i am always drawn to the irregular - in rhythm, in harmony, in pattern, in structure - for, somehow, in this, i find what makes the most sense. more unusual than a limping aksak rhythm, to me, is squareness - the predictability of a box made to please simple logic. i suppose i am arguing that sense and wholeness can be made out of structures erected which follow their own laws and make sense according to their own rules (or lack thereof). these constructions tend to be more complexly-designed or contain parts more tighly-interwoven, certainly, but are also organically whole in that chaotic way we often observe in Nature and her patterns. *
without proper research to back up my claims, i'm afraid i have naught but my own aesthetic sensibilities upon which to draw, but it is in this luminous light which i trust. i strive to articulate as clearly and communicably as possible what i believe to be true.
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| anatjari tjakamarra - big pintupi dreaming ceremony, 1972 |
undoubtedly i am led straight into that haven of composers and artists who look to the jungle, as morton feldman put it, where time (and i suppose also raw and abstract "reality") exists uninhibited. these few look to a totality for inspiration, one that encompasses every aspect of observable and unobservable life - in the stories of the mountain folk, the rushing streams, the stillness of vast desert, and even in the unpretentious workings of the machine (that infinitely-extending projection of man's imagination and desire).
to find inspiration in the Everything and to condense into a single vision or instance these disparate patterns, rhythms, and workings is, quite literally, what i am all about.
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and so we have ligeti.
a seemingly natural successor to bartók, at least in some of his early works, györgy ligeti was a hungarian composer of much distinction. i focus mostly on his piano études, of which there are 18 - all composed during the last two decades of his life.
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| 1923 - 2006 |
this collection includes pieces both purely mechanical (thus fulfilling one of the basest requirements of the étude as musical genre) and those which encompass broader, more picturesque forms. some of my favorite individual études, both in concept, sound, and from a pianist's perspective, are:
no. 2, cordes à vide (2:02) - this piece has been likened to satie, but i see this particular étude as being more similar to the eleventh étude of debussy, pour les arpeges composés. open chords built on fifths, and dedicated to composer pierre boulez - i find the open texture and the chosen intervals both mesmerizing and intriguing. it's like listening to an imaginary orchestra tune for eternity...
no. 5, arc-en-ciel (10:29) - rainbow. i have always found this one to be simply beautiful. the harmonic tension blossoms early, nonviolently, as dissonances in high registers give way to an intense desire for resolution. it is aching to hear this unraveling search at such a measured speed. this rainbow signifyies apparent peace, but is not without its own darkness.
no. 6, automne à varsovie (13:54) - autumn in warsaw. i actually really applaud the work of some theorists who have ventured as far as to analyze, in-depth, the harmonic tapestry of ligeti's dense work. in this particular piece, the lamento motif (the chromatic descending line you hear so frequently in such varying forms) is not hard to spot, but is often associated with sadness and a crying out. chromaticism is used heavily and without apology in the finale.
no. 8, fém (20:19) - metal. what's interesting about this is the performance notes, where ligeti indicates that the pianist should play the piano "metallically" and with a "springy" tone. how can music played on a large-scale percussion instrument of hammers, strings and wood be made to sound like metal? by hitting the keys ... hard! this is another reason why i love ligeti's music: that he thought outside of the usual limitations of the instrument. here he has created a piece for the piano which conceptually is to sound like pure metal. how much more metal can you get?
no. 10, der zauberlehrling (25:12) - butterfly. dedicated to the pianist pierre-laurent aimard, who actually studied with messiaen (!), this immensely difficult piece is the audial version of a butterfly flying and flapping its wings in mid-air. again, you ask how ligeti can summon nature like this and for us to receive a believable simulacra of the real thing, but... he did it! with all the caprice and irregularity of a real butterfly, the asymmetrical rhythms recall the air disturbed by the wings themselves. the great shimmering climax begins at 26:21 when a waterfall of descending pentascales evolves into extensive descending chromatic lines (ligeti seemed to love these, didn't he?) until a beautiful outburst of sheer pentatonicism cuts into your soul - only to be overtaken once again by the delicate butterfly's flutter.
