64 strings

Last night saw the most Baltic filled of all the concerts of this year's GAIDA festival. And for me was the concert I waited for with most anticipation; admittedly this was mostly because of the three premieres anything could have happened, and the mix of composers involved I have a real soft spot for their work. The concert was extremely well attended, and had the extra zing of excitement due to the presence of LRT film crew. So lots of anticipation for this particular concert.

So to start off our string extravaganza was a glorious work by the Lithuanian behemoth, Julius Juzeliunas. The performance was a gesture of celebration of the composer's great work, and to mark his centenary which is nice very year. The work chosen to mark this momentous occasion was the composer's fourth quartet, or as it is nicknamed Raga keturiems (Raga a quattro). The quartet is a marvelous conversational work for quartet and rather wonderfully explores the harmonic potential of different ragas without it starting to sound like mere exoticism or cultural appropriation. Like all of Juzeliunas's works it is charming witty and elegantly crafted. His quartets are without a doubt, on par with the likes of Bartok, Janacek, and Schoenberg in regards to significance and brilliance. The performance of this work fell to the CHORDOS quartet, who sadly played it all rather flatly. All the character and nuance of the work ultimately disappeared because dynamic range was too small, very little conviction in the interpretation, and some of the simple gestures like moments of increased bow pressure felt clumsy or even uncomfortable for the group. It was a real shame indeed, I do hope other quartets adopt the work, so they can really hammer home the charm, wit, and brilliance of this quartet.

Next came the ArtVio and Ciurlionis quartet to show us what they could do, in the premiere of Zibuokle Martinaityte's new octet (or double string quartet) Sort Sol. This premiere I was particularly excited about as I have a real love of the work of Martinaityte. Ever since I heard her piece Completely Embraced by the Beauty of Emptiness I have found her work to be brilliantly constructed and full of a unique character and charm. The word Sort Sol is Danish for Black Sun; which is the name for the natural phenomenon where lots of birds fly in a huge dense flock. I was curious to see how this could be translated into a work for eight instruments. The work was well crafted, and the colours in the ensemble were beautiful. The harmony is very heavily focused around open fifths, but I couldn't quite tell if that was to fit with the black sun or to accommodate the fact fifths are the most common interval on string instruments. I was curious to see that Zibuokle herself had resigned herself to conduct the work, especially as in this performance it felt like the performers had stopped communicating as a group, and just stared at the composer. The other issue I had with the work was simply it owed too much to Juste Janulyte. There were too many similarities between Sort Sol and Elongations of Night by Juste Janulyte. Which ultimately is a shame as Zibuokle is a magnificent composer in her own right. I desperately and highly recommend everyone to visit her soundcloud, to hear her wonderful music. 

Then after some more shuffling came the second of the night's premieres. This came in the form of a dectet for two string quartets, accordion, and percussion by Ramunas Motiekaitis. All of you who read this blog, know how much admiration I have for the work of Motiekaitis, so to finally have the opportunity to hear it live was a real treat for me indeed. And I was only delighted with this piece. With the quiet flicker of the first notes I knew I was in to hear something magnificent. Like with many of Ramunas's pieces nothing is overstated, every sound has a purpose, an importance which is never pompous or to inflate his own ego, but merely a significance of 'this has to happen now, because it is happening now'. The elegance of the work thrives on the fact it never seeks attention, it merely exists; and throughout existence we the most beautiful elements of life never have to scream for attention, there merely are and with it are beautiful. 

After a large amount of shuffling came one of the leviathans of the night. Ruta Vitkauskatie's Nusviesti lygumai (Event Horizon) for four string quartets was one of the most talked about pieces leading up to the concert due to the sheer number of quartets involved. Admittedly this isn't the most amount of string quartets I have heard in relation to a piece for string quartet. Horatiu Radulescu's seminal fourth quartet is for nine quartets, he addressed the necessity of this gargantuan size through extreme use of scordatura, to create the sensation of an 128 stringed instrument. Ruta Vitkauskaite's work was not trying to compete with this outlandish work, but rather exploited the antiphonal potential in the space. This kind of idea is not a new one in music, Thomas Tallis and Gabrielli both exploited the potential of this within their sacred works, but this does not mean there isn't still life in the idea. The opening was joyful, mostly because it was the most overtly melodic piece I think I have ever heard from Ruta. The seamless passing of the melody was wonderful and had a real life to it. Sadly this joy was short lived, as 'extended techniques' were chucked into the mix and just didn't feel right in the piece. Maybe if, like in Radulescu's fourth, the work was an hour long she could have really explored all the ideas and made a really magical exploratory experience of it. But sadly it did not quite reach that point. 

