Showing posts with label Mozart. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mozart. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 27, 2016

Mozart: The last three Symphonies



No-one really knows the full motivation or reason why Mozart composed what were to be his last three symphonies, or whether he heard any of them performed. What is certain is that in his last three symphonies, Mozart expanded the canvas of the relatively new genre of the symphony in both duration and emotional scope, establishing the composer's right to express personal feelings, thus paving the way for the Romantic symphony of the nineteenth century.

There’s a tendency which has developed over the centuries, to mythologise Mozart as a near Christ-like figure. His being misunderstood by society, the poverty of his last years, and early death at an age close to Christ's, along with music sounding as if from another-world, heavenly or trance-like, which is heard occasionally in his music, are factors also contributing towards a ‘deification’; Mozart however, was an all-too-human figure, he possessed what would  today be considered a coarse, and even scatological sense of humour; he enjoyed playing billiards, skittles, dancing and drinking, and at one time or another he kept as pets, a canary, a starling and a dog, along with a horse for recreational riding. It is now considered likely that Mozart's unique experience of travelling and touring extensively throughout Europe as a child and teenager, enduring the rigours and inconveniences of travel, along with exposure to various viruses and illnesses so prevalent throughout 18th century Europe, may have contributed to his early death.

Mozart’s surviving correspondence reveals an engaging personality. There is however, a huge difference in his view of life in the ten year period spanning the years from 1778 to 1788. In a letter to his cousin dated 1778 when aged 21 he humorously signs off  a letter to his cousin thus-

Adieu little coz. I am, I was, I should be, I have been, I had been, oh, if I only were, oh, that I were, would God I were; I could be, I shall be, if I were to be, oh, that I might be, I would have been, oh, that I had been, would God I had been - what? A dried cod ! Adieu ma chere Cousine, whither away ? I am your faithful cousin,
Wolfgang Amade Mozart
Mannheim, 28th February, 1778

In stark contrast, ten years later, aged 31, in one of a series of desperate begging letters to fellow Mason, Michael Puchberg, Mozart wrote-

I am obliged to tell you frankly that I cannot possibly pay back so soon the sum you lent me......My circumstances are such that I must absolutely get money... I am sorry enough to be in this situation, but that is the very reason why I want a fairly substantial sum for a fairly lengthy period, as I can then prevent its recurrence......I have done more work in ten days than in two months at any other lodgings, and were I not visited so frequently by black thoughts (which I must forcibly banish) .......  27th June, 1788

Mozart’s last three symphonies were written in a seven week period of white-heat creativity during the summer of 1788, after he and his family moved out of central Vienna to the suburb of Alsergrund. They've been described by musicologist Ralph Hill thus -

The first is, we may say, lyrical, the second dramatic, the third ceremonial. But they vary not only in character: they do so also in mood. The first has a kind of autumnal but not melancholy mellowness; the second is tragic and idyllic by turns, and somehow the latter atmosphere poignantly intensifies the former; the third utters festive sounds but at the same time gives evidence of an intense concentration of thought, the kind of foresight and hindsight that distinguishes a great mathematician or chess player.

Symphony no. 39 in E flat major (K.543) was added to Mozart’s personal catalogue, on June 26th 1788. Its solemn adagio opening movement has been likened to music accompanying a Masonic ceremony. According to Ralph Hill, ‘one secret of Mozart’s greatness... is his ability to accommodate a great many emotional or dramatic contrasts within a single tempo.’

The finale of the 39th symphony is rhythmically vigorous and startling in its sudden changes of key.

Mozart’s 40th symphony in g minor  (K. 550) was completed according to the composer’s personal catalogue on July 25th 1788. Its opening movement is probably the most well-known of all Mozart’s symphonies, partly from a kitsch pop arrangement made by Waldo de los Rios in 1971. But in fact, an uneasy calm pervades the  g minor symphony. An attentive hearing reveals there's scarcely a happy moment in any of its four movements. An under-current of quiet desperation, resignation, anxiety and even despair pervades it, making it fitting mood music for our own age.

Often named the Great g minor symphony in order to distinguish it from an earlier g minor symphony composed some fifteen years earlier in 1773 (K. 183) when Mozart was just 17 years old, the so-called, "little g minor" symphony, uniquely scored for four horns, is also full of tension and syncopated rhythms. It was influenced by the proto-Romantic German literary and music movement of Sturm und Drang (Storm and Stress) in which individual subjectivity and extremes of emotion are given free expression.

Mozart's 40th symphony in g minor, in contrast to his more conventional and cheerful music, packs a powerful emotional punch. Its minuet contains barely suppressed anger against the pomposity of the upper-classes to whom he was obliged to serve for much of his life. Here, the aristocracy appear full of self-importance as they approach the dance-floor when the invitation to the dance is announced.




Mozart’s 41st symphony (K 551) bears the nickname of The Jupiter, and is the most jovial and light-hearted of all three symphonies. An air of comic opera pervades its opening movement, while its technically brilliant final movement is described by Ralph Hill thus-

‘the ear catches everything going, so lucid and well-aired is the score, and it all flows by in a stream of beautiful music that will satisfy even those who have no notion of the incredible skill that went into its making...the attentive listener will come across..tunes combining in canon with themselves or fitting against their own inversions, entries overlapping closely in fourfold imitation..Mozart’s perfect sense of proportion and timing knows exactly when to cease showing off those dizzy contrapuntal feats, and not the least wonderful proportions of this movement are those where the music suddenly smooths itself out into a plain statement, as if nothing out of the way had happened at all.’

The Jupiter's gorgeous andante is a quintessential example of Mozartean serenity.





