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MORTON FELDMAN For Bunita Marcus Unclassical Sub Rosa SR246 |
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| jjj For Bunita Marcus (1985) Interprété par Stephane Ginsburgh sur un Bösendorfer 225 |
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Extrait du début (5:36) "My past experience was not to 'meddle' with the material, but use my concentration as a guide to what might transpire. I mentionned this to Stockhausen once when he had asked me what my secret was. 'I don't push the sounds around.' Stockhausen mulled this over, and asked: 'Not even a little bit ?" Morton Feldman's own words are as valuable for the composer as they are for the performer. His music slowly draws you towards silence by a process of atomization or repetition -- as do some of Beethoven's or Schubert's late compositions. You realize therefore how useless it is to try to act, to push his music against its own will. You will experience something about interpretation: question the music and then use your concentration. Playing or listening to Morton Feldman leads you to very unique moments, like those you feel when you look at a starry Summer sky, unable to measure its dimensions because this is beyond your understanding. A sense of infinity within a finite space. Critiques Ginsburg's interpretation of For Bunita Marcus follows Feldman's words quoted in the sleeve notes about not pushing the sounds about; the notes are allowed to flow under their own remit like water falling through a sieve. The recording sounds almost ghostly, almost as if there is no pianist at the stool and the piano is singing softly to itself. It is a remarkable recording that complements the rest of Sub Rosa's unfortunately out of print Feldman catalogue. Although it is always wonderful to get a new recording, it would be nice for the label to get around to reissuing some of those previous releases. Feldman often gets overlooked in favour of the more tempestuous stars of the 20th century avant garde which is a damn shame as For Bunita Marcus firmly demonstrates. Derived from the exotic patterns of Near and Middle Eastern rugs, as well as the painting of his beloved abstract expressionists (Rothko, Pollock, Guston and Rauschenberg), this austere yet beautiful piece is a monumental celebration of timber and tone. Each note that gracefully falls from the hands of pianist Stephane Ginsburgh is infused with a long decay; the sustain pedal firmly pressed to the floor, creating a dreamlike state that alters the listener's perspective of time and space. It's as if a distant thunderstorm has laid sledge to the performance while the first droplets of rain already begun to descend. For over 70 minutes, piano clusters are atomised and repeated to create a vaporous tapestry and a sonic parallel to those pieces of fabric from which it draws its inspiration. Morton Feldman wrote For Frank O'Hara, his first piece with a title honoring a friend, in 1973, but it wasn't until the last six years of his life that his dedicatory pieces came to dominate his output, ranging in scope from the four minute For Aaron Copland to the four-and-a-half-hour For Philip Guston. For Bunita Marcus, for piano (1985), lasts a relatively chaste seventy minutes. The piece, like so much of Feldman's work, is notable for its quiet volume level, its sparse textures, and the lack of an easily discernible structure or compositional plan. This quote by Feldman, cited on the CD cover, helps explain his aesthetic: "My past experience was not to ‘meddle' with the material, but to use my concentration as a guide to what might transpire. I mentioned this to Stockhausen once when he had asked me what my secret was. ‘I don't push the sounds around.' Stockhausen mulled this over, and asked: ‘Not even a little bit?'" Based in the evidence of the music itself, the answer is apparently, "Not even a little bit." For Bunita Marcus makes Feldman sound like a minimalist, in the original sense of the term when it was taken over from the visual arts, before it became associated with the particular idioms of Terry Riley, Steve Reich and Philip Glass. Feldman makes use of a limited tonal palette, for the most part, as well as patterns that are not identical, but are nonetheless recognizable as recurring. The spareness of the textures (only rarely are two notes struck simultaneously) adds to the sense of art pared down to its most elemental components. The music's largely untroubled stasis conveys a quietness born out of serenity. Stephane Ginsburgh plays with delicacy, but with a confident touch -- the music itself may be emotionally reserved, but his performance is never tentative or cautious. Sub Rosa's clean, present sound allows the music to be appreciated without distraction. For Bunita Marcus is late period Morton Feldman. Composers like Feldman, John Cage, Luc Ferrari and Karlhein Stockhausen are admittedly difficult gambits to pursue with any overarching consensus; it’s probably best from this vantage point to just find an entry point into they untested waters and leap in. Here, the always-engaging Sub Rosa imprint continues its reissues of avant-garde 20th century classical compositions with this 71-minute solo piano piece that Feldman composed in 1985. This particular recording was performed by Stephane Ginsburgh on a Bosendorfer 225 grand piano in 2006. The results offer a sublime and occasionally haunting interplay between silence and musical notations. Anyone curious about Feldman will find this piano work a more inviting initiation than his more stringent and minimal arrangements for strings. It’s worth the introduction to a gargantuan body of work whose permutations will continue to be felt deep into the next century. On his recording of a collection of works for piano by Erik Satie, Reinbert de Leeuw leaves his mark on the pieces by drawing out each composition, elongating the spaces between notes and adding a sense of monumentality to the music. Some regard de Leeuw’s interpretation of Satie as revelatory, while others staunchly disagree, but, either way, it’s a clear illustration of the effect the personality of a performer can have on the music they’re playing. Pianist Stephane Ginsburgh seems not to have issue with such concerns on his performance of Morton Feldman’s For Bunita Marcus, stating “You realize how useless it is to try to act, to push his music against its own will.” On this disc, in which Ginsburgh plays one of Feldman’s last works for solo piano, the negative space between notes becomes an important part of the composition, though never at the expense of the piano’s sound. For Bunita Marcus can be a dramatic work, but make no mistake, the drama is inherent in the music, not its interpretation. Liens en rapport Chris Villars' exhaustive site on Morton Feldman |
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