Fabulous Birds
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Stravinsky around 1910.
A few nights ago, having
nothing much better to do, I started to make a list of classical music inspired
by birds. Yes I know, sad but true. Incidentally, I realise if this week’s
title has brought unwholesome thoughts into your mind, the revelation that this
column has merely feathered connections might come as a disappointment, but
that’s how it is. Life can sometimes be a bit of a let-down.
Anyway, back to the
birds. Most classical music doesn’t describe anything at all but some
composers, especially those of the late nineteenth century often turned to
non-musical ideas, particularly those from nature. Even in the eighteenth
century the French composer Louis-Claude Daquin wrote a tinkling harpsichord
piece called The Cuckoo, though you have to listen carefully to hear the
quaint cuckoo imitations.
Bird themes also appear in
Mozart’s opera The Magic Flute and Rossini’s opera The Thieving Magpie.
Tchaikovsky’s ballet Swan Lake has swans by the truck-load. Then of
course, there’s Stravinsky’s wonderful music for The Firebird. This
splendid work was one of the first pieces of classical music I ever discovered.
Igor Stravinsky was a
young and virtually unknown composer when Sergei Diaghilev, the founder of the
Ballets Russes, hired him to compose for the dance company. Stravinsky’s
first project was the music for a ballet based on Russian folk tales about a
legendary and magical glowing bird - The Firebird. With choreography by
Michel Fokine, the fifty-minute ballet was first performed in June 1910 and
turned out to be a huge success with both audience and critics.
Igor Stravinsky (1882-1971): The Firebird (Finale).
Vienna
Philharmonic Orchestra cond. Pierre Boulez
(Duration: 10:54; Video: 720p HD)
The Firebird
was considered a very difficult piece to play. In many ways, it still is. The
first twenty bars for example, are written in the scary key of C flat, enough to
drive most string players into a state of apoplexy. The work is well ahead of
its time but shows a command of the most complex rhythms and there’s wonderful
sparkling orchestration using some techniques which were completely new.
The music not only brought
Stravinsky instant fame, but it also marked the beginning of a fruitful
collaboration between Diaghilev and Stravinsky which resulted two further
ballets Petrushka (1911) and The Rite of Spring (1913),
major works of the early twentieth century.
The Firebird
was written for a massive orchestra (including quadruple woodwind and three
harps), but the composer later made three smaller-scale suites for concert
performance. This recording, conducted by the French composer and conductor
Pierre Boulez is the original 1910 version but it’s just the last ten minutes of
the piece, starting at bar 1,022 – yes, honestly. I have the score in front of
me. Even so, it’s a good taster to sample the exciting flavour of Stravinsky’s
musical style. One of the many magic moments is at 07:41 when, over shimmering
strings, a solo horn announces the noble melody that dominates the heroic final
section, written with seven beats to the bar.
If you want to hear the
entire work, there’s a YouTube video of this same version played by the combined
WDR Sinfonieorchester and the Kölner Philharmonie conducted by Jukka Pekka
Saraste.
Many conductors have
recorded their interpretations of this work. Leopold Stokowski recorded The
Firebird Suite eight times, more than any other conductor. His last
Firebird recording was with the London Symphony Orchestra in 1967 when he
was aged eighty-five.
Ralph Vaughan Williams (1872-1958): The Lark Ascending.
Janine Jansen (vln), BBC Concert Orchestra cond. Barry Wordsworth
(Duration: 15:00; Video: 480p)
The Lark Ascending
was written for violin and piano in 1914 and was orchestrated by the composer
six years later. The first orchestral performance was given in 1921, under the
conductor Adrian Boult and today the work is nearly always heard in this
version. It’s a musical reflection on a poem by the English poet George
Meredith, about the song of a skylark. The title has a pleasing ring to it,
which perhaps wouldn’t have been the case if Meredith had instead written about
the Great Tit or the Little Brown Bustard.
Three years ago, BBC radio
listeners voted the work Britain’s all-time favourite and for several years it
stayed at the top of the Classic FM Hall of Fame. Not surprising really,
because this is lyrical evocative music in which the violin mimics the “silver
chain of sound” that Meredith describes. There’s a wonderful and compelling
sense of place too. It can only be England.
When Vaughan Williams was
making sketches for the piece, he visited Margate for a short holiday – on the
same day that Britain entered the Great War. A small boy observed the composer
making notes and assuming he was writing a secret code, informed a police
officer who promptly arrested the composer for suspicious behaviour.