Nel giorno del mio compleanno (24/01), la BBC aveva messo in linea Inori di Stockhausen. Comprendeva anche una lunga presentazione. Purtroppo la BBC non si è degnata di avvertirmi del regalo che ormai rimarrà in linea solo per altri 2 giorni. Fortunatamente è comparso anche su Youtube.
Written in 1973-74, Inori is based on prayer-like gestures interpreted on stage by a mime and a dancer. The expressive movements, performed by the two silent soloists and drawn from a variety of religious practices, are mirrored in the response of two orchestral groups.
Continuiamo con Scelsi e con questo affascinante Elohim per 10 archi (4 violini, 3 viole, 3 celli), opera di difficile datazione perché pubblicata postuma.
Elohim (אֱלוֹהִים , אלהים) in ebraico è un plurale della parola “divinità” – Eloah (אלוה) – che ha suscitato non pochi interrogativi fra gli esegeti biblici. L’Elohim di Scelsi ruota attorno ad un accordo di 7 note (Mi, La Sib, Do, Do#, Fa#, Sol) che appare 15 volte nel corso di questo breve lavoro, inframmezzato da “risposte” che si muovono verso gli acuti, diventando via via più violente fino a creare un campo di glissandi e alla fine svanire.
Restando su Scelsi, questa volta vi propongo Konx-Om-Pax, un brano per orchestra (con l’esclusione dei flauti e l’aggiunta dell’organo e di un coro misto nel finale) del 1969.
Il commento del solito Todd McComb su Classical.net è ottimo ed esauriente:
Konx-Om-Pax is also one of Scelsi’s most effective compositions, using relatively simple material projected on a broad canvas. It is scored for large orchestra (including full strings, and lacking only flutes) along with organ, and in the final movement a mixed chorus. It was premiered on February 6th, 1986 by the Hessian Radio Orchestra in Frankfurt and conducted by Jurg Wyttenbach. The title of the piece is three words meaning ‘peace,’ in ancient Assyrian, Sanskrit and Latin. It is subtitled: “Three aspects of Sound: as the first motion of the immovable, as creative force, as the sacred syllable ‘Om.’” Konx-Om-Pax is especially effective at creating a feeling of peace, and as such is a particularly useful piece for coping with the modern world.
The first movement is based entirely on C, first treated as in inner pedal, and fans out harmonically at first symmetrically and then asymmetrically with the addition of quarter tones, rising to a great climax completely elaborating the underlying C. This movement is a gradual gathering of harmonic forces, with great calming effect. The short second movement begins on F, slowly builds until unleashing a great explosion of power in the form of rapid chromatic scales engulfing everything in their path, and ends again on F. The third movement is on A (and recall that the movement from C to A was the basic feature of Quartet No. 4 (1964)) and marks the entrance of the chorus, chanting only the syllable Om, and supported by the orchestra. This movement gives the impression (however absurd it may seem) of process-music or even a fugue on the single note theme, ‘Om.’ This is accomplished by a tight interior chromaticism with microtonal variations, a careful consideration of length of utterance and inflection, and by the building of a countersubject out of harmonic resonances. The entries of ‘Om’ continue steadily throughout the slowly-paced movement. The movement is in three sections: the first builds slowly, sticking almost entirely to ‘Om’ with single note responses; the second is an extended episode dominated by the orchestra, with percussive punctuation, in which harmonic associations are worked out in more detail; and the third re- introduces the chorus on ‘Om’ along with the longer countersubject developed in the previous episode, slowly fading away in a profound ending to this majestic work.
In many ways, Konx-Om-Pax is Scelsi’s most perfect creation: it attests to his supreme power of harmony, and above all it is always effective. For many of Scelsi’s works, it is necessary to have the proper frame of mind in order to approach, but here that frame of mind is established within the twenty-minute work itself. Hence other pieces can be ineffective at times, but with Konx-Om-Pax this is never the case.
Continuiamo con Scelsi perché è un compositore relativamente poco conosciuto in Italia, ma osannato all’estero, soprattutto in Francia, dove è considerato l’antesignano della musica spettrale. In realtà Giacinto Scelsi è un grande compositore, come tutti con alti e bassi, ma ha contribuito a creare alcuni degli stilemi che hanno permeato tutta la musica degli anni ’60 e ’70, prima fra tutte l’idea del suono che si sviluppa a partire da una singola nota.
