Berio’s Sequenzas were
written over a rather long period, actually some thirty-four
years - most of his long composing life. So, they give a
fair survey of his compositional progress and of his stylistic
evolution.
Sequenza I for solo flute, composed for
the celebrated flautist and staunch champion of modern music
Severino Gazzelloni, is fairly traditional
in its aims and means, and probably one of Berio’s most classically
conceived mature works. In many respects, it belongs to a
series of works for monodic instruments, such as flute, viola,
viola and cello, in which the composers attempt some sort
of polyphony. One thinks of Hindemith’s sonatas for solo
viola, Bartók’s masterly Sonata for Solo Violin,
Kodaly’s Sonata for Solo Cello or Alwyn’s Divertimento
for Solo Flute. The music is awfully demanding, but
still dispenses with modern playing techniques, such as multiphonics.
In Sequenza II for
solo harp (1963), Berio clearly moves some steps further
in liberating the instrument of its classical and Impressionistic
clichés, and in trying-out some new playing methods, such
as knocks on the wood or playing near the keys; but, most
significantly, Berio never writes against the nature of the
instrument (this is a common characteristic to all the works
in the Sequenza series).
Sequenza III for solo female voice (1966) belongs to a number of works from that
same period, such as Circles (1960), Epiphanie (1959/61,
rev. 1965) and Laborintus II (1965), in which
Berio sets various texts in a completely radical way, by
splitting words and phrases into some sort of “word constellations” in
which the words’ actual meaning is deliberately by-passed. Sequenza
III was written for Cathy Berberian (who else?) exploiting
her tremendous vocal range and, her sometimes histrionic
sound delivery: whispers, shouts, shrieks, plain singing,
breathing noises and the like. The piece is an impressive
showcase for vocalist, but I for one have never been able
to warm to it wholeheartedly. However, I must say that Tony
Arnold’s aplomb is simply stunning.
In total contrast, Sequenza
IV for piano (1966) is a quite accessible piece
of music exploring the instrument’s timbres and textures,
and constantly opposing (confronting?) chordal and linear
versions of the same basic idea. However, one clearly
senses that Berio has now moved some way from the fairly
traditional sound-world of Sequenza I and
is now close to that of, say, Boulez and his contemporaries.
Sequenza V for solo trombone (1965) does not appeal much to me, in much the
same way as Sequenza III and for the same reasons
(there is too little music in these pieces for my taste).
However, I saw a documentary on Berio some time ago, in which
he was seen rehearsing the piece with a young trombone player,
and explaining that the piece is some sort of gag, incidentally
inspired by the once famous clown “Grock”. I must say that
this helped me to consider the piece in another perspective,
which does not mean that I find it one of the finest of the
set.
Sequenza VI for solo viola (1967), written
for Serge Collot, is – as far as I
am concerned – one of the finest of the whole series. The
music is of course devilishly difficult and demanding, but
eventually displays a formidable expressive strength, that
Berio later developed in Chemins II (viola
and ensemble – 1967) and Chemins III (viola
and orchestra – 1968). The cellist Rohan de Saram also arranged
it for solo cello, but this version has not been included
in this set.
Sequenza VII for solo oboe (1969), written for Heinz Holliger, and in many respects
quite comparable to its predecessor, also received an expanded
reworking (Chemins IV – 1975); as did Sequenza
VIII for solo violin (1976), later “recycled” as Corale
su Sequenza VIII (violin, 2 horns and strings – 1981).
Incidentally, Sequenza VII exists in an alternative
version made in 1995, Sequenza VIIb for soprano
saxophone included here.
Sequenza IXa for solo clarinet (1980), too, is not unlike its predecessors, although
there is less of the nervously repeated notes heard in Sequenza
VI or Sequenza VIII, and more emphasis
on melodic material constantly modified and metamorphosed
throughout the piece. There also exists an alternative version
for alto saxophone (IXb) made the following
year and included here too.
Sequenza X for trumpet in C and piano
resonance (1984) is thus the only work of the series that
calls for some “accompaniment”. “The piano
keeps its sustaining pedal, with differing notes, depressed
throughout the piece, ensuring the stark trumpet tone is ‘cushioned’ by
myriad harmonic overtones, so opening-out its expressive
range”. Sorry for such a long quote, but Richard Whitehouse’s
words aptly sum-up what is on display in this work, although
I must admit that I did not really notice these “myriad harmonic
overtones”, which did not deter me from enjoying the music.
Sequenza XI for guitar (1987/8), written
for Eliot Fisk, is a splendid piece of music in its own right,
and one that should feature highly
in any guitarist’s repertoire. Flamenco tradition rubs shoulders
with the classical tradition in a remarkably inventive way.
When I first heard Sequenza
XII for bassoon (1995) some time ago during an
Ars Musica festival in Brussels, I found that the piece,
for all its merits and qualities, was just a bit too
long for its own good. The very fine reading heard here
does not much to change my first impression, although
this is another inventive and fiendishly difficult piece
designed to explore and expand the expressive range of
the instrument.
The subtitle of Sequenza
XIII for accordion (“Chanson”) clearly emphasises
the predominantly lyrical character of the music. A most
welcome novelty indeed.
Sequenza XIV for solo cello (2002)
was written for Rohan de Saram. The music is – once
again – strongly expressive, although it includes some percussive
effects on the body of the instrument inspired, so we are
told, by the Kandyan drum from Sri Lanka. It splendidly rounds-off
a thirty-four year musical Odyssey that will remain as one
of the peaks of 20th century instrumental music.
Naxos and all these players
are to be wholeheartedly congratulated for this splendid
achievement. The only rival (on DG 475 038-2), which I have
not heard, is performed by members of Ensemble InterContemporain;
but I found these readings carefully prepared, excellently
played and well recorded. In fact, Naxos have the field to
themselves since the DG set does not include Sequenza
XIV (cello) and includes only one alternative version: IXb (alto
saxophone). Add the typical Naxos bargain price, and you
get the most attractive offer so far. Self-commending and
my bargain of the month.
Hubert Culot
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