After a much needed break, mostly to recover from a rather uncomfortable seat, we returned to be greeted by ArtVio performing Simon Steen-Anderson's Study for String Instruments No. 1. For those who don't know the magical work, this piece simply gives you what it says; Simon Steen-Anderson really is the ronseal of composition. The work simply explores articulation and musical gesturing within glissandi. The quartet surprised me. Mostly because I felt the sensation that they were intuitively built to play works of this magnitude. Contemporary music does divide performers, mostly because many performers are scared of making the 'wrong' interpretation, or merely not knowing how to interpret it at all. ArtVio really took the piece in their stride, and really showed they are a force to be reckoned with. Bloody well done. 

Following this, and lots of shuffling about, came Peteris Vasks's Viatore for string orchestra. Written in 2001 the work is very typical of Vasks's current sensibilities, with its rich harmonies and chorale-like textures. I really, really love this piece; so I was very excited at the opportunity of hearing it. I was delighted to see the 11 musicians were daring enough to perform the work without conductor, but sadly their bravery didn't deliver much to the piece. As Vasks's music is so open performing it without a clear idea of what you want to say in the piece is detrimental to the overall effect of the music. The music is still very pretty, but it is fare more powerful when performed with a powerful intent. This lack of intent was also apparent as dynamic differences were barely noticeable and interaction felt a bit limp. Thankfully performances of Vasks are a bit like pizza: good pizza is amazing and bad pizza is still pretty amazing. 

The finale came in the form of Gintaras Sodeika's Tettigonia perdida, Dada Concerto Grosso. The work for solo piano, solo cello, and strings is very typical of Sodeika. Cheeky, heavily jazz influenced, and rather optimistic. The soloists really tried to bring out lots of character in their parts, but despite their efforts issues like balance and rigidity ultimately ruined the effect. Because the ensemble weren't conducted, one of two things were going to happen. Either the soloists lead and interact with the group, dictating tempo changes and so forth; or everyone would become to fixated with their own parts and forget to interact. Sadly the latter was the result, and particularly in works heavily influenced by jazz, rigidity in the music ultimately makes the atmosphere feel laboured. Even though Sodeika's music has a lot of personal charm to it, the music needs fluidity otherwise it is somewhat akin to my youth playing 'swing' with brass bands; nothing ruins swing quite like a colliery band, and nothing ruins jazz like stagnant classical musicians. 

The highlights of the concert were without a doubt ArtVio's rendition of Simon Steen-Anderson and Ramunas Motiekaitis's premiere X Ciklai. More from them please!

Anna Veismane: Wings

With the past few posts being consistently full of Lithuanian composers, you would be forgiven to think I am only going to discuss Lithuanians. Now GAIDA has finished, I thought this would be a great opportunity to discuss a recent Latvian gem I have uncovered.

The composer in question is Anna Veismane (1976*) a composer who I am surprised it took me so long to discover her. A pupil of Peteris Vasks and Romualds Kalsons, to name just two of her teachers. Her music and herself don't need too much of an introduction, due mostly to the wonderful clarity in her work. But to show her off a bit, she has worked with ensembles and musicians all over the world like the North/South Chamber Orchestra (USA), Latvian Radio Choir, William Schimmel, and The Concorde Contemporary Music Ensemble, to name but a few. I have never really been fond of just quoting someone's biography, but for me it simply highlights how many composers who are pretty busy writing for ensembles worldwide go under the radar, especially in the sheltered musical environment of Britain.

