Wednesday, March 26, 2014

Renowned composer, unknown works I (WWI Edition): Elgar and the hopes of a (badly wounded) Empire




Welcome back! For today’s post, I present the first edition of the series Renowned composer, unknown works, dedicated to the most obscure (or obscured) works by great composers of the past that possibly got some or a lot of attention in their time (or not) and that failed to get a place in the repertoire for whichever reason possible. Today I will present some of Edward Elgar’s works that were written during World War I which are of historical importance: Carillon Op. 75, Polonia Op.76 and The Spirit of England Op. 80, which represent the composers’ state of mind during different parts of the conflict.

Born in 1862, Elgar was the fourth child of a Catholic Worcestershire music merchant. He was largely a self-taught composer who in spite of all hardships and suspicions of Victorian society and academia, achieved success and recognition, much like William Byrd did in the Elizabethan Court three centuries earlier. Much of his musical education was received at home thanks to his father’s musical knowledge, but his musical inspiration came from visits to continental Europe in his twenties and thirties, especially those visits to Germany, where he was in contact with the music of Schuman, Rubinstein, Brahms and Wagner. It was in this place that he also made important friendships, notably with Augustus Jaeger, a music publisher, who helped inspire some of Elgar’s early work and who is portrayed in Elgar’s first major success, the Enigma Variations Op.36. Elgar’s triumphs grew little by little and by 1914, Edward Elgar was the most celebrated composer in the British Empire.  Having written two expansive symphonies (Opp. 55 and 63 respectively), gigantic oratorios such as The Dream of Gerontius, Op. 38 and lighter works such as the Pomp and Circumstance Marches Op. 39 (Nos. 1 to 4), and even having received a knighthood in 1904, Elgar’s music undoubtedly represented the optimism and great glory of his nation before the Great War started. 


Carillon Op.75 was written within the first months of the War as a reaction to the fierce German invasion of Belgium. Set to the words of the Belgian poet Émile Cammaerts, this work is a recitative drama on his poem Après Anvers which might be recited in its original language or in its English translation Carillon (version presented here). This type of musical work was not rare in the beginning of the 20th Century and the fervent patriotism coming from both British and Belgians deemed suitable such a layout instead of an orchestral/choral setting. The musical structure is very simple: Elgar devises a four note descending leitmotiv that resounds throughout the work, echoing the disappeared bells of the razed Belgian churches. After a two minute introduction using the full orchestral resources, the speaker enounces ardently the first words of the poem “Sing Belgians sing” and goes on describing the destruction of this country. The orchestra comes in and out his reciting, leaving the most solemn parts to be recited alone. In the end, the poet and the speaker devise a triumphant reconquering of Belgium and an equally triumphant entry in Berlin, under the command of “sweet vengeance”. Nowadays, the work may be performed without the text and as a side note, this work remained of complete obscurity to average concertgoers in my home country until the evening of 11th January 2014, when it was premiered (without the text) in/by Mexico’s UNAM Philharmonic Orchestra to an audience (myself included) that received this work warmly.


The bright optimism of a war that should have ended by 1914’s Christmas and that fueled the British Army’s early operations soon vanished, especially when the advances in the Western Front stopped and the carnage of the first fully industrial war became a harsh reality to the soldiers in trenches and to countless lost divisions of cavalry, with them facing machine guns, explosive artillery and hand grenades, just to name a few mass death inventions. These war horrors were soon to reach the arts: Laurence Binyon, an important name within the British high art spheres, published some of his war inspired poetry by late 1914 in The Times, though he only saw some action as a medical aide until 1916. Three of his poems “The Fourth of August”, “To Women” and “For the Fallen” were to become a trilogy Elgar set to music that he called “The Spirit of England” which bears the Op.80 of his production. This composition has a difficult story behind its creation, since both internal and external factors belated its premiere. First of all, a fellow composer of Elgar, Cyril Rootham was to set the third poem. Second, while he was able to set the second and third poem easily and secure their premiere, some lines in the first poem which refer to Germans as “Vampires of Europes wasted will”. As mentioned above, Elgar (as Delius, whose work was explored last week) had several German friends and these words made him uneasy. Nonetheless, ongoing atrocities in the battlefield and beyond finally convinced Elgar to go on. Third, when the work was fully premiered, the difficulty of finding a tenor soloist for the second poem proved to be a challenge and the work was sung only by a soprano. Finally and against all odds, The Spirit of England was premiered on October 1917. The work is scored for a full symphony orchestra and mixed choir, plus two soloists, one tenor, one soprano, and such a version is presented here. During its three episodes, music is of a desolate nature, yet it contains some optimistic passages and thus it was considered Elgar’s War Requiem. The Fourth of August starts with deep, dissonant intervals on brass and woodwind to be followed by a more joyful introduction and the first entry of the choir and soloists. This movement is characterized by a joyful march rather than obscure music, as it serves as a call for arms. Nevertheless, Elgar reuses material from the Demon’s chorus from The Dream of Gerontius when arriving to the Vampires’ verse and beyond: The ending verses of the poem are full of dissonance and despair, symbol of the suffering of the front line soldiers, only to regain its initial optimism. “To Women” is a more introspective and reflective movement. The tenor, with a dramatic voice, introduces the movement until the first equally dramatic entry of the choir. The effective use of orchestration and chromaticism evoke vividly the words of the poem, which deal with women’s suffering of loss and equally tell them to stand proud and strong in spite of all hardships back home. The setting of the third and final poem “For the Fallen” resembles a great funeral march, if not entirely, of mahlerian flavor. Minor tonalities and a marching leitmotiv composed of jumping intervals are the backbone of this movement, which is a remembrance and thanksgiving for these lost troops. The middle episode, which remembers the young soldiers, is of remarkable interest since chromaticism and playful march melody are in complete contrast against the bleak, solemn, first and last sections of the work. Eventually, the souls of soldiers are allowed light and eternal rest, marked by the predominance of major keys towards the end of the work.


In the meantime, Polonia Op. 76 was composed and premiered in mid-1915. This work was composed for a charitable concert to help the Polish Victims Relief Fund, an organization charged to help Poles who sought asylum in England, and it became a premonition of things to come. Poland didn’t exist as a country since the Congress of Vienna in 1815 and several revolts erupted in the area throughout the 19th Century in order to regain independence from Austria, Russia and Prussia (later Germany). As a result, Polish youth was drafted into the armies of these three countries and WWI was not an exception. Many of these youths were able to flee to Western Europe and thus support organizations like the PVRF were born. Elgar guised a symphonic poem for large orchestra plus organ which depicts the continue struggles and suffering of the Polish people under their three captors. Poland might have not then existed, but its soul lived well within its artists and people. Thus, Elgar makes quotes of Polish Patriotic songs Warzawianka (March of the Zouaves), Z dymem pózarow (With the smoke of fire), as well as Chopin’s Nocturne and Paderewski’s Polish fantasy, as well as an original theme marked nobilemente. These themes are used through reflective, patriotic, melancholic, and anguished moments which culminate in a final struggle against foreign oppression, triumphantly concluding with Dawbrowski’s mazurka, soon to become Poland’s national anthem. Eventually, growing dismay in the Central Powers as well as the Russian Revolution brought a final uprising to the lands of the Poles after the end of the Great War, one that eventually secured their independence with support of the Western Allies in 1919 under the Treaty of Versailles.

Sebastian Rodriguez Mayen

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