Qui abbiamo Uaxuctum del 1966, un brano molto drammatico, come testimonia il sottotitolo “la leggenda della città maya che si autodistrusse per motivi religiosi“. Il brano è idealmente diviso in cinque movimenti che corrispondono ad altrettanti video in You Tube. Come al solito metto la prima e i link alle altre parti,
This extraordinary piece is in five movements, totaling approximately twenty minutes. In addition to the large chorus, written at an astonishingly difficult technical level, the work is scored for: four vocal soloists (two sopranos, two tenors, electronically amplified), ondes Martenot solo, vibraphone, sistrum, Eb clarinet, Bb clarinet, bass clarinet, four horns, two trumpets, three trombones, bass tuba, double bass tuba, six double basses, timpani and seven other percussionists (playing on such instruments as the rubbed two-hundred liter can, a large aluminum hemisphere, and a two-meter high sheet of metal). The chorus is written in ten and twelve parts, incorporating all variety of microtonal manipulations, as well as breathing and other guttural and nasal sounds. This piece is certainly Scelsi’s most difficult to perform, and was not premiered until October 12th, 1987 by the Cologne Radio Chorus and Symphony Orchestra. Uaxuctum is subtitled: “The legend of the Maya city, destroyed by themselves for religious reasons” and corresponds to an actual Maya city in Peten, Guatemala which flourished during the first millennium AD; in addition, the Mexican state of Oaxaca comes from the same ancient meso-American root.
This is an intensely dramatic work, and the most bizarre in Scelsi’s output. It depicts the end of an ancient civilization – residing in Central America, but with mythical roots extending back to Egypt and beyond – it is the last flowering of a mystical and mythological culture which was slowly destroyed by our modern world. In this case, Scelsi says, the Mayans made a conscious decision to end the city themselves. Uaxuctum incorporates harmonic elements throughout, and is extremely difficult to come to terms with.
The first movement, the longest of the five, is a grand overture; it begins in quiet contemplation, only to be interrupted by the violent mystical revelation of the chorus propelling this story into the present from the distant past, and then sinking back into meditative tones with a presentiment of the upcoming adventure. In the wild and dramatic second movement, we enter the world of the Mayans, complete with mysticism in all aspects of life; it is an incredible and violent tour-de-force of orchestral writing. The short third movement opens with an atmosphere of foreboding, building into a realization of things to come, and reaching a decision. After a few seconds of silence, the city of Uaxuctum is quickly destroyed and abandoned. The fourth movement is dominated by the chorus throughout, and presents the wisdom gained by the Mayans as they gradually fade into oblivion. The fifth movement returns to the opening mood, and gives a dim recollection of the preceding events which have now been told, in abstract form, to our time and civilization.
There really are no proper words to describe this amazing piece, which presents Scelsi at his most daring and innovative. It is a world all to itself, and a warning.
Here in binaural recording. Headphones are mandatory to hear the binaural effect.
Orchestre philharmonique et Choeur de Radio France – Aldo Brizzi
Si tratta di un brano nel più puro stile Scelsi in cui varie sonorità evolvono da un unico suono iniziale. L’organico è una formazione orchestrale modificata, che include piano, coro, organo e sei percussionisti, ma esclude totalmente i violini.
Pfhat was premiered by Jurg Wyttenbach and the Hessian Radio Orchestra in Frankfurt on February 6th, 1986. It is in four movements, totaling under nine minutes. The subtitle reads: “A flash… and the sky opened!” and the title is apparently chosen for its onomatopoeic quality. This is an extremely concise depiction of mystical revelation for full orchestra, divided into four brief movements each of which presents a single gesture in sound.
The first movement is based on the choir’s breathing sounds, supported by only thirteen instruments. Here we have the emergence of sound from immobility, leading into an ‘om’-ing from the tubas, and anticipating the upcoming surge of power. The very short second movement consists of a sudden ringing cluster for full orchestra and chorus, gradually fading away. The slow third movement begins with a quiet fanfare punctuated by ringing intervals, and gradually builds with the om-ing and sighing of the chorus into a large complex of sound elaborating a single note. The eerie fourth movement presents us with revelation from the open sky: the piccolo, flute, celesta, piano and organ play a very high ostinato on a semi-tone while the rest of the orchestra and chorus quickly ring high-pitched dinner bells. The glittering, crystalline and static sound is certainly unique in the symphonic literature. This work (and the last movement in particular!) is Scelsi’s most singular attempt at ushering the listener into his sound universe. The succession of movements is highly dramatic, and listening to Pfhat for the first time is certain to be one of one’s most intense listening experiences.
