Johann Strauss II,
“The Waltz King”
When you come to think about it, Western music notation
is quite amazing because it has served musicians pretty well unchanged for
several hundred years. The orchestral music behind the latest blockbuster
movie was written using virtually the same notation system used by Bach,
Handel and Vivaldi. It’s international too, and a child learning the violin
in Glasgow uses the same system as a professional player in Moscow. The
music may be simpler but the “language” is the same.
Even so, music notation has its shortcomings. It can’t
tell you exactly how loudly or quietly a piece should be played. It
can’t tell you exactly how a phrase should be performed or exactly
how to apply colour or vibrato to notes. Although the metronome appeared
in 1868, not everyone bothered to use it. In the past, composers were often
imprecise about what they wanted and wrote something like “a bit louder” or
“a bit slower” which is vague to say the least. You might be surprised to
know that even today these directions are usually written in Italian. The
custom began several hundred years ago and the habit just stuck.
Because of the limitations of notation, a great deal of
musical decision-making is left to the performer and one of the most
challenging tasks is not actually playing the notes but deciding how
to play them. In the case of an orchestra, someone has to make unilateral
decisions and this is the role of the conductor. In a big orchestra
individual musicians can’t always hear each other, so as well as beating
time (which is not always done when the beat is obvious), the conductor has
to give cues, control the overall orchestral balance and bring some meaning
to the music.
At an orchestral concert you may be surprised that
sometimes the conductor doesn’t seem to do very much work. This is because
the work has already been done, sometimes weeks, days or hours before the
concert. The conductor Leopold Stokowski was fond of saying that music
notation is not music; it’s just “black marks on white paper. It’s the job
of the performer to convert the black marks into living sounds.”
Johann Strauss II (1825-1899, Austria) Overture: Die
Fledermaus. Sudfunk Sinfonieorchester, cond. Carlos Kleiber (Duration:
44:32, Video: 480p)
Carlos Kleiber (1930-2004) was one of the less well-known
great conductors of the twentieth century, perhaps because in his entire
professional life he gave less than a hundred concerts and only about four
hundred opera performances. He made comparatively few recordings and refused
to give interviews.
Even if you don’t know the opera Die Fledermaus
(“The Bat”) you may recognise some of the tunes in the overture. This film
was made in 1970 with the South German Radio Orchestra, and a dour-looking
no-nonsense bunch they seem too. That’s until Kleiber works his magic with
his fast thinking, fertile imagination, quirky sense of humour and his
meticulous attention to detail.
Perhaps the most persuasive feature of the rehearsal –
and indeed the most moving, is how these grim-looking orchestral players
gradually warm to the conductor’s personality, his obvious expertise and his
delight in the music. Some of them eventually start smiling and by the end
you can even sense a shared feeling of joy. But not only that, if you watch
all the way through - and it is really is worth finding the time - you can
hear the remarkable transformation in the music from rehearsal to
(1882-1971): The Rite of Spring. Schleswig-Holstein Orchestra, cond.
Bernstein (Duration: 56:14 Video: 340p)
This piece was originally conceived as a ballet and was
first performed over a hundred years ago, but the outrageous nature of the
music and the choreography caused a near-riot among the Parisian audience.
It’s a challenge to perform and for decades the work was considered
virtually impossible to play by all but the best orchestras.
The International Orchestral Academy of the
Schleswig-Holstein Music Festival was founded in Northern Germany by Leonard
Bernstein in 1987. Each year the Academy assembles a youth orchestra from
more than 1,500 applicants world-wide. Only 120 instrumental players - all
under twenty-six years of age - are selected.
This film was made in 1988 and it’s fascinating to watch
a legendary musician working so comfortably with such a young orchestra. I
remember hearing a record of The Rite of Spring for the first time
when I was about fourteen. It was the most exciting music I had ever heard.
On reflection, perhaps it still is. Incidentally, when I was a music student
in the 1960s, I once spoke to Stravinsky on the phone, because I wanted to
arrange an interview while he was in London. The Great Man had a cold and
was in a very tetchy mood, and in his squeaky voice and almost impenetrable
Russian accent he told me, more or less, to sod off.