Louis Andriessen - De Staat (1991)

Probably the most famous and most recorded work by Louis Andriessen (b. 1939, Utrecht), this is De Staat in its 1990 recording for Nonesuch.  It was written (between 1972 and 1976) as a sort of commentary on politics in music - what if Plato had been correct that certain musical modes were 'damaging to the character'?  What if music could bring down governments?  The sung text is taken from the relevant sections of The Republic, ending with the line "Any alteration in the modes of music is always followed by alteration in the most fundamental laws of the state".

If not insurrectionist, De Staat is certainly interesting, and an absolute blast to listen to.  35 minutes of continuous music that might bring surface comparisons to Steve Reich, it's wilder, jerkier and, well, jazzier.  Andriessen had Count Basie, Stan Kenton and Charlie Parker in mind as much as anything in the classical sphere, and also favoured instrumentation beyond the regular orchestral palette - there's parts for electric guitars and bass.  Enjoy the revolution.

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extra Andriessen (and Adams)

Andriessen's De Snelheid (Velocity - written 1982-84) was based on his observations about how listeners perceive speed and acceleration in musical works.  Even more lively than De Staat, it's a wilfully gleeful 17 minutes investigating what it would sound like if you had a metronomic rhythm constantly getting faster, whilst the harmonic changes in the music kept slowing down.  In short, it sounds great.  It's accompanied on this 2002 disc from the BBC Music Magazine by some John Adams classics - Short Ride, Chairman Dances, and a really nice choral work that takes its texts from John Donne and Emily Dickinson.

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Henryk Górecki - Kleines Requiem / Lerchenmusik (1995)

In the aftermath of Henryk Górecki's sudden fame in the early 90s, when his re-recorded Third Symphony went global, the quiet and retiring composer just got on with the day job.  A commission for the Holland Festival became Kleines Requiem für eine Polka, and this first recording slotted neatly into the short series for Philips of Schönberg/DeLeeuw recordings that also produced Ustvolskaya's Compositions (a Nonesuch recording of Kleines Requiem also appeared in 1995). 

Despite the solemn introduction, it's not as funereal as the title might suggest, and the sudden contrasts in dynamics and tempo in the upbeat passages led the composer to muse on its premiere "God, what have I made now? Such circus music!".  There's definitely light-hearted fun to be had at times here, making the subsequent solemn themes all the more deeply touching.

Kleines Requiem drew comparisons to Messiaen, who Górecki openly admired, and even stronger links were noticed in an earlier commission for Denmark's Lerchenborg Castle annual music festival.  Lerchenmusik, completed in 1985, had very similar instrumentation to Quatour pour la Fin de Temps, and the slowly developing introduction was also a homage to Messiaen.  This work also has its share of contrasts, particularly in its strident, folkish middle movement, before finishing with quieter influences from plainchant and a quote from Beethoven.  This is a great recording of two really interesting works from Górecki's mature period, that just get more wonderful every time I listen to them.

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Galina Ustvolskaya - Compositions I - III (composed 1970-75, rec. '93, rel. '95)

We've had a lot of nice, sunny melodic music wafting through these pages of late; nothing wrong with that, and perfectly in tune with my general summer listening.  Don't want to lose sight of the harsher, more abrasive sounds that I love though, and that have always formed a core column of this blog - so here's something I've had hanging around for a while.

Russian composer Galina Ustvolskaya (1919-2006) spent her life in Petrograd/Leningrad/Saint Petersburg, and channeled all of the upheaval that went with those name changes into powerful, cathartic music.  I've still to take the plunge with her notorious Piano Sonatas, apparently physically painful to play; this is where I started, with the three 'Compositions' written during the early-mid 70s.  Each has a subtitle taken from traditional Mass liturgy, but unlike Sofia Gubaidulina Ustvolskaya never professed any faith, and her use of religious tropes was purely for artistic style.

As with much of Ustvolskaya's output, the Composition cycle uses odd instrumentation, with the three-part Composition I (Dona Nobis Pacem) being an ominous cat-and-mouse game for piano, tuba and piccolo.  Following this is the ten part, 21-minute Composition II (Dies Irae), which is the most dramatic demonstration of Ustvolskaya's 'blocks of sound' style, with its attendant extreme dynamics.  Heavily featured here is the "Ustvolskaya cube", a wooden chipboard box played with beaters, as well as piano and eight double basses.  After this exhausting listen, Composition III (Benedictus Qui Venit) for four flutes, four bassoons and piano is positively relaxing by comparison.  A hugely recommended listening experience - make sure you're sitting comfortably.

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