Johann Hermann Schein

(Grünhain-Beierfeld, 20 January 1586 – Leipzig, 19 November 1630)

Johann Hermann Schein (Grünhain-Beierfeld, 20 January 1586 – Leipzig, 19 November 1630), together with Heinrich Schütz and Samuel Schütz, was the greatest German composer of the first half of the 17th century. One of his famous works is the Musical Banquet, composed in Leipzig in 1617, comprising nineteen Suites for various instruments. Other collections he published include Cimbalum Sionium, Israelis Brünnlein, Opella Nova I and II, and Venus Kräntzelein.

He was the fifth son of the Protestant pastor Hieronymus Schein, originally from Dresden. He spent his early years in Grünhain, in the Erzgebirge.

After the pastor died in 1593, the mother returned with her son to her parent's home in Dresden, partly because the new pastor needed the house in Grünhain and partly because she could barely earn a living in that small town. In Dresden, Schein developed his talent for singing in the children's choir of the Dresdner Hofkapelle, part of the choir of the principality, under the guidance of Rogier Michael and was a soprano until 1603. After his voice had changed, he was sent to further his education at the principality's state school in Pforta, where he was admitted on 18 May 1603. Here, he learned the fundamentals of musical knowledge very well. However, he returned to Dresden in April 1607.

He had already been enrolled at the University of Leipzig since 1603, so he could not begin until 1608. He studied law and liberal arts and received a scholarship as a former member of the princely choir. Although he had taken up the study of law seriously (he graduated in 1612), his interest lay more in poetry and music, and he began to compose. In 1609, he published his first musical work, Das Venus Kräntzlein (The Crown of Venus), a secular piece for choirs of five to eight voices and instrumental parts.

In 1613, Schein became a music teacher in Weissenfels to Gottfried von Wolffersdorf, who had met him in Pforta, after which he was appointed the family's musical director. He had not, however, given up composing, and in 1614, he published Cymbalum Sionium, a work in the form of sacred motets in Latin and German. In the autumn of 1616, Schein was appointed Sethus Calvisius' successor as Thomaskantor of the Thomasschule and music director of Leipzig. The considerable commitments associated with the role of cantor and music director of the Thomasschule, which included liturgical service in the churches of St. Nicholas and St. Thomas and accompanying weddings, baptisms, funerals, and city events, significantly weakened his health.

In Weimar, he married Sidonia, daughter of the official of the Saxon principality Eusebius Hösel. Three daughters died in infancy, and Sidonia herself died in 1624 at the birth of her third daughter; only the two sons survived their father.

In 1625, he married Elisabeth von Perre, daughter of the painter Johann von der Perre. Of the five children born to this marriage, four died in infancy.

In the second edition of 1645 of his Cantionale, which Schein began compiling in 1629, there are 58 pieces composed by the Author himself, including funeral songs dedicated to his first wife and seven of his children.

He himself was often ill. Despite suffering from lung disease and kidney problems, he continued to work as a teacher, choirmaster, organist, and composer. He twice sought treatment in the city of Karlsbad but received no relief. He died before he was 45 years old. Heinrich Schütz composed a funeral lament in his honor. He was buried in his hometown, where an epitaph can be found in the church of St. Nicholas; a monument in front of the church commemorates the musician.

Israelis Brünnlein ("The Fountains of Israel") are spiritual madrigals performed by Gli Angeli Geneve, a baroque ensemble based in Geneva.

Schein was one of Bach's most illustrious predecessors at St. Thomas in Leipzig. His work, long eclipsed by the historical stature of his contemporary Heinrich Schütz, is today recognized as one of the jewels of the Protestant sacred repertoire. Composed "in the manner of an Italian madrigal," the celebrated Fountains of Israel give the Old Testament texts an extraordinarily pertinent and varied musical vision; this way of putting a whole range of means derived directly from Italy at the service of German-language religious music achieves here surprising appropriateness.

