The Hong Kong Philharmonic has just released a disc of
orchestral showpieces by Tan Dun. There’s
some exciting music on it and clearly the HKPhil are relishing the
opportunities Tan Dun has given them for virtuoso display, not only of
instrumental skill, but also of shouting, whispering, vocalising, stamping of
feet and various other non-musical physical activities. It’s good, too, that this major Asian
orchestra has finally joined the others in the international record catalogues,
their earlier efforts appearing either on obscure labels (David Atherton
directed them in some Stravinsky released in 2000 on the GMN label) or going
back to the very early days of Marco Polo when neither recording quality nor performance
standards rose above the abysmal. What’s more, while the Malaysian Philharmonic
are on a hiding to nothing working their way through Dvořák for Bis – a hiding
to nothing because, no matter how good they are, they can never seriously
compete with the giants who have set the yardstick in Dvořák recordings – and the
Singapore Symphony (also on Bis) cast their net so widely that their
discography looks like Lan Shui’s favourite hits, the HKPhil has the virtue of
sticking to repertoire with which it has a special, not to say unique,
affinity.
One of the pieces on the Tan Dun disc is his Symphonic Poem on Three Notes. Inspired by the name of Placido Domingo (if
you say that name with a Chinese accent it sounds like Lah-Si-Doh which, as
everybody knows, are the last three notes of an ascending scale) the work
manages to stretch the musical figure A-B-C to a staggering 12 minutes. Cleverly using lots of percussion and
non-melodic effects, Tan Dun nevertheless shows what an ingenious composer can
do with fundamentally minimal material.
 |
What couldn't Bach do with 3 notes? |
It set my mind thinking about other composers who had built
works around such meagre melodic motivs.
The obvious one is, of course, Bach and his Fugue in D (BWV532). I remember when I first heard this played at
a recital, the programme notes mentioned that the work showed Bach’s supreme
genius in developing such seemingly restrictive material, and I was duly amazed
by his audacity in building a substantial fugue around the notes D-E-Fsharp.

But even Bach, like Tan Dun, had to break away from the
three notes in places to prevent the music becoming terminally repetitive. As a student organist, having mastered the
ubiquitous Suite Gothique by Léon
Boëllmann (1862-1897), I looked around to see what else he had composed. I came across a publication in the
long-defunct Ashdown imprint called “Four Recital Pieces”. I quickly understood why he was known almost
exclusively for Suite Gothique, and
for 40 years the volume rested pristine in my music drawers. Then, for my last public recital in
Singapore, I decided to present a programme looking forward to the musical
anniversaries in 2012. Boëllmann’s was
among them and, having played the Suite
Gothique at a previous recital at the Esplanade, I decided to resurrect the
Four Recital Pieces and see if one of them would do. I chose the Carillon (Op.16 No.5) which is based entirely on three notes
reiterated endlessly in the pedals for all of the work’s 132 bars (a little
under 4 minutes in total). It was not
Boëllmann’s greatest hit, but I wonder whether he was inspired by another
French composer whose life was cut short in his mid-30s, Georges Bizet
(1838-1875). I imagine every music-lover
knows the famous Carillon from the
first of his L’Arlesienne suites which,
too, is based on just three notes, but with rather a lot more interest added
than Boëllmann dared. (So many
three-note French carillons! But the French are not alone in their
penchant for bells in threes. The chapel
of St Salvator in St Andrews boasts three bells and I could swear I heard attempts
at ringing changes on them the other Sunday morning.)
Nevertheless, three seems to be the very minimum number of notes
any composer can work with in building a coherent melodic line which can extend
to a reasonable length of time. Try as I
might, I cannot think of a single work built on just two notes (although
Bruckner tried his hardest in some of his symphonies, and Beethoven went some way down the path in the 3rd
movement of his Eighth Symphony before deciding to branch out into more fertile
pastures), but I can think of one which makes a positive virtue out of being
based on a single note (and I’m not talking about Jobim’s One Note Samba).
For the one and only public appearance of the Malaysian Philharmonic
Chorus, destroyed almost as soon as it was born by the toxic combination of an
incredibly foolish German ambassador and a frighteningly weak MPO CEO, I chose
to end the concert with a performance of The
Immovable Doh by Percy Grainger (1882-1961). The story goes that Grainger was playing his
harmonium when a note stuck. Not wishing
to waste good composition time, he devised a choral work around the note C
which sounded continually whenever the harmonium’s bellows were filled with
air. It was an absolute masterpiece, since,
while the C dominated and the music sung by the choir unfailingly associated
itself with that C, it made perfect musical sense and, moreover, easily had
enough interest to maintain its five minute duration. I have a recording of the performance in
which we asked the organ tuner, Tan Eng Pin, to sit at the console and hold
down the C while the choir sang. I had
suggested he might like to keep on holding it even after the choir had stopped
and the recording captures a fake gunshot from the stage which ended his C and
the life of the Malaysian Philharmonic Chorus.
Ligeti - Musica Ricercata ?
ReplyDeleteGood point! No.1 is built on just two notes and no.2 on three (each lasts about 3 mins) but the others go beyond that. Marc
DeleteI immediately thought of our old favourite: Vierne's 'Carillon' (du Longpont) from the 24 pieces, but then remembered hat a fourth note does make a single appearance in the theme! That said, the theme is primarily formed of just three notes, Bb, C and D. Peter
ReplyDeleteDr Marc,
ReplyDeleteI asked my daughter if she knew any pieces based on only one or two notes, and with little hesitation she listed several of the beginners piano pieces in John Thompson book 1. But maybe they are not what you had in mind.
And then she said "how about the piece Mr Bean plays at the Olympics ? It goes da-da-da-da-da-da-da-da..."
Probably it is a much doctored version of the original Chariots of Fire theme.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h17gIW9paO0&feature=youtube_gdata_player
But I was intrigued how the tonic pedal (or what ever it is) had, in her mind, become the main theme, probably by virtue of the person playing it.
Yours
Dr Peter