[FLAC, CUE, LOG, COVERS]

Bela Bartok play the piano! rec: 1920-45

info: http://www.cduniverse.com/search/xx/music/pid/1115166/a/Bartok+At+The+Piano.htm

LINKS

http://uploading.com/files/bf1429a8/BartokAtThePiano6CDs.part01.rar/

http://uploading.com/files/faeebf67/BartokAtThePiano6CDs.part02.rar/

http://uploading.com/files/52ammf9e/BartokAtThePiano6CDs.part03.rar/

http://uploading.com/files/43cb3cb3/BartokAtThePiano6CDs.part04.rar/

http://uploading.com/files/bc72b7ae/BartokAtThePiano6CDs.part05.rar/

http://uploading.com/files/34e4d19d/BartokAtThePiano6CDs.part06.rar/

http://uploading.com/files/232d9768/BartokAtThePiano6CDs.part07.rar/

http://uploading.com/files/amf435ef/BartokAtThePiano6CDs.part08.rar/

http://uploading.com/files/81fbmb52/BartokAtThePiano6CDs.part09.rar/

http://uploading.com/files/da4fa572/BartokAtThePiano6CDs.part10.rar/

http://uploading.com/files/322e8fa1/BartokAtThePiano6CDs.part11.rar/

http://uploading.com/files/c888c5d9/BartokAtThePiano6CDs.part12.rar/

http://uploading.com/files/976edfa2/BartokAtThePiano6CDs.part13.rar/

http://uploading.com/files/a6b3d3me/BartokAtThePiano6CDs.part14.rar/

http://uploading.com/files/c4f4fc25/BartokAtThePiano6CDs.part15.rar/

http://uploading.com/files/443926dm/BartokAtThePiano6CDs.part16.rar/

http://uploading.com/files/c163ma64/BartokAtThePianoCovers.rar/

Competition is for horses, not artists.

Bela Bartok

The words “great” and “greatest” appeared several times during my research into Nadia Boulanger (1887-1979), both on the Internet and from books that I own.

Why was I looking for references about her? Because I had come across her name yet one more time, recently, causing me to go over the tipping point, not able to resist getting to know her better.

Last week a friend had given me a book, What to Listen for in Music by the composer of quintessentially American music, Aaron Copland, and in the foreword by Alan Rich was a reminder that Copland had been a pupil of Boulanger.

Leonard Bernstein congratulating Nadia Boulanger, after she became the first woman to conduct the New York Philharmonic Orchestra in a full concert, February, 1962. [Secondary Source]

Most simply put, she can be considered “the greatest” because she was teacher to so many renown composers and performing artists, some of whom were great teachers in their own right—Aaron Copland, for one.

These are some of the American students of Nadia Boulanger:

Although Leonard Bernstein’s name is linked for many reasons with that of Nadia Boulanger, he apparently was not a pupil of hers. But, he was a pupil of a pupil of hers: Walter Piston.

Boulanger, in 1928, rejected as a student one of America’s most important composers, George Gershwin. “What could I give you that you haven’t already got?” she asked him. [Source]

I most recently saw Boulanger’s name while reading Sylvia Beach and the Lost Generation, by Noël Riley Fitch. Beach was the owner of the famed “Shakespeare & Company” bookshop in Paris to which Ernest Hemingway, James Joyce, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ford Maddox Ford, Ezra Pound and many other writers of the 1920s and 1930s gravitated, along with musicians and other artists. Several of these musicians and future composers were in Paris because of Nadia Boulanger, thus offering the creative and disciplined influence of these two remarkable women who apparently never met each other. In chapter seven of her book, Fitch offers these anecdotes:

Aaron Copland (1900-1900)

Most of the regular customers of the bookshop were writers, but among them were four composers: Satie, Antheil, Virgil Thomson, and Aaron Copland…Copland, who had joined the lending library [of the bookshop] had time to read [Sylvia’s] books in spite of being worked “terribly hard” by Nadia Boulanger, the great French teacher of musical composition to more than a generation of American composers…Because of Stravinsky, Ravel, Schönberg, Strauss, Satie and the music school of Nadia Boulanger, young American composers went to Europe, particularly Paris, to complete their professional education. In America, musical training was predominantly Germanic and old-fashioned, but in Paris, according to Copland, Boulanger knew “pre-Bach to Post-Stravinsky…cold.”

Although only the names of male composers have entered this narrative so far, Nadia Boulanger was teacher and mentor to a number of women in the field of music. In A History of Classical Music, on which I commented previously, the author, Barrymore Laurence Scherer writes:

Ruth Crawford Seeger (1901-1953)

During [Ruth Crawford's] European travels she was embraced by such pre-eminent musical figures such as Bartók, Honneger, and Nadia Boulanger…Among Nadia Boulanger’s American students were other women who achieved positions of distinction as composers, among them Marion Bauer (1882-1955) and Louise Talma 1906-1996). Bauer…had learned French from her parents; when introduced to Boulanger…in 1906, she offered to give Boulanger English lessons in return for lessons in composition, and thus became Boulanger’s first American student.

But, what was it like to study with Nadia Boulanger; what was so special that the most talented people sought her out? We can get a glimpse from Philip Glass.