 

Johann Hermann Schein

(Grünhain-Beierfeld, 20 gennaio 1586 – Lipsia, 19 novembre 1630)

Johann Hermann Schein (Grünhain-Beierfeld, 20 gennaio 1586 – Lipsia, 19 novembre 1630), insieme a Heinrich Schütz e Samuel Schütz fu il più grande compositore tedesco della prima metà del XVII secolo. Una sua celebre opera è il Banchetto Musicale, composto a Lipsia nel 1617, comprendente diciannove Suites per vari strumenti. Tra le altre raccolte da lui pubblicate si ricordano Cimbalum Sionium, Israelis Brünnlein, Opella Nova I e II e Venus Kräntzelein.

Era il quinto figlio del pastore protestante Hieronymus Schein, originario di Dresda, e visse i primi anni a Grünhain, nell'Erzgebirge.

Dopo la morte del pastore, avvenuta nel 1593, la madre tornò con il figlio nella casa dei propri genitori a Dresda, in parte perché la casa di Grünhain serviva al nuovo pastore, e in parte perché in quella piccola città riusciva a stento a procurarsi di che vivere. A Dresda Schein poté sviluppare il suo talento per il canto nel coro di voci bianche della Dresdner Hofkapelle, facente parte della cantoria del principato, sotto la guida di Rogier Michael e fino al 1603 fu soprano. Dopo il cambio della voce fu mandato ad approfondire la sua formazione nella scuola regionale del principato a Pforta, dove fu ammesso il 18 maggio 1603. Qui imparò ottimamente i fondamenti della conoscenza musicale; tuttavia tornò a Dresda nell'aprile del 1607.

Già iscritto all'Università di Lipsia fin dal 1603, non poté iniziare prima del 1608. Studiò giurisprudenza e arti liberali e, in qualità di ex membro della cantoria del principato, riceveva una borsa di studio. Anche se aveva intrapreso seriamente lo studio del diritto (si laureò nel 1612), il suo interesse era rivolto maggiormente a poesia e musica, e cominciò a comporre. Nel 1609 pubblicò la sua prima opera musicale dal titolo Das Venus Kräntzlein (La coroncina di Venere), brano di musica profana per cori da cinque fino a otto voci e parti strumentali.

Nel 1613 Schein divenne insegnante di musica a Weißenfels di Gottfried von Wolffersdorf, che lo aveva conosciuto a Pforta, dopo di che gli venne assegnato il ruolo di direttore musicale della famiglia. Non aveva però rinunciato a comporre, e infatti nel 1614 pubblicò Cymbalum Sionium, opera in forma di mottetti di carattere sacro, in latino e tedesco. Nell'autunno del 1616 Schein fu nominato successore di Sethus Calvisius come Thomaskantor della Thomasschule e direttore musicale della città di Lipsia. I notevoli impegni legati al ruolo di cantore e direttore musicale della Thomasschule, che comprendevano il servizio liturgico nelle chiese di San Nicola e di San Tommaso, nonché l'accompagnamento di matrimoni, battesimi, funerali e manifestazioni del cittadine, indebolirono molto la sua salute.

A Weimar sposò Sidonia, figlia del funzionario del principato sassone Eusebius Hösel. Tre figlie morirono in tenera età e Sidonia stessa morì nel 1624 alla nascita della terza figlia; solo i due figli maschi sopravvissero al padre.

Nel 1625 sposò Elisabetta del Perre, figlia del pittore Johann von der Perre. Dei cinque figli nati da questo matrimonio, quattro morirono nell'infanzia. 

Nella seconda edizione del 1645 del suo Cantionale, che Schein iniziò a costruire a partire dal 1629, ci sono 58 brani composti dall'Autore stesso, tra i quali i canti funebri dedicati alla prima moglie e a sette dei suoi figli.

Lui stesso era spesso malato. Nonostante fosse affetto da malattie polmonari e problemi renali, continuò a lavorare come insegnante, direttore di coro, organista e compositore. Ricorse due volte a cure nella città di Karlsbad, ma senza riceverne alcun sollievo. Morì prima ancora di compiere 45 anni. Heinrich Schütz compose un lamento funebre in suo onore. Fu seppellito nella sua città natale, nella cui chiesa di San Nicola si trova un epitaffio; davanti alla chiesa un monumento ricorda il musicista.

Israelis Brünnlein ("Le fontane d'Israele"), madrigali spirituali è eseguito a cura de Gli Angeli Geneve, un ensemble barocco con sede a Ginevra.

