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Jón
Leifs (1899-1968)
Saga Symphony
Iceland Symphony Orchestra
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[53:55] full-price
An Inktroduction by þe Inkpot Sibelius Nutcase™
Jón
Leifs is to Iceland as Sibelius is to Finland - I can hardly find a better
parallel. In the music of Jón Leifs, Iceland's spirit comes to life: to
the Viking rhythm of the rímur and the open vistas of the tvísongur,
molten lava roars from the earth, while furnace fires smelt iron in the
forge; the silver ice of glaciers grind the land into shape, while gentle
snows drift in the wind. (To find out more about Jón Leifs, please visit
the excellent Official Jón Leifs Website).
The Saga
Symphony was composed in the wake of a failed concert premiere (on
March 10th, 1941) of the composer's Organ Concerto. Played by the composer
himself, the concerto apparently so offended the Berlin audience that
by the time it was finished, the hall was nearly empty, the audience having
left.
The Saga
Symphony was completed in July 1942. The date is significant, and
all the more because his two daughters, wife and her parents were all
Jews. There is something bitter and defiant in his music, but also brimming
with power and the confidence of momentum and purposeful action. Such
is part of the appeal of the Saga Symphony, with its mythic-inspired,
unrelenting forward motion, its craggy stepwise propulsion.
Leifs himself
found ways to support himself and his music through the Nazi environment,
and eventually received permits to travel to Sweden in 1944. Not surprisingly,
his "escape" caused his reputation some damage among the Nordic peoples.
But I think that is ironic - when I first heard the Saga Symphony,
straightaway I heard Iceland, its fire and ice, its axe-hewn, hammer-forged
myths. Leif's soundworld might be described as fusing Shostakovich's orchestration
(eg. extremes of instrument registers), Wagner's scale (well, this is
the Edda) and Sibelius' spirit (including the use of the interval
of the fifth) - but this unfair comparisons aside, Leif's voice is undeniably
unique.
Icelandic
is the oldest form of any Germanic language - of which English is
one - surviving today. It has changed very little since the 9th
century. In fact, Icelandic can be considered one of the parent
languages of English.
The
emergence of significant differences in the Northern branch occurred
around CE 800. At this time the Scandinavian language (Old Norse)
was the language of the Vikings, the sagas and poetic prose Eddas
and that of the Runic inscriptions or stone carvings.
Around
CE 800, English, or rather Anglo-Saxon, was not far removed from
Old Norse in structure, sounds and vocabulary. Britain was subject
to about two centuries of strong Norse influence, from about CE
800 to 1050. During this time hundreds of words were taken into
English from Norse, and grammatical form was also influenced. A
simple examination of the vocabulary of modern English will show
that the Latin or Italic element in English is elegant, while the
Icelandic element is down-to-earth and matter-of-fact. Since this
time, English has undergone a tremendous change, while the 36-lettered
Icelandic has not.
Although
ancient, the Icelandic language is remarkably adaptable to changing
times. Thus there are virtually no imported "foreign" words in daily
Icelandic, because new words are easily developed to meet the needs
of a more technological society.
Abridged from Volcano
Tours: Iceland.
There is
an immediate impression of rugged and craggy volcanic landscape, blackened
and rich with fire and inspiration. Even the music's heavy rhythms immediately
brought to mind a potent symphony of Giant footsteps and the irrepressible,
primeval forces of nature that continues even today to smelt and forge
the Land of Ice. In addition to the array of normal percussion instruments,
Leifs also included a collection of stones, an iron anvil, large wooden
hammers and even shields made of iron, wood and leather. It is as if the
long-dead spirits of the Vikings have been resurrected through their instruments
to take part in this symphonic seance. Exactly like Sibelius, here was
a Nordic composer whose music is become his land, the identity
deeply steeped in unique sounds derived from the homeland, without a shadow
of a doubt.
The Saga
Symphony is the popular name for Leifs' Symphony No.1, Op.26, entitled
"Söguhetjur", which means "Saga Heroes". In five movements, the 54-minute
work is a truly epic invocation of all things icy, Nordic and mythical
- visions of fur-clad, axe-wielding heroes trudging through glacier and
mountain are immediately and vividly evoked. I am sure even the novice
listener cannot deny the sheer titanic force and ancient energy the music
evokes.
