The centenary of a sacred scandal: Stravinsky, composer of a wild spring

 

In the beginning of 1913, Igor Stravinsky was having a good time. He was the most celebrated composer of Les Ballets Russes thanks to the success of his scores for L’oiseau de feu and Petrushka. But at the end of May of that same year, the world would discover his new work, Le sacre du printemps, and he would achieve greatness.

When Stravinsky introduced his new piece at the piano to a few of his friends and colleagues, many of them had a glimpse of its revolutionary essence. Marie Rambert, who helped Nijinsky with his choreography remembered: “When Stravinsky first came to one of our rehearsals, he stamped his feet on the floor and banged his fist on the piano and sang and shouted, all to give us an impression of the rhythms of the music and the color of the orchestra.” Pierre Monteux, conductor of Les Ballets Russes at that time, was arguably the first to acknowledge the work’s groundbreaking nature by saying: “This sounds like a scandal”.

The 20^th century in music began with orchestras acting as epic entities for a couple of composers who preceded the frantic pace of innovation, rebellion and shock many composers would later establish: Gustav Mahler and Richard Strauss. These two passed the torch, in prominence, to Arnold Schoenberg, an ambitious Austrian determined to vanish tonality.

Within this particular context, Stravinsky’s breakthrough stands out from the rest by the essence of his virtue. While Schoenberg focused on scripting a new chapter in the history of music in terms of tonality, Stravinsky went a different way: he turned back to look at the past (he gathered tunes from Russian folklore and Slavic songs), focused on the richness of rhythm (the time signature is changed very often) and practically reconfigured the sound of the orchestra through an astonishing disposition of dissonances, an innovative approach to instrumentation (notes are played on some of the instruments at the extremes of their registers, unprecedented special effects are generated by the musicians) and a bewildering sense of orchestration.

Up until Le sacre du printemps, the orchestra never sounded like Stravinsky devised it to. Being the first and warmest French admirer of the piece, Maurice Ravel was perhaps the first musician who was able to be aware of the grandeur of it. The French composer predicted that “its première would prove an event as great as Debussy’s Pelléas et Mélisande”.

Its première was great indeed. But as I have already mentioned on previous posts, Nijinsky’s choreography seemed to have fired the spark of scandal. Stravinsky’s score, though, gained a life of his own. It has been widely performed ever since as an orchestral piece -challenging conductors, musicians and audiences alike. It has also proven out to be one of the most influential pieces ever written.

Composers like Boulez, Messiaen, Copland, Bartok and Piazzolla have recognized Stravinsky’s influence in their careers. Stravinsky’s inspiration could also be taken conceptually: his work shows the heights the orchestra can be taken to. His impact lies in his dazzling originality.

It has taken me many years to start to grasp the greatness of a piece like Le sacre du printemps. Every time I listen to it, whether on a record or at a live performance, I discover something new. This endless source of amazement could be a feature of every masterpiece. And it could also be an ingredient of an obsession like mine, one that I’d be glad to keep for the rest of my life.

The centenary of a sacred scandal: Nijinsky, a genius dance maker

  

When people mention Le sacre du printemps’ scandalous premiere, they often just remark Stravinsky’s revolutionary score. However, according to many historians, the authentic cause of the extraordinary reaction to the work was prompted by Nijinsky’s equally groundbreaking choreography.

There are many facts that support this notion. First, the booing and the hissing propelled by the audience became so loud that the music could not be heard. Second, when the music was played the next year at a concert, the reaction was celebratory. And finally, Nicholas Roerich’s unprecedented costumes definitely added to the outrageous sense of innovation Les Ballet Russes were able to present. In result, all of these factors lead up to thinking that Nijinsky’s contribution cannot be underestimated.

Le sacre du printemps was a difficult score. Stravinsky himself struggled for decades to translate the musical ideas inside his head into a proper score. Everyone involved in the production was very aware of that from the beginning. And nobody was more conscious in that regard than Sergei Diaghilev. He was afraid the music was too complicated for Nijinsky to choreograph, so he looked for help. Diaghilev took the choreographer to Hellerau (Germany) to visit the Dalcroze Academy.

Diaghilev hoped to get some assistance from Émile Jaques-Dalcroze, the founder of the academy and creator of the Dalcroze Technique, but he refused. Instead, he recruited Marie Rambert, one of Dalcroze’s pupils, to help Nijinsky with his daunting task.

Rambert and Nijinsky got along very well. She also considered very intimidated the task of matching Stravinsky’s complicated score with dance. She was particularly astounded by the piece’s complex rhythmic changes. Nijinsky had decided to embark on his task with a primitive yet modern approach, and Rambert certainly respected it.

