Light and Dark, Dark and Light
Byron Challoner
Assignment Three: Art and Assessment
Fall 2016
WRIT340/Arts and Humanities
Section # 65250 / Murray
Dark and Light, Light and Dark
The composer Alfred Schnittke lived and worked in
the USSR during the period following Stalin’s death known as the “thaw”,
carrying forward the musical traditions of his predecessors while under
official sanction by authorities (Ivashkin, p. 75). It was in these circumstances that he
composed music of great originality and emotional power; through harmonic
tension, or dissonance, he creates an atmosphere of dread and despair. Through harmonic resolution, or consonance,
he paints glimmering rays of light and hope.
His ingenious and unique musical language uses extreme ratios of these
elements – the dark (dissonance) to the light (consonance) and the light to the
dark. Or perhaps, it is the light
(dissonance) to the dark (consonance), and the dark (consonance) to the light
(dissonance)? The overwhelming presence of one tone works to accentuate the
sparse presence of the other. His works
for strings exhibit almost total darkness with hardly any light, while his
sacred choral works shimmer brilliantly like the sun with only a few patches of
dark. Through brilliant use of these
extreme contrasts, Schnittke achieves a highly evocative range of emotional
expression from crushing despair to religious ecstasy. Music of this kind of power certainly
deserves every bit as much prominence in Western concert halls, recognition for
its influence on other composers, and appreciation of its importance to musical
history as the music of his predecessors such as Bach, Mozart, and
Shostakovich, and his contemporaries such as Morten Lauridsen, Arvo Pärt, and
Eric Whitacre.
An excellent introduction to the power of
Schnittke’s string language is his Concerto Grosso n. 1 (TheWells,
“Concerto”). The first movement begins
with an unusual instrument called a prepared piano--an ordinary piano with
various items (usually coins) placed between the strings to create an unusual
sound. In this case, it sounds almost
like a distant gong, perhaps there to announce the entrance of the strings
about a minute later. The strings play
one dissonant interval after another, slowly and forcefully building an
atmosphere of tension and unease. An
apocalyptic landscape is painted by the strings as they begin moan in agony,
growing more and more violent and loud--the accompanying artwork for the music
link is an excellent choice for capturing the character of this piece. Directly after the conclusion of the first
movement, the second movement (4:58-9:23) takes off with a surprisingly
consonant and beautiful Baroque-style theme that soon curves into itself,
followed by even more dissonance and dread.
Interspersed between the dark folds of this movement are only the
faintest and most desperate glimmers of hope in the form of harmonic
consonance, and it ends with a violent crash.
The third movement (9:24-16:17) is a slow grind as layers upon layers of
strange dissonance rise from the depths to the surface, building into a
crescendo of anarchy that explodes into the fourth movement (16:18-18:49) which
is itself a grisly display of virtuosity by two soloists. The fifth movement (18:50-25:57) is arguably
the highlight of the piece, as fully consonant arpeggiated chords in the
harpsichord accompany a sorrowfully beautiful theme in the strings. The sense of madness is magnified by a kind
of schizophrenic tango placed in the middle of the movement. The climax of the work is when the fifth
movement’s theme crashes into a reprise of the prepared piano opening, leading
to the sixth and final movement (25:58-28:20) where the whole work slowly dies
away like a slain monster in its death throes.
The brilliance of the work is that the brief flashes of optimism and
hope only to make the despair seem even more crushing. Quite paradoxically, Schnittke also uses this
style to greatly accentuate brief moments of consonance and beauty – in other words,
the tide of darkness only makes the bright seem brighter. In his Piano Quintet (belana000, “Quintet”),
the writing is mostly atonal and dissonant in sound, which is appropriate for a
work lamenting and grieving for his recently deceased mother. It is only in the fifth and final movement
that we hear something clearly consonant and transparently bright. A lovely piano ostinato, or repeated figure,
appears (20:27). Only in the final few
bars of the movement is the ostinato allowed to shine on its own. This magical moment is reminiscent of the
pure and childlike joy in Schnittke’s mystical contemporary, Arvo Pärt’s,
“Spiegel im Spiegel” (playingmusic, “Spiegel”).
The angelic ostinato theme of the movement is left in peace by the
strings to softly wander away, giving the impression of a soul at last
ascending joyously into heaven (23:15).