Discussion of key signatures in Mozart’s music, along with his artistic relationship to keys, has been a perennial debate amongst musicologists. According to Wolfgang Hildesheimer for example -

If we hear Mozart’s keys as conscious choices, not as the spontaneous expression of the composer’s momentary frame of mind, we by no means imply that we are not also experiencing the minor keys as “gloomy”, or “tragic,” or sometimes even “despairing.” Our feeling is not limited to the minor itself, but overflows and spreads, often intensified, into a major key within the minor, especially E-flat major within G minor.

Yet Hildesheimer also concedes, 'Mozart's musical thinking eludes us. He puzzles us most in those places where the music is serious, even when the material would not seem to warrant it.'

It was in 2009 while in Amsterdam that the Austrian conductor Nikolaus Harnoncourt (1929 - March 6th 2016) announced - "I have just discovered that the last three Mozart symphonies are an instrumental oratorio." Harnoncourt reasoned that because the 39th Symphony is the only one with a slow introduction, the 40th opens gently, while the 41st symphony is the only one with a full-blown finale, and that because thematic connections can be detected across all three symphonies, Mozart’s last three symphonies are in fact an inter-related triptych. Although Nikolaus Harnoncourt’s proposal that all three symphonies are a related and inter-connected triptych is without precedent, there's nonetheless also a possibility that Mozart may have taken as a model for his triptych, an example from the symphonies of the so-called 'Father of the symphony’, Joseph Haydn (1732-1809).

It was Haydn's good fortune to be invited in 1761 as Vice-Kappelmeister and placed in charge of most of the Esterházy musical establishment at Schloss Esterházy in Eisenstadt, and later on at Esterháza, a grand new palace built in the Hungarian marshes. At the very beginning of his residency at Esterhaza Joseph Haydn wrote three symphonies, numbered as 6, 7 and 8, which soon acquired the nicknames of 'Le Matin’, ‘Le Midi’ and 'Le Soir’ because they were considered to depict the progression of a day.

There's a possibility that these three early Haydn symphonies were known to Mozart. We will never know for certain whether or not this is true: but given the fact that the two composers, who became close friends, had a mutual respect, influenced each other and studied each other's compositions carefully, its just possible that these three early Haydn symphonies may have known of, or at least heard of through Haydn himself recollecting the beginning of his long service to the Esterhazy court to Mozart.

One can only speculate as to what was the inspiration for Mozart's much larger in scope, emotionally contrasted, and enigmatic symphonic triptych of 1788.

Favourite Books

Mozart : His character, his work  Alfred Einstein 1946
The Grove Mozart : Stanley Sadie 1980
Mozart : Wolfgang Hildesheimer  1977
Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart ed. Hans Mersmann 1972

Also consulted-

The Symphony Ralph Hill Pelican London 1949

Favourite Recordings

Jeffrey Tate - ENO
Carlo Maria Giulini - New Philharmonic Orchestra 1965
John Eliot Gardiner -  English Baroque Soloists

See also - Mozart in Paris

Symphonies of Joseph Haydn

In Memorium Francis Michael Faulkner (1936-1996)

Friday, May 17, 2013

The statue in alchemy


Statues have been associated with religion and spirituality from earliest recorded time to the present-day. 'From the Minoan Age and throughout the Mediterranean world of antiquity, statuettes of gods in human or animal shape were carved from terracotta, bronze, wood, or stone. They had religious significance and were deposited in graves or dedicated to the gods in shrines and in private homes, where they exercised a protective influence upon the dead, upon the community or upon the family. They were tutelary symbols'. [1] 

The statue also performs a number of roles within the western esoteric traditions of hermeticism and alchemy. In the Corpus Hermeticum, a mixture of  Egyptian, Greek and Gnostic wisdom texts originating from the early Christian era, a dialogue between the mythic sage Hermes Trismegistus and Asclepius occurs. Trismegistus celebrates humankind’s ability for learning the art of “god-making” – making statues come alive by drawing divine powers into them, stating-

TRISMEGISTUS : But the figures of gods that humans form have been shaped from both natures - from the divine, which is purer and more divine by far, and from the material of which they are built, whose nature falls short of the human - and they represent not only the heads but all the limbs and the whole body. Always mindful of its nature and origin, humanity persists in imitating divinity, representing its gods in semblance of its own features, just as the father and master made his gods eternal to resemble him.

ASCLEPIUS : Are you talking about statues, Trismegistus?

TRISMEGISTUS : Statues, Asclepius, yes. See how little trust you have! 
I mean statues ensouled and conscious, filled with spirit and doing great deeds; statues that foreknow the future and predict it by lots, by prophecy, by dreams and by many other means; statues that make people ill and cure them, bringing them pain and pleasure as each deserves’. [2]

After being damaged in an earthquake in 27 BCE  the eastern colossus of Memnon, one of two statues of the ruler Amenhotep III (14th century BCE) was believed to emit sound. Many travelers throughout antiquity travelled to Egypt to visit Amenhotep’s statue in the hope of hearing it, including Roman Emperors. The Greek historian Strabo, the travelogue author Pausanias and the Roman satirist Juvenal, all claimed to have heard Amenhotep’s statue. Pausanias compared its sound to 'the string of a lyre breaking’, Strabo reported it sounding, 'like a blow', but its sound was also likened to the striking of brass or whistling.

The seminal Swiss psychologist C.G. Jung in his Mysterium coniunctionis (1956) observed - ‘the statue plays a mysterious role in ancient alchemy’[3]. 

Jung noted that the medieval cleric Thomas Norton (1433-1513) in his Ordinall of Alchemy depicts the seven metals/planets as statues. In the anthology of alchemical texts Aurora Consurgens (1566) Mother Alchemy or mater alchemia is portrayed as a statue of different metals, as are the seven statues in the writings of Raymond Lully. In the German Rosicrucian Michael Maier’s Symbola aureae mensae (1617) the protagonist on his peregrinations through the continents encounters a statue of a golden-headed Mercurius who points in the direction of Paradise.

