MUZIKOLOSKI ZBORNIK MUSICOLOGICAL ANNUAL L / 2 ZVEZEK/VOLUME L JUBL JANA2014 Glasba kot sredstvo in predmet v procesih sakralizacije profanega in profanacije sakralnega Sacralization of the Profane and Profanation of the Sacred: Music as a Means and an Object Univerza v Ljubljani Izdaja • Published by Oddelek za muzikologijo Filozofske fakultete Univerze v Ljubljani Urednik zvezka • Edited by Aleš Nagode (Ljubljana) Glavni in odgovorni urednik • Editor-in-chief Jernej Weiss (Ljubljana) Asistentka uredništva • Assistant Editor Tjaša Ribizel (Ljubljana) Uredniški odbor • Editorial Board Matjaž Barbo (Ljubljana) Aleš Nagode (Ljubljana) Svanibor Pettan (Ljubljana) Leon Štefanija (Ljubljana) Andrej Rijavec (Ljubljana), častni urednik • honorary editor Mednarodni uredniški svet • International Advisory Board Michael Beckermann (Columbia University, USA) Nikša Gligo (University of Zagreb, Croatia) Robert S. Hatten (Indiana University, USA) David Hiley (University of Regensburg, Germany) Thomas Hochradner (Mozarteum Salzburg, Austria) Bruno Nettl (University of Illinois, USA) Helmut Loos (University of Leipzig, Germany) Jim Samson (Royal Holloway University of London, UK) Lubomir Spurny (Masaryk University Brno, Czech Republic) Katarina Tomaševic (Serbian Academy of Sciences and Arts, Serbia) John Tyrrell (Cardiff University, UK) Michael Walter (University of Graz, Austria) Uredništvo • Editorial Address Oddelek za muzikologijo Filozofska fakulteta Aškerčeva 2, SI-1000 Ljubljana, Slovenija e-mail: muzikoloski.zbornik@ff.uni-lj.si http://revije.ff.uni-lj.si/MuzikoloskiZbornik Cena posamezne številke • Single issue price 10 EUR Letna naročnina • Annual subscription 20 EUR Založila • Published by Znanstvena založba Filozofske fakultete Univerze v Ljubljani Za založbo • For the publisher Branka Kalenic Ramšak, dekanja Filozofske fakultete Tisk • Printed by Birografika Bori d.o.o., Ljubljana Naklada 500 izvodov • Printed in 500 copies Rokopise, publikacije za recenzije, korespondenco in naročila pošljite na naslov izdajatelja. Prispevki naj bodo opremljeni s kratkim povzetkom (200-300 besed), izvlečkom (do 50 besed), ključnimi besedami in kratkimi podatki o avtorju. Nenaročenih rokopisov ne vračamo. Manuscripts, publications for review, correspondence and annual subscription rates should be sent to the editorial address. Contributions should include a short summary (200-300 words), an abstract (not more than 50 words), keywords and a short biographical note on the author Unsolicited manuscripts are not returned Izdajo zbornika je omogočila Javna agencija za raziskovalno dejavnost Republike Slovenije With the support of the Slovenian Research Agency © Univerza v Ljubljani, Filozofska fakulteta, 2014 Vsebina • Contents Wolfgang-Andreas Schultz Musikgeschichte als heilige Geschichte - ein Versuch, die Entwicklung neu zu verstehen Zgodovina glasbe kot sveta zgodovina - poskus novega razumevanja razvoja 7 Janet Danielson Harmony, Sacrifice, and Agamben's Messianic Time Harmonija, žrtvovanje in Agambenov mesijanski čas 17 Marina Ritzarev King David and the Frog Kralj David in žaba 31 Helmut Loos Die kunstreligiöse Botschaft der Leipziger Musikwissenschaft im späten 19. und frühen 20. Jahrhundert Umetnostnoreligiozno sporočilo leipziške muzikologije v poznem 19. in zgodnjem 20. stoletju 43 Elfride Reissig ,Die Dinge stets sich selbst folgen lassen'- Klang und Perzeption bei Giacinto Scelsi „Pustiti, da stvari sledijo same sebi.": Zvok in percepcija pri Giacintu Scelsiju 53 Trena Jordanoska Orient and Occident Encounters in Dimitrije Buzarovski's Oratorio "Radomir's Psalms" Srečanja med Vzhodom in Zahodom v oratoriju »Radomirjevipsalmi«« Dimitrija Buzarovskega 63 John Plemmenos The Rosary and the Rose: Clergymen as Creators of Secular Poetry and Music in Early-modern Balkans Rožni venec in vrtnica: Kleriki kot ustvarjalci posvetne poezije in glasbe na Balkanu v zgodnjem novem veku 77 Vesna Venišnik Instrumental Music and the Franciscan Liturgy Instrumentalna glasba in frančiškanska liturgija 93 Leon Štefanija Profanation in Slovenian contemporary symphonic music? Profanacija v sodobni slovenski simfonični glasbi? 101 Gregor Pompe Sacral rituality and mysticism in the service of the awakening of national identity. Baltic-Balkan parallels in works of B. Kutavičius, L. Lebič and V. Tormis Sakralna ritualnost in misticizem v službi prebujanja nacionalne identitete. Baltiško-balkanske vzporednice v delih B. Kutavičiusa, L. Lebiča in V Tormisa 111 Julija Jonane Sacred Music - a Forbidden Fruit: Musical and Non-musical Ways of Survival Duhovna glasba - prepovedani sad: Glasbeni in neglasbeni načini preživetja 127 Charris Efthimiou Die christlichen und antichristlichen Elemente in der Musik von BLACK SABBATH (1970-1973) Krščanske in protikrščanske prvine v glasbi BLACK SABBATH (1970-1973) 137 Mike Dines The Sacralization of Straightedge Punk: Bhakti-yoga, Nada Brahma and the Divine Received: Embodiment of Krishnacore Sakralizacija straightedge punka: Bhakti-joga, Nada Brahma in prejeto božansko utelešenje Krishnacore 147 Katarina Šter Resacralization of the sacred: Carthusian liturgical plainchant and (re) biblicization of its texts Resakralizacija sakralnega: Bibliciranje besedil spevov kartuzijanske liturgije in kartuzijanski koral 157 Klemen Grabnar Odnos med posvetnim in sakralnim v drugi polovici 16. stoletja na primeru maš Nasce la pena mia Bartolomea Spontoneja in Costanza Antegnatija Secular and Sacred in the Second Half of the Sixteenth Century: The Case of Masses Nasce la pena mia of Bartolomeo Spontone and Costanzo Antegnati 181 Peter Grum Glasbena podoba evharističnega kongresa v Ljubljani leta 1935: Med liturgično prenovo in zunanjim učinkom The Musical Image of the Eucharistic Congress in Ljubljana in 1935: Between Liturgical Renewal and External Effect 199 Thomas Hochradner Revived is the Lord... : Two Readings of a Dramatic Approach in Music Gospod živi...: Dve branji dramatičnega pristopa v glasbi 213 Ana Petrov Listening to Music in 'Holy' Space: The Role of 19th-century Public Concert in the Construction of Kunstreligion Poslušanje glasbe v»posvečenem« prostoru: Vloga javnega koncerta pri ustvarjanju Kunstreligion v 19. stoletju 223 Sanna Iitti The Dionysian signs in Richard Wagner's Tannhäuser Dionizična znamenja v operi Tannhäuser Richarda Wagnerja 231 Marc Brooks The Word is not Enough: Symbol, Myth, and Ritual in Hofmannsthal's Libretto for Arabella Beseda ni dovolj: Simbol, mit in obrednost v Hofmannsthalovem libretu Arabella 239 Matjaž Barbo Resurrecturis - Musical Triptych in the Form of a Concert Requiem, composed by P. Ramovš, J. Trošt, and S. Vremšak Resurrecturis - Glasbeni triptih v obliki koncertnega rekvijema skladateljev P. Ramovša, J. Trošta in S. Vremšaka 251 Primož Trdan Lux aeternas by Two Composers: Sacred and Profane in the Context of Genre Individualisation Lux aeterna dveh skladateljev: sakralno in profane v luči zvrstne individualizacije 273 Drago Kunej Gramofon v službi sakralne glasbe? Gramophone Serving Sacred Music? 279 Jana Michâlkovâ Slimačkova The Sacred and the Profane in the Organ Music of the Czech Lands in the 19th and 20th Centuries Sakralno in profano v orgelski glasbi čeških dežel v 19. in 20. stoletju 293 Darja Koter Musical Symbols: The Symbiosis of Religious and Secular Themes in Art Heritage Glasbeni simboli: Sožitje verskih in posvetnih tem v likovni dediščini 299 Imensko kazalo • Index 309 Avtorji • Contributors 333 UDK 78:165.24(091) DOI: 10.4312/mz.50.2.7-l6 Wolfgang-Andreas Schultz Hochschule für Musik und Theater, Hamburg Visoka šola za glasbo in gledališče, Hamburg Musikgeschichte als heilige Geschichte - ein Versuch, die Entwicklung neu zu verstehen Zgodovina glasbe kot sveta zgodovina -poskus novega razumevanja razvoja Prejeto: 1. marec 2014 Sprejeto: 21. junij 2014 Ključne besede: zgodovina glasbe, evolucija zavesti, duhovnost Izvleček Poskus, da bi glasbenozgodovinske tokove pojasnili z razvijanjem v človeka vsajenih zmožnosti in ne z gibanjem gradiva (Adorno), izhaja iz podobe človeka in teorije evolucije zavesti (Jean Gebser, Ken Wilber idr.). V glasbi po 1600 so se razvile „duhovne signature", katerih možnosti in nevarnosti bodo pregledno predstavljene od baroka do postmoderne. Theoretischer Teil Received: 1st March 2014 Accepted: 21st June 2014 Keywords: history of music, evolution of consciousness, spirituality Abstract The attempt to explain developments in music history, not as movement of material (Adorno) but as the unfolding of man's potentials, has its origin in the image and theory of man as offered by the evolution of consciousness (Jean Gebser, Ken Wilber and others). Since 1600 there has been a development of "spiritual signatures'"; the article gives a survey of its chances and dangers from the Baroque era up to Postmodernism. Wie Musikgeschichte erzählt wird, hängt eng zusammen mit den Idealen der jeweiligen Gegenwart, mit den Vorstellungen der Komponisten über eine mögliche Weiterentwicklung, und daraus ergeben sich die Auswahl der für bedeutend gehaltenen Werke und die Verbindungsfäden, die zur Erklärung der Entwicklung gezogen werden. Das sind subjektive Entscheidungen, ohne die aber die sonst unzusammenhängenden Fakten keinen Sinn ergeben. Die Musikgeschichtsschreibung der zweiten Hälfte des 20. Jahrhunderts kann man mit guten Gründen als „materialistisch" bezeichnen, stehen doch seit Adornos „Philosophie der Neuen Musik" der Materialbegriff, die Entfaltung und der Fortschritt des musikalischen Materials im Zentrum. Nun scheint aber diese Entwicklung an einen Endpunkt gekommen zu sein, denn kaum einer glaubt, dass es im Bereich des musikalischen Materials noch Neues zu entdecken gibt. Jetzt kann man das Ende der Geschichte, das Ende der abendländischen Musik beklagen, oder aber Ausschau halten nach anderen Kriterien der Musikgeschichtsschreibung. Alternative, nicht-materialistische Arten der Musikgeschichtserzählung werden mehr auf inhaltliche Aspekte eingehen, nicht auf das Material, aber sie werden nicht unbedingt spirituell ausgerichtet sein müssen. Das hängt von dem Menschenbild ab, das - meist ohne das es benannt würde - sich hinter einer Geschichtserzählung verbirgt. Die materialistische Erzählung brauchte kein Menschenbild, aber das war auch ihr Problem. Hier nun soll der Versuch unternommen werden, von einem Menschenbild ausgehend die Musikgeschichte ab 1600 zu erzählen, das spirituelle Ebenen kennt. Dafür bieten sich als Ausgangspunkt an die Forschungen von Teilhard de Chardin, Jean Gebs-er, Sri Aurobindo und Ken Wilber, aber auch die von Abraham Maslow, Daniel Gole-man und Don Edward Beck. Ihnen gemeinsam ist ein evolutionäres Denken, das von im Menschen angelegten seelischen Potenzialen ausgeht, die zur Entfaltung drängen, im individuellen Leben ebenso wie in der geschichtlichen Entwicklung, die also als Attraktor einer Bewusstseinsevolution wirken. Spiritualität kann durch Musik auf zwei Ebenen wirksam werden: da ist zunächst eine spirituelle Erfahrung, ein Berührtwerden von einer höheren Dimension, vom Heiligen, wenn man es so nennen möchte, die durch Musik aus jeder Zeit ausgelöst werden kann, von gregorianischen Gesängen oder einer hochkomplexen symphonischen Komposition - da hängt auch viel von der Interpretation ab. Neben dieser „vertikalen" Komponente könnte es eine „horizontale" geben, die im Sinne einer Bewusstseinsevolution als Attraktor der musikalischen Entwicklung in der Geschichte wirkt. Dafür ist wichtig zu betonen, dass Spiritualität nicht nur im Rückzug von der Welt gelebt werden kann, sondern auch in der Welt. Deswegen wird es nicht um geistliche Musik gehen, sondern um die Musik in der ganzen Fülle ihrer Ausdrucksmöglichkeiten. Gleichwohl wird die Frage „Wie weltlich darf die geistlichen Musik sein" die Überlegungen immer begleiten beim Versuch, die Veränderungen in der Musik ab 1600 als vielleicht nicht immer gelingender und oft gefährdeter Versuch zu deuten, die Welt und die Erfahrung des Heiligen zu verbinden. Einige wesentliche Aspekte einer spirituellen Entwicklung1 könnten sein: - das Gewahrwerden, dass der Mensch Gott in seinem eigenen Inneren begegnen kann; 1 Dazu: Katharina Ceming, Spiritualität im 21. Jahrhundert (Hamburg: Phänomen-Verlag, 2012). - die Erfahrung der Verbundenheit des „Allem im Einem": - Entgrenzung und Ich-Transzendenz; - die Notwendigkeit, den eigenen Schatten wahrzunehmen und zu integrieren; - die Vielfalt der Perspektiven in sich zu vereinigen. Jede Weiterentwicklung hat allerdings auch ihre potenziell dunklen und pathologischen Seiten, die sog. „Schattenthemen" im Sinne von C. G. Jung. Auch von diesen muss die Rede sein, wenn jeder Epoche eine zentrale „spirituelle Signatur" zugeordnet wird, die den entscheidenden Entwicklungsschritt benennt. Barock: Die Menschwerdung der Musik Um 1600 betritt der einzelne Mensch die Bühne - im übertragenden Sinne im generalbassbegleiteten Sologesang, und im wörtlichen Sinne in der neu erfundenen Gattung „Oper". Damit hält die Menschendarstellung Einzug in die Musik und mit ihr die Vielfalt der Gefühle und die unterschiedlichen menschlichen Charaktere. Die mystischen Traditionen sehen die Menschwerdung Gottes nicht als ein einmaliges historisches Ereignis, sondern als etwas, das sich in jedem Menschen ereignen kann. So kommt dem Individuum eine große Bedeutung zu als dem Ort, an dem Gott sich verkörpert, und damit auch eine große Verantwortung. Angelus Silesius geht sogar so weit: „Ich weiß, dass ohne mich Gott nicht ein Nun kann leben / Werd ich zu nicht Er muss von Noth den Geist auffgeben."2 In Bachs Weihnachtsoratorium beantwortet die Altstimme die Frage „Wo ist der neugeborne König der Juden?": „Sucht ihn in meiner Brust, hier wohnt er, mir und ihm zur Lust."3 Die zentralen Gefühle (oder Affekte, wie man damals sagte) sind Liebe und Mitleiden, und so ist es natürlich, dass die Geschichten, in denen die Menschen in der ihnen vertrauten Gefühlswelt mitempfinden können, ins Zentrum rücken: die Weihnachtsgeschichte und vor allem die Passionserzählungen. An den vom Hohelied inspirierten Texten wird deutlich, in welchem Maße das „weltliche" Erleben der Liebe zum Resonanzraum für die spirituelle Gottesliebe wird, und Ähnliches lässt sich von den Leidenserfahrungen sagen, die im Mitleiden mit der Passion mitschwingen. Damit ist ein wichtiger Teil der „Welt" in der Musik angekommen, in einer geistlichen Musik, die dasselbe Vokabular benutzt wie die weltliche der Oper. Den Menschen mit seiner Gefühlswelt Klang werden zu lassen, ist ein musikgeschichtlich entscheidender Schritt. Die Schattenthemen dieser Entwicklung konzentrieren sich auf zwei miteinander zusammenhängende Probleme: Erstens kann es zu einer Reduktion des Menschenbildes kommen, wenn die höheren Bewusstseinsebenen, die den mystischen Traditionen vertraut sind, im Menschenbild fehlen und das Alltags-Ich und seine Gefühlswelt als einzige Realität erscheinen; und zweitens besteht die Gefahr, dass, wenn ein überpersönlicher oder transzendenter Rahmen fehlt, der Mensch, allein gelassen und auf sich selbst verwiesen, der negativen und destruktiven Emotionen nicht mehr Herr wird. 2 Angelus Silesius, Cherubinischer Wandersmann (Stuttgart, 1984), 28 (I,8). 3 Nr. 45 im 5. Teil. In der Barockzeit hat sich zugleich eine eigenständige Instrumentalmusik entwickelt. Doch auch sie wurde von der Sprache und den Affekten her erklärt, und viele Theoretiker machten keinen Unterschied zwischen Vokal- und Instrumentalmusik. Inzwischen hat sich eine Art musikalischer Logik herausgebildet, in der Weise, wie Motive entwickelt werden, Phrasen sich bilden und Formen gebaut werden. Könnte man von „objektivierten" Affekten sprechen? Affekte, die nicht wie im Rezitativ, spontan und momentan auftauchen, sondern sich zu größeren Formen objektivieren, sei es in der Arie in der Vokal- oder im Konzertsatz in der Instrumentalmusik? Hier wurden die entscheidenden Grundlagen gelegt für das Auftreten der nächsten spirituellen Signatur in der Musik der Klassik. Klassik: Die Form - „Hen kai pan" Der Stilwandel vom Barock zur Klassik vollzieht sich u.a. durch eine Verlangsamung des Harmoniewechsels und eine strikte Ökonomie im Harmonischen und in der Disposition der Tonarten - beides zusammen erlaubt es, größere tonale Komplexe gegenüberzustellen. Die tonale Spannung zwischen ihnen trägt einen längeren Zeitablauf und erlaubt es, unterschiedlichste Motive und Ausdruckscharaktere als Einheit zu erleben. Dabei hilft eine genaue Abstufung und Beziehung der Schlusswendungen aufeinander, den Hörer durch den Zeitablauf zu führen.4 Auch wenn jetzt die reine Instrumentalmusik besonders hervortritt, so baut die Klassik doch auf der Barockmusik insofern auf, als sie reich ist an menschlichen Ausdruckscharakteren, gleichsam schauspielert. Die Barockzeit kannte fast nur Sätze in einheitlichem Affekt - die Aufgabe der Klassik lässt sich dagegen beschreiben: viele Ideen, Gestalten, Charaktere, aber ein überwölbender musikalischer Bogen. Die Vereinheitlichung eines Satzes durch Motivbeziehungen spielt in der frühen Klassik noch keine so große Rolle, und so ist es dort vor allem die durch die großformale harmonische Disposition hergestellte Einheit, die die Vielfalt der Charaktere verbindet und zusammenfasst - das stellt das spezifisch Neue der Klassik dar. Damit ist bereits auf eine Formel angespielt, die für den spirituellen Hintergrund der Klassik steht: „hen kai pan" - Eines und Alles, oder: das All-Eine, oder: das Eine in Allem. Jan Assmann5 hat gezeigt, dass es im Abendland eine untergründige spirituelle Strömung gab, die sich, vermittelt durch den Corpus Hermeticum des Hermes Trisme-gistos, aus dem alten Ägypten herleitete. Die Debatten damals, an denen sich Lessing, Schiller und viele andere beteiligten, kreisten zwar um die Gestalt Moses und seinen ägyptischen Ursprung, im Grunde aber ging es um die Weltsicht von damals noch verfemten Denkern wie Giordano Bruno und Baruch Spinoza, die Assmann als „Kosmo-theismus" charakterisiert, die den gesamten Kosmos als stufenweise Verwirklichung Gottes auffasst, die Natur einbeziehend. 4 Das bezieht sich auf die sensible Abstufung von vollkommenen Ganzschluss, unvollkommenen Ganzschlüssen und Halbschlüssen. 5 Jan Assmann, Moses der Ägypter (München: Hanser-Verlag, 1998). Die Idee „hen kai pan" hat ihr künstlerisches Abbild in der klassischen Form gefunden als „verschiedenste Charaktere und Ausdrucksformen unter einem Bogen". Damit hat die Musik Teil an der neuen spirituellen Signatur der Zeit. In der Art, zunächst nebeneinander oder sogar in Kontrast stehende Charaktere und Gestalten in einen einheitlichen musikalischen Bogen zu integrieren, bildet die klassische Form auch psychische Prozesse ab, die auf ein Ganzwerden der Person zielen. Durch den großformalen harmonischen Bogen, später unterstützt durch thematisch-motivische Arbeit, durch Verwandlung und Verbindung von Motiven, vermag die klassische Form ein Bild vom Ganzwerden im Sinne von C. G. Jung herzustellen: Form als Integrationsprozess, und insofern auch Bild einer spirituellen Entwicklung. Bereits in der Klassik gab es Versuche, die Integration noch auf einer anderen Ebene zu versuchen, im Bemühen, verschiedene Stilebenen zusammen zu bringen. Am weitesten geht Mozart im Finale seiner Jupiter-Symphonie in der Verbindung von Sonate und Fuge und in der Zauberflöte mit ihrer Verbindung von Seria- und Buffo-Stil, von barocken und klassischen Stilelementen. Jeder Stil steht ja für eine bestimmte menschliche Haltung, für bestimmte Charaktere, und so macht eine innere Stilvielfalt die Musik auch reicher an Ausdrucksmöglichkeiten. Beethoven ist Mozart darin gefolgt in seinen späten Klaviersonaten und Streichquartetten: sie enthalten Fugen, eine kirchentonale Choralbearbeitung, lyrische Sätze, kontrastreiche Sonatensätze, Märsche, Scherzi, ein Rezitativ - und damit fast die ganze damals bekannte musikalische Welt.6 Durch die klassischen Formen wird Zeit strukturiert, eine lineare Zeit, die aber gleichwohl (durch wiederkehrende Teile wie Reprisen) auch Elemente der älteren zyklischen Zeitvorstellung einschließt. Über lineare Zeit zu verfügen bedeutet: eine persönliche Identität entwickeln (sich als derselbe zu wissen über die Zeit hinweg), Verantwortung übernehmen zu können, auf Vervollkommnung (im moralischen Sinne) und Integration hinarbeiten zu können. Darin liegen die großen Chancen dieser Weltsicht. Aber die Schattenthemen lassen sich schnell ausmachen: die Ausgrenzung alles dessen, was die damalige musikalische Integrationsfähigkeit überfordert hätte: archaische Ebenen (musikalisch repräsentiert etwa durch Bordunquinten, unregelmäßige, stark körperbetonte Taktarten und Rhythmen, Schlaginstrumente), fremde Kulturen (die Ägyptenliebhaberei hatte mit der ägyptischen Musik nichts zu tun), extreme negative Emotionen, der Zerfall der Persönlichkeit und damit der Verlust der linearen Zeit, Wahnsinn - all das blieb draußen. „ ...wer's nie gekonnt, der stehle weinend sich aus unserem Bund." So sieht Ausgrenzung bei Schiller und Beethoven in der 9. Symphonie aus. Romantik: Das Unendliche - die Entgrenzung „Die Religion lebt ihr ganzes Leben auch in der Natur, aber in der unendlichen Natur des Ganzen, des Einen und Allen."7 So schreibt offenbar ein Anhänger des Kos- 6 Das sind Werke, die die klassische Formensprache bis an die Grenze ihrer Integrationsfähigkeit dehnen, sie aber nicht zerbrechen, wie oft geglaubt wird. Im Überschreiten der Grenzen einer zu eng gefassten Persönlichkeit liegen wichtige Entwicklungschancen, vorausgesetzt, die Persönlichkeit zerfällt nicht, sondern wächst. 7 Friedrich Schleiermacher, Über die Religion (Hamburg: Felix Meiner-Verlag, 1958), 29. motheismus, und - als wäre es ein Kommentar zu Mozarts und Beethovens Vielfalt der Stilebenen: „Ihr selbst seid ein Kompendium der Menschheit. Eure Persönlichkeit umfasst in einem gewissen Sinne die ganze menschliche Natur (...)."8 Gleichsam programmatisch für die Romantik heißt es: „Strebt danach, schon hier Eure Individualität zu vernichten, und in Einem und Allem zu leben, strebt danach, mehr zu sein als Ihr selbst (...)."9 Hier klingt ein entscheidendes Motiv an: die Überschreitung der Grenzen des Ichs, die Ich-Transzendenz - ein wichtiger Schritt auf jedem spirituellen Schulungsweg, zur Erfahrung des Unendlichen. „Religion ist Sinn und Geschmack für das Unendliche."10 Das alles schrieb der Theologe Friedrich Schleiermacher 1799. Schubert hat in seinem Lied Auflösung11 eine solche visionäre Erfahrung des Unendlichen komponiert. Nur ganz am Ende findet man eine Kadenz, sonst gibt es weder Halb- noch Ganzschlüsse, die Musik strömt ohne formale und syntaktische Grenzen dahin und suggeriert eine gleichsam unendliche Weite. Auch die Technik der „inneren Erweiterung" kann eingesetzt werden, um Unendlichkeit spürbar werden zu lassen, wenn die Dehnung durch Wiederholungen oder Sequenzen so lang wird, dass man den Bezug zum Ausgangspunkt verliert und die Musik gelöst zu schweben beginnt.12 Bruckner entwirft im langsamen Satz seines Streichquintetts eine riesengroße Periode, der Nachsatz verliert sich gleichsam ins Unendliche13 und erreicht nie den erwarteten Ganzschluss. Oder die Musik beginnt nicht wirklich, sondern scheint aus der Unhörbarkeit allmählich ins Hörbare einzutreten, so als würde wir in eine Musik hineinhören, die unhörbar schon immer da war (Chopin, Ballade F-Dur, oder wenn Schumann mit einer Schlusswendung beginnt). Techniken der Phrasenverbindung (eine Phrase endet auf einem Dominantseptakkord, die nächste beginnt mit der dazugehörigen Tonika) und der Verschränkung (ein Takt ist zugleich Ende einer Phrase und Beginn einer neuen) ermöglichen es den Komponisten, die Musik immer fließen zu lassen und Unendlichkeit zu suggerieren, die Musik zu entgrenzen. Im Zusammenhang mit Entgrenzung und Ich-Transzendenz gewinnt die Mystik wieder an Aktualität - nur ist es jetzt die islamische Mystik von Hafis und Rumi, deren Gedichte durch die Übersetzungen von Friedrich Rückert den Romantikern bekannt waren. Der Orient steht bei den Romantikern auch für Entgrenzung und Unendlichkeit. In einem Gedicht von Rumi heißt es: „Denn wo die Lieb' erwachet, stirbt das Ich (...)"14, und damit ist das zentrale Motiv von Entgrenzung und Ich-Transzendenz angesprochen, wobei „Ich-Tod" das Hinauswachsen über die alte, von einem festen identischen Ich begrenzte Persönlichkeit meint - ein wichtiges Thema einer jeden spirituellen Entwicklung. Todessehnsucht ist oft Sehnsucht nach dem Tod des Ichs, nach Entgrenzung, Wandlung und seelischem Wachstum in spirituelle Bereiche hinein, nach einer „Entgrenzung nach oben".15 Aber da gibt es eine gefährliche Ambivalenz, denn möglich ist auch eine „Entgrenzung nach unten", also nicht in Richtung auf höhere spi- 8 Ibid., 55. 9 Ibid., 73. 10 Ibid., 30. 11 D 807, nach einem Gedicht von Mayrhofen 12 Klaviersonate a-Moll, D 537, 3. Satz, Takt 59 - 95. 13 Ab Takt 19. 14 Friedrick Rückert, Werke, 2. Band (Frankfurt: Insel-Verlag, 1988), 15. 15 Dazu: Robert A. Johnson, Traum vorstellung Liebe. Der Irrtum des Abendlandes (München: Knauer-Verlag, 1987). rituelle Ebenen, sondern als pathologischer Ich-Zerfall, oder als Flucht in Rausch oder als Regression in frühere Entwicklungsstadien vor der Ich-Bildung. Wagners Oper Tristan und Isolde, musikalisch der Gipfel der romantischen Kunst der Entgrenzung, enthält in Handlung und Text etliche solcher ambivalenten Momente. Die Sehnsucht nach dem Unendlichen, die „Entgrenzung nach oben" war aber nur ein Thema der Romantik, das andere war die Erforschung der Nachtseiten der Existenz, der Träume, des Wahnsinns, des Satanischen („schwarze Romantik")16, der Persönlichkeitsspaltung und des Ich-Verlusts mit dem Zerbrechen der linearen Zeit, also die „Entgrenzung nach unten". Hier klingen die Schattenthemen der Romantik an, zumal der Ich-Zerfall leicht mit Ich-Transzendenz verwechselt werden kann, und die Dehnung der klassischen Formensprache möglicherweise zur Auflösung von Form überhaupt führt, zum Zerfall der linearen Zeit in unzusammenhängende Augenblicke. Vor allem aber ist der Blick in den Abgrund der Seele, ins Unbewusste der verdrängten Erinnerungen und verdrängten Gefühle, der negativen Emotionen und der archaischen Erbschaft ohne entsprechend starker Kräfte des Bewusstseins nicht ungefährlich. Jede neue spirituelle Signatur sollte auf den vorherigen aufbauen und diese umfassen. Dort finden sich oft die Gegenkräfte gegen die Gefährdungen der jeweils neuen Signatur, im Falle der Romantik in der klassischen Formensprache mit ihrer Signatur „hen kai pan". Die späteren Romantiker wie Brahms und Bruckner haben genau da angeknüpft, und selbst Wagner stellte den Anspruch, in der thematischen Arbeit seiner Musikdramen Beethovens Symphonik zu beerben. E. T. A. Hoffmanns Aufsatz Alte und neue Kirchenmusik lässt den Zwiespalt der Romantik deutlich werden. Dazu schreibt Peter Rummenhöller: „Wahre Musik ist für Hoffmann (...) zugleich wahre Kirchenmusik, und diese gehört (...) unwiederbringlich der Vergangenheit an."17 Ihr gegenüber steht die „romantische" Musik der Gegenwart: Haydn, Mozart und Beethoven: „Beethovens Musik bewegt die Hebel des Schauers, der Furcht, des Entsetzens, des Schmerzes und erweckt jene unendliche Sehnsucht, die das Wesen der Romantik ist", schreibt Hoffmann.18 Rummenhöller kommentiert: „Freilich hat diese von Hoffmann als wahrhaft romantisch und musikalisch gefeierte Kunst mit Religion und Kirche gar nichts zu tun."19 Hoffmann verbirgt nicht seine Skepsis, ob überhaupt noch gute Kirchenmusik komponiert werden kann, die mehr ist als Nachahmungen der alten Meister, wie sie der Cäcilianismus hervorbrachte. Hier hat sich eine Kluft geöffnet zwischen einer Entwicklung, die neue spirituelle Signaturen hervorgebracht hat (was Hoffmann noch nicht sehen konnte) und der damaligen kirchenmusikalischen Praxis. Im Barock waren schon die ersten Konflikte aufgetreten zwischen dem Bedürfnis nach einer Musik der Andacht, der Stille und des Rückzugs von der Welt einerseits und einer Musik, die das Weltliche (das „Opernhafte") einbezog andererseits. Diese Konflikte verschärfen sich in der Romantik, die sich verstärkt den dunklen Seiten der Seele zuwendet. Aber gehören nicht zur spirituellen Entwicklung Selbsterkenntnis und Selbstwahrnehmung dazu, die Fähigkeit und den Willen, auch die eigenen dunklen Seiten anzuschauen? 16 Dazu: Mario Praz, Liebe, Tod und Teufel. Die schwarze Romantik (München: Hanser-Verlag 1960). 17 Peter Rummenhöller, Romantik in der Musik (Kassel: Bärenreiter-Verlag, 1989), 39. 18 Zitiert nach Ibid., 39. 19 Ibid., 46. Das 20. Jahrhundert: Die Suche nach dem Ursprung und das Unbewusste Sich auf die dunklen Seiten des Menschen einzulassen wird besonders dann gefährlich, wenn es zu einer Identifikation mit diesen dunklen Seiten kommt, mit den unbewussten und archaischen Ebenen, die dann als letzte Wirklichkeit erscheinen. Zwei Strömungen haben dazu beigetragen: die Musik des Expressionismus, die in bis dahin nicht dagewesener Konsequenz die Seelenregungen einsamer, verletzter oder traumatisier-ter Menschen protokolliert20, nicht zufällig zeitgleich entstanden mit Freuds Psychoanalyse. Auf der anderen Seite war es der „Neoprimitivismus", der nach Ursprünglichkeit suchte in fernen Kulturen und in vorchristlich-heidnischen Opfer-Ritualen (Strawinski: Le Sacre du Printemps). Den Ursprung suchen - im unverstellten Ausdruck der Gefühle und des Unbewussten einerseits und im Archaischen andererseits, das verbindet die beiden Antipoden Schönberg und Strawinski. Beides scheint mit Spiritualität zunächst wenig zu tun zu haben, aber die Erfahrungen der Abgründe der eigenen Seele und der in ihr verborgenen archaischen Erbschaft kann zu einem wichtigen Schritt im Entwicklungsprozess werden, wenn man in der Lage ist, genau hinzuschauen, sich aber nicht mit diesen Schichten zu identifizieren, sondern sie zu integrieren in ein umfassenden Menschenbild, in das „bewusste personale Selbst"21. „Der Gottes- und Sinnsucher wird mit all den Dämonen konfrontiert, die er selber aus Unwissen geschaffen oder angezogen hat. Später sollen sie ihn nicht mehr vom Weg abbringen können, sondern sogar hilfreich zur Verfügung stehen."22 Das ist ein gutes Bild für die Möglichkeit des Wachsens an den Erfahrungen der unbewussten und archaischen Ebenen. In kaum vorstellbarem Maße haben die Traumata der beiden Weltkriege die Musik des 20. Jahrhunderts geprägt, gerade da, wo die Schmerzen und das Leid hinter einer Fassade von Objektivität, Sachlichkeit, Nicht-Expressivität und Konstruktivität versteckt wurden23. Das betrifft sowohl den Neoklassizismus der 20er Jahre wie auch die Zwölftontechnik und vor allem die serielle Musik nach 1950. Aber die Psychologie kennt das Phänomen des „posttraumatischen Wachstums" (posttraumatic growth), dass Menschen aus der Erstarrung der Emotionslosigkeit, der Desorientierung eines beschädigten Zeitbewusstseins und einer Dissoziierung des Ichs zur Lebendigkeit zurückfinden und in spirituelle Bereiche der Ich-Transzendenz hineinwachsen können.24 Auch in der Musik des 20. Jahrhunderts ist eine Sehnsucht nach Spiritualität spürbar, die sich aber oft nur äußerte in einer Nähe zu archaischen Ritualen (Strawinski, Jolivet) und jene unselige, schon im Neoklassizismus beliebte Gegenüberstellung von 20 Richard Strauss, Elektra (die Titelfigur ist traumatisiert, weil sie die Ermordung ihres Vater miterleben musste); Arnold Schönberg, Erwartung (eine Frau sucht nachts im Wald ihren Geliebten und findet ihn ermordet); Alban Berg, Wozzeck. 21 Harald Piron, Die Seelenburg der Teresa von Avila und ihre Bedeutungfür die Psychotherapie, in: Bewusstseinswissenschaften - Transpersonale Psychologie und Psychotherapie, 18. Jahrgang 2012, Nr. 1, S. 10. 22 Ibid., 7. 23 Wolfgang-Andreas Schultz, Avantgarde und Trauma - die Musik des 20. Jahrhunderts und die Erfahrungen der Weltkriege, in: Lettre International, Deutsche Ausgabe, Nr. 71, Berlin 2005, S. 92-97. 24 Dazu: Ursula Wirtz, „Die spirituelle Dimension der Traumatherapie", in Transpersonale Psychologie und Psychotherapie, 9. Jahrgang, 2003, Nr. 1, S. 4; Tedeschi / Park / Calhoun (Hrgb.): Posttraumatic Growth (New Jersey - London: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, Publishers, 1998). Objektivität und Subjektivität hervorbrachte, die das Überpersönliche, Spirituelle im Unpersönlichen, Subjektlosen und oftmals Vor-Individuellem suchte. Insgesamt ist das zwanzigste das Jahrhundert, in dem die Schattenthemen die überragende Rolle spielen. Dessen Chancen lassen sich zusammenfassen in der Fähigkeit, die dunklen unbewussten und archaischen Ebenen anzuschauen, Klang werden zu lassen und ins Bewusstsein zu heben und sie in ein umfassendes bewusstes, personales Selbst zu integrieren. Die Schattenthematik des 20. Jahrhunderts ist die Identifikation mit eben diesen Ebenen, wenn sie zur ursprünglichen und letzten Wirklichkeit erklärt werden - daran ist Freuds Psychoanalyse nicht unschuldig. Gelingt die Integration nicht, können diese Ebenen destruktive Kräfte freisetzten und zerstörerisch wirken. Eine mögliche Zukunft: Indras Netz und die Vielfalt der Perspektiven Wie kann man Persönliches und Überpersönliches in der Musik verbinden? Könnte so die Aufgabenstellung für eine Weiterentwicklung formuliert werden? Lassen sich Menschendarstellung und Gefühle in ihrer ganzen Fülle, aber nicht als ausschließlicher Gehalt der Musik, verbinden mit Strukturen oder Symbolen, die das Nur-Menschliche übersteigen? Geht so etwas, ohne das Menschliche zu opfern wie in den konstruktiven und „objektivistischen" Strömungen des 20. Jahrhunderts? Kann man der Subjektivität einen transzendenten Rahmen geben? Die entscheidende Voraussetzung für einen solchen Weg ist die Reflexion über das Menschenbild. Die mystischen Traditionen des Abendlandes wussten immer von der Möglichkeit einer Entwicklung über das normale alltägliche Ich-Bewusstsein hinaus, und Kritiker des reduktionistischen Menschenbildes der Psychoanalyse von Abraham Maslow25 bis zu Daniel Goleman26 und Ken Wilber27 beschreiben inzwischen differenziert diese höheren Ebenen. Die Anerkennung dieser Ebenen ist Voraussetzung für eine Weiterentwicklung der Musik, die mehr sein will als nur Erforschung von Klangmaterial. Dennoch gilt das zu Beginn Gesagte: die Beziehung von Musik und Spiritualität hat eine gleichsam vertikale Komponente insofern, als zu jeder Zeit und in jedem Stil im Medium der Musik eine Erfahrung des Heiligen möglich ist, und eine gleichsam horizontale Komponente, in der die Entfaltung des spirituellen Potenzials als Attraktor der musikalischen Entwicklung wirksam wird. Die Postmoderne, in der alles wieder möglich scheint („anything goes"), repräsentiert eine Stufe der Bewusstseinsevolution, wo deutlich wird, dass jede Epoche Wertvolles mitbringt, dass jeder Stil menschliche Haltungen und Ausdrucksweisen Klang werden lässt, die keineswegs verloren sind, wo deutlich wird, dass ältere Entwicklungsstufen in die neueren integriert werden sollten, damit die Musik nicht verarmt und einseitig wird - Don E. Beck28 spricht vom „second tier" der Bewusstseinsevolution. 25 Abraham H. Maslow, Motivation und Persönlichkeit (Reinbek: Rowohlt-Verlag 1981). 26 Daniel Goleman, DDialog mit dem Dalai Lama - Wie wir destruktive Emotionen überwinden können (München: Hanser-Verlag, 2003). 27 Ken Wilber, Integrale Psychologie (Freiamt: Arbor-Verlag 2001). 28 Don Edward Beck/ Christopher C. Cowan: Spiral Dynamics (Bielefeld: Kamphausen-Verlag 2007). Daraus könnte eine weitere Aufgabe für die Zukunft erwachsen, die sich mit der bereits erwähnten gut verbinden ließe. Bei dieser ginge darum, Modalitäten und Techniken für eine sinnvolle Integration zu entwickeln, und hätte dadurch eine gewisse Ähnlichkeit mit der Aufgabenstellung der Klassik: neu über Form nachzudenken, wie aus Verschiedenem und Heterogenem ein sinnvolles Ganzes werden kann. Die Aufgabe der Integration kann sich zunächst auf die eigene Tradition beziehen, verschiedene Stilebenen, die ja alle für Facetten des menschlichen Ausdrucks stehen, zu einer Einheit zu verbinden. Sri Aurobindo und Ken Wilber halten die Fähigkeit, unterschiedliche Perspektiven, andere als nur die eigene egoistische einzunehmen, für einen ganz wesentlichen Entwicklungsschritt. Perspektivenvielfalt kann aber - auch musikalisch - die Perspektiven anderer Kulturen einschließen. Der Regisseur Peter Brook schrieb einmal: „Der Mensch ist mehr als das, worauf er durch seine Kultur festgelegt wird; (...) Jede Kultur drückt einen anderen Teil der inneren Welt aus: die vollständige menschliche Wahrheit ist global, und das Theater ist der Ort, an dem das Puzzle zusammengesetzt werden kann."29 Und, so darf man ergänzen, die Musik. Im Bereich des Buddhismus gibt es dafür ein schönes Bild, das deutlich macht, wie jede Kultur, ja jede Individualität erhalten bleibt und doch in ihr sich alle anderen spiegeln: Indras Netz, „ein mit edlen Perlen besetztes Netz, die einander reflektieren, so dass in jeder Perle alle übrigen aufscheinen."30 Die Verbindung von Persönlichem und Überpersönlichem, die intra- und interkulturelle Perspektivenvielfalt könnten vielleicht zur spirituellen Signatur des 21. Jahrhunderts werden. Und davon könnte abhängen, wie dereinst die Musikgeschichte des 20. und des 21. Jahrhunderts erzählt wird, und ob man sie besser verstehen kann als durch den Blick auf das musikalische Material. Povzetek Pripoved o zgodovini glasbe je vedno povezana z nazori sodobnega časa in nazori skladateljev. Osredotočenje na odkrivanje novega glasbenega gradiva je ena od možnosti za oblikovanje pripovedi, ki vodi k materialističnemu pogledu na preteklost. A zdi se, da se je ta način razmišljanja izčrpal. Druga možnost je tista, ki se povezuje s podobo človeka. Zaradi izsledkov raziskav, ki so jih naredili Abraham Maslow, Jean Gebser, Ken Wilber, Don Edward Beck in drugi, vemo, da ima podoba človeka tudi duhovne ravni. To je narekovalo teorijo o "evoluciji zavesti", ki omogoča drugačno pripoved zgodovine glasbe. Pričujoči prispevek poskuša razumeti glasbeno preteklost po letu 1600 kot proces pojavljanja "duhovnih označb". V baročni glasbi je človek prisoten z vsemi svojimi čustvi in - podobno kot v misticizmu - lahko odkrivamo Boga v vsaki duši. Duhovnost lahko doživljamo ne le z odmikom od sveta, ampak tudi z življenjem v njem. V klasicističnih oblikah so različna čustva in značaji zliti v enovitost, skladno s filozofskim kozmoteizmom, povzetem v grški formuli „hen kai pan". Romantična glasba je poskušala izraziti neskončnost in presežnost ega. Teme glasbe 20. st. so iskanje izvora, nezavedno in integracija "sence" (C. G. Jung), v postmodernizmu pa iskanje načinov za povezovanje različnih pogledov. Vsaka raven pa skriva svoje nevarnosti. Posebej v 20. st. se srečujemo z mnogimi vprašanji, ki jih lahko rešimo z vrnitvijo k duhovni podobi človeka. Angleški prevod izvlečka / abstract translated to English by Andrej Rijavec. Slovenski prevod naslova, izvlečka in povzetka Aleš Nagode. 29 Peter Brook: Wanderjahre (Berlin: Alexander-Verlag, 1989), 177. 30 Michael Friedrich, „Indras Netz im Kegon", in: Indras Netz (München: hrgb. von Disegno, Gesellschaft für interkulturelle Studien e.V., 1997), 26. UDK 783.013 Agamben DOI: 10.4312/mz.50.2.17-30 Janet Danielson Simon Fraser University, Canada Univerza Simona Fraserja, Kanada Harmony, Sacrifice, and Agamben's Messianic Time Harmonija, žrtvovanje in Agambenov mesijanski čas Prejeto: 2. januar 2013 Sprejeto: 27. marec 2013 Ključne besede: harmonija, sakralno, mesijanski čas, Giorgio Agamben, skladnja Izvleček V dvajsetem stoletju so harmonija, svetost in celo čas veljali za ovire pri umetniškem ustvarjanju. Nasprotno so v starodavnih kulturah harmonijo pojmovali kot silo, ki povezuje vesolje. Giorgio Agamben je v novejših spisih o svetem in mesi-janskem času drugače osvetlil pojav večglasja. Opozarja, da kapitalizem - polaščajoč se moči svetega - umetnost omejuje bodisi na spektakel, ali pa v predmet porabništva. Received: 2nd January 2013 Accepted: 27th March 2013 Keywords: harmony, sacred, messianic time, Giorgio Agamben, syntax Abstract In the early twentieth century, harmony, the sacred, and even time were seen as impediments to artistic freedom, though for the ancients, harmony was the integrating force of the cosmos. Giorgio Agamben's recent writings on the sacred and on messianic time shed new light on the emergence of polyphony. He warns that capitalism, subsuming sacral power, reduces art either to spectacle or to object for consumption. Harmony, sacrifice, and time seem a discordant trio. Sacrifice is generally held to be an archaic custom rooted in superstition and violence. Harmony, in contrast, is an ideal state of peaceful co-operation. Time, at least in Newtonian physics, is neutral and impassive, flowing along equably without regard to anything external.1 But harmony, 1 Isaac Newton, "Scholium to the Definitions", in PhilosophiaeNaturalis Principia Mathematica, bk. 1 (1689); trans. Andrew Motte (1729), rev. Florian Cajori (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1934), 6. sacrifice and time have come together in striking intensity at crucial points in human history. In this paper I shall briefly review the radical shift in meaning of these three ideas at the beginning of the twentieth century, then look at some originary accounts involving harmony, sacrifice, and time; observe how they played out thirteenth-century polyphony; and finally explore their current significance, drawing on concepts from Giorgio Agamben's works. In the years 1912-1913, three revolutionary European works provoked unprecedented audience outrage. The October 1912 première of Arnold Schoenberg's Pierrot Lunaire took place in Berlin. Its macabre centerpiece, the "Rote Messe," caricatured the Catholic liturgy, and Schoenberg's music dispensed altogether with harmony and melody. In May of the following year, the Paris première of Igor Stravinsky's Le Sacre du Printemps portrayed ritual sacrifice, its pounding rhythms impelling the victim's dance of death while its shrieking horns masked her cries. In St. Petersburg, December 1913, the futurist opera Victory over the Sun, some of it in an untranslatable language, celebrated the end of the past altogether: "How extraordinary life without the past is / Dangerous but without penitence and memories!"2 Through the contrivance of art an "advanced" humanity dared to wrest mortality, harmony, and sacrificial ritual from the precinct of the gods: "All's well that begins well / And has no end / the world will perish but there's no end to us!"3 Chronos, Armonia, and Moloch were rendered mere spectacles; immortality belonged to the artist. What prompted this spate of extravagant artistic production decrying harmony, sacrifice, and the past? Publications of the previous twenty years included Robertson Smith's influential Lectures on the Religion of the Semites (1894), which proposed taboo as the original sense of "sacred," and categorized it among the magical beliefs of "primitive society." Rules of holiness in the sense just explained, i.e. a system of restrictions on man's arbitrary use of natural things, enforced by the dread of supernatural penalties, are found among all primitive peoples. It is convenient to have a distinct name for this primitive institution, to mark it off from the later developments of the idea of holiness in advanced religions, and for this purpose the Polynesian term taboo has been selected.4 Smith thus transmuted rites such as those of Stravinsky's Le Sacre into curiosities which the art and science of European "civilization" could safely explore.5 Similarly, Schoenberg's devotees shrugged off charges of blasphemy in Pierrot Lunaire; what they had witnessed were simply the neurotic fantasies of the unconscious mind described in Sigmund Freud's 1899 The Interpretation of Dreams. And who could resist the thought of life without penitence? The creators of Victory over the Sun, influenced by Bergson's 2 Aleksei Kruchenyky, Victory Over the Sun, trans. Larissa Shmailo, 2012. http://intranslation.brooklynrail.org/russian/victory-over-the-sun. 3 Ibid.. 4 Robertson Smith, The Religion of the Semites (Edinburgh, Adam & C. Black, 1894), 152. 5 Cf. Franz Steiner, Taboo, trans. Laura Bohannan (London: Cohen & West, 1956), 73. Creative Evolution (1907) and Ouspensky's ideas of the fourth dimension, thought that since three-dimensional space was a "vanquished phantom,"6 time itself would be next to go. The ritual of becoming "mode"-ern entailed a renunciation of the "out-moded", for example in Paul Hindemith's conflicted introduction his 1943 harmony text: Our old friend Harmony [...] has had to step down from the pedestal upon which general respect had placed her. In the [present] situation, in which faith in the magic power of the old rules of harmony is fast disappearing, and the future one, in which such rules will have interest only for the backward-glancing and analytical student, hardly anyone will feel a great desire to spend more time in the acquisition of harmonic knowledge than is absolutely necessary.7 Magic powers, old rules, the vanishing past—sacrificial practices, harmony, and time were thus recast as mere impediments to human freedom. Sacrifice is the performance of sacred rites or the making of offerings for sacred use, often, but not exclusively, to secure divine favour. In the heady early years of the twentieth century, colonialism, industry, and science seemed a much surer way to secure the "preservation of favoured races." However, the year following our three premières ushered in not the promised era of freedom and prosperity, but rather World War I. The ensuing economic and social collapse of Europe, prompted Walter Benjamin to suggest that "it might be worthwhile to track down the origin of the dogma of the sacredness of human life."8 In response to Benjamin's challenge, Italian philosopher Giorgio Agamben has more recently re-opened the question of the sacred through his characteristic melding of philological and political investigation. In ancient Roman law, Agamben found, sacer can mean either exalted or banned, depending upon the gods to which the sacer person or object was consecrated:9 Sacred or religious were the things that in some way belonged to the gods. As such, they were removed from the free use and commerce of men [...] if 'to consecrate' (sacrare) was the term that indicated the removal of things from the sphere of human law, 'to profane' meant, conversely, to return them to the free use of men.10 The originary Greek and Hebrew accounts of the sacred are less abstractly legal than Roman legal accounts, and they invariably feature music. The Homeric Hymn to 6 Cf. Peter Stupples, "Malevich and the Liberation of Art", New Zealand Slavonic Journal (2001): 17, http://www.jstor.org/ stable/40922063. Accessed October 19, 2013. 7 Paul Hindemith, A Concentrated Course in Traditional Harmony Book 1 (New York: Schott, 1943), iii. 8 Walter Benjamin, "Critique of Violence" (1921), in Reflections:Essays, Aphorisms, Autobiographical Writings, ed. Peter Demetz; trans. Edmund Jephcott (New York: Schocken Books, 1978), 251. 9 Cf. Giorgio Agamben, Homo Sacer: Sovereign Power and Bare Life, trans. Daniel Heller-Roazen (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1998). 10 Giorgio Agamben, Profanations, trans. Jeff Fort (Cambridge, MA: Zone Books, 2007), 73. Hermes11 combines our three themes of harmony,12 sacrifice,13 and time. The precocious baby Hermes is fascinated by the beauty of the shell of a large tortoise, and believing the tortoise shell to be more valuable as a resonator than as a house for a live animal, scrapes it out14 to create the first lyre with seven concordantly-tuned strings—the first use of concord in the Greek language, according to the translator.15 He then steals fifty of Apollo's cattle and invents fire so that he can sacrifice two of them before returning to his cradle to escape his brother's ire. As a god, Hermes can flagrantly transgress the laws of time; but the musical concord he established became normative in Greek thought. The early Pythagoreans took harmony to be the pattern and the integrating rule of the cosmos. Philolaus wrote: Nature in the universe was harmonized from unlimiteds and limiters, both the whole universe and all things in it [...] for such [unlike] things it was necessary to have been locked together by harmonia, if they were to be held together in a cosmos.16 Plato concurred: "Concordant sounds provide pleasure and delight because of the imitation of the divine harmonia that comes into being in mortal movements."17 Later Greek writers such as Theon of Smyrna (2nd cent. CE) still saw the Hermes story as key to understanding the sacred: "The seven-stringed lyre of Hermes is the image of the divine world."18 In ancient Israel, Levites were appointed for priestly duties consisting mainly of sacrificial rites in which choral and instrumental music was an integral part. A signal from the priests' silver trumpets marked or even effected the transition from profane to sacred (Numbers 10:10, 2 Chron. 5:12-14, 29:25-28). Other ancient writings attest to music's pivotal role in sacrifice; in the words of third-century Chinese sage Juan Chi, "When music is played at the round hill [heaven] heavenly spirits will descend; when it is played at the square mound [earth], earthly spirits will arise. When heaven and earth thus unite their virtues, all beings will be concordant in their lives."19 Music is thus both signal and symbol of consecration; through participation in cyclic sacrificial rituals, humans become attuned to the immaterial, diffuse, and concordant presence of the divine. 11 Andrew Barker, Greek Musical Writings I: The Musician and his Art (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1984), 43. 12 John Curtis Franklin, "Diatonic Music in Greece: A Reassessment of Its Antiquity," Memnosyne, Fourth Series, Vol. 55, Fasc. 6 (2002): 676, http://www.jstor.org/stable/4433380. Accessed June 19, 2013. 13 Richard. W. Johnston and David Mulroy, "The Hymn to Hermes and the Athenian Altar of the Twelve Gods", The Classical World, vol. 103, no. 1 (Fall 2009): 11, http://www.jstor.org/stable/40599900. Accessed June 19, 2013. 14 Barker, Greek Musical Writings I, 43: "He scooped the life out of the mountain tortoise" (italics mine). Agamben's Home Sacer, Agamben opens with an explanation of the difference between two Greek words for life: zoe, or 'bare life', and bios, or life in the community. But interestingly, the Greek word for the tortoise's life in this account is neither zoe nor bios, but aeon, a word often translated "time." 15 Franklin, "Diatonic Music in Greece: ...", 676. 16 Philolaus, frag. 1, 6 in Arthur Barker, Greek Musical Writings II: Harmonic and Acoustic Theory (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989), 36-37. 17 Plato, Timaeus 79e-80b, in Barker, Greek Musical Writings II, 63. 18 Theon of Smyrna, "The Order of the Planets and the Celestial Concert", book II, chapter 15, in Joscelyn Godwin, ed., The Harmony of the Spheres: A Sourcebook of the Pythagorean Tradition in Music (Rochester, Vermont: Inner Traditions, 1993), 19. 19 Kenneth J. DeWoskin, A Song for One or Two: Music and the Concept of Art in Early China (Michigan Monographs in Chinese Studies Volume 42. Ann Arbor, MI: Centre for Chinese Studies, The University of Michigan, 1982), 87. The advent of Christianity was closely followed by the destruction of the Temple and the end of the Jewish practice of temple sacrifice. The clear mortality/immortality boundary between the profane and the sacred had been breached. Agamben claims that "in Christianity, with the entrance of God as the victim of sacrifice [...] the divine sphere is always in the process of collapsing into the human sphere and man always already passes over into the divine."20 Agamben's study of the Book of Romans, The Time That Remains, deals in depth with the permeability of the temporal boundary. On Agamben's account, the Apostle Paul sees time so differently that none of the poetic forms he knows will suffice to carry its meaning. Pauline secular time or chronos spans from creation to the messianic event, Jesus' resurrection. Here time contracts itself and begins to end. This contracted time, which Paul calls ho nyn kairos, "the time of the now," is the penultimate time, which lasts until the parousia, the full presence of the Messiah.21 Messianic time is "the time we need to make time end," a collapsing of the spatial metaphor for time so "the past is dislocated into the present and the present is extended into the past."22 Thispleroma, or fullness of time, is characterized by recapitulation—the past becoming part of the "now time"—and by an intense focus on the penultimate. Agamben sees the immediate impact of Messianic time in the poetic writings of Paul, who brought the endings of each line into consonance, making the first known instances of end rhyme.23 kai oi klaiontes those weeping hos me klaiontes as not weeping, kai oi chairontes those rejoicing hos me chairontes as not rejoicing, kai oi agorazontes those buying hos me katachontes as not possessing, kai oi chromenoi ton kosmon those using the world hos me katechromenoi as not using it up (I Corinthians 7:29-31, Agamben's translation24) Agamben's reading of kairos calls into question the commonplace of Western "linear time," upon which so much historiography rests — for example, A. C. Crombie's assertion that Christian time is a linear dimension "along which the world and mankind could fulfill an unique historical purpose."25 But Agamben's finding in kairos a possible origin for end-rhyme, suggests that something other than "historical purpose" contributed powerfully to the appearance of what is commonly known as "Western culture." The next part of this paper will document other repercussions of kairos consciousness in 20 Giorgio Agamben, Profanations, trans. Jeff Fort (Cambridge, MA: Zone Books, distributed by MIT Press, 2007), 79. 21 Giorgio Agamben, The Time That Remains: A Commentary on the Letter to the Romans, trans. Patricia Dailey (Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2005), 63. 22 Ibid., 68, 74. 23 cf. W. Beare, "The Origin of Rhythmic Latin Verse", Hermathena, no. 87 (May 1956): 3-20, http://www.jstor.org/stable/23039054. Accessed May 26, 2013. 24 Agamben, The Time That Remains ..., 86. 25 A. C. Crombie, Science, Art and Nature in Medieval and Modern Thought (London: Hambleton Press, 1996), 368. early European culture, especially music. References to kairos in Christian cultic practice are not hard to find, for Christian liturgy is explicitly an entry into kairos. The words "It is time (kairos) for the Lord to act," signal the start of the liturgy of St. John Chrystostom, still celebrated weekly. Elements of the liturgy such as the singing of the Psalms are seen as enactments of kairos: in his Letter to Marcellinus (ca. 350 CE) St. Athanasius commends the Psalms as a recapitulation of the entire Old Testament and a prophecy of the life, death, and ascension of Christ. He further suggests that the Psalms become present to the singer, or rather that the singer becomes present to God through singing the Psalms: The marvel with the Psalter is that [...] the reader takes all its words upon his lips as though they were his own, and each one sings the Psalms as though they had been written for his special benefit, and takes them and recites them, not as though someone else were speaking or another person's feelings being described, but as himself speaking himself, offering the words to God as his own heart's utterance, just as though he himself had made them up.26 For Athanasius, the ancient words of the Psalms take on an immediacy, a spontaneity, and a fused speaker/author identity indicative of messianic time. In his Confessions, St. Augustine famously grapples with the mystery of time: "Time can only be a kind of extension; but I do not know what it is an extension of."27 Sound, of course, is purely temporal, but Augustine argues that it is impossible to measure it: what is in the past no longer exists, the present is without duration, and the future does not exist yet. "Therefore, what we measure is neither the future nor the past nor the present nor what is passing. Yet nevertheless we do measure time." In a sudden insight Augustine remembers his mentor's hymn "Deus creator omnium . . ."28 The rhythm of the Ambrosian hymn, Augustine realizes, demonstrates that time is more intention than extension. In anticipating the whole hymn, attending to its meaning while singing, and allowing the words to be retained in the memory, Augustine is brought back to kairos and the words of St. Paul: Through Him I may apprehend in Whom I have been apprehended and that I may be gathered up from my former ways to follow the One, forgetting what is behind [Philip-pians 3:2-6] not wasted or scattered on things which are to come and things which will pass away, but intent and stretching forth to those things which are before—no longer distracted, but concentrated as I follow on for the prize of my heavenly calling, where I may hear the voice of Thy praise, and contemplate Thy delight which is neither coming nor passing.29 26 Athanasius, On the Incarnation: The Treatise De Incarnatione Verbi Dei (Crestwood, NY: St. Vladimir's Press, 1993), 105. 27 Augustine, Confessions Book XI Ch. 26, trans. Rex Warner (New York: New American Library, 1963), 279. 28 Augustine, Confessions Book XI Ch. 27, trans. Warner, 280. 29 Augustine, Confessions Book XI Ch. 29, trans. Warner, 283. The ideal of ceaseless praise prompted the rise of monastic living in Asia, Africa, and Europe. St. Brigit of Ireland claimed that angelic assistance enabled her to transcend both time and space: "I daily listen to the strains and spiritual melodies of the heavenly instruments [...] I can hear the masses of holy men which they celebrate to the Lord in distant lands as if they were close by.30 The entire book of Psalms was sung weekly in the seven daily monastic offices. Novices as young as ten years of age were required to memorize the Psalms in Latin in the process of becoming literate.31 The scarcity of books made memorization imperative, and end-rhyme was a great aid to memorization. The twelfth and thirteenth centuries saw the use of rhymed verse spread through such diverse disciplines as medicine, law, meteorology and literary history. Leonin, the earliest known composer of polyphony, put the first eight books of the Old Testament into dactylic hexameter; monks memorized rhyming library catalogues.32 But though it aided memory, end-rhyme did not aid comprehension or interpretation: Latin and Uncial script generally lacked word-breaks and punctuation, and novices working in a new language needed unambiguous prosodic cues in order to group words into sense-units with the right intonation and pacing. Gregorian chant, as the brilliant analyses of Calvin Bower33 and Leo Treitler demonstrate, served to "project the sound structure and meaning [of the liturgical text] with maximum distinctness, while at the same time being faithful to principles of melodic syntax and grammar that assure coherence of idiom and genre."34 o- mms ter-ra. y, No-tum tecit D6- Example 1: Viderunt Omnes, Liber Usualis No. 406, Gr. 33. 30 Sean Connolly, "Vita Prima Sanctae Brigitae Background and Historical Value", The Journal of the Royal Society of Antiquaries of Ireland 119 (1989): 40, http://www.jstor.org.proxy.lib.sfu.ca/stable/25508969. Accessed May 15, 2013. 31 George H. Brown, "The Psalms as the Foundation of Anglo-Saxon Learning", in The Place of the Psalms in the Intellectual Culture of the Middle Ages, ed. Nancy van Deusen (Albany, NY: The State University of New York Press, 1999), 5. 32 Anna Maria Busse Berger, "Mnemotechnics and Notre Dame Polyphony", The Journal of Musicology, vol. 14, no. 3 (Summer 1996): 276. 33 Calvin M. Bower, "The Grammatical Model of Musical Understanding in the Middle Ages", in Hermeneutics and Medieval Culture, eds. Patrick J. Gallacher and Helen Damico (Albany, NY: State University of New York Press, 1989), 133-146. 34 Leo Treitler, "The 'Unwritten' and 'Written Transmission' of Medieval Chant and The Start-Up of Musical Notation", The Journal of Musicology, vol. 10, no. 2 (Spring 1992): 139, http://www.jstor.org/stable/763611. Accessed May 24, 2013. But to the principles of which melodic syntax is Gregorian chant faithful? Most cultic chant uses a narrow tonal range, subtle microtonal elaborations, and irregular rhythms. Gregorian chant, however, is distinctive for its full octave range and its rhythmic and diatonic simplicity. The structure and syntax of the Gregorian chant Viderunt Omnes reveal harmonious proportions. Thefinalis and opening tone of the chant, F, is also the highest and lowest tone, and the last tone of the melismas on Dei and Deo respectively. This pure and unified tonal framework corresponds to the cubic dimensions of the Holy of Holies in the temple of ancient Israel (I Kings 6:20). As is appropriate for an announcement of salvation, the chant begins with a heraldic trumpet call on viderunt, elaborates the fifth on the first melismatic omnes, and moves through the overtones to the penultimate seventh before dropping down to end the word. Fines repeats the first four notes of the omnes, and terrae reverberates four times (to the four corners of the earth, Isaiah 7:2), in echoing minor thirds. The minor third (3:5) is the ratio of the ark of the covenant (Exodus 25:10), the meeting-place of the human and divine. Musical "end-rhyme" is evident in the repeating four-note falling motif ending terrae, salutarae and nostri. Deo ends with a "comma"—i.e. a descending F triad which anticipates the recapitulation. The second omnes recapitulates the opening viderunt omnes, complete with the trumpet motif extending to the penultimate seventh and the descending four-note sequence. The final terra features a double trumpet call and concludes with a reference to the minor-third echoes of the earlier terrae. The harmonious architectonics of the temple of ancient Israel which were carried through into Gothic architecture can thus be traced in the syntax of this Gregorian melody, which in turn elucidates the syntax of the sacred text. The role of tone for comprehensible and meaningful speech was well-recognized in ancient Greek and medieval rhetoric. Guido d'Arezzo wrote: Also, the beginnings of chants can be made on all those pitches which agree with the final pitch [...] And who does not understand that from pitches are made, as it were, syllables and words and phrases or lines of verse?35 In Guido's time, music was undergoing a significant transformation. Diastemic notation, which correlates the height of musical pitch with a high or low location on a line or set of staff lines, made it possible for the first time to create a harmonized interplay of simultaneous independent voices by means of contrapuntal techniques that still pervade musical practice. Nancy van Deusen argues that early polyphony was a sonic model of ultimate reconciliation: [It] uniquely exemplified an absolutely pivotal concept. Motions [...] which appeared to oppose [...] could be made to be reconciled [...] The point of reconciliation, of simultaneous consonance, was the point of rest, the quies media. Musical counterpoint [...] made this plain to the ear and, in music notation, to the eye as well. Thus this difficult idea of contrary motion [...] influenced the composition of music for the next 600years. No other concept in the history of western music has had such power. "36 35 Dolores Pesce, Guido D'Arezzo'sRegule rithmice, Prologus in antiphonarium, andEpistola admichahelem (Ottawa: Institute of Mediaeval Music, 1999), 528-9. 36 Nancy van Deusen, Theology and Music at the Early University: The Case of Robert Grosseteste and Anonymous IV (Leiden, New York: E. J. Brill, 1995), 18. The early polyphony of the Notre-Dame school is admittedly artificial-sounding. Vowels are prolonged well past the limits of comprehensible speech, and push the limits of vocal stamina. The upper parts are highly rhythmic, with rapid changes of melodic contour — an unusually bouncy way of singing extended vowels. It is surely unlikely that such four-part organum arose as a mere elaboration or evolutionary development of plainchant. Here follows an alternative hypothesis for the emergence of this musical phenomenon utilizing the concept of kairos. Diastemic notation makes possible not only precise tonal intervals, but also mensural or measured music: if one could not predict the tone a fellow-chorister was about to sing, there would be no use in coordinating melodies by counting in beats. Diastemic notation certainly gave rise to new musical forms, but the historicist assumption that mensural music superceded previous forms is an oversimplification. Sacred chant was held to be exempt from measure: Johannes de Garlandia's late 13th century treatise, Concerning Measured Music, opened, "Having spoken about plainchant, which is unmeasured,"37 which was then quoted at least twice in Anonymous IV's De Mensuris et Discantu.38 However, the new mensuration technique made possible the simultaneous combination of a measured discantus and a virtually unmeasured cantus firmus, that is, a sonic depiction of chronos and kairos. The terms cantus planus and cantus firmus originate at this time, significantly linking music to cosmic structure. Augustine recognized two firmaments: the firmament of the starry heavens, and the firmament of God's revealed word: It is said, For heaven shall be folded up like a scroll; and now is it stretched over us like a skin [...] Thou hast like a skin stretched out the firmament of Thy book, that is, Thy harmonizing words [...], announcing in time Thee Who madest times.39 In the cantus firmus of Perotin's four-part setting of Viderunt Omnes the Psalm — the word of God — is indeed stretched like a skin under the lively perichoresis of the three upper voices; the word viderunt alone lasts around a minute and a half. The elaborately prepared cadences of Notre Dame polyphony enhanced and extended the impact of the penultimate in an entirely new way. Anonymous IV famously wrote, "There are some who multiply many kinds of discords before one perfect concord, like before an octave, and rejoice and laugh greatly on that account, and it seems to be a great and wonderful thing to them, that this can be done."40 In Perotin's protracted cadences, the pleroma — the summation of all things — could hardly be more vividly presented. 37 John of Garland, Concerning Measured Music (De Mensurabili Musica), trans. Stanley H. Birnbaum (Colorado Springs: Colorado College Music Press, 1978), 1. 38 Yudkin, Jeremy, trans., The Music Treatise of Anonymous IV: A New Translation, Musicological Studies and Documents 41 (Neuhausen-Stuttgart: Hanssler-Verlag, American Institute of Musicology, 1985), 25, 38. 39 Augustine of Hippo, Confessions, Book XIII, Ch. 15, trans. Edward Bouverie Pusey (1909-14), http://www.sacred-texts.com/ chr/augconf/aug13.htm. Accessed May 24, 2013. 40 Yudkin, Anonymous IV, 70-71. Example 2: Viderunt Omnes, MS Pluteo 29, 1, Bibliotheca Mediceo-Laurenzi-ana, Florence. min.1-_ Example 3: Cadence at mm. 87-89 in Perotin's four-part Viderunt Omnes. The first Notre-Dame polyphony was written as Aristotle's works were being recovered, and Aristotle's assertion that the cosmos was eternal stimulated much discussion. Concepts related to messianic time such as tota simul, succession, and temporal division were revisited and debated.41 Perotin's polyphonic demonstration of simultaneous, intersecting time frames —kairos in tones— may have been a significant contribution to those debates. While Agamben's thought has shed light on key developments in harmony and time, we have not yet discussed sacrifice. Agamben finds the sacrificial system fully operational in today's biopolitical sphere, our own homines sacri are swelling the desperate populations of refugee camps in unprecedented numbers. Secularization is a form of repression. It leaves intact the forces it deals with by simply moving them from one place to another. Thus the political secularization of theological concepts (the transcendence of God as a paradigm of sovereign power) does nothing but displace the heavenly monarchy onto an earthly monarchy, leaving its power intact.42 Agamben's book Profanations, referencing Walter Benjamin's "Capitalism as Religion," describes this new earthly monarchy as a rampant capitalism developing parasitically from Christianity; however, "capitalism as religion does not aim at the transformation of the world but at its destruction."43 This destruction results from the cult of consumption, which has replaced the sacrificial act: What cannot be used is, as such, given over to consumption or to spectacular exhibition [...] If to profane means to return to common use that which has been removed to the sphere of the sacred, the capitalist religion in its extreme phase aims at creating something absolutely unprofanable.44 For Agamben, spectacular exhibition is exemplified by the museum: The Museum occupies exactly the space and function once reserved for the Temple as the place of sacrifice. To the faithful in the Temple — the pilgrims who would travel across the earth from [...] sanctuary to sanctuary — correspond today the tourists who restlessly travel in a world that has been abstracted into a Museum. Tourism is the primary industry in the world, involving more than six hundred and fifty million people each year [...] carry out on their own flesh what is perhaps the most desperate experience that one can have: the irrevocable loss of all use, the absolute impossibility of profaning.45 41 Cf. Richard C. Dales, "Time and Eternity in the Thirteenth Century," Journal of the History of Ideas vol. 49, no. 1 (Jan.-Mar. 1988), 27-45. 42 Agamben, Profanations, 77. 43 Ibid., 80. 44 Ibid., 82. 45 Agamben, Profanations, 84-5. Wikipedia's Tourism entry (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tourism, accessed May 25, 2013) cites the 2012 "World Tourism Statistics and Rankings" showing more than one billion people involved in tourism. "Exhibition-value" has taken the place of use-value and exchange-value.46 Agamben's demonization of capitalism may be overdrawn, but it suggests why the early twentieth-century overthrow of the old gods failed its promise. It neglected to vanquish Mammon, who was in the wings scoffing at the rhetoric of artistic liberation. Today Stravinsky and Schoenberg are uneasily sequestered in concert hall-museums amongst the many composers in powdered wigs whom they had hoped to supplant, while commercial music asserts its omnipresence and omnipotence with fully technologized pomp. Agamben challenges us to make profane music, resisting both the museum/concert hall and commodification: a daunting challenge that will involve carefully discerning what we have faith in—that is, to whom or to what we make sacrifice; what times we hope for; and whom we harmoniously love, with due regard to our penultimate situation. Bibliography Agamben, Giorgio. Homo Sacer: Sovereign Power and Bare Life. 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The Journal of Musicology, Vol. 14, No. 3 (Summer 1996): 263-298. Connolly, Sean. "Vita Prima Sanctae Brigitae Background and Historical Value." The Journal of the Royal Society of Antiquaries of Ireland 119, (1989):5-49. Accessed May 15, 2013. http://www.jstor.org.proxy.lib.sfu.ca/stable/25508969. Crombie, A. C. Science, Art and Nature in Medieval and Modern Thought. London: Hambleton Press, 1996. Dales, Richard C. "Time and Eternity in the Thirteenth Century." Journal of the History of Ideas Vol. 49 No. 1 (Jan.-Mar. 1988): 27-45. Accessed October 18, 2013. http://www. jstor.org/stable/2709702. DeWoskin, Kenneth J. A Song for One or Two: Music and the Concept of Art in Early China. Michigan Monographs in Chinese Studies Volume 42. Ann Arbor, MI: Centre for Chinese Studies, The University of Michigan, 1982. Franklin, John Curtis. "Diatonic Music in Greece: A Reassessment of Its Antiquity." Mem-nosyne, Fourth Series, Vol. 55, Fasc. 6 (2002): 669-702. Accessed May 19, 2013. http:// www.jstor.org/stable/4433380. Godwin, Joscelyn, ed. The Harmony of the Spheres: A Sourcebook of the Pythagorean Tradition in Music. Rochester, Vermont: Inner Traditions International, 1993. Hartleben, Otto Erich, after Albert Giraud. Pierrot Lunaire. Translated by Andrew Porter, 1984. http://www.da-capo.org/html/PierrotEnglish.html. Hindemith, Paul. A Concentrated Course in Traditional Harmony Book 1. New York: Schott, 1943. John of Garland. Concerning Measured Music (De Mensurabili Musica). Translated by Stanley H. Birnbaum. Colorado Springs: Colorado College Music Press, 1978. Johnston, Richard. W. and David Mulroy. "The Hymn to Hermes and the Athenian Altar of the Twelve Gods." The Classical World, 103, No. 1 (Fall 2009): 3-16. Accessed May 19, 2013. http://www.jstor.org/stable/40599900. Kruchenyky, Aleksei. Victory Over the Sun. Translated by Larissa Shmailo, 2012. http:// intranslation.brooklynrail.org/russian/victory-over-the-sun. Newton, Isaac. Scholium to the Definitions in Philosophiae Naturalis Principia Math-ematica, Book 1 (1689). Translated by Andrew Motte (1729), rev. Florian Cajori. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1934. Pesce, Dolores. Guido D'Arezzo's Regule rithmice, Prologus in antiphonarium, and Epistola ad michahelem: a critical text and translation with an introduction, annotations, indices, and new manuscript inventories. Ottawa: Institute of Mediaeval Music, 1999. Smith, Robertson. The Religion of the Semites. Edinburgh: Adam & C. Black, 1894. Spitzer, Leo. Classical and Christian Ideas of World Harmony: Prolegomena to an Interpretation of the Word "Stimmung." Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins Press, 1963. Steiner, Franz. Taboo. Translated by Laura Bohannan. London: Cohen & West, 1956. Stupples, Peter. "Malevich and the Liberation of Art." New Zealand Slavonic Journal (2001): 11-36. Accessed October 19, 2013. http://www.jstor.org/stable/40922063. Treitler, Leo. "The 'Unwritten' and 'Written Transmission' of Medieval Chant and The Start-Up of Musical Notation." The Journal of Musicology, Vol. 10, No. 2 (Spring 1992): 131-191. Accessed May 24, 2013. http://www.jstor.org/stable/763611. Treitler, Leo. With Voice and Pen-. Coming to Know Medieval Song and How It Was Made. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2003. van Deusen, Nancy Elizabeth. Theology and Music at the Early University: The Case of Robert Grosseteste and Anonymous IV. Leiden, New York: E. J. Brill, 1995. Yudkin, Jeremy, translator. The Music Treatise of Anonymous IV: A New Translation. Musicological Studies and Documents 41. Neuhausen-Stuttgart: Hänssler-Verlag, American Institute of Musicology, 1985. POVZETEK V harmoniji zgodnjega 20. stoletja sta bila žrtvovanje in čas orisana kot prvinska predhodnika miru, blagostanja in napredka. Ta koreniti pomenski zasuk je našel svoj glasbeni izraz, ko je Schonberg opravil s harmonijo, Stravinski uporabil pretanjeni orkestrski zvok za slikanje okrutnega žrtvovanja, ustvarjalci ruske futuristične opere pa preizkušali možnost življenja brez preteklosti. Nove znanstvene discipline, antropologija, psihoanaliza in fizika so - kot se je zdelo - podprle prizadevanja za umetniško - in človeško - svobodo s tem, da so harmonijo, sakralno in čas prikazale kot sredstvo prisile. Kasneje je italijanski filozof Giorgio Agamben raziskoval pomen sakralnega. V antičnem Rimu, je sacre pomenilo odmik stvari ali oseb izpod vladavine in zaščite človeškega prava v domeno bogov. Nasprotno so zgodnji grški, hebrejski in kitajski pisci, kot npr. homerska himna Hermesu, predvidevali, da sta glasba in žrtvovanje pot v svet bogov, harmonija pa povezujoča skladnost ubranega stvarstva. Agamben je raziskoval tudi spremenjeni pogled na čas, kakršnega najdemo v obdobju zgodnjega krščanstva, ki je slavilo preboj meje med umrljivostjo in neumrljivostjo. Pavlovo Pismo Rimljanom se spoprijema z daljnosežnimi posledicami te spremembe. Pavel uporablja grško besedo kairos, "sedanjost" za čas med Kristusovim vstajenjem in parousia, koncem časov. Kairos označuje polnost časa, v katerem se povezujeta preteklost in sedanjost, obe pa sta predzadnji. Pavel je pri poskusu, da bi pojasnil posledice kairos, ustvaril novo pesniško tehniko: prve primere končne rime, tako Agamben, najdemo prav v Pavlovih pismih. V srednjem veku je bil kairos še naprej ključen za oblikovanje krščanske liturgične in monastične prakse. Končna rima je bila široko uporabljana za olajšanje pomnenja, gregorijanski koral je pospeševal učenje ključnih besedil, npr. psalmov. Gregorijanski spevi, kot je npr. Viderunt Omnes, so prinašali pomembne prozodične zglede, ki so pojasnjevali skladnjo in bogatili besedilo z bibličnimi aluzijami, vključno s harmonskimi proporci nekdanjega jeruzalemskega templja. Tudi pojav večglasja v 13. stoletju lahko razumemo kot razvijanje prikazovanja kairos. Perotinova štiriglasna obdelava Viderunt Omnes vsebuje tako ritmično določeno, kot ritmično svobodno glasbo. Tehnika cantusa firmusa oživlja starodavno idejo nebesnega svoda, širne ravnine, ki ločuje vidni, času podložni svet od nevidnega, sakralnega. Raztegnjene kadence, ki sledijo ostrim disonancam, so simbol sprave. Povod za nastanek zapletenih in precej nenaravno zvenečih organumov bi bile lahko razprave o pravkar odkritih Aristotelovih delih pri Notre-Dame - še posebej o tem, da je bil za Aristotla kozmos večen. Ogranum je pokazal, da lahko različna časa - kronos in kairos - sobivata in se dotikata. Če je žrtvovanje darovanje oseb ali predmetov za uporabo v svetišču ali območju sakralnega, je pro-fanacija vrnitev iz svetišča, oskrunjenje. Agamben razume muzeje, katerih inventar ljudem ni več na voljo za uporabo, kot sodobno ustreznico svetišč. Kapitalizem obsoja, da je onemogočil profanacijo: umetnostna dela, kot vse drugo, vključno s človeškimi telesi, postanejo objekti; bodisi za bleščečo razstavo, ali za golo potrošnjo. Zato so tudi zgoraj omenjene potencialno revolucionarne skladbe skladateljev zgodnjega 20. stoletja kmalu končale v muzejih koncertnih dvoran, medtem ko se ogromni dobički kujejo z ustvarjanjem porabne glasbe. Agambenovo delo izziva skladatelje k ustvarjanju glasbe, ki jo je mogoče profanirati. Prevod naslova, izvlečka in povzetka Aleš Nagode UDK 783.2:784.4 DOI: 10.4312/mz.50.2.31-42 Marina Ritzarev Bar-Ilan University, Israel Univerza Bar-Ilan, Izrael King David and the Frog Kralj David in žaba Prejeto: 26. december 2012 Sprejeto: 27. marec 2013 Ključne besede: liturgično, paraliturgično, govorjeni jezik, rodovno-ljudsko, bitno-ljudsko Izvleček Prispevek raziskuje odnos med litugričnimi in izvenliturgičnimi žanri duhovne glasbe, tako v vsakodnevni praksi kot v preteklosti. Odkriva vzporednice med rusko duhovno glasbo 18. st. in sodobno hebrejsko. Avtorica je svojo teorijo govorjenega jezika v glasbi uporabila za pojasnitev stilistične odprtosti izvenliturgične glasbe (podobno kot v ljudski glasbi). Received: 26th December 2012 Accepted: 27th March 2013 Keywords: liturgical, paraliturgical, vernacular, phylo-vernacular, onto-vernacular Abstract The interrelations between the liturgical and paraliturgical genres of sacred music in both live practice and in historiography are explored. Parallels are found between eighteenth-century Russian and modern Hebrew religious music. The author's theory of the vernacular in music is applied to explain the stylistic openness in paraliturgical music (as a parallel to onto-vernacular folklore). The antinomy of sacred and profane in music ostensibly separates the two spheres clearly, and these major genres are indeed independent in their lives. Musically, however, they are far from having a black and white demarcation. There is a huge buffer zone between them where they merge and overlap, leaving little space for their pure cores. Widespread stories of contrafacta, when tunes from one side infiltrate into the other, mostly from the secular to the spiritual, reflect a vital practice, and whether they are exceptions or the rule is well worth a discussion. It will be helpful, from the beginning, to note that religious music in many societies is subdivided into the liturgical and paraliturgical genres, which constitute its internal antinomy. Stylistically these genres usually (not always) differ. While liturgical music tends to stability, is usually canonized, and serves to symbolize its ontological essence, paraliturgical music is stylistically open, freely interacts with popular music, and is essentially changeable. It is thus on the paraliturgical sphere, with its laws of give-and-take exchange between the sacred and the profane, that we will focus (leaving aside paraliturgical art music like masses, oratorios, passions etc.). The reason for this choice is the striking similarity between this internal division within sacred music1 and that within folklore, which has long occupied my mind. In developing a theory of the vernacular in music, I arrived at a sub-categorization of folklore, dividing it into phylo-vernacular and onto-vernacular spheres, to which I shall refer in greater detail below.22 Here I just note that phylo-vernacular refers to ancient (authentic, ritualistic, basically unchangeable) folklore, and onto-vernacular refers to its changeable (urbanized, influenced by popular genres) part, which despite its massiv-ity is often overshadowed by the phylo-vernacular and has remained remarkably less popular as an object of research. The two subcategories of the two major antinomies (sacred music and folklore) match well: liturgical music is a counterpart to the phylo-vernacular folklore, and paraliturgical music is a counterpart to the onto-vernacular folklore. This paradigm offers a promising tool in the present approach to paraliturgical music. However, before I proceed with generalizations, I shall present and analyse some historiographical episodes from the Russian musical culture in order to justify the necessity for the above qualifications. Tchaikovsky's disappointments Tchaikovsky, in the 1870s, experienced two disappointments in relation to Russian national music legacy. The first was associated with Ukrainian ("Little Russian" as it was referred to in the nineteenth century) folklore. Preparing for his first trip to Kamenka where the estate of his sister was located, he anticipated hearing and collecting a treasury of folk songs. Instead, what he found was far below his expectations: He had heard so much of the beauty of the Little Russian folk-songs, and hoped to amass material for his future compositions. This was not to be. The songs he heard seemed to him artificial and retouched, and by no means equal in beauty or originality to the folk melodies of Great Russia. He only wrote down one song while at Kamenka - a tune sung daily by the women who worked in the garden. He first used this melody in a string quartet, which he began to compose in the autumn, but afterwards changed it into the Scherzo a la russe for pianoforte, Op. 1 No. 1.3 1 While the term "sacred music" sometimes implies religious music outside the liturgy, which is in fact paraliturgical, I use here the words "religious" and "sacred" as synonyms embracing both liturgical and paraliturgical genres. 2 Among the articles on this topic see my "Conceptualizing the Vernacular in Music", Garment and Core: Jews and their Musical Experiences, eds. E. Avitsur, M. Ritzarev, E. Seroussi (Bar-Ilan University Press, 2012), 31-40; "Between the Field and the Salon", A Network of Significations: texts on music semiotics in honor of Raymond Monelle, ed. by Esti Sheinberg (Ashgate, 2012), 35-45; "'A Singing Peasant': An Historical Look at National Identity in Russian Music", in Min-ad: Israel Studies in Musicology Online. http://www.biu.ac.il/HU/mu/min-ad/07-08/Ritzarev-A_Singing.pdf, ed. by Adena Portowitz; "The Augmented Second, Chagall's Silhouettes and the Six-Pointed Star", in Musica Judaica, vol. XVIII, 5766 (2005-2006): 43-69. 3 Modest Tchaikovsky, Life and Letters of Peter Tchaikovsky by Modeste Tchaikovsky edited from Russian with an Introduction by Rosa Newmarch. (London-New York, 1904; reprint University Press of Pacific, 2004), 59. Tchaikovsky's second disappointment related to Russian sacred music. He was playing with the idea of composing a liturgy and, naturally, he compared the style he envisioned with that of two of the classics of Russian spiritual music - the eighteenth-century composers Maxim Berezovsky (174?-1777) and Dmitry Bortniansky (1751-1825). Their music, however, did not correspond to his idea of what Russian sacred music should be. He wrote: "I recognize some merits in Bortniansky, Berezovsky and so on, but how little their music harmonizes with the Byzantine style of architecture and icons, with the entire tone of the Orthodox service!"4 The composer was thus upset by the non-original sources of two basic elements of the national culture: folklore and chant. These were the two main symbols that constituted the sanctum sanctorum of "Russianness." At least so Tchaikovsky might have thought, influenced by Russian nationalism of the 1860s. The composer-folklore relations in Russian culture have been widely discussed, and I focus here on the historiographical aspect of understanding Russian religious music. (Tchaikovsky is just a point of departure.) Where is Russian paraliturgical music? Tchaikovsky approached eighteenth-century Russian religious music according to the standards of his own time. Hence, his opinion as noted above was derived from a web of misunderstandings. First, he did not know that Dmitry Bortniansky, who had headed the Court Capella from 1796-1825, wrote his music not during that period, as had been considered until recently, but much earlier, mainly in the 1770-80s.5 Second, most of Bortniansky's music was paraliturgical, and it is thus only natural that it featured an early classical style. Third, the secular spirit of the Enlightenment era at Catherine Il's Imperial court was so strong that it created preconditions for the new style of liturgy. A new corpus of liturgical music composed in the gallant style had been generated, and from then on it existed alongside the canonical plainchant. Fourth, this unusual proliferation and secularization of religious music in eighteenth-century Russia provided a certain compensation for educated society, which, having become familiar with contemporary Western music and highly enjoying it, realized how sadly undeveloped their own national secular music was.6 Tchaikovsky's (like his contemporaries') idea of the relatively recent past of Russian religious music, therefore, was totally wrong. This, however, was only part of the matter. The other part was that his idea of the real state of affairs in his time was that of an insider 4 P. Tchaikovsky, letter to N.F. von Meck. Kamenka, 30 April 1878. In Polina Vaydman, ed., P.I. Chaikovsky - N.F. fon Mekk, Perepiska, in four volumes: 1876-90. Tchaikovsky s State Memorial Museum in Klin, Tchaikovsky Academic-Editorial Board, vol. 2 (Chelyabinsk: Music Production International, 2010), 170. 5 Marina Ritzarev, Kompozitor Bortniansky (in Russian, Leningrad: Muzyka, 1979); Eighteenth-Century Russian Music (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2006), 159. 6 The reasons for the belated development of secular instrumental music in Russia were mainly associated with Orthodoxy's prohibition of instrumental music in the church and the persecution of Russian minstrels (skomorokhi) who were the main presenters of instrumental music. Russian paraliturgical music, on the contrary, had a huge repertoire in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. The most popular genres were popular songs on psalm texts - kanty andpsalmy, and highly developed polyphonic motets - the so-called partes concerti or - later - simply concerti. who could not envision it from within a broader context. In view of the current complete picture, the situation in regard to religious music was quite strange, to put it mildly. The fact of the matter is that from the beginning of the nineteenth century (Alexander I's reign) and onwards, two crucial changes took place in Russian social life. First, Russian secular genres now included the widely available instrumental music. A fashionable religious repertoire, that served once as their surrogate was no longer needed. Second, whereas in the eighteenth century state ceremonies were accompanied by paraliturgical music, the nineteenth century developed a secular official music and, consequently, the ceremonial function of the old pieces became irrelevant. Third, the generally reactionary mood that defined Alexander I's rule after the Vienna Congress affected the religious style in general. The aging Bortniansky had to revise his works and to reduce elements of the eighteenth-century gallant style. Further into the nineteenth century, the relations between State and Church changed in such a way that the church service became more ascetic in style, while the synod censorship became very strict, forbidding the performance of Orthodox paraliturgical music in concerts and sometimes not even endorsing for publication the eighteenth-century paraliturgical music by Bortniansky, Berezovsky, and their contemporaries, which was too Italianated for its taste. Tchaikovsky's relation to these composers was, thus, formed by the prevailing ideology of his time and little differed from that of the Holy Synod's censors. Finally, the ban on the appearance of Christ's image on the theatre stage on the one hand, and the still existing prohibition against musical instruments in church on the other hand, made oratorical music on biblical themes decidedly impossible, leaving Russian composers to envy their West-European counterparts. What arises from all the above circumstances was that, in nineteenth-century Russia, paraliturgical music ceased to exist and became erased from the cultural memory of nineteenth-century Russian society, having been substituted by other values.7 Consequently, not knowing either the history or the full legacy of Russian religious music, and not being aware of State-Church policies in the religious sphere, Russian composers were unable to analyse the situation and could only take their reality for granted, being unable to introduce any changes. Nationalism and religious music What decisively contributed to the nineteenth-century Russian composers' estrangement from Berezovsky, Bortniansky, and their contemporaries, was nationalism in its narrow sense, based on a lack of historical knowledge. People knew that both Berezovsky and Bortniansky had studied in Italy, and hence perceived them as musical foreigners. Although their beloved Mozart, Gluck, Handel, and no less beloved Glinka, had studied in Italy too, this disturbed the public less. Mythologized figures were (and perhaps still are) somewhat immune to nationalistic extra-musical prejudices. 