Danski zmaj klasične glazbe.
Prirodne elementarne sile, matematika, interferencije, istočne filozofije, Gilgameš, Beatlesi, imaginarni mega-Manhattan i South Park. Pored toga, život mu je promijenilo otkriće slika i ideja Adolfa Wölflija, o kojem je skladao operu Božanski cirkus. I soundtrack za Babettinu gozbu je njegov.
120513 | Rilkeensemblen & Henric Holmberg | Wölfli na Vimeu
(Text: Adolf Wölfli, Musik: Per Nörgård)
A guide to Per Nørgård's music by Tom Service
Don't believe me? Have a listen to the opening of his Fifth Symphony. Nørgård himself quotes one listener who describes this 35-minute work as "a walk with a fire-breathing dragon", an image that says something about the gigantic power and imagination of this piece, which changes in a second from the surreal sounds of sirens, whistles, wind machines and bird-calls to brassy explosions, swirling string writing – and silence. It's music that has all the chaotic unpredictability of a weather system, and listening to it is like being in the middle of a thunderstorm, or walking through a whiteout: discombobulating, disturbing, sometimes even dangerous, but inescapably compelling.
The Proms will host the British premiere of Nørgård's Seventh Symphony on 9 August (Nørgård has also completed an eigth, which we've still to hear in the UK), and his large-scale orchestral works run through his huge output as markers of how his music has changed over the decades. Nørgård's musical vision was forged in Denmark of the 1940s and 50s, inspired by his studies with Danish symphonist Vagn Holmboe and his love for Sibelius. Nørgård heard in Sibelius the radicalism that later generations of composers would discover, the way his music simultaneously manipulates different kinds of material, different kinds of time, and how forward-looking his use of the orchestra is in its texture and physicality. He even wrote the old, and by then compositionally silent, Sibelius a letter, and received a warm reply. Having dedicated a major new piece to him, Nørgård was too shy to meet Sibelius when he travelled to Finland – even though he glimpsed him in the grounds of his house, Ainola.
But Nørgård was not too shy to extend Sibelius's principles into musical places that not even the Finnish master could have imagined. Nørgård started to use a so-called "infinity series", a mathematical principle that does what it says on the tin, and leads to the generation of an always-changing sequence of notes. This isn't a version of Schoenberg's serialism – far from it, since, the infinity row creates the possibility of resonantly tonal centres across a large-scale work: this is not "atonal" music. Never mind the theory, though: listen to Nørgård's Voyage into the Golden Screen to hear how the infinity row can create music of visionary intensity: slow-moving layers of harmony and line that build to a climax of blinding power in the first part, and then, in the second, you'll hear some deceptively minimalist-sounding riffs (the difference from real minimalism is that nothing is ever simply repeated in Nørgård's music).
Nørgård's attraction to eastern philosophy (he has written an opera on Siddharta), and his embrace of 60s-ish ideas such as "the expansion of consciousness while fully conscious", the title of one of his articles, might suggest music of blissed-out transcendence. But Nørgård's work has increasingly embraced conflict, violence, and even humour (you've got to have a sense of the ridiculous to title a piece Bach to the Future, a double-percussion concerto he composed in 1997; Nørgård is also a fan of the music for the South Park movie, friends say). One of the catalysts for this broadening of his expressive palette was Nørgård's discovery in the late 1970s of the work of Adolf Wölfli, the Swiss artist who spent most of his life in a psychiatric hospital. The combination of pattern and chaos, of obsessive detail and expressive wildness in Wölfli's paintings finds an analogy in Nørgård's music – have a listen to the Fourth Symphony, directly inspired by the Swiss artist, and you'll hear how Nørgård's music creates a surreal world of sudden changes of mood and texture that's somehow pulled together into a single form, a genuinely symphonic journey.
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That's what I like best about Nørgård's music, its simultaneous sense of freedom and coherence, how it pulls you along with all the power of the undertow of a great wave. His Sixth Symphony, "At The End Of The Day", is yet another huge, elemental experience. Nørgård's music becomes a force of nature in its own right, since it contains, accepts, and creates such titanic expressive extremes. And that's to talk mostly about his orchestral music: Nørgård's operas, his songs, and his chamber music are all there to discover, too. Enjoy your walk with Denmark's music-breathing dragon.
Five key links:
Voyage into the Golden ScreenSymphony No 4
Symphony No 5
Symphony No 6
How Per Nørgård tricked Ligeti into discovering Rued Langgaard
Proms 2012: Per Nørgård – Symphony No. 7
Despite
the understandable reluctance on the part of contemporary composers to
use the word, there’s nothing quite like seeing ‘symphony’ on a concert
programme to get one’s blood & expectations pumping. When the
composer in question is Per Nørgård, as it was last
week at the Proms, then the excitement factor ramps up even further.
Composed over a period of three years, Nørgård’s Seventh Symphony
was given its UK première by the BBC Philharmonic, conducted by John
Storgårds; it’s a decade since the first UK performance of Nørgård’s
last symphony (also at the Proms), & considering the
aftermath—audiences & critics very sharply divided in response to
what is an admittedly hard-going work—one can imagine a fair few people
came to this concert with more than usually clenched teeth.
