Panorama de Leeuw XII plaatst Aktie Notenkraker in context van zijn tijd

Hoe nuttig en noodzakelijk was de beruchte Aktie Notenkraker op 17 november 1969? Die vraag beantwoordde ik gisteren op de Concertzender in de twaalfde aflevering van Panorama de Leeuw, een kroniek van de hedendaagse muziek in Nederland aan de hand van mijn biografie Reinbert de Leeuw, mens of melodie. Net als in mijn boek plaats ik in de radio-uitzendingen het leven van De Leeuw en diens kompanen in de context van zijn tijd.

Zo belichtte ik in aflevering XI uitvoerig het studentenoproer in Tilburg in oktober 1969, dat succesvoller was dan de hierop geïnspireerde Aktie Notenkraker. Dankzij de opstand in Tilburg ging het Brabants Orkest vaker muziek van levende componisten uitvoeren. Dat geldt niet voor het Concertgebouworkest, waarop ‘de Notenkrakers’ het op 17 november 1969 gemunt hadden. Hierna presenteerde het orkest namelijk eerder minder dan meer moderne noten.

Minder vreemd dan het lijkt, want van oudsher had het Amsterdamse orkest veel aandacht besteed aan avant-gardisten, wier muziek hierna echter steeds vaker door gespecialiseerde ensembles werd uitgevoerd. De Aktie Notenkraker was des te opmerkelijker aangezien het orkest daarvoor al geregeld muziek van Reinberts kompanen Louis Andriessen, Peter Schat en Jan van Vlijmen op de lessenaars had gezet. Sterker nog, op de dag van het protest gaf Andriessen een opdracht voor een blokfluitconcert terug. Hoewel de Aktie Notenkraker in wezen nut noch noodzaak had, ging deze de muzikale annalen in als baanbrekend.

Het toeval wil dat ik op 1 oktober in het Muziekgebouw aan ‘t IJ de eerste les verzorgde van mijn nieuwe cursus hedendaagse muziek, bij een concert van het Asko|Schönberg o.l.v. Reinbert de Leeuw. Thema van de les was ‘De Russen’, want Reinbert dirigeerde onder anderen twee stukken van Sofia Goebaidoelina en Galina Oestvolskaja. Deze powerladies hebben ook veel betekend voor mijn carrière. Ik schreef erover voor Cultuurpers.

Ook de rest van de maand was ik druk met nieuwe muziek. Zo interviewde ik Giya Kantsjeli op 18 september over zijn stuk Dixi, tijdens de inleiding op een concert van het Radio Filharmonisch Orkest en het Groot Omroepkoor in het AVROTROSVrijdagconcert. Ik maakte voor de live uitzending op Radio 4 ook een reportage van een repetitie van dit grootse werk.

Een week later speelde het collectief Ludwig een concert in deze radioserie onder de titel ‘Met psalmenpomp en hakkebord’, waarover ik ook een voorbeschouwing schreef. Voor Radio 4 sprak ik met Dirk Luijmes over het harmonium (psalmenpomp”) en met Jan Rokyta over de cimbalom (‘hakkebord’). Luijmes soleerde in het First Harmonium Concerto van Martijn Padding; Rokyta schitterde in het stuk da capo van Peter Eötvös en het Cimbalom Concerto van Florian Maier.

Afgelopen vrijdag 2 oktober was ik de hele dag in touw voor een portret van de Oekraïense componist Valentin Silvestrov, wiens Zevende Symfonie die avond zijn Nederlandse première beleefde in het AVROTROSVrijdagconcert. Een bijzondere ervaring, want de 77-jarige componist verlaat zelden zijn flatje in Kiev en spreekt alleen Russisch. Gelukkig vond ik een begenadigde tolk in jonge, de eveneens Oekraïense componist Maxim Shalygin, die tegenwoordig in Den Haag woont.

Silvestrov bleek een ongelooflijke spraakwaterval en het monteren van al die verschillende talen (Russisch – Engels – Nederlands) was een hels karwei, maar het is me gelukt; ik kreeg veel complimenten voor mijn portret.