The physicality of the Dalcroze Technique was materialized in some of the outstanding poses and movements Nijinsky created for the ballet. Some of them even challenged the mere notion of what the human body was supposed to do in a natural way -the feet and the knees of the dancers, at moments, were turned-in, presumably to give the idea of an ancient ritual.

According to many dancers of Les Ballets Russes, Nijinsky wasn’t easy to work with. His otherworldly nature was perhaps a consequence of his fanatical devotion to art. Many consider Nijinsky to be the first to choreograph with such attention to detail, literally in a step-by-step way. The strange movements he had in mind for this ballet did not exactly help to establish a healthy collaboration with his dancers. The latter were dazed at the type of steps they had to perform. Le sacre du printemps was difficult even in the phases of its gestation.

The testimony of Maria Piltz is very useful to understand the level of difficulty present in Nijinsky’s choreography. Piltz danced the main role in the ballet -the Chosen Virgin. When she started to follow Nijinsky’s instructions she realized she had never danced like this before. In the end she managed to impress the audience with her performance, but Ramberg was rather disappointed. She felt Piltz had made a weak version of Nijinsky’s original instructions.

Nijinsky’s greatest achievement was to make, out of Stravinsky’s monumental piece of music, another masterpiece that consisted of a redefinition of the physical expression for the stage. The unparalleled poses he created and the proficient handling of the corps de ballet also made history. This choreography was only performed a few times by Les Ballets Russes and it was thought lost for decades. Fortunately, the dance experts Millicent Hodson and Kenneth Archer conducted a research for 16 years and reconstructed Nijinsky's original choreography. (The Joffrey Ballet performed it in 1987.)

Jacques Rivière wrote one of the best reviews of Le sacre du printemps, in terms of summing up succinctly Nijinsky’s historic accomplishment: “By breaking up movement, by returning to the simplicity of gesture, Nijinsky has restored expressiveness to dancing. All the angularities and awkwardness of this choreography keep the feeling in. The body is no longer an escape-route for the soul: on the contrary, it gathers itself together to contain the soul. Nijinsky makes the body itself speak. It only moves as a whole, as one block, and its speech is expressed in sudden bounds with open arms and legs, or in sideways runs with bent knees and with the head lying on one shoulder.

“The language of Nijinsky is infinitely detailed. This is a biological ballet. It is not only the dance of the most primitive of men, it is the dance before man. Stravinsky tells us that he wanted to portray the surge of spring. But this is not the usual spring sung by poets, with its breezes, its birdsong, its pale skies, and tender greens. Here is nothing but the harsh struggle of growth, the panic terror from the rising of the sap, the fearful regrouping of the cells. Spring seen from inside, with its violence, its spasms and its fissions. We seem to be watching a drama through a microscope.”

Nijinsky’s choreography received several negative reviews. Even when Stravinsky had once affirmed that he was “too ignorant musically to be fit to do choreography”, he came out in his defense by saying “Nijinsky is a remarkable artist, capable of giving new life to the whole art of ballet. Not for a second have we ceased to think along the same lines. You’ll see later what he will do. He is not only a marvelous dancer: he is capable of creation and innovation. He has played a vital part in the collaboration of Le sacre du printemps.”

Nijinsky’s marvelous contribution to the breakthrough of Le sacre du printemps is undeniable. For many decades, though, Stravinsky’s score took the lead in appreciation and prestige. However, true masterpieces sooner or later get the respect they deserve. It has taken many years for Nijinsky’s choreography to be properly understood and acknowledged. Now that history has finally done it, there’s really no turning back.

The centenary of a sacred scandal: Diaghilev, the designer of the scandal

 

Many scholars still argue whether the extraordinary reaction that took place at Le sacre du printemps’ premiere was mainly due to Nijinsky’s choreography or Stravinsky’s score. However, there is one certain fact: the scandal was designed. And the creative mind behind it was none other than Sergei Diaghilev’s.

Diaghilev had an acute sense of the dynamics of the cultural market. He knew very well how to dazzle Les Ballets Russes’ first audience: the high circles of Paris. He just had to put some pieces together to set forward a good amount of controversy. The day before its premiere, Diaghilev allowed a few distinguished members of his public and members of the press to see the final rehearsals of the ballet. Then, he encouraged these people to spread among their peers the shock they had felt–an early and wise practice of word-of-mouth. A solid rumor was born: what the people were about to experience the next day, at the Théâtre des Champs Elysées, would become a modernist tour de force.