Around a year ago I bought the book Writings on Glass: Essays, Interviews, Criticism, edited by Richard Kostelanetz. I have been fascinated with Glass’s music for almost two decades, especially since having viewed and bought the film Koyaanisqatsi, for which he wrote the musical score. The film has no spoken dialog. “In the Hopi language, the word Koyaanisqatsi means ‘crazy life, life in turmoil, life out of balance, life disintegrating, a state of life that calls for another way of living’” [Source]

In an early chapter of the book we learn that Glass went to study with Boulanger in 1963, at age 26, because a musical colleague whom he admired had studied with her. Glass had already completed his studies at the Juilliard School of Music.

(Transcribed from an interview by Ev Grimes)

Boulanger wasn’t interested in the music I had written…I started studying first species counterpoint with her again…I studied counterpoint and harmony with her for over two years…

She had a variety of techniques that she was teaching. They included score reading, counterpoint, harmony, figured bass, and analysis…With Boulanger, nothing was theoretical; it was all practical. The rules of harmony she could describe in a few sentences, but you could spend years writing it, because to her the difference between technique and theory was that technique was practice. Harmony is practice, counterpoint is practice—neither is theory…

You took three classes with her a week…[The] Black Thursday class…was a special class…[Y]ou were asked to that class; you couldn’t request it. She put together six or eight students…It would start at nine o’clock and would go till noon. The subject of the class was announced at the beginning, and we rarely accomplished it…When we left the class, we would sit in the café across the street. No one would say anything; we would have our coffee or a beer, then we would part until we got together the next week. No one would say anything [repeated]. It was totally demoralizing in one way. We all knew we were either her best students or her worst students, but none of us knew which ones we were…

One can read more of Nadia Boulanger and her teaching goals and methods from these sources:

List of students and others associated with Nadia Boulanger

[Click!]

2 Tage, 4 Konzertlesungen, 15 Kammermusiker,
11 Autoren, 8 Schauspieler, 2 Uraufführungen:

Eine Vision

Villa Elisabeth, Invalidenstr. 3, Berlin
Das Festival Zeitkunst möchte mit dem künstlerischen Dialog zwischen Kammermusik und Gegenwartsliteratur neue Wege beschreiten. Es ist das Anliegen der Initiatoren, die Qualitäten und Eigenarten beider Künste zu verbinden und diese Verbindung über die Dauer des Festivals hinaus ins öffentliche Interesse zu rücken.

Die 33 internationalen Musiker, zeitgenössischen Autoren und Schauspieler werden gemeinsam die Anknüpfungspunkte zwischen Text und Musik erkunden, herausbilden, hör- und erlebbar machen.

Die programmatische Zusammenstellung der Konzert-Lesungen folgt der Perspektive, die Interdisziplinarität zwischen den Künsten hervorzuheben. So dienen den Autoren einerseits ausgewählte Kammermusikwerke als Inspirationsmaterial, andererseits wurden zwei außergewöhnliche Komponisten gewonnen, die für das Festival ein Werk zu mehreren Texten junger Autoren komponieren.

Das direkte, sinntragende Miteinander von Literatur und Musik erhält durch das Festival Zeitkunst eine neue, visionäre Plattform.

Programm

Eröffnungs-Konzertlesung 7.11.2009, 19:00

Kammermusik: Paul Ben-Haim, Benjamin Britten, Gideon Klein, Uraufführung Samir Odeh-Tamimi

Gegenwartsliteratur: Jan Wagner, Ulrike Almut Sandig, Johannes CS Frank, Swantje Lichtenstein

Musiker: Shirley Brill, Jonathan Aner, Julian Arp, Caspar Frantz, Ensemble Zeitkunst, Sergey Malov, Manuel Hofer

Matinée, 8.11.2009, 11:00

Komponisten: Joseph Achron, Paul Hindemith, Bela Bartók, György Ligeti

Gegenwartsliteratur: Ron Winkler, Maa Brami, Andre Rudolph, Johanna Melzow, Swantje Lichtenstein, Alexander Graeff, Katharina Bendixen, Cornelia Schmerle, Katharina Hartwell

Musiker: Shirley Brill, Jonathan Aner, Ardeo Quartett, Claudio Bohorquez, Christoph Ehrenfellner, Sergey Malov

Konzertlesung am Nachmittag, 8.11.2009, 15:00

Komponisten: Robert Schumann, György Kurtag

Gegenwartsliteratur: Jan Wagner, Thien Tran, Ron Winkler, Ulrike Almut Sandig

Musiker: Matan Porat, Shirley Brill, Jonathan Aner, Guy Ben-Ziony, Sergey Malov, Manuel Hofer, Julian Arp.

Abschluss-Konzertlesung, 8.11. 2009, 19:00

Kammermusik: Arnold Schoenberg, Anton Webern, Gustav Mahler, Uraufführung Christoph Ehrenfellner

Gegenwartsliteratur: Andre Rudolf, Lilly Jäckl, Johannes CS Frank

Musiker: Caspar Frantz, Claudio Bohorquez, Matan Porat, Gergana Gergova, Guy Ben-Ziony, Julian Arp.

Hace ya más de treinta años que estuve charlando con el compositor español Luis de Pablo en su casa, en las afueras de Madrid,  y ahora, que en los próximos días va a recibir el Premio Tomás Luis de Victoria, me llegan aún los ecos de aquella grata conversación.

