Luciano Berio, "Chemins III"
Notes From RCA LSC-3168:
The three compositions on this record were written in 1968 in response to Walter Trampler's request for a piece for viola and orchestra. They are not a sketchbook for a concerto; rather, they represent a stepwise approach toward the viola-orchestra texture. Sequenza VI for viola solo becomes the basis of Chemins II, in which the viola is surrounded by a chamber ensemble; then Chemins II becomes the basis of Chemins III, in which the orchestra is added. (Chemins I, completed in 1965, follows a similar procedure by adding an orchestra to Sequenza II for harp solo.)
But Chemins III is rather surprising if one expects a concerto sound. Walter Trampler's extraordinary, Paganini-esque performance of Sequenza VI is not featured; instead, the surrounding instruments extend the material from Sequenza to the point where the viola often seems absorbed, though it remains the source of the work. (Paganini refused to play Berlioz' Harold in Italy because he thought the viola part wasn't sufficiently prominent; one shudders to think what his reaction might have been to his role in Chemins II or III.)
As Berio has said, "the three pieces relate to each other something like the layers of an onion: distinct, separate, yet intimately contoured on each other; each new layer creates a new, though related, surface, and each older layer assumes a new function as soon as it is covered."
Rather like an etude, Sequenza VI focuses on a single problem: the development of a kind of polyphony of different textures. Escaping the monodic limitations of various instruments has been a central feature in all of Berio's solo sequenze. In Sequenza III, for voice, there is a polyphony of different "vocal gestures" (laughing, crying, gasping, and so on); Sequenza IV, for piano, centers around the interplay between what is being played on the keyboard and harmonies held by the sostenuto pedal, while Sequenza V, for trombone, explores a polyphony of vocal vs. instrumental sounds.
So the instruments superimposed on Sequenza VI to form Chemins II are intended as an extension of the viola part. The tremolo that dominates much of Sequenza becomes flutter-tongue in the wind instruments, rolls on the percussion instruments and tremolo in the other strings; it also becomes sustained chords, which reflect its continuous aspect. Rapid, irregular figures dwelling on specific harmonies appear as extensions of what might be called "distributional tremolo," a technique by which the violist distributes tremolo over the four notes of the chords opening Sequenza (where it would be impracticable to sustain tremolo on all four strings at once). A slowed-down version of this technique occurs at the end of the three pieces, where the viola seems to suspend a chord in space by irregularly but repeatedly touching separate portions of it.
But the process by which Chemins II grows out of Sequenza VI is neither chronological nor conversational (as it tends to be in concertos): the ensemble doesn't react to Sequenza bit by bit as it goes along, extending only what the viola has presented. Many features of Sequenza are introduced by the ensemble well before the viola has stated them. To mention two examples: figures growing out of the distributional technique described above already pervade the ensemble before the viola shares them, and the trombone introduces glissandi long before they appear in Sequenza.
It is as if the extension of Sequenza VI takes place outside of time. The viola part has been transformed by its new surroundings from a time-dependent exploration of shifting contours and spaces into a time-independent object, any part of which can be taken up by the surroundings at any time. In a sense, all of Sequenza VI is simultaneously present through much of Chemins II, as if Sequenza were a painting or, better, a sculpture. The result is that parts of Chemins II have a peculiarly stationary quality.
But the use of the orchestra in Chemins III partially restores the temporal aspect of Sequenza. Much of the orchestra's role consists of punctuating chords, which by themselves recall the passage of time and restore a sense of motion where Chemins II seemed stationary; also, the timing of these chords depends on certain harmonic points basic to the structure of Sequenza VI. So the viola part has recovered some of the temporal dependence it had in Sequenza and which was played down in Chemins II.
And Chemins II is transformed by its new surroundings: the unitextural, tight-fisted chamber ensemble is suddenly set off in an expanded space of far less density. One thinks of the transformation in our perception of the earth brought about by the first photographs of it from halfway to the moon.
This shifting of roles, the perception of relationships between objects and their contexts, the awareness of how they act on each other, is a source of meaning. This kind of meaning is also explored in the third movement of Berio's Sinfonia, where the Scherzo of Mahler's Second Symphony is treated much as Sequenza VI is treated in Chemins II and III. The Mahler undergoes constant transformation through the juxtaposition of shifting contexts, which are viewed as extension of the basic material.
Susan Berio, commenting on Chemins I, for harp and orchestra, develops the idea this way: ". . . everything we do extends and comments on something else . . . in that vast proliferation of paths that gives inevitable rise to more paths, each splitting its destiny into a web of trunks and branches, twigs and sub-twigs. And our place is here, on the sub-est of the sub-twigs, regarding the still burgeoning lines of meanings that can only be traced back or maybe forward, because forward they are still .nosing their three-million-nosed way, trying three million paths in the certainty that a dozen will lead elsewhere than to intersections with the other two million plus. . . ."
Extension and relation. Perhaps a single action or a single piece of music by itself is without meaning. Perhaps it is only through the manipulation of contexts that meaning can be developed. Awareness of each of the three pieces on this record transforms one's awareness of the others. On just one level: Sequenza VI is potentially Chemins II and Chemins III; Chemins II is extended, detemporalized Sequenza VI but potentially Chemins III; Chemins III is extended Chemins II, retemporalized Sequenza VI but potentially. . .
