Programme notes
Contrapuntal craftsmanship
The Dutchman Jan van Vlijmen can undoubtedly be qualified as belonging to a group
of some of today's most important composers who trace their lineage from Bach
by way of the Second Viennese School up through Boulez. His Sextet, written in
2000 and commissioned by the Schoenberg Quartet, demonstrates to what extent he
is a part of this tradition. Moreover, one should note that no other work of comparable
substance has been written for this group of instruments since Arnold Schoenberg's
string sextet Verklärte Nacht, which dates from 1899 (!)-with the exception,
that is, of Erwin Schulhoff's rediscovered Sextet, another work on this programme.
A characteristic of Van Vlijmen's Sextet, which is over half an hour long, is
that it is a true sextet and, therefore, not a "filled in" string quartet
with the addition of two instruments in the lower register. While the interaction
of two trios is a remarkable feature of Schoenberg's Opus 4, one is struck in
Van Vlijmen's Sextet by the recurring presence of solos, duets, and trios-in every
possible combination and to the extent that the guest players fulfil an extremely
important role within the ensemble as a whole: a whole in which canons and inversion
take centre stage and the time-honoured practice of writing counterpoint is flamboyantly
paid homage. As the piece continues, the number of tutti passages increases, these
culminating in fascinating episodes of a "coagulated" if not rigid character.
The result is a fascinating alternation between moments of tension and release,
which remind the listener not only of Van Vlijmen's string quartet Trimurti but
of his monumental orchestral/vocal four-part Quaterni as well. Although no pauses
delineate the various sections of the Sextet, the finale is by far the longest
of these. The core of this complex, polyphonic movement, which is interrupted
by numerous intermezzi, is made up of a menacing and regularly staggered unison
theme. In terms of rhetoric, the music calls to mind Reger's titanic fugal finales,
while the short and frenzied conclusion-preceded by an exquisite, desolate episode-could
have served as the model for the conclusion of Berg's Opus 3.
Last breath
In contrast to Van Vlijmen's Sextet, the score of Valentin Silvestrov's First
String Quartet, completed in 1974, looks anything but traditional. This work could
never have been written without the examples of Ligeti, Lutoslawski, Cage, Feldman
and other important post-war composers. This work, however, is just as traditional
as Van Vlijmen's Sextet if not more so, albeit in a somewhat more concealed manner.
By this, I refer not so much to the chorale-like theme-or better yet, the residue
of a chorale-like theme that forms a framework for the whole piece and constitutes
a thread that runs throughout the composition-but rather to the unique sonority
in relation to the use of a language of expressive gestures. This sonority particularly
involves the high registers of the various instruments as well as the way the
thematic material is at times reduced to an exceedingly sparse gesture, comprising
very few notes. Silvestrov's quartet, which is sometimes reminiscent of the sound
world of Webern's Sechs Bagatellen, is similar to the last pages of Mahler's Ninth
Symphony, a work in which the melodic development is progressively curtailed until,
during the final measures of the closing adagio, nothing but the mere suggestion
of a melody remains. The same is true for the chorale theme, which most resembles
a last breath for which a prayer must be substituted at the close of Silvestrov's
First String Quartet. This exquisite musical fragment by this unique Russian composer
serves as a perfect example of sublimated nostalgia.
Expressionist gestures
Characteristic of Erwin Schulhoff's music is the saturated sound world and gestures
of expressionism. The Sextet is undoubtedly one of his works that was most inspired
by the Second Viennese School. The opening section immediately and almost involuntarily
calls Alban Berg's name to mind-to such an extent as to imply that this score
could have lain next to that of Berg's Lyric Suite. In reality, however, Schulhoff's
Sextet dates from 1924 and the Lyric Suite from two years later. In any case,
the similarity between the opening of Schulhoff's Sextet and that of the Presto
delirando of the Lyric Suite is astounding, so much so that one is inclined to
wonder if Berg was in some way familiar with the manuscript of the Sextet. Another
connection to Berg is the free use of twelve-tone elements-the first movement
again illustrating this perfectly, its opening theme containing all twelve tones.
A three-year gap lies between the composition of this movement and the three that
follow. During that period, Schulhoff concentrated on neoclassicism, as did many
of his peers. Unlike many of his contemporaries, however, he successfully avoided
a sterile and "cosmetic" style, provocatively combining expressionist,
neoclassical and folkloristic ingredients and transforming these into a flamboyant
whole. An unmistakable example is the short but rousing Burlesca, the third movement
of the Sextet. Another matter altogether is the pre-eminently mysterious concluding
episode of the finale, which could well have been written by Debussy.
Maarten Brandt |