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# first page #
# programme notes # |
Makrokosmos, Volume II Twelve fantasy pieces after the Zodiac Makrokosmos (Volume II), like its predecessor Volume I, is comprised of 12 pieces laid out in three groups of four each. I conceive of the whole work as a very gradual intensification in tempo and dynamics up to the climactic eighth piece ("A Prophecy of Nostradamus") and a subsequent spinning out to the beautifully sustained and almost hypnotic Dona Nobis Pacem conclusion. Of course each piece has its own very characteristic sound and mood, and its duration is nicely calculated, psychologically speaking, so that both performer and listener become totally involved and absorbed in its expressive import. Nonetheless, I strongly sense the broad architecture and ongoing development of the work as a whole and want to project this in my performance. The composer's descriptive markings are precise and very helpful to the performer, since such terminology suggests and "evokes" the quality of sound that the composer had in mind. Each piece provides a fine example, but I will mention only three. In the first piece ("Morning Music"), the markings "exuberantly" and "primitive" suggest to me those particular qualities of rhythm and timbre that are essential to the effective projection of the music. The eighth piece ("A Prophecy of Nostradamus") carries the inscription "Stark, powerful; molto pesante!" These words particularly describe the ponderous quality of the Lisztian minor triads, which, sustained and repeated, suggest the inexorable rhythm of a slow, majestic march. The twelfth piece ("Agnus Dei") bears the poetic phrase "as if suspended in endless time". For the performer, these words provide the precise key to the interpretation of a problematic passage consisting of a four-fold repetition of a single, long phrase. Would the composer prefer that the listener ignore these verbal descriptions while hearing the music? I would hope not, since the descriptions are intimately connected with the musical conception itself and would, therefore, enhance the listener's appreciation. Makrokosmos (Volume II) sounds as though the piano has become an orchestra unto itself. There is, in fact, an enormously wide range of sound, timbre, touch, dynamics, etc. A variety of factors -- amplification, various vocal effects, the imaginative exploitation of the three pedals, effects produced by the fingers in contact with the strings, and the use of external devices -- contribute to this. The amplification of the piano by a conventional microphone suspended over the strings gives the instrument a greater presence than normal; however, the amplification must not result in any distortion of the sound. The amplification enhances many of the very delicate effects, such as pizzicato playing and muting of the piano strings. The above-mentioned external devices are three in number: a sheet of paper resting on the strings (in the first piece), two glass tumblers (in the fifth piece), and a percussionist's wire brush (in the ninth piece). Other than the sustained whistling throughout the tenth piece, the vocal effects are sparse but especially effective. I would mention the singing in the fifth and twelfth pieces, the unvoiced singing ("wind sound") in the ninth piece, the shouting at the end of the seventh piece, and the whispering in the twelfth piece. The use of "inside-the-piano" effects is quite extensive and includes plucking the strings (pizzicato) with either the fingernail or fingertip, muting the strings to alter the tone quality or touching the nodes to produce harmonics, and glissando over the strings with either fingernail or fingertip. A particularly characteristic percussive effect is obtained by striking the metal structural beams of the piano with the knuckles. I hope that the above description will not appear unduly detailed, but I do feel that the listener is entitled to know why the piano sounds the way it does. The one use of quotation in Makrokosmos (Volume II) is beautifully subtle. In the eleventh piece ("Litany of the Galactic Bells"), the opening music -- a shimmering bell effect which obviously recalls the Coronation Scene from Mussorgsky's Boris Godunov -- gradually subsides and moves almost imperceptibly into a short excerpt from Beethoven's Hammerklavier Sonata. The effect is somewhat like the changing colors of a prism. Makrokosmos (Volume II) is written out in a very precise notation, but the music will at times sound quite free and flexible, almost improvisatory. The last piece of each of the three parts (i.e., the fourth, eighth and twelfth pieces) are printed in a geometric design or "symbolic" notation. I feel that the composer was thereby subconsciously compelling the performer to play the work from memory. And so I have. I feel that this definitely helps the performer to mesmerize his audience for an enriching, half-hour musical experience. As in Makrokosmos (Volume I) each piece is associated with a different sign of the Zodiac and with the initials of a person born under the sign. However, I feel that these inscriptions are more or less symbolic in character and therefore do not affect the performance of the music. Otherwise I would be letting the stars, or character of the person, guide my interpretation. An interesting thought, but heavens, how would I approach "The Mystic Chord", which bears the initials R.M.!? Robert Miller
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