Eine denkwürdige Begegnung mit der Vergangenheit
English versionvon Johannes Dengler
Vor kurzem hatte ich die große Freude, mit meiner Kollegin Milena Viotti das Instrument meines berühmten Vorgängers Franz Strauss zu präsentieren. Das Bayerische Staatsorchester feiert in diesem Jahr sein 500jähriges Jubiläum und zu diesem Anlass wurden einige kurze Videos produziert, die sich auf die Geschichte unseres Orchesters beziehen. Seit 30 Jahren nun darf ich als Solohornist auf eben demselben Stuhl in der Bayerischen Staatsoper spielen, und so löste die erste Begegnung mit diesem originalen Instrument für mich eine denkwürdige und eindrückliche Reise in die Vergangenheit aus. Von dieser will ich nun berichten.
Vieles ist überliefert und wissenschaftlich erforscht und publiziert über die Persönlichkeit von Franz Strauss und seine Stellung und Bedeutung in der Musikgeschichte – ich kann hierzu inhaltlich nichts Neues beitragen. Nähert man sich dem Instrument aber rein phänomenologisch im Hier und Jetzt, gibt es doch einiges zu sagen.
Zum einen fällt das Kunsthandwerk auf. Jede Schraube, jedes Kleinteil stammt ja nicht wie heute aus perfekter industrieller Massenproduktion, sondern aus kleinen Auflagen, die überwiegend in Handarbeit hergestellt wurden und eine viel größere Streuung in der Qualität aufwiesen. Ich kann mir nur vorstellen, dass der Rohstoffmarkt z.B. für Messing im Baujahr 1867 ein völlig anderer war als heutzutage. Auch die spezielle Form des Instrumentes mit einer sehr langen zylindrisch bleibenden Mensur und einem dramatisch sich konisch öffnendem Schalltrichter ist mit hoher Wahrscheinlichkeit einer Zusammenarbeit des Meisters Ottensteiner mit Franz Strauss zuzuschreiben. Der dahinterstehende künstlerische Wille aller Beteiligten, das beste Resultat auf allen Ebenen mit wenigen Versuchen und wenig Erfahrungswerten zu erreichen, scheint mir bemerkenswert. Mit Sicherheit konnten nicht einfach so wie heute viele baugleiche Hörner in vielfach bewährter Ausführung zum Auswählen bereitgestellt werden.
Dieses Horn ist in vielerlei Hinsicht also ein erster Startpunkt und das mit ihm uraufgeführte Repertoire (z.B. Rheingold 1869, Walküre 1870, Meistersinger 1868) noch gar nicht bekannt zum Zeitpunkt seiner Herstellung. Ich persönlich würde sogar so weit gehen und nicht ausschliessen, dass die Erfahrung mit der Uraufführung des Tristan im Jahre 1865, also 2 Jahre vor der Herstellung des Ottensteiner Horns, Franz Strauss bewogen haben könnte, von der Grundstimmung in F auf ein B- Horn zu wechseln. Ein Tristan auf dem 3 ventiligen B-Horn erscheint mir kaum zu realisieren, gibt es doch viele gestopfte Einzeltöne in Legatopassagen, die nur unbefriedigend darauf zu realisieren sind. Damit verstieß er bewusst gegen die allgemeine Konvention, ein F-Horn zu spielen, und wählte seinen individuellen Weg- wie man aus Berichten weiß gegen beträchtliche Widerstände und Anfeindungen seiner Kollegen und mancher Dirigenten.
Aus den Anekdoten über Franz Strauss kann man auf seine große künstlerische Sensibilität einerseits und auf einen hohen Perfektionsdruck auch in der damaligen Zeit schließen. Als ich nur einige wenige Töne auf dem messerscharfen Mundstück gespielt habe und in den Dienstlisten gesehen habe, dass Franz Strauss diese Wagnerschen Werke allein, ohne Wechselmöglichkeit und Assistenten, mit unzähligen Proben in der damaligen autoritär geprägten Zeit gespielt hat, habe ich mich schlagartig an meine eigene Anfangszeit in unserem Orchester und die damit verbundene normale anfängliche Überforderung mit diesem Repertoire an vielen Punkten leibhaftig erinnert. Ich konnte jedoch auf alle Erfahrungen meiner Kollegen und eine systematisierte Ausbildung zurückgreifen. Franz Strauss musste sich all dies mit einem unvorstellbaren Talent selbst erkämpfen.
