I was just reading this intelligent follow-up by the conductor and cellist Kenneth Woods to the whole Elgar/Norrington debate. He noticed a discussion thread about the issue over on a pop-centered forum. There are apparently quite a few interesting thoughts, especially those which reveal as much about the non-Classical audience views the world of Classical Music as they do about the issue itself.
One thing that stuck out to me, though, was this comment:
"I’m guessing that the longer an institution stands, the more “stuffy”
it stands to get. Which is why despite innovation, classical music
still holds on to a number of silly traditions… I think it will be
interesting to watch hip hop work over the next two or three decades,
and observe how aging (and respected) traditions change the game."
Right there is something that screams Post-Modern Relativism, and misses the point at the heart of the debate. Kenneth Woods had this response:
"What’s been interesting about this discussion is that both sides of
the argument have been claiming to have claim to the true tradition.
Although factually it is not hard to determine whether or not constant
non-vibrato playing is something Elgar would have wanted, we live in
the age of point-counterpoint, so the two “sides” will be debated. Who
is being conservative here- are both, or are both trying to be
progressive. I’d like to think my own Elgar perspective is progressive-
I’ve spent my own time trying to find a historical and honest basis for
evolving the way we play this music, but I’m sure other conductors feel
the same.
But the right/wrong discussion is the wrong one- to me, the
interesting discussion is about what is better, truer, more exciting. "
"Truth" is the problem here. When Post-Modern Relativism is applied here - that is to say, there are no "truths", only interpretations, each which becomes its own "truth" - all is lost. While it's fun to think this way, and follow this path down all sorts of entertaining alleys and by-ways, in the end it isn't a philosophical game. Somebody actually had his own "truth" when he wrote this piece. When we start infringing upon others' "truths" with our own, then at what point does the composer's truth cease to be valid?
But wait....
Serendipitously - about as astonishingly serendipitous as it gets, I think - as I was thinking about that last paragraph, I switched onto Radio France Musique, and the Allemande from Bach's 2nd Suite for Solo Cello in d came on. With...drums? This is what I'm listening to right now.
That's right. Percussion. With a Bach Cello Suite. OMG - JSB? Even in the Sarabande. I'm trying to open both my ears and my mind right now, and I just don't know what to do with this except sit back and listen (and record the stream for later study).
....Pause....Talk amongst yourselves.....
Now he's onto the 5th Suite. No drums in the prelude....but it's back for the rest of the piece....A little cymbal clanging away during the Gavotte? Will my head explode?
Okay, relax. It's over now. Wow, that was really something else. The instrument played by Madjid Kaladj was apparently a Daf. Although, this definition has it with little cymbals, like a large tambourine. The main instrument being played here definitely didn't have any jingling bits. That was clearly a different instrument. The presenter said it was "un grand tambour...qui s'appelle le Daf", a symbol of the Dervishes, so I'll take his word for it.
Wait, it's not over. Now it's percussion solo, followed by what sounds like a bit of improv around a Persian melody. Long lines, throwing in a little Western harmony with a few double-stops, and eventually the percussion joins in. The pace picks up, gestures become faster, more exciting.
Very nice, and an obvious but effective follow up to the Bach.
Now that I've recovered a bit, I have to explain why I'm making such a big deal about this. I was just thinking about the old argument of being faithful to the composer's intentions while still trying to find new ways to express them. That's what it's all about, really, and not about respecting various "truths". Unless, maybe, we start to define "truth" a little differently for the sake of this discussion. Then, out of the ether comes what to so many people is kind of a Holy of Holies, a peak most cellists continue to climb throughout their lives. It's my instrument as well, and I have my own bowings which have been influenced by not only my study of Bach and period instruments, and HIP, but by every single performance I've ever heard as well. And my own "truth" changes with how I'm feeling on the day. The instrument can be moody like that, too, which can have an effect on my own mood.
I've lost count of how many editions and recordings there are. (Anyone interested in that huge legacy should check out Tim Janof's Survey of Bach Suite Editions, and then read his essay on Interpretational Angst.)
