Anahit, Poème lyrique dédié à Vénus by Giacinto Scelsi

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Interview with Ilya Gringolts

on the occasion of the performance of
“Anahit” Poème lyrique dédié à Vénus
by Giacinto Scelsi
5 July 2024
opening concert of the tenth edition of the Chigiana International Festival & Summer Academy “Tracce” in Siena.
Gianni Trovalusci (President)
Alessandra Carlotta Pellegrini (Scientific director)
from Fondazione Isabella Scelsi
Maestro Gringolts, considering your dynamic and multifaceted artistic career, there are many questions we would like to ask you.
Starting from your interest and sensitivity to philological aspects, what, in your opinion, are the most significant aspects of performances based on historically informed interpretative practices?
For me, the charm of these performances has always been what we could consider “archaeological”, where the joy of the deepening process would, for example, involve comparing sources of the piece to understand its origins, meaning, etc. On the other hand, there is the desire and possibility of discovering something new, an unfamiliar approach, considering that it is impossible to reconstruct exactly the sound of the era… I consider Nikolaus Harnoncourt as the best example of reference for this approach: he uses historically informed performance practice rigorously but always to support his extremely original musical ideas.
You are dedicated to both early music and contemporary music, in addition to the great Romantic repertoire. What similarities and differences do you find in these seemingly distant practices regarding approach to the instrument and attitudes towards performance practice?
For me, classifications on this point are difficult to understand; there is only good music and less good music. My interest in contemporary music has almost always been present, as I studied composition as a child; obviously, all music that is performed is contemporary to its time. As for early music, I prefer to play it on period instruments, for ease; it works better! However, the attitude is always the same: finding and conveying the feelings, colors, and emotions hidden in the scores, whether it’s Bach or Lachenmann. It’s obvious that at the beginning, certain technical aspects need to be learned – that takes some time – but the final approach remains the same.
n 2020, you founded the I&I Foundation with Maestro Ilan Volkov, aimed at connecting composers, performers, and musical institutions to foster new commissions, especially for young composers, and engage a broader audience. Could you tell us about its inception and its importance to you in promoting and disseminating contemporary music?
The Foundation has done significant work, especially during the Covid period, generating over 20 pieces by various composers from around the world. Now, the main objective is to undertake larger projects – such as Mirela Ivičević’s violin concerto with a large orchestra titled “Überlala. Song of Million Paths” – and to continue supporting young and lesser-known composers.
What relationship do you think the audience of the new generations has with contemporary music?
I see room for improvement in how musical organizations are managed – there is a need for an increase in the percentage of contemporary music in programming. Promoters who have the confidence and determination to undertake this programming work usually have a direct and good relationship with the audience – after an initial period of adjustment. Conversely, promoters who remain conservative, sticking to the same repertoire, encounter difficulties when introducing new pieces which, due to lack of experience, are sometimes negatively received by the audience.
You have premiered new and important works by Peter Maxwell Davies, Beat Furrer, Michael Jarrell, Chaya Czernowin, Mirela Ivičević, and many others, including the world premiere of Salvatore Sciarrino’s “Sei nuovi capricci e un saluto” at the Chigiana International Festival 2023. In this broad context, how has the performer-composer-opera process developed?
I am fortunate to communicate with composers before, during, and after the process of creating a piece. This is how I learn about the emotions and thoughts behind the music, which I then try to rediscover in my interpretations. The flow of this process depends on the individual: some composers need creative exchange from the very beginning, almost “before birth,” while for others, it’s more important that it happens afterwards. The key thing is to keep the dialogue going.
Giacinto Scelsi and his sonic universe: is this your first encounter with it?
Absolutely yes, although I have always been a great admirer of Scelsi. Furthermore, I was able to follow the work process when my wife (whose name is actually Anahit!) was studying the piece for a concert that unfortunately never took place… Scelsi’s Quartets have also been on my bucket list for years!
What do you think about the music and the journey of such a unique author, with a distinctive profile in the history of 20th-century music?
It’s a very unique, almost parallel universe that is always aware of sound and its nature, its harmonics, the fascination of sound – in its simplest yet extremely complex foundation.
Anahit is a work that we consider lyrical and strong at the same time; what was your approach to this piece?
It’s a piece that celebrates the beauty, serenity, and purity of sound and its harmonics – but it also celebrates the monsters hidden within us! herefore, one must find the entire spectrum of colors, a wild rainbow so that the piece transforms into a sort of “out of body experience.”
What artistic and human qualities did it require you to bring to the forefront? What was your approach to the violinistic technique required for the performance?
The greatest challenge – but also the element that makes the piece (and many other pieces by the Maestro) so unique – is the scordatura. Here, it’s not just a matter of retuning the strings, but also replacing the D string with an A string, adding an extra level of brightness to the sonority of the piece. The tuning to G major completely changes the sound world and the instrument’s spectrum in an unpredictable way! Practical issues also revolve around the scordatura. he notation is perhaps the most demanding for me; only the resulting sounds are written down, not the actual notes that need to be played! Sometimes there are also aspects that are not particularly “violinistic” because, obviously, this was not a primary goal for the Maestro.
In Scelsi’s works, the title is, according to the author’s intentions, coherent with the image that takes shape within the piece, even though, as the Maestro himself stated, ‘Music speaks for itself.’ In this case, what did the relationship with Anahit, Poème lyrique dédié à Vénus, evoke in you?
The strength of this piece – and of all others in music – lies in the sonic colors of its material. This is ultimately its message, and the interpreter’s task is to communicate it.

