Bohuslav Martinů (1890-1959)

[just Jeff]

That is nice!

Thanks Snyprr!  I have another one here, just a minute.....

-J

[just Jeff]

another rather nice one..... Supraphon 1014

don't you think?

[Archaic Torso of Apollo]

for those wondering what this composer is about

Found this article in the Guardian. This is probably the best short appreciation of Martinu that I have come across (one or two quibbles notwithstanding), so I think it's worth posting here. It hits all the important points, I think:

Fanfare for the uncommon man

Anthony Bateman The Guardian, Friday 27 March 2009

Purcell, Handel, Haydn and Mendelssohn are being celebrated this year. And rightly so. But there's another composer whose anniversary also falls in 2009, and who, more than any of the above, deserves some much overdue exposure.

Bohuslav Martinů, who died 50 years ago, wrote more than 400 works of every type and genre. For some critics, herein lies the problem. His output, they say, is uneven (as if every work by Beethoven or Shostakovich were a masterpiece). Even more unjustified is a critical habit of labelling Martinů derivative, a charge that wilfully overlooks the composer's striking originality.

As the Czech principal conductor of the BBC Symphony Orchestra, Jiří Bělohlávek explains: "I think the richness of styles in Martinů's work is due to his inextinguishable thirst for novelty and inspiration, and his ability to extract from many sources the right amount of elements into his own musical language. Martinů is also probably the most prolific Czech composer and, of course, you can find different levels of genius among them. But at his best, he is irresistibly original, cosmopolitan and Czech in one stroke."

Martinů's life was as remarkable as his music. He was born in 1890 in Polička in the Bohemian-Moravian highlands, where his father was a cobbler, firewatcher and church bellringer. The family home was an apartment in the church tower and Bohuslav, a sickly child, seldom left its lofty confines for his first 12 years. His unusual childhood hugely influenced both his worldview and his often expansive music. He later described looking out from the tower upon a "vast and boundless space I am always searching for in my music".

His search began in Prague where, despite being expelled from the music conservatory for "incorrigible negligence", he went on to work as a second violinist in the Czech Philharmonic. Here he was exposed to the works of Debussy, who became a huge influence on his early compositions such as the dreamy, exotic song cycle Nipponari. At the same time, as the patriotic cantata Czech Rhapsody shows, Martinů consciously positioned himself within the Czech nationalist tradition of Smetana, Dvořák and Josef Suk (with whom he briefly studied). The creative tension between Martinů's profound Czechness and more cosmopolitan influences continued throughout his life, and provides a key to his wonderfully quirky musical language.

In 1923 Martinů moved to Paris. He immersed himself in all the latest avant-garde developments: dadaism, cubism, surrealism and, inevitably, the music of Stravinsky. Works from his early years in Paris include a surrealist opera, The Tears of the Knife, and a jazzy ballet score, La Revue de Cuisine, which features dancing kitchen utensils. Martinů's keen humour was also evident in The Revolt, a ballet in which musical notes call a strike, critics commit suicide and Stravinsky takes refuge on a desert island before a Moravian folk song saves the day.

For many of his compatriots, Martinů had become a French composer, but from the early 30s, he increasingly returned to his Czech roots for inspiration. Martinů loved visiting the landscapes of his childhood, where he became reacquainted with Bohemian and Moravian folk song. The stunningly beautiful adagio of his First Cello Concerto, for example, is liberally imbued with Czech folk melodies.

Martinů's instrumental masterpiece of the late 1930s is the Double Concerto for Two String Orchestras, Piano and Timpani. This intense, highly wrought work reflects the two overriding tensions in the composer's life at the time: love for his young composition pupil, Vítězslava Kaprálová and fears of the impending Nazi occupation. Written at the Swiss home of his benefactor, Paul Sacher, this momentous piece was completed on the day of the Munich Agreement. Its first movement is replete with jazz rhythms, restless syncopations and free polyphony; the second is both defiant and phantasmal, as if evoking the shadow of nazism; and the third is a stirring, hymn-like address to the Czechs, bidding them courage in the face of oppression. The composer Arthur Honegger, who attended its Basle premiere, was stunned by its visceral appeal.

The same period produced the operatic masterpiece, Julietta, a work Bělohlávek conducts in a concert performance at the Barbican tonight. It is a surreal affair set in a town where "the thread of memory has been cut" and only one character has any sense of the past. Martinů's treatment of the subject is an enchanting, dreamlike fantasy, notable for its rhythmic variety, shifting harmonic textures and clearly etched vocal lines.