Needless to say, there is as much debate, and infinitely more personal "truths", about the Bach Cello Suites than there is about whether or not to use modern string technique in Elgar. But the heart of the issue is the same: how best to realize the composer's wishes. I'm not going to go into the impossibilities of reading the minds of dead people and all that. That's a well-worn path, especially the part about how musicians used to take all sorts of liberties, there's a reason why the French use the term "interpreter" instead of "to perform", the idea of being "faithful to the score" is fairly recent, etc. We all know that, but the bottom line is we need to at least try, as Kenneth Woods says, to do what's best for the music.
With all this in mind, how insane is it that I turn on the radio, and hear this "sacred" music through a completely new filter? And it actually worked. Mostly. I think. I can't decide yet, and will have to listen to it again to figure out just what's going on, and really get into analyzing the details.
What I can say is that I can totally tell what they were trying to do, and I think I can make a preliminary assessment of how successful they were. First, I have to say that Christian-Pierre La Marca's playing was first rate. A very warm, clean sound, with phrasing and articulation which, while certainly taking a few lessons from the HIP school, took advantage of the fact that he was playing on modern equipment. Yes, there was some vibrato, but used judiciously (translation: not much at all, and only to add expression when a phrase required it). He let the notes speak for themselves, and I thought he had an excellent read on the various rhythms and figures particular to each movement's characteristics. Even without the percussion, I suspect his interpretation would hold up well.
Remarkably, in most cases it seemed as if his interpretation was not affected by the percussion at all. I don't mean that there was no interaction between the two. There certainly was, but the phrasing and approach to the Baroque dance rhythms seemed to come from the cello, with the percussion adding fills and color. Khaladj would often shadow the cello, using different touches to broaden his color palette, and using speed and quick crescendos and decresendos, trying to complement the rise and fall of Bach's lines. That's the right approach, I think. Only in the final Gigue of each suite did I sense an added urgency in the cello feeding off the percussion. That worked just fine, and didn't distort the rhythm or Bach's phrases.
That's a key point. This interpretation is about as experimental as you can get, even though accompaniments for this music have been done for a very long time. Certainly the combination of a bowed instrument and percussion is as old as the first bowed instrument invented. Robert Schumann made piano accompaniments. Plenty of others have done various things with this music as well, and they're played on all sorts of instruments, and no one bats an eyelash (except cello purists). I think Bach is almost unique in this way; one can do pretty much anything to his music, and as long as one plays all his notes in the right order, and in the right rhythms, it works.
One experimental version worth mentioning is the recording Inazaffirio by cellist Vito Paternoster. He took the Prelude of each suite and combined it with other pieces of (actual) sacred music, in full string orchestra arrangements. He also set texts for soprano. First he plays each Prelude as a solo cello, on a period instrument, and in the old style, and the solo versions alternate with the arrangments throughout the recording. I have issues with some of his choices, but I like others. The G major Prelude is combined with the them from Gounod's famous setting of Bach's Ave Maria, which is also the source of the text, and introduces the theme for the album. The next three Preludes are mashups of medieval antiphons which also have sacred texts praising the Virgin Mary. The 5th Prelude has a relevant excerpt from Dante's Paradiso, and the last one is combined with Ave Virgo Singularis by Adamo di San Vittore in the 11th Century.
All this is sung by soprano Patricia Pace, in full-blooded, modern operatic style, and yes, the string orchestra has a very rich, Romantic sound. This also throws all notions of historically informed anything, or being faithful to the score, completely out the window and halfway down the block. Except, I adore it. Yes, some people may cringe at some overly Romantic moments, and there are a couple of naughty suspensions in the accompaniments. But I don't care. Whatever academic or even technical complaints one may have about this, it does do one thing: it makes Bach's music sound beautiful.
If all the racket going on around the cello part is too much of a distraction for some, or the occasional harmonic clam just ruins it for others, so be it. In my view this is an acceptable "truth", once which so very obviously holds Bach's "truth" to be sacred. Paternoster just finds a new way to express it. That's also what was going on in the cello and percussion interpretation I just heard.
And that's as it should be. Roger Norrington may make the same claim, but from what I heard he no longer holds Elgar's "truth" to be sacred. Consequently, the music suffers. That's what it's all about.