The French connection II

Emmanuel Chabrier (1841-1894) was a fervent admirer of Wagner ( as his vast music-dramas appeared, music lovers as well as composers argued about his work, as years later they were due to do over the new 12 note system propagated by Schoenberg, Berg and others). One of Chabrier’s works was actually called ‘Wagnerian Gwendoline’! Chabrier was a conductor and composer who mostly earned his living as a civil servant. His colourful and beautifully orchestrated music is said to have influenced Ravel. He visited Spain between 1882 and 1883 and, fascinated by the many Spanish rhythms and songs he heard, incorporated some of them in his most popular and still frequently played work. Appropriately he called the orchestral rhapsody, ‘Espana’!

Ravel and Debussy are sometimes linked together, but their music sounds and feels very different. Ravel’s compositions, though impressionistic in style, are more classically based; some might say even clinically so. There is a bright sheen and wonderful rhythmical shape to his music (he has long been a favourite of mine), and yet to my ears there is a shy beauty that cannot be hidden from the more obvious sensuousness of much of his work. He published his Rhapsodie espagnole in 1918, five years after Turina finished studying with Lalo. I don’t know where Ravel’s inspiration for this work came from, but the fact that he was born in the French part of the Basque country may have made the artistic link between the two countries who share a boarder, even stronger.

I’ve been reflecting on the inter-relation of Spanish and French classical music. There is an opulent sophistication about those Franco Spanish compositions.
They seem to be blissfully unaware of any problems that might be associated with the style they have borrowed. Were the Parisians of the nineteenth and early twentieth century just very good at imitation and innovation, whereas their more tentative neighbours were still finding out how to trust their inheritance and move on from it? Perhaps not. Anyway, they composed some wonderful ‘Iberian’ music. But with Turina, Albeniz, Granados, de Falla, and Rodrigo; well, you get the real thing!

B.R.

The French Connection

Several times in these postings we have come across Spanish composers studying in Paris and being influenced by French composers of their time. It was true of Albeniz, and Chausson, was his teacher and friend. Rodrigo was a pupil of Dukas, and Turina studied under d’Indy and was friends with Debussy(1862-1918) and Ravel(1875-1937). But this was by no means a one-way traffic. The distinctive rhythms and shape of Spanish music influenced the French composers we have already mentioned, with the exception of d’Indy, although his vivid orchestral works are marked by a vein of folk-like melody to which Turina’s interest in Andalusian indigenous music perhaps contributed. De Saraste, however, clearly inspired some of the music of Lalo (1823-1892) - notably the Symphonie Espagnole for violin and orchestra ( it was written for the violinist) – but then that shouldn’t have been surprising, for Lalo was of Spanish descent

In the nineteenth and early twentieth century the artistic life of Paris became mid-wife to composers from many countries. Debussy was intrigued for a time by the music of Wagner and for one summer he was pianist to Tchaikovsky’s patron Mme von Meck. He knew Liszt and Verdi and was influenced by Javanese gamelan but eventually called himself ‘musicien francais’. I have a recording of all of his piano music and there I find strong connections with the Spanish music of his period, especially in Albeniz’s ‘Iberia’, which he called ‘impressions’, in fact a favourite word too of Debussy’s . He has a composition of the same name, and his ‘Soirees dans Granada’ is clearly Spanish influenced.

Georges Bizet wrote several operatic works –some of which were never finished He was a frustrated composer and even his most famous opera, 'Carmen', had a bad reception when first produced and only gained international favour after his death. Carmen of course is set in Spain and is as evocative of that country as one could wish, employing many its typical dance-rhythms. Incidentally he believed that he had based the famous ‘Habanera’ on a Spanish folk song. In fact it had been written by Sebastian Iradier(1809-1865), who was a composer and professor of singing at Madrid Conservatory.

B.R.

