Classical Club August 2006: Bartok's Concerto for Orchestra

[matrixman]

To begin, here is Bartok's own succinct description of the Concerto for Orchestra: "The general mood of the work represents, apart from the jesting second movement, a gradual transition from the sternness of the first movement and the lugubrious death song of the third to the life assertion of the last one."

Bartok continues: "The title of this symphony-like orchestral work is explained by its tendency to treat single instruments or instrument groups in a 'concertante' or soloistic manner. The 'virtuoso' treatment appears, for instance, in the fugato sections of the development of the first movement (brass) or in the 'perpetuum mobile'-like passage of the principal theme in the last movement (strings) and, especially, in the second movement in which pairs of instruments consecutively appear with brilliant passages." So, almost every section of the orchestra gets to shine, as opposed to the usually dense, uniform sound of a "regular" symphony. That's not to imply the Concerto for Orchestra is in any way "wimpy." Bartok's concerto is a mighty work in its own right. I think it's one of the 20th Century's greatest classical compositions.

The following synopsis is taken from Wikipedia, with some editing by me. I'd give the author credit if I knew who wrote it, but anonymity is Wikipedia's game. Anyway, it's the best short summary of the Concerto I've come across:

The Concerto for Orchestra features all kinds of compositional techniques blended into one, and it is arguably one of the most brilliantly orchestrated pieces of music ever written. There are five movements:

1) Introduzione: a slow and mysterious introduction gives way to an allegro (briskly played) with numerous fugal passages. This movement is in sonata allegro form. (This Wikipedia article sums up fugues nicely, and this one explains sonata form more or less painlessly.)

2) Giuoco delle coppie (Game of the pairs): this movement prominently features the side drum which taps out a rhythm at the beginning and end of the movement. In between, pairs of wind instruments play short passages.

3) Elegia: a slow movement, typical of Bartók's so-called "night music".

4) Intermezzo interrotto (Interrupted intermezzo): a flowing melody with changing time signatures is interrupted by a banal theme, treated quite ironically, which is in part a parody of the march from Dmitri Shostakovich's "Leningrad" Symphony (No. 7). The banal theme is itself interrupted by "dismissing" glissandi on the trombones and "laughing" woodwinds. (This very technical Wikipedia article gets into the nuts-and-bolts of time signatures. If you have the patience and willpower to read it, by all means go for it! It's fairly instructive, but I stopped halfway through, as my brain was turning to jelly...)

5) Finale: marked presto, in which a whirling perpetuum mobile main theme competes with fugato fireworks and folky tunes. This is also written in sonata allegro form. (Perpetuum mobile (Latin), moto perpetuo (Italian), mouvement perpétuel (French), literally meaning "perpetual motion", are terms applied to pieces of music, or parts of pieces, characterised by a continuous steady stream of notes, usually at a rapid tempo.)

All right, that was the nitty-gritty "objective" part of the dissection. Now for some subjective rambling:

First of all, Bartok's music helped to "liberate" me from the stodgy notion that the 20th century was devoid of "good" classical music. I'd say Bartok was the first "modern" composer I really came to appreciate: his music oriented me towards the 20th century and I locked onto its other great composers - Ligeti, Berg, Shostakovich, and others. Classical music in the 20th century was not only good, it was some of the most awesome music I had ever heard, period.

Like the Concerto for Orchestra. Such an ordinary title hides some pretty extraordinary music. I've said elsewhere that I felt this music "captured" the Twentieth Century, both the good and the bad. When I listen to this music, I "hear" the angst and restlessness of modern life, but also its vigor and forward-looking spirit. Austere but humane, brooding but gentle, this music is a kaleidoscope of moods...but the modern voice is inescapable. You could not mistake this for a typical 19th-century romantic "concerto."