Bělohlávek regards the work as one of the composer's greatest achievements: "In Julietta, Martinů was not only able to build and sustain the necessary dramatic thread of the surrealist story and libretto, but did so using his unique musical language with a brilliance and skill that can only fill us with admiration. His harmonic material is one of free tonality and the orchestration is very varied, witty and dramatically to the point. His use of piano in the orchestra is also significant. The spoken word also takes on an interesting role, with the composer using it in place of recitative ... For me, the most important quality is the fact that, despite the very exquisite and fantastical world already contained in the synopsis, it is Martinů's music that blends all the elements together and makes the opera a masterpiece."

Magdalena Kožená, a fine interpreter of Martinů's rich legacy of songs, takes the title role. "I have a very strong relationship with Martinů's music," she says, "Like many Czech singers, his songs were some of the first I learned. He was certainly influenced by jazz and French music, but he never effaced his Czech roots; there's a strong Slavic flavour to every melody." Of the role of Julietta - one Kožená likens to that of Debussy's Mélisande - she says: "I thought I'd never sing the role because it's really a soprano part, and if it were very much longer, it would be impossible. One thing that's special about this piece is the way the music builds up to very lyrical moments involving large orchestral forces, and then suddenly, everything stops and you're left with a simple vocal line and no accompaniment. Sure, the story is crazy, but that's another reason I love it."

After 1938, Martinů never set foot in Czechoslovakia again. In 1940, with the German army only days away from Paris, he and his French wife, Charlotte, fled to the US. Now in his early 50s, Martinů had yet to write a symphony, but America was to give the composer a fresh creative spur. The five symphonies that followed at yearly intervals - and the extraordinary, otherworldly sixth, written seven years later - occupy a crucial position in Martinů's oeuvre and established his reputation in the US as the "20th-century Dvořák".

Bělohlávek who, with the BBC Symphony Orchestra, will present a complete cycle of the symphonies at the Barbican next season, explains the importance of the venture. "Every time the orchestra and I have encountered Martinů's music," he says, "both musicians and listeners have been surprised at the richness and variety of his musical language. The first five symphonies were written in a relatively short period of time, yet each one has a distinctive character. For today's orchestras, there are no great technical problems, although there's a need to recognise and emphasise certain melodic shapes within Martinů's seemingly mechanical rhythmical patterns. For the audience though, there's really only one challenge: to be eager enough to discover the extraordinary world of Martinů's music."

This summer, a Martinů gem from the last years of his life, the delightful comic opera Mirandolina, receives its British premiere at Garsington Opera. "This anniversary year gives an ideal opportunity to raise his profile," says the company's general director, Anthony Whitworth-Jones. "Martinů's best works stand up to comparison with Janáček, his great compatriot." Martin André, who will conduct the opera, offers an even more intriguing comparison: "Martinů didn't fit into any box - Mirandolina is really a 20th-century version of The Barber of Seville with a punky orchestration."

Later works, such as his Fifth Piano Concerto, The Parables and The Frescoes of Piero della Francesca, reveal a freer, more rhapsodic style. Mark Elder, who recently conducted the last work with the London Philharmonic Orchestra, is a fan of this lustrous, richly textured orchestral triptych. "It is fascinatingly immediate music, harmonically spicy, melodic and very Czech," he says. "I can hear various influences but I don't have a problem with that; it only means that when Martinů's own voice emerges, it's even more striking."

But the last word and plea for his music to remain in the spotlight must go to Martinů himself. "Music must be beautiful," he wrote "or it wouldn't be worth the effort."

http://www.guardian.co.uk/music/2009/mar/27/bohuslav-martinu-czech-composer

[karlhenning]

Very nice, thanks, Velimir.

[SonicMan46]

Very nice, thanks, Velimir.

Agree - thanks for the link; a nice synopsis of Martinu's life and variety of works - now listening to a recent acquisition:

[The new erato]

This set arrived today!

[DavidW]

I have considered Martinů to be a bland neoromantic composer.  But of late I had been listening to the 2nd and 6th symphonies, and while the 2nd fits that description, the 6th symphony is really darned good!  It has a dark, deep character to it and doesn't sound like Vaughan Williams filtered through Dvorak either.  Can any one think of other Martinů works that I might enjoy?