Musical nationalism III

There is no direct English comparison with the Spanish musical renaissance, with its clear focus on a sense of nationalistic purpose and identity : no equivalence to the work of Sarraste, Albeniz, and de Falla and ,earlier, Felipe Pedrell (1841-1922) whose edition of sixteenth century music sparked a nationalistic revival. But there is still a discernable ‘Englishness’, more of mood than content. Unkindly characterised by the composer Elizabeth Lutyens (1906-1983) who wrote many works on the 12 note system, as the 'cow-pat' composers, such people as Gerald Finzi (1901-1956), Herbert Howells(1892-1983) and George Butterworth (1885-1916),sadly killed at the Battle of Somme, have given us some wonderful reflective music : pastoral indeed, but not a cow in sight!

These are called, patronisingly, ‘minor’ composers, but I love some of their work, notably Finzi’s Cello and Clarinet concertos and Herbert Howells’ ‘Hymnus Paradisi’, and his beautiful motet ‘Take him, earth for cherishing’, commemorating the death of President Kennedy. For me this is the music of an England I recognize – unassuming, often quiet and gentle but full of character – belonging more to a real celebration of Englishness than the crazy ‘’Last Night of the Proms’, that splurge of jingoistic triumphalism which is bearable once a year, but has little to say about the heart of any national music we may possess.

The compositions I have mentioned are comparable to Spanish music in their lyricism and immediate appeal, but also because they seems to spring out of the earth. Such composers may not be strong in personality – William Walton, Peter Maxwell Davies, Malcolm Arnold, Britten and Michael Tippett provide that in abundance. But I hear the morning birdsong and feel the warmth of the setting sun and can smell the aroma of freshly cut hay in the music of these, who are amongst my favorite composers. So, perhaps if Spanish music of the last hundred years is about a people, much English music of the same period is more about place.
B.R.

Musical nationalism II

The English composer Ralph Vaughan Williams (1872-1958) once said ‘the composer must not shut himself up and think about art; he must live with his fellows and make his art an expression of the whole life of the community’. Vaughan Williams was part of a movement which was determined to capture the folk music of England before it was lost. Cecil Sharp is the name to take note of here. He feared that traditional songs and dances would die out if something wasn't done before it was too late. So he and a number of Victorian collectors went out song- hunting in the countryside to save the musical heritage.

In some cases they even carried wind-up acoustic cylinder recorders with them (the very latest at that time), whilst others wrote down the musical notation. Unfortunately some of the songs were only partially remembered by the singers, whilst others turned out to be music hall rather than folk songs. The result, however was valuable: the songs revealing much about the life and attitudes of their day. Sharp founded the English Folk Song & Dance Society and donated his London house as its headquarters and a home for the Cecil Sharp Memorial Library - a large archive he and others had collected. The house is host to folk dancing enthusiasts, one such, many years ago persuading me to join her on a festive evening – an experience I there and then decided never to repeat!

What has been called Elgar’s ‘Englishness’ is explicit in the music of Vaughan Williams but also the compositions of his friend Gustav Holst (1874-1934) , the two friends united in their appreciation of folk music. Although Holst is best known through his suite ‘The Planets’, his originality as a composer owes some of its inspiration to the movement for the preservation of indigenous music. The mercurial Percy Grainger(1882-1961) – he belongs to no known category, gathering ideas and inspiration from many countries – was another collector. Benjamin Britten (1913-1976) arranged many folk songs and there are several recordings of these still available, Britten playing his Schubertian piano accompaniment and the songs sung by his partner, Peter Pears.

B.R….more next time

Musical nationalism

Donald Grout and Claude Palissca in their ‘History of Western Music’ (Norton 1996) have some interesting reflections on musical nationalism, and there is some material on the same theme in Grove. How a people represent, honour and celebrate their life in music is part of the history of a country. In the nineteenth and on into the twentieth century, folk songs, native rhythms and heroic myths inspired European music, but in some cases gave expression to a political struggle for independence and freedom as well. That is true of Finland, where the music of Sibelius spoke of and for the heart of a nation, which so often in the past has been a vassal to another country. Sadly, Wagner was used by the Nazi’s to propagate the nonsense of white racial purity.