Schein fu uno dei più illustri predecessori di Bach alla St. Thomas di Lipsia. La sua opera, eclissata per lungo tempo dalla statura storica del suo contemporaneo Heinrich Schütz, è oggi riconosciuta come uno dei gioielli del repertorio sacro protestante. Composte "alla maniera di un madrigale italiano", le celebri Fontane d'Israele conferiscono ai testi dell'Antico Testamento una straordinaria visione musicale pertinente e varia; questo modo di mettere un'intera gamma di mezzi derivati ​​direttamente dall'Italia al servizio della musica religiosa in lingua tedesca raggiunge qui una sorprendente appropriatezza.

Johann Hermann Schein

 

 (Grünhain-Beierfeld, 20. Januar 1586 – Leipzig, 19. November 1630) 

Johann Hermann Schein (Grünhain-Beierfeld, 20. Januar 1586 – Leipzig, 19. November 1630) war neben Heinrich Schütz und Samuel Schütz der größte deutsche Komponist der ersten Hälfte des 17. Jahrhunderts. Eines seiner berühmtesten Werke ist das 1617 in Leipzig komponierte „Musikalische Gastmahl“, das aus neunzehn Suiten für verschiedene Instrumente besteht. Weitere von ihm veröffentlichte Sammlungen sind Cimbalum Sionium, Israelis Brünnlein, Opella Nova I und II und Venus Kräntzelein.

Er war der fünfte Sohn des aus Dresden stammenden evangelischen Pfarrers Hieronymus Schein und verbrachte seine frühen Jahre in Grünhain im Erzgebirge.

Nach dem Tod des Pfarrers im Jahr 1593 kehrte die Mutter mit ihrem Sohn in ihr Elternhaus nach Dresden zurück, zum einen, weil der neue Pfarrer das Haus in Grünhain benötigte, zum anderen, weil sie in der Kleinstadt kaum über die Runden kam. In Dresden konnte Schein ihr Gesangstalent im Kinderchor der Dresdner Hofkapelle, einem Teil des Fürstentumschores, unter der Leitung von Rogier Michael entfalten und war bis 1603 Sopranist. Nach einem Stimmbruch wurde er zur weiteren Ausbildung an die fürstliche Landesschule Pforta geschickt, wo er am 18. Mai 1603 aufgenommen wurde. Hier erlernte er die Grundlagen der Musik sehr gut; Im April 1607 kehrte er jedoch nach Dresden zurück.

Obwohl er bereits seit 1603 an der Universität Leipzig immatrikuliert war, konnte er sein Studium erst 1608 aufnehmen. Er studierte Jura und Geisteswissenschaften und erhielt als ehemaliges Mitglied des fürstlichen Chors ein Stipendium. Obwohl er ernsthaft Jura studierte (er schloss sein Studium 1612 ab), interessierte er sich mehr für Poesie und Musik und begann zu komponieren. Im Jahr 1609 veröffentlichte er sein erstes musikalisches Werk mit dem Titel „Das Venus Kräntzlein“, ein weltliches Musikstück für Chöre mit fünf bis acht Stimmen und Instrumentalstimmen.

Im Jahr 1613 wurde Schein in Weißenfels Musiklehrer bei Gottfried von Wolffersdorf, der ihn in Pforta kennengelernt hatte, und übernahm anschließend die Rolle des Musikdirektors der Familie. Er gab das Komponieren jedoch nicht auf und veröffentlichte 1614 sogar Cymbalum Sionium, ein Werk in Form geistlicher Motetten in lateinischer und deutscher Sprache. Im Herbst 1616 wurde Schein als Nachfolger von Sethus Calvisius zum Thomaskantor der Thomasschule und Musikdirektor der Stadt Leipzig ernannt. Die erheblichen Verpflichtungen als Kantor und musikalischer Leiter der Thomasschule, die neben der liturgischen Betreuung in den Kirchen St. Nikolai und St. Thomas auch die Begleitung von Hochzeiten, Taufen, Beerdigungen und städtischen Veranstaltungen umfassten, schwächten seine Gesundheit stark.

