George Rochberg (b. 1918):
Symphony No. 5 Black Sounds Transcendental Variations
The key that will open George Rochberg's music to the
willing, the curious, but especially to the "innocent" ear lies not in the conventional wisdom that declares him the
first "post-modernist" for his openness to a complex mix of musical languages,
but rather in seeking to enter the composer's extraordinary understanding of the nature of time.
As
long ago as 1963, Rochberg, in The New Image of Music, wrote that the
successive revolutions of twelve-tone composition and of the post-war avant-garde had brought about a liberation that "permits sounds to create their own context". This liberation of sound from tonal harmonic functions, led to "the overthrow
of a long-dominant temporal structure"; to a world in which conglomerates of
pure sound are able to interact in ways that are not necessarily hidebound by structural considerations.
"Subjective
man," writes Rochberg, "views existence as change; himself and his history at the center of a process of
becoming... Subjective man cannot
transcend time; he is trapped in it. However, when man seizes on the present
moment of existence as the only 'real' time, he spatializes his existence; that
is, he fills his present with objects that take on ... a state of permanence."
Thus did the composer allow broader means of expression to be added to his
vocabulary, constantly enlarging it, making possible what he later came to call
an "all-at-once world".
By
1959, Rochberg was lionized as America's first and greatest Master of
composition in a serial language. His 1955-56 Second Symphony, taken up and enthusiastically premièred by
George Szell, seemed to lay out a path for him as one of the leaders of the
American avant-garde. And yet, not even three years after its première, he was
rethinking his language, already dissatisfied with the limitations of expressivity of
the strict twelve-tone environment. Having mastered the idiom, he was far ahead of his time in seeking to go
beyond it.
The
oft-repeated assertion that it was predominantly personal tragedy that led Rochberg to abandon dodecaphony
and embrace tonality, is not entirely borne out by the facts. His evolution
towards a multiplicity of simultaneous languages was already well in train from
his earliest compositions. Rochberg speaks of his use of twelve-tone techniques
as engendering
a "hard" Romanticism - one has only to look at the slow movement of the Second
Symphony, Rochberg's "serial" work par excellence, to see that the tone row
yields music that alternates between melting, elegiac beauty and desperate
explosions of anguish; ebullient self-confidence and profound tragedy.
George
Rochberg's relationship with the past is not one of nostalgia; it is one of
intimate, living familiarity.
Indeed, he has said, in Reflections on the Renewal of Music, "History will not
help us; but the past, which is ever-present, can".
Rochberg
is never about regret, borrowing or quotation (even if only
quotation "in kind"). The Universal Mind, which is there to be embraced by a
composer humble enough to deny ego and the flawed search for "originality" at
all costs, transcends Time and Space. Denying individualism, seeing the creative artist as a representative of
the endless procession of the human condition, the purveyor of our collective
memory, allows the composer to gather the entirety of experience into a single,
integrated language.
At
the heart of Rochberg's music are an acceptance of the past as an integral ingredient of a rich present; an
understanding that an art which insists on "originality" in its every utterance
can have no context and no hope of communication. His music liberates the
contemporary musician fearlessly to draw upon, and develop in his own voice,
the inheritance of his artistic forbears without being derivative, in the
knowledge that there is a language, that the many-hued palette of the great
masters has not been darkened forever by the cultural pathologies of the
twentieth century.
"The
hope of contemporary music", writes Rochberg, "lies in learning how to
reconcile all manner of opposites, contradictions, paradoxes; the past with the
present, tonality with atonality. That is why, in my most recent music, I have
tried to utilize these in combinations which reassert the primal values of
music."
George
Rochberg was born in Paterson, New Jersey on 5th July, 1918. An accomplished
pianist who worked his way through college playing in jazz bands in New York
City, he began formal studies of composition in 1939 at the Mannes School of Music, under Hans Weisse,
George Szell and Leopold Mannes. He was seriously wounded during wartime
service in Europe, subsequently resuming his studies at the Curtis Institute of
Music in Philadelphia in 1945 with Rosario Scalero. From 1951, he was Director
of Publications for the music publishing house Theodore Presser, in 1960
becoming Chairman of the Music Department at the University of Pennsylvania. In
1979 he was designated Annenberg Professor of the Humanities,
retiring from the University in 1983.