Aus diesen Gegebenheiten erschließt sich mir persönlich die innere Ablehnung, die Franz Strauss gegenüber Wagner gehabt haben soll, als unmittelbar und auch körperlich einleuchtend. Ich denke nur an eigene Erfahrungen mit Uraufführungen in heutiger Zeit.
Die Form des Instrumentes und die Beschaffenheit des Mundstückes (sehr große Bohrung, geringe Innenweite und scharfer Rand) scheint zu korrelieren mit Franz Strauss‘ Bemühungen, den damaligen klanglichen „Sweet Spot“ des Nationaltheaters in München zu finden. Dieses Nationaltheater mit seinen über 2000 Sitzplätzen war in Franz Strauss Wirkungszeit bei einer Bevölkerungszahl von höchstens 150 000 Einwohnern in München geradezu riesenhaft dimensioniert. Wie man den bewundernden Zeugnissen seiner Zeitgenossen bis hin zu Richard Wagner entnehmen kann, scheint ihm das mit diesem Horn gelungen zu sein- eine offene, gesangliche, phrasierende Spielweise von natürlicher Schönheit, die in das gesamte Theater projizieren konnte. Um dieses Ziel zu erreichen, ist er mit der Wahl der Grundstimmung in B seinen eigenen Weg gegangen. Dies war teils seiner starken Persönlichkeit geschuldet, die Konflikte nicht gescheut hat, teils aber auch einer skrupulösen Sensibilität und Reaktion auf die anfängliche Überforderung dem neuartigen Repertoire gegenüber.
Franz Strauss‘ individueller Stil als Hornist ist im Werk und in den Hornpartien seines Sohnes Richard lebendige und prägende Horngeschichte geworden- hier finden wir das geistige Ideal des Hornklanges, mit dem Richard Strauss selbst aufgewachsen ist. Dieser Stil wurde durch die architektonischen und akustischen Gegebenheiten des Münchner Nationaltheaters genauso mitgeprägt wie durch die Auseinandersetzung und die notwendige Anpassung an die Herausforderungen des neuartigen Repertoires.
Einen weiteren Punkt will ich abschließend erwähnen. Wäre nicht eine so fähige, begabte und letztlich auch mutige Persönlichkeit wie Franz Strauss am 1.Horn der Königlichen Hofoper in München zu finden gewesen, wäre wohl auch Richard Wagners Art für das Horn zu schreiben, nämlich spätestens ab Tristan, es nämlich ab da zu einem vollwertigen, ja zentralen Element seiner Opernkompositionen zu machen, nicht denkbar gewesen. Die Geschichte unseres Instrumentes und der folgenden Hornpartien hängen also direkt von dieser einzigartigen Persönlichkeit ab.
Für die heutige Zeit und uns Hornisten kann man dies alles immer noch als inspirierendes Vorbild nehmen. Der „richtige“, eigene Klang und die richtige Dynamik in einem bestimmten Saal und die eigene, individuelle Spielweise sollte unsere Instrumenten- und Mundstückwahl bestimmen und den Willen, das beste „Setup“ ohne allzu große Rücksicht auf allgemeine Konventionen unserer Zeit zu wählen und mit Instrumentenbauern an der Weiterentwicklung unserer Instrumente zusammenzuarbeiten. Nun gilt es, das Feuer weiter in die Zukunft zu tragen und künftige Komponisten und das Publikum von der Wandlungsfähigkeit und unmittelbaren Ausdruckskraft unseres Instrumentes zu überzeugen.
Horn on Record
by Ian Zook
Volume 7—Roland Horvath
For this installment of Horn on Record, we journey into the farthest reaches of our repertoire, thanks to one of many recordings made by Austrian hornist Roland Horvath. On the album Horn und Tuba, “two instruments – two interpreters – two composers,” Horvath is joined by a cadre of collaborating musicians performing music for horn and piano, horn and two guitars, and tuben quartet with bass tuba!
While no recording date is documented for this album, Horvath made a great many recordings for Aricord Digital all dating from the early 1980’s that extend across the standard repertoire for horn and piano, as well as chamber combinations of horn with voice, with harp, and with cello. This particular recording features Roland Horvath dedicating performances to two of his fellow Austrian composers, Konrad Musalek and Kurt Anton Hueber.
