Wednesday, April 3, 2024

Alfred Garryevich Schnittke

 

(Ėngel's, November 24, 1934 - Hamburg, August 3, 1998)


He was a Russian composer and pianist. His father was born in Frankfurt to a Jewish family that moved to the Soviet Union in 1926, and his mother was a German of the Volga who was born in Russia.

Alfred's life and music were deeply influenced by his faith. Born in Ėngel's in the Republic of the Volga of the Russian Federation, in the Soviet Union, he began his musical studies in 1946 in Vienna, where his father, journalist and translator, had been sent. In 1948, the family moved to Moscow. He graduated in composition at the Moscow Conservatory in 1961 and taught you from 1962 to 1972. Later, he earned a living mainly thanks to the composition of cinematographic soundtracks. Schnittke's conversion to Christianity marked a turning point in his life and his music. His faith was characterized by a profound mysticism that became a significant part of his artistic expression. In the 1960s he studied at the Moscow Conservatory where, among his composition teachers, there was Evgeny Golubev.

Schnittke's life was a testament to his resilience. Despite being the subject of attention by the Soviet bureaucracy, his first symphony was banned by the Union of Composers. Even after his abstention from one vote within the union itself in 1980, he was prevented from leaving the Soviet Union. In 1985, Schnittke had a stroke that left him in a coma for a certain period. On several occasions, he was close to death, but he recovered and continued to compose. In 1990, Schnittke left the Soviet Union and settled in Hamburg, where he died on August 3, 1998, after years of major health problems and several apoplectic attacks.

Symphony No. 1, a work that was not his first, was a testament to Schnittke's innovative approach. Slowly composed between 1969-72, the authorities did not allow its performance in Moscow until twenty years after the fall of the Soviet Union. The reaction to the first performance was not just enthusiastic, but a stimulating shock for many musicians and music lovers. They had never heard of such a unique blend of genres and themes before.

The symphony was born when Schnittke wrote the music for Mikhail Romm's film "And in any case, I think." The composer said, "Looking through thousands of meters of film, an apparently chaotic but at the same time ordered chronicle of the twentieth century has gradually trained in my mind. My symphony has no program. But if the tragic and incredible chronicle of our time had not been imprinted in my conscience, I could not have written this music. "

The first movement opens with a single player in sight and no conductor to see. In the words of Schnittke, it is an "unreal beginning" in the sense that the sound of bells indicates a sphere beyond what is known. Thus, immediately, an anguish was born concerning space. A trumpeter arrives, improvising. In a short time, the other orchestral musicians rush to the platform. The sound collage is arrested only when the conductor arrives. The first natural movement begins with the tensions between note C played in unison, groups of twelve tones; then, there is a foxtrot inside a cheerful baroque.

The batteries and dispersion of what is converging give way to a free cadence for the trombone alone. In a section, Andante glimpses the music of "chaos" at the beginning of the last movement of Beethoven's Ninth. From the following crescendo of wind, the emerging theme that follows the transition in the last movement of the fifth of Beethoven is born. This is suddenly torpedoed. The movement ends with a thematic material that unfolds slowly, becoming a crucial feature of Schnittke's music more than twenty years later. The trumpet returns, now threatening in its intent.

The second movement opens with a Baroque dance. But soon, he begins to deform. A military march is evoked within a thematic tide wave, in which classic themes are mixed with atonal music and popular gear. The Wagnerian horns are also heard with the Valchirie march. At the center, he suddenly bursts a long cadence and free improvisation for violin and piano duo (the manuscript reads: free cadence of the victory of the incidental). Continue with supported notes that return to quotes and improvisations from the beginning. The movement ends with a total discord between the musicians. Wood and Brass leave the scene, abandoning the arches and percussion alone in a transition to the next part.

The third movement begins in silence, with interruptions of the plan and vibraphone. The arches start a long and slow growing, flanked by percussion in the final part. Music acquires an air character, almost ghostly, returning to the initial calm. Schnittke's sound world recalls the Triad of Mi Bemolle Major at the beginning of "Das Rheingold." But the relationship of the cadences between them is unequivocally tragic, moving towards one in unison and, without stopping, in the final movement.

The fourth movement begins with the return of wind players who gently introduce a discordant funeral march. It continues with a section of random music, interrupted by strong agreements and percussion improvisations. An amalgam of quotes is presented, including Mahler's fifth symphony, the first piano concert by Tchaikovsky, and even a Strauss waltz. A crescendo as a nightmare appears, in which the reason dies Irae emerges from apparently anarchist sounds. A row of twelve tones is formed, but Schnittke perceives a suffocating tyranny: it is resolved with a jazzed quote of what was a current "hit" at the time and which was born from two notes of the dies Irae.