In Weimar heiratete er Sidonia, die Tochter des sächsischen Fürstenbeamten Eusebius Hösel. Drei Töchter starben im Säuglingsalter und Sidonia selbst starb 1624 bei der Geburt ihrer dritten Tochter; Nur die beiden Söhne überlebten ihren Vater.

1625 heiratete er Elisabetta del Perre, die Tochter des Malers Johann von der Perre. Von den fünf Kindern aus dieser Ehe starben vier im Säuglingsalter.

In der zweiten Ausgabe seines Cantionale aus dem Jahr 1645, mit dessen Aufbau Schein ab 1629 begann, finden sich 58 vom Autor selbst komponierte Stücke, darunter auch Trauerlieder, die seiner ersten Frau und sieben seiner Kinder gewidmet waren.

Er selbst war oft krank. Obwohl er an einer Lungenerkrankung und Nierenproblemen litt, arbeitete er weiterhin als Lehrer, Chorleiter, Organist und Komponist. Zweimal suchte er in der Stadt Karlsbad eine Behandlung auf, doch seine Beschwerden ließen nicht nach. Er starb, bevor er 45 wurde. Heinrich Schütz verfasste ihm zu Ehren eine Trauerklage. Er wurde in seiner Heimatstadt begraben, in deren Kirche St. Nikolaus sich eine Grabinschrift befindet; Vor der Kirche erinnert ein Denkmal an den Musiker.

Israelis Brünnlein („Die Brunnen Israels“), spirituelle Madrigale, werden von Gli Angeli Geneve aufgeführt, einem Barockensemble mit Sitz in Genf.

Schein war einer der berühmtesten Vorgänger Bachs an der Thomaskirche in Leipzig. Sein Werk, das lange Zeit durch die historische Bedeutung seines Zeitgenossen Heinrich Schütz in den Schatten gestellt wurde, gilt heute als eines der Juwelen des protestantischen geistlichen Repertoires. Die berühmten „Fountains of Israel“ wurden „im Stil eines italienischen Madrigals“ komponiert und verleihen den Texten des Alten Testaments eine außergewöhnliche musikalische Vision, die relevant und abwechslungsreich ist. Diese Art, eine ganze Reihe unmittelbar aus Italien stammender Mittel in den Dienst der deutschsprachigen geistlichen Musik zu stellen, erreicht hier eine überraschende Angemessenheit.

Word Shards – Anthology (M. C. Buoso) - Review by Maria Teresa De Donato

 

Word Shards – Anthology by Maria Cristina Buoso

 

Review by Maria Teresa De Donato

 

A remarkable expressive ability and a desire for experimentation characterize Maria Cristina Buoso’s literary production.

 

In Schegge di parole (= Word Shards), this second aspect certainly dominates and takes the reader back, at least as far as the form is concerned, to the literary avant-gardes of the early twentieth century. These avant-gardes aimed to break with the past and with tradition and, on the contrary, projected towards the future, modernity, speed, and technology. This was especially true of the futurist current this Anthology is inspired by.

 

From an aesthetic point of view, onomatopoeic expressions, ‘free words’ that do not respect the use of margins, uppercase, and lowercase letters used to emphasize concepts and feelings rather than respecting spelling rules; extremely short sentences, often expressed by a single verb are like bullets that hit a target, they get straight to the point, they do not get lost in explanations or narratives.

 

The concept is clear, and the message is almost brutal. There are no embellishments of any kind.

 

The precariousness of Life is denounced openly and without subterfuge or euphemisms:

 

                   *Let's Paint

with our Hands

So as NOT to Dirty our Hearts

with Too Much Joy.* (Buoso, 2021, p. 12)

 

The theme of femininity is also present in this work. However, it is not a superficial, ephemeral, or sappy femininity, but rather an authentic, visceral, rebellious, and contesting one that scrupulously observes the world around her and, in particular, her own "cracks":

 

                   I am a shadow

That CROSSES My Body

That Trudges Tired

[…]

Among Lost Petals    […]

Of Dust and Smoke. (p. 13)

 

Aspects such as fake feelings, indifference, and hostility are denounced by highlighting the spiritual poverty that dominates today's world full of "soulless bodies..." (p. 19)

Parentheses used in reverse and interspersed with suspension points seem to be the metaphor of how everything and the opposite of everything is possible: nothing is certain, nothing is defined, everything is yet to be discovered, understood, evolved ... while the observer can only wait for what must happen ... to reveal itself.

