A post-rock lover’s guide to classical music: episode 5
Igor Stravinski, the Rite of Spring
(apologies for the lack of podcast this week. The podcast will resume on the 1st of December)
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Here is an analogy. All we have to do is go back a Century.
Let’s assume that the canon of post-rock as we know it is this music of epic proportions, soundscapes unfolding in rising climaxes of crescendos and wailing guitars. An amalgam of Mogwai, Mono and Explosions in the Sky, to be more concrete. And let’s call this music Late Romanticism. Mahler, Brahms, Rimsky-Korsakov, to be more concrete.
Now let’s also assume that there is only so much you can do within these parameters until the music loses meaning and becomes a cliche of itself. Let’s push boundaries and make a bold statement, a work that would, at the same time, echo the past, mirror the present, and announce the future. This, to me, is where 65 Days of Static’s The fall of Math and Stravinski’s The Rite of Spring reside.
Of course, analogies can be faulted. Stravinski was not the only important iconoclast of his time. Charles Ives and Anton Webern also made groundbreaking forays into atonality and polytonality at about the same time, but Twentieth Century music really starts with The rite of Spring. And as for The fall of math, other albums were pointing at the same direction and clearly moving things away from the soft/loud dichotomy, but it’s the coherence and conciseness of 65 DoS that makes their work a standout. And while I wouldn’t go as far as to say that The Fall of Math is the sound of the new Century, it really is a sound of a new post-rock, and whether or not it will eventually lead to cliche and by-the-number patterns, it all remains to be seen.
Stravinski wrote The Rite between 1910 and 1913, and the piece premiered in May, 1913, as a ballet.
For it, he devised novel ways of considering rhythm and sound. He often uses instruments out of their normal registers, thereby blurring the line between a distinct voice and another, often resulting in tonal patterns no one had heard of before. And to suggest the primitive aspect the ballet required, Stravinski composes elaborate passages in various polyrhythmic sections, literally shattering the very foundations of the orchestra as an entity of sound. The music sounds so raw, so vital and essential that Leonard Bernstein famously described it (sixty years after its creation) still as a piece that has”never been topped for sophisticated handling of primitive rhythms[...] and whatever else you care to name”
This is one of the epochal moments in music history. A riot soon erupted at the premiere between the supporters and the detractors of Stravinski’s new musical direction, and the police had to cut the performance short. Imagine yourself back a hundred years and it’s not too hard to see why: this is the story of a pagan rite, a sacrifice to violent and ancient gods, an ode to atavism. It is the antithesis of Romantic sentimentality and bombast. All the superfluous emotional baggage is stripped to the bare essentials: sex and violence.
Welcome to the Twentieth Century.
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The Rite of Springg is one of those pieces that need to be seen live. The music just hits you, and doesn’t let go. The brutality of the second part is a counterpoint to the eerie sensuality of the opening movement, and it really is a piece that needs to be heard in its entirety. You can isolate fragments, but they work best in context, as there is virtually no separation between the movements.
I don’t think you need to look any further than the Esa-Pekka Salonen version found on youtube: his energy is boundless, and the LA Philarmonic can sound as demonic as a black metal band and as alluring as a 2AM lounge singer.
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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!
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