May 29^th, 1913 would mark the most notorious premiere in the history of ballet. After hearing the first notes of the work played by the oboe, some members of the audience started to express their discontent, and some loud discussions –even fights- originated between the factions of the aristocracy and the Bohemia. The police had to enter to restore the order. Nonetheless, the show went on until its end, becoming an event that is widely considered as a landmark of modernism.

“All the elements of the scandal were present”, Jean Cocteau, who was present at the premiere, affirmed. For him, the clashing between those two groups of the public was inevitable, hinting that Diaghilev had orchestrated it. ‘The smart audience in tails and tulle, diamonds and ospreys, was interspersed with the suits and bandeaux of the aesthetic crowd. The latter would applaud novelty simply to show their contempt for the people in the boxes… Innumerable shades of snobbery, super-snobbery and inverted snobbery were represented… The audience played the role that it was written for it…”

According to Diaghilev and Nijinky’s biographer Richard Buckle, the structure of the Théâtre des Champs Elysées helped the juxtaposition of contrary social groups, hence fitting appropriately for the context of preconceived scandal that Diaghilev had set up for the premiere of Le sacre du printemps: “There were young people –artists, students and ‘fans’- who were prepared to align themselves with Diaghilev on his boldest charges into battle against the old guard. Counting on their support, he had given them free tickets –standing passes. It was the presence of these bloodthirsty enthusiasts in the middle of the elegant occupants of the boxes, which were partly responsible for the battle that took place in the theatre on May 29th.

“On the first night of Victor Hugo’s Hernani at the Comedie Francaise in 1830, of which we have his own description, and at the first performance of Wagner’s Tannhauser at the old Opera in the rue Le Peletier in 1861, the young aesthetes who supported their rising heroes against the academic reactionaries had been isolated in the upper section of the house. The Théâtre des Champs Elysées was constructed in a novel way. Between the logs avec salon and the fauteuils and loges de corbeille there was an ambulatory, and it was here that Diaghilev’s favorite young friends of the avant-garde were standing to applaud and defend Stravinsky and Nijinsky.”

Stravinsky also remarked the fulfillment Diaghilev must have felt with the controversy: “He certainly looked contented. No one could have been quicker to understand the publicity value and he immediately understood the good thing that had happened in that respect. Quite probably he had already thought about the possibility of such a scandal when I first played him the score, months before, in the east corner ground room of the Grand Hotel in Venice.”

I don’t think there’s a better quote to sum up Diaghilev’s satisfaction than Cocteau’s. According to the French writer, when all of the members of the creative team that crafted this masterpiece gathered to celebrate, Diaghilev shouted ecstatically: “Exactly what I wanted!”

The centenary of a sacred scandal: Introduction

 

Le sacre du printemps is not only a work of art that has fascinated me for the last couple of years, it has also changed my life. This was the first piece written by Igor Stravinsky that I listened to -propelling an obsession to know of his music and his life. This masterpiece also originated in me an academic interest in ballet.

After studying Stravinsky and his oeuvre, I felt a strong curiosity to know more about the legendary choreographer George Balanchine, his most important creative partner, and with whom the composer would create some of the most influential ballets of all time. Inevitably, after reading about Stravinsky and Balanchine’s magnificent alliance, I started to get interested in the company that made it all happen: Les Ballets Russes.

Les Ballets Russes is the most important ballet company of the first half of the twentieth century. Directed by the cosmopolitan, aesthete and astute impresario Sergei Diaghilev, the company produced amazing works for the stage, combining some of the greatest artistic talents of the era and changing the meaning of dance ever since.

The creative and collective ethos of Les Ballets Russes made possible the creation of legendary works of art like Le sacre du printemps. Composed by Stravinsky and choreographed by wunderkind Vaslav Nijisnky, the production was premiered on May 29, 1913 at the Theatre des Champs Elysées, and this event remains, to this day, the most notorious balletic scandal.

This historic joint venture crafted by a couple of geniuses offers one of the most interesting and exciting objects of study among the history of the performing arts. To celebrate this centenary, I have decided to dedicate the entire month of May of my blog to this landmark event. I will write articles based on the perspective of its creators: Diaghilev, Nijinsky and Stravinsky.

The original choreography was thought lost for a long time until a group of researchers brought it back to life. That version has been staged recently and can be seen on DVD. However, I believe the best way to experience this work is by listening to its magnificent score. That is why I will also write another article in which I will discuss the best recordings of Stravinsky’s piece.

I invite you all to join me in the celebration of a masterpiece that has become an important part of my life, a celebration that will turn, throughout this month, into a heartfelt tribute.

