(As some of you may know, I sing in about four different choirs in New
Orleans. One of them will be doing Orff's Carmina Burana. Somehow, the
administrative dynamo in charge of this chorus persuaded me to take charge
of "singer education," which has nothing to do with vocal production or
sight-reading skills -- neither one of which I could teach -- but with
providing info on the pieces we're doing this year, including Beethoven's
Ninth and Schoenberg's "Survivor from Warsaw" [on the SAME CONCERT! So
there!]. I'm passing along my first effort as new head of Singer
Education.)
Carl Orff (1895-1982) wrote this most popular of his works in the
Thirties. It premiered in 1937 in Frankfurt. Orff entertained within
himself an antiquarian streak, a love of old manuscripts - not only
for classical Greek and Latin texts, but for those of medieval Germany.
In music, he pioneered with performances of Renaissance works and
early operas, especially those of Claudio Monteverdi, who also favored
classical themes. Most people could care less about this stuff.
Orff's music, however, very powerfully puts it over. Orff later
grouped Carmina Burana (The Songs of Beuern) with two other works
under the title Trionfi: Catulli Carmina (The Songs of Catullus)
and Trionfo di Afrodite (The Triumph of Aphrodite). The triptych
doesn't really hang together, because the styles of the three "panels"
don't really fit together. Catulli Carmina (the best setting of
Catullus's poetry I know) is much more austere, and Trionfo di Afrodite
is more dreamlike. The folk strain of Carmina Burana, which contributes
so greatly to the work's appeal, fails to enter the other two parts.
Nevertheless, Orff connected all three parts as "scenic cantatas" -
that is, choral pieces meant to accompany staged dancing.
Orff composed Carmina Burana originally for a workers' chorus. As
a result, it fits amateur choirs like a good suit, although a really
good choir can make an even better effect. As I've said, the tunes
are simple and folk-like, although Orff, probably one of the twentieth
century's genius melodists, wrote every one of them. The chorus only
rarely has to negotiate counterpoint. These are songs in the sense
that most people understand the term: a melody accompanied. The
success of this work has gone far beyond normal concert venues.
Ballet companies have taken it up with great success, its strong
rhythms made for getting the body to move. Maestro Klauspeter
Seibel [music director of the Louisiana Philharmonic, and a fantastic
musician, one of the best conductors I've ever heard] once remarked,
"Orff's music seems to bypass the brain entirely and to head directly
for the feet." Parts of Carmina turn up in various commercials. Very
successful film composers have ripped it off - or, more politely,
appropriated it - for their own uses (listen to John Williams's score
for Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom sometime).
For his texts, Orff went to a manuscript of medieval German poetry
found in a Benedictine abbey in Beuern, which I believe is a region
of Bavaria. The texts Orff chose have little to do with religion,
however - rather wine, women, and food. In addition to a love for
old manuscripts, Orff loved beautiful women (as he got older, his
new wives got younger and younger). The texts were written by
wandering scholars, known as the goliardi, essentially low-level
clerics (or ex-clerics) who moved from place to place. The Church
apparently could not provide livings for them all (just as universities
today cannot hire every new Ph.D.), so the goliardi had to make out
as best they could. As many of the poems show, they had little love
for the church hierarchy, many of them writing bitingly satirical
verses against local abbots and bishops.
Since the texts are a hodge-podge, don't look too closely for artistic
unity in Orff's piece. The work falls into several large sections.
The first is a prelude that apostrophizes "Fortune, the Empress of
the World," and the poet laments his bad luck. The second, "In
Springtime," consists of two subgroups of love poems - the first
evoking the pastoralism of classical Greece and Rome, the second,
"On the Green," the German countryside.
"In the Tavern" comes next. It extols the joys of overdrinking,
over-eating, bull sessions, and bar life in general.
"The Court of Love" - no big surprise - collects more love poetry.
It differs from "Primo Vere" and "Uf dem Anger" in that love is no
longer treated as a game. The emotions run much more deeply, not
just sighing and yearning, but lust. It culminates in an apostrophe
to two legendary lovers, Blanziflor and Helena. This leads swiftly
to a brief recap of the prelude to Fortune.