[Todd McComb in Classical Net]
Searching the old releases from Test Tube, I found this EP by Ubeboet, a sound artist based in Madrid involved in electronic/experimental music since mid 90’s. This work, titled Bleak EP, is dated 2004.
Bleak EP, by Ubeboet, is one of those kind of releases that lives on lasting relationships and on constant reintegration processes, achieving ‘that’ multidimensionality (big word) typical of the acoustic universe, giving so much freedom to the listener, that he (or she) will diminish or amplify the particular singularities of the sound particles that go in and out of the brain.
This work could be very easily integrated into the art of installationism, although never leaving the ‘soundscape’ genre. A constant struggle to arrive (or at least try to) an ideal of ‘musique concrète’. Holding itself to the capturing of sound landscapes, submitting them to a low-frequency treatment, Ubeboet breathes a comforting ‘less is more’ ambient, (re)created and integrated into unhabited sound habitats, or sometimes directly injected into the overcrowded urban territory. Ubeboet rests in the complex world of the ‘anti-fast listening’, where the perception and the raw and naked power of the music are intimately connected. A not-easy, not-clear and not-resolved world, into which we are forced to submerge and seek for the unknown. Highly recommended. [Bruno Barros]
L’apprezzabile Concerto per viola e orchestra di Sofia Gubaidulina scritto nel 1996-97 è qui eseguito da Yuri Bashmet che ne è il dedicatario. L’orchestra è la sinfonica di Colonia diretta da Seymon Bychkov.
Da un vinile del 1965 ormai fuori catalogo, Leonard Bernstein Conducts Music of Our Time, Bernstein dirige la New York Philharmonic in Atmosphères di Gyorgy Ligeti, un brano di cui abbiamo già parlato qualche tempo fa, ma che è sempre emozionante riascoltare.
La direzione di Bernstein è sorprendentemente chiara, ma quello che mi ha sconvolto è che è altrettanto sorprendentemente breve. Solo 6’30” contro i circa 8’30” di altre esecuzioni. Due minuti di differenza sono tanti, così ho tirato fuori la partitura. Il calcolo della durata totale non è immediato perché il tempo cambia spesso da 40 a 60 alla semiminima, ma un po’ di conti mi danno come risultato 8’34”.
Così ho confrontato i file audio dell’esecuzione di Bernstein e di quella di Nott usando Audacity e il risultato è questo. Sopra Nott e sotto Bernstein (click per allargare):
Come vedete l’esecuzione di Bernstein è temporalmente compressa, oltre ad essere dinamicamente più alta. Sembra che vada all’incirca il 25% più veloce. Qui sotto le due esecuzioni
Come ultimo post dell’anno, dedichiamo questa lunga improvvisazione, che sa di insetti e di palude devoniana, allo Jaekelopterus rhenaniae, il più grande artropode (insieme all’Arthropleura) che abbia mai mosso le chele sul nostro pianeta, circa 390 milioni di anni fa.
Al di là della dedica, questo è un altro brano in cui accostiamo alle sonorità sintetiche dei veri suoni di insetti che il sottoscritto ha pazientemente raccolto e pulito per una installazione fatta a Mantova l’estate scorsa. Questi suoni sono stati campionati, trasposti varie ottave in basso e rallentati, per portare in evidenza la loro struttura complessa che sfugge se li ascoltiamo alla velocità e alla frequenza a cui gli insetti li emettono e costituiscono l’ossatura della prima parte e il foreground della seconda.
Un video in cui David Tudor itself esegue 4’33”, registrato molto probabilmente per una TV giapponese.
La cosa più buffa è il messaggio che scorre in sovrimpressione:
You are invited to turn down the volume of your TV set, and listen to the ambient sounds present wherever this program is performed.
Non si capisce perché abbassare il volume della TV se il brano è silenzioso, come se gli eventuali suoni trasmessi dall’apparecchio non fossero degni di essere ascoltati.
Searching the old releases from 