There had been something of the same deliberate commitment – though without the political dimension - in Russia. Mikhail Glinka (1804-1857) is regarded as the founder of a specific national school of music. We have an interesting connection here with the basic interest of these postings, for during his European travels where he met Berlioz in Paris, Glinka moved on to Spain and became fascinated by the country’s folk-dance rhythms. In turn he influenced the group that became known as The Mighty Five – Borodin (1833-87), Mussorgsky(1839-81), Balakirev (1837-1910), Cui (91835-1918) and Rimsky-Korsakov (1844-1908), all of whom in varying degrees pursued a conscious nationalistic path in the subject as well as the style of their work. And Tchaikovsky (1840-93)? Well, he was enthused by the Five, but never became one of them. By their standards he was considered cosmopolitan rather than truly Russian!

All the time I have been researching Spanish music I have had at the back of my mind the English tradition with which I am more familiar. Edward Elgar (1857-1934) was the first British composer in more than 200 years to gain international recognition. Although he was not touched by the growing interest in folk song, his ‘Englishness’, Grout and Palissca suggest, is implicit in his typical melodic line (wide leaps and a falling trend) which mirror the intonations of English speech. It could be so. Although his music has sometimes been compared to Brahms and Bruckner, the Enigma Variations, the Symphonies and the Pomp and Circumstance marches (which he came to loathe) could have come from nowhere else but Edwardian England.

B.R.…more next time.

Spanish music and dance

This is the 33rd. posting on our blog, and yet we have managed to get this far with barely a passing reference to Flamenco, which for non-Spanish people is as Spanish as you can get. In the English city in which I now live, there is a restaurant called ‘La Flamanca’, where they advertise ‘paella and tapas on Saturdays together with ‘Flamenco guitar and a popular dancer’! It’s this combination of music, dance and song (sometimes food as well) that makes flamenco so distinctive and, indeed, as the restaurant claims, popular. Once - and still - the possession of Spanish people, flamenco has become an international art and entertainment.

The essence of flamenco is that it tells a story, and one that is often passionate, earthy, violent, plaintive and usually about love. Flamenco schools came into being in the late 1700’s and early 1800’s and originated in the areas of Cadiz, Jerez de la Frontera and Triana, near Seville in the region of Andalucia. Its roots are presumed to be in Gypsy and Moorish culture. Flamenco began to be heard in regional coffee houses and taverns and entered its golden age of popularity in the late 1800’s.

There is Flamenco ‘Baille’ (dance), ‘Cante’ (song) and ‘Toque’ (guitar). But the accompaniment is not only musical, there is also the vibrant sound of clapping hands and stamping feet. Flamenco is full of intrigue with beautiful costumes, gritty voices, provocative posturing, and intense sidelong glances that can convey more meaning than any of the words that may be sung. From the stages of great theatres to the smallest bar on the Costa Blanca, long may it survive.

B.R.

Zarzuela II

The N.G.D.M devotes over eleven columns to this distinctive Spanish musical form, and a couple of postings on these blogs can do scant justice to it. There are many web-sites which give more detail than I can provide. The genre suffered from the Civil War and despite the new life given to zarzuelas by such composers as de Falla, Albeniz and Granados, it lapsed. People began to feel that this popular art was no longer viable. But revival was at hand, and we largely have one person to thank for this.

Ataulfo Argenta is a name familiar to me. He was conducting and recording in the U.K. in the fifties and some of his discs are still available on specialist web-sites. Carl Schuricht (who conducted one of the first performances of Mahler’s massive eighth symphony and was a much respected conductor in the first half of the twentieth century) was one of his teachers, and became a great friend. Sadly Argenta died at a comparatively early age, but not before he began to research many of the finest zarzuelas and as a consequence almost a hundred of them are now on disc. The Teatro de la Zarzuela was refurbished in 1956 and is now the one subsidised house in Spain which regularly includes zarzuelas in its repertory.

How much zarzuelas are in the blood of Spanish culture I am not equipped to judge, but it feels that this popular art form – perhaps because of its directness of subject and its musical simplicity- belongs to the people in the way that in some countries folk music still does.

..music of the people? – clearly it is time to look at the Flamenco. Next time!

B.R.

Spanish music: Zarzuela

Few things can be more authentically Spanish than this traditional musical theatre, with its mixture of song and dialogue – the word comes from zarza, meaning a mixture intertwined in itself. Originating in musical plays designed to entertain the King and his guests in the late 1650’s, performances took place in the Palacia Real de la Zarzuela, a hunting lodge in the wooded outskirts of Madrid.

