A look back at my final year

Its finally here, the end of year is upon me. My time in Vilnius is closing and I am being released into the real world after many of years of shelter in the bubble of student life. It is rather surreal indeed, to say the least, and I will very shortly after graduating write a post looking back entirely at my time here. But, like I did this time last year, I will look back at some of the lovely concert moments I witnessed and which music I was particularly enamoured with. 

As 2016 was the centenary year of Julius Juzeliunas, autumn also witnessed some major events dedicated to the composer. This was wonderful for me on two fronts, firstly my sheer adoration of the work of Juzeliunas meant I was just going to witness lots of concerts where I admired, if not loved everything I heard; secondly my dissertation for this year was centred around the composer and so these concerts technically counted as 'educational' or 'research'. The most significant performance for the entire year was without a doubt the performance of Zaidimas. Juzeliunas's opera is a glorious feat and stands as both a wonderful moment of its time, but is also such a significant slice of Lithuanian operatic history, with very few composers managing to quite level him (Lokys the Bear, by Bronius Kutavicius is the only equal in my head). The performance was a glorious thing to witness, and I remember how excitable I was after the performance had finished. The only shame that still looms over the performance was the fact it wasn't toured or produced by the National Opera. It just seems surreal that the national opera wouldn't support one of THE composers within Lithuania in the past 100 years. Still, a wonderful concert is a wonderful concert!

The other composer celebrating a significant anniversary was Onute Narbutaite. As the gargantuan figure celebrated her 60th birthday, there were multiple concerts put on to celebrate this fact, spanning from concerts in the filharmonie hall, performance of various chamber works, and my personal favourite, the performance of Centones Meae Urbi. Performed in the Franciscan church here in Vilnius, the performance really bought this magnificent work to life. The sheer intensity of the harmonies and the profound effect it had on its audience, it was a concert I am not likely to forget for many years to come. 

The other major anniversary I didn't manage to contemplate heavily was the 95th birthday of the Estonian composer; Ester Magi. Thankfully I have a good stash of recordings and will make sure I discuss her work very soon! The year did witness a very sad loss in the Baltic. The passing of Veljo Tormis was indeed a sad occasion not least because of the sheer power and originality of his music. As I discussed in a more direct manner his music, like Bronius Kutavicius, found a way to tap into the historic stream of local paganism and managed to rebuild a whole new musical world which could stun, move, and terrify. The world is definitely a sadder place because of his passing.

Like with the previous year, GAIDA Festival and Druskomanija festival were joyous festivals to witness, not least because of the strong variety of premieres they performed. Both festival continue to produce marvelous concerts and I sincerely hope I can find a way to smuggle myself back in October for GAIDA 2017! I have had a real pleasure of witnessing many wonderful premieres this year throughout the world, but I still think the following pieces simply hit me the hardest:


The opening of GAIDA 2016 saw the premiere of Vykintas Baltakas's commentum for cello and orchestra. Despite being an extension of an already existing work for cello and piano, this new work stood proudly on its own feet and merits. The charming conversational nature combined with a cheeky wit made for a glorious piece to witness. Jonathan Berman and Francesco Dillon made for a glorious pairing of performers to deliver such a premiere.


A few days later saw the premiere of another work that particularly struck me; x ciklai by Ramunas Motiekaitis. The piece landed in the middle of an intensely string quartet obsessed concert with 4 separate string quartets either performing on their own or with others to perform many different works. Ramunas's piece struck me the most, due to its calm and modest nature combined with a rather magical interaction with the performers involved. The more I have dwelt on this piece the more I regard it as his strongest work to date. 

The third premiere that particularly struck me happened during my cheeky visit to Riga back in February. The performance of The Colour of Water by Juste Janulyte was a premiere where I was overjoyed I sat on a Lux Express bus for four hours to witness. The sheer elegance and nuance from both the composer and performer made for a glorious welcoming to the city. I spoke about it very highly in my review of the concert, and thankfully recently the composer has put the recording online so I highly recommend it. Admittedly, this was one of three premieres by Juste I managed to see this year, and I loved all of them; but there is a fine line between fascination and overtly creepy obsession with someone and their music. Also I chose to focus on this work more, simply because recording popped up very recently, and the overall concert was pretty astounding. 

This year I also had the joy of travelling the world as a 'lecturer' where I had the pleasure to travel to Salzburg and New York to discuss my favourite Baltic people. It was both wonderful and surreal to get to travel to these places and just natter about what I love to a listening public, and not just nattering manically into some poor sod's ear. A personal joy too, while attending the Sounding the Sacred conference in New York, was witnessing the profound concert delivered by the Goeyvarts Trio, hearing Arvo Part in just intonation blew me away.

