New York Times
Jan 23 2005
Bending Folk to Fit a 12-Tone Style and Vice Versa
Stephanie Berger for The New York Times
Photo: The Kronos Quartet, which plays three works by the Azerbaijani
Franghiz Ali-Zadeh on a new CD.
N a 1947 essay, Arnold Schoenberg dismissed with a sweep the
possibility that folk music could have a meaningful relationship to
art music. “They differ perhaps no more than petroleum and olive oil,
or ordinary water and holy water,” he wrote, “but they mix as poorly
as oil and water.”
In the eyebrow-raising climax of his rant, Schoenberg conflated folk
music with any non-Western musical tradition and imagined the
“nightmare” that might have ensued if Japan had conquered America,
England and Germany and imposed its scales on the rest of the world.
“Friends of Eastern Asiatic music claim that this monodic music is
capable of such variety as to express every nuance of human feeling,”
he wrote. “This may be true, but to the Western ear it sounds – ah –
different.”
What would Schoenberg make of Tigran Mansurian or Franghiz Ali-Zadeh,
two modern composers from the former Soviet Union whose work is
influenced by his 12-tone methods but who deliberately integrate the
traditional music of their cultures into their compositions?
Mr. Mansurian is Armenian. His latest album, “Monodia,” a two-CD set
from ECM, showcases the violist Kim Kashkashian, who has long
explored folk music alongside new music. The opening concerto, “And
Then I Was in Time Again,” nominated for two Grammy awards, is
striking, as she and the orchestra – the Munich Chamber Orchestra,
conducted by Christopher Poppen – trade long, jagged phrases.
But “Confessing With Faith,” where the viola acts as a fifth voice
against the four singers of the Hilliard Ensemble, is the most
haunting work. It is a setting of seven prayers by the 12th-century
Armenian priest and composer St. Nerses Shnorhali. The Hilliard’s
countertenor, David James, captures the characteristic acoustical
brilliance of the highest voice soaring up to the stone cupola of an
ancient church.
Yet Mr. Mansurian’s composition is by no means a faithful rendering
of sharakan, the Armenian hymn form. The rhythmic force of the second
movement charges this typically sober idiom with nearly chaotic
intensity.
Mr. Mansurian’s Violin Concerto, played by Leonidas Kavakos, is
undoubtedly more 20th century than 12th, but a repeating four-note
passage exemplifies what Ms. Kashkashian has called an “intervallic
tension” that makes Mr. Mansurian’s music “so Armenian.” The phrase
entreats like a distant call that contributes a sense of geographic
isolation.
The music’s roots are more exposed still in recent compositions by
Ms. Ali-Zadeh, an Azerbaijani. A new Nonesuch CD, “Mugam Sayagi,”
offers four works by Ms. Ali-Zadeh, performed by the Kronos Quartet
and herself, on piano.
The distinctive sound of the album comes from Ms. Ali-Zadeh’s
confident adaptation of the Azerbaijani mugam, a complex set of modes
or scales with specific rhythmic and structural requirements.
Traditionally monophonic, the mugam is refitted here for the
polyphony of a string quartet and piano.
Ms. Ali-Zadeh’s “Oasis” begins with layers of pizzicatos that sound
like raindrops. The plucking escalates to a surprising solid rhythm
that could just as easily be coming from hand drums – an unusual
texture alongside others on the album, including whispering voices.
“Apsheron Quintet” starts with Ms. Ali-Zadeh playing an indulgently
beautiful piano run that is a contrast to the raucous explorations of
other pieces. In Music for Piano, she transforms her instrument into
a sort of zither by laying a heavy beaded necklace across the piano
strings.
In the title track, “Mugam Sayagi,” the Kronos players cover varied
terrain that reflects the moods evoked by specific mugams. In subdued
passages of sustained notes, they seem armed with a kamancheh, kanun
and oud instead of the violins, viola and cello they are playing.
Later, the quartet bends vivid tone colors into lively turns in a
section that feels like a village dance.
Ms. Ali-Zadeh’s project may call to mind the work of a compatriot,
Fikret Amirov, who first introduced Azerbaijani mugam into Western
symphonic composition in the 1940’s. But Amirov’s works sound, by
comparison, like the superficially folk-inspired symphonies of
Khachaturian or Rimsky-Korsakov.
Music by Mr. Mansurian and Ms. Ali-Zadeh is being performed in the
Juilliard School’s current Focus Festival, “Breaking the Chains: The
Soviet Avant-Garde, 1966-91.” The festival includes 29 composers
spanning the Soviet Union, but as the new recordings demonstrate,
within that vastness lies great specificity.