Commenting upon the biblical verse, ‘And this stone, which I have set for a pillar, shall be God’s house’. (Genesis 28: 22) C.G. Jung theorized - ‘If our conjecture is correct, the statue could therefore be the Cabbalistic equivalent of the lapis philosophorum.’ [4] In agreement with the Gnostic’s teaching that the biblical Adam was a  'corporeal or 'lifeless' statue, Jung concluded his survey of the statue’s role in alchemy stating- 

'The statue stands for the inert materiality of Adam, who still needs an animating soul; it is thus a symbol for one of the main preoccupations of alchemy'. [5]

Statues, as C.G. Jung detected, are often encountered in alchemical themed artwork and literature, frequently within the setting of a rose garden, sometimes speaking or guiding the questing adept, or even emitting an ethereal light from their eyes. The alchemical operations of thawing and warming in order to bestow life upon the inert, readily lent itself to the notion of statues coming alive. The alchemical author J. D. Mylius (c.1583-1642) in his Philosophia Reformata (1622) stated –'It is a great mystery to create souls, and to mould the lifeless body into a living statue.’

  
In the first of the illustrated series of Philosophia Reformata (above), a group of alchemists drink from statues which spout wine. When intoxicated with vinum nostrum (our wine) they walk into the dark corners of a mountain in order to begin the task of mining the prima materia from the rock, intending to refine its impure metals into gold.

There are other instances of statues becoming animated. and of  their relationship to the esoteric in the arts. In Shakespeare’s late drama The Winter's Tale  a statue by ‘that rare Italian master, Julio Romano’ of Queen Hermione comes to life. In reality however, the Queen only imitates a statue in pose before coming to life. [5] 

The statue’s ability to transcendently communicate the invisible is alluded in Sir Thomas Browne’s discourse The Garden of Cyrus (1658) in the numerological observation-

‘in their groves of the Sun this was a fit number, by multiplication to denote the days of the year; and might Hieroglyphically speak as much, as the mystical Statua of Janus in the Language of his fingers’.

But perhaps one of the most dramatic of all tales of statues coming to life occurs in Mozart's opera Don Giovanni (K527). Mozart’s anti-hero, hastily returning home  at night after an amorous escape through a graveyard, encounters a statue. He dismissively invites it to dinner. In one of the most intense and psychologically loaded acts of the entire operatic repertoire, the statue of the Commendatore calls upon the Don, knocking loud at his door. Failing to persuade him to repent from his dissolute lifestyle, the Stone Guest requests the Don shake hands with him. Locking his hand in an icy, unbreakable grip, the Stone Guest drags the unrepentant Don Giovanni down into the infernal regions.

The many and varied roles the statue plays in the esoteric arts suggests that the four statuettes of Christopher Layer’s funerary monument in the church of Saint John the Baptist at Maddermarket, Norwich, with their thinly-veiled planetary and elemental symbolism, are superb examples of the statue’s role in spiritual alchemy; for, to repeat, the reviving of the inert and inanimate soul of man is fundamental to the alchemist’s quest to animate the spiritual man within. 

If conjecture has any substance, the guiding psychopomp of alchemy and the conductor of souls (frequently depicted standing upon a rotundum to denote his world-wide influence in alchemical iconography) Mercurius, is alluded on the Layer monument in the form of Vanitas a playful, bubble-blowing child standing upon a rotundum. [7]




Notes

[1] Penguin Dictionary of Symbols ed Jean Chevalier
[2] Hermetica: The Greek Corpus Hermeticum and the Latin Asclepius
Brian P. Copenver 1995 Cambridge University Press
[3] CW 14 :  The Statue,  paragraphs  559 -569
[4]  Ibid.
[5]  Ibid.
[6]  The Winter’s Tale Act 5 scene 2
[7] Examples include- Figurarum Aegyptorum secretarum (Ms. 18th c) and Canari Le imagini de I dei  (1581) in C. G. Jung CW vol. 12 illustrations 164 and 165

Thursday, November 11, 2010

Haydn Symphonies


Throughout this year I've been listening to Joseph Haydn's complete cycle of 104 symphonies recorded  on 33 CD’s in total. In doing so I've gained a new insight into his important contribution to the development of the symphony and acquired a much better understanding of Haydn's genius. 

But first no discussion upon Haydn's symphonies can be made without mention of the recently deceased musicologist, the American-born H. C. Robbins Landon (March 6, 1926 – November 20, 2009). Robbins Landon dedicated his life to the study and appreciation of Haydn's music and was quite simply the most authoritative writer on Haydn in the 20th century.  My following small essay is very much in the shadow of his scholarship.

In many ways Joseph Haydn was the original working-class hero of the classical music world. Born in 1732 the son of a wheelwright, he reached the heights of European fame through sheer industriousness.  When he began writing symphonies, the genre was little more than a simple, pleasant diversion, a celebration of the sheer joy of having any leisure-time whatsoever to listen to music. However, by the end of an approximately thirty-five year period of composition from roughly 1760-95 Haydn almost single-handedly, made the symphony into a musical genre which appealed to listeners of all levels of society and was capable of serious philosophical and political expression.

Haydn's good fortune was to be commissioned in 1766 as composer in residence to Prince Esterhazy at his new palace at Eisenstadt located in the Hungarian marshes. Being relatively isolated from the influence of major compositional trends, life at the Esterhazy palace gave Haydn the liberty to develop his own ideas. The Prince's demand to hear new musical works also meant that Haydn was obliged to be extremely inventive with the orchestral resources available to him.

The musical influences upon Haydn are numerous and varied. These include the folk music of eastern European nations, in particular Croatian folk music with its steady beat and witty melody, gypsy music and Viennese street music.  Although he was geographically isolated from major musical trends and fashions there was however one composer who Haydn studied closely and with great interest, Carl Philip Emmanuel Bach (1714-88) the eldest son of the great Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750).