For the reader who goes beyond the aesthetic examination, Schegge di parole is an Anthology of profound concepts, truths, even burning ones, that are shouted and revealed without subterfuge or word games. Those who must understand ... and want to  ... they will, while the others ... shall continue to lead their meaningless life

 

                   “In the Coldness of the Winter

Of a Modern World.* (p. 44)

 

A further characteristic of this work is the alternating sensations, feelings, hopes, and desires, through which it distances itself from Futurism precisely because of these aspects.

Although from an aesthetic point of view, this Anthology takes us back to Filippo Tommaso Marinetti and the Manifesto of the avant-garde literary movement he developed, in substance we perceive from the verses of the author, Maria Cristina Buoso, a feeling of anger and frustration, but also a nostalgic streak for something that Humanity has lost and that seems difficult, if not impossible, to recover and, therefore, the consequent and veiled regret for a tradition and a past that are certainly more significant.

 

Schegge di parole – Silloge (M. C. Buoso) - Recensione di Maria Teresa De Donato

 

Schegge di parole – Silloge di Maria Cristina Buoso

 

Recensione di Maria Teresa De Donato

 

Una capacità espressiva notevole ed un desiderio di sperimentazione caratterizzano la produzione letteraria di Maria Cristina Buoso.                

In Schegge di parole questo secondo aspetto domina sicuramente e riporta il lettore, almeno per ciò che concerne la forma, alle avanguardie letterarie degli inizi del Novecento, che miravano alla rottura con il passato e con la tradizione e, al contrario, erano proiettate verso il futuro, la modernità, la velocità e la tecnologia.

Questo fu il caso soprattutto della corrente futurista cui questa Silloge sembra ispirarsi.

Da un punto di vista estetico, espressioni onomatopeiche, ‘parole in libertà’ che non rispettano l’uso dei margini; maiuscole e minuscole usate per enfatizzare concetti e sentimenti piuttosto che rispettare regole di ortografia; frasi estremamente brevi, spesso espresse da un singolo verbo sono come proiettili che colpiscono un bersaglio, arrivano dritti al punto, non si perdono in spiegazioni o narrative.

Il concetto è chiaro, il messaggio quasi brutale. Non ci sono abbellimenti di alcun tipo.

La precarietà della Vita viene denunciata apertamente e senza sotterfugi né eufemismi:

 

                   *Dipingiamo

                                        con le Mani

                             Per Non Sporcare il Cuore

                                      con Troppa Allegria.* (Buoso, 2021, p. 12)

 

Il tema della femminilità è anche presente in questa opera.  Non si tratta, tuttavia, di una femminilità superficiale, effimera o sdolcinata, ma piuttosto autentica, viscerale, ribelle e contestatrice che osserva scrupolosamente il mondo intorno a sé ed in modo particolare le proprie “crepe”:

 

                   Sono un’ombra

                             Che ATTRAVERSA il Mio Corpo

                                                          Che Arranca Stanco

                   […]

                   Tra Petali Smarriti      […]

                                                Di Polvere e di Fumo. (p. 13)

 

Aspetti quali falsi sentimenti, indifferenza ed ostilità vengono denunciati evidenziando la povertà spirituale che domina il Mondo di oggi pieno di “corpi senz’anima…” (p. 19)

Parentesi utilizzate al contrario ed inframezzate da puntini di sospensione sembrano essere la metafora di come tutto ed il contrario di tutto sia possibile: nulla è certo, nulla è definito, tutto è ancora da scoprire, da capire, da evolversi…mentre all’osservatore non resta che aspettare che ciò che deve essere… si riveli.

Per il lettore che non si fermasse all’esame estetico, Schegge di parole è una Silloge dai concetti profondi, dalle verità, anche scottanti, che vengono urlate, rivelate senza sotterfugi né giochi di parole.  Chi deve capire… e vuol capire… capirà, mentre gli altri… continueranno a condurre la loro vita priva di senso

 

“Nel Freddo dell’Inverno

Di un Mondo Moderno.* (p. 44)

 

L’altalenarsi di sensazioni, sentimenti, speranze e desideri è un’ulteriore caratteristica di questo lavoro che, proprio per questi aspetti, di fatto si distanzia dal Futurismo.

