(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