“Un creador – me dijo entonces Luis de Pablo – es una persona que ante todo aquello que contempla lo puede traducir fácilmente en su especialidad: sabiéndolo o sin saberlo, porque el ser humano va almacenando cosas, y un buen día, cosas por las que aparentemente has pasado sin percibir, salen; esto quiere decir que, en realidad, no hay casi experiencias desaprovechables, como no sean espantosamente negativas.

Creo que la naturaleza a mí me estimula más que la creación de otras cosas, lo cual no quiere decir que yo no disfrute con la creación de otros; por ejemplo, puedo citar concretamente obras que han venido directamente de experiencias naturales (…) Igualmente, para mí, una aportación ha sido las “pinturas negras” de Goya, y, como las conozco desde muy crío, porque están en el Prado, es fácil ir; eso es una cosa que me marcó, como me marcó mi primer descubrimiento de las primeras pinturas del periodo cubista, no solamente las de Picasso, sino las de Gris y de Braque; como una exposición itinerante de pintura americana en 1958. Tampoco olvidaré la primera vez que oí música de Bartok, cuando yo tendría 16 o 17 años; la primera audición de la escuela de Viena, o cuando me dediqué a frecuentar las músicas no europeas, como el increíble descubrimiento a los 16 años del último Falla, del “Retablo” “concreto”. Estos grandes descubrimientos son definitivos en la formación de una persona y te marcan de por vida”.

Estábamos sentados, recuerdo – era mayo de 1977 – en la casa de Luis de Pablo probando los dos, mientras charlábamos, varias clases de té. Conversábamos sobre la relación entre el tiempo y la música, la relación entre el tiempo y la vida.

“Éste es un tema muy fascinante – me dijo el compositor – porque va a depender del concepto que del tiempo se tenga, para que la música sea de una u otra manera. El tiempo en Occidente siempre intenta ser causal; al ser causal se produce un fenómeno muy curioso: estamos viviendo en un tiempo que es habitable racionalmente, puesto que lo que está sucediendo ahora es un momento conocible, por lo que se había oído antes: basta con que el material a modificar sea claro al principio; después no hay problema ninguno: estamos en terreno conocido.

A partir de cierto punto de la música de Occidente este concepto hace crisis: vivimos en un mundo situado en el universo de lo impredecible. Esto ya empieza en Debussy; por eso fue tan atacado, diciendo que esa música no nos llevaba a ninguna parte y que no estaba construida. Ha sido la generación posterior la que ha aceptado el terrible hecho de preguntarse: “¿es posible una forma de tiempo irrepetible?”; es decir, una forma en un tiempo que no transcurre como un ciclo cerrado, sino como un agua que se derrama sobre una superficie lisa. Entonces descubrimos que hay gran cantidad de músicas, no occidentales, que han partido de que la música es un entorno sonoro, que dura lo que tiene que durar, dura una noche entera a lo mejor, o dos horas, un minuto o unos segundos; y que, en el fondo, esa música está hecha para que uno se pierda en su tiempo (y que no es un tiempo que se posee, sino que es el tiempo el que le posee a uno)”.

“Es un pedazo de tu vida – siguió diciéndome Luis de Pablo – al que rodeas de un acontecimiento sonoro: esto es clarísimo en las músicas rituales tibetanas, por ejemplo, o en ciertas músicas ambientales africanas, en las que la música es estrictamente una improvisación muy medida, porque todo el mundo conoce la base de aquello, y que dura lo que la gente quiere que dure. No hay un canon establecido, entonces, en ese momento; el tiempo transcurre de otra forma, no para medirlo o dominarlo, sino para dialogar con él; con esto llegamos a un punto muy similar en Occidente. Son fenómenos que se producen por las distintas maneras de habitar el tiempo; ya hay atisbos de ello en Parsifal; allí hay momentos de un total estatismo de la música; ¿de dónde sacó esto Wagner? Me inclino a pensar que lo intuyó de la extraña idea de hacer al mismo tiempo una música profana y sagrada, una música que pudiera producir en el oyente una sensación de eternidad”. (“Diálogos con la cultura“.-páginas 181-194)

Y así seguimos charlando Luis De Pablo y yo, música y tiempo sobre el té de aquella tarde, música y  té en aquel mayo de 1977.

 Han pasado ya más de treinta años.

(Imágenes:-1.-”The Piano Player” (Movie Still 1).- 2002 -por David Claerbout.–Galleri K. -artnet/2.- Robert Doisneau.- Staley Wisse Gallery-/3.-”Embedded Red Violins” (Empreintes Rouges).-2004.-por Arman.–Le Violon Bleu.-Sidi Bou Said.-Tunez.-artnet)

Béla Bartók

Sonata for Violin and Piano No. 1 in C-sharp minor, BB 84 (Op. 21; Sz.75)
I. Allegro appassionato
II. Adagio
III. Allegro

Gidon Kremer (Violin); Martha Argerich (Piano)

Donwload (44.65 MB)
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Wczoraj o godzinie 22.30 Telewizja Polska wyemitowała transmisję ze spotkania Beli Bartoka i Zoltana Kodaly’ego z członkami kwartetu Waldbauer-Kerpely, które odbyło się w roku 1910. Spotkanie trwało 54 minuty, na zakończenie Bela Bartok pozdrowił polskich telewidzów. Była to pierwsza w historii telewizji transmisja na żywo z wydarzenia mającego miejsce w przeszłości. Jako następna planowana jest bitwa pod Grunwaldem lub śmierć Oskara Wilde’a, w zależności od warunków pogodowych.     (kisz)