Roland Horvath, born in Vienna in 1945, attended the Theresian Academy and studied math and general music education, which lead to an early appointment teaching music theory at the University of Performing Arts in Vienna. He concurrently studied several aspects of music: horn with Gottfried von Freiburg, Leopold Kainz, and Josef Velba, in addition to piano, violin, guitar, voice, composition, and conducting.
Horvath began playing professionally with the Vienna Radio Orchestra in 1965, and then subsequently joined the Vienna State Opera Orchestra in 1966, followed by the Vienna Philharmonic in 1981. He has been very active as an ambassador for our instrument, having served as the President of the Wiener Waldhornverein (the oldest horn association in the world), Advisory Council of the International Horn Society (1987-1993) and Vice President (1991-92), and also as President of the Austrian-Korean Music Association. He performed and presented at horn symposia across the world throughout the 1980s-1990s and has also composed and arranged several works for horn, including Der Ring des Nibelungen Fantasy for Horn and Piano.
The A-side of the album features three interwoven works by Konrad Musalek, a composer and music theorist who taught at the Pädagogische Akademie and Franz Schubert Konservatorium in Vienna. As noted on the album jacket, Musalek characterizes his style as “free atonal and ametrical which means that it is not based on a scale and has no rhythmical patterns.”
These three short works are meditations on the same opening motive—a brief, 16-note horn call that musically evokes a short question-and-answer. This is, perhaps, Musalek’s own contemporary musing on the idée fixe used by both Berlioz and Balzac in the 1830’s.
The opening of Musalek’s Sonate für Horn und Klavier, op. 35, is three movements in quick succession: the purposeful 16-note motive, a rapid layering of this motive with a churning and relentless piano overlay, and a sudden expansion of time through an expressive horn cadenza. Horvath uses vigorous articulation and a broad, sustained style to maintain the presence of the horn motive:
Quite an oddity for a chamber pairing, Musalek’s Sonate für Horn und Zwei Gitarren, op. 92, continues his manipulation of the 16-note motive but includes many percussive elements from the guitarists as well. The interplay and phasing of the dual guitar accompaniments lends an almost improvisatory feel:
On the album’s B-side, we encounter two multi-movement works for Tuben quartet and Bass tuba, both by Kurt Anton Hueber. Also, in the realm of an avant-garde compositional style, Hueber notes that his music “began with linear polyphonic and tonal structures and developed to twelve-tone compositions and non-harmonic systems.”
In his Osiris Hymnus, op. 27, based on an Egyptian poem, the Tuben quartet plays with a sinewy and singular sound, melding together a complexly interwoven melody. This quartet features Roland Horvath alongside long-time Vienna Philharmonic hornists and colleagues Roland Berger, Willibald Janezic, and Wolfgang Tömbock:
The last selection, Hueber’s Requiem, op. 21, interestingly, does not include Roland Horvath in the ensemble. Regardless, this is music of probing intensity and compositional intrigue. The performers clearly draw on their legacy of Brucknerian repertoire to balance and blend with the bass tuba, creating a consort sound that is deftly tuned and quintessential in sound color!
This program of music, beautifully and effectively played by Roland Horvath, reminds us that the extent of our music catalog is vast indeed! Especially as these chamber pairings can be difficult to facilitate (not one but two guitarists?), it is that much more valuable to have these foundational recordings preserved—and that’s what we do here at Horn on Record!
DVA LESNÍ ROHY NA PÓDIU
„povídání s Bedřichem Tylšarem“
napsal Zdeněk Divoký
Sedíme v útulné kavárně v Praze na Smíchově a povídáme si s Bedřichem Tylšarem (1939), českým hornistou a pedagogem, který společně se svým bratrem Zdeňkem (1945–2006) vystupoval v sólovém koncertním duu mezi lety 1965–2000 na významných pódiích Evropy i v zámoří a jako pedagog vychoval několik generací českých hráčů na lesní roh.
Výčet jím iniciovaných a nahraných dvojkoncertů pro lesní rohy (LP a CD) je mimořádný a i v dnešní době unikátní. Jeho a bratrovou péčí se do té doby málo známá díla českých klasických autorů (Rosetti, Fiala, Rejcha, Pokorny, etc.) ale také díla zásadních jmen ve vývoji evropské hudby (Telemann, Vivaldi, L. Mozart, J. Haydn) dostala do širšího povědomí.