I also see the Concerto for Orchestra as a summing up of Bartok's own life and career, from struggle to final success. In 1940, the political situation in Hungary had led Bartok and his wife to emigrate to America. However, Bartok's music was hardly played in the U.S. The couple was nearly destitute, and then in 1943, Bartok found out he had leukaemia. But the Bartoks' Hungarian friends rallied around them. In particular, violinist Joseph Szigeti and conductor Fritz Reiner in secret persuaded Serge Koussevitsky, then conductor of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, to commission a large work from Bartok. Despite his ill health, Bartok was inspired by the commission and rapidly wrote the Concerto in a burst of creativity. He completed it in October '43. Koussevitsky premiered the Concerto in December, and it was a huge hit with audiences. Koussevitsky said that Bartok had written the greatest orchestral work in 25 years. Bartok was able to attend later performances, and was rewarded with standing ovations. So it's nice to know that Bartok at least got to taste some success in America before leukaemia claimed him (he died in Sept '45). So, the Concerto for Orchestra represents a triumph of the spirit over mortal flesh.

This is what Bartok's music brings to the table: an ascetic, modern sound tempered by the earthy humor and spirit of folk song (especially the Romanian and Hungarian variety). Though Bartok was an influential modernist, he himself remained an outsider -- an "unfettered one" (heh) -- who pursued his own study of ethnic folk music, away from the international movement towards modernism that reached its zenith in the 1950's. Architecture, design, interior decoration, music and art all became quite homogenous in the 50's when you think about it. By the 50's, regional or cultural characteristics tended to be smoothed away or eliminated in favor of an almost monolithic, international aesthetic. Something like Hungarian folk tunes would have been perhaps viewed disdainfully as mere kitsch. Look up Bartok in music reference books and you'll see he's often labelled as someone who never got with the program, never joined ranks with the other "serious" composers of the day. In sports or corporate analogy, Bartok wasn't a "team player." Nevertheless, Bartok did things his way, and anyway, his music still had a progressive spirit.

With Bartok, I get the sense of a very creative but also very disciplined mind at work. There is nothing superfluous about the Concerto, even if it may have been intended as a concert showcase. Every note has meaning, or implies something. Bartok gives us a very clean, sparse sound, in contrast to the thick soup of 19th-century Romantic orchestration. Bartok's music isn't about decadence, but about the consequences of decadence. The drunken orgy is over: time to wake up and get sober. That doesn't mean the Concerto is devoid of celebration -- far from it. The finale is as exhilirating as anything I've heard in classical music, but it's a kind of joy firmly expressed via a tight musical argument. Bartok was keen on formal clarity in his music.

When I said earlier that I "hear" the turmoil of the 20th Century in the Concerto, I really meant the first half of the century:

1st movement - It may be "stern" as Bartok said, but as the music gets into motion, I see in my mind's eye the hustle-and-bustle society and the gears of industry, as the century begins with possibility and the promise of better times for humanity. Progress, my dear, progress...whichever way you choose to define that word.

2nd movement - There is a kind of ironic, self-mocking dance I hear in this section. I see the boosterism and economic frenzy that takes hold of the Western world by the 1910's and 20's. War? Oh, never mind that, my dear. Remember: progress!

3rd movement - Dark music, full of melancholy, regret and haunted visions. The Great Depression. The utopian dream of unlimited prosperity turned into a nightmare of economic failure.

4th movement - Resurgence. The stasis is broken. The music wakes up from darkness and doom. A second World War, of all things, has ended the Depression and brought renewed economic vitality. So it takes war to get things moving again? No wonder there's that mocking tribute to the "Leningrad" symphony. Still, there's no denying the hope and excitement that the War years brought to many people. War sucks, but the men and women who fight them on our behalf must not be forgotten.

5th movement - A coruscating, breathtaking pyrotechnic display. It's the post-war boom! Modernism and popular culture, particularly American culture, comes to dominate the rest of the century. The hustle-and-bustle of a new era begins...

Yes, my own completely arbitrary interpretation of the Concerto for Orchestra. Thanks for reading!

[duchess of malfi]

I had not seen this before tonight!