Rochberg's
music has been honoured since his earliest substantial
compositions, his Night Music receiving the George Gershwin Memorial Award in 1953. Since then,
Naumberg Recording Awards, Guggenheim Fellowships, Honorary Doctorates, a Fellowship at the American Academy in Rome, and Fulbright Scholarship in
1950-51 (the year in which he met and befriended Luigi Dallapiccola), the
ASCAP Lifetime Achievement Award in 2000; and countless other honours have
accumulated in ever greater profusion. In 1996, his manuscripts and papers were acquired for the archives at the Paul Sacher Foundation in Basel,
Switzerland.
In
the words of the Washington Post, "Rochberg presents the rare
spectacle of a composer who has made his peace with tradition while maintaining
a strikingly individual profile... he succeeds in transforming the sublime concepts of traditional music into contemporary language."
In
1983 John Edwards, manager of the Chicago Symphony Orchestra, sounded out
Rochberg about the possibility of writing a substantial work to mark the city's forthcoming sesquicentennial in 1986. An anonymous patron had specifically indicated a "Concerto for Brass and
Orchestra"; Rochberg replied, "When I write my new Symphony, I will not neglect
the brass!"
Some
months later, Rochberg was meeting with Georg Solti, who had already conducted
his Violin Concerto and the symphonic poem Imago Mundi. The composer, hoping that he would be
allowed a large orchestra, including fourth trumpet and extra percussion, related the "Concerto for Brass" story. Smiling broadly,
Solti revealed, "that was me!", and of course readily agreed to a full-scale
symphony.
Conventional
assumptions about Rochberg's work are radically subverted by this monumental
work. The Fifth Symphony embodies the distillation par excellence of Rochberg's concept of "hard" Romanticism: expressive, yet
never indulgent; passionate, yet stringently argued. Its seamless integration of differing modes of expression is, indeed, no more or less
varied in voice than one might encounter - or expect! - in any Mahler Symphony.
The music is held together by core thematic material of merely a few intervals,
brilliantly manipulated to engender musical motives of vastly differing characters, but
often sounding an echo of the five-note "turn" of Mahler's Ninth and of the
final "Ewig" movement of Das Lied von der Erde.
Totally
groundbreaking is the form of the work, which is a continuous composition of 28
minutes, in seven major sections: Opening Statement, Episode I, Development I,
Episode 2, Development 2, Episode 3 and Finale.
Each
of the Episodes is contemplative, even dreamlike in
character; while the opening and closing sections and the Developments are
fast-paced, driven cries of despair teetering on the edge of chaos and collapse.
Rochberg recalls the American poet Robert Bly: "Eat your grief before it eats
you." Yet, the second Episode contains hauntingly beautiful forest music, the
calls of four horns melting into the distance of time, recalling faint, just
recoverable echoes of the lost era of the Chanson de Roland. The third Episode
also regards time, now in the epoch of Einstein and Hawking: the "cosmic
clock". The music of the first Episode penetrates even into
the Finale, where a longbreathed cello solo (played here by Manuel
Fischer-Dieskau) seeks to hold on to the timeless world, braving the intrusion
of bleak reality until the last.
"
'In Medias Res' : 'In the Midst of things' that is how I wanted the opening of
the multi-sectioned Fifth Symphony to begin", writes the composer in his
soon to-be-published Memoirs. "As
though it had already begun somewhere out of hearing in a fury of violent
emotions suddenly it surrounds you, it is present, at its peak, and takes you
into its world with its insistent calling that cuts
through the tumult."
"Golden
Music!", declared Edgard Varèse to Rochberg of the younger man's Duo
Concertante, following its
performance at a Festival in Canada in 1960. A few years later, the young
composer found himself sitting with the revered master in the latter's downtown
New York townhouse, longingly eyeing a pannetone he had brought, to which
Varèse was indifferent; music alone the consuming topic of conversation. Varèse was already ill, but in the time left to him, the
two composers formed a bond whose mutual admiration has been immortalized in this "homage to Edgard Varèse", Black Sounds.
Indeed, their artistic aims are intimately in tune - Rochberg speaks of Varèse
as "the last Romantic", especially for his Arcana (itself, in part, an "hommage
à Strawinsky"), "its totally released hysterical emotionalism always at the
breaking-into-chaos point".
