Philharmonie
Le
Visage nuptial
Anthèmes
2Notations I, III, IV, VII, II (piano and orchestral versions)
Boulez’s Le Visage nuptial remains
a rare feast in every sense. It can certainly rarely have received a more
ravishing performance, even when conducted by the composer. Mojca Edrmann, Anna
Lapkovskaja, and the ladies of the MDR and NDR choruses, under Daniel Barenboim
gave a first-class account, which must surely have won new converts both to
work and composer. There can be few more inviting examples of Boulez’s
Klee-inspired heterophony, geometrical (yet fantastical) surrounding of an ‘orginal’
line with others, even this relatively early work, revisions notwithstanding,
paving the way for later masterpieces such as sur Incises. Perhaps the opening of the first movement, ‘Conduite’,
acts as a primer in miniature for such method; so, at least, did it seem here,
following the opening orchestral éclat,
and the entry of ecstatic female solo voices, Erdmann very much the daring high
soprano, Lapkovskaia’s rich mezzo often suggestive of a true(r) contralto. Shimmering
strings after René Char’s words, ‘O ma Fourche, ma Soif anxieuse’ inevitably
suggested the (post-)coital. Not the least aspect of this work is Boulez’s
remarkably insightful exploration of female sexuality. Brief flowering of Messiaenesque
rhythm in the final stanza both nodded to and expressed distance from Boulez’s
teacher. Post-Debussyan languor was the order of the day in the
beautifully-ordered – how could it be otherwise?! – after-glow of ‘Gravité’.
Barenboim’s shaping and balancing was spot on throughout, the chorus almost
sounding as if a (pre-)electronic halo for solo voices, offering a presentiment
of Anthèmes 2, following the interval.
Messiaen again sprang to mind, again distanced, in the choral writing of the
central ‘Le Visage nuptial’ itself. But soon, Bergian intensity – partly a
matter of the composer’s revisions, partly something that was always there,
even whilst he doubted late Berg’s taste for ‘reconciliation’, partly a matter
of the particular orchestra and conductor – supplemented and questioned that.
Controlled frenzy from the superlative percussion, and the rest of the
orchestra, made for a truly thrilling ride, the sweetness of the Staatskapelle
Berlin violins not the least of these heavenly, yet earthly, delights. After Parsifal the night before, it was as if
Kundry had truly returned – and turned the tables. The subsiding of the
movement prior to its final ecstatic burst was, again, expertly shaped by
Barenboim. ‘Evadné’ offered psalmodic choral chanting as response, with the
final ‘Post-Scriptum’ framing the narrative, such as it is, very nicely with
the return of the excellent soloists. The fragility of the close once again
proved suggestive in every sense.
The Philharmonie proved in
many ways a splendid venue for Anthèmes 2,
the live electronic shadowing of Michael Barenboim’s violin (expertly provided
by Carlo Laurenzi and Jérémie Henriot) a showcase for a crucial aspect of
Boulez’s later style. The kinship between earlier celestial choir and this proved
striking, although Mephistophelian sniping (Liszt’s shadow?) was not to be
denied either. Sweet post-Messiaenesque lines enhanced and were enhanced by
occasional nods to an older, almost viol-like string tradition. This was a
performance of which Barenboim fils
could justly be proud – infinitely superior to the sorry state of Gidon Kremer’s
violin technique three nights later (more on that in a subsequent review).
Barenboim père returned to the podium, with piano,
for Notations. First, he offered a
spoken introduction to the pieces (with piano and orchestral examples), the idea
of Veränderung rightly to the fore.
(Again, I thought of Liszt, still more of Wagner.) Each piano version preceded
its orchestral child. If the piano versions were not always the most polished,
and would in themselves be superseded by Michael Wenderberg’s superlative
performances the following night, they did what they were supposed to, in spiritedly
showing whence the orchestral versions had originated. Berg again came to mind
in III (Très modéré); indeed, it was
a (putative) brand of Klangfarbenmelodie
related to him, perhaps, rather than to Schoenberg and Webern, that seemed the
hallmark of that intriguing performance. There was, moreover, more than a
soupçon of Debussyan awakening, in all its rich ambiguity. The Seventh, marked ‘Hiératique’,
proved on a different scale in every sense to its predecessors, almost
musico-dramatic in a Wagnerian and/or Mahlerian sense. Air from Debussy’s and
Bartók’s planets vied with that of more Germanic ‘tradition’. For Boulez’s
later serialism, this seemed an equivalent to Schoenberg’s Begleitungsmusik zu einer Lichtspielszene. As usual, the closing
(for now) Second Notation offered a
riotous conclusion – to an immaculately planned concert.
