Day 68
9 March 2017:
Rimsky-Korsakov – Symphony No. 1 In E Minor (1884)
It's hard to conceive
of a symphony that had a more protracted journey to reach its finished state
than this one. Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov, another child prodigy, started
composing this symphony at the age of just 15. Rimsky continued working on it
for another two years under the guidance of his mentor Mily Balakirev, whose own
first symphony I featured on 18 February, and by 1861 three of its four
movements had been written. At that point, Rimsky was conscripted into the
Russian Navy for three years. Far from letting this minor inconvenience
handicap his progress, he managed to complete the one remaining movement – the
second, Andante tranquillo – during
shore leave in England. That was far from the end of the symphony's story
though, as once Rimsky's spell as naval cadet was over, he carried out a degree
of rework on it, before it was eventually premiered in 1865, six years after it
was started. Then, nineteen years later, it was thoroughly revised, with the
most fundamental change being that of the key, which shifted up a semitone from
E flat to E. This is the version that is now accepted as the definitive one.
Balakirev's influence
is strong. As the founder of The Five,
or The Mighty Handful, that
Rimsky-Korsakov would become a member of, he was concerned with the creation of
a truly Russian school of music, fully detached from Germanic influences. It
was claimed by contemporary Russian critics that this symphony was the
"First Russian Symphony", although Rimsky acknowledged the influence
of Schumann and, specifically in orchestration, Berlioz. It does make extensive
use of Russian folk music, which was certainly a first, and ironically inspired
Balakirev who began his own first symphony at around the time. A rare case of a
pupil influencing his master.
Day 69
10 March 2017: Vasks –
Symphony No. 1 for strings, 'Stimmen' (1991)
The Latvian composer Pēteris Vasks is a relatively new
discovery for me. I first heard his Cello
Concerto No. 2 just over a year ago and had one of those uplifting
experiences that occurs when you discover a new voice. His first symphony is
cut from the same cloth as the cello concerto, and contains some glorious
string writing. It dates from 1991, when his native Latvia was freeing itself from
the former USSR, and is symbolic of that struggle in the face of the failed
Soviet clampdown. The contrast of quiet, glacial writing with dissonant,
aggressive music is very much his trademark. By turns, minimalist and avant
garde, and always intensely passionate.
Three voices (Stimmen)
are heard over the course of the piece. The first movement, 'Voices of Silence', is beautiful and elegiac, echoing to some extent the music of Arvo Pärt,
although there is far more going on than static minimalism. The central 'Voices of
Life' movement begins in the same expansive tone, with bursts of birdsong
emerging from tremolando strings. The mood soon becomes disturbing and dark,
and reaches its climax in a swirling dissonance that eventually emerges into an
almost hymn-like third movement, entitled 'Voices of Conscience'. It is an
absolutely magnificent piece of work, and I commend it in the highest possible
terms!
Day 70
11 March 2017:
Herschel – Symphony No. 8 (1761)
If ever there was a
life well-lived it was that of William Herschel. Born in Hanover, Herschel
moved to England at the age of 19 following the path trodden by Handel 40 years
earlier. Herschel held a variety of musical posts, including leader of an
orchestra in Newcastle and organist at the Octagon Chapel in Bath. And it was
while he was based in the North East, specifically Sunderland, that he wrote
this symphony, which is a really marvellous work that seems to be at once
Baroque and Classical. He went on to write 24 symphonies, 14 concerti, and a
substantial body of work that would be enough to cement his reputation as a
great composer.
That wasn't enough for
young William, however, because by his mid-30s, Herschel had begun to develop
an interest in astronomy and began building his own telescopes. As well as his
work observing double stars, there was the small matter of discovering the
planet Uranus in 1781! He also discovered two moons of Saturn, infrared
radiation in sunlight, and even dabbled in biology. An extraordinary man, and
in many ways his substantial contribution to the world of science has, sadly,
rather belittled his work as a composer.
Day 71
12 March 2017: Davies
– Symphony No. 8. 'Antarctic Symphony' (2001)
The first symphony
from the 21st Century featured so far, Peter Maxwell Davies's Antarctic Symphony effectively brought
him out of retirement as a symphonist. Having been commissioned by the British
Antarctic Survey to write a work effectively to mark the 50th anniversary of
Vaughan Williams' Sinfonia Antartica – the symphony he fashioned from his score for the 1948 film Scott of the Antarctic – Max was able to draw on his own experience
of having attended an early performance of the Vaughan Williams work in 1953.
Davies was required by
terms of the commission to visit the Antarctic, and it was from these two
sources – the Antarctic itself, and Vaughan Williams' symphony based upon it – that he drew his inspiration. It's a work for very large orchestra, which
features a huge battery of unconventional percussion instruments, including
tuned brandy glasses, a football rattle, a biscuit tin filled with broken
glass, and three lengths of metal scaffolding. Quite often these are used to
depict very specific events from the journey, such as the sound of cracking ice
clattering against the hull of the ship on its journey through the frozen South
Atlantic. It is a single-movement work of around 40 minutes’ duration, and is
by no means an easy listen. The depiction of the icy landscape with sporadic features of interest is at times captivating, as is picking out the occasional
oblique reference to the Vaughan Williams work. In this symphony, Max manages to make the
forbidding landscape seem inviting.
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