infotext:
"SHE TAKES NO PRISONERS" "Music was my only way of surviving in this world." As a young boy, Anders Eliasson formed his toy soldiers into an orchestra, sat in front of them and sang, imitating the voices of the instruments. The first music he can remember is "my own singing". At the age of nine he was given a trumpet, was trained by experienced jazz musicians and was soon the leader of his own band, consisting of two clarinets, trombone, drums, guitar and trumpet. When he was fourteen he received lessons in harmony and counterpoint. 'But it wasn't much luck in the rest of my life at that time. I suffered incredibly. When I was sixteen, seventeen, I got really sick. I had to go to the hospital: psychosis.« Two years later, Eliasson is in Stockholm, where he finds his mentor in Valdemar Söderholm: »He showed me the way. I studied counterpoint with him for five years. Bach, Bach, Bach – the highest energy you can come into contact with.” He also composes at the same time, but “that was nothing: 'Musical Theatre', 'Kinetic Music', and I became familiar with the aesthetics of the classics and the modernists. Lots of idiotic attempts, but I had to get to know it, get used to it, know what I was doing.« He then joins the composition class of Ingvar Lidholm, one of the leading members of the Monday Group, which has a firm grip on the modernist aesthetic in Sweden, and “I was shocked because I suddenly lost all connection to music within myself. I couldn't avoid this upbringing. I understood these things, was also very interested in electro-acoustic music. But at the same time I knew it couldn't be. So I went in search of my ›musical alphabet‹.« At the beginning of the XNUMXs, Eliasson found the basis from which he could move musically. It is remarkable that his music cannot be assigned stylistically - yes, the more intensively one deals with it, the less. 'Questions of style don't matter. To indulge in such ideas would be to ask someone else what to do. And of course I've often experienced that: when I tried to impose my will on the music, it was always a disaster.« What is Eliasson's 'musical alphabet'? “It's nothing special, it's absolutely simple, and it's the starting point for everything. Modes as simple as: dfhchfd, a kind of Lydian mode; and: deabaed, a typical Doric mode. Horizontally and vertically. Both modes are very closely related; easy to switch from one to the other. To me it is neither Lydian nor Dorian, and in no other compounds lies so much possibility. I don't know of any that have that much space - it leads straight to infinity. It is based on a strong limitation. However, if you step into it and try to exploit it, it is absolutely unlimited. The simpler the basis is, the more diverse development is possible. On the other hand, the more complicated a system is, the more limited it is at the same time. It's a paradox. The tonal system can deviate extremely far from its foundation, but even then it is always related to the foundation.« The compositions that Eliasson has created since the early XNUMXs are mostly instrumental: four symphonies (the second unfinished) and other symphonic pieces; Solo concertos for violin, clarinet, alto saxophone (for John-Edward Kelly), bass clarinet, trombone, violin and piano, bassoon, horn, trumpet (with percussion ensemble); several works for string orchestra; Compositions for chamber ensemble and varied chamber music; also, with singing, the great oratorio Dante Anarca about Dante and his six masters; his most recent work Quo vadis?; the symphonic ascent Canto del vagabondo; the Tranströmer setting Breathing Room – July etc. Overall, his oeuvre is one of the central pinnacles in the great symphonic tradition. It doesn't overwhelm the listener, who devotes his full attention to it, keeps him constantly in suspense, doesn't allow him any downtime. Immediately after completing the composition, asked how his Fourth Symphony was, Eliasson said: »It takes no prisoners. She grabs the phone by the throat and drags it with her to the end.« Due to the triangulatory generated harmony (every third fifth is the closest relative) it is like constant between all worlds. It is always in contact and continuous interaction with opposite gravitational centers and never yields to the attraction of a particular center. With somnambulistic certainty, she always follows the trajectory between all attractors - like an uninterrupted act of liberation. »The emotional force field is the most important – the energetic truth, the being behind the appearance of things. Music is not a physical thing, but sound is. That's why today there are so many sounds without a soul. Sound is far from being music. Sounds can be described, categorized. You can only experience music. She is even beyond sympathy and antipathy. It stands above - or moves beyond - space and time. How could you put it? Timeless presence, infinite presence - always in paradoxes, because reality is incompatible with the pragmatism of thinking. Not everyone understands that. It's hard to understand." Listening to the three works on this CD it is evident that Eliasson's style has changed over the years. It is a long way from the vehemence and the extremes of sound in Desert Point via Ostácoli (which is already a kind of classic for string orchestra today) to the wide-ranging intimacy of the Sinfonia per archi, which describes an immense, finely woven arc of tension. It is unpredictable what will come next. Because each piece is its own being, has its own demands. What is the composing process like? “A piece is always more personal at the beginning than at the end. Because I'm just trying to follow the development of the music, which is an objective process. I move under the skin of the music, so to speak. Where she moves is up to her, not me. It's not me that comes to an end. It's the music itself, and I'm trying to keep my fingers out." The intensity of the musical process in Eliasson's music is unique. It probably has something to do with the fact that he does not speak of himself, but resonates with forces that are greater than humans. »Who are we in the cosmos? Even 'grains of sand' is an extreme exaggeration. But maybe one or the other will succeed – given the technical skills and the mental openness – to be receptive to energies and intelligences that are unimaginable in our small world, and to manifest them here.« Christopher Schlüren |