Dorohoienii au avut parte in seara aceasta de un adevarat regal de muzică clasică adus cu ocazia festivalului international “Popasuri enesciene” care s-a desfăşurat in mai multe localităţi din ţară. La Dorohoi s-au incheiat manifestările dedicate celui mai mare compozitor roman, evenimentul avand loc la Muzeul Memorial “George Enescu” din Dorohoi. Evenimentul a fost pus la cale de Universitatea de Muzică din Bucuresti-Centrul de Excelenţă. Cei peste 50 de melomani care au asistat la concert s-au putut bucurat de prezenţa in mijlocul lor a lui Akane Otsuka din Japonia-flaut, castigătoare a marelui premiu la Concursul de Interpretare muzicală “Romania” de la Tokio, Saori Koike tot din Japonia-vioara, laureată la Concursul de interpretare muzicală “Romania” de la Tokyo, Alina Balaban din Romania -pian, Ioana Enea tot din Romania -pian. Sala a devenit neîncăpătoaare, oamenii fiind nevoiţi să stea chiar şi în picioare pentru a asculta muzica interpreţilor. Concertul a început la ora 17.00 şi a durat aproximativ două ore. Este prima dată când sala muzeului din Dorohoi găzduieşte un asemenea eveniment care a debutat în ţară pe data de 2 octombrie. Invitatii prezenti la Dorohoi cu aceasta ocazie au vizitat si casa memorială “George Enescu” de la Liveni fiind încântaţi de popasul dorohoian. Ba chiar, au ţinut să precizeze că la Dorohoi s-au simţit cel mai bine. În cadrul concertului au fost interpretate lucrări de George Enescu, Paul Consantinescu, Serghei Prokofiev, Bela Bartok, Jules Massenet, Ernst Chausson, Franz Doppler, Yasuda Funio, Philippe Gaubert.

Echipa Top Românesc, 6 octombrie 2009

Începând cu data de 2 octombrie iubitorii muzicii clasice din mai multe localităţi din ţară au ocazia să participe la o serie de concerte care se vor desfăşura sub titulatura “Popasuri enesciene”. Spectacolele organizate de Universitatea Naţională de Muzică Bucureşti – Centrul de Excelenţ, Romanian Music Society of Japan, Uniunea Compozitorilor şi Muzicologilor din România, Ambasada României în Japonia, Teatrul Naţional de Operetă „Ion Dacian”, Muzeul Judeţean Botoşani – Muzeul memorial „George Enescu” din Dorohoi, Muzeul Judeţean Prahova – Casa memorială „Paul Constantinescu” din Ploieşti, Asociaţia Culturală „Paul Constantinescu – 2009”vor avea loc în perioada 2-5 octombrie şi se vor încheia la Dorohoi, locurile natale ale marelui compozitor, George Enescu.  Îşi vor da concursul interpreţii Akane Otsuka (Japonia) – flaut, câştigătoarea Marelui Premiu la Concursul de Interpretare muzicală „România” de la Tokyo; Saori Koike (Japonia) – vioară laureată la Concursul de Interpretare muzicală „România” de la Tokyo; Alina Balaban (România) – pian, Ioana Enea (România) – pian. Vor fi interpretate lucrări de: George Enescu, Paul Constantinescu, Serghei Prokofiev, Béla Bartók, Jules Massenet, Ernst Chausson, Franz Doppler, Yasuda Fumio, Philippe Gaubert.

Programul turneului este următorul:

Vineri 2 octombrie 2009 – Bucureşti, Aula Palatului Cantacuzino (Calea Victoriei 141), ora 19

Sâmbătă 3 octombrie 2009 – Ploieşti, Casa Memorială „Paul Constantinescu” (Str. Nicolae Bălcescu 15), ora 17

Luni 5 octombrie 2009 – Dorohoi, Muzeul Memorial „George Enescu” (Str. George Enescu 81), ora 17

(intrarea este liberă la toate concertele)

Echipa Top Românesc, 25 septembrie 2009

]]> http://ammuse.wordpress.com/2009/09/01/the-american-string-quartet-at-maverick/ Tue, 01 Sep 2009 00:31:09 +0000 ammuse http://ammuse.wordpress.com/2009/09/01/the-american-string-quartet-at-maverick/

As a quartet (or any musician/band for that matter), you can either fade in time and not have the enthusiasm you once had, or you can retain the spark that made you want to play in the first place and ignite it further as you grow and develop. The American String Quartet is a fine illustration of the latter. They have been playing together for 35 years, and have an ease with one another. That ease translates into their interpretations of the music they play, which is vibrant and leaps from the page. Beloved at Maverick Concerts in Woodstock, NY, they returned there this year to play a stellar program:

String Quartet in D major, Op. 76, No. 5
Joseph Haydn

Allegretto
Largo ma non troppo: Cantabile e mesto
Menuetto: Allegro
Finale: Presto

String Quartet No. 3
Béla Bartók

Prima Parte: Moderato
Seconda Parte: Allegro
Recapitulazione della Prima Parte: Moderato
Coda: Allegro molto

String Quartet in D minor, D. 810, “Death And The Maiden”
Franz Schubert

Allegro
Andante con moto
Scherzo: Allegro molto
Presto

Haydn’s quartet has richness of sound, strength, beauty, and charm. First violin gets to show it’s virtousity in the first movement, and there are interesting counterpoints between all the instruments. In the Largo second movement, first violin once again gets the majority of the attention, as does second violin. The roles of cello and viola are vital, however, and after the music goes through a change, they both also get their time. Eventually returning to the golden opening, the movement is brought to a close. The lively Menuetto third movement is in waltz time, and soon gives way to the final movement. The Finale is continuously darting, moving swiftly as it rises and plummets. The dynamics add a great deal of excitement and personality to the music, and the American String Quartet’s delivery was a delight, their timing spot-on. That is obviously always important during any piece, but less than perfect timing would simply devastate the last movement of Hadyn’s quartet.