Carl Phillip Emanuel Bach's influence upon Haydn cannot be over-estimated. Although Johann Sebastian Bach had several sons who composed music, the music of his eldest son C.P.E. Bach is generally considered to be the most original and influential. In complete contrast to his father's music of sacred and civic utility, baroque ornateness, well-ordered harmony and cosmic, contrapuntal dance, the music  of C.P.E. Bach is often moody and changeable,  impassioned and introverted. With its jagged, lop-sided themes, abrupt silences obliging the listener to attentiveness, C.P.E. Bach's music is a fine example of the German movement of Sturm and Drang (Storm and Stress) with its emphasis upon  Empfindsamkeit (Sensitivity); its  range includes music even of a negative emotional nature such as anger encompassed within individual sensibility. No more so than in his short three movement symphonies which  explode  with tense dynamic phrases, syncopated  rhythms, sudden silences and  abrupt tempo changes into tranquil and calm slow movements.   The  E minor symphony of C.P.E. Bach  (WQ178) is often credited as an early Sturm und Drang symphony. From its very opening bars the listener is thrown into a world where nothing is predictable or certain and in which sudden and startling  phrases erupt from no-where. Its  opening movement  is set at a frantic tempo which persists throughout its five minute duration. In sharp contrast its adagio is one of utter calm before a final resolving short movement. If Haydn is credited as  'the father of the symphony', C.P.E. Bach is in many ways the grandfather of the symphony.

Haydn’s early symphonies are simple, three movement divertimenti before eventually opting  to include the popular dance movement  all the rage throughout Europe, the minuet. Among those still regularly performed are those influenced by the so-called Sturm und Drang movement. They are characterized by the use of minor keys and expressions of angst and passion. Indeed one of Haydn's symphonies during this time is entitled La Passione.  Haydn's Sturm and Drang symphonies although containing future elements of his symphonic development are  in many ways utterly uncharacteristic of the path in which he was follow in composing symphonies,  it is however worthwhile looking at what the artistic movement of Sturm and Drang was exactly.

Sturm and Drang   was an artistic movement  in which individual subjectivity and extremes of emotion were given free expression Much of this new found artistic sensibility was  a kind of 'rage against the Machine' and a reaction by artists against the constraints of the dominant philosophy of the era, namely  rationalism, imposed upon the Arts by the Enlightenment movement and  as a protest for the emotions of the individual  to be recognised.  In many ways it is the precursor to the much more important artistic movement of early Romanticism. In England this new irrational and dark artistic movement  is characterized  by Horace Walpole's novel 'The Castle of Otranto' (1764) which is  often considered the first ever Gothic novel.

The German literary work of this period which reflects 'Empfindsamkeit' or sensitivity best  is Goethe's 1773 novella, 'The sorrows of young Werther' a work  of  teenage angst, doomed love and suicide. It's been proposed that Goethe's romantic novella influenced the 17 year-old Mozart when writing his own impassioned 'Sturm and Drang' symphony, the so-called 'little' G minor symphony of 1773, K183. Mozart's teenager temper-tantrum symphony stands quite apart from his other symphonic compositions, it was not until 1788 that he employed the use of a minor key in a symphony, using the key of G minor once more in his much better-known symphony K550. Its rewarding to compare Mozart’s early G minor symphony of 1771 whose opening  bars became better-known through their use in the curtain-raising sequence of Milos Foreman's 1984 film 'Amadeus'  to Haydn's own G minor symphony no.39 of 1768.

The use of minor keys in the concert-hall  in the first half of the 18th century was considered   socially unacceptable for the 'negative' emotions which they express,  however, a prime artistic concern of the Sturm and Drang movement was to rouse the audience, to even startle or shock, keeping the listener in a state of anticipation and attentiveness.

 Significantly Haydn is noted as the composer whose works contain more silence than any other composer. The use of silence often has a deep physiological and psychological effect upon the listener.  Haydn uses the dramatic effect of silence in his symphonies in a number of different ways, primarily to stimulate alertness and anticipation but more often for comic effect. Haydn's symphonies demonstrate him to be the master of silence in music. In  his symphony no. 39  however silence creates an eerie, spooky effect, unsettling to the listener.

Joseph Haydn was famed for his sense of humour  fittingly for someone born on April 1st (All Fool’s day). A sense of humour pervades his symphonic compositions. In fact, he is the only composer who has ever made me laugh out loud. In his 'Farewell' symphony  the members of the orchestra leave the stage two-by-two, a hint to the Prince that even musicians need a holiday. In the  ‘Surprise’ symphony  a loud chord crashes suddenly out of nowhere to wake the audience up, and throughout his symphonies there are trick and false endings in which the music suddenly stops and starts again , soft-loud phrases, sudden accelerations, out-of-step soloists and compostional  devices guaranteed to grab the attention of the inattentive concert-goer. In symphony no. 60 entitled Il distratto (The Distracted One) Haydn’s famous sense of humour is shown to full effect. Not only does the symphony include an unprecedented 6 movements but it momentarily plunges into quoting an earlier Haydn symphony before remembering itself while its final movement instructs the first violinists to re-tune in its opening bars.

 By the time  of  the adagio of symphony number 76 in E flat some quite modern features occur, anticipating the symphonies of his most famous pupil, Ludwig van Beethoven and paving the way for Romantic composers such as Schubert and Schumann.  In the Adagio of symphony 76 the listener is lulled into a cosy  mood of  intimacy only to be awakened by a truly startling, war-like, strutting second theme bursting onto the scene, which in turn slowly  fades back to the original mood of calm cosiness.