[not edward]

I have considered Martinů to be a bland neoromantic composer.  But of late I had been listening to the 2nd and 6th symphonies, and while the 2nd fits that description, the 6th symphony is really darned good!  It has a dark, deep character to it and doesn't sound like Vaughan Williams filtered through Dvorak either.  Can any one think of other Martinů works that I might enjoy?

4th piano concerto, (ideally with Firkusny playing), has much of the rhapsodic character of the 6th symphony and a similar depth.
Other 'dark' Martinu you might consider: Double Concerto, 5th string quartet, Concerto da camera (the one for piano, violin and string orchestra, not the subtitle of the 7th quartet), Memorial to Lidice.

[Mirror Image]

I have considered Martinů to be a bland neoromantic composer.

It's pretty presumptuous of you to assume that Martinu was a Neo-Romantic. He was far from being a Romantic. If you would examine his music more in depth you will realize this.

[DavidW]

Thanks Edward!

[Dancing Divertimentian]

I have considered Martinů to be a bland neoromantic composer.  But of late I had been listening to the 2nd and 6th symphonies, and while the 2nd fits that description, the 6th symphony is really darned good!  It has a dark, deep character to it and doesn't sound like Vaughan Williams filtered through Dvorak either.  Can any one think of other Martinů works that I might enjoy?

David, Martinu is the anti-neo-romantic. Although if the wrong performer gets hold of his music he might come off sounding like a neo-romantic!

I'd say grab his string quartets FIRST! Go for the Panocha set we talked about at length a couple pages ago. Chamber music is the heart of Martinu, then branch out to Edward's list.

[Scarpia]

David, Martinu is the anti-neo-romantic. Although if the wrong performer gets hold of his music he might come off sounding like a neo-romantic!

I'd say grab his string quartets FIRST! Go for the Panocha set we talked about at length a couple pages ago. Chamber music is the heart of Martinu, then branch out to Edward's list.

I generally agree.  Chamber music is central, and some of the greatest music is in the concerti for various instruments.  There is a disc of music conducted by Conlon that I mentioned on this thread somewhere that I really enjoyed.

[DavidW]

I'd say grab his string quartets FIRST! Go for the Panocha set we talked about at length a couple pages ago. Chamber music is the heart of Martinu, then branch out to Edward's list.

I've already been down the chamber music road before, it's mostly bland.

[Dancing Divertimentian]

...and some of the greatest music is in the concerti for various instruments.  There is a disc of music conducted by Conlon that I mentioned on this thread somewhere that I really enjoyed.

Ah, yes, this one:





I meant to comment on this disc earlier but kept forgetting. I have it also and agree it's marvelous.

[Archaic Torso of Apollo]

hi there David 

The darkest symphony by quite some margin is #3 - surprised no one's mentioned it. It's also very dramatic. Otherwise I think Edward's recs are all good ones.

I've already been down the chamber music road before, it's mostly bland.

I have a vague memory of you reacting that way to the 4tets. With the exception of #5, I don't rank them among his best works. Some great non-4tet chamber works are the cello sonatas, the Nonet, and the piano quintets (esp. #2).

[Now time for me to log off, leave the hotel and go back to exploring Paris - Martinu's home for 17 years]

[karlhenning]

Yikes, do I see a list of 16 operas?

What do our resident Martinů experts consider the "top three" (which I am guessing will include Julietta)?

[karlhenning]

I have a vague memory of you [DavidW] reacting that way to the 4tets. With the exception of #5, I don't rank them among his best works. Some great non-4tet chamber works are the cello sonatas, the Nonet, and the piano quintets (esp. #2).

There's a kind of quiet modesty to most of the quartets, and much of the piano music.  If one is looking for Major Utterance there (to rival, say, the Bartók quartets or Prokofiev's piano music), one may miss the simple charm of the music . . . part of the message must be, that there's still room for simple (and just plain good) music-making even in the 20^th century.

Interestingly, I am thinking along similar lines with the Hindemith piano sonatas.

[karlhenning]

Took me long enough, I know . . . but I've pulled the trigger on Gilgamesh).

[Lethevich]

@ Karl: though I'm far from expert, the later the better I find - although I have only heard half of them ;_:

Ariane (a small gem) and the Greek Passion I would probably add with Julietta - The Marriage is also very fine.

[karlhenning]

@ Karl: though I'm far from expert, the later the better I find - although I have only heard half of them ;_:

I haven't heard the first or second quartet, Sara; but the third already has sufficient character to it that I have no complaint with it ; )

Ariane (a small gem) and the Greek Passion I would probably add with Julietta - The Marriage is also very fine.

Thanks!