Bartók’s Quartet No. 3 is intense and startling. For people who don’t like his music to begin with, it is one of Bartók’s more progressive works. All the music he wrote is multi-dimensional, and Quartet No. 3 is exceptionally so, as well as being slightly futuristic — amazing, considering it was written in 1926! Although Bartók’s music is certainly not similar to anything Ravel or Debussy wrote, it is impressionistic in it’s own way. I for one always get lost in his textures, use of harmonies and dissonance, and the extra’s he adds to his pieces, such as the tapping of instruments for percussive effects, slides, and plucked or muted strings. All the parts of his quartet flow into one another, and before you know it there’s silence; the descriptive story told through musical notes has come to an end.

Schubert took his inspiration for  “Death And The Maiden” from a poem by Matthias Claudius, which you can find at the bottom of this post. It is one of my favorite works for string quartet by any composer, and I felt it was a fitting piece to close what was my last Maverick concert for the season (note: although I will not be attending either, there will be one more regular concert at Maverick on Saturday night, by the Maverick Chamber Players, followed by a Friends Concert on Sunday, open to anyone who became a “friend of Maverick” this year by making a monetary donation of fifty dollars or more). “Death And The Maiden” opens dramatically, eases back, then flashes dramtically again with meaningful chords. Even if you didn’t know the poem or the title of the quartet, you would be able to hear the duality between the powerful and the subdued, the gentle and the forceful, the dark and the bright, and the constant struggle between those that takes place during the piece, which the American Quartet brought alive in all it’s gloomy glory. The music of the first movement — and all the others, for that matter — is cloaked with a sense of inevitability. We hold out hope during the more tender passages, but ultimately know that doing so is useless; the darkness is too overpowering in it’s beckoning manner, and one can only resist for so long before eventually succumbing. First violin’s sad melody is accentuated by the other instruments’ expressive sorrow, and the music is dance-like at times, perhaps reflecting a pas de deux between Death and the maiden. The second movement is much sadder than the first, and is a solemn procession of sorts. The music then soars, but does so while bound in chains. It’s a doleful flight, a tale breathed for the winds to carry, a farewell to innocence and laughter. Death itself, as represented in the music, is not cruel but complicated, and the mood becomes more and more desperate. After a slight pause, all is brought to the light of day for a little while, spinning freely. Shortly after, the cold grip slowly takes hold again, creeping and choking in an effort to be understood. The joyful parts are weaker and weaker as the movement’s close draws near, snuffed to almost silence, but still faintly struggling to hold on. The last few notes are nothing more than a whisper. I’ve already established that the quartet itself is one of my favorite’s, but among the movements of the quartet, the fourth is probably the one I love the most. Once you hear the melody you’ll never forget it… The riders of Death are clearly heard descending at the opening, and still a struggle ensues, pressure mounting. A driving force drills the music deeper into despair, and the maiden in the tale is not the only one taken captive; as a listener, you are as well. Increasingly crazed, it’s a race to the end, which leaves you breathless. Death is (almost) always seen as the enemy, but with Schubert’s mastery, one can’t help but be moved to try to understand the complexity of what it stands for. The best music evokes some sort of emotion from the audience, and Schubert’s quartet is one of the best of the best. It was truly an experience to hear the American String Quartet play it  — one I won’t soon forget.

Maiden:
Stay away! Oh, stay away!
Go, fierce Death!
I am still young, please go!
And do not touch me.

Death:
Give me your hand, you beautiful and tender vision!
I am a friend, and come not to hurt you.
Be of good cheer! I am not cruel,
You will sleep softly in my arms!

There’s something magical about the sun shining while it’s raining, as it was outside Maverick Concerts in Woodstock, NY on Sunday. There’s also something magical about the Enso String Quartet , as there was during their concert at Maverick on Sunday. The quartet really does embody the definition of their name, which is Japanese for “circle,” and the Zen symbol that belongs to it, which has many meanings: perfection and imperfection, the simple and the profound, creation and the circle of life, the true nature of existence and enlightenment. Maureen Nelson on violin, John Marcus on violin, Melissa Reardon on viola, and Richard Belcher on cello create all those contradictions and more with their playing — in a good way!