i am currently reading a biography of sorts on ligeti by richard steinitz entitled music of the imagination which is so far highly enlightening on the life of the man - a struggling composer out of will, but not necessarily out of practiced talent, who suffered a great deal of loss and failure in his life.
i find the scores to his études highly beautiful to look at as well:
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| the opening of désordre (1985) in ligeti's autograph |
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| the opening of entrelacs (1988) in ligeti's autograph |
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and so we have, also, messiaen.
| 1908 - 1992 |
a self-proclaimed ornithologist and rhythmician, rather than mere composer, olivier messiaen was devoted entirely to nature, light, and what he would call divine love.
defined however you please, this love led the man in everything he did - from wandering into forests and for years collecting and transcribing the songs of birds, those merrymakers both familiar and alien to us (who seem to know something about which we can only guess), to being captured and imprisoned in a german POW camp during the second world war where one of the most beautiful and revolutionary chamber works of the last century (quator por la fin du temps) was composed.
yes, these and more make the man quite a character to which i am irresistably drawn. being a pianist, it is his solo piano works which currently find me with eyes closed; transfixed and, often, transported.
his piano préludes, composed between 1928 and 1929, are pieces of unprecedented uniquity. indicated in the score for each, of which there are eight, messaien has specified precise colors to be associated with the sound of the piece. being one with synesthesia, he heard and saw color (his favorite being violet) - a unique sensory ability which left an indelible mark on both his compositional process and his wholly unique tonal language (the closest innovator to which messiaen might be able to be compared is debussy; but, ultimately, they are separate).
the first, a short piece entitled la colombe (the dove) is my favorite. it is so delicate, almost unimaginably so, and speaks a language sounding of resonances, rising and falling into silence and flutter. the last few notes utilize an incredible technique of affecting natural harmonics. the piece is written on three staves, too, as if conceived as a broad arrangement of birdlike instruments beyond the piano alone.
my second favorite of the set is the sixth, cloches d'angoisses et larmes d'adieu (bells of anguish and tears of farewell) (19:08). it is common for composers to place bells and the likeness of their specific tones in pieces (ravel and his miroirs come to mind).
each prélude is remarkable in its own way; one has only to study and listen to find beauty and trace it inward.
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i have been told that these sound purely chaotic, and i suppose i understand that, but there are indeed distinct melodies woven into the density, and these melodies do have identities which characterize them even when buried among chromaticism. remember: color, birds, and spirituality were some of the lifelong loves and inspirations driving this composer - it is impossible to separate these aspects of his waking life from the music of his soul - music that sounds as if it is of the universe's soul as well.
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| tim leura tjapaltjarri - travelling honey ant dreaming, 1972 |
* messiaen's own views on rhythm echo my assertions, it appears, and this is welcome news (i am really not the only crazy one here, eh?).
in an interview, messiaen says:
"schematically, rhythmic music is music that scorns repetition, squareness, and equal divisions, and that is inspired by the movements of nature, movements of free and unequal durations."
though these are strong and controversial views, i cannot disagree that music which lulls one into a state of predictability is most likely not "rhythmic" - not as defined by messiaen, in which all of rhythm's various shapes must be exhausted. i am not sure, however, if music which is rhythmically predictable is inherently less natural than music of a sporadic rhythmic nature. do we not also observe in nature, too, a rendering of order out of disorder? though not at precisely identical speeds, rain drops fall at a generally similar speed and rhythm - i find nature to be more approximate than precise, but less chaotic than messaien suggests.
natural asymmetry! it happens all the time - patterns which, out of pure biological error, are not perfect, but... are generally similar.
weirdly, though, natural systems still work brilliantly. now i'm definitely getting ahead of myself.
'till next time...
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