Penderecki on the art of dancing on violin strings

Krzysztof Penderecki has had a very long, storied career, pioneering Avant-Garde music in Poland right after Stalin and his artistic policies died and further distinguishing himself from there.  Unlike a lot of composers, however, Penderecki's music only got more accessible as it went on.  His most well-known work is the Threnody for the Victims of Hiroshima* for string orchestra, using space/time notation instead of meter and a variety of lines instead of notes to striking effect:

As the years rolled by and the Scene changed Penderecki's urge to experiment waned in the face of a career in no need of being proven to colleagues.  You might remember this part of his much later Symphony no. 3 from a little movie called Shutter Island, part of a fine line of horror movies since The Exorcist to rely on Avant-Garde composers for soundtrack bits:

Penderecki has long been associated with my old favorite composer Witold Lutoslawski, not just because they spearheaded the Warsaw Autumn festival as well as making Poland a major international voice in contemporary Classical music, but also because they both had an interest in using cutting-edge techniques to create music out of pure gesture and drama, and this "Passacaglia" movement from the third Symphony is just as in line with that sentiment as the Threnody, though admittedly a bit more...soundtracky. That was in the late 80's, and today we're going to look at a piece he wrote 2009, marking the 4th time we've covered a piece from the 21st century that I didn't write myself.

(Click for larger view)

Much like that the faster of the Tui St. George Tucker pieces we looked at back in March, the Tanz owes a lot to the overarching influence Bartók had on post-WWII music, especially Eastern Bloc countries like Poland, Czechoslovakia and the like.  The Tanz is so conventional compared to stuff like the Threnody and other pieces that will most likely end up on this blog it might as well be Paganini - in fact, it's more like Paganini than Bartók, ain't it?  This Tanz fits in nicely with that Romantic "gypsy" genre that was popular in salons throughout the 19th century and many years of the 20th, using lots of tricky double stops and savage downbows.  These tricks are also deeply ingrained in Eastern European folk music, though usually a bit more Southern than Poland.  I don't know who Janine is, though - any clues?  Penderecki's Wikipedia page gave me no clues.  My guess is a college student, as while this is difficult it's no far cry from a lot of the etudes violinists are given on the collegiate level.  In that same spirit, here's a collegiate-level violinist nearly pulling the piece off.**

~PNK

*The funny thing about the Threnody is that it was originally just called 8'37'', presumably as a nod to Cage.  He only added the Hiroshima reference after hearing the first performance and noticing the emotional resonance of the work, and decided to dedicate it to atomic bomb victims.

**Sorry, I couldn't find a better recording on YouTube.

A Monday Modinha by a Mozart (not that one)

It's always bugged me that Villa-Lobos has remained the sole face of Brazilian classical music for decades, not because I'm an expert in the field but more because I was always a bigger fan of Camargo Guarnieri.  Usually dropping his first name of Mozart (seriously) in his published works, Guarnieri worked closely with Brazilian folk models for much of his music but took a great many technical and expressive risks and added to many a hard-worn genre (symphony, string quartet) with immense creativity and flair.  The piano was his canvas for a great many excellent works and he had a knack for miniatures by themselves and in sets, and his Suite Mirim is a fine and accessible introduction to his work by way of little ivory ticklers.  Cast in four movements, the Suite is based on traditional Brazilian dances, keeping it in line with the traditional point of a suite but not about to fall for the old "allemande" trick.  All four dances ("Ponteado", "Tanguinho", "Modinha" and "Ciradinha") are short but only one has that leafy thinness we so desire at FL, the third.

A modinha is a sentimental love song and likewise the "Modinha" is the most delicate and modest of the four dances, and even just glancing at the first line one can see how well those classes in close-voiced imitative counterpoint payed off.  The reduced volume and thorough craftsmanship allude to sentiments long dead, like faded floral stenciling or an antique photograph of a young bride in a tin box.  It's a little marvel of economy and class and adds a rich heart to a very fleeting set whose harmonies veer into the privately quixotic.  You can hear (and see) the Suite below, and as we enter our second week of nice days here in Western Washington it's nice to remember that we were just recently stuck indoors with mugs of tea - though the more Guarnieri I hear the more I want to swap the tea for a caipirinha.

~PNK