7 Although the repertoire survived in Count Sheremeteffs cappella as a relict of the old tradition, it did not change the general state of affairs. See more in detail on the problem of nineteenth-century Russian paraliturgical music in my Tchaikovsky's Pathétique and Russian Culture (Ashgate, 2014). There were thus at least three misunderstandings working together against the sacred music of eighteenth-century composers - mostly that of Bortniansky and Be-rezovsky.8 The first concerned the nature of the genre in which they mostly worked: their paraliturgical music was misinterpreted as liturgical, and their liturgical music was not understood in its cultural context. The second misunderstanding related to the common-practice idiom of the eighteenth century. It is true that Berezovsky's and Bortniansky's music was essentially Italian, but there was little music in the eighteenth century that would not sound Italian, be it by Mozart, Myslivechek, or J. C. Bach. The third misunderstanding was due to historical-aesthetic inaccuracy. Tchaikovsky should have compared eighteenth-century religious music with the elegant eighteenth-century church architecture and devotional painting, both of which were Italianated to the same extent as the repertoire of the contemporary musicians. If the composer took medieval icons as a model of authenticity, he should have looked at medieval Russian chant, which, alas, was only just beginning to be studied. In search of authenticity Such disappointment in the Russian national symbols reflected a common nineteenth-century phenomenon which is still at work: an underestimation of two vast entities in which dynamically changeable music exists - that of what Tchaikovsky called the "artificial," "re-touched" part of folklore, and that of paraliturgical music. Without going too deeply into historiography, we can summarize that the search for authenticity in sacred music - in different cultures - is very similar to that in folklore. In both genres the cultural ideal lies in the ancient/original/unchangeable or, in other words, it has an ontological foundation. Anything that introduces new music realities is often ignored or reproached as cultural waste, but rarely accepted as value, studied, and respected. As Judith R. Cohen notes: "The traditional repertoire, [is] generally favored by scholars over more recently developed types."9 This state of affairs seems unacceptable to me. If professional musicians do not like such music because of its "non-authenticity," this does not mean that this repertoire is not vernacular for the ordinary folk. Why then should it be less valuable, less "authentic"? Can one be sure that what is considered today as "authentic" was always such, and had not at one time been borrowed from another culture or another genre? When talking about a liturgical corpus as canonized praxis, we rarely ask ourselves when it was canonized: When did it emerged, or at some indefinite time later? Here I switch to the issue of the complexity of the vernacular. 8 Contrary to the Russians, Berlioz, who happened to listen to Bortniansky's music during his visit to Russia, was deeply impressed. See Hector Berlioz, Evenings with the Orchestra, trans. and ed., with Introduction byJacques Barzun at the request of the Berlioz Society (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1956), 238-40. 9 Judith R. Cohen, ""Ya Salio de la Mar": Judeo-Spanish Wedding Songs among Moroccan Jews in Canada", in Ellen Koskoff, ed., Women and Music in Cross-Cultural Perspective (New York: Greenwood Press, 1987), 56. The same holds true in Renaissance studies. As Maria Rika Maniates notes in her Mannerism in Italian Music and Culture, 1530-1630, "the situation with paraliturgical music, as always, is somewhat more fluid. Because musical innovations are associated with unruly attitudes prevalent in secular music, ultraconservative and mildly progressive thought naturally gravitates to sacred music. (Chapel Hill, NC: University of North Carolina Press, 1979, 489). Vernacular is a relative concept, being relevant to the environment in which an individual develops. As environments differ, hence I suggest that "vernacular" needs sub-categorization. There are groups of people who mostly maintain a tribal or closed-community life, whose music is attached to ritual, folkways, language, and landscape, and its performers and audience comprise an inseparable and syncretic whole. Their repertoire changes very slowly if at all, strongly resisting external influences. It is very stable, by definition, and of the same nature as liturgical chant, a canon. I call this kind of music phylo-vernacular. "Phylo" is taken from phylogenesis in the sense of a basic genetic code inherited and passed on by each generation in turn. In contrast, there are, and they are immeasurably more, open societies where music is detached from ritual, language and landscape, and its performers are often separated from the audience. It is influenced by and subject to fashion. It is changeable by definition. I call this repertoire onto-vernacular, derived from ontogenesis, which refers to features acquired by some being during its lifetime as a result of adaptation to the environment. It is neither popular music, although it possesses some of its properties, nor is it "authentic folklore," although it may sometimes seem to exist as such. It is a kind of urbanized folklore circulating between the canonized corpus and popular music, and nourished by both. It presents a vibrant laboratory, in which give-and-take processes are always active. The vernacular thus embraces both stable and changeable layers of folklore. It is no wonder that the phylo-vernacular core is usually recognized as the most precious element of national cultures. Such a view is directly associated with the ethos of agrarianism, cultivated through many generations, societies, and cultures since Antiquity (John Lock and Jean-Jacques Rousseau are only milestones). It is generally perceived as a social environment for human beings, in which people of the land constitute an ideal self-sufficient society and possess such high moral qualities as prudence, courage, humanity, and so on. The antithesis to this is, of course, an urban society that corrupts the human soul, and hence is traditionally demonized. This antinomy is embedded in educated society so deeply that it inevitably casts its shadow on the perception of folklore and religious music and it determines the clear preference for "authentic" sources. Defending paraliturgical music As mentioned above, if we compare correlations between phylo- and onto-ver-nacular folklore and between liturgical chant and paraliturgical music, we see a basic similarity of these antinomies. Chant is very much like phylo-vernacular folklore in its stability, which is hardly surprising considering their connection with ritual; while paraliturgical music shares all the main properties with onto-vernacular folklore. As can be seen in Example 1, which reflects the interaction of major genres, paraliturgi-cal music is an immense pool in which various styles of the epoch are collected and reflected. They are invariably based on the popular common-practice idiom of the world's cultural centre during any particular epoch, and they are influenced by other genres more than any of them. Example 1: Interaction of major genres as give-and-take process. The establishment of any paraliturgical repertoire is a spontaneous process, which, if not restricted, occurs similarly in different countries, religions, and epochs. People sing spiritual texts to whatever tunes they like from their soundscape, irrespective of their generic, ethnic, social, confessional, gender, or whatever other kind of affiliation. Many of the restrictions pertaining to the liturgical context are lifted. Whereas, for example, women singing and the use of instruments are forbidden in the liturgy, they are permissible in the paraliturgical genre. Judith R. Cohen describes such a case in a Canadian community of Moroccan Jews in the 1990s,10 which vividly resembles the ways of existence of Bortniansky's pieces. The young Bortniansky composed both paraliturgical and liturgical pieces in a style as openly pleasurable as the female fashion of the time. Their tunes were sisters to popular songs and based on minuet and other dance rhythms. Even his liturgical pieces, amazingly, existed in a paraliturgical way. They were highly fashionable, advertised and published for domestic music-making alongside his French romance "Dans le verger de Cythere"; they circulated with Russian Orthodox and Latin (!) texts,11 were arranged for clavicembalo, as well as for vocal ensemble, and could be so embellished with fioritures that their melodic outline was hardly distinguishable. It is probable that Bortniansky's reputation was saved in the eyes of nineteenth-century composers by their unawareness of such "sacrilege" as that of his youthful pranks in a frivolous era. Such a stylistic shift to secularization of the liturgy can only be possible, however, if and when the paraliturgical drive is so strong that it begins to influence the stronghold of the liturgical service. The example of the late eighteenth-century Russian liturgical music did not remain a unique phenomenon. A similar trend can be recognized in modern Jewish music. As Philipp V. Bohlman writes: Modern liturgical traditions increasingly opened themselves to external influences, such as the variants of the same song appearing in the nineteenth-century anthologies of cantorial music... In the course of modernity it was necessary for musical leadership in the liturgy to expand, with soloists, chorus, and instruments enriching the texture of worship—and raising new anxieties about what Jewish music might or might not be.12 Lorraine S. Brugh depicts an even more dramatic range of changes in the modern American church services. Studying the repertoire of the three congregations in and around Chicago (Fourth Presbyterian Church, Holy Name Cathedral of Chicago's Roman Catholic archdiocesan centre, and Valparaiso University's Lutheran Chapel of the Resurrection), she found the following: Borrowing from each other's traditions was common to all three services. The Presbyterians were singing a hymn with Roman Catholic origins: The tune originated in a 1631 10 Cohen, ""Ya Salio de la Mar": ...", 55. 11 Manuscripts of this kind can be found in Boston University (USA): Howard Gotlieb Archival Research Center, box 5, folder 5. 12 Philip V. Bohlman, Jewish Music and Modernity (New York: Oxford University Press, 2008), xxv (with the reference to Heidi Zimmermann, Tora und Shira: Untersuchungen zur Musikauffassung des rabbinischen Judentums. Bern: Peter Lang, 2000: passim, but esp. 91-108). German hymnal, the Gross Katolisch Gesangbuch (The Large Catholic Hymnal). The Catholics were listening to a seventeenth-century Lutheran text and tune arranged by a twentieth-century German Lutheran. The Lutherans sang a hymn from the Sunday School Movement, an evangelical nineteenth-century North American revivalist movement. Each of these hymns is still sung in its tradition of origin as well, adding to the multiplicity of each hymn's use. While this does point to a common ecumenical practice among major North American church bodies, it also raises questions about what it is that church bodies are holding on to as their own traditions. Are Presbyterians, Roman Catholics, and Lutherans also singing their own traditions' sacred song? Another look around those worship services shows that, in each of these three cases, indeed they are. The author concludes: Taken together, these three worship experiences show similar tendencies in using music of their own tradition while borrowing freely from other church bodies. They each have their own traditions, draw on them deeply, yet also cross into other traditions to expand their own musical corpus or canon. Looking into these services shows that all of them are drawing their musical materials from multiple musical canons.13 Unarguably, paraliturgical experiences are more attractive to people than liturgical ones, because they feel 'modern', social, free from censorship, and their spiritual expression is more personal and sincere than within a canonized framework. Hence, the paraliturgical sphere is stronger than the liturgical; it does not need canonization and preservation; and in the interaction between the two, it is usually the paraliturgical that influences the liturgy and causes it to change from time to time. The paraliturgical repertoire is eclectic in its sources. While Bortniansky used motives of the minuet, Ukrainian folk song, Italian opera seria, French romance and so on, the community of Syrian Jews in Brooklyn or Mexico City incorporate tunes from Arab folklore, Beethoven, and Broadway.14 There are many spheres of peoples' activity in the traditional arts, crafts, and skills like performance / interpretations of the old music repertoire, or cuisine, in which purists struggle for authenticity, often applying their demands (criteria) to the wrong genres. In addition, there is a widespread opinion that all "corruption" or deviation from the canon is usually considered as something entirely new. I would argue, however, that today's canon could once well have been a fashionable novelty or even an unacceptable daring attempt. Lorraine S. Brugh rightly perceives the twenty-first-century rejuvenation of American hymnology as a crisis of canon, but this is a natural crisis like those accompanying different stages of human life: infant, toddler, five-year old, adolescent, quarterlife, midlife etc. Due to such crises today's hymnology differs from the medieval 13 Lorraine S. Brugh, "The Canon within the Canon: Sacred Song and Liturgical Music in the Twenty-First Century", in Pastoral Music, vol. 33, no. 2 (December 2008) (provided by ProQuest LLC): 39+. 14 Kay Kaufman Shelemay, Let Jasmine Rain Down: Song and Remembrance among Syrian Jews (Chicago: Chicago University Press, 1998), 115. one. Someday it too will be canonized, just as the two-and-a-half-century-old Bortnian-sky's pieces are now canonized. As in typical Russian "comparative" anecdotes, which must contain at least three competing protagonists, one Russian, another (one or more) - foreign, and the last -mandatorily a Jew, who usually suggests some Columbus's-egg-like solution, there is indeed a smart solution that developed in the Lubavich Hassidism HABAD as early as in the eighteenth century, by Bortniansky's contemporary, the Lithuanian Rabbi Schneur Zalman (1745-1813). As can be understood from his doctrine, while borrowings for paraliturgical music are taken for granted, they must nonetheless undergo a procedure of purification. First, the tune as phenomenon is elevated into some cosmic dimension that makes it ownerless. No matter who composed it (or thinks that he did), or played or sang it, it belongs to nobody. Hence it cannot be compromised by any inappropriate origin (generic, ethnic, or social). If the tune is emotionally expressive, it is good for a spiritual experience. It receives a spiritual text and after being performed in the presence of a rabbi, it becomes initiated into the corpus of Hasidic nigunim [melodies]. There is a developed argumentation, including philosophical paradigms, stories metaphorizing the process of tune's absorption and so on. As Ellen Koskoff summarizes: Lubavitchers believe that one of the most effective vehicles for achieving devekuth [an ecstatic experience during which the Hasid receives divine knowledge] is through the vocal performance of specific melodies (nigunim, sing. nigun) in correct social/ religious contexts. The term nigun signifies any paraliturgical or non-liturgical melody performed by Lubavitchers on a variety of occasions, including farbrengen (gatherings), weddings, Sabbath meals, certain joyous holidays, such as Simhat To-rah, and often during individual moments of prayer and contemplation... Nigunim can be either originally composed by a member of this group or brought into the repertoire by the traditional practice of borrowing and subsequent textual change... Lubavitchers see music, in general, as existing at a both higher and deeper spiritual plane than words, so theoretically, any melody can be used as a vehicle for spiritual communication. Music not composed by a Lubavitcher, however, may convey an improper intention through its "mundane" text or its association with the non-religious world. Such a melody, perceived as containing trapped properties of simhah and hitlahavut, though, can be adopted and "freed" from its mundane setting, thus preventing its harmful influences from having an effect on the performer or listener. Further, its composer, presumably a non- Lubavitcher, is also elevated to a more appropriate spiritual level by losing his/her association to the music. Although this sort of appropriation is a general compositional practice among many Jewish groups, it has especial value in Lubavitcher life...15 15 Ellen Koskoff, "The Sound of a Woman's Voice: Gender and Music in a New York Hasidic Community", in Ellen Koskoff, ed., Women and Music in Cross-Cultural Perspective (New York: Greenwood Press, 1987), 214; for more detail see also Ellen Koskoff, The Concept of Nigun Among Lubavitcher Hasidim in the United States (Ann Arbor: University Miicrofilms, 1976). Whose privilege is it to praise the Lord? I titled my paper "King David and the Frog" according to one of the exegetical legends of the Bible (the collection is called Yalkut Shimoni). Our sages of blessed memory said that when King David completed the Book of Psalms, he had a feeling of self-satisfaction. He said before The Holy One Blessed Be He, "Is there any creation in Your world that says songs and praises more than I do?" That same hour, a frog appeared to him, and said to him: "David! Don't be complacent, for I say songs and praises more than you do. Not only that, but three thousand parables are said about every sonnet that I recite, for it is said (Kings 15:12), "And he spoke three thousand parables and his songs were one-thousand and five.16 I see here an allegory of liturgical and paraliturgical music. King David's psalms, by right of their author's authority, are a canon for the expression of the religious feeling of the community. The Frog, if not a "religious anarchist," is at least not burdened by the King's responsibilities, and so proclaims more songs and praises, and this is true: the paraliturgical repertoire is always much broader than the liturgical. It is not by chance that liturgical and paraliturgical genres have coexisted for centuries, if not longer. The canonized prayer as an element of everyday life gives people a sense of stability, so necessary for moral survival. Sometimes the slightest deviation from the canon makes people feel as if the ground is slipping from under their feet. The updating and unification of the liturgical corpus undertaken in seventeenth-century Russia was one of the strong contributing factors to the Split (Raskol) - one of the most tragic episodes in Russian history, when the Old Believers left official society and fled to the unpopulated far reaches or self-immolated by fire in protest. The canon, nevertheless, does not prevent people from expressing their religious feelings in a non-canonical and individual manner. The Frog challenged the King and proclaimed the right of every creature to praise the Almighty in its own way. 16 Translation by Rabby Lazer Brody, http://www.breslev.co.il/articles/family/breslev_kids/king_david_and_the_frog. aspx?id=1l643&language=english. Accessed October 14, 2013. POVZETEK Članek se osredotoča na protislovnost med dvema vrstama duhovne glasbe: liturgično in izvenliturgično. Čeprav se je ločnica izoblikovala v 19. st., je ostala prisotna vse do danes. Danes, ko je vsesplošno sprejeta, laže opazimo omejitve mislecev 19. st., ki so izvenliturgično glasbo presojali z enakimi merili kot liturgično. Žanra se namreč bistveno razlikujeta, zavedanje o tem pa nam omogoča prevrednotenje izvenliturgične glasbe. Medtem ko liturgična glasba teži k nespremenljivosti, se upira vplivom od zunaj in stilističnim novostim, je izvenliturgična glasba odprta za vtise živega zvočnega sveta svojega časa in se zato spreminja iz roda v rod. Ta ključna razlika vzpostavlja podobnost med nasprotjema "liturgično" proti "izvenliturgično" in "avtentično" proti "popačeno" (ali urbanizirano) ljudsko izročilo. Tudi slednje je izpostavljeno podcenjevanju, kakršno je značilno za izvenliturgično glasbo, in vedno znova potrebuje kulturno in estetsko "opravičilo". Ko opazujem razliko v vlogi "avtentičnega" in "urbaniziranega" ljudskega izročila, predlagam razdelitev pojma "ljudskega" (ang. vernacular) v dva diferencirana koncepta: rodovno-ljudski (ang. phylo-vernacular) in bitno-ljudski (ang. onto-vernacular), skladno s pojmoma filogeneza oz. ontogeneza. Rodovno-ljudsko zajema stalni (počasi spreminjajoči se) korpus glasbe (plemenski v terminologiji Bruna Nettla), ki je povezan s krajevnim obredjem, jezikom in pokrajino ter ga ohranja več generacij. Pri njegovem izvajanju ni delitve na izvajalce in občinstvo. Bitno-ljudski pa je ločen od obredja in hitro vsrkava vplive iz splošno znane sodobne prakse. Izvajalec se loči od poslušalca, ki postane pasivni spremljevalec dogajanja. Podeželsko prebivalstvo odhaja v mesta, tako da rodovno-ljudski repertoar postaja bitno-ljudski. So pa tudi primeri obratne poti, ko migrira urbano prebivalstvo in oblikuje zaprte skupnosti. Tu lahko nekdaj bitno-ljudski repertoar v dveh ali treh generacijah postane rodovno-ljudski. Če primerjamo izvenliturgično in urbanizirano ljudsko glasbo, lahko opazimo podobnosti v vlogi in dinamiki njune spremenljivosti. Njuna kategorizacija v bitno-ljudsko ter s tem njuna upravičenost, nam pomagata sprejeti oba žanra kot enako pomembna in vredna. Pouči nas lahko svetopisemska žaba, ki je okarala kralja Davida, ko se je hvalil s svojimi čudovitimi psalmi: "David! Ne bodi samovšečen, saj jaz pogosteje prepevam pesmi in hvalnice, kot ti." Če upoštevano sporočilo hebrejske prispodobe, morajo torej raziskovalci in ustvarjalci spoštovati vsako zvrst glasbe, ki odraža katerokoli plat človeške duše. Prevod naslova, izvlečka in povzetka Aleš Nagode UDK 78(430.325) "17/18" DOI: 10.4312/mz.50.2.43-51 Helmut Loos Institute of Musicology, Leipzig University Inštitut za muzikologijo, Univerza v Leipzigu Die kunstreligiöse Botschaft der Leipziger Musikwissenschaft im späten 19. und frühen 20. Jahrhundert Umetnostnoreligiozno sporočilo leipziške muzikologije v poznem 19. in zgodnjem 20. stoletju Prejeto: 26. december 2012 Sprejeto: 27. marec 2013 Ključne besede: Kunstreligion, Leipzig, muziko-logija, 19. stoletje, 20. stoletje Izvleček Muzikološka znanost, ki in kakor se je razvijala v Leipzigu, je ključno prispevala k ugledu tega glasbenega mesta po vsej Evropi. V razvoju slednjega se na tragičen način kaže njegova fatalna navezanost na tradicionalno pojmovanje glasbe kot umetnostnoreligiozne vzgojne vrednote. Pomen glasbe kot »resne in svete glasbe« je bil tako znanstveno zagotovljen in to je bistveno pripomoglo k njeni sakralizaciji. Received: 26th December 2012 Accepted: 27th March 2013 Keywords: Kunstreligion, Leipzig, musicology, 19th Century, 20th Century Abstract Musicology that developed in Leipzig played a key role in contributing to the reputation of this city of music throughout Europe. In a tragic way, its development was fatally attached to the traditional idea of music being an established part of artistically religious general education. The importance of music as "serious and holy music" was thus assured, which became an essential factor in its sacralisation. Leipzig ist musikhistorisch ein besonderes Pflaster. Zur Musikstadt wurde sie nicht in den 27 Jahren des Wirkens von Johann Sebastian Bach in ihren Mauern, sondern erst wenig später, als sie sich als Zentrum bürgerlichen Musiklebens profilierte. Die Musikverlage mit ihren Noteneditionen und der Allgemeinen musikalischen Zeitschrift sowie das Gewandhausorchester bildeten die tragenden Institutionen der neuen Musikkultur. Die Universität Leipzig legte die Basis mit einem aufklärerischen Bildungsgedanken- gut. »Treu sich den Künsten weyhn macht unsere Sitten mild und lehrt uns menschlich seyn«.1 So lautet ein verbreitetes Diktum von Christian Fürchtegott Geliert aus seiner Antrittsvorlesung an der Universität Leipzig im Jahre 1744, ein Zitat des römischen Dichters Ovid. Und der Leipziger Theologiestudent Friedrich Gottlieb Klopstock hat später einmal formuliert: „Der Vorzug der Künste vor den Wissenschaften liegt darin, daß sie geeigneter sind, die Menschen moralisch zu machen: sie erniedrigen sich und sind nicht mehr schön, wenn ihnen die moralische Schönheit fehlt."2 Der literarischen Weimarer Klassik stellte Leipzig durch Männer wie Friedrich Rochlitz den Entwurf einer klassischen Musik entgegen, der Literatur und Musik in der bürgerlichen Bewegung Deutschlands zu gleichberechtigten Exponenten ihrer höchsten Ideale wachsen ließ, sie wurden zu moralischen Institutionen, zur Kunstreligion. Diese Bewegung deutscher, bürgerlicher Musik gegen die italienische Hofoper erfasste ganz Europa und war in ihren Anfängen viel stärker gesellschaftspolitisch als national motiviert. Die Musikwissenschaft wurde als wichtiger Exponent dieser Richtung neu erfunden. Neu in der bürgerlichen Musikkultur war zunächst das explosionsartig sich verbreiternde Musikschrifttum in Form von Musikzeitschriften. Sprachliche Erläuterungen und Rezensionen erwiesen sich als äußerst wirkungsvolles Mittel, der Musik als Bildungsgut gesellschaftlich Geltung zu verschaffen. Sei es in einem klassizistischen Sinne, wie sie Friedrich Rochlitz zur Domestizierung des genialisch Unbändigen anwandte,3 sei es im Sinne romantischer Verbrämung, wie es Robert Schumann unternahm,4 die Musik wurde zur Sprache über der Sprache, zum Medium des Absoluten überhöht. Diese Entwicklung ist in erster Linie von Literaten ausgegangen, Jean Paul und E. T. A. Hoffmann gehören zu den tragenden Exponenten, in Leipzig waren es vor allem auch Universitätsangehörige, die sich in dieser Bewegung engagierten. Tradition hatte dies aufgrund von Persönlichkeiten wie Lorenz Mizler (1711-1778) und Johann Adolph Scheibe (1708-1776), trotz oder vielleicht gerade wegen ihrer inhaltlichen Differenzen, ebenso Johann Abraham Birnbaum (1702-1748), Dozent für Rhetorik und machtvoller Verteidiger Johann Sebastian Bachs, Johann Adam Hiller (1728-1804), der bereits 1766 bis 1770 „Wöchentliche Nachrichten und Anmerkungen die Musik betreffend" herausbrachte, und Christian Gottfried Thomas (1748-1806), der zwischen 1798 und 1806 eine „Unpartheiische Kritik der vorzüglichsten zu Leipzig aufgeführten ... Concerte und Opern" veröffentlichte.5 Das Terrain war gut vorbereitet, als Friedrich Rochlitz (1769-1842) die „Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung" 1798 eröffnete. Er selbst wies darauf hin, dass diese Gründung von Gottfried Christoph Härtel (1763-1827) in Leipzig ihren richtigen Verlagsort besitze, 1 Christian Fürchtegott Gellert, Poetologische und Moralische Abhandlungen. Autobiographisches, herausgegeben von Werner Jung, John F. Reynolds, Bernd Witte (Berlin-New York, 1994): „Von dem Einflusse der schönen Wissenschaften auf das Herz und die Sitten. Eine Rede, bey dem Antritte der Profession". - „In tiefer Freundschaft und Verbundenheit". Aus dem Stammbuchsammlung der Universitätsbibliothek Leipzig, hrsg. von Thomas Fuchs und Steffen Hofmann (Leipzig, 2009), 63. 2 Zitiert nach Leo Balet/Eberhard Rebling, Die Verbürgerlichung der Kunst, Literatur und Musik im 18. Jahrhundert (Dresden, 1979), 267. z 3 Martin Geck, „Die Taten der Verehrer", in Martin Geck/Peter Schleuning,„Geschriebenauf Buonaparte". Beethovens„Eroica": Revolution, Reaktion, Rezeption (Reinbek bei Hamburg, 1989), 193-398, hier 216-223. 4 Helmut Loos, „Robert Schumanns kunstreligiöse Sendung", in Robert Schumann. Persönlichkeit, Werk und Wirkung. Bericht über die Internationale Musikwissenschaftliche Konferenz vom 22. bis 24. April 2010 in Leipzig, hrsg. von Helmut Loos (Leipzig, 2011), 354-363. 5 Vgl. dazu uns zum Folgenden Helmut Loos, „Musikwissenschaft an der Universität Leipzig", in 600Jahre Musik an der Universität Leipzig, hrsg. v. Eszter Fontana (Wettin, 2010), 265-284. denn nirgends werde „so viel für das Wissenschaftliche in der Musik gethan" wie hier.6 Die Zeitung erwies sich als sehr erfolgreich, sie erschien in fünfzig Jahrgängen bis 1848 und wurde zur prägenden Musikzeitschrift der bürgerlichen Musikbewegung. Mit ihr hat Rochlitz - nach Wilhelm Seidel - "tief ins Musikleben eingegriffen [...] musikalische Weltgeschichte gemacht. Er hat den modernen Kanon, den ersten wirklich funktionierenden Kanon der musikalischen Kunstgeschichte, begründet und in Geltung gesetzt und alles initiiert, was daraus folgte."7 Als Autoren aus der Universität gewann Rochlitz u. a. den Privatdozenten für Philosophie Christian Friedrich Michaelis (1770-1834) und Amadeus Wendt (1783-1836), seit 1811 Professor der Philosophie. Beide wurden zu wichtigen Vorreitern der bürgerlichen Musikkultur. Unter Wendts Aufsätzen für die „Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung" sticht ein Beitrag aus dem Jahre 1815 „Gedanken über die neuere Tonkunst, und van Beethovens Musik, namentlich dessen Fidelio" besonders hervor. Bereits die Eingangspartie „Höhere Tonkunst" weist diesen Beitrag als Dokument romantischer Musikanschauung aus: „Wenn allen übrigen Künsten etwas vorliegt, was erst durch den Wunderblick des Genius, veredelt und verklärt aus dem Boden der Wirklichkeit gehoben und in das Elysium der Ideen versetzt zu seyn scheint, so scheint die Tonkunst gleichsam in diesem Lande selbst erzeugt, und redet, gleich dem Weltgeist, durch Sturm und Donner, wie durch das sanfte Wehen des Frühlings, und in den flüsternden Aerenbeugen, eine Wundersprache, die nur dem verständlich ist, dem das Gehör nicht eine Fülle äußerer Klänge, sondern das Innere der Welt und die geheimsten Tiefen des Herzens aufschließt, in die kein sterbliches Auge schaut. Der geniale Tonkünstler ist ein Eingeweihter des Himmels; in unsichtbaren Zeichen verkündet er seine Gesichte, hörbar jedem offnen Ohr, doch nicht jedem vernehmlich."8 Wendt legt im Anschluss daran den Vorzug der Instrumentalmusik und die Überlegenheit der deutschen vor der italienischen Musik dar, wobei ihm Beethoven als Vorbild dient. Oft als früher Nationalismus verstanden, erweist sich die ältere Debatte, die Wendt hier aufgreift, von ihrem Ausgang her als Apostrophierung des Vorrangs bürgerlicher Kultur vor der traditionellen Feudalkultur; italienische Musik ist eine Chiffre für die italienische Oper als Musik der Höfe, deutsche Musik für reine Instrumentalmusik als Musik des Bürgertums. Bezeichnend sind vor allem die moralischen Implikationen, die mit dieser Kampagne einhergehen. Die „Höhere Tonkunst" garantiert die moralische Überlegenheit. Gottfried Wilhelm Fink (1783-1846) folgte 1828 auf Rochlitz als Redakteur der „Allgemeinen musikalischen Zeitung", 1834 eröffnete Robert Schumann mit der „Neuen Zeitschrift für Musik" das Konkurrenzunternehmen wieder in Leipzig. Für die Entwicklung der Musikwissenschaft wurde der von Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy 1842 als Thomaskantor nach Leipzig berufene Moritz Hauptmann (1792-1868) wichtig, der als Musiktheoretiker eine herausragende Erscheinung darstellte. 1853 erschien sein Hauptwerk „Die Natur der Harmonik und der Metrik" (wie alle seine Schriften 6 Intelligenz-Blatt zur Allgemeinen musikalischen Zeitung 1 (1798), Nr. 1, Sp. 3. 7 Wilhelm Seidel, „Friedrich Rochlitz. Über die musikgeschichtliche Bedeutung seiner journalistischen Arbeit", in Musik und Bürgerkultur. Leipzigs Aufstieg zur Musikstadt, hrsg. von Stefan Horlitz und Marion Recknagel (Leipzig - Musik und Stadt, Bd. 2) (Leipzig, 2007), 37-41, hier 41. 8 Amadeus Wendt, „Gedanken über die neuere Tonkunst, und van Beethovens Musik, namentlich dessen Fidelio", in Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung 17 (1815): 345-353, 365-372, 381-389, 397-404, 413-420, 429-436. in Leipzig), mit dem er die Theoriediskussion der folgenden Jahrzehnte maßgeblich prägte. Seine Musiktheorie ist keine Handwerkslehre der Komposition, sondern eine hoch spekulative Auseinandersetzung mit akustischen Grundlagen einerseits, die er als natürliche Bildungsgesetze verstand, und Hegelschen Gedankengängen andererseits, die ihm eine dialektische Entwicklung aus einem Grundgedanken vorgaben. Aus den drei von ihm als direkt verständlich aufgefassten Intervallen Oktave, Quint und großer Terz sowie ihrer Entfaltung in einem harmonischen Dualismus entwickelte Hauptmann eine umfassende Theorie, die ihm nicht nur als verpflichtendes musikalisches Kategoriensystem, sondern weit darüber hinaus als Schlüssel der Welterkenntnis erschien und seine feste Überzeugung von der Richtigkeit seiner klassizistischen Musikanschauung begründete. Die moderne Richtung der „Neudeutschen" vertrat in Leipzig Franz Brendel (1811-1868), der 1845 die „Neue Zeitschrift für Musik" von Schumann übernahm.9 Er war mit seinen hegelianischen „Vorlesungen über musikalische Gegenstände" der maßgebende Musikhistoriker am Leipziger Konservatorium.10 Bei Brendel findet sich die nationale Emphase der „deutschen Musik", wie sie bei Wendt formuliert war, zu einer absoluten Dominanz von welthistorischer Dimension überhöht.11 Die Institutionalisierung der Musikwissenschaft an der Universität Leipzig begann mit Hermann Langer (1819-1889), der als Universitätsmusikdirektor Vorlesungen zur Musikgeschichte hielt, und Oskar Paul (1836-1898), der als Musiker sowie studierter Theologe und Philologe die Theorie und Geschichte der Musik lehrte.12 Städtisches Umfeld und die geschilderte Tradition prägten zwei bedeutende Gründungsfiguren der universitären Musikwissenschaft: Hermann Kretzschmar (1848-1924) eher praxisorientiert und Hugo Riemann (1849-1919) eher theoriegerichtet. Im 20. Jahrhundert hat sich Riemann zunehmend stärker Geltung verschafft, während Kretzschmar immer weniger Beachtung gefunden hat. Zunächst allerdings wurde der Kampf um die rechte Lehre mit großer Inbrunst ausgefochten; Hermann Abert verweist in seiner Charakterisierung Kretzschmars auf dessen machtbewusste „Herrenmoral" und berichtet, bei seinem Amtsantritt in Leipzig 1920 eine „sich der Kretzschmarschen mit bewußter Feindschaft entgegenstemmende Riemannsche Tradition" vorgefunden zu haben.13 Kretzschmars praxisorientierte Musikwissenschaft14 war von einem Realismus geprägt, der allen spekulativen Überhöhungen abhold war und sich historischen Kriterien verpflichtet sah. Hugo Riemann dagegen orientierte sich an naturwissenschaftlichen Methoden. Er folgte damit den philosophischen Lehren seines Förderers Rudolf Hermann Lotze (1817-1881), eines Philosophen, der den naturwissenschaftlichen Ansatz eines durchaus 9 Wilhelm Seidel, „Musikalische Publizistik und Kanonbildung. Über Franz Brendels Entwurf einer neuen Musikästhetik", in Musiktheorie 21 (2006): 27-36. 10 Franz Brendel, Geschichte der Musik in Italien, Deutschland und Frankreich von den ersten christlichen Zeiten an bis auf die Gegenwart. 32 Vorlesungen (Leipzig, 1852). 11 Erich Reimer, „Nationalbewustsein und Musikgeschichtsschreibung in Deutschland 1800-1850", in Die Musikforschung 46 (1993): 17-31. 12 Stefan Horlitz, „Oskar Paul. Ein Gelehrtenleben in Leipzig", in Musik und Bürgerkultur. Leipzigs Aufstieg zur Musikstadt, hrsg. von Stefan Horlitz und Marion Recknagel (Leipzig - Musik und Stadt, Bd. 2) (Leipzig, 2007), 365-386. 13 Hermann Abert, Johann Sebastian Bach. Bausteine zu einer Biographie, hrsg. v. Michael Heinemann (Köln, 2008), 39 u. 49. Leider allzu zeittypisch erscheinen die antisemitischen Äußerungen Aberts über jüdische Kollegen (z. B. S. 53f. u. 59f.) in den 1922-1925 niedergeschriebenen Notizen „Aus meinem Leben". 14 Heinz-Dieter Sommer, Praxisorientierte Musikwissenschaft. Studien zu Leben und Werk Hermann Kretzschmars (= Freiburger Schriften zur Musikwissenschaft, Bd. 16) (München-Salzburg, 1985). mechanistischen Naturverständnisses mit der metaphysischen Vorstellung einer Instanz zur Verwirklichung des Weltzwecks verband. Die hatte ihn zu einer Wertlehre geführt, die mit dem Anspruch objektiver „Geltung" die Erkenntnis von Wahrheiten und Werten des Gewissens gewährleistet. Das Ziel, aus Gesetzmäßigkeiten der Natur „naturwissenschaftlich", objektiv gültige Regeln für die Musik abzuleiten, charakterisiert auch das Schaffen Riemanns, seine theoretischen Schriften besaßen für ihn immer Vorrang vor den musikhistorischen. Die Musik, deren Erforschung, ja theoretischer Begründung sich Riemann mit Hingabe widmete, besaß höchste gesellschaftliche Bedeutung zumal in Leipzig, von dem er in seinem Lebenslauf zur Habilitation als einer „musikalischen", ja sogar der „allermusikalischsten Stadt"15 gesprochen hat. Im Umfeld emphatischer Kunstreligion bedurfte dies keiner weiteren Begründung, so dass Riemann diese Wertschätzung als gegeben voraussetzen durfte und nicht selbst begründen musste. Deswegen darf seine meist nüchterne Sprache über diese seinerzeit selbstverständliche Verständnisgrundlage nicht hinwegtäuschen. Sein überreiches Schrifttum schuf Riemann, indem er 18 Stunden pro Tag arbeitete, die meiste Zeit am häuslichen Schreibtisch, den die Familie liebevoll-spöttisch seinen „Altar"16 nannte, was die sakrale Aura seiner Arbeit umschreibt. Für das sakrale Sendungsbewusstsein, mit dem Riemann seine selbstgestellte Aufgabe wahrnahm, spricht auch die Bezeichnung vieler seiner musiktheoretischen Schriften als „Katechismus", die er häufig erst in späteren Auflagen in „Handbuch" umbenannte; und der Begriff „Katechismus" ist als Unterweisung in unbezweifelbaren Grundfragen des Glaubens und Zusammenfassung einer (hier nicht christlichen) Heilslehre ernst zu nehmen. Der Anspruch auf „Gültigkeit" wurde besonders deutlich in der Auseinandersetzung Riemanns mit seinem ehemaligen Schüler Max Reger, der als Leipziger Universitätsmusikdirektor 1907/08 im Verlauf der großen Diskussion um Felix Draesekes (1835-1913) Mahnruf „Die Konfusion in der Musik" Riemann massiv angegriffen und damit den persönlichen Bruch provoziert hat.17 Eine universitäre Karriere hat Riemann nicht gemacht, der Durchbruch zu einem Ordinariat blieb ihm verwehrt. Ob der Grund dafür allerdings persönliche Missachtung und Intrigen waren, wie dies in historischen Darstellungen meist unterstellt wird, oder doch auch ernste sachliche Gründe aufgrund wissenschaftlicher Bedenken gegenüber den spekulativen Theoriebildungen Riemanns eine Rolle gespielt haben, bedarf sicher noch der näheren Untersuchung.18 Angesichts der starken Wirkung, die Riemann in der Geschichte des Faches im 20. Jahrhundert entfaltet hat,19 ist dies bislang nicht ernsthaft in Erwägung gezogen worden. Die Musikwissenschaft hat Riemanns über Deutschland hinaus maßgeblich geprägt. 15 Zitiert nach Wilhelm Seidel, „Hugo Riemann und die Institutionalisierung der Musikwissenschaft in Leipzig", in Musikwissenschaft als Kulturwissenschaft damals und heute. Internationales Symposion (1998) zum Jubiläum der Institutsgründung an der Universität Wien vor 100 Jahren, hrsg. v. Theophil Antonicek und Gernot Gruber (Tutzing, 2005), 187-196, hier 191, Anm. 9. 16 Michael Arntz, Hugo Riemann (1849-1919). Leben, Werk und Wirkung (Köln, 1999), 43. 17 Vgl. „Die Konfusion in der Musik". Felix Draesekes Kampfschrift und ihre Folgen, hrsg. v. Susanne Shigihara (Veröffentlichungen der Internationalen Draeseke-Gesellschaft, Bd. 4) (Bonn, 1990), 245-258, auch 369, Anm. 1. 18 Michael Arntz, „Nehmen Sie Riemann ernst", in Hugo Riemann (1849-1919). Musikwissenschaftler mit Universalanspruch, hrsg. v. Tatjana Böhme-Mehner u. Klaus Mehner (Köln u. a., 2001), 9-16. 19 Hugo Riemann (1849-1919). Musikwissenschaftler mit Universalanspruch, hrsg. von Tatjana Böhme-Mehner und Klaus Mehner (Köln u. a., 2001), passim. Das Selbstverständnis der Leipziger Musikwissenschaft zur Zeit von Kretzschmar und Riemann ist deutlicher noch als aus ihren Schriften in der Person eines ihrer wenig bekannten Kollegen zu erkennen, eines zeittypischen Sonderlings mit Namen Hermann Bernhard Arthur Prüfer (1860-1944). Nachdem er in Heidelberg zum Dr. jur. promoviert worden war, folgte der entsprechende musikwissenschaftliche Abschluss 1890 in Leipzig mit einer Arbeit über „Den außerkirchlichen Kunstgesang in den evangelischen Schulen des 16. Jahrhunderts". In Spezialistenkreisen ist Prüfer bis heute mit der Thematik seiner Habilitation von 1895 über Johann Hermann Schein bekannt, zu der auch Gesamtausgabenbände gehörten.20 1902 wurde Prüfer zum nichtplanmäßigen außerordentlichen Professor für Musikwissenschaft ernannt, seine Antrittsvorlesung über „Johann Sebastian Bach und die Tonkunst des neunzehnten Jahrhunderts" hielt er am 10. Mai 1902 in der Aula der Universität zu Leipzig,21 der er bis zu seiner Emeritierung 1936 treu blieb. Richard Wagner wurde zu einem wichtigen Gegenstand von Prüfers wissenschaftlicher Tätigkeit; für ihn engagierte er sich mit öffentlichen Vorträgen. So sprach er am 10. März 1908 vor der Goethe-Gesellschaft zu Leipzig über „Richard Wagner und Bayreuth",22 lieferte Aufsätze zu den Bayreuther Blättern und schrieb weitere Studien. Eine umfangreiche Sammlung von Vorträgen über die Bayreuther Festspiele „Das Werk von Bayreuth"23 publizierte er 1909, statt einer Neuauflage wurden daraus nach dem Ersten Weltkrieg vier Einzelhefte separat herausgebracht: „Der Ring des Nibelungen und Wagners Weltanschauung" (3. Aufl. Leipzig 1924), „Parsifal und der Kulturgedanke der Regeneration" (Leipzig 1924), „Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg" (Dresden 1922, 3. Aufl. Leipzig 1924) sowie „Tristan und Isolde" (3. Aufl. Bayreuth 1928). Als weitere erklärende Texte zu Person und Werken Wagners erschienen „Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg" (Dresden 1922, 3. Aufl. Leipzig 1924), „Tannhäuser und der Sängerkrieg auf Wartburg" (Bayreuth 1930) und „Einführung in Richard Wagners Lohengrin" (2. Aufl. Bayreuth 1937). Im Umfeld dieser Kommentare zum Werk Richard Wagners verfasste Prüfer noch weiter gehende Studien wie „Die Geisteswelt Hans von Wolzogens"24 oder „Musik als tönende Faust-Idee (Leipzig 1920) und „Die musikalischen Gestaltungen des Faust" ([Bielefeld u.a.] 1920). Grundlegende Gedanken seiner Forschungen formulierte Prüfer bereits während der Habilitation, in der Antrittsvorlesung beklagt er den schwierigen Stand der Musikwissenschaft als Universitätsfach und drängt - unter Verweis auf Hermann Kretzschmar - auf Abhilfe. Die Begründung ihrer Bedeutung folgt sodann dem Muster, das heute als Fachgeschichte einer „verspäteten" Disziplin durchaus problematisch gesehen wird.25 20 Arthur Prüfer, Johan Herman [sic] Schein (Leipzig, 1895), Reprint Kassel 1989. Werke Scheins hat Prüfer als wissenschaftliche Edition in sieben Bänden Leipzig 1901-1923 veröffentlicht. 21 Sie erschien 1902 für den Druck geändert und erweiter bei Poeschel & Trepte Leipzig. Weitere Publikationen zu Bach: Sebastian Bach als Humorist (Leipzig, 1904). - Zum II. deutschen Bachfest 1.-3 Oktober 1904 (Leipzig, 1904). - „Eine alte, unbekannte Skizze von Sebastian Bachs Leben", in Bach-Jahrbuch 12 (1915): 166-169. 22 Gedruckt bei Wörner Leipzig 1910. 23 1899 zuerst erschienen, 1909 als vollständig umgearbeitete und stark vermehrte Auflage seiner Vorträge über die Bühnenfestspiele in Bayreuth. 24 In Festspielführer der Deutschen Festspiele G. Niehrenheim (Bayreuth, 1926). 25 Musikwissenschaft - eine verspätete Disziplin? Die akademische Musikforschung zwischen Fortschrittsglauben und Modernitätsverweigerung, hrsg. v. Anselm Gerhard (Stuttgart-Weimar, 2000). - Deutsche Meister - böse Geister? Nationale Selbstfindung in der Musik, hrsg. v. Hermann Danuser u. Herfried Münkler (Schliengen, 2001). Prüfer verweist auf die internationale Vernetzung des europäischen Musiklebens und - unter besonderer Akzentuierung der „Musikphilologie" von Hugo Riemann - auf die interdisziplinären Aspekte, denen er große Bedeutung zuschreibt. Doch „die führende Stellung in der gesammten Musikwissenschaft"26 spricht er der Musikgeschichte zu, die im 19. Jahrhundert die „Summe ihrer Forschungsthätigkeit"27 und ihren „Brennpunkt"28 in Johann Sebastian Bach gefunden habe, „in dessen Kunst der seit Jahrhunderten herrschend gewesene Stil der Contrapunktik seine Gipfel erreicht [habe], wie sie andererseits auch in die moderne Periode der harmonischen Musik riesengroß"29 hineinrage. Trotz der Betonung des internationalen Aspekts bleiben es die großen deutschen Komponisten, die Prüfers Blickfeld prägen: Das Engagement für Schein begründet er damit, die „Werke eines der größten Zeitgenossen Heinrich Schützens"30 zu edieren, um durch die Möglichkeit des Vergleichs „einen Beitrag zur Würdigung der Kunst dieses Meisters"31 zu liefern. Die durchaus unhistorische Hierarchisierung der Komponisten32 lässt selbst Beethoven zu einem Garanten der Größe Bachs schrumpfen, der das durch Christian Gottlob Neefe vermittelte „Wohltemperierte Klavier" als „seine musikalische Bibel"33 bezeichnet habe. So stark sich Prüfer für die Pflege alter Musik einsetzt, so sehr beklagt er die Spaltung zwischen alter und neuer Kunst; vehement setzt er sich für das Werk Franz Liszts und insbesondere Richard Wagners ein. Grundlage dafür sind ihm die philosophischen Schriften Arthur Schopenhauers (1788-1860), der die „Tonkunst [...] endlich auf die ihr zukommende, metaphysische Grundlage gestellt"34 habe, und Friedrich von Hauseggers (1837-1899), der „losgelöst von dem öden Formalismus eines Hanslick"35 die „psychologische Methode mit Recht angewandt"36 habe. Daraus leitet Prüfer die Forderung nach einer musikalischen Bildung ab, die es erlaube, Bach als den „gottbegnadeten Tondichter"37 in christlich-protestantischer Tradition zu erkennen, in seiner „Tonsprache den Ausdruck des, zumal in der grossen deutschen Musik eigenthümlichen Erhabenen" zu vernehmen und „das Wesen der Musik, als eine 'Offenbarung des innersten Traumbildes vom Wesen der Welt selbst', als das 'unaussprechliche Geheimnis des Daseins' ahnungslos"38 zu empfinden. Eingebettet in den interdisziplinären Austausch begründet Prüfer die Bedeutung seiner Disziplin unter ausdrücklicher Berufung auf „die Darwinsche Selektionstheorie, die Evolutionstheorie Herbert Spencers"39 letztlich 26 Artur Prüfer, Johann Sebastian Bach und die Tonkunst des neunzehnten Jahrhunderts. Antrittsvorlesung (Leipzig, 1902), 9. 27 Ebd. 28 Ebd. 29 Ebd. 30 Prüfer, Johan Herman [sic] Schein, VII. 31 Ebd. 32 Helmut Loos, „Evangelische Kirchenmusik zwischen Heinrich Schütz und Johann Sebastian Bach. Mitteldeutschland und die „Weltherrschaft" der italienischen Musik Leipzig", in Tagungsbericht„Italien - Mitteldeutschland - Polen", Leipzig 22.-25. Oktober 2008 (in Vorbereitung). 33 Helmut Loos, „Christian Gottlob Neefe. Das Schaffen. Werkverzeichnis", in Christian Gottlob Neefe. Ein sächsischer Komponist wird Beethovens Lehrer. Katalogbuch zur gleichnamigen Ausstellung des Schloßbergmuseums Chemnitz in Zusammenarbeit mit dem Beethoven-Haus Bonn (Chemnitz, 1997), 59-115. 34 Prüfer, Johann Sebastian Bach und die Tonkunst des..., 8. 35 Ebd., 21. 36 Ebd., 8. 37 Ebd., 21. 38 Ebd., 21f. 39 Ebd., 7f. damit, dass „die Musik eines Volkes in noch höherem Grade, als die Sprache, wahrhaftigster Ausdruck seiner jeweiligen Kulturstufe"40 sei. Damit ist die Musik als maßgebliche Instanz des Kulturdarwinismus zugunsten einer umfassenden deutschen Hegemonie installiert. Sie bewährt sich nach Prüfers Worten noch im Ersten Weltkrieg (1916): „Würdig ihrer Bedeutung als Abbild der Welt, wie sie Arthur Schopenhauer ihr zutiefst zuspricht, offenbart sie jetzt gerade die gewaltige Erregung, von der zumal die deutsche Volksseele daheim und draußen erfüllt ist."41 Die publizistische Arbeit für Bayreuth erweist sich somit als eine inhaltliche Übereinstimmung mit der dort verbreiteten germanisch-christlichen Heilslehre.42 In der Universität Leipzig wurde dies durchaus kritisch gesehen, nach Abert genoss Prüfer den Ruf eines „gänzlich vernagelten Wagnerianers".43 Vor diesem Hintergrund sind auch andere wichtige Musikwissenschaftler zu sehen, die in Leipzig gearbeitet haben. Hermann Abert (1871-1927) folgte als Nachfolger Riemanns aufgrund der Einrichtung eines Ordinariats 1920 dem Ruf an die Universität Leipzig, blieb aber nur zwei Jahre bis zur Berufung nach Berlin.44 Arnold Schering (1877-1941) war von 1900 bis 1920 in Leipzig tätig, wesentliche Grundzüge seines wissenschaftlichen Oeuvres sind erkennbar von der Stadt geprägt: Seine Forschungen zur Renaissancemusik, zu musikalischen Gattungen wie Instrumentalkonzert und Oratorium, zu musikalischer Bildung und zu Ludwig van Beethoven. Von Anfang an bildete Johann Sebastian Bach einen wesentlichen Ausgangs- und Kernpunkt seines wissenschaftlichen Werks, das letztlich doch in Schopenhauer eine wesentliche Begründung fand.45 Zur vollen Entfaltung gelangte seine Persönlichkeit mit der Übernahme der zentralen musikwissenschaftlichen Position in Berlin in der Nachfolge Kretzschmars und Aberts. Sie erwies sich als fatal, da ganz von der Überzeugung der Überlegenheit und Höherwertigkeit großer Menschen geprägt, einschließlich der eigenen. Bereits 1933 betrieb er die Abberufung Alfred Einsteins als Herausgeber der „Zeitschrift für Musikwissenschaft", da es staatliche Zuwendungen an die „Deutsche Musikgesellschaft" behindere, wenn ein Jude diese prominente Position bekleide. Frühzeitig förderte er die Gleichschaltung der Vereinigung unter dem neuen Namen „Deutsche Gesellschaft für Musikwissenschaft" weiter und sorgte für eine Struktur nach dem Führerprinzip.46 Als Präsident der Gesellschaft sandte Schering am 16. November 1933 ein Treuegelöbnis an den Reichsminister für Volksaufklärung und Propaganda Dr. Joseph Goebbels. Am 28. Januar 1934 hielt er in der Gesellschaft für deutsche Bildung in Berlin einen Vortrag 40 Ebd., 41 Arthur Prüfer, „Weltkrieg und Musik", in Westermanns Monatshefte 60 (1916): 857-863 (Sonderdruck). 42 Vgl. Ernst Hanisch, „Die politisch-ideologische Wirkung und „Verwendung" Wagners", in Richard-Wagner-Handbuch, hrsg. v. Ulrich Müller u. Peter Wapnewski (Stuttgart, 1986), 625-646, hier bes. 632ff. 43 Abert, Johann Sebastian Bach Bausteine zu einer Biographie, S. 46. Aberts Anfrage nach einer Beförderung Prüfers soll der Dekan mit den Worten abgelehnt haben: „dazu hätte die Fakultät zu wenig Geld und zu viel Verstand, der Kollege Prüfer aber zu viel Geld und zu wenig Verstand." 44 Karl Josef Funk, Hermann Abert - Musiker, Musikwissenschaftler, Musikpädagoge (Stuttgart, 1994). - Rudolf Eller, „Musikwissenschaft in Leipzig. Erfahrungen und Beobachtungen", in Berliner Beiträge zur Musikwissenschaft. Beihefte zur Neuen Berlinischen Musikzeitung, Bd. 9, Heft 3 (1994): 14. 45 Arnold Schering, „Zur Grundlegung der musikalischen Hermeneutik", in Zeitschrift für Ästhetik und allgemeine Kunstwissenschaft, hrsg. v.n Max Dessoir, Bd. 9, Heft 2 (1914): 168-175, hier 171. 46 Pamela M. Potter, Die deutscheste der Künste. Musikwissenschaft und Gesellschaft von der Weimarer Republik bis zum Ende des Dritten Reichs (Stuttgart, 2000), 97f. über „Das Germanische in der deutschen Musik"47 und in seinen methodisch höchst umstrittenen Beethoven-Deutungen sind Ergebenheitsadressen an Adolf Hitler und das „Dritte Reich" enthalten.48 Ein unrühmliches Nachspiel fand diese Denkrichtung in Leipzig zu DDR-Zeiten in der Persönlichkeit des „Herrenmenschen" Heinrich Besseler (1900-1969), und auch das Werk von Hans Heinrich Eggebrecht muss sich nicht erst seit den Enthüllungen der letzten Jahre49 entsprechenden Nachfragen stellen.50 Auf eine tragische Weise zeigt sich an dieser Entwicklung der Leipziger Musikwissenschaft eine fatale Traditionslinie der Musik als kunstreligiöses Bildungsgut. Eine besondere Verantwortung betrifft das Fach insofern, als Wissenschaft nach traditioneller Auffassung gesichertes Wissen und Allgemeingültigkeit seiner Aussagen zu vermitteln beansprucht. Auf geschichtsphilosophischer Grundlage sind unzählige Entwürfe in diesem Sinne vertreten worden, ohne dafür eine wirkliche sachliche Begründung aufweisen zu können.51 Die progressive bürgerliche Musikkultur war dabei dem Säkularisierungstheorem derart verbunden, dass der Fortschritt der Gesellschaft sich am Ausscheiden traditioneller Religionen aus dem gesellschaftlichen Leben messen lasse. Die Bedeutung der Tonkunst als „ernste und heilige Musik" galt dagegen als wissenschaftlich abgesichert, und dies trug wesentlich zu ihrer Sakralisierung bei. POVZETEK K evropskemu slovesu Leipziga je pomembno pripomogla tudi domača muzikološka znanost. Meščanska glasbena kultura, ki je v njem dobila pomembno središče, je bila utemeljena tudi z delovanjem muzikologov, kot so bili Hermann Kretsch-mar in Hugo Riemann. Njihov kolega Arthur Prüfer je v svojih spisih pokazal, da je njen temelj slonel nenazadnje na kulturnem darwinizmu, ki je izhajal iz ideje izpopolnjevanja z izobraževanjem. V razvoju leipziške muzikologije se na tragičen način odraža smer razvoja, ki v glasbi vidi podlago za religijo umetnosti. Posebna odgovornost pripada muzikologiji zato, ker naj bi - po tradicionalnem prepričanju - kot znanost posredovala zanesljivo vedenje in splošno veljavne sodbe. Na tej zgodo-vinskofilozofski podlagi so bile oblikovane tovrstne različne sheme, ki pa niso imele podlage v stvarnih dejstvih. Napredna meščanska kultura je bila vedno povezana s predpostavko, da se lahko naprednost družbe meri s obsegom izločitve tradicionalnih religij iz družbenega življenja. Pomen glasbene umetnosti kot »prave in svete glasbe« je nasprotno veljal za znanstveno utemeljenega in je pomembno prispeval k procesu sekularizacije. Angleški prevod izvlečka / abstract translated to English by Andrej Rijavec. Slovenski prevod naslova, izvlečka in povzetka Aleš Nagode. 47 Fred K. Prieberg, Handbuch Deutsche Musiker 1933-1945, CD-ROM Version 2004, S. 6085. 48 Heribert Schröder, „Beethoven im Dritten Reich. Eine Materialsammlung", in Beethoven und die Nachwelt. Materialien zur Wirkungsgeschichte Beethovens, hrsg. von Helmut Loos (Bonn: 1986), 187-221, hier 196. 49 Boris von Haken, „Dokumentation eines Vortrags", gehalten am 17. September 2009 bei der Jahrestagung der Gesellschaft für Musikforschung in Tübingen. Holocaust und Musikwissenschaft. Zur Biographie von Hans Heinrich Eggebrecht, in Archiv für Musikwissenschaft 67 (2010): 146-163. 50 Vladimir Karbusicky, Wie deutsch ist das Abendland? Geschichtliches Sendungsbewußtsein im Spiegel der Musik (Hamburg, 1995). 51 Frank Hentschel, Bürgerliche Ideologie und Musik. Politik der Musikgeschichteschreibung in Deutschland 1776- 1871 (Frankfurt a. M.-New York, 2006). UDK 78:929Scelsi G. DOI: 10.4312/mz.50.2.53-62 Elfride Reissig Kunstuniversität, Graz Univerza za umetnost, Gradec ,Die Dinge stets sich selbst folgen lassen' *- Klang und Perzeption bei Giacinto Scelsi Pustiti, da stvari sledijo same sebi.": Zvok in percepcija pri Giacintu Scelsiju Prejeto: 31. december 2012 Sprejeto: 27. marec 2013 Ključne besede: Giacinto Scelsi, percepcija, improvizacija, zvok, vzhodna filozofija Izvleček »Glasba ne more obstajati brez zvoka, zvok lahko obstaja brez glasbe, zato je zvok pomembnejši od glasbe.« Šifra, s katero je Giacinto Scelsi orisal koz-mos zvoka v enem samem tonu, odpira z improvizacijo ustvarjalnosti nov prostor onkraj območja moči in nadzora. Zvok sam s tem postane misterij. Received: 31st December 2012 Accepted: 27th March 2013 Keywords: Giacinto Scelsi, perception, improvisation, sound, Eastern philosophy Abstract "Music cannot exist without sound, sound can exist without music, therefore sound is more important than music", Giacinto Scelsi's cipher for the cosmos of sound of the single-note, opens a creative space beyond expansion of power and control by improvising and therefore sound itself becomes the mystery. Im Alten Testament sagt Gott nichts, es sind die Lebenden, die ihm als Vokabel dienen. In diesem Sinn habe ich nie aufgehört, das in der Welt vorhandene Heilige zu lieben. Albert Camus Der italienische Komponist Giacinto Scelsi2 stand im 20. Jahrhundert mit seinem außergewöhnlichen Werk in Europa außerhalb des Mainstream: Laozi, Daodejing. Eine Wiedergabe seines Deutungsspektrums. [51] Bd. 1, Viktor Kalike (Hg.), Leipzig, 2009, S. 72. Sein vollständiger Name lautete Conte Giacinto Francesco Maria Scelsi d'Ayala Valva, geboren in La Spezia am 8.1.1905, gestorben in Rom am 9.8.1988. „Isolation und Krankheit nach einem schweren mentalen Zusammenbruch transformierten seinen Individualismus (...) zu einer noch unbeirrbareren Reise in das Herz des Klanges. In einer Art selbsterfundener Rehabilitation verbrachte er Stunden am Klavier, improvisierte über einen einzelnen Ton und tauchte dabei in die Einzigartigkeit dieses Klangs ein. Diese Erfahrung wurde für ihn zur Basis seiner späteren reifen Kompositionen."3 Kaum eindringlicher lassen sich die biographischen Stationen Scelsis schildern, als es die Violinistin Barbara Lüneburg im Text zu ihrer Aufnahme mit dem Titel „Beyond. Jenseits" mit Werken für Solo-Violine von Johann Sebastian Bach und Werken von Gia-cinto Scelsi4 beschreibt und damit zwei Oeuvres auf einem Tonträger vereint, welche auf den ersten Blick unterschiedlicher nicht sein können und darüber hinaus mehr als drei Jahrhunderte im Zeitraum ihres Entstehens voneinander getrennt, entstanden sind. Und doch verband sie in ihren Intentionen Maßgebliches. Lüneburg führt weiter aus: „Parallel zu seiner Reise ins Innere des Tons begann Scelsi ein quasi archäologischspirituelles Suchen innerhalb der Mythologie und den Religionen des Alten Griechenlands, Ägyptens und des Fernen Ostens, war in höchstem Grade beeindruckt vom Instrumentarium, der Art und Weise schriftloser Musiktradierung und Traditionen und fand so zu seinem ganz eigenen Orientalismus. Seine Bezugspunkte wurden dabei von ihm ebenso frei kombiniert und tiefgehend erforscht wie ebenjene einzelnen Töne auf dem Klavier. Die Reise ins Spirituelle übertrug er auf eine fast rituelle Auslotung musikalischer Tiefen, die Scelsi - nach Tonhöhe und Dauer - die „dritte Dimension" des Klanges nannte. Er suchte nach dem Klang hinter dem Klang, seiner Bewegung, dessen inneren Leben, der sich für ihn in akustischen Phänomenen wie Interferenz, Ober- oder Untertönten und Timbreschattierungen manifestierte."5 So sind es vor allem jene Instrumente, die Mikrotöne erzeugen können, wie Streich-und Blasinstrumente, aber auch die menschliche Stimme, die sich als ideales „Medium für Scelsis Klangvorstellung erwies: mit ihrem Farbenreichtum, ihrer Möglichkeiten Töne beliebig lange zu halten und über alle Saiten hinweg in feinste Mikrotonabstufungen zu gehen, erlaubten sie ihm in den Klang vorzudringen"6. Beide wurden durch äußere Schicksalsschläge7 zu einer „tief spirituellen Musik angeregt"8 und „[i]n diesem Licht betrachtet erlagt Bachs Musik eine tiefe mystische Dimension, wenn sie auch weniger offen zutage liegt als bei Scelsi. In gewissem Sinne geht es (...) immer um An- und Abwesenheiten, und die Musik greift - wie auch bei Scelsi - nach dem, was jenseits liegt".9 3 Lüneburg Barbara, Tim Rutherford-Johnson, Beyond Jenseits. Booklet, CD COV 61302, Darmstadt 2013, 3. 4 J. S. Bach: Partita in D-moll, G. Scelsi: L'Ame aillée (1973), Xynobis (1964). 5 Lüneburg Barbara, Tim Rutherford-Johnson, Beyond Jenseits. Booklet, CD COV 61302, Darmstadt 2013, 3. 6 Ibid. 7 "Bach hatte die Partita in Gedenken an seine erste Frau Maria Barbara geschrieben, (...) die 1720 gestorben war". In: Lüneburg, Rutherford-Johnson, Beyond Jenseits, 4. 8 Ibid., 5. 9 Ibid., 5. Scelsi selbst thematisiert in seinen musikphilosophischen Reflexionen10, das Verhältnis Klang und Musik: „Die Musik kann nicht ohne den Klang existieren, der Klang jedoch ohne die Musik; folglich ist der Klang wichtiger als die Musik."11 Das Übergeordnete des Klangs über der Musik und Scelsis Überzeugung „Klang und Kosmos befinden sich in ständiger Vibration und Resonanz"12, bestimmten ab den frühen fünfziger Jahren Scelsis künstlerisches Werk. Zu den Begriffen: Begeben wir uns erst auf die Spur einer Differenzierung und Feinstimmung der durch das Thema vorgegebenen Begriffe des „Heiligen" und des „Profanen" auch aus etymologischer Sicht, so erweist sich, dass das Adjektiv „heilig", mittelhochdeutsch heilec, heilic, althochdeutsch heil, heilag altsächsisch helag, germanisch hailaga- Adj. „heilig, mit Heil versehen", auch in altenglisch hälzg, seine Zugehörigkeit zum Substantiv „Heil" bildet. Dieses Substantiv „Heil" ist jedoch nicht eine einfache Substantivierung und unter Umständen etymologisch mit dem Adjektiv „heil" gar nicht verwandt. Das Adjektiv „heil", mittelhochdeutsch „heil", bedeutet ,heil, ganz, gesund'. Diesem am nächsten steht das altkirchenslawische „cëlû" und bedeutet „gesund, ganz, unversehrt".13 Das Adjektiv „profan" bedeutet „weltlich, alltäglich". Entlehnt aus dem Lateinischen profänus, eigentlich „vor dem heiligen Bezirk liegend", pro, zu, lat. Fänum „ein heiliger, der Gottheit geweihter Ort".14 Die Deutung der Begriffe „das Heilige" als „Ganzheitlichkeit, Ganzheit" und „profan" als den „Zutritt und Übergang zum heiligen Ort", läge nun beim Komponisten' Giacinto Scelsi nahe, zumal Scelsi „sich selbst nicht als Komponist (von componere=zusammenfügen) bezeichnen wollte. Seine Musik hebt sich gewissermaßen über das Artefaktische hinweg, sie erscheint weniger als etwas ,Gemachtes', als vielmehr als etwas, das sich ereignet. Mitunter hat man als Hörer den Eindruck, sie entstehe gewissermaßen aus sich selbst heraus".15 Scelsi ging „in Europa einen außereuropäischen Weg"16 und besonders die Überlieferungssituation schriftloser Musiktradierungen17 entsprachen ganz seiner Auffassung ein 10 Giacinto Scelsi, Les anges sont ailleurs... . Textes et inédits et commentés par Sharon Kanach. Bd. 1, Actes Sud, 2006; Giacinto Scelsi, L'homme du son. Sharon Kanach, Hg., Bd. 2, o. A., Actes sud 2006, Giacinto Scelsi, Il sogno 101, (Hg.) Luciano Martinis und Alessandra Carlotta Pellegrini, Macerata 2010, Actes Sud, 2006. Das Archiv der Fondazione Isabella Scelsi steht seit Mai 2009 einer interessierten Öffentlichkeit zur Verfügung. 11 Giacinto Scelsi, Les anges sont ailleurs, 125. 12 Ibid., 127. (Übers. d. d. Autorin). 13 Kluge, Etymologisches Wörterbuch der deutschen Sprache, beab. Elmar Seebold (Berlin, Boston, 2011), 404. 14 Kluge, Etymologisches Wörterbuch der.., 724. 15 Robert Jungwirth, Im Inneren der Klänge, http://www.klassikinfo.de/Kontinent-Scelsi.287.0html. Recherchiert 1. 11. 2013. 16 Stiebler, Ernstalbrecht, Einsam zwischen den Welten, MusikTexte (Köln, 1988), 25. 17 „Dieser kulturellen Tradition und Erinnerungsform entspricht ein zyklisches Zeitgefühl. Die Zeit wird nicht fortschreitend, sondern als ewige Wiederholung begriffen; in den Festen und Ritualen wird das Wiederkehrende betont. In den Schriftkulturen des Alphabets hingegen löst ein Denken in fortlaufender (,linearer') Zeit das zyklische Zeitdenken ab. Es entsteht das Bedürfnis, das alte Wissen durch neues Wissen zu ersetzten. Diesem Umstand verdankt das Abendland seinen Glauben an den ,Fortschritt' und seine ,Neu-Gier': die Überzeugung, dass das Neue immer besser ist als das Alte." Inge Stephan u. Christina von Braun, „Einleitung", in Genderstudien. Eine Einführung, Hrsg., Christina von Braun u. Inge Stephan Stuttgart (Weimar (Metzler), 2000), 21. kreatives Werk direkt und unmittelbar, also nicht über den Weg der Schrift, zu schaffen. Zu Scelsis Alltag und Lebensweise in seinem Haus in der Via di San Teodoro in Rom, gehörten tägliche Yogaübungen, Meditationen über mehrere Stunden als Vorbereitung für seine Improvisationen'18 auf seinen Ondiolen, (frühe elektronische Tasteninstrumente), Gitarre, Blasinstrumenten aus Indien u. Tibet, u. a. m., zum Tagesablauf. Er nahm diese Klänge auf Tonband auf, traf daraufhin die Entscheidung, welche Teile aus dem aufgezeichneten akustischen Material er für ein Werk vorsah und ließ diese anschließend von Profimusikern transkribieren19. Dass Scelsi der Zugang zum europäischen, akademischen (Konzert- und Aufführungs-)Betrieb der Avant-Garde im 20. Jahrhundert lange Zeit verwehrt war, steht mit dieser Art der Werkgenese außer Frage. Trotzdem war Scelsi mit Komponisten und InterpretInnen wie der Japanerin und wichtigsten Interpretin von Scelsis Vokalwerken, Michiko Hirayama, mit John Cage, dem indische Sitar-Virtuosen Ravi Shankar um nur einige zu nennen, eng befreundet und stand mit ihnen in regem Austausch. Gemeinsam war diesen KünstlerInnenpersönlichkeiten, dass auch sie besonders von östlichen Philosophien und Weltanschauungen geprägt waren oder darin aufgewachsen und sozialisiert waren. Zentral bei allen ist, dass sich diese Inhalte bis in ihr künstlerisch-kreatives Schaffen konsequent fortsetzten. Die Asienrezeption der Komponisten Karlheinz Stockhausen und John Cage ist bekannt, „Stockhausens Japan-Aufenthalt 1966 und die daran anschließende Asien-Reise, John Cages Beschäftigung mit asiatischer Philosophie20 ist dokumentiert und belegt.21 Die Akzeptanz östlicher Philosophien und Weltanschauungen war in den USA jedoch wesentlich höher als in Europa und ihre Anfänge liegen bereits im 19. Jahrhundert22. Helga de La Motte-Haber zeigt am Beispiel der Entwicklung der Aleatorik, dass die neuen Kompositionskonzepte bei John Cage auch auf Grund neuer Bezugssysteme und Philosophien Asiens begründeten und entstanden sind: Der Zufall hat für die amerikanische Musik eine andere Bedeutung. Er wurde von den steuernden Impulsen eines Individuums, die ihn eigentlich in sein Gegenteil verkehrten, befreit. Er wurde befreit von Psychologie. Als John Cage 1952 in der Music of Changes den Zufall zum ersten Mal spielen ließ, vertraute er auf etwas außerhalb seiner subjektiven Intention Liegendes, er überließ die Entscheidungen über Zusammenklänge, indem er das I Ging zu Rate zog, externen Techniken und versuchte nicht, den Zufall in freien Assoziationen aus seinem eigenen Inneren aufsteigen zu lassen. Das Vertrauen auf ein Prinzip, das der menschlichen Vernunft entzogen ist, basiert auf einer von den europäischen Vorstellungen verschiedenen amerikanischen Tradition, in der der Mensch als Teil des Universums Natur begriffen wurde. Diese Idee 18 Die Begriffe Improvisation', ,Komposition', ,Komponist', sind in Verbindung mit Scelsi unter Anführungszeichen gesetzt, da sich bei ihm der Konnotationsraum erheblich erweitert. 19 Erst im Eigenverlag, ab den frühen siebziger Jahren verlegte der französische Salabert Verlag Scelsis Werke. 20 Christian Utz, Neue Musik und Interkulturalität (Wien, 2002). 21 Ursula Baats, „Resonanz des weißen Unbewegten - Die Asienrezeption bei Giacinto Scelsi", Vortrag im Symposion „Giacinto Scelsi: Ästhetische Dimension und kompositorischer Prozess"von 21.-23.1. 2012 am Institut für Musikästhetik der Kunstuniversität Graz. 22 Erstes Weltparlament der Religionen in Chicago/USA im September 1883. http://de.wikipedia.org/wiki/Weltparlament_der_Re-ligionen. Recherchiert am 1. 11. 2013. einer Verbundenheit mit einer umfassenderen Ganzheit wurde im 19. Jahrhundert von den amerikanischen Transzendentalisten entwickelt und ließ sich, wie der Einfluss östlicher Philosophien zeigt, (...) mit der Annahme einer All-Seele verbinden.23 Dieses „Vertrauen auf etwas außerhalb seiner subjektiven Intention Liegendes"24 bedeutete für die Arbeitsweise Scelsis, dass er sich, keinesfalls endsubjektivierend, bzw. „durch Tilgung jeglichen subjektiven Ausdrucks"25 aus dem Klanggeschehen herausnahm, sondern nicht mehr mit dem ,Denken' identifizierend, vom „Gedankenlärm" in einer Meditationen auf sein improvisieren' vorbereitete und solcherart konzentriert und fokussiert am Instrument (Ondiola z. B.) den mikrotonalen Bewegungen des Klangs nachspürte. Eine Entsprechung für seine Klangvorstellung fand er beim amerikanischen Komponisten und Maler Dane Rudhyar26, der konstatierte, „der innere Raum innerhalb des Tones selbst ist differenzierbar in vielerlei Arten, gemäß seiner zahlreichen Proportionen"27. Scelsi stellte mit seiner von östlichen Philosophien geprägten Klangvorstellung von der Einheit von Welt und Kosmos, einen existentiell-metaphorischen Zusammenhang zwischen den „Vibrationen des Klangs in Verbindung mit dem Göttlichen"28 her, beides steht in ständiger gegenseitiger Resonanz, als wellenartige „Bewegung des Unbewegten", jener „Chiffre Scelsis für die Dimension von Transzendenz"29. In seinen Worten: „Le Son est le premier mouvement de l'Immobile" 30 (Der Klang ist die erste Bewegung des Unbewegten, Übers. d. d. Autorin). In seinem Essay „Son etMusique" spricht Scelsi vom „le Yoga du Son, '61 (das Yoga des Klangs), denn „der Klang ist der Ursprung des Kosmos. Das Wort, die Sprache bringen das Universum hervor"32, Scelsi führt dazu aus, dass für ihn „der Großteil der Inspirationen' [das ,Einhauchen'] immer im Kontakt mit dem Kosmos entsteht, nicht mehr, aber auch nicht weniger"33. Denn „in Indien ist der Klang der Ursprung des Kosmos. Das Wort, die Sprache bringt das Universum hervor". Besonders die menschliche Stimme war für Scelsi damit eine Trägerinnen des „wahren Klangs" („son juste" Übersetzung d. d. Autorin), der sich über die monodische mensch- 23 Helga de la Motte-Haber, „Musik als „innerweltliche Erlösung". Zum Wandel des Transzendenzbegriffes in den letzten zweihundert Jahren", in Entgrenzungen in der Musik, Hrsg., Otto Kolleritsch, Studien zur Wertungsforschung Bd. 18 (Wien, Graz, 1987), 47. 24 Helga de la Motte-Haber, Musik als „innerweltliche Erlösung ", 47. 25 Helga de la Motte-Haber, Musik als „innerweltliche Erlösung ", 47. 26 Der amerikanische Komponist, Maler und Philosoph Dane Rudhyar (1895-1985) war besonders von den hinduistischen Musiktraditionen, sowie dem Werk Rudolf Steiners beeinflusst. Rudhyars Schriften über den Klang waren für Giacinto Scelsi und sein Werk von großer Bedeutung. 27 Dane Rudhyar, „The Rebirth of Hindu Music", [1928], 65, in Deniz Ertan, Dane Rudhyar. His Music, Thought and Art (Rochester, USA, 2009). Zit. nach: Gregory Reish, The transformation of Giacinto Scelsis musical Style and Aesthetics, 1929-1959. Dissertation, University of Georgia, 2001, 112.(Übersetzung d. d. Autorin). Am Anfang der 1970 Jahre, werden die SpektralistInnen diese Klangvorstellungen Scelsis aufgreifen und nicht zuletzt durch ihn die ,Musique Spectral' daraus entwickeln. (Tristan Murail war in Rom oftmals bei Scelsi und gründete darauf sein Ensemble L'Itinéraire in Paris). Zitiert nach: Thierry Alla, Scelsi/Murail - ondes croisées, in: Giacinto Scelsi aujourd'hui, Hrsg., Pierre-Albert Castanet, Paris, 2008, 323. 28 Scelsi, Giacinto, „Son et musique ", 129, (Übers. d. d. Autorin). 29 Ursula Baats, „Resonanz des weißen Unbewegten ...". 30 Scelsi, Giacinto, „Son et musique", in Scelsi, Giacinto, Les anges sont ailleurs... . Textes et inédits recueillés et commentés par Sharon Kanach, (o. A.) 2006, 128. 31 Scelsi, Giacinto, „Son et musique",129, (Übers. d. d. Autorin). 32 Ibid.,128. (Übers. d. d. Autorin). 33 Ibid., 135. (Übers. d. d. Autorin). liche Stimme oder über ein einzelnes Instrument besser ausdrücken kann, als über das Orchester- oder symphonische Werk."34 Träger und „verbindendes Medium" war folglich der Atem. Im Bewegungsgestus des Ein- und Ausatmens, jenem ,spiro' erschließt sich damit auch eine direkte körperliche Dimension der Klangempfindung über die Sinneswahrnehmung mit dem Potential, dass „eine wertungsfreie Beziehung zum Klang"35 wirksam wird, darin sich ein kreativer Raum öffnet und mit ihm ein Spannungszustand ,erzeugt' werden kann, der diesen Raum, offenzuhalten vermag. Die Konsequenzen die Scelsi für die Bedeutung musikalischer Parameter zieht, fasst er in seinen Essay „Sens de la musique"36: „[I]n der Beschreibung der vier Grundelemente Rhythmus, Affektivität, Intellekt und Psyche, gleichbedeutend mit Rhythmus, Melodik, Harmonik und Formbau - (...) mehrfach der Begriff einer transzendierenden magischen Kraft wieder[kehrt], (...) ,Ich würde sagen (...), dass der Mensch durch den Rhythmus am Leben des Weltalls teilnimmt, welches Schwingung des Grundimpulses ist, des Lebensdrangs, der Dauer. Durch die Gemütserregung erlebt er die Leidenschaft, die auf kosmische Weise durch ihn hindurchgeht, mit der Affektivität hängen seine Freuden und Leiden zusammen, (...). Durch sein Seelenleben tritt der Mensch aus der individuellen Zeit heraus und gelangt zur absoluten Zeit, zur Ewigkeit."37 Der kreative Raum einer „nicht instrumentalisierte[n], sondern gelöste[n] Qualität von Freiheit"38, jenseits eines Machtanspruchs, könnte auch Scelsis Verständnis von Spiritualität39 näher bezeichnen und darüber hinaus jenes der Mystik, die für ihn eine übergeordnete Kategorie über die Religion darstellt, nach der Entsprechung zu „Klang und Musik": "La musique a besoin du Son, il me semble l'avoir déjà dit, mais le Son peut exister sans la musique. La religion a besoin de la Mystique; mais la Mystique peut exister sans la Religion."40 [„Die Musik braucht den Klang, mir scheint, das habe ich schon gesagt, aber der Klang kann ohne die Musik existieren. Die Religion braucht die Mystik, aber die Mystik kann ohne die Religion existieren." (Übers. d. d. Autorin)] 34 „In Indien ist der Klang der Ursprung des Kosmos. Das Wort, die Sprache bringt das Universum hervor", so Scelsi in seinem Essay. Die menschliche Stimme oder ein einzelnes Instrument waren für Scelsi die Trägerinnen des „wahrhaftigen Klangs" (Son „juste") und weiter: „deshalb denke ich, dass die Monodie diese Wahrhaftigkeit des Klangs („justesse") leichter vermitteln kann als ein Orchester- oder symphonisches Werk". (Übers. d. d. Autorin). Giacinto Scelsi, „Son et musique", 129. 35 Ulrike Sowodniok, Stimmklang und Freiheit, Zur auditiven Wissenschaft des Körpers (Transcript-Verlag Bielefeld, 20113), 167. 36 Giacinto Scelsi, Sens de la musique, in Scelsi, Giacinto, Les anges sont ailleurs... . Textes et inédits recueilles et commentés par Sharon Kanach , 87. Zit. nach: Hubert Stuppner, „Giacinto Scelsi, ein aristokratischer Einzelgänger", in Brennpunkt Nono. Programmheft der Salzburger Festspiele Zeifluss Festival "93, Hg., Josef Häusler, 32. 37 Hubert Stuppner, Giacinto Scelsi, ein aristokratischer Einzelgänger, 32. 38 Ulrike Sowodniok, Stimmklang und Freiheit, 201. 39 Eine eingehende Definition des Begriffs „Spiritualität" findet sich bei Marcel Cobussen: Thresholds: Rethinking Spirituality Through Music (Hampshire, 2008), 44ff. 40 Giacinto Scelsi, [Force Cosmique Du Son], (eckige Klammer d. d. Herausgeberin Sharon Kanach) in: G. Scelsi, Les anges sont ailleurs, 153. Das ,Denken in und über Musik', bedarf ebenso einer näheren Definition und Johannes Menke stellt diese seinen Analysen der beiden Werke Konx-Om-Pax bzw. Tre canti sacri, zum grundsätzlichen Verständnis von Rationalität bei Scelsi, voran: „Nicht denken" - heißt es im Octologo, jenem künstlerischen und weltanschaulichen Credo Scelsis und weiter „lass diejenigen denken / die es nötig haben / zu denken"41. Zunächst scheint es, als handle es sich hier um die snobistische Äußerung eines Aristokraten, die man entweder von sich weist oder aber nicht ernst nimmt. Es ist aber noch eine zweite Lesart denkbar: gemeint ist vielleicht nicht die Ablehnung von Denken im Sinne von Verstandestätigkeit überhaupt, sondern die Ablehnung einer bestimmten Art von Rationalität. Die erhellt sich beim achten Satz des Octologo: „Verringert nicht/den Sinn dessen/ was ihr nicht versteht". Genau das wäre einer falschen' Rationalität anzulasten: dass sie den Sinn der Wirklichkeit verringert, weil sie nicht wahrhaben will, dass es Dinge gibt, die sich ihrem Zugriff entziehen. Scelsi wehrt sich also gegen eine Rationalität, die auf Machtexpansion aus ist, gegen eine Rationalität, die sich die gesamte Lebenswirklichkeit unterwerfen will, die, hierarchisch, bifurkativ und dichotomisch, den Anspruch erhebt, Welt erklären und beherrschen zu können."42 Von großer Aussagekraft ist hier, die „Selbstbeschränkung von Rationalität (...) als operative Funktion"43, dem einher ginge damit auch ein bewusster Verzicht auf Macht und Kontrolle während des kreativen Prozesses zugunsten einer konzentrierten Perzep-tionssituation um in das Innere des Klangs zu gelangen, aber auch um Inhalte, Codes und Kontexte abendländischer Musiktraditionen zu erweitern und ihnen am Beispiel des Werks Scelsis gänzlich neue Ebenen auch in der Rezeption als bisher noch unerhörte „Obertöne" in der Musik zu erschließen. Im Orchesterwerk mit christlich-abendländischen Bezügen Konx-Om-Pax für gemischten Chor, Orgel und Orchester, mit drei formalen Teilen: „Drei Aspekte des Klangs: als ,erste Bewegung des Unbeweglichen', als kreative Kraft, als die Silbe Om, die die unpersönliche Wahrheit bedeutet" (1969; UA, Venedig, 1970), „liegt der Gedanke nahe, die drei Stücke auf entscheidende Glaubensmysterien zu beziehen, die mit seiner [Jesus Christus] Person verknüpft sind."44 Scelsi verwendet darin zwar lateinische Texte45, jedoch folgt er weder bei liturgischen Abläufen streng den textlichen Quellen. Die Schlüsse die Johannes Menke zieht sind dazu äußerst aufschlussreich, denn „[d]ieser konkrete Bezug zum spezifisch christlichen Verständnis kann nicht ausgeschlossen werden, er ist naheliegend, nicht zwingend", dazu merkt Menke weiter an: 41 Zit. nach: Anderson, Verhaltensnormen, Regeln und Räume, 1999, 47 (Fußnote). Zitiert nach: Johannes Menke, Pax. Analyse bei Giacinto Scelsi: Tre canti sacri und Konx-Om-Pax, Sinefonia Bd. 1, Hofheim (2004): 13. 42 Menke, Pax. Analyse bei..., 13. 43 Ibid.. 44 Menke, Pax. Analyse bei . , 33. 45 Aufzählung und Zuordnung bei Johannes Menke, Pax. Analyse bei Giacinto Scelsi, S. 33: I. Angelus Domini nuntiavit Mariae, concepit de spiritu sancto. Verkündigung/Geburt/Inkarnation. Gestus: Erzählung. II. Requiem aeternam dona eis Domine. Tod/Fürbitte/Hoffnung auf ewige[s? sic!] Leben. Gestus: Bitte III. Gloria in excelsis Deo et in terra pax hominibus nonae voluntatis. Verherrlichung/Friede. Gestus: Lobpreis. „Dies zeigt auch, wie behutsam Scelsi die Texte ausgewählt hat. Sie formulieren allgemeine Aussagen des Christentums, die weder konfessionell noch dogmatisch eindeutig fixiert sind, ohne dass eine solche Fixierung ausgeschlossen wäre. Scelsi nimmt auch hier die Position der Mitte ein, er fungiert als Vermittler zwischen liturgisch benutzten christlichen Glaubensinhalten und einer allgemein-menschlich verstandenen Religiosität. Die verwendeten Texte können auch im Sinn einer über das Christentum hinausweisenden Spiritualität interpretiert werden. Auch die Wahl der lateinischen Sprache (...), kann im Sinn einer übernational, überkonfessionellen und in gewisser Weise auch zeitübergreifende aufgefasst werden." Das Wort Pax erhält im letzten Teil besondere Bedeutung und Gehalt: „[Scelsi] stellt das Wort PAX ins Zentrum des musikalischen Geschehens. In diesem Wort verdichtet sich der Satz zur Kernaussage. „PAX" stellt indes einen Bezug zu Requiem" des zweiten Stückes her. Friede den Toten (requiem) und Friede den Lebenden „pax". Damit verdichtet sich der Text - wie im Messoffizium - zur abschließenden nachdrücklichen bitte um „pax", in allem Bedeutungsreichtum dieses Worts, wie es das deutsche Wort „ Friede" nur begrenzt hergibt. Die möglichen christlich-dogmatischen Konnotationen treten in den Hintergrund, wenn die finale Ausrichtung des Zyklus in „pax" gipfelt. Aus den kollektiven Bildern der christlichen Tradition tritt das letzte gleichsam nach außen. Auch die Musik scheint in einer einmaligen Geste über sich selbst hinausweisen zu wollen."46 Die Mehrdimensionalität des Werks bei der Wahrnehmung von Musik, Text und Klang, tritt nun durch Mystifizierung der „eigenen" abendländischen Traditionen zu Tage, „handelt [es] sich jedoch nicht um bekenntnishafte geistliche Musik. Scelsi arbeitet mit christlichen Konnotationen, vermeidet jedoch sowohl Bekenntnis als auch Ablehnung. Sein Thema ist die Andeutung von kollektiven Bildern oder Archetypen im Sinne C. G. Jungs"47. Das Werk öffnet den Raum und „die möglichen christlich-dogmatischen Konnotationen treten in den Hintergrund, wenn die finale Ausrichtung des Zyklus in „pax" gipfelt. Aus den kollektiven Bildern der christlichen Tradition tritt das letzte gleichsam nach außen. Auch die Musik scheint in einer einmaligen Geste über sich selbst hinausweisen zu wollen." 48 Christian Utz kommt in seinen Studien zur Wahrnehmung formaler Prozesse in den Werken ,Aintsi (1974) für Klavier mit Verzerrer bzw. dem 5. Streichquartett (1984/85), dem ersten Satz von Konx-Om-Pax (1968), (...) oder Elohim (1965/1967?)"49, durch die „teils ,vektoriell' ausgerichtete[n] Bogenform"50 besonders unter Einbeziehung des originären Tonbandmaterials, welches Johannes Menke für seine Analysen (2004) noch nicht zur Verfügung stand, zu den einzelnen Werken, zum Ergebnis, dass „der rituelle Charakter, der sich in der Bogenform andeutet, aber dort meist von direktionalen Prozessen überlagert wird, (...) sich hier noch elementarer und nachhaltiger [manifestiert]."51 46 Menke, Pax. Analyse bei.., 35. 47 Ibid., 34. 48 Ibid., 35. 49 Christian Utz, „Scelsi hören. Zur Interaktion zwischen Echtzeitwahrnehmung und Formimagination der Musik Giacinto Scelsis", Vortrag beim Symposion „Giacinto Scelsi: Ästhetische Dimension und kompositorischer Prozess" von 21.-23.1. 2012 am Institut für Musikästhetik der Kunstuniversität Graz. 50 Ibid. 51 Ibid. Ritualhafte Formen, insistierenden Klänge, die auch innerhalb ihrer Binnenstruktur, den einzelnen Ton, in mikrotonalen Bewegungen umkreisen, lassen schließlich beim Hören lineare und nicht-lineare Zeitwahrnehmung ineinanderfließen. Scelsi perzeptuiert nun, „den Klang im Einzelton als einen unendlich kleinen Partikel einer zeitlosen, unendlichen, wellenartigen Energie und aus diesem Grund einer grenzenlosen Welt des Klangs. Er versteht die Klangfarbe, Dynamic, mikrotonale Ausbreitung einer einzelnen Note in seinem reifen Werk als Aktivierung': zeitlich, gebundene Projektionen einer nichtzeitlich, unbegrenzten klangliche Realität. Denn die wahre Natur künstlerischen Tuns ist bestimmt von spirituellen und metaphysischen Dimensionen, Scelsis Konzeption des Künstlers und des kreativen Prozesses hatte sich in diesenJahren radikal transformiert. Mehr als nur ein Handwerker zu sein, erscheint der Künstler als jemand, der auch mit mystischer Kraft gesegnet war, dazu imstande eine übergeordnete Realität zu entdecken und diese Erfahrungen über die Kunst auszudrücken."52 Scelsi spricht hier die Funktion des Künstlers/der Künstlerin an, die sich jenseits von Machtanspruch und Kontrolle für den kreativen Prozess, zu öffnen vermögen.53 Ob nun Luigi Nono jener „inneren, geheimeren Welt" in seinem Streichquartett „Fragmente -Stille. An Diotima" des Jahres 1980 auf der Spur war, ob eine Björk unserer Tage von den geheimen, inneren Räumen, den „hidden places" singt, oder ob in Beat Furrers Oper Nuun die Göttin fähig war, die Zeit anzuhalten, genau dort an diesen Brüchen und Zeitbrüchen - ist dieser Raum offen. Fazit Besonders in seiner zweiten Schaffensphase ist Scelsi hyperrealen Klangräumen auf der Spur, indem er nicht einzelne Töne aneinandergereihte, wie dies das Diktum der europäisch-westlichen Musiktradition war, sondern den Klangkosmos eines Tones und seinem mikrotonalen Klangspektrum erforschte. Scelsi folgte dem Klang meditativ während seines ,Improvisierens', indem er selbst als ,Medium' fungierte und sich dieser Bewegung des Klangs öffnete. Auf seinem Weg zum künstlerisch-schöpferischen Ausdruck könnte er sich damit jenseits einer Trennung von „Heilig und Profan" in ihrem ursprünglichen Wortsinn befunden haben, gemäß dem griechischen „mystes" im Sinne von ,einer, der die Augen schließt' und nach geheimnisvoller Einswerdung' (ml. m stica unio)54 sucht. Scelsi könnte damit jener Ontologie der sich entwickelnden Energien auf der langen Strecke zwischen zwei Halbtönen auf der Spur gewesen sein, wo allein der innere Klang selbst zum Mysterium wird. 52 Gregory Reish, The transformation of Giacinto Scelsis musical Style and Aesthetics, 1929-1959 (Dissertation, University of Georgia, 2001), 76. (Übers. d. d. Autorin) 53 Für den amerikanische Jazzbassist Charlie Haden (* 6. August 1937 in Shenandoah, Iowa) zum Beispiel ist Improvisation ohne Spiritualität undenkbar: „Wenn ich spiele, denke ich an das Holz meines Instruments. Ich möchte, dass das Holz klingt. Ich möchte wie ein Regenwald klingen". Gehört, öl Magazin, Dezember 2013, 41. 54 Kluge, Etymologisches Wörterbuch der.., 644. POVZETEK Giacinto Scelsi, italijanski skladatelj in aristokrat, je bil izjema v zgodovini glasbe 20. stoletja. Bil je obstranec, odsoten z odrov in koncertnih dvoran akademskih krogov. Pripadal je tesno povezani kozmopolitski subkulturi, ki mu je omogočala globalno delovanje. Približevanje vzhodni filozofiji in glasbeni tradiciji je postalo, po globoki psihični in telesni krizi v zgodnjih petdesetih letih, njegova osrednja ustvarjalna strategija. Kozmos posameznega tona s svojim spektrom alikvotnih tonov je postal središče njegovih improvizacij. Potovanje v duhovno dimenzijo ga je privedlo do preoblikovanja globine glasbe, ki jo je - ob višini in dolžini - poimenoval tretja dimenzija zvoka. Glasbene preobrazbe in dinamika cikličnih procesov, eksperimentiranje s časovnimi plastmi je odražalo drugačne in diferencirane načine ravnanja z glasbeno obliko in zgradbo zvoka. Scelsiju sta mikrotonalnost in oscilatorski zvok dajala možnost uresničitve zvočne predstave: "Glasba ne more obstajati brez zvoka, zvok lahko obstaja brez glasbe, zato je zvok pomembnejši od glasbe." Med improviziranjem je Scelsi sledil gibajočemu se zvoku in ga razumel kot "gibanje nepremičnega", svojo šifro zvoka. Njegovo zanimanje za analizo sanj in Jungovo novo interpretacijo človekove du-ševnosti s pomočjo "raziskovanja psihoanalitične narekovanosti sanj, mitskih motivov in okultnih pojavov, ga je (Junga) vodilo 'kolektivnemu nezavednemu, doktrini o arhetipskem in procesu individualizacije'. A primer Freud proti Jungu kaže tudi stalen konflikt znotraj zahodne, evropske kulture 20. stoletja, v kateri obstajajo močne sile nadzora in partikularizma, skepticizma in proti-skepticizma, dve polji, ki bi jih lahko približno opisali kot 'racionalno-izobrazbeno-znanstveno' in 'iracionalno-mistično-spekulativno'.55 Njun konflikt je bil jasno prepoznaven tudi znotraj mikrokozmosa sodobne glasbe: na primeru recepcije Johna Cagea, mutatis mutandis, Scelsija." Scelsi je, ob odrekanju moči in nadzoru, poudarjanju pomena mističnega in ustvarjalni drži "medija", odprtega prostora za ustvarjalni tok, sledil ontologiji razvijajočih se energij, v kateri je misterij notranji zvok sam. Morda je bil tako sposoben združiti obe strani (morda umetno postavljenega) zidu med sakralnim in profanim v en, enovit prostor poduhovljene ustvarjalnosti. Prevod naslova, izvlečka in povzetka Aleš Nagode. 