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Republished by the author at http://dustofhue.com/1997/06/kullervo/
Imagine
for a moment you live in a country completely unknown for any significant,
original musical culture other than, say, an ancient heritage comprising
folksongs passed down through the ages. Then suddenly, within some
humble concert hall, a local composer conducts a work which somehow
creates a single spark of cultural identity which flares and explodes
an entire nation's soul into the being of cultural self-awareness.
Before
Sibelius lit this spark, Finland was not much more than an autonomous
Grand Duchy controlled by Tsarist Russia. Swedish was the language
of the elite, not Finnish. On April 28, 1892, less than 4 weeks
after completing the score, Kullervo was premiered under
the 26-year-old composer's own baton. During rehearsals, Sibelius
faced an unfriendly orchestra filled with Germans, as well as a
choir of mixed Swedes and Finns. By the sheer power of his personality
and will, and armed with the ability to speak all three languages,
Sibelius eventually won them over.
Kullervo
was played to a packed hall, filled with many Finnish nationalists
(known as the Fennoman). The work was an instant and phenomenal
success whose scale and nation-binding force was unprecedented.
Even in Europe, only Berlioz, Bruckner and Mahler (whose 2nd Symphony,
the "Resurrection", was completed in 1894) were known to have achieved
such an epic scale of musical expression then.
 Kullervo
did not succeed merely because it was good music, with its Romantic
touches, but because it was above all Finnish - Finnish in its mythical
roots, in its rawness of utterance, in its evocation of an ancient
memory which seemed all but lost until in the same century, Elias
Lönnrot (1802-1884) gathered together the Finns' literary epic,
the Kalevala, from ancient poetry collected in Karelia, in
eastern Finland. A nation suddenly realised it had an epic history
rooted in the powerful and mysterious memory that is myth.
Kullervo is cast in five movements, lasting over 70 minutes,
and illustrates Cantos 31-36 of the Kalevala. The orchestral
"Introduction" is a tragi-heroic movement designed as a general
musical description of Kullervo. It opens with a broad, expanding
curtain of brooding grandeur and mystery before a sweeping melody
of understated majesty ascends through the vast rivers of the music,
driven by the composer's distinctive sense of forward movement.
Near the end, a Slavic-flavoured theme on strings, punctuated by
flute flutterings, strongly evokes the sense of a primordiality
strangely familiar even to a modern westernized listener. A final
fanfare on the brass based on the opening melody suddenly breaks
off into a quieter recollection on the woodwind, which fades away
into...
"Kullervo's Youth" - the second movement of the work, another song
of brooding, but quieter, melancholic, like the old king reminiscing
in his castle in the "ballade" of the Karelia Suite. It has
been called Tchaikovskian in spirit, but I beg to differ, for it
seems to me distinctive enough. It has a pulse that has less consistency
than Tchaikovsky's music, but at the same time it is much more evocative
of some kind of identity other than emotional pathos.
Right:
"Kullervo Cursing"
by Akseli Gallen-Kallela, 1899
Perhaps it is the
undercurrent of sadness in the opening string theme, or is it the
loneliness, as if somehow prophetic of Kullervo's future? The birdcries
on woodwind? A certain yearning look across some snow-covered landscape?
Tchaikovsky's Romanticism sings about himself; Sibelius' Kullervo
is the perpetuating recollection of a people's existence.
The 25-minute third
movement is the heart of Kullervo where the choir and vocal
soloists first appear. It begins with an energetic introduction
on strings depicting Kullervo riding a snow-sledge across the lands
on his way home. Over a chugging string ostinato, the all-male choir
enters solidly singing a description of Kullervo:
Kullervo,
Kalervon poika,
sinisukka äijön lapsi,
hivus keltainen, korea,
kengän kauto kaunokainen,
läksi viemähän vetoja,
maajyviä maksamahan. |
Kullervo, Kalervo's
offspring,
with the very bluest stockings
And with yellow hair the finest
And with shoes of finest leather
went to take in the taxes
to pay in the tithes. |
Nevermind
that these lines seem simplistic and benign, for the music is powerful:
the choir sings mostly in unison, achieving a chant-like rawness which
is very direct in its communicative evocation of that primal harkening
we associate with myth. Add to this a relentless five-beat ostinato
maintained by the orchestra, the work is as original as it is rooted
in the past. Even more ingenius is the fact that it is written in
5/4 time (another famous example is "Mars" from Holst's The Planets),
which takes into account the Finnish language's predominant first-syllable
emphasis. The choral setting cleverly shifts rhythm according to the
words, alternatively accenting the first, third, fourth and even the
fifth beat.