1. Giacinto Scelsi in a photo from 1930s © Archivio Fondazione Isabella Scelsi. All rights reserved

2. Giacinto Scelsi’s instruments, in his house in Rome © Fondazione Isabella Scelsi. All rights reserved

3. I campanacci e Deva: Giacinto Scelsi’s instruments, above his piano © Fondazione Isabella Scelsi. All rights reserved

4. Frontispiece of Anahit © Archivio Fondazione Isabella Scelsi. All rights reserved

5. Detail from a list of works by Giacinto Scelsi © Archivio Fondazione Isabella Scelsi. All rights reserved

6. Small autograph about Anahit © Archivio Fondazione Isabella Scelsi. All rights reserved

 

7. Typed note about Anahit © Archivio Fondazione Isabella Scelsi. All rights reserved

 

Interview with Marco Angius

on the occasion of the performance of
“Anahit” Poème lyrique dédié à Vénus
by Giacinto Scelsi
5 July 2024
opening concert of the tenth edition of the Chigiana International Festival & Summer Academy “Tracce” in Siena.
Gianni Trovalusci (President)
Alessandra Carlotta Pellegrini (Scientific director)
from Fondazione Isabella Scelsi
Maestro Angius, we are delighted to ask you some questions on the occasion of this important event which features Giacinto Scelsi alongside the music of Ligeti and Bartók, conducting the Orchestra Regionale Toscana with violin soloist Ilya Gringolts.
Could you illustrate the program you will be conducting and the deep connections between the pieces and their composers?
The program was developed by Nicola Sani, while I suggested pairing Bartók’s Concerto for Orchestra with Ligeti and Scelsi, given the special affinity that concerns not only the first two composers. The Concerto will be presented in the recent chamber orchestra version by Roland Freisitzer. n recent years, this trend of new orchestrations has emerged, which, in my opinion, responds to a tendency towards musical restoration and rethinking that is quite present in the era we live in. A few years ago, it would have been viewed with suspicion, but it is a practice that has always existed. I would say that, besides Bartók and Ligeti, the presence of Anahit is also very significant and pertinent: Scelsi, like Bartók, is interested in exploring the depths of sound as a mysterious universe (I am thinking, for example, of Bartók’s Music for Strings, Percussion, and Celesta) and in creating his own compositional system. On the other hand, Bartók and Ligeti sought a new expressiveness that drew from folk music and mathematical proportions, as music is a scientific art. It will also be a wonderful opportunity to collaborate with an extraordinary soloist like Ilya Gringolts.
You have premiered new works by many contemporary composers, conducting the most important ensembles in the world for contemporary music, and dedicating systematic effort with the Orchestra of Padua and Veneto, of which you are the Artistic and Musical Director.
For example, you can boast a long-standing collaboration with Maestro Salvatore Sciarrino, in addition to the realization of numerous projects developed in prestigious contexts with many composers, including those from younger generations.