55 Berno Odo Polzer, „Aktuelles aus der Vergangenheit. Zur vergessenen Musikkonzeption des Jani Christou", in Katalog Wien Modern 2003, hrsg. von Berno Odo Polzer und Thomas Schäfer (Saarbrücken: Pfau, 2003), 19-25. (Translation: E. R.) UDK 271.2-535:783.8 DOI: 10.4312/mz.50.2.63-75 Trena Jordanoska Faculty of Music, Ss. Cyril and Methodius University, Skopje, Macedonia Fakulteta za glasbo, Univerza Sv. Cirila in Metoda, Skopje, Makedonija Orient and Occident Encounters in Dimitrije Buzarovski's Oratorio "Radomir's Psalms" Srečanja med Vzhodom in Zahodom v oratoriju »Radomirjevi psalmi« Dimitrija Buzarovskega Prejeto: 2. januar 2013 Sprejeto: 27. marec 2013 Ključne besede: Dimitrije Buzarovski, Radomirjevi psalmi, oratorij, pravoslavno cerkveno petje Izvleček Oratorij Radomirjevi psalmi op. 47 (1999) Dimitrija Buzarovskega povezuje pravoslavno liturgično petje in zahodnoevropsko tradicijo. Vzhodne modalne monodične speve, liturgične in ljudske, vključuje v zahodne večglasne duhovne in posvetne glasbene oblike. Delo je tudi primer vpliva kulturnega okolja na izoblikovanje glasbenih misli. Received: 2nd January 2013 Accepted: 27th March 2013 Keywords: Dimitrije Buzarovski, Radomir's Psalms, oratorio, Orthodox chant Abstract The oratorio Radomir's Psalms op. 47 (1999) by Dimitrije Buzarovski addresses Orthodox chant in a Western tradition, embedding Eastern modal monodic sacred and folk tradition into Western polyphonic sacred and secular tonal forms. The work is also an example of the influence of the cultural environment upon shaping of the musical ideas. Dimitrije Buzarovski (born 1952) is undoubtedly one of the most prolific contemporary Macedonian composers. His opus contains four large groups of musical works: original works (63 opuses), arrangements (42 opuses), theater and film music, signature tunes (37 opuses), and unclassified works (10 opuses). The 63 opuses (the latest one being the Trio Sonata from 2013), could be further divided into five groups: 1) Symphonies and orchestral works (four symphonies, ouverture); 2) Oratorios and stage works (three oratorios, two ballets, two operas); 3) Concertos (seven concertos); 4) Song cycles and chamber music (ten song cycles, sonatas for different instruments with piano accompaniment etc.) and 5) Piano works (three sonatas and sonatina, variations for two pianos, 13 nocturnes). This classification was developed by Buzarovski when he established BuzAr (Buzarovski Archive), which is a digital collection of video, audio, photos, books, papers, scores and other artifacts related to Balkan Cultures and Traditions. The collection is based on Dimitrije Buza-rovski's musical scores, performances, video and audio recordings, digitizing of cultural heritage, musicological and ethnomusicological works (Buzarovski Archive 2012). Buzarovski Archive and particularly the part which is related to his musical opus, is an example of highly organized digital archive, where different artifacts (audio, video, MIDI, graphic materials - scores and photos, and text - articles, reviews etc.) are accompanied by diversified metadata for easy search and retrieval of the related artifacts. At the moment, BuzAr possesses almost two terabytes of digitized material, among them eight collections with folklore materials from the central Balkan region (see About BuzAr, 2012). The oratorio Radomir's Psalms, marked as opus 47, is one of the three Buzarovski's oratorios (the other two are Zhiveeme pametime, 1984 and Ohrid, 1989). The lyrics of the oratorio are taken from the Radomir's Book of Psalms. This manuscript is considered part of the archaic group of the Old Testament religious songs with traces of Ss. Cyril and Methodius translation during their preparatory period for the Moravian mission in 863 AD (Makarijoska 1997, 5, 7). In fact, they selected the Book of Psalms for translation from Greek to Old Slavonic, as one of the "basic, and most used books, necessary for the regular Christian religious services" (ibid., 5). The linguistic analysis (paleographic, phonethic, orthographic, morphosynthactic and lexic characteristics) indicates that the Radomir's Book of Psalms originated from the central Macedonian region in the second half of the 13th century (ibid., 107). The publishing of the intergral version of the Radomir's Book of Psalms with word dividers from the fascimile manuscript (originally written in scriptio continua), accompanied by an extensive linguistic study by Liljana Makarijoska in 1997, very soon attracted Dimitrije Buzarovski's interest for this unique work. He was particularly enthusiastic with the additions to the psalms, i.e., the Troparions and Prayers, and the lavishly illuminated text on page 167: Grjashni Radomir dijakpisa Da ashte i grenboprostjate ipomjanjate mi otca Rada A i vas Bog da prosti. (Sinful Radomir, a deacon, wrote: Forgive my transgressions and remember my father Rado; And God bless you.) This text was used later as an identifier for this manuscript which was accordingly named the Radomir's Book of Psalms. Buzarovski's interest in this edition as a possible lyrics basis was also initiated to the 50th Anniversary of UKIM - Univerzitet "Sv. Kiril i Metodij" (Ss. Cyril and Methodius University) on May 24, 1999, where usually a large musical composition was premiered. Previously, Buzarovski had already won the first prize for the 1989 celebra- tion for his oratorio Ohrid. However, due to the wars in the region in the turbulent 1990s the UKIM University Council was not able to make any definitive plans for the event. Nevertheless, during the summer of 1998, Buzarovski made a decision to write an oratorio which could be used for the celebration of the UKIM anniversary.1 By that time he already had an experience in writing large-scale vocal and instrumental forms (three symphonies, two oratorios, two ballets, two operas, several concertos, sonatas and song cycles) so he could aptly make use of his expertise in the creation of the oratorio Radomir's Psalms. During the summer 1998 the plot of the oratorio was created through the selection of psalms and other texts from the Radomir's Book of Psalms in the following order: (1) opening text (I, sinful Radomir), (2) 151 psalm referring to the David's victory over the Philistines, (3) 32 psalm Rejoyce in the Lord, (4) Troparion (prayer), (5) 51 psalm Why boastest thou thyself in mischief, (6) 84 psalm Mercy and truth are met together, and (7) 150 psalm Praise ye the Lord. Although at the time when the selection was made, one could hardly believe that another war was looming in the region, this plot reflected the atmosphere of the conflicts in 1999 and 2001 in, and around Macedonia. Buzarovski started writing the music in the summer of 1998. At that time the ideological restrictions which limited the composers to write music with religious content were already forgotten. After the World War Two, the new socialist regime in Yugoslavia, i.e., Macedonia, created a very unfriendly environment for religious music. There were no composers who wrote liturgies, despite the fact that the first Macedonian contemporary composer Atanas Badev (1860-1908) wrote The Liturgy of St. John Chrysostom (first published in Leipzig in 1898) (Ortakov 1982, 62, Ortakov 1986, 150-151) and the first generation of Macedonian composers (Gajdov, Firfov, Prokopiev, Skalovski) wrote church music and conducted church chorus until 1943 (Jordanoska and Buzarovski, 2012). The renewed interest began in 1963 when Tomislav Zografski (1934-2000) used Orthodox chant in a Western tradition for his Zapisi op. 39 for bass and piano. Later on, Tomislav Zografski (Dimitrije Buzarovski was his first student of composition) wrote the oratorio Pohvala Kirilu i Metodiju op. 62 (1969), which was awarded by UKIM for its 1969 anniversary and got the state award "11 October" in 1969. Zografski's compositions are a clear example of a successful combination of Eastern Orthodox chant tradition with Western religious and secular music forms. Because Orthodox Church bans the use of instruments inside the church, instruments are used only in the church courtyard, particularly at celebrations of certain saint days with festivities including folk and popular music. These two Zografski's compositions are the first examples of intertwining religious and secular tradition in a vocal/instrumental form in Macedonian music (Buzarovski 1989). During the studies with Zografski in the late 1960s, Buzarovski had composed several short choral works with Old Slavonic lyrics in Old Slavonic Cyrillic alphabet, but these compositions were never performed and later the manuscripts were lost. The first composition which incorporates Slavonic scriptures and Orthodox chant is the third movement of Buzarovski's oratorio Ohrid op. 28 (1988) written for soprano, alto, 1 The data were obtained through conversation with Dimitrije Buzarovski in the spring 2013. tenor, baritone, mixed chorus, symphony orchestra and a synthesizer. Meanwhile, as a pianist, Buzarovski often performed Zografski's Zapisi with the baritone Milan Firfov (1943-2012), and in 1983 he did the TV visualization of Zografski's oratorio Pohvala Kirilu i Metodiju. The next major step in Buzarovski's opus, where religious and profane are skilfully mixed, is the song cycle Spiritual songs op. 36 (1991) for soprano, baritone, children's chorus and synthesizers. This work combined folk lyrics with religious content in a manner which Buzarovski defines as multistylistic and multigenre. The impressive lyrics of these folk balads re-compose Bible elements introducing local folk mythology (e.g. dragons). As the original tune had been lost and only the lyrics were preserved, Buzarovski's interval/melodic basis is once again a mixture of the local folk tradition and Western tonal tradition. This content is accompanied by synthesizers and pop music rhythms (from the 1980s and early 1990s) performed by a drum machine. The multistylistic approach is evident through the use of tonal harmonies in the Baroque-Romanticism range. The Spiritual songs as well as the oratorio Radomir's Psalms illustrate Buzarovski's "adoption of Benjamin Britten's principle to write for certain performer(s), audience, place and time."2 Therefore, the oratorio Radomir's Psalms was composed to be performed with the orchestra, chorus and soloists of UKIM School of Music. During the previous years, as Dean of UKIM School of Music (1995-1999), Buzarovski put a lot of personal energy into developing the school orchestra and chorus by raising funds for purchasing the necessary instruments (contrabassoon, tuba, English horn, bass trombone, bass clarinet and percussions); he also organized concerts of the UKIM SM International Student Orchestra, where foreign conductors and students from Europe and the US premiered complex orchestral pieces (for instance, Stravinsky's Le Sacre du printemps, works by Prokofiev, Dvorak, Wagner, etc) (Frangovska 1999, 54, 55). In addition, UKIM SM students received grants to attend different European summer schools and orchestras (Altenburger Musikfestival, Festival junger Künstler Bayreuth, Darting-ton International Summer School). As a result, in 1999 the School already had an experienced orchestra and chorus so the traditional concert of the international student orchestra was planned for April 1999 in Skopje, with the participation of Conservatoire Jean-Philippe Rameau (Le conservatoire à rayonnement régional de Dijon). The planned program consisted of works by Macedonian and French authors (Buzarovski, Debussy and Ravel). Because of the lack of experienced altos among UKIM SM students, Buzarovski decided to use a second soprano instead. Buzarovski's long-term cooperation with the "Piccolo" chorus (Spiritual songs op. 36 and Wedding songs op. 45 in addition to numerous arrangements of the classical vocal repertoire) resulted in the final selection of the performing ensemble. The musicological analysis of the oratorio clearly demonstrates that it is undoubtedly a work by a mature and experienced composer who has fully mastered the compositional technique: formal structure, harmony, polyphony and orchestration. The 2 Notes from the conversation with Buzarovski. composer's skill to embed Eastern modal monodic sacred and folk tradition into Western polyphonic sacred and secular tonal forms contributes to the unique musical value of this composition. The oratorio starts with an opening that resembles Mozart's Requiem, but the chromatic thirds connections in the harmony soon introduce the dominant neoromantic harmonic approach of the work. The second movement Psalm 151, is an illustration of Buzarovski's powerful governing of the form development. It starts with the flutes/clarinets motives based on the local folk instrumental (kaval's ezgija) and vocal tradition (polyphonic singing) (Example 1). Andante J = 60 Example 1: Psalm 151, measures 1-6. The drone and the interweaving minor and major seconds are used to produce a colourful pedal for the diatonic solo of the tenor, doubled in unison with the solo cello. The next phrase introduces an organ pedal by the brass section. The rest of the movement rises gradually through addition of new orchestral layers, the transfer of the support of the tenor melodic line in the strings section, and cutting the rhythm through smaller note values and faster tempo. The culmination of the movement comes with the words But I beheaded him with his own sword, followed by the calming I removed the disgrace from the people of Israel. This powerful tenor aria exploits the full potential of the voice, and illustrates Buzarovski's profound knowledge of the vocal techniques. The next movement Psalm 32 Rejoice in the Lord fully supports the joy of the righteous. The simple C major triad at the beginning played by the woodwind and brass section makes a short introduction for the chorus section with clear recitative motives resembling Russian orthodox tradition, and Prokofiev's neoclassical approach (Example 2). In the conversation with Buzarovski, he pointed out that the power of nowdays composers is in the collaging of different motives from the previous music traditions as a basis for new combined development. At the moment any music surface is fully explored and there is no possibility to invent anything new at a motive or theme level, no matter whether it is an electronic, acoustic, or combined instruments composition. The originality comes in the deeper levels, i.e., the further use of these music materials in larger temporal structures. Example 2: Psalm 32, measures 1-3. On the other hand, quoting Stravinsky, Buzarovski considers that it is impossible to create a replica of other composer's work due to the uniqueness of the individual's sensibility. The homophonic beginning is soon transferred into a fugato with a motive in a specific interval line (a flat, g, d - downward and then upward - d, e, f, g, a, b) (Example 3). Example 3: Psalm 32, measures 29-34. The fugato is based on complex chromatic progressions, very often passing through polar tonalities. In general, Buzarovski prefers the use of polyphonic structures over ho-mophony. His opus from all periods abounds in complex polyphonic forms (for instance, a double theme chromatic fugue in the Baroque suite from All That Dance op. 39 cycle of variations). The movement further develops through changes between the homophonic and polyphonic sections, ending with the powerful culmination of the chorus in unison. The fourth movement Troparion is probably the most emotionally-charged and beautiful. The somber and sad lyrics of the prayer fully match the soprano melodic line. The form is built in two parts A and A1; overlaying the second soprano and changing the orchestration in A1 (there are no examples of literal repetitions in Buzarovski's opus). The tubular bells at the beginning of the movement are a direct allusion to the sacral content of the composition. The dark trills in the deep cellos and basses makes the fundament for the seventh chords progressions (major, minor, and particularly half-diminished seventh chords) (mm. 5, 6). The late romantic approach (Bruckner, Mahler) is evident in the chromaticism of the extremely complex harmonic progressions. The melodic line of the soprano part is an excellent example of building a pow-erfull culmination through a gradual zigzag upward moving (Example 4) coming to the highest note - D6 in the first soprano at the end of the movement. Adaeio J = 48 Soprano I na-sto - jon- shta gopro - she-ni - ja iz - ba - vi-ti sen_ nam po-mi - si o- brash Gos-po-di_po-mi-lui Gos - po-dipo-mi-lui Gos-po-di po-mi - lui Example 4: Troparion, measures 33-57. 69 Example 5: Psalm 51, measures 1-3. The fifth movement starts with the chromatic chaos (Example 5) in ff dynamic, while the male chorus presents a motive structured in minor seconds (g-flat, f, e, d -downward). The alterations of the thematic materials combine the minor seconds with augmented seconds, once again suggesting a link with the local folk traditions. This highly tensed and aggressive movement support the accusatory character of the lyrics Why boastest thou thyself in mischief,... Thy tongue deviseth mischiefs; like a sharp razor, working deceitfully... According to Buzarovski he chose this psalm to refer to the manipulating power of the mass media coverage of modern conflicts. In terms of composition structure, both fourth, fifth and sixth movement are very close to his Songs of Peace and War op. 38a, with obvious resemblances in stylistic approach, motives, harmonic progressions and the use of polyphony (fourth to the "Peace," fifth to the "War," and sixth to the "Soft Rains"). In addition, the creation of the Songs of Peace and War for soprano, mezzo-soprano and synthesizers was Buzarovski's reaction to the devastating war in 1992 in former Yugoslavia, while Radomir's Psalms anticipated the military conflicts in 1999 and 2001. The sixth movement starts with the diabolic and extremely impressive solo motif performed by the English horn (Example 6). The soft transition in the flutes/piccolo group is presented through diatonic triads as a further preparation for the movement sung by the children's chorus. This movement is entirely composed in a Verdian manner, both in its melodic and harmonic structure, and particularly at the end of the movement where the soloists and the chorus support the leading line of the children's chorus (Example 7). Example 6: Psalm 51, measures 83-89. Gracile J = 5S Example 7: Psalm 84, measures 66-73. We have already pointed out the connection of this movement with the last movement of the Songs of Peace and War. According to Buzarovski, these two movements are unique examples where he composed a whole piece in only one trial. He directly improvized the song, by singing and playing the piece on a synthesizer, and doing a parallel MIDI recording. Several weeks later he listened to the MIDI recording and -contrary to his principle to re-work the compositions several times before the final release - he realized that the integrity of the both pieces did not allow any further interventions. He even reconsidered taking out this movement from the oratorio, but at the end he left it unchanged due to its role in the overall development of the form. In fact, similar to his other works, Buzarovski pays special attention to the structure of the form, both on micro and macro level. Although all movements have closed, encircled development of their forms, there is a general line which unifies the composition through the use of the thematic materials, the change of the tonal centres, meter and rhythm, the orchestration (the change of soloists and choral parts), tempo, dynamics and articulation. The integrity of the work is also evident in the attacca connection of all seven movements. Example 8: Psalm 150, measures 1-4. The last movement opens with the allusion to the responsorial singing from the Orthodox liturgies from Russian origin, (particularly evident in the diatonic triads in the choral recitatives) (Example 8). The next section uses an interval/melodic line which is much closer to the Byzantine-Slavonic Ochtoic, but contrary to the monodic structure of the archaic models, it is presented through a fugato, which is another argument for the blend of the Eastern/Western and religious/profane elements in this musical piece. The structure of the movement goes through the recitative/fugato/recitative/fugato/ coda phases. The fugato sections (contrasted with homophonic parts inside the section) are again rich in chromatic harmonic progressions. The culmination of whole piece is a few measures before the end, provoking the audience to a spontaneous applause. It is immediately broken by the last measures with the lyrics Glory Hallelujah (again - e, f, e, d sharp, e - motive inp and diminuendo of a C major triad). In accordance with Buzarovski's idea, this is a liturgy, which should not be followed by applause of the audience at the end. (The audience rewarded the performance with applause after the third movement, too.) The musicological analysis of the piece could not be accomplished without taking into consideration the extraneous events. The psychological pressure of the potential NATO intervention (which happened on March 24, 1999) undoubtedly shaped Buzarovski's mood during the preparation of the work, which was finalized in January 1999. The oratorio is saturated with very strong emotions conveyed both to the performers and the audience. Although Macedonia was not directly involved in the conflict, NATO planes flew over Macedonia, explosions were clearly heard and thousands of refugees fled to Macedonia. The planned concert with Dijon Conservatory was cancelled (Tasev, 1999), and most of the students stopped attending the classes at UKIM. At this critical moment, Buzarovski decided to start the rehearsals and perform the work during the Easter week, on April 7. (Psalms are regular part of the church service during this week.) During the very beginning of the choral rehearsals, a very loud explosion was heard which frightened the students. But under Buzarovski's strong leadership the students were mobilized and motivated for further preparations. Although the participation in the performance was entirely on a voluntary basis, there was an enormous interest for the concert, so more than 200 students participated in the performance of the chorus and the orchestra (ibid.) (Example 9). Example 9: Premiere performance of the oratorio "Radomir's Psalms" op. 47 by Dimitrije Buzarovski, April 7, 1999, The Foyer of the Macedonian Opera and Ballet, UKIM School of Music Choir and Symphony Orchestra, Children's Choir "Piccolo", Soloists: Ana Stamen-kovska (Durlovski) - soprano, Nadezhda Petrovska - soprano, Marjan Nikolovski - tenor, Igor Durlovski - bass, Dimitrije Buzarovski - conductor. Source: BuzAr, © BuzAr, 2012. Another fascinating feature was that the children's chorus learned by heart the sopranos and altos choral part, and most of the chorus sung without the scores, too. The whole performance was prepared in less than three weeks and Buzarovski decided to use the large foyer of the building of Macedonian Opera and Ballet for the first performance. Apart from several rows of chairs for the elderly, the audience listened to the oratorio standing, similar to the liturgy in churches. Although the event had been announced and organized on a very short notice, more than 2,000 people attended the concert. The music provoked a great emotional response from the listeners who, with tears in their eyes, showed their appreciation with numerous standing ovations, which is evident in the TV recording. As one of the reviewers writes ... The impressive performance gives credit to the reputation of the chorus and the orchestra of UKIM SM with creative spirit which achieved beautiful articulation of all elements of the musical structures. This was a challenge for the young performers, inspiration and adventure, and as a result, they realized the creative vision of the composer and conductor, Dimitije Buzarovski which was evident in the reception of the audience. (Kostadinovski 1999, 12). The oratorio was performed once again at the event of the anniversary of UKIM, May 24, 1999. The planned third performance for the opening of the Ohrid Summer Festival 1999 was cancelled by Buzarovski as a protest against the appointment of an incompetent person for the manager of this renown festival (whose first activity was to cancel the patronage of the President of the Republic of Macedonia) (Vecher 1999, 17). Very soon the manager was replaced, and the patronage of the President of the Republic of Macedonia established, but the oratorio has not performed since. In 2003, the Dean of the School of Performing Arts at Louisiana Tech University, Kenneth Robbins, on behalf of the LTU nominated the oratorio Radomir's Psalms for the composer's global award, The Grawemeyer Award for Music Composition. Bibilography Buzarovski Archive. 2012. Accessed July 3, 2014. http://buzar.mk/. Buzarovski Archive. 2012. "About BuzAr." Accessed July 3, 2014. http://buzar.mk/About-BuzAr.htm Buzarovski, Dimitrije. 1989. "Tomislav Zografski In Praise of Cyril and Methodius - oratorio, Essay for the Rain - song cycle," RTS LP-0137. Jordanoska, Trena and Dimitrije Buzarovski. 2012. "Macedonian Composers during World War Two Revisited." Culture during the World War Two 1939-1945, International Interdisciplinary Scholarly Symposium, June 7-9, 2012. Maribor: The National Liberation Museum Maribor and Institute for Music Infromation Science at the Center of Interdicsiplinary & Multidisciplinary Research & Study at University of Maribor. Frangovska, Jasna. 1999. "Dimitrije Buzarovski: Protiv dupkite vo humanistichkoto obrazovanie." Denes, April 15, 54-56. Kostadinovski, Kostadin. 1999. "Glorifikacija na Bozhjata priroda." Makedonija denes, April 28, 12. Makarijoska, Liljana. 1997. Radomirov psaltir, stari tekstovi, kn. V. Skopje: Institut za makedonski jazik „Krste Misirkov." Ortakov, Dragoslav. 1982. Muzichkata umetnost vo Makedonija. Skopje: Makedonska revija. Ortakov, Dragoslav. 1986. Ars nova macedonica. Skopje: Makedonska kniga. Tasev, Ivana. 1999. "Mnogu energija vo koncertot za mirot i ljubovta." Makedonija denes, April 2. Vecher. 1999. "Buzarovski go povleche Oratoriumot od 'Ohridsko leto'." Vecher, July 2, 17. POVZETEK Oratorij Radomirjevi psalmi, op. 47 (1999) Dimitrija Buzarovskega je eno redkih del makedonskih skladateljev, v katerih je pravoslavno liturgično petje uporabljeno na način zahodnoevropske tradicije. Njegova prizadevanja so nadaljevanje bila nadaljevanje delovanja njegovega profesorja, Tomislava Zografskega (1934-2000), ki je želel v času pritiska socialistične ideologije oživiti tradicijo duhovne glasbe. Pred Radomirjevimipsalmi se podobna prizadevanja kažejo že v oratoriju Ohrid, op. 28 (1988), v katerem je uporabil starocerkvenoslo-vanske odlomke Svetega pisma in pravoslavno liturgično petje, ter v Duhovnih pesmih, op. 36 (1991) z ljudskimi pesmimi z duhovno vsebino. Oratorij Radomirjevi psalmi predstavlja naslednji korak v ustvarjalnem razvoju Buzarovskega, v katerem je povezal vse svoje izkušnje z ustvarjanjem vokalno-instrumentalnih skladb velikega formata. Muzikološka analiza oratorija potrjuje, da je delo zrelega skladatelja, ki popolnoma obvladuje vse prvine kompozicijske tehnike: oblikovno strukturo, harmonijo, polifonijo in orkestracijo. Skladateljeva sposobnost, da vpenja monodično modalno tradicijo vzhodnega liturgičnega in ljudskega petja v zahodnoevropske tonalne polifone oblike daje skladbi edinstven glasbeni pomen. Delo temelji na Radomirjevi knjigi psalmov, ki je verjetno eden zadnjih starocerkvenoslovanskih prevodov iz 13. st., nastalih v tradiciji sv. Cirila in Metoda. Vsebina je razdeljena na sedem stavkov: Prolog, Psalm 151, Psalm 32, Troparion, Psalm 51, Psalm 84 in Psalm 150. Skladateljeva zasnova je multistilistična (pojem je uporabljal Buzarovski), s širokim razponom kompozicijskih sredstev, od baročnih do neoklasicističnih. Motivi in drugo tematsko gradivo, v katerih so povezani ljudska tradicija, pravoslavno liturgično petje in poznoromantični zgledi, spremljajo izredno zapletene harmonske zveze in kromatika. Pogosto izmenjevanje homofonije s polifonijo se odraža v odsekih z zborovskim fugatom in bogato orkestracijo. Čeprav so vsi odseki zasnovani v zaokroženih glasbenih oblikah, zagotavljajo notranjo povezanost skladbe attacca nadaljevanja, tematske sorodnosti, izmenjevanje tonalnih središč, metrike in ritmike, zasedbe (izmenjavanje solističnih in zborovskih odsekov), tempa, dinamike in artikulacije. Radomirjevi psalmi so nastali za zbor in simfonični orkester Glasbene šole Univerze sv. Cirila in Metoda, štiri soliste (dva soprana, tenor in bas) in otroški zbor Piccolo. Skladba naj bi bila prvič izvedena ob sodelovanju konservatorija iz Dijona v aprilu 1999 ter nekoliko kasneje ob praznovanju 50-letnice Univerze sv. Cirila in Metoda (24. maja 1999). Muzikološka analiza se osredotoča tudi na zunanje dejavnike, ki so vplivali na nastanek in izvedbo dela. Psihološke posledice vojn in sporov, ki so pretresale območje, so močno vplivale na način, kako Buzarovski, pa tudi občinstvo doživlja glasbo. Ko je bila načrtovana prva izvedba odpovedana zaradi NATO-vega posredovanja na Kosovu in v Srbiji, se je Buzarovski odločil delo prvič izvesti med velikim tednom v velikem preddverju Makedonske opere in baleta. Prišlo je več kot 2000 poslušalcev, katerih do solza stopnjevan čustveni odziv je lepo viden na televizijskem posnetku. Leta 2003 je bil oratorij nominiran za Grawemey-erjevo nagrado za skladbo na Šoli za izvajalske umetnosti Tehnične univerze v Louisiani. Prevod naslova, izvlečka in povzetka Aleš Nagode UDK 78.032.033.2(38) DOI: 10.4312/mz.50.2.77-91 John Plemmenos Hellenic Folklore Research Centre, Academy of Athens, Greece Raziskovalno središče za helensko narodopisje, Akademija v Atenah, Grčija The Rosary and the Rose: Clergymen as Creators of Secular Poetry and Music in Early-modern Balkans Rožni venec in roža: Kleriki kot ustvarjalci posvetne poezije in glasbe na Balkanu v zgodnjem novem veku Prejeto: 21. december 2012 Sprejeto: 27. marec 2013 Ključne besede: posvetna glasba, Grška cerkev, Otomansko cesarstvo, Bizantinski koral Izvleček Članek se posveča ukvarjanju grške duhovščine s posvetno in duhovno poezijo na Balkanu v začetku novega veka. Ta dejavnost se je začela v poznem 16. st. in prispevala nekaj obsežnih antologij in razprav o otomanski glasbi. Prispevek ponuja vpogled v razloge za to duhovniško dejavnost, pa tudi recepcijo pri laiški in kleriški javnosti ter odzive uradne cerkve. Received: 21st December 2012 Accepted: 27th March 2013 Keywords: secular music, Greek Church, Ottoman Empire, Byzantine chant Abstract This paper deals with the involvement of Greek clergy in secular poetry and music in early-modern Balkans. This trend began in late-16th century, and involved the production of large anthologies and treatises on Ottoman music. This paper offers insights into the motives of those clergymen, the reception of their works by laymen and clerics, and the reaction of the official church. Introduction It should be stressed from the outset that in Greek literature of the time, sacred music was clearly differentiated from secular, the latter called exoteriki or outside music, broadly meaning off-the-church. Yet, exoteriki (as opposed to esoteric) was a term that included all forms of non-Greek music, performed either in the mosque (illahi), the dervish ritual (sema) or at the Ottoman court. This can be explained by the fact that the official genre of Greek music was the ecclesiastic one, since the Patriarchate of Istanbul (Constantinople) was the only administrative entity of the Greek people, who were subjects to the Ottoman sultan. The Ottomans had occupied the Byzantine Empire since the mid-15th century, and had organised the Greeks (as they did with the other peoples formerly inhabiting the Balkans) into ethnic-religious groups, called millets. The Greeks belonged to the Christian Orthodox millet (then called Rum mileti, after the eastern Roman Empire), which included other peoples of the same profession (Romanians, Serbians, Bulgarians, etc.)1. For reasons of consistency and clarity, the term "profane" is employed here to describe not only any non-Greek music (Ottoman, European etc.) but the non-Christian and non-liturgical repertoire of the time. This is important for the argument of this paper, since a good number of composers of those secular songs were clerics, not only of the lower ranks but of the highest echelons of the Greek Church. In the same spirit, the composers represented here all belong to the robed class, including deacons, priests, bishops and a patriarch! Although the church cantors were back then considered lower officers of the Church (in the sense that they contributed to the services and the general functioning of the church), they have been excluded here, despite the fact that they have also produced a sizeable amount of secular works. It is true that the repertoire of those two groups (the cantors and the clerics) is not differentiated in the collections of the time, but the identity (and importance) of each one of them is always noted and often stressed. Traces of profane music can be detected from late Byzantium (13th-15th centuries) but in a very discrete way, and rarely drawing on non-Christian tradition. A case in point (and a possible exception) is a musical work by the great Byzantine cantor of the 14th century, St Ioannis Koukouzelis, curiously called "Tatar" (TaxapiKov). The work is in the form of kratema, that is, a nonsense-syllable text (such as te re re, ne ne na, etc.), used as a musical supplement to liturgical hymns (such as the Cherubic and the Communion hymn) to prolong the service or to fill in the time of mystical prayers by the priest(s). The "Tatar" appellation of Koukouzelis' setting has been interpreted to denote the Mongols, who by the mid-13th century had expanded their territory from China to Asia Minor2. Greek kratemata (pl.) reached their peak in the 14th century (a period of great musical masters) and after a period of standstill following the fall of Istanbul to the Turks (1453) they were revived from the late-l6th century. It should be noted that it was usual for kratemata to bear extra-liturgical names, either of various instruments (trumpet, psaltery), aesthetic categories (very sweet, pleasant) or ethnic names (e.g. Bulgarian)3. Yet, from the late-16th century, a number of Greek clergymen, most of whom were associated with the Greek Patriarchate, became openly and intensely involved 1 R. Clogg, "The Greek Millet in the Ottoman Empire", in Christians andJews in the Ottoman Empire: The Functioning of a Plural Society, Braude B. & Lewis B., eds. (New York - London: Holmes & Meier Publishers, 1982), 185-208. 2 See G. Anastasiou, "Zxeon ovo^axog Kai ^eXcui; oxa PuZavxiva Kai ^exaPuZavxiva Kpaxf^axa" [Relation between name and music in Byzantine and post-Byzantine kratemata], Ta Tevn Kai E15n xn^ BuZavxivfi; ^aXxiKfi; MeXonoiia^ [Genres and Species of Byzantine Psaltic Composition], Proceedings of the 2nd International Conference of Psaltic Art, 15-19 October 2003 (Athens: Institute of Byzantine Musicology, 2006), 153-169. 3 M. Velimirovic, "The 'Bulgarian' Musical Pieces in Byzantine Musical Manuscripts", Proceedings of the 11th International Musicological Society Congress 2 (Copenhagen, 1972), 790-796; idem. "'Persian music' in Byzantium?", Studies in Eastern Chant, vol. III (1973): 179-181. in the production or study of secular music. The status and identity of these clergymen (monks, priests, bishops) meant that their involvement was known to the official church and possibly approved. Furthermore, the continuity of this activity shows that their involvement was not accidental and occasional, but formal, if not organised. Yet, if secular music was often identified with non-Greek (usually Ottoman) music, the question arises as to how the involvement of Greek clergymen in a non-Christian cultural sphere was understood and explained. Entrance to mosques was not allowed to non-Muslims, each millet having its own sanctuaries (churches for Christians, synagogues for Jews, mosques for Muslims), and conversion was prohibited. Furthermore, according to the Muslim law, if an "infidel" became Muslim, he/she was not allowed to revert upon the penalty of death. The answer points to both aspects of the conference theme (sacralisation of the profane and profanation of the sacred) which are to be found in the Greek music (practice) of the time. On the one hand, the ministerial status of the composers implies an attempt to "exorcise" the secular music of the "infidels" (mainly Muslims); on the other hand, the use of ecclesiastical notation for the transcription of secular songs (some of which were of erotic character and written by non-Greeks) desacralized the musical modes and signs that were thought to have been invented by saints and pious men. The latter was emphasised by the addition, in the rubrics, of the equivalent Ottoman makam for every church mode (echos). Byzantine musical notation first appeared in the 9th century, in the form of ecphonetic signs that were originally employed as markers of vocal inflexion (breath and stress) in gospels and other scriptural readings. Their form is taken to imitate the gestures of choirmaster who outlined the musical symbols (cheironomy), and sometimes even the gestures of Jesus himself while blessing or preaching the crowds! As for the eight musical modes, these were attributed to St John of Damascus (late-8th to early-9th century) who was also the poet of a large number of hymns set to music by subsequent composers. The division of the eight modes into four authentic and four plagal was preserved throughout the Byzantine and Ottoman periods, and was considered a central point of reference and distinction for Greek music4. The Greeks boasted (and still do) that by having only eight modal entities could compete (and cover) the hundreds of Persian or Arabic makams that the Ottomans inherited (and multiplied). That was reinforced by the fact that each one of the modes was assigned a special character and ethos associated with spiritual virtues. Thus, the Greek prelates seem to have entered the secular space of non-Greek (Muslim or non-Orthodox) music as "missionaries", to spiritualise the pagan art, leaving at the same time the door (half-) open to outside influences. Why though? From the 17th century, a number of Greek musicians became engaged with Ottoman music either as professional musicians in the court or the dervish ceremonies or as composers of Ottoman music. They even used Turkish language for their librettos, at a time when the official Greek Church established schools and a printing press to promote Greek language to non-Greek speakers in the Balkans. Some Greek 4 For a brief account of the Byzantine modal system, see E. Wellesz, A History of Byzantine Music and Hymnography, 2nd ed. (Oxford: Oxford University Press 1961), 324. composers of Ottoman music held (and still hold) a prominent position in the Ottoman pantheon of classical music, and were numbered among the founders of Ottoman music, such as Tamburi Angeli, teacher of Prince Dimitrie Cantemir, and Zaha-rya Hanende, a court singer5. Other Greek musicians engaged in Ottoman music held high offices in the Greek Patriarchate, such as Petros of the Peloponnese, who was employed by the dervishes as tambur player, and was praised for his unique skill and open mind. In light of this information, the involvement of the Greek clergy in Ottoman music may be viewed as a way to control the activities of their flock and reassert their power on artistic matters. Three stages can be discerned with regard to the Greek clergymen's involvement in secular music: the first stage, starting from the late-l6th and running through the 17th century, included a patriarch, priests and monks copying or imitating the Persian musical style that was then in vogue in Istanbul, after the conquest of Iran by the Ottomans; the second stage, in the 18th century, was characterised by a theoretical exploration of Ottoman music through the production of a treatise by a Greek bishop explaining the rules of Ottoman music for a Greek audience; the third stage, in the 19th century, consisted of a number of clergymen (bishops, priests, etc.) occupying themselves in creating original (musical and poetical) compositions gathered in musical anthologies. Thus, the clergymen's involvement in secular music had at least three consequences: a) it allowed the infiltration of secular music into the religious one, thus giving birth to a new genre, b) it projected a profile of tolerance and openness on behalf of the Greek Church and its ministers, and c) enriched the repertoire of Ottoman and oriental music in general. 1. Profane music as allegory The earliest evidence of the clergymen's involvement in secular music comes from the late-l6th century in the most impressive manner: the Greek patriarch Theophanes Karykes. He was an Athenian (albeit at a time Athens was a shadow of its ancient glory) from a well-off family, and had already served as protopsaltes or first cantor6 (1578) at the Greek Patriarchate of Istanbul before he was elected Metropolitan Bishop of Filipoupolis (modern-day Bulgaria) (1585), Metropolitan Bishop of Athens (1592) and finally Patriarch of Constantinople, where he remained for some months due to his untimely death (1597)7. Theophanes wrote a number of musical works, including some kratemata; one of the latter bears the curious title "Ismaelite" (Ia^anHnKov)8. Ismaelites (or Ismaelis) were Muslim people attested from the 8th century, who belonged to a sect 5 J. Plemmenos, Ottoman Minority Musics: The Case of lS^-century Greek Phanariots (LAP Lambert Academic Publishing, 2010), 37-41. 6 Leader of the right-hand choir that has the precedence in the church service. Karykes is the first reported protopsaltes of the Greek Patriarchate of Istanbul after the fall of the Byzantine capital to the Ottoman Turks (1453). See G. Anastasiou, The Kratemata in the Psaltic Art (Athens: Institute of Byzantine Musicology 12, 2005), 329-330, 402 (in Greek). 7 C. Patrinelis, "Protopsaltae, Lampadarii and Domestikoi of the Great Church during the post-Byzantine Period (1452-1821)", Studies in Eastern Chant, vol. III (1973): 149. 8 See M. Hadjigiakoumis, (1980) Xeipoypa^a EKK^naiaaxiKq^ MauaiKqg 1453-1S20 [Manuscripts of Ecclesiastical Music 14531820] (Athens: National Bank of Greece, 1980), 84. of the Shi'ah, one of Islam's major branches. They were thus called after Ismail, who was recognised as the seventh imam (spiritual successor) to Mohamed the Prophet by only a minority of the Shi'ah. In the 9th century, Ismaelites founded a caliphate that became active until the 13th century, and was influential all over the Middle East9. Yet, it is not certain that Theophanes had those Ismaelis in mind when he wrote his "Ismaelite" piece. This uncertainty is rooted in Byzantine literature that metaphorically refers to Egyptians (the enemies of Israelites) as Ishmaelites with reference to the Old Testament. The Egyptians were considered to be descendants of Ishmael, son of Abraham and his wife's Egyptian maidservant, Hagar. Sarah, the wife, could not originally bear children to Abraham, and they agreed that he would sleep with Hagar; but, after Sarah gave birth, Ishmael, the child, was sent away, and later founded a nation (Gen. 16-17). It is also known that several Arab tribes claim descent from Ishmael10. In the dictionaries of Byzantine and post-Byzantine Greek language, Ismaelites are identified with either the Egyptians or the Arabs11. Besides, Byzantine hymnography contains negative allusions to the metaphorical Ismaelites, the best-known example being a hymn from the service of the Holy Cross (14 September), where the term "Ismaelites" is used as a generic name for the eternal enemy of Byzantium12. In light of that, Karykes' kratema seems to re-evaluate the Ismaelis as non-enemies (at least in the context of music). Theophanes' precedent was soon followed by other composers, such as Arsenios Junior, a priest and monk of Vatopedi Monastery, Mount Athos, Greece, active in c. 1600. Arsenios wrote two kratemata, which he called "Syrinx or Miskal by the Ismaelites"13 and "Muslim" (^ouaouX^otviKov)14 respectively. Syrinx and miskal represent the word "panpipe" in Greek and Arabic, respectively, and their association may refer to Arsenios' borrowing from near-Eastern music. In another Greek anthology, the same kratema, along with Karykes' one, is included in a series of "Naya, which derive from the Ismaelites"15. In Persian language, nay or ney (Gr. pl. Naya) is the word for the reed flute, one of the most important instruments of oriental music and the sacred instrument of the Mevlevi sect (whirling Dervishes). In the 18th century, nay was also mastered by Greek musicians including some cantors of the Patriarchate. Arsenios' "Ismaelite" work, sometimes spelled out as "Miskal" (^oua%dXi), became popular, if we judge from its dissemination and imitation in 17th- and 18th-century collections of Byzantine chant. 9 F. Daftary, A Short History of the Ismailis (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 1998). 10 R. Boase, "The Morisco Expulsion and Diaspora: An Example of Racial and Religious Intolerance", Cultures in Contact in Medieval Spain: Historical and Literary Essays Presented to L. P. Harvey, eds. D. Hook and B. Taylor (London: King's College, 1990 ), 19-20. 11 See E. A. Sophocles, Greek Lexicon of the Roman and Byzantine Periods (from B.C. 146 to A.D. 1100) (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1914); E. Kriaras, Ae^lko xnq |i£aaiwviKiiq eAAnviK^q Sni^Souc; ypa||aT£iaq 1100-1669 (Lexicon of medieval Greek popular literature 1100-1669), vols. VII, VIII (Thessaloniki: Centre of Greek Language1980, 1982). 12 This is the sanctification hymn "Aeuxe maxoi, xo Zroonoiov npoaKuvfaro^ev..." ("Let us, faithful, worship the life-giving Tree...") composed by the Byzantine emperor Leo VI the Wise (866-912). The relevant passage goes: "...sv aoi oi maxoxaxoi BaoiXeig n^rnv Kouxrovrai, rog xn an Suva^ei, Ia^anXixnv Xaov, Kpaxairog unoxaxxovxeg..." (".upon thee [i.e. the Holy Cross] our most pious Kings boast, because with thine power they can completely defeat the Ismaelite people.". 13 "Zupiy^, napa Se xrov la^anXixrov ^auaKaXi". See M. Hadjigiakoumis, McuoiKa xeipoypa^a ToupKoKpaxiag (1453-1832) [Musical Manuscripts from the Turkish Occupation (1453-1832)] (Athens, 1975), 86, 269. 14 Anastasiou, The Kratemata, p. 352. 15 "Nata anep s^spXf|9naav 5ta la^raXixrov". See Hadjigiakoumis 1980, pp. 85, 89. A "Miskal" kratema was written by Petros Bereketis (c. 1700) and has been released in LP (disc 1) by the Institute of Byzantine Musicology (1976). Theophanes also composed a kratema which he named "Pestrefi" (nsaxps^i)16, a term corresponding to the most important instrumental form of Ottoman music (pe§rev). His activity as a composer of profane works was catalytic given his double identity as patriarch and ex-protopsaltes of the Patriarchate. Right after his death and throughout the 17th century, a number of Greek clergymen are recorded as composers of secular kratemata. A group of them come from the islands of Lesbos and Chios, neighbouring with Asia Minor (Turkey), a fact explaining their borrowing of oriental elements. Among them, Seraphim of Mytilene, abbot of Great Lavra Monastery (the senior abode of Mount Athos), and the priests Michael of Chios and Clemens of Myt-ilene17. The end of the 16th century was a period of decentralization and traditional reform for the Ottoman Empire, also described as the beginning of decline: population increase, economic disruptions, uprising and revolts, war with Iran and other states18. So, Theophanes, by setting his foot on the other side of the fence, might have wished to ascertain his role in the Ottoman context and show the Greeks' importance as an ethnic/religious minority. The next important stage of clerical involvement in profane music comes in the second half of the 17th century in the person of Balasios, a high-ranking priest in the Patriarchate of Istanbul. As a reward for his services in the Patriarchate, he was conferred the office of Nomophylax, or Guardian of Law, an honorific Byzantine title, by which he is known today. In the musical sphere, he is believed to have served as Assistant to Precentor or Chorister at the Patriarchate, and excelled himself as a composer of the Kalophonic or Beautiful-singing chant, a heavily ornamented repertoire, rooted in 14th-century Byzantium19. Kalophonic chant was revived in the 17th century, but, under Ottoman rule, was vulnerable to influences from outside, because, although religious in character, "its use was not exclusively liturgical, but panegyric and festal, too"20. Although a priest, Balasios was exposed to outside influences: he composed several pieces sung at dinner on the days of Great Feasts as well as polychronia or praises to Patriarchs and other prelates21. One of his secular works found in a mid-17th century chant collection by an anonymous hand22, in Persian transliterated into Greek characters, is entitled "erotic acem" (ai^s^ikov sprotiKov). The term acem was used by Cantemir (c. 1700) in his collection of notations to describe Persian tunes, which had become fashionable after the fall of Baghdad to the Ottomans (1638) and the influx of Persian musicians in Istanbul23. In Ottoman literature, the term acem may also denote either a pitch (f), a mode (makam 16 Anastasiou, The Kratemata, p. 330. 17 All three clergymen composed kratemata called "naya". See Anastasiou, 2006, pp. 163-164. 18 S. J. Shaw and E. K. Shaw, History of the Ottoman Empire and Modern Turkey, Volume 1: Empire of the Gazis: The rise and decline of the Ottoman Empire, 1280-1808 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991), 169-184. 19 E. V. Williams, "The Treatment of Text in the Kalophonic Chanting of Psalm 2", Studies in Eastern Chant, vol. II (1971): 173-93; A. Ioannidou, "The Kalophonic Settings of the Second Psalm in the Byzantine Tradition (Fourteenth-Fifteenth centuries): A Dissertation In-Progress", Proceedings of the 1st International Conference of the ASBMH, (2007), 210-223. 20 See G. Stathis, "MnaXaoioi; tspsiji; Kai vo^o^ijXa^" [Balasios, priest and Nomophylax], BuZavrivoi Kai MsxaPuZavxivoi MsXoupyoi [Byzantine and post-Byzantine composers], LP Leaflet Notes (Athens: Institute of Byzantine Musicology, 1988). 21 His polychronion has been recorded and released in Polychronismos to the Ecumenical Patriarch by Balasios the piest (CD production), The Greek Byzantine Choir 33 (1999). 22 Ms 941 (ff. 411-13), National Library, Athens, Greece. 23 J. During and Z. Mirabdolbaghi, The Art of Persian Music (Washington, D.C.: Mage Publishers, 1991), 33. Acem) characterised by cadences on this pitch24. Here, the term should be understood as implying the Persian origin and not the mode, because the Byzantine mode-signature (Fourth plagal) in the heading marks an entirely different scale from that in the makam. The same piece, though without the praise, is transcribed in a later collection of the early-18th century25, having dropped the word acem from the heading. It should be noted that the first "Persian" kratema of the post-Byzantine period has been written at the close of the 16th century by Gabriel, who is referred to either as monk or bishop of Ierissos (Greek Macedonia)26. A further "Erotic acem" is found in an anthology of Byzantine chant compiled by Kosmas of Macedonia, a monk at the Iviron Monastery, Mount Athos, in 168027. As in the previous case, the Persian identity of this piece is confirmed by a) the Byzantine mode-indication (First plagal) that is irrelevant to the makam and b) the Persian text in Greek transliteration. Kosmas (d. 1700) studied music with the same teacher as Balasios (Germanos of New Patras), and distinguished himself as a copier of chant collections, and a music teacher. In an autographed collection of religious compositions, dated 1668, he copied one of the stanzas of the Persian song as an independent piece28. Another stanza of the same Persian song is included (also independently) in another collection of Byzantine chant of the late-17th century, compiled in the same monastery29. A kratema called "Acem" (ax^s^iKov) was also composed by Panagiotes Hallagoglu, first cantor of the Greek Patriarchate at the beginning of the 18th century, which has been discovered to copy an older Persian tune from Ottoman collections of notation30. Another one of Balasios' works of this fashion set to a sacred text (of the Pentecost Feast) is described in a Byzantine chant anthology31 as belonging to an Ottoman mode, makam Evig. Evig was one of the most popular makams in the 17th century: in an Ottoman collection dated of the 1680s, in particular, it is the second most frequent mode32. Balasios' little younger Cantemir, in his treatise (c. 1700), mentions Evig as one of his ten basic makams33. However, in the first publication of Balasios' work, a collection of Kalophonic chants34, the Ottoman makam label was dropped, and remained so in following reproductions. The composition's association with the makam must have created a feeling of inconvenience among the Greek musical circles of the Patriarchate, who appear to make an attempt to play down this fact by maintaining that "despite the use of the makam, he did not abandon the equivalent Byzantine mode altogether"35. 24 J. Redhouse, New Turkish-English Dictionary (Istanbul: Redhouse Yayinlari, 1968), 7. 25 Ms 2225 (ff. 119v-120v), National Library, Athens, Greece. 26 Anastasiou, The Kratemata, 331. 27 Hadjigiakoumis, Mcuoucá xeipóypa^a ToupKoKpaxíra;, 85, 321. 28 Hadjigiakoumis, Xeipóypa^a EKK^noiaoxiKfi; MouoiKfi; 1453-1820, 37-38. 29 Anastasiou, The Kratemata, 358-359. 30 The original tune is found in O. Wright, Demetrius Cantemir: The Collection of Notations, SOAS Musicology Series (London: Ashgate, 2000), 9-10. The discovery was made by this author and was published in J. Plemmenos, To iíouoikó nopxpsxo xou NeoeXXnwKOú Aia^roxio^oú [The Music Portrait of modern-Greek Enlightenment] (Athens: Psifida, 2003), 11-14. 31 Ms 13 (f. 135v) dated 1805-15, Musical Folklore Archives, Centre of Asia Minor Studies, Athens. 32 W. Feldman, Music of the Ottoman Court, ed. M. P. Baumann (Berlin: International Institute for Traditional Music, 1996), Intercultural Music Studies 10, p. 234. 33 E. Popescu-Judetz, Prince Dimitrie Cantemir, Theorist and Composer of Turkish Music (Istanbul: Pan, 1999), 54-55. 34 P. Gregorios, Eip^oXóyiov KaX^o^roviKÓv ^eXonoinQév napá Sia^óprov noinxróv naXatráv xe Kai vérov StSaoKÓXfflv [Book of Kalophonic Chant by Various Composers, Ancient and Modern], ed. Theodoros of Phocaea (Istanbul, 1835), 141-42. 35 Chrysanthos of Madytos, ©eropnxiKÓv Méya xqg MouoiKfi; [Grand Treatise of Music] (Trieste, 1832), 122, 162. 2. Profane music as theory In the first half of the 18th century, Kyrillos of Marmara, Archbishop of Tenos (the Aegean island), wrote a comprehensive study on Ottoman music theory. Kyrillos was well equipped to do so for, apart from being a composer of Byzantine chant, he was initiated into Ottoman music by his teacher Panagiotes Hallaçoglu. The latter had served as protopsaltes or first cantor of the Greek Patriarchate of Istanbul, and had produced the first (more concise) Greek treatise on Ottoman music36. He had also composed two Kalophonic works and a kratema; one of the former is admitted by Greek sources to employ an Ottoman makam (Acem)31. So, it is not surprising that his pupil, Kyrillos of Marmara, was also the transcriber of five Persian songs in a mid-18th century collection of Byzantine chant38. The songs are in Persian language and Greek characters (ff. 323v-325v) and are followed by an indication on the form and mode: "Semai, and Sed-Huseyni in Turkish"39 (f. 323v); next to Ottoman mode name, he has placed its Byzantine equivalent. Kyrillos' treatise was written during the second term of Patriarch Paisios II, founder of a School of Chant in Istanbul. During the first term of the same Patriarch (1126-32), a treatise on Ottoman music, written by Hallaçoglu and commissioned by the Greek nobleman Emmanuel Hypselantes, had been produced. It might be not a coincidence then that, in his second term, a new work on Ottoman music came into existence. With Hallaçoglu being retired (1136), and Hypselantes executed by the Turks for treason (1138), new volunteers were needed. If the Greek-Ottoman music dialogue was thus far encouraged, this time it was to be "sanctified". Kyrillos had served as abbot of Ganos and Chora, and, among other works, he had composed a series of Cherubic and Communion hymns; he had also cooperated with the then protopsaltes of the patriarchate, Daniel40. His treatise, written 1140-4241, seems to be the outcome of his interest in Byzantine and Ottoman music. Humbly called The More Elementary Instruction on Profane Music42, it is a thorough study of the modal system of Ottoman music, with emphasis on the melodic progression of the modes which is demonstrated with musical examples in Byzantine notation for every individual mode. This latter element 36 The treatise (with English translation and commentary) is published in E. Popescu-Judetz & A. Ababi Sirli Sources of 18th Century Music: Panayiotes Chalathzoglou and Kyrillos Marmarinos' Comparative Treatises on Secular Music (Istanbul: Pan, 2000), 25-48. 31 Chrysanthos, ©eropnxiKÔv Méya xqç Mauoiicriç, 120. 38 Ms 463, St. Panteleimon Monastery, Mount Athos. Stathes, G. T. (1915) Les manuscrits de musique Byzantine: Mont Athos, catalogue descritif des manuscrits de musique Byzantinee conservés dans les bibliothèques des monastères du Mont Athos, Athens: Institute of Byzantine Musicology, I (in Greek). 39 To napôv eoxi noin^a mup-KupiA^au nprôqv T|vou, xo onoiov Xéyexai oe^âi, xoupKioxi 5e oe-xcuoeivi, ^éXoç Kai Xé^eiç neporôv. 40 G. Papadopoulos, Su^PoXai eiç xnv ioxopiav xnç nap' n^iv eKKXnoiaoxiKriç ^ouoikîç Kai oi anô xrov anooxoXiKrôv xpôvrov âxpi xrov n^eprôv n^râv aK^âoavxeç em^avéoxepoi u^vcYpâ^oi, ^ouoiKoi Kai ^ouoiKoXôyoi [Contributions to the history of our ecclesiastical music, and the most important melodists, hymnographers, musicians and musicologists from the Apostolic times up to our days] (Athens, 1890), 303-304. 41 Although Codex 305 of the Historical and Ethnological Society, Athens, dated 1149, is considered his earliest autograph, there are serious reservations because of his signing "Archbishop of Tenos", a post he left around 1142 (Hadjigiakoumis 1980, p. 94, fn. 219). 42 Sxoixeiro5eoxépa 5i5aoKaXia nepi xnç é^ro ^ouoikîç. Kyrillos' treatise has been published (with an English translation and commentary) by Popescu-Judetz & Ababi Sirli 2000, pp. 49-124. makes his work indispensable, since melodic progression in 18th-century treatises on Ottoman music (e.g. Cantemir and Arutin) is only expressed verbally43. The work is written in the popular Byzantine style of erotapokrisis, that is, a dialogue between teacher and pupil. Kyrillos' work was very popular amongst Greeks, and remained the standard Greek work on Ottoman music until the end of the century. It was copied several times until the late 18th century44, only to be superseded in the second half of the 19th century. Kyrillos approaches profane music with due seriousness, the same he shows for sacred music, as can be seen from the fact that he places his treatise next to another one of his on Byzantine chant. This attitude is apparent even from the introductory paragraph, where he assures his reader that he has compared the Ottoman and Byzantine systems "degree with degree, and phrase with phrase", a phraseology taken from Hallagoglu, who, in his introduction, compares "mode with makam, degree with degree, phrase with phrase, and metres with metres". Kyrillos' introduction reveals his close intimacy with Ottoman music and his acquaintance with Ottoman musicians, most of whom must have been Muslim. At the same time, he seems to have immersed himself in that profane music to the point that he is committed to discover its "most correct" version (to opBoxspov), a term used in orthography (hence the word) as well as in patristic writing45: "After having spent a lot of time in consulting the specialists of this profane music on many issues, I have found a big discrepancy between them. Therefore, taking out what I thought the most correct, I translated [it] in our [Greek] language". One of "the most correct" sources Kyrillos relied on has been identified with the Handbook of Oriental Music written in Turkish by the Armenian, Tamburi Arutin in the 1730s. Arutin was a courtly musician during the reign of Sultan Mahmud I (1730-56), and was greatly influenced by Persian music which he studied in Baghdad46. He also invented a notational system using the Armenian alphabet. His treatise is divided into two parts, the first dealing with the origin and history of music, and the second with the modal and rhythmic theory of Ottoman music. A point of Kyrillos' convergence with Arutin concerns the "old" theory of the makams association with the seven known planets of the time. Kyrillos notes that "for the ancients, there are seven [makams]; for the later and contemporary, however, twelve; because the ancient music teachers of the Persians gave to the modes names according to the number of the seven planet-stars". The association of the octave with the planets is an ancient concept indeed, going back to Pythagoras (6th century B.C.), but having survived until Kyrillos' time, both in the East and the West47. 43 Feldman 1996, p. 268. 44 Other copies of the treatise: Ms Or. 923, Library of the Romanian Academy, written in Istanbul in 1780; Ms 551, Breazul Library, Bucharest; Ms 330, Xeropotamou Monastery, Mount Athos; Codex Petropolitanus 63, Russian Archeological Institute, Istanbul (c.1800, pp. 21-40). 45 See, for example, the phrase «n Trov doy^azmv opddiq; eyKpivei Ta; ouvoScu;» (the correctness of dogma approves the synods) by the Byzantine writer St Maximus the Confessor, in J. P. Migne, Patrología Graeca 90 (1862): 148. 46 An English translation of Arutin's treatise has been published by Popescu-Judetz, E. (2002) Tanburi Kügük Artin: A Musical Treatise of the Eighteenth Century, Istanbul: Pan, pp. 82-83. 47 See J. Godwin, The Harmony of the Spheres: The Pythagorean Tradition in Music (Inner Traditions/Bear, 1992). PLANETS MAKAMS (KYRILLOS/ ARUTIN) Moon Rast Mercury Dügäh Venus Segâh Sun Çargâh Mars Neva Jupiter Hüseyni Saturn Eviç Yet, a question arises: what might have prompted Kyrilos to include this "ancient" theory in his treatise without hesitations either for its pagan origin or for his own responsibility towards the Christian flock? It should be noted that his teacher Hallagoglu did not make any mention to this or any other ancient theory. Besides, this theory had not been endorsed either by the official Orthodox Church, although it was tolerated, if we judge by its reference in some medieval Byzantine collections48. An answer can be given by the interpretation of this association, offered by some late-antiquity authors, such as Aristides Quintilianus (1st century AD). In his treatise On Music, Aristides notes that "for the better of the superior beings who have lived among men, the sounds draw near hearing and there was not even one such man without portions of the following good fortune. Just as it is difficult for us by nature to be epoptae of the almighties, while for those coming to the extreme of virtue and necessary science, it is possible even to observe without harm the presence of the divine figures, so also unworthy men most especially are absolutely incapable of hearing the sound of the universe by accident"49. So, it is the spiritual aspect of this theory that might have urged bishop Kyrillos to endorse it and include it in his musical treatise. At the turn of the century (1806), his spiritual brother Nicodemus the Hagiorite, a monk of Mount Athos and a prolific writer and editor of patristic studies, would reiterate this theory, though with some scepticism as to its authenticity50. Nikodemos even includes a story according to which a monk who reached the peak of Mount Athos at midnight heard a harmony from the planets! It should be added that the word "epoptae" means those who had achieved the third and higher grade of initiation into the Mysteries51. Although the Christian religion did not have mysteries in the ancient sense of the word, the term "epoptae" had been adopted by Christian ascetics from the 4th century and used in Patristic texts of 48 See, for example, the treatise of the 14th-century writer Manuel Bryennius (Book I, 56, 12-21), in G. H. Jonker, The Harmonics of Manuel Bryennius (Groningen: Wolters-Noordhoff, 1970); also T. J. Mathiesen, "Aristides Quintilianus and the 'Harmonics' of Manuel Bryennius: A Study in Byzantine Music Theory", Journal of Music Theory, vol. 27, no. 1 (1983): 31-47. 49 T. J. Mathiesen, ed., Aristides Quintilianus, On Music. Translation with introduction, commentary and annotations, Music Theory Translation Series (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1983), 189. 50 Nea K^i^a^ f|Toi Ep^qveia en; xoug ep5o^f|Kovra nevre AvaPa9^oug xq^ oktiwixou, ano Sia^oprov EKK^notaoxiKrov ouyypa^efflv [New Ladder or Interpretation of the seventy five Anavathmi of the Eight Modes, by various ecclesiastical writers], Istanbul 1844. 51 Nilsson, N. M. P. and J. H. Croon, "Mysteries", Oxford Classical Dictionary, 2nd edition (Oxford: Oxford Clarendon Press, 1970), 716-717. the Byzantine period52. There, the term denotes the charismatic Christian who is endowed with the gift of seeing Jesus' divine light; epopteia being the full initiation into the knowledge of God53. 3. Profane music as practice If so far Greek clerics approached profane music as a marginal and theoretical activity, the turn of the century witnessed their involvement in a more systematic way. The most important collector cum creator of secular music in the first half of the 19th century was Nikephoros Kantouniares, Archdeacon of the Patriarchate of Antioch54. He was born on the Aegean island of Chios, but moved to Istanbul from early age to study music and letters in the Greek Patriarchate under the Precentor Iakovos of the Peloponnese (1790-1800). He spent some years in Damascus where he was ordained Archdeacon and composed some religious works before settling in Jassy (capital of the Moldavian province of Romania) where he established a school of chant and compiled his large anthologies. In the Moldavian capital, Nikephoros was attached to Golia Monastery where he was employed as cantor. Yet, despite his activities and travels, he was able to save time for secular music, which he gathered in a large anthology of his, which he compiled between 1818 and 1820. This anthology (Ms 1428), bearing the archaic name "Melpomene" (the Muse of music and song), is now held in Vatopedi Monastery, Mount Athos, Greece, to which Golia Monastery belonged back then. The anthology gathers over three-hundred secular settings, mainly by previous Greek and Turkish composers (some already dead) as well as Nikephoros' own settings. The Chiote Archdeacon was also the poet of eight of his settings, most of which are love-songs explicitly addressing a beloved person. Such is a piece emerged "at the warm request of his pupil Sofronios" (1428, p. 265)55, shaping the achrostic "Fotinitza" (a diminutive for the female name of Fotini), who is praised for her unique physical virtues and is compared to a "very bright planet". His other musical settings are based on the works of several Greek poets of the time, but the majority belongs to Athanasios Christopoulos (1772-1847), who lived the major part of his life in Bucharest as a judge, and was considered the major poet of his generation56. It should be noted that Christopoulos' father was a priest in Kasto-ria, a major city in Greek Macedonia, who moved to Romania for financial reasons. Nikephoros set to music thirty-two of Christopoulos' poems from his Lyrical Poems (Istanbul 1811), categorised into seventeen Erotica (Love poems) and fifteen Bacchica (Bacchic poems), after Bacchus, the Greek god of wine. Although a son of a priest, 52 "Enônrai yevn9évxeç xqç eksîvou ^syaXetÔTnxoç" [epoptae of His greatness] (Pet. I, 1:16). 53 A.P. Johnson, Ethnicity and Argument in Eusebius ' Praeparatio Evangelica (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006), 64. 54 For his life and activity, see J. Plemmenos, "The Greek Contribution to the Development of Romanian Music in the early-19th Century: The Case of Nikephoros Kantouniaris of Chios", Acta Musicae Byzantinae IX (2006): 1-20; also idem "Musical Encounters at the Greek Courts ofJassy and Bucharest in the 18th century", Greece and the Balkans: Cultural Encounters since the Enlightenment, ed. Tziovas, D. (London: Ashgate, 2003), 179-191. 55 Kaxâ 9ep^f|v napaK^qoiv tou noXuno9f|xau auxaij ^a9nxaû Kup-Zro^poviou. 56 K. T. Demaras, A History of Modern Greek Literature, transl. Gianos, M. (London, 1974), 176. Christopoulos was hailed in his age as the new Anacreon, for his works are full of sensual images. In his verses there also appear ancient gods and goddesses, Muses and nymphs, heroes and heroines, who interact with the humans in an Arcadian (or utopian) context. Most of Christopoulos' poems had been published in Greece and abroad, followed by numerous re-editions57. Nikephoros also set to music three poems by Germanos (Herman), Bishop of Old Patras, the Peloponnese, who is registered as a national hero in modern Greek history, for he allegedly blessed the revolution of 1821, which broke out in Patras and led to a partial liberation of Greece (1830)58. Although of rural origin, Germanos (1771-1826) was known to the Patriarchal circles, since he was a nephew of Patriarch Gregorios V, by whom he was ordained Bishop in 1806. Nikephoros' works must have been recorded in Istanbul, where Germanos remained between 1815 and 1818 as a member of the Holy Synod of the Patriarchate. Germanos' works are of erotic character, one shaping the acrostic "Katenko", a diminutive for the Greek Christian name Aikaterina (Catherine). Katenko appears to have been a person of questionable morality, for, underneath this song, Nikephoros noted with contempt: "I dare not say what these verses stink of; as for the object they refer to, one has to chew broad-beans and spits on it" (1428, p. 16)59. No evidence of Nikephoros' relation with the bishop survives, but in light of the above statement one may reasonably suspect that they would not have been very warm. Another poem by Germanos (1428, p. 317) appears to employ a popular French strophic type, namely that of five-line stanza, which, though unknown to Byzantine or post-Byzantine poetry, is found almost identical in the light French poetry of the time. This stanza type is "constructed on two rimes which can be disposed in various ways, of which the most usual by far is a b a a b. The measure used is generally the line of seven and eight syllables"60. The 8-syllable poetic line is one of the most important in French language, the rest being the 10- and 12-syllable ones. In the 18th century, 8-syl-lable line was "much favoured by all the poets of that epoch both for lyrical pieces and for the ode, and more especially for all branches of lighter poetry". The Greek song-text is one of light character too, the theme revolving around the lover's complaints for the cruelty of his/her beloved. The (thematic and technical) proximity of the Greek work with its French prototypes can be gauged by a comparison with a work by the French poet J.-B. Rousseau (1671-1741), taken from his Oeuvres (Paris 1781, vol. I, p. 69): 57 G. Theocharopoulos, Poesies lyriques de I' Anacreon moderne, Athanase Christopoulos... avec la tradustionfrancaise en regard (Strasbourg: De l'Imprimerie de L. F. Le Roux, 1828). 58 For a brief account of Germanos' activity, see C. A. Frazee, The Orthodox Church and independent Greece, 1821-1852 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1969), 18-20. 59 Aev Xéyro ti Ppro^oûv oi oxixot, ^a 5ta to unoKei^evov eiç to onoiov avâyovxai avayKq va ^aoâ Tivôç KouKÎa Kai va to ^xuvq. 60 L. A. Kastner, A history of French versification (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1903), 142, 175. J.-B. ROUSSEAU GERMANOS Tandis que dans la solitude, Msxa aanXaxvla^ aKpa^ Où le destin m'a confiné, Kai ^syaXn? anovia^ J'endors par la douce habitude to Kop^l ^ou PaaavlZsi^ D'une oisive et facile étude aanXa%va KaTaq^oyiZsu; L'ennui dont je suis lutiné. Kai Ta qmXXa t^g KapSia^. (While in solitude, where fate has confined me, (With utmost unmercifulnesss I fall asleep by the sweet habit and great cruelty of idle and easy study you torture my body the boredom by which I am and, with pitilessness you burn completely enlightened). the recesses of my heart). Another love-song transcribed by Nikephoros was produced by Athanasios Kas-savetis of Cyprus, Bishop of Volos, Greece (Ms 1428, p. 145). Athanasios (1797-1821) was Nikephoros' colleague in Istanbul, but managed to surpass him in church hierarchy due to his connections in the Patriarchate (he was a nephew of the Patriarch Gerasi-mos of Cyprus). However, he was popular among his flock, for he managed to connect the religious festivals with the rural ones in his diocese, and contributed a great deal to the preparation of the Greek Revolution. His work is an attack on Death who is called with the semi-archaic word Charon (Xapo^), and "steals" from life the most "precious, beautiful, marvellous and young" members. Yet, Athanasios' verses contain some interesting innuendos as to the identity of the object of his praise (a young man?) and their (platonic?) relation61. This is pointed by Nikephoros' own derogative comment on the author and his work, which he finds "cacophonous, out of tune and effeminate, and this Cypriot bishop's mirror and image"! Other settings were produced at the instigation of some pupils of his (either clergymen or cantors) in his School of Chant in Jassy. Such is the setting on a poem by Iakovos Rizos-Neroulos (1778-1849), a dramatist who was born in Istanbul, and served several Princes in Moldavia and Wallachia as high-rank officer62. Neroulos' poem (1428, p. 259) was set to music by Nikephoros "after a pressing encouragement of both the poet [Iakovos] and the composer's [Nikephoros'] pupil, Sofronios"63. The poem is of explicit erotic character: a girl is invited to lie down on the grass with the poet and leave herself to his caresses that are described in corporeal terminology (by the addition in 61 Tro Ôvxi KunptrôxiKov ^éXoç Kai xoicnjxcu apxiepéroç Kunpirnxau nôvq^a Kai sijvoia: KaKÔ^rovoç, napôçtrovoç Kai £Kxe9nXuo^évoç. 62 See the preface in J. P. L. Humbert, Cours de littérature grecque moderne, donée à Genève par Jacovaky Rizo Néroulos (Geneva: A. Cherbuliez, 1828). 63 Kaxâ napaKivnoiv PePiao^évnv xou auxoij Kai xcu ^a9qxoû xcu Zro^poviou. every line of the phrase "what a pleasure!" [n nSovq!]), Although the poem is not his own creation, Nikephoros' decision to provide a musical setting must be considered a daring and rather risky one. Sofronios seems to have been Nikephoros' beloved pupil since he is often referred to as such in another collection of Byzantine chant which he produced in Moldavia (1816)64. Yet, his involvement in producing of and consuming secular music of this sort was totally forbidden by the official Church. In the official collection of ecclesiastical canons, first published less than two decades earlier (1800), the editor Nicodemus cites a number of canons prohibiting clergymen of all grades engage in all sort of entertainment upon depose from office. For example, Canon IV of Laodicea ordains that any bishop, priest or deacon "must not hold banquets by agreement or with contributions collected from a number of persons gathered together at the same time and place, whether they be in holy orders or clergymen or laymen"65. That was based on an older assumption that "Christians cease holding banquets and balls (or dances) and games to the memory of or as feasts to martyrs and other saints, such as those customs which are peculiar to the Greeks [i.e. pagans] and due to their error and godlessness" (Canon LX1X of Carthage). Furthermore, the 7th Ecumenical Council decreed that "neither ought Christians to eat and drink to the accompaniment of musical instruments and whorish and demonish songs". These prohibitions did not deter Archdeacon Nikephoros to write songs in explicit Ottoman fashion, such as a song described as a "kind of §arki", the most popular Ottoman form (1428, p. 222). The Greek lyrics were provided by Theodoros Negris (1790-1824), a polyglot Greek who lived in Wallachia, and was subsequently appointed chargé d'affaires to the Turkish Embassy in Paris66. Nikephoros also records twelve Turkish, eight Arabic, four French, and an Italian song that seem to have become popular in the Greek community of Romania. Some of his Turkish songs come from the famous Turkish composer Ismail Dede Efendi (his contemporary), and were used in the ritual of the Mevlevi dervishes. Among his transcriptions, there is an ezan or a call to prayer "from the voice of a dervish of Damascus, where I received the monastic tonsure" (Ms 1428, p. 213). However, underneath the transcription, he added the following statement as if to apologise for this liberty: "Let him and his followers be anathema, unceasing worm, gnashing of teeth, and huge pit of nether gloom; as for me, may I ask for forgiveness for such a terrible impertinence and boldness"67. 64 This is Ms 1429 ("Terpischore"), Vatopedi Monastery, Mount Athos, Greece. 65 H. Nicodemus, The Rudder [Pedalion] of the metaphorical ship of the One Holy Catholic and Apostolic Church of the Orthodox Christians, transl. D. Cummings (Chicago: The Orthodox Christian Educational Society, 1957 (Repr., New York: Luna, 1983)), 64. 66 See Negris' short biography in English in J. Bentham, (2006) The correspondence of Jeremy Bentham: July 1824 to June 1828, The Complete Works of Jeremy Bentham, vol. XII, eds. L. O'Sullivan, & C. Fuller (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2006), 3-5. 67 Ava9e^a Se eaxro auxro, OKroXn^ aKoi^nxog, Ppuy^og oSovxrov Kai xapxapog anepavxog ^exa xrov onaSrov auxou. Ka^oi Se auyvro^n ^syaXn evsKa xoiauxng anaiatou au9aSeiag Kai xoX^ng. POVZETEK Članek se posveča stiku med duhovnim in posvetnim, ki se kaže v ukvarjanju krščanske duhovščine s posvetno in duhovno poezijo na Balkanu v začetku novega veka. Evropska duhovščina je od 18. st. naprej dejavno sodelovala v glasbenem življenju. Najbolj znana predstavnika sta Benečana Antonio Vivaldi in Mozartov libretist Lorenzo da Ponte. Podobno kot za Italijo, je veljalo za sosednjo Grčijo, od 1453 pod otomansko oblastjo, kjer se je vrsta duhovnikov in škofov ukvarjala s posvetno glasbo. Izhodišče razvoja je delo patriarha Teofanesa Karikesa. Svoja dela je imenoval "Izmaelitska", po svetopisemskih Izmaelitih, potomcih Abrahama in njegove priležnice Hagar. Uporabljal je tudi poimenovanja po orientalskih instrumentih. V drugi polovici 17. st., po porazu Perzijcev in začetku njihovega priseljevanja v Otomanski imperij, se začno pojavljati dela po perzijskih zgledih (acemli). Izrazit primer so dela, ki jih je v perzijskem jeziku v grški transliteraciji pisal visok duhovnik grškega patriarhata Balasios. Njegovemu zgledu so kasneje sledili grški menihi na gori Atos (osrednji meniški skupnosti v Grčiji). Grški kleriki so se ukvarjali tudi s teoretskim opazovanjem „tuje" glasbe, s čimer so ohranjali vodilno vlogo v grški skupnosti tudi pri umetniških vprašanjih. Tako je Ciril iz Marmare, škof na Tenosu, v sredini 18. st. spisal teoretsko razpravo, v kateri je grškim bralcem pojasnil pravila otomanske glasbe. Spis je bil pogosto prepisovan na širšem območju Balkana (predvsem v Turčiji in Romuniji). V drugi polovici istega stoletja so različni kantorji in duhovniki v Turčiji in Romuniji izdelali več antologij posvetne pesmi. Najbolj plodovit, a danes večinoma neznan kompilator tega časa je bil Nikefor Kantouniares z Iosa, arhidiakon Antiohijskega patriarhata, ki je uglasbil tudi pesmi dveh znanih prelatov: Germana, škofa iz Starega Patrasa in junaka grške revolucije leta 1821, ter Atanazija Kasavetisa s Cipra, škofa Volosa v Tesaliji. Kantouniares se je naselil v Romuniji, kjer je poučeval glasbo in zbral na stotine pesmi grške in drugih etničnih skupnosti v velikih antologijah, notiranih v cerkveni notaciji. Njegovi odnosi z grškim patriarhom niso bili prav dobri, kar se odraža v njegovih zbirkah, ki mnogokrat opozarjajo na moralne slabosti njegovih sobratov. Članek, temelječ na doslej neznanem gradivu, ki ga je odkril avtor, odgovarja na vprašanja, kot so: Kaj je vodilo te duhovnike k ukvarjanju s posvetno poezijo oz. glasbo? Kako je občinstvo sprejemalo njihovo delovanje glede na umetniška in etnična izhodišča? Kako se je odzvala uradna cerkev? Do kakšne mere je njihovo ukvarjanje z umetnostjo vplivalo na njihovo poklicno napredovanje (in delovanje) znotraj cerkvene hierarhije? Članek je razdeljen v tri odseke, ustrezno s tremi pristopi pri ukvarjanju klerikov s posvetno glasbo (kot alegorija, teorija in praksa). Prevod naslova, izvlečka in povzetka Aleš Nagode UDK 785.082.1:272-535-789.32 DOI: 10.4312/mz.50.2.93-99 Vesna Venišnik Oddelek za muzikologijo, Filozofska fakulteta, Univerza v Ljubljani Department of Musicology, Faculty of Arts, University of Ljubljana Instrumental Music and Franciscan Liturgy Instrumentalna glasba in frančiškanska liturgija Prejeto: 27. februar 2013 Sprejeto: 27. marec 2013 Ključne besede: simfonija, uvertura, Frančiškanski red v Novem mestu, 18. stoletje, liturgija Izvleček Knjižnica Frančiškanskega reda v Novem mestu hrani bogato zbirko cerkvene in posvetne glasbe iz 18. stoletja. Med ohranjenimi muzikalijami so tudi simfonije. V pričujočem članku bodo predstavljene njihove značilnosti in izvedbene možnosti v okviru cerkvene liturgije. Received: 27th February 2013 Accepted: 27th March 2013 Keywords: symphony, overture, Franciscan order in Novo mesto, 18th century, liturgy Abstract The Franciscan Library in Novo mesto holds a rather large collection of 18th century sacred and secular music. Among the preserved music there are also several symphonies. The article deals with their characteristics and the possibilities of their performance during the church liturgy. Various religious communities all over Europe shelter rich musical legacies that have been gathered over the course of time for use in the liturgy and devotional services. The Franciscan order in Novo mesto has preserved a rather rich collection itself, most of which was intended for performance during their services in the church of St Leonard. However, the musical heritage preserved in the monastery's library is not made up exclusively of church music, it also consists of numerous secular genres, from solo keyboard pieces and string quartets, to overtures and symphonies. This instrumental music was also probably intended for performance, whether as Tafelmusik at special occasions or as part of the church liturgy. In the course of the 17th and 18th centuries, instrumental works were incorporated in the liturgy. They were, for instance, performed in specific parts of the Mass, some- times even replacing particular vocal settings.1 When the organ, the basis of the musical accompaniment of the service, was supplemented with additional instruments in the mid 17th century, the range of instrumental pieces that could be performed widened (sonata da chiesa, concerto grosso, and trumpet concerts), thus enabling the inclusion of genres now regarded as emblems of secular music. Records show that even symphonies were performed in churches during masses. Ten Haydn symphonies from the Benedictine monastery of Gottweig were, for instance, performed liturgically.2 Moreover, accounts of contemporaries, as well as numerous symphonic repertoires preserved by various religious institutions, attest to the fact that the symphony had a place in church.3 While some symphonies were even written for liturgical purposes in da chiesa style (one-movement works), such as most of the symphonies by Franciscan priest Stan-islao Mattei, others were merely entitled Sinfonia sollennis, sollene (literally: solemn symphony)4 and did not fundamentally differ from their concert counterparts.5 Consequently, there are contrary opinions as to whether a specific subgenre, the so-called sinfonia da chiesa, actually existed, especially with so few extant examples matching its description.6 It is more likely that any symphony that could be acquired was performed in churches.7 The fact that archives of different religious orders collected concert symphonies from numerous composers supports this view. Many monasteries in the Habsburg Monarchy cultivated the symphony and obtained rather large symphonic repertoires, and the monastic archive in Novo mesto apparently followed their example. The small number of symphonies, preserved in the archive derive from composers of roughly the same generation, including some of the favourites of the era: Joseph Haydn, Carl Ditters von Dittersdorf and Johan Baptist Vanhal. 1 Stephen Bonta, "The Uses of the "Sonata da Chiesa"", Journal of the American Musicological Society 22 (1969): 64. 2 Mary Sue Morrow, "Eighteenth-Century Viewpoints", in The Symphonic Repertoire, vol. 1, The Eighteenth-Century Symphony, ed. Marry Sue Morrow and Bathia Cherugin (Indiana: Indiana University Press, 2012), 51. 3 Musical historian Charles Burney heard symphonies on his journeys through Vienna, and Carl Ditters von Dittersdorf stated that he heard symphonies played in churches in his autobiography. 4 Robert N. Freeman, "The Austrian Cloister Symphony", in The Symphony 1720-1840, series B, vol. 6, Austrian Cloister Symphonists, ed. Robert N. Freeman (New York: Garland, 1982), Xiii. 5 Ibid.. 6 Neal Zaslaw, for instance, considers sinfonia da chiesa an autonomous genre. In his article "Mozart, Haydn and the Sinfonia da chiesa", he bases this conclusion on statements by 18th century music theorists Johann Mattheson, Johan Adolf Scheibe and J. A. P. Schulz, who claim that symphonies were part of church music and had special characteristics (compositions mostly in one movement, with a serious "air" and fugal forms). However, Stefan Kunze and Otto Biba disagree, rejecting the idea of it being a distinct genre. (Adapted from: Morrow, "Eighteenth-Century Viewpoints", 51). 7 Morrow, "Eighteenth-Century Viewpoints", 51. y r a r ib Li n a c is ci n a r Ph e th c el h s e r tu tr e d n a s ie ni o h p y Signature Ms. Mus. 409 Ms. Mus. 445 7 7 2 s. S s. Ms 3 4 3 Ms. mus. 278 c 4 3 3 Ms. mus. 282 Ms. Mus. 284 Ms. mus. 504 Date of publication 1782 1762 Date of composition rv. 1751-1800 By 1763 By 1770 By 1753 1760 1763-1765 Thematic catalogue number Margaret Grupp Grave A4 Anthony Van Hoboken 3 :1 Ia: :6 Ia: 0 :1 Ia: Ia:15 Ia:1 Ia:2 Cliff Eisen G3 Paul Bryan C1 Composition/Edition Overture Symphony? Symphony in A major Sei sinfonie a grande orchestra (collection of 6 overtures) L'isola disabitata L'incontro imrpovviso Lo speziale La vera costanza L'infedeltà delusa Il ritorno di Tobia Symphony in E-flat major Canora Orphei dulce severi nemora (collection of 12 symphonies & 2 serenades) Pastoral Symphony in G major Sinfonia (Overture to La buona figliuola) Symphony in C major Composer Anonymous Anonymous Carl Ditters von Dittersdorf (1739-1799) Joseph Haydn (1732-1809) Antonín Kammel (1730-1784 ) Kraus Lambert (1728 -1790) Leopold Mozart (1719-1787) Niccolo Piccinni (1728-1800) Johann Baptist Vanhal (1739-1813) Carl Ditters von Dittersdorf was one of the most prolific composers of the symphonic genre in the 18th century, and his manuscript copies and prints were widely distributed, so it is not surprising that the Franciscans obtained one of his symphonies. The Symphony in A major was written no later than 1766 and has three movements in fast-slow-fast form, which was characteristic of the composer's early symphonies prior to the numerous changes in style in 1773 (from 1773 onwards, he employed exclusively a four-movement model, in which sonata forms and rondos replace the simple binary forms, movement length is extended and the orchestra enlarged).8 The first and last movements are in the early binary sonata form, although a few measures of modulation in the second part hint at a development section. The slow movement is very short and in a simple binary form. It is interesting that the manuscript version retained by the Franciscans is scored for strings only - two violins, viola and bass - with the original two oboes and two horns omitted. A number of works by Dittersdorf's contemporary, Johann Baptist Vanhal, were obtained by the Franciscans. As well as six string quartets, six violin duets and divertimentos for string trio, there is also the Symphony in C major. Paul Bryan concluded that "it must have been one of Vanhal's best known symphonies because it is listed in six contemporary catalogues or references and eighteen [nineteen including the one in Novo mesto] manuscript copies of it have been found".9 It is the only symphony in the Franciscan Library with four movements, each of which demonstrate an interesting formal design. Although composed in Vanhal's early period, it is the most mature symphony of the collection. While the first movement follows the standard model and is in sonata form, the entire second movement is modelled as a canon. Bryan also noted that the Trio has "a rather long chorale-like melody with irregular phrases that looks as though it might be a chant melody rather like those occasionally employed by Haydn".10 In his symphonies, Haydn incorporated Gregorian chants, lamentations and chorale melodies; for instance, the melody of the first movement of the Symphony in C major, No. 30, is based on an Alleluia. Landon suggests that this symphony was intended for performance during the Easter festivities.11 Vanhal's symphony ends with an effective rapid Finale. Although his Symphony is scored for strings, oboes, horns, and trumpets-timpani (except for the second movement), only the parts for one violin and timpani have been preserved here. Another symphony that stands out is Leopold Mozart's Pastoral Symphony in G major. Leopold's works are certainly rare in Slovenian archives, and even this work was mistakenly attributed to his son, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. This symphony is of a peculiar kind, being a "characteristic"12 symphony, i.e., a symphony with a specified subject. Moreover, it is an instrumental pastorella, a church composition intended 8 Richard Will, "Carl Ditters von Dittersdorf", in The Symphonic Repertoire, Vol. 1, The Eighteenth-Century Symphony, ed. Marry Sue Morrow and Bathia Cherugin (Indiana: Indiana University Press, 2012), 483. 9 Paul Bryan, "AE287" (About Symphony in C), Artaria Editions, http://www.artaria.com/SystemLink_ProductAboutThisWork_339. Accessed May 1, 2013. 10 Ibid. 11 H. C. Robbins Landon, The Symphonies of Joseph Haydn (London: Universal edition & Rockliff, 1955), 260. 12 Characteristic symphonies were frequently composed in the second half of the 18th century. By far the most popular subject was the pastoral, followed by military, hunting and storm depictions. Some composers even tried to attribute national characteristics to their symphonies. for performance during Christmas mass. Rather than relying on a particular text, the whole mood of the work is characterised by a generalised and favoured subject: the pastoral. One obvious reference to the chosen subject matter is the composer's use of a shepherd's horn (alphorn), but he also uses typical pastoral motifs: perky themes in the first and last movements, including a distinctive theme in 6/8 time, and symmetrical material for the second movement. Antonin Kammel is represented by several chamber works and his Symphony in E-flat major. This symphony also belongs to the last stages of early classicism, being a three-movement work with standard scoring (two oboes, two horns and strings). Interestingly, continuo figures have been added to the bass part, a feature also evident in some of his other symphonies.13 If these works really were acquired by F. Mathias Poehm,14 who, like the composer himself, was of Czech decent, then this symphony must have been composed by 1870. Many of Kammel's works are preserved in copied manuscripts by monastery collections in Bohemia, where F. Poehm could have obtained the manuscript before he settled in Novo mesto in the 1870s.15 It has already been established that monastic communities fostered the performance of symphonies, with several monks even contributing such works. The Franciscan Library preserves a collection of symphonies by F. Kraus Lambert16 of the San Benedict Order of the Bavarian monastery Metten. The composer was obviously well known in Slovenian lands,17 as a printed collection of seven masses and a requiem are held in the library of the priest Peter Pavel Glavar in Komenda. The collection of twelve symphonies and two serenades entitled Canora orphei dulce severi nemora was printed in 1762. The symphonies all follow the basic pattern of the early symphony, a three-movement scheme with two fast movements enclosing a slow movement in which the wind instruments are generally omitted. The first movements examined are in the early binary-sonata form, in which the tonic returns with the secondary theme in the recapitulation.18 Some, however, express the tendencies of full sonata form (the 9th symphony), with distinctive first and second material (both returning in the tonic in the recapitulation) and even incorporating a passage with modulation, albeit with no real development of the basic material. The second and third movements are in binary form or binary-sonata form. During the course of the movements, the same, mostly uninventive material is more or less repeated. The motives are very simple in terms of rhythm and melody and are not developed through the course of the music. We cannot speak of themes: the composer works with two-bar groupings repeated 13 Zdenka Pilkova, "Antonin Kammel. Introduction: Life and Works", in The Symphony 1720-1840, series B, vol. 13, (New York: Garland, 1982), Xx. 14 Tomaž Faganel, "Glasba klasicizma v novomeški arhivih", in Dolenjski zbornik (1997): 218. 15 Faganel, "Glasba klasicizma v ...", 215. 16 Lambert Kraus (Pfreimd (Oberppfalz), 27 September 1729; Metten, 27 November 1790), composer. He joined the Metten monastery in 1747, where he was engaged in multiple functions. Only a year after his addmitance he became regens chori. He was teaching the choirboys as well as meanaging the monastery's seminars and in 1770 he was ellected abbot. The twelve symphonies and the two serenades are his only instrumental works, his opus concentrates on vocal music for liturgic use as well as stage works. 17 Faganel, "Glasba klasicizma v ...", 216. 