With the same harmonic ratio (although different tone), we are being
dragged into the dark with Concerto Grosso n. 1, or we are being carried into
the light in the Piano Quintet.
Mastery of strings and ingenuity in their use has
come to define a lineage of great composers from Beethoven to
Shostakovich. Ivan Moody, in describing
Schnittke’s Piano Quintet, writes that “…Schnittke relies heavily on the
emotive, associative power of the strings.
Such is his mastery that this never seems an unsatisfactory dependence…”
(p. 4). Schnittke’s use of dissonant
strings to emotionally accentuate darkness results in him painting many
“shades” of black. Schnittke’s string
quartets are an exposition of his emotional language with strings at its most
bare – his first quartet is dissonant, tense, austere, and bleak (Molinari,
“String”). It is so dissonant that the
sound came across as aleatory (random) and atonal (dissonant) on a first listen. Later I could identify a faint tonal center. This style was not bold in the West at the
time, but it went completely against what was acceptable in Soviet Russia
(Brodsky, “String Quartet No. 1”). Given
his circumstances, it is intriguing that Schnittke was bold enough to take
dissonance further than almost anyone, anywhere, at any time. His Viola Concerto consists of an apocalyptic
struggle of soloist against orchestra, and the soloist does not survive
(adagio, “Viola”). It contains only a
few moments of consonance, with most of those in a minor and not major
mode. And again, this is precisely what
makes these moments so powerful. The
fast, arpeggiated strings of the allegro molto second movement (4:24-16:15) are
strongly evocative of a chase, inflicting terror on the listener. This composition is a complete exposition of
the darkest musical hues and shapes of the viola, the deeper and richer cousin
to the violin in the string family, and is certainly one of the finest examples
of its form in music history (McBurney, “Viola”). Another ghost story told by Schnittke’s
strings is the Concerto for Piano and String Orchestra (TheWellesz, “concerto
per pianoforte e archi”). In this case,
the strings are often the brazen misplaced optimists, singing major triads in
the middle of tone clusters being banged out on the piano (4:40). Surrounded by darkness, whatever major
tonalities the strings decide to fashion are ephemeral and become corrupted by
the piano.
After hearing these examples of Schnittke’s
music, one might feel that this evocative music is well placed in a scene from
a horror film, and they would be quite right.
Schnittke himself was a prolific film score composer, writing
soundtracks for nearly 70 films. Because
he was sanctioned by the Composer’s union, writing scores for films was the
only way he could make a living while honing his style (Ivashkin, p.
104-106). Referring back to Ivan Moody,
after looking at the emotive power of Schnittke’s strings, film scores are an
avenue for investigating his music’s associative power (Moody, 4), a quality
that fits together snugly with the visual arts, and has lent itself quite well
to accompanying film. The Russian film
“Agoniya (1975)” directed by Elem Klimov is a visceral expose about the
infamous Russian anti-hero Rasputin (“Agoniya”), and the accompanying
soundtrack by Schnittke is well-suited to such a subject matter (Wellsz,
“Agony”). The recent movie “The Lobster
(2015)” is about a dystopian future where being a couple is mandatory and uses
both Schnittke’s Piano Quintet and his String Quartet No. 2 to accentuate the
bizarre and uneasy settings of the film (“The Lobster”).
While Schnittke’s secular music is full of horror
and dread and is downright spooky, his sacred choral works occupy the other
side of his musical universe, being thoroughly tonal and consonant (full of
light) and formal in construction, and the dissonances (darknesses) always
resolve to triadic conclusions. But just
as before, the factor that makes them even more special is the presence of
sporadic, highly intense harmonic dissonances (darknesses) that elevate a
positive experience to a transcendent and religious one. In his “3 Sacred Hymns – Lord’s Prayer”, the
work begins on an Eb Major chord and ends on an Eb Major chord – planting
itself firmly in the key of Eb Major (VitalyGR, “3 Sacred Hymns”). Despite liturgical music being banned by the
authorities, Schnittke (himself a late convert to Christianity) deliberately
draws from the Russian Orthodox Church choral tradition where triadic and tonal
works are appropriate, as well as long chant-like unison melodies (Moody, p.
10). His use of dynamics is especially
skillful and gratifying in conveying the message of the text, such as how the
music builds and crescendos through “for thine is the kingdom, and the power,
and the glory, for ever and ever” into the “amen” (3:24-4:24). The penultimate chord in the “amen” cadence in
measure 43 deserves a careful examination as it contains the notes G, B, F, and
Ab. Because it voice-leads into the
final Eb chord, it must be functioning as a kind of dominant chord. But it is not a traditional dominant chord,
or it would spell Bb, D, F, Ab.