String Quartet in D major, Op. 20, No. 4
Joseph Haydn

Allegro
Un poco adagio e affettuoso
Menuet alla zingarese
Presto e scherzando

String Quartet No. 4
Béla Bartók

Allegro
Prestissimo, con sordino
Non troppo lento
Allegretto pizzicato
Allegro molto

String Quartet No. 1 in A major, Op. 41, No. 1
Robert Schumann

Andante espressivo – Allegro
Scherzo: Presto
Adagio
Presto

Haydn’s quartet opens mildly, and is lyrical in all it’s parts: slow passages, forte runs, and all the other delights it contains. Through the first movements many progressions, the musicians timing was without flaw. The second movement begins with a melancholy melody guided by first violin. Second violin and viola then have a gentle duet, first violin and cello adding depth in their accompaniment, before cello leads the others, bringing the music through a woven path of sorrow. The music returns to the opening, and evolves from there to charge forcefully to an end. The third movement is playful — in a mature way — ushering in the last movement, which opens with runs on violin. The music is exciting, full of interesting dynamics and passages, and increases in passion to finish.

Bartók’s forcefully driving Quartet No. 4 is full of unusual sounds and textures (as all Bartok’s music is). Suave, frustrated, and begging are all words that come to mind when listing to the opening movement, and a few broken hairs on the musicians bows is to be expected due to the severity of the music — dissonant, although not displeasing — which grumbles at times, anxiously moving forward from moment to moment. All instruments play with muted strings for the second movement, which enters as though through the subconscious mind; never fully there, but inescapable all the same — a feeling that lasts the entire movement, which slides to an end with a question. The third movement is first heard descending upon the room, bewitching in personality and character. Cello goes on to claim the spotlight while the others continue the hazy music, before first violin hesitantly takes over. Viola then gets it’s turn, and whatever instruments aren’t showing their prowess continue to sustain a curtain of distant sound. Bows are put aside for the fourth movement, which is completely plucked. The music Bartók composed for that is some of the most innovative and interesting I have ever had the pleasure of hearing and, unless you have heard it for yourself, you can’t possibly imagine the sounds that can be coaxed by plucking four instruments… It’s extraordinary. Tribal and war-like, the last movement is somewhat hostile, but draws you in instead of making you back away. The outcome of the movement is decidedly complex, as is the music leading up to it’s conclusion. The piece is brilliant, and so was the Enso’s playing.

The exquisitely heartbreaking first movement of Schumann’s first string quartet has great depth. After a pause, the music restarts more brightly with a sun kissed glow, closing with a sustained note on first violin and two slow plucked notes on the other instruments. The second movement is daring and chivalrous, bringing to mind the imagery of a joust, or perhaps a sword fight. The middle section is more subdued, but then segways back into the sparring beginning. The music has perpetual motion, and a rousing finish. Cello helps introduce the absolutely majestic third movement, a short while later viola carries a moving melody full of mercy and tenderness, and finally all instruments play as equals, rising in spirals to soar above, in this case, the chapel where we the audience sat listening. The presto last movement showed off the Enso Quartet’s technique and passion, but that’s not to say it’s showy. It is energetic and has parts that are full of drama, yet others still are more simply played (but not simple). The latter parts are less and less, however, as the music draws to a close with nothing but exhilaration and abandon.

The Enso String Quartet, whose concert Sunday marked their Maverick debut, were called back to the stage three times after the last piece was finished. They got the not so subtle hint from the audience’s applause, stomping, and shouts of “Bravo!” that we wished to hear an encore, and obliged with a composition by a friend of theirs, Ljova. He is a composer and violist who has arranged music for a wide range of musicians, including Yo-Yo Ma, the Kronos Quartet, and Jay-Z, and has composed music for film and TV. The piece the quartet played on Sunday was called “Bagel on the Malecon.” There were shades of a Spanish tango embedded in the work, and the musicians played it with the same artfulness and sophistication that they did everything else. The Enso has earned itself a spot on my list of favorite string quartets, and I hope to see them at Maverick again in the summers to come.

Béla Bartók

Violin Concerto No. 2 in B minor, BB 117 (Sz. 112)
I. Allegro non troppo
II. Andante tranquillo
III. Allegro molto

Viktoria Mullova (Violin); Los Angeles Philharmonic New Music Group; Esa-Pekka Salonen (Conductor)

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Béla Bartók

String Quartet No. 5 in B- flat major, BB 110 (Sz. 102)
I. Allegro
II. Adagio molto
III. Scherzo: alla bulgarese
IV. Andante
V. Finale: Allegro vivace

Juilliard String Quartet

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Béla Bartók

String Quartet No. 4 in C major, BB 95 (Sz. 91)
I. Allegro
II. Prestissimo con sordino
III. Non troppo lento
IV. Allegretto pizzicato
V. Allegro molto

Juilliard String Quartet

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Béla Bartók

String Quartet No. 2 in A minor, BB 75 (Op.17; Sz. 67)
I. Moderato
II. Allegro molto capriccioso
III. Lento

Juilliard String Quartet

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Béla Bartók

String Quartet No. 1 in A minor, BB 52 (Op.7; Sz. 40)
I. Lento
II. Allegretto
III. Allegro vivace

Juilliard String Quartet

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Playing at Maverick Concerts in Woodstock, NY on Saturday were Maria Bachmann, violin; Wendy Sutter, cello; and Andrew Armstrong, piano. The musicians are not a trio (Maria belongs to Trio Solisti,  Wendy is both a soloist and chamber musician, and Andrew has performed as a soloist, chamber musician, and with many different orchestras over the years) but were playing together for “Wild Nights,” a wonderful evening of magical music.