In this broad scope of activity, how has the conductor-composer-work process taken shape?
I have dedicated myself mainly to Italian composers over three decades of activity and have acquired a clearer, yet still evolving, vision of compositional processes. Today, we are in an archaeological era of contemporary research music, and it is inevitable. There is a noticeable gap compared to the figures who animated the second half of the last century, which depends on a multitude of complex factors. It is, therefore, a long and fascinating process. I have come to understand that a conductor must possess compositional skills when rehearsing because each conductor, in their own way, continues the work started by the composer and brings it to life in the air. The work on the score is only the project of the work itself: it is binding, decisive, but not yet music. The score is rather the gateway to the work as a living, perceptible organism, enveloped in an ineffable aura. his is why there are infinite possibilities for interpreting a score, and the conductor in front of the musicians must be like a director of sound, knowing the logic of composing and deconstructing, having precise ideas even when approaching a new piece for the first time. In fact, the composer may be present or absent, but it is as if they are always there in the room listening to us. When a conductor performs music, they are also the composer, whereas it is usually denied this recreative activity by giving the sign an untouchable primacy as absolute and testamentary will. Nothing could be more false and misleading But what applies to analysts on paper (forced to listen to recordings to conduct a reliable and instead flawed chronicle from the start) is far from interpretive reality: things of an ideal world. Instead, a composer first imagines the sounds and then transcribes them: then when they listen to them, they change them again (I think of Beethoven making corrections during rehearsals with his red pencil: he did not correct himself but his own writing!) The writing, through which a composer transmits their thought, on the other hand, sets limits because «the written is the funeral of the oral», as Carmelo Bene claimed, probably alluding to this dissociated dimension between sign and sound (or gesture).
In your opinion, what is the relationship between the younger generation and contemporary music?
Let’s say that the audience attending a concert is curious and well-disposed from the start: they are neutral. They are not inherently attracted to this genre of music because today’s world is structured in such a consumeristic and occasional sense that the richness of the content rarely reaches a broad audience and penetrates the culture of our time (mass culture, that is). They may not really be interested in understanding the reasons for such particular music, but rather in experiencing it. Music, too, is an expression of its own time, and ‘modern,’ after all, is a term linked to fashion. Yet, the recent Prometeo by Nono at San Lorenzo sold out every night: no one could explain the phenomenon, so widespread is the prejudice against research and experimental music. So it depends on what we mean by contemporary music. What I disagree with, however, is the way some operators think they can adapt music to audience trends to solve the problem of approval and ticket sales: it is exactly the opposite! It is not ethical to pursue an artistic dissemination intent by always following the same appetites or reducing music to a mere tourist phenomenon. One can create an intelligent and intriguing program, certainly maintaining a relationship with the audience’s tastes, but without declaring the proposal for research and experimentation expired. Those who criticize or despise avant-garde experimental music to the point of denial, what alternative models do they propose? Those of approval? The audience must be respected and not treated as an inert consumer mass, like a sound-absorbing body that only serves to improve the acoustics of a hall. There must be an open and pluralistic vision that also includes antithetical positions: those at the antipodes are undoubtedly fertile. Similarly, I find it wrong for a contemporary music festival to focus on extreme foreignness as if Italian ensembles and composers were not competitive enough: we must work to raise the value of our country and not to snub both its protagonists and future generations.
Giacinto Scelsi and his sonic universe: we know about your decades-long acquaintance with the Maestro’s music. What do you think about the music and the journey of such a unique author, with a distinctive profile in the history of 20th-century music?