In the eighteenth century the zarzuela was transformed from a court entertainment into a genre beloved of the generality of the people, where it has remained through various developments to the present day. However as the interests of the court moved to favour Italian influenced music, the basic pastoral and rural themes of the zarzuela fell into decline and this form of folk operetta was virtually forgotten in the early 1800’s.

Its revival some fifty years later is associated with Rafael Hernando whose two act zarzuela, Colegiales y Soldados, was a great success and is regarded as inaugurating a new beginning for this distinctive type of musical. In 1851 the Sociedad Artistica was formed and hired the Teatro de Circo for a season of zarzuelas, now Italian in style but with the outward form of the French opera comique. Many composers – even those originally scornful of the genre –produced a stream of compositions. A type of zarzuela, usually in one act only, called the genero chico became widely popular with stories often set in the working class districts of Madrid. No fewer than eleven theatres in Madrid were eventually devoted to this art form and more than 150 examples were produced, and Barcelona too became a popular centre for performances.

B.R.

…to be concluded next time

Spanish violinist and composer Pablo de Sarasate

The missing link. I should have included some reference to Pablo de Sarasate before now, for he was as representative of Spanish music in his age as anyone else in their’s. He was born in the well known city of Pamplona in 1844. At the time of the wild ritual of frantic bulls running riot in the streets, another fiesta is held in the music conservatory in honour of its most famous son.

Pablo began studying the violin when he was only five years old, taught by his father who was an artillery bandmaster. His first concert was at La Coruna three years later. Following a period of study in Madrid his mother decided to take him to Paris but tragically just after they had crossed the French boarder, she had a heart attack and died. The Spanish Consul in Bayonne befriended Pablo and financed his eventual journey to Paris where he became a student at the Conversatoire and his exceptional gifts became evident.

His performances of opera fantasies and other works he composed – often with a Spanish flavour – became famous and it was largely through his influence that such French composers of that day as Lalo, Bizet and Saint-Saens wrote music with the colour and rhythms of his native land.

No easy critic, George Bernard Shaw was enthusiastic about Sarasate as composer and performer and said he ‘left criticism gasping miles behind him’. Sarasate’s four volumes of Spanish dances for violin and piano are still played today. Described as a true Spanish gentleman, he had many female admirers, none of whom were able to persuade him to get married, though it was said that he always kept a supply of Spanish fans to present to lady admirers after concerts. He died a wealthy man, leaving most of his fortune to the city of his birth, where there is now a museum devoted to his memory.

B.R.

The Spanish guitar

I live in a World Heritage City in the U.K. It may be because of its constant stream of visitors and the perceived need to give them reasons for coming, that the city is continually holding festivals of one sort or another. The International Music Festival is the most prestigious but there is also a Bach Festival, a Mozart Festival, a Food Festival and just now as I write, an International Guitar festival. Amongst the performers is the brilliant English acoustic jazz guitarist, Martin Taylor, who I have heard in concert.

Spain invented the guitar, so much so that the terms ‘classical’ and ‘Spanish’ guitar have become interchangeable. The earliest instruments can be traced back to the 14th. century, and are one of a large family of ‘cordofonos’, producing sound from the plucking of strings by fingers or prongs. The early guitar with three double pairs of strings and a single (high) string were the alternative amongst the middle and lower classes to the aristocracy’s ‘vihuela ‘, often played with a bow or quill. In the mid 18th century a sixth string was added and the double strings made single and then in the 19th century the old wooden pegs were exchanged for a machine head and later still the strings were changed to nylon rather then gut.

It was Fernando Sor (17718-1839) who set the guitar on its course of moving to a position of musical prominence. He was a musician and composer of a great deal of music, much of it for one or two guitars. It was after leaving Paris after a brief stay there and settling in London, that he wrote his massive Variations on a theme of Mozart, which became a standard work for the instrument. It was left to others and notably Segovia (who edited much of his work) to build on his foundation and then as we have seen, other composers of the 20th. century to vastly extend the instrument’s repertoire and reputation.

B.R.