program:
[01] Desert Point (1981)
[02] Ostacoli (1987)
[-03 05] Sinfonia per Archi (2001)
Arcos Chamber Orchestra
Violin I: Elissa Cassini (concertmaster) ∙ Andrew Eng ∙ Joe Puglia ∙ Shaw Pong Liu ∙ Megumi Stohs
Violin II: Jennifer Curtis (principal) ∙ Keats Dieffenbach ∙ William Harvey ∙ Ana Milosavljevic ∙ Marc Uys
Viola: Margaret Dyer (principal) ∙ Jason Fisher ∙ Stephanie Fong ∙ Todd Low
Cello: Dane Johansen (principal) ∙ Samsun van Loon ∙ Jeremiah Shaw
Double bass: Thomas van Dyck (principal) ∙ George Anthony Flynt
John Edward Kelly, conductor
Press:
Nov/Dec 2009
Sinfonia for Strings – Ostácoli – Desert Point
Anders Eliasson is one of a body of European composers, mostly Scandinavian, who continue to operate at the forefront of large-scale symphonic music. He has written many concertos, four symphonies, and a number of pieces for string orchestra. Three of the latter may be heard on this release: the single-movement Desert Point (1981) and Ostácoli (1987), and the Symphony for Strings (2001), a 38-minute work in three connected movements.
Eliasson's music is less about process than it is about mood. Utilizing a dense polymodal harmonic system, he creates an ongoing cycle of tension and release, usually with a melancholic strain. You might say he is a subdued Allan Pettersson. His polyphonic string writing (most notable in the lengthy first movement of the Sinfonia) expands and develops a tradition established by Bartók in his Music for Strings, Percussion, and Celesta—a work that turns out to be more influential than ever in contemporary music. Like several composers of his generation, Eliasson composed in a restrictive serial idiom until he embraced an albeit complex tonality. Nevertheless, Schoenberg is an influence, too; the long thematic lines within dense string textures are a dissonant reflection of the sound and soul of Transfigured Night.
The earlier works on this disc suggest Eliasson's avant-garde background, with greater timbral variety in the string writing and sudden changes of mood, whereas the Sinfonia is overwhelmingly concerned with organic development. The journey through the Sinfonia's yearning, heightened first movement via the restless second to a gentler but still troubled resolution in the third is prolonged and intense, but ultimately satisfying. Quite simply, this is a major work. There is no denying that it takes several run-throughs to become familiar with the musical terrain, partly because rhythm and pulse play a negligible role in the argument.
The composer was new to me when I received this CD, and my attitude to this program has changed with each listening: at first I found the early works harsh and the Sinfonia more involving, but subsequently the tautness and variety of the shorter pieces (particularly Ostácoli) functioned as a refreshing contrast to the emotional intensity of the longer work: a splash of cold Nordic water after an anxious, sleepless night.
Although this release is from a Spanish company, the Arcos Chamber Orchestra is based in New York. It displays the highest standards of ensemble, understanding, and commitment to the music, bringing out all possible light and shade under the sure guidance of John-Edward Kelly. (Kelly is a world-renowned classical saxophone soloist who has turned increasingly to conducting; Eliasson's Saxophone Concerto was written for him.) The musicians are recorded closely but with a nice ambience and clear separation of the orchestral sections. (I have not heard the five-channel SACD version, but it sounds excellent in stereo.)
The CD booklet states that this is the premiere recording of the Sinfonia. As it was taped last year, their claim is incorrect: the entering cpo company released a recording from 2006 by the Swedish RSO under Johannes Gustavsson (reviewed in Fanfare 32:5). I was curious as to how different the Sinfonia would sound with full strings, so I purchased a copy. As anticipated, the string section of the Swedish orchestra produces a mellower cushion of sound, reinforced by a distant and reverberant recording. This certainly softens the work's intensity, but the Arcos forces separate contrapuntal strands more clearly and make more of contrasts. One example is a passage in the second movement, where solo violin is pitted against a staccato accompaniment from the lower strings. With the large orchestra, it registers as a thinning out of the massive texture, whereas the chamber players add a lightness of touch and a subtle dance-like quality.
I definitely prefer the sharply nuanced Arcos, but matters are complicated by the couplings: the cpo Sinfonia comes with Eliasson's Concerto for Violin, Piano, and Orchestra, another recent and significant work I am delighted to have discovered. For that reason, both discs are equally and seriously recommended.
Philip Scott