During this period, I am studying Anahit for the first time, composed in 1965, a lyrical poem dedicated to Venus, as its subtitle suggests. We will discuss it in more detail later on. Scelsi’s compositional restlessness drives him to identify a seemingly circumscribed sound world and to dig into this initial limitation, discovering instead the wonder of musical contemplation, of prolonging the life of sounds to excess, in making them infinite: these are not pieces of music but immersive listening experiences. Many composers have looked to Scelsi and continue to do so: the French spectralists, Romitelli, Haas, even Nono, in short, figures who are quite different. Like Cage and a few others of his generation, Scelsi shows us that one cannot make music with music anymore. We must start from other perspectives and aim for other dimensions of listening and composition. The sonic horizon of events in his works appears at times compressed, at other times extremely transparent and fluctuating: the form is a declination of sound rather than the reverse. His pieces seem like hallucinations, a kind of sonic hypnosis where we fixate on a rotating object, an indecipherable prism, and forget the passage of time. In Scelsi’s pieces, the sonic images decline and dissolve into each other in an apparent stillness, but in reality, the sounds are always in motion in terms of dynamics and emission oscillation. Although he never composed works of musical theater, his pieces always have a strong evocative and visionary connotation. It is clear that neither Scelsi nor Evangelisti could rely on the narrative possibilities of a linear, discursive, or descriptive text: for them, intoned words are pure phonemes that cannot cross the threshold of the unspeakable, transubstantiating inversely from meaning to signifier (I think of the investigation between voice and instruments in Yamaon, in Canti del Capricorno, but also in Evangelisti’s Spazio a 5). Anti-music appears as an animistic rite in which the Word of musical form, commonly understood, is correlated with a transfigured and highly stylized acoustic conception of composing.
Anahit is a work imbued, in our opinion, with a strong yet lyrical expressive vein; how did you approach this piece? What interpretative direction do you believe best captures the work’s profound communicative power?
In this piece, rightly famous and among the most performed in his catalog, the decisive role is entrusted to the soloist who, through a short central cadenza, identifies two formal hemispheres. The violin is tuned in a special way that produces significant beats in the juxtaposition of certain intervals, accompanied by the dense orchestral vegetation that blossoms around it. The soloistic writing unfolds across multiple staves, reaching up to four simultaneous ones, as if they were multiple instruments or dispersed sound sources. The placement of instruments is crucial in this music, which draws its reasons from the surrounding space. Yet it can be heard as an absolute musical composition, albeit enigmatic, or as a piece of a world that neither begins nor ends. In this sense, the individual sound that characterizes the various sections of the piece, always without interruption, serves as both a point of origin and a collapse of the form itself. The form is essentially a meditation or mental journey translated into musical terms. A dramaturgy of hidden listening.
In Scelsi’s works, the title is intended to be coherent with the image that takes shape within the piece, even though, as the Maestro himself stated, “The music speaks for itself.” In this case, what did the relationship with Anahit, Poème lyrique dédié à Vénus, evoke in you?
Given that absolute music is a contradiction in terms (beyond the ingenious concepts expressed by Dahlhaus in several of his books), there is a sort of implicit naturalism in Scelsi’s compositions, particularly in Anahit. If one listens to them as mere pieces of music, they can leave one perplexed because there are no events but rather eternal returns: we must change ourselves in the act of listening, as the author intended them to produce an invisible inner transformation rather than sensory annihilation (which can also be a concomitant effect in some of us). Some of his works have been used in cinema, which adds a value to consider, in addition to the fascination these works can evoke solely from viewing the scores. We notice this when a piece ends, leaving behind a kind of material trace, an indistinct echo: it seems like the dissolution of a vision, something we have heard, that has happened before our eyes: but what, exactly? Titles, like subtitles, can have various meanings, introducing listeners, arousing curiosity, being more or less appropriate. There is a need, I believe, to create relationships, allusions, synthetic perceptions between different planes of knowledge.