Just as no two games of Chess are ever completely identical no  two Haydn symphonies are really the same. Although their exposition, development and resolution often conform to a strict formula, in effect the miracle of Haydn's symphonies is their sheer inventiveness.  Written over a thirty year period  Haydn’s symphonies demonstrate the plastic and  protean nature  of the four movement symphonic structure.  The sheer variety and inventiveness in which he bends and shapes his material along with his original orchestration and overall effect, hopping from one musical key to another to explore the full potential of tonality, shuffling varied combinations of instruments and ensembles, using trick devices  such as silence to keep the listener alert and in anticipation,  Haydn's symphonies grow  in size, stature, volume and power throughout the decades of the 1770's and 1780's to the culminate in the magnificent last 12  symphonies  first performed in London in the 1790's. 

Like the German-born composer Handel before him, Haydn recognised that in the absence of any serious composer of their own,  the English were willing to commission and pay good money to hear fine musical compositions. Many of Haydn's symphonies have nick-names and the 12  London symphonies are no exception. Included amongst them are the 'Oxford', the 'Surprise' ,'The Drum-roll' ,the Military and the 'London.' A contemporary review from The Times dated 17th February 1792 stated of Haydn's music-

‘Novelty of idea, agreeable caprice, and whim combined with all Haydn’s sublime and wonton  grandeur, gave additional consequence to the soul and feelings of every individual present.

And indeed an appreciative and perceptive review of Haydn’s ‘Military’ symphony No.100 which is well worth reading  from the Proms season of 2009 can be found here.
 
Haydn is credited as the father of the symphony  for his development of its form, demonstrating the infinite variety of expression available within its four movement form. Alongside this development he also explored the dimensions of tonality and the various effects which could be achieved using   varied combinations of instruments, in effect, the development of orchestration.

 Often beginning the symphony with an brisk-paced, witty and inventive movement, though  in  later symphonies  opening  with a short, brooding adagio, Haydn's symphonies  progress with a second movement, usually in a contrasting  key and mood in the form of  an intimate, deeply expressive, leisurely adagio. The third movement   invariably is  a minuet, a light-hearted, toe-tapping   invitation to the dance.  Haydn's symphonies often conclude with  an exciting last movement of orchestral brilliance and technical wizardry, thematically related to the opening movement.

Like his greatest pupil Beethoven, Haydn's symphonies are not famed  for having memorable and lyrical  melodies as much as exhibiting dazzling  organising  and inventive skills in their arranging and developing of  musical material. Haydn recognised the potential within each of the four  individual movements of the symphony's structure to express different aspects and characteristics of the composer's sensibility which he fully developed and exploited. Indeed, Mozart is quoted as once saying  of Haydn that there was no one else, 'who can do it all - to joke and to terrify, to evoke laughter and profound sentiment - and all equally well'.

 In the Russian composer Rimsky-Korsakov’s view  Haydn was the greatest of all orchestrators . His influence can be discerned notably in his most famous pupil Beethoven's smaller  scale symphonies numbers 4 and 8 and homage is made to him  by 20th century composers, notably in the back to basics, scaled down in size and scope of Prokofiev's  first symphony (1917) in D major, the so-called 'Classical' symphony and even in Shostakovich's 9th symphony (1953) in its mood  of light-hearted jollity and humour.

In many ways listening to a Haydn symphony is like being  cordially invited by a master horologist to inspect the inside workings of a clock. All the pieces matter! Those who complain that his symphonies sound all the same simply are not listening. To be sure original melodies may be far and few, but  if today Haydn is seen as a little four square, with his level-headed calmness, sobriety and jovial good humour, its an indication of just  how far removed from a sane, at ease and harmony with the world,  the modern listener has become. 

Here's a useful list of the dates of the most famous of  Haydn's symphonies for reference. They are all great to listen to,  but especially those with a nickname. I've also added the dates of the most important Mozart symphonies in bold type for comparative reference. 

No.22 The Philosopher (1764); no. 26 in D minor, Lamentations,  nos.27-29 (1765);  
no. 30 in C ,Alleluja,  no. 31 in D Hornsignal ,  nos. 32-42 (c.1768) includes no. 39 in G minor,
 
Mozart Symphony no. 25 in G minor K183 (1773)
 
 no.43 in E flat Mercury (1772);  no. 44 in E minor, Trauersinfonie (1772);  no. 45 in F sharp minor Farewell  (1772) 

no.49 in F minor,La Passione (c.1768) no.52-52 (1773);  nos. 54-59 (1774);  no.60 Il Distratto (1774);
 nos. 61-72 (c.1779);  no.73 La Chasse (1782); 

Mozart 'Linz' Symphony no. 36 in C major (1783)

nos.74-81  (1781-84); 

Paris Symphonies nos 82 -87 -  no.82 in C, The Bear, no.83 in G minor, The Hen, no.84 in E flat, no.85 in B Flat, La Reine, no.86 in D, no.87 in A (1785-86): no.88 in G, no. 89 in F, no.90 in C, no 91 in E flat (1787-88);

 W.A Mozart - Symphonies 39-41 K549-551 (1788)  

London Symphonies  (1791-95)
no.92 in G The Oxford (1789); nos. 93-104  
no.94 in G  The Surprise,
no.95 in C minor,
no.96 in D  The Miracle, no 97 in C, no. 98 in B flat, no.99 in E flat,
no.100 in G The Military, no.101 in D The Clock, no.102 in B flat,
no.103 in E flat The Drumroll, no.104 in D The London.

Monday, November 01, 2010

Defeating the mischief intended by the Elephants



            
And therefore it was remarkably singular in the battle of Africa, that Scipio fearing a rout from the Elephants of the Enemy, left not the Principes in their alternate distances, whereby the Elephants passing the vacuities of the Hastati, might have run upon them, but drew his battle into right  order, and leaving the passages bare, defeated the mischief intended by the Elephants.