Taken as a whole, the Seventh Symphony seems to undergo a gradual inner rupture & dissipation. The first of the three movements (Nørgård prefers the term ‘passages’) contains the Symphony‘s most demonstrative material, launching into an initial argument with multiple threads & a spritely delivery, hopping from note to note without any lingering. The tom-toms (Nørgård writes for no fewer than 14 of them) make their presence felt early on, not so much establishing a rhythmic underlay as laying down a challenge to the rest of the orchestra. It works, & the direction shifts into a brass-led episode with a wonderfully gentle sense of oom-pah to it (there are some lovely peripheral sounds at this point), getting the orchestra excited, especially the piano. Woodwinds & col legno strings continue this thought, though it eventually yields when the strings bow again, slithering aggressively & ushering in a dramatically softer section. This presents the work’s first obviously melodic material in muted brass; the strings are jittery at first, but they get drawn into & continue the melody, while the toms again can be heard at the fringes. Indirectly, they break the episode’s spell, causing the brass & strings to forge ahead loudly, & while momentum appears to be gradually building, Nørgård keeps it in check, creating an extended tension that ultimately dissolves as the orchestra retreats to softer climes.
The second movement, following short overtures from clarinet & oboe, explodes in a triadic blast of C major proportions, its aftershocks & echoes causing one to wonder whether there’s a fanfare or a chorale wanting to be heard. But instead it submerges into mystery, Nørgård hinting at the makings of something within the resultant textures, something compelling but perhaps defeated. It passes to a unified but disparate convolution of ideas—melodic shapes in the winds, held together by the brass—with a pervading sense of lushness beneath the surface, before the strings get pushy, seemingly fighting for a pulse; this pushes to the limit the sense of unity, & (like the toms in the previous movement) it becomes almost possible to hear the strings as a second music going against the prevailing pulseless material everywhere else. But this time, no pulse ensues, & the orchestra sags back into portamenti & fractured pairs of notes in the winds, & even a frantic effort from the piano can’t prevent it from dissolving back into the spare atmosphere with which the movement began.
Nørgård marks the third & final movement ‘Allegro’, but this seems more & more aspirational as it unfolds. The start is emphatically bouncy, jaunty even, replete with clarinet slides & wild brass unisons, & for a while the textures become what one might call ‘faberian’, hectic but directionless, before a melodic sense starts to grow but is swiftly overpowered by the toms. Proceedings are halted, & now things become very strange, entering a dream-like episode focussing on the strings (the toms remain in the background). Again the piece halts, & when it continues the orchestra feels more nebulous than ever, at something of a distance. The music peters out, surviving only in drawn-out woodwind notes; slides creep in, & briefly there’s an earnest passage of highly lyrical material from the strings, exploring their higher reaches. This lyrical tone spreads into the wind & brass (by now the instruction ‘Allegro’ seems impossibly far away) whereupon a curious little hiccup brings the Symphony to an end.
Part of what confounded listeners last time around was Nørgård’s predilection for superimposing seemingly conflicting moods on top of each other, & while his Symphony No. 7 does this too, the overall sense of clarity seems very much stronger, despite the lack of (or, indeed, the need for) a narrative sense of direction. This might be due to a combination of the richness & softness of Nørgård’s writing, which is especially pronounced in this piece; but regardless, his Symphony No. 7 is an outstanding achievement, beautiful & bewildering in equal measure. -5against4.com/
Taken as a whole, the Seventh Symphony seems to undergo a gradual inner rupture & dissipation. The first of the three movements (Nørgård prefers the term ‘passages’) contains the Symphony‘s most demonstrative material, launching into an initial argument with multiple threads & a spritely delivery, hopping from note to note without any lingering. The tom-toms (Nørgård writes for no fewer than 14 of them) make their presence felt early on, not so much establishing a rhythmic underlay as laying down a challenge to the rest of the orchestra. It works, & the direction shifts into a brass-led episode with a wonderfully gentle sense of oom-pah to it (there are some lovely peripheral sounds at this point), getting the orchestra excited, especially the piano. Woodwinds & col legno strings continue this thought, though it eventually yields when the strings bow again, slithering aggressively & ushering in a dramatically softer section. This presents the work’s first obviously melodic material in muted brass; the strings are jittery at first, but they get drawn into & continue the melody, while the toms again can be heard at the fringes. Indirectly, they break the episode’s spell, causing the brass & strings to forge ahead loudly, & while momentum appears to be gradually building, Nørgård keeps it in check, creating an extended tension that ultimately dissolves as the orchestra retreats to softer climes.
The second movement, following short overtures from clarinet & oboe, explodes in a triadic blast of C major proportions, its aftershocks & echoes causing one to wonder whether there’s a fanfare or a chorale wanting to be heard. But instead it submerges into mystery, Nørgård hinting at the makings of something within the resultant textures, something compelling but perhaps defeated. It passes to a unified but disparate convolution of ideas—melodic shapes in the winds, held together by the brass—with a pervading sense of lushness beneath the surface, before the strings get pushy, seemingly fighting for a pulse; this pushes to the limit the sense of unity, & (like the toms in the previous movement) it becomes almost possible to hear the strings as a second music going against the prevailing pulseless material everywhere else. But this time, no pulse ensues, & the orchestra sags back into portamenti & fractured pairs of notes in the winds, & even a frantic effort from the piano can’t prevent it from dissolving back into the spare atmosphere with which the movement began.