The 16½-minute
first movement depicts - more in spirit-sound than in pictorial narrative
- Skarphéðinn from Njál's Saga. The movement is marked "molto energico
e ridigo", to which the hero rides forward with determined defiant voice,
cleaving orchestral strokes unto his enemies. The stomping themes give
way to a quieter, slower section in the middle, still punctuated with
brassy outbursts which gain in dominance until the all-important winds
and percussion achieve full reign again. The Iceland Symphony Orchestra
make an immediate and powerful impression with this music, the rhythms
hard, the winds pungent with sonic brimstone.
The slow
movement of the symphony portrays Guðrún Ósvífrsdóttir from the Laxdæla
Saga. The notes tell me that despite being responsible for her husband's
death, she is the most admired of all the women due to the ingenius portrayal
by the author. (Interesting; a little elaboration is in order, I think,
and I must go read up...). The opening section is predominantly moderate
in volume and pace, with an edge of restlessness as heard in the previous
movement. The quiet ending serves to depict Guðrún in her old age in prayer
as a nun.
A second
Adagio, subtitled "Intermezzo", takes the form of an 8-minute portrait
of Grettir Ásmundarson, the most infamous of Iceland's outlaws, haunted
for life by the ghost of Glámur whom he slew. Leifs inspiration for this
movement was also through a poem by Matthías Jochumsson which describes
Grettir alone in the dark struggling in suspence while waiting for the
ghost. The music is appropriately dark, quiet stretches of anticipation
mixed with loud sections of fear mixed with frustration and anger, occasionally
pouring into outburst.
The final
movement is based on the heroic sacrifice of Þormóður Kolbrúnarskáld in
the battle of Stiklestad in Norway, as recounted in the Fóstbræðra
Saga. As he lay fatally wounded, Þormóður pulled out the arrow that
had pierced his body and composes a poem before he dies. Towards the end,
the unmistakably nordic voice of the Scandinavian longhorn, the lur
is heard. Evocative, warlike yet booming with the spirit of their culture,
the instruments (real ones) resound through the orchestra and the ages
with distant power.
The ending
is breathtakingly unique: the insistent charging rhythms recede into the
distance, yet completely retains its epic energy. It is as if the orchestral
sounds are being slowly turned off in volume, while one imagines a giant
rampage of Vikings hurtling through the snows toward their enemies, relentless,
all in slow motion. Their war cries are unheard across the ages, yet ring
in the tremendous silence.
In somewhat Coledridgian fashion, Leifs woke up during the night later
and immersed himself in the mythic sagas of his Icelandic ancestors. Perhaps
partly due to a feeling of defiance towards the unappreciative audience
he had just faced, Leifs reaffirmed his resolve to compose a large-scale
epic work to depict the people and events of the sagas.
The Icelandic Language
Njál's Saga also speaks of Björn of Mörk, a braggart and coward,
as well as Kári Sölmundarson. Kári has avenged the deaths of Njál and
his sons, but, having hidden in the wake of the true hero, Björn takes
advantage of the heroic situation for himself. The music is thus slightly
sardonic in tone, as suggested by the "Scherzo" sub-title of this 5-minute
movement. It is in turn heroic and also mock-heroic, giant clomping footsteps
alternating with quietly tip-toeing on pizzicato strings, a contrast nicely
achieved by the orchestra here. Towards the end, a warlike barrage of
sounds is evoked as the hammers, anvils and iron shields are brought to
bear upon the orchestral soundscape.
You can buy or order this CD in Singapore
from HMV or Borders (Wheelock Place). þe Inkpot Sibelius
Nutcase watches Paleoworld every morning and prepares the day when
he shall tickle the Midgard serpent.
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Nordic music is not just Sibelius and Grieg.... enjoy!
From SWEDEN!
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From NORWAY!
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Collections:
with soprano Solveig Kringelborn (Virgin Classics)