Clouds above California, Photo by Maja Trochimczyk
Everything's different and everything's the same, in an endless dance of time. I found my old CD of Johann Sebastian Bach's Kunst der Fuge, and enjoy driving around town listening to "always different always the same" masterly constructions in sound - the famous theme coming in time after time again, higher and lower, straight and inverted, slowed down or breezing by. What an amazing feat of the human mind and imagination. Each section is recorded in a different orchestrations - strings, winds, organ, harpsichord... bring their unique qualities to the music.
But as I listen and engross myself in the interlocking pattern of heavenly polyphony, I begin to think that something's missing, there is no unpredictability, no improvisation, no ornaments, no pause in this musical clockwork Universe of perfect order. So I remember Chopin's love of improvisation and his habit of rewriting pieces when sent to publishers in different countries. This gives modern editors, used to the idea of one definitive text, a huge headache, because these versions or variations are all equally valid and cannot be brought to one common denominator of a single "artwork" that is fixed forever in its repetitive patterns. An informative summary with multiple examples of the "Minute Waltz" in different editions is found on the website Music Universe in Hong Kong:
A comparison of different editions of many Chopin's works is possible on the website of the Chopin Institute in Warsaw: chopin.nifc.pl, for instance Nocturne in G minor, Op. 15, No. 3, associated with the gloominess of Hamlet by many commentators:
Played by Artur Rubinstein: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pTfeTJME7-I
or the Nocturne Op. 27 No. 2 in D-flat Major, one of the most beloved of Chopin's compositions:
Played by Artur Rubinstein: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WJ8RVjm49hE
Instead of one definitive edition, both Nocturnes have three "first editions" listed - by M. Schlesinger, (France), Breitkopf-& Hartel (Germany), and Wessel & Co. (United Kingdom). There are two manuscripts and three scores for each.
If there had been more "first" editions of these works in Chopin's lifetime, these too would have been different. Just as time flows in one direction, and you cannot enter the same river twice, so is with music - every time Chopin played, he made small changes, introduced new melodic variants, ornaments, chords... Why then, are we so fixated on finding and fixing just one definitive "work of music" that is described in notation to its minute details and changes so little from one performance to the next?
Just like Chopin kept improvising when playing his Impromptu or Nocturnes, so do birds in their song - especially the master singers of great creativity, the European nightingale and blackbird, and the American mockingbird. I love spending mornings in the garden in the spring, when the mockingbirds mark their territory with song. The melodies become artful with variational repetition of short phrases, but their repertory is endless and the joy they bring is endless too. There is nothing more perfect than life-well-lived, and you can live well when you cherish each moment, each second, each impression, each sound.
Is it only possible to enjoy the fleeting moment while focusing on the ever changing, ever the same melodies of the mockingbird? (The name is so bad, this birds is not "mocking" anyone, just singing his heart out...)
The improvisation is true freedom of creativity, this music does have wings! But what about scores fixed in notes, and painstakingly learned and repeated by human performers? Are they inferior to the divine feathered kind? They are just different. There is beauty in hearing the same complex work played by different talented interpreters. The joy of being surrounded and permeated by moving waves of sound is as intense in a garden as in a classical music concert. Two conditions: the music is live and it is acoustic, without any artificial electric distortion and amplification.
Zarebski Duo in concert, 25 February 2024
The Zarebski Piano Duo gave such a concert this Sunday, February 25, 2024, at Murphy Recital Hall of Loyola Marymount University. The concert was truly delightful, with its program perfectly arranged, alternating little-known 19th-century repertoire of virtuosic dances, with contemporary minimalist and surrealist styles of female composers. The rendition of the music was perfect as well, and the whole program full of inspirational moments.
The genre of "piano-four-hands" was popular in the 19th century, especially for young couples who could flirt while their hands touched and crossed... I must say I was a bit prejudiced against it, especially after laughing my head off at a Warsaw Autumn performance of Igor Stravinsky's Rite of Spring by a piano-four-hands-duo. It was completely ridiculous, to my ears... The massive, primordial chords of full symphony orchestra feebly imitated on one keyboard. No matter how hard they tried, they failed miserably...
But yesterday, the Zarebski Piano Duo raised this forgotten genre to new heights in their masterly concert at Loyola Marymount University. Grzegorz Mania and Piotr Rozanski from Krakow presented a fantastic, well-thought-out program with many beautiful pieces, starting from Juliusz Zarebski himself, a revelation! Born in 1854 with a great talent and a short life-span, he died at 31, so did not write much. But what he created is surely a set of masterpieces. Reverie et Passion op. 5 provided an amazing (I'm overdoing on superlatives here, but it was truly superb and I never heard it before, so ... a double delight!) opening to the program. It converted me from a foe to a fan of "piano-four-hands" as I was able to appreciate the virtuosity and the intensity of sonorous polyphony, whole avalanches of sound spanning the keyboard. The music deeply moved the listeners. While the melodious and romantic composition evoked the youthful intensity of emotion, it paradoxically made me think of incredibly original, virtuosic pieces by Conlon Nancarrow, Studies for Player Piano contain impossible scales, huge chords, light-speed arpeggios, all played by a pre-programmed machine... What if a transcription was made for two people? Could these pieces be played by pianists as well? I'm always in favor of people over machines...