Vzpomínám si, že jsem při studiích v Brně někdy kolem 1973 poslouchal v bytě svého kamaráda hornisty na starém gramofonu desky a dostala se mi do ruky první nahrávka bratrů Tylšarů pro Supraphon (Czech label) s dvojkoncerty Vivaldiho, Telemanna a Haydna. Jako studenta konzervatoře mě tato nahrávka doslova „uhranula“. Lehkost a samozřejmost s jakou Zdeněk Tylšar hrál corno primo i pohyblivost a zřetelnost partů corno secondo (Bedřich) se spojila do lahodného fenoménu hornového dvojhlasu.
Ve skrytu bylo rozhodnuto: chtěl jsem se tomuto ideálu přiblížit a interprety, kteří v té době působili v Praze v České filharmonii, blíže poznat a hlavně – naučit se pořádně hrát na lesní roh.
Dnes si ale povídáme a já se ptám:
ZD: „Rozumím tomu, že jako dva bratři hrající na stejné nástroje a studující u stejného pedagoga (prof. František Šolc – Janáček Music Akademie Brno) a později hrající v orchestru České filharmonie v Praze se toto spojení nabízí, jak a proč jste ale začali s dvojkoncerty?“
BT: „Někdy kolem 1962 jsem byl v Belgii a navštívil v Bruselu obchod s hudebninami. Mimo noty zde měli také oddělení na poslech různých desek. Najednou jsem uslyšel hornový dvojhlas – myslím, že to byl Haydn. Už nevím, kdo byli interpreti, ale bylo to krásné. Napadlo mě, že tyto dva nástroje jdou svou bohatostí alikvotních (harmonických) tónů ideálně dohromady a že by se na tom dalo „stavět“. Pomalu jsem začal pátrat v archívech v Československu i v zahraničí, navázal kontakty s řadou kolegů (např. Edmond Leloir) a dával dohromady notový materiál. Ukázalo se, že celé 18. stol. bylo v tomto žánru velmi plodné a bohaté. První vystoupení s bratrem bylo 1964 v Olomouci a hráli jsme dvojkoncert A. Rosettiho Es dur.“
ZD: „Party dvojkoncertů barokního a klasického období jsou někdy technicky mimořádně náročné. Uvážíme-li, že byly prováděny na přirozené a invenční rohy, je jasné, že interpreti té doby museli být na vysoké úrovni“
BT: “Ano, ať už to byli reprezentanti barokního „clarino style“ v Drážďanech, hornisté Houdek a Hampel nebo později duo Palsa a Thürrschmid nebo Nagel a Zwierzina ve Wallersteinu – jejich umění bylo nepochybně pro skladatele vynikající inspirací“.
ZD:“ V této souvislosti bych rád připomněl ještě jednoho raně klasického českého skladatele, který působil v druhé pol. 18. stol. v Itálii, je to Josef Mysliveček (Mysliweczek; 1737–1781). Ten sice žádný hornový dvojkoncert nenapsal, ale jiskřivá Aria in Dis pro koloraturní soprán, lesní roh a orchestr je příkladem dobové virtuozity. Nedávno jsem v Praze shlédl nový český film „IL BOEMO“ o životě tohoto skladatele a tato árie z opery Bellerofonte je tam citována. Myslivečkova hudba oscilující mezi barokní vznešeností a klasickou rozverností je hluboce krásná“.
BT: “Souhlasím. Mysliveček byl v kompozici žákem Františka V. Habermanna (1706–1783), což byl ve své době skladatel evropského formátu. Party horenkoncipoval ve stylu německého baroka-podobně jako Bach, Händel nebo Zelenka. Mysliveček tento styl převzal a naplnil ho vlastní invencí.“
ZD: “Když se dívám na staré fotografie z vašich prvních koncertů, vidím na portrétu (cca1970), že jste v této době s bratrem hráli na lesní rohy Alexander 103, to ale nebylo v té době v tehdejším Československu obvyklé, že?“
BT: „To jistě ne. Poválečná generace hornistů v České filharmonii hrála na nástroje Knopf, Kruspe nebo Josef Lídl. Já jsem měl to štěstí, že jsem se během svého působení v Německu (2 roky jako sólohornista Münchener Philharmoniker 1967–69) poznal osobně s panem Antonem Alexanderem, tehdejším šéfem firmy v Mainzu. Na tyto nástroje (A 103) jsme potom s bratrem začali hrát. Pan Alexander často jezdil na naše koncerty po celém Německu. Tohoto přátelství si dodnes velmi vážím“.
