torstai 27. lokakuuta 2011

Musique d’ameublement

If all the pieces in the concert on Wednesday night at Musiikkitalo,in Helsinki would have been previously unknown to me, I would’ve thought that they were written in chronological order. This would mean that – although the concert saw the world premiere of Uljas Pulkkis’ Piano Concerto, written for Henri Sigfridsson, who’s also giving the first two performances – the concluding Sibelius’ 4th Symphony takes on the role of the beacon-bearing bow of western art music. However rightful this statement may sound to the fervent Sibelian, I find it rather curious in an almost unholy way.

Be this as it may, Pulkkis’ new work is striking, not least for the obvious eschewing of the modernist school. It shamelessly sets out to present what the composer wants, without restraints. This seemingly hedonistic approach is, in principle, refreshing – but somehow I couldn’t feel freshness in this piece. Perhaps this is due to my expectations: as of yet, I only know a little about the composer’s work – but my mind was subliminally set to something along the lines of what one might hear at a Music of Today -concert at the Royal Festival Hall in London, or even at the Philharmonie in Berlin. Bound to be disappointed? I certainly don’t think so – but this is, of course, my problem.

What I failed to understand was, that this was a big concert with two performances, aimed at the largest possible public, and that this was an orchestral piece – not an ensemble piece, where cutting-edge lingo can successfully be bound into a tighter and potentially more widely tangible package with more ease and fewer rehearsal hours. On the other hand – these factors should be second hand to a composer unearthing his vision. Perhaps I simply misjudged what Pulkkis was aiming at. Back to point e).

Expectations are governed largely to what one wants to hear. I wanted to hear a fresh take on an old machine – a new look at the soloist/accompanist schism – something that cleverly draws from musical tradition and builds on it. This is also my problem, yes, but forgetting the previous three I-want-to-hears, am I not right to expect something unheard of when going to see a world premiere?

Maybe Pulkkis wanted to create something undateable? In that case I would retort that it sounds certainly older than the Sibelius played alongside it (now to think of it, an unfortunate twist in an otherwise good programming principle: Sibelius 4 works very well alongside modern repertoire, the old man being something of a modernist honoraris – this being especially the case with this particular concert). Maybe his intent was to recreate a romantic concerto? This came across my mind very early on, and I proceeded to remove my contemporary ears – and listen to the piece, as if it would’ve been Wagner’s or Nielsen’s long lost Piano Concerto. I very quickly realized what a ridiculous attitude this was to take – I’m now imposing just another historical period on the piece. What went wrong in my listening?

Perhaps this was, for Pulkkis, and unheard-of piece. In that case I can but disagree, and go about my business as he will undoubtedly do as well.

As one xkcd comic-strip shows, a scientist is not, in fact, happy at all to work in a frictionless vacuum. This is the same for a keen listener of classical music – or at least to someone that listens to music as part of his profession. The tradition and historical development of western art music exists in the now. Even any eschewing action is done in relation to it, not to mention any sign of indifference. It is impossible to listen to something impartially. Hear we may, but listening demands enough attention from the human brain to draw up connections and contexts. Perhaps I should’ve just heard the piece – but then I wouldn’t have felt as involved. Perhaps the composer didn’t want me to get involved? Was this music just to be heard?

maanantai 24. lokakuuta 2011

poco f

...is a brilliantly ambiguous dynamic marking. It can mean that something should sound louder than the precedent, as well as softer – depending naturally on the precedent dynamic; p in the former, f in the latter. It cleverly provides a more street-credible (or noble, as it were) version of the somewhat uninteresting mf. It can also help to override the danger of the music becoming dynamically too polarised or megalomaniac in nature, although it’s use in full orchestral tutti (as seen in some of the later works by Sibelius, namely 5th and 7th symphonies) communicates a feeling of grandeur that doesn’t even sound withheld or reserved, to name but one contradicting example.

The obvious danger in using this marking is that the performer is left 'a son propre chef’ [rt. from his own initiative] to decide in what mood and volume to play – but this is the case (but not too strictly) anyway, at the end of the day.

Or at least, more often than composers would like to admit. But then I wouldn't know, I'm on the hoodblinked side.

tiistai 18. lokakuuta 2011

Myös oopperaväki tietää Movember:in

Simon Holt sanoi kerran, että voi lopettaa säveltämisen sitten kun onnistuu sijoittamaan teokseensa uskottavan kaksoislautasiskun, ja päästyään näin osaamisensa ja uransa huipulle.

Tämän anekdootin kerroin (hyvällä tarkoituksella – vaikka lausahduksesta olisi helposti saanut pirullisemmankin) myös ’Yhden yön juttu’-oopperan säveltäjälle, Olli Kortekankaalle esityksen jälkeen, nimittäin kaksoislautasisku orkesterimontusta pirteästi kajahtaakin oopperan soidessa kiihkeimmin.

Kortekankaan Michael Baranin librettoon säveltämä kaksituntinen ’Yhden yön juttu’ on Sibelius-Akatemian laulumusiikin osaston tilausteos, joka soi loka-marraskuussa uudessa Musiikkitalon Sonore-salissa sekä oppilas- että ammattilaisvoimin. Pitkän uran oopperakapellimestarina mm. Savonlinnan Oopperajuhlilla tehneen Markus Lehtisen aloitteesta lähtenyt projekti huipentuu kahdeksaan esitykseen vuorottelevalla kokoonpanolla.

Lytätkää minut loppuunkaluttujen leimojen lekalla, mutta tämä teos on postmoderni. Teoksen vahvuus on sen kyvyssä vetää maailmanmenosta mitä moninaisimpia ja surrealistisimpia rihmoja, joista säveltäjä oman ajatusmaailmansa puikoilla kutoo mattoa myytäväksi. Säveltäjällään on selvästi dramaturgian taju kohdallaan kyetessään luontevasti venyttää aikaa tarpeisiinsa ja luomaan vaikuttavan solmujen avautumisen pahimman kriisin jälkeen, jossa teoksen osaset ovat juuri paikallaan (en puhu nyt lopun duetosta päähenkilön Axen ja Ainutin välillä – sen pentatoninen harmonia avaa solmut mielestäni liiankin höllälle, saattaen juuri äskettäin kovia kokeneet hahmot tahattoman naurunalaisiksi. Modernistipaholainen huomauttaisi, että tässä nostaa jälleen päätään ongelma funktionaalisen konsonanssin käyttämisestä pelkkänä työkaluna muiden joukossa).

Silti koen kutkuttavan potentiaalin omaavien juonirihmojen käytön teoksessa liian kiltiksi. On maininta transeksuaalista, haalea jazztrio, kolme kissaa laudalla sekä lainaukset Murakamista ja Sibeliuksen 1. Sinfoniasta – mutta todelliset, tilanteiden vahvat etabloitumiset jäävät valitettavan vähiin. Mielestäni teoksessa olisi ainesta vielä syvemmälle koluamiselle – niin paljon kiinnostavaa materiaalia on pinnalta käsin havaittavissa. Saattaa toki olla, että saan mitä haluan toisella kuuntelukerralla. Ehkä teoksessa on tasoja, joista en osannut tämäniltaisessa esityksessä uneksiakaan.

Ai niin, ja päähenkilö pohtii oopperan lopussa viiksien kasvattamista – ja peittää raivostuttavasti tällä repliikillään sen mitä hänen piti sanoa, eli sen mikä olisi voinut olla oopperan Rosebud.