Despite not being recognizable as a cadence
chord, it sounds perfectly placed in this work.
It functions like an even grittier, more dissonant dominant chord on the
account of the minor second between G and Ab, with an even greater sense of
resolution when the final chord is reached.
The logic of the voice-leading is that G holds over, B falls to Bb, F
falls to Eb, and Ab falls to G. There is
certain ingenuity this chord, in that every concluding note is reached by step
motion. For centuries, the fifth note
(Bb) simply carried over from the dominant to the final chord in a standard
authentic cadence. There is no note in a
dominant chord that resolves to Bb because it is already present as the root -
the chord is built on the fifth note of the Eb major scale (Bb). In this oddball chord, the sixth of the
dominant (G) is present and holds over to the final chord where it becomes a
repetition of the third. In a way, it is
a variation on the dominant chord that has been the foundation of tonal harmony
for half a millennium. This musical sun
is accentuated by a musical sunspot.
Offbeat cadences of this type become a harmonic
motif for Schnittke in his other choral works, such as in his great Choir
Concerto (VitalyGR, “Choir Concerto”).
Ivan Moody writes, “It is not overstating the case to say that Schnittke
has, in Concerto for Chorus, given the 20th century one of its most significant
choral works. The range and depth of the
music is something that can be obtained only by a composer with a genuine
mastery of the voices” (p. 10). One
factor demonstrating the mastery inherent in this work is the use of incredible
vertical dissonances, quite sparsely, to accentuate the overall consonance of
the work. The presence of these
dissonances is something highly original and remarkable in a choral work, as
they are not a part of any church’s choral tradition, and yet Schnittke had not
only the understanding that they are within the grasp of choral technique, but
also the gall to include them in a sacred work.
American composers like Eric Whitacre and Morten Lauridsen became famous
for “light dissonances” or “textual density” in their choral works composed
later on in the 20th century, and after discovering Schnittke’s music it’s hard
to find them as the only composers with the originality to incorporate
startling dissonance. Eric Whitacre has
acknowledged some of his influences, including Arvo Pärt (Larsen, p. 23) who
was a contemporary of Schnittke and part of the Soviet avant-garde. It is likely both composers (who are wildly
more popular than Schnittke) were directly inspired by him--but even if they
weren’t, his music still made theirs possible.
In movement one of the Choir Concerto (VitalyGR,
“O Master of All Living Things”) in measure 104 (7:54), we are greeted with a
harmony constructed on the following notes: D, Eb, F, G, Ab, and C – a real
mouthful. The analysis of the harmony
shows that it is actually a kind of jazz chord – a dm7 b5 b9 (d-minor seven,
flat five, flat nine), and resolves to an open d-minor harmony. In this case, the effect doesn’t seem to be
moving the piece forward, but rather greatly intensifying a quiet passage prior
to a great crescendo. In measure 173
(12:50) we find E, G#, B, D, F#, A – another jazz harmony – this time, an E13
chord, the very limit of tertian harmony!
It shimmers only in a brief passing role on the way to a crescendo. In measure 189 (14:17), we find F, Ab, Cb,
Eb, Gb, Bb, which is an fm11 b5 b9 chord (f-minor eleven flat-five,
flat-nine). The choir builds up to the
chord, then hovers on it, again anticipating a huge crescendo. In the fourth movement (VitalyGR, “Complete
This Work Which I Began”), at the culmination of the work, again we see
Schnittke’s signature of a gritty dominant chord. The choir once again builds to the “a-men”
cadence (~3:25-6:06) and a penultimate chord forms around the “a-“ component of
the text. We find the notes C#, D, E, G,
and F#, compared once again to an ordinary dominant in the key of D Major, A,
C#, E, G. The chord is perhaps best
analyzed as a c#dim b9 add11 (c-sharp diminished, flat-nine, add 11). This chord is similar to the ‘dominant’ chord
from the end of “Lord’s Prayer”, in that we have the third (F#) present in the
dominant chord which creates a half-step between F# and G amplifying the
dissonance and carrying over. But then
we find something truly astonishing. The
presence of the root (D) of the tonic chord in any chord trying to function as
a dominant chord goes against all conventional logic, as dominant chords are
supposed to represent tension in music and the tonic chord is supposed to
represent resolution. They exist at
opposite emotional poles and theoretical functions. But Schnittke somehow realized that doing so
would lead to yet another tone holding over, as well as yet another half-step
between C# and D, adding an anticipatory effect as well as even more
crunchiness. Apparently, polar opposites
can mix, and this amen cadence demonstrates how – while we experience incredible
tension at this climactic point before tonic chord, in a precognizant way we
somehow sense that we have already arrived.