Matmos: creating music out of the mental language

 

Within the landscape of contemporary electronic music, Matmos is an ensemble that has managed to stand out through mere innovation. The release of each one of their records responds to a programmatic conception. For The marriage of true minds (2013), they made parapsychological experiments on several test subjects. They basically tried to transfer what they aimed with this record to those subjects, and then, they collected what those subjects thought they received. I know, it sounds delusional to a certain degree. But the materialization of the project is rather interesting. The marriage of true minds may seem to have an abstract profile, but its solid tracks also holds some sort of narrative. Matmos continues to inject excitement into the electronic music scene, which is something that I, as fan of the genre, feel obliged to celebrate.

This is a live performance of Very large green triangles

The beautiful, quiet and sophisticated revolution of Maurice Ravel

I love the music of Maurice Ravel. And when you love something, I guess you try to spread your passion to others, in some way or another. In this case, that way is a conscious one: I have decided, through this post, to introduce you to the magnificent oeuvre of Ravel.

Maurice Ravel, like the rest of the so-called “realists”, Bartók and Janáček, didn’t have urban origins -he was born in a small town called Ciboure. This location, placed in the French Basque country, determined Ravel’s unique musical discourse: a stylized, sophisticated amalgam of Hispanic and Gallic sonorities.

According to Alex Ross, Ravel’s first piano works “carried out a kind of velvet revolution, renewing the language of music without disturbing the peace”. Ravel was, then, a particular revolutionary –a quiet one. This single feature, in my opinion, acts a curse in disguise for his legacy. I strongly believe Ravel’s music has been unjustly underestimated. Although many remarkable composers cite him as an influence (Stravinsky, Messiaen, Copland, Piazzolla), with the exception of his Boléro, his music isn’t that frequently played in the orchestral circuit.

Nonetheless, that condition responds to his own nature. Ravel was known to be quite charming when in contact with others, but he also was a shy and lonely individual. His humble character didn’t allow him to have great ambitions for his music. Besides, he wasn’t particularly prolific. Notwithstanding, that same austerity injected such appealing glamour to his music.

Scholars and historians have often considered Ravel as the most pure French composer, a statement that stands on the French quality of his music, one that certainly inherits the three features of French culture: an elegant overall tone, plenty of graceful moments, and the superb clarity of his masterful orchestration (Leonard Bernstein once hailed Boléro as “the bible of orchestration”. And if you need to further prove Ravel's proficiency in outlining the orchestra's vocabulary, listen to Mussorgsky's Pictures at an exhibition, orchestrated by him.)

That splendid tone consists of his handling of texture, an extraordinary disposition of timbres that says a lot about his domain at the manipulation of the orchestra’s expressive resources. Throughout his catalog, a fine approach to harmony (indebted to Debussy), an ingenious treatment of texture (often attributed to Mussorgsky and Rimsky-Korsakov) and an acute sense to craft ingenious rhythmic structures (influenced by Stravinsky) is what make Ravel one of the freshest composers of the twentieth century.

There are several perks for getting close to Ravel’s music. First of all, his works, in contrast to many of his contemporaries’, aren’t particularly demanding. And second, his pieces are generally short and, above all, recipients of a high-level beauty.

Listen, for example, to little gems like Jeux d’eau, (played by the delicate and fine fingers of Martha Argerich); the elegiac Pavane for une infant défunte; the satiric La valse; glorious chamber works like the Piano trio; flamboyant suites like Le tombeau de Couperin; and, in case you have more time in your hands, his larger works like the ballet Ma mère l’Oye or his short opera L’enfant et les sortileges.

I really hope you get to delve into Ravel’s stylish constellation of notes. You will not be disappointed, rest assured; au contraire, I would even dare to affirm that you will end up like me: an obsessive fan of his music, making a compelling case to drag others into his marvelous musical world.

Jamie Lidell: welcome back to your comfort zone

 

Jamie Lidell is a musician with a restless curiosity. He enjoys immersing in different genres, seemingly evading a natural sense of failure. He first became known for his ingenious integration of soul with electronic music. But his appetite exceeded that first venture. However, his explorations of other genres, like indie-rock for example, haven’t been that successful in my opinion. Luckily, with his latest album, Jamie Lidell (2013), he’s back to that sound I first enjoyed so much. His approach remains imaginative and fresh, reminiscent to old-school paraphernalia present in 70’s Parliament and early 80’s Prince: this is digital funk for a digital era. Jamie Lidell remains adventurous, only this time his experiment has proven out to be a delightful one.

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