But I digress, today's post is merely an introduction to one piece for cello and accordion called Wings. The work was written and performed by TWOgether duo, at the Latvian Music Days 2014. The second work by Veismane with the title, the first being a piece for solo flute. The duo is pretty captivating, starting with timid flashes and flutters of sound. Hearing the gestures pass from cello to accordion and vice versa is always fascinating, due to the quite dynamic separating the two instruments becomes almost impossible. Then suddenly a strong gesture from the cello bursts from the music into a beautiful frenzy, with small circling motifs combined with clusters in the accordion. The energy is slowly released, and the duo shimmer and die away into nothing.

The work isn't overtly grand or revolutionary, but it is just a nice fresh piece of music. Every gesture and idea is refreshing to listen to and is something I have been listening to on loop for a fair while now. Its also always nice to just come across a gripping miniature. Sometimes the most gripping pieces of music are tiny, just look at Farben from Schoenberg's Five Pieces for Orchestra, or Webern's symphony. 

Enjoy the piece here, but I also recommend people check out her website here. Some recordings of her works are present and they are definitely pieces I will want to discuss in future posts. Until next time! 

Anatolijus Senderovas: 70th Birthday Bonanza

As I mentioned in the last post, things are starting to pick up in Vilnius and a large amount of concerts will be happening in a short space of time. Last night was a concert performed by the Lithuanian National Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Modestas Pitrenas. The concert was to celebrate the Lithuanian composer Anatolijus Sendervoas who turned 70 this year. The occasion was a very big one with Senderovas receiving a present from the president and was supported by many national or international foundations and institutions including the Lithuanian composers union and the Good Will Foundation.


Senderovas was born in 1945 to a Jewish family, which considering the seismic shifts and torturous events that preceded and followed his birth his existence is rather miraculous. He studied in what is now the Lithuanian Academy of Music and Theatre under the guidance of Eduardas Balsys. And his music is definitively Baltic. The openness, the clarity, the moments of austere beauty, and the ability to unleash powerful violence makes his music the template that many composers following him or his contemporaries aimed to achieve.


The concert included four works, his concerto in Do (2002) for cello and orchestra, ...ad Astra (2007) for accordion and orchestra, Paratum cor meum (1995) for cello, four keyboards played by one pianist, choir, and large orchestra, and a new work Sokis (dances)(2015). Following many speeches and many presents and bouquets being handed to Senderovas, the concert opened with the concerto in Do. The soloist was David Geringas, who performed the premiere of the work back in 2002. The piece opened in a still dark calm, allowing the cellist to really open up this quasi-free quasi-cadenza showing off a wide virtuosity and beauty. Gradually ripples spread across the orchestra building to rich sounds which allows managed to make the soloist more powerful. The constant building lead to quite a powerful climax before coming back to the same dark calm that opened the concerto.


The next piece ...ad Astra was the work I was most familiar with before the concert, due mostly to the fact when I was writing my own concerto for accordion, Martynas Levickis kept referring me to his powerful piece. Hearing the two concerto side by side was fascinating, in the sense that one it seemed Senderovas had built quite a wonderful formula for producing concerti using a similar architecture but still make the work sound wildly different and unique. Part of it hangs in the instrumentation, whereas the concerto in Do is extremely lyrical this accordion concerto is violent and dense. Thick clusters spread from the soloist to the orchestra and the climax of the work is quite a powerful roar from the orchestra, it was especially intense as I somehow ended up sat in the front row. The whole concerti was played astounding well by the soloist Geir Draugsvoll.


After the interval and a lot of stage change, the concert resumed with Paratum cor meum. A monumental work, due to its size and forces. The Lithuanian choir Jauna Muzika supported the orchestra in this piece. Indre Baikstyte had the task of jumping across the four keyboards, which included piano, harpsichord, electric organ, and celeste. David Geringas took centre stage for the solo cello part. The text of the work focuses on quotes from the Psalms and Ecclesiastes. The quotations focus mostly yearning for release and the work reflects this through very beautiful solemn stillness. The interaction of soloist and choir with the orchestra is very similar to Flos Campi by Vaughan-Williams. Where instead of a solo singer with an aria, the soloist reflects the mood and beauty of the words. The moments of violence and chaos seems to detract from the work as it made the work feel a bit stop start but this being said, the violence was a powerful thing to witness.


