights of great concert halls.
Tango -
in taverns, in city streets flashing with midnight lights and tango - in the greatest theatres, the most illustrious concert houses.
Tangos have been written by Stravinsky, Ravel, Shostakovitch, even our own Janis Medins, and by many, many others.
Astor Piazzolla - the classic writer of tangos, one of the late 20th century's most distinctive musical voices.
I wanted to unite all these many facets of tango in one dramatic story for symphony orchestra, a piece of music some 12 minutes long. Of course, it has its own internal form, and probably, as in the theatre, separate roles. Ravel did something on these lines at the beginning of the 20th century with the waltz. I would like to try it out with the Tango!
Arturs Maskats
You Must Finish Your Journey Alone (1999)
"YOU MUST FINISH YOUR JOURNEY ALONE
Where is the journey going?
YOU MUST FINISH THE JOURNEY ALONE
The journey must be going somewhere though!
The position we're in is hardly recognisable. Music gives us courage! Orpheus even used music to force entry to the underworld. Yet talking about music can be risky. (Perhaps Orpheus looked round because Euridike called out from behind, "Darling, you play the guitar so well!")
'YOU MUST FINISH YOUR JOURNEY ALONE' is the way it is because it could also be the other way round. It goes the way it does (sometimes it runs too) because it could also go backwards which would then be going forwards of course. It is designed that way so that no-one would notice if the piece didn't go forward but backwards - perhaps it is even going backwards. It would then be a different piece, but not a senseless or levelled-off one, but just a different piece. Going backwards would also be recognised as going forwards.
Therefore the piece is not a palindrome like 'ROTATOR' but a word like 'REED' and '
' the characters don't want to play the game. They are not made for such impudence. Aha, some of them seem more cunning than others: We will never, ever find out whether they have just turned themselves round quite quickly.
Even the notes don't like to have themselves turned round. Actually most tones don't either. If you don't question them and simply turn their meaning round then the poor tones are powerless. They have no idea of their meaning and no understanding for the idea. They probably don't notice it at all. Their meaning is simply turned round and left as it is.
Unfortunately there are also completely contrary tones: they turn themselves round just when (or because, who knows?) you hear them, they turn themselves round of their own accord, they suddenly become quite wild. Some turn themselves round quite slowly so that you get to hear them from the side inbetween before you then hear them from behind. Some turn themselves round so quickly and violently that you don't get to hear them from behind at all, because they turn their first side to you straightaway - haven't you heard - or was it the back side all along? Some have already long since distorted themselves and a few quite mean ones only turn themselves round at the end. Which ones? No-one is immune to surprise. That's why it is risky to talk about music.
Creating music is like searching for the word everyone is waiting for."
Over the past few years I have been listening to the music of medieval mystic Hildegard von Bingen a great deal and, as a simple and direct as this music is, I am constantly amazed by its staying power. Hildegard's melodies have very memorable contours which set them apart from other chants of the period. They are wonderfully sensual and set up a very intimate communication with the divine. This work is based on one of her chants, "Ave Maria, O auctrix vite" (Hail Mary, source of life).
Rainbow Body begins in an understated, mysterious manner, calling attention to some of the key intervals and motives of the piece. When the primary melody enters for the first time about a minute into the work, I present it very directly in the strings without accompaniment. In the orchestration, I try to capture a halo around this melody, creating a wet acoustic by emphasizing the lingering reverberations one might hear in an old cathedral.
Although the piece is built essentially around fragments of the melody, I also return to the tune in its entirety several times throughout the work, as a kind of plateau of stability and peace within an otherwise turbulent environment. Rainbow Body has a very different sensibility from the Hildegard chant, with a structure that is dramatic and developmental, but I hope that it conveys at least a little of my love for the beauty and grace of her work.
Rainbow Body is dedicated to Glen Rosenbaum, without whose support and encouragement I would not be composing.
Christopher Theofanidis