Duo for Violin and Cello, Op. 7
Zoltán Kodály

Allegro serioso, non troppo
Adagio
Maestoso e largamente ma non troppo lento – Presto

Out Of Doors (Szabadban)
Béla Bartók

With Drums and Pipes—Pesante
Barcarolla—Andante
Musettes—Moderato
The Night’s Music—Lento—Un poco piu andante
The Chase—Presto

Sonata for Violin and Piano
Philip Glass

1) Quarter note = 120
2) Quarter note = 72
3) Quarter note = 116

Csárdás No. 4, Op. 32, “Hejre Kati” (Hey Katie!)
Jeno Hubay

Hungarian Dance No. 1 in G minor
Hungarian Dance No. 5 in G minor
Johannes Brahms

Kodály’s duo was written during WWI, and cello thrillingly opens the piece, with violin joining shortly. The two instruments share the spotlight, at times one carrying the melody as the other is plucked. Increasingly petulant, violin plays a soaring melody, while cello’s notes rock back and forth. A short cello solo leads the music into a downward spiral, and the movement ends ethereally angelic. The start of the second movement is introduced by cello as well, and Wendy coaxed rich sounds from her instrument — a viola da gamba built in the 1600’s by Nicolò Amati, a historical Italian luthier, and adapted to a cello by the master and his student Antonio Stradivari (yes, that Stradivari). The music is temperamental and, midway through, violin plays a high sustained note, signaling a shift in the mood of the music, which then becomes restless and scarce. The last few measures of the movement are barely a whisper, fading to a world beyond. The third is full of plucked strings, harsh chords, and friction. There are also a lot of repeated notes, creating a feeling of discontentment. That movement has the strongest noticeable folk dance theme of the three, kicking up the still air, and violin and cello have a lovely duet. After an ever so brief pause, the real folk music comes into play… A short song played by violin sounds as though it’s from the heart of a gypsy.

After Maria and Wendy got to show off a little with their duo, Andrew took the stage to play Bartók’s suite, which he played sensationally. The title of With Drums and Pipes is a quite literal description of the music itself. Notes are played so low on the keyboard they’re percussive, and frenzy ensues. The dark beauty of Barcarolla flows like a stream under the black of a moonless night. Musettes is constant, the rhythms hypnotic. A driving force in bass clef pulls the music muggily onward, while the right hand plays circles. Spooky, dare I use the word “impressionistic” sounds fill The Night’s Music, and all sorts of creatures (some imaginary, some not) can be heard if you listen for them. Adding to the experience of hearing the work at Maverick was the sound of cicadas outside, the song of chickadees, and the occasional sqwuak of a crow (the end of The Night’s Music was embellished with a few of those). The Chase can be interpreted any number of ways, and that is what’s so great about Bartók’s music; it’s up to the individual to decide how to perceive it, based upon their own emotions and thoughts. As for me, during the last piece in the set I imagined a person attempting to escape from their own inner demons, in a heightened and dramatic way (I wonder what that says about me psychologically… But then, the entire suite is full of psychological music, and what the listener hears doesn’t neccesarily mean it’s a reflection of their subconscious. I, for one, just happen to have a vivid imagination).

Philip Glass’s first Sonata for Violin and Piano was commissioned for Maria Bachmann (the Maverick performance of it being the area premiere), and the piece shimmered like, well, glass. Actually, perhaps a better description would be diamonds, for the music was as multifaceted as a flawless cut of the precious stone. The piece was endlessly flowing, mystical and enchanting, and rose high above fear and doubts. The first movement was achingly beautiful and inspiring, and a bird started chirping right at it’s close, falling silent again when the equally beautiful second movement started. The melody violin carries during that one is delicate, and doesn’t progress the way one might expect — it’s full of little surprises. I was moved beyond description, tears streaming from my closed eyes, colors playing behind my lids, and a labyrinth of thoughts flowing through my mind. The third and final movement was strong and powerful. Wide use was made of violin’s range, and the instrument nearly continuously played, hardly resting for more than a breath before plunging back in. The music was free, running wildly through notes which knew no bars, as piano lent itself as the backbone to all that, the most endurant of companions. Philip Glass’s Sonata for Violin and Piano is glory in it’s truest and most righteous form, and Mr. Glass captured something rare with his sonata, as did the musicians with their playing.

Csárdás is a dance that starts out slow and increases in speed, ending very fast, and Hubay’s piece by that name is infused with a real flair and grace. The delightful work runs nimbly onward, faster, faster, and faster still! The notes on piano are like splatters of raindrops at times, and all the instruments get to be really spectacular at the end.

Only one Hungarian Dance was listed on the program, No. 5, but Maria Bachmann stated that they would be playing two, saying, “Brahms’ Hungarian Dances are like potato chips. Can you really just have one?” And so the audience was treated to two. Brahms’ Hungarian Dance No. 1 could stir even the coldest and most uncompromising of classical-hating hearts, and No. 5 is always a delight. The musicians kept topping themselves with the passion of their playing, and by the end of the latter dance, my heart was racing along. It surely must have skipped a beat along the way, as I got more and more caught up in the excitement. Nothing I’ve ever said, or ever will, can top the music I heard on Saturday, and this entry is simply my humble attempt to share my experience with everyone, and somehow try to translate how wonderful it was! One can only do the best they can.

