5) Again, he has stated that the most radical work a North American composer could write would be one like Brahms's Fourth Symphony, which assumed the most highly-developed musical culture in its auditors. He is clearly a man after our own heart!
Interesting. Somewhat related to this may be my observations about a concert with Wuorinen's Eighth Symphony, Brahms Fourth Symphony, conservatism and progressivity that I posted elsewhere shortly after the event:
World premiere of Wuorinen’s Eighth Symphony, concert 02-17-07, BostonConcert:
1. Haydn, Symphony # 22, “The Philosopher”
2. Wuorinen, Eighth Symphony
Pause
3. Brahms, Fourth symphony
Boston Symphony Orchestra, conductor: James Levine
The Haydn symphony that opened the concert was very enjoyable and appeared quite experimental. At many moments, the musical imagination of the composer was stunning.
The Eighth Symphony by Wuorinen is in three movements, fast – slow – fast, with a duration of about 30 minutes. The first movement showed strong impetus. There was an interesting contrast between the finely ciseled, nuanced playing of most of the instruments and the broad strokes of sound from the brass section. The harmonies of the brass sounds were pungent, which added to the contrast with the more mellow sounds coming from the other orchestral groups (this sound signature was strongly reminiscent of the composer’s third piano concerto, written more than 20 years ago). There was a continuum of pulse, yet not based on regular rhythm. Somehow, myriads of contrasting short gestures answered each other in such a way that a fluid texture of steady momentum was created – impressive.
The second, slow movement was an instant favorite of mine from the very beginning. In the delicate meshing of sound colors of strings and woodwinds at the onset, creating a lucid texture, Wuorinen showed once more what a brilliant colorist he is. The music’s organic, ever varying flow drew me in tremendously. There was a lot of filigree in the gestural fabric. The bandwidth of the harmonic palette became even more extreme, stretched between some moments of genuinely sweet, yet not sugary, sounding textures in the strings, and other moments later in the movement where the aforementioned pungent brass textures kicked in.
The third, again fast, movement began with a hushed yet very busy texture, played piano or even pianissimo – this was a kind of texture that already appeared in the slow movement at a few places, but now took stable centerstage. Gradually, the busy texture of the music swelled to fortissimo towards the end, where finally the brass unleashed its energy in broad planes of sound, built from alternating, held fortissimo chords that, again, were pungent and burning.
Impressive as the music was, I could not stop constantly thinking that this work of hardcore modernism was really traditional-sounding music. Yes, even modernism builds its own tradition, and this work seemed very much written in a now overly familiar language. In that sense, there were no surprises or any “revolutionary” gesture. Perhaps I have listened to too much Stockhausen in recent years, but in comparison to Stockhausen’s constant innovation, which almost always makes a new work by the composer seem to be on the cutting edge (up to and including his most recent music), this work by Wuorinen appeared quite traditional and, dare I say it, safe – not that by any means this is a judgement about the music’s quality, I just did not particularly feel transported to new exciting musical horizons, except maybe to some degree in the second movement (to be honest, I have the same feeling with a lot of Carter after about the mid-Seventies; if I think of Wuorinen in terms of cutting-edge, it rather would have to be a work like his fourth string quartet from 2000). Nonetheless, the music’s quality and promises made me strongly wish to hear it again, and I think this should be compliment enough, and testimony to the music’s strength. Also, perhaps a second listening might make me change my mind about the music’s innovation.
After the pause we heard the Fourth Symphony of Brahms in a superb and flawless performance (already in tackling the difficult Wuorinen score the orchestra had been imposing). And guess what, on the occasion
this music really blew me away. I was quite familiar with the work, but I had not listened to it for over a decade. With fresh ears and in this live setting, as well as with ears sharpened to the issue of innovation by the Wuorinen experience, this symphony now seemed to me very much cutting-edge – of course, I do not know the entire musical environment in which this work was written, which would include the contributions of all the lesser masters of the time, but I can hardly imagine that up to this point anything had been written that foreshadowed any of the many textures and details that struck me as tremendously innovative. And also in terms of the music that was written after, the work appeared unique. The irony of course is that Brahms is often viewed as a “traditionalist” (a notion which, I think, Schoenberg already refuted), whereas Wuorinen is seen as a “hardcore progressivist”.
I was struck by the novel and complex rhythms, the novel thematic treatment, the superb structuring, the refined orchestral colors (did I hear anyone say that Brahms sounds “grey”?) and by many transitions between sections within the movements which were composed with utter finesse and overwhelming musical imagination that, indeed, were pure genius. In fact, all the time I could not stop thinking what an extraordinarily sophisticated composer Brahms was.
You know what: I came for the Wuorinen, and it did not disappoint me, but the truly sensational music of the evening appeared to be the Brahms.
My wife’s reaction: she loved the Haydn (a favorite composer of hers), found the Wuorinen boring (she had liked Carter’s Sinfonia better), and she loooooved the Brahms, a composer whose music she hardly knew.