Het concert was een groot succes, met een minutenlange ovatie voor een dankbare Silvestrov, die te bescheiden was om het podium te beklimmen en het applaus vanuit de zaal ontving. Bijzonder was dat ook Giya Kantsjeli naar TivoliVredenburg gekomen was; hij is een goede vriend van Silvestrov.

Een stuk jonger is de Grieks-Nederlandse componist Calliope Tsoupaki, over wier nieuwe opera Mariken in de tuin der lusten ik al in mijn vorige twee updates berichtte. Ik schreef voor het muziekblad Luister een interview met haar en publiceerde gisteren nog eens vier vragen die ik haar stelde.

#Corona-classics 2: Maxim Shalygin: growling & screeching saxophones on CD ‘Todos los fuegos el fuego’

A rainy day in #corona quarantine seems the ideal moment to listen to a CD about fire. So I slide Todos los fuegos el fuego by the Ukrainian-Dutch composer Maxim Shalygin into my laptop.

‘All fires the fire’ is named after the collection of eight short stories by Julio Cortázar. The CD also  contains eight pieces, which together form a suite for the exceptional line-up of saxophone octet.

Maxim Shalygin composed it in 2019 for the Amstel Quartet and the Keuris Quartet, who also recorded it.

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Shalygin (Kamianske 1985) studied composition at the conservatories of St. Petersburg, Kiev and The Hague. Since 2011 he has lived in the Netherlands, and four years later I met him personally. He helped me out when I went to interview his compatriot Valentin Silvestrov for Radio 4 and learnt that the reclusive composer only speaks Russian. Shalygin gratefully seized the opportunity to meet his idol. We had a very animated conversation, in which Silvestrov’s loquaciousness was matched by Shalygin’s enthusiastic interpretation.

Exploring boundaries

As a matter of course I hereafter immersed myself in Shalygin’s own music. This is characterized by a great intensity and a zest for exploring boundaries. He challenges musicians to conjure sounds from their instruments that they never suspected existed. Shalygin’s work often has a spiritual slant, making him a kindred spirit of Silvestrov.

In 2017, during the Gaudeamus Music Week, I was captivated by his Lacrimosa, composed for seven violins. A year later he composed the impressive cycle Canti d’inizio e fine for the intrepid cellist Maya Fridman. In this cycle he not only asks her to fiercely flog her instrument, but to simultaneously sing.

Todos los fuegos el fuego also presents a wide range of playing techniques. Thus Shalygin tries to create a musical equivalent of the storytelling techniques with which Cortázar shapes his magical-realistic world. The Argentine author himself described his prose as incantatoria, that has the double meaning of ‘enchantment’ (in the sense of a magic spell) and ‘chant’ (as in song, singing). This concept refers both to the hypnotic atmosphere in Cortázar’s work, and to the care he dedicated to constructing his sentences. His syntax arose partly intuitively, from delays and accelerations that express the underlying emotion or atmosphere rather than the message itself.

Shifting layers

This is exactly how Shalygin goes about in Todos los fuegos el fuego. All eight pieces consist of different layers that slide over, under and through each other in ever changing formations and tempi. The pace is usually low, with elongated lines meandering through the space without any recognisable metre – there is no such thing as thumping along with the beat. Nor loudly singing along for that matter. Shalygin does not write Ohrwurms, but concentrates on contrasts between slow movements in one register versus faster motifs in the other. Like a shaman he draws attention to the sound itself and invites us to listen to our inner self.

International Combustion Engine opens with sustained tones that are slowly layered on top of each other, cautiously ornamented with languid trills. A melody built from small steps in the upper voices is interspersed with fierce growls in the lower registers. Death of a Mosasaur has a more narrative nature. A wistful motif of one step up, one step down followed by a jump up wanders desolately through the various registers. Gradually an unwieldy pulse develops, as if a waddling Mosasaur is approaching. A soprano sax blasts out piercing, staccato cries like morse-signs. This apparent cry for help is smothered in low roars and ends in abrupt silence.