18 Jan Larue and Eugene K. Wolf, "Symphony: I. The 18th Century", in Grove Music Online, ed. Deane Root, http://www. oxfordmusiconline.com.nukweb.nuk.uni-lj.si/subscriber/. Accessed May 15, 2013. sequentially. The movements examined are basically homophonic. There is little interaction between the instruments, with the second violin normally duplicating the first violin or playing accompanying figures. All twelve symphonies are in a major key, not going beyond three sharps or one flat. They are scored for strings, to which either two clarions with timpani (symphonies 2, 3, 4, 8, 9) or two horns (symphonies 5, 6, 7, 10, 11) or both (symphonies 1&2) are added ad libitum, with the wind instruments supporting the strings. In the 1740s, strings and a wind choir of oboes and horns became the standard instrumentation for symphonies, but clarions and timpani were often used in church music. This perhaps affected the composer's choice. On the other hand, the brevity of the movements suggests that these symphonies were actually modelled on overture symphonies, in which clarions and timpani were part of the standard scoring. It is clear that the symphonies belong to the style of early classicism. Their features are conventional and do not surpass average creativity. The two serenades added in the collection have livelier orchestration, with one requiring two flutes and two horns in addition to strings, and the other requiring two clarinets and two horns. These works have seven movements, each with three minuets, and their compositional technique does not differ from that of the symphonies. The Franciscan Library holds another printed collection entitled Sei sinfonie a grand orchestra, which Joseph Haydn published as Opus 35 with the well-known publisher Ar-taria. This was apparently a very popular publication, as the Philharmonic Society founded in Ljubljana in 1794 had the exact same collection. The edition is in fact an assembly of six overtures (compared to the symphonies, they are smaller in scope: some are single movement pieces or have three short movements). The fact that Haydn decided to give them the title of symphony demonstrates that the genre was not as determined then as it is now. Moreover, the terms overture and symphony were used interchangeably until the end of the 18th century, as is clearly illustrated by the piece entitled Sinfonia by Niccolo Piccinni, the prolific opera composer. The Sinfonia is in fact the overture to his successful opera La Buona figliuola, scored for a standard string ensemble, two oboes and two horns, which, in the symphony version, actually serve as substitutes for trumpets. Among the manuscripts there is also a part of an instrumental piece of an anonymous composer. Its formal structure with four movements in the order of Allegro, Andante, Menuet/Trio and Presto leads to the conclusion that it is most likely a symphony. However, only the part for the second violin is preserved, therefore, it is very difficult to establish to which symphony and author it belongs. There is also an anonymous Overture, which contains parts for the violins and horns, but the parts are cut and half of the music is missing. Because of the incomplete and missing parts more substantial information about the pieces cannot be given. After observing the features of the symphonies held in the Franciscan Library, it is clear that they were not collected randomly. Although not following the guidelines of the church symphony, as they are not single-movement works and do not have any fugal movements, some of them do incorporate sacred elements, such as Vanhal's chant-like melody from the Trio of the Symphony in C major, or its canonic slow movement, which would definitely be suitable for church use. As at concert performances of symphonies, during the liturgy movements were performed separately, or, even more likely, only one movement was selected for performance. Another work very suitable for performance during the liturgy, would be the slow movement from Leopold Mozart's Pastoral Symphony, as pastoral elements in music and pastoral works were very common in religious services. A further interesting fact is that all of the symphonies were probably collected during the time when the church symphony was prospering in the Habsburg Monarchy: in the 1760s and 1770s, until the Josephinian reforms in the 1780s.19 When the extent of the services had to be moderated, there was no need for the incorporation of symphonies. However, the question of performance possibilities still remains. As has been pointed out before,20 it is doubtful that the richly scored pieces were ever performed, as it was definitely difficult to acquire the necessary wind instruments. The standard practice, however, was to simply omit instruments that could not be acquired. F. Kraus Lambert's scoring already anticipated this problem, with all of the wind instruments being added ad libitum. This may be why the Franciscan copy of Dittersdorf's symphony also omits the winds. These implicit facts indicate that these symphonies were performed during the liturgy; however, further research of the monastery's documents would perhaps reveal explicit evidence that is not offered by the manuscripts. In conclusion, I would like to add that these symphonies, although few in number, also contribute to a wider and clearer idea of what the symphonic repertoire was like in the second half of the 18th century in the Slovenian territory. It is clear that by the end of the 18th century, with the establishment of the Philharmonic Society, the prevailing classical repertoire of the cultural capitals was well established in these lands. However, these few symphonies testify to the fact that the periphery of the Habsburg Monarchy was also acquainted with the early stage of classicism. POVZETEK Bogata zbirka muzikalij iz 18. stoletja knjižnice Frančiškanskega samostana v Novem mestu vsebuje tudi nekaj simfoničnih del. Slednje bi lahko bile namenjene za izvedbo med mašnimi obredi v cerkvi Sv. Lenarta, kjer so Frančiškani skrbeli za bogoslužje. V 17. in 18. stoletju so med cerkvenim bogoslužjem namreč izvajali tudi instrumentalne skladbe, ki jih danes dojemamo kot popolnoma posvetne. Med njimi so bile pogosto tudi simfonije. Simfonije in uverture iz frančiškanske zbirke so dela skladateljev druge polovice 18. stoletja (Johann Vanhal, Carl Ditters von Dittersdorf, Leopold Mozart, Antonin Kammel in Nicolo Piccini) in so predstavnice zgodnje klasicistične ustvarjalnosti. Ohranjena je tudi zbirka dvanajstih simfonij meniha Klausa Lamberta iz Bavarske in zbirka uvertur Josepha Haydna. Nobena izmed simfonij sicer ne sledi oblikovni shemi t. i. sinfonie da chiesa, žanru namenjenemu liturgični rabi, kljub temu pa nekatera dela izkazu- 19 Neal Zaslaw, "Mozart, Haydn and the Sinfonia da chiesa", 20 Faganel, "Glasba klasicizma v ...", 216. jejo značilnosti, ki jih lahko povežemo s cerkvenim glasbenim bogoslužjem. Trio iz Simfonije v C-duru Johanna Vanhala temelji na melodiji, ki je podobna koralnemu spevu. Sorodne tehnike se je v simfonijah pogosto posluževal Haydn. Za bogoslužje bi bil primeren počasni stavek iste simfonije, ki je zgrajen kot kanon. Pastoralna simfonija Leopolda Mozarta je pravzaprav instrumentalna pastorella, cerkvena kompozicija, ki je vsebinsko povezana s praznovanjem božiča. Morda so bile prav za bogoslužje namenjene tudi simfonije meniha Klausa Lamberta. Hipotezo, da so bile simfonije namenjene za izvedbo v bogoslužju podkrepi dejstvo, da so bile pridobljene v času pred Jožefinskimi reformami, ko so bili mašni obredi še obogateni z instrumentalno glasbo. Sicer drži, da je bilo težko pridobiti vsa predvidena pihala oz. trobila za izvedbo omenjenih del, vendar je treba opozoriti, da je stalna praksa poznega 18. stoletja omogočila, da so se simfonije izvajale v zasedbi, ki je bila v danem trenutku na voljo. The Journal of Musicology 1 (1982): 117. UDK 785.038.6. 071.1(497.4) DOI: 10.4312/mz.50.2.101-110 Leon Štefanija Univerza v Ljubljani, Filozofska fakulteta, Oddelek za muzikologijo University of Ljubljana, Faculty of Arts, Department of Musicology Profanation in Slovenian Contemporary Symphonic Music? Profanacija v sodobni slovenski simfonični glasbi? Prejeto: 14. januar 2013 Sprejeto: 27. marec 2013 Ključne besede: slovenska postmoderna glasba, simfonična glasba, slovenski skladatelji, absolutna glasba, metafizika glasbe Izvleček Pogosta »postmoderna težava« profanacije umetnosti je izhodišče analize petih slovenskih skladateljev simfonične glasbe - Uroša Rojka, Vita Žuraja, Lojzeta Lebiča, Nenada Firšta in Črta Sojarja Voglarja. Njihova umetniška hotenja in stvaritve se približujejo določenim metafizičnim, zgodovinsko gledano romantičnim idealom avtonomije glasbe, ki so bolj ohlapno vezani na zamisli postmodernosti. Received: 14th January 2013 Accepted: 27th March 2013 Keywords: Slovenian postmodern music, symphonic music, Slovenian composers, absolute music, metaphysics of music Abstract The common "postmodern concern" over the profanation of the arts is taken as a starting point for analysing works by five distinctive Slovenian composers of symphonic music - by Uroš Rojko, Vito Žuraj, Lojze Lebič, Nenad Firšt and Črt Sojar Voglar. Their artistic intentions and realizations come closer to certain metaphysical, historically speaking rather romantic, ideals of autonomous music, only remotely connected to the ideas of postmodernity. Aim The paper was written for the research project on Slovenian symphonic music after 1918, which is part of the national project Slovenian Musical Works After 19181. Thus, a few words on its background seem appropriate. The project aims to gather information about musical works composed in Slovenia after WW I in a rather pragmatic 1 The details about the project, funded by the National Agency for Research (J6-4088 [A]; 1.7.2011-30.6.2014), may be found here: http://sicris.izum.si/search/prj.aspx?lang=slv&id=7013. archival manner: to build a database of facts regarding musical works in Slovenia. The database shall include different genres and styles, for the time being also the explicit musical poetics of the composers as well as reception information. I am working currently on symphonic music. The following lines are confined to five glimpses into symphonic production in the last decade. In line with the common "postmodern concern" regarding contemporary art music - reading: also the art music has succumbed to profanation, marketing and the fast-food-consuming logic of the late capitalism; consequently it has lost its social power - my aim is to address this surmise: if, at all, and to which levels, then, the "postmodern concern" may be accepted? Rojko and Žuraj: A Virtuosity of Sound If two aesthetically appealing events from the near past may stand for a variety of musical, also symphonic phenomena, I may risk to choose the chamber opera King David, Cither and Sword (2009) by Uroš Rojko (b. 1954) and two sets of symphonic pieces, published on two CDs, Crosscourt (2008) and Maxply (2010), by Vito Žuraj (b. 1979). Rojko's opera,2 an opera "for children and adults", is based on passages from the Old Testament as a "parody [...] of perversity of the current culture of profitability"3: "The young shepherd and zitherist David is an appointee of God and he seems to be successful in everything. He, the sweet singer, climbs the social ladder from a shepherd to the warrior and finally becomes the successor of King Saul." Here, Rojko does not depict a single-sided social story, but incorporates the psychological self of the protagonist: "David is also plagued by fears and is stumbling over his very own needs - the desire for a man to whom he entrusted his innermost and loves it for its own sake."4 The compositional means are carefully designed within a stylistically rather compound aesthetics, a kind of "expressionist" combination of musique spectrale, new complexity, micro-polyphonic textures and sound-fascination-expertises of Giacinto Scelsi. I have chosen his single opera as probably the most plain explanation of Rojko's creativity, which is otherwise centred on chamber instrumental and symphonic music. His sym- 2 Published in Verlag Neue Musik as Zither und Schwert (Libretto: Marc Günther), nach dem Alten Testament, for mixed choir, Speaker, tape and ensemble, ISMN: M-2032-1906-4, Product No.: NM11349. 3 »Rojkova uglasbitev zgodbe o kralju Davidu je glasbena parodija. Kot večina primerov te vrste se je porodila iz nuje - pa vendar je vse prej kot rešitev na silo. Opera je tako nastala iz perverznosti novodbnega pridobitništva.« http://www.eventim.si/si/ vstopnice/uros-rojko-kralj-david-citre-in-mec-komorna-opera-ljubljana-kino-siska-67144/event.html. 4 The Gesellschaft für neue Musik Freiburg e.V. offered the following text on the opera: „KÖNIG DAVID / Zither und Schwert / Eine Kammeroper in 7 Bildern für Kinder und Erwachsene Der junge Schäfer und Zitherspieler David ist ein von Gott Berufener, dem alles zu gelingen scheint. Er, der süße Sänger, wird vom Schäfer zum Krieger und schließlich zum Nachfolger König Sauls. Doch auch David wird von Ängsten geplagt und stolpert über seine ureigensten Bedürfnisse - der Sehnsucht nach einem Menschen, dem er sein Innerstes anvertrauen und der ihn um seiner selbst Willen liebt. David ist kein Held im klassischen Sinne, mit seiner musisch-sanften und seiner kampfbereit-harten Seite wird ein differenzierter, fast gebrochener Held dargestellt. Im Laufe seines Lebens geht er durch viele Täler, seine Erfolge sind von Einsamkeit begleitet - sind die ersten Jahre gezeichnet durch das Leid, das er anderen zufügt, wird er später zu einem, der selbst viel erleiden muss. David muss lernen, dass er in all seinem Handeln auf die Hilfe Gottes angewiesen ist, Gott aber nicht auf ihn. Es wird nie eine Gegenleistung geben, nur Liebe." http://www.mehrklang-freiburg.de/projekte/koenig-david-zither-und-schwert.html. Accessed March 3, 2013. phonic works from the last quarter century (the last one, for instance, La Gomera5) are well comparable to this opera regarding its compositional logic and musical aesthetics, including the ethical appeal. "I search for beauty, yet this beauty has certain depth, certain foundation [Grund]. This foundation is not from our world, it is something that our world cannot offer and it is nevertheless based on it. I could not connect my music to the New Age or the like, where one only strives for therapeutic achievement of a certain state [...]. My music does not have any therapeutic purposes, it is much more contiguous to a natural experience of well-being."6 Example 1: Uroš Rojko, La Gomera, p. 6. 5 Uroš Rojko, La Gomera (Berlin: Verlag Neue Musik. ISMN: M-2032-2093-0). 6 V izvirniku: „Ein System sagt noch gar nichts aus, was du daraus machst ist wichtig." „Die Idee, etwas Neues zu machen, war damals, als ich mich mit Serialismus und Neuer Musik beschäftigte, sehr wichtig [...] Es geht mir in der Tat um Schönheit, aber Anchored in a comparable modernist tradition, Vito Zuraj won several prizes for his work, probably the most outstanding of which are the nomination of his piece Warm-Up for French horn and percussion for a recommended work at the 201 International Rostrum of Composers in Stockholm and the 1st prize at the „57. Kompositionspreis der Landeshauptstadt Stuttgart" for his work Changeover for instrumental groups and symphony orchestra. Both - as the majority of Zuraj's - works excel in virtuosity: "Zuraj's 'Changeover' is a brilliantly set score for a total of 114 instruments, some of which are positioned to play among the audience [...]. In its block-like structure of the whole, the sound-worlds of the piece and its sound-exchanges bear witness of great connoisseurship [Kennerschaft]. The language of sound is spectacular, the dramaturgy of the composition surprising and the mastery over the material in the treatment of unexpected pillars of noise and hurricanes impressive."7 Zuraj gains the mastery over the compositional métier through a superb technical skill. His knowledge of pitch distribution and imagination in software usage (Max and Finale) is to some degree comparable to his imaginative poetics of 'game', as developed in both sets of symphonic pieces pertaining to the tennis game: individual concepts from tennis are taken for initial stimulus (for instance: Overgrip = tape around the grip of a racquet; Deuce = for equal score after the 40 has been reached; Net Cord = the wire holding the net; Crosscourt = the hit to the diagonal opposite side, etc.) He defines his integrative ludic aesthetic in broad terms of erasing existent geographical, cultural as well as aesthetical borders: "When and if we ever manage to look at the art and consider artists with the same measure of respect regardless of their nationality, race, religion, stylistic direction and ideological attitude, then we shall perhaps be able to anchor more steadfastly in the arts the function of uniting and connecting people. [...]. I believe that we should see the future of the arts in the amalgamation of all insights from the past with the visions of times to come."8 Lojze Lebic: The Rational Esotericism On the other side, Lojze Lebic (b. 1934), probably the most revered Slovenian composer and academician - symphonism is central to his output -, creates somewhat different art worlds. As Renata Salecl aptly notices for love (and hate) relations: "barriers diese Schönheit hat eine Tiefe, hat einen Grund. Dieser Grund liegt nicht in unserer Welt, ist etwas, was unsere Welt nicht bieten kann und was ihr dennoch zugrundeliegt. Natürlich möchte ich meine Musik nicht zu einem Punkt von New Age oder ähnlichem bringen, wo es nur darum geht, therapeutisch einen Zustand zu bekommen [...]. Meine Musik hat keine therapeutische Absicht, sie grenzt schon eher an ein natürliches Erlebnis, so daß man sich als Mensch wohlfühlt. [...] Mein Leben ist so gekommen, daß ich für mich eine andere Welt suche. Die Musik drückt das aus und ist ein Teil von mir." („Lauschen auf die innere Musik. Wolfgang Rüdiger im Gespräch mit Uroš Rojko," v: ARS NUSICI {AM} 1122-2 (Freiburger Musik Forum, 1995, 15), 18-19.). 7 From the award announcement, at: http://www.stuttgart.de/item/show/273273/179/467869?. Accessed April 2, 2013. 8 Črt Sojar Voglar, Composers' traces from 1900 onwards (Ljubljana: Društvo slovenskih skladateljev, 2005), 295. Example 2: Vito Zuraj: beginning of Changeover, p. 27. and symbolic prohibitions greatly contribute to the attractiveness of the love-object."9 Probably his carefully designed and even more carefully elaborated symphonic pieces tend to merge different aesthetical utterances into what may be described as a postmodern modernism: very subtle quotations, allusions, aesthetic rather than technical vicinity of certain acoustic phenomena from the art world and the other worlds may be found in his works. Since he understands composition as a process of "framing, when something from one finds its way into another world"10, his symbolic gestures differ if juxtaposed to Rojko's expressive sound textures and Zuraj's almost picturesque soundscapes in the first line regarding its symbolic pregnancy, where clear-cut barriers exist between the "lowbrow" styles and "artificial music". An allusion, or a quote, is hardly to appear in a clear-cut manner in a sense of "closing the gap" between different art 9 Renata Salecl, (Per)versions of love and hate (London/New York: Verso, 2000), 169. 10 Milan Dekleva, "Kot da je svet že dopolnjen," Pogovor z Milanom Deklevo, Dnevnik, 7. 2. 1994. worlds, leaving ambiguous, cognitively uncertain and semantically contiguous experience, as, for example, in his Cantico I for orchestra (1997) and its cosmogony-imagery at the beginning: Example 3: Lojze Lebic, example from beginning of Cantico I (1997), p. 2. Nenad Firšt and Črt Sojar Voglar: "Purely Musical" With apparently any explicit semantic ambitions, the view on contemporary symphonic musical poetics would hardly change, even if two more prolific symphonists are introduced, Nenad Firšt (b. 1964) and Črt Sojar Voglar (b. 1976). Firšt comments on his Concertino for flute, saxophone and chamber orchestra (2006), a piece that may be considered as typical for his symphonic work in its entirety, as a piece that "represents the soloists in the intensive interactions of improvisatory nature in the first and rhythmical, sporadically virtuosic playfulness in the second part. Unitary musical events are summarized in the solo cadence, followed by a brief bravura conclusion."11 He sees himself strongly connected to the classical-romantic tradition: "I cannot embed myself nor any other anywhere. I feel close to many things within the tradition of art music, conditionally speaking, I am closest to the expressionists' legacy. "12 Comparably, Črt Sojar Voglar - he speaks of concerto and symphony as his favorite "orchestral forms" - finds his Violin Concerto (2009-10) to be one of his best pieces13. He described his main compositional features with the following words: "In my works after 2010, I search for contrasts between the simple and the complex, between the well-known and the more daring, between rhythmic clarity and the aleatoric dispersed, between modality and tonal ambiguity, between simple chords and dissonances, sometimes extending to clusters. I gradually achieved a synthesis of impressionism and neoclassicism, adding to it some other compositional means of the contemporaneity, here and there also a neoromantic expression, when I feel that the piece needs it."14 A kind of "purely musical" poetic imagery may be supposed, positioning itself in line with different historical (neo-)styles and, in the case of Sojar Voglar's work, aspiring toward polystylism. 11 From the CD booklet for Divisions, Simfonični orkester RTV SLO, dirigent Jurg Wyttenbach (Ljubljana: Založba kaset in Plošč RTV SLO, 2008). The concerto is published by the Society of Slovenian Composers, EdDss 1876. 12 »Nagrajenci Prešernvega sklada: Nenad Firšt,« Večer, 18.2.2009. http://web.vecer.com/portali/vecer/v1/default. asp?kaj=3&id=2009021805408360. Accessed May 2, 2013. 13 Črt Sojar Voglar, »Moj ustvarjalni credo - značilnosti moje kompozicijske tehnike, pa tudi moji dosežki,« blog, sobota, 6. april 2013. http://sojarvoglar.blogspot.com/. Accessed May 30, 2013. 14 Ibid. Example 4: Crt Sojar Voglar, Concerto for violin and orchestra, Ed DSS 1954, pp. 1-6. Integrative, Humble, Delicately Uncertain In general, the mentioned musical poetics emphasize certain levels of integrity of different historical as well as phenomenological variables. They may be summed up with a metaphor of a chain, one side of which encircles ideas of "acoustic universals" as artistic means - ideas of the soundscape as art medium. The "voice itself" is, as it were, a "modernist soundscape's world" to paraphrase Simon Frith's tripartite usage of Danto's concept15. On the other side, the "acousticism" of Rojko, Zuraj and Lebic - musical poetics developed out of the modernist sound inventory - is displaced in Nenad 15 Frith speaks of a classical music world, a folk music world and a commercial music world. Simon Frith, Performing Rites: On the Value of Popular Music (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1996). Firšt's as well as Sojar Voglar's poetics: it is displaced from the realm of acoustic universals into a field of more historically - also geographically - determinable variables. In Firšt's and Voglar's poetic music sticks to what common sense knowledge labels as the classical heritage. And it is seen as a foundation out of which the modernist phenom-enological "extensions" have been raised. Of course, this opposition between phenomenological and historical stance is but a virtual contrast of complementary capacities of perception. And here I do not offer a corrective with information regarding reception as well as the inherent poetics of the mentioned works. Instead, I am tempted to make a certain methodological slip into Slavoj Žižek's view of music as a "supplication: a call to a figure of the big Other (beloved Lady, King, God ...) to respond"16. His argument rests on a premise of melody as a subjective voice, prevailing in the era of Classicism, becoming complex in the era of Romanticism and somehow evaporating in the modern music objectified in Schonberg's Sprechgesang. The modern music, says Žižek, is a "renouncement" of that "endeavor to provoke the answer of the Other"17, thus remaining on a certain "speechless vacuum", on a level of "dissolution of the romantic subject".18 This methodological, or rather semantic, slip into Žižek's "structural substantialism" of musical textures seems to me as a rather handy, plastically described view on modern music as propagated in the 1970s and still in the 1980s. To the contrary of Žižek's belief, the modern music addressed above is but a fan of views on restitution of what has been for decades now thematized as a "postmodern turn" - a turn away from the "big stories" of the modernity into the "small stories" of the era without anything substantially new: an era of idiosyncrasies, "dialects" and differences. Idiosyncrasies are actually emphasized in each of the five mentioned musical poetics - surmising the inevitability of heterogeneous semantic potentials and skillful technical features of the music. As for the works addressed here, they remain within the unproblematic milieu of musical handcraft - in a typically pre-classical, as it were pre-instrumentalized, position of music as an "innocent luxury": as a phenomenological 16 Slavo) Žižek, The Plague of Phantasies (London/New York: Verso, 2008), 245. 17 Ibid. 18 Ibid., 270. In his view on music "each [musical] epoch, in a kind of 'synthesis of imagination', self-reflectively relates to preceding epochs" (ibid., 247). Searching the differences between the epochs with Charles Rosen's insights regarding the logic of memory, Žižek summarizes the difference between the memory in classical and romantic eras as follows: "in Classicism, memory recalls past happiness (the innocence of our youth, etc.), while the Romantic memory recalls not a direct past happiness, but a past period in which future happiness still seemed possible, a time when hopes were not yet frustrated - memories here are 'those of absence, of that which never was'. The loss deplored in Classicism is the loss of what the subject once had, while the Romantic loss is the loss of what one never had.' [...] That is to say: what the subject does not have is not simply absent, but is an absence which positively determines [...] life." (Ibid., 249.) The substantial argument is centered in Schumann's textural complementary usage of melody and harmony: "Schumann's crucial contribution lies in the way in which he 'dialecticizes' the relationship between the sung melody and its piano accompaniment: it is no longer the voice which renders the melody, with the piano reduced to accompaniment or, at best, secondary variations on the main melodic line (as it is still with Schubert). With Schumann, the privileged link between melody and voice is broken: it is no longer possible to reconstruct the full melody from the solo vocal line, since the melody, as it were, promenades itself between vocal and piano lines [...]." (Ibid., 253.) The main axiom for denying any semantic potential to the modern music is a rather problematic one: the lack of melody in modern music - the lack of a voice of a subject, as he illustrates in Arnold Schonberg's Gurrelieder: "Gurrelieder: an utterly denaturalized nature, a kind of perverted, mocked innocence, not unlike the corrupted debauchee who, to add spice to his games, mimicks a young innocent girl... The unique achievement of Gurrelieder is that it renders the very passage from late-Romantic excessive expressionist pathos to the desubjectivized idiotic numbness of the Sprechgesang." (Ibid., 271). challenge to the listener's capacity of imagination - not of his musical predispositions or expertise, or compositional knowledge. What at least the explicit musical poetics of the addressed pieces is concerned - beside their heterogeneous and heteronomous idea(l)s of performativity -, a certain, rather humble, position may be contemplated. None of the mentioned musical poetics appears to venture into the realm of experiment, research, explicit semantic goal, technical or stylistic unicum. On the contrary, they are all aspiring toward a certain aesthetic efficiency comparable to the ideas of the early romantic era. Whether one may speak of more or less profane, or sacred, is difficult to say. But it seems difficult to doubt in what I would suggest as a common feature of the contemporary (perhaps not only Slovenian) music: avoidance of any overtly semantic pregnancy, except a certain exuberance in acoustic ludism. Of course, there are many more profane - or at least on the level of explicit musical poetics more sacred, more "geistig" - versions of symphonic music. Yet I do not believe they can change the offered view of the symphonic music today as an art of luxurious "acoustic ludism" beyond the ideas of profanation and sacredness: aiming at a certain aesthetic pregnancy, not semantic utterances, even less stimulating actions beside listening to the "musicality" of a piece. Another "metaphysics of the absolute", "just" a meta-religious pragmatism, substan-tialism or ...? POVZETEK Prispevek je uvodna refleksija k raziskovalnemu projektu o slovenski simfonični glasbi po letu 1918, ki je potekal od leta 2011 do 2014 pri Javni agenciji za raiskovalno dejavnost Republike Slovenije. Projekt si prizadeva zbrati in muzikološko obravnavati glasbena dela, ki so nastala v Sloveniji po prvi svetovni vojni na čim bolj arhivski način: ponuditi bazo muzikoloških podatkov o glasbenih delih na Slovenskem. Baza bo v končni fazi vključevala različne zvrsti in sloge, vključno s pričevanji o glasbenih poetikah skladateljev in ustvarjalcev ter podatki o recepciji. Trenutno raziskujem slovensko simfonično tvornost tega obdobja. Prispevek je osredotočen na pet vpogledov v glasbene poetike simfonične ustvarjalnosti 21. stoletja. Skladno s splošno "postmoderno zaskr- bljenostjo" glede sodobne umetnosti - opisati jo je mogoče takole: tudi umetniška glasba je zapadla profanosti, trženju in logiki hitrega prehranjevanja; posledično je izgubila svojo družbeno moč - v članku pretresam naslednjo domnevo: ali, če sploh, je mogoče "postmoderno zaskrbljenost" sprejeti za relevantno v povezavi s slovensko simfonično glasbo? Analiza petih umetnin, ki so jih podarili Uroš Rojko (1954), Vito Žuraj (1979), Lojze Lebič (1934), Nenad Firšt (1964) in Črt Sojar Voglar (1976) - ponujajo odgovor, v katerem se umetniške rešitve skladateljev in njihove uresničitve približujejo določenemu metafizičnemu, zgodovinsko gledano romantičnemu idealu avtonomne glasbe. Tako je ključni prispevek analize strnjen v vprašanju: ali obravnavana glasba preoblikuje "metafiziko absolutnega", gre za "samo" nekakšen nad-religijski pragmatizem, substancializem ali ...? UDK 78l.7.038.6"l9" DOI: l0.43l2/mz.50.2.lll-l25 Gregor Pompe Univerza v Ljubljani, Filozofska fakulteta, Oddelek za muzikologijo University of Ljubljana, Faculty of Arts Sacral Rituality and Mysticism in the Service of the Awakening of National Identity. Baltic-Balkan Parallels in the Works of B. Kutavičius, L. Lebič and V. Tormis Sakralna ritualnost in misticizem v službi prebujanja nacionalne identitete. Baltiško-balkanske vzporednice v delih B. Kutavičiusa, L. Lebiča in V. Tormisa Prejeto: 9. januar 2013 Sprejeto: 27. marec 2013 Ključne besede: postmodernizem, Bronius Kutavičius (1932), Lojze Lebič (1934), Veljo Tormis (1930), balkanska glasba, baltska glasba, glasba 20. stoletja Izvleček V delih B. Kutavičiusa, L. Lebiča in V. Tormisa lahko odkrijemo izrazito naklonjenost do ritualnosti, uporabe ljudskih inštrumentov, ideje kroženja življenja in nekakšne simulacije ljudske glasbe iz historično neopredeljivega časa. Takšne paralele vzbujajo vprašanja o vzrokih podobnosti, ki so povezani s socialno-politično situacijo držav, v katerih so skladatelji živeli in ustvarjali. Zato stilističnih sprememb v sedemdesetih in osemdesetih letih ni mogoče ločiti od želje po politični in ideološki osvoboditvi. Vsi trije skladatelji so na takšne trende odgovorili s podobnimi umetniškimi rešitvami: iskali so mistično in sakralno glasbo predzgodovinskih ljudstev, ki služi kot sprožilec močnih nacionalnih čustev. Received: 9th January 2013 Accepted: 27th March 2013 Keywords: postmodernism, Bronius Kutavicius (1932), Lojze Lebic (1934), Veljo Tormis (1930), Balkan music, Baltic music, music of 20th Century Abstract In the works of all B. Kutavicius, L. Lebic and V. Tormis, one can find a pronounced inclination towards the ritual, the use of folk instruments, the idea of the circulation of life, and some sort of simulation of folk music of unidentifiable prehistoric times. These parallels raise the questions about the causes for such similarities which are connected to the socio-political situations of countries in which the composers lived and created. Therefore, it is not possible to disconnect the stylistic changes of the seventies and eighties from the desire for political and ideological liberation. All three composers responded to those trends with similar artistic solutions: they searched for mystical and sacral music of prehistoric tribes which functioned as trigger for the awakening of strong national feelings. Baltic-Balkan Parallels In an article about Balkan and Baltic vocal polyphony, Martins Boiko finds that surprising similarities exist between the early polyphonic music of Balkan and Baltic countries, concluding that such commonalities are not based on coincidence and cannot be explained through direct or indirect contacts between the two cultures.1 It is, however, surprising to find that similar parallels also exist between contemporary Baltic and Balkan composers. In the present article, I would like to shed light on parallels between the music of Lithuanian composer Bronius Kutavicius and that of Slovene composer Lojze Lebic, although similar characteristics can also be found in the music of Estonian composer Veljo Tormis. The aim is to reveal these similarities and to organise them into a kind of typology, while in the concluding section I will attempt to seek reasons for their existence. Lithuanian composer Bronius Kutavicius, Slovene composer Lojze Lebic and Estonian composer Veljo Tormis belong to the same generation: Tormis was born in 1930, Kutavicius in 1932 and Lebic in 1934. There is no reliable evidence that the Baltic composers have had any contact with the Slovene Lebic: Kutavicius and Tormis have the scores and CDs of their music published by international publishing houses, but Lebic clearly states that he is not familiar with Kutavicius's music and knows only a few choral pieces by Tormis;2 on the other hand, it is not very likely that Kutavicius and Tormis are acquainted with Lebic's music. The only possibility would be that they have heard his works at certain international festivals of contemporary music, but this is unlikely. Furthermore, in the 1990s, when Lebic's music was presented at several international festivals (especially regular performances at the World Music Days in 1981, 1991, 1999, 2001, 2003 and 2005) the characteristic personal styles of all three composers were already firmly developed. Therefore, the common points among all three composers are not the consequence of direct or indirect contacts or influences:3 the reason for their peculiar existence must be sought in the similarity of contextual conditions. This notion can be further enhanced by the special position of all three composers in their own national cultures: Kutavicius, Lebic and Tormis are the most representative and distinguished living composers of their nations. Thus an investigation of their sociocultural and geopolitical context could provide some answers about parallels and similarities. Revealing the Parallels First of all, an attempt should be made to find and expose the parallels that can be found on different levels of compositional technique, material used, formal solutions 1 Martins Boiko, "Balkan and Baltic Vocal Polyphonies: Comparative Aspects", in Singing the Nations: Herder's Legacy, ed. D. Bula, S. Rieuwerts and S. Berzina-Reinsone, 281-285 (Trier: WVT Wissenschaftlicher Verlag, 2008). 2 In a conversation with Lojze Lebic on 27th of August 2012. 3 Rather than concentrating only on the question of direct contacts, we should perhaps investigate more thoroughly the possibility that all three composers were influenced by the same composer. The works of Kutavicius and Lebic, in particular, leave this option open to research, as the music of both composers shows traces of the music of American composer George Crumb (mysticism, circular structures, magical numbers). and aesthetic premises. The most outward-oriented and clear parallel between the three composers concerns the question of genre. It seems that in the 1970s, 1980s and 1990s all three composers found similar solutions: Kutavicius in the cycle of oratorios (Panteistine oratorija [Pantheistic Oratorio], 1970, Paskuntinespagoni-^ apeigos [Last Pagan Rites], 1978, Is jotvingi-^ akmens [From the Jatvingian Stone], 1983, Pasaulio medis [The World Tree], 1986); Lebic in similarly conceived vocal-instrumental works (Hvalnica svetu [Eulogy to the World], 1988, Ajdna, 1995, Miti in apokrifi [Myths and Apocrypha], 1999); and Tormis in choral cycles (Eesti kalendrilaulud [Estonian Calendar Songs], 1967, Unustatud rahvad [Forgotten Peoples], 1970-1989), as well as in some distinguished choral compositions, such as Raua needmine [Curse upon Iron], 1972 and Pikse litaania [Litany to Thunder], 1973. In all cases, the vocal-instrumental compositions take the middle position between oratorio, theatre composition and a kind of mystical liturgical ceremony. Kuitavicius's friend Osvaldas Balakauskas establishes that "from the Pantheistic Oratorio onwards, Kutavicius has been composing some new genre peculiar to himself".4 The problems of genre are complicated on various levels: on the level of content (the special connection between music and text, which often has the character of oracle or conjuration), form (cyclical works, mosaic forms, miniatures) and instrumentation. Kutavicius and Lebic avoid traditional ensembles and are inclined towards original combination of voices and instruments, ranging from traditional orchestral and choral forces to folk or toy instruments. In the oratorio From the Jatvingian Stone, Kutavicius uses a svilpa, a seimele, a straw reed and stones of various sizes, in the cycle From Nearby and Far Away for recorders, Lebic uses an ocarina, a drumlica (Jew's harp) and hanging flower pots, while Tormis also uses a number of folk instruments, including a kantele (psaltery), a Jew's harp, a buzzle, and a frame drum (shaman drum). However, more important than the mere notion of using several folk-specific instruments is the question of the function of these nonstandard instruments: it seems that they are not employed because of their specific colour, or with the aim of enriching the orchestral palette of traditional instruments, but rather because of their associative power. Urve Lippus has already pointed out that Tormis uses such instruments "mainly for particular symbolic functions".5 A similar function to that of non-traditional instruments can be ascribed to the use of non-professional musicians. The vocal soloist in Kutavicius's Last Pagan Rites is not necessarily a professional singer,6 and the same idea can be found in Tormis's piece Litany to Thunder, in which, at the beginning of the solo tenor part, the composer writes that "bel canto is not recommended". This idea is further developed in Lebic's Eulogy to the World, in which the composer employs a variety of instruments (guitars, small drums, triangles, a recorder, an ocarina and a flexatone) played by the singers while singing. The instrumental parts are easy and can be played by virtually anybody; thus the composer introduces the idea of a musically active community of equals, of universality, and therefore also the concept of a musical work as a kind of ritual performed by the participants, eliminating the barrier between performers and spectators. 4 Raminta Lampsatis, Bronius Kutavicius. A Music of Signs and Changes (Vilnius: VAGA Publishers, 1998), 152. 5 Urve Lippus, "Structures and Symbols in Tormis's Music: An introduction to the Estonian Ballads", in Musical Semiotics in Growth, ed. E. Tarasti (Imatra: Indiana University Press, 1996), 495. 6 Raminta Lampsatis, Bronius Kutavicius: A Music of Signs and Changes (Vilnius: VAGA Publishers, 1998), 63. The choice of instruments is therefore linked more closely to the content of these pieces than to their compositional structure. Speaking of content, it is important to recognise that these works are often conceived much like ancient rituals, stemming from national mythology or based on folk material or simulated folk quotations. They are also typified by an inclination towards mysticism and a circular comprehension of time, suggesting a pre-Christian, pagan world. Kutavicius "often reveals in his music even 'pre-folkloric' or 'pantheistic' rudiments representing the birth of folklore from something primeval, in this way as though restoring from relics the whole of a once integral, indivisible national culture, like an 'archaeologist of culture', uncovering those imaginary layers of it hidden 'under' the folklore as foreshadowed in the ancient folk myths".7 Typical is the notion of the "archaeologist," which also frequently arises in discussions of Lebic's music. In fact, Lebic initially studied archaeology at the University of Ljubljana, and one can discern a certain archaeological "logic" in his compositions. Lebic himself draws a comparison between archaeology and his music: "One can understand some splinters in my composition that cry like foreign bodies amid the layers of contemporary sound, similar to archaeological worlds captured in the different layers of soil."8 However, some elements of "archaeology" are evident also in Tormis's conviction that "self-apprehension and self-cognition is vital for maintaining balance and viability. We should know who we are and where our roots lie."9 One of the important layers that frequently mark the music of all three composers is that of folk music. However, the symbolic meaning of the splinters of folk music in Lebic's pieces, or of the more elaborate work with folk melodies in Tormis's choral compositions, is not simply tied to nationalist implications. The best description of Lebic's special approach to folk music can be found in a seemingly unimportant remark in the score of his choral composition Eulogy to the World: a notable segment of the composition, which Lebic later also used in his outstanding symphonic piece Queensland Music (1989), is marked by the composer with the performance description: Impression: archaic, elemental, folkloristic. This comment establishes an interesting and very telling linkage between the folkloristic and the archaic, the folkloristic and something primordial. As Lebic openly admits, what "draws [him] to folk music is first of all prototypes - archetypes that are hidden in it - something that also reveals the specifics of contemporary music".10 In Lebic's work, folk music is elevated from the level of trivial adornment to the level of primordial essence, transhistorical "truth". Something very similar can also be said about Tormis's work with folk music. He regards old Estonian folk songs as "an ancient culture where all the components are combined in structure: the melody, the words, the performance, etc. It also became clear that it is a very old pre-Christian culture which is shamanistic in substance, and extremely close to nature in the ecological sense".11 According to Tormis's conception, ecology, as a seemingly typical contemporary movement, gains a clear transhistorical value. 7 Linas Paulauskis, "Modern Lithuanian Music: An Attempted Survey", New Sound 11 (1998): 16. 8 Lojze Lebič, Od blizu in daleč (Prevalje: Kulturno društvo Mohorjan, 2000), 31. 9 Martin Anderson, "We Should Know Who We Are: Veljo Tormis in Conversation", Tempo 211 (2000), 26. 10 Marjeta Gačeša, "Skladatelj išče človeški glas", in Naši zbori, 49.1 (1999), 4. 11 Anderson, "We Should Know Who We Are ...", 25. The strata of folk or "prehistoric" musical allusions therefore acquire a mythological dimension. In order to further enhance this feeling of something primordial and mythical, the compositions are very often designated as quasi rituals, or at least have very pronounced theatrical elements. Kutavicius's oratorios "are highly theatrical, like reconstructions of ancient folk rituals and ceremonies".12 Similarly, Tormis (in the second part of his Curse upon Iron one can find several instructions for stage actions), although using the very old layers of Estonian folklore, is not interested only in the exploitation of folk material but seeks to bring about a kind of restoration of forgotten forms and rituals. The quest for that which is prehistoric and old cannot, of course, simply be regarded as a fetish for antiquity; it should be seen as a desire to open the vast potential of symbolic meanings. Metaphorically speaking, opening towards ancient rituals and theatrical gestures does not speak about the national past, but more about its roots, and therefore about the contemporary status of the Lithuanian, Slovene and Estonian nations. Similar symbolic potential should also be ascribed to the sometimes very specific and graphic notation that is characteristic of Kutavicius. However, circular designs or graphic indications resembling something ritualistic, old and mystical can also be Example 1: Symphony with Organ, first page of the score. 12 Paulauskis, "Modern Lithuanian Music ...", 16. Example 2: Climax from Lebic's piece Tangram. found in Lebic's scores. Very specific is Lebic's notation of folk-like quotations, which are notated in circular schemes (Example 6) that are associated with the circular motion of time and life and have no other clear musical importance. Similar mysticism is also awakened in the opening section of Simfonija z orglami (Symphony with Organ), with the quotation of the choral theme: in his handwritten score, the composer inserts the image of the original choral notation (Example 1). A close graphic relationship between the music and its notation is also typical of the two pages at the climax of Lebic's piece Tangram (1977) for chamber orchestra: facing sides of the score are conceived like a mirror, with a slanting line indicating the gradual thickening/thinning of the orchestral texture (Example 2). The piling up of various symbolic and mystical allusions is, of course, echoed in the musical substance, its development and form. It is typical of all three composers that these remote "worlds" are musically depicted with a kind of blend of modernist and archetypal procedures; paradoxically, all three composers try to establish the musical language of some prehistoric tribes (perhaps only imagined or already forgotten) by combining innovative and traditional procedures. Their works could therefore be stylistically labelled as postmodern. The most typical procedure is "parallel constructing"13 or "double coding"14: the composers combine the emancipated mod- 13 Brian McHale, Postmodernist Fiction (New York and London: Methnen, 1987). Brian McHale, Constructing Postmodernism (London and New York: Routledge, 1992). 14 Charles Jencks, Jezikpostmoderne arhitekture (Beograd: Vuk Karadžic, 1985). ernist sound world with allusions to folk music, ancient models or even popular music. The typical repetitiveness of the works of Kutavičius and Tormis - which is often labelled as a Baltic stream of American minimal music, but is in fact a derivation of Baltic folk music - can also be found in some Lebič's work; for example, in the aforementioned climax of Tangram, where the basic pulse is presented by the rhythm played by the flower pots (Example 2), although here the repetitiveness stems from ironising the "new age" movement and soft rock pulsation. Rather than being their weak point, the heterogeneity of these works is their central goal: it awakes the associative and therefore the semantic potential of music. Analysis of Selected Works The continuation will present an analysis of selected works by Kutavičius, Lebič and Tormis that can serve as the best examples of the aforementioned connections and parallels. Last Pagan Rites (1978) is the piece by Bronius Kutavičius that gained a lot of international acclaim although it is paradoxically very firmly rooted in the context of Lithuanian history. The work is conceived as an oratorio for a women's choir, children's choir, a vocal soloist whose voice does not have to be trained in classical singing, an organ and Lithuanian folk horns ragai (in consecutive performances they were often replaced by regular French or Alpine horns). The content of the oratorio is connected with the transition from paganism to Christianity which took in Lithuania place from 12th to 14th Century. This context defines also the instrumentation: horns or ragai as symbol of Lithuanian primordiality play in the first of four movements and organ as metaphor for Christianity only in the last movement. Of course the repression of organ, Christianity can be understood also metaphorically as repression of Soviet regime. The ritualistic character of the piece is further enhanced in the positioning of the performers which sit around the audience what creates the sense of circular motion of the sound, moving around the audience which is immersed into the music/sound. Kutavičius compositional technique employed in Last Pagan Rites is fairly simple and was often characterised as a kind of Baltic minimalism but in fact Kutavičius used folkloristic procedure of sutartine - Lithuanin singing in canon in intervals of seconds. The composition therefore combines very heterogenous elements: folkloristic procedures, combined with minimalistic pulse, traditional folk instruments, modernistic idea of moving the sound in space, of interest is also special notation with a lot symbolic undertones. Typical combining of modernist and pre-modernist, predominantly archaic, musical worlds with harmonic clusters, aleatoric procedures and various vocal in instrumental effects on the one hand and repetition, simulation of folk-like fragments, and formalised gradations on the other hand can be found in Lebič's large-scale composition Ajdna (1995), which is actually built from the choral cycle V tihem šelestenju časa... (In the Silent Rustle of Time...) based on poems by Gregor Strniša and combined with the cycle Od blizu in daleč (From Nearby and Far Away) for solo recorders and ¿.ft, , m ilutfe Example 3: Score for the "Incantation of the Serpent" from the Last Pagan Rites. an assistant. The title itself reveals the world of prehistory - Ajdna15 is the name of an archaeological site from late antiquity - and the seven movements of the piece for recorders are named after folk songs, although the composer does not actually use any folk material; crucial is the specific use of the recorders, which are often treated like the prehistoric Mousterian bone flute, supposedly the oldest known musical instrument, which was discovered in Divje babe in Slovenia. The initial idea was that the composition could be played at the archaeological site, and would be therefore perceived as a kind of ritual. This idea was latter rejected, but the initial concept found its way into the form and content of Ajdna. Lebic wanted to depict the musical-mystical landscape of ancient, pre-Christian times, but his solutions go beyond historical truthfulness. 15 The name cannot be translated, but it is derived from the root "ajd", meaning "pagan". Seven solo compositions for recorders and four choral compositions are arranged in a dramatic sequence that begins with the essential questions of our existence (Where are we when we were,/ Where will we be when we no longer are?) and, after a dance of death, ends with redemptive knowledge. This structure is musically paralleled with a path that leads from total chromaticism to modal diatonic harmony. However, Lebic bridges both "worlds" by combining them in a single scale that can be used either as a twelve-tone series or as modal stock (Example 4): Example 4: Basic scale/series for Ajdna (the marked tones are the main notes of the choral part). The title of the seven recorder pieces From Nearby and Far Away can be understood literally or metaphorically: the composer often plays with a dialogue between nearby and distant sounds (this can be achieved with the aid of an assistant, or by playing in different registers or with different instrumental techniques), as well as between ancient musical models and modernist procedures. From the formal point of view, the recorder pieces are modelled by the logic of a mosaic. However, the overall impression is that of homogenous uniformity, which is achieved by repeating the basic material ideas. The pieces move between different worlds: the distant, "pagan" world and the world of new music. The former is suggested by the use of parallel fifths (in "The Serpent Prince" the musician simultaneously sings and plays, thereby producing organum fifths), by the assistant playing on folk instruments, and by basic formal models (symmetry in "The Serpent Prince", two-part form in "Children Changed into Birds", rondo in "Mist is Falling"); meanwhile, the world of new music is represented by the extended instrumental techniques (whistling, singing, multiphonics, aleatoric intrusions, playing on the mouthpiece, glissandos, etc.) and by the occasional dense chromaticism. However, these two worlds are never wholly separated, with the best example of connections between the ancient and the new being represented by the pitch material for "Mist is Falling", a tone row consisting of eleven chromatic pitches, which are used segmentally, thus producing a more modal impression: The same interplay between ancient and new is denoted by the four choral compositions, which also bring additional ritual and theatrical elements. The first piece, "From Time Immemorial" begins fragmentarily with quiet whisperings, jerky inhalations, murmurs and some harmonics built around the central tone E. Later, the texture becomes more chromatic and the distributions of tones can be connected to the basic tone row. After this chaotic, all-encompassing chromatic world has been established, Lebic introduces the idea of ritual in the next piece, "Mosaics". The whole piece consists of three layers. With the production of harmonics on the tone E, the four soloists content choir (In the Silent Rustle ef Time...) recorders (From Nearby and Far Away) captivity in the magic circle of life "Iz veka vekov"/ "From Time Immemorial" "Ptičica svarilka"/ "The Warning Bird" "Kačji kralj ič"/ "The Serpent Prince" withdrawal from an isolated state of captivity "Mozaiki"/ "Mosaics" f e orsoim "w zj S l — — j " "Otroci uk-lete ptice"/ "Children Changed into Birds" "Meglice dol popadajo" / "Mist is Falling" fervent appeal to nature "Iz kamna v vodi"/ "From the Stone in the Water" "Godec pred peklom"/ "The Fiddler at the Gates of Hell" redemptive knowledge "Pesem o smrti"/ "Song of Death" Se že svita, bo dan"/ "It Is Dawn, the Day Is Beginning" <5-Ti g C: iT s a 3 F Example 5: Tone row and its segmentation in the piece "Mist is Falling". establish a pedal point and strike handheld instruments (triangles or antique cymbals) at appropriate intervals, while the processional character is further enhanced by moving through the hall (their role is to maintain a floating presence of the tone E in the space). Two basses and tenors sing the choral melody alla gregoriano in canon in fifths, while the rest of choir, along with the synthesizer, slowly establish a harmonic "curtain". Harmonically, the B section, sung by the choir, is built of fourths and fifths, and is therefore clearly associated with the Medieval art of organum. At the climax, it gives way to a succession of triads. Part A and B are then repeated and followed by a coda. If "Mosaics" can be understood as quiet, contemplative, ritual meditation, the piece "From the Stone in the Water" sounds more like a rhythmically accentuated incantation dominated by several waves of gradation and the obsessive use of various ostinatos. Another facet is brought by the last choral piece "Song of Death", which begins with a canon in eight voices. The continuation of the piece is marked by repetitive patterns in the marimba and vibraphone, as well as intrusions of simulations of folk songs. Lebič clearly states that, "in the piece there are no quotations, [...] what gives the impression of the quotation is taken from the composer's imagination".16 In the midst of modernist textures, the isolated islands of allusions function as triggers of semantic associations connected with the images of the prehistoric, the primordial, the natural, the archetypal and the magic. Of further interest, however, is Lebič's notation of the folk-like quotations, which are notated in circular schemes that are associated with the circular motion of time and life, with no clear musical significance. The texture is further thickened by ostinato patterns, and after the climax composer builds a kind of recapitulation: the melody of the canon is repeated, this time in unison, and the texture becomes thicker, filled with simulated quotations of folk songs heard before, but this time executed simultaneously. After all of the voices have joined in, a long decrescendo follows and the singers gradually leave the stage one by one with "ritual steps". The singing dissolves behind the stage and the stage lights slowly fade out. The choral pieces are also clearly torn between the ancient and the contemporary, a dichotomy that is achieved with musical and theatrical means. Hints of organum, choral chanting, folk song quotations, traditional polyphony and singing in canon are confronted with dense chromaticism, clusters, extended vocal techniques and aleato-ric sections, as well as echoes of almost trivial, repetitive minimal music. With the additional aid of certain stage actions and the manipulation of the sound in space, Lebič comes close to a ritual that simulates ancient, pagan times, only in order to enhance the central existential questions of our time. 16 Lojze Lebič, Ajdna (Celje: Mohorjeva družba, 1996). Tr - ka, tr - ka, noc in dan, po ve - ji, ki je nivec tam. Example 6: Simulated quotations of folk songs. Almost the same characteristics can be ascribed also to Tormis' famous choral piece Curse upon Iron written for women's or men's choir, two solo voices and shaman drum. It is the first piece in which the composer used verses of regilaul from Finnish national epic Kalevala.17 The story about the birth of iron is derived from the ninth canto of Kalevala and the form of the piece is based on the logic of regilaul. The composition is build out of two melodic ideas - the verses of cursing or addressing the iron in a recitative-like manner alternate with the verses of telling its origin in more melodic developed line comprising a narrow span of minor third (the first one is derived from the second). The whole piece is pervaded with incantations and ritualistic atmosphere, the form consist of carefully proportioning of larger blocks differing in texture, dynamics and tension which lead to a central climax where the predominant archaic, repetitive patterns dissolve in an "avant-garde" section with glissandos, clusters, talking and screaming. This climax is reserved also for some theatrical gestures that should be performed by choroists: in the score we read that all choroists should "bend suddenly at the knees", show "gesture of fright", cower the faces and turn the heads to the right or left. It is clear that Tormis is also mixing different stylistic and compositional elements - Curse upon Iron can be understood as allusion to the prehistoric time, as restoration of some ancient ritual but on the other hand the repetitiveness of the structure and simple melodic cells come close to minimalism meanwhile the central climax resembles the modernistic speech compositions. Yet again the simulated historic, ancient style is employed "as a means of discussing allegorically the present time (life and people in general)".18 17 Urve Lippus, "Magnum Opus: Veljo Tormis, 'Curse Upon Iron' - Analytical Study", in Ancient Song Recovered: The Life and Music of Veljo Tormis, ed. Mimi S. Daitz (Hillsdale: Pendragon Press, 2004). 18 Ibid., 154. Example 7: Two "melodic" lines in Curse upon Iron. Concluding Remarks The analysis of selected pieces confirms a surprisingly high number of parallels between the music of Kutavičius, Lebič and Tormis. These could be condensed in a list of common points: - it is difficult to ascribe works by Kutavičius, Lebič and Tormis to one of the traditional genres: their pieces are often torn between several genres, mixing vocal genres with theatrical, liturgical and instrumental genres; - they often use non-traditional instruments (folk instruments, toys, sounding objects); - typical is the use of non-professional musicians playing on some handheld instruments or playing basic figures on traditional instruments that can be learned by virtually anybody; - the character of their works is often ritualistic; - musical actions are often developed into scenic gestures, causing their compositions to come close to theatre pieces; - hints of folk music, either original or simulated, are also characteristic; - in its graphic design, the notation can be a bearer of symbolic meanings (circular structures, ancient notation types, notation in the shapes of symbolic elements); - the idea of sound in space is important, with the musicians often moving in space and thus engulfing the audience in sound, which further enhances the idea of ritual, in which there is no division between performers and spectators; - all three composers try to present unknown music from an imaginary ancient past; - all of them use a very broad stylistic palette, with which they stimulate various allusions: their music is stylistically heterogeneous, which is a typical characteristic of postmodern music. Having established and highlighted these common points, our goal must be to try to find the reasons for such a large number of parallels. Our perspective must therefore be turned from text to context. All three composers lived in multinational countries (the Soviet Union and Yugoslavia), in which their own nations still longed for their own, independent national states. Lithuania, Estonia and Slovenia tried to establish their national identities during the time of the national spring in the 19th Century (basic national institutions - among them also musical institutions - were created19); in 19 Marcello Potocco, Nacionalni imaginariji, literarni imaginariji (Ljubljana: Pedagoški inštitut, http://193.2.222.157/Sifranti/ StaticPage.aspx?id=123 (21. 2. 2013)), 112, Urve Lippus, "Baltic Music History Writing: Problems and Perspectives", in Acta Musicologica 71, št. 1 (1999), vol. 71/1, 52. the 20th Century, however, their national feelings were, after a short period of independence, again suppressed (in the Baltic states due to so-called "Russification" and in Yugoslavia through the doctrine of "brotherhood and unity"). Therefore, even in the second half of 20th century, Lithuania, Slovenia and Estonia were small countries (Lithuania, the largest of the three countries, has 3 million inhabitants, while the smallest, Estonia, has just over 1 million inhabitants) with relatively low possibilities of being presented as sovereign, "historical" nations. Furthermore, all three countries belonged to the Eastern Block, which was politically dominated by communist totalitarianism, a political arrangement that left its footprints in all forms of social life, including in culture, where the doctrine of socialist realism dictated the choices of style, artistic technique, content and material. These specific coordinates, which marked the artistic development of Kutavicius, Lebic and Tormis were in stark contrast to the situation on the other side of the iron curtain. Kutavicius, Lebic and Tormis belonged to nations without strong national self-confidence, and with a very weak tradition of art music; moreover, the doctrine of socialist realism was hostile to modernism, which, in the West, was breaking the last links with the remnants of the traditional musical "language". All three composers were therefore faced with similar dilemmas: how to preserve their own personal musical identity and the musical identity of their nations amid the cultural-political claims for general intelligibility. Bearing these contextual coordinates in mind, one can interpret the strong inclination towards the ritualization of their pieces, the use of folk instruments as well as original or simulated folk material, and recourse to ancient, pagan times. The quest for simulating the music from some ancient past hence functions as the essence of national identity: national roots are firmly anchored in pagan prehistory. It is typical that nations such as Lithuania, Slovenia and Estonia, which had not firmly established their national identities in the 19th century, should search for their national symbols and heroes in a distant, prehistoric time. Kutavicius's music and ideas were understood as "a manifesto or declaration of independence for the Lithuanian people",20 while Tormis's music "was an important repository of ethnic identity".21 However, the mystical prehistoric time, overlaid with mysterious symbols, the circular comprehension of time, the ritual actions and gestures, and the special quasi "liturgical" logic fulfils another task, which is related to the absence of religious freedom in socialist countries: Kutavicius, Lebic and Tormis establish a kind of liturgy that had no association with Christianity and was therefore not suspicious for local censors. However, this process of "ritualization" should be regarded in close connection to the vague employment of genre and a closeness to theatrical forms. The uncertainty -concerning the genre and the mixed form, which crossed the bridges between vocal and instrumental music, absolute music and theatre - covered the essence and social content of these pieces: they could be understood as a harmless, playful and even na- 20 Inga Jankauskiene, "The Role of Text in Meaning Formation", in Musical Semiotics in Growth, ed. E. Tarasti (Imatra: Indiana University Press, 1996), 499. 21 Anderson, "We Should Know Who We Are ...", 24. Urve Lippus is even more specific: "In Estonia Tormis's music has fulfilled two related ideological functions: (a) supporting the identity of a member of the Estonian community by suggesting the feeling of participation in an ancient ritual, showing the authentic or 'right' way of life [...]; and (b) supporting the ideas of environmental movements by the singing of songs of pre-Christian traditional community ("Structures and Symbols", 487-488). ive confrontation with the distant past, and not as potent political statements, which is what they actually were. The mixed genres and stylistic heterogeneity, perhaps even eclecticism, gave the composers another opportunity: they offered a way out of socialist realism. The paralleling of modernist and traditional (in many cases also archetypal) techniques, forms and procedures could be understood as a "soft" opening to the radical modernism of Western Europe. The typical postmodern procedures (quotation, simulation, palimpsest, parallel constructions, stylistic diversity, semantic charge) that can be found in the works of Kutavicius, Lebic and Tormis should therefore be understood differently to similar procedures used by postmodern composers in the United States and in the rest of Europe. Whereas postmodernism in the West offered the possibility of surpassing the rigidity and hermeticism of modernism, in Eastern Europe it also provided a way to tackle some modernist techniques that, in connection with non-modernist procedures, ensured semantic comprehensibility, and were therefore not politically suspicious. The central characteristic of these pieces could be therefore labelled as masking -on the surface harmless symbols carried also politically meaningful connotations. This is true also of sacral content of aforementioned pieces by Kutavicius, Lebic and Tormis: they reveal sacral gestures but these are in fact profaned - they are employed for the awakening of national feelings and identity. POVZETEK Primerjava skladateljskih opusov in poetik treh skladateljev 20. stoletja, ki pripadajo isti generaciji - litovski skladatelj Bronisu Kutavičius (1932), slovenski skladatelj Lojze Lebič (1934) in estonski skladatelj Veljo Tormis (1930) - izdaja nenavadno veliko podobnosti. V delih vseh treh skladateljev ni mogoče spregledati izrazite nagnjenosti h glasbeno ritualnemu, pogoste uporabe ljudskih glasbil, ideje krožnega časa, ki je razvidna tudi iz notacijskega nivoja, ter neke vrste simulacije ljudske glasbe nekakšnega umišljenega predz-godovinskega časa. Takšne paralele vzbujajo vprašanja o njihovih razlogih, ki so povezani s socialno-politično situacijo v državah, v katerih so vsi trije skladatelji živeli in ustvarjali. Litva, Estonija in Slovenija so sodile kot del Sovjetske zveze oz. Jugoslavije na političnem zemljevidu v Vzhodni blok. Kar pomeni, da so vsi trije skladatelji prišli v stik s socialističnim realizmom, ki je brutalno vstopil tudi v domeno umetnosti. Zato je nemogoče razločevati slogovne spremembe v sedemdesetih in osemdesetih letih 20. stoletja od želje po politični in ideološki osvoboditvi. Hkrati z vedno bolj močnimi ideja o prestopanju rigidnih dogem socialističnega realizma pa so postajale vedno glasnejše tudi misli o smiselnosti hermetizma in želje po radikalni in konstantni inovaciji, ki je bila značilna za modernizem. Vsi trije skladatelji so v podobni situaciji reagirali na podoben način - iskali so mistično in sakralno glasbo predzgo-dovinskih ljudstev, ki je lahko služila kot sprožilka močnih nacionalnih čustev. UDK 783(474.3) DOI: 10.4312/mz.50.2.127-135 Julija Jonane Jazeps Vitols Latvian Academy of Music, Department of Musicology Latvijska akademija za glasbo Jazepsa Vitolsa, Oddelek za muzikologijo Sacred Music - a Forbidden Fruit: Musical and Non-musical Ways of Survival Duhovna glasba - prepovedani sad: Glasbeni in neglasbeni načini preživetja Prejeto: 2. januar 2013 Sprejeto: 27. marec 2013 Ključne besede: zgodovina duhovne glasbe, latvijska glasba, sovjetska glasba Izvleček Prepoved duhovne glasbe v obdobju sovjetske Lat-vije je sprožila pojav »prepovedanega sadu«. Prikrito in skrivaj je bila kršena na različne načine in v nenavadnih oblikah, med katerimi sta najpomembnejši prenos v posvetne žanre in uporaba skrajnih kompozicijskih sredstev. Ponovno branje besedil bo pripomoglo k podrobnejšemu razumevanju razvoja duhovne glasbe v Latviji in drugih deželah. Received: 2nd January 2013 Accepted: 27th March 2013 Keywords: Sacred music history, Latvian music, Soviet music Abstract Prohibition of sacred music during the period of Soviet Latvia was exerted like a syndrome of forbidden fruit, that was breached in the underground way and developed in secret and complicated forms, in which the central is secular music genres' and radical musical language's using. A re-reading of texts will lead to a more nuanced understanding of the development of sacred music in Latvia and other countries. The development of sacred music can be characterized as a societal phenomenon, as well as a phenomenon within the flow of time — it reveals itself as a social manifestation over the course of time. In the creation of professional sacred music, several distinct factors play an important role. The first and foremost of these is the religiousness of the composer, which is usually the reason behind the creation of a sacred opus. A second meaningful factor is the level of interest held by the performers and listeners, which in a broader and deeper sense can be considered as the religiousness of society. Because of it a sacred composition lives and takes effect in time and place, not just as a score written on paper. The unifying prerequisite of these two factors is the loyalty of the social system that enables religious music to survive and develop within a nation. Sacred music in denominationally inhomogeneous Latvia exists for nearly 140 years. The beginning of its formation dates back to the last three decades of the 19th century. Upon evaluating the results of compiled facts and analysis in the historical overview, one can see three most significant stages of development in Latvian religious music: The first period is slow, smooth stage of sacred music's development that begins at the end of the 19th century and lasts to the 1930's. This time is marked by appearance of religious genres in professional Latvian music. The most important sacred genres gradually entry into the output of the first Latvian composers (prayers, hymns, psalms, cantatas and oratorios), that reach the first peak of achievement in the works of almost all composers of this time. Significantly, that all musicians who lived and worked at the end of the 19th and the beginning of the 20th century (among them composers, conductors, organists, teachers and workshop leaders) belonged to the Evangelical Lutheran Church. And this affiliation has defined the number of sacred genres. The language of sacred music practically does not differ from that of secular music. However, in religious music an especial expression is formed, which might be called religious mood, piousness and exaltation, which is manifested mostly in sweet and sentimental sounds, elegiac expressions or opposite to that - in hymn-like or pathetic character. This religious sweet mood is diversified by different composition in apocalyptic sense. Practically all of them were written in time of about 1905, 1917 or 19391940 - during those years Latvians fought for independence or felt the approach of World Wars. The second period lasts from 1940's to 1980's and essentially marks a situation of crisis. The existence of religious music takes place outside Latvia's boundaries. Religious moods are expressed within territory of Latvia in a disguised way or with compositions that are revealed fully only in the next historical stage. And the third period of development of the sacred music in Latvia begins at the end of the 20th century - and lasts until nowadays. This is a time of rapid quantitative and qualitative development. Latvian sacred music quickly emerges as a leading realm after long forgotten and forbidden years. Included are genres from the first stage of development, and others, especially canonical genres of the Roman Catholic and Russian Orthodox Church. At first, almost all composers pursue sacred music in some kind of fashion style, but later (at the beginning of the 21st century) composers which write sacred music are less, notwithstanding they have found in this sphere their musical language and mission. The stages of religious music history correspond to another history of music development - they are determined to a large extent by history itself. It must be noted that the second and third stages of development of religious music contrast dramatically, because the ideology and mood at the time left an extremely different impression. In the first case - in the second period - the survival of sacred music with modest possibilities. And the third period has very rapid, almost explosive character of development. In this way, current guidelines in the development of Latvian sacred music are generally equal to those of the world's religious music tendencies (both in terms of genre functionality and musical expression), having been achieved gradually as a re- sult of non-prohibitional evolution. Also the forgetting and ignoring of religious music during Soviet times is a sign that this sphere within the general cultural context is not self-sufficient, but rather an indicator of the society, national awareness and other situ-ational conditions. But, accordingly to the object of research, I focus on the second period of sacred music development in Latvia. Since 1944 Latvian culture, comprising that of music, underwent some kind of not only geographical, but also thematic decomposition. In other words, music developed within two separate realms or territories, which were created by composers, who lived in the territory of Soviet Latvia, and those composers, who owing to the political situation in 1944 had immigrated to other countries. This fact directly affected the state of sacred music. It largely owes its deficit has offset by the composers in exile, most of whom had found their refuge and work under the auspice of churches in the more democratic countries (included Australia, Canada, Germany, Great Britain, Sweden, United States of America etc.). Actually, every composer who lived abroad, feeling homesick, longing for relief, shelter and peace, seeking for some kind of eternal homeland and refuge, focused on sacred music genres and themes. Prohibition of sacred music in the territory of Soviet Latvia has achieved a syndrome of forbidden fruit. Being neither composed, nor performed, this particular music sphere theoretically was missing in Latvian music culture under Soviets, but not practically. The prohibition of the sacred music did not mean ignoring this sphere at all. In the 60s and the 70s of 20th century this resulted in various ways of non-compliance to the above prohibition which were effected in the most disguised and inconspicuous forms, through the presenting secular music genres alongside with radical and modern language of music, or contrariwise - creating music in very simple way. However, to trace these elements at the period in question one had to be very competent in the field of music. It is no secret that there is a number of ways to make secular music sounds sacred. Re-reading of texts both musical and non-musical, associated with these ways, will definitely provide for a more accurate and nuanced understanding of the development of sacred music in Latvia and other countries at the time when owing to all kinds of religion being persecuted, the sphere of sacred music was considered undesirable. First of all, the deficiency of religiousness was substituted by such universal and in Soviet System's proposed categories and persons like art, motherland, work and peace, Lenin, Stalin etc. Such were the particular ethic and humanistic values, which were most cultivated, adored and glorified in those long-ago days. Nowadays some compositions from this period are still popular because of their musicality and emotionality and thereby transcend both the epoch and regime. For example, in 1970 Imants Kalnins (*1941), a popular Latvian composer, wrote a song for mixed choir To Lenin. This composition was very popular during the Soviet time -owing to its patriotism, emotional straightforwardness and the lyrics by very popular poet in Latvia - Imants Ziedonis (1933-2013) as well. In such a way a very intense emotional directness of the above verses sacralized and glorified the image of the leader of the Communistic Party, this man. At the very end of this song after the final cadence we can see and hear additional phrase with word which makes some kind of mantra "Lenin! Lenin! Lenin!" (see Example 1) and can be perceived as sacral "Amen! Amen! Amen!". Also the title To Lenin was selected to make this song popular, to let it be sung during the National Song Festivals as well as in every patriotic concert and meeting. Poetry has made an impressive musical input in the patriotic anthem-like song form with elements of march, unified rhythmical mods and block chord texture. Example 1: Imants Kalninš: To Lenin. Therefore, when Latvia regained independence, this song despite of the altered political situation has still remained recognized and popular. Only now its title has been changed. Nowadays the above song is called Shoots because of the introductory wording: Shoots get rooted in the stone and it cracks. And the white lightening is born into the air of thunder. And a valiant man is climbing in the higher, There is victorious word in his mouth: Lenin! Lenin! Lenin! Nowadays this composition has acquired some kind of halation; hence one can deduce that it has been to some extent sacralized. Fifty years of the Soviet period have threatened not only sacred music, but also the whole Latvian culture in general, including folklore, traditions and language. To preserve it Latvian artists tried to do their utmost, referring to such means as the speech of Aesop. The use of Aesop's speech or, in other words, the hidden subtext reveals the true idea of the particular composition or other creation of art, which is otherwise artistically disguised and encrypted. Thus, only competent and prepared listeners can understand the true idea of the musical setting. This issue was the object of research by Latvian and Jewish musicologist Joachim Braun (1929-2013)1. But now we use this notion very frequently. In such a way alongside with the ideological slogan of the Communistic Party the composer also focuses on such notions as freedom, independence and national identity. A bright example of Aesop's speech is found in the score of the nocturne Ir tikai nakts/It's Only the Night by Romualds Jermaks (*1931) that was composed in 1968. This opus is dedicated to J. S. Bach and is full of allusion of his stylistic. However, in generally idyllic texture the Protestant Church chorale Wer nur den lieben Gott lasst walten is entwined (in English - What makes God the only Lord in Heaven; Example 2). Wer nur den lieben Gott la esst walten u i. „ . I . tJ -J- l.Wcr mir Jeu 9 ik'n wird jt4ii.^l'I-Iijn itj ul, lIlt Ii:j. Min" kui - rnjn S:-rni:3 lv - hunl Example 2: Protestant Church chorale Wer nur den lieben Gott lässt walten 1 Joachim Braun, "Raksti. Studies. Schriften." in Muzika Latvija. Music in Latvia. Music in Lettland. (Riga: Musica Baltica, 2002): 204-227. MUZIKOLOSKI ZBORNIK • MUSICOLOGICAL ANNUAL L/2 Ir rikai nakts Jll 'T^ T T^lll- 'J ''''','-'.I Largo ill rnoko # = ip Example 3: Romualds Jermaks-. Ir tikai nakts (It's Only the Night), mm. 1-15. In such a way, through the contemplation of the genius of Baroque, the Latvian composer essentially follows in his footsteps, complementing this as to the title secular opus with a chorale setting (Example 3). He goes even further, choosing the forbidden melodic basis and the true ideas of the composition - among them faith, God as the only Lord and religion as forbidden fruit. Thereby, this example also shows the amount of attention paid to the musical oeuvre of J. S. Bach in this period who's music overall is sacred - in spite of the secular or profane themes of his compositions. And during the Soviet time the true idea of this composition could understand only Evangelical Lutherans, which kept silent all this time until the end of the 20th century. Aesop's speech widely spread as a means of revealing the true, but hidden essence of music pieces also in the 60s and the 70s of the 20th century. Many composers wrote their music to little- or non-understandable lyrics - equivalent to Latin, which is often perceived as a church language and shows an indirect tendency of sacralization process. But this language during the Soviet time was unwelcome, because of it's using in Roman Catholic Church, so composers should write to other language - in Old French and Old Italian. For example, Margeris Zarins (1910-1993) in Partita in stile of Baroque (for Mez-zosoprano, instruments; 1963) has chosen poetry by Pierre Ronsard and Francoise Villon in Old French. Likewise, Pauls Dambis (1936), another Latvian composer, has made use of the poetry by Michelangelo in Old Italian for his oratorio Stanza di Michelangelo (for mixed choir, organ/string orchestra; 1971) and verses by Shakespeare in Old English for his composition Music of Shakespeare (for MS, piano, flute, cello; 1976). In such a way composers wanted to make their music textually more non-understandable, to alienate the text from the audience - especially from the Soviet government. The effect on the audience was very unusual and exceptional, because the text was perceived in the same way as texts in Latin were mostly perceived by Latvians in church services in past - they didn't understand it in details and didn't want to try to do it. In this way music acquired some nuance of inscrutability, mystery and sacredness. Especially bold composers dared to write sacred genres, filled with a pronounced secular expression. However, in depth these compositions have preserved the mission of genres and alongside with it - spirituality and sacredness. One can find a synthesis of the traditional language of church music with contemporary and very radical musical means of expression, used outside the church traditions, thus largely determining the primary or secondary construction principles of music genres. In this respect the Concert-requiem by Pauls Dambis is a very remarkable example. This opus, written in 1967 for two boys' voices, two mixed choirs, bells and organ, is based on the verses of Latvian poet Imants Lasmanis (1937-1974). Concert-requiem is dedicated to Those Fallen in the Second World War. So, in this composition the author has synthesized liturgical pro defunctis cycle with an idea of concerto. This has resulted in some kind of hybrid of two music genres, features of which are unmistakably evident. The genre of the requiem is reflected through the titles. In the four-part composition three parts present the most characteristic headings of the requiem - Requiem aeternam, Lacrimosa, Dies irae. But in contrast to the cycle of the requiem, where the Lacrimosa part logically concludes the Dies irae sequence, Pauls Dambis combines these movements freely, in line with the contrast principle of the concert genre. However, despite the fact that lyrics were taken from Latvian poetry, it is just the titles, which provide for the emotional code of the requiem. The dramatic nature and expression of the requiem are achieved by means of multiform, bold and valiant musical language. For example, the first part is full of such ele- ments of psalmody and sonority as wailing of despair and sorrow, screaming, speech, whispers and vocalizing. The function of the slow movement reveals itself in the second part - Lacrimosa. The lyricism of the day of tears is expressed by lament intonations of boys' voices, silent dynamics, and the delicate texture of two mixed choirs. Dies irae - the third part is a diabolic scherzo in the metrical step of a march. The final fourth part Reminiscenza is created in a different way - as a synthetic compilation of the preceding movements, concluding the composition with a rather optimistic mood and with belief that ideas and deeds never die, that they are alive and eternal, and such will remain. The four-part structure of the cycle, being devoid of the logical sections of the requiem movements is created in line with the traditional symphonic model. The presence involvement of two mixed choirs and organ is based on the idea of the concert genre: the concertante effect is achieved by means of antiphonal texture of choirs, choirs and organ alternating and organ cadenza at the end of the first part. The untypical interpretation of the traditional sacred genre calls for a different explanation. In the 60s of the 20th century the only possibility to opt for the genre of sacred music (with significant changes and preserving the idea of the requiem) was paying tribute to Those Fallen in the Second World War. But, presumably, nowadays the dedication of this composition does not impede listening to it in order to find its sacred meaning. Furthermore, the choice of the synthesis of two music genres could be attributed to the dualism of the whole work. The dramaturgical order of the movements points first of all to the idea of the symphony. So, maybe the composer added the word Concert to the title of this particular composition to underline its deeper hidden meaning - concert as a theatrical performance, show and allegory? Additionally, the Concert-requiem by Pauls Dambis was a very popular composition of the Soviet time. From 1967 it was performed more than 300 times - almost two times weekly in Riga's Dome Cathedral for different tourists, prominent persons and other listeners, who wanted to enjoy the one of the biggest organ in Europe and one of the popular choir (State choir "Latvia") in Soviet Union as well. But, presumably, this kind of popularity was provoked not only by dedication to Those Fallen, but also by choosing the genre of sacred music. The above two factors, possibly, intrigued the audience, so to say, quenching thirst for spirituality and sacred music genres in those days, when they were prohibited, and with contemporary musical language that is non-traditional in the field of sacred music creating. However, in spite of prohibition and tabu, many different denominations (among them Evangelical Lutherans, Roman Catholics, Russian Orthodox, Old-Believers, Baptists etc.) continued to exist illegally survived under Soviets, thus enabling and favouring the emerging of sacred music genres which reached a real upswing later at the end of the 20th century, and nowadays made very multiflorous denominational panorama of sacred music. Thus it must be said, that the evolution of Latvian sacred music shows a rapid, dynamic, serious and successful growth. In a historically brief period of time it has achieved what has taken much longer in other cultures. In approximately 140 years, it has encompassed from sacred choral a cappella miniatures to various denominations genres - Lutheran cantatas and oratorios, Catholic masses and motets, as well as Ortho- dox liturgies and all-night services. Being conscious of the richness of sacred genres, composers have begun to look at them more deeply and widely - experimenting with sacred music models, combining various genre elements, including musical language and expression and performers that are less characteristic of sacred music, etc. However, in the most interesting and complicated way Latvian composers have used above-mentioned elements at the time when sacred music genre was prohibited. In conclusion I would like to underline, that almost all above referred composers -Pauls Dambis, Imants Kalnins and Margeris Zarins, except Romualds Jermaks - were interested in sacred music only during the period of the Soviet Union's forbiddance. When Latvia has regained the independence, these composers didn't want to use this forbidden fruit's elements in their inputs and to compose sacred genres at all, while the others started to create sacred music outright. Such a circumstance in musical oeuvre of these composers justifies the thesis that the forbidden fruit is the sweetest. POVZETEK Prispevek opazuje različne načine, na katere so sakralne prvine pronicale v posvetno glasbo sovjetske Latvije (1945-1990). Prepoved duhovne glasbe je povzročila sindrom prepovedanega sadeža. Prepoved so v šestdesetih in sedemdesetih letih 20. stoletja vedno znova obšli. Pri tem so razvili zapletene in prikrite načine, med katerimi sta bila najpogostejša uporaba posvetnih glasbenih oblik in radikalno novega glasbenega jezika. Takrat je kršitve prepoznal le zelo kompetenten poslušalec. Posvetna glasba je bila sakralizirana na več načinov: • Najpogosteje je bila odsotnost duhovnosti nadomeščena z univerzalnimi kategorijami, kot so umetnost, domovina, delo, mir. Prav te etične in humanistične vrednote so bile negovane in oboževane. • Pojavila se je težnja k drugačnemu govoru. Mnogi skladatelji so uglasbili besedila v slabo, ali celo večini nerazumljivem jeziku - večinoma latinščini (ki je sploh veljala za cerkveni jezik in kaže na odkrito težnjo k sakralizaciji), pa tudi v stari francoščini ali stari italijanščini. • Ezopov jezik je vzporednica skladbi, katere vsebina je umetelno prikrita, kodirana. Le izobražen in poučen poslušalec lahko razume, kaj je resnično sporočilo skladbe. Na tak način so bile v posvetna dela umeščene koralne melodije, kot glasniki duhovnega. • Posebej drzni skladatelji so pisali tudi duhovne skladbe, a z odkrito posvetnim izrazom. Vendar te skladbe v osnovi ohranjajo osnovno poslanstvo žanra - duhovnost in sakralnost. Vse naštete načine sakralizacije posvetne glasbe najdemo v skladbah latvijskih skladateljev (60-tih, 70-tih let 20. stoletja), kot so Paul Dambis, Romualds Jermaks, Margeris Zarinš in drugi. Ponoven pregled del (glasbenih in neglasbenih) upoštevaje omenjene načine prikrivanja, bo prinesel - upajmo - natančnejšo in bolj pretanjeno razumevanje razvoja duhovne glasbe v Latviji in drugih deželah v času, ko je bila duhovna glasba nezaželena, vse oblike religioznosti pa preganjane. Prevod naslova, izvlečka in povzetka Aleš Nagode UDK 784.4:27-167.64 DOI: 10.4312/mz.50.2.137-145 Charris Efthimiou Kunstuniversität Graz Univerza za umetnost, Gradec Die christlichen und antichristlichen Elemente in der Musik von BLACK SABBATH (1970-1973) Krščanske in protikrščanske prvine v glasbi BLACK SABBATH (1970-1973) Prejeto: 8. december 2012 Sprejeto: 27. marec 2013 Ključne besede: Black Sabbath, analiza glasbe, religija, riff Izvleček So bili člani Black Sabbath res častilci hudiča? So s svojo novo zvočnostjo res želeli žaliti krščanstvo? Namen prispevka je poiskati stvarno podlago za odgovor na ti dve vprašanji. Ob tem želi pesmi tega ansambla (od 1970 do 1973), ki imajo religiozno ozadje, opazovati s stališča analize glasbe. Received: 8th December 2012 Accepted: 27th March 2013 Keywords: Black Sabbath, Music analysis, Religion, Riff Abstract Were the members of BLACK SABBATH actually worshipers of the devil? Did they actually want to insult Christianity with their new sound? The aim of this paper is to find concrete answers to these questions mentioned. A further aim is to examine from a music analytical point of view the songs of this band (from 1970 to 1973), which have a religious background. Niemand hätte ahnen können, dass vier junge Burschen aus der Arbeiterschicht Birminghams Ende der 60er Jahre den Verlauf der populären Musik maßgeblich beeinflussen würden. Gitarrist Antony Frank „Tony" Iommi, Sänger John Michael „Ozzy" Osbourne, Bassist Terence Michael Joseph "Geezer" Butler und Drummer William Thomas "Bill" Ward, alle aus Birmingham, gründeten 1968 die Band BLACK SABBATH. Ihr erster Song Black Sabbath aus dem Album Black Sabbath (1970) gilt für viele Musikwissenschaftler und Experten dieser Musik als der allererste Heavy Metal-Song der Musikgeschichte (Phillips und Cogan, 35-37, Christe, 26, Schäfer, 18). Die Gruppe BLACK SABBATH bekam im Laufe der 70er Jahre wegen ihres neuen, lauten und aufregenden Sounds hohen Zuspruch bei der damaligen Jugend Großbri- tanniens. Ihre Fangemeinde wuchs von Jahr zu Jahr. Zugleich aber stießen sie bei einem großen Teil der Bevölkerung auf Ablehnung und Entrüstung. Allein der Name dieser Band (Schwarzer Samstag) wirkt wie ein Statement, weshalb diverse religiöse Kreise ihn damals auch als Beleidigung sahen. Für zusätzlichen Zündstoff sorgten die Texte der Band, die oft als okkult, antichristlich und drogenverehrend verstanden wurden. Waren die Mitglieder von BLACK SABBATH tatsächlich Verehrer des Teufels? Wollten sie mit ihrem neuen Sound das Christentum beleidigen? Und haben Sie die Jugend der 70er und 80er Jahre mit ihren Texten wirklich verführt und verdorben? Ziel dieses Beitrages ist es, konkrete Antworten auf die gerade erwähnten Fragenstellungen zu finden und die über die letzten Jahrzehnte entstandenen Missverständnisse zu beseitigen. Ein weiteres Ziel ist es, die Lieder dieser Band (1970 bis 1973), die einen religiösen Hintergrund aufweisen, musikanalytisch zu untersuchen. Wie viele Songs haben eine christliche oder eine antichristliche Thematik? Bilden Sie tatsächlich die Mehrheit innerhalb des frühen kompositorischen Schaffens von BLACK SABBATH? Werden diese Songs anders als die restlichen Lieder dieser Zeit komponiert? Wenn ja, welche musikalischen Merkmale charakterisieren diese Songs? BLACK SABBATH veröffentlichte zwischen 1970 und 1973 fünf Alben. Black Sabbath (1970, Vertigo Records), Paranoid (1970, Vertigo Records), Master of Reality (1971, Vertigo Records), Vol. 4 (1972, Vertigo Records) und Sabbath Bloody Sabbath (1973, Vertigo Records). Eine Zusammenstellung der bekanntesten Songs dieser Alben bildet die Kompilation mit dem Titel We Sold Our Soul for Rock 'n' Roll (1975). Diese fünf Alben beinhalten insgesamt 40 Songs, die folgendermaßen unterteilt werden können: • Covers und Songs ohne Gesang (8 Songs) • Eigene Gefühle und Probleme (7 Songs) • Religion (7 Songs) • Sozialkritik (6 Songs) • Mythologie und Science Fiction (5 Songs) • Antikriegsrhetorik (4 Songs) • Drogen (3 Songs) Erstaunlicherweise stehen Songs mit Drogenthematik (z.B. Snowblind) an letzter Stelle. Abbildung 1 schafft einen Überblick über die sieben Songs mit religiöser Thematik und versucht, sie in Hinblickauf die Einstellung gegenüber dem Christentum zu klassifizieren: Von den insgesamt 40 Songs komponierte BLACK SABBATH zwischen 1970 und 1973 nur einen einzigen Song mit deutlich antichristlichen Tendenzen (N. I. B., Black Sabbath, 1970). In den meisten Songs wird das Christentum neutral betrachtet. Es gibt sogar einen Song mit klar christlicher Botschaft (After Forever, Master of Reality, 1971). Um die musikalischen Besonderheiten der Songs mit christlichem (After Forever) und antichristlichem Inhalt (N.I.B. und Black Sabbath) sichtbar zu machen, ist es zunächst notwendig, die allgemeinen musikalischen Merkmale der Band zu präsentieren. „Tony" Iommis Arbeitsunfall vor der Gründung der Band, bei dem ihm eine Maschine die Fingerkuppen abschnitt, beeinflusste den Sound der Band maßgeblich. Nach christlich (positiv) After Forever (1971) neutral Supernaut, (1972) Under The Sun (1972) A National Acrobat (1973) Who Are You? (1973) über den Teufel Black Sabbath (1970) antichristlich N. I. B.