Eis um post histórico (não tanto pela importância que virá a ter para os visitantes alienígenas, mas pelo assunto de que trata). Falarei um tanto sobre o que eu acho importante na música do séc. XX, à guisa de introdução ao Minimalismo.

Schoenberg foi a Primeira Guerra Mundial da música. E, em certa medida, a Segunda também. Ciente que a evolução das artes era inevitável e necessária, foi quem “descobriu” o atonalismo. Richard Strauss já havia trabalhado com pesadas dissonâncias, e Debussy , com sua música sinestésica, desmembrou o tonalismo em cores flutuantes, fugindo da convenção tonal. A originalidade de Schoenberg foi pôr a dissonância em primeiro plano – ela não era apenas um recurso dramático, mas o esqueleto da música. Espinhoso, o atonalismo podia furar ouvidos, e muitos gritaram de dor.

Estava isolado na ponta aguda da vanguarda, acompanhado apenas de seus discípulos Anton Webern e Alban Berg. Entretanto, a Primeira Guerra veio antes na música que nos battlefields. Com a retalhação da Europa em cicatrizes de trincheiras e corrosão explosiva, compositores menos perspicazes viram no atonalismo uma oportunidade de serem “modernos”. Uma enxurrada de partituras atonais surgiram nesta época, inflando o mercado musical de gente que queria “chocar”. Assim, batutas tornaram-se chocalhos, e, apesar de gente interessante como Edgar Varèse, a música parecia estagnada.

Paralelo a isso, outros nomes são necessários. O primeiro é russo, Igor Stravinsky. Ele aboliu a valsa dos balés, substituindo-a por danças tribais, sacrifícios humanos e gelo partindo ao meio. Conscientizou a Europa que o ritmo era um elemento-chave na composição, e que inovações posteriores não podiam ignorar esta faceta, deplorada em relação à harmonia.Há também Béla Bartók, que encontrou um caminho intermediário entre Stravinsky e Schoenberg, com invenções no ritmo e na harmonia, tendo por base as canções folclóricas da Hungria. E por que não citar Charles Ives, que talvez tenha feito composições atonais anos antes de Schoenberg, mas em sua casa nos Estados Unidos, e sem contar para ninguém?

A parte II deste post segue amanhã, ou ainda hoje de noite, não sei. Acabou meu intervalo, preciso trabalhar.

Um aperto de mãos aos meus leitores,

Lorean Linchen

På lördag kl 19.00 spelar Göteborgs Symfoniker på Götaplatsen under kulturkalaset. 

B Tommy Andersson dirigerar och det kommer att spelas musik av bland annat Bela Bartok.

Kom gärna dit och lyssna!

Bela Bartok

I recently watched a documentary on the life of Bela Bartok, the 20th century Hungarian classical composer. He died at age 64, still full of ideas yet to be put to music paper, not to be given the life that would allow us to be enriched by his creativity. He knew it and he regretted it, saying on his death bed that he had hoped to have left the world with an “empty trunk.” His “trunk,” occupied by what he could yet give the world had he “world enough and time,” was still full.

It strikes me that Bartok’s sense of responsibility to life is admirable. He believed that since he had come into this world with nothing, as all of us do, he should leave with nothing. He saw this as his obligation to himself, his fellow man, and to life itself. That is, to give everything that he had, to empty himself of whatever “good” or goods he had to give. In other words, to live as full and complete a life as possible in revealing the gifts that nature had bestowed upon him.

Creative people often feel chosen. They tend to believe that they have a “calling,” something that cannot be ignored. They write or compose, not because it is a way to make a living. Indeed, they often continue their creative efforts despite the fact that, like Bartok, they cannot make a living doing it (Bartok was about to be evicted from his New York City apartment when he died). These people persist, even without recognition, out of an “inner necessity.” They write, in a way, because they cannot do otherwise. Many people consider this to be something similar to the religious calling often described by clergy.

What is your calling? Perhaps you don’t feel you have one. But even if you lack this sense of driveness and purpose, Bartok’s example might still provide you with a model for life. I think that Bartok’s notion isn’t really very different from those athletes who say that try to “leave it all on the field,” giving everything they have to the game they are playing. And, while most of us are not great heros, creative geniuses, or athletes, we can emulate this model if we choose: to live as fully and intensely as possible, work hard, love our friends and family passionately and well, seek always to enrich our knowledge and understanding, face challenges rather than running from them, and give the world whatever we have to give in order to make it, and us, better–in Bartok’s words, to arrive at the end of our days with a trunk that is empty.

To choose such a life rejects the alternative of dutiful routine and “quiet desperation.” It will also, I suspect, reduce your chance of regret. And what is regret? According to Janet Landman, it is “the persistence of the possible,” the aching reproach of the road not taken, the fear not faced, the effort not made, the life that might have been, “if only…”

Yes, the idea of living so that one might leave with “an empty trunk” has appeal.

I can think of worse philosophies of life.

Sometime in the early 1940’s, Bela Bartok emigrated to the United States.  He was broke, and, what is worse, sick.  Serge Koussevitsky, conductor of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, commissioned him to write  a piece, which he composed while lying sick.  The result was his concerto for orchestra, a magnificent piece human ingenuity.  In it is all the angst and hope that one would think a suffering man might have.  Sometimes the worst circumstances in life produce the most amazing and surprising things.  That’s comforting when times are tough.  When times are good, it’s a frightening thought.

Here’s the first movement: