For years Carter hesitated to compose a work, a concerto,
for flute because he believed the flute
could not 'bring out the sharp attacks' he favoured in his compositions.
Now, he's written a flute concerto after all.
Emmanuel Pahud gave the work its world premiere
performance in September 2008
at the Jerusalem Chamber Music Festival.
Emmanuel Pahud, what kind of a work did Carter
compose for you?
Actually, when one is confronted with a composition that in 13 minutes
summarizes 100 years
plus perspectives looking back as well as forwards,
from the point of view of Elliott Carter.
It is a daunting task one is faced with
and looking at such music scores opens incredible worlds.
It's unbelievable how much one can define as a performer while sitting at a desk
not just by trying out the piece
on one's instrument and reading the score
but far more in the dialogue, the connection,
between the solo instrument and the orchestra
what worlds get opened up there.
And in this concerto, you recognize right at the start
that the flute suddenly fills the room
with an entire cloud of sounds, like sequins in the air.
These sounds are then repeated by the orchestra
and alternately by different groups of instruments
that react to each other and I too am
involved at this point and occasionally play sounds
that, in contrast to the sounds being played by other instruments
are picked up and emphasized by the orchestra.
That is, the notes played by the solo instrument,
the flute, are then sustained by the orchestra
as a kind of sound relief and from these sounds a harmony builds
and over and above this harmony, a solo flute voice develops
which leads to a wonderful Cantilena in the second part of the piece.
The piece is called a concerto for flute and orchestra,
but I would prefer to describe it as a nocturne
although it has the form of a concerto.
It's one long piece of music that's clearly divided
structurally into four different movements.
Just as with a symphony, with the first part
and then a middle, slower part,
that you could say is more of a song
then a third part where the cadence is free
and the flute starts out alone
and it is joined by other instruments, mainly the drum group
and then in the end a finale marked by a great deal of virtuosity
not only from the flute
but also from the violins and the other instruments of the orchestra.
What Elliott Carter borrowed from Stravinsky
was his decades-long intensive preoccupation with rhythm.
He not only wrote essays on the subject but
most of his work reflects this focus on rhythm.
What is it like in the Flute Concerto?
It isn't nearly so difficult from the point of view of rhythm
as in his earlier works
works from the 1970s and 80s when he's already well over 70 years of age.
The works are marked by an enormous level of complexity
but with age he seems to have acquired a certain wisdom
inasmuch as he played with complex rhythms a lot
where, for example a duet for flute and clarinet,
called 'Esprit Rude, Esprit Doux'
meaning 'Rough Spirit, Kind Spirit'
this piece was composed for Pierre Boulez sixtieth birthday.
In this piece there are just the two instruments
but they may never play together.
The piece is very very fast,
but when the clarinet plays five notes in a row
then the flute only plays four... or six and
the other way around as well, the entire time
and during a performance if you hear two sounds
played together then the performance has failed.
It's entirely different than playing Mozart
or Beethoven, where you hear immediately
that a mistake has been made when it's not together.
In this case it's just the opposite, which offers an interesting perspective
but it leads to the oddity that when a sound finally comes together
the audience or the musicians playing think
'finally' it's alright after all
but no, it's actually wrong.
None of that in the Flute Concerto nor in the Piano Concerto, the Dialogues.
It's well defined who has the lead role, the piano or the flute,
and the orchestra is in constant dialogue,
that is, we react to one another using the same material.
The rhythmic complexity is there during the entire development of the piece.
It appears in many different forms.
But Elliott Carter, unlike many other composers of the younger generation,
completely rejects special effects.
Because you can get a very sweet tone from the flute
but also very ugly sounds.
Or very windy or a very pizzicato-like sound using the tongue to make a popping sound.
Or a clapping type of sound, a percussive effect.
You have a lot of possibilities for effects
that you can breathe or blow into the instrument
that create other kinds noises, not to mention sounds.
But there's none of that with Elliott Carter.
He uses the flute... after the opening of the concerto
which is quite scattered almost chaotic
and this chaos slowly organizes itself into a kind of
musical language for all the performers on the stage.
And afterward there comes an almost neo-impressionistic musical language,
which is very suited to the flute,
especially since Debussy's orchestral works
or Ravel's orchestral works which have helped audiences
recognize the flute as that type of instrument.
After the intermission, we will hear the
Concerto for Piano and Ensemble, 'Dialogues'.
It was premiered in London in January 2004
and this evening's soloist also performed that world premiere.
You will be performing with the orchestra, playing the flute,
and you are familiar with the work.
The works are very similar in length and have a similar
ensemble of instruments, perhaps a little smaller.
What other similarities do you see in these two pieces?
These pieces are..... immediately recognizable
as works by the same composer...A.
and B. - they are in the same musical style.
Elliott Carter doesn't use any exotic
instruments such as drums, harp or keyboards
in the piano piece... because he already has a wonderful
percussion instrument, the piano itself.
After all, it is hammers that make the sound on the strings,
and depending how softly or strongly the notes
are struck an unbelievable palette of sounds unfolds.
Sometimes it sounds like Chopin and sometimes it sounds like Bernstein.
There's a Cantilena, but it isn't heard so much in the
solo Flute voice but rather from the English Horn
performed beautifully by Albrecht Mayer.
And this Dialogue takes place between
a solo instrument and the orchestra
but naturally with other ingredients.
Since a piano is not dealt with as a solo instrument
in the same manner as a flute.
As a result the entire cosmos, the entire constellation is there
but is seen from an entirely other point of view.
It is as if you were to see the sky in Berlin at midnight and then
a few hours later from Sydney.
You would see different constellations that belong to the same cosmos,
but you would be looking at them from another perspective.
In 1990 Elliott Carter composed a Trio with the beautiful name
'Con Leggerezza Pensosa', contemplative lightness.
Many of the works from the last two decades
of Carter's oeuvre merit similar-sounding names.
What about the two works that we'll be hearing this evening?
Lightness and thoughtfulness... but both together and linked
is an absolute key to understanding these works
as well as to performing these works.
There is a composer's note in the score
'giocoso' meaning 'playful'.
and there is another 'legerissimo' note toward the end of the Flute Concerto.
These notes recur quite often in the works.
as if to indicate a baroque treatment, a light and
decorative way of playing the piece.
It's an indicator of the playful way the composer sees his work.
Not taken too seriously, and not to be made too important.
It is naturally a sign of great maturity.
and I will try, even with my 'relatively' advanced years
to adhere to the composer's notes.
You played the world premiere of these pieces
and now you're doing their European premiere.
You premiered the Flute Concerto of Marc-AndrĂŠ Dalbavie in 2006.
Just two examples of your commitment to contemporary classical music.
What is it that draws you so much to this music?
The music of Johann Sebastian Bach, of his sons,
from Mozart, Schubert and Beethoven
was at one time very new and revolutionary.
They were interested in new instruments.
And it has always been the same.
And it continues to be that way today.
The difference is that the composers also
performed their works on the piano or violin, or viola
or improvising during a concert performance
and then wrote out their compositions.
The ease with which a Mozart, for example, in just one night in Prague
composed his 'Don Giovanni' Overture just shortly before the dress rehearsal
is something that is reflected in the
hyperactivity of a composer like Elliott Carter.
I believe if people had complete freedom of choice
they would always take the works of
Matthias Pintscher, Elliott Carter or Pierre Boulez
or Marc-AndrĂŠ Dalbavie compose for example.
And I really hope that in 250 or 300 years
people will think about their works the way we think about
the works of Mozart or Bach.
That what the composers want to say with their works today
may be seen as visionary, and can't be understood
without some explanation.
But you do want a kind of guide.
This language has become established
and is fully integrated in the musical language of the classical world
as the natural further development of the musical language of Bach or Mozart
Schubert, Brahms, Mahler, Berg, Weber, and today... Carter.
When you're playing a new score that
no one else ever played before you, since it is a world premiere,
is there any particular difference to the manner
in which you prepare compared with 'old' works?
Absolutely, when you discover a new work,
it's really like going somewhere you've never been.
You have no idea when the ground might fall away beneath your feet,
or how the different performers react to one another.
Is there any kind of a cushion between the instruments?
You don't know if you'll get the feeling of being attacked around the next corner.
You have to be careful, especially on the lookout and respectful.
But once you've completely worked your way
through the piece for the first time
and you begin to review the piece for the second time,
it's a little like going into a museum and seeing a new work hanging there.
It was never hanging in that room before and now it's there.
The room feels completely different and you are initially irritated.
But then you look at the work a little more closely and get used to the new work
and you notice the texture of the work, how it's put together.
And taking a few steps back you look at the work from different angles.
And you notice 'aha, there's this aspect or that one...' this surface, this material.
And that's exactly how we approach a new musical work.
And the analysis of the work takes on a form, a structure of
one has to try to find the key
to how the work is put together it's like sentence structure
in order that it makes sense
it's all words following one anther that make sense in some way
and it's our job as performers to try to understand the composition
preferably without a phone call to the composer.
That's what I was about to ask,
the advantage of working on pieces from living composers
is naturally that you can ask composers questions.
Does it help to talk with the composer?
I don't like too many influences when I'm preparing a new work.
When a composer has reacted to a suggestion to create a piece,
or he approaches us himself with a piece he's composed
that's already quite a step.
But, then you have two different types of work,
the creator, the composer making his piece
and the performer who plays the music or reanimates it, so to speak,
those are two very different roles and I don't want
to have any limiting influence on creativity of the composer.
I think the burning idea, the cry that leads to the birth of the work,
is so very important for the whole world, but for me as a musician
it's the only way I can move ahead.
If I give a commission for a work to be composed,
tailor-made for me, then no one moves ahead.
It may be a personal 'tour-de-force' that
shows off my talents but it becomes self-serving,
and that isn't what musical creation is supposed to be about.
My job is to serve the composition as best
I can understand and interpret it to the world.
So a composer needs to know that as soon as he allows a work to be printed.
It belongs to the whole world and everyone can play it the way they'd like.
And it's like a newborn that begins to make its way
and master its own future.