More Bluebeard’s Castle

In the course of researching (read: obsessing over) Bartók’s one-act opera Bluebeard’s Castle, I came across a Hungarian film adaptation of the piece on YouTube. It’s annoyingly divided into fourteen segments, but anyone familiar with the piece or interested should take a look.

Berkeley Bluebeard

I’d like to alert Bay Area readers to the upcoming performances by Berkeley Opera of my two favorite one-acts, Bartók’s Bluebeard’s Castle and Ravel’s L’Enfant et les Sortilèges. These two composers are not particularly known for their dramatic works, but each work reveals the composer’s complete mastery of music for the stage. An evening consisting of both of these works is not to be missed.

So, Like, What’s With the Seven Doors?

[sws_divider_line]

			BLUEBEARD
Well, we’re here.  This is my castle.

			JUDIT
This is your castle?  Kinda creepy.

			BLUEBEARD
Yeah.  You sure you want to come in here?

			JUDIT
Yeah.

			BLUEBEARD
Well, okay then.

			JUDIT
So, like, what’s with the seven doors?

			BLUEBEARD
You don't want to know.

			JUDIT
Open them up.

			BLUEBEARD
Um, I don't think so.

			JUDIT
Aw, come on.  Just one?

			BLUEBEARD
Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you.

More to come.

Bartók Discussion on NPR

NPR has a great interview with conductor Marin Alsop and accompanying article about Bartók’s music, where she touches on folk influences and discusses The Miraculous Mandarin, Romanian Dances, Bluebeard’s Castle and more.

Choral Music for Bedtime

About a year and a half ago, I posted a little something about my son’s taste in orchestral music. He was about to turn three then, and now he’s four and a half. Since that time, my ability to play music for him has been limited for various boring technical and life reasons.

A few weeks ago, I got a new mobile phone that functions as a music player (not an iPhone, but I love it anyway). I’m still in the wide-eyed amusement phase over the fact that I can copy music files to it from my computer via Bluetooth, so just for the heck of it I copied a few favorite pieces over to see how that worked.

Missed Museums

Here’s a pathetic case of inertia combined with bad planning.

I managed to live in Budapest for three years without ever visiting the Bartók Museum, which is housed in the composer’s final residence before leaving Hungary for the U.S. When I was back in 2005 for the Letter To Hungary performance, there simply wasn’t time. This time it was an important agenda item, but I still managed to put it off until the second-to-last day.

Well, lunch with an old, long-lost friend got away from me that day and I got to the gate of the house at exactly 5:00. Guess what time the museum closes.

Not that I can report first-hand, but many of the rooms in the house are restored to the way Bartók left them, including his study, where he wrote the last two string quartets, Mikrokosmos and 27 Choruses, as well as many other favorites. I’d still love to get in there sometime.

As if this weren’t bad enough, I also found out that Kodály’s apartment, coincindentally in the neighborhood where I was staying, had also been turned into a museum in 1990 (exactly when I was living in Budapest). No one told me at the time. Didn’t manage to get there either.

How lame. Szégyelem magam!

Slip Into Some Bartók

Today I found myself thinking about one of Bartók’s lesser-known works, the “Twenty Seven Choruses”.

My friend M., over on Music in a Suburban Scene, has expressed disappointment in the Bartók String Quartets, making the valid point that a lot of relentless dissonance can be boring. In defending the Quartets, I found myself referring to the Choruses, because they reveal the same genius as the quartets, only in a more accessible environment.

While I agree with M. in general that dissonance for its own sake makes pretty uninteresting music, it must be said that the dissonance in the Quartets comes about through a very sensible system of voice leading and a sound harmonic framework. By building upon tiny melodic fragments, and simply letting the harmonies fall out naturally, Bartók enters an expressive sound world where it’s worth meeting him halfway. After a few listenings, you realize that it’s more about what he’s doing with his melodic material and rhythm than harmony. Yes, you’ll be disappointed if you’re insisting upon predictable resolutions and goose-bumpy chords (although, they’re there if you’re listening). If you can join Bartók in this place, you’ll find the Quartets very satisfying.

Anyone who is Bartók Quartet-curious might consider first getting to know the Twenty-seven Choruses, for women’s or children’s voices. These are in a much more lyrical style than most of his instrumental work, but display the same contrapuntal and expressive proclivities that make the Quartets great. These very attractive and entertaining little pieces, which use Hungarian folk texts but entirely original music, were written in the mid-Thirties, around the same time as Quartet #5.

Incidentally, these make great teaching pieces for choral conductors. Some of them are deceptively complicated, and an example of just about any conducting problem can be found here.