(1970) Abbildung 1: Songs mit religiöser Thematik. vielen vergeblichen Versuchen, die verlorenen Fingerkuppen zu ersetzen (Popoff, 9), sah sich „Tony" gezwungen, die tiefe Saite der Gitarre einen Ganzton tiefer zu stimmen, um die Powerchords leichter und bequemer spielen zu können. Dadurch entstand der charakteristische dunkle Sound der Band. Ein weiteres musikalisches Merkmal ist die Verwendung von kurzen prägnanten Riffs, die sich wie ein roter Faden durch den ganzen Song ziehen. Abbildung 2 zeigt einen typischen BLACK SABBATH-Riff (Iron Man, Paranoid, 1970, Anfangsriff). Er besteht fast ausschließlich aus Powerchords mit einer limitierten Zahl meistens in Quinten gehaltene Harmonien: Abbildung 2: Iron Man, Anfangsriff. Im gesamten Iron Man werden fast ausschließlich Quintakkorde auf B, D, E, G und Fis verwendet, die sich alle auch im Anfangsmotiv finden. Es gibt kaum Dreiklänge und Septakkorde, Jazz-Akkorde werden weitgehend vermieden. Um eine harmonische Monotonie zu vermeiden, versucht BLACK SABBATH, die Reihenfolge der Akkorde bei allen Riffs eines Songs und auch die Gesamtform des Songs so abwechslungsreich wie möglich zu gestalten. In der zweiten Hälfte der Abbildung 2 singt „Ozzy" noch dazu die Oberstimme des Gitarrenriffs (Has he lost his mind? Can he see or is he blind?). Obwohl die Gesamtlautstärke konstant bleibt, wird der Eindruck erweckt, dass die Musik an dieser Stelle lauter und intensiver wird. Diese Technik heißt auskomponiertes Crescendo. Sie wird sowohl hier als auch in mehreren Songs von BLACK SABBATH verwendet, um Spannung zu erzeugen. Kurze, prägnante rhythmische Motive (meistens in Quinten), wenige Harmonien, die unterschiedliche Abfolge von Akkorden innerhalb eines Riffs, das auskomponierte Crescendo und die komplexe Gesamtform sind die wichtigsten musikalischen Merkmale der Musik von BLACK SABBATH zwischen 1970 und 1973. N. I. B. ist vielleicht einer der wenigen Songs der populären Musik bis 1973 mit prosatanischen Elementen. Eine männliche Figur versucht, eine junge Frau zu verführen (Some people say my love cannot be true / Please believe me, my love, and I'll show you). Die unbekannte Person verspricht ihr den Himmel (the sun, the moon, the stars, all and my seal), versucht, sie von ihren edlen Gefühlen zu überzeugen (you are the first to have this love of mine), was ihr auch tatsächlich gelingt (now I have you with me under my power). Was zuerst wie eine romantische Ballade aussieht, entpuppt sich als Werk des Teufels (look into my eyes, you will see who I am /My name is Lucifer, please take my hand). Die Dramatik der Handlung wird musikalisch durch die Technik des auskomponierten Crescendos ausgedruckt. Zuerst erklingt ein Riff auf der Bassgitarre (Abbildung 3, T. 1-4: Situation A). Anschließend spielt die Gitarre diesen Riff in Quinten (T. 5-8, B) und schließlich wird, wie in Iron Man, die obere Stimme des Gitarrenriffs vom Sänger übernommen (T. 9-12, C). Es gibt bei BLACK SABBATH kaum Songs, die diese Technik so plakativ verwenden, um dem Text zusätzliche Intensität zu verleihen. C Abbildung 3: N. I. B., auskomponiertes Crescendo (Takte 1-12). Selten wurde ein Heavy Metal-Song so missverstanden wie Black Sabbath (Album: Black Sabbath, 1970). Der Text dieser Komposition wurde mehrmals missinterpretiert (Moore 2009, 143-160 und Popoff, 19-21). Es handelt sich um eine Person, die plötzlich ein unheimliches Phantom vor sich sieht (What is this that stands before me? / Figure in black which points at me), das sich schließlich als Teufel entpuppt (Satan's sitting there, he's smiling/ Watches those flames get higher and higher). Der Protagonist wird von großer Angst ergriffen (Oh no, no, please God help me) und die Menschen rings um ihn geraten in Panik (People running, cause they're scared). Der Erzähler dieser Horrorvision bekennt sich aber nicht zur dunklen Magie, sondern versucht, das Werk des Teufels zu verhindern (The people better go and beware! / No, no, please, no!). Die Texte von Black Sabbath und N. I. B. weisen ähnliche strukturelle Merkmale auf. Am Anfang der Erzählung werden keine genauen Informationen über die Protagonisten gegeben. Erst im Laufe der Komposition erfahren wir immer mehr über die Identität der Charaktere. Die Band BLACK SABBATH geht einen Schritt weiter als in N. I. B., indem sie in Black Sabbath versucht, den ganzen Song wie ein auskomponiertes Crescendo zu gestalten. tJ Tritonus:- 1 1 What is this that stands be "ore_ _ me?_ ^— p 9 fr» d W 9 Abbildung 4: Black Sabbath, Anfangsriff. Der wohl berühmteste Riff der Musikgeschichte (Abbildung 4, T. 1-4) basiert auf dem Intervall des Tritonus (Diabolus in Musica). Dadurch bekommt der Zuhörer schon von Anfang an einen konkreten Hinweis dafür, wer vor dem Erzähler steht (T. 5-8). Der Rhythmus des Riffs besteht aus ganzen und halben Noten. Abbildung 5: Black Sabbath, Riff 2. iffl.i.. T8-1 I—3—i ~3-1 ~3—i f ' r—3—i / ^ 1—3—. Tony over-dubbing / Abbildung 6: Black Sabbath, Schlussriff. Während sich die Emotionen des Erzählers steigern, intensiviert sich die musikalische Struktur durch die Verwendung von Achteltriolen (Abbildung 5 / Riff 2). Die Verwendung von vollen Drei- und Vierklängen mit Triolenrhythmus, von einer zusätzlichen in Studio aufgenommenen Gitarre (overdubbing) in forte verdoppelt, verleiht der Musik ein Maximum an Spannung und Intensität (Abbildung 6 / Schlussriff). Auch After Forever (Master of Reality / 1973) wurde von diversen Kirchenvertretern als blasphemischer Song eingestuft (Froese, 25). In Wirklichkeit handelt sich um ein zutiefst katholisches Lied. Ozzy fragt uns gleich am Anfang der Komposition, ob wir schon darüber nachgedacht hätten, was es nach dem Tod gäbe (Haveyou ever thought about your soul / can it be saved?). Er bezweifelt, dass nach dem Tod alles vorbei ist (Or perhaps you think that when you're dead you just stay in your grave), er behauptet sogar, erkenne die Wahrheit (Well I have seen the truth, yes I've seen the light/ And I've changed my ways), die Wahrheit, die auf einem liebenden Gott basiere (That God is the only way to love). After Forever weist andere klangfarbliche Merkmale als die restlichen Lieder des Albums Master of Reality auf (Popoff, 70) und wird bis zu diesem Zeitpunkt als einer der fortschrittlichsten Songs der Band bezeichnet (Mclver, 76). Die Konstruktion des Anfangsriffs bekräftigt diese These (Abbildung 7). Der Orgelpunkt der Gitarre auf der Note A, das Ausbleiben von Quintakkorden und die ständigen Wiederholungen von A-Dur-Akkorden verdeutlichen die Besonderheit dieses Riffs. Unmittelbar danach aber (Abbildung 8) erklingt ein völlig anders strukturierter Riff. Während Ozzy die erste Strophe singt, spielt Tony in einer heterophonischen Art und Weise ein prägnantes rhythmisches Motiv mit verschiedenen Quintakkorden. Durch die extreme klangfarbliche Änderung des Gitarrensounds (Abbildung 8, Riff 2) bekommen die mahnenden Worten Ozzys (Have you ever thought about your soul, can it be saved) zusätzliche Bedeutung. Abbildung 8: After Forever, Riff 2 (mit 1. Vers). Während die tonalen Zentren der ersten zwei Riffs in A und in E waren, erklingt nun ein Riff in G (Abbildung 9), der klangfarbliche Charakteristika des Anfangsriffs aufweist (keine Quintakkorde und Orgelpunkt auf G). Could it be you 're a traid of what your friends might say if they knew you be lieve in God a b<> ve G 06 O G4 F Bb G Abbildung 9: After Forever, Riff 3 (mit 3. Vers). Dieser Riff wird später um einen Ganzton nach oben transponiert. Die hohe Lage des Gesangs und der höher transponierte Riff (Abbildung 10) tragen entscheidend zu einer weiteren Intensivierung der Musik bei. tj 1 r T • 1* "i r r ^r r r Is your mind so small that yo A u have to fall_ A6 A ill with the pack. wher ev er they nan? Bb G Abbildung 10: After Forever, Riff 4 (mit 4. Vers). Wird die Gesamtform von After Forever aus einer übergreifenden Perspektive betrachtet (Abbildung 11), wird folgendes festgestellt: • Die Gesamtform ist für einen fünfminütigen Heavy Metal-Song sehr komplex. Es gibt insgesamt 18 verschiedene Abschnitte. • Es gibt drei tonale Zentren: A (Riff 1 und 4), E (Riff 2) und G (Riff 3). Fast jeder Riff ist in einer eigenen Tonart, was untypisch für eine Heavy Metal-Komposi-tion der 70er ist. • Jeder Riff weist eine unterschiedliche Reihenfolge von Akkorden auf. Die Gruppe BLACK SABBATH schuf von 1970 bis 1973 einen völlig neuen Sound, der für eine Reihe von Musikern und Bands der folgenden Generationen wegweisend wurde. Ihre Mitglieder gelten als die Urväter des Heavy Metal und sind bis heute sowohl interpretatorisch als auch kompositorisch aktiv. BLACK SABBATHs steile Karriere kann nicht nur auf die Skandale rund um die Mitglieder und die heftigen Reaktionen aus konservativen Kreisen zurückgeführt werden. Die Struktur der Musik, die neuen aufregenden dunklen Klangfarben, die Lautstärke und die Behandlung der Harmonien sind nur einige der musikalischen Errungenschaften, die eine Welle der Begeisterung bei der damaligen Jugend auslösten (Popoff, 31-32 und Weinstein, 22-43). Erstaunlicherweise gibt es in der frühen Phase der Band (1970-1973) wenige Songs mit religiöser Textthematik. N. I. B., Black Sabbath und After Forever sind die Songs, musikalische Form Akkorde A Riff 1 (Intro) A--- B Riff 2 1. Vers (mit Riff 2) D5 E5 Fis5 G5 / D5 E5 G5 Fis5 A Riff 1 B Riff 2 2. Vers (mit Riff 2) C Bridge (Riff 3) 3. Vers (mit Riff 3) G G6 G G4 F B G D Riff 4 4. Vers (mit Riff 4) A A6 A A4 G C A A Riff 1 B Riff 2 5. Vers (mit Riff 2) E Solo A---/ B— A Riff 1 B Riff 2 6. Vers (with Riff 2) A Riff 1 (Outro) Abbildung 11: Gesamtform von After Forever die in den 70er Jahren wegen ihre Lyrics am meisten polarisierten. Noch überraschender ist die Tatsache, dass nur ein einziger Song klar antichristliche Tendenzen (N I. B.) aufweist. Diese drei Songs bilden aus musikanalytischer Sicht keine Ausnahme innerhalb des kompositorischen Oeuvres von BLACK SABBATH. Sämtliche musikalische Charakteristika der frühen Phase der Band sind bei allen drei Songs zu finden. Diese musikalischen Merkmale werden in N. I. B., Black Sabbath und After Forever sogar noch extremer und plakativer verwendet. Literatur Christe, Ian. Sound of the Beast. The Complete Headbanging History of Heavy Metal. New York: Harper Collins Publishers, 2004. Cope, L. Andrew. Black Sabbath and the Rise of Heavy Metal Music. London: Ashgate, 2010. Froese, Brian. "Is this the End, My Friend? Black Sabbath's Apocalypse of Horror." In Black Sabbath and Philosophy, Mastering Reality. Edited by William Irwin, 20-30. Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell, 2013, (S. 20-30). McIver, Joel. Sabbath Bloody Sabbath. Die unauthorisierte Biographie. Berlin: Bos- worth Music GmbH, 2011. Moore, Ryan M. "The Unmaking of the English working Class: Deindustrialization, Rei-fication and the Origins of Heavy Metal." In Heavy Metal in Britain. Edited by Gerd Bayer, 143-160. London: Ashgate, 2009, (S. 143-161). Phillips, William and Brian Cogan. Encyclopedia of Heavy Metal Music. Westport: Greenwood Press, 2009. Popoff, Martin. Black Sabbath - Hohepriester des Doom. Berlin: I.P. Verlag, 2009. Schäfer, Frank. Heavy Metal. Geschichte, Bands und Platten. Leipzig: Reclam, 2001. Weinstein, Deena. Heavy Metal. The Music and its Culture. Cambridge: Da Capo Press, 2000. POVZETEK Nihče ne bi pomislil, da bodo štirje mladeniči iz birminghamskega delavskega razreda v poznih šestdesetih letih bistveno spremenili razvoj popularne glasbe. Kitarist Antony Frank "Tony" Iommi, pevec John Michael "Ozzy" Osbourne, bas kitarist Terence Michael "Geezer" Butler in bobnar William Thomas "Bill" Ward, vsi rojeni v Birmin-ghamu, so leta 1968 ustanovili ansambel BLACK SABBATH. Njihovo prvo pesem z naslovom Black Sabbath, z albuma Black Sabbath (1970) mnogi raziskovalci in poznavalci glasbe označujejo kot prvo heavy metalsko skladbo v glasbeni zgodovini (Phillips and Cogan, 35-37; Christe, 26; Schäfer, 18). V sedemdesetih je BLACK SABBATH postal popularen pri britanski mladini, predvsem zaradi nove, glasne in razburljive zvočnosti. Število privržencev se je iz leta v leto povečevalo. Hkrati pa jih je velik del prebivalstva zavračal kot sporne in žalji- ve. Že samo ime (Črna sobota) učinkuje kot opredelitev, kar je bilo razumljeno kot žalitev v verskih krogih. Ansamblova besedila so poskrbela za dodatno razburjenje. Razumljena so bila kot okultna, protikrščanska in povezana z uživanjem drog. So bili člani BLACK SABBATH res častilci hudiča? So res hote žalili krščanstvo s svojim zvokom? Je bila mladina sedemdesetih in osemdesetih zapeljana in pokvarjena z njihovimi besedili? Namen prispevka je poiskati stvarno podlago za odgovor na ti dve vprašanji in razčistiti nesporazume zadnjih desetletij. Drugi cilj pa je glasbeno analitično opazovati skladbe tega ansambla iz časa med 1970 in 1973, ki imajo versko ozadje. Koliko pesmi ima krščanske in koliko protikrščanske teme? Ali res predstavljajo večino ansamblovih zgodnjih skladb? So komponirane drugače od ostalih skladb tega časa? In če da, katere glasbene rešitve so zanje značilne? Prevod naslova, izvlečka in povzetka Aleš Nagode UDK 78:233"199" DOI: 10.4312/mz.50.2.147-156 Mike Dines Institute of Contemporary Music Performance, London, UK Inštitut za izvajanje sodobne glasbe, London, Združeno kraljestvo The Sacralization of Straightedge Punk: Bhakti-yoga, Nada Brahma and the Divine Received: Embodiment of Krishnacore Sakralizacija straightedge punka: Bhakti-joga, Nada Brahma in prejeto božansko utelešenje Krishnacore Prejeto: 9. januar 2013 Sprejeto: 27. marec 2013 Ključne besede: straightedge, Krishnacore, punk, bhakti-joga, Nada-Brahma Izvleček Članek raziskuje izoblikovanje gibanja Krishnacore, pojava, ki je nastal z zlitjem ameriškega straightedge punka in gibanja Hare Krišna v devetdesetih letih. Ugotavlja, da je bila - čeprav je bil podoben način življenja, ki je obsegal vegetarijanstvo, odklanjanje uporabe psihoaktivnih substance in nebrzdane spolnosti, temeljno izhodišče povezovanja- prav bhakti-joga (teološka in filozofska osnova gibanja Hare Krišna) tista, ki je utrdila njuno povezanost. Raziskuje tudi estetsko dimenzijo punka v vedskem kontekstu, še posebej v zvezi z 'Nada-Brama', oziroma sakralizacijo zvoka. Received: 9th January 2013 Accepted: 27th March 2013 Keywords: straightedge, Krishnacore, punk, bhakti-yoga, Nada-Brahma Abstract This article explores the formation of Krishnacore, a phenomenon born from the amalgamation of American straightedge punk and the Hare Krishna Movement in the 1990s. It argues that whilst shared choices of lifestyle, such as vegetarianism and a distaste for intoxicants and illicit sex, were core tenets towards the conception of the scene, it was bhakti-yoga (the theological and philosophical basis of the Hare Krishna Movement) that cemented such a relationship. Furthermore, it also explores the aesthetic context of punk within a Vedic context, in particular with reference to what is termed as 'Nada-Brahma', or the sacralisation of sound. namnam akari bahudha nija-sarva-saktis tatrarpita niyamitah smarane na kalah etadrisi tava kripa bhagavan mamapi durdaivam idrisam ihajani nanuragah1 It may come as little surprise to find that punk rock and religion - arguably two rather different paths to 'enlightenment' - have seldom been congenial bedfellows. With lyrical discontent ranging from the sardonic - John Lydon's sermonic recitation in 'Religion', and his sneering depiction of a 'fat pig priest [and] sanctimonious smiles'; to the visceral - Jello Biafra's depiction of nausea and sickness in 'Religious Vomit' ('all religions make me wanna throw up, all religions make me sick') - punk rock and religion have rarely seen eye-to-eye; instead regarding each other with censure, disapproval and disgust. However, there is one subgenre of the punk rock canon that not only turned to a particular religious doctrine for lyrical subject matter and prevailing practice of subcultural codes but also, for some, became a catalyst for the complete embracing of the corresponding spiritual lifestyle: Krishnacore. This paper will examine the apparent contradictory combination of lifestyle and aesthetic within the Krishnacore movement. Using repertoire drawn predominantly from two of the central bands within the scene - Shelter and 108 - it will raise questions over the origins of the Krishnacore 'scene', noting the emergence of Krishnacore from the already established straightedge scene of the 1990s. Existing texts on the similarities between straightedge and the Hare Krishna movement often emphasise (amongst others) the shared principles of vegetarianism, the refraining from intoxicants and the disapproval of illicit sex. Although I agree with these writers, I also highlight the importance of the devotional doctrine of bhakti-yoga within this relationship; a doctrine that was to inform further the move from straightedge punk to Hare Krishna monk. From the idea of lifestyle, I will then explore the aesthetic, pulling upon the importance of what is termed as rasa, a term central within bhakti-yoga, and one that is used to interpret devotional mood through the artistic. In conclusion, I will draw upon the notion of 'Nada Brahma'. Literally meaning 'God is sound', Nada Brahma is a means of orally articulating the manifestation of a religious deity by recitation or song. Rooted within the Indian philosophical and religious traditions (most noticeably perhaps in the Upanishads) the essence of Nada Brahma lies in the encompassing of sound vibration within devotion, and is not one usually associated with the punk rock genre. As such, I will raise questions over the musical and cultural setting of this manifestation and recitation; looking at the way in which Nada Brahma transcends environment, musical stylistics and music performance practice: the oration of God's name, in other words, is as applicable to the punk rock aesthetic as it is to the bhajan or kirtan of the Indian musical tradition. 1 'O my Lord, Your holy name alone can render all benedictions to living and millions of names like Krishna and Govinda. In these transcendental names You have invested all Your transcendental energies. There are not even hard and fast rules for chanting these names. O my Lord, out of kindness You enable us to easily approach You by Your holy names, but I am so unfortunate that I have no attraction for them.' Verse from Text 2 of Lord Krishna Caitanya Mahaprabhu's Sri Siksastakam. Translated by A.C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada, Teachings of Lord Caitanya (London: Bhaktivedanta Book Trust, 1985), xvii-xviii. Often said to stem from the 1981 single 'Straight Edge' by the Washington D.C. hardcore punk band Minor Threat, straightedge punk was, as Robert T. Wood notes, 'commonly described as a philosophy and lifestyle characterized by abstinence from alcohol, drugs, casual sex, and even meat and animal products in some cases'2. In strong contrast to the stereotypical 'self-destruct' persona of punk rock per se, straightedge offered a lifestyle choice that affirmed positive living and individual and social responsibility. As such, lyrical content mirrored a carefully defined lifestyle of clean-living and social awareness, with many tracks articulating awareness of animal rights, veganism and, later on, ecological issues. Yet, more than just promoting a positive attitude and lifestyle, straightedge was also a move towards the channelling and articulating of the energy and passion inherent within the hardcore movement, a passion that some saw rather negatively as a 'punk rock liberalism'. Highlighted by Ray Cappo in All Ages: Reflections on Straightedge (1997), he believed that the hardcore scene had become too broad, lacking direction and focus, and instead appeared too 'wishy-washy'. 'In 1983, a common punk slogan to paint on your jacket was "No One Rules". I laughed to myself in 1986 when I saw a similar motto on the back of a sweatshirt. It read "Rules!" The pendulum of liberalism swung from "No Rules" to "Rules are good"'3. For Cappo, therefore, the conservatism of straightedge articulated the energy inherent within punk: 'indulgence swung to self-control', he notes, as 'slam dancing turned to more stylized moshing and stage diving [and] the fashion pendulum swung from mohawks to a clean cut collegiate...look'4. With its move away from the irresolute, 'No Rules' attitude of hardcore punk and its austere observance to a framework of subcultural values, it would seem obvious that straightedge also lent itself towards a synchronicity with the core tenets of the Hare Krishna movement. Introduced into American culture in 1965 by the Indian writer and philosopher A. C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada5, the Hare Krishna movement had at its core what they termed as 'regulative principles' in which to adhere, including abstinence from intoxicants (including caffeine), no gambling, no illicit sex and no meat eating; principles similar to those of straightedge punk. Moreover, as Norman Brannon points out, 'I don't remember a time when Krishnas didn't exist in the hardcore scene'.6 Pulling upon the example of Cro-Mags vocalist John Joseph, Brannon also draws upon the example of free food that the Hare Krishnas would give out in Tompkins Park, situated nearby to the famous punk venue C.G.B.G.'s. 'I remember going to a show, going crazy, leaving the matinee, and then running to the park to see if the Krishnas were still there with food', he notes, observing that 'a lot of times the Krishnas there were ex-hardcore kids'.7 2 Robert T. Wood, Straightedge Youth: Complexity and Contradictions of a Subculture (New York: Syracuse Press, 2006), 1. 3 Beth Lahickey, All Ages: Reflections on Straightedge (Huntington Beach: Revelation Books, 1997), ix-x. 4 Ibid., x. 5 For a comprehensive overview of Srila Prabhupada's time in America, one needs only turn to Satsvarupa Dasa Gosvami's Prabhupada: Your Ever Well-Wisher (2003). 6 Brian Peterson, Burning Fight: The Nineties Hardcore Revolution in Ethics, Politics, Spirit and Sound (Huntington Beach: Revelation Records, 2009), 113. 7 Ibid., 113. Yet, although straightedge punk and the Hare Krishna movement shared the ethical high ground in terms of vegetarianism, non-drug use and condemnation of illicit sex, the latter also provided a systematic means through which to explore the transcendental and philosophical. Although the Krishnas' four regulative principles led the way what, for many, cemented that relationship was the scientific, philosophical and theological system on which the Hare Krishna movement was based; a complex and principled form of spirituality and devotion termed as bhakti-yoga. If the Hare Krishna movement was 'new' in the West, it was quite the opposite in India, with Gaudiya-Vaishnavism (the branch of Hinduism in which the Hare Krishnas draw their religious beliefs) having a devotional heritage stretching back over 3000 years, and kept alive by a long line of 'parampara'- or line of disciplic succession passed from guru to student - and placed within a 'sampradaya', one of the ancient religious traditions in India. As such, musicians such as Ray Cappo, Vic DiCara and Robert Fish, began to engage with ideas drawn from ancient Indian texts such as the Bhagavad-gita and the Srimad-Bhagavatam; central within Vaishnavism. 'I liked the way Eastern philosophies approach religion and spirituality as if it was something logical and scientific', notes Vic DiCara. 'There are lengthy, detailed explanations of just about every aspect of what they talk about. And these explanations are right out in front, not hidden away for debate in some seminary or some "mystical" version of the scripture'8. If DiCara was drawn to the scientific, then Cappo was drawn to the notion of the soul: 'what I understand about reincarnation is that I know that I'm not a body....I am an observer; that's all I am - I'm a passenger'9. And, for Robert Fish, there was the relationship between discipline and spiritual realization: '.at some point the practitioner of any discipline, philosophy, or lifestyle will hit that stage where there is a deep and life-altering moment where you step back, examine life, and find your person within, and at times maybe outside of that given lifestyle'10. As such, Krishnacore incorporated a new, conscious aesthetic. Bands such as Shelter and 108 began to sing of reincarnation, the concept of the 'paramatma' (or the supersoul) and 'saranagati' (surrender to Krishna). Moreover, lyrical references were not mere empty references or shallow gestures towards subcultural values and membership; nor were they simply the expression of an ethereal anger aimed at others. Instead, lyrics now included close reference to specific Vedic texts, obvious allusions towards Indian philosophical ideals and meaningful rants concerning spirituality in what Vaishnavas term as the 'material world'. Bands began to articulate a relationship with Krishna, bhakti-rasa, through musical expression, using the punk idiom as a means of cultivating and executing devotional service to Krishna. Placed within the tradition of Gaudiya-Vaishnavism the Hare Krishnas drew inspiration primarily through the writer and philosopher Caitanya Mahaprabhu (1486-1534): seen by many as a full incarnation of Lord Krishna, and whose theological premise is one based upon realizing a personal relationship with God. With 'yoga' widely interpreted as 'to connect', and bhakti signifying 'pure love' or 'devotional service', bhakti- 8 Ibid, 119. 9 Ibid., 114. 10 Ibid, 117. yoga therefore, is a practice whereby an individual reconnects with God through acts of love, service and/or devotional service. Furthermore, it is the Gaudiyas - disciples of Caitanya - that also conceived of explaining this subject matter in the language of aesthetics, as through the notion of rasa - emotion, or sentiment - one is able to relish a metaphysical/transcendental relationship with Krishna. In other words, the many features of the musical object - lyrical content, texture, mood, timbre, etc. - were used as a unifying whole in which to show devotion for Krishna. The aesthetic within bhakti - this notion of rasa - therefore provides an important link between Krishnacore and Gaudiya-Vaishnavism. Used as a means of interpreting the devotional relationship a devotee may have with Krishna, rasa is often equated to 'juice', 'taste' or 'flavour', and is seen to be the essence of the aesthetic experience. It is, as Prabhupada points out 'the mellow relished in the transcendental loving service of the Lord'11 and encapsulates emotions such as compassion, tragedy, laughter, longing and love. Furthermore, rasa is central within the correlation of the punk aesthetic and the sacred. As many wondered how a punk band may convey the devotional, musicians such as Vic DiCara points out that bhakti-rasa not only incorporated sentiments such as sringaram, hasyam and karunyam (love, laughter and compassion), it also encapsulated raudram, bhayanakam and bibhatsam (fury, horror and disgust); emotions incumbent in Krishnacore's own devotional texts for Krishna. Musical material subsequently became a vehicle for expressing the devotional. Not just through lyrical content, but also through the conjuring up of aesthetic experience through the many branches of the musical object itself, a good example being 108's 'Gopinath', a track taken from the album Holyname (1993). Both titles reflect the intrinsic nature of devotion, with the album title in particular reiterating the importance of invoking God by the recitation of His name; an aspect important to the aesthetic of the Hare Krishnas. For them, there is no difference between the vibrational qualities of the word Krishna, and Krishna Himself, and thus the reason for the recitation of the mahd-mantra (or Hare Krishna mantra as it is also known). Lyrical content - 'O Gopinath...please hear from request' - is delivered through a spoken, prayerful manner, hardly audible above the guitar and rhythm section. The rasa of surrender and supplication are aided by the repetition of rhythmic motif, emphasising the prayerful, almost mantra-like lyrical content, as the vocalist declares to being a 'wicked materialist...addicted to worldly desires', but hoping that Krishna would not 'consider this servant an outsider'. Music and lyrical content work together to provide an aesthetic of renunciation and surrender, as 108 exploit the different timbres and textures of the ensemble: structure is maintained by riff more than a verse/ chorus structure, portraying an ethereal quality within the track. If 108's musical stylistics beckons the 'otherworldly', then Shelter's 'Saranagati' relies upon a more 'grounded' aesthetic. Founded instead upon a clear verse/chorus structure, and encompassing melodious vocals and instrumentation, Saranagati evokes more a sense of proselytization than renunciation. Translated as 'surrender', 'Saranagati' opens with a sample of Srila Prabhupada reciting the Hare Krishna mantra, 11 A. C. Bhaktivedanta Swami Prabhupada, The Nectar of Devotion: The Complete Science of Bhakti-yoga (London: Bhaktivedanta Book Trust, 2007), xii. and proceeding lyrical content embracing the devotional. 'I'm trying to understand that You're the Supreme Friend, You're beside me and You guide me like no one else can', Cappo sings, 'help me see You in everything and everything in You', before a desperate, piteous delivery of 'Saranagati' repeated throughout the chorus. Lyrical delivery is clear and pronounced, framed within a traditional structure, but the essence of the devotional remains. Both tracks lyrically delve into the theological, drawing upon ideas central to Vaishnavism. Yet, the importance does not lie just with lyrical content, but also with sonic intent: both tracks are performed in devotional service to Krishna, and have been written as a means to further the practitioners' relationship with Him. The importance is not in the style, nor in the genre as such, but more in the devotional communication of the musical object. Yet, if 'Gopinath' and 'Saranagati' were written for the mood of love and surrender, Vic DiCara in particular looked to emulate the notion of fury, horror and disgust within his writing. Whereas Shelter deals with devotional subject matter through a more 'conservative' melodic form of punk, 108 moved towards the horror, the frustration and the fury. Repertoire including 'Holyname', 'Shun the Mask' and 'Mantra Six' proclaimed a new cry of devotional pain and frustration, where the confrontational supersedes the agreeable and devotion and affection turn into anger and frustration. In the minute-long 'Shun the Mask', for example, lyrical content is often difficult to decipher and, when read, has less direct meaning and interpretation. 'Tear tears through my eye, a screaming struggle, to shin the shallow me', is heard at the beginning of the track, 'penetrate the pretence of this plastic life. Hard? Yes it's hard (what did I expect?) easy life, easy lie', as words and music merge in a forthright, blunt aesthetic. As with 'Gopinath', vocal delivery fuses with the remaining ensemble creating a dense texture of musical shapes akin to much of the punk idiom; yet novelty lies within the intent of the musical object. Guitars, drums and vocals are now used as a mean of expressing devotion - whether via frustration, surrender or anger - towards Krishna. Although the location and means remain the same (punk venue, instruments and attitude) the focus has changed: instead of frustration towards a capitalist society, frustration is now diverted towards becoming closer and more intimate with God. Using bhakti-rasa as an aesthetic framework, one is able to shed further light on the unique fusion of Western popular music and the Eastern-based Indian spirituality (and lifestyle) of the Vaishnavas. If Cappo's analogy of punk rock liberalism may have explained the move from hardcore punk to straightedge, then Krishnacore cemented this articulation further, with bands fusing together the fast, 'aggressive' elements of the punk rock style and the spirituality and poignant lyrical subject matter of the Vedas and Krishna Consciousness. Bands already mentioned such as Shelter and 108, but also many others including Prema, Baby Gopal and Refuse to Fall, turned their punk aesthetic towards the devotional. Furthermore, with band members becoming Hare Krishna devotees, and thereby living in temples and studying of texts, Krishnacore began to become aware of the notion of rasa, and thus making no apology for the antagonism, frustration and longing found in punk. Instead they embraced the 'anger...screaming... sweating...bleeding and writing'12 of Caitanya Mahaprabhu and certainly 'not the "om 12 Vic DiCara, e-mail message to author, August 24, 2013. shanti" transcendental meditation or yoga class'13 that many think it merely is. Singing of the values of Vaishnavism, exploring and reciting the stories and past-times of the deity Krishna and appropriating many of the lifestyle choices of the Hare Krishna movement became part-and-parcel of this new musical subgenre. In order to further our understanding of the correlation between rasa and the oral expression of Krishnacore, it would also be useful to turn to the complex, and often intricate, notion of what is termed Nada-Brahma: a Sanskrit expression which encapsulates the power of sound in religious texts; and goes back thousands of years to the oldest of the four sacred Vedic scriptures the Rig-Veda. As Joachin-Ernst Berendt notes in The World is Sound, Nada Brahma: Music and the Landscape of Consciousness (1991) Nada-Brahma is often 'understood as the primal creative word, source of the world and sacred knowledge, Brahma became the central concept of Indian Interpretation of the world. It is one with man's inner consciousnesses14. He concludes, 'Nada-Brahma means [therefore] sound is god. Or, vice versa...God is sound'15. As such, it is the cosmic sound associated with both the creation and sustenance of the universe. Furthermore, the process of sound vibration or, as Guy L. Beck notes in Sonic Theology: Hinduism and Sacred Sound (2008) 'the function of oral language'16, lies within its usage as 'an agent of transformation from the human realm to the divine [and] has been a perennial concern of Indian theological speculation, since language in Hinduism is nearly always identified with both human consciousness and the divine'17. In this sense, Indian Brahmanas (priests) believed that the repetition of particular texts 'permits sound to act upon the internal personality, transform sensibility, way of thinking, state of soul, and even moral character'18. Sound in this context, therefore, has a spiritual embodiment; a temporal 'body' that is loaded with divine meaning. The notion of this temporal embodiment of the Divine is, therefore, a further articulation of devotion in Krishnacore circles. The importance of the recitation of the holy name within the context of Vaishnavism lies in the belief that, 'because there is no difference between Krishna and His name, the holy name of Krishna is as pure, perfect and liberated as Krishna himself'19. As such, it is an idea that it is based on a premise that the 'transcendental vibration'20 of this recitation - and its transcendental origins - which hold the key to self-realization in this modern age. In other words, due to the transcendental nature of the name - and its ability to deliver a conditioned soul in this age - in comparison to its so-called 'material' conception, where there is there is a duality between the writing and recitation of the name of God, and the deities themselves, Vaishnava culture believes that, 'as far as the transcendental vibration is concerned, there is no such limitation, for it descends from the spiritual world'21. In other words, 13 Vic DiCara, e-mail message to author, August 24, 2013. 14 Joachim-Ernest Berendt, The World is Sound, Nada Brahman: Music and the Landscape of Consciousness (Vermont: Destiny Books, 1991), 16-17. 15 Ibid., 17. 16 Guy L. Beck, Sonic Theology: Hinduism and Sacred Sound (Columbia: South Carolina Press, 2008), 23. 17 Ibid., 23. 18 Ibid., 23. 19 Prabhupada, The Nectar of Devotion:.., 202. 20 Ibid., 202. 21 Ibid., 202. the sound vibration of the recitation takes on divine meaning and expression. Of course, we need to be careful in the apparent correlation of two rather different musical practices. Indeed, one can often make the mistake of creating commonalities to 'prove' or 'validate' a particular idea or theory. In terms of devotional music, for instance, it is often used as a means of prayer or meditation, to glorify and communicate with a particular deity, God or spiritual concept. In terms of Vaishnavism, in particular, the writer and musician Steven J. Rosen notes the importance of music rising 'from purity, transporting] its listeners to purity and end[ing] up increasing one's purity'22. Moreover, he adds 'ideally, it should be free from ego or ostentatious displays of virtuosity'23, and instead focuses upon furthering one's service to God. Yet, what provides validity to the connecting of Krishnacore and Indian aesthetics lies in the placement of those band members and associates who were involved in the scene. Ray Cappo, Robert Fish and Vic DiCara were not mere spectators of the Hare Krishna movement, but were indeed devotees themselves, reading and studying scripture, attending lectures and practicing the lifestyle of a devotee. Indeed, all three remain devotees, practicing bhakti-yoga, playing kirtan and writing about Krishna both inside and outside of the ISKCON (International Society of Krishna Consciousness). In terms of Krishnacore, the places, the instruments - the means - may be obviously different to traditional means of bhakti-rasa, but the expression - the end result - remains the same. Practitioners from both walks of life - the punk and the devotee - were well versed in the theological and philosophical importance of the transcendental recitation of the Holy name of Krishna. It may, therefore, initially sound like a real theoretical 'long shot' in assigning these two rather different musical practices a place together in musicological theory: and one may (quite rightly) argue that Krishnacore is not, in essence, meditational, nor prayerful. Indeed, many would argue that the aggressive, 'in your face' vocal delivery and fast, unrelenting tempo does not inspire one to prayerful meditation and quiet solace. However, I would argue that Krishnacore does indeed attempt to provide a platform of glorification and communication with the deities bound up within the Hare Krishna movement. For, as mentioned above, one could argue, that both lyrical content and lifestyle are moulded together to provide a platform for exaltation, a stage where the various rasas can be played out. 'History of the universe [in] 18,000 verses', sing Shelter in 'Message of the Bhagavat', a reference to the voluminous Indian scripture the Srimad Bhagavatam, 'illuminating, rejuvenating, not degenerating, giving shelter to the people who want truth'. As such, the importance lies in the exacting nature of this exaltation and communication: it is, as I have already mentioned, not merely accidental, but is instead, a conscious form of spiritual expression. 22 Stephen J. Rosen, "Bach to Go: Music and the Vaishnava Tradition", Back to Godhead, September/October 2011, 14. 23 Ibid., 14. Bibliography Anand, Mulk Raj. The Hindu View of Art. London: George Allen & Unwin, 1933. Beck, Guy L. Sonic Theology: Hinduism and Sacred Sound. Columbia: South Carolina Press, 2008. Berendt, Joachim-Ernest. The World is Sound, Nada-Brahman: Music and the Landscape of the Consciousness. Vermont: Destiny Books, 1991. Easwaran, Eknath. The Upanishads. Tomales: Nilgiri Press, 1987. Gosvami, Satsvarüpa Däsa. Prabhupada: Your Ever Well-Wisher. London: Bhaktivedan-ta Book Trust, 2003. Lahickey, Beth. All Ages: Reflections on Straightedge. Huntington Beach: Revelation Books, 1997. Peterson, Brian. Burning Fight: The Nineties Hardcore Revolution in Ethics, Politics, Spirit and Sound. Huntington Beach: Revelation Records, 2009. Prabhupada, A. C. Bhaktivedanta Swami. Bhagavad-gita As It Is. Los Angeles: Bhaktive-danta Book Trust, 1986. —iTeachings of Lord Caitanya: A Treatise on Factual Spiritual Life. London: Bhaktivedanta Book Trust, 1985. —i The Nectar of Devotion: The Complete Science of Bhakti-yoga. London: Bhaktivedanta Book Trust, 2007. Rosen, Steven. "Bach to Go: Music and the Vaishnava Tradition." Back to Godhead, September/October 2011, 12-14, 26. —i The Yoga of Kirtan: Conversations on the Sacred Art of Chanting. New York: Folk Books, 2008. Tripurari, Swami B.V. Bhagavad-gita: Its Feeling and Philosophy. San Rafael: Mandala Publishing, 2001. Wood, Robert T. Straightedge Youth: Complexity and Contradictions of a Subculture. New York: Syracuse Press, 2006. POVZETEK V The World is Sound, Nada Brahma: Music and the Landscape of Consciousness (1991) opaža Jo-achin-Ernst Berendt, da je Nada Brahma pogosto »razumljena kot prvinski svet stvarjenja, vir sveta in svetega vedenja ... eno s človekovim notranjim zavedanjem.« Tako zaključuje: »Nada Brahma pomeni [torej] zvok je bog. Ali, obrnjeno ... Bog je zvok.« Sanskrtski pojem Nada Brahma najdemo že v najstarejšem izmed štirih svetih vedskih spisov -Rig-vedi. Uporablja se za opisovanje moči zvoka v verskih besedilih, pri razumevanju sveta okoli nas in - kot menijo mnogi - kozmičnega zvoka, ki je hkrati odmev stvarjenja in potreben za ohranjanje vesolja. Zvočnost ima tako duhovno utelešenje: časno telo, ki je napolnjeno z božanskim pomenom. V prispevku želim raziskovati idejo Nada Brahma v precej nenavadnem kontekstu izvorno ameriškega podžanra straightedge punka, "Krishnacore". Punkovski glasbeniki so zlili transcendentalnen značaj ustno tradirane glasbe, z značilnostmi zahodne punkovske glasbe, povezujoč indijsko, vedsko duhovnost gibanja Hare Krišna s hitrim, »agresivnim« glasbenim slogom punk rocka. Tako je bilo besedilo prepleteno z molitvijo, punkovsko rockovski oder pa je postal prostor za pridiganje zavesti Krišne. Vedska besedila niso bila več posredovana v tradicionalni obliki indijskega duhovnega petja, kot sta bhajan ali kirtan. Govor o saranagati (predaja), reinkarnaciji in celo svete mantre so bile zlite z estetiko punk rocka. S pomočjo rase, osnovnega koncepta indijske estetike, bom poskušal slediti izvirom Krishnaco-re v ameriškem straightedge, pri čemer me bodo posebej zanimali načini, kako so se mnogi vodilni predstavniki gibanja Hare Krišna nagibali k povezovanju s straightedge. Nato bom, s pomočjo analize besedila in glasbenega sloga - še posebej glede njunega razmerja do bhakti-rasa - opazoval zapleteno razmerje med Nada Brahma in očitnim preseganjem božanskega čez kulturne in glasbene meje ter iskal izraz indijske teologije v netradicio-nalnem okolju, kakršno je punk rock. Na koncu želim opozoriti na način, na katerega je zvočna/ ustna tradicija preživela v sodobni čas in postala nenavadna podlaga za izraz v subkulturi, kakršna je ameriški straightedge. Prevod naslova, izvlečka in povzetka Aleš Nagode UDK 783.8:27-789-535 DOI: 10.4312/mz.50.2.157-180 Katarina Šter Muzikološki inštitut, Znanstvenoraziskovalni center Slovenske akademije znanosti in umetnosti, Ljubljana Institute of Musicology, Scientific Research Centre of the Slovenian Academy of Sciences and Arts, Ljubljana Resacralization of the sacred: Carthusian liturgical plainchant and (re)biblicization of its texts Resakralizacija sakralnega: Bibliciranje besedil spevov kartuzijanske liturgije in kartuzijanski koral Prejeto: 6. januar 2013 Sprejeto: 27. marec 2013 Ključne besede: kartuzijanski koral, Biblija, re-sponzoriji, koralne tradicije Izvleček Kartuzijani so besedila svojih liturgičnih spevov izbirali in korigirali tako, da so bila čim bližja bibličnim besedilom. Primerjava responzorijev iz različnih tradicij (kartuzijanske, benediktinske, cistercijanske, clunyjske in akvitanske) pokaže, da so kartuzijani pri re-sakralizaciji repertoarja na področju besedil vedno spoštovali tudi tradicije melodij. Received: 6th January 2013 Accepted: 27th March 2013 Keywords: Carthusian plainchant, Bible, respon-sories, plainchant traditions Abstract The Carthusians selected and emended the traditional liturgical chant texts of the liturgy in order to bring them closer to the biblical texts. The comparison of the selected responsories from various traditions (Carthusian, Benedictine, Cistercian, Cluniac, Aqui-tanian) shows that it was respect for tradition of the texts as well as the melodies that led the Carthusians in their successful re-sacralization of the repertoire. The "sacred" and the "profane" are, at least from today's perspective, often represented as two contrasting and even mutually exclusive characteristics that can be applied to various things and phenomena. However, their relationship is far more complicated and difficult than something that can be described in terms of a simple dualism, even if one disregards the fact that, from a historical perspective, they are not the most appropriate terms for the majority of phenomena to which people like to apply them. The same can be claimed of the traditional understanding of the sacred and the pro- fane (or "secular," although this does not have exactly the same meaning) in Western music, which is also commonly described in dualistic terms even though indicators of sacred-profane intermingling constantly pop up, causing scholars to pretend to be surprised because the reality does not fit into their categories. Nevertheless, observing musical phenomena from today's perspective and describing them with the terms "sacred" and "profane" (appropriately and clearly defined for each context) can be also a rewarding and enriching process. This is plausible only if one is aware that one is trying to describe music with one's own terms in order to understand it in a contemporary way. However, it is also important to be aware that in past ages people did not understand music the same way as we do today; even if they used the same words to describe it, these words might have had other meanings. This paper discusses a rather specific situation regarding the sacred-profane dichotomy in the context of Carthusian liturgical chant. It may not yield many new discoveries, but it will offer insight into the understanding of the sacred and into the processes of approaching it by means of text and music. The sacred chants used in the Carthusian liturgy were selected and taken from other traditions. If necessary, they were distilled to such an extent that they could be understood either as "sacred" (employing a meaning explained below)—or very close to it—and accepted, or else they were not sacred enough (i.e., they were too profane) to be accepted into the Carthusian tradition, even if they still functioned as sacred in other contexts. The Carthusians and their plainchant The Carthusian Order, which still exists today, is an interesting combination of a monastic and eremitic way of life. This strongly centrally-managed order has had a fascinating history. It was founded by St Bruno, who settled in the Grande Chartreuse near Grenoble in 1084 with six companions in order to live in solitude and prayer (but not with the intention of actually founding a new order), and the community found a strong supporter and benefactor in St Hugh, Bishop of Grenoble. At first the order grew but slowly, which is understandable due to its ascetic orientation. The order blossomed during the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, especially in the German lands. Because of the great number of charterhouses, the whole community was divided into several provinces, which nevertheless were subordinated to the Grande Chartreuse, which was where the order was founded and its usual meeting place for General Chapters (except during the Great Western Schism between 1378 and 1417). The sixteenth century brought the crises of the Reformation and Turkish invasions in some territories. Many charterhouses were then abandoned or destroyed. After a relatively stable period in the seventeenth century and even later, the end of the eighteenth century brought some disastrous blows: the growing secularization caused by the French Revolution and later by the Napoleonic Wars in France and other countries, and less political tolerance of contemplative orders (i.e., the Josephinian reforms in Habsburg lands). Despite all this, the order has survived and continues to carry out its mission up to today. It has retained the most important aspects of its rigorousness and liturgy and therefore the famous statement attributed to Pope Innocent XI still holds true: "Cartusia nunquam reformata, quia nunquam deformata."1 In 1127 or 1128 Guigo, the fifth prior of the Grande Chartreuse, wrote the first legislative document of the order, the clearly described Consuetudines (Customs) of the community in Grande Chartreuse which, with some additions through the centuries, has remained the basic rule of the order until today.2 Another important prior of this house was Anthelm, who organized the first General Chapter in 1140. The General Chapter of 1142 prescribed a uniform liturgy, including chants, for the whole order, and it can be assumed that all the Carthusian charterhouses had the same liturgy soon after that date, if not before.3 Liturgical issues were discussed already in Consuetudines and in the Prologue to the Carthusian antiphoner, which is attributed to Guigo or at least to a writer who was his contemporary.4 Eventually all the houses celebrated their liturgy following the example of the Grande Chartreuse; however, for the sung liturgy the process of liturgically unifying the texts was more urgent and more important than the unification of the melodies, which probably followed later. The Carthusians sing their own selection of the Gregorian chant repertoire in their liturgy.5 Their repertoire of liturgical chant was adapted mostly from the liturgical practices of the area surrounding where the order was founded (the surroundings of Lyon, Grenoble, Valence, and Vienne, with Aquitanian influences; Cluny, St-Ruf, Reims, and Sèche-Fontaine were also influential), but nevertheless it seems to be a very carefully and strictly selected compilation. The earliest preserved Carthusian liturgical musical manuscripts show that the very chants used in the order today were already being sung in the earliest days of the order, if not from its very origins.6 Even if they did use a secu- 1 For general information on the Carthusian Order and its history, see James Hogg, "The Carthusian Order from its foundation to the present day", in Analecta cartusiana, ed. James Hogg et al., Analecta Cartusiana 225 (Salzburg: Institut für Anglistik und Amerikanistik der Universität Salzburg, 2005), 7-26. Among Slovenian literature, see Metod Benedik, "Zgodovinski oris kartuzijanskega reda", in Benediktinci, kartuzijani, cistercijani: Redovništvo na Slovenskem, vol. 1, ed. France M. Dolinar (Ljubljana: Kartuzija Pleterje and Cisterca Stična, 1984), 87-106; Jože Mlinaric, Kartuziji Žiče in Jurklošter (Maribor: Založba Obzorja, 1991), 9-15. 2 On the Consuetudines and the following legislative documents of the order, see Jean Picard, "La liturgie cartusienne, source principale de spiritualité: éléments de recherches sur les sources de son histoire", in Historia et spiritualitas cartusiensis: Acta colloquii quarti internationali, ed. Jan de Grauwe (Destelbergen and Saint-Etienne: Centre Européen de Recherches sur les Congrégations et Ordres Monastiques, 1983), 289-301. 3 On general chapters see Picard, "Liturgie cartusienne"; on the organizational structure of the order, see Léo Moulin, "Note sur les particularités de l'ordre cartusien", in Historia et spiritualitas cartusiensis: Acta colloquii quarti internationali, ed. Jan de Grauwe (Destelbergen and Saint-Etienne: Centre Européen de Recherches sur les Congrégations et Ordres Monastiques, 1983), 283-288. 4 (Un) Chartreux, "L'Office choral et le chant aux premiers temps de la Chartreuse: Un commentaire du Prologue de Guigues à l'antiphonaire", in International Musicological Society Study Group Cantus Planus: Papers Read at the 6th Meeting, Eger, Hungary, 1993, vol. 1 (Budapest: Hungarian Academy of Sciences, Institute for Musicology, 1995), 271-301. 5 For basic information on Carthusian plainchant see Mary Berry, "Carthusian Monks," in Grove Music Online, ed. L. Macy, available online: (the updated version of this title in Grove is being prepared at the moment by Thomas Op de Coul); see also John A. Emerson, "Plainchant, 7: Chant in the religious orders" in Grove Music Online, ed. L. Macy, available online: . Much valuable information can also be found in Amand Degand, "Chartreux (Liturgie des)", in Dictionnaire d'archéologie chrétienne et de liturgie, vol. 3/1, ed. Fernand Cabrol and Henri Leclercq (Paris: Librairie Letouzey et Ané, 1948), 1045-1071; see also Heinrich Hüschen, "Kartäuser", in Die Musik in Geschichte und Gegenwart, vol. 7, ed. Friedrich Blume (Kassel: Bärenreiter, 1958), 706-714 (the same article has also been published in somewhat shortened form in the second edition of Musik in Geschichte und Gegenwart). 6 For the origins of Carthusian chant, see Hansjakob Becker, Die Responsorien des Kartäuserbreviers: Untersuchungen zu Urform und Herkunft des Antiphonars der Kartause, Münchener theologische Studien 39 (München: Max Hueber Verlag, 1971); Emmanuel Cluzet, Sources et genèse du missel cartusien, Analecta cartusiana 99/34 (Salzburg: Institut für Anglistik und lar form of the antiphoner, it had been "monasticized" by the time of Guigo; and so, in his famous prologue, Guigo speaks of a monastic antiphoner that is probably the same one known today in the same form.7 The Bible as the source of the Carthusian chant texts In his work Die Responsorien des Kartäuserbreviers, Hansjakob Becker defined four basic criteria for this process of antiphoner chant selection. These well-known principles or criteria, which can to a certain extent also be applied to other Office chants8 as well as Gradual chants, are: i. The biblical criterion, ii. The criterion of simplicity, iii. The criterion of tradition, and iv. The criterion of ordering of the chants in the offices.9 Becker's work emerged as the result of a thorough study of the Carthusian antiphoner texts, and it still remains the best-founded explanation of the Carthusian antiphoner in its relation to other traditions. Even if the principles of the Carthusian chant selection were known to some extent before Becker, he was the one to present them most systematically and methodically. This holds especially for the criterion of chant ordering, with which Becker proved the previously unknown connection of the Carthusian antiphoner with other traditions. Among Becker's criteria, the "biblical" criterion, which concerns the Carthusian chant texts, is the most important one. Becker confirmed that the Bible was the only valid authority for the texts for Carthusian plainchant, and so the Carthusian liturgy accepted only chants with biblical texts. Only the biblical words had enough author-ity—in other words: were sacred enough—to be chanted. Non-biblical texts such as apocryphal texts, and poetic texts such as sequences and tropes in the Gradual, or texts based on the legends of the saints were excluded from the Carthusian selection. They made only a few exceptions for chants with texts that had a very long and venerable tradition, whereby they had accrued comparative authority. Such were some hymns of the antiphoner (only four at the beginning, and later more were allowed) and the fa- Amerikanistik der Universität Salzburg, 1996), 115-118. About the regional influences on the Carthusian liturgy, see also Degand, "Chartreux", and Arthur Archdale King, Liturgies of the Religious Orders (London and New York: Longmans, Green & Co., 1955). - Becker's thesis that the Carthusian Office had been a secular one at first, with nine lessons and nine great responsories for the Matins, with three lessons and responsories added later, found great but not general approval; for a thesis about the monastic origin of the Carthusian office, see Benoît Lambres "L'antiphonaire des chartreux", in Études grégoriennes, vol. 14, ed. Joseph Gajard (Solesmes: Abbaye Saint-Pierre de Solesmes, 1973), 214-216. 7 Hansjakob Becker, "'Cartusia nunquam reformata quia nunquam deformata': Liturgiereformen bei den Kartäusern in Vergangenheit und Gegenwart", in Liturgiereformen: Historische Studien zu einem bleibenden Grundzug des christlichen Gottesdienstes, ed. Martin Klöckner and Benedikt Kranemann, Liturgiewissenschaftlichen Quellen und Forschungen 88/1 (Münster: Aschendorff, 2002), 336-337. 8 A study of the application of this principle to a group of the antiphons was carried out by John B. Wickstrom, "The Antiphons adpsalmos of Carthusian Lauds", in Kartäuserliturgie und Kartäuserschriftum, vol. 1, ed. James Hogg, Analecta cartusiana 116/1 (Salzburg: Institut für Anglistik und Amerikanistik der Universität Salzburg, 1988), 7-33. 9 Becker, Responsorien, 90-110. Even though there were some second thoughts on the exact number and exact contents of these criteria, they did not seem to put their existence into any question, and the criteria themselves were readily accepted as a welcome apparatus for understanding and research of Carthusian plainchant, especially of the antiphoner chants. mous advent O-antiphons. Even the small Carthusian Sanctorale, which expanded only slightly over the course of the centuries, accepted new chants with new texts only rare-ly.10 The majority of new feasts in the Carthusian liturgy usually consisted of common chants for related occasions; thus, the Finding of St Stephen's relics was celebrated, but with ordinary chants for St Stephen, and even the feast of St Stephen itself consisted partly of the proper chants and partly of the common chants for one martyr.11 Such a strict attitude towards the source of the chanted texts puts even more weight on the importance of the remaining texts selected for chanting. In addition, the chants are sung during the common liturgy of the monks, who are devoted to prayer and work in silence and solitude at other times of the day. The moment of chanting surpasses the silence and solitude and replaces these with the word of God, and so the chanted words are given a more elevated status than spoken words (which should be rare, as the rule prohibits too much communication and speaking among solitary monks). The biblical criterion was not a Carthusian invention. It was strongly connected with their sense of tradition and authority. They did not want to create anything new; quite the opposite, they wanted to return to the pristine sources of the monastic and eremitic life; and what greater "source of sources" could there be than the Bible, even if there were some other respected works (such as the works of the Desert Fathers)? Here they were not the first to think this way; a strong influence for the Carthusian biblical principle was definitely Agobard, an Archbishop of Lyons in the ninth century. In his late works De divina psalmodia and De correctione antiphonarii, among others,12 he strived for reforms of the antiphoner and its chants and he was very much against non-biblical texts for the chants.13 The Carthusians took many of his principles, but they were not as radical; Amand Degand mentions the example of the Tenebrae responsory, which was rejected by Agobard and yet accepted by the Carthusians.14 In comparison to other traditions (the responsories from the Benedictine and Cluniac traditions), the Carthusian version is shorter and, even if all traditions combine New Testament texts, it is the Carthusian version that pays special attention to the double exclamation "deus meus," which is found in the Bible; other traditions do not repeat the exclamation twice. Agobard might have also influenced the Carthusians' opinion on musical performance of the liturgy. The famous bishop, in commenting on theatrical (and also sung) performances in church, strongly opposed any excess in the performance of 10 About the Carthusian Sanctorale, see Degand, "Chartreux", and Jacques Hourlier and Benoît du Moustier, "Le calendrier cartusien", in Études grégoriennes, vol. 2, ed. Joseph Gajard (Solesmes: Abbaye Saint-Pierre de Solesmes, 1957), 151-161. 11 In his study of the antiphon variants, Falvy included two Carthusian manuscripts: UB Graz 7 and Melk Stiftsbibliothek 1139, both from the fifteenth century; the latter, however, is probably not Carthusian. Except for the antiphon Misso Herodes (which has a biblical text), all other antiphons (honouring the Holy Virgin, St Michael and St Martin) are missing from the Carthusian manuscript. See Zoltàn Falvy, "Über Antiphonvarianten aus dem Österreichisch-Ungarisch-Tschechoslowakischen Raum", Studien zur Musikwissenschaft 26 (1964), 9-24. - However, even in the Carthusian tradition one finds some exceptions with newly written texts and composed offices; such are the works of two Basle Carthusians: the Prior Heinrich Arnoldi from the fifteenth century and Thomas Kress from the sixteenth century. 12 Patrologia Latina, vol. 104 (which contains also Agobard's opera omnia), ed. Jacques-Paul Migne, 329-340 (De correctione antiphonarii), and 325-330 (De divina psalmodia). 13 E. Debroise, "Agobard", in Dictionnaire d'archéologie chrétienne et de liturgie, vol. 1/1, ed. Fernand Cabrol et al. (Paris: Librairie Letouzey et Ané, 1924), 972-976. On Agobard's thoughts, see also Allen Cabaniss, Agobard of Lyons: Churchman and Critic (Syracuse: Syracuse University Press, 1953), 93. 14 Degand, "Chartreux," 1050. the chant, and this was his probably his opinion on chanting in general. The attention should not be focused on the singers, but only on God; the singers should sing more with their hearts than with their voices.15 This thought also is present in the Carthusian rite and its aesthetics of selecting and performing Gregorian chant. Other criteria of Carthusian chant selection Before continuing with the connection between biblical texts and Carthusian chant texts, here is a brief discussion of Becker's other criteria.16 The principle of simplicity refers to Guigo's reduction of the repertoire. He claimed that the Carthusians excluded melodies that were too demanding to be learned by heart and performed in such small communities, but they did not change or reform the musical shape of the chants once they were accepted. Also, with the adoption of the biblical criterion, the quantity of acceptable repertoire was already significantly reduced; in addition, the order's Sanc-torale with proper chants was not large. Thus, in comparison to other traditions the Carthusian chant repertoire seems relatively small. The criterion of tradition means that the chants are taken from older traditions. Only twenty per cent of the responsory repertoire is not able to be brought into connection with the antiphoners discussed by Hesbert in his Corpus antiphonalium officii. But since the Carthusians collected their chants from different sources and traditions, not from one prototype, their repertoire encompasses the echoes of various monastic and regionally important traditions. The criterion of chant ordering is very much connected to the biblical criterion. The chants are sorted and ordered by their texts: the textual ordering of the Bible and relations between the biblical texts are of great importance for the chant texts. This criterion caused the greatest confusion regarding the chants of the Carthusian rite: because of it the Carthusian chants appear in a different order than the chants of other traditions. Re-sacralization of the texts of the Carthusian chant: (re) biblicization The Bible was accepted as the only authoritative source for the texts of the Carthusian liturgy. With the adoption of the biblical criterion, the number of the chants acceptable for the Carthusian rite became relatively small, and with an utterly strict adoption of this criterion it would had been even smaller. However, the Carthusians also accepted many chants with only partially biblical texts: in these the Bible texts were mixed with other words, or very different passages from the Bible were glued together. The Carthusians also adjusted some of these chants for their own use in a special way: they tried to bring their texts closer to the biblical words and order. This process is 15 Patrologia Latina, 334 B-C; see translation and comments in Donnalee Dox, The Idea of the Theater in Latin Christian Thought: Augustine to the Fourteenth Cenutry (Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan Press, 2004), 65-66. 16 See Becker, Responsorien, 98-110. called the "biblicization" (or, in some cases, "re-biblicization") of the texts, and with it Carthusian chant achieved one of its most characteristic features. Chants with texts that went too much astray from the Bible were excluded from the Carthusian compilation right away. But some of them were deemed to be acceptable with the text changes.17 Sometimes the changes in the texts were small and sometimes more extensive, reaching into the very essentials. This process also included different ordering of the textual passages: it tried to bring them closer to the original biblical succession of text passages and events. The end result in the Carthusian repertoire is not as strict as the principle itself. The texts of the Carthusian chants are based on the Bible, but some do not have completely biblical texts. There is only the question of lesser or greater fidelity to the Scripture, and once the text crossed the limit it was to be corrected or its problematic passage(s) were to be replaced; if it crossed another limit, it was best eliminated (together with its chant). Considering that the Bible was the most sacred, holy text, preferred above all the other sacred texts, this process can be referred to the "re-sacralization of the sacred." Connections between text and music Along with the various textual changes caused by the adoption of the biblical criterion, various musical changes also had to be made. The Carthusian chant texts have been relatively well-researched in general, especially by Becker, but there has been no comprehensive study that shows how the music was affected by the formation of the Carthusian text tradition. The (re)biblicization of the texts also has nothing to do with the fact that attending to the uniformity of the melodies in the order came later than concern for the unified texts; the existence of local melodic variants was not connected with the process of (re)biblicizing the texts. But here again, the order sought connections to tradition and authority: their adaptations tried to retain as much of the original contours and characteristics of individual chants as possible, and they never carried out a musical reform such as that of the Cistercians, for example.18 So what was this new music, then? The picture of the new textual and musical unities must become clearer in comparison. Compared to the chants of other traditions that retained the old texts, even if those were already remote from the original Bible texts, the Carthusian texts show how 17 In Guigo's own words from the Prologue: "Wherefore we have considered that certain things should be removed from the Antiphonary, or shortened. Things, namely, which for the most part, were either superfluous or were unsuitably composed, inserted or added, or had but little or doubtful guarantee for their authenticity, or none at all; or were guilty of levity, awkwardness or falsity. Further, anyone who carefully reads the Sacred Scriptures, namely, the Old and New Testaments cannot but know whether what has been emended or added is correct." Cited after Monk of Parkminster, "The Carthusian Liturgy: Part One", Magnificat: A Liturgical Quarterly 2, no. 12 (1941), 5-11. Available on the website: . 18 On the Cistercian plainchant reform, see Claire Maître, "L'enseignement de la musique au XlIe siècle chez les cisterciens", in L'enseignement de la musique au Moyen Age et à la Renaissance: Rencontres du Royaumont; Colloque 5 et 6 juillet 1985 (Royaumont: Editions Royaumont, 1985), 81-85. See also Manuel Pedro Ferreira, "La réforme cistercienne du chant liturgique revisitée: Guy d'Eu et les premiers livres de chant cisterciens", Revue de Musicologie 89, no. 1 (2003): 47-56. they became "re-sacralized" through their "(re)biblicization." In addition, it is possible to see how this process influenced the music. The results cannot offer a final formula regarding how such procedures were developed, but they nevertheless enable a better understanding of the relationship between the sacred texts and their music in a specific monastic tradition of the late Middle Ages. In his article on Carthusian chant and the Prüll Charterhouse, David Hiley offered one of the rare examples of a melodic comparison between the Carthusian and other (general) traditions (for which the Cistercian example was selected) on the example of the Epiphany responsory. Even in one single chant the re-biblicization in the Carthusian version was obvious. The traditional version consists of passages taken from the Gospel of St Matthew (2:1 and 2:2). The connection between them is quite loose with regard to the end of the response and the beginning of the verse, but then the ending of the verse flows smoothly into the repeated part of the response. The Carthusians omitted the Matt 2:2 passage and their response with its verse consists only from the text of Matt 2:1. The shorter text means that less music is needed, but even so the musical phrases seem to flow quite smoothly from one to another.19 Hiley's comparison shows how an already "good" biblical chant text, composed from two Bible passages, had been put into an even more correct relationship to the Bible in regard to the succession of the Bible text passages. But what about other examples? It seems that the possibilities of "(re)biblicization" are: i. Unifying the Bible passages and their order; ii. Re-biblicization the quasi-biblical texts that have gone astray from the Bible version; iii. Replacing the non-biblical texts or text passages with Bible texts. The Office of the Prophets as an example of (re)biblicization A series of the responsories from a selected office—the Office of the Prophets for the summer readings—is shown here in comparison with various sources, including a Carthusian antiphoner.20 It can be logically expected that the texts for this office are taken mostly from the Old Testament and that they are biblical; but it is also important to check if potential differences between the traditions can spring out of the Carthusian biblical criterion. The order of the responsories in various traditions is shown in Table 1. Next to the Carthusian antiphoner from the thirteenth century (Graz 273), there are representatives of other contemplative monastic traditions (Benedictine, Cluniac, and Cistercian antiphoners: Graz 30, Paris 12044, and Paris n.a.lat. 1411); there are also some Aquita-nian manuscripts that may have had more local connections to the Carthusian tradition (Paris 1090 and Toledo 44.2). The Carthusians and the Cistercians have twelve respon- 19 David Hiley, "Der Gregorianische Gesang bei den Kartäusern und im Kloster Prüll", in 1000Jahre Kultur in Karthaus-Prüll: Geschichte undForschung vor den Toren Regensburgs; Festhschrift zum Jubiläum des ehemaligen Kösters, ed. Bezirk Oberpfalz (Regensburg: Verlag Friedrich Pustet, 1997), 239-240. 20 For the shortened names and descriptions of the manuscripts used in the comparison, see Sources and bibliography below. sories with verses for this office and all the other manuscripts have more responsories; there are more opportunities to find a chant common to the Carthusian tradition and a tradition with more chants. In general, seen from the point of view of the twelve Carthusian responsories, the Carthusian antiphoner has eight or nine responses in common with the other traditions; this represents sixty-six or seventy-five per cent of the Carthusian Prophets' Office. The Carthusian antiphoner has four to six verses in common with other traditions (33-50%), even if there are altogether more verses than responses in the responsories. The ordering of the responsories with their verses is also interesting. Even if there are differences among the antiphoners of the other traditions, in these the individual respon-sories can be found in the same places of this office. Because of the ordering-chants criterion described above, this cannot be said for the Carthusian antiphoner. Table 2 shows the responsory texts of the Carthusian Prophets' Office (orthography is taken from Graz 273, whereas I have added the punctuation). Their ordering is connected mostly with the strict succession of individual texts from the Old Testament. This order is interrupted only by a Psalm-text responsory at the end of each Nocturn (see the second column of Table 2). On first glance they seem to be out of place, but they are standard in the Carthusian tradition and one of its unique characteristics (other traditions do not have the same phenomenon): these responsories can be found first on the second Sunday after Epiphany / Sundays per annum, and later in many other places in the antiphoner, such as in other offices of the summer readings, at the end of each Nocturn.21 Table 2 also shows underlined text passages for which differences in the texts of the same responsories can be found between Graz 273 (Carthusian tradition) and other antiphoners. Next to the examples of the types of the textual differences, the musical differences are described. i. The Carthusian tradition often starts the repeated part of the response (repeten-dum) in a different place than other traditions (in the Office of the Prophets); the latter begin at places such as "tota die," "facere," "non," "quia"). In the responsory Super muros, the non-Carthusian antiphoners begin their repetendum with "tota die," whereas Graz 273 begins it with "laudantes" (other antiphoners have "laudare" here). The non-Carthusian traditions finish the previous musical phrase on the note 'd' and begin the repetendum with the note 'c,' while Graz 273 has the note 'c' as the final note of the previous phrase and also as the beginning of the repetendum. However, in this manuscript this place might have been an emendation in order to make the passage into the repetendum smoother. ii. The non-Carthusian antiphoners sometimes use a completely different word, compound word, or word order than the Carthusian antiphoner ("laudantes," "verun-tamen rursus," "peccare in conspectu domini," "redimet," "liberabit"). In the responsory Fluctus tui, the compound word "veruntamen rursus" of the Carthusian version appears as "putas" in the non-Carthusian antiphoners (see). This is also the place of the beginning of the repetendum; here it begins in the same place in all traditions, but with 21 It was precisely this combination of the biblical ordering of the responsory texts on the one hand and the appearance of the "general" responsories at the end of each of the three Nocturns on the other that led Becker to his assumptions about the secular origin of the Carthusian office (secular offices have three responsories per each Nocturn). different texts because the Carthusian version is re-biblicized. The beginning of the "veruntamen rursus" in the Carthusian tradition is also musically different than in the non-Carthusian tradition: it begins on the note 'f' while others start with 'g.' All phrases have the same musical ending before going on to "videbo." But there is another strange occurrence: the phrase before the repetendum ends with the clivis 'gf' in two antiphoners, including the Carthusian one. At least in the Carthusian case the passage to the repetendum in the response part is smoother. iii. In some places the non-Carthusian antiphoners have an added text or a completely different longer text passage than the Carthusian antiphoner ("et quid eligam ignoro"). The example from the responsory Angustiae mihi sunt is described below. iv. The non-Carthusian antiphoners sometimes use a different responsory verse even if the response is the same. The verses are also bound to different traditions, so they themselves cannot be representatives of the biblical reliability of the text. Nevertheless, a short glance at the verses reveals that the Carthusian responsory verses are closer to the Bible than those of the other traditions, or at least that they tried to connect the biblical passages of the responses and verses more tightly. Such is the case with the verse of the responsory Fluctus tui, which is taken from the Book of Jonas (Jon 2:4-5). In the Carthusian tradition, Jonas' text in the verse is a direct continuation of the response, and in other traditions a few words are omitted. The melodies of the verses are mostly standardized, but even then it would not make much sense to compare them in detail because their texts might be very different. The responsory Angustiae mihi in different traditions and its biblical correctness The responsory Angustiae mihi (Example 2) is the eleventh responsory of the Carthusian Prophets' Office series; with this, the Carthusian tradition is one of the rare traditions that positions this responsory here (see also Table 1). In the list of sources indexed by Cantus, there are only two manuscripts that put this responsory in the eleventh place.22 It is true that many sources have not been indexed by Cantus yet, and considering that the position of this chant varies from source to source depending on the tradition, the final word had not yet been said—but yet it seems that the principle of (biblical) ordering was the reason for this position of the responsory Angustiae mihi. The responsory is composed in the eighth mode in all the sources included in Example 2. In Graz 30, the majority of the response (which, after repeating the repetendum part, concludes the piece) is in the eighth mode, the musical phrases coincide exactly with those in Graz 273. However, the last phrase in Graz 30 is written one note higher and so it ends on the note 'a,' which is probably an error. The text of the responsory Angustiae mihi is given below: after the response part of the responsory, there follows the repetendum (in italics) which is repeated after the 22 These are Roma, Biblioteca Vallicelliana, C.5, and Firenze (Florence), Biblioteca Medicea-Laurenziana, Conv. sopp. 560; the positions of other chants of the Carthusian tradition do not coincide with these two sources. Cantus database, . verse; V stands for the verse: Carthusian tradition R Angustiae mihi sunt undique. Other traditions R Angustiae mihi sunt undique et quid eligam ignoro. Sed melius est michi incidere in manus hominum quam peccare in Melius est michi incidere in manus hominum quam derelinquere legem dei mei. conspectu domini. [Dan 13:22-23 = Sus 1:22-23] [Dan 13:22-23 = Sus 1:22-23; Phil 1:22] V Si enim hoc egero, mors mihi est, V Si enim hoc egero, mors mihi est, si si autem non egero, non effugiam autem non egero, non effugiam manus manus vestras. vestras. Sed melius... Melius est... [Dan 13:22] [Dan 13:22] The Vulgate version is as follows [Dan 1:22-23]: Ingemuit Susanna, et ait: Angustiae sunt mihi undique: si enim hoc egero, mors mihi est: si autem non egero, non effugiam manus vestras. Sed melius est mihi absque opere incidere in manus vestras, quam peccare in conspectu Domini. The English translation is taken from the King James Bible [Sus 1:22-23]: Then Susanna sighed, and said, I am straitened on every side: for if I do this thing, it is death unto me: and if I do it not I cannot escape your hands. It is better for me to fall into your hands, and not do it, than to sin in the sight of the Lord. The words of the responsory are spoken by Susanna, whom two old men are trying to falsely accuse of adultery because they desired her themselves and she would not indulge them. The prophet Daniel interrogates the two men separately and finds great inconsistencies in their stories, so Susanna's life and reputation are saved. For the beginning of the response and for the whole verse, line 22 (Daniel) is used in all sources. But the non-Carthusian sources add words "et quid eligam ignoro" which cannot be found in the Vulgate in the Book of Daniel. They are taken from St Paul's letter to the Philippians (1:22). Here Paul writes about his preaching Christ's works and about his hopes that Christ himself will be glorified through Paul's preaching. The context of Paul's words in the English translation is as follows (the King James Bible): "For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. But if I live in the flesh, this is the fruit of my labour: yet what I shall choose I wot not." The Carthusian source does not contain these words, which could perhaps explain Susanna's distress a little better and would not be unsuitable by their contents (the dilemma of choosing), yet would mix together two completely different biblical passages coming from two different contexts. Their connection might be meaningful, but the Carthusians preferred the pure Old-Testament version. The repetendum part of the response brings new differences between the versions. The Carthusian version remains closer to the Bible text although it does not retain it strictly: the biblical words "absque opere" are omitted in the Carthusian responsory, and instead of "manus vestras" there is "manus hominum." Both these things seem to be taken from the tradition, because they are also found in the Benedictine and other antiphoners. However, the Benedictine version does not stay with the biblical words strictly to the end: it says a similar thing, but in other words (the Carthusians have "pec-care in conspectu domini," and the Benedictines have "derelinquere legem dei mei"). All these words can be found in different parts of the Bible, but the Carthusian version accepted only more unified combinations. Thus, here the Carthusians have either taken the more biblical tradition or re-biblicized the text, which has gone astray from one individual Bible passage. What about the music of this piece? The darker colour in Example 2 indicates the places in which other traditions differ from the Carthusian one. The lighter colour shows the places where differences among other traditions are found. For the first part of the response there are no significant differences; overall it appears that different traditions tend to employ the notes 'b' and 'c' differently. The first phrase is concluded on the note 'f' and the second one (found only in the non-Carthusian traditions) on the note 'a,' which represents a contrast in the eighth mode. It is interesting that the non-Carthusian traditions begin the repetendum on the note 'f,' only the Carthusian tradition has a clivis 'af,' as if wanting to make up for the loss of the previous phrase ending with 'a' in other traditions; or perhaps it wants to stress the word "sed" with which it replaces and summarizes the "missing part" which came from Paul's letter in other traditions. And whereas the other traditions reach for the note 'a' in "melius est," the Carthusian tradition heads directly towards the note 'g,' which is reached a little later in the versions of other traditions. Here there are only small, but characteristic melodic differences: they concern the use of the whole tone or semitone between the notes 'b'/'bb' and 'c' or 'e' and 'f,' some notes are repeated in some traditions and in others they are not.23 But in the place of the words "peccare" in the Carthusian tradition and "derelinquere" in the others it is not possible to find any difference in the music in spite of the textual difference (except for smaller variants in some traditions; but these variants are not connected to the use of the certain text). There are also some typical uses of the series of the notes 'f,' 'a,' and 'c' as a variant of the series 'g,' 'a,' and 'c' (on the words "in conspectu" or "legem"). This note series represents a typical beginning of the phrase in the eighth mode (and the eighth psalm tone as well). The Carthusian tradition shares the 'f,' 'a' and 'c' notes with the Aquitanian and Cluniac traditions whereas other antiphoners have 'g,' 'a' and 'c.' There might be a scribal error in Graz 30 because the end of the response is written one note higher than the melody in other traditions, and the chant does not end on the "correct" final note. 23 In this particular manuscript of the Carthusian tradition (Graz 273) the b-flats are usually later additions. Concerning the verse, one can observe that some traditions stay longer on the recitation note of the eighth mode (this is also connected with the choice of the note 'b' or 'c'), but the differences here are slight. These differences usually represent local variants or even the variant of one single monastery. They have no connection to the lesser or greater biblical reliability of the text. Conclusion In the Carthusian tradition, the word of God, the Bible and its coherence or unity-its contents and form, so to speak—are more sacred than newly-written texts, however inspired, pious, and accepted for sacred use they might be elsewhere. The Carthusian "re-sacralization" of the sacred texts means not only excluding non-biblical texts, but also putting aside many later constructions and reconstructions of the Bible texts, such as re-ordering and mixing of the biblical texts or paraphrases of them. No detail is too small to be left behind; the application of the biblical criterion is thorough, yet flexible. In regard to music of the re-sacralized text passages one could speak about the "principle of the tradition" as well: even the places that were textually changed tried to retain the shape, ordering, and structure of the standard musical phrases. Some smaller variants only make the Carthusian tradition closer to some local traditions of the order's homeland. If necessary, some very small procedures are taken to make the melodic passages between individual phrases smooth. The Carthusians did not compose new chants; instead, they tried to take for them what they considered to be the best of the tradition based on the primacy of the text: the authentic and the authoritative versions of the texts that were guaranteed by the Bible itself, and the valued Gregorian melodies. Sewn together with as few stitches as necessary, the new "re-creations" of the chants, with biblicized texts and adapted melodies, are liturgical music that is condensed and unified in its contents, and at the same time aesthetically effective. Thus, the (re)bibli-cization of the Carthusian chants gave them firmer textual ground without impoverishing their musical form. Sources and databases Graz 29 (A-Gu 29): Universitätsbibliothek Graz, Hs. 29, Antiphonarium benedicti-num pars hiemalis, monastery St. Lambrecht, ca. 1400. Benedictine (monastic) tradition. The index of the manuscript is available in the Cantus database. The manuscript is available on the website of the University Library of Graz: . Graz 30 (A-Gu 30): Universitätsbibliothek Graz, Hs. 30, Antiphonarium benedicti-num pars aestiva, monastery St. Lambrecht, ca. 1400. Benedictine (monastic) tradition. The index of the manuscript is available in the Cantus database. The manuscript is available on the website of the University Library of Graz: . Graz 273 (A-Gu 273): Universitätsbibliothek Graz, Hs. 273, Antiphonarium cartus-iense, Zice (Seitz), between 1271 and 1318. Carthusian (monastic) tradition. The manuscript is available on the website of the University Library of Graz: . Paris lat. 1090 (F-Pn lat. 1090): Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France - Département des manuscrits, fonds lat. 1090, Antiphonarium Massiliense, antiphoner from the Marseille cathedral, between 1190 and 1200. Aquitanian (cathedral) tradition. The index of the manuscript is available in the Cantus database. The manuscript is available online in Gallica: . Paris n.a.lat. 1411 (F-Pn n. a. lat. 1411): Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France - Nouvelles acquisitions latines 1411, antiphoner from the monastery Santa Maria de Mo-rimondo, 12th century. Cistercian (monastic) tradition. The index of the manuscript is available in the Cantus database. The facsimile was published in: Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, Nouvelles acquisitions latines 1411: Un antipho-naire Cistercien pour le temporal XIIe sciècle ; Introduction, table, index, edited by Claire Maître. Le Mécénat Musical Société Générale and La Direction de la Danse au ministère de la Culture: Poitiers, 2009. Paris lat. 12044 (F-Pn lat. 12044): Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France - Département des manuscrits, lat. 12044, Antiphonarium ad usum sancti Mauri Fossatensis, antiphoner from the monastery of St.