I’d rather talk about last Thursday's (17.11) concert with the Finnish Radio Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Hannu Lintu.
For me, the high point of the cleverly programmed concert (‘Feria-sandwich’ as Lintu named it) is Anders Hillborg’s Dreaming River. In it, soundworlds and styles follow each other so seamlessly, that as a listener you don’t realise you’ve entered a new world until you are already well past the threshold and already in the midst of it. The same can be said about perception of dreams – but who can be certain. Dreaming River only deals with certainty and erected monoliths at the passing. The real focus is in the transition.
No, not in the same way as Him – this music is much more porous.
The concept of pebbles thrown into the water to create an immediate resultant percussion – and varying the impacts to create respective, different responses – is not unheard of, but Hillborg presents it with good taste. Two Chinese Suonas at either side of the nest that is the stage in the main concert hall of Musiikkitalo in Helsinki, incant the two pitches that set the particles vibrating; the vibrations further enhanced by the innate hoarseness the reedy sound. Wonderful interpretations of small disturbances in an otherwise quite smooth airflow follow: the piece grows very naturally out of this setting, but very quickly – and as stated above, somehow imperceptibly – changes into other, seemingly unrelated moods.
What a catharsis it is then, when near the end original material returns. We had forgotten about the proto-oboes. The performance can still be heard at the Yle web-player. The piece is also in Spotify, conducted by Salonen.
Is has to now be said, and I am baffled by this change of stance, that an English noun being qualified by an English adjective or by a present participle, which is a common format for the title of a piece of western art music since the 1970s, does not necessarily make it uninteresting.
Memo: The FRSO have gotten accustomed to their new home pitch, but the over-enhanced string section needs more space in the player’s consciousness (can’t wait to hear Apollon musagète, Music for SP&Celesta or Shostakovich’s 14th Symphony in there though; as the stage itself acts as though it is a string instrument of gargantuan proportions).
Näytetään tekstit, joissa on tunniste expectations. Näytä kaikki tekstit
Näytetään tekstit, joissa on tunniste expectations. Näytä kaikki tekstit
perjantai 25. marraskuuta 2011
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?
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?