The final work was a world premiere by Senderovas written especially for the concert. Sokis (dances) in short is, if you can imagine the result of Karlheinz Stockhausen writing authentic Klezmer music. The piece started with a bit of confusion when the compere Darius Uzkuraitis said: There might be a soloist, we don't really know. And a stage manager appeared with music before disappearing. The piece actually opened with clarinets wailing away at the Jewish folk tune, and it bounces along getting slowly more insane, before a sudden break into chaos. This chaos is suddenly halted by conductor Modestas Pitrenas, who then asked: Where is our soloist? The orchestra then shouted loudly for Geringas who walked out proudly before joining in on the fun. The piece carries on then descends again into chaos, Pitrenas asked again: Where is our soloist? The orchestra promptly shouted for Draugsvoll who also appeared proudly and added the occasion. It carried on dancing away, going like a bull through a china shop. When chaos ensued again Pitrenas screamed: What is this noise, what is going on? This lead to a small competitive cadenzas from Draugsvoll, Baikstyte, and Geringas, each zanier than the last. Then like a muscle man on steroids the dances charged on before coming to a loud end.

The concert was a fun experience, and I sincerely hope Sokis got recorded, because of the wild and choatic forces it would be hard to make many future performances. Overall it was a wonderful mark and nod to the birthday boy and was performed beautifully by the orchestra and conducotr Modestas Pitrenas. A combination I hope to see many more times during my time here in Vilnius.  

Vykintas Balatakas: Saxordionphonics

This week's installment brings us back to Lithuania. One because it is not long till I move into my new flat in Vilnius, but also because I do really enjoy this particular piece.

Vykintas Baltakas (1972*) is a highly driven composer and conductor, and his work with the Gaida Festival and the Lithuanian Ensemble Network (Lieutvos Ansambliu Tinklas) have helped bring new life to Lithuanian music and the way it is performed and viewed worldwide. Currently residing in Belgium Vykintas Baltakas's music is captivating and energetic. To quote his own biography:
'Vykintas Baltakas is a musical Scheherazade. His music keeps pulling you in and referencing itself, sometimes branching off and reinventing itself, and sometimes returning to where it started. He weaves musical stories that are linked with a delicate interconnected web'

This constant reinvention combined with an angst with his musical surroundings in Vilnius, probably made his move to Germany in 1993 quite so important. Studying with Wolfgang Rihm will have been worlds away from Baltakas's native Lithuania. As you will see in future blogs, many prominent Lithuanian composers leading up to the 1989 revolution were keen on exploring Lithuanian culture; either through drawing on ancient folk songs, folk art, or stories. Whereas Germany had 40 years of revolutionary ideas that had been constantly evolving since the end of the second world war. This extreme divide in musical landscapes allowed Vykintas to flourish. 

Now onto my personal favourite by Baltakas. His playful Saxordionphonics for soprano saxophone, accordion, and orchestra is a single movement work which hints at being a concerto by the way the soloists interact with each other and with the orchestra, but always manage to dodge it in such a way that you are always second guessing what the piece is going to do.

The opening stabs never quite reiterate themselves when you expect, always just a little after or just before you truly anticipate it. The entrance of the accordion begins with ricochets between accordion and the orchestra. The soprano saxophone enters and suddenly the dynamic of the piece changes but the moment passes quite quickly and you find yourself in a constant to and fro between motifs you have heard before and new ones.

This keeps the work energetic and ultimately quite cute and playful. The soloists in the recording perform this beautifully and with such gusto that you get the feeling that the piece is such a standard piece of the repertory; a sensation that happens rarely with contemporary recordings.

The work is not the most remarkable or definitive piece by Baltakas, but it is extremely lovable and a great introduction to his music. People who have fallen in love with this I'd recommend checking out pieces like 'Co(ro)na' or 'Pasaka' both are stunning piece which I will be mentioning in future installments.


Information have been gathered from:
Baltakas's official website: http://www.baltakas.net/biography/