Nørgård marks the third & final movement ‘Allegro’, but this seems more & more aspirational as it unfolds. The start is emphatically bouncy, jaunty even, replete with clarinet slides & wild brass unisons, & for a while the textures become what one might call ‘faberian’, hectic but directionless, before a melodic sense starts to grow but is swiftly overpowered by the toms. Proceedings are halted, & now things become very strange, entering a dream-like episode focussing on the strings (the toms remain in the background). Again the piece halts, & when it continues the orchestra feels more nebulous than ever, at something of a distance. The music peters out, surviving only in drawn-out woodwind notes; slides creep in, & briefly there’s an earnest passage of highly lyrical material from the strings, exploring their higher reaches. This lyrical tone spreads into the wind & brass (by now the instruction ‘Allegro’ seems impossibly far away) whereupon a curious little hiccup brings the Symphony to an end.
Part of what confounded listeners last time around was Nørgård’s predilection for superimposing seemingly conflicting moods on top of each other, & while his Symphony No. 7 does this too, the overall sense of clarity seems very much stronger, despite the lack of (or, indeed, the need for) a narrative sense of direction. This might be due to a combination of the richness & softness of Nørgård’s writing, which is especially pronounced in this piece; but regardless, his Symphony No. 7 is an outstanding achievement, beautiful & bewildering in equal measure. -5against4.com/
Master of the Infinite Series - Nørgård’s Second Symphony
Per Nørgård (1932-) has been Denmark’s leading modernist composer since the 1960s.
His fertile musical imagination has led to the creation of seven
symphonies over the course of fifty years, the most recent premiering as
recently as 2006. Nørgård's music is rigorously constructed but
surprisingly approachable, in some cases even ecstatically enjoyable.
Among
the deeds Nørgård (pronounced "Ner-gore") is known for is the planning
of large scale compositions around the same principles that would
eventually be formalized in the idea of the “fractal”
was even coined. The key to his prescient anticipation of fractals is
his use of a specific music-composition device that he (and he alone)
invented. Since
1959, a great deal of Nørgård's music has been based on what he called
the “infinite series.” (alternatively "infinity series"). His Second Symphony, a one movement work lasting about one half hour, is among his first and most rigorous applications of this tool. Here’s how it works:
Nørgård’s infinite series is actually an integer sequence produced by a relatively simple algorithm that “unpacks” a single musical interval. A single interval is all you
need to generate an unstoppable Nørgård sequence. Say you want to begin
a piece with the melody G - A. Let’s assume just white notes (diatonic)
are in use. From this melody, Nørgård would extract an essential piece
of info, the ascending +1 “go up by one” interval between G and A. Then,
he composes out that interval, using its inverted form as instructions
on what the next pitch shall be: go -1 away from G. Thus, the 3rd note
in the sequence is 1 below G, or F. He does the same for A, only with
the original
interval, so that the 4th note in the series is +1 from A, or B. We’ve
got a nice little tune, already fanning away from G! The instructions
we’re following are essentially: take
each new interval that appears in the sequence starting at the front,
and go that far (in inversion) from the second to last note in sequence,
and then go that far (uninverted) from the last note in the sequence.
Infinity Series Algorithm for Initial Interval +1 (white-note) step. Click to expand. |
Continue generating the melody,2
and you’ll begin seeing notes slightly further away from the starting
point. But not by much – a fairly (statistically) tight grip around the
starting range is always retained, and big leaps tend to be followed by
leaps in the opposite direction. The resulting succession of pitches is
what mathematicians call non-monotonic. No, they’re not referring to its
lack of a clearly defined central pitch! Rather, it’s the tendency to
avoid continuous motion in the same direction; the iterative process
Nørgård uses produces unstable melodies, constantly flopping up and
down, locally unpredictable but globally secure.
Pick any sample slice of this pitch sequence and it’ll likely look pretty similar to any other given slice. But in order to take advantage of the more rarefied property of self-similarity, these resemblances must show up on multiple levels. Cue Nørgård’s truly recursive compositional process in the Second Symphony.
Pick any sample slice of this pitch sequence and it’ll likely look pretty similar to any other given slice. But in order to take advantage of the more rarefied property of self-similarity, these resemblances must show up on multiple levels. Cue Nørgård’s truly recursive compositional process in the Second Symphony.
The clearest fractal property at work in this piece is the use of a
single G-to-A-flat based infinite series at several time-scales. The
strict sequential orderings of pitches can be difficult to discern
aurally, but you can easily tell that there are multiple orchestral
strata doing different but related things. At measure 60, the orchestra
splits into three streams. Woodwinds trade sprightly runs in constant
eighth notes, buzzing in the vicinity of G. Brass operate at a more
leisurely pace, generally 4x slower (half-notes), while the entire
string section explores pyramidal figures at a *much* slower rate –
roughly one change every 30 measures, or 1/120th the speed of the
metronomic winds. Around halfway through the piece, these three main
temporal roles suddenly begin alternating, shifting between players.
Sounds good in theory, but how does it all come out sounding? At times,
Nørgård’s procedures produce truly dazzling passages. Here’s a clip
(and, for the curious/masochistic, a score excerpt) of the initiation of
the woodwind stream. The recording is from Segerstam's glittering performance with the Danish National Symphony orchestra.
Woodwind Stream:
Woodwind Stream:
A great deal of the symphony sounds like this, with some stratum chugging away at their 8th-note pitch sequence while the rest of the orchestra slowly shifts in hue. Because pitch, as determined by the sequence, is usually so tightly wound around a certain range, our attention drifts to other matters, especially tone color, and Nørgård’s imagination for orchestral combinations is impressive. There are no catchy themes, but little shards of melodies do phase in and out of focus, and various ideas do come back. One is the throbbing unison pulses from brass at several form defining moments, celebrating the arrival at an important member of the infinite series with bizarre fanfare.
