Daniel
Börtz must be counted among the foremost Swedish composers of
the post-war generation. He has an impressive list of works, including
eleven symphonies, chamber music, concertos and operas, of which
The Bacchae (1988-89), directed by Ingmar Bergman and also
presented in a TV-production, was a success. It is also available
on CD with Sylvia Lindenstrand and a very young Peter Mattei in
the leading roles (Caprice CAP 22028:1-2).
His
first composition teacher was Hilding Rosenberg, who was a cousin
of his father, and later he studied at the Royal College of Music
in Stockholm with Karl-Birger Blomdahl and Ingvar Lidholm. He
has also been a broadcaster, for some years the host for Nya
timmen, a request programme for modern music. This reveals
that he is a communicative person. That he is firmly established
as a leading force in Swedish music life is further underlined
by the fact that the annual composer festival at the Concert Hall
in Stockholm in 1992 was devoted to him.
The
step from Euripides to Aeschylus seems logical. It was Ingmar
Bergman who guided Börtz to director Olof Molander’s versions
of the Oresteia trilogy, which he had performed at the
Swedish National Theatre in the early 1950s, where he had incorporated
the three tragedies into a single entity. Initially Börtz had
contemplated an opera but was unable to see how the theme of reconciliation
could be expressed on stage. In the end an oratorio was the solution,
where the music has the leading part. Börtz further reduced Molander’s
concept to a narrative in two parts:
‘Clytemnestra
and her daughter Electra are living in Argos with Agamemnon’s
cousin Aegisthus. She has sent Orestes, her son by Agamemnon,
to be raised elsewhere. Agamemnon, with the prophetess Cassandra
as part of his booty, returns from the Trojan War. Cassandra foretells
the murder of Agamemnon. Clytemnestra slays Agamemnon (and Cassandra)
to avenge the death of her daughter Iphigenia whom Agamemnon had
sacrificed to the gods in the expectation of their support in
battle. In the second part of the narrative, Orestes returns to
Argos in disguise and murders Aegisthus and Clytemnestra. The
furies demand that Orestes be punished for the murders but in
the concluding trial, Pallas Athene exhorts them to moderate their
demands and Orestes is freed.’
The
central roles in the drama are those of the leader of the choir,
who is the narrator, and the choir, who comment and express their
feelings in the classic Greek tradition. The orchestra are fundamental.
Through the course of the drama these three elements work together
to create a unity that is at the same time topical and timeless.
The
music is as many-facetted as the drama and ranges from strident
clusters and shattering eruptions from percussion and brass to
inward lyricism. There’s even a folksong atmosphere in the prologue,
where a shepherd plays his flute before he sings his tale of the
herdsman who ‘took to his home / a little, suckling lion cup /
and he fed and cared for it …’ And everyone liked it. ‘But when
the lion was fully grown / its predatory nature prevailed / bringing
alarm and death / to the terrified folk of the farm.’ The tale
recurs as an epilogue and is sung in both cases with beautiful
androgynous tone by Adrian Dolata.
Listeners
unaccustomed to contemporary music may at first feel a bit alienated
by some of the writing here but in the main this is accessible
music that is rooted in tonality. Börtz writes with great understanding
of the human voice. For the most part the vocal solos – they are
not exactly arias – are eminently singable. That also goes for
the choral parts, but on the other hand this virtuoso choir can
sing almost anything, however complicated. What impresses me most
of all is Börtz’s skilful handling of the orchestra: colourful
but restrained, maybe economical is the best word, saving the
big outbreaks for the climaxes where they are so much more telling.
His discriminating choice of voice-type and character for each
role is another asset. He designated the role of Aegisthus to
the high baritone of Olle Persson, one of the most versatile singers
in the country, but he hardly sings a tone. Instead he employs
practically all the means of expression that are within the scope
of a human voice – and to superb effect. This is one of the most
formidable non-singing roles I have heard a classically schooled
singer perform.
But
the whole cast are magnificent: the hoch-dramatische soprano
of Annalena Persson cuts with Birgit Nilsson like steely brilliance
through the orchestra in Electra’s role; Ingrid Tobiasson’s Clytemnestra
is a trial of strength, superbly executed. Marianne Eklöf is a
Pallas Athena of real stature, while Anna Larsson is a noble and
impressive Cassandra, to compare with her Erda in the recent Stockholm
Ring.
Apart
from Electra there are no high female voices and significantly
there is no tenor in the cast either. Anders Larsson has steadily
developed to a splendid Italianate baritone and he is a sonorous
and expressive Orestes. Esa Ruuttunen seemed cut out for the role
of Agamemnon – he has long been one of the great singing-actors
in the Nordic countries. He is certainly expressive but his voice
is drier than I have heard him before.
But
it is Anita Björk, one of the most legendary Swedish actors during
the last sixty-five (!) years, who carries the greatest burden
as leader of the choir and narrator. She does it magnificently.
Deeply involved, with burning intensity and – in the last resort
– a kind of objective distance, she is the hub around which everything
rotates. There is another hub of course: Alan Gilbert, whom the
Stockholm Philharmonic will lose next year when he will become
music director of the New York Philharmonic. Here he has a firm
grip on the proceedings and with state-of-the-art recording –
as we have come to expect from BIS – this is both a sonic feast
and a deep tragedy, mercilessly unfolded until in the last scene
resolution is obtained.
The
substantial ‘filler’, the concerto for recorder and orchestra
entitled A Joker’s Tales is a tour de force for
Dan Laurin, who is certainly one of the leading instrumentalists
in the world. He is at home in contemporary music as well as in
the ancient past – where most of the instrument’s repertoire is
to be found. Börtz has, as always, a fine ear for orchestral colour
and also for rhythm. This concerto was released a couple of years
ago on a disc with more contemporary music for recorder. I refer
readers to the enthusiastic review
by my colleague Dominy Clements.
Let
me just add that I am indebted to Göran Bergendal’s liner-notes
for much of the information on Börtz and the work and also the
summary of the plot.
I
have heard a lot of music by Daniel Börtz through the years and
the Royal Stockholm Opera’s The Bacchae, more than fifteen
years ago, was a deeply moving experience. I believe that Orestes
ranks even higher. At least that is what I feel right now. As
a matter of fact I can’t remember when a composition of this kind
made such a deep impression.
Göran
Forsling
Anita Björk (spoken
role) – Leader of the Choir; Annalena Persson (soprano) – Electra;
Ingrid Tobiasson (mezzo) – Clytemnestra; Marianne Eklöf (mezzo)
– Pallas Athena; Anna Larsson (contralto) – Cassandra; Chilissa;
Adrian Dolata (boy soprano) – A Herdsman; Anders Larsson (baritone)
– Orestes; Olle Persson (high baritone) – Aegisthus; Esa Ruuttunen
(bass) – Agamemnon; Johan Christensson (spoken role) – A Janitor;
Carl-Henric Qvarfordt (spoken role) – Apollo