-STEPHEN MORRIS
The three compositions on this record were written in 1968 in response to Walter Trampler's request for a piece for viola and orchestra. They are not a sketchbook for a concerto; rather, they represent a stepwise approach toward the viola-orchestra texture. Sequenza VI for viola solo becomes the basis of Chemins II, in which the viola is surrounded by a chamber ensemble; then Chemins II becomes the basis of Chemins III, in which the orchestra is added. (Chemins I, completed in 1965, follows a similar procedure by adding an orchestra to Sequenza II for harp solo.)
But Chemins III is rather surprising if one expects a concerto sound. Walter Trampler's extraordinary, Paganini-esque performance of Sequenza VI is not featured; instead, the surrounding instruments extend the material from Sequenza to the point where the viola often seems absorbed, though it remains the source of the work. (Paganini refused to play Berlioz' Harold in Italy because he thought the viola part wasn't sufficiently prominent; one shudders to think what his reaction might have been to his role in Chemins II or III.)
As Berio has said, "the three pieces relate to each other something like the layers of an onion: distinct, separate, yet intimately contoured on each other; each new layer creates a new, though related, surface, and each older layer assumes a new function as soon as it is covered."
Rather like an etude, Sequenza VI focuses on a single problem: the development of a kind of polyphony of different textures. Escaping the monodic limitations of various instruments has been a central feature in all of Berio's solo sequenze. In Sequenza III, for voice, there is a polyphony of different "vocal gestures" (laughing, crying, gasping, and so on); Sequenza IV, for piano, centers around the interplay between what is being played on the keyboard and harmonies held by the sostenuto pedal, while Sequenza V, for trombone, explores a polyphony of vocal vs. instrumental sounds.
So the instruments superimposed on Sequenza VI to form Chemins II are intended as an extension of the viola part. The tremolo that dominates much of Sequenza becomes flutter-tongue in the wind instruments, rolls on the percussion instruments and tremolo in the other strings; it also becomes sustained chords, which reflect its continuous aspect. Rapid, irregular figures dwelling on specific harmonies appear as extensions of what might be called "distributional tremolo," a technique by which the violist distributes tremolo over the four notes of the chords opening Sequenza (where it would be impracticable to sustain tremolo on all four strings at once). A slowed-down version of this technique occurs at the end of the three pieces, where the viola seems to suspend a chord in space by irregularly but repeatedly touching separate portions of it.
But the process by which Chemins II grows out of Sequenza VI is neither chronological nor conversational (as it tends to be in concertos): the ensemble doesn't react to Sequenza bit by bit as it goes along, extending only what the viola has presented. Many features of Sequenza are introduced by the ensemble well before the viola has stated them. To mention two examples: figures growing out of the distributional technique described above already pervade the ensemble before the viola shares them, and the trombone introduces glissandi long before they appear in Sequenza.
It is as if the extension of Sequenza VI takes place outside of time. The viola part has been transformed by its new surroundings from a time-dependent exploration of shifting contours and spaces into a time-independent object, any part of which can be taken up by the surroundings at any time. In a sense, all of Sequenza VI is simultaneously present through much of Chemins II, as if Sequenza were a painting or, better, a sculpture. The result is that parts of Chemins II have a peculiarly stationary quality.
But the use of the orchestra in Chemins III partially restores the temporal aspect of Sequenza. Much of the orchestra's role consists of punctuating chords, which by themselves recall the passage of time and restore a sense of motion where Chemins II seemed stationary; also, the timing of these chords depends on certain harmonic points basic to the structure of Sequenza VI. So the viola part has recovered some of the temporal dependence it had in Sequenza and which was played down in Chemins II.
And Chemins II is transformed by its new surroundings: the unitextural, tight-fisted chamber ensemble is suddenly set off in an expanded space of far less density. One thinks of the transformation in our perception of the earth brought about by the first photographs of it from halfway to the moon.
This shifting of roles, the perception of relationships between objects and their contexts, the awareness of how they act on each other, is a source of meaning. This kind of meaning is also explored in the third movement of Berio's Sinfonia, where the Scherzo of Mahler's Second Symphony is treated much as Sequenza VI is treated in Chemins II and III. The Mahler undergoes constant transformation through the juxtaposition of shifting contexts, which are viewed as extension of the basic material.
Susan Berio, commenting on Chemins I, for harp and orchestra, develops the idea this way: ". . . everything we do extends and comments on something else . . . in that vast proliferation of paths that gives inevitable rise to more paths, each splitting its destiny into a web of trunks and branches, twigs and sub-twigs. And our place is here, on the sub-est of the sub-twigs, regarding the still burgeoning lines of meanings that can only be traced back or maybe forward, because forward they are still .nosing their three-million-nosed way, trying three million paths in the certainty that a dozen will lead elsewhere than to intersections with the other two million plus. . . ."
Extension and relation. Perhaps a single action or a single piece of music by itself is without meaning. Perhaps it is only through the manipulation of contexts that meaning can be developed. Awareness of each of the three pieces on this record transforms one's awareness of the others. On just one level: Sequenza VI is potentially Chemins II and Chemins III; Chemins II is extended, detemporalized Sequenza VI but potentially Chemins III; Chemins III is extended Chemins II, retemporalized Sequenza VI but potentially. . .
-STEPHEN MORRIS
Labels: Avant Garde Project, jodru, Luciano Berio
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