Obviously this is not the end of my obsessing of music within the region. There are many more composers I want to discuss and write manically about, and after all the CDs I have received recently, summer will definitely keep me out of trouble. So watch this space soon for more posts about the Baltic, and I close my simply showing a video of some wonderful music by Ester Magi.

Adolfs Skulte - Symphony No. 5

After a few weeks to gather myself, I am finally in a position to start excitably wittering about new discoveries I made during my 24 hours in Riga. So I ultimately wanted to start with a rather wonderfully hidden gem from the generation that worked almost entirely during the Soviet Era. Adolfs Skulte (1909-2000) stands as a rather significant figure within the Latvian classical tradition, one due to writing a rather prolific body of work, but also due to the sheer weight and magnitude of his orchestral works.


A pupil of Jazep Vitols (1863-1948), Skulte's musical language is an obvious continuation of his tutor, as well as tapping into the influence of composers like Arthur Honnegger or Karol Szymanowski. Skulte's symphonies stand as a significant body of his overall orchestral output, having produced a total of nine symphonies (the curse caught another great). Despite the obvious connection to romanticism, Skulte's music has a richness which keeps it sounding vivid and colourful. The connections to 'tradition' are never the result of 'conservatism' or purely the result of Soviet influences, listening to his music, it is apparent, the connection to the past merely builds Skulte a foundation to grow from.


As Adolfs Skulte was born the generation he was, he was ultimately composing for the majority of his lifetime during the Soviet era. Which for many, especially during the years immediately after the Second World War, meant treading carefully to avoid censorship or harsher consequences. Skulte's first symphony was definitively a work to keep himself in a kinder light, with its 'personable' title for peace. Despite the strengths and weaknesses of the work, it did show Skulte had a wonderful knack for writing 'his' music as well as adapting it enough to allow him to function despite the censorship. This adeptness lead Skulte winning multiple prizes including the U.S.S.R State Prize as well as achieving the title of 'People's Artist of Latvian S.S.R'. Now it can be argued that this was selling out, or just getting cosy with the Soviets. But the reality is, these were hoops composers had to jump through, not necessarily because any slight shift out of line was instant death and suffering for each individual artist, but more if you wanted to work as a composer these were the things you needed to do. It could be argued now with composers working in the free market, are having to sell out or become good promoters just so they can work. There are ultimately harsh realities wherever you are working, and hopefully those sacrifices pay off. In the case of Adolfs Skulte it did.


By 1970, as Skulte had an impeccable record,which meant he was completely free to composer whatever he wanted. This combined with Gorbachev's supposed 'Socialism with a human face', granted many freedoms to artists which ultimately lead to Skulte reaching a truly profound moment within his own music. This 'last' period of the composer shows him really striding with a real swagger. The fifth symphony is the first work of this period, and it really shows him in a fantastic light.

The three movement work, has the connection to traditional symphonic forms, but is extended with a fantastical and beautiful brutality. The opening Lento is calm, slowly biding its time, building, growing, and making profound use of its darkness. The orchestral palette is vast and really shows a composer throwing everything he has now he has the freedom to do so. The gorgeous melodic sweeps in the strings juxtaposed against dark monolithic chords in the brass makes the experience intensive. Parallels to Honnegger are particularly accurate, the similarities between this symphony and Honnegger's Symphonie Liturgique are there, but never in a pastiche manner.

The Allegro con brio flies. There is no other word for it. The sheer energy and drive in the work never really stops. Its a surprise the conductor doesn't get a stitch or repetitive strain from this fly by. However it does end in probably the cheekiest manner you could imagine.

The finale, Lento - Vivo, is rich and powerful. It stands as the largest movement of the work, but could also be seen as two movement rammed together as the conductor noted that the Lento and Vivo should be played without interruption. This second Lento starts with a glorious haze of colour. The build up of the chord is reminiscent of Berg's violin concerto, but in its own manner is equally thick and yummy; like truly masterful hot chocolate. The saxophone solo is haunting and just divine. The build up is intense and just glorious things for the ears to bear witness to. The moment the tubular bell strikes is magnificent and the responding harmonies just stun me. The Vivo starts in a fugal manner, with voices entering one by one, and like the Allegro con brio they fly. Skulte has a magnificent ability at writing fast music, an art which has disappeared in the last century. The finale has a real sensation of a rondo form, with its returning segments and the way the movement elegantly dances between them all is simply masterful. And the recapitulation of the melody at the climax of the movement is as glorious as it is terrifying.


The symphony is simply magnificent, there is no question. The sheer breadth and magnitude within one symphonic work is astounding, let alone the other eight symphonies. This is a composer who simply needs to be heard more. Enjoy the symphony below!