From time to time I like to keep my hand in by compiling the odd review of a classical record. For someone who is not a musician, knows little of the orchestra and find reviewing instrumental albums tricky at best, this is quite a challenge and I like to set it for myself now and again, not only to open up the genres explored here in the Playlist, and to remind myself of music I listen to for pleasure but don't often review, but also as a test of sorts for myself. I've been getting --- thank you all --- some high praise for my recent review of “Born to run”, and while it's very welcome, the review of any album is not a huge matter: you listen to the lyrics, you describe the music, you strive to see the picture or the story the songwriter is trying to create and you interpret and explain that as best you can, trying to build up a picture of what you think the album means.
As those not-quite-so-cute-as-they-should-be meerkats say, simples.
But when it comes to a classical album, throw those fish out of that particular kettle and fetch a new one, because it's a new game altogether. Unless you're talking about opera, or the very odd vocal/choral work, classical music as a genre is by its very nature instrumental. It's written in movements, sinatras --- sorry, sonatas! --- concertos and symphonies, and there are no words. It's something of a challenge then, I feel, to get across the emotions and ideas this music stirs up in you, and to try to figure out what the composer was trying to do, trying to say, when he wrote it. It's music that is literally timeless, and echoes back across the gulf of centuries, yet never sounds old or dated, and much of it continues to crop up in incidental music, film scores and the ubiquitous advertisements and commercials.
And it's precisely because it has lasted so long that I feel I personally owe it to my favourite composers to pay attention to, and perhaps bring the attention of others to their work. But it's quite an undertaking. I think I've reviewed three classical albums here --- three, in over four years --- and each one of them has been something of a struggle to me. But none, I fear, so much as this one promises to be.
I was reminded of one of the pieces when Rexx Shredd suggested Electric Light Orchestra's “On the third day” for my Christmas list, and I remembered that it was ELO's version on that album of “In the hall of the Mountain King” that first got me interested in Grieg. I say interested, but in truth I never got that much into the rest of his work, though I of course got to know “Morning”, as just about everyone does. But it gave me the idea to seek out the full composition, and this is what I now intend to attempt to review.
Note: As I have pointed out before, I am not very familiar with orchestras, and though I could tell a violin from a cello, I could not distinguish between a violin and a viola, or a trumpet and trombone. So I will be guessing at what instrument is playing at any given point. Sometimes I may get it right, but most times I will probably just make a mess of it. Bear with me and don't judge me: I'm doing my best.
Peer Gynt --- Edvard Grieg --- 1876
The thing about Peer Gynt is that most recordings of it are an abridged version --- the two suites only --- and I wanted to (God knows why!) look into the whole thing. It is, in case you don't (and you may not) know, the score to a play by Norwegian playwright Henrik Ibsen, which premiered in Oslo (then called Christiania) in 1876. The play itself is a little odd, and can probably be open to various interpretations, but generally seems to follow the adventures of a young boy, the title character, who is left with his mother destitute after the death of their father. Peer has several chances to make his life better but seems to avoid responsibility, and in the end, as he lies dying, well I don't really know how it ends. It all seems a bit vague, as these things often are.
But the important part of course is the music, and that was all written by Edvard Grieg (1843-1907), who later as I say extracted four movements from it. As I mentioned, I originally wanted to do the whole thing – all fifty-one tracks! --- but I found out fairly quickly that much of those are merely spoken word parts of the play, and as this is in Norwegian there is little point in my trying to review them, so somewhat reluctantly I've fallen back on plan “B”, which is to review the two suites on their own.
The first suite opens with a piece most of us are familiar with, one of Grieg's most famous, best-loved and well known compositions, as “Morning Mood”, usually shortened to just “Morning”, flows out of the speakers like a calm, soft river or indeed the sun itself rising, flute taking the main melody as it winds along like a snake or a swirl of smoke, violins softly adding their voices until the whole thing swells on rolling percussion and the phrase repeats again, slightly altered with the addition of a few chords but essentially the same melody. It climbs until it reaches a crescendo and then descends on soft oboe with the violins and cellos still in attendance, and getting stronger as the piece continues. Now the oboe takes the melody solo for a short moment, before swirling violins slide downwards and the oboe drops an octave, allowing the violins then to take the tune before flute comes chirruping back in, the whole thing then building again as the flute and oboe trade licks. Flute then takes the tune, then oboe, both playing the same melody, until the cellos finish the piece with a flourish.
