Giacinto Scelsi – or,
to give him his full title, Count Giacinto
Scelsi di Ayala Valva – was one of the
most idiosyncratic composers of the
last century. His work has attracted
increasing attention in recent years.
Born into a noble family from Naples,
he travelled extensively in Europe and
Asia, and was, at various times, much
influenced by the example of Scriabin,
and by Persian, Indian and Tibetan thought
and music. He became increasingly reclusive
after settling in Rome in the 1950s.
As a composer he had an early flirtation
with serialism, but eventually evolved
idioms which were distinctly his own;
some of his music was, apparently, improvised
during sessions of yoga-inspired meditation,
recorded, transcribed and annotated
- sometimes with the help of assistants.
Interesting as this may be, what matters
is what the results sound like.
Trilogia is
a very substantial and demanding piece
for unaccompanied cello, shaped as a
kind of aural (auto)biography; a record
of the stages of life. It is in three
sections, ‘Triphon’, ‘Dithome’ and ‘Igghur’.
The first and last of these sections
are in three movements. The central
section is a single movement. ‘Triphon’
carries the subtitle ‘Youth – Energy
–Drama’. The first movement is - perhaps
surprisingly - rather slow and exploits
the lower register of the instrument
against some occasional fast, high passages,
in which metal mutes are placed on the
strings. ‘Drama’ is technically very
demanding and quite violent in its effects.
‘Dithome’, although in a single movement,
again carries a subtitle which implies
a division into three phases or aspects;
‘Maturity – Energy – Thought’. The use
of microtones becomes even more pronounced,
and there are some passages characterised
by a beautiful serenity. ‘Ygghur’ -
a Sanskrit word roughly corresponding
to ‘catharsis’ - is again in three separate
movements, subtitled ‘Old Age’ – ‘Memories’
- ‘Catharsis’. It is notated - in what
became one of Scelsi’s trademarks –
on one stave for each string. It begins
poignantly and its second movement touchingly
evokes the elusive and fragmentary nature
of memory. In its final movement Scelsi’s
use of the higher end of the instrument,
both beautiful and vulnerable, seems
to be anticipating - for the most part
calmly - the end of an earthly life.
Trilogia is
a challenging but profound and moving
work; though by no means ‘easy’ it certainly
rewards concentrated listening. Jessica
Kuhn seems undaunted by any of the technical
challenges. She is able to surmount
them and project the work’s emotional
content. There is a compelling quality
to her playing, which holds the attention
throughout. By the end of her performance
the listener has shared a complex, exhausting
but satisfying musical journey.
Trilogia received
its first recording in 1979, played
by Frances-Marie Uitti (a performance
issued on Etcetera KTC 1136). Uitti
worked with Scelsi and her recording
has a kind of imprimatur from
the composer. But Trilogia is
a large, rich work, full of ambiguities.
It can’t be pinned down to a single
‘definitive’ performance and Jessica
Kuhn’s powerful recording is a welcome
addition to the Scelsi discography.
Frangis Ali-Sade was
born and educated in Baku in Azerbaijan.
In recent years she has lived and worked
in Germany. Her music has been recorded
by the Kronos Quartet, who performed
her piece Oasis at the Barbican
in January 2005. She wrote Dervish
in 2000 for Yo-Yo Ma’s Silk Road
Project. Aşk-Havasi
(the Turkish title might be translated
as ‘the atmosphere of love’) was inspired
by the love story of Leyla and Majnun,
a story retold by poets in all of the
major Islamic cultures during the middle
ages. Though it is a story which ends
tragically - as it does in Bright Sheng’s
operatic version of 1992, The Song
of Majnun - Ali-Sade’s piece concentrates
on the lovers’ first meeting. Her rhapsodic
writing, adventurous but with an implicit
tonal centre, conveys both the excitement
and the tenderness of the moment, the
innocence and the slight hints of danger.
Again Kuhn is a persuasive advocate
for the music in this, its première
recording. Though in a very different
idiom from Scelsi’s Trilogia,
and altogether slighter, it makes an
attractive companion for it on this
very worthwhile CD.
Glyn Pursglove