Brass Fanfare:
This is the kind of piece you can only write once, and Nørgård’s subsequent output, while equally ingenuous, tends to treat his infinite series less as the structuring principle as here, and more as a jumping off point. Which is not to say his Second Symphony isn’t successful. There is a hypnotic quality to this music quite unlike anything from the minimalists. And a sense of yawning expanse that pushes beyond much of the “sonorist” work from the 60s. Whether he beat chaos-theorists to the punch with his unpredictable, recursive music or not, Per Nørgård certainly created the bar and then raised it ridiculously high for anyone wishing to write a “fractal symphony.”
Frank Lehman
1. This pretty extraordinary website has tons info on (and can play back!) any integer sequence you can dream up, including several from and inspired by Nørgård. For example the following functions specify the "infinite series" sequence beginning with 0-1: [pitch(starting place) = 0 ; pitch (2n places) = - pitch(n places ; pitch (2n + 1 places) = pitch(n places) + 1]
2.
A “fun” exercise, if you’d like to try yourself. Check with the website
above to see if you’re right, or consult Kullberg, “Beyond Infinity” in
The Music of Per Nørgård in Fourteen Interpretive Essays. - http://unsungsymphonies.blogspot.com/2010/08/master-of-infinite-series-nrgards.html
Linking the three infinity hierarchies
By the beginning of the 70s, therefore, Per Nørgård had
discovered hierarchical infinity systems in the fields of melody, rhythm and harmony -
used for the first time, though not integrated, in the opera Gilgamesh (1971-72).
It would be a convincing move if the three systems could be made to function as a unified
complex - a 'synaesthetic' interplay of three different expressions of the same
phenomenon. But how does one get melody, rhythm and harmony to interact in this way? |
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In this example there is an octave interval between the upper part and the middle part and between the middle part and the lowest part. Melodically and rhythmically the octave ratio 2:1 is expressed in the ratios between the wavelengths of the parts. If the upper part is WL 1, the middle part is WL 2 - it is played at half tempo, or to put it another way, it plays every other note, which produces a melody that corresponds to this wavelength, that is, the inversion. It is thus obvious how the link can be made for powers of two (2:4:8:16:32: 64, etc.). The problem becomes more complicated when we have to treat the numbers in between. How does one express Partials 3, 5 and 7 in the melodic dimension? |
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In the superharmonic spectrum the fifth can be viewed as the ratio 3:2. Partial 3 oscillates in relation to Partial 2 at a frequency in the order of 3:2 (the fifth E5-A4 for example at 660:440 Hz). Rhythmically this could be expressed as a polyrhythmic 3 against 2. But how should it be expressed as a melody? Of which notes should a wavelength with 50% more notes than the WL 2 of the example (which is a version of the infinity series) consist? A necessary condition for maintaining the identity of the melodic infinity series is that there are an equal number of notes in each part, or twice as many in one of them or four times as many, and so on. In other words, we cannot set three notes of the series against two. If the interval ratios and numerical ratios of the fifth and the other odd partials (3, 5, 7, 9, 11, etc.) are to be converted to melodies, they must be related to one of infinity series already known as WL 1, 2, 4, 8, etc. |
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Instead of the polyrhythmic patterns, Per Nørgård brings the golden section to his aid, for this principle expresses a duple and a triple ratio simultaneously: three lengths are created when one length is divided into two. The equivalent of the fifth in the rhythmic dimension thus becomes for Per Nørgård a single golden section, i.e., two notes (3:5) under an arch, and he then determines that the fifth will use the same wavelength (i.e., the infinity series) as the octave, or the layer immediately below. |
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Per Nørgård now develops this idea further
with the next notes in the overtone hierarchy. The next after the fifth (Partial 3) is the
third (Partial 5) - disregarding Partial 4, which has already been mentioned as the double
octave. The third is related to the double octave in terms of the number of notes. As far
as the golden proportions are concerned, four notes with golden proportions are gathered
under one arch (ratios 3:5:8:5). The next odd partial (Partial 7) has twice as many notes,
and the golden proportion becomes eight notes under one arch (3:5:8:5:8:13:8:5). |
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One can conceive of a model to link the three infinity systems, a model that would serve as a kind of 'composition machine'. Each note of the series 'bears up' a section of the harmonic infinity series (superharmonic or subharmonic), so that a given part constantly remains at a particular level of the hierarchy of partials (level of the fifth, level of the third). Each part is given the rhythmic structure that is valid for that particular level of partials. This may appear as in the following example, where the level of the seventh has eight notes (and the series is non-inverted), while the level of the third only has four (and the series is inverted), the level of the fifth only two (non-inverted series) and the fundamental has only one note (inverted series). |
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Or it may appear as below, in this example
from Libra, where all the parts play on the
same wavelength, i.e., there are just as many notes at all levels. |
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In the latter example, the individual parts are not rhythmically related as in the former; but each of the three upper parts is in golden proportions in relation to the duration it subdivides. Though this example, as a model, only shows a heavy colonnade of parallel seventh chords, (perhaps upwardly developed), yet the golden rhythms make these chord columns undulate so gently and organically that one begins to envisage how a flexible harmonic landscape can be created from this material. The model must not be confused with the work of art, of course; only the artist's creative manipulation of the theoretical model can make music of it. The model in itself produces only one 'work'. Although this technique for linking the infinity systems is still far from fully developed and may appear primitive and monotonous, it has already supplied the inspirational spark for several highly original and widely different works like Canon for orgel (Canon for organ) (1971), Turn and Spell (1973 and 1973) and Libra (1973). See moreover the article entitled The golden section in Per Nørgård's oeuvre. |
http://www.pernoergaard.dk/eng/ideer/hierarkisk2.html
• Sinfonia
austera, 1st Symphony, 1953-55 • Trio No. 1, 1955 • Konstellationer (Constellations),1958 • Voyage into the Golden Screen, 1968 • Symphony No. 2,1970 • Libra, 1973 • Turn, 1973 • Symphony No. 3,1972-75 • Siddharta, 1974-79 |
• Wie ein Kind
(Like a Child), 1979-80 • Drømmesange
(Dream Songs),1981 • Symphony No. 4,1981 • I Ching, 1982 • Najader (The Naiads), 1986 • Violin concerto Helle Nacht,1986-87 • Symphony No. 5, 1990 • Concerto in due tempi (Piano concerto), 1994-95 |
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The Music of Per Norgard: Fourteen Interpretative Essays.