Se dal punto di vista estetico questa Silloge ci riporta, quindi, a Filippo Tommaso Marinetti e al Manifesto della corrente letteraria d’avanguardia da lui elaborato, nella sostanza si percepisce dai versi dell’autrice, Maria Cristian Buoso, un sentimento sì di rabbia e frustrazione, ma anche una vena nostalgica per un qualcosa che l’Umanità ha perduto e che sembra difficile, se non impossibile, recuperare e, quindi, il conseguente e velato rimpianto per una tradizione ed un passato certamente più significativi.

 

Wortfragmente – Anthologie (M. C. Buoso) - Rezension von Maria Teresa De Donato

 

Wortfragmente – Anthologie von Maria Cristina Buoso

 

Rezension von Maria Teresa De Donato

 

Eine bemerkenswerte Ausdrucksfähigkeit und Experimentierfreude kennzeichnen das literarische Schaffen von Maria Cristina Buoso.

In Schegge di parole (= Wortfragmente) dominiert dieser zweite Aspekt zweifellos und führt den Leser, zumindest was die Form betrifft, zurück zu den literarischen Avantgarden des frühen zwanzigsten Jahrhunderts, die darauf abzielten, mit der Vergangenheit und der Tradition zu brechen und im Gegenteil auf die Zukunft, Modernität, Geschwindigkeit und Technologie ausgerichtet waren.

Dies traf insbesondere auf die futuristische Bewegung zu, von der diese Kollektion inspiriert zu sein scheint. Aus ästhetischer Sicht lautmalerische Ausdrücke, „freie Wörter“, die die Verwendung von Rändern nicht respektieren; Groß- und Kleinbuchstaben werden verwendet, um Konzepte und Gefühle hervorzuheben, anstatt Rechtschreibregeln zu befolgen; Extrem kurze Sätze, oft durch ein einziges Verb ausgedrückt, sind wie Kugeln, die ihr Ziel treffen: Sie kommen direkt auf den Punkt und verlieren sich nicht in Erklärungen oder Erzählungen.

Das Konzept ist klar, die Botschaft fast brutal. Es gibt keinerlei Verzierungen. Die Unsicherheit des Lebens wird offen und ohne Ausreden oder Euphemismen angeprangert:

 

                   *Lass uns malen

mit den Händen

um das Herz mit zu viel Freude

nicht zu beschmutzen .* (Buoso, 2021, S. 12)

 

Auch das Thema Weiblichkeit ist in dieser Arbeit präsent. Es handelt sich jedoch nicht um eine oberflächliche, flüchtige oder zuckersüße Weiblichkeit, sondern vielmehr um eine authentische, aus dem Bauch kommende, rebellische und protestierende Weiblichkeit, die die Welt um sie herum und insbesondere ihre eigenen „Risse“ gewissenhaft beobachtet:

 

Ich bin ein Schatten

Das DURCH meinen Körper GEHT

Das müde beginnt

 

[…]

                   Unter verlorenen Blütenblättern […]

Aus Staub und Rauch. (Seite 13)

 

 

Aspekte wie falsche Gefühle, Gleichgültigkeit und Feindseligkeit werden angeprangert und die geistige Armut hervorgehoben, die in der heutigen Welt voller „Körper ohne Seelen …“ herrscht (S. 19).

Rückwärts verwendete Klammern, durchsetzt mit Aufhängungspunkten, scheinen eine Metapher dafür zu sein, dass alles und das Gegenteil von allem möglich ist: Nichts ist sicher, nichts ist definiert, alles muss noch entdeckt, verstanden und entwickelt werden … während der Betrachter müssen wir nicht einfach warten, bis das, was geschehen soll, enthüllt wird.

Für den Leser, der nicht bei der ästhetischen Betrachtung stehen bleibt, ist Schegge di parole eine Anthologie tiefgründiger Konzepte, Wahrheiten, auch brennender, die ohne Ausflüchte oder Wortspiele herausgeschrien und enthüllt werden. Wer verstehen muss ... und verstehen will, ... wird verstehen, während die anderen weiterhin ihr sinnloses Leben führen werden.