ZD: “Ještě bych rád vzpomněl tvého bratra Zdeňka, po jehož boku jsem hrál více než 30let v České filharmonii. Byl pro mě vzorem talentu, energie a muzikality. V době mého příchodu do filharmonie (1979) hrál sólohornu a já jsem nastoupil na pozici 3. horny. V té době (mezi1970 – 2000) byl velký boom nahrávání desek, ať už to byly LP nebo později CD. To byl celosvětový trend, počet nahrávacích společností té doby byl ohromující. Nahrávali jsme téměř všechno: komplety Mahlera, Dvořáka, instrumentální koncerty, komplety oper. V té době bylo ve filharmonii běžné, že jsme na pódiu seděli 7 hodin denně: dopoledne orchestr 3 a půl hod. zkoušel, odpoledne bylo nahrávání. Často byla nahrávací frekvence také v den koncertu, které byly 3 v týdnu, často také v sobotu. Zdeněk Tylšar toto vše odehrál bez asistenta a tzv. střídače, prostě vždycky hrál všechno výhradně sám. Samozřejmě kromě orchestru měl ještě mnoho vlastních sólových projektů, dvojkoncerty, hrál v komorních ansámblech. Bez nadsázky mohu říci, že po těch 40let kariéry hrál doslova od rána do večera“.
BT: „Ano je tomu skutečně tak. Často jsem za něj musel řešit „administrativu“, když se mu více projektů anebo třeba zahraničních cest sešlo v jednom termínu“
ZD: „Děkuji za rozhovor a přeju vše dobré“
TWO HORNS ON STAGE
A Conversation with Bedřich Tylšar
by Zdeněk Divoký
We are sitting in a cozy cafe in Prague having a chat with Bedřich Tylšar (b. 1939), Czech horn player and pedagogue. Between the years 1965 and 2000, he and his brother Zdeněk (1945-2006) performed as a horn duo in famous concert halls around the world.
The list of concertos for two horns that they recorded (LPs and CDs) still remains exclusive and unique. Thanks to the two brothers, Czech classical horn pieces by Rosetti, Fiala, Rejcha, and Pokorny, together with those of world-renowned composers (Telemann, Vivaldi, L. Mozart, J. Haydn), became widely known.
I can remember listening to the first recording of the Vivaldi, Telemann, and Haydn double concertos by the Tylšar brothers (published on the Supraphon label), around 1973. I was a conservatory student, and the recording bewitched me on the spot; the easy subtlety of first horn by Zdeněk Tylšar, together with the agile distinctness of second horn by Bedřich, connected into a horn harmony of phenomenal delicacy.
At that time, I made my personal decision: I wanted to reach this ideal, to achieve the interpretations (by then members of the Czech Philharmonic), and above all, to master the horn.
Today we are talking together, and I ask:
ZD: You were two brothers, playing the same instrument and studying with the same teacher, Prof. František Šolc at the Janáček Music Academy in Brno, and later you both became members of the Czech Philharmonic orchestra. The connection is obvious; nevertheless, how did you begin performing double concertos?
BT: Sometime around 1962, I visited a music shop in Brussels, Belgium. Apart from sheet music, they also offered the possibility of listening to recordings. Suddenly, I heard two horns—I believe it was Haydn. I do not remember who was playing, but it was beautiful. I realized that these instruments blend together perfectly thanks to the abundance of harmonic overtones, and I decided to pursue this idea. I began to explore both Czech and foreign archives, contacted many colleagues (e.g., Edmond Leloir), and gathered the music. The entire 18th century proved to be very rich in this genre. The first performance with my brother was in Olomouc in 1964, and we played the Concerto in E-flat by Antonio Rossler-Rosetti.
ZD: The music in baroque and classical double concertos is sometimes very demanding from the technical point of view. Considering the fact that the original interpreters were playing on natural or inventions horns, it is obvious that their technique must have been excellent.
