then we saw the stars again

Béla Bartók, Music for strings, percussion and celesta – IV allegro molto

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One thing I am very thankful to the much-maligned centre-left press in Italy is their left-of-center choice of musical retrospectives. For the whole summer of 1996 there was a weekly compilation of the greatest moments in Twentieth Century Music that came with the week end edition of L’Unità, and each CD was arranged according to a theme. My favourite collection in that series was the one about rhtyhmic innovations. And the tracks that really blew me away were the two fast movements from Music for Strings, Percussion, and Celesta.

Here was a work that threw away my notion of rhtyhm and harmony for something a lot more exciting, and yet it still made sense, even on a surface approach. The problem with a lot of Twentieth Century music is that on paper, it is bound to be engaging on an intellectual level, but not exactly fun as a listening experience. The concept and approaches were new, and in the space of twenty years all we knew about tonality, key relations and texture had been rendered obsolete. But as much as we do recognise the pioneers of 12-tone and atonal music as the liberators from the excesses and shackles of late Romantic music, it is sometimes hard to ‘dig’ their works on a simple, visceral “pop music” level. And I think that Bartók understood that all too well.

Bartók was definitely a composer of his time, but also a composer who was firmly rooted in a musical language that had as much to do with atonality as it did with traditional music. In fact, he abandoned the atonal and serial experiments that became the trademark of Schoenberg and the Viennese School composers in favour of a combination of influences: in Bartók’s music you can feel both a sense of familiarity that comes from his use of Hungarian folk motives and the element of surprise that characterises much of the first four decades of the Twentieth Century. Which resulted in a soundscape that is immediately recognisable for being many things at once: revolutionary and traditional, serious and playful, accessible and challenging.

If you were to liken Music for strings, percussion and celesta to a post-rock band, a few names come to mind: Don Caballero, Toe and the whole Japanese math-rock subset, and of course, Battles. Comparisons abound between Battles (and Tyondai Braxton’s solo output especially) and contemporary composers, as a constant reminder that, after all, genres are really only a limiting factor. And to be honest, there isn’t much difference between Mirrored or Central Market and Bartók’s piece once you put them in their context: they are groundbreaking works without being overtly anarchic or radical, they hint at a world of newness without breaking entirely from tradition.

Bartók was not the most radical composer of the Twentieth Century, but like Stravinski, he managed to create a vision that would appeal to different people, with different expectations. It’s entirely possible to listen to Music for strings, percussion and celesta for enjoyment, to have ‘a good time’. And it’s possible to get utterly obsessed with its compositional details, its rhythmic and harmonic innovations, its reference to the past (the fugue and counterpoint) and its hints at what lies ahead.

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The version included here is taken from the 1958 RCA recording, performed by the Chicago Symphony Orchestra conducted by Fritz Reiner, a close friend of Bartok’s and one his most passionate champions.
It is still regarded by many as the standard against which other interpretations are measured, and when you hear how clear and beautifully rendered every instrumental section is, there is little doubt why that is.

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There is a very nice version on Youtube, conducted by Christoph von Dohnányi, whose dynamic interpretation keeps the work in the muscular tradition of Reiner or another brilliant Hungarian conductor, Ferenc Fricsay. Best enjoyed with headphones.

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Part one: the movement is built on a mirror image.

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Part two: the separate sections echo each other. Look for the last 20 seconds for an amazing stereo effect!

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Part three: this is the trademark “night music” devised by Bartok. Kubrick used it to great effect in the maze scene from the Shining.

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Part four: for the last movement, the orchestra pulls all the stops. Though not as raw and violent as Reiner’s or Fricsay’s, von Dohnányi’s version is still among the more balanced out there.

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As usual, pieces here are for illustrative purposes only. If you like what you hear, buy the composer’s records, or go to their gigs and get a t-shirt!