-Maur-des-Fossés, early 12th century. Cluni-ac (monastic) tradition. The index of the manuscript is available in the Cantus database. The manuscript is available online in Bibliothèque numérique Gallica (digital collections of the Bibliothèque nationale de France): . Toledo 44.2 (E-Tc 44.2): Toledo, Archivo y Biblioteca Capitulares, Aquitanian (cathedral) tradition. The index of the manuscript is available in the Cantus database and in: Olexy, Ronald T., Joseph P. Metzinger, Keith Falconer, Lila Collamore, and Richard Rice (with the introduction by Ruth Steiner). An Aquitanian antiphoner: Toledo, Biblioteca capitular, 44.2: Printouts from an Index in Machine-Readable Form. Ottawa: The Institue of Medieaeval Music, 1992. Cantus database, . (Accessed between April 2013 and September 2014.) Gallica:, Bibliothèque nationale de France, . (Accessed between April 2013 and September 2014.) King James Bible. The ARTFL Project: Multilingual Bibles. . Latin Vulgate. The ARTFL Project: Multilingual Bibles. . Bibliography Becker, Hansjakob. 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The Idea of the Theater in Latin Christian Thought: Augustine to the Fourteenth Cenutry. Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan Press, 2004. Emerson, John A. "Plainchant: 7: Chant in the religious orders." In Grove Music Online, edited by L. Macy, available online: . (Accesed May 30, 2013, and August 3, 2014.) Falvy, Zoltän. "Über Antiphonarvarianten aus dem Österreichisch-Ungarisch-Tschechoslowakischen Raum." Studien zur Musikwissenschaft 26 (1964): 9-24. Ferreira, Manuel Pedro. "La réforme cistercienne du chant liturgique revisitée: Guy d'Eu et les premiers livres de chant cisterciens." Revue de Musicologie 89, no. 1 (2003): 47-56. Hiley, David. "Der Gregorianische Gesang bei den Kartäusern und im Kloster Prüll."In 1000Jahre Kultur in Karthaus-Prüll: Geschichte und Forschung vor den Toren Re-gensburgs; Festhschrift zum Jubiläum des ehemaligen Klosters, edited by Bezirk Oberpfalz, 236-243. Regensburg: Verlag Friedrich Pustet, 1997. Hogg, James. "The Carthusian Order from its foundation to the present day." In Analecta cartusiana, edited by James Hogg, Alain Girard and Daniel le Blévec, Analecta car-tusiana 225, 7-26. Salzburg: Institut für Anglistik und Amerikanistik der Universität Salzburg, 2005. Hourlier, Jacques, and Benoît du Moustier. "Le calendrier cartusien." In Études grégoriennes, vol. 2, edited by Joseph Gajard, 151-161. Solesmes: Abbaye Saint-Pierre de Solesmes, 1957. Hüschen, Heinrich. "Kartäuser." In Die Musik in Geschichte und Gegenwart, vol. 7, edited by Friedrich Blume, 706-714. Kassel: Bärenreiter, 1958. King, Arthur Archdale. Liturgies of the Religious Orders. London and New York: Longmans, Green & Co., 1955. Lambres, Benoît. "L'antiphonaire des chartreux." In Études grégoriennes, vol. 14, edited by Joseph Gajard, 213-218. Solesmes: Abbaye Saint-Pierre de Solesmes, 1973. Maître, Claire. "L'enseignement de la musique au XIIe siècle chez les cisterciens." In L'enseignement de la musique au Moyen Age et à la Renaissance: Rencontres du Royaumont; Colloque 5 et 6 juillet 1985, 80-86. Royaumont: Editions Royaumont, 1985. Mlinaric, Jože. Kartuziji Žiče in Jurklošter. Maribor: Založba Obzorja, 1991. Monk of Parkminster. "The Carthusian Liturgy: Part One." Magnificat: A Liturgical Quarterly 2, no. 12 (1941), 5-11. Available on the website: . (Accesed January 26, 2014.) Moulin, Léo. "Note sur les particularités de l'ordre cartusien." In Historia et spiritualitas cartusiensis: Acta colloquii quarti internationali, edited by Jan de Grauwe, 283-288. Destelbergen and Saint-Etienne: Centre Européen de Recherches sur les Congrégations et Ordres Monastiques, 1983. Patrologia Latina, vol. 104, edited by Jacques-Paul Migne, 329-340 (De correctione an-tiphonarii), and vol. 104, 325-330 (De divinapsalmodia). Picard, Jean. "La liturgie cartusienne, source principale de spiritualité: éléments de recherches sur les sources de son histoire." In Historia et spiritualitas cartusiensis: Acta colloquii quarti internationali, edited by Jan de Grauwe, 289-301. Destelbergen and Saint-Etienne: Centre Européen de Recherches sur les Congrégations et Ordres Monastiques, 1983. Wickstrom, John B. "The Antiphons ad psalmos of Carthusian Lauds." In Kartäuserliturgie und Kartäuserschriftum, vol. 1, edited by James Hogg, 7-33. Analecta cartusiana 116/1. Salzburg: Institut für Anglistik und Amerikanistik der Universität Salzburg, 1988. < & B A n u e i < & i n s u m i e i 0 i s u 1 n 3 i is < < s s d d e o C 3 I & o s i I & c A c d SL S u s c o c s e s 3 I & g < & A d sd 3 b I C q sc cr o n c l. I I & n o C e* e I < i L r u S EL I S v s S < & Q U i ni s 3i ni de s a n ll iIe In3 e Literatur-Opern<", in Franco Alfano. Presagio di tempi nuovi confinale controcorrente, ed. by Rino Maione/Francesco Canessa (Milano: Rugginenti, 1999 (De Musica 4)), pp. 67-88, pp. 67f. 42 Mallach, The Autumn of Italian Opera..., p. 299. show that the audience at that time was captivated by Alfano's opera, even though the critics measured the work with Puccini's - and spurned it.43 The audience's sagacity should not be underestimated - it reflected the desire to experience, besides artistic enjoyment, some entertainment. Although opera performances - not only in Italy, but all over Europe - were attended by differently cultured classes44, in the end for all those a longing for pleasure formed the main impulse to enter an opera house. That is why theatres offered saloons for conversation, dining and sometimes even for gambling.45 On the other hand, in Italy more than anywhere else, also small cities operated a theatre that occasionally was staged by opera troops, and that is why the genre became a matter of national interest. Estimation and opinion of the public were based on rich knowledge - as a distinct production was seldom attended one single time, but usually repeatedly, and (apart from guest performances of famous singers) the attendance of operas was mainly understood as the participation in a social event.46 In Italy the extraordinary value of opera in social life did not even change in the years around 1900, when the achievement of national unity ensued in economic crises and the formation of a new leading society, consisting of officials and enterprisers, enveloped the whole state. Perhaps, because this recent upper class wanted to dress up in personal profiles, the 'bourgeois' opera received an aesthetic turn - whilst the repertory remained open for new works. In particular, themes and their artificial design were qualified intellectually.47 Alfano matched these expectations perfectly. Tolstoy had regarded the title of his novel as a motto, and he had cared for this literally with the help of reminiscences effecting the subliminal, sometimes hardly noticeable presence of a guiding line.48 With regard to this Hanau and Alfano integrated a stylized Easter choral as to envision the idea of resurrection and, simultaneously, to connect the decisive moments within the action. The choral's first appearance - when Dmitry and Katyusha find each other for the first time after Easter Mass - corresponds with Tolstoy's novel, its second occurrence in the last scene, however, differs from the model and actually replaces Tolstoy's ending up in long quotations from the bible. Instead, a sensitive expression of atmosphere arises: In the first act the easterly "Cristo 43 Josef-Horst Lederer, Verismo auf der deutschsprachigen Opernbühne 1891-1926. Ein Untersuchung seiner Rezeption durch die zeitgenössische musikalische Fachpresse (Wien/Köln/Weimar: Böhlau, 1992 (Wiener musikwissenschaftliche Beiträge 19)), p. 207. Recent reviews of the work are only available in Italian language: Orselli, "»Risurrezione« e »Cyrano de Bergerac«: ...", pp. 69-77, and Gherardo Ghirardini, "Dio pietoso. »Risurrezione« di Franco Alfano ad un secolo dalla >prima<", in Musicaaa! Periodico di cultura musicale, vol. 10 (2004): pp. 16-19. 44 Cf. Michael Walter, »Die Oper ist ein Irrenhaus«. Sozialgeschichte der Oper im 19. Jahrhundert, J. B. (Stuttgart/Weimar: Metzler, 1997, chapter "Das Publikum der Oper"), pp. 318-341. Cf. also the reviews reproduced by Lederer, Verismo auf der deutschsprachigen Opernbühne.... 45 Carlotta Sorba, ">In die Oper gehen im 19. Jahrhundert: Orte, Publikum und Tendenzen des italienischen romantischen Melodrams", in Zibaldone. Zeitschrift für italienische Kultur der Gegenwart, vol. 35 (2003): pp. 21-31, p. 25. On the whole this contribution - just as the study by Michael Walter quoted in footnote 44 - shows that the audience in times of the Italian Risorgimento was attracted by opera performances not only by nationalistic tendencies, but also by culturally set self identifications in all social classes. 46 Sorba, ">In die Oper gehen< ...", p. 27. 47 Cf. Mallach, The Autumn of Italian Opera..., esp. the chapters "Prologue" (pp. 3-20), "The Rise of Bourgois Opera in a Changing Nation" (pp. 122-150), "The End of the Era" (pp. 337-362). 48 Following the edition Leo N. Tolstoi, Auferstehung, complete translation into German by Adolf Heß (Leipzig, s. a.: Insel Verlag, [c. 1920]), pp. 81-86, 199f., 266, 366, 383f., 476 (for the first time from the perspective of both protagonists of the novel), 638. e risuscitato!" is a remote sound and merely this line of the text can be understood verbally; the choral's rest - as if something is to be delayed - is sung "a bocca chiusa", the choir buzzes. The transfiguring last bars of the opera, however, move forth to the "Osanna", and the desire to close the past, as well as the conclusiveness of the new become apparent in the indication "Largo (come all'inizio dell'opera)" for the last ten bars of the score. Rarely ever such an impression of a threshold between this and the other world is conveyed on stage. It seems to be difficult to realize such a situation dramatically with the help of music, whereas several works aim at a similar message by means of an orchestra or some instruments only.49 Gustav Mahler demands a large orchestra, vocal soloists and choir for his Second Symphony in C minor (composed 1888-1894). The symphony is referred to as "Resurrection" Symphony, though the name does not originate from Mahler, who allegedly was inspired for the fifth and last movement of the symphony when attending the requiem for the famous conductor and pianist Hans von Bulow. Mahler, with this work, went beyond dimensions accepted so far, thus provoking irritation. His "Resurrection" Symphony with its setting of Klopstock's poem of the same title actually approaches a dramatic solution. Yet Mahler, like others, evaded action and the pooling of this and the other world in a dramatic context, did not dare to break the barrier between worldly and transcendental spheres decisively. However, as Handel and Alfano have shown from very different points of departure, sacrality can of course be represented in secular terms, as long as the composer is willing to manage the coexistence of expectations and appropriate stylistic means. POVZETEK Čeprav usidrana v dolgi tradiciji sakralne glasbe, je predstavitev Kristusovega vstajenja dobila pomemben impulz leta 1708, ko je mladi Georg Friedrich Händel s svojim rimskim oratorijem La Resurrezione osvetlil dramatično plat dogodka. Čeprav Händel - in, to moramo dodati, tudi njegov znani librettist Carlo Sigismondo Capece - ni načrtoval nastopa Kristusa na odru, so ga k temu privedle možnosti, ki jih je brez bojazni za stroške omogočil kardinal markiz Francesco Maria Ruspo-li. Gledališko vzdušje sta v njegovi 'Sala grande' ustvarjala velika slika vstajenja za odrom in skrivnostno osvetljen trak, na katerem je bil napisan naslov oratorija. Skladatelja so morala spodbuditi bogata glasbena sredstva: briljantni vokalni solisti in veliki orkester, sestavljen iz najboljših rimskih glasbenikov tistega časa. Posledično je Händel ustvaril premišljeno, barvito, za izvajalce zahtevno partituro. Pomembnost izvedbe in kasneje bleščeča kariera skladatelja bi nas morda vodila k misli, da je delo prineslo spremembo v obravnavi tematike vstajenja v glasbi. Pa ni bilo tako. Namesto tega so, pod vplivom razsvetljenstva, pravila luteranskega oratorija začeli upoštevati tudi v katoliških oratori-jih. Glede na posebnost in izjemen pomen Kristusovega vstajenja je prevladovala odsotnost dramskega dogajanja in bogatejših glasbenih barv, posledično pa je upadlo tudi zanimanje za glasbeno prikazovanje te teme. To je trajalo skoraj stoletje. Različna glasbena dela, nastala ok. leta 1900 - kot so Druga simfonija "Vstajenje" Gustava Mahlerja in leta 1904 v veristični tradiciji komponirana opera Risurre-zione Franca Alfana, na libreto Cesara Hanaua, prirejenem po romanu Leva N. Tolstoja Voskresenje (Vstajenje) - označujejo odločen obrat, nenazadnje zato, ker so jasno usidrana v posvetnem. Vendar sta se Hanau in Alfano - sledeč Tolstojevemu vračanju k Svetemu pismu - še vedno oprla na krščansko sporočilo, čeprav sta ga spretno prenesla na odnos med Katjušo in Dimitrijem ter uporabila velikonočni "Cristo e risuscitato" kot glasbeni narekovaj, ki označuje njuno notranjo preobrazbo. Prevod naslova, izvlečka in povzetka Aleš Nagode 49 For hints on the repertory see Reischert, Kompendium der musikalischen Sujets .., vol. 1, pp. 174f., 608-610; Klaus Schneider, Lexikon Programmusik, vol. 1, Stoffe und Motive (Kassel et al.: Bärenreiter, 22001), pp. 144-149, 170f. UDK 785.6:784.6"18" DOI: 10.4312/mz.50.2.223-230 Ana Petrov Academy of Arts, University of Banja Luka, BiH Akademija za umetnosti, Univerza v Banja Luki, BiH Listening to Music in 'Holy' Space: The Role of 19th-Century Public Concert in the Construction of Kunstreligion Poslušanje glasbe v »posvečenem« prostoru: Vloga javnega koncerta pri ustvarjanju Kunstreligion v 19. stoletju Prejeto: 26. december 2012 Sprejeto: 27. marec 2013 Ključne besede: koncert, koncertna dvorana, kontemplativno poslušanje, Kunstreligion, estetika glasbe 19. stoletja Izvleček Prispevek se ukvarja z institucijo javnega koncerta v 19. stoletju in njegovo vlogo pri stvaritvi koncepta Kunstreligion. Opazujem ta koncept, prikazujem, kako je nastal, ter opozarjam na vzvode, ki so koncert povzdignili v nadomestilo za cerkveno obredje. Introduction Received: 26th December 2012 Accepted: 27th March 2013 Keywords: concert, concert hall, contemplative listening, Kunstreligion, nineteenth-century music aesthetic Abstract This paper deals with the 19th-century institution of public concert and its role in the construction of the concept of Kunstreligion. I elaborate on the concept showing how it was produced, by pointing out to the mechanisms that made the concert an alternative to the church service. This paper deals with the institution of concert and focuses on the phenomenon of Kunstreligion that was made due to this institution in the first half of the 19th century (when the concert was being significantly altered).1 Having in mind that the concert life 1 The concert world in most European centers (Vienna, London, Paris) underwent an upheaval during the first half of the 19th century because of the drastic expansion of its commercial bases. Along with the social changes of the time, the invention of lithography, the improvements instruments, the building of larger halls and opera houses and the development of marketing and sales techniques led to an outpouring of music designed to attract a much larger public than before. During the second half of the 19th century the concert public expanded greatly within the middle and working classes. The main impetus to increased concert-going was the near-universality of the piano in middle- and upper-class homes, which by this time was spreading to less affluent groups. While the rage for virtuosos closely tied to domestic music-making died down in the 1850s, the continuing growth of musical education stimulated musicians to establish concerts for a much wider public (Weber 2001). also exhibited intense social changes that were happening among social strata which were to have influence on the way the members of a certain stratum spent their free time, I draw on Pierre Bourdieu's concept of distinction in order to construe concert as a form of cultural activity that was in service of creating and confirming the new status of bourgeoisie and its cultural ethos (Bourdieu 1979). Since the concerts were held in different places (concert halls, cafés, restaurants, parks, salons or ballrooms) they offered diverse entertainments. Although considering the differences between the concerts, I will here focus on the ways the concept of Kunstreligion was being created and at which target social group and the life style it was aimed.2 In the case of 19th-century concerts, the distinction was being constructed mostly among the members of a class that included attending (or inability to attend) a certain type of concert into their life style. Thus, concert was 'a kind of museum' for developing and cultivating the public's taste (Gramit 2002, 154). I will here focus on the role of a specific kind of concert that did help creating and propagating certain taste, life style, as well as a specific behavior.3 According to William Weber, institutional concerts ('high status' or 'prestige classical music' concerts) were the channels for giving an official visible confirmation for the new elite (Weber 2004, 61). Those were the concerts organized by established, well organized institutions (such as philharmonic societies) and they were reserved for the public who could afford tickets, usually through subscription for the whole year in advance.4 Since the concerts were mostly closed events, mixing of the classes was not easy or even possible. These concerts have usually been labeled as mechanisms for constructing music ideology that formed the paradigm of serious music, having as the consequence the propagation of 'higher' taste of the audience that was supposed to understand, love and appreciate 'serious', 'classical' or 'art' music (Gramit 2002, Weber 2004).5 Furthermore, it is certain that a specific behavior style was being created in these concerts, thus forming rather unique micro-social situations. Namely, there was a process that regulated behavior and actions during the concerts, now commonly referred to as the 'cultivation project'. 2 Life style is here understood as a system of habits that entails certain behavior patterns and is intertwined with the idea of taste that helps creating a sense of distinction (Cejni 2003, 13). 3 For a detailed analysis of the concert as a social event see: Petrov 2011. 4 The most important new institution established throughout Europe and America in the 19th century was the professional orchestra. Orchestras evolved out of pre-existing music societies or court concert groups, or from new organizations directed by the musicians themselves. Besides the Gewandhaus Orchestra, the most important ensembles developed in national capitals, usually founded and governed by musicians: the Philharmonic Society of London (1813), the Société des Concerts du Conservatoire in Paris (1828), the Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde in Vienna (1842) and the Berlin PO (1882). In the USA, the major orchestras, notably the Philharmonic Symphony Society of New York (1842) and the Boston Symphony Orchestra (1881), were founded and directed chiefly by wealthy patrons (Weber 2001). 5 However, the concert was not the only channel for producing the new ideology. Tia DeNora argues that the initial phase of the emergence of serious music ideology in late 18th- and early 19th-century Vienna happened due to the elite receptivity to the new ideology as it occurred against a backdrop of change in the organizational basis of music sponsorship. Namely, the decline of the private house ensembles (Hauskapellen) resulted in a social broadening of music patronage and thereby tended to erode the traditional institutional means for aristocratic authority in musical affairs. The exclusive function that the qualitatively different ideology of 'serious' music could provide reaffirmed traditional cultural boundaries through ideological rather than institutional means and enabled Vienna's old aristocrats to emerge after 1800 in the context of the salon music performances (DeNora 1991). Cultivation project The ideal of 'high' musical culture was being constructed at the end of the 18th and the beginning of the 19th century. The changes in the social status of musicians, as well as the organizers of musical life are considered to be crucial factors that helped production of the concept of 'serious' music (Gramit 2002, 20). The process of creating the concept of serious music - together with its opposite popular music, music for fun - was intertwined with the complex project of cultivating audience through music. Serious music concert was one of the salient examples of the ways the project was conducted. The project was constituted in the first half of the 19th century, having been based on the enlightenment ideas of cultivation that construed music as an adequate means for educating entire population. It was assumed that music was a good means for building a good communicative and sociable person. In accordance with that, the concert musical culture was understood as something divergent from fun for its own sake, but rather as a way of useful and well organized spent time (Gramit 2002, 17). The concept of 'good' taste was also a part of the project, since it was necessary to educate people to make difference between 'good' and 'bad' music and cultural ('art') entertainment from having fun with no 'higher' purpose. The taste was certainly one of the important social values that were being produced due to the institution of concert.6 The 'serious' music concert was part of the project, being an ideal for well-off members of society. The concert was thus reserved for 'cultivated' classes (Gramit 2002, 18) and as a cite of 'cooperative interaction of all classes' (Gramit 2002, 149), serving as an exemplar of a well organized cultural institution with precisely and strictly defined social relations and rules of behavior, and bringing to the formation of the 'higher' musical culture elitism (Ellis 2002, 356).7 The organization of social relation in the concerts was of crucial importance for constitution of this type of concert as an ideological fundament of high music culture. Due to the concert, different kinds of accepted behavior patterns were formed, thus being a basis for interpersonal relations during the event. I will firstly address the issue of proper way of listening to music that certainly represents one of the most important behavior patterns, and then I will deal with the space that was changed due to the concerts. I will thus show how the concert was an indicator of formation of specific social space as a reality that was constructed through this institution with help of specific cultural patterns. One of the highly relevant means for cultivation project to succeed in concerts was the idea of Kunstreligion, the idea that music should be valued as Godlike entity and the concert space should be thus equivalent to the church. Finally, the gist of the behavior patterns was a request: behave as if you were in the church. 6 The values that were produced could be seen in judgments of the music that was performed, in creation of genre hierarchy in the repertoire, the importance that was given to professional musicians, and in the division of the audience on 'connoisseurs' and 'laypersons' and the division of art on 'high' and 'low'. 7 The serious music concept was incorporated into the cultivation project as an ideal appealing to well off members of bourgeoisie, the concert thus being reserved for those cultivated classes. It is highly important, as shown in a considerable number of studies, to construe concert as a social event, since social relations made in concerts were more, according to music sociologists, more important for this institution than the performative aspect of it, which is supported by the reviews of the concerts that were more often than not dedicated to the social space of the event (it was reported who was present, what was discussed and similar, Gramit 2002, 143). Contemplative Listening What separated the concert institution from its inception (in the 17th century) from other music events was the formation of the act of listening. Concert has always been an institution in which music was in the center of social attention. In all other contexts it was a concomitant activity, so that actual listening as an autonomous activity did not exist. The act of concentrated, focused listening was not a usual scene to be seen in concerts for a long time.8 Moreover, listening was not the most important part of many concerts and it was not changed quickly and drastically. On the contrary, on numerous occasions, music was inferior to other activities, like socializing during dancing evening or popular music concerts in general, or in opera (Johnson 1995). It was not rare that concert performing entailed inferior role of music. Divergent concerts had divergent strategies of listening. However, a salient change in the act of listening did happen exactly at the serious music concerts. The behavior patterns, holding and socializing in a concert hall were being formed during the 19th century and has been valid ever since. By the end of the century, a whole new discourse on specific behavior, posture, acting, listening and communicating was constructed. The idea was promulgated in philosophical and literary discourses, as well as in the press, in reviews where it was in fact confirmed that the actual change in behavior was happening (Morrow 1997). The gist of the Kunstreligion discourse was the premise that one should behave in a concert hall as if being in a church. In other words, it was proclaimed that listening to the music in the serious music concerts was a sort of spiritual experience (Kramer 2005, 95). Philosophical and literary discourse in the 19th century is fulfilled with detailed descriptions of the expected conduct of the listeners - it was expected from a concert goer to be concentrated on the music with the same attention and respect as in church and during the concert it was supposed that similar contemplation is to be happening as during a church ritual. This act of contemplative listening is also known - in the aestheti-cal and musicological discourses - as the concept of aesthetic contemplation. Moreover, this kind of spiritual listening was not reserved solely for sacred music, nor for the church as an institution. On the contrary, it was especially expected and usually seen in public concerts with classic canon repertoire, organized in concert halls. It became common, preferred and, even more, requested that a person should behave in a specific strictly defined way. The recommendations for 'proper' behavior included: holding still, being quiet and respectful, keeping your body almost motionless, contemplating and keeping your mind concentrated on music, reduce talking to the minimum. These concerts were thus reserved for the audience that was considered 'cultivated' enough to act 'religiously' while listening to music (Kramer 2005, 117). The umbrella term that entailed the mentioned behavior was 'spiritual contemplation' which final instance was not connected to the church, and the origin was to be found in the religious discourses and practices at the beginning of the 19th century. Within spiritual 8 Nevertheless, serious listening had existed before the rise of formal concerts, most prominently in churches and in courts. While music is the focal point of a concert, that does not necessarily mean that an audience obeyed an etiquette of complete silence and stillness. Informal social practices continued in some concerts, for example in tavern performances in the 18th century, at 'promenade' concerts in the 1830s and 40s and more recently, and at band concerts during the 20th century. A strict social etiquette became the norm in concert life around the middle of the 19th century, linked closely to the new aesthetic of the time and to certain types of concerts (Weber 2001). contemplation there were two opposite concepts - of activity and passivity, beautiful and sublime, sensory and spiritually, all of the mentioned themes fitting in the broader concepts of Andacht and Anschauung. The former concept was connected to the active aspect of contemplation that can be shortly described as 'active thinking on something', while the latter, contrary to that, referred to intuition and perception (Kramer 2005, 122). Although originally referring to the expectations from the believers in church, those constructions were started to be applied and to be propagated in the 19th century discourses to the listening to music in church, as well as listening to instrumental music. It was claimed and also commented in concert reviews that a listener in a concert should and does indeed listen carefully and pay attention with the same Andacht as in church. Acting in accordance with the postulates of aesthetic contemplation existed during performances in church or in concerts in concert halls. It was not usual or expected behavior for the audience during opera performance, for instance. Thus, listening in concert was presented as an active listening, activity of the whole body, which was the very reason why the body should have been still, motionless, almost paralyzed - it was because of the concentration and focus solely on music itself. On the other hand, music was also being connected with Anschauung concept, especially when sacred music pieces were performed since they were aimed at religious meditation that is spontaneous, intuitive communication with God. Thus, active and passive listening could co-exist, since mental focus and concentration were concomitants of stiff body and fixed gaze did not exclude a possibility for intuitive insight and enjoyment in music. Passivity thus referred to very behavior, way of acting and talking, while activity referred to 'thoughts and fantasies' that were expected to be present in the minds of listeners during listening to music in a concert. This state of mind and this kind of behavior should have resulted in a unique music experience that was supposed to be equivalent to religious meditation, thus getting to the culmination of the act of listening being an insight into beautiful, sublime and spiritual. Moreover, this behavior also meant that a person knows how to behave, that one has proper manners, that he or she is polite, educated, well-rounded, well-mannered, well behaved in general, which were desirable and necessary qualities for incorporation and acceptance in social life (Johnson 1995, 228-236). Having in mind the mentioned, it is also relevant to point to the importance of silence in concert space. Being quiet was desirable, appreciated and necessary quality that was expected from a well mannered concert goer. No less important was also the very space, the concert venue, in which this kind of music performance was taking place. Certain norms related to behavior were easier to get visible in adequate places, specifically designed for the purpose. It was necessary to construct not only the behavior patterns but also the very space in which the patterns were going to be presented as requirement that had to be met, although the space was in fact formed mostly by the very behavior in it. Thus, the concept of art as religion and listening to music as a religious contemplation had impact on the very architectural solutions of the concert spaces. Just as the conduct based on the premise 'act as if you were in a church' was promulgated in contemporary discourses, the very act of listening and the act of being silent gradually became unavoidable requests for spending time while in a concert, and so did the holy space in which the whole performance of this described normative behavior was taking place. MUZIKOLOSKI ZBORNIK • MUSICOLOGICAL ANNUAL L/2 Holy place: concert hall Concert hall was a place of gathering of concert goers, music lovers (Liebhaber), enabling them, as Antje Pieper puts it, 'a visual confirmation of the new status of the middle-class and its cultural ethos' (Pieper 2008, 59).9 Forming strictly defined rules of behavior was easier due to the fact that a specific place for such a behavior was being made. The image of the place was also strictly defined and was in accordance with behavior pattern, thus helping them to get firmer and more visible. The hall made the cultural conventions public, while group activities practiced there were meant to give the hall its own recognition in the public, since these activities were a platform for building a group cultural identity (Pieper 2008, 97). Furthermore, especially relevant is the process of sacralization of the space in which the concerts were organized, which, joined with the cult of contemplative listening and the ideal of silence, brought to the fundamental transformations of the concert as a social bourgeois institution. Namely, unlike aristocracy to which culture was a way of having fun and being amused, to middle class culture was supposed to be spiritual upbringing. In accord with that ideal, the space dedicated solely to public concerts performances was being built - it was expected from those concert places to highlight the role of music as a spiritual experience and a means for individual development (Pieper 2008, 101). Sacralization of the concert started around 1800, being manifested in the attitude both of the audience and the critique that concert was similar to divine service (Gottesdienst) in church (Kramer 2005, 134, Weber 2001). Namely, concert was construed as an opportunity in which both time and space art would unite in order to create an entity similar to ancient Greek drama for which it was believed that it was the perfect unity of all arts.10 One of the most obvious indicators of this 19th century tendency was the design of the concert halls having in mind that they were modeled after churches and temples. Since concerts were becoming increasingly more popular starting from the beginning of the 19th century, there was a need for new concert spaces. Religious style thus became rather popular and expected at the time, especially after new concert halls were built, for instance, in Berlin and Munich. Religious motives are here also noticeable both in architectural neo-classical solutions (thus leading concert hall to an image similar to ancient temples, often having basilica like solutions, for instance) and in interior design (which 9 During the early 18th century concerts were performed in spaces designed to accommodate a variety of activities, chiefly meetings and balls, and normally holding no more than 300 people. In the middle of the century, halls designed specifically for concerts began to be built, such as The Holywell Music Room in Oxford, the Hanover Square Rooms in London, built in 1775, Concertsaal des Junghofes built in Frankfurt in 1756. In Berlin, the Concertsaal of the masonic lodge 'Royal York', built in 1803, held 1000 people, and the hall of the Sing-Akademie, put up in 1826, could accommodate 1200. From the 1830s many concert halls were built and managed by piano manufacturers and music publishers, essentially for virtuoso and benefit concerts. The concert halls established after the middle of the 19th century displayed the lofty role that concerts had come to hold in European cultural life (Musikvereinsaal of the Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde in Vienna, Royal Albert Hall in London (1871), the Zürich Tonhalle (1891) and the Jahrhunderthalle in Breslau (1900)). The capacity of over 6000 at the Royal Albert Hall set a new scale in concert spaces. The classical 18th- and 19th-century repertory now stood as the core of musical taste, it demanding quiet and attentive listening (Weber 2001). 10 Tendencies to recreate antique Greek tragedy were not reserved solely for concert performances. Sacralization of the music life was even more obvious in opera in the second half of the 19th century, one of the most explicit examples being Richard Wagner's project of Bayreuth Festival (Jeremic-Molnar 2007, 273 341). Also, there were similar tendencies in other arts. For instance, the institution of museum was just the same as the concert proclaimed to be the temple of arts that included strictly defined patterns of ritual behaviour (Duncan 1998, 473 497). was evident in representations of Greek and Roman gods on the concert halls' walls, though themes from pagan and Christian spirituality shaped decorations Kramer 2005, 146-147). Moreover, religious connotations were present in the official discourse of the critique. Commenting openings of the new buildings, their importance was regularly pointed out by critics' proclamation of those spaces as the temples of music. Pointing to personal sacrifices that were needed to be done by the listeners was also something regularly mentioned, especially regarding understanding certain works of art, such were Ludwig van Beethoven's symphonies (DeNora 1995). Further intensification of the applying of sacred ideals on the concert music was done due to the fact that church music was also performed in concerts (Kramer 2005, 159-161). Conclusion I presented in this paper some of the most salient components of the public concert that developed in 19th century as an institution closely related to the idea of Kunstreligion developing in music aesthetics of the time. Rather that giving summary remarks, I will here briefly point to other relevant factors regarding the issue of music and religion, and, specifically, the role of concert in promoting certain aesthetical concepts about music as religion. Related to the reconstruction of the role of the concert in a certain life style is the issue of values propagated by certain concerts and the discourses on them. Mapping the phenomenon of concert life in the broader social context brings to the questions of the role of it in music culture. Thus, related phenomena are: the valuing of the music performed at a specific concert, making a hierarchy of genres, a hierarchy of performers (professionals/amateurs) and listeners (true Liebhaber/lay persons), and, finally, the influence of those standards on the concert life in the time to come, since the issue how intertwined religious atmosphere and cultivation project was in the period after 19th century has not yet been fully elaborated. It is relevant to have in mind how many 19th-century aesthetical concepts related to music and religion has been present ever since, being visible in the behavior patterns worldwide in the very same 'serious' music concerts. In other words, even today, we listen to 'serious' music in a concert hall as if we were in a church and it is just a continuation of the same concept of Kunstreligion that developed during the 19th century. Bibliography Bourdieu, Pierre. 1979. La distinction: Critique sociale du jugement. Paris: Les Editions de Minuit. Cejni, Dejvid. 2003. Zivotni stilovi. Beograd: Clio. DeNora, Tia. 1991. "Musical Patronage and Social Change in Beethoven's Vienna". The American Journal of Sociology 97 (2): 310-346. DeNora, Tia. 1995. Beethoven and the Construction of Genius. Musical Politics in Vienna, 1792-1803. Berkeley, Los Angeles and London: University of California Press. Duncan, Carol. 1998. "The Art Museum as Ritual", in The Art of Art History. A Critical Anthology, edited by Donald Prezioni, 473-485. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Ellis, Katharine. 2002. "The Structures of Musical Life", in The Cambridge History of Nineteeth-Century Music, edited by Jim Samson, 343-370. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Gramit, David. 2002. Cultivating Music. The Aspirations, Interests and Limits of German Musical Culture, 1770-1848, Berkeley, Los Angeles and London: University of Calfornia Press. Jeremic-Molnar, Dragana. 2007. Rihard Vagner: konstruktor "istinske" realnosti. Beograd: Fabrika knjiga. Johnson, James H. 1995. Listening in Paris. A Cultural History, Berkeley, Los Angeles i London: University of California Press. Kramer, Elisabeth A. 2005. The Idea of Kunstreligion in German Musical Aesthetics of The Early Nineteenth Century. University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill: dissertation for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy in the Department of Music. Morrow, Mary Sue. 1997. German Music Criticism in the Late Eighteenth Century, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Petrov, Ana. 2011. "Koncert kao gradanska institucija". Sociologija 53 (2): 177-194. Pieper, Antje. 2008. Music and the Making of Middle-Class Culture. A Comparative History of Nineteenth-Century Leipzig and Birmingham, New York: Palgrave Macmillan. Weber, William. 2001. "Concert", in Grove Music Online edited by L. Macy. (accessed on 20. 12. 2007), Weber, William. 2004. Music and The Middle Class. The Social Structure of Concert Life in London, Paris and Vienna between 1830 and 1848. London: Ashgate. POVZETEK Institucija javnega koncerta se je v prvi polovici 19. st. močno spremenila zaradi političnih, ekonomskih in demografskih sprememb. V najpomembnejših kulturnih središčih (London, Pariz in Dunaj) sta se močno povečala število in raznolikost koncertov. Koncertno življenje je odražalo tudi globoke družbene spremembe, ki so zajele vse plasti prebivalstva in so vplivale na način, kako so njihovi predstavniki izkoriščali svoj prosti čas. Z uporabo koncepta odlikovanja, ki ga je utemeljil Pierre Bourdieu, analiziram javni koncert kot obliko kulturnega delovanja, namenjeno ustvarjanju in utrjevanju novega statusa meščanstva in njengovega kulturnega etosa. Ker so se koncerti odvijali na različnih prizoriščih (koncertne dvorane, kavarne, restavracije, parki, saloni ali plesne dvorane), so ponujali različne oblike razvedrila. Upoštevam tudi razlike med koncerti in razpravljam na eni strani o razmerjih med njimi, na drugi pa o konceptu "umetnosti" in "razvedrila", pri čemer se osredotočam na poti, pa katerih je bil uresničen koncept Kunstreligion. Javni koncert je pomagal vzpostaviti razlikovanje med "visokim" in "nizkim" razvedrilom ter s tem tudi ločnico med "intelektualnim" in "neukim" občinstvom. Ločnica je nastala v diskurzu o glasbi in v mikrosocialnih položajih na koncertih, v družbeni stvarnosti pa je postala vidna glede na to, kakšne vrste koncerta se je poslušalec udeležil, kako se je na koncertu obnašal in kako je poslušal glasbo. Koncept Kunstreligion je bil povezan s koncerti v koncertnih dvoranah (te so bile pogosto zasnovane tako, da so bile podobne svetiščem), namenjenimi izobraženemu občinstvu. Ti niso bili razumljeni kot razvedrilo, temveč prej kot (umetniško, glasbeno) nadomestilo za cerkveno obredje (Gottesdienst), ter so tako znova vzpostavljali razlikovanje med "duhovno" in "profano" glasbo. Skladne z "estetsko kontemplacijo", ki so jo razširjali filozofski diskurzi in tisk 19. stoletja, so bile zahteve po tem, da se obiskovalci obnašajo, "kot bi bili v cerkvi". Priporočila za "primerno" vedenje so obsegala: bodi pri miru, bodi tiho in spoštljiv, ne premikaj se, osredotoči se na opazovanje in premišljanje o glasbi. Tako so bili koncerti pridržani občinstvi, ki je bilo dovolj "kultivirano", da je "pobožno" poslušalo glasbo. Prevod naslova, izvlečka in povzetka Aleš Nagode. UDK 782.01 DOI: 10.4312/mz.50.2.231-237 Sanna Iitti Samostojna raziskovalka, Helsinki Independent Research Professor, Helsinki The Dionysian signs in Richard Wagner's Tannhäuser Dionizična znamenja v operi Tannhäuser Richarda Wagnerja Prejeto: 31. december 2012 Sprejeto: 27. marca 2013 Ključne besede: Richard Wagner, Tannhäuser, dionizična znamenja, glasbena semiotika, libido IzvLEČEK Prispevek obravnava dionizične znake v operi Tannhäuser und der Sängerkrieg auf Wartburg Richarda Wagnerja, pri čemer se osredotoča na Venerino arietto "Geliebter! Komm". Metodološko želi predstaviti semiotsko analizo glasbenih toposov. Njegova teza je, da pastoralni slog ariette vzpostavlja lirično dionizično znamenje. 1. Introduction Received: 31st December 2012 Accepted: 27th March 2013 Keywords: Richard Wagner, Tannhäuser, Dionysian signs, musical semiotics, libido Abstract The article discusses Dionysian signs in Richard Wagner's opera Tannhäuser und der Sängerkrieg auf Wartburg, focusing on Venus's arietta "Geliebter! Komm". The method exemplifies musical topics' semiotic analysis. It is proposed that the arietta's pastoral style constitutes a lyric Dionysian sign. Richard Wagner's opera Tannhäuser und der Sängerkrieg auf Wartburg1 reveals one aspect of the composer's romantic fantasy about the Dionysus cult. Bacchus's worship fuses with that of Venus in the opera. I shall examine signs therein that one can deem as Dionysian, focusing on lyrical points. The sign conception that I involve could be characterized as an outgrowth of that which Leonard G. Ratner developed and the analysis of musical topics (topoi) is central to it.2 Wagner's autobiography reveals that antique art and religion had inspired him already in his youth. Accordingly, it is perhaps not surprising that Tannhäuser puts forth 1 Tannhäuser's first version was premiered in Dresden on October 19, 1845. The focus of this article is the opera's Paris version, however, that received its premiere on March 13, 1861. 2 Ratnefs notion of musical signs comprises a distinction between musical types and styles (see Ratner 1985, pp. 9-30). ideas about old Roman religion. These have not been thoroughly explained, however. Ernest Newman discusses the techniques, by which Wagner created a Bacchanal for Tannhäuser's first Act, and his analysis provides the outset of my scrutiny of the Dio-nysian signs. In his account of this scene, Newman distinguishes altogether seven motives that first occur in the Ouverture and then outline the Venus Mountain's seductions and the Dionysian dancing there (Newman 1991 [1949], 68-69). The Bacchanal is a pantomime scene that was choreographed by Marius Petipa, as Tannhäuser was first performed in Paris. Despite the wishes of the Paris Opera, this scene was never developed into a proper ballet. Wagner expanded Venus's part, however, that is more fully developed in the opera's Paris version than in the earlier one. Classical literature influenced Wagner a great deal and the poetry of authors such as Ovid and Theocritus had fascinated him since his student days. His fantasies about pagan religion in Tannhäuser arose from his relentless study of the Classical Times. Besides, topics related to antiquity had often been explored in French-styled operas that had inspired him. Wagner's intimate knowledge of Gasparo Spontini's La Vestale that he had directed at the Dresden Court Opera, as he was completing Tannhäuser's first version, seems in particular to have encouraged his imaginings for the stage.3 The motives that one may entitle as the "Venus Mountain" or the Bacchic motives are characteristically short and apposite.4 The Bacchanal scene revolves around the dynamic development of these motives and this section presents brisk characters. Wagner outlined the motion involved in the parentheses, calling forth satyrs', fauns' as well as bacchants' wild, ecstatic revealing. But some of the Dionysian signs in Tannhäuser are more lyrical by nature and encode aspects about the pastorale tradition. I shall shed light on such signs besides their relation to musical gestures. I regard musical gestures as a means for creating referential meanings in music, song and opera in particular. Vocal music represents gender, sex and also different aspects of sexuality thereby. In analysing those gestures, my stance is based on style analysis. I propose two categories for musical gestures by distinguishing socially performative and libidinal gestures.5 In operatic works, gestures related to the libido - that is, libidinal gestures - often suggest its positive manifestations but quite as often convey something about desire's suppression. In Tannhäuser, the libido's denial is very much at stake. Accordingly, I shall present examples of vocal gestures that express desire's rejection aside with discussing the Dionysian signs of lyrical kind. 3 I have proposed elsewhere that Spontini's choices for the props of Venus's temple in Dresden had encouraged the conception of the Venus Mountain's subterranean grotto that Wagner had developed. See my abstract submitted to the congress "The Staging of Verdi & Wagner Operas" (Pistoia, Italy, September 13-15, 2013), organized by Roberto Illiano, Centro Studi Opera Omnia Luigi Boccherini, Lucca. 4 According to Newman, seven motives altogether outline the Venus Mountain (see Newman 1991 [1949], pp. 68-69). Yet due to its straightforward and victorious character, the sixth one - motive No. 8 in Newman's presentation - ought to be associated with the opera's hero, Tannhäuser, only. Unlike the other Venus Mountain motives, the sixth one develops into a lengthy and broadly arching melody. It is appealing with a triumphant character. Tannhäuser's song "Dir töne Lob!" in Act I, Scene 2 in praise of Venus opens by this motive. 5 See Iitti, 2006. 2. The Exotic Venus Wagner imagined the Venus Mountain as an idyllic rural landscape, which he described in the score in detail for instance by mentioning particular colours. Conventional pastorale topics - styles and figuration - lie behind the treatment in the arietta "Geliebter! Komm", which Venus presents in the first Act (Act I, Scene 2, Andante) following Tannhauser's claim of freedom from her service. This arietta is based on the seventh of the Venus Mountain motives that Newman distinguishes (see Example 1). Example 1: Leitmotif "Geliebter!Komm" Cited in Richard Wagner, Tannhäuser, edited by Felix Mottl, Edition Peters Nr. 8217 (Frankfurt, London, New York: C. F Peters, 1974), p. 48. The key is F major, the traditional key of pastorale compositions, and "Geliebter! Komm" also puts forth traits common in 17th- and 18th-century pastorale scenes, such as an opening by the tonic chord's prolongation as well as a translucent and ornamental accompaniment texture based on broken chords. These progress slowly as performed by the strings and the high woodwinds besides the horn. Venus does her best in trying to seduce Tannhäuser. She describes the grotto's idyllic surroundings that invite one to love and erotic enjoyment. As she refers to the Venus Mountain's gods and their residence, the grotto, by the lines "Komm, sieh' dort die Grotte" and "[Entzücken] böt' selbst einem Gotte..." her broadly-arching phrases are coloured by an exotic flavour induced by the passing use of the whole-and-half-tone scale: with the exception of c, the dominant of F major, the melody moves along an octatonic scale at these two points (see Wagner 1961, pp. 860-863). This provides a tense timbre for the filling of the third a-flat - c-flat by a quick stepwise progression. Besides, the melody is full of tension right at the arietta's opening, something due to the use of a diminished fifth as the descending leap that completes the initial leap c - f upwards. Venus is portrayed as a deviant being by these details that also suggest her increasing anxiety or even hidden anger. The fact that her existence is based on the libido - on love and erotic yearning - is generally paralleled by melodic writing that is rich with chromatically descending motives plus unstable, quickly shifting tonal relations. This becomes apparent following Tannhäuser's bid "Göttin, laß mich zieh'n" - Goddess, set me free - in the Sehr bewegt section in Act I, Scene 2 and thereafter. Tannhäuser's parts are throughout the opera characterized by bright, diatonic melodies and simple harmonic structures. But the harmonic and melodic progressions that Wagner composed for Venus render her as a being genuinely different from Tannhäuser and the other characters, who are all rooted to the Christian community. To summarize: the pastorale style that this arietta presents constitutes one Diony-sian sign, which is lyric. The basing of the melody's core on the unusual octatonic scale, often associated with Oriental issues in 19th-century music, bestows the subtle pastorale character an exotic timbre. This choice aptly stresses Venus's strangeness for the Christians. 3. The Revengeful Goddess Venus aspires to keep Tannhäuser as her worshipper by every possible mean. Her subtle persuasions are paralleled by her caressing gestures. She grants him the freedom to leave, but as it becomes clear that their disagreement cannot be settled, her anger bursts out in a demonic manner. Venus thus intimidates Tannhäuser upon his departure from the Venus Mountain by claiming that he will only encounter coldness, as he returns to the world of human beings. She believes that he will come back to the Venus Mountain, longing for his past bliss and begging for a reentry to her realm. Her lines, which start by the words "Oh! Could you but find her who once smiled to you!" ("O! fändest du sie wieder, die einst dir gelächelt!") in Act I, Scene 2, build on vocal gestures (see Example 2). The progression, which starts at this point, is characterized by the subtle fluctuation of tempi. The two phrases that Example 2 presents stand out as vocal gestures. The melodic leap from f downwards onto the a-flat at the outset of the second phrase, which is a restatement of the first one, together with the piano pianissimo by which the phrase opens create a capricious and sudden accent. This is due to the fact that both the leap downwards and the quick switch to the soft tone volume follow a crescendo that ends the first phrase. A similarly capricious effect occurs at the end of the second phrase as the violins switch from pp to ff upon starting the thirty-two-note quintuplet that finishes the phrase. The style germinating in this passage points to the later Schönbergian speech song (Sprechgesang), putting forth traits akin to those that prevail in many expression-istic vocal compositions that were created at the outset of the 20th century. The first Venus on the stage, Wilhelmine Schröder-Devrient, apparently inspired much of Tannhäuser at its earliest stages, as Laurence Dreyfus has suggested (Dreyfus 2010, 77). One indeed senses repercussions of her melodramatic vocal performance style in Tannhäuser, something that Wagner also described in his autobiography.6 6 See Richard Wagner, Mein Leben. Erste authentische Veröffentlichung (München: Paul List Verlag, 1963), p. 46 and Mein Leben. Vollständige Ausgabe, ed. Eike Middell, vol. I, Sammlung Dieterich Bands 119 (Leipzig: Dieterich'sche Verlagsbuchhandlung, 1986), pp. 328-329. Example 2: The "demonic" Venus: Act I, Scene 2 (un poco ritenuto) Cited in Richard Wagner, Tannhäuser und der Sängerkrieg auf Wartburg, ed. Max Hochkofler (Switzerland: Edition Eulenburg, 1961), pp. 912-913. Venus's increasing anxiety motivates those particularly expressive phrases. These vocal gestures are in much based on the composer's working on descending motives, which are permeated by dense chromaticism. Tannhäuser rejects her love that no longer has a meaning for him. This means that the libido will be denied. As the libido is the ground of Venus's existence, she is enraged. But Venus's pride overcomes her possessive affection: she will not deprive Tannhäuser of his freedom, although his desire to leave invokes a truly revengeful mood in her. She thus curses the whole mankind in a raging manner, retorting her offence. Her part at that point is characterized by plain melodic figuration. The forceful restatement of particular pitches, such as d-flat and e, is central to it. Although there is no direct quotation, her fierce manner owes much to that of Queen of the Night in W. A. Mozart's Magic Flute. Both the cursing Venus and the dagger-bearing Queen are featured so as to resemble the bacchantes-turned-into-furies of antique tragedies. The curse is slightly more concise in the Paris version as compared with the Dresden one. It addresses the curse to the humankind ("Menschengeschlecht"), whereas the Paris version to the entire world. As Venus declares, "...If you do not return to me, / then let the whole world lie under a curse / and for ever be a desert / from which the goddess fled!"7 But the curse is essentially the same in the opera's both versions: Venus suggests in each that if Tannhäuser will not return to her, she will leave the world and turn it void. Venus reveals her ability to destruct by this turn. The rejection of her love triggers negative emotions in her, revealing something about the dark side of her libido. The curse that she presents stands out as a forceful Dionysian sign. It could be understood as an allusion to the voices of Classical tragedies' heroines. 4. On the Vocalizing of the Libido's Rejection Next to nuanced tones of voice achieved by a careful, detailed notation, libidinal gestures in Tannhäuser present major dynamic shifts that take place rapidly. Those proceedings reveal that Wagner composed an intensive emotional loading into these moments. Libidinal gestures in vocal music are averagely exposed by the textual content besides the performance practice indications. Generally, musical gestures stand out as emphasized or particularly expressive points. Certain gestures in Tannhäuser tell about libidinal issues only, whereas some like Venus's curse allude to these and also the Dionysian heritage at the same time, comprising complex signs. Bibliography Cervone, Roswita. Ed.. Booklet. Tannhäuser und der Sängerkrieg auf Wartburg. Translated by Lionel Salter. Philharmonia Orchestra, Chorus of the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, Dir. Giuseppe Sinopoli. Hamburg: Deutsche Gramophon, 1989. CD 427 625-2 GH3. Dreyfus, Laurence. Wagner and the Erotic Impulse. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2010. Iitti, Sanna. The Feminine in German Song. Germany: Peter Lang Publishing, 2006. Newman, Ernest. The Wagner Operas. USA: Princeton University Press, 1991 [1949]. Ratner, Leonard G.. Classic Music. Expression, Form, and Style. USA: Schirmer Books, 1985. Wagner, Richard. Mein Leben. Erste authentische Veröffentlichung. München: Paul List Verlag, 1963. —, Mein Leben. Vollständige Ausgabe, ed. Eike Middell, Vols. I, II. Sammlung Dieterich Bands 119-120. Leipzig: Dieterich'sche Verlagsbuchhandlung, 1986. —, Tannhäuser und der Sängerkrieg auf Wartburg, ed. with a foreword by Max Hochkofler. French translation by Charles Nuittier, Edition Eulenburg, No. 903, Eulenburg Miniature Scores. Switzerland: Ernst Eulenburg Ltd., 1961. —, Tannhäuser. Oper in drei Aufzügen. Dresdener und Pariser Fassung in Szenenfolge. Klavierauszug von Felix Mottl, Edition Peters, Nr. 8217. Frankfurt, London, New York: C. F. Peters, 1974. 7 In German: "Kehrst du mir nicht zurück, / so treffe Fluch die ganze Welt! / und für ewig sei öde sie, / aus der die Göttin wich!" English translation by Lionel Salter cited in Cervone, ed., 1989, pp. 86-87. POVZETEK Prispevek opazuje vpliv klasične umetnosti in religije na značilnosti opere Tannhäuser und der Sängerkrieg auf Wartburg Richarda Wagnerja, pri čemer se osredotoča na pariško verzijo (1861). Avtorica opazuje predvsem prizor z bakanalom v prvem dejanju in analizira dionizična znamenja, zlasti v Venerini arietti "Geliebter! Komm". Analize se loteva z metodami, ki spominjajo na semiotično analizo glasbe. Z njimi odkriva predvsem glasbene topose in sloge. Ob tem ugotavlja, da je na podrobnosti zasnove Venerine votline, kakor je predstavljena v partituri opere Tannhäuser, vplivalo Wagnerjevo sodelovanje s starejšim kolegom Gasparom Spontinijem pri izvedbi njegove opere La Vestale leta 1845 v Dresdnu. Venerina arietta "Geliebter! Komm" je navdihnjena s tradicionalnimi opernimi prizori. Venerino eksotičnost slika z uporabo oktatonske lestvice, ki je bistveno drugačna od glasbe krščanskih Minnesangerjev. Avtorica zastopa mnenje, da pastoralni slog ariette predstavlja v operi dionizični znak lirične vrste. Ob tem so za nastope Venere - ob padajočih kromatičnih postopih - značilne tudi nestabilne, hitro spreminjajoče se harmon-ske zveze. Na nekaterih mestih se razvijejo celo v melodram. Zdi se, da ta sredstva razkrivajo pravo naravo njenega bistva, ki je prežeto z erotičnim koprnenjem in libidom. Še več, avtorica ugotavlja, da je trenutek, ko Venera pred njegovim odhodom izreče kletev nad Tanhauserjem, drugo dionizično znamenje. Spominja na ženske like v antičnih tragedijah, ki se iz bakhantinj prelevijo v furije. Avtorica se posveča tudi nekaterim drugim odlomkom, v katerih se Venera poskuša soočiti s Tannhauser-jevo zavrnitvijo. Večinoma izstopajo kot vokalne geste. Avtorica predstavlja svojo metodo dela na vzorčnih analizah teh odlomkov. Prevod naslova, izvlečka in povzetka Aleš Nagode UDK 783.1(437.3) "18/19" DOI: 10.4312/mz.50.2.239-249 Marc Brooks University of Vienna, Austria Univerza na Dunaju, Avstrija The Word is not Enough: Symbol, Myth, and Ritual in Hofmannsthal's Libretto for Arabella Beseda ni dovolj: Simbol, mit in obrednost v Hofmannsthalovem libretu Arabella Prejeto: 1. januar 2013 Sprejeto: 27. marec 2013 Ključne besede: Richard Strauss, Hugo von Hofmannsthal, Arabella, Kunstreligion, obrednost Izvleček Michael Steinberg trdi, da so opere Straussa in Hofmannsthala uspešne zato, ker je apolinič-nost Hofmannsthalovih libretov uravnotežena z dinamičnostjo ali dionizičnostjo Straussove glasbe. Članek preizkuša to tezo z opazovanjem Hofmansthalovih metafizičnih spisov in njegove korespondence s Straussom. Received: 1st January 2013 Accepted: 27th March 2013 Keywords: Richard Strauss, Hugo von Hofmannsthal, Arabella, art-religion, ritual Abstract Michael Steinberg claims that the Strauss-Hofmann-sthal operas are successful because Hofmannsthal's fixed, or 'Apollonian' libretto is counteracted by Strauss's dynamic, or 'Dionysian' music. This paper challenges this view by looking One common explanation for Hofmannsthal's desire to become a librettist is that he felt that words on their own were inadequate for aesthetic expression and he hoped that music would supply the transcendent sheen necessary for art-religious experience. His early symbolist poetry gestured towards the metaphysical, a literary version of the Wagnerian music that was supposed to bring the listener into contact with the Schopenhauerian Wille. The 'Letter of Lord Chandos' ('Ein Brief', 1902) was Hofmannsthal's admission of the impossibility - or even the undesirability - of this 'Dionysian' goal.1 However, in his 1927 address 'Literature as the Spiritual Space of the 1 The research for this paper was carried out with funding from the AHRC. I would like to thank Mark Berry, John Deathridge, Michael Fend, Roger Parker, and Nicholas Till for their helpful comments on earlier versions of the text, as well as Stephen Groves and Arabella Cizmas for looking over the final proofs. Any remaining errors are entirely the fault of the author. Wagner's idea of a Dionysian music is explored at length in Nietzsche's Die Geburt der Tragödie aus dem Geiste der Musik (1872). Nation' ('Das Schrifttum als geistiger Raum der Nation', delivered 10 January 1927 at the University of Munich, published July 1927), written just before beginning work on Arabella (1933), his mature reflection was that 'literature [Schrifttum]' could indeed perform a spiritual function after all: not the Dionysian function of Wagnerian opera and his earlier symbolist poetry, in which unity is achieved by breaking down the division between individual souls, but instead achieving unity in the outer communal world through a shared language.2 Hofmannsthal here uses 'literature' not to mean just the pile of books that even the educated elite haven't yet found the time to absorb completely, but rather a 'spiritual activity' - constituted of all linguistic utterance - that lies beside, outside, beneath, and above professional literature which could serve as the 'spiritual room' in which the German-speaking nation would be formed. Language is not inadequate for the spiritual dimension of existence; language is all there is. The function of the artist is to become a Nietzschean 'seeker' - a term borrowed from the Untimely Meditations (Unzeitgemasse Betrachtungen, 1876) - who is able internalize all the contradictions of the culture in order to present a unified outer reality that can serve as the mythological basis for the nation. Michael Steinberg has argued that there is nothing Nietzschean about Hofmannsthal's attempt to imagine a fixed, eternal mythology for the Germans because Nietzsche had a more 'Dionysian' view of culture as 'historical and dynamic'.3 For Steinberg, the Hofmannsthal-Strauss collaborations (particularly Arabella) are successful because Strauss's avowedly Nietzschean music - basing 'his compositional style on the principle of Dionysian movement' - cuts across Hofmannsthal's attempts to present a static ideology. This itself is debateable, but the purpose of this paper is to challenge the specific idea that Hofmannsthal's libretto is Apollonian in opposition to Strauss's Dionysian music - i.e. that the opera functions in essentially the same way as its Wagnerian precedents. In Wagner's metaphysical conception, music is aligned with a higher reality and is thus able to communicate the deeper universal truth that lies behind the words. Music allows a glimpse of the infinite when the listener compares the unlimited multiplicity of possible myths contained in the musical Ur-myth with the specificity of the single myth enacted on the stage and in the words. In opposition to this 'inner Dionysian' aesthetic, in which aesthetic unity is experienced internally by the individual as the music subsumes them in the Wille, I argue that Hofmannsthal was aiming for an 'outer Dionysian' aesthetic in Arabella, in which unity is transferred into the external experience of the shared linguistic space. This is done through allegorical symbolism, the invention of mythical worlds that obscure contradictions, and the enactment of both of these through time in ritual. Word After his precocious success as a teenage poet, Hofmannsthal reached a crisis point early in his career when he realized that language had become so colonized by scien- 2 Hugo von Hofmannsthal, Gesammelte Werke in Einzelausgaben, ed. Herbert Steiner, vol. 14: Prosa IV (Frankfurt am Main: S. Fischer Verlag, 1955). 3 Hofmannsthal borrowed this interpretation from Ernst Bertram's Nietzsche: Versuch einer Mythologie (1918): Michael P. Steinberg, The Meaning of the Salzburg Festival (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1990), 161. tific thought and means-end rationality that even the temporary, artificial respite afforded by symbolist poetry was no longer possible. This 'Sprachkrise', already evident in Hofmannsthal's early poetry and lyric dramas, found its clearest expression in the much discussed 'Letter of Lord Chandos' ('Ein Brief', 1902). The fictional letter concerns the ontological status of language, and asks to what extent it is able to express or represent certain real human experiences like the sense of Self or the feeling of belonging to a Higher Order. Neither the letter's date, 1603, nor its addressee, Francis Bacon, are coincidental. The date is right in the middle of the Scientific Revolution.4 And Bacon is often credited with the invention of the 'scientific method' - what he called the 'novum organum' - in which knowledge is determined through inductive reasoning based on empirical observation.5 By addressing the letter to Bacon, then, Hofmannsthal was indicating that the root of the language crisis was the separation of scientific and symbolic thought bequeathed by him and his contemporaries. The fictional author of 'Ein Brief' is tormented by the absurdity that, although he feels the integrity of his inner self deeply, he knows that any attempt to express it in words is doomed. Hofmannsthal's way of escaping this condition was to invent a pared-down metaphysic that incorporated positivist thinking - even the prohibition on metaphysics - in order to turn it into a virtue. The soul is no longer the Cartesian 'ghost in the machine', to borrow Gilbert Ryle's phrase, but consists of the separation between that part of us that observes and the part we observe: 'the soul is inexhaustible because it is at once both observer and object'.6 The attempt to achieve Dionysian unity, to transcend the infinite and finite parts of our nature, would only bring chaos in which nothing is distinguishable.7 Instead, although plurality is the cause of all suffering (Schopenhauer's principium individuations), we should not see it as something to be transcended, but the source of the ' "magic" in our nature'.8 'Self-transcendence' is achieved, paradoxically, by accepting that it is our essential non-transcendence that makes us who we are: we overcome ourselves by learning that we do not need to overcome our divided selves.9 The consequence of this distinctly Nietzschean embrace of reality and suffering is that striving for the infinite in art becomes a betrayal of the equally important finite part of our being. But on the other hand, attempting a synthesis between finite and infinite would look like a misguided attempt to overcome our defining plurality. So the only choice left to the artist is an unconditional affirmation of reality. Hofmannsthal's letters to Strauss about Arabella demonstrate what this abstract philosophizing meant in practice. Hofmannsthal tried to create a believable Spielwelt in 4 I date the Scientific Revolution - a contentious term in current historiography - between the publication dates of Copernicus's De revolutionibus orbium coelestium (1543) and Newton's Philosophic Naturalis Principia Mathematica (1687) respectively. 5 'Men have sought to make a world from their own conception and to draw from their own minds all the material which they employed, but if, instead of doing so, they had consulted experience and observation, they would have the facts and not opinions to reason about, and might have ultimately arrived at the knowledge of the laws which govern the material world'. Francis Bacon, The New Organum, ed. Lisa Jardine & Michael Silverthorne (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000). 6 Hugo von Hofmannsthal, Gesammelte Werke in Einzelausgaben, ed. Herbert Steiner, vol. 11: Prosa I, (Frankfurt am Main: S. Fischer Verlag, 1956), 8. 7 Benjamin Bennett, Hugo Hofmannsthal: The Theatres of Consciousness (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1988), 12-3. His argument is based on a close reading of Hofmannsthal's early notes. 8 Ibid., 11. 9 Ibid., 15-6. which a workable 'configuration [Gestalt]' of characters is assembled. 10 The archetypal model he had in mind for Arabella was Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg (1868) to which Der Rosenkavalier (1911) owed so much. He believed that the Nuremberg of the 1830s that Wagner had contact with 'offered not merely a mirror, but actually an example of the whole intellectual and spiritual life of the German middle class around 1500'.11 The implication is that, having been born in 1874, he was close to having had direct experience of the world he is trying to recreate in Arabella. The horror with which he reacted to Strauss's suggestion for a 'colossal Croatian ballet' in the second act shows his commitment to verisimilitude. '[It] is exactly the decisive point that everything must be authentic, the authentic Vienna of 1860s, just as Der Rosenkavalier owes some part of its success to the fact that it remains true to the authentic Vienna of 1740 throughout'.12 It is not discussed in the correspondence, but this attitude extended to set and costume design, which he ensured were faithful to the period in question.13 There seems, then, to have been a complete rejection of the lyricism of the earlier poetry: everything is geared towards a mimetic, albeit highly stylized, recreation of a real world. Nevertheless, the opera is very far from being realistic. This not just because of the apparently trivial point that sung theatre cannot be perceived as real. The lyric-affective mode which depicts the characters' internal emotional states is no less realistic than other forms of theatrical or cinematic realism. Hofmannsthal was keen that the music be as understated as possible, with the singers leading and the orchestra in a subordinate role. Strauss obliged and further contributed to the sense of realism by having the vocal line follow the natural speech patterns of the language. 14 The problem with the term 'realism' comes from Hofmannsthal's use of dialogue and staging to externalize the consequences of the metaphysical system outlined above. One way he does this is encapsulated by his well-known dictum: 'Depth must be hidden. Where? On the surface'.15 This is followed in Arabella by keeping the atmosphere so light that what are actually deep philosophical points sparkle in the conversations as mere witticisms. Another is summed up in another aphorism, which seems to contradict the encomia to authenticity in the letters: 'Naturalism distorts Nature because by copying the surface it has to neglect the wealth of inner relatedness - Nature's real mysterium'.16 This inner relatedness is conveyed through symbol, myth and the rituals that reinforce them. Everything in the libretto has symbolic meaning - the characters, their actions, their positioning on stage, the props they handle and what they talk about. Hofmannsthal might have been affirming the real, or the finite, in Arabella, but it does not mark a return to naturalism. 10 Hofmannsthal to Strauss, 22 December 1927, Richard Strauss and Hugo von Hofmannsthal, Correspondence, trans. Hanns Hammelmann and Ewald Osers (London: Collins, 1961), 461. 11 Hofmannsthal to Strauss, 1 July 1927 , Correspondence , 433. 12 Hofmannsthal, 22 December 1927, Correspondence , 463. Translation amended for clarity. 13 Reproductions of the designs for the original sets and costumes can be found in Kenneth Birkin, Arabella (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989). 14 See Hofmannsthal to Strauss, 26 July 1928, Correspondence, 495. 15 Hofmannsthal, "From "The Book of Friends"", Selected Prose, trans. Mary Hottinger, Tania & James Stern (New York: Pantheon, 1952), 362. 16 Ibid., 374. Symbol The dominance of Baconian scientific thought meant that the modern person was unable to apprehend the world without dichotomizing it into symbolic and rational thought, or another equivalent binary pair.17 The non-modern would make no distinction between 'religious' and 'scientific' thought; religious symbolism itself was functional, and few would have even considered whether its supposed effect was empirically verifiable.18 Artistic symbolism recreated a dim echo of this religious experience by using elliptical, melodic language in order to obscure the meaning of the symbols and evoke a dreamlike psychological state. But, however successful an individual artist was at evoking this état d'âme as an affect, the pretension that it allowed one to understand the inner meaning of things could only ever be seen as fakery.19 Arabella marked the culmination of a new way of thinking about the symbol in art for Hofmannsthal: it now functioned allegorically so that, although it could not be read with the precision of a linguistic signifier, each symbol opened up a loosely circumscribed space of meaning. This meant that, instead of the obscurity of a symbolism that attempted to fake the mystery of religious experience, the more legible symbols demonstrated how the 'encounter' enabled the individual to move away from the internal, infinite part of his being into the shared external, finite part of existence. One of the most important recurring symbols in Hofmannsthal's oeuvre is that of 'outer [auSen]' as opposed to 'inner [innen]'. Throughout the whole of the first act, the image of Arabella's going out is foremost. In the scene with Zdenka, she keeps looking out of the window towards the world with all its diverse possibilities. In the final solo scene she is preparing to go out in the present moment with Elemer, but she is also mentally preparing herself to go out to the ball that evening. These literal examples of 'going out' stand for the process of individuation: in order for the Self to come into existence it is necessary for it to undertake a figurative 'going out' into the world.20 The Self sits at the centre of the whole universe, as Chandos realizes in his moments of clarity: 'I, in a state of continuous intoxication, conceived the whole of existence as one great unit [...] thus it prevailed through the whole expanse of life in all directions; everywhere I was in the centre of it, never suspecting mere appearance'.21 According to Hofmannsthal's metaphysics, the World, which can only be one of appearance, is contained within the individual, and the Self and World can only become separate by attempting to act in the world. Through action, the person experiences resistance to his will which then serves to define the boundaries of the Self: 'living, or living oneself out 17 This tendency is demonstrated, for example, in the essay 'Concerning Two Kinds of Thinking' in Carl Jung, Psychology of the Unconscious: A Study of the Transformations and Symbolisms of the Libido, trans. Beatrice M. Hinkle (New York: Dodd, Mead & Company, 1916), which Hofmannsthal had in his library. 18 Ladislav Holy, Religion and Custom in a Muslim Society: The Berti of Sudan (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991), 210. 19 This is the substance of the argument in Nietzsche's Der Fall Wagner (1888). 20 Draußen (the space outside the home) is acting as a metaphor for außen (the space outside herself in which she interacts with others). 21 Hugo von Hofmannsthal, "The Letter of Lord Chandos", The Whole Difference: Selected Writings of Hugo von Hofmannsthal, trans. Tania and James Stern (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2008), 69-79; 72. completely, [is possible] only in the struggle with opposing powers'.22 In his survey of the symbols of 'outer' and 'inner' in Hofmannsthal's output, J.H. Reid writes: 'all Hofmannsthal's heroes have to break out of their introverted state'.23 In Ariadne auf Naxos (1912/16), in a nod to the Wagnerian/early-Nietzschean stance of The Birth of Tragedy, going out of oneself means towards a Dionysian oneness with the universe. Ariadne hides in her cave, ignoring the advances of the comme-dia dell'arte troupe, who evoke the satyr chorus of Greek theatre, only emerging to embrace Bacchus who transforms her into a constellation of stars. In a step closer to what happens in Arabella, the Kaiserin in Die Frau ohne Schatten (1918) has her non-personhood symbolized by her lack of shadow; she is only able to gain selfhood by acting, or rather by deliberately not acting. It is her cry of 'Ich - will - nicht!', marking her refusal to drink from the fountain of life, which would deny the Dyer and his wife children, that enables her to join the world of life and gain a shadow. Arabella's 'cave' or 'lack of shadow' is her passivity, her peering out from behind the curtain and hoping that the world will come to her. As in the earlier operas, she only joins Life through her action at the very end. There is, however, something that lifts Arabella above the solipsistic moaning of Ariadne or the mendacious thievery of the Kaiserin, and that is her awareness of the inherent potentiality of her situation. Arabella's most attractive qualities - knowing her own mind, being in control of her situation, and a willingness to take risks - do not square with her decision to sacrifice her own self-interest for that of her wastrel parents by marrying a rich count.24 The odd combination of headstrongness and passivity, in which she knows exactly what she wants but just sits around waiting for it to happen, can make her character seem aloof and unreasonable. But Hofmannsthal chose these attributes in order that she is best able to perform her symbolic function. When she does eventually 'go out' she does not feel constrained to do so within the parameters that have been set for her, but is prepared to look beyond the limits of her Viennese sphere. This is where the idea of the 'encounter', which Hofmannsthal first explored in a short prose work of 1907, becomes important. The encounter offers the individual the opportunity for 'disintegration' and then a choice of the infinite possibilities available for 'reintegration':25 'At no moment is the sensual so close to the spiritual, the spiritual so sensual, as in the encounter. At this moment everything is possible, everything in flux, everything diffused'. 26 For Hofmannsthal, it was people with Arabella's almost impossible mix of personality traits that were particularly susceptible to the power of the encounter: 'For a very daring, very naive imagination, [...] wherein innocence and cynicism are inextricably entangled, the encounter is already the anticipation of embrace'.27 Compare this to his 22 Hugo Hofmannsthal, Gesammelte Werke in Einzelausgaben, ed. Herbert Steiner, vol. 15: Aufzeichnungen, (Frankfurt am Main: S. Fischer Verlag, 1959), 127. 23 J. H. Reid, ""Draussen sind wir zu finden" - The Development of a Hofmannsthal Symbol", German Life and Letters vol. 17, no. 1 (Fall 1973): 43. 24 For the genesis of these characteristics see Hofmannsthal's letters to Strauss, 20 November, 22 December, 25 December 1927, Correspondence, 456, 460, 465. 25 Hofmannsthal, "Book of Friends", 353. 26 Hofmannsthal, "Encounters" (1907), Selected Prose, 208-9. 27 Ibid., 209. description of Arabella to Strauss as 'a mature and beautiful girl who has probed too deeply into certain aspects of life, a little seared by cynicism and resignation'. 28 Arabella admits that if her encounter were to result in an actual meeting, it is more than likely that 'he would become like anyone else to her', the spell would be broken just as it was with the other suitors. But while it remains just an encounter, she can derive that exquisitely mournful pleasure in contemplating the possible outcomes of a deeply desired meeting that will never happen. The purpose of the rest of the opera is to show how, when the encounter takes place in the right mythical framework and with the right attitude to ritual, that sense of possibility can be extended indefinitely into the future. Myth For the primitive, myth is a not a system of thought through which the world can be explained, it simply presents the world the way it is. The modern, conversely, is able to distinguish between those beliefs that are scientifically demonstrable, 'facts', and those that stem from religion or other types of superstition, 'myths'. 'Myth' in the sense Hofmannsthal would have understood the term, therefore, is a concept only available to moderns. This causes two interrelated problems: firstly, unlike myth, which sets out a basis for morality, science offers no criteria for making judgements; secondly, despite the fact myth has no scientific claim to truth, it seems to be indispensable for life.29 Following on from Nietzsche's treatment of this problem in Beyond Good and Evil (Jenseits Gut und Bose, 1886), Hofmannsthal wasn't concerned about the truth of his mythopoe-ic creations in some non-existent 'reality'; his task was to channel what is already available in the culture into something 'life-promoting'.30 The particular myth Hofmannsthal tapped into in Arabella was that of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, namely that Austria was uniquely able, through its shared cultural memory, to act as a lynchpin in Europe, tying Slav and Germanic countries together in supra-national harmony. 31 On casual acquaintance with Arabella, one could be forgiven for assuming that Mandryka was the stock 'funny foreigner', who in Austrian theatre was traditionally a Slav (Prince Orlofsky in Die Fledermaus is a good example). However, in Hof-mannsthal's post-war stage works the Slav started to serve a more serious purpose. 32 In Der Schwierige (1921), he was primarily concerned with unfavourably contrasting modern German character types with the already mythical pre-war Austrian aristocrat. The Slavs only appear in absentia, but Hofmannsthal emphasized their willingness to join with their Austrian fighting comrades on the Carpathian front in defence of the Empire. Like Arabella, Der Unbestechliche (1923) has a Slav as a main character, a butler 28 Hofmannsthal to Strauss, 25 December 1927, Correspondence, 465. 29 Bronislaw Malinowski, an anthropologist who did his important fieldwork in the 1920s, called it a 'vital ingredient of human civilization': Magic, Science and Religion, and Other Essays (Garden City, NY: Doubleday Anchor, 1948), 101. 30 Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil, Basic Writings of Nietzsche (2000), 201-2. 31 See Hofmannsthal, "Antwort auf die Umfrage "Svenska Dagbladet"" [1915] (Übersetzt von Friedrich Stieve), Gesammelte Werke, Aufzeichnungen, 363 and Hofmannstahl to Bodenhausen, 10 July 1917, Briefe der Freundschaft (Düsseldorf E. Diederichs, 1953), 235-236. 32 J. B. Bednall, "The Slav Symbol in Hofmannsthal's Post-War Comedies", German Life and Letters vol. 14, no. 1-2 (1961): 36. Theodor, who acts as a foil to an Austrian society 'already gravely weakened by moral leukaemia'.33 Despite the comic mileage wrought from Theodor's mangled diction, his main function is as a symbol of volkish innocence, brought in to act as a guilty conscience for the main character, a young Baron. This idea of the Slav as offering potential salvation to the morally corrupt Viennese was carried to its logical conclusion in Arabella, where Mandryka is of equal or greater social status than any of the Viennese, and it is he who gets the girl. In order to achieve this reversal Hofmannsthal conflated two ideals: that of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, with its connotations of strength through diversity, and that of the Volk. The still relatively large mass of peasants, around one third of the population of Austria at the time, were seen by the Conservative Revolutionaries as part of any remedy for society's ills, since they were uncontaminated by the mistakes of the nineteenth century or any of the intellectual problems posed by modernity. Mandryka retains the Slav-German idiom from his army days, but his delivery is more nuanced than Theodor's: Hofmannsthal 'provides him with constructions and figures of speech which blend convincingly with his Slav imagery'.34 And it is this imagery, of the autochthonous Slav with the 'aura of tall, silent forests, of deep, spontaneous emotion, of self-sufficiency and an uncorrupted natural order', through which Hofmannsthal is able to sell the volkish ideal to his audience.35 Hofmannsthal's saw the Conservative Revolution in terms of centuries and he was under no illusion that an immediate retreat from modernity was possible. By staging the mythical ideal of Bodenständigkeit - the sense of identity with folk, soil and immediate homeland, unchanging values, and oneness with ancestors and past - through the Slav symbol, he had the more modest aim of drawing out qualities that were already latent in the modern audience. What we have in Arabella, then, is the mirror image of what Edward Said saw occurring in much nineteenth century literature, where the orient is concocted as a mysterious other through which the darker regions of the European psyche might be explored.36 Hofmannsthal's positively marked, but equally fictive, other - knitted together from a nostalgia for empire, a Romantic deification of nature and a city-dweller's ignorance of the realities of feudal life - would, he believed, resonate sufficiently with audiences to encourage them to shake off their spiritual torpor. For this to work, the portrait of Vienna he painted had to be allegorically recognizable as the contemporary city and, for all their faults, the characters had to seem severely misguided rather than rotten to the core. Hofmannsthal achieved this by ensuring all the characters other than Arabella and Mandryka were caricatures, each exhibiting one amusing trait. Hofmannsthal described the three Counts as in 'frivolous pursuit of all skirts' and Waldner as 'that cashiered cavalry captain and his whole shady milieu' and how 'these figures are tainted by vulgarity, tangled up with a rather vulgar and dubious Vienna'.37 But the characters are not simply 33 Ibid., 38. 