Now in his early forties,
Jean-Claude Schlaepfer was born in Geneva
where he had his early musical training
(piano and music theory) at the Conservatory.
His teachers included the composer Pierre
Wissmer. Later, he studied with Betsy
Jolas at the Paris Conservatory. He
now teaches harmony and analysis both
at the Conservatoire Supérieur
de Musique and at the Conservatoire
Populaire de Musique in Geneva.
MGB’s portrait presents
several fairly recent works, all written
between 1992 and 1999. These allow for
a fairly comprehensive survey of his
present output. These live recordings
obviously originate from the broadcasts
of these pieces’ first performances.
The orchestral piece
Exil opens with widely
separated ominous drum-strokes. The
piece as a whole is a slow processional
(very slow indeed since it moves at
crochet = 30) often interrupted by many
menacing silent bars separating the
various sections of the work. The music,
however, moves relentlessly towards
a mighty climax, cut short by a long
pause, after which the music is resumed,
mysteriously at first, then with some
nervous interjections dispelling the
static character of the slow coda, before
dissolving away. Exil
is an impressive piece of music in spite
of its brevity.
Motets,
for soprano, harp and viola da gamba,
falls into five short sections, of which
three are vocal and two function as
instrumental interludes (harp and viola
da gamba respectively). This setting
of parts of Psalm 39 again moves at
a slow tempo, and variety is achieved
by alternating different instrumental
settings: voice and harp, harp interlude,
voice with harp and viola da gamba,
viola da gamba interlude and – finally
– voice, harp and viola da gamba. The
music, as in most other pieces here,
breathes rarefied air; and might best
be described as "updated Webern".
The instruments weave a delicate, almost
ethereal accompaniment to the often
melismatic vocal part.
Ascensus
is a short concerto for trumpet and
low strings (no violins). It opens on
a single E on the trumpet, a defiant
call to arms, answered by the strings
that continue by supporting the long,
sinuous trumpet melody. True to its
title, the music slowly moves towards
its climax, followed by a hushed, mysterious
coda in which the muted trumpet plays
softly, as if hiding itself behind the
strings. The music dies away softly.
Missa Brevis
for mezzo-soprano and string quartet
sets short fragments of the traditional
Mass (the Gloria actually only sets
the words Gloria in excelsis Deo,
et in terra pax). As in Motets,
the voice part has the leading role,
particularly so in the awe-stricken
Sanctus, in which it is sparsely
accompanied by the strings. The Benedictus
is spoken (by a member of the quartet?).
This again is a very short, compact
piece; but nevertheless quite accessible
(this may be due to the choice of a
warmer mezzo-soprano voice).
The short Chant
de lune for small ensemble opens
on percussion, later with short, fragmentary
motives. This hesitating opening section
is followed by an ostinato played
by the double bass functioning as a
pedal over which woodwinds, strings’
pizzicati and percussion superimpose
short, flash-like interjections. Finally,
the other instruments join in, imitating
the double bass’s ostinato thus
slowly moving towards the piece’s appeased
conclusion.
Trio à
Karin for piano trio is in six
short sections in which moods are briefly
but tellingly suggested. Much as in
some of Webern’s shorter works, there
is no development. It is obviously a
quite private and intimate piece of
music. Eric Gaudibert suggests in his
insert notes that the trio might have
been subtitled Requiem pour une enfant,
although we are not told who Karin was.
It is obviously a very personal utterance
for all its epigrammatic character.
The choral work Visibili
et Invisibili for treble voices
and men’s voices sets parts of Psalm
88 (men’s voices) and of the Epistle
to the Colossians (treble voices, in
the second section of the piece). The
music is rather intricately contrapuntal,
and the first section often calls Ligeti’s
Lux aeterna to mind. In
the second section, both choirs meet
and lead the music to its radiant conclusion.
Reticent is
what comes to mind when thinking over
this composer and his music. Obviously,
he does not bear his heart on his sleeve,
but his restraint no way obliterates
his will to communicate. His often slow-moving,
sparse music speaks truly while avoiding
histrionics. It does not yield its secrets
easily and cries out for repeated hearings.
I would like to hear more of his music
soon, for Schlaepfer’s music is the
expression of a sincere and honest artist.
Hubert Culot