BT: Agreed. Whether we mention Houdek and Hampel, the representatives of baroque clarino style in Dresden (Germany), or later Palsa and Thürrschmid, then Nagel and Zwierzina in Oettingen-Wallerstein, the quality of their playing must certainly have been a great inspiration for the composers.
ZD: I would like to mention another early classical Czech composer, famous in Italy in the second half of 18th century, Josef Mysliveček (Mysliweczek, 1737-1781). He did not compose a horn concerto, but his sparkling Aria in Dis for coloratura soprano and horn with orchestra is a perfect example of the contemporary virtuoso style. Recently, I saw a new Czech film, Il Boemo, a biographical movie about Mysliveček, and this wonderful aria from the opera Bellerofonte is used there. Mysliveček’s compositions vary between baroque grandness and classical high spirit, resulting in a deep sense of beauty.
BT: Definitely. Mysliveček studied composition with František Václav Habermann (1706-1783), who was then a recognized composer. He composed horn parts in the German baroque style, similar to Bach, Händel, or Zelenka. Mysliveček adapted this style and added his own ideas.
ZD: Looking at old photos from your first concerts (around 1970), I can see that you and your brother both played Alexander 103 horns. This was not common in Czechoslovakia at that time, was it?
BT: Certainly not. The first generations of Czech horn players after WWII played instruments made by Knopf, Kruspe, or Josef Lídl. Luckily, during my time in Germany (two years as solo horn with the Munich Philharmonic, 1967 – 69), I met in person with Anton Alexander, executive of the Alexander company in Mainz. Soon after, we started to play the 103 models. Mr. Alexander often came to our concerts in Germany. I still highly value his friendship.
ZD: I would also like to remember your brother Zdeněk, my colleague in the Czech Philharmonic for more than 30 years. For me, he was the ideal of talent, energy, and musicality. When I entered the Czech Philharmonic in 1979, he was playing solo horn, and I started at the position of third horn.
At that time (1970-2000), we experienced an intense boom of recording, first LPs, later CDs. It was a worldwide trend, and the number of recording labels was huge. We recorded almost everything: sets of Mahler, Dvořák, numerous concertos, and operas. Then, it was quite normal to play seven hours a day: a three-and-a-half-hour rehearsal in the morning, a recording in the afternoon. Quite often, we even recorded on concert days, since we performed three concerts per week on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. Zdeněk Tylšar was able to play everything without alternation, always performing everything by himself. Of course, apart from the orchestra, he had many personal solo projects, and double concerto and chamber ensemble performances. We can say, without exaggeration, that in his forty-year career he played virtually from morning until night.
BT: I remember I often had to deal with the paperwork on his behalf when several projects or foreign trips overlapped.
ZD: It has been a great pleasure to have this interview with you.
_______________________________________________________
Bedřich Tylšar (b. 1939), Czech horn player and pedagogue
"The brothers Bedrich and Zdenek Tylsar are the leading exponents of a long Czech tradition of French horn-playing. Both graduated from the Janáček Academy of Musical Arts and after winning prizes in prestigious competitions in Europe became members of the acclaimed Czech Philharmonic Orchestra."
Röntgen’s Aus Jotunheim
by Paul van Zelm
For several seasons around the year 2000, I played a beautiful program with the oboist Maarten Karres and his wife Ariane, based on the friendship between Julius Röntgen and Edvard Grieg. We played Röntgen's oboe sonata, several songs, and some piano works by Grieg, including the piece Sehnsucht nach Julius, dedicated to Röntgen (later called Resignation op. 73 no. 1). As the main work for horn, I played the suite Aus Jotunheim for horn and piano, a five-part work based on Norwegian folk music. To explain the friendship between Grieg and Röntgen, we read aloud letters and fragments from a biography.
The two composers met in Leipzig in 1875. When Grieg visited Amsterdam in 1883, Röntgen invited him to stay with him. The plan was for Grieg to stay for one day, but Grieg wrote to Röntgen: "I am looking forward to seeing you and your wife again. Please make sure that this one day lasts 48 hours!" Things went differently, and Grieg ended up staying with Röntgen for a whole month. From that point, the two composers were connected by a warm friendship until Grieg's death in 1907.