Although it derives musically from such Stravinsky works of the
Twenties as Les Noces and Oedipus Rex particularly in its emphasis
on percussion (Stravinsky's "orchestra of hammers") and ostinato (a
persistent, usually rhythmic figure in the same instrument or set of
instruments), Carmina Burana nevertheless represents something new
in music - music pared down almost to the bone. Its dependence on
repetition, rather than on classical symphonic development, to make
its effect presages the minimalists of the Seventies and Eighties
(although most of those later composers would probably disown Orff).
Nevertheless, Orff's orchestra sings more colorfully than Stravinsky's
and, unlike the weaker minimalists, Orff generally knows when to move
on so that the listener doesn't get bored.
The usual large choral-orchestral repertoire - for example, Beethoven's
Ninth or Missa Solemnis - demands certain things of a choir: odd
harmonic changes, bristling counterpoint. Orff doesn't ask his choir
for these. His style here is so uncomplicated ("simple" implies
simple-minded, and this is an extremely sophisticated work) that basic
choral techniques, things that choral singers don't normally think
about when they try to surmount the usual hurdles, become extremely
important. The rhythm in particular stands out. Throughout Carmina
Burana, one hears the heavy tread of dancers. If the rhythm is flabby
and spongy, the work loses 90% of its effect. Orff's chorus creates
rhythm - dances, if you like - through the words. Consonants and
attacks have to be razor-sharp, otherwise the listener has little
idea where one word ends and another begins. Think of consonants as
the vocal equivalent of drumsticks and mallets, hard and soft.
Consonants enunciated clearly and together are one key to unlocking
the power of the Carmina. The second main component of the choral
style is the choir's ability to contrast dynamic extremes (loud
followed immediately by soft, and vice versa). The emotions of the
work are extreme. Orff often follows a punch to the gut with a caress
or puts the music on a long, slow simmer that suddenly erupts. He
asks a choir to follow him, often to turn on a dime, if the music is
not to lose its point.
I can recommend several recordings of Carmina (and there has been a
ton). My favorites include:
* Lucia Popp (S), Gerhard Unger (T), Raymond Wolansky (Bar.), John
Noble (Bar.); New Philharmonia Chorus (Chorus Master: Wilhelm Pitz),
Wandsworth School Boys' Choir (Chorus Master: Russell Burgess); New
Philharmonia Orchestra/Rafael Fruhbeck de Burgos (cond.) EMI CDM 7
69060 2. For my money, the best chorus.
* Judith Blegen (S), Kenneth Riegel (T), Peter Binder (Bar.);
Cleveland Orchestra Chorus and Boys' Choir (Chorus Master: Robert
Page); Cleveland Orchestra/Michael Tilson Thomas (cond.) Sony 33172.
A chorus just a hair less socko than Pitz's, but Judith Blegen will
melt your heart.
* Janice Harsanyi (S), Rudolf Petrak (T), Harve Presnell (Bar.);
Philadelphia Chorus and Orchestra (Chorus Master: Robert Page)/Eugene
Ormandy (cond.) Sony 87735. An extremely popular recording when it
came out, its chief attraction remains the spectacular baritone
soloist, Harve Presnell.
* Gundula Janowitz (S), Gerhard Stolze (T), Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau
(Bar.); Deutsche Oper Orchestra and Chorus/Eugen Jochum (cond.) DG
447437. One of the few recordings endorsed by Orff. I find the
chorus mushy and the reading way too smooth. So what does the
composer know?
* Sylvia Greenberg (S), James Bowman (counter-tenor), Stephen Roberts
(Bar.); Berlin Radio Symphony Chorus, Berlin Cathedral Boys' Choir,
Berlin Radio Symphony Orchestra/Riccardo Chailly (cond.) Decca
E4117022. Technically, just about perfect. The sound is the best
I've heard. Unusual, in that it replaces the tenor (in falsetto for
the "roasted swan" sequence) with a counter-tenor. Chailly is simply
one fine conductor. You may have trouble finding this recording in
the US, but it should be available from www.amazon.uk.co
Steve Schwartz
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