34 Ibid., 42. 35 Williams, The Broken Eagle, 25. 36 Edward Said, Orientalism (London: Penguin, 2003), 166-97. 37 Hofmannsthal to Strauss, 13 July 1928, Correspondence, 486. 'vulgar', each is the victim of a crippling self-delusion: the Countess puts her faith in the prognostications of a fortune teller, the Count believes the answer to his financial problems lies at the gaming table, and the three young counts swim through life entitled to everything, striving for nothing. The biggest self-defeating fantasy of all, however, is that monetary wealth alone is necessary for deliverance. Waldner's gambling is shorthand for stock market speculation, and the alacrity with which he accepts Mandryka's money shows the morally bankrupt ethos of money for nothing prevalent during boom times -as true in the 1920s, when the libretto was written, as it was in the 1860s, when it was set. The point of the Slav mythology, then, was not to provide a scientifically verifiable theory of origins to replace the belief requirement of Christianity, but a utopian idea, whose fictiveness was always acknowledged, through which the present evils would be made manifest and a better way of organizing society imagined. Ritual Hofmannsthal's antipathy towards the Comtean revolution in the social sciences, in which all knowledge had to be purged of anything metaphysical or mysterious, was not without rational foundation.38 In her book Ritual Theory, Ritual Practice, Catherine Bell shows how Hofmannsthal's anthropologist contemporaries, like Emile Dur-kheim, Arnold van Gennep and Rudolf Otto, who were involved in the positivization of theology, ended up trapped in the thought-action dichotomy through which 'ritual' is defined.39 In order to theorize ritual, the anthropologist separates its psychological component, which are called 'beliefs', from the bodily action, which is then termed 'ritual'. This then sets up a chain of consequent dichotomies. The first is the distinction between the scientist's analytical thought and the subject's symbolic thought, and since the former allows the scientist to 'understand' the latter, it unavoidably privileges that type of thinking. This then leads to the further separation of nature and supernature, or of sacred and profane, which might be viewed by insiders as continua. The ritual process has typically been seen by the anthropologist as a process in which thought and action are dialectically synthesized. Ritual thereby reverses what only ever was a theoretical distinction in the first place, imposed from the outside and having nothing to do with the way it is seen by the participants. However, with the ubiquity of the scientific mode of thinking in intellectual discourse, it is impossible not to split religious practice, or art in its role as a humanist replacement for religion, into the evidentially effective and ineffective, or propositionally true and untrue. The well-known 'Staircase Scene', the finale of Arabella, represents Hofmannsthal's attempt to invent a way of performing ritual in which the truth or effectiveness of the ideas involved became unimportant. Arabella and Mandryka do not simply enact a pre-existing ritual and thus confirm a set of firmly held religious beliefs. Instead they take two separate ritual practices from 38 William R. Everdell, "Chapter 2: The Century Ends in Vienna", The First Moderns (Chicago & London: Chicago University Press, 1997), 13-29. 39 Catherine Bell, Ritual Theory, Ritual Practice (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1992). their own cultures and combine them in an improvised manner. When Arabella hands the glass of water to Mandryka, which he then takes, empties and then smashes against the stairs, the couple are explicitly acting out the local betrothal rite that he told her about when he proposed in Act II. The glass of water that the bride-to-be would draw from the river, then pass to her suitor, has a number of associations. It represents virginal purity, as Arabella acknowledges when she hands over the glass with the words: 'and so I present this untouched drink to my friend'. It also represents fidelity, which is reinforced by Mandryka smashing the glass against the steps so that 'no one will ever drink out of this glass after me'. Further, water is often thought of as a source of life and when it occurs with the feminine can be a symbol of fertility. And it also stands for the cycle of life and death: the death of the girl Arabella and her rebirth into womanhood. Before handing over the glass to Mandryka, Arabella sings of a 'power ... from above [Macht ... von oben]', referring to the transformative, purifying power of Mandryka's love. But after, when I felt you here standing in the dark, A great power from above touched my heart, So that I no longer had to refresh myself with a drink, No, a feeling of happiness had already refreshed me [...] [Dann aber, wie ich Sie gespürt hab' hier im Finstern stehn, hat eine grosse Macht mich angerührt von oben bis ans Herz, dass ich mich nicht erfrischen muss mit einem Trunk: nein, mich erfrischt schon das Gefühl von meinem Glück, [...] ] In giving him the water that she wanted for herself, she is making a sacrifice for Mandryka. In the Catholic tradition, Lent is a period of self-denial and abstinence which the believer undergoes in order to purify himself before the festival of Easter, when Jesus's sacrifice is celebrated. At the start of this process, on Ash Wednesday, the penitent must confess and ask for forgiveness from a priest. In this scene, which almost certainly takes place in the early hours of Ash Wednesday, Arabella is acting like a priest and, instead of painting the sacramental cross of ashes on his forehead, gives Mandryka the glass of water as a symbol of absolution. Although the secularity of the ritual is never in doubt (Hofmannsthal only uses the verb 'verzeihen', never 'vergeben', which is used in religious expressions such as 'vergeben der Sünden', 'the remission of sins'), what initially appears to be the Slav betrothal rite can just as easily be seen as an echo of the Catholic absolution rite. Earlier accounts of the libretto have tended to masculinize the opera - something Carolyn Abbate has noticed at play in the discourse on Elektra (1909) - painting Mandryka as a 'redeemer' come to rescue Arabella from the clutches of a depraved city.40 It is certainly true Mandryka is the 'key' to the whole work - a point Hofmannsthal flattered Strauss for understanding - and that the glass of water is meant to resonate with the Slav symbol Mandryka as a sign of spiritual purity.41 But although Mandryka is a welcome 'breath of fresh totally different air' come to blow the filth of corruption 40 J. B. Bednall does this in "The Slav Symbol in Hofmannsthal's Post-War Comedies", German Life and Letters vol. 14, no. 1-2 (1961): 42. 41 Hofmannsthal to Strauss, 13 July 28, Correspondence, 486-7. away from the city', the purification does not travel in only one direction; Vienna has something to give in return, its unique ability to form bonds with, and draw strength from, foreign cultures. The result is a mutual transformation, which Arabella accomplishes by appropriating an alien ritual from her suitor and combining it with her own indigenous practice. The scientifically unprovable belief systems that are articulated by either Slavic (pagan) or Catholic ritual are secondary to the performative nature of the action which brings together two culturally different individuals regardless of any symbolic/mythical meaning. It carries the necessary weight of tradition(s), which supplies the necessary spiritual feeling to the occasion, but without the need for supernatural intervention or the sanction of a fixed dogma. POVZETEK Hofmannsthalovo odločitev, da postane libretist, se običajno utemeljuje z njegovim prepričanjem, da besede ne zadostujejo za estetski (umetnostno-religiozni) izraz. Upal naj bi, da bo glasba dala njegovim besedilom transcendentalni blesk, potreben za doseganje umetnostno-religioznega doživetja. Namen pričujočega besedila je kritično oceniti tezo, da je Hofmannsthalov libreto za opero Arabella (1933) apoliničen, Straussova glasba pa dionizična - t. j. da je v tem pogledu podobna svojim wagnerjanskim predhodnicam. V Wagnerjevi metafizični zasnovi je glasba povezana z višjo stvarnostjo, skozi katero lahko sporoča globljo univerzalno resnico, ki leži za besedami. Glasba omogoča vpogled v neskončnost, ko poslušalec primerja neomejeno mnoštvo možnih mitov, vsebovanih v pra-mitu, z določnostjo mita, uresničenega na odru in v besedilu. V nasprotju s to "notranje dionizično" estetiko, v kateri estetsko enovitost notranje doživlja posameznik, ko ga glasba poveže z Wille, trdim, da si je Hofmannsthal v Arabelli prizadeval za "zunanje dionizično" estetiko, v kateri se povezanost uresničuje v skupnem zunanjem lingvističnem prostoru. To dosega z alegoričnim simbolizmom in ustvarjanjem mitičnih svetov, ki prikrijejo protislovja, ter uresničevanjem obeh v času s pomočjo obrednosti. Prevod naslova, izvlečka in povzetka Aleš Nagode UDK 783.29.071.1 DOI: 10.4312/mz.50.2.251-272 Matjaž Barbo Filozofska fakulteta, Univerza v Ljubljani Faculty of Arts, University of Ljubljana Resurrecturis - Musical Triptych in the Form of a Concert Requiem, composed by P. Ramovš, J. Trošt, and S. Vremšak Resurrecturis - Glasbeni triptih v obliki koncertnega rekvijema skladateljev P. Ramovša, J. Trošta in S. Vremšaka Prejeto: 6. januar 2013 Sprejeto: 27. marec 2013 Ključne besede: Primož Ramovš, Jože Trošt, Samo Vremšak, rekviem, glasbeni triptih IZVLEČEK Triptih skladb P. Ramovša, J. Trošta in S. Vremšaka je zasnovan kot koncertni rekviem, posvečen spominu žrtvam komunističnih pobojev po koncu druge svetovne vojne. Poudarjen religiozni značaj rekviema je vpet v posvetni estetski kontekst, namenjen izvedbi pred občinstvom v koncertni dvorani. Received: 6th January 2013 Accepted: 27th March 2013 Keywords: Primož Ramovš, Jože Trošt, Samo Vremšak, requiem, musical triptych Abstract The triptych of works written by P. Ramovš, J. Trošt, and S. Vremšak was conceived in the form of a concert requiem and dedicated to the memory of victims of the communist massacres after the WW II. The emphasised religious frame of a requiem is integrated into a secular aesthetic context, to be played in a concert hall before a concert audience. On the June 29, 1995, a triptych of works, written by three Slovenian composers, P. Ramovš, J. Trošt, and S. Vremšak, was first performed. The work was conceived in the form of a concert requiem and dedicated to the memory of those who died as victims of the communist massacres immediately after WW II and are buried in numerous mass graves in Slovenia. Despite the fact that the triptych as a work of art was intended for performance in a concert venue, its aesthetic character is melded directly with a religious function. In addition, one should not forget the political sense of the work and the performance. The massacres after the WW II are namely one of most burning political questions in Slovenia. Their apparent "ideological determination" is still an excuse for continued political and juridical problems. The discussed triptych is a sort of musical pendant to the Great Requiem for Killed Slovenes (Velika črna maša za pobite Slovence, 1949), which was written under the pseudonym Jeremija Kalin by the political emigrant Tine Debeljak (1903-1989) while living in Argentina. The Requiem was dedicated to the massacres after the war and all killed in the communist revolution. Its dedication and at the same time its religious character as a sort of a prayer is best described by the introductory verses of the first poem (Deprofundis - Iz globočine): "Lord! I am waiting on the doorstep of your temple, / to read for those Slovenes, bloody killed / ... / Great Requiem." The first composition of the triptych was written by Primož Ramovš (1921-1999). Ramovš is one of most distinctive representatives of Slovenian modernism after WW II. He arose as a composer under the direct tutelage of Slavko Osterc, who provided a solid compositional foundation. Later on, he followed a lively neoclassicism, touched the innovations of the dodecaphonic system, and finally loosened his musical structure after encountering aleatory music, most particularly that of W. Lutoslawski. His music arises from aleatory improvisation with sharp contrasts, abrupt leaps and, foremost, numerous colourful shades. Although he had written also for soloists and chamber groups, the sound of the symphony orchestra was nearest to his musical sensibility. Perhaps the reason for that was that orchestral sound resembled that of his favourite organs - that is, Ramovš improvised on the organs of three central Ljubljana churches until his death; his daring and musically deep improvisations attracted numerous listeners. As a modernist, he did not like vocal or any other expression of meaning outside that of the purely musical. Music was for him a paradigm of an extreme expression without any extraneous meaning. He wrote some vocal music, primarily in his earlier years, but nevertheless tried to escape from a pure illustration of the text. A typical example could be his composition for a mixed choir, Diptychon orationis (1951).1 The work has a sacred text but is conceived as an objective musical expression of a cappella music with elements of neo-renaissance polyphony and without any traces of an intimate declaration of an existential expressionistic story. Exactly the same can be said for his later compositions - his compositional style focuses on objective and pure musical narration. This can be demonstrated also with the list of his works:2 while his first works can be defined in traditional terms and genres,3 he later distanced himself from every limit of traditional genres and focused on the broad area of free modernist exploration. On the other hand, this does not mean that his works are written in a social vacuum. Quite to the contrary, one can hear a response to concrete contemporary events. One of the most illustrative examples of such is his Simfonija 68 (Symphony 68, 1968). It was written as a creative response to the social fermentation of the "revolutionary" year 1968. Similar things can be said for his orchestral work Per aspera ad astra (1991), 1 The composition was published in: Cerkveni glasbenik, 78, št. 10-12 (1985), music supplement p. 25-32. 2 Zoran Krstulovic, "Seznam del skladatelja Primoža Ramovša", Muzikološkizbornik 35 (1999): 25-86. 3 Ramovš's op. 1 is a characteristic children opera Kako je pridna Micka prišla v nebesa (How did diligent Mici come to Heaven, 1932). Latter on he writes compositions such as Sonata for piano no. 1 (1935), numerous fugues, Concerto for piano and orchestra op. 14 (1936), Symphony for a string orchestra (1937), String trio (1937), Wind quintet (1937), String quartet (1939), Symphony no. 1 (1941), String quartet no. 2 (1942), Symphony no. 2 (1944), Symphony no. 3 (1948), Simfonietta (1951). symbolically dedicated with its optimistic character to the Slovenian independence movement, characterized by Ivo Petric as "the author's internal answer to the general enthusiasm at the emergence of the free homeland".4 In a special way this response can also be followed in his Simfonija Pietà, with which the triptych begins. Its context also defines the contents of Ramovš's work. Ramovš wrote in the introduction to his work: "I wish you would open your mind to its language and its contents and thus to experience all this that I want to say."5 This content can be of course understood in terms of Ramovš's characteristic independent musical language: autonomous tonal relations and structures, i.e. in terms of Hanslick's "tönend bewegte Formen". This is represented by the modernistic world of the negation of tonal relations, motive and thematic development and rhythmic and metric structures. Ramovš seeks a sound of sharp harmonies, clusters, fluttering trills, opposing glissandos, noise, blows of tonally undefined percussion, pulsation outside any determinable metrical periods etc. All this is dressed in aleatory fragments with a free improvisational character, giving creative freedom to performers and at the same time achieving a more dense and intense expression. These fragments generally produce a chromatically fulfilled sound space, as for example in Example 1 (204-205): 4 Ivo Petric, a text to the booklet to the CD: Primož Ramovš (Portreti slovenskih skladateljev/Portraits of Slovenian Composers), Ed.DSS 998015. 5 Matjaž Barbo, "Notes on the Compositions Resurrecturis (Musical Triptych)", in Resurrecturis (Tistim, ki bodo vstali), (Ljubljana: Nova slovenska zaveza: Slovenski spominski odbor, 2000), x. Example 1: P. Ramovš, Simfonija Pieta, No. 204ff. Example 2: P. Ramovs, Simfonija Pieta, No. 187 ff. Characteristic for Ramovs's style is also a tonal sequence that rises slowly from a gradually fulfilled chromatic space and forms some apparent "modal" units without any specific structural logic. Typical are the sequences after No. 187: Nevertheless one can find in the composition even some associations with traditional structural relations. The most obvious is the symmetry, formed by note C at the beginning of the symphony and at its end. Typically it is carried at first by low strings, followed gradually by higher and brighter instruments - a succession that goes in the opposite direction at the end of the work. In this connection the strings seemingly represent the sound of an organ, foremost that of the human and warm organ stop »vox humana«. As an opposition to that Ramovs builds sharp and penetrable cries of woodwinds and brass, which reminds one of a mixture or reed organ stops. Characteristic is theirff unison entry on the tone C-sharp (No. 107), which in its chromatic and dynamic sharpness represents the opposition between the dead and their executioners. Example 3: P. Ramovš, Simfonija Pieta, No. 107 ff. A similar outer-musical association, of which we would have difficulty ridding ourselves, are the blows of percussion instruments (wood-blocks, temple-blocks, and xylophone, No. 152), reminding us of the chattering of bones as written in the book of the prophet Ezekiel and quoted in the motto of the composition by Samo Vremsak: "As soon as I said this, the wind blew among the bodies, and they came back to life! They all stood up, and there were enough to make a large army." (Ezekiel 37:10) Example 4: P. Ramovš, Simfonija Pietà, No. 152 ff. The modal segment at the end of the symphony seems like a foreign object in the context of the other sharp and penetrating sounds. In that moment the composer quotes the Gregorian chant Requiem aeternam dona eis Domini. The beginning of the chant is even very similar to the melody of the prayer Our Father written by France Acko (19041974), a setting most broadly popular in Slovenian churches. The chant can function as still another referential point for the composer's intentions. Symphony Pieta (pity) declares thus not only the pain felt by Antigone regarding the unburied Polynices but an inner prayer of the woman holding the dead body of her son (cf. No. 209 ff.). Example 5: P. Ramovš, Simfonija Pietà, No. 209ff. The chant appears again right at the end of the composition, this time played by an English horn. The choice of instrument could also be Ramovš' reference to the terrible fact that after the war Slovenian refugees in Austria were sent by way of a deception into the hands of Tito's partisans, thus being sent by English soldiers to their death. One must not overlook the fact that in the composition Ramovš is dealing with events that directly touched him. Namely, as a young man he played in the orchestra of the Slovenian Home Guard Army. He was also imprisoned together with many others who were killed soon afterwards. His father, an esteemed linguist and academician, Fran Ramovš (1890-1952),6 succeeded with great effort to have his son released. The Requiem of Tine Debeljak was also the starting point for the composition Requiem written by Jože Trošt (1940), which covers the ground between the tragedy of death and religious hope. The contrast is carried by an exchange between soloists and choir. On the one hand, one can follow the expression of personal horror and groan provoked by the national tragedy. The composer chooses significant passages from the Debeljak's Requiem, in which Slovenia is called "a mountain of skulls" and a question arises: "Does the Slovenian land have no graves for us?" As an answer for the unburied the composer employs the words from The Book of Revelation: "'Put this in writing. From now on, the Lord will bless everyone who has faith in him when they die.' The Spirit answered, 'Yes, they will rest from their hard work, and they will be rewarded for what they have done."' (Rev 14:13) These individual findings, brought forth by soloists, are closed with the prayer: "Let them rest in peace." The appearances of soloists are fastened in a bitter dissonant setting without a clear tonality centre or structural periodization. This is an individual perception of the tragedy, its contemplation and compassion. One sole time the composer includes a duet as "a voice from heaven" complementing the basic meditation. These passages are full of chromatism, often producing a sort of "passus duriusculus", recitative fragments, rubato singing, sharp cries etc. Rare are the moments of peaceful calm, marked by pure major chords, as for example at the moment when the soloist refers to the souls set by Christ "as stars on the right side" (p. 7). 6 Fran Ramovš was the first chancellor of the University of Ljubljana (1934-35), co-founder and member of Slovenian Academy of Sciences and Arts and its chairman till his death. The importance of Fran Ramovš' work can be clearly underlined by the fact that the date of his first lecture on the newly established University of Ljubljana on 3rd of December was acclaimed as an university celebration day. Example 6: J. Trost, Requiem, p. 7. A similar passage with a peaceful D-flat major chord accompanies the closure of the fragment, where the expectation of eternal peace is declared: "The army of unbur-ied soldiers is waiting to rest in peace" (p. 21). ¡i CKitendo Example 7: J. Trošt, Requiem, p. 21. Individual contemplations in the Slovenian language are complemented by choral passages that bring forth fragments from the Latin mass for deceased. The choice of language and musical cast can be compared in function to the chorus in a Greek drama - a commentary on personal fate from an "objective" distance, giving its meaning from the perspective of a higher Justice. These passages are thus intentionally connected to "objective" traditional compositional procedures; they are tied to the legacy of choral polyphony in the frames of a clearly definable tonal or modal musical space. Characteristic of that is the introductory "Requiem aeternam" set in the "Phrygian mode" (p. 1), repeated at the end of composition as a kind of a Leitmotiv (p. 42). 7 Example 8: J. Trost, Requiem, pp. 1 and 42. Example 9: J. Trost, Requiem, p. 47. Nevertheless, Trost tries to avoid unambiguous tonal harmony, he adds nonhar-monic tones, reinterprets the functions of chords, repeatedly uses "empty" fifths, etc. The last mentioned are sometimes even joined to "bitonal" harmonies, as can be seen at the end of the composition (p. 47). This music is an expression of a metaphysical nature, of a truth that gives meaning also to tragedy and to an erased memory; it resuscitates even death itself. The last work of the triptych is the cantata Exercitus grandis nimis valde, composed by Samo Vremšak (1930-2004). In its cast the work connects Ramovš' symphony orchestra with Trošt's more intimate chorus with soloists and organ. At the same time, in its content the cantata rounds out the aforementioned ideas. The music of Vremšak similarly is a representation of modernist language: no clear tonal barriers, full of chromatics, unfilled quints, and modal associations. The composer also uses Sprechgesang, and liberamente loosens the metrical structure. In spite of such, his compositional technique is much less sharp and uncompromising, frequently closed in traditional numbers with clear tonal centres. A typical example of the latter is a "pastoral" passage, which paints the first blooms of spring "Razcvela se jablan bo rožna, / razsipala breskev svoj cvet, / objela bo misel pobožna / vsa srca, vse duše, ves svet. "7 Pastoral painting in woodwinds and strings frames a simple, almost folk melody in D major (pp. 23-25). 7 »Rosy apple tree will flourish, / Peach blossom will strew, / A pious mind will embrace / All hearts, all souls, the whole world.« (Translated by M. B.) Example 10: S. Vremšak, Exercitus grandis nimis valde, pp. 23-25. The text of the cantata is a compilation of the words of the prophet Ezekiel and verses from Slovenian poets: Alojz Gradnik, Stanko Majcen and France Balantic. The last mentioned has long been regarded in Slovenia as a forbidden author, because he was killed as a member of the Home Guard (domobranci); despite this, his poems are distinctively apolitical. The same is true for the author of the compilation, Zorko Simcic, who lived and worked as a Slovenian emigrant, becoming recognised as one of the best Slovenian contemporary writers only in recent decades. The mentioned contrasts between modernistic sharp narration and clear tonal passages, represents in a special way the mental disunity of the nation: between joy and sadness, optimism and despair, resistance and fatalism. This could be the reason the composition seems even too simple in some passages, as for example the thirds representing the "miracles that are happening" (p. 51). Example 11: S. Vremsak, Exercitus grandis nimis valde,p. 51. Almost expected is thus the final pompous section, in which horror in the face of death is replaced by a shining cry "Gloria eis!" in a bright orchestral tutti in F major (p. 58). Example 12: S. Vremšak, Exercitus grandis nimis valde, p. 58. The compositions associated in the triptych are very diverse in concept, style, and structure. Nevertheless, it is their common content and not simply their sequential connection that joins them. The succession of the musical triptych Resurrecturis can be compared to the events in Holy Week from Good Friday to the Resurrection. The death on the cross and the lamentation of the mother holding the dead body of her son (Pi-eta) is followed by the consignment of the body to the grave, then the mysterious descent to the front of hell on Holy Saturday (Requiem), and finally in the end the blinding light of the Resurrection (Exercitus grandis nimis valde). A peaceful, clear tone C from the beginning of Ramovs's Pieta is repeated in Vremsak's composition right at the moment in which the prophecy of Ezekiel is followed by the cry of resurrection joy: "Et resurrexit". The circle is rounded by a C major chord in a confirmation of religious hope: "et resurrexerunt, sicut speravimus". The triptych is thus unified in its content by the elements of religious contemplation, by the quotations of Gregorian chant, Biblical and Liturgical texts (the words of prophet Ezekiel, quotations from the Book of Revelation, and Latin Requiem Mass), as well as by contemporary poetic verses used as commentaries and prayers. The triptych was performed in the main Slovenian concert hall in Cankarjev dom with some outstanding Slovenian musicians, such as Veronika Fink-Menvielle, Bernarda Fink-Inzko, Marcos Fink, Marko Bajuk, the Slovenian Radio Symphony Orchestra, several choirs, and the conductor Marko Munih. The performance of the composition was meant to be a kind of requiem Mass, i.e., a reconciliation ceremony with the elements of prayer and a structural sequence reminiscent of liturgical form. The outstanding variety of musical elements, compositional concepts, aesthetic approaches and achievements give proof of the primary sacred referential frame with a religious function emphasised - even if performed in an explicit secular context, being played in the concert hall for a concert audience. POVZETEK 29. junija 1995 so v Cankarjevem domu v Ljubljani prvič izvedli triptih z naslovom Resurrecturis, sestavljen iz del skladateljev Primoža Ramovša, Jožeta Trošta in Sama Vremšaka. Delo je zasnovano kot koncertni rekviem, posvečen spominu vseh tistih, ki so umrli kot žrtve komunističnih pobojev po koncu 2. svetovne vojne in so pokopani v številnih slovenskih množičnih grobiščih. Triptih uvaja Simfonija Pieta, katere avtor je P. Ramovš, eden najpomembnejših predstavnikov povojnega vala slovenskega modernizma. Značilno je Ramovš kot modernist glasbo obravnaval kot skrajni domet brezvsebinskega izražanja. Vendarle je svoja dela včasih odkrito povezoval s konkretnimi družbenimi dogodki, kot npr. v Simfoniji 68 (1968) ali v simfonični skladbi Per aspera ad astra (1991). Morda še posebej izrazito to velja za Simfonijo Pieta, ki jo nedvomno vsebinsko opredeljuje omenjeni okvir. Seveda se Ramovš ne odreka zanj značilni emancipirani glasbeni govorici modernistično izbrušenega zvoka ostrih sozvočij, clustrov, prhutajočih trilčkov, navzkrižnih glissandov in šumov zunaj metrične pulzacije in v aleatoričnih odsekih improvizacijskega značaja, s katerimi dosega gostejši in intenzivnejši izraz. Vendarle je najti tudi določene asociacije na tradicionalne strukturne odnose. Tako izstopa simetrija, ki jo določa začetni postopoma grajeni ton C, v katerega se ob končni razredčitvi znova ves zvočni prostor znova izteče. Ob koncu skladbe zasledimo tudi citat gregorijanskega napeva Requiem aeter-nam dona eis Domini, ki je hkrati enak začetku v slovenskih cerkvah najbolj razširjenega napeva molitve Oče naš Franceta Ačka. Requiem J. Trošta v razklani dvojnosti med upom in brezupom išče pot v odrešitev. Nasprotje izpelje v menjavi solistov in zbora. Na eni strani smo priče subjektivni grozi, ječanju nad narodovo tragedijo, odetemu v trpko disonančno okolje v razklanem območju netonalitetne razsrediščenosti brez urejene strukturalne periodizacije. To na drugi strani dopolnjujejo zborovski odlomki, ki prinašajo besedilo latinske maše za umrle. Izbira jezika in zasedbe asociira na funkcijo zbora v antični drami, ki objektivizirajoče komentira osebno usodo ter jo osmišlja z vidika višje pravičnosti. Ti odseki so zato hoteno »objektivizirani«, vpeti so v pretekle formule in se navezujejo na dediščino zborovske polifonije. Izražajo človekovo presežnost - resnico, ki daje pomen tudi umiranju, izbrisanemu spominu in oživlja celo samo smrt. Vremšakova kantata Exercitus grandis nimis valde povezuje obe prejšnji »sliki« triptiha. Tudi zanjo je značilna modernistično tonalitetno razprta glasbena govorica, polna kromatičnih prehodov, nezapolnjenih sozvočij praznih kvint ali modalnih asociacij. Vendarle je Vremšakov stavek manj oster ter večkrat bolj odkrito ujet v sklenjene strukture z razpoznavnimi tonalnimi središči. Skladbo sklene veličasten vzklik, v katerem grozoto soočenja s smrtjo prekinja idila, ki jo končno povzame bleščeč vzklik »Gloria eis!« - v srhljivem trpetu pred smrtjo in obenem v mogočni pritrditivi vstajenju. Omenjeni triptih se tako po vsebini dotika izvirnega religioznega konteksta rekviema kot liturgične oblike, s tem da je namenjen spominu mrtvih, njihovemu pietetnemu poklonu, spravnemu slovesu z njimi in končno kontemplaciji smrti. Vendarle dopolnjuje osnovno religiozno kontemplacijo poudarjena estetska poglobitev in umetniška forma, ki presega izvirni duhovni kontekst, v kolikor seveda ne razumemo vsakega dejanja v okviru neke umetnostne religije - katere vrhunec predstavlja koncertni dogodek - eksplicitno za liturgično dejanje. UDK 783.29: 785 DOI: 10.4312/mz.50.2.273-278 Primož Trdan Radio Slovenija, Tavčarjeva 17, 1550 Ljubljana Radio Slovenia, Tavčarjeva 17, 1550 Ljubljana Lux aeternas by Two Composers: Sacred and Profane in the Context of Genre Individualisation Lux aeterna dveh skladateljev: sakralno in profano v luči zvrstne individualizacije Prejeto: 2. januar 2013 Sprejeto: 27. marec 2013 Ključne besede: Lux aeterna, György Ligeti, Tadeja Vulc, glasba 20. stoletja, zvrst, individualizacija umetniškega dela IZVLEČEK Prispevek se dvema skladbama z naslovom Lux aeterna, deloma Györgya Ligetija in sodobne slovenske skladateljice Tadeje Vulc, posveča skozi prizmo glasbene zvrsti. Takšen pristop se zdi primeren že zaradi Ligetijeve posebne obravnave sakralnega besedila, predvsem pa zaradi skladbe Tadeje Vulc, napisane za simfonični orkester, ki vsebuje šepetanje začetka besedila Lux aeterna. Vse to sproža več problemskih vozlišč, predvsem pa vprašanje, kaj je omogočilo, da lahko skladbi iz posvetnega zvrstnega okvirja prevzemata naslov in besedilo stavka rekviema. Received: 2nd January 2013 Accepted: 27th March 2013 Keywords: Lux aeterna, Gyorgy Ligeti, Tadeja Vulc, 20th century music, genre, individualisation of an artwork Abstract Two pieces, both titled Lux aeterna, are works by Gyorgy Ligeti and contemporary Slovenian composer Tadeja Vulc. The paper offers some thoughts on two pieces through the notion of genre. This point of view seems appropriate on account of Ligeti's distinctive treatment of the sacred text, but even more on account of Tadeja Vulc's work, a symphonic piece, which includes whispering the first words of Lux aeterna. This raises several questions, yet the main dilemma is how it came to be possible that pieces which originate from the genre realm of profane can easily embrace both title and text that used to mark a communio of a requiem mass. The fundamental characteristic of genre phenomenon appears to be its heterogeneity. Genre is defined as a connection of several different factors or criterions. In different historical periods, we find different criterions, on which genre norms were based on, but generally these four groups of factors were and are of most importance: (1) structure and form, (2) presence of text and its origin, (3) instrumentation and (4) performance context or social status. The notion of genre, as we understand it today, is historically confined. Its first traces can be found in Johannes de Grocheo's Ars musicae from the beginning of 14th century, genre later became an important concept in the time of music-print expansion, as it functioned - and still does - as a device of marketing and distributing music, while it was theoretically exposed and presented for the first time in 1739 with Mattheson's work Der vollkommene Capelmeister. But Hermann Danuser warns us, that this was a time when genre history reached its zenith and that soon after the notion of genre was replaced with idea of musical work as individual entity.1 This individuality was not manifested very clearly until 20th century modernistic project, which is commonly mentioned as a time of complete genre disintegration. Carl Dahlhaus explained how this supposed disintegration of genre is not a result of one single process, but rather a result of different changes in different genre factors - function, instrumentation, text and form.2 In the 19th century a Requiem mass was already a reasonably well established genre within the concert environment, therefore performance context is not as relevant for the two Lux aeternas in question as other three genre factors. The individualisation of instrumentation is closely connected to the growing awareness of sound-colour, tibral element in music. The orchestra's growth enabled not only stronger sound but through different instrumental combination provided also more precise differentiation of sound-colour configuration.3 As composers began to understand sound-colour as an independent compositional element, equal of harmony, melody, dynamics or articulation, they most likely started to choose instrumentation, which suited their conception best, and not instrumentation, which has previously been a part of inherited genre-norm. The position of text, its origin, meanings and symbolism, seems even more important for our problem. Listening habits changed during the 19th century in a way that vocal music - which used to be listened to exclusively in functional relationship to the text - became an object of structural or instrumental mode of listening. This led to disintegration of semantic dimension of texts, that were put to music within the context of a post-war New music.4 In several works, composers made use of text exclusively as a substratum of sound-nuances. After such step towards understanding of a text's role, the genre of chosen text ceased to define genre of music, based on this text. It becomes very obvious why, for example, genre identity of Stockhausen's Gesang der Jünglinge has no connection to biblical source of the text it includes. This role of text seems to represent a sharp change in genre history, but even more radical changes happened in individualisation of musical forms. This is a process, which took place during the greater part of the 19th century and is a result of changed relationship between music syntax, tonal system and motivic-thematic work. Structural transparency, as observed in the music of classicistic-romantic tradition, is a direct result of functional tonal harmony with regular appearing of harmonic cadences. Rapid evolving of tonal harmony, its more and more remote and unpredictable harmonic 1 Hermann Danuser, "Gattung", in Musik in Geschichte und Gegenwart 3 (Kassel: Bärenreiter, 1995), 1049. 2 Carl Dahlhaus, "New Music and the problem of musical genre", in Schoenberg and the New, transl. Alfred Clayton, Derrick Puffett (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989), 38. 3 Dahlhaus, "New Music and the problem of musical genre", 41. 4 Dahlhaus, "New Music and the problem of musical genre", 36; Carl Dahlhaus, Nineteenth-Century Music, transl. J. Bradford Robinson (Berkley: University of California Press, 1989), 5-6. relations and intense working with motifs - all this also redifined musical forms, which, in general, became ever more individual. Such formal individuality reached its radical point in 1950s with total serialism, other structuralistic methods and chance music. One of the sceptics of this development was also György Ligeti, who explained how such methods of musical material organisation abolish all types of established formal norm and cause changes in formal parts, which lose their vector-like functions.5 Ligeti argued that this changed attitude towards form counteract something, which is inherent to the phenomenon of music and musical form, namely, they counteract formal frame of reference. As he analysed a phenomenon of musical form, he drew a distinction between musical form and music as such. For him music itself is a pure time course, while musical form exists as an abstraction. This abstraction comes into being, as we look at musical time course in a retrospective manner. This retrospective characteristic of musical form includes two levels, real musical time and historical musical time, both of which help to define formal frame of reference. Individual vector-like function of each formal section establishes through both of these temporal levels. We can grasp these functions from inner-connections of certain composition, which occur in a real musical time, as well as from connectedness with (or deviations from) other works of a certain stylistic context or tradition line, which exist in a historical musical time frame.6 We can trace these Ligeti's ideas also in his piece Lux aeterna for 16 solo voices, composed in 1966. Form of this piece is defined with textural contrast between mi-cropolyphony and homophony. Within dominantly polyphonic piece Ligeti inserted two homophonic chord blocks, which define a formal idea on the level of the real musical time, and also trigger references on the traditional choral writing, thus establishing the historical temporal connections. Another strong historical reference seems to be Ligeti's microcanon, a special derivation from a polyphonic technique of imitation. Prefix micro refers to a specific difference from the traditional canon: time distances between voice appearances are much smaller and also the intervallic relations between parts appear to be similarly small. Even though micropolyphony is an important compositional technique, its result could just as well be understood from the aural perspective - here the audible recognisable and comprehensible technique is not polyphony of 16 voices, it is rather a sense of different sound facture. In Ligeti's Lux aeterna we do not hear a traditional polyphonic texture, but more likely a kind of surface of various densities and sound-colour nuances. This is reflected even in vocabulary by which Ligeti operates as he describes new musical syntax from the late 1950s. Rather than through parameters, he explains his ideas with expressions like sound surfaces, sound objects and sound interweaving.7 This aspect is even more important as we examine the role of text in this piece, which was already closely examined in analysis Paul Op de Coul carried out in his article Sprachkomposition bei Ligeti: "Lux aeterna ".8 Ligeti's Lux aeterna is an extremely 5 György Ligeti, ["Über Form in der Neuen Musik",] Darmstädter Beiträge zur Neuen Musik 10 (1966): 28-29. 6 Ibid., 25. 7 Ligeti, ["Über Form in der Neuen Musik",] 29. 8 Paul Op de Coul, "Sprachkomposition bei Ligeti: "Lux aeterna". Neben einigen Randbemerkungen zu den Begriffen Sprach-und Lautkomposition", in Über Musik und Sprache: Sieben Versuche zum neueren Vokalmusk, ed. Rudolph Stephan (Mainz: Schott, 1974): 59-69. syllabic piece. To each tone height composer assigned its own syllable. In direct repeating of particular tone height the syllable remains the same, while almost all of the tones - and also all of the syllables - are separated with pauses. Consequently each syllable is separated from its textual context. Ligeti also asks for as soft entries as possible and also asks singers to omit pronounciation of "s" in the word "eis" and of "t" in the word "luceat". It seems very clear that Ligeti is mostly interested in articulation of vowels - in Latin [u], [u], [e], [e], [a], [a], [l], [i], [o], [o] and [y]. As Paul Op de Coul already suggested, this heavily influences sound-colour.9 Vowels shaping is in general an important part of singing technique, as each vowel occupies certain area within frequency spectrum - formant area. Ligeti's attitude towards text, especially towards syllable and vowels, is a sign of his understanding of vowels as parameters for very exact and acoustically accurate defining of sound-colour or timbre for each tone height. Lux aeterna, 10-minute piece composed by Tadeja Vulc, can be easily classified within a genre of shorter introductory piece in symphonic concert. But we can take a risk and try to find some deeper layers of this piece's genre identity. As we are face-ing genre problem, we should deal with it through genre-criterions, beginning with form. This is a one-movement piece, which contains two minor divisions, and its ongoing musical flow is almost constantly sustained with tone centre - tone e. Tone e - in function of a pedal point - is regularly present, and this harmonic homogeneity is also achieved with reappearances of starting chord (example 1), which seems to be designed in quartal relationship, again gravitating to tone e. The most obvious caesura appears in bar 65. Until then music is defined by harmony and a kind of Klangfarbenmelodie, yet after this caesura the defining elements are rhythmical structures (see example 2). / Example 1: Reappearing Harmonic Structure Example 2: Distinctive Rhythmic Structures (Bar 89). The third section of Vulc's Lux aeterna begins after bar 112; after harmony-oriented first section and rhythmical second, a synthesis of the two appear in the last formal section. Here the harmonic structures from beginning and rhythmic element of the middle part reappear, but in this last part of a composition there is also a strong melodic 9 Ibid., 64. element - it begins with separate melodic fragments, which unfold into a recitative-like flute solo melody, designed with additive technique, centred around central tone d (example 3). Apart from the same title, there is another connection between Ligeti's and Vulc's pieces. In this last section of Lux aeterna by Tadeja Vulc tone-centred harmony is occasionally replaced with very obvious micro-canon, Gyorgy Ligeti's invention. Example 3: Additively Built Melodic Line (Bars 171-173). This is also a moment within the piece, when use of text and performance space -important genre factors - start to define character and effect of the piece. Lights in the concert hall are turned off and the only light comes from lights on musicians' stands. Musicians gradually stop playing, one by one turning their lights off and start whispering »Lux aeterna, luceat eis, Domine« in an aleatoric manner. At the end, as they all stop playing, there is a complete darkness and at this moment - as composer instructs - a small light is lit somewhere in the hall, symbolizing the eternal light. In this conclusion the composer changes the anticipated instrumentation, as she reduces symphonic orchestra to a soft tremolo of violins and a melodic line of flute, along with unexpected whispering. Using light and darkness she also individually redefines the performance location. We can understand the little light from the very end of her piece as a symbolic entrance of the sacred in the concert hall, i.e. in domain of musically profane. Light, an association to candle, could act as an allusion to some of religious ceremonies or rites of Jewish-Christian tradition, on lighting a candle on Jewish Shabbat, candles in Catholic liturgy or Orthodox prayers. That said, we can interpret this somehow differently. The composer obviously intervened in the performance space - she reduced it to contrasting relationship between light and darkness. Complete darkness at the end of the piece results in a situation, in which most of that, by which we recognise concert hall as a characteristic public space, is removed from visual field. Darkness and light are arguably the most basic and all-present dimension of every space and in this way concert hall becomes a universal environment of distributing music. Composer's approach to text offers further interpretations in a similar direction. Orchestra musicians whisper only first five words of the Lux aeterna comunio and there are at least two possible reasons for this decision. The first is utterly pragmatic -musicians whisper these words in darkness, and have to memorise the text in advance, which is more convenient with only smaller portion of the text. Second explanation is more of a compositional nature. Tadeja Vulc - much like Ligeti - obviously avoided presenting the text with its complete semantic value. Ligeti used the whole text as a substratum for different timbral combinations, arising from vowels' formant areas, but Tadeja Vulc exploited a different side of human's voice. Whispering produces sonic phenomena, acoustically defined as noise. This noise is even better defined when consonants are being whispered. At the end of Vulc's Lux aeterna we as listeners therefore perceive noise; this may be the reason why the composer emphasized consonants -first five words of Lux aeterna offer enough of these. Discussing music in Slovenian language, we often hear explicit claims that music phenomenon is defined by three universal foundations without which music cannot exist as such: melody, rhythm and harmony.10 Structuring of Tadeja Vulc's Lux aeterna actually underpins such notion of these three basic musical-theoretical strata, yet the particularly interesting use of the text reveals another possibility of interpreting musical universality. If we imagine understanding, what is ever-existing, universal in a phenomenon of music, this would more likely be sound - in a sense of its timbral quality, sound composed of periodic vibration - and noise - sound composed of nonperiodic vibrations. This universality connects both Lux aeternas by two composers. Ligeti's work reveals sacred text being understood as a substratum of sound - i.e. timbral - nuances, while Vulc's piece presents the same text through subtly articulated noise. They both incorporate a sacred text in a profane context, yet this does not trigger polarisation between the two principles; in case of Tadeja Vulc's work a profane performance context and a ritualistic, sacred elements converge into universality of the performance space. While examining pieces by Gyorgy Ligeti and Tadeja Vulc, we also observed the latest steps of process which musicology describes as a disintegration of genre system and an individualisation of musical work. The analyses of two pieces suggest a notion, that total individualisation of musical work from genre boundaries - paradoxically, but still - often leads the composer into creating within a field of musical universal. POVZETEK Dve skladbi z naslovom Lux aeterna, deli Gyor-gya Ligetija in Tadeje Vulc, nas postavljata pred vprašanja o zbliževanju sakralnega in profanega v času individualizacije glasbenega dela ter rahljanja zvrstnih norm. Ko sledimo Ligetijevim zamislim o pomenu vektorskih lastnosti posameznih delov skladbe za delo kot celoto ter o idejah o pomenu zgodovinskega referenčnega polja, se pojavljajo tudi jasne povezave s kompozicijskimi idejami in tehnikami v njegovi skladbi Lux aeterna za šestnajst glasov. Obliko te skladbe določajo teksturni kontrasti med mikropolifonijo in ho-mofonijo. Skladba je večinoma polifona z izjemo dveh homofonih blokov, te teksturne premene pa ustvarjajo asociacije znotraj skladbe same in hkrati sprožajo povezave s tradicionalnim zborovskim skladanjem. Za naše dileme o zbliževanju sakralnega in profanega pa je pomembnejši Ligetijev pristop k besedilu - na različne načine je skladatelj v izgovorjavi besedila močno poudaril vokale in s tem njihova značilna formantna območja, torej območja v frekvenčnem spektru. Skladatelj je besedilo torej uporabil kot substrat natančno definiranih zvenov, zvočnih barv. Lux aeterna Tadeje Vulc je delo za simfonični orkester, torej delo iz profanega zvrstnega območja, ki pa nosi naslov komunia rekviema. Vpetost sakralnega v profano gre še nekoliko dlje, saj glasbeniki tudi šepetajo začetne besede komunia. Šepetanje -drugače kot petje, kjer zvok nastaja predvsem iz periodičnih nihanj - najbolj poudarja konsonante, ko pa te šepetamo, nastane zvočni rezultat, ki ga akustično najbolje definiramo kot šum, torej zvok, ki nastaja predvsem iz neperiodičnih nihanj. Kljub temu, da sta oba skladatelja v profan zvrstni kontekst vpeljala sakralno besedilo, to ni sprožilo bistvenih polarizacij. S svojo glasbeno obravnavo besedila sta skladatelja bolj kot k profanemu ali sakralnemu težila k dvema univerzalnima glasbenima fenomenoma - zvenu in šumu. 10 e.g. Črt Sojar Voglar, [without a title,] in Skladateljske sledi po letu 1900, ed. Črt Sojar Voglar (Ljubljana: DSS, 2005), 224-225. UDK 783(086.72)(091) DOI: 10.4312/mz.50.2.279-291 Drago Kunej Znanstvenoraziskovalni center Slovenske akademije znanosti in umetnosti, Glasbenonarodopisni inštitut, Ljubljana Research Centre of the Slovenian Academy of Science and Arts, Institute of Ethnomusicology, Ljubljana Gramofon v službi sakralne glasbe? Gramophone Serving Sacred Music? Prejeto: 15. februar 2013 Sprejeto: 27. marec 2013 Ključne besede: gramofonske plošče, sakralna glasba, Zbor stolne cerkve v Ljubljani, pevci Adrija, popularizacija in komercializacija glasbe IZVLEČEK Kot večina aktivnosti v gramofonski industriji je bilo verjetno tudi snemanje plošč s sakralno vsebino povezano predvsem s trgovanjem in dobičkom. Na primeru gramofonskih plošč Zbora stolne cerkve v Ljubljani in pevcev Adrija iz ZDA vidimo, da je bil tržni uspeh odvisen od številnih dejavnikov. Če primerjamo priljubljenost plošč pri kupcih za oba zbora in število danes ohranjenih posnetkov, lahko sklepamo, da se plošče s sakralno vsebino niso tako dobro tržile kot tiste s posvetno. Uvod Received: 15th February 2013 Accepted: 27th March 2013 Keywords: gramophone records, sacred music, Ljubljana Cathedral Choir, Adria Singers, popularization and commercialization of music Abstract Like most activities in the gramophone industry, recording sacred music appears to have been linked with trade and profit. Through the example of gramophone records released by the Ljubljana Cathedral Choir and the Adria Singers from the USA, one can see that favourable market results depended upon a number of factors. By comparing the popularity of recordings of these two choirs, with the number of surviving records, one can conclude that the sale of sacred music lagged behind that of secular. Različni komercialni razlogi so botrovali pojavu in razvoju glasbene industrije vse od začetka, saj zgodnje obdobje razvoja zapisovanja in predvajanja zvoka ter s tem povezane glasbene industrije zaznamuje predvsem boj za patente in prevlado na trgu. Že Thomas Alva Edison, ki mu je kot prvemu uspelo posneti in nato zapisani zvok tudi predvajati, je svojo napravo, fonograf, leta 1878 takoj patentiral in ta izum s tem zaščitil. Zato se je moral Emile Berliner pri izdelavi gramofona okoli leta 1888 lotiti zapisa zvoka drugače in se tako izogniti obstoječim patentom. Namesto valjev, na katere so s fonografom zapisovali zvok, se je odločil za ploščo kot nosilni medij in uporabil bočni (lateralni) zapis zvoka v brazdi, ki je bil drugačen od globinskega (vertikalnega) zapisa pri Edisonovih fonografih. Obe pomembni značilnosti, ki ločita gramofon od fonografa, sta kasneje odločilno pripomogli k prevladi gramofonov in plošč na tržišču. Gramofoni so bili namreč zaradi drugačnega zapisa zvoka veliko preprostejši kot fono-grafi in so jih lahko zato izdelovali in prodajali za nižjo ceno; poleg tega je bilo tiskanje in razmnoževanje plošč veliko cenejše od razmnoževanja valjev. Berliner je kmalu prodal licenco procesa masovne izdelave plošč tudi drugim podjetjem, ki so komercialno izdelovale plošče in s tem se je lahko začela množična proizvodnja plošč in razvila glasbena industrija. Med podjetji se je začel konkurenčni boj za tržišče, kar je pogosto povzročilo propad manjših podjetij ali pa njihov prehod pod okrilje večjih koncernov. Alfons Oblak je bil verjetno prvi na Slovenskem, ki je omenil možnost uporabe nove tehnologije snemanja in predvajanja zvoka v sakralne namene. Leta 1890 je objavil v časopisu Dolenjske novice podlistek, v katerem je na kratko opisal delovanje in zgodovino dotedanjih naprav za zapisovanje zvoka in dodal razmišljanje o velikih možnostih, ki jih prinaša nova tehnična pridobitev. Med naštevanjem različnih vlog, ki naj bi jih snemalne naprave v bodoče prevzele, je med drugim zapisal: »Le vprašanje časa je še, da bode fonograf otroke govoriti in moliti učil; ko bode v oddaljenih podružnicah fonograf na prižnici g. duhovnika, na koru pa organista in pevce namestoval ...« (Oblak 1890: 139). Zelo zgodnje podatke o posnetkih sakralne glasbe zasledimo v časopisu Cerkveni glasbenik, kjer je bil leta 1905 objavljen članek z naslovom »Gramofon v službi cerkvene glasbe«. V njem so predstavljene gramofonske plošče, ki jih je podjetje Gramophone Company posnelo »ob znameniti papeževi maši o priliki gregorjanskega kongresa l. 1904 /.../. Ob isti priliki so se sprejele na gramofon tudi še nekatere druge koralne melodije« (Cerkveni glasbenik 1905: 58, 59). Poleg predstavitve »suhih dejstev« (posnetega repertoarja, števila in cene plošč idr.) se v članku zastavlja tudi vprašanje, kakšno korist za razvoj in razširjanje gregorjanskega petja lahko pričakujemo od »te novodobne pridobitve«. V odgovoru pravi: »Kritike si jako nasprotujejo; nekateri se izražajo silno ugodno, drugi prav nasprotno«. Nato navede nekaj različnih mnenj ter zaključi: »iz dosedanje kritike si pač ne moremo še napraviti trdne sodbe« (Cerkveni glasbenik 1905: 59). Žal poznejših člankov, ki bi odgovorili na zastavljeno vprašanje, ni bilo mogoče najti, kakor tudi ne podrobnejših razmišljanj in razprav o vlogi in pomenu slovenskih sakralnih posnetkih na starih gramofonskih ploščah. Čeprav so številni slovenski izvajalci v svoj repertoar gramofonskih posnetkov pogosto uvrstili posamezne sakralne skladbe, je o teh posnetkih malo znanega. Zato se bo prispevek osredotočil na nekatere posnetke sakralne glasbe na starih gramofonskih ploščah z 78 obrati na minuto (o/min), namenjene slovenskim poslušalcem, in poskušal ugotoviti, kakšen odziv in tržni uspeh so imeli pri poslušalcih. Pri tem bo poudarjen vidik popularizacije in komercializacije sakralne glasbe s pomočjo gramofonskih plošč in razvijajoče glasbene industrije. Je bil res gramofon v službi cerkvene glasbe ali je bila morda cerkvena glasba v službi gramofona? Kot primer so v članku izpostavljeni posnetki Zbora stolne cerkve v Ljubljani in posnetki pevcev cerkvenega zbora Adrija iz Chicaga (ZDA), saj so nastali v dveh različnih časovnih obdobjih in v različnih okoljih, prav tako pa so doživeli precej drugačno pozornost občinstva. Posnetki Zbora stolne cerkve v Ljubljani Posnetki Zbora stolne cerkve v Ljubljani ne sodijo le med najstarejše gramofonske posnetke sakralne glasbe pri nas, ampak tudi med najstarejše slovenske posnetke na sploh. Nastali so leta 1908 v Ljubljani, ko je podjetje Gramophone Company prvič snemalo pri nas. Gramophone Co. z glavnim sedežem v Angliji in s številnimi podružnicami v različnih evropskih državah je bilo takrat vodilno gramofonsko podjetje v Evropi, ki je zelo pogosto snemalo v številnih krajih sveta. V prvih letih 20. stoletja je imelo monopol nad prodajo gramofonov in plošč v Evropi (prim. Gronow in Englund 2007: 282), s svojim modelom snemanja in delovanja pa je bilo vzor tudi številnim drugim gramofonskim podjetjem kasnejšega obdobja. Leta 1907 se je odločilo, da bo sistematično vstopilo na tržišče južnega dela Avstro-Ogrske in Balkana, in je začelo pogosteje snemati v pomembnih regijskih središčih tega geografskega območja. Njihovo prvo snemanje v Ljubljani je pomenilo začetek novega obdobja snemanja in trženja plošč s slovenskim gradivom, saj so temu vzoru kmalu sledila tudi druga gramofonska podjetja, ki so na različnih ploščah in labelah1 slovenskemu tržišču ponudila posnetke izbranih slovenskih izvajalcev (več gl. Kunej 2014a). Posnetke za Gramophone Co. je v Ljubljani leta 1908 naredil njihov snemalec Max Hampe, ki je po številkah matric sodeč začel svoje snemalno potovanje v Budimpešti, nato pa nadaljeval v Zagrebu, Sarajevu, Ljubljani, Shkoderju (Albanija) in Črni gori. Kdaj točno je snemal v Ljubljani, ni znano, vsekakor pa so posnetki nastali pred poletjem 1908, ko so se prvič pojavili v časopisnih oglasih. Iz različnih virov, predvsem iz popisa posnetkov Maxa Hampeja, ki ga je objavil Alan Kelly (1995), oglasov v slovenskih časopisih in ohranjenih prodajnih katalogov, lahko ugotovimo, da je leta 1908 v Ljubljani za podjetje Gramophone Co. snemalo sedem izvajalcev: »Zbor Glasbene Matice v Ljubljani pod vodstvom M. Hubada«, »Slovenska kmetska godba (harmonika)«, »Oddelek zbora Glasbene Matice v Ljubljani pod vodstvom M. Hubada«, »Moški kvartet Glasbene Matice (Matjan, Stegnar, Završan, Šebe-nik)«, »Ženski dvospev«, »Zbor stolne cerkve v Ljubljani pod vodstvom Antona Foerster-ja, s harmonijem«, »Godba c. in kr. pešpolka št. 27 - Ljubljana, kapelnik Teodor Christoph (Godba Gramophon-orchestra iz Ljubljane)« in »Josip Povhe, komik slovenskega gledališča v Ljubljani, s spremljanjem orkestra.« Zbor stolne cerkve v Ljubljani je naredil šest posnetkov, na katerih je bilo predstavljeno 12 pesmi (gl. tabelo 1). Iz številk matric je razvidno, da sta bili najpogosteje dve pesmi (v enem primeru celo tri) združeni v posamezen posnetek, pripadajoče kataloške številke pa dokazujejo, da so bili vsi posnetki natisnjeni na ploščah (velikosti 10 inč), uvrščeni v prodajni katalog (Zonophone) in s tem tudi resnično dostopni na tržišču (več o povednosti številk matric in kataloških oznak gl. Kunej 2014a, 2014b). 1 V povezavi z gramofonskimi ploščami angleški izraz label označuje blagovno znamko ali nalepko s podatki v sredini plošče. V članku je zato uporabljena poslovenjena oblika angleškega izraza, ki poskuša ohraniti širši pomen izvirnika. Št. matrice Kataloška št. Naslov 4527r X-104660 a) Hitite, kristjani, starocerkvena (upravil A. Foerster) b) Kar je že dolgo želel svet (zložil A. Foerster) c) Oj dete rojeno nam, staroslovenska (upravil A. Foerster) 4528r X-104661 Ave Maria, z gosli in harmonijem iz opere Gorenjski slavček (zložil A. Foerster) 4529r X-104662 a) Pet ran Jezusovih (zložil Gregor Rihar) b) Večno srečno, staroslovenska (upravil A. Foerster) 4530r X-104663 a) K sv. Rešnjemu Telesu b) Tebe, Jezus ne pustim (zložil A. Foerster) 4531r X-104664 a) Lilija k Jezusu (zložil A. Foerster) b) Cvetlice ve (zložil Blaž Potočnik) 4532r X-104665 a) Molitev (zložil F. Gerbič) b) Čast Bogu (zložil A. Foerster) Tabela 1: Seznam posnetkov Zbora stolne cerkve v Ljubljani iz leta 1908. Naslovi posnetkov so praviloma napisani tako, kot so bili zapisani v dosegljivih virih; popravljene so le očitne tipkarske napake in poenoteni so zapisi iz različnih virov. Zbor stolne cerkve v Ljubljani je imel za slovenski prostor izjemen formalni in simbolni pomen, saj je bila glasbena podoba bogoslužja v osrednji cerkvi škofije zgled in spodbuda tudi drugim. Poleg tega je imel zbor kot ustanova že večstoletno tradicijo neprekinjenega delovanja in je v vsem tem času po ambicijah, materialnih možnostih in dosežkih presegal vse druge podobne glasbene ustanova pri nas. V času snemanja ga je vodil Anton Foerster, ki je bil na čelu zbora od leta 1868 do 1908, ko je odšel v pokoj. V stolnici je uvedel pravo liturgično petje, dvignil petje in glasbo na izredno raven in kljub nasprotovanju vplival na preureditev cerkvene glasbe. Z veliko glasbeno razgledanostjo in izobrazbo, po drugi strani pa z globoko vernostjo in pobožnostjo, je odločilno pripomogel k vključitvi stolnega zbora v evropske cerkvenoglasbene tokove (prim. Nagode 2005: 95, 96). Zato ni nenavadno, da je podjetje Gramophone Co. med prve izvajalce, ki jih je v Ljubljani posnela, vključilo tudi stolni zbor. Kdo je za to snemanje izbral izvajalce in repertoar za posnetke, ni znano. Iz različnih virov in podatkov iz tujine lahko sklepamo, da je imelo podjetje Gramophone Co. jasno zastavljeno snemalno in tržno politiko in je s pomočjo regionalnih podružnic skrbelo za lokalna snemanja in trženje posnetkov. Vsaka podružnica je bila odgovorna za komercialne aktivnosti na svojem območju in praviloma je tudi samostojno določala, kateri izvajalci in repertoar so primerni za snemanje, da se bodo plošče dobro prodajale. Na začetku gramofonske industrije, kamor lahko uvrščamo tudi obdobje snemanja v Ljubljani, pa je bilo za gramofonska podjetja zelo donosna in pomembna tudi prodaja predvajalnih aparatov; gramofone je bilo namreč veliko lažje prodajati, če so kupci na njih lahko poslušali tudi lokalno priljubljene in atraktivne posnetke. Zato lahko sklepamo, da so gramofonska podjetja želela posneti predvsem uveljavljene in lokalno prepoznavne izvajalce z deli iz njihovega koncertnega repertoarja (prim. Gro-now in Englund 2007: 285; Pennanen 2007). Podobno je morda veljalo tudi za izbor posnetkov Zbora stolne cerkve v Ljubljani, ki ga je na podlagi napotkov gramofonskega podjetja verjetno predlagal takratni vodja zbora Anton Foerster. Foerster je bil tudi avtor ali avtor priredb večine posnetih pesmi. Plošče s posnetki iz Ljubljane so bile kmalu dostopne tudi pri nas, kar dokazujejo časopisni oglasi v slovenskih časopisih od julija 1908 naprej (prim. Slovenski narod 1908). V nekaterih oglasih je naveden celoten spisek posnetkov, zato lahko vidimo tudi posneti repertoar Zbora stolne cerkve v Ljubljani, ki so ga prodajalci ponujali na slovenskem tržišču. Podjetje Gramophone Co. je vse posnetke iz Ljubljane tržilo z labelo Zonophone, na kateri je ponujalo predvsem plošče nižjega cenovnega razreda. Posnetki pevcev Adrija »To pot se mi, ameriški Slovenci, lahko potrkamo na prsa, da smo napravili nekaj pomembnega, česar ni napravil do sedaj še noben drug narod« (Račič 1928: 265). S temi uvodnimi besedami začne prof. Ivan Račič, vodja cerkvenega pevskega zbora Adrija iz Chicaga, predstavitev posnetkov sakralne vsebine na gramofonskih ploščah pevcev Adrija. Zaradi novosti, ki so jih vnesli v zasnovo in izvedbo snemanja, sodijo ti posnetki med posebnosti takratnih gramofonskih plošč. Posnetki so nastali v Združenih državah Amerike v obdobju med obema vojnama, ko je prodaja plošč z glasbo priseljencev za gramofonska podjetja pomenila pomembno tržno priložnost. V ZDA je bilo namreč veliko priseljencev, predvsem iz Evrope, in glasbena industrija je v njih videla velik potencial za nakup plošč, zato je začela snemati t. i. »etnično glasbo« (angl. ethnic music) oz. glasbo za »tuje govoreče« (angl. foreign-speaking) kupce. Tako so npr. pri podjetju Victor leta 1928 poudarjali, da so »eni najboljših kupcev gramofonskih plošč priseljenci« (Gronow 1982: 34). Slovenski priseljenci v ZDA so podobno kot izseljenci drugih narodov očitno predstavljali dobro tržišče, saj že samo iz pregleda tistega razdelka v diskografiji Ethnic Music on Records, ki predstavlja popis slovenskih posnetkov, nastalih v ZDA do leta 1942 (Spottswood 1990: 1021-1043), ugotovimo, da je v njem skoraj 600 posnetkov slovenske glasbe, ki jih izvajajo številni slovenski izvajalci. Med posnetki so predvsem različne priredbe ljudskih pesmi in izvedbe ljudskih plesnih viž, pa tudi druge glasbene zvrsti. Pevski zbor Adrija, ki je deloval pri cerkvi sv. Štefana v Chicagu, je bil v tistem času eden najboljših cerkvenih slovenskih zborov v ZDA. Vodil ga je Ivan Račič, profesor glasbe, ki je bil organist v tej cerkvi, poleg tega pa še zasebno poučeval glasbo. Že kot dijak se je v Ljubljani glasbeno izobraževal, med drugim pri Hugolinu Sattnerju in v Glasbeni matici, po maturi pa je odšel v Chicago, nadaljeval s študijem glasbe, diplomiral in se glasbi povsem posvetil. Pevski zbor Adrija je redno prepeval v cerkvi, imeli pa so tudi številne nastope in samostojne koncerte. Bili so prvi zbor iz Chicaga, ki je sodeloval na radiu (prim. Račič 1928a: 265; The Adrija ... 1934). Zato ni nenavadno, da so začel snemati tudi gramofonske plošče. Posnetki, ki se jih je v treh letih snemanja (1927-1929) nabralo okoli 70, so bili izdani na labelah Victor, Columbia in Electra, vsebujejo humoristično, sentimentalno, religiozno idr. tematiko, pogosto povezano z ljudskim izročilom in predstavljeno v govorno-glasbeni obliki. Pri snemanju so pogosto sodelovali z drugimi slovenskimi izvajalci, npr. s Hoyer triom, Račič-Foysovim orkestrom idr. Prvo ploščo s sakralno vsebino so pevci Adrija posneli že na svojem prvem snemanju: 15. novembra 1927 so v studio podjetja Victor v Chicagu posneli devet posnetkov različne vsebine, med katerimi je bil tudi posnetek v dveh delih z naslovom »Romanje k Materi Božji« (v angleškem prevodu Slovenian Pilgrims). Iz arhivskih podatkov podjetja Victor lahko razberemo, da je na posnetku sodelovalo šest pevcev (1 sopran, 2 alta, 2 tenorja in 1 bas), kot govorec pa »pater Odilo« (Discography ... 2014). Posebnost plošče je ravno v sodelovanju pevcev in patra Odila Zakrajška, ki je kot »izboren ljudski cerkveni govorec, ki mu je na Slovenskem bržčas težko katerega postaviti ob stran« iz posnete vsebine »znal ustvariti močno, včasih naravnost umetniško celoto« (Kuret 1930: 86, 87). Pater Odilo je namreč spoznal, da je lahko gramofonska plošča »izvrstno moderno sredstvo,« ki opravlja tudi »idealno misijonsko delo /.../ in uspešno služi dobremu namenu« (Račič 1928a: 265). Tega ni spoznal »le kot prvi Slovenec« ampak kot »prvi misijonar v Ameriki sploh. Njegove ideje se oprijemajo sedaj Hrvati, Slovaki, Nemci Italijani ...« (Kuret 1930: 87). Tako je bila to prva plošča, v kateri je nastopil duhovnik z govorom sakralne vsebine in kjer je bil poustvarjen resničen nabožni dogodek. Plošča je bila pri poslušalcih zelo dobro sprejeta, zato so se po nasvetu slovenskih duhovnikov v ZDA odločili, da bodo posneli še več podobnih plošč. Vendar tokrat v samozaložbi časopisa Ave Maria, »nabožno-poučnega mesečnika«, ki so ga izdajali frančiškani v ZDA. Pater Odilo in prof. Račič sta zasnovala še šest dvostranskih velikih plošč (premera 12 inč), ki skupaj tvorijo zaokroženo celoto in predstavljajo »najlepše in najbolj priljubljene slovenske cerkvene pesmi in najbolj značilne cerkvene obrede in slovesnosti« (Račič 1928a: 266). Plošče so bile posnete zgodaj jeseni leta 1928 v Chi-cagu in so kmalu za tem izšle na labeli Electra. Seznam vseh omenjenih posnetkov, ki je urejen po številkah matric, je prikazan v tabeli 2. Št. matrice Kataloška št. Labela Naslov CVE 40878 68924 Victor Romanje k Materi Božji - Prvi del (Slovenian Pilgrims - Part One) CVE 40879 68924 Victor Romanje k Materi Božji - Drugi del (Slovenian Pilgrims - Part Two) 5274 5274 Electra Pri božičnem drevescu 5275 5275 Electra Šopek božičnih pesmi (Christmas songs) 5276 5276 Electra Slovenska polnočnica - Prvi del (Christmas Eve in Church - Part One) 5277 5277 Electra Slovenska polnočnica - Drugi del (Christmas Eve in Church - Part Two) 5278 5278 Electra Našim najdražjim (All Souls' Day-Part Two) 5279 5279 Electra Memento mori (All Souls' Day-Part One) 5320 5320 Electra Vstajenje (Easter Morning In Church-Part One) 5321 5321 Electra Velika noč (Easter Morning In Church-Part Two) 5322 5322 Electra Šmarnice (May Devotion) 5323 5323 Electra Slovesne litanije Matere Božje (Solemn Litany of the B. V. Mary) 5324 5324 Electra Poroka v cerkvi (Wedding in Church) 5325 5325 Electra Nova Maša (First Holy Mass) Tabela 2: Seznam posnetkov pevcev Adrija s sakralno vsebino. Slika 1: Labela ene od plošč s sakralno vsebino pevcev Adrija, ki je izšla v samozaložbi časopisa Ave Maria (GNIDZGP). Prvi odzivi na slovenske posnetke s sakralno vsebino Nenavadno je, da prvi slovenski posnetki na gramofonskih ploščah iz leta 1908 razen tržnih oglasov v dnevnem časopisju niso imeli večjega odmeva v medijih in med izvajalci. V ohranjenih dopisih, kronikah, arhivskem gradivu in različnem časopisju tistega časa skorajda ne najdemo podatkov o snemanju plošč, čeprav je bil verjetno to prvi takšen dogodek pri nas. Vendar to ne velja le za Zbor stolne cerkve, ampak tudi za vse ostale izvajalce, ki so snemali v tem obdobju (prim. Kovačič 2014: 81; Klobčar 2014: 143). Povsem drugače je s ploščami pevcev Adrija, ki jih je v samozaložbi izdal časopis Ave Maria. Prof. Račič, vodja zbora, jih je izčrpno opisal v več zaporednih številkah časopisa, od septembra 1928 naprej, Niko Kuret pa jih je v časopisu Slovenec celovito predstavil v članku »Plošče P. Odila«, ki je bil leta 1930 ponatisnjen v AveMarii. Posnetki so bile navedeni tudi v številnih časopisnih oglasih v ZDA, kjer so različni prodajalci ponujali slovenske plošče. Zanimivo je, da so posnetke Zbora stolne cerkve v Ljubljani že v prvih oglasih leta 1908 uporabili predvsem v tržne oz. oglaševalske namene. V časopisu Slovenski narod (1908) je pod naslovom »Zonophoni s slovenskimi pesmimi« objavljeno obvestilo, da so pri urarskih mojstrih Francu Zajcu in Milku Krapežu na zalogi plošče »slovenskih skladb in pesmi za zonophone.« V nadaljevanju je naštet izbor posnetkov za vsakega izvajalca posebej, iz česar je razvidno, da so predstavljene plošče podjetja Gramophone Co., ki so bile posnete leta 1908 v Ljubljani. Med izvajalci pa ni navedenega Zbora stolne cerkve iz Ljubljane in njihovega izbora posnetkov, čeprav so tudi ti sodelovali pri snemanju. Očitno avtor oglasa ni želel v liberalnopolitično usmerjenem časopisu ponujati bralcem posnetke sakralne vsebine in jih je kot dober trgovec raje izpustil. Povsem drugače pa je ta trgovec ponudil plošče v časopisu Slovenec. Istega dne kot v Slovenskem narodu je bila tudi v Slovencu (1908) prvič objavljena novica, da se pri urarju Fr. P. Zajcu dobijo plošče s slovenskimi posnetki, pri čemer pa ni navedenih izvajalcev in (izbora) posnete vsebine. Posebej pa je izpostavljeno, da se »dobijo tudi zbori stolne cerkve Ljubljanske s harmonijem«. To ponovno kaže na tržni prijem avtorja oglasa, ki se je tokrat želel prilagoditi katoliško usmerjenim bralcem časopisa. V časopisu Ave Maria je poleg vsebinskih predstavitev plošč pogosto opaziti tudi trženje plošč oz. nagovarjanje bralcev k nakupu: »ta zbirka bo najlepši zaklad za vsako slovensko hišo v Ameriki. Če ste veseli ali pobiti, v sreči ali stiskah, za vsako priliko boste našli v tej zbirki pesem in besedo, ki se bo ravno prilegala vašemu srcu.« (Račič 1928a: 266).; »Kdor hoče imeti pravi spomin na Fathra Odila kot misijonarja, naj si omisli to ploščo« (Račič 1928b: 327); »Največje delo za naše izseljence bomo opravili s tem, če bomo spravili mednje te plošče. Naša društva naj bi jih spravila v roke naših ljudi po Franciji, Belgiji, Holandski, Westfalskem in drugod! A tudi vsaka naša družina doma, ki ima gramofon, naj bi čuvala te plošče kot dragoceno last ...« (Kuret 1930: 87). Večkrat so v člankih Ave Marie omenjene tudi morebitne finančne koristi od prodaje teh plošč. Že v času razmišljanja o snemanju in izdajanju v samozaložbi so menili: »V kolikor je to početje v zvezi z gmotnimi dobičkom, se da urediti tako, da ima korist od tega Ave Maria in vse slovenske župnije v Ameriki. To je gotovo boljše, kakor pa če bi imeli gmotno korist le tujci, židje« (Račič 1928a: 265). Tudi v kasnejših člankih zasledimo omenjanje gmotnega vidika pri izdajanju plošč, kot npr.: »pri naših nabožnih rekordih ne smemo gledati le na gmotno temveč v prvi vrsti na moralno korist« (Račič 1928b: 327). Poseben tovrsten poudarek je v sklepnem delu predstavljanja plošč, kjer v zadnjem članku avtor zaključi: »Ponovno opozarjam rojake, naj si omislijo ne samo velikonočno ploščo, temveč vseh šest nabožnih plošč, ki jih je izdala ,Ave Maria'. Podajajo zaokroženo zbirko sicer kratkih, vendar nedopovedljivo lepih cerkvenih nagovorov, nekaj najbolj pomembnih cerkvenih obredov in lepo število najbolj priljubljenih slovenskih cerkvenih pesmi. Ta zbirka je vredna veliko, veliko več, kakor pa v resnici stane in kaj podobnega, saj kolikor je nam znano, do sedaj še ni bilo rekordirano v nobenem drugem jeziku« (Račič 1929: 102). Kakšen je bil odziv kupcev na posnetke Zbora stolne cerkve v Ljubljani ni znano, kakor tudi ni znano, kako so sprejeli plošče drugih izvajalcev s tega snemanja. Lahko pa sklepamo, da posnetki stolnega zbora morda niso šli posebej dobro v prodajo, saj tega zbora na naslednjih snemanjih podjetja Gramophone Co. v Ljubljani ni bilo več. Leta 1909 in 1910 je namreč to podjetje ponovno snemalo v Ljubljani, kjer med izvajalci zasledimo tudi nekatere, ki so snemali že leta 1908: »Slovenska kmetska godba« je z razmeroma velikim repertoarjem sodelovala pri vseh treh snemanjih, različne pevske zasedbe Glasbene matice z obsežnim repertoarjem pri dveh, »Godba Gramophon-orchestra iz Ljubljane« pri dveh, prav tako tudi »Josip Povhé«. Vidimo lahko, da je bil Zbor stolne cerkve v Ljubljani, poleg »anonimnega« ženskega dueta, ki je na prvem snemanju zapel le dve pesmi, edini, ki kasneje ni sodeloval pri ponovnih snemanjih podjetja Gramophone Co. Podobno lahko ugotovimo tudi pri posnetkih podjetja Favorite, ki je v Ljubljani snemalo leta 1910 in 1911. Na teh snemanjih so sodelovali predvsem tisti slovenski izvajalci, ki so veliko posneli tudi že za Gramophone Co., npr. »Slovenska kmetska godba«, »Kvartet pevcev Glasbene matice« in gledališki igralec »Anton Danilo«, ki je leta 1911 za Gramohone Co. posnel razmeroma obsežen repertoar šaljivih prizorov. Vendar pa snemanje Zbora stolne cerkve v Ljubljani za Gramophone Co. leta 1908 vseeno ni bilo edino snemanje za gramofonske plošče. Spomladi leta 1910 namreč v Slovencu zasledimo oglas, ki z naslovom »Najnovejši posnetek slovenskih pesmi« predstavlja obsežen repertoar plošč na labeli Jumbo, kjer je poleg posnetkov »Kvarteta Glasbene matice«, »Antona Danila« in nekaj tujih izvajalcev tudi šest plošč oz. dvanajst posnetkov Zbora stolne cerkve v Ljubljani. Zbor se je očitno kljub zamenjavi umetniškega vodje odločil za ponovno snemanje gramofonskih plošč, o katerih pa je še zelo malo znanega. Dobro pa je znan zgodnji odziv kupcev na plošče pevcev Adrija. Že njihova prva plošča, posneta leta 1927 za podjetje Victor, je bila pri poslušalcih izredno dobro sprejeta. Imela je »tak uspeh, kakor še nobeden slovenski rekord do sedaj. /.../ Rojaki so pridno segali po teh novih rekordih [vseh posnetkih pevcev Adrija za podjetje Victor leta 1927, op. a.], vendar za ,Romanje' so se dobesedno tepli; vsem trgovcem je kar naenkrat pošla zaloga« (Račič 1928a: 265). Zato so se tudi odločili, da s podobnimi posnetki nadaljujejo in so v »samozaložbi« izdali še šest plošč, ki so prav tako doživele dober odziv pri poslušalcih in velik prodajni uspeh. O tem poroča že Račič v enem od svojih člankov, kjer je predstavljal posamezne plošče: »Nameraval sem nekoliko opisati tudi rekord ,Slovenska polnočnica', pa sem ravnokar prejel pismo od upravitelja Ave Marie, da so morali naročiti drugo veliko zalogo tega rekorda. Če je tako, potem je vsako pisanje nepotrebno« (Račič 1928c: 360). Sklep Danes plošče Zbora stolne cerkve v Ljubljani zelo težko dobimo. V Digitalni zbirki gramofonskih plošč (GNI DZGP) na Glasbenonarodopisnem inštitutu ZRC SAZU, ki je nastala na podlagi raziskovanja in zbiranja gradiva s sodelovanjem domačih in tujih ustanov ter zasebnikov v okviru projekta Zvočno gradivo gramofonskih plošč kot vir etnomuzikoloških in folklorističnih raziskav, in obsega nad 2600 evidentiranih disko-grafskih zapisov s številnimi metapodatkovnimi opisi, okoli 1200 zvočnih zapisov in skoraj 3000 enot slikovnega gradiva, nimamo niti enega od njihovih posnetkov ali kopije label s plošč. Imamo pa kar nekaj posnetkov in slikovnega gradiva s plošč Slovenske kmečke godbe in različnih pevskih zasedb Glasbene matice, nekatere celo v več izvodih in različnih ponatisih. Iz izkušenj raziskovalcev zgodovinskih zvočnih nosilcev in zbiralcev gramofonskih plošč lahko predvidevamo, da je tiste plošče, ki so se nekdaj bolje prodajale in so bile zato tudi bolj razširjene med ljudmi, danes lažje najti (prim. Gronow 2014). Zato bi lahko zaključili, da za posnetke Zbora stolne cerkve v Ljubljani ni bilo velikega povpraševanja, saj nismo našli ohranjene niti ene njihove plošče; ne s snemanja v Ljubljani leta 1908, kakor tudi ne s snemanja za labelo Jumbo. Drugače pa je s sakralnimi posnetki pevcev Adrija, ki so lažje dostopni. V zbirki GNI DZGP imamo kopije številnih plošč pevcev Adrija, med njimi tudi vse naštete posnetke s sakralno vsebino; tako s plošče podjetja Victor, kakor tudi z vseh plošč labele Electra iz samozaložbe. Plošče imajo tudi nekateri zbiratelji plošč, predvsem v ZDA. Čeprav je razumljivo, da je več ohranjenih plošč iz kasnejšega obdobja snemanja, ko je bila gramofonska industrija v razcvetu (še posebej v ZDA med obema vojnama), pa so se nekatere plošče s snemanja v Ljubljani leta 1908 vseeno ohranile; predvsem posnetki »Slovenske kmetske godbe« in pevskih zasedb Glasbene matice. Nekateri posnetki teh izvajalcev so v kasnejših letih doživeli tudi ponatise in izdaje na nekaterih drugih labelah, tudi v ZDA, kar lahko potrjuje priljubljenost posnetkov med kupci in njihovo tržno uspešnost. Za plošče Zbora stolne cerkve v Ljubljani podatkov o ponatisih ali morebitnih izdajah na drugih labelah ni bilo mogoče zaslediti, medtem ko npr. za ploščo podjetja Victor »Romanje k Materi Božji« vemo, da je bila ponatisnjena tudi v Evropi. Uvrščena je bila v prodajni katalog za Centralno Evropo podjetja Gramophone Co., ki je s podjetjem Victor pogosto izmenjevala gradivo, in celo pod različnimi kataloškimi oznakami (npr. 2-079254 in 2-079255, AN 218) (Kelly 2009). Kot večina aktivnosti v gramofonski industriji je bilo verjetno tudi snemanje plošč s sakralno vsebino povezano predvsem s trgovanjem in dobičkom. Ne glede na morebitni drugačen prvotni namen, ki so ga lahko imeli izvajalci, je o usodi in uspehu posnetkov odločal predvsem trg. Tisti izvajalci, ki so pri poslušalcih dosegli dober odziv, so pogosteje snemali sakralno glasbo tudi pozneje in za različne gramofonska podjetja, tržno uspešni posnetki pa so doživeli več ponatisov ter posledično dosegli tudi večji krog poslušalcev in kupcev. S tem pa se je morebitni cilj, da »plošča ne le zabava« ampak tudi »izredno uspešno služi dobremu namenu« (Račič 1928a: 265), veliko lažje uresničil. Nekateri posnetki s sakralno glasbo na gramofonskih ploščah so se očitno dovolj dobro prodajali, da so takšno glasbo pogosto uvrstili v svoj repertoar snemanja številni slovenski izvajalci; predvsem tiste bolj znane in priljubljene sakralne pesmi, ki so poleg ljudskih pesmi in viž ter popularnih opernih arij širšemu krogu poslušalcev najbolj ugajale in so se zato tudi najbolje prodajale. Tudi gramofonska podjetja so jih, v sklopu drugih posnetkov, pogosto oglaševala, kar potrjuje, da so pričakovala zanimanje kupcev zanje. Navedena primera gramofonskih plošč Zbora stolne cerkve v Ljubljani in pevcev Adrija kažeta, da je tržni uspeh odvisen od številnih dejavnikov. Vsekakor k uspehu pripomoreta ustrezen »tržni pristop« in nagovarjanje kupcev, oz. primerno oglaševanje. Iz primerjave odzivov na posnetke obeh zborov lahko sklepamo, da so plošče pevcev Adrija dosegle veliko večji uspeh in odmevnost med poslušalci kot posnetki stolnega zbora. Poudariti pa je potrebno, da so pevci Adrija izdali tudi veliko posnetkov s posvetno vsebino in so bili pri kupcih gramofonskih plošč zelo znani in prepoznavni izvajalci. K uspehu njihovih sakralnih posnetkov pa je veliko pripomoglo tudi sodelovanje priljubljene patra Odila, kakor tudi posebno tržišče, saj so slovenski izseljenci v ZDA z veseljem kupovali slovenske posnetke, ki so jim ohranjali spomin na domovino. Če pa primerjamo število danes ohranjenih posnetkov sakralne vsebine pevcev Adrija s številom ohranjenih njihovih drugih posnetkov, vidimo, da je plošč s sakralno vsebino manj. Torej bi lahko sklepali, da se te njihove plošče le niso tako dobro tržile kot ostale oz. dosegle takšen izjemen uspeh »kakor še nobeden slovenski rekord do sedaj« (Račič 1928a: 265). Podobno bi lahko posplošili tudi za druge slovenske posnetke na starih gramofonskih ploščah s sakralno vsebino. Na podlagi števila ohranjenih plošč in izkušenj zbiralcev lahko sklepamo, da plošče s sakralno vsebino niso dosegale tolikšne tržne uspešnosti in priljubljenosti pri kupcih kakor tiste s posnetki druge vrste. Zaradi tega so danes številni zgodnji sakralni posnetki tudi težje dostopni in pogosto prezrti, čeprav predstavljajo dragoceno glasbeno dediščino, o kateri še ne vemo prav veliko. Bibliografija Cerkveni glasbenik 1905. Gramofon v službi cerkvene glasbe. Cerkveni glasbenik 28 (7/8): 58-59. Discography... 2014. Discography of American Historical Recordings, s.v. »Victor matrix CVE-40878. Romanje k Materi Božji / Adrija Singers,« http://adp.library.ucsb.edu/ index.php/matrix/detail/800015109/CVE-40878-Romanje_k_Materi_Boji. Obiskano 19. 9. 2014. GNI DZGP. Glasbenonarodopisni inštitut ZRC SAZU, Digitalna zbirka gramofonskih plošč. Gronow, Pekka. 1982. Ethnic recordings: an introduction. V: Richard Spottswood idr. (ur.), Ethnic Recordings in America. A Neglected Heritage. Washington D. C.: Library of Congress, 1-49. Gronow, Pekka. 2014. The world's greatest sound archive: 78 rpm records as a source for musicological research. Traditiones 43 (2): 31-49. DOI: 10.3986/traditio2014430202. Gronow, Pekka in Björn Englund. 2007. Inventing recorded music: the recorded reper- toire in Scandinavia 1899-1925. Popular Music 26 (2): 281-304. Kelly, Alan. 1995. Gramophone Company Matrix Series, Suffix q, r, s. Recorded by Max Hampe, 1904-1916. MAT107. CD-ROM. Sheffield: samozaložba. Kelly, Alan. 2009. His Master's Voice. The Central European Catalogue. (70000 to 79000), 1899 to 1929. CD-ROM. Sheffield: samozaložba. Klobčar, Marija. 2014. »Oj lušno je res na deželi.« Percepcija ljudske pesmi in ljudskega pri izdajah gramofonskih plošč pred drugo svetovno vojno. Traditiones 43 (2): 137-153. DOI: 10.3986/traditio2014430207. Kovačič, Mojca. 2014. Posnetki vokalnih zased Glasbene matice in podoba ljudske pesmi v času prvih gramofonskih snemanj na Slovenskem. Traditiones 43 (2): 75-96. DOI: 10.3986/traditio2014430204. Kunej, Drago. 2014a. Leto 1908 - začetek diskografije slovenske glasbe? Traditiones 43 (2):51-73. DOI: 10.3986/traditio2014430203. Kunej, Drago. 2014b. Med kodami skrita zvočna dediščina Slovencev. Glasnik SED 54 (1-2): 22-28. Kuret, Niko. 1930. Plošče P. Odila. Ave Maria 22 (marec ): 86-87. Nagode, Aleš. 2005. Poskus rekonstrukcije repertoarja latinskih cerkvenih skladb na koru ljubljanske stolnice v času delovanja Antona Foersterja (1868-1908). De musica disserenda 1 (1/2): 95-113. Oblak, Alfons. 1890. Fonograf, grafofon in gramofon. Dolenjske novice 6 (18): 137-139. Pennanen, Risto. 2007. Immortalised on Wax: Professional Folk Musicians and Their Gramophone Recordings Made in Sarajevo, 1907 and 1908. V: Božidar Jezernik idr. (ur.), Europe and Its Other - Notes on the Balkans. Ljubljana: Filozofska fakulteta, 107-148. Račič, Ivan. 1928a. Nove fonografske plošče. Ave Maria 20 (september ): 265-266. Račič, Ivan. 1928b. Nove fonografske plošče. II. Ave Maria 20 (november): 327. Račič, Ivan. 1928c. Nove fonografske ploše. III. Ave Maria 20 (december ): 359-360. Račič, Ivan. 1929. Nove fonografske plošče. Ave Maria 21 (april ): 102. Slovenec 1908. Plošče za gramofon s slovenskim besedilom ... Slovenec 36 (169), 25. 7.: [9]. Slovenski narod 1908. Zonophoni s slovenskimi pesmimi. Slovenski narod 41 (171), 25. 7.: [5]. Spottswood, Richard K. 1990. Ethnic music on records: a discography of ethnic recordings produced in the United States, 1893 to 1942. Chicago: University of Illinois Press. The Adrija ... 1934. The Adrija Slovene Singing Society. Memorial Book of the First All-Slavic Singing Festival, 1934. Foreign Language Press Survey. http://flps.newberry. org/article/chicagoforeignl0chic_0123. Obiskano 22. 9. 