Incantation

The other movements also abound in overlapping and repetitive patterns, sudden interruptions, decelerations and accelerations. Tones mysteriously swell up out of nowhere, are played with audible breath or with tongue-slaps that create ear-splitting attacks. At other times, the saxophonists make their lips vibrate while playing, like a softly snorting horse. Spring, Breaking creates an intoxicating atmosphere with subtly pulsating sounds, Endless Mordent is a study in eruptive grace notes.

In Ashes in Birth screeching and rhythmically teeming lines gradually advance towards rattling valves that die away into nothingness. But the most beautiful movement is Stairway to Decay, a melancholic lament that is roughly disturbed by ‘out of tune’ sounds, as if decay sets in. The texture gradually becomes more dissonant, while from afar a mumbled prayer develops, like an incantation. When the saxophonists start articulating more clearly, we finally discern the text: ‘Todos los fuegos el fuego’. – Mesmerizing and haunting.

The eight saxophonists effortlessly master the extended techniques in Shalygin’s score. Moreover they are completely attuned to each other: breathing and playing as one living entity they sound like a majestic organ.

– Thanks to Todos los fuegos el fuego the drizzly day was over before I knew it.

#AmstelQuartet #corona #JulioCortázar #KeurisQuartet #MaximShalygin #MayaFridman #TodosLosFuegosElFuego #ValentinSilvestrov

Italian pianist strikes Ukrainian stillness at heart

An Italian label promoting piano music of a Ukrainian composer, it does not seem the most likely combination. Yet earlier this year, the CD Handsome Skies featuring piano works by Valentin Silvestrov (1937) arrived on my doorstep, sent from Rome by the independent label KHA Records. According to the contact person, who only introduced himself as ‘Massimiliano’, it specialises in ‘minimal music from John Cage to Arvo Pärt’.

The closest affinity is that with Pärt, of course, who became a public favourite in the mid-seventies with his so-called ‘neo-spiritual music’. Like his Estonian colleague, Silvestrov at first composed in a strict modernist idiom that brought him into conflict with the Soviet authorities, and subsequently changed over to a less complex style. His cycle Silent Songs (1977) marked the beginning of a style in which tonal, ear-catching pieces predominate, often described as ‘new simplicity’. 

Valentin himself prefers to speak of ‘meta-music’ or ‘metaphorical music’, because to him, the entire music history resonates in all new compositions: ‘I do not write new music. My music is a reaction to and an echo of what already exists’.

MELODY

His work is strongly focused on melody, which in Silvestrov’s view forms the basis of everything, but was direly neglected in the course of the 20th century: ‘All music is song, whether it is sung or purely instrumental.’

The twenty pieces on the CD Handsome Skies by Italian pianist Alessandro Stella are the perfect illustration of this conviction. Whether Bagatelles, Waltzes or simply Pieces, the melodic wealth is overwhelming: they all sing from beginning to end.

Silvestrov builds his melodies with tonal and modal means, which makes them recognisable and singable. Yet his flowing lines continue to surprise, in an organic way. They never become predictable or kitschy, like the music of the Italian composer Ludovico Einaudi. The motifs and melodies are given ample space and sometimes breathe the atmosphere of Satie. Such associations are blown away however by the occasional fragment of folk music or jarring rhythm.

With his poetic interpretation, velvety toucher and refined use of the sustain pedal, Alessandro Stella creates a serene peace, as if we are hearing dreamy echoes of eternity. As an Italian, he manages to touch the heart of this timeless Ukrainian stillness.

Valentin Silvestrov: Handsome Skies
Alessandro Stella, piano
KHA Records KHA019

In my programme An ox on the Roof 6 March 2022 on Concertzender I will play music by Silvestrov and other Ukrainian composers.

#AlessandroStella #ArvoPärt #HandsomeSkies #ValentinSilvestrov