Per Norgard stands firmly in the line of
Nielsen, Sibelius and Vagn Holmboe: his interest in organic consistency
in musical composition clearly derives from his illustrious
predecessors. Sibelius particularly impressed Norgard, though in many
works central to his output he has used a personal post-serial means of
achieving and ensuring consistency. The 'hierarchies' of his writing,
as the present book points out, derive from the 'levels' of rhythmic
activity found in Sibelius's Fifth Symphony; this manner of writing -
based on the so-called infinity series which he used throughout the
1960s and '70s - is rightly well covered in the present volume, though
other stages of his development are not treated in equal depth. The
pre-1960s music of the post-Sibelius type - for example the marvellous
First Symphony (Sinfonia austera), which is such a remarkable
achievement for a 22-year-old - would repay a thorough investigation,
though none is offered here. Much also might be said of the works
written since Norgard's discovery, around 1980, of Adolf Wolfli
(1864-1930), who produced a vast array of astonishing paintings and
writings during the 35 years he spent in a mental asylum; yet Norgard's
late music is discussed (without much detail) only in the opening
essay by Jorgen Jensen (since the final essay in the book is the
composer's own account of his early years, one doubts whether the
ordering of the collection is the most helpful for readers new to
Norgard's music).
It would appear that Norgard evolved his 'infinity series' ahead of the discovery of 'fractals' by chaos theorists. These 'fractals' have much in common with the 'infinity series'; indeed, the apparent interdependence of music and science in this area causes the volume to make a plea for greater interface between the arts and the sciences. Norgard would warmly welcome such an interface, fascinated as he is by ideas from science and astrology as well as from oriental philosophy. As will be evident from the book, an 'infinity series' that starts with a rising step is likely to end up with the melodic line G-A-F-B-A-G-E-C-F-B etc. (or that shape starting on a different pitch). One might well imagine that a composer would be fettered by using such a background to numerous works. Yet the system is flexible, for the composer can choose pitches from various 'wavelengths' of the melodic series (at different levels the pitches have a perceptible relationship to the fundamental 'infinity series'), and he uses inversions, retrogrades, retrograde inversions and transpositions; in no way is the composer limited by the system. Norgard has produced works of widely different character by using it; indeed, the very breadth of his output makes him a fascinating subject of study. His works vary from folklike songs and chorales to pieces approaching those of the minimalists and works of such complexity that the listener is advised to concentrate on only one layer at a time. Norgard sometimes twists or ignores the system for musical purposes; and one may wonder whether the vast apparatus of underlying theory is strictly necessary. Yet he himself maintains that many of his inspirations would not have occurred to him without the 'infinity series'.
The main concern of the present set of essays is the music written with Norgard's 'infinity series' as its background: here the thorough essays by Karl Aage Rasmussen and Erling Kullberg are invaluable. Until these two splendid essays have been read, references to the 'infinity series' and 'golden rhythms' that occur in the earlier essays - that on Norgard and Wolfli by Jorgen Jensen and on the Nordic qualities of Norgard's melodic lines by Hans Gefors - are scarcely understandable. Coupled with these discussions of the 'infinity series' is the treatment, albeit brief, of 'tone lakes' in Anders Beyer's essay. (Some may be amused - or mystified - by the footnote on page 143, which refers to a music example thus: 'The four motives [of the 'tone lakes'] are interwoven. The circular presentation clarifies [sic] their seamless relationship.')
Other essays give a broader view of Norgard's music. They deal with the choral music (Jean Christensen), the percussion music (Ivan Hansen; here again there is a discussion of the 'infinity series'), the dramatic music (Jens Brincker) and the organ music (Jens Christensen). Interspersed with these are essays on Norgard's place in contemporary European music (Julian Anderson), on Martin Heidegger and the composer (Svend Nielsen; this essay ends with a discussion of the Fifth Symphony), a splendid overview by Stephen Johnson, and a personal view from another leading Danish composer, Poul Ruders.