The minimalPrelude by Anna Roclawska-Musialczyk (b. 1987), was "minimal" only in its use of a repetitive basic phrase that provided an ostinato of sorts for the whole composition, a bit like Ravel's Bolero. Luckily, its overall form was composed-out with dramatic peaks and moments of tranquility, so it was not as tedious as early minimalism of Steve Reich or John Adams. The music was beautifully laid out in its temporal flow, and gave ample opportunity for both pianists to showcase their talents.
The author of the next composition, Ignacy Friedman 1882-1948) was a contemporary of the modernist Karol Szymanowski, yet he wrote in the "old-fashion" style of a 19th-century virtuoso. Nonetheless, his Five Waltzes, Op. 51 had memorable melodies and quite a few surprises along the way, reminiscent of Haydn's Surprise Symphony. . . The juxtaposition of this melodious set in traditional dance rhythms with the preceding and following modernist textures made it even more memorable. Highly recommended! Here a note about Frederick Delius (1862-1934) should be made - he wrote romantic music of heavenly beauty in the era of stark modernism but was and is beloved for it, not condemned because he did not follow some fashion. We should take a second look at Friedman and other virtuosi who created such beautiful music, so rarely heard!
Hanna Kulenty at Disney Hall in Los Angeles, 2022
Having been friends with Hanna Kulenty (b. 1961) since the college years at the Chopin Academy of Music in Warsaw (now Chopin University of Music), and having spent many hours listening to her piano improvisations and concerts, I could tell the next composition Van of 2014 was hers after the first few phrases. She is among the unique contemporary composers that created their own, personal harmonic language, some of which she had revealed during her lecture of students at the Chopin Academy of Roza Kostrzewska Yoder and Douglas Yoder in Los Angeles during her visit in October 2022. (At that time she was the feature of Paderewski Lecture-Recital organized by USC Polish Music Center). The secret was using bi-tonality keyed a second apart, plus "dominant-ninth" chord structures - if I remember correctly. Do not quote me, if I do not. Let her musical language remain hers.
Already in college, Hanna Kulenty developed the "polyphony of arc" - composing music from interlocking arcs of sound that appeared and disappeared at times, in a modern version of the polyphony of melodies we hear in Bach's Kunst der Fuge... These "arc"-based textures contrasted several melodic, harmonic, textural "lines" of music that were seemingly going on forever, but only occasionally were audible to the audience. It was their sudden appearance and disappearance that gave the music direction and created the patterns of expectation and fulfilment or disappointment that is key to listening to classical music. (As per the authoritative text of Leonard B Meyer, Emotion and Meaning in Music). While working on her doctorate and "habilitation" (the second academic degree beyond the doctorate in the European system), Hanna's interest moved on beyond lines of harmonic-rhythmic patterns into juxtaposing whole dimensions of time, that is slowing down or accelerating, waxing and waning. Here whole musical universes evolve and collide. Her most recent iteration of style is called "surrealist music" - and it indeed sounds surreal when the whole orchestra slowly grinds to a halt, or slides downwards in a massive glissando taking the audience on an unpredictable ride into the unknown.
In introducing Kulenty's Van, the musicians spoke of Hanna's interest in visual arts, and treating music as a kind of "audible sculpture." Yes, and no, I think that the multi-dimensional music of Kulenty is focused on the multiplicity of simultaneous "times" rather than the solidity of sculptures. Her Van gave a taste of her ability to sculpture multiple time layers into a coherent and engaging whole. The musicians rendered her sound world perfectly and drew the audience in so much so that it erupted in a fervent applause after the piece ended.
While thinking of music as sculpture, let me quote the famous poem by Rainer Maria Rilke "An die Musik" that perfectly encapsulates the concept of musical work as a "sound sculpture" forever fixed in time through its notation. In hearing Kulenty interpreted by the Zarebski Duo, we were privileged to enter into such a heavenly sound artifice.
TO MUSIC
Music: breathing of statues. Possibly:
stillness in pictures. Speech where speech
ends. Time upright and poised
upon the coastline of our passions.
Feelings for whom? You are the transformation
of all feeling into – what? . . . audible landscape.
You stranger: music. Heart’s space
that’s outgrown us. Innermost us
which it’s scaled, surmounted, gone beyond
into holiest absence:
where what’s within surrounds us
the way the most skillful horizon does,
or the other side of the air,
pure,
immense,
no longer lived in.
---- Rainer Maria Rilke, translated by William H. Gass
A fascinating commentary on this poem may be found on the blog Poetry Letters of Huck Gutman, https://www.huckgutman.com/rainer-maria-rilke-to-music.
Sierra Mountains from the air, by Maja Trochimczyk
The balance of the program was more entertaining and more "salon-style" than the masterly segment from Zarebski to Kulenty that consisted of a series of masterpieces, all first rate... In contrast the remainder of the concert featured music that was pleasing but somewhat "second rate." This reminded me of my favorite quote from a poem on artistic quality by e.e.cummings, where the distance from first to second was enormous, and much larger than the following distance from second to tenth... Alas, I cannot find this poem, now that i need it...