Things are much darker and more dour then for “Death of Åse”, as Peer Gynt's mother lies on her deathbed, dolorous cello and violin calling the tune, a slow, stately, dramatic rhythm. The intensity increases then, with what could be choral voices very low (or may not be), no percussion yet, the cellos creating their own, the whole thing very stark and powerful. A lighter violin takes the melody solo for a moment, descending as if in deference to the dying woman, almost fading out completely, again perhaps representing the dying breath of Peer Gynt's mother. Very slowly now, dropping in volume more as the end approaches, the piece fades away like a whisper or a final breath.
“Anitra's dance” is a much more uptempo arrangement, and again may be familiar to casual listeners. I've definitely heard it before but did not know it was Grieg. With
pizzicato violin and then a waltyz stronger violin and cello it swirls about, tip-tapping here and there before it takes on a proper shape for the melody, then coming up strongly as the dance reaches its climax with a lovely lilting, swaying, flowing melody carried by the violins, violas and cellos.
The ELO-covered piece then is next, and “In the hall of the Mountain King” starts off with sort of slow marching trumpet, deep bassoon and picked violin. It's one of those pieces that builds up to a furious climax as it goes, getting faster and more insistent as it moves along. Flute gets more peppy, more involved,
pizzicato violin comes in and suddenly an army of cellos and violins, backed by thunderous drumming, is running at top speed through the tune, with some heavy drumbeats, screeching violins and a final rolled drumbeat, it's out and over. And so is suite one.
Suite two begins with “The abduction of the bride: Ingrid's lament”, and it's a fast, uptempo opening on sprightly violin and percussion but then settles down into a slower groove, as you would expect from something bearing the title of lament, as cellos and violins slowly draw the melody across the listener's ear. Oboes and clarinets now join in, raising the pitch of the music and giving it an extra dramatic flair. Big, rolling, thundering percussion trundles across the tune and the violins swell to meet it, then everything drops back almost to silence before the crashing roll of drums brings back the opening sequence, which repeats and then fades out, taking us into “Arabian dance”, with a high, cheery flute then crashing cymbals and woodwinds joined by bassoon and French Horn that successfully paint a scene out of the east.
A triumphant, marching rhythm takes the tune, then drops back to a stately, grand waltz before picking up again with a bouncing rhythm, the flutes coming back in and joined by the cellos, then the powerful drums and trombones and trumpets take it towards its conclusion, and into “Peer Gynt's Homecoming (Stormy evening on the sea)” with a punchy violin and flute introduction, oboe adding to the tune as rolling percussion crashes. Rising and descending flute and violin accompanied by echoing drumwork mimics the stormy sea as Peer Gynt tries to make his way home, a slow, doleful flute ending the piece and ushering in the finale, “Solveig's song”.
Gently rolling violin gives way to what may be an acoustic guitar, or may not, and the final piece is a slow, soft, lush little piece which, while not in the same league as “Morning”, is nevertheless a compelling melody and indeed, the longest of the two suites, at just under six minutes. There's certainly a note of tragedy and drama in the music, but a lot of tenderness too, as Solveig pleads on behalf of her husband, who lies dying. The music swells, falls back, swells, falls back, like the very sea itself, or perhaps the ebb and flow of life. It's tinged with sadness of course, as Solveig holds her dying love, realising he has never managed to justify himself to the world, or to himself, and that it is now too late. As you might expect, the piece fades down slowly until it just dies away.
TRACKLISTING
SUITE I
1. Morning mood
2. Death of Åse
3. Anrita's dance
4. In the hall of the Mountain King
SUITE II
1. The abduction of the bride: Ingrid's lament
2. Arabian dance
3. Peer Gynt's homecoming (Stormy evening at sea)
4. Solveig's song
Too often, classical music is derided and dismissed as “boring” by people who should really know better. Most of our rock, pop, and other music is after all based on this genre, and if you watch the television or go to movies the chances are that you've heard at least one piece of classical music in your life. True, not all of it is to everyone's taste --- chamber music can be very hard to listen to, and I don't like opera at all --- but much of it is very listenable and, if you give it a chance, you can discover some amazing music that's only been out there waiting for you for the last three or four hundred years.
I don't believe I would be interested in Peer Gynt the play: it seems very confused, with mixed messages and an ambiguous and ultimately unsatisfying ending. But there's no doubt that the music from it is definitely worth listening to. It may not evoke the same images for you as it does me, in some cases not even the correct ones --- “Morning mood” was apparently written to convey the situation of Peer Gynt up a tree in a desert, but we all associate it now with sunrise, flower petals opening, birds flying across the sky --- but I would be mightily surprised if listening to it did not make some sort of impression on you.
Even if it was only to try listening to that ELO album again...