NATURE AND NURTURE
with WILFRID MELLERS
Janacek: 'Diary of a Young Man who
Disappeared'
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<< Continued from yesterday
Over the remaining nine songs the boy sings desperately to himself, at
first trying to stifle guilt, for his agrarian community seems to be patriarchally
Christian. As the music grows starker and more sparely aphoristic, it also
becomes more distraught, creating music of alarming 'modernity', though
its melodic and rhythmic gestures spring from basic human experience, and
Janacek adheres to a traditional tonal symbolism, with 'dark' A flat minor
and E flat minor associated with death and destiny, A flat major hinting
at liberation, and D flat major being, as always, his key of love fulfilled.
In the final song fear and trembling are elevated into ecstasy, in E flat
major, the upward dominant to basic A flat. The tenor ends on high Cs, 'added
sixths' to the E flat major triad: so we emerge, with the boy, from the
buffets of personal fate and of impersonal destiny, into the sun, the wind,
the rain, and the turning earth which is our temporal home. Dubious though
we may be about the gypsy-enthralled lad's ultimate fate, we can have no
doubt about Janacek's unswerving belief in life, however uncertain are man's
morality, God's goodness and the obliquities and iniquities of fate.
This is a disc on no account to be missed, for Peter Straka is a tenor
whose young voice but mature technique are up to the superb music's elusive
difficulty, while Dagmar Peckova's gypsy smoulders in inspirational duskiness,
and Marian Lapsansky distils man's and Nature's volatilities from this paradoxically
sparse but dense piano part. He also gives a powerful performance of the
Piano Sonata 1 x 1905, written just before the opera Jenufa that
made him an international celebrity. The instrumental; work, like the song-cycle
composed around a decade later, was also provoked by a 'slice of life';
or perhaps a slice of death, since the event in question was the murder
of a worker-student in a political riot triggered by the failure of the
city fathers of Brno to found a Czech University to complement the German
one. This political cause, close to Janacek's heart, was again twinned with
a personal dimension, the death of his adolescent daughter, fruit of his
marriage to a beautiful child-bride who, alas, had already come to represent
everything in bourgeois respectability that his creative life was opposed
to. The work, though idiomatically original in pianistic terms, is, no less
than the piano part of the song cycle, compound of quasi-vocal gestures
and of implicitly theatrical movements of arms and hands. The first movement
(Presentiment) is in deathly E flat minor, opening with a wavering near-pentatonic
cantilena aspiring into cumulatively wilder leaps: which are shattered by
a savage descending figure that might be an elemental force of Nature. So
the movement pivots on a sonata-dualism, between human and non-human forces,
of some ferocity with a tight development that grows scarily minatory, until
the recapitulation dissolves in an oddly disembodied coda, shifting between
a dominant seventh of C and a final triad of E flat minor. The second movement
('Death') is also in E flat minor, at first a noble but broken, wearily
reiterated lament on a pentatonic motif of rising fourth and falling minor
third, with a middle section in frantic dotted rhythms, with enharmonic
tonal shiftings rather than modulations, rounded off by a da capo of the
lament. The coda is again mysteriously enharmonic, ending, however, with
a remote, una corda E flat minor triad.
Since Janacek discarded the third and last movement we cannot know whether
he intended the lamenting song to be resolved. But if, in the surviving
two movements, song is unresolved, neither is it obliterated. It retains
its identity and, like Janacek himself, gains in pliancy from the assaults
it is submitted to. Current events in the world today remind us that Janacek's
compassionate fortitude is more than ever necessary, and probably always
will be.
Copyright © Wilfrid Mellers, May
2nd 1999
Supraphon 3378-2931
Peter Straka, tenor; Dagmar Peckova, contralto; Marian Lapsanansky,
piano
Janacek: Diary of a Young Man who Disappeared
Duration: 50m
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