The event which Browne alludes to in chapter two of his Discourse  'The Garden of Cyrus'  is the Battle of Zama  in North Africa, modern-day Tunisia, which was fought in 202 BCE between the Roman army led by Scipio Africanus and the Carthaginian forces of Hannibal. The battle ended in the decimation of Hannibal's army and Carthage losing the Second Punic War, effectively establishing Rome's total control of the Mediterranean sea.

Scipio's fame in esoteric literature is due  to  the sixth book of Cicero's De Republica  describing Scipio's journey through the planetary spheres and  his hearing the celestial music of the spheres. The  Neoplatonic philosopher Macrobius (395 - 425 CE) wrote a commentary upon Scipio's dream which became well-known in the Middle ages. The 15 year old Mozart composed a one act opera named Il sogno di Scipio K. 126 using a libretto by Metastastio which was based upon the Roman text.

Browne's figure of speech 'defeated the mischief intended by the Elephants',  in particular, linking 'mischief'  with  'Elephants' seems  a fine example of his subtle  humour. 

Painting by Guilo Romano (1492-1546)  The Battle of Zama

Monday, April 26, 2010

Everything is Connected

Daniel Barenboim (born 1942 )
Just finished reading Daniel Barenboim's 'Everything is connected', (Phoenix paperback 2009) a collection of essays about music. 

I've long rated Barenboim's performances of Mozart's piano concertos as the most enjoyable and perceptive interpretation of all available recordings, though dating from the late 1960's and 70's, his recordings remain quite simply the creme de la creme. His much later recording of the Bach Preludes and Fugues known as 'The Well-tempered Klavier' is also superb, from the opening bars of the well-known Prelude in C major, at quite a fast tempo; apparently its his usage of the sustain pedal on the piano, a feature which was not available in Bach's day which makes his interpretation of the Well-tempered Klavier refined in phrasing, unlike Glenn Gould's equally revolutionary recordings of Bach on piano.

In any event, upon listening to Barenboim perform one immediately recognizes a musician of infinite sensitivity and profound perception, as well as being technically brilliant, skills acquired from a life-time's professional involvement in music as both a pianist and conductor. And perhaps its in the less common role of pianist/conductor which makes Barenboim's recordings of the Mozart piano concertos particularly fine. Just as Mozart presumably would have performed himself.

I could never articulate anything quite like the wonderful things that Barenboim (born 1942) has stated about music, except perhaps for occasional phrases such as, 'the so-called 'little g minor' symphony by Mozart (K183) is his teenage temper tantrum symphony'. I like his observations upon the laughing, golden boy of Classical music. Here's a few quotations which strike me as worth sharing.

Barenboim On Music

'What is, ultimately, perhaps the most difficult lesson for a human being - learning to live with discipline yet with passion, with freedom yet with order - is evident in any single phrase of music'.

'The availability of recordings and films of concerts and operas stands in inverse proportion to the poorness of musical knowledge and understanding prevalent in our society. The current state of public education is responsible for a population that is able to listen to almost any piece of music at will, but unable to concentrate on it fully'.

'The power of music lies in its ability to speak to all aspects of the human being - the animal, the emotional, the intellectual, and the spiritual. How often we think that personal, social and political issues are independent, without influencing each other. From music we learn that this is an objective impossibility; there simply are no independent elements. Logical thought and intuitive emotions must be permanently united. Music teaches us, in short, that everything is connected'.

'Music and religion share a common preoccupation with the relationship between human beings, and between man and the universe. Involvement with music requires a permanent search for a whole in spite of the infinite diversity in any particular work; in religion this has its parallel in the individual's striving for oneness with the Creator. Religion, though, is primarily concerned with man's relationship to the universe, whereas Western classical music is more interested in exploring the depth of the individual's existence and , as such, is termed secular. Both music and religion, though, grapple in essence with the paradox of the finite being's attempt to become infinite. the composer with the greatest ability to transcend this paradox was Bach, whose works, sacred as well as secular, are suffused with both piety and a deep respect for the individual'.

Barenboim On Bach

'Why did Bulow describe Das wohltemperierte Klavier as the Old Testament? What is the Old Testament? On the one hand it is the narrative of a people and its experiences. On the other it is a compilation of thoughts about life on this earth, love, ethics, morals and human qualities. Thoughts on the experience of the past provide a statement about the present and also a lesson for the future, showing thoughtful people where and how they can find their own way. That is what the Old Testament means to me, as does every masterpiece, including Das wohltemperierte Klavier . It makes a statement about everything that preceded it in music. It makes a statement about music in the time of Bach. But it also indicates the direction music might take as it develops - as indeed it has developed.....In other words Das wohltemperierte Klavier is not only the sum of everything that has preceded it, but also points the way ahead. In the history of European music there are very few composers to whose works that applies. This is one of the reasons for the towering stature of Bach's music'.

Barenboim On Mozart

'Mozart says, that nothing in life is inherently moral, immoral, amoral, unless the human being makes something moral, immoral, or amoral out of it'.

'Mozart was the first pan-European. He spoke many languages, German, Italian and French'.

'Mozart says greatness, sensuality, what else? Mozart points at us, at you and me. And has a much deeper, much broader, understanding of human nature than we can come up with today. That's what makes him so strange to us'.

'Beethoven strives towards heaven, Mozart is from heaven'.

'If there's something we can learn from Mozart today, then its not to take everything so horribly seriously'.

'Mozart just shows that feelings are fragile. I love you - but I love you as well'.

Wednesday, April 07, 2010

Black and White

A scene from Jiří Kylián DVD 'Black and White'

I thought I was onto something with the idea that the music of Mozart embodied the 'spirit of the dance', but a quick rummage through the old DVD library reveals that choreographers have long ago hit upon the same idea that the music of Mozart is eminently danceable. Never underestimate the power of cryptoamnesia!

