October 17, 2009: Concerted effort

The title of the second program in the Philharmonia Baroque Orchestra season was The Concerto – An Adversarial Friendship.  Perhaps to alleviate some of the confusion surrounding the title of the first program, visiting leader Elizabeth Wallfisch appealed to semantics to explain the title.  She observed to the audience that the word "concerto" has conflicting roots.  One root leads to unity, as in the concept of a "concerted effort."  The other is divisive, based on the "con" prefix, shared with words such as "contrary" or, for that matter, "conflict."  From this she concluded that a concerto is driven by the opposing motives of the unity of the ensemble and the separation of the solo voice(s).

This seemed perfectly satisfactory, except that the program offered only two concertos "in name," one by Georg Philipp Telemann and the other by Johann Sebastian Bach, and a Telemann sonata for four violins that was very much a concerto "in spirit."  (Wallfisch's remarks preceded this sonata.)  The rest of the evening might have been better entitled Early Program Music (not "the origins of program music," mind you, since some of the earliest secular music was programmatic).  This was represented by two of the "fasciculae" from Georg Muffat's Florigium Secundum collection ("Inseparable Friendship" and "Noble Youth"), Heinrich Ignaz Franz von Biber's "Nightwatchman's Call" and "Battle" depictions, and Johann Heinrich Schmelzer's "Fencing School" balletto.

These works all reminded the listener of how far the concept of program music has progressed since the seventeenth century.  Each consists of a series of short movements, each of which offers a single depiction.  Length is achieved only through the number of movements, with little thought to an overall narrative arc or metaphorical journey.  Coming from a time when music was more part of a diverting background than a focus of attention, one wonders if these pieces were intended as recreational puzzles at a social gathering:  Could the guests really "hear" the moans of the wounded musketeer in the final movement of Biber's "Battle;"  or were the depictions of gunshots realistic enough to make them recoil in fright?

Introducing Bach's E major violin concerto, BWV 1042, at the end of the evening, Wallfisch observed that the program served to establish the historical context of making music from which Bach's practices emerged.  This should help us appreciate just how radical Bach was, whether it is in the far more disciplined dramatism behind the melodic material he selected to set sacred texts or in his seemingly unending capacity for invention in his keyboard suites (which I have taken to be the ultimate inspiration for John Coltrane's jazz improvisations).  Unfortunately, last night's performance of Bach was not particularly well served by being preceded by roughly two hours of social diversion that was never intended for serious listening, nor did it rise above that context to highlight the significance of Bach's differences.

Ultimately, the evening was dominated by the musical equivalent of parlor games, all executed dutifully but without very much spirit.  Any one of these novelty items had attributes of interest;  but the "package" was too much of a good (or at least diverting) thing.  (In a modern context this was less like spending an evening with John Coltrane and more like listening to one of Dr. Demento's radio programs in its entirety!)  The result was that, by the conclusion of the concert, little energy was left for Bach on either side of the proscenium;  so Wallfisch's observation about Bach bringing in a "new age" was simply not demonstrated by the music as performed.