It is rare that for an entire concert the music making
is of the same high calibre as that of its interpreters. The second
concert in the multimedia festival Related Rocks: The World of Magnus
Lindberg, devised by Lindberg´s Finnish compatriot Esa-Pekka
Salonen in conjunction with the Philharmonia, brought one of those
rare London appearances of the Arditti Quartet, the world’s
leading exponent for the string quartets of our time and surely one
of England’s most important music exports. One would have expected a
sold out Purcell Room, but there were many empty seats. It is only too
well known that for some time "Something is rotten in the State of Denmark",
to quote Shakespeare.
There are far too many contemporary composers, whose work one hears
once - and that is it. There are sadly not that many composers whose
works one would like to hear far more often. Magnus Lindberg
(43) belongs to this second category. For sometime now he has left behind
the self-indulgent experiments of others in favour of creating ravishing
and explosive music for the 21st century. He has not only learned his
craft, he is also one of the most creative and forward looking voices
on the horizon. His output is already phenomenal and proves correct
the remarks of the great teacher, pianist, conductor and composer Lukas
Foss. He wrote how important it is for the young composer not just to
sit and remain proud of some first obscure work, but to compose non-stop
in a variety of styles, until - hopefully - his own distinctive voice
appears. Back in the 1980s Lindberg realised how dangerous and corrupt
a new century may be and that classical music, if it wanted to survive,
had to overcome any introvert, complacent and backward looking perspective.
His music is based on the vast experience of the past while simultaneously
creating new, refreshing and even aggressive music reflecting the need
to speak direct, to mirror the present and to reach out towards the
future. see Interview with Lindberg
The `related rocks´ framing this concert were Stravinsky´s Three
Pieces for String quartet (1914), which he had composed for the
conductor Ernest Ansermet and which much later featured in some of his
orchestral works, and Berg´s gigantic Lyric Suite (1926), in
my view the most important string quartet of the 20th century and a
prime example of the truism that even serialism can only be a means
to an end - in this case absolute music recreating the spirit of the
great Viennese school. That this quartet is also the most complex and
the most difficult love letter in music history is the other side of
this incredible coin. The Arditti Quartet played both works with
the insight, vividness and intensity it is know for.
No reasons were given for an unexpected change of programme. Lindberg´s
advertised London premiere of his first string quartet - officially
still a work in progress - had been replaced with his Six Jubilees,
for Solo Piano (2000). This suite of six piano miniatures originated
out of Jubilee 1, a short commission, to celebrate Pierre Boulez´s 75th
birthday together with commissions from eleven other composers. Lindberg,
an excellent pianist, astonishingly, has written hardly anything for
his instrument. It was, therefore, fascinating to listen to this partita-like
full-blooded collection, a true work of the 21st century, played by
the composer himself. Any remarks that another pianist may have played
the pieces differently and less energetically are irrelevant. To be
able to hear a composition first hand is far more important than any
refined interpretation - piano music of magnetic power and controlled
drama full of harmonic and rhythmic changes. Lindberg´s one movement
Clarinet Quintet (1992) with the Arditti Quartet, joined by the
Finnish clarinet player Kari Kriikku, for whom it was written,
proved to be overwhelming in its virtuosity - not only for the clarinet,
but also for the string quartet. Its energy is breathtaking "physically
pushing the music to extreme registers or speed"(Lindberg). It has already
been recorded by the same artists on the Montaigne label. This concert
had been a real treat and, I am sure, the rest of this well planed mini-festival
will be of similar quality.
By coincidence, the Contemporary Music Network presented Kaija Saariaho
(49), another Finnish composer (Queen Elizabeth Hall Nov. 19th), while
the London Philharmonic had chosen her as its Composer in Focus for
the 2001/02 season (first concert Royal Festival Hall Nov.24th). But
despite already being an icon her music disappointed me. I could not
find any forward looking approach to her music nor anything that would
captivate my interest, nor anything, for that matter, that could eventually
carry some weight as a directly speaking creative force for our century.
Her music is highly intellectual, self-absorbed, slightly introvert
and clever, but judging from the two events on offer it does lead nowhere.
At the QEH I heard From the Grammar of Dreams -
a visualised concert for 2 sopranos, cello, harp, flute and viola (1999)
–a childishly staged song cycle, amplified and with electronic background
noise, and one which sounded like an extremely selfish attempt to recreate
the atmosphere of medieval madrigals. After seventy-five consecutive
minutes my frustration at such a high level of arrogance and kitsch
had reached boiling point. At the RFH, Gidon Kremer and the London
Philharmonic under the young American conductor Alan Gilbert
gave a vivid and remarkable account of her violin concerto Graal
Théâtre (1994). She had written it for Gidon Kremer,
but this kind of confrontation with all the technical extremes a great
violinist is capable of seemed solely to be a theatrical presentation
against transparent orchestral textures.
Hans-Theodor Wohlfahrt