Matrixman, I apologize for not answering this earlier - I intend on listening to this over the weekend, and I will respond again.

[duchess of malfi]

I must apologize once more. I quite stupidly did not write down the name of the composer of the piece of music.

So when the Watch went down this weekend, somehow I got "Berlioz" in my feeble brain.

This weekend I went to the store and bought three CD's with the music of Berlioz, as I could not remember the name of the music (nor the composer, as I realize now).

I will get this, and try to get back with you this week.

[matrixman]

My goodness! You have nothing to apologize for. I figured Bela Bartok wasn't going to be a big hit. The only Bela most people know about is Bela Lugosi, the guy who played Dracula!

Nothing wrong with Berlioz. The Symphonie Fantastique must be among the pieces in your 3-CD Berlioz collection, as that is his most popular work by far. Indeed, that's the only music of his I know. And what music! The Symphonie Fantastique is the work of a demented genius. I love it. Hope you get around to enjoying it yourself!

(Btw, I still haven't found a copy of Adams's On The Transmigration of Souls, so I'm unable to comment on it.)

[duchess of malfi]

August was a rough month for me, what with getting my son ready to move to the univerity, and moving him mid-month. This post must have flown right under my radar.

Anyway, I did pick up two discs of Bartok music today before work - the concerto, and a disc of piano music. The Berlioz I picked up on Sunday were that symphony, his requiem, and something with a weird name like Harold in Italy.

I will actually have the hosue to myself for the firrst time in ages on Saturday. I hope to take a long bubble bath and curl up in bed and listen to my new CD's.

The benadryl must be kicking in now - I have had the correct the speeling of nearly every word over three letters in this post. I had better get my shower and head to bed.

[duchess of malfi]

I did get the house to myself today. It was a day to take a long hot bath, read without being interrupted, and to listen to music at a loud volume.

I just finished listening to the Bartok Concerto. Now, I have only listened to it the one time (so far) so these will be initial impressions, combined with the sparse liner notes in the version I bought, and what you said above.

According to the liner notes, Bartok explained to his Hungarian musical friends the Hungarian roots of this piece of music. The first two movements have many Hungarian folk song themes in them, and probably represent some homesickness on the part of the composer. The third movement represents a strong nostalgia for Transylvania, where the composer had spent a large amount of time collecting folk music. The fourth movement combines a line from an opera by Vincze that said "You are lovely, you are beautiful, Hungary." along with a burlesque of the Shostakovich Seventh, which taken together represent someone singing lovingly of his country, and is interrupted by thugs who break his instrument. The last movement represents mankind coming together and dancing in brotherhood.

Well, my husband has Hungarian roots on his mother's side. His mother's grandparents came to American from Hungary in the late 19'th century. But the only thing left from Hungary is my husband's recipes for stuffed cabbage rolls and for goulash, which came from his mother. Sadly, no tradition of music and dance are still within the family. So, if this concerto does indeed contain all sorts of influences from Hungarian folk music, they are sure way outside of my knowledge.

Well, I did enjoy this piece. While it is a concerto instead of a full scale and length symphony, it certainly carried within it the range of music and emotion that the best symphonies do.

I especially liked the second movement. With the soft percussion beginning and ending the music - it felt like a funeral song to me - the funeral of someone or something grand and beautiful.

I thought that there was an emotional undercurrent of sorrow and loss throughout much of the piece. Given that the composer wrote it near the end of his life, and at a period of time (1944) when his country was so threatened first by the Nazis and then by the Soviets, this certainly makes a lot of sense.

Even in the last movement - the dance music - there is an undercurrent of sadness, along with the hope. Will manking dance together in brotherhood with joy under the light? Or will mankind dance together like puppets at the end of the strings wielded by monsters and madmen? While you hope that it will be in joy, the possibility is still there for the darkness. in 1944 the monsters were there, wielding devastation, death, and slavery for a world -right alongside the bravery and light and hope for mankind as represented by the Allies.