While the music of J.S.Bach may be satisfyingly geometric and full of deep emotion upon the dignity of man and his relationship with God, it is in Mozart's music, a man who himself enjoyed dancing that 'the spirit of the dance' comes alive best. I wish I still possessed a videotape copy of Maurice Bejart's Tangomozart in which the music of Mozart alternates with Argentinian Tango's, but I do still have, albeit a bit blurry, a recording of Bejart's choreographing the music of Mahler and Ravel with great effect.

Far more rewarding however is the choreography of the Czech Jiří Kylián, ballet-master of the Netherlands Dance Theater. Using music from a set of German dances K571 by Mozart and for Petit Mort, slow movements from two of his piano concerto's namely number 21 in C major K467 and number 23 in A major K488, Jiří demonstrates the potential of Mozart's music in terms of choreographic expression. The German dances in particular are hilarious as Kylián picks up on Mozart's own dramatic sensibility in his music to illustrate the differences and misunderstandings between the sexes; here's what the sleeve notes state-

The piece of music by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart's Six German Dances, K 571, (14:00) like all the others , is new and witty. Many of the eight dancers' actions are coarse and speedy, full of threats, unrest and absurdity. the men wear powdered periwigs above their naked torsi; the ladies are clothed in drastic skirts. And in the illumination of the spotlights, scintillating soap bubbles fall from the rigging loft in cascades down upon the dancers. The equally witty and bizarre scene is a winking paen to the Baroque and Rococo ages and their decades of infatuation with splendour and pomp, ending in clouds of wig powder and soap bubbles. Images full of humour and comedy prove once more what an imaginative, charismatic power Jiří Kylián possesses. The delicious humour of the piece moved numerous viewers and reviewers to remark that the Salzburg composer would have enjoyed it. Even if Six Dances appears to be no more than a sparkling witty assembly of nonsense carried out in costumes designed by the choreographer himself, who calls them "Mozartian underwear", there is still a dark, ominous undertone.

The sleeve-notes of the 1996 DVD say it so much better than I ever could-

For the piece Petit Mort, (18:00) Jiří Kylián chose the slowest movements from two of Mozart's most beautiful and best-loved piano concerto's. Although suffused with some humour, the ballet is driven forward with a kind of aesthetic brutality. Aggression, sexual tension, energy, but equally stillness and vulnerability plat the determining roles here. along with the six male dancers and six female dancers, six rapiers are also equal "partners" in the game, as are already the familiar Rococo costumes, which are moved across the stage on tailor's dummies. ..In this "little death" , the six men provide an astonishing performance of sword-play, but not like in the usual kind of cloak-and-dagger film. the blows and parries proceed almost as if in a kind of military discipline. Only after the ladies join them do the couples celebrate Mozart's sensual music. (Above photo)


Tuesday, April 06, 2010

The Marriage of Figaro

Last night I watched 'The Marriage of Figaro' on DVD. More lingua Italia, thank heavens for sub-titles! The whole art of Opera has been made much more accessible and comprehendable through DVD sub-titles. Nowadays super-text is also projected overhead at theatrical productions. At 140 minutes another marathon viewing session.

Mozart's opera Le Nozze di Figaro (K 492 ) concerns itself with sexuality in relation to social standing. There's some strong social comment going on here, as well as some heavenly harmonies and melodies. The production I watched was from 1993, with the Welsh singer Bryn Terfel in the role of Figaro and John Elliot Gardiner conducting the English baroque soloists . Imagine my surprise when near the denouement or unraveling of 2 hours of intrigue, deception, true love tested and attempted seduction, Figaro sings the following lines-

Fair Venus has gone in,
Her lover Mars will follow in,
Like a modern Vulcan,
I will catch them in my net.

It looks as if the Greek myth of Venus and Mars entangled by Vulcan's net was still in common stock in the eighteenth century, though credit where credit's due, it would have been the dramatist and librettist Beaumarchais who was familiar with the Greek myth, not Mozart. Beaumarchais wrote his scandalous play in 1784, the Mozart adaptation followed swiftly, its premiere was on May 1, 1786 . It was a great triumph for the composer, an instant hit and a box-office sell-out in Vienna. Cherubino's aria and maybe more from The Marriage of Figaro can be found on my Modern Dance and Ballet Videos page.

Saturday, April 03, 2010

Mozart in Paris


When the 22 year-old Mozart arrived in Paris in March 1778 he had high hopes of making a name for himself. However he discovered Parisian society to be fickle, inconsiderate and exploitative; Spring-time in Paris was not a happy affair for the young Mozart. He found himself disrespected, treated indifferently and worse of all, his honour and pride as a musician wounded. He described such treatment in a letter to his father-

A week went by without any news whatsoever. However, she had told me to call after the lapse of a week so I kept my word and presented myself to her. On my arrival I was made to wait half an hour in a great ice-cold unwarmed room, unprovided with any fire-place. At length the Duchess de Charbot came in, greeted me withe greatest civility, begged me to make the best of the clavier since it was the only one in order, and asked me to try it. "I am very willing to play" , said I, "but momentarily my hands are numb with cold," and begged she would at least conduct me to a room with a fire. "Oh , oui monsieur, vous avez raison, " was all the answer I received, and thereupon she sat down and began to sketch, continuing for a whole hour in company with a party of gentlemen who sat in a circle round a big table. The windows and the doors stood open, and not only my hands, but my whole body and my feet were chilled. My head began to ache...I did not know what to do for cold, headache and tedium. I kept on thinking, "If it were not for Monsieur Grimm I would leave this instant". At last to be brief I played the wretched, miserable pianoforte. Most vexing of all, however, Madame and her gentlemen never ceased their sketching for a moment, but remained intent upon it , so that I had to play to the chairs, tables and walls.Under these vile conditions I began to lose patience.....