2014. POVZETEK Although many Slovene performers have quite often included sacred works into their recording repertoire, very little is known about these records. Hence, the present article, based on gramophone records released by the Ljubljana Cathedral Choir and the Adria Church Singers from Chicago (USA) during different time periods and in different milieus, tries to evaluate the response and market results of their recordings and analyse the material from the viewpoint of the popularization and commercialization of sacred music with the help of gramophone records and the developing gramophone industry. The recordings of the Ljubljana Cathedral Choir, i.e. six records, containing 12 songs, and issued by the Gramophone Company from Ljubljana in 1908, are not only one of the oldest gramophone recordings of sacred music in Slovenia but belong to the oldest Slovene recordings in general. The Cathedral Choir, at that time led by Anton Foerster, was of exceptional, formal and symbolic, importance for the whole Slovenian territory, since the musical image of liturgy in the central church of the bishopric was an example and an incentive for others. Therefore, no wonder the just-mentioned choir led the Gramophone Company to include, them among their performers. Together with others, they were periodically advertised in daily newspapers. However, they seem to have achieved poorer market results than the records by other performers. The Adria Choir, which sang at St Steven's in Chicago under Ivan Racic, was at that time also one of the best Slovenian church choirs in the USA, performing regularly and giving independent concerts as well. Their first gramophone record with sacred music was produced during the choir's first recording of nine different compositions for Victor in 1927. The peculiarity of this record lies in the cooperation of Father Odil Zakrajsek; the participation of a priest, a first in itself, enabled the producer to create a real religious event. The record was met with a wide response, so it was decided to release six similar records, this time issued by the periodical Ave Maria. Soon, these records were fully presented in the above-mentioned periodical and, according to their own statement, sold extremely well. Similarly to most activities in the gramophone industry, the recording of sacred pieces seems likely to have been linked with marketing and profit. Through the example of gramophone records released by the Ljubljana Cathedral Choir and the Adria Singers, one can see that favourable market results depended upon a number of factors. By all means, the appropriate approach in marketing and addressing potential buyers as well as advertising contributed to any financial success. By comparing the responses to the recordings of the two choirs, one can conclude that the records of the Adria Singers enjoyed greater success and response among the listeners than the Cathedral Choir records, which soon slipped into oblivion. It should be emphasized, however, that the Adria Singers had also recorded many secular works and that they were renown performers with the buyers of gramophone records. A mentionable contribution to their success came also through the much liked Father Odil, not forgetting the particularity of the market, since Slovenian immigrants to the USA liked to buy Slovene recordings which helped preserve the memories of their native country. If we compare the number of Adria Singers' recordings that have survived so far, one can see that there are fewer records with sacred content. Which brings us to the conclusion that they sold less successfully than those with secular music. Which again can be generalized as regards other Slovene gramophone records with sacred music. Because of that, many early sacred recordings appear to be less available and many a time overlooked, although they represent a precious musical heritage we don't know much about. Angleški prevod naslova, izvlečka in povzetka / title, abstract and summary translated to English by Andrej Rijavec. UDK 783.1(437.3) "18/19" DOI: 10.4312/mz.50.2.293-298 Jana Michalkova Slimačkova Music Faculty, Janaček Academy of Music and Performing Arts, Brno, Czech Republic Fakulteta za glasbo, Janačkova akademija za glasbo in predstavljajoče umetnosti, Brno, Češka Republika The Sacred and the Profane in the Organ Music of the Czech Lands in the 19th and 20th Centuries Sakralno in profano v orgelski glasbi čeških dežel v 19. in 20. stoletju Prejeto: 1. januar 2013 Sprejeto: 27. marec 2013 Ključne besede: orgelska glasba, romantika, češke dežele, glasba 20. stoletja IzvLEČEK Članek se posveča orgelski glasbi na Češkem in Moravskem v 19. in 20. stoletju. Prinaša pogled na vlogo orgelske glasbe v cerkveni glasbi in na razvoj obrti izdelovanja orgel. Avtorica podrobneje opazuje tudi nekaj kategorij orgelskih del, skupaj s skladbami različnih ustvarjalcev, ki jih ilustrirajo. Received: 1st January 2013 Accepted: 27th March 2013 Keywords: organ music, Romanticism, the Czech lands, the 20th century music Abstract The paper focuses on the organ music of Bohemia and Moravia the 19th and 20th centuries. It describes the situation in the area of both church music and organ building. Furthermore, several categories of organ music are dealt with. Finally, several composers are characterized as examples of these categories. In the 19th century, the organ loft of the local church was still an important focus of musical life, and the majority of composers took it for granted that they should concern themselves with liturgical and extra-liturgical church music. What is more, at this time the profession of organist and director of the church choir still enjoyed high artistic and social prestige. Worship services in the large cities were accompanied by significant musical production. In smaller cities and villages, the organ loft was still the focus of musical and, indeed, cultural life. As the secularisation of social life gathered momentum in the first half of the 19th century, secular music began to work its way into churches. The aforementioned secularisation was gradual, and was a natural feature of European culture. In music this led to the establishment of secular institutions for the education of professional musicians. These raised the level of musical culture, but also facilitated the influence of secular music on sacred music. The reaction against this situation took the form, in 1826, of the Association for the Improvement of Church Music in Bohemia (Jednota ku zvelebeni cirkevni hudby v Cechach), which founded the organ school in Prague four years later. In Moravia, the parallel Association for the Improvement of Church Music in Moravia (Jednota ku zvelebeni cirkevni hudby na Morave), formed on the initiative of Leos Janâcek, did not appear until 1881.1 Starting in the second half of the 19th century, however, liturgical music was slowly pushed to the edge of the field of interest of composers and artistic life in general, in step with the weakening of religious belief in the more educated classes of society. The prestige of the church organist, choir director also fell significantly and organ schools declined in importance. Church music proper became a conservative branch of music, into which ever fewer of the latest developments in music could penetrate. But at the same time, more and more "spiritual" works appeared which were intended to be performed in the concert hall. These works could be personal and original expressions of their composers, not bound by the requirements of the liturgy.2 In this epoch of decline in church music, with operatic melodies and other favourite pieces popping up in the organ loft, there arose a movement for reform, calling for a renewal of church music - the Caecilian Movement, called Cyrilism in the Czech cultural milieu. This movement, however, did not contribute to the development of music for organ solo. Now for a brief history of the organ in our era. Baroque, or more precisely Classical organ specifications were still the norm in the Czech lands for a very long time, essentially up to the mid-19th century. Romanticism in music had little influence, and changes were gradual. The transition to a Romantic sound was made mostly starting in the 1870s under the influence of the Caecilian reform, which was widely supported and implemented in the Czech lands. Scores of historic instruments, especially in the cities, were rebuilt, leaving few instruments in the Czech lands in their original dispositions. Romanticism and the influence of the reform lasted much longer in the Czech lands than in surrounding areas, even into the first half of the 20th century. Starting in the 1940s, there was an attempt to return to Baroque ideals, especially in the disposition of registers, but less with respect to intonation. It was mostly thought that the ideal organ was a polyvalent one with a universal sound, one which nevertheless lacked any unique characteristics.3 After the arrival of communism, organ firms were nationalised and large factories came into being which often engaged in building enormous instruments. Numerous historic organs were ruined by inappropriate modifications.4 After the change of regime in 1989, small organ workshops reappeared, most of them out of 1 Petr Vít, "Doba národního probuzení (1810-1860)" in Hudba v ceskych déjinách: odstfedovéku do novédoby (Praha: Supraphon, 1989), 308-309. 2 Vladimir Lébl, Jitka Ludvová, "Nová doba (1860-1938)" in Hudba v ceskych déjinách: od stfedovéku do nové doby (Praha: Supraphon, 1989), 364-365. 3 Milan Šlechta, Déjiny varhan a varhanní hudby v Evropé (Praha: Státní pedagogické nakladatelství, 1985), 57-60. 4 Bohumil Plánsky, "Ceské a moravské varhanárství v druhé polovine 20. století", in Varhany a jejich funkce v Cechách a na Moravé 1600-2000, ed. Jan Vičar, Kritické edice hudebních památek V (Olomouc, Univerzita Palackého, 2003), 97-104. love and enthusiasm for organs, and some of these are even doing work outside of the Czech Republic. Significantly greater attention is devoted to restoring historic instruments, something which can be done only by competent craftsmen. In this way several outstanding instruments have been saved.5 Now we will look at the situation with music for the organ. In the 19th century organists, choir directors, and pedagogues all wrote music for organ, but this was not enough to provide them a living. The vast majority of the composers who wrote for organ occupied relatively low positions, and today they are little known or even completely unknown names whose music is played only sporadically at best. Only a few organists became renowned performing artists. The organ was not the centre of attention for Czech composers in either the 19th or - with a few exceptions - the 20th centuries. It is significant that the most important and today most oft-played 19th- and 20th-century composers applied themselves to organ music only sporadically, either during their studies or younger years when they were searching for their own compositional language, or later in their lives as the result of an inner impulse, either personal or historical.6 Bedrich Smetana (1824-1884), when young, wrote 6 short preludes for organ. During his studies at the Prague organ school, Antonin Dvorak (1841-1904) wrote 8 pieces for organ, which he called Composition Essays (Kompozicnipokusy). Leos Janacek (1854-1928) is another example of a composer for whom - like for Dvorak and Smetana - the organ was not the most convenient medium of expression. His first three organ compositions are from the time of his studies at the organ school in Prague. Two more short pieces from 1884 are lacklustre improvisational works. Thereafter, Janacek did not return to the organ until near the end of his life, when he trusted the organ with the intermezzo and above all the Organ Solo (traditionally called Postludium) in his Glagolitic Mass (1926), an effective, ever growing monothematic stream of music. Nor was the organ an important medium for the expression of the thought of Vitëzslav Novak (1870-1949), who wrote only two compositions for organ: the Prelude on a Wallachian Love Song, based on a secular melody and thus remote from the style of most organ pieces, and the St. Wenceslas Triptych. In this second composition, the 71-year-old Novak turned to the organ, in a time of war, as a way of symbolically invoking the patron saint of the Czech lands. The work is a demanding, masterly composition with a vigorous toccata, a painfully intensifying ciaconna, and a contrapuntally complicated fugue, which does not renounce the composer's orchestral way of thinking. Indeed, Novak would orchestrate the work in the very year of its composition (1941). Bohuslav Martinû (1890-1959) was another composer who sought other instruments and combinations of instruments for his artistic expression, and other expressive possibilities than those offered him by the organ. It is revealing that he turned to the organ only in the last year of his life, when he began his only work for solo organ, Vigil, and was unable to complete it before dying. Martinû dedicated the work 5 Petr Koukal, "K soucasnym problemum pece o fond historickych varhan v Ceske republice", in Varhany a jejichfunkce v Cechdch a na Morave 1600-2000, ed. Jan Vicar, Kriticke edice hudebnich pamatek V (Olomouc, Univerzita Palackeho, 2003), 69-76. 6 Following survey of Czech composers is taken from: Jana Michalkova Slimackova, Ceske zeme, in Skladatele varhanni hudby, manuscript to be published. to Bedrich Janacek, a Czech organist living in Sweden. The work was eventually completed by that very Bedrich Janacek. With the two exceptions of Josef Klicka and Bedrich Antonin Wiedermann, who were also outstanding organists, there were no significant representatives of organ music in the Czech lands until the middle of the 20th century. It is well known that Josef Klicka (1855-1937) was the temporary head of the Prague Conservatory during Dvorak's time in America, and that he, after Smetana, was the second conductor of the Provisional Theatre. But above all, he was a celebrated organist, choirmaster, and teacher at the organ school and later at the conservatory. His works for organ demonstrate to what degree the ideal sound for the instrument in the 19th century was an orchestral one, and are considered to be the only Czech parallels to the French organ symphonies being written at that time. With his late-Romantic musical language, he normally does not strive for particularly dramatic expression, but his works are nevertheless marked by well-thought-out musical logic. Klicka's most often-played work, the Fantasy on Bedrich Smetana's Symphonic Poem Vysehrad, will clearly never be close to the heart of the musical purist. It is, however, not just a fashionable period piece, but attractive to listen to even today. The Concert Fantasy on the St. Wenceslas Chorale is far longer, and also has a much more weighty conception. Klicka also composed, among other works, three more concert fantasies, the extended Sonata in F-sharp Minor and the Concerto for Organ and Orchestra in D minor. The most important and most prolific Czech composer for organ since the 18th century was Bedrich Antonin Wiedermann (1883-1951). He was a church organist who taught at the Prague Conservatory and at the Academy of Performing Arts. He performed regularly, and gave concerts before services in the church of the Emmaus Monastery in Prague. Starting in 1920 he gave Sunday matinee concerts at the Obecni dum, and performed in the Czech countryside and abroad (both in Europe and the USA). Alongside his performances and teaching activities, he also devoted himself to composition and wrote more than 300 works, including 85 for organ. His musical language is late Romantic with elements of modern harmony and above all with a modern instrumental feel. The larger works demand considerable virtuosity. He is fond of traditional forms and church modes with chorales or vocal melodies. He wrote extended concert works, as well as smaller idylls and more than 200 chorale preludes. During the 20th century there was a gradual rise in the level of music for the organ. More valuable compositions began to appear in connection with technical improvements in organs themselves, developments in organ-playing technique, more frequent appearances of the instrument in concert, and better understanding of the possibilities of scoring for organ. Nevertheless, most composers still had their hearts in orchestral or chamber music. Music for organ was - and still is - composed mostly by organists and musicians having a personal connection to the organ, or by those who symbolically turned to the organ in certain stages or situations in their lives. Without a doubt, the most important and the most frequently played of Czech composers for the organ in the 2nd half of the 20th century, both at home and abroad, is Petr Eben (1929-2007). He discovered the organ as a child, but at the Academy of Performing Arts in Prague he studied piano and composition. He gave concerts not only as a pianist, but also as an organ improviser. For Eben, the organ was the instrument with which he could express himself most personally. He often communicates a deep message, even an extramusical programme, citing Gregorian chant, Lutheran chorales, or Czech folk melodies. Sunday Music (1957-1959) is his most oft-played and most beloved cycle of works for solo organ. Among the most extensive of Eben's philosophical and spiritual cycles, inspired by literary themes, are Faust (1979), originally conceived as incidental music for Goethe's play as performed at Vienna's Burgtheater; Job (1987), based on the story from the Old Testament; and Labyrinth of the World and Paradise of the Heart (2002), originally an improvisation on a text by Jan Amos Komensky. Among Eben's other works worth mentioning are his Hommage a Dietrich Buxtehude (1987), written for the anniversary of the North German composer's birth and incorporating citations from Buxtehude's music. Biblical Dances (1991) presents - as the name would indicate - dances as they appeared in the Bible, accompanied by a choreographic portrayal. Eben also wrote two concertos for organ and orchestra. Other 20th-century composers of significant organ music include Miloslav Kabelač (1908-1979); his Two Fantasies op. 32 of 1958 are often played, and the second of them was written for the international competition of the Prague Spring Festival. Miloš Sokola (1913-1976) is another, who has written several pieces on the B-A-C-H theme. The best-known organ pieces by Otmar Macha (1922-2006) are his Three Toccatas (Funeral Toccata, Wedding Toccata and Christmas Toccata). Jin Teml (1935), a former radio producer in Prague, composed organ music from the late 1960s; his pieces include a Fantasia appassionata, a programmatic Mysterium sacrum on the life of Christ, and a Fantasietta: Hommage a Buxtehude for the tercentenary of the death of the North German composer. There were two composers of organ music, both working in Moravia, who had been fellow-students of the organ at the Brno conservatory: the op. 1 of the first, Zdenek Pololanik (1935), was a set of Variations for Organ and Piano, which won high praise abroad, and which was followed by many other pieces; from the 1970s he wrote in a more popular style. The other, Milan Slimaček (1936), composed for organ in his youth, and then again in the 1980s, including his frequently-performed Fantasy on the B-A-C-H theme, of 2005. Radek Rejšek (1959), who is not only an organist but also a carillonneur, and as a music producer at Czech Radio has recorded many historic organs, has composed (for example) a Ludus spatii for two organs, of 1990. It is now possible for us to come up with a typology of works for organ and a separate typology of composers for the organ, and to see where the two categories overlap. For composers, we can set up the following categories: composers of church music; actively composing organists (often virtuosi); composers having a more or less intensive (often personal) relationship to the organ; and finally composers who wrote only the occasional piece for organ just as they may have for any other instrument. For compositions for organ, we can set up these categories: compositional studies; liturgical works such as preludes, interludes, postludes (these compositions are the most numerous, often being of moderate or even inconsequential length); a good number of works with organ accompaniment; and other works of which far fewer were written, like solo concert works, works for organ with other instruments, either chamber ensemble or orchestra, organ concertos with orchestra (a form which appeared very in- frequently in Czech music), and in the 2nd half of the 20th century, experimental works which are played mostly at special concerts for contemporary music. At present the organ is not among composers' most popular instruments, and what was said above still holds true: the composers who write for the organ are those who have a personal relationship to it as a church instrument and who have studied it, or from an external stimulus (a commission, or a request from a performer). It is a shame that the works of the older generation of composers (e.g. those from the 1950s and 1960s) are hardly played at all nowadays, and were heard only at the time they were composed. But there are grounds for optimism in the fact that today's younger generation of organists is showing interest in until recently forgotten composers of church music, whose works were not at the forefront of stylistic developments, and who also composed works for organ, especially in the 19th century and in the 1st half of the 20th century; there is even interest in composers who worked outside of the mainstream. They are now being given attention by performers and musicologists. This is invaluable especially because these composers give us a base against which we can compare the work of musical giants like Smetana, Dvorak, Janacek, Martinu and Novak, or outstanding organists like Klicka a Wiedermann. POVZETEK Članek prinaša pregled orgelske glasbe na Češkem in Moravskem v 19. in 20. stoletju. V 19. stoletju je bil glasbeni kor krajevne cerkve še vedno pomembno središče glasbenega življenja, zato je bilo za večino skladateljev samoumevno, da so se posvečali tudi skladanju liturgične in izvenliturgične cerkvene glasbe. Ko se je začela v prvi polovici pospešena sekularizacija družbenega življenja, je z njo v cerkve prodrla tudi posvetna glasba. Od druge polovice 19. st. naprej je bila liturgična glasba vedno bolj na obrobju zanimanja skladateljev, pa tudi glasbenega življenja nasploh. Proces je potekal skladno z upadanjem vernosti med predstavniki bolj izobraženih družbenih slojev. Cerkvena glasba je postajala vedno bolj konservativna glasbena zvrst, v katero so redko prodrle novosti sodobnega glasbenega razvoja. Na drugi strani pa so začela nastajati dela »duhovne glasbe«, namenjena izvedbi v koncertni dvorani. Tovrstna dela so bila individualne in izvirne stvaritve skladateljev, neomejene s potrebami liturgije. Organisti, zborovodje in učitelji so v 19. st. sicer ustvarjali glasbo za orgle, vendar se s tem niso mogli preživljati. Večina jih je zasedala sorazmerno neugledne službe, tako da danes malo vemo o njih, čeprav se morda njihova dela občasno še izvajajo. Le redki so postali sloviti izvajalci. Orgle niso bile v središču pozornosti čeških skladateljev 19. in - z redkimi izjemami - 20. stoletja. Zanimivo je, da so se tudi najpogosteje izvajani skladatelji tega časa orglam posvečali le občasno, bodisi v času študija, ko so še iskali svoj glasbeni jezik, ali pa kasneje zaradi notranjih spodbud, osebnih ali zgodovinskih. Primeri so Bedrich Smetana, Antonin Dvorak, Leoš Janaček, Vitezslav Novak, Bohuslav Martinu. Z izjemo dveh, ki sta bila izredna orglavca, Josef Klička in Bedrich Antonin Wiedermann, v čeških deželah do sredine 20. st. ni bilo pomembnih orgleskih glasbenikov. V 20. st. se je začel postopen dvig ravni orgelske glasbe. Nastajati so začele pomembnejše skladbe, tudi zaradi postopnega uveljavljanju tehničnih inovacij pri gradnji instrumentov, izpopolnjene tehnike igranja nanje, pogostejšem vključevanju v koncertne sporede in boljšim razumevanjem izkoriščanja zvočnih zmožnosti tega instrumenta. Glasbo za orgle so - in jo še - pretežno skladali organisti in glasbeniki, osebno povezani z instrumentom, ali pa skladatelji, ki so se v različnih življenjskih okoliščinah ukvarjali z orglami zaradi njihovega simbolnega pomena. Najpomembnejši ter doma in v tujini najpogosteje izvajani češki skladatelj za orgle druge polovice 20. st. je Petr Eben. Med drugimi pomembnimi skladatelji za orgle 20. st. velja omeniti tudi imena, kot so Mi-loslav Kabelač, Miloš Sokola, Otmar Macha, Jiri Teml, Zdenek Pololanik, Milan Slimaček in Radek Rejšek. Prevod naslova, izvlečka in povzetka Aleš Nagode. UDK 78.045:75.052 DOI: 10.4312/mz.50.2.299-308 Darja Koter Univerza v Ljubljani, Akademija za glasbo University of Ljubljana, Academy of music Musical Symbols: The Symbiosis of Religious and Secular Themes in Art Heritage Glasbeni simboli: Sožitje verskih in posvetnih tem v likovni dediščini Prejeto: 7. januar 2013 Sprejeto: 27. marec 2013 Ključne besede: glasbena ikonografija, simolika, glasbeni instrumenti, likovna dediščina IZVLEČEK Interpretacija glasbenih simbolov na freskah, slikah in arhitekturnem okrasju lahko prikaže duhovno plat simbolike. Nekaj primerov likovne dediščine slovenskih cerkva in palač iz časa med 16. in 18. stoletjem prikazuje medsebojno povezanost verskih in posvetnih vsebin. S tem kažejo, da je imelo prednost simbolizirano sporočilo, medtem ko je bila izbira teme - ki je bila lahko bolj ali manj duhovna in/ali posvetna - obstranska. Received: 7th January 2013 Accepted: 27th March 2013 Keywords: music iconography, symbolism, musical instruments, art heritage Abstract The interpretation of musical symbols the frescos, paintings and architectural details could explain the spiritual dimension of the symbolism. Some examples from the Slovenian art heritage of churches and palaces from the 16th to 18th century demonstrate the interplay between religious and secular content, which suggests that the symbolic value of the depictions is a priority, while the selection of themes which could be more or less spiritual or/and secular are not of the greatest significance Musical themes and their symbols in art heritage, such as oil pictures, wall paintings, architectural elements and many others, are often depicted in classical mythology and represent the nature of religion and cosmic harmony, as well as public and private secular life. They are associated with spiritual and philosophical meanings and concepts, visually representing the harmony of the spheres and human life and drawing our attention to the power of the universe. The mutuality of artistic and musical language has created a colorful line of works of art that serve as valuable witnesses to the history of music, its features, meanings, performance practice, and last but not least, religious and secular motifs and their symbolic meanings. Spiritual and secular art are often closely linked. The most significant elements within symbolic meanings are musical instruments, which illustrate the numerous spiritual and philosophical themes.1 They could illustrate the seven liberal arts, the five senses, or function as an allegory for hearing; they might appear as attributes of planets, months and zodiac characters in the personalization of music; they might feature in biblical scenes, in the harmony of the spheres, in love scenes, or they could be a part of the musical practices of the church liturgy and the glorification of God's attributes, alongside the figures of King David, St. Cecilia, Apollo and the Muses, Orpheus, Dionysus... The interdisciplinary study of visual sources with musical motifs can contribute to a more holistic understanding of the symbolic meaning of art and the social and cultural characteristics of civilization. The interweaving of various disciplines, which is indispensable in analyzing art and art and music history, requires a common research platform.2 Figure 1: Coronation of Mary, c. 1490, Johannes de Castua, Church of the Holy Trinity in Hrastovlje. See: Emanuel Winternitz, Musical Instruments and Their Symbolism in Western Art (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1979); Ervin Panofsky, Pomen v likovni umetnosti (Ljubljana: ŠKUC, Znanstveni inštitut FF, 1994). See Tom Philips, Music in Art - Through the Ages (Munich/New York: Prestel, 1997). Andelko Badurina, Leksikon ikonografije, liturgike i simbolike zapadnog krščanstva (Zagreb: Grafički zavod Hrvatske, 1979). 1 Figure 2: Madonna and Child Enthroned with Saints, 1516, Vittore Carpaccio, Cathedral of the Assumption in Capodistria/Koper. Figure 3: Madonna and Child Enthroned with Saints, 1516, Vittore Carpaccio, detail: Minstrel and angels with musical instruments. Figure 5: Madonna and Child with Piran Town Fathers, Domenico Tintoretto and co-workers, 1578, Pirano/Piran Municipal Palace. Fugure 4: Last Judgment, detail: angel with a long straight trumpet, beginn. of the 15th c., local artist, Church of St Stephen in Zanigrad/Sanigrado, Istria. Angel Musicians and Musical Instruments on Wall and Ceiling Paintings The majority of frescoes that feature heavily throughout medieval and renaissance churches depict angel musicians in the scenes of the Coronation of Mary, the Last Judgment, in the glory of heaven, and individual instruments as part of genre scenes. In a variety of religions, angels are intermediaries between God and the secular life, serving God as messengers, guardians and guides. These roles originated in ancient religions, Persian in particular. The figure of the angel originates in the worldly life from the courtiers and the messenger of the ancient Persian kingdom. In the 5th century AD, Pseudo-Dionysius the Areopagit divided the hierarchy and created a mystical theory of angels. From several examples, I would like to present the great fresco work (painted in the year 1490 by Janez of Kastav - Johannes de Castua) which covers the entire interior of the Church of the Holy Trinity in Hrastovlje on the west side of Slovenia, in the Istria region. It is distinguished by an all-encompassing and also carefully considered programme of theological content, which includes: Genesis, the Coronation of our Lady, representations of months, Passion of the Christ, and not least the role of the Dance of Death in the Last Judgment. The impressive scenes of the salvation symbolize the spirit of monumental French art of the 13thcentury.3 In accordance with the spirit of the time religious topics found expression in the depiction of more human figures with various feelings and moods. The scene portraying the Coronation of Our Lady (dated c. 1490) in the church of Hrastovlje includes angels playing the portative, fiddle, lute, straight trumpet, rebec and the medieval guitar known as the gittern, which were typical instruments in the 15th century. The portative, a medieval and early Renaissance organ, carried by a strap for playing while standing or walking, was exceptional in that it was the only instrument used in private and religious life; it was in fairly common use for both private music and dancing in noble circles, and also in church processions. The other musical instruments in St. Mary's coronation were usually used in private to accompany singing and dancing or for playing in a small group. The fiddle, rebec and lute were commonly used by troubadours, jugglers, minnensängers and other musicians; their public use stood in contrast to the spiritual life. Depictions of the angelic choir show the ensemble as an example of heavenly music, glorifying a heaven with all their semantic resources, proving that such daily practices neither existed in the church or secular sphere. Nevertheless, all the painted musical instruments, although depicted in a schematic way, represent musical instruments close to the spiritual sphere - we have already mentioned the portative, while the straight trumpet featured in the Last Judgment, and all other string instruments are symbols of heavenly harmonious music. In this respect we could stress that the angelic ensemble is not so far removed from religious practice, although such a group of musical instruments had little in common with church music. An example of this is the oil picture Coronation of Our Lady (1537) by Benedetto Carpaccio (b. ca. 1500 in Venice, d. after 1560 in Capodistria/Koper), the son of a well-known painter Vittore Carpaccio, a Venetian who became a resident of Capodistria/Koper in 1560. The painting of Benedetto Carpaccio, originating from Rotunda in 3 Janez Höfler, Srednjeveške freske v Sloveniji, vol. II, Primorska (Ljubljana: Družina, 1997), 31-32; Marijan Zadnikar, Hrastovlje. Romanska arhitektura in gotske freske (Ljubljana: Družina, 2002), 15-25. Capodistria/Koper, shows six angel musicians, all of them with string instruments, like a symbol of the Glory of Heaven.4 A similar symbiosis between the secular and religious world is evident in the Renaissance paintings with the motif of Mary on the throne or Sacred Conversation (St. Anna in Capodistria/Koper, Madonna and Child Enthroned with Saint Nicholas and Joseph), where the Virgin Mary with the infant Jesus are depicted amid a group of saints and angles or cherubs musicians. Musical Angels are as a rule placed on the steps under the throne. One of the common elements of the motif as a sign of Mary's glorification was a book (or books) of the Virgin Mary's hymns. Angels or cherubs can be seen as children singing with instrumental accompaniment, as was usual practice during the Renaissance. Alongside the usual musical instruments seen in the motif of the Sacred Conversation, we can recognize the rebec, lute, fiddle and lira da braccio, which were typical in musical practice during the 15th and 16th century and were also symbols of heavenly music. Two of the most outstanding examples of the described motif are the pictures of Girolamo da Santacroce (b. ca. 1480, d. 1556), a Venetian painter from the school of the renowned Giovanni Bellini (ca. 1430-1516). The first one is preserved in the central church in Isola/ Izola (Sacra Conversazione) and the second in the church of St. Anna in Capodistria/ Koper (Madonna and Child Enthroned with Saint Nicholas and Joseph), nowadays part of restitution material kept in Italy.5 The impact of everyday musical practice confirms that in general there was much more freedom regarding instruments during the Renaissance period, while the earlier Christian world had displayed a strong antagonism to musical instruments as representative objects of paganism. Characteristic of the interweaving of some sacral and secular motifs are angels depicted as Minstrels-seen in the Renaissance religious paintings with images of the Virgin Mary, such as Sacred Conversation. One of the typical examples is the oil picture Madonna and Child Enthroned with Saints, kept by the Cathedral of the Assumption in Capodistria/Koper. It was painted by the famous Venetian artist Vittore Carpaccio (around 1465-1525/26) in 1516. The picture was commissioned by members of the noble families of Capodistria/Koper Capello and Contarini, as demonstrated by the coat of arms painted on the pillars. The painting exhibits a minstrel with a lute and cherubs with a harp and crumhorn. The minstrel is a secular figure, a medieval bard who performed songs about existing or imaginary historical events; they were often retained by noblemen and many become wandering minstrels who performed in the streets. However, they also symbolize a sophisticated sphere that is emphasized with aureole, seen in the mentioned picture, and the two books of scores as a symbol of hymns. The figure with the lute is taken from Carpacco's work the Presentation in the Temple, held by the Accademia di Belle Arti in Venice, where we can also see an angel with a crum-horn and lyre da braccio. The lutenist in both pictures is modeled on real instruments that were typical for musical instruments makers in Bologna in the early 16th c., and in use during the whole century. The artist is sitting cross-legged, leaning the lute on his left knee, his chin resting on the edge of the resonant (resonant body is ok) body, while 4 Darja Koter, Musica coelestis et musica profana. Glasbeni motivi v likovni dediščini od severne Istre do Vremske doline (Koper: Pokrajinski muzej, 2008), 45-46. 5 Koter, Musica coelestis et musica profana, 38-39. his face looks towards his left hand, with which he is strumming. He is using the thumb of his right hand to play, which points to a modern method of playing that replaced the plectrum at the end of the15th century. As a rule, realistic depictions of the musicians' pose and manner of play are uncommon in pictures with a religious motif. The majority of depicted musical instruments have a schematic body lacking in detail, while the way they are played is largely non-realistic (it seems as though the figure is simply holding the instrument rather than actually playing it). The harp depicted in the cherub's hand reminds us of a small medieval instrument, familiar to wandering musicians or clerics, and used to accompany songs and dance. It is the harp that unites the sky and the earth; its sound symbolizes the pursuit of happiness. The third musical instrument, the crumhorn, is depicted as a typical soprano instrument of the 16th c., with no similar depictions having been found in pictorial sources.6 While the harp could be a symbol of celestial or secular music, the crumhorn is a distinctly secular element. Furthermore, since ancient times, woodwind instruments have been synonymous with the orgiastic cult of Dionysian music, which carried overwhelmingly negative connotations in the Christian world. In spite of all this, they become increasingly popular during medieval and Renaissance times, which influenced the development of diverse shapes and types of musical instruments, such as recorders, crumhorns, cornets or shawms and others. The crumhorn was essentially an instrument played by professional musicians at court to provide dance music and in the town wind bands which played on the streets, from the church or town towers etc., in common use especially during the 16th and 17th cen-tury.7 Instruments are also featured on the wall painting Adoration of the Magi, which features an equestrian procession of the kings, accompanied by an aristocratic suite and musicians depicted above genre scenes with hunters, animals and grotesque figures. The illustration of the knight procession, placed on a landscape of medieval towns and castles with contemporary dressed figures, is an imitation of the period without religious objects and symbols. The symbolization of the scene is a pronouncement of regal power.8All of these characteristics can be seen in the examples from the end of the 15th century preserved in the Church in Hrastovlje and in the Church of St Helen in Gradišče near Divača. On the first fresco, we can see two riders carrying a straight and an S-shaped trumpet, while one has a small drum and a necklace of sleigh bells around his neck. The performance practice of trumpeters or trombone players and kettledrums (in this case replaced by a small drum and sleigh bells) originate from the Arabic World, and become a part of the noble processions during the crusades. Until around 1300, trumpet players were travelling musicians, but during the next two centuries they become city musicians or part of the nobleman trumpet corps, performing improvised harmonies of various sounds. The medieval straight trumpet (1 to 2 meters long) of wood, bronze or silver consisted generally of four sections, with a mouthpiece (a simple widening of the tube), cylindrical bore and slight bell, and were usually sounded in pairs as signals. Around 1400, instrument 6 Koter, Música coelestis et música profana, 40-41. 7 Barra R. Boydel, "Crumhorn", The New Grove, Dictionary of Musical Instruments, ed. by Stanley Sadie, vol. 1 (London: Macmil-lian Press, 1995), 519-523. 8 Hofler, Srednjeveške freske v Sloveniji, Primorska, vol. II, 95. makers learned how to bend the tube to make an S-shaped trumpet.9 Another depiction that represents profane musicians with brass and percussion instruments can be found in the Adoration of the Magi in the Church of St Helen in Gradišče near Divača. Its similarity to the image in Hrastovlje suggests it could have been painted by the same master around the same time (1490). The procession depicts three trumpeters with straight trumpets performing music in a manner typical of knight processions. The trumpets even have hanging banners - in this case without the blazon that defined a nobleman's family. The genre scene includes animals, beaters and hunters, with two of them carrying hunting horns, depicting an everyday country life. The straight trumpet could be seen as playing the role of uniting heaven and earth, as seen on the fresco depicting the Last Judgment. Another eloquent example is the Church of St Stephen in Sanigrado/Zanigrad, Istria, from the beginning of the 15th century: there is an angel with a long straight trumpet announcing the resurrection of the dead and two angels with straight trumpets surrounding Christ in a mandorla, similar to the sound of God. The fresco was reportedly painted by local artists from the Friuli region or Istria.10 All of these instruments bear a schematic shape that point to their symbolic meaning. One of the prominent functions of trumpeters was the announcement and praise of solemn ceremonies, as seen in the painting Madonna and Child with Piran Town Fathers (1578), preserved in the main hall of Piran Municipal Palace. It was reportedly painted by Domenico Tintoretto and painters working for his famous father Jacopo (dated to 1578).uThe picture is a votive painting with symbols of secular and religious worship-connected with Sacra Conversazione. The iconography of the Virgin and Child with the patrons St Marko and St George is supplemented with figures of the city dignitaries of Pirano/Piran, who are pledging themselves to divine figures. The devout contents are supplemented with a secular motive. At the forefront are municipal notabilities accompanying a young man who is committing himself to God. The figure with a hat may have been the municipal judge between 1600 and 1602, Giovanni Battista Baseggia, the father of the kneeling young man. The identity of the person could be proven by the banner with a coat-of-arms, a symbol of the family, fastened at the trumpet on the right. The picture shows a trumpeter with a baroque style natural trumpet which was most probably added later, presumably in the second half of the 18th c. The trumpeter, possible as a portrait, is a secular figure who served nobleman, municipal and church authorities, well known during the 16th and 17th century. The trumpet has a brilliant sound, created for the purpose of rallying military forces and sounding signals associated with religious and secular ceremonies for playing outdoors, in churches and palaces. In the ancient testaments it is mentioned as a sacred instrument, a symbol of angels and/or the godly voice.12 In fine arts heritage, musical elements also appear in architectural ornamentation: on stucco ceilings, plastically sculptured friezes, reliefs, stone ornaments on steps and facades of imposing buildings and palaces, walls around organ lofts in churches ... Their 9 Edward H. Tarr, "Trumpet", The New Grove, Dictionary of Musical Instruments, ed. by Stanley Sadie, vol. 3 (London: Macmillian Press, 1995), 641-649. 10 Höfler, Srednjeveške freske v Sloveniji, Primorska, vol. II, 151-154. 11 Duška Žitko, La grande tela del Domenico Tintoretto dedicata alla Vergine Maria con bambino ed i padri cittadini nuovamente eposta nelpalazzo del comune di Pirano, Lasa pur dir (Pirano: Trillo, 1997), 132-135. 12 Koter, Musica coelestis et musica profana, 31. depictions mostly bear symbolic meanings, with music standing for cosmic harmony and perfection. Sometimes they illustrate the mission of ecclesiastical and secular buildings. The Cathedral of the Assumption in Capodistria/Koper boasts architectural ornamentation on the wall around the organ loft, which was created in the first half of the 18th c. when the cathedral was enlarged. The stylized decoration is made of colored and gilded stucco. Sculptured in gilded bas-reliefs, the stylized instruments are displayed on thirteen panels, with individual panels being structured as still lifes with books of scores and musical instruments and decorated ribbons. The reliefs show various wind (recorder, shawm, oboe), brass (trombone, post horn), string (lute, violin, harp, psaltery) and percussion instruments (triangle, tambourine), as well as a mechanical instrument reminiscent of the barrel organ. The instruments sculpted in the frieze can be interpreted as symbols of heavenly perfection, with music connecting heaven and earth and singing praise to the Lord. Among the depicted instruments are some explicitly secular examples, such as the tambourine, post horn, bagpipe, barrel organ and some others. The interpretation of musical symbols on the frescos, paintings and architectural details could explain the spiritual dimension of the symbolism. Some examples from the Slovenian art heritage of churches and palaces from the 16th to 18th century demonstrate the interplay between religious and secular content, which suggests that the symbolic value of the depictions is a priority, while the selection of themes which could be more or less spiritual or/and secular are not of the greatest significance. The noblemen who placed orders of art equipment for churches or palaces during the Renaissance and Baroque period were, as a rule, active in academies, well educated in literature, philosophy, science, art and other noble fields, which were the main subjects of the creation of the symbiosis of religious and secular topics. POVZETEK Prepletanje sakralnih in posvetnih motivov je v kulturni dediščini stalnica glasbenih tem in njihovih simbolnih pomenov. Najdemo jih na slikah, stenskih poslikavah, arhitekturnih elementih in drugje. Upodobljeni so v klasični mitologiji, poosebljajo naravo vere in nebeško harmonijo ter posvetno življenje javnega in intimnega značaja. Glasbene simbole povezujemo tudi z duhovnimi in filozofskimi pomeni ter z miselnimi pojmi, vizualizirajo harmonijo sfer, manifestirajo človekovo življenje ter poudarjajo vsakdanjost in moč univerzuma. Vzajemnost likovne in glasbene govorice je ustvarila bogato bero umetniških del in predmetov umetne obrti, ki so dragoceni pričevalci glasbene zgodovine, njenih značilnosti, pomenov, izvajalske prakse in ne nazadnje pričajo o simbolnih pomenih duhovnih in posvetnih razsežnosti, ki so večkrat tesno povezani. Med najpogostejšimi upodobljenimi glasbenimi motivi s simbolnimi pomeni so glasbila, ki ilustrirajo številne teme. S poglobljeno interpretacijo motivov na freskah, slikah in arhitekturnih elementih lahko spoznamo široke dimenzije simbolov. Posamezni likovni primeri iz dediščine v cerkvah in palačah iz slovenske Istre in obalnih mest, kot so Koper, Izola in Piran, ki datirajo v obdobje med 16. in 18. stoletjem, demonstrirajo simbiozo sakralnih in posvetnih simbolov. Prepoznamo jih na različnih motivih, kot so Marijino kronanje, poslednja sodba, nebeška harmonija, sveti razgovor oziroma Sacra Conversazione, pohod in poklon sv. treh kraljev in ne nazadnje na žanrskih prizorih. Prioriteta njihove povednosti je v simbolni vrednosti, kar pomeni, da prihaja tudi do pogostega prepletanja oziroma interakcije med sakralno in posvetno motiviko. To ne preseneča, saj so bili naročniki umetniških del v obravnavanem obdobju večinoma plemiči, sicer praviloma aktivni v akademijah in dobro izobraženi v literaturi, filozofiji, znanosti in umetnosti, kar je tvorilo odlično izhodišče za prepletanje duhovnih in svetnih simbolov. Imensko kazalo • Index Ababi Sirli, Adriana 84 Abbate, Carolyn 248 Abert, Hermann 46, 50 Abraham 81, 91 Ačko, France 204, 207 Aesop glej Ezop Agamben, Giorgio 17-21, 27, 28, 30 Agobard, lyonski nadškof 161, 171 Agricola, Johann Friedrich 218 Albreht V., bavarski vojvoda 194 Aleksander (Alexander) I., ruski cesar 34 Aleksander I. Karadordevic 201, 202 Alfano, Franco 213, 218-221 Alla, Thierry 57 Ambros, August Wilhelm 183 Ambrose glej Ambrož Milanski Ambrož Milanski 22 Anakreont (Anacreon) 88 Anand, Mulk Raj 155 Anastasiou, George 78, 80-83 Anderson, Julian 59 Anderson, Martin 114, 124 Angeli, Tamburi 80 Anonymous IV 25, 30 Antegnati, Costanzo 181, 183, 186, 187, 191-193, 195-198 Anthelm 159 Antigona (Antigone) 259 Antonicek, Theophil 47 Apolon (Apollo) 20, 239, 240, 300 Aristid Kvintiljan (Aristides Quintilianus) 86 Aristotel (Aristotle) 27, 30 Arnoldi, Heinrich 161 Arntz, Michael 47 Arsenios mlajši 81 Arutin, Tamburi 85, 86 Assmann, Jan 10 Atanazij Aleksandrijski 22, 28 Atanazij Kasavetis s Cipra 89, 91 Athanasios Kassavetis glej Atanazij Kasavetis Athanasius of Alexandria glej Atanazij Aleksandrijski Augustine of Hippo glej Avguštin iz Hipona Aurobindo, Sri 8, 16 Avguštin iz Hipona 22, 25, 28, 162, 171 Avitsur, Eitan 32 Baats, Ursula 56, 57 Bach, Carl Philipp Emanuel 218 Bach, Johann Christian 35 Bach, Johann Sebastian 9, 43, 44, 46, 48-50, 54, 131, 133, 154, 155 Bach, Maria Barbara 54 Bacon, Francis 241, 243 Badev, Atanas 65 Badurina, Andelko 300 Bajt, Drago 200 Bajuk, Marko ml. 271 Bajuk, Marko st. 209, 210 Balakauskas, Osvaldas 113 Balantič, France 269 Balasios 82, 83, 91 Balet, Leo 44 Barbo, Matjaž 253 Barker, Andrew 20, 28 Barzun, Jacques 35 Baseggia, Giovanni Battista 307 Baselt, Bernd 214-216 Baumann, Max Peter 83 Bayer, Gerd 144 Beare, William 21, 28 Beck, Don Edward 8, 15, 16 Beck, Guy L. 153, 155 Beck, Hermann 183, 197 Becker, Hansjakob 159, 160, 162, 163, 165, 171, 173 Bednall, J. B. 245, 248 Beethoven, Ludwig van 11-13, 39, 44, 45, 49-51, 229 Bell, Catherine 247 Bellini, Giovanni 305 Benedik, Metod 159, 171, 200 Benjamin, Walter 19, 27, 28 Bennett, Benjamin 241 Bentham, Jeremy 90 Beran, Emerik 210 Bereketis, Petros 81 Berendt, Joachim-Ernest 153, 155, 156 Berezovski (Berezovsky), Maksim 33-35 Berg, Alban 14 Bergson, Henri 18 Berliner, Emile 279, 280 Berlioz, Hector 35 Bernhard, Thomas 214 Bernot-Golobova, Franja 210 Berry, Mark 239 Berry, Mary 159, 171 Bertram, Ernst 240 Berzina-Reinsone, Sanita 112 Besseler, Heinrich 51 Best, Terence 216 Biafra, Jello 148 Bianco, Pietro Antonio 194 Biba, Otto 94 Birkin, Kenneth 242 Birnbaum, Johann Abraham 44 Birnbaum, Stanley H. 25, 29 Björk 61 Blevec, Daniel le 172 Bloxam, M. Jennifer 183, 197 Blume, Friedrich 159, 172 Boase, Roger 81 Bohannan, Laura 18, 29 Bohlman, Philipp V. 38 Böhme-Mehner, Tatjana 47 Boiko, Märtins 112 Bonta, Stephen 94 Bortnjanski (Bortniansky), Dimitrij 33-35, 38-40 Bourdieu, Pierre 224, 229, 230 Bower, Calvin M. 23, 28 Boydel, Barra R. 306 Brahms, Johannes 13 Brannon, Norman 149 Braude, Benjamin 78 Braun, Christina von 55 Braun, Joachim 131 Brendel, Franz 46 Bricelj, Franc 209, 210 Brigita Irska (Brigit of Ireland) 22, 23, 29 Britten, Benjamin 66 Brody, Lazer 41 Brook, Peter 16 Brown, George H. Broz - Tito, Josip Bruckner, Anton Brugh, Lorraine S. Bruno iz Kölna Bruno, Giordano Bryan, Paul Bryennius, Manuel Bula, Dace Bülow, Hans von Buonaparte, Napoleon Burkholder, J. Peter Burney, Charles Busse Berger, Anna Maria Butchart, David S. Butler, Terence Michael Joseph "Geezer" Buxtehude, Dietrich Buzarovski, Dimitrije Cabaniss, Allen Cabrol, Fernand Cage, John Cajori, Florian Calhoun, Lawrence G. Calvisius, Sethus Camus, Albert Canessa, Francesco Cantemir, Dimitrie Capece, Carlo Sigismondo Cappo, Ray Carpaccio, Benedetto Carpaccio, Vittore Cartesius Castanet, Pierre-Albert Catalani, Alfredo Catherine II. Cavalli, Francesco Ceming, Katharina Cerone, Pietro Cervone, Roswita Chagal, Marc Chaney, David Chardin, Teilhard de Cherugin, Bathia 23, 28 260 12, 13, 69 38, 39 158 10 95, 96 86 112 221 44, 158 195, 197 94 23, 24, 28, 30 184, 198 137, 140, 145 297 63-75 161, 171 159, 161, 171 56, 62 17, 29 14 182 53 219 80, 82, 83, 85 214, 216, 217, 221 149, 150, 152, 154 304 301, 302, 304, 305 glej Descartes, Rene 57 219 glej Katarina II. 184, 197 8 182, 197 236 32 224, 229 8 94, 96 Chopin, Frédéric 12 Christe, Ian 137 Christoph, Teodor 281 Christopoulos, Athanasios 87, 88 Christou, Jani 62 Chrysanthos iz Madytosa 83, 84 Cikker, Jan 218 Cilea, Francesco 219 Ciril (Cyril), 64, 65, 74, 75, 210 Ciril iz Marmare 84-86, 91 Cizmas, Arabella 239 Clayton, Alfred 274 Clemens z Mytilene 82 Clogg, Richard 78 Cluzet, Emmanuel 159, 171 Cobussen, Marcel 58 Cogan, Brian 137, 145 Cohen, Judith R. 35, 38 Collamore, Lila 170 Comte, Auguste 247 Connolly, Sean 23, 29 Cope, L. Andrew 144 Copernicus glej Kopernik, Nikolaj Corelli, Arcangelo 214, 215 Cowan, Christopher C. 15 Croce, Giovanni 194 Crombie, Alistair Cameron 21, 29 Crook, David 196, 197 Croon, Johan Harm 86 Crumb, George 112 Cummings, Denver 90 Cvirn, Janez 200, 202 Čajkovski, Modest 32 Čajkovski, Peter Iljič 32-35 Čejni Dejvid glej Chaney, David Čerin, Josip 206, 207, 209 Česnokov, Pavel 210 Da Ponte, Lorenzo 91 Daftary, Farhad 81 Dahlhaus, Carl 218, 274 Dailey, Patricia 21, 28 Daitz, Mimi S. 122 Dales, Richard C. Dambis, Pauls Damico, Helen Danijel (Daniel), prerok Danilo, Anton Danto, Arthur Danuser, Hermann Darwin, Charles David, judovski kralj Deathridge, John Debeljak, Tine Debroise, Emilio Debussy, Claude Dede Efendi, Ismail Degand, Amand Dekleva, Milan Demaras, Könstantinos Demetz, Peter DeNora, Tia Descartes, René Desprez (des Prez), Josquin Dessoir, Max DeWoskin, Kenneth J. DiCara, Vic Dioniz (Dionysus) Dittersdorf, Carl Ditters von Dolinar, Anton Dolinar, France M. Dox, Donnalee Draesekes, Felix Dreyfus, Laurence Drnovšek, Marjan Duncan, Carol Durastante, Margherita During, Jean Durkheim, Émile Durlovski, Igor Easwaran, Eknath Eben, Petr Edison, Thomas Alva Eggebrecht, Hans Heinrich Ehrmann-Herfort, Sabine Einstein, Albert 27, 29 133-135 23, 28 167 287 108 48, 274 49 31, 41, 42, 65, 102, 300 239 252, 260 161, 171 66 90 159-161, 171 105 87 19, 28 224, 229 241 182 50 20, 29 150-154 231, 300 94-96, 99 207, 210 159, 171, 200 162, 171 47 234, 236 200 228, 230 2015 82 247 73 155 296-298 279, 280 51 214-217 50 Eissen, Cliff 95 Eller, Rudolf 50 Ellis, Katharine 225, 230 Emerson, John A. 159, 171 Englund, Björn 281, 283, 289 Ertan, Deniz 57 Ezekiel, prerok 258, 269, 271 Ezop 131, 133, 135 Faganel, Tomaž 97, 99 Falconer, Keith 170 Falvy, Zoltän 161, 171 Feldman, Walter 83, 85 Fend, Michael 239 Fenlon, Iain 184, 197 Ferdinand II. Habsburški 194 Ferreira, Manuel Pedro 163, 171 Filippo, kastrat 215 Filocamo, Gioia 183, 197 Filolaj 20 Fink, Gottfried Wilhelm 45 Fink, Marcos 271 Fink-Inzko, Bernarda 271 Fink-Menvielle, Veronika 271 Finscher, Ludwig 182, 183, 197 Firfov, Milan 66 Firfov, Živko 65 Firšt, Nenad 101, 107, 109, 110 Fish, Robert 150, 154 Fleischmann, Krista 214 Foerster, Anton 281-283, 290, 291 Fontaine, Susanne 216 Fontana, Eszter 44 Fort, Jeff 19, 21, 28 Frangovska, Jasna 66, 74 Franklin, John Curtis 20, 29 Frazee, Charles A. 88 Freeman, Robert N. 94 Freud, Sigmund 14, 15, 18, 62 Friedrich, Michael 16 Frith, Simon 108 Froese, Brian 142, 144 Frosch, Johann 182 Fuchs, Thomas 44 Fuller, Catherine 90 Funk, Karl Josef 50 Furrer, Beat 61 Gabriel iz Ierissosa 83 Gačeša, Marjeta 114 Gajard, Joseph 160, 161, 172 Gajdov, Stefan 65 Gallacher, Patrick J. 23, 29 Gebser, Jean 7, 8, 16 Geck, Martin 44 Gellert, Christian Fürchtegott 44 Gennep, Arnold van 247 Gerasim iz Cipra 89 Gerasimos of Cyprus glej Gerasim iz Cipra Gerbič, Fran 282 Gerhard, Anselm 48 German iz Starega Patrasa 83, 88, 89, 91 Germanos of Old Patras glej German iz Starega Patrasa Ghirardini, Gherardo 220 Gianos, Mary P. 87 Gianturco, Carolyn M. 216 Giordano, Umberto 219 Girard, Alain 172 Giraud, Albert 29 Gjungjenac-Gavella, Zlata 210 Glinka, Mihail 34 Gluck, Christoph Willibald 34 Godwin, Joscelyn 20, 29, 85 Goebbels, Joseph 50 Goethe, Johann Wolfgang 48, 297 Goleman, Daniel 8, 15 Gonzaga, Ferrante 184 Gostič, Jože 210 Gosvami, Satsvarüpa Däsa 149, 155 Grabnar, Klemen 182, 183, 197 Grabnar, Stanko 204 Gradnik, Alojz 269 Gramit, David 224, 225, 230 Granda, Stane 200, 202 Grandi, Alessandro 184, 197 Grauwe, Jan de 159, 172 Grave, Margaret Grupp 95 Gregorios V., patriarh 88 Gregorios, P. Gröbming, Adolf Grocheo, Johannes de Gronow, Pekka Groves, Stephen Grozde, Lojze Gruber, Gernot Gržinčič, Jerko Guido d'Arezzo Guigo (Guigues) Günther, Marc Guy d'Eu 163, Gvido Areški 83 210 274 281, 283, 288, 289 239 211 47, 194, 197 204 glej Gvido Areški 159, 160, 162, 163, 171 102 171 24, 29 Haar, James Haden, Charlie Hadjigiakoumis, Manolis Hafis Hagara (Hagar) Haken, Boris von Hallagoglu, Panagiotes Hammelmann, Hanns Hampe, Max Hanau, Cesare Händel (Handel), Georg Friedrich Hanende, Zaharya Hanisch, Ernst Hanslick, Eduard Härtel, Gottfried Christoph Hartleben, Otto Erich Harvey, Leonard Patrick Hauptmann, Moritz Hausegger, Friedrich von Häusler, Josef Haydn, Joseph Heinemann, Michael Heller-Roazen, Daniel Hentschel, Frank Herder, Johann Gottfried Hermes Heß, Adolf Heyink, Rainer Hiley, David Hiller, Johann Adam 196, 197 61 80, 81, 83, 84 12 81, 91 51 83-86 242 281, 290 213, 218, 219-221 34, 210, 213-218, 221 80 50 49, 253 44 29 81 45, 46 49 58 13, 94-96, 98, 99 46 19, 28 51 112 20, 29, 30 220 214 164, 171 44 Hindemith, Paul Hinkle, Beatrice M. Hirayama, Michiko Hlond, August, kardinal Hoboken, Anthony van Hochkofler Max Hoffmann, E. T. A. Höfler, Janez Hofmann, Steffen Hofmannsthal, Hugo von Hogg, James Holford-Strevens, Leofranc Holy, Ladislav Homer Hook, David Horlitz, Stefan Hottinger, Mary Hourlier, Jacques Hoyer, Matt Hren, Tomaž Hristic, Stevan Hubad, Matej Hugo (Hugh) iz Grenobla Humbert, Jean Pierre Louis Hüschen, Heinrich Hypselantes, Emmanuel 19, 29 243 56 203 95 235, 236 13, 44 304, 306, 307 44 239-249 159, 160, 172 183, 197 243 19 81 45, 46 242 161, 172 284 183 218 281 158 89 159, 172 84 Iakovos of the Peloponnese Iitti, Sanna Illiano, Roberto Inocenc (Innocent) XI., papež Ioannidou, Arsinoi Ioannis Koukouzelis Iommi, Antony Frank „Tony" Irwin, William Ishmael Ismail ibn Jafar Izmael glej Jakob s Peloponeza 232, 236 232 159 82 78 137-143, 145 144 glej Izmael 81 81 Jakob s Peloponeza Janaček, Bedrich Janaček, Leoš Jančar, Drago Janez iz Kastva 87 296 294 - 296, 298 200 300, 304 Janez Krizostom (Zlatousti) Janez Pavel II., papež Jankauskiene, Inga Jardine, Lisa Jean Paul Jeglič, Anton Bonaventura Jencks, Charles Jennens, Charles Jephcott, Edmund Jeppesen, Knud Jeremic-Molnar, Dragana Jermaks, Romualds Jezernik, Božidar Jezus Kristus Jobst, Anton Johannes de Castua Johannes de Garlandia John Chrysostom John of Garland Johnson, Aaron P. Johnson, James H. Johnson, Robert A. Johnston, Richard W. Jolivet, André Jonker, G. H. Jordanoska, Trena Joseph, John Jožef II. Habsburški, cesar Juan Chi Juhant, Janez Jung, Carl Gustav Jung, Werner Jungwirth, Robert Kabelač, Miloslav Kadner, Andreas Kalike, Viktor Kalin, Jeremija Kalninš, Imants Kammel, Antonin Kanach, Sharon Karbusicky, Vladimir 22, 65 211 124 241 44 201, 202, 205, 210 116 218 19, 28 183, 197 228, 230 131, 132, 135 290 21, 22, 30, 34, 59, 79, 87, 167, 194, 200205, 207, 210, 211, 214-218, 248, 260, 282, 297, 304, 305, 307 210 glej Janez iz Kastva 25, 29 glej Janez Krizostom (Zlatousti) glej Johannes de Garlandia 87 226, 227, 230 12 20, 29 14 65, 74 149 99, 158 glej Ruan Ji 200 9, 11, 16, 60, 62, 243 44 55 297, 298 184 53 glej Debeljak, Tine 129, 130, 135 95, 97, 99 55, 57, 58 51 Kastner, Leon Emile Katarina II., ruska cesarica Kaufman Shelemay, Kay Kelly, Alan Kimovec, Franc King, Arthur Archdale Klička, Josef Klobčar, Marija Klöckner, Martin Klopstock, Friedrich Gottlieb Kluge, Friedrich Kolar, Bogdan Kolleritsch, Otto Komarovski, Stanislav Komensky, Jan Arnos Kopernik, Nikolaj Koskoff, Ellen Kosmas of Macedonia Kostadinovski, Kostadin Koter, Darja Koukal, Petr Kovačič, Mojca Kozma iz Makedonije Kramer, Elisabeth A. Kranemann, Benedikt Krapež, Milk Kress, Thomas Kretzschmar, Hermann Kriaras, Emmanuel Krishna Krišna Krstulovic, Zoran Kručonih (Kruchenyky), Aleksej Jelisejevič Kunej, Drago Kunze, Stefan Kuret, Niko Kutavičius, Bronius Kyrillos of Marmara Lahickey, Beth Lambert, Kraus Lambres, Benoit Lampsatis, Raminta Landon, H. C. Robbins 88 33 39 281, 288, 290 20, 204, 206-209, 212 160, 172 296, 298 286, 290 160, 171 44, 218, 221 55, 61 200 57 210 297 241 35, 40 glej Kozma iz Makedonije 74 305-307 295 286, 290 83 226-230 160, 171 286 161 46, 48, 50 81 glej Krišna 147-154, 156 252 18, 29 281, 290 94 284, 286, 290 111-115, 117, 123-125 glej Ciril iz Marmare 149, 155 95, 97, 99 160, 172 113 96 Langer, Hermann 46 Laodzi (Lao Ce) 53 Laozi glej Laodzi (Lao Ce) LaRue, Jan 97, 183, 197 Lasmanis, Imants 133 Lasso, Orlando di 182, 194, 196-198 Lavric, Anton 204 Lavric, Vinko 29, 210 Lebic, Lojze 101, 104, 106, 108, 110-114, 116-119, 121, 123-125 Lébl, Vladimir 294 Leclercq, Henri 159, 161, 171 Lederer, Josef-Horst 220 Lenin, Vladimir Iljic Uljânov 129-131 Leo VI the Wise glej Leon VI. Modri Leon VI. Modri, bizantinski cesar 82 Leonin 23 Leopold, Silke 214, 218 Lessing, Gotthold Ephraim 10 Lewis, Bernard 78 Ligeti, György 273, 275 - 278 Lippmann, Friedrich 216 Lippus, Urve 113, 122-124 Liszt, Franz 49 Locke, John 36 Lockwood, Lewis 183, 197 Loos, Helmut 44, 49, 51 Lotze, Rudolf Hermann 46 Ludvovâ, Jitka 294 Lüneburg, Barbara 54 Lutoslawski, Witold 252 Lydon, John 148 Mâcha, Otmar 297, 298 Macque, Giovanni de 184 Macy, Laura 159, 171, 230 Magalhäes, Filipe de 197 Mahäprabhu, Caitanya 148, 150, 152 Mähder, Jürgen 218, 219 Mahler, Gustav 69, 221 Mahmud I., sultan 85 Maione, Rino 219 Maître, Claire 163, 170, 172 Majcen, Stanko 269 Makarijoska, Liljana 64, 75 Maksim Spoznavalec 85 Malevič (Malevich), Kazimir 19, 29 Malinowski, Bronislaw 245 Mallach, Alan 219, 220 Maniates, Maria Rika 35 Marazzoli, Marco 214 Maria (Mary) glej Marija Maria Casimira glej Marija Kazimira Maria Maddalena glej Marija Magdalena Marija 59, 203, 206, 215, 216, 307, 308 Marija Kazimira, poljska kraljica 214 Marija Magdalena 215, 216 Marolt, Franjo 204 Marrou, Henri Irenee 171 Martelanc, Ivan 200-203, 206, 207, 210 Martinis, Luciano 55 Martinu, Bohuslav 295, 298 Marx, Hans Joachim 215-217 Mascagni, Pietro 219 Maslow, Abraham 8, 15, 16 Massenkeil, Günther 218 Matej, evangelist 164 Mathiesen, Thomas J. 86, 214 Matjan, Fran 281 Mattei, Stanislao 94 Mattheson, Johann 94, 274 Matthew glej Matej, evangelist Maximus the Confessor glej Maksim Spoznavalec Mayrhofer, Johann Baptist 12 McHale, Brian 116 McIver, Joel 142, 144 Meck, Nadežda F. von 33 Mehner, Klaus 47 Melik, Vasilij 202 Mendelssohn Bartholdy, Felix 45 Menih iz Parkminstra 163, 172 Menke, Johannes 59, 60 Metod (Methodius), 64, 74, 75, 210 Metzinger, Joseph P. 170 Michael of Chios glej Mihael s Chiosa Michaelis, Christian Friedrich 45 Michälkovä Slimäčkovä, Jana 295 Michelangelo 133 Middell, Eike 234, 236 Migne, Jacques Paul Mihael s Chiosa Mirabdolbaghi, Zia Mizler, Lorenz Mlinaric, Jože Mohamed Mojzes (Moses) Monk of Parkminster Monson, Craig A. Monte, Philipp de Moore, James H. Moore, Ryan M. Moreau, François-Xavier Morrow, Mary Sue Motte, Andrew Motte-Haber, Helga de la Mottl, Felix Moulin, Léo Moustier, Benoît du Mozart, Leopold Mozart, Wolfgang Amadeus Müller, Ulrich Mulroy, David Munih, Marko Murail, Tristan Myslivecek (Myslivechek), Josef 85, 161, 172 82 82 44 159, 172 81 10 glej Menih iz Parkminstra 196, 197 184 184, 197 141, 144 206 94, 96, 216, 230 17, 29 56, 57 233, 236 159, 172 161, 172 95, 96, 99 11-13, 34, 35, 67, 91, 94, 96, 99, 235 50 20, 29 271 57 35 Nagode, Aleš Nečak, Dušan Neefe, Christian Gottlob Negris, Theodoros Nettl, Bruno Netz, Indras Neukomm, Sigismund von Newman, Ernest Newmarch, Rosa Newton, Isaac Nicodemus, menih urednik Niehrenheim, Georg Nietzsche, Friedrich Nikefor (Nikephoros) Kantouniares z Iosa Nikodem (Nikodemus) Nikodem Hagiorit (Nikodemos the Hagiorite) 16, 30, 42, 62, 75, 91, 135, 145, 156, 221, 230, 237, 249, 282, 290, 298 202 49 90 42 15, 16 218 232, 233, 236 32 17, 29, 241 90 48 239-241, 243-245 87- 91 216 86 Nikolovski, Marjan Nilsson, Nils Martin Persson Nono, Luigi Novak, Vitezslav Nuittier, Charles O'Sullivan, Luke Oblak, Alfons Olexy, Ronald T. Op de Coul, Paul Op de Coul, Thomas Orfej Orpheus Orselli, Cesare Ortakov, Dragoslav Osbourne, John Michael „Ozzy" Osers, Ewald Osterc, Slavko Otto, Rudolf Ottoboni, Pietro Ouspensky Ovid Paisij (Paisios) II., carigrajski patriarh Paix, Jacob Palestrina, Giovanni Pierluigi da Pamphili, Benedetto Panagl, Victoria Panofsky, Ervin Papadopoulos, Georgios Park, Crystal L. Parker, Roger Patrinelis, Christos Paul, Oskar Paulauskis, Linas Pavel (Paul), apostol Pečnik, L. Pellegrini, Alessandra Carlotta Pennanen, Risto Perotin Perovšek, Jurij Pesce, Dolores Peterson, Brian Petipa, Marius 73 86 58, 61, 219 295, 298 236 90 280, 290 170 275, 276 159 300 glej Orfej 219, 220 65, 75 137, 139-143, 145 242 252 247 215, 216 glej Uspenski, Pjotr D. 44, 232 84 182 183, 184, 197 216 183, 197 300 84 14 239 80 46 114, 115 21, 22, 30, 167, 168 205 55 283, 290 25, 26, 27, 30 200, 202 24, 29 149, 155 232 Petric, Ivo 253 Petros s Peloponeza (of Peloponnese) 80 Petrov, Ana 224, 230 Petrovska, Nadezhda 73 Philips, Tom 300 Phillips, William 134, 145 Philolaus glej Filolaj Picard, Jean 159, 172 Piccinni, Niccolo 95, 98 Pieper, Antje 228, 230 Pij X., papež 205 Pij XII., papež 201 Pilkova, Zdenka 97 Piron, Harald 14 Pitagora 20, 85 Plänsky, Bohumil 294 Platon (Plato) 20 Plemmenos, John 80, 83, 87 Poehm, Mathias 97 Polinejk 259 Pololänik, Zdenek 297, 298 Polynices glej Polinejk Polzer, Berno Odo 62 Pontio, Pietro 182, 197 Popescu-Judetz, Eugenia 83-85 Popoff, Martin 139, 141-143, 145 Porter, Andrew 29 Portowitz, Adena 32 Potocco, Marcello 123 Potočnik, Blaž 282 Potter, Pamela M. 50 Povhe, Josip 281, 287 Prabhupäda, A. C. Bhaktivedanta Swami 148, 149, 151, 153, 155 Praz, Mario 13 Prelovec, Zorko 207, 210 Premrl, Stanko 204, 206-208, 210 Premrov, Josip 202 Prezioni, Donald 230 Prieberg, Fred K. 51 Primavera, Giovan Leonardo 184 Prokofjev (Prokofiev), Sergej 66, 67 Prokopiev, Trajko 65 Prüfer, Hermann Bernhard Arthur 4 CO 5 Psevdo-Dionizij (Dionysius) Areopagit 304 Puccini, Giacomo 218-220 Puffett, Derrick 274 Pusey, Edward Bouverie 25, 28 Puš, Ludovik (Ludvik) 24, 206-208, 210 Pythagoras glej Pitagora Quitschreiber, Georg 182, 183 Račič, Ivan 283, 284, 286 -291 Rameau, Jean-Philippe 66 Ramler, Karl Wilhelm 218 Ramovš, Fran 260 Ramovš, Primož 251-254, 256-260, 265, 271, 272 Ratner, Leonard G. 231, 236 Ravel, Maurice 66 Ravnihar, Vladimir 202 Rebling, Eberhard 44 Recknagel, Marion 45, 46 Redhouse, James 83 Rees, Owen 183, 197 Reger, Max 47 Reggio, Hoste da 184 Reid, James H. 244 Reimer, Erich 46 Reiner, Jacob 184 Reischert, Alexander 218 Reish, Gregory 57, 61 Rejšek, Radek 297, 298 Reynolds, John F. 44 Rice, Richard 170 Riemann, Hugo 46-51 Riepe, Juliane 214, 215, 217 Rieuwerts, Sigrid 112 Rihar, Gregor 208, 282 Rijavec, Andrej 16, 212, 291 Ritzarev, Marina 32, 33 Rivera, Benito V. 214 Rizos-Neroulos, Iakovos 89 Robinson, J. Bradford 274 Rochlitz, Friedrich 44, 45 Rojko, Uroš 101-105, 108, 110 Ronsard, Pierre 133 Root, Deane 97 Rosand, Ellen 214-217 Rosen, Charles Rosen, Steven J. Rousseau, Jean-Baptiste Rousseau, Jean-Jacques Roussel, Albert Rovetta, Giovanni Ro2man, Gregorij Ruan Ji Rubsamen, Walter H. Rückert, Friedrich Rüdiger, Wolfgang Rumi, Rummenhöller, Peter Rus, Marjan Ruspoli, Francesco Maria Rutherford-Johnson, Tim Ryle, Gilbert Sadie, Stanley Said, Edward Salecl, Renata Salter, Lionel Samson, Jim Sandberger, Adolf Santacroce, Girolamo da Sara (Sarah) Sardenko, Silvin Sattner, Hugolin Savel (Saul), judovski kralj Scarlatti, Alessandro Scelsi, Giacinto Scelsi, Isabella Schäfer, Frank Schäfer, Thomas Scheibe, Johann Adolph Scheideler, Ulrich Schein, Johann Hermann Schering, Arnold Schiller, Friedrich Schleiermacher, Friedrich Schleuning, Peter Schmid ml., Bernhardt Schneider, Klaus Schönberg (Schoenberg), Arnold 109 154, 155 88, 89 36 218 184, 197 201, 205, 210 20 183, 198 12 104 12 13 210 214, 215, 221 54 241 306, 307 246 104, 105 236 230 194, 198 305 81 206 283 102 214, 215 53-62, 102 55 137, 145 62 94 214, 218 48, 49 50 10, 11 11, 12 44 184 221 14, 18, 28, 30, 109, 234, 274 Schopenhauer, Arthur 49, 50, 239, 241 Schröder, Heribert 51 Schröder-Devrient, Wilhelmine 234 Schubert, Franz 12, 109 Schultz, Wolfgang-Andreas 14 Schulz, J. A. P. 94 Schumann, Robert 12, 44-46, 109 Schütz, Heinrich 49, 218 Seebold, Elmar 55 Seedorf, Thomas 214, 2115 Seidel, Willhelm 45-47 Seld, Georg Sigismund 194 Serafim (Seraphim) iz Mytilene 82 Sermisy, Claudin de 182, 197 Seroussi, Edwin 32 Shakespeare, William 133 Shankar, Ravi 56 Shaw, Ezel Kural 82 Shaw, Stanford J. 82 Sheinberg, Esti 32 Shigihara, Susanne 47 Shmailo, Larissa 18, 29 Silesius, Angelus 9 Silverthorne, Michael 241 Simčič, Zorko 269 Sinopoli, Giuseppe 236 Skalovski, Todor 65 Slimaček, Milan 297, 298 Smetana, Bedrich 295, 296, 298 Smith, William Robertson 18, 29 Sofronios 87, 89, 90 Sojar Voglar, Črt 101, 104, 107-110, 278 Sokola, Miloš 297, 298 Sommer, Heinz-Dieter 46 Sophocles, Evangelinus Apostolides 81 Sorba, Carlotta 220 Sowodniok, Ulrike 58 Spencer, Herbert 49 Spinoza, Baruch 10 Spontini, Gasparo 232, 237 Spontone, Bartolomeo 181, 183. 186-190, 192, 195, 198 Spottswood, Richard 283, 289, 290 Stalin, Josif Visarijonovič 129 Stamenkovska - Durlovska, Ana 73 Stanford, Charles V. Stathis (Stathes), Gregorios Stegnar, Vinko Steinberg, Michael Steiner, Franz Steiner, Herbert Steiner, Rudolf Steiner, Ruth Stenzl, Jürg Stephan, Inge Stephan, Rudolph Stern, James Stern, Tania Stiebler, Ernstalbrecht Stieve, Friedrich Stockhausen, Karlheinz Strauss, Richard Stravinski (Strawinski, Stravinsky), Igor Streicher, Johannes Striggio, Alessandro Strniša, Gregor Stupples, Peter Stuppner, Hubert Suzana (Susanna), biblijska žena 218 82, 84 281 239, 240 18, 29 240, 241, 244 57 170 219 55 275 242, 243 242, 243 55 245 56, 274 14, 239-242, 244-246, 248, 249 14, 18, 28, 30, 66, 68 219 181, 184-192, 194-198 117 19, 29 58 167 Šebenik, Dragotin 281 Škafar, Vinko 200 Škulj, Edo 200, 202 Šlechta, Milan 294 Šramel Vučina, Urška 209 Šušteršič, Ivan 202 Tansman, Alexandre Tarasti, Eero Tarr, Edward H. Tasev, Ivana Taylor, Barry Tchaikovsky, Modest Tchaikovsky, Peter Tedeschi, Richard G. Teml, Jin Teodor iz Fokaje Teofanes I. Karikes Teokrit 218 113, 124 307 73, 74 81 glej Čajkovski, Modest glej Čajkovski, Peter Iljič 14 297, 298 83 80-82 232 Teon iz Smirne Terzi, Giovanni Antonio Theocharopoulos, George Theocritus Theodoros of Phocaea Theon Theophanes Karykes Thom, Eitelfriedrich Thomas, Christian Gottfried Till, Nicholas Tinctoris, Johannes Tintoretto, Domenico Tintoretto, Jacopo Tito Tolstoj (Tolstoy), Lev Nikolajevič Tomc, Matija Tormis, Veljo Treitler, Leo Tripuräri, Swämi B.V. Trošt, Jože Tziovas, Dimitris Ukmar, Vilko Uspenski, Pjotr D. Utz, Christian Vaet, Jacobus van Deusen, Nancy Elizabeth Vanhal, Johan Baptist Vaydman, Polina Velimirovic, Miloš Venera Venus Verdi, Giuseppe Vicentino, Nicola Vičar, Jan Villon, Francoise Vit, Petr Vivaldi, Antonio Vodopivec, Peter Vremšak, Samo Vulc, Tadeja 20 184 88 glej Teokrit glej Teodor iz Fokaje glej Teon iz Smirne glej Teofanes I. Karikes 214 44 239 182, 198 302, 307 307 glej Broz - Tito, Josip 2213, 218-221 204, 207, 210 111-115, 117, 122-125 23, 29, 30 155 251, 260-265, 272 87 210 19 56, 60 194 94-96, 98, 99 33 78 231-237 glej Venera 71, 232 182, 198 294, 295 133 294 91 200 251, 258, 265, 268-272 273, 276 - 278 Waczkat, Andreas 182, 194, 198 Wagner, Peter 183 Wagner, Richard 13, 48-50, 66, 209, 210, 228, 231-237, 239, 240, 242, 243, 249 Walter, Michael 220 Wapnewski, Peter 50 Ward, William Thomas "Bill" 137, 145 Warner, Rex 22, 28 Waterhouse, John C. G. 219 Weber, William 223, 224, 226, 228, 230 Weinstein, Deena 143, 145 Wellesz, Egon 79 Wendt, Amadeus 45 Wickstrom, John B. 160, 172 Wiedermann, Bedrich Antonin 296, 298 Wilber, Ken 7, 8, 15, 16 Will, Richard 96 Willaert, Adrian 183, 197 Williams, Edward V. 82 Winternitz, Emanuel 300 Wirtz, Ursula 14 Witte, Bernd 44 Wolf, Eugene K. 97 Wolff, Hellmuth Christian 182, 198 Wollny, Peter 218 Wolzogen, Hans von 48 Wood, Robert T. 149, 155 Wyttenbach, Jürg 107 Yudkin, Jeremy 25, 30 Zadnikar, Marijan 304 Zajc, Franc 286 Zakrajsek, Odilo 284, 286, 289-291 Zalman, Schneur 40 Zarins, Margeris 133, 135 Zarlino, Gioseffo 182, 198 Zaslaw, Neal 94, 99 Zavrsan, Ivan 281 Zdesar, Ivan 24, 207 Ziedonis, Imants 129 Zimmermann, Heidi 38 Zografski, Tomislav 65, 66, 74 Zschoch, Frieder 214 Žitko, Duška 307 Žitko, Stanislav 203 Živanovic, Dragoljub 209 Žižek, Slavoj 109 Žuraj, Vito 101, 102, 104, 105, 108, 110 Avtorji • Contributors Matjaž BARBO (matjaz.barbo@gmail.com) je zaposlen na Oddelku za muzikologijo na Filozofski fakulteti Univerze v Ljubljani, od leta 2010 kot redni profesor. Predaval je na več univerzah (Gradec, Brno, Leipzig, Salzburg). Njegove raziskave se osredotočajo na glasbo od 18. stoletja do danes, zlasti v povezavi s slovenskim kulturnim življenjem. Poleg tega njegovi raziskovalni interesi vključujejo vprašanja povezana z estetiko in sociologijo glasbe. Matjaž BARBO (matjaz.barbo@gmail.com) works in the Department of Musicol-ogy at the Faculty of Arts of the University of Ljubljana, since 2010 as a full professor. He has lectured at different universities (Graz, Brno, Leipzig, Salzburg). His research focuses on music from the 18th century to the present, especially when connected with Slovenian cultural life. Besides that, his research interests include questions linked to aesthetics and sociology of music. Marc BROOKS (skoorbcram@hotmail.com88) je pravkar končal svoj doktorski študij na King's College London. Njegova disertacija raziskuje interakcijo med znanostjo in religijo v operah Wozzeck in Arabella. Potem ko je začel svojo akademsko pot z diplomama iz matematike in fizike, želi z nadaljnjimi raziskavami premoščati vrzel med humanistiko in naravoslovjem. Med njimi so raziskave povezav med matematičnim in glasbenim modernizmom, okoljska kritika in glasbene predstavitve narave. Marc BROOKS (skoorbcram@hotmail.com88) has just completed an AHRC-funded PhD at King's College London. His dissertation explores the interaction between science and religion in the operas Wozzeck and Arabella. Having begun his academic career with a degree in mathematics and physics, his current research interests display a similar desire to bridge the gap between humanities and the sciences. These include: the link between mathematical and musical modernism, ecocriticism, and musical representations of nature. Janet DANIELSON (jrd@sfu.ca) je skladateljica in glasbena teoretičarka. Njen opus obsega vse zvrsti, vključno z opero The Marvelous History of Mariken of Nimmigen. Razvila je spletno verzijo svojega uvoda v osnove glasbe, ki je bil v tekstovni in elektronski obliki dvakrat nominiran za državne nagrade. Objavljala je prispevke o ženskah v glasbi, glasbi in zgodovini tehnologije in harmonski podlagi za linearno perspektivo. Janet DANIELSON (jrd@sfu.ca) is a composer and music theorist. She has composed for most genres including an opera, The Marvelous History of Mariken of Nimmigen. She has developed an online version of her Music Fundamentals course, twice nominated for national awards, as well as a text, Basic Organization of Music. She has published articles on women and music, music and the history of technology, and the harmonic basis of linear perspective. Mike DINES (miked71uk@yahoo.co.uk) je doktoriral na Univerzi v Salfordu. Pri raziskovalnem delu se usmerja predvsem k zgodovinskemu kontekstu panka. Sodeloval je pri pripravi antologije anarho-panka v osemdesetih letih in raziskoval sodobno glo-balizacijo panka. Je soustanovitelj The Punk Scholars Network. Sodeloval je na številnih konferencah v Združenem kraljestvu, med katerimi velja omeniti predvsem IASPM-UK. Mike DINES (miked71uk@yahoo.co.uk) completed his doctorate at The University of Salford. His primarily research focuses upon historical contexts of punk, and previous projects include edited anthologies on the UK anarcho-punk scene of the 1980s, and the contemporary globalisation of punk. He is co-founder of The Punk Scholars Network, and has presented his ideas across several conferences within the UK, most notably at IASPM-UK. Charris EFTHIMIOU (charis.ef@gmail.com) je bil rojen v Grčiji. Magistriral je na Univerzi za umetnosti v Gradcu pri B. Furrerju in G. F. Haasu. Doktoriral je pod mentorstvom Petra Reversa. Od 2012 je višji predavatelj glasbene zgodovine in teorije na Univerzi za umetnosti v Gradcu. Izdal je monografijo o riffih pri Metalici ter krajše prispevke o R. Wagnerju, simfoničnih delih A. Honeggerja, L. Janačka, J. S. Mayra, trio sonatah J. L. Krebsa in o Heavy Metal glasbi. Charris EFTHIMIOU (charis.ef@gmail.com) was born in Greece. Master in Composition at the Music University in Graz (KUG) under B. Furrer and G. F. Haas. PhD under Prof. Dr. Peter Revers. Since 2012 Senior Lecturer (KUG) on music history and music theory. Monograph on Metallica's Riffs. Publications on R. Wagner, the symphonic work of A. Honegger, L. Janacek, J. S. Mayr, trio sonatas of J. L. Krebs and on Heavy Metal. Klemen GRABNAR (klemen.grabnar@zrc-sazu.si) je asistent na Muzikološkem inštitutu ZRC SAZU. Leta 2009 je za diplomsko delo »Primerjalna analiza traktov osmega modusa: Vpogled v snovanje gregorijanskih melodij« prejel študentsko Prešernovo nagrado Filozofske fakultete. Kot mladi raziskovalec v okviru doktorske disertacije raziskuje parodične maše v Hrenovih kornih knjigah. Trenutno je član nacionalnega odbora RILM za Slovenijo in vodja slovenske delovne skupine RISM. Klemen GRABNAR (klemen.grabnar@zrc-sazu.si) is an assistant at the Institute of Musicology, Scientific Research Centre of the Slovenian Academy of Sciences and Arts (Ljubljana). In 2009, his diploma dissertation on eighth-mode tracts brought him the Faculty's Student Prešeren Prize. As a young researcher he is working on his PhD dissertation titled "Parody Masses in Hren's Choirbooks". He is presently a member of the RILM National Committee of Slovenia and a leader of the Slovenian RISM Working Group. Peter GRUM (peter.grum@ff.uni-lj.si) je diplomiral na Oddelku za geografijo (2002) in Oddelku za muzikologijo Filozofske Fakultete UL (2003). Od takrat dela kot bibliotekar v knjižnici Oddelka za muzikologijo. Leta 2011 je začel delati kot raziskovalni asistent. Raziskovalno se usmerja v teme s področja slovenske glasbe. Vključen je v raziskovalni projekt Slovenska glasbena dela po letu 1918. Peter GRUM (peter.grum@ff.uni-lj.si) graduated from the Faculty of Arts, Department of Geography (2002) and Department of Musicology (2003). He works as a librarian at the Department of Musicology at the Faculty of Arts. In 2011 he started working as a research assistant. His research focuses on Slovenian music . He's involved in research project Slovenian musical works after 1918. Thomas HOCHRADNER (thomas.hochradner@moz.ac.at), izredni profesor za historično muzikologijo, je zaposlen na Univerzi za glasbo Mozarteum v Salzburgu. Je član Instituta za recepcijo in interpretacijo glasbe in njegov prvi direktor. V svojih predavanjih in objavah se večinoma ukvarja z zgodovino glasbe od 17. do 20. stoletja, zlasti v zvezi z glasbeno filologijo, zgodovino recepcije v glasbi, baročni in tradicionalni glasbi. Je avtor številnih člankov in urednik več knjig. Thomas HOCHRADNER (thomas.hochradner@moz.ac.at), Associated Professor for Historical Musicology, is employed at the University of Music Mozarteum in Salzburg. He is member of the Institute for Reception and Interpretation of Music and has been its first director. In his lectures and publications he mainly deals with the history of music of the 17th to the 20th century, especially referring to musical philology, the history of reception in music, baroque and traditional music. He is author of numerous articles and editor of several books. Sanna K. IITTI (sanna.iitti@gmail.com) je neodvisna raziskovalka. Diplomirala je v Univerzi v New Yorku in dalj časa delovala kot raziskovalka v ZDA, Nemčiji, Veliki Britaniji, Grčiji, na Švedskem in Finskem. Ukvarja se predvsem z raziskovanjem glasbene zgodovine, kritike feminizma in semiotične analiza glasbenih toposov. Sanna K. IITTI (sanna.iitti@gmail.com) is an independent Finnish research professor. She graduated from New York University and has carried out her musicological research in the United States, Germany and the U.K. besides Finland, Greece and Sweden. Her research revolves around music's historiography, feminist criticism and the semiotic analysis of musical topics. Julija JONANE (julija.jonane@gmail.com, www.julijajonane.com) je bila rojena v Daugavpils (Latvija). Študirala je na Latvijski glasbeni akademiji Jazeps Vitols, na Oddelku za muzikologijo, kjer od 2009 tudi predava. Istega leta je obranila doktorsko tezo Latvijski duhovni žanri. Središče raziskovalnega zanimanja: duhovna glasba - žanri, skladatelji, nacionalne razlike in analiza. Svoje izsledke je predstavila v Latviji, Litvi, na Poljskem, v Veliki Britaniji, na Irskem in v Sloveniji. Julija JONANE (julija.jonane@gmail.com,_www.julijajonane.com) musicologist, Dr. art. Born in Daugavpils, Latvia. Studied at the Jazeps Vitols Latvian Academy of Music Department of Musicology; since 2009 - lectured. In 2009 successfully defended doctoral thesis Latvian Sacred Genres. Scientific interests: sacred music - genres, composers, denominational differences and analysis. Papers were presented in Latvia, Lithuania, Poland, UK, Ireland, Slovenia. Trena JORDANOSKA (trenajordanoska@t-home.mk) je muzikologinja in docentka na Univerzi sv. Cirila in Metoda, Fakulteta za glasbo v Skopju in na Fakulteti za umetnosti Univerze v Nišu. Poučuje estetiko in sociologijo glasbe, sonologijo in multimedijo ter vokalno literaturo. Kot prva laureatka je dobila nagrado "Tomislav Zografski" na svoji matični ustanovi. Je tudi upravljalec spletišča BuzAr site: http://mmc.edu.mk. Trena JORDANOSKA (trenajordanoska@t-home.mk) is a musicologist and assistant professor at University Ss. Cyril and Methodius, Faculty of Music, Skopje, Macedonia and University of Niš, Faculty of Arts, Serbia, teaching aesthetics and sociology of music, sonology and multimedia, and vocal literature. She received the first "Tomislav Zografski Award" at UKIM FM. She is the web administrator of the BuzAr site: http://mmc.edu.mk. Darja KOTER (darja.koter@siol.net) je redna profesorica za zgodovino glasbe na Akademiji za glasbo Univerze v Ljubljani. Raziskovalno se ukvarja s historičnimi instrumenti, glasbeno ikonografijo, zgodovino glasbene pedagogike in glasbenih društev ter z opusi slovenskih skladateljev. Sodeluje v raziskovalnih projektih Univerze v Bonnu in Univerze v Ljubljani. Monografije: Glasbilarstvo na Slovenskem (2001, 2004), Musica coe-lestis et musica profana. Glasbeni motivi v likovni dediščini od severne Istre do Vremske doline (2008), Slovenska glasba 1848-1918 (2012), Slovenska glasba 1918-1991 (2012). Darja KOTER (darja.koter@siol.net) is full professor at the Ljubljana University, Academy of Music. Research works on various topics like history of musical instruments, music iconography, music education and societies and about works of composers. Collaboration in research projects of the University of Bonn and of the University of Ljubljana. Monographs: Glasbilarstvo na Slovenskem (2001, 2004), Musica coelestis et musica profana. Glasbeni motivi v likovni dediščini od severne Istre do Vremske doline (2008), Slovenska glasba 1848-1918 (2012), Slovenska glasba 1918-1991 (2012). Drago KUNEJ (drago.kunej@zrc-sazu.si) je diplomiral je na Fakulteti za elektrotehniko in računalništvo v Ljubljani ter magistriral in doktoriral na Akademiji za glasbo Univerze v Ljubljani s področja akustike. Zaposlen je na Glasbenonarodop-isnem inštitutu ZRC SAZU kot vodja zvočnega arhiva, predava pa tudi na Akademiji za glasbo in Oddelku za muzikologijo Filozofske fakultete Univerze v Ljubljani. Področje raziskovanja: preučevanje in zaščito, konzerviranje, restavriranje, dokumentiranje, presnemavanje in arhiviranje zvočnega gradiva; raziskovanje tehničnih in metodoloških postopkov zvočnega snemanja; preučevanje prvih etnomuzikoloških zvočnih posnetkov. Drago KUNEJ (drago.kunej@zrc-sazu.si) graduated from Faculty of electrical engineering and computer science at University of Ljubljana. His postgraduate studies at Academy of Music were in the field of acoustics. He is researcher at the Institute of Ethnomusicology (Research Centre of the Slovenian Academy of Sciences and Arts). He also lectures at Academy of Music and Department of Musicology, Faculty of Arts, both at University of Ljubljana. Scientific interests: conservation, study, restoration, processing, systematization and preservation of sound material; use and interpretation of sound recording; history of sound documentation in Slovenia. Helmut LOOS (hloos@rz.uni-leipzig.de) je študiral glasbeno pedagogiko, muzikologijo, umetnostno zgodovino in filozofijo na Univerzi v Bonnu. Leta 1980 je doktoriral, leta 1989 pa bil habilitiran. Deloval je na univerzah v Bonnu in Chemnitzu ter bil direktor Inštituta za nemško glasbo na Vzhodu v Bergisch Gladbachu. Od oktobra 2001 je profesor na Univerzi v Leipzigu, od 2003 do 2005 dekan fakultete za zgodovino, umetnost in orientalistiko Univerze v Leipzigu. Helmut LOOS (hloos@rz.uni-leipzig.de) studied music education, musicology, art history and philosophy at the University of Bonn; doctorate 1980, senior doctorate (Dr. habil.) 1989. He worked at universities in Bonn and Chemnitz and was director of the Institute of German Music in the Eastern Regions in Bergisch Gladbach. Since October 2001 he is full professor at Leipzig University. Dean of the Department of History, Art History and Oriental Studies at the Leipzig University between 2003 and 2005. Jana MICHALKOVA SLIMAČKOVA (slimackova@jamu.cz) je študirala muzikologijo in estetiko na Filozofski fakulteti Masarykove univerze v Brnu (Češka Republika). Od 1997 je predavateljica na Fakulteti za glasbo in predstavljajočo umetnost Janačkove akademije za glasbo in predstavljajočo umetnost v Brnu. Ukvarja se predvsem z glasbo od 17. do 19. stoletja in glasbo za instrumente s tipkami. Jana MICHALKOVA SLIMAČKOVA (slimackova@jamu.cz) studied musicology and aesthetics at the Faculty of Arts, Masaryk University, Brno, Czech Republic. From 1997 until now she has been employed as a lecturer at the Faculty of Music, Janaček Academy of Music and Performing Arts, Brno. As a musicologist she specializes in the music of the 17th - 19th centuries and keyboard music. Ana PETROV (anapetrov82@gmail.com) je doktorirala iz sociologije na Oddelku za sociologijo Filozofske fakultete Univerze v Beogradu. Magistrirala je iz muzikologi-je in sociologije. Njeno raziskovanje se usmerja predvsem v estetiko, kulturološke študije, feministično sociologijo, študije spola, postkolonialne študije, sociolingvistiko, sociologijo umetnosti, sociologijo telesa, sociologijo kulture, sociologijo glasbe in družbeno teorijo. Ana PETROV (anapetrov82@gmail.com) received Ph.D. in sociology from the Sociology Department at the Faculty of Philosophy, University of Belgrade. She holds master degrees in musicology and in sociology. Her interests include: aesthetics, cultural history, feminist sociology, gender studies, postcolonial studies, sociolinguistics, sociology of art, sociology of body, sociology of culture, sociology of music, social theory. John G. PLEMMENOS (jplemmenos@hotmail.com) je študiral pravo na Univerzi v Atenah, nato pa magistriral in doktoriral iz etnomuzikologije na Univerzi v Cambrid-geu. Predaval je na različnih grških univerzah in bil leta 2008 izvoljen za raziskovalnega sodelavca Raziskovalnega centra za helensko folkloro Akademije v Atenah. Objavil je štiri odmevne monografije in več člankov v različnih revijah in zbornikih. John G. PLEMMENOS (jplemmenos@hotmail.com) has studied Law at the University of Athens, and holds an MPhil and PhD in Ethnomusicology from the University in Cambridge, UK. He has taught as a Lecturer in Greek universities (University of the Aegean, University of Crete, Ionian University, University of the Peloponnese, Hellenic Open University), and in 2008 he was elected Research Fellow at the Hellenic Folklore Research Centre of the Academy of Athens. He has published four monographs, and several articles in various collections and periodicals. Gregor POMPE (gregor.pompe@ff.uni-lj.si) predava kot izredni profesor na Oddelku za muzikologijo Filozofske fakultete Univerze v Ljubljani. Predaval je tudi na Pedagoški fakulteti v Mariboru in na Univerzi Karla-Franza v Gradcu. Za svoje muzikološko delo je prejel Mantuanijevo priznanje in priznanje Filozofske fakultete za izjemno pedagoško delo. Med letom 2008 in 2012 je bil predsednik Slovenskega muzikološkega društva, od leta 2012 pa je predstojnik Oddelka za muzikologijo. Dejaven je tudi kot glasbeni kritik in skladatelj, njegova osrednja raziskovalna področja pa so semantika glasbe, sodobna glasba in opera. Gregor POMPE (gregor.pompe@ff.uni-lj.si) works as Associated Professor at the Faculty of Arts of University of Ljubljana. He also taught at the Pedagogical Faculty in Maribor and at the Karl-Franzens-University in Graz. He received the Mantuani Award for his musicological work and the Faculty Award for exceptional pedagogical work. He was President of the Slovenian Musicological Society (2008-2012) and from 2012 he holds the chair of the Department of Musicology at the Faculty of Arts of University of Ljubljana. He is also active as music critic and composer. His main research interests are musical semantics, contemporary music and opera. Elfriede REISSIG (geb. Moschitz) (elfriede.moschitz@yahoo.de) je bila rojena v Gradcu. Študirala je etnologijo Evrope in filozofijo na Univerzi Karla-Franza in zborovsko dirigiranje in petje na Univerzi za glasbo in predstavljajočo umetnost v Gradcu. Raziskovalno se je izpopolnjevala v Archivio Luigi Nono v Benetkah, doktorirala je z odliko. Leta 2006 je ustanovila vokalno skupino Chiaroscuro. Elfriede REISSIG (geb. Moschitz) (elfriede.moschitz@yahoo.de) Born in Graz/ Austria. Studies: Ethnology Europea and Philosophy at Karl-Franzens-University, Graz; Choral Conducting and Singing at the University of Music and Dramatic Arts, Graz. Several research stays at the Archivio Luigi Nono in Venice, Italy, doctoral viva passed with Excellence. In 2006 founding of the a-cappella ensemble Chiaroscuro. Marina RITZAREV (ritzam@mail.biu.ac.il) je izraelska muzikologinja ruskega porekla. Prispevala je k raziskovanju ruske glasbe 18. st., zlasti vokalnega duhovnega koncerta. Je avtorica Eighteenth-Century Russian Music (Ashgate 2006), Tchaikovsky's Pathétique and Russian Culture (Ashgate 2014) in drugih knjig, pa tudi več odmevnih člankov, v katerih razvija teorijo ljudskega v glasbi. Je tudi predsednica Izraelskega muzikološkega društva. Marina RITZAREV (ritzam@mail.biu.ac.il) is an Israeli musicologist of Russian background. She has contributed to research in eighteenth-century Russian music, including study of choral spiritual concerto. She is the author of Eighteenth-Century Russian Music (Ashgate 2006), Tchaikovsky's Pathétique and Russian Culture (Ashgate 2014) and other books, as well as of articles developing the theory of vernacular in music. She is President of the Israeli Musicological Society. Wolfgang-Andreas SCHULTZ (wolfgang-A.Schultz@t-online.de) je bil rojen v Hamburgu. Študiral je muzikologijo in filozofijo, nato kompozicijo pri Gyorgyju Ligeti-ju, 1977 je postal njegov asistent, leta 1988 profesor za glasbeno teorijo in kompozicijo v Hamburgu. Zadnje izdaje: knjiga „Avantgarde. Trauma. Spritualitat", CD „Japanische Landschaften". www.WolfgangAndreasSchultz.de. Wolfgang-Andreas SCHULTZ (wolfgang-A.Schultz@t-online.de), was born in Hamburg, studied musicology and philosophy, later and composition with Gyorgy Ligeti, whose assistant he became in 1977. Since 1988 full professor for music theory and composition in Hamburg. Latest publications: monograph „Avantgarde. Trauma. Spritualitat", CD „Japanische Landschaften". www.WolfgangAndreasSchultz.de. Leon STEFANIJA (leon.stefanija@ff.uni-lj.si) je redni profesor na Oddelku za muzikologijo Filozofske fakultete Univerze v Ljubljani, kjer vodi katedro za sistematično muzikologijo. Njegovi glavni raziskovalni interesi in pedagoško delovanje sodijo na področje spoznavoslovja raziskovanja glasbe, sodobne (predvsem slovenske) glasbe, sociologije glasbe, psihologije glasbe in glasbene pedagogike. Leon STEFANIJA (leon.stefanija@ff.uni-lj.si) is a full professor and holds the Chair of Systematic Musicology in the Department of Musicology, Faculty of Arts, University of Ljubljana. His main research interests and teaching areas focused on the epistemol-ogy of research, contemporary music (primarily Slovene, classical and popular), music theory, sociology and psychology of music and music education. Katarina ŠTER, (katarina.ster@zrc-sazu.si)je raziskovalka na Muzikološkem inštitutu ZRC SAZU, kjer se ukvarja predvsem s srednjeveško glasbo monastičnih tradicij ter raziskuje razmerje med besedo in glasbo v starejši vokalni glasbi. Trenutno se izpopolnjuje na Scholi Cantorum v Baslu. Je avtorica številnih razprav na temo kar-tuzijanskega korala in žičkih glasbenih rokopisov. Katarina ŠTER, PhD (katarina.ster@zrc-sazu.si) is a research fellow at the ZRC SAZU Institute of Musicology. Her main interests include medieval music of the monastic traditions and the relationship between words and music in early vocal music. Currently she is carrying out a study on the Schola Cantorum in Basle. She is the author of several articles on Carthusian plainchant and the Žiče (Seitz) music manuscripts. Primož TRDAN (primoz.trdan@gmail.com) je leta 2012 diplomiral z nalogo Preobrazba zvrsti v Koncertu za violino in orkester Janeza Matičiča in za delo prejel študentsko Prešernovo nagrado Filozofske fakultete. Deluje tudi kot glasbeni publicist in kritik. Primož TRDAN (primoz.trdan@gmail.com) graduated in 2012 with a thesis titled The Transfiguration of Genre in Concerto for Violin and Orchestra by Janez Matičič and received the Faculty Prešeren Student Prize. Already during his studies, he became active also as a music journalist and critic. Vesna VENIŠNIK (vesna.venisnik@gmail.com) je leta 2011 diplomirala na Oddelku za muzikologijo Filozofske fakultete Univerze v Ljubljani z diplomsko nalogo Simfonična pesnitev v slovenski glasbeni ustvarjalnosti. V istem letu se je na oddelku zaposlila kot mlada raziskovalka. Njeno raziskovalno delo je usmerjeno na področje simfonične glasbe na Slovenskem. Vesna VENIŠNIK (vesna.venisnik@gmail.com) obtained a degree in musicology in the year 2011 at the Department of Musicology, Faculty of arts, University of Ljubljana, with the thesis Simfonična pesnitev v slovenski glasbeni ustvarjalnosti (Symphonic Poem in Slovene Music). She started working at the Department as a young researcher the same year. Her research focuses on the beginnings of Slovene symphonic music.