Alexander Tansman's En tournant la T.S.F. (1951) is a series of cute miniatures musically representing different countries one could hear when turning the knob on the radio and listening to music from around the world. We were graced with a visit to France, England, Poland and Hungary if I'm not mistaken. A trip to Venice, with its lilting Barcarolle rhythm, provided an encore for the whole concert. Pleasing and lovely pastiches of stereotypical "national" characteristics, these miniatures were a tad too stereotypical to be truly visionary like Friedman's Waltzes heard earlier. These pieces were written for children, so they have their merits. To my taste, they were a bit too "trite" for a serious concert. Tansman was prolific and his oeuvre includes masterpieces and works of merely utilitarian or pedagogical value.
Katarzyna Kwiecien-Dlugosz (b. 1978) wrote a set of Seven Aphorisms for Piano 4-hands entitled Cinderella and dedicated to characters from the fairy-tale. We heard the vicious step-mother and the fairy Godmother along with Prince Charming, and ended the exploration of the tale with the "Glass Slipper." According to the musicians, the "Glass Slipper" with its delicate shiny textures was their favorite. For the audience, however, the villain, as often, won the contest, presenting the most interesting and rich array of harmonies, dissonances, and aggressive rhythms. We heard four "Aphorisms" and it would have made more sense to this listener at least, to skip Tansman entirely, and play all of Kwiecien-Dlugosz's composition. As it ended with the "slipper" and did not even allow Cinderella herself to sing her song, it was somewhat disappointing in presentation.
Piotr Rozanski, Prof. Wojciech Kocyan, Grzegorz Mania
The final three works, Polonaise, Valse and Hungarian Dance, Op. 11 by Maurycy Moszkowski (1954-1928) showcased the virtuosity and collaborative talents of both pianists in a late 19th-century set, relying again, like Tansman, on national stereotypes and dance types. I would not compare Moszkowski's Polonaise with Chopin's; not in the same league. However, as a lively and energizing conclusion to the concert, it felt just right.
My tinge of disappointment with the second half of the program appeared later, when I reflected on the concert while driving back and listening again to Bach's "heavenly sewing-machine" of Kunst der Fuge. While at Loyola, I thoroughly enjoyed the entire program alternating 19th century classics with minimalist and surrealist modern pieces. At the concert, nothing was out of place. Perfection itself! This also may be the choice of the musicians, to present more difficult, original and intense music first, and end with light-weight fare, so as to not overwhelm the perceptive faculties of the listeners.
Many thanks and hats off to the two gentlemen from the Zarebski Duo for their courage and dedication in resurrecting and bringing back to concert halls a forgotten repertoire of romantic and late romantic Polish music. Bravo!
The audience included quite a number of Modjeska Club members and the concert was organized jointly by our member, LMU Prof. Wojciech Kocyan, and Polish Music Center at USC. One of the listeners, Prof. Targowski, wrote his own mini-review in bullet points, since he is a computer scientist recognized for his analytical mind. Below is his summary of this performance (translated into English):
"It was great music, brilliantly performed. To me, a musical layman, it reminded me a bit of Chipina, of course not in relation to the nocturnes.
- Technique: playing all notes with precision, perfect clarity of sound, balance between two musicians, as well as velocity and dynamic differentiation.
- Cooperation and coordination: the musicians maintained balance and synchronization, especially in difficult moments.
- Engagement of listeners (especially me and my wife Irmina) in their performance. I think they had a shared musical vision.
- Dynamics: the musicians could appropriately express differences between forte and piano, crescendo and decrescendo.
- Sound balance: both hands had equal contributions to the overall sonorities. Both musicians brought out the full sound range of the piano.
- Repertoire and difficulty of the piece: good selection and meeting technical challenges.
- Overall impression: The performance was convincing, gripping and memorable."
Maja Trochimczyk, Wojciech Kocyan, Wanda Presburger of the Modjeska Club.
Now that I thought of audible landscapes and sound sculptures, I thought of the living paintings done with computer assistance (called AI, but should be called "plagiarism software") by Turkish digital artist Rafik Anadol. I loved his imagery of evolving California landscapes so much that I wrote a series of poems about them: https://poetrylaurels.blogspot.com/2023/05/rafik-amadols-living-paintings.html
California landscape living painting by Rafik Anadol.
After a Visit to an Art Gallery
In a hall of Rafik Anadol's living paintings
the Universe breathes and moves
mountain ranges rise and fall
oceans clash and dance
If I could live a million or a billion years
that's how I'd see the Earth - rising and falling -
a sea morphs into a lake shrouded in mists,
becomes the bottom of a mountain valley,
a melting glacier among snow-covered peaks,
under a cluster of alien stars.
Living, breathing matter folds itself into itself,
twists and changes. The patterns,
pulled by invisible strings of constellations,
form and re-organize themselves in waves
upon waves of revealed, transient beauty.
Ah, so that's what it was, that's what it is.
Nothing's fixed. There is no ground under our feet.
Everything is fluid. Only the endless motion.
(c) 2023 by Maja Trochimczyk