In the same letter to his father, Wolfgang describes the difficulties of establishing himself socially in Paris and his problems living in the City-

You write that I ought to be assiduous in paying visits to form new acquaintances and revive the old ones. But this is not possible. The distances are too great for walking - or else the roads too dirty, for the filth of Paris is indescribable. As to driving - one has the honour of expending four to five livres a day - and all in vain; people return your compliments and there's an end. ...At first I wasted money enough in this way - and often entirely in vain, for i found the people from home. If one were not here one could not believe how hopeless it is ! Altogether Paris is greatly changed. The French are not as polite as fifteen years ago. Their manners border on coarseness and they are terribly discourteous. Letter dated May 1 1778

Ever hopeful, a month later he breaks some potentially good news to his father-

I am not merely to write an act for an o
pera, but an entire one in 2 acts. The poet has completed the first act. Noverre with whom I dine as often as I please, managed this, and indeed, suggested the 'idea' April 5 1778

Hope of collaboration with Noverre in a large-scale theatrical production was still in the air another month later, as he informed his father-

I shall soon, I believe, get the libretto for my opera en deux acts and shall first of all have to show it to the director Monsieur de Huime, for his approval. there is not a doubt of that, however, for it comes from Noverre and De Huime has Noverre to thank for his new post. Noverre is about to design a new ballet and i am to compose music for it. Letter dated 14 th May 1778

The ballet-master Jean-George Noverre (1727-1810) had already written his major treatise upon dance in 1760. In it he argues that consideration for movement of the dancer is essential. Any costume which restricted the movement of the dancer was discouraged, the ballet d'action was first and foremost to be centred upon displaying the skills of the dancer ; furthermore the story-line was to engage in simple, clear, unambiguous emotions, assisted by appropriate music which empathized with setting, dance and action. Noverre's treatise effectively paved the way for the birth and development of modern ballet as we know it today.

When Noverre met the young Mozart in Paris he was nearly thirty years the young composer's senior and wise to the fickleness of the Parisian audience. Its not improbable that while dining with the young Mozart the well-traveled Chevalier may have recollected his travels, including his years resident in England, 1754-56 when resident at London and Norwich. Noverre may well have witnessed the completion of the latest building by Thomas Ivory, architect of his Norwich home, now the Assembly Rooms and one-time Noverre cinema. Ivory's architectural masterpiece was however, the Octagonal chapel at Colegate, Norwich-over-the-water which was completed in the year of Mozart's birth, 1756. Its Neo-classical facade and geometrical architecture would not be incongruous as the back-drop to a Mozart opera; its Octagonal shape and imposing entrance a fitting setting for the Masonic rituals of Mozart's opera, The Magic Flute.










It's still very much the same tune from Wolfgang in a letter to his father 3 months later-

'Noverre, too is soon to arrange a new ballet, for which I am to write the music. July 3rd 1778

The resultant fruits of Mozart's collaboration with Noverre was a Suite of Ballet-music entitled Les Petit Riens K299b. It was performed just six times without mention of the composer's name in either billing or programme. The Symphony in D major K.297 now known as the "Paris" symphony was a greater compositional achievement and concert-hall success. Written in the festive and civic social key of D major in an easy-pleasing style and scored with the added luxury of 2 clarinets, a pungent air of the flamboyant, the vigorous and athletic pervades its mood. The Wood-wind scoring in particular of a rich harmony due to the addition of a pair of clarinets, the first time Mozart had written for the relatively new instrument. After a successful performance Mozart celebrated with a walk in the park and a Sherbet after having said his rosary.

But it was also during his Paris visit that personal tragedy was to strike the young composer . On the night of the 2nd/3rd July 1778, after a short illness, his mother died.

From this bereavement came the composition marking the emotional rite-de-passage, his Sonata for Violin and pianoforte K 304; the only time Mozart wrote in the key of E minor. There's a real traumatized, heart-wrenching grief of the recently-bereaved expressed in the sobbing opening bars of this sonata; its second movement is calmer, more like grief in reflection upon the memory of his departed mother. Paris had produced fruits in composition, but not how Mozart had imagined in the form of opera. Half a year since his arrival in Paris , Mozart had the measure of how his talent was vulnerable to time-wasting exertion without economic reward, writing to his father-

I ought to write an opera now (having said that I am going away), but I said to Noverre, "If you will guarantee me its production as soon as it is finished and will tell me exactly what you will pay me for it, i will stay another three months and write it". they did not agree to these terms , however, and I knew before-hand that they would not and could not, since they are not according to usage here. Here, as perhaps you know, an opera is examined on its completion, and if the "stupid Frenchmen " do not approve of it, it is not given and the composer has written in vain.. Letter dated 11th September 1778

When Mozart left Paris he must surely have shook the dust from his feet and muttered 'Never again' under his breath; indeed he never returned to Paris. The six month sojourn had produced relatively few compositions, the manuscript of Le Petit Riens was lost, only to be 'rediscovered' in 1873; the Paris symphony marks one more rung climbed in symphonic development for the composer. There were also 4 flute concerto's and an insipid-sounding Flute and Harp Concerto in C major K 299 , composed during his stay, both were instruments Mozart cared little for.

The young composer returned to the service of Archbishop Colleredo in Salzburg. A position of servitude he endured for 3 more years, before a final break. He still however had one last laugh at his would-be Parisian sponsors. His prodigious musical genius shines through in his letter declaration en route to Salzburg to his father-

The result is that I am bringing no finished work with me save my sonatas - for Le Gros bought the two overtures and the symphony concertante . He thinks he has them all to himself, but it is not so - they are still fresh in my head and as soon as I am home I shall write them out again! -Oct 3 1778

There were greater compositions, greater concert-hall and theatrical triumphs awaiting the young composer in Vienna and Prague, but not in Paris.