Most of the material in the book is translated from the Danish by Jean Christensen, Marsha Henriksen and, principally, James Manley. Danish is a difficult language to translate; most renderings here are well done, but there are places where the English is either unidiomatic or difficult to decipher. Two examples will suffice: 'Or quite simply because the metamorphosis has been achieved, and I is another' (p. 55); and 'Heidegger describes this experience by saying that "world worlds" (Welt weltet) - it manifests itself and become insistently clear' (p. 177). But 'insistently clear' this certainly is not. Word-for-word translation does not usually help the reader very much; and it cannot do so here when 'world' has been obsolete as a verb in English since the early seventeenth century (and was, indeed, always rare). There is a worryingly large number of misprints; and Ex. 13, referred to on page 142, does not appear in my copy. Otherwise the book is well produced and offered at a fair price, particularly when one considers the excellent CD that comes with it (in a pouch attached inside the front cover), providing invaluable illustrations of many of the points raised in the essays. The volume will be extremely valuable for non-Danish speakers who do not have access to the Danish writings on Norgard, and it brings to an international audience a composer who has yet to command the recognition he deserves. It is thus very welcome: it gives a fair and informative picture of an important figure in twentieth-century music.- LIONEL PIKE
Danish
Composer Per Nørgård (born 1932) spent much of his career composing
with the "infinity series," a system for generating pitches that he
developed in 1959. In 1979, his musical style was turned on its head
after he encountered the work of Adolf Wölfli, an early 20th century
Swiss artist who was severely psychotic and spent his adult life in an
asylum. Nørgård wrote, "I experienced the encounter with Wölfli's
chaotic art as a mental dive into a dark, different world -- eerie,
unpredictable, but fascinating and above all highly specific." That
serves as an apt description of the 1982 opera he wrote about Wölfli's
life, The Divine Circus. Scored for six soloists and small chorus, six
dancers, six percussionists, amplified cello, and synthesizer, the
opera, with a libretto the composer compiled from the artist's
voluminous writings, certainly embodies the disjunction, randomness,
fantasy, anxiety, alienation, and sheer terror of a psychotic's life.
Wölfli is portrayed by four singers, with personalities that are
frequently in conflict with one another, and the remaining singers
fluidly morph in and out of a variety of characters from the artist's
fevered imagination.
Nørgård's music is frequently fascinating (often when the percussionists are playing without the voices) and he is a master of creating dramatic tension (which, in this piece, is almost unrelenting). The lack of a coherent narrative and the apparent chaos of much of the music make the opera rough going as a purely aural experience, although it's easy to imagine that on-stage it could have a powerful impact. The finale, based on a tune by Wölfli, is absolutely lovely and wonderfully cathartic after everything that has come before it. The opera receives a fabulous performance in this recording taken from a production at Stadttheater Bern, led by Dorian Keilhack. The singers, who are rarely called on to produce what could be called conventionally beautiful sounds, throw themselves into their roles with commitment and abandon; these are hell-for-leather performances that sound like they are holding absolutely nothing back. The sound of Dacapo's SACD is clean and realistically atmospheric. Intriguing but inscrutable, The Divine Circus should be of interest to Nørgård's fans and opera lovers with a taste for extreme adventure. - Allmusic.com, Stephen Eddins
It would appear that Norgard evolved his 'infinity series' ahead of the discovery of 'fractals' by chaos theorists. These 'fractals' have much in common with the 'infinity series'; indeed, the apparent interdependence of music and science in this area causes the volume to make a plea for greater interface between the arts and the sciences. Norgard would warmly welcome such an interface, fascinated as he is by ideas from science and astrology as well as from oriental philosophy. As will be evident from the book, an 'infinity series' that starts with a rising step is likely to end up with the melodic line G-A-F-B-A-G-E-C-F-B etc. (or that shape starting on a different pitch). One might well imagine that a composer would be fettered by using such a background to numerous works. Yet the system is flexible, for the composer can choose pitches from various 'wavelengths' of the melodic series (at different levels the pitches have a perceptible relationship to the fundamental 'infinity series'), and he uses inversions, retrogrades, retrograde inversions and transpositions; in no way is the composer limited by the system. Norgard has produced works of widely different character by using it; indeed, the very breadth of his output makes him a fascinating subject of study. His works vary from folklike songs and chorales to pieces approaching those of the minimalists and works of such complexity that the listener is advised to concentrate on only one layer at a time. Norgard sometimes twists or ignores the system for musical purposes; and one may wonder whether the vast apparatus of underlying theory is strictly necessary. Yet he himself maintains that many of his inspirations would not have occurred to him without the 'infinity series'.
The main concern of the present set of essays is the music written with Norgard's 'infinity series' as its background: here the thorough essays by Karl Aage Rasmussen and Erling Kullberg are invaluable. Until these two splendid essays have been read, references to the 'infinity series' and 'golden rhythms' that occur in the earlier essays - that on Norgard and Wolfli by Jorgen Jensen and on the Nordic qualities of Norgard's melodic lines by Hans Gefors - are scarcely understandable. Coupled with these discussions of the 'infinity series' is the treatment, albeit brief, of 'tone lakes' in Anders Beyer's essay. (Some may be amused - or mystified - by the footnote on page 143, which refers to a music example thus: 'The four motives [of the 'tone lakes'] are interwoven. The circular presentation clarifies [sic] their seamless relationship.')
Other essays give a broader view of Norgard's music. They deal with the choral music (Jean Christensen), the percussion music (Ivan Hansen; here again there is a discussion of the 'infinity series'), the dramatic music (Jens Brincker) and the organ music (Jens Christensen). Interspersed with these are essays on Norgard's place in contemporary European music (Julian Anderson), on Martin Heidegger and the composer (Svend Nielsen; this essay ends with a discussion of the Fifth Symphony), a splendid overview by Stephen Johnson, and a personal view from another leading Danish composer, Poul Ruders.