Because the whole movement feels like one big phrase and the “amens” go
on for another two minutes, perhaps this ‘dominant’ chord is really the tonic,
and all it was doing was shedding its dissonance.
Hugh Collins Rice wrote skeptically of Schnittke’s music,
“Structures are often the most basic of designs, thematic techniques appear
unsophisticated (transformations, canons, simple heterophonic devices). Climaxes
are achieved by extravagant instrumental gestures, long pedal points are used
to unify paragraphs ... and serial devices amount to the simplest chromatic
formations….” (p. 12). All these points
describe the composer’s music, but they miss a very important point. These tools of the composer, like his
brilliant use of contrasting light and dark in the context of extreme harmonic
consonance or dissonance, are means to the end of emotional expression and the
evocation of images, words, and ideas that take us to another world. If the goal of good music is to move our
feelings, or move us somewhere new, in ways we never have been before, then
Schnittke offers the wandering, contemporary musical pilgrim a place to rest
for a good long while.
Works Cited
Ivashkin, A. Alfred Schnittke. London, 1996.
“Concerto Grosso n. 1 (1976/1977).” YouTube, uploaded by TheWelleszCompany,
27 Jan 2011, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M3Xehs1rHfM
“Alfred Schnittke - Piano Quintet (w/ score) (1976).” YouTube, uploaded by
belanna000, 28 June 2015, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Td-cUkR1Tu8
“Arvo Pärt- Spiegel im Spiegel.” YouTube, uploaded by playingmusiconmars, 2
June 2010, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TJ6Mzvh3XCc
Moody, Ivan. “The Music of Alfred Schnittke.” Tempo, no. 168, 1989, pp.
4-11.
“String Quartet No. 1: 1. Sonata”, YouTube, uploaded by Molinari Quartet –
Topic, 29 June 2015, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lbfLhwM2L_s
Brodsky, Seth. “Alfred Schnittke: String Quartet No.1” AllMusic.com, http://www.allmusic.com/composition/string-quartet-no-1-mc0002384753 Accessed 4 Nov. 2016
“Schnittke ; Viola Concerto / Yuri Bashmet(va),Valery Gergiev ; Rotterdam
Philharmonic 1993.” YouTube, uploaded by adagio fukax2, 5 Oct. 2015 https://youtu.be/OAY6NO_iNvA
McBurney, George. “Viola Concerto (1985)”. AmericanSymphonyOrchestra.com. http://americansymphony.org/viola-concerto-1985/ Accessed 4 Nov. 2016
“Alfred Schnittke: Concerto per pianoforte e archi (1979).” YouTube,
uploaded by TheWellszCompany, 27 Jan. 2011 https://youtu.be/5vyCc_jFidw
“Agoniya (Rasputin).” internetMovieDatabase.com. http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0081991/ Accessed 4 Nov. 2016
“The Lobster (2015) Soundtracks.” internetMovieDatabse.com. http://www.imdb.com/title/tt3464902/soundtrack Accessed 4 Nov. 2016
“Schnittke – 3 Sacred Hymns 3 – Lord’s Prayer.” YouTube, uploaded by
VitalyGR, 24 June 2012, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O2Hq6F77n80
Larsen, Andrew. “Textual Density in the Choral Music of Eric Whitacre.”
Choral Journal, vol. 49, no. 6, 2006, pp. 22-23.
“Schnittke - Choir Concerto 1 - O Master of all Living Things.” YouTube,
uploaded by VitalyGR, 25 June 2012, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VGc-Tu_1yGw
“Schnittke - Choir Concerto 4 - Complete This Work Which I Began.” YouTube,
uploaded by VitalyGR 25 June 2012, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ykuF8h7sFwI
Rice, Hugh Collins. “Further
Thoughts on Schnittke.” Tempo, new series, no. 168, 1989, pp. 12-14.
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