So why Rameau?

Yesterday I wrote about my conversion to Rameau.  So what it is about his music that I find so compelling.


Well first of all it is the sound itself.  Now I know that that seems self-referential because what is there in music apart from sound?  I suppose what I mean is that there is a richness of texture and a really good sense of balance between the bass line, the melody and the inner parts.  It is constantly inventive.


Digging a bit deeper I would say that the use of the orchestra is a constant joy.  Just three examples out of many.

• the use of bassoons in the recitatives in Zoroastre
• the low sustained notes in the horns in the musette in the last part of Les Fêtes d'Hébé
• and my favourite - the totally mad oboe parts in Platée representing the pond life



Then we have the ensembles.  Rameau is surely one of the great masters of the operatic ensemble - nobody came near him in my opinion until Mozart, and if one is talking about ensembles involving soloists and chorus then one has to look into the 19th century for anything as impressive as, say, the end of the first act of Platée or parts of Act 4 of Les Boreades

(although I must say that I find this too fast - Gardiner judges the tempo much more effectively in my view)

But finally there is the dance music. Surely Rameau must be counted as one of the great masters of theatrical dance music - in my view his only competitors are Tchaikovsky and Stravinsky, and much as I adore both them I think that I would have to hand the gold medal to Rameau.  The variety is astonishing - at one time elegantly languid - at others infectiously foot tapping.    Of course it is the dance that is the biggest problem to deal with in modern productions.  I don't believe that there is any point in trying to recreate the original steps, but I do sometimes feel that modern choreographers must have a tin ear, given the astonishing gulf between the sense of movement in the music and what appears on the stage.  The dancing in the performances of Les Boreades above is a case in point - it seems far too busy and fussy, as if trying to overcompensate for what the choreographer doesn't hear in the music.

Rant over!

So lets finishwith the wonderful contredanse that ends Les Boréades.  I don't normally like clapping to live music but you can see why the audience wanted to join in.  

Rameau

Tastes change.

If you went through the playlist on my IPOD today I think that you would find that I have played more "tracks" by Rameau than any other single composer.  I would never have predicted this even 10 years ago.

I don't recall hearing a note of Rameau's music all the way through school or university.   We did cover Rameau a little in the history of music theory and also briefly in the history of opera.  If any Rameau was played as an example I have not memory of it whatsoever - not that there would have been many recordings back in the 1970s which could have been used.  I do remember looking at some Rameau scores, but didn't find anything of interest there.  I found them too fragmentary to get my teeth into and all of the ornamentation very fussy.

The only real memory I have of Rameau is a conversation with one of my lecturers in the music library.  He told me that they had a bit of spare money in the library fund - that dates it! - and that they were  going to use it to expand the range of complete editions which we held.  When he told me that the first priority was Rameau I can still recall my reaction, which was "why can't we get something more interesting".   I also remembering reading revues of the Rameau revivals by the English Bach festival and wondering why on earth anybody would bother!

Even when I started to develop an interest in Handel Rameau was still a closed book.    I can date my first real encounter fairly precisely.  In an early issue of one of the CDs which started to be included with Gramophone magazine.   John Elliot Gardiner was being interviewed about his musical experiences and he mentioned how Rameau had come to life for him when he started to work with original instruments.  The musical extract chosen to illustrate this was the Entreé from Act IV of Les Boréades.

I was hooked!   I immediately ordered the CD of the entire opera and never looked back.  I think that I now have at least one recording of each of the operas which have been released on CD or DVD.  I managed to get to a couple of concert performance of Les Boréades (including one at the Proms conducted by Simon Rattle which left an indelible impression) and two staged performances of Castor et Pollux.


In my next post I will try to explain a little just why I find Rameau so captivating.  In the meantime here is the wonderful Chaconne which ends the opera Dardanus.

An enigma and a connection

Back tonight after a rehearsal of Elgar's Enigma Variations.

I am not what you would call an out-and-out Elgar enthusiast.  The one performance of The Dream of Gerontius which I took part in was enough for me, and I am one of those, perhaps rare, people who doesn't respond instinctively to the cello concerto.  On the other hand I greatly admire the first symphony and enjoy some of the lighter music - if you don't know Mina, Elgar's very late musical tribute to his dog, then I thoroughly recommend it.

But the Enigma Variations is his masterpiece.  The wit and tenderness of the portraits of his friends are irresistible, and there is not a note out of place (well perhaps the finale is a bit bombastic in places but who cares....).  The variations are one of those pieces which just works!

At the heart of course is Nimrod.  This is so embedded in the British musical psyche that it is sometimes difficult to hear it for what it really is - not a dirge but a heartfelt tribute to friendship.    At least that is how I hear it.   Of course there are other views.  If you have never heard it before you should listen to Bernstein trying to turn it into the slow movement of a Bruckner symphony.  I can just about see what he was trying to do - and on its own terms the performance is magnificent - but I can't help but regarding it as completely wrong headed and self indulgent.







Under the bonnet Nimrod is a wonderful example of the use of harmony to generate forward momentum.  I don't yet have the blogging technique to incorporate and annotate a score into this post, but if I could I would love to show how the use of dissonance and resolution builds the tension and the forward propulsion towards the climax.  Elgar may have been self conscious about his lack of formal training but in fact he was in complete control of his material in a way that never fails to impress.

I'd like to end with a treasured personal memory.  When I was a school I occasionally attended meetings of the Norwich gramophone society and one evening the speaker was Wulstan Atkins, who was Elgar's godson.  Afterwards I went with a few other members to somebody's house and Mr Atkins kept us entertained with lots of anecdotes of Elgar the man.

Not only was this fascinating in its own right but it opens up links to the musical past.  For example Elgar's violin teacher was Adolf Pollitzer, whose teacher was Joseph Bohm, who was one of the members of the quartet which worked with Beethoven on the early performances of his quartets.

I suspect that if I did enough work I could probably find a link to Beethoven with one fewer steps.  I wonder whether in his youth Elgar met somebody who himself had met Beethoven.  The dates would work.  Beethoven died in 1827, so somebody who met him aged 20 would have been born in 1807.  Elgar was born in 1857 so if you project him to age 20 that would take us to 1877.  Our putative man who met Beethoven would have been 70 then, so it is all possible.   Perhaps one day I will identify him.

Welcome back

Like so many other people I have started a blog with the best of intentions and then let it lapse.  So I am going to have another go