Most of the material in the book is translated from the Danish by Jean Christensen, Marsha Henriksen and, principally, James Manley. Danish is a difficult language to translate; most renderings here are well done, but there are places where the English is either unidiomatic or difficult to decipher. Two examples will suffice: 'Or quite simply because the metamorphosis has been achieved, and I is another' (p. 55); and 'Heidegger describes this experience by saying that "world worlds" (Welt weltet) - it manifests itself and become insistently clear' (p. 177). But 'insistently clear' this certainly is not. Word-for-word translation does not usually help the reader very much; and it cannot do so here when 'world' has been obsolete as a verb in English since the early seventeenth century (and was, indeed, always rare). There is a worryingly large number of misprints; and Ex. 13, referred to on page 142, does not appear in my copy. Otherwise the book is well produced and offered at a fair price, particularly when one considers the excellent CD that comes with it (in a pouch attached inside the front cover), providing invaluable illustrations of many of the points raised in the essays. The volume will be extremely valuable for non-Danish speakers who do not have access to the Danish writings on Norgard, and it brings to an international audience a composer who has yet to command the recognition he deserves. It is thus very welcome: it gives a fair and informative picture of an important figure in twentieth-century music.- LIONEL PIKE
Per Nørgård: Der göttliche Tivoli (The Divine Circus)
Nørgård's music is frequently fascinating (often when the percussionists are playing without the voices) and he is a master of creating dramatic tension (which, in this piece, is almost unrelenting). The lack of a coherent narrative and the apparent chaos of much of the music make the opera rough going as a purely aural experience, although it's easy to imagine that on-stage it could have a powerful impact. The finale, based on a tune by Wölfli, is absolutely lovely and wonderfully cathartic after everything that has come before it. The opera receives a fabulous performance in this recording taken from a production at Stadttheater Bern, led by Dorian Keilhack. The singers, who are rarely called on to produce what could be called conventionally beautiful sounds, throw themselves into their roles with commitment and abandon; these are hell-for-leather performances that sound like they are holding absolutely nothing back. The sound of Dacapo's SACD is clean and realistically atmospheric. Intriguing but inscrutable, The Divine Circus should be of interest to Nørgård's fans and opera lovers with a taste for extreme adventure. - Allmusic.com, Stephen Eddins
FIGURA, HOLLAND HOUSE AND PER NØRGÅRD |
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Holland House and FIGURA Ensemble has been allowed into a previously unknown backlist of one of Denmark's greatest living composers Per Nørgård. | |
TECNI · a chaos cabaret for and by Per Nørgård, who this year can celebrate his 80 years birthday. World Premiere 21st of April 2012 TECNI is the result of a television programme from 2007 (Den 11. Time) with Per Nørgård. This allowed the public to see him play works he had written, as a child and teenager, and that had not yet been performed publicly. They were written as accompaniment to him and his brother Bent Nørgård’s own comic strips. The material had emerged from their hiding through the brothers' former nanny, who had kept their logbooks, film rolls and manuscripts in all these years. The program inspired director Jacob F. Shokking and sound designer Gert Sørensen to create a musical show. Each song has original text by Per and Bent Nørgård and it is a rather different genre than the Per Nørgård we know today. Here Nørgård composed the samba, tango, jitterbug and real Ballroom music from a powerful fascination of those days American entertainment music. Based on Per Nørgård's tecni comic strips, the show will take place on a completely new Copenhagen stage at The Betty Nansen Theatre: The SILO at EDISON. It will be a world premiere and a housewarming party in one. In 1979, Nørgård went to Louisiana Museum of Modern Art to attend a Schønberg Concert. On his way through the museum he ran in to the exhibition “Outsiders” with the mentally ill, Swiss artist and poet Adolf Wölfli. Nørgård was so fascinated by Wölfli’s art that influenced many of his compositions in the subsequent years. The libretto is written by the Danish writer Ursula Andkjær Olsen. She has gathered and partially adapted texts by Per Nørgård and Bent Nørgaard and Adolf Wölfli in to a world populated by peculiar figures from Nørgård’s comic strips. Ursula Andkjær Olsen’s inspirational compilation forms the basic text of what is best described as a chaos cabaret with a wide emotional spectrum. No idyll without disaster – no disaster without idyll TECNI takes place in an imaginary New York. It’s a medley of the young Nørgård’s idea of a mega-Manhattan, inspired by the post-war American entertainment music and the rambling tale of a fantasy New York that Adolf Wölfli created from contemporary illustrated magazines in his cell in a mental hospital in Switzerland. The show moves from today’s Nørgård, behind the piano – his drawn childhood tales of Tor and Loki’s adventurous journey from Valhalla to New York – to Adolf Wölfli’s Avantgarde Travel Agency to explore New York's parquet cobbled streets – and to the pompous ball rooms of the imaginary city where people dance Nørgård’s "OrangoTango". TECNI’s unruly musical and dramatic universe finds its visual counterpart in Jacob F. Schokking’s staging. The show unfolds in a dynamic video set design, which makes it possible to orchestrate both grandiose visual sequences and intimate theatre in surprising shifts. Like the text bridges the gap between the young and the adult Nørgård, the audience will be able to hear music from both the light and the serious section of Nørgård’s work. The show relates music dramatically, and not chronologically, to Nørgård's oeuvre in order to create a unique harmonic experience. TECNI is a tribute to the irrepressible imagination, primarily seen and heard through Per Nørgård's multifaceted music. |