The story here in
Canto 35 is a tragic one: Kullervo comes upon a beautiful maiden
on his journey and seduces her. On asking of each other's ancestry,
they discover to their horror that they are siblings. The vocal
sequences between choir, soprano and baritone are operatic in character
and display Sibelius' considerable potential in this area. Kullervo's
sister kills herself in despair, and in the concluding section of
the movement, to the accompaniment of the heavy pounding of orchestral
sforzandi, Kullervo curses himself, as depicted by the painting
"Kullervo Cursing" (1899) by Gallen-Kallela (above right).
Left: "Kullervo Goes To War"
- A study by Akseli Gallen-Kallela, 1890s-1901.
The fourth movement
begins in a contrastingly cheery mood, as "Kullervo Goes to War"
(left, as depicted again by Gallen-Kallela) against his uncle Untamo,
who has done evil to his family. He bids farewell to his family
and "went to war making music/ to a fight making merry", so goes
Canto 36. Scored for orchestra only, the music is colourful with
periodic outbursts of brass and percussion.
The final movement
ends the story in grief, as choir and orchestra sing of "Kullervo's
Death." Kullervo receives news that his entire family has died,
and he proceeds to destroy his uncle's village. The choral text
begins where Kullervo chances upon the islet where he seduced his
sister. Filled with remorse, he askes his sword whether it will
take the life of a guilty man. The sword replies by asking why it
shouldn't since it has already taken the lives of the innocent.
With this Kullervo impales himself on his own blade.
Kullervo's Death
is an emotional crescendo, an exercise in torment by guilt, the
final stages of misery and horror leading to suicide - all expressed
in music. As Kullervo's sword judges him guilty, the choir sing
- both as fierce jury and solemn, reminscing funeral procession;
Sibelius revives earlier themes throughout the movement and ultimately,
the fate-laden brass theme from the "Introduction" makes an apocalyptic
reappearance in raging Wagnerian form as the choir proclaims the
Kullervo's doom. The wheel has come full circle.
In a manner of speaking,
so did Kullervo itself. Despite its successful premiere,
the ever self-critical Sibelius (right, in 1920) withdrew it from
the world, and only allowed the third movement to be performed in
celebration of the centenary of the publication of the Kalevala
in 1935. The symphonic epic was not performed in its entirety until
1958, the year after the composer's death. Although it received
its first recording only in 1970 under Paavo Berglund, the work
has steadily grown in popularity, both in the concert hall and on
record.
Kullervo should
appeal to anyone with an interest in late-Romantic choral works
of non-sacred, mythological theme (there aren't that many), or Nordic
mythology. Those tired of hearing Latin, English, Italian, German
and other common "choral languages" should hear this prime example
of the very unique tongue that is Finnish
-- a language that seems wrought from the dusky and mystical majesty
of the land itself, yet teeming with the shimmering glow of its
a thousand lakes.
After the premiere,
Sibelius' friend and conductor Robert Kajanus presented a laurel
wreath to the young composer. On it was prophetically inscribed
these words from the final lines of the Kalevala:
This way
therefore leads the pathway,
Here the path lies newly opened
(for more versatile singers,
for more abundant bards,
among the youngsters rising,
among the people growing.)
| Some
information above regarding the performance history of Kullervo
was sourced from Guy Rickard's
Jean Sibelius from Phaidon Press's 20th Century
Composer Series (ISBN 0-7148-3581-1 - available or order at
Borders Books) |
Kullervo:
Selected Recordings & Reviews
The
INKPOT SIBELIUS NUTCASE chants
Kullervo choruses as he submits his reviews to the Editor.
560(post): 27.6.1997
ŠInkpot Sibelius Nutcase
All
original texts are copyrighted. Please seek permission from the
Classical Editor
if you wish to reproduce/quote Inkpot material.
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