By
turns angry, stark and desolate, Black Sounds is closely based on a 1964
composition, Apocalyptica, for large wind ensemble, piano and no less than
twelve percussion. There are few
changes of content in this adaptation for twelve wind and brass, piano/celesta,
and four percussion; though, intriguingly, the cadenzas for a panoply of
unpitched drums and tomtoms in Apocalyptica, have been
rewritten as pitched passages for timpani in Black Sounds. The emotional impact
of the work remains shattering for these reduced forces.
Lincoln
Center commissioned Black Sounds for a September 24, 1965 telecast, where it
was first performed as a ballet by Anna Sokolow under the title "The Act",
describing an act of murder. The televised event won the Prix Italia the same
year. The score of Apocalyptica is preceded by these lines, still apt for its
incarnation as Black Sounds, from Act III, scene 2 of Shakespeare's King Lear:
Blow,
winds, and crack your cheeks! rage! blow!
You
cataracts and hurricanes, spout
Till you
have drenched our steeples,drowned the cocks!
You
sulph'rous and thought-executing fires,
Vaunt-couriers to oak-cleaving thunderbolts,
Singe my
white head! And thou, all-shaking thunder,
Strike
flat the thick rotundity o' the world,
Crack
Nature's moulds, all germens split at once,
That
make ingrateful man!
The
ecstatic Transcendental Variations for string orchestra is a work derived
closely from Rochberg's Third String Quartet of 1971-72 one of the watershed
works in American, indeed in western art music of our time. The Quartet is the first work of Rochberg's in which
he no longer flirts with "tonality" as an essential ingredient of his
expressive palette, but embraces it without reserve, showering the music with
virtuosity, mastery, and an intensely personal voice. "Diatonic" though it is,
the score contains myriad passing harmonies and melodic collisions, frequently reaching surprising levels
of dissonance through multiple suspensions or
complex canonic intersections, that would have been unimaginable prior to the
twentieth century.
This
is not the place to describe the controversy unleashed by the early
performances and recording of the Quartet. Its detractors aside, the work
struck a chord with countless musicians, one of whom, conductor Vilem Sokol, suggested to Rochberg in 1975 a version of the
quartet's slow movement for string orchestra. The resulting Transcendental
Variations are music thoroughly recomposed in terms of registration and
sonorities. Its textures are filled out
to impart a richness quite different in scope from the
intimate qualities of the original string quartet, stretching the musical vision
heavenward, giving it immense depth, scope and luminosity.
"Transcendental"
has everything to do with Rochberg's vision of time, or rather, timelessness;
no resonance is intended with the nineteenth century American literary movement
of the same name. These seven variations are arranged in a sequence that feels
deceptively simple on the surface. The true "theme" of the Variations is only
revealed in the Finale, an homage in canonic form to one of the composer's most
revered forbears. The work transcends, indeed rejects any religious meaning; its true inner life remains hidden. Whilst toying
with ancient mysticisms, it is in the end enclosed in its own impenetrable
mystery.
Notes by Christpher Lyndon-Gee
Conductor's Note
I first met George Rochberg in January 1986, when I was
(unsuccessfully!) auditioning for Assistant Conductor of the Chicago Symphony
Orchestra. That same week, Rochberg's Fifth Symphony was receiving its world
première by the orchestra, under Sir Georg Solti. I attended rehearsals and the
première, coming to know Rochberg already quite well, as a result of which I
arranged several concerts and lectures for his visit to Australia later the
same year.
Strangely,
this towering work, the Fifth, was not taken up by other conductors after
Solti, and its recording in Saarbrücken in March 2002 - its second performance,
sixteen years and two months after its première - represented the fulfillment
of a long-held wish of mine. The Saarbrücken orchestra had given public
performances of the Violin Concerto a few days earlier, but the Fifth was
scheduled only for the studio. We
finished the "takes" in record time, leaving two-and-a-half hours free at the end. The orchestra generously assented
to repeat the work entire and whole, as a performance, for the composer and his
wife, Gene Rochberg. Without doubt, this "concert" for an audience of two was
one of the most moving experiences of my life.