Discography
LibraPer NørgårdSACD 6.220622 (2012) |
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Sceneries for percussion and ensemblePer NørgårdCD 8.226092 (2012) |
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DIEM 25 AnniversaryDIEMCD 8.226559-60 (2012) |
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Will-o’-the-Wisps in Town; Out of the Cradle Endlessly RockingPer NørgårdCD 8.226085 (2012) |
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Accordion ConcertosPer Nørgård, Ole Schmidt, Anders Koppel, Martin LohseSACD 6.220592 (2012) |
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Hymn to the Sun - Works for a cappella choirHolmboe, Bruun, Nørgård, Holten, Koppel, Jersild, RudersCD 8.226051 (2010)
The Danish National Vocal Ensemble in newer works by some of Denmark’s internationally renowned composers
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Der göttliche TivoliPer NørgårdSACD 6.220572-73 (2010)
A marvellous portrayal of Swizz artist Adolf Wölfli and a key-work in Nordic music drama
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A Light HourPer NørgårdCD 8.226100 (2010)
A world wide percussion journey brilliantly realized by Gert Mortensen and his ensemble Percurama
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Conversations for violin and pianoKoppel, Nørgård, Ruders, Rosing-Schow, NordentoftCD 8.226519 (2009)
One hour of short youthful and charming pieces by five important post-war composers
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Piano WorksPer NørgårdCD 8.226089 (2009)
Animals, friends and The Beatles appear on this collection of Nørgård’s imaginative piano music
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SeadriftPer NørgårdCD 8.226067 (2009)
Three celestial, dazzlingly beautiful works for soprano that explore the harmony of the universe
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Symphonies 3 and 7Per NørgårdSACD 6.220547 (2009)
Sensational recording of Nørgård’s 7th Symphony and his epoch-making Symphony no. 3
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String Quartets 7, 8, 9 and 10Per NørgårdCD 8.226059 (2008)
Nørgård’s latest string quartets recorded in close collaboration with four young musicians
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Secret MelodiesPer NørgårdCD 8.226037 (2007)
The English pianist Rolf Hind takes centre stage in works by Nørgård – and himself
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Recycled
CD 8.226539
(2006)
Modern recompositions of classical hits like "The Flight of the Bumble-Bee" and Monti’s "Czardas"
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The Little Mermaid; The Will-o'-the-Wisps Go to TownBent Sørensen; Per NørgårdCD 8.226046 (2006)
Two new Danish masterworks inspired by Hans Christian Andersen
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Works for Harp and ensemblePer NørgårdCD 8.226039 (2006)
Magisk musik, der løfter harpen til spirituelle højder
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L'Homme Armé - Works for Solo Cello
CD 8.226007
(2005)
Monumental collection of new works for solo cello – virtuosic and powerful!
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Circles
CD 8.226517
(2005)
Music for trumpet and trombone by Per Nørgård, Peter Bruun and others
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Mythic Morning - Choral Works IIPer NørgårdSACD 6.220510 (2005)
Virtuoso choral works – a beautiful, seductive introduction to Nørgård’s universe
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Passage - Danish Piano TriosTrio OndineCD 8.226009 (2005)
Danish piano trios throughout a century, including an unknown work of Carl Nielsen’s youth
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Nuit des HommesPer NørgårdCD 8.226011 (2004)
Per Nørgård’s shattering anti-war opera for two singers with texts by Apollinaire
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Breath and WingsJens SchouCD 8.226507 (2004)
Improvisation music and new works for clarinet
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Six Works for Saxophone and PercussionDuoDenumCD 8.226504 (2004)
Brand new repertoire for the imaginative combination percussion and saxophone
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Orchestral WorksPer NørgårdCD 8.226014 (2003)
Three unique orchestral pieces, including the watershed Voyage into the Golden Screen
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SongsPer NørgårdCD 8.224170 (2002)
Per Nørgård himself accompanies on this unique recording of his songs
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Singe die GärtenPer NørgårdCD 8.224115 (1999)
Fascinating, seductive music with the Grammy-winning vocal ensemble Ars Nova
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Oboe and Piano
CD 8.224043
(1996)
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Luna; Symphony No. 3; TwilightPer NørgårdCD 8.224041 (1996) |
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Works for CelloPer NørgårdCD 8.224007 (1995)
Five highly varied fruits of Per Nørgård’s fascination with the cello
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A Drummer's Tale, episode onePer NørgårdCD 8.224024-25 (1995)
A vigorous collaboration between the percussionist Gert Sørensen and Nørgård, who himself plays keyboards and sings
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SiddhartaPer NørgårdCD 8.224031-32 (1995) |
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Wind Quintets
CD 8.224001
(1994)
Carl Nielsen’s masterpiece and more recent quintets by Abrahamsen, Holmboe and Nørgård
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Music for GuitarRosing Olsen, Nørholm, Nørgård, Gerfors, Gudmundsen-HolmgreenDCCD 9316 (1993) |
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Gilgamesh; Voyage Into the Golden ScreenPer NørgårdDCCD 9001 (1992) |
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ConcertosPer NørgårdDCCD 9002 (1992) |
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