 

                   „In der Kälte des Winters

Von einer modernen Welt.* (S. 44)

 

Der Wechsel von Empfindungen, Gefühlen, Hoffnungen und Wünschen ist ein weiteres Charakteristikum dieser Arbeit, die sich gerade in diesen Aspekten vom Futurismus abgrenzt.

Wenn uns diese Anthologie aus ästhetischer Sicht zurück zu Filippo Tommaso Marinetti und dem Manifest der von ihm entwickelten avantgardistischen literarischen Bewegung führt, so spüren wir in den Versen der Autorin Maria Cristian Buoso im Wesentlichen ein Gefühl von Wut und Frustration, aber auch eine nostalgische Ader nach etwas, das die Menschheit verloren hat und das nur schwer, wenn nicht gar unmöglich wiederzuerlangen scheint, und daher das daraus resultierende und verschleierte Bedauern gegenüber einer Tradition und Vergangenheit, die sicherlich bedeutsamer sind.

  

 

 

 

Onutė Narbutaitė

 

Onutė Narbutaitė was born in 1956 in Vilnius in the family of musicologist Ona Narbutienė and geologist Vytautas Narbutas.

She learned the basics of composition from Bronius Kutavičius and graduated in 1979 from the Lithuanian State Conservatory (now the Lithuanian Academy of Music and Drama), where she studied composition with Prof. Julius Juzeliūnas. From 1979 to 1982, she taught music theory and history at the Klaipėda Faculty of the Lithuanian State Conservatory. Since 1982, she has concentrated exclusively on her creative work and lives in Vilnius.

Even in the 1980s, Onutė Narbutaitė enjoyed a reputation as a composer of subtle chamber music. Her early works were suffused with depictions of "night," "silence," and "oblivion"; her compositions, unhurried in their flow, with their transparent textures and nostalgic mood, often resembled the pages of a diary written in sounds. The composer's music underwent a significant transformation in the years following Lithuania's independence. First, Narbutaitė devoted herself to large-scale symphonic and symphonic-vocal works. Maintaining her undeniably creative independence, she developed an expressive musical language characterized by cerebral nature and structured thinking, expressive instrumentation and haunting melodic quality, lush harmonies and textures, and an intense musical flow. The subtle sonic imagination of her music is in harmony with the rich cultural references found in it.

We can say that Onutė Narbutaitė is today one of the few composers whose music bears the mark of exceptional individuality and is recognizable from the first bars of all her compositions. In addition to the broad spectrum of various emotional states and feelings in the creative work, what is also palpable is the sense of aristocratic restraint and strong compositional discipline that only increases the music's emotional impact. However, the constructive origin is not manifested by systems of organization of various musical parameters borrowed from others or created by her. Narbutaitė's intellectual works do not resemble 'mechanical production' but 'manual work' performed with great precision. The rationality of her composition is revealed through meticulously detailed textures, precise proportions of smaller or larger sections, the overall shape, and the not immediately perceptible interaction of the minor details. At the same time, the abstract musical narrative is highly expressive, clearly emerges, and often resembles "something familiar." Perhaps the aptest description of her current work was given by the American musicologist Richard Taruskin: 'Not "tonal." Not "romantic". Not "retro". Consonant.'

Onute Narbutaite's "Was There a Butterfly?" composition for chamber orchestra (2013)

Written on commission by the Ostrobothnian Chamber Orchestra and dedicated to the conductor Juha Kangas and the Ostrobothnian Chamber Orchestra. The initial musical idea and working title of the piece was Ostinato. As a constant repetition of musical patterns, Ostinato connotes a constant return to the same place, memory, and dream – dark and deep. The butterfly flew onto the title only after completing the work, but not by chance. It continued to flutter in various forms throughout the writing process, in the corners of the mind. Like a mysterious breath, a shadow of Psyche – in ancient Greek, the same word indicates Psyche, soul, breath, and butterfly. Or, as a symbol of metamorphosis, the idea of ​​a momentary unfurling of wings. In this regard, it would be appropriate to quote a joke by Czesław Miłosz: Why does a butterfly spread its wings for a flight measured by the grains of an hourglass?