The twentieth century witnessed unprecedented development in the spheres of technology and science. This could not be overlooked by the creative part of society: the musicians of the century reflected the tendency to intellectualism, scientific perception of the world, and mechanization processes in their works. Together with this, they maintained active interest in and drew inspiration from their national identities and heritage, as well as in the artifacts of general historical value.
The listed tendencies can be traced in such works as Sergei Prokofiev’s Piano Concerto #3, Ottorino Respighi’s “Pines of Rome”, and Carl Orff’s Carmina Burana. This report considers performances of Prokofiev’s Concerto by Martha Argerich, Respighi’s symphonic poem by Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra under Herbert Karajan, and Orff’s cantata by a joint chorus under Jeffrey Thomas.
The Russian modernist composer Sergey Prokofiev is famous for his piano performance skills as well. His mastery of the instrument allowed him to experiment in the sphere of piano music, discovering new playing and sound generating techniques. Prokofiev also experimented with various genres and forms of piano music.
In the context of his revolutionary style, his Piano Concerto #3 (1921) appears to be quite complying with the traditional standards of a three-movement design. This Concerto is now among the most widely known and performed Prokofiev’s large works for piano, by large due to its recognizable and distinctive melodies.
The whole piece, even some of its lyrical parts, is penetrated by Prokofiev’s sharp sarcastic humor. Starting by a nostalgic Russian-style lyrical melody performed by clarinet solo and carried on by the strings, the first Adagio-Allegro quickly passes to an active burst of passages and chords in a much faster tempo.
The stirring dialogue of the piano and orchestra soon comes off to a march-like chord theme performed by piano solo, followed by a strictly rhythmic new theme in the orchestra. After the next fragment of dialogue between the soloist and the orchestra, the initial nostalgic melody reappears played by the whole orchestra and varied afterwards by the piano flowing in a Rachmaninov-like meditative figuration.
This pensiveness is interrupted by a sudden passage which brings back the second, active theme of the movement. The rest of the movement is dedicated to incredibly virtuosic piano tricks in active motion, featuring, inter alia, glissandos and the famous Prokofiev’s technique of playing with one hand over the other.
The second movement, Thema con Variazioni, is opened by a coquette march-like yet softly laid out melody performed by the wood winds and further developed in a series of variations. While the first one is still rather lyrical, the following two go in a more active tempo and let the pianist demonstrate technical mastery in octave passages that merge with the orchestra’s mass. The fourth variation appears a lyrical reminiscence of the initial theme in a pseudo-Romantic style, with arpeggios and trills reminding of Chopin’s nocturnes.
It is followed by another shift of tempo to allegro, and begins as a playful scherzando developing into a sound mass featuring the virtuosic side of pianism and finishing by a conciliatory chord of the orchestra and the soloist. Wood winds, namely bassoons, open the last movement Allegro ma non troppo in another type of march-like motion.
The piano does not take long to burst in with a series of passages spanning the whole keyboard. The next thematic fragment features syncopes against a sharp rhythmical ostinato in the orchestra. After a sarcastic wrangle between the soloist and the orchestra, the latter enters with a new, lyrical theme to which the piano replies as if teasingly with repeated notes and swift ascending gammas.
Gradually the wood winds become involved in this teasing theme but the lyrical mood wins over and the piano merges with the orchestra providing harmonic support to its lengthy broad melody. But Prokofiev’s sarcastic nature does not calm down in this lyrical rest, and the concert ends in another burst of the pianist’s fiery virtuosity designating the victory of the composer’s “caustic humor” (Steinberg 349).
The Italian composer Ottorino Respighi was one of the first representatives of the national composer school who realized that Italian music is not only about opera. Illustrating this are his multiple symphonic works, among which a series of musical sketches of Rome are especially popular.
One of them, “The Pines of Rome”, is characterized by not simply imitating or describing the nature but rather depicting memories and impressions inspired by it (Ferguson 458). For each of the four movements Respighi provides a clear program that serves as a departure point for the listener’s imagination.
The first movements, “The Pines of Villa Borghese”, depicts children playing, twittering and imitating soldier’s marches. Their noisy behavior is rendered by the high trills and passages of wood winds, as well as march-like motion of brass winds. This lively scene gives place to a view of “The Pines near a Catacomb”, with the scaring stillness of the place depicted by the low growling of muted strings.
A mysterious muted melody as if rises from the depth of the vault and then falls back into eternal silence. The next movement, “Pines of the Janiculum” represents a night scene, with a gentle clarinet melody describing a peaceful moonlit landscape. Gradually the whole orchestra joins in a tremulous delight of the scenery and spreads a broad melody in its breath taken admiration.
After a jingling ‘silence’, a nightingale song appears (from a tape recording, naturally) on the soft harmonic background of the orchestra. The final “Pines of the Appian Way” contrast the previous peaceful scenes by their reminiscence of a majestic procession of the Roman army. The heavy tread approaches in an enormous crescendo of the orchestra, and amaze the audience with the trumpets blaring the bygone glory of the past conquerors.
The interest to medieval history is reflected in Carl Orff’s scenic cantata Carmina Burana which he wrote on series of medieval poems glorifying the earthly joys of gluttony, gambling, and lust. Its most famous opening part, “O Fortuna”, strikes the audience by its massive sound in a measured rhythm articulated by the whole enormous cast.
The archaic feeling is created by assigning the choir to sing either in unison or in intervals not more extreme than a third. No big melodic or polyphonic development is observed: the music proceeds in a freely changing meter through unsophisticated harmonies with occasional supplementary tones.
This rhythmic freedom creates the impression of an announcement being made by a large mass of people. Indeed, the textual part of the piece concerns hailing and cursing the unsteady Fortune which rules everything in people’s lives (Orff et al. 9–11). The feeling of dominance is achieved through the unity of the gigantic choir and orchestra in one rhythmical and melodic construction.
The three works discussed are most demonstrative of their authors. While Prokofiev deploys his ineradicable sarcasm in the struggle of the comical and the lyrical in Piano Concerto #3, Respighi dwells on the beauty and the glory of the native land in “The Pines of Rome”, and Orff discovers the barbaric beauty of the medieval lyrics in Carmina Burana. This genre diversity is further emphasized by the accomplishments of the twentieth-century orchestration.
Works Cited
Ferguson, Donald Nivison. Masterpieces of the Orchestral Repertoire: A Guide for Listeners. Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press, 1968. Print.
Orff, Carl, Judith Lynn Sebesta, and Jeffrey M. Duban. Carmina Burana: Cantiones Profanae, 2nd ed. Wauconda, IL: Bolchazy-Carducci Publishers, 1996. Print.
Steinbeirg, Michael. The Concerto: A Listener’s Guide. New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 2000. Print.