In the years that followed, Röntgen would travel to Norway to visit Grieg no fewer than 14 times, usually in the summer. They undertook days-long hikes in the Jotunheimen mountains, always using the occasions to listen to Norwegian folk songs and commit them to paper. Röntgen wrote about this: "Jotunheim is a world of its own, inhabited only by shepherds in the summer. The journey with Grieg was by horse-drawn carriage and rowboat across the Sognefjord to Skjolden. These were warm afternoons in August, and lying on hay bales, we let the grand landscape pass us by." Later, Franz Beyer, a friend and traveling companion of Röntgen, wrote: "After spending the night in a mountain hut, we were allowed to go to the meadow to milk cows. Naturally, the Norwegian folk songs were sung during this activity, transcribed holding the manuscript paper on the backs of the animals, so they were 'almost fresh from the cow!'"
From these songs and melodies, the Suite "Aus Jotunheim" was created in 1892, initially for violin and piano as a gift for Grieg and his wife Nina's 25th wedding anniversary. In 1901, the version for horn and piano was written for the well-known Viennese hornist Luis Savart. Röntgen also wrote another work for Savart: Variations and Finale on Sankt Nepomuk.
In the concerts previously mentioned, I played the piece from the manuscript, which is currently located at the Dutch Music Institute in The Hague.
In 2003, a printed version was released by John Smit (who happened to be my first horn teacher). When I recorded a number of short videos to publish on the internet in the fall of 2022, it was a logical choice for me to include some parts of the Jotunheim Suite: in its genre (high Romanticism), the piece is a valuable addition to our repertoire.
A Glimpse into Montréal’s Musical History
by Eric St-Pierre
Montreal International Jazz Festival (photo: gonzai.com)
Montrealers have always had great influence in the music industry, both locally and on the international scene.
From 1929 to 1950, the New York Metropolitan Opera’s primary conductor of French repertoire was Wilfrid Pelletier, founding conductor of the Orchestre Symphonique de Montréal. Pelletier also founded the Conservatoire de Musique et d’Art Dramatique du Québec, where many successful musicians have been trained, including Joseph Masella, principal horn in the OSM from 1943 to 1969. Fun fact: for a while, Joseph and seven of his brothers—Raphael (clarinet), Pietro (oboe), Rodolfo (bassoon), Alfred and Mario (violin), and Paul and Giulio (horn)—were all playing in the OSM at the same time!
Montréal has always been one of the hottest jazz cities in North America. During the US Prohibition of the 1920s and ’30s, Montréal was one of the few places where you could still legally buy alcohol...which made our nightclubs and cabarets flourish. Montréal’s reputation was so infamous that it was nicknamed "Sin City!" This environment helped create famous Montréal-born jazz artists like Oscar Peterson, Maynard Ferguson, and Oliver Jones. Nowadays, Montréal's International Jazz Festival is the biggest annual jazz event in the world, taking place each year in June, with over 500 indoor and outdoor shows.
1969 provided a notorious moment in Montréal’s musical history: it was during that spring that John Lennon and Yoko Ono held their famous “bed-in” protest against the Vietnam war. This is where they recorded the song Give Peace a Chance live from their bed at the Fairmont Queen Elizabeth Hotel. You can still rent the mythical room, but you will have to spend a few thousand dollars a night (and even in Canadian dollars, that’s a lot)!
Over the last few years, many musicians and performers from Montréal have loomed large on the international scene. Celine Dion, for example, was born and raised in the suburbs of Montréal, but other famous artists are linked to our city: singer-songwriters Leonard Cohen, Rufus and Martha Wainwright, and Elisapie; concert pianists Marc-André and Charles-Richard Hamelin; members of the rock bands Simple Plan and Arcade Fire; and conductor Yannick Nézet-Séguin, to name a few. This diversity has made Montréal a rich and fertile environment for musicians in many genres.
Speaking of maestro Nézet-Séguin, we are happy to announce that he will be conducting a concert as part of IHS 55 in partnership with the Festival de Lanaudière and the Orchestre Métropolitain. This concert will feature IHS 55 artists Sarah Willis, Stefan Dohr, Yun Zeng, and host Louis-Philippe Marsolais performing Schumann’s Konzertstück as well as Strauss’ Alpine Symphony.
Maestro Yannick Nézet-Séguin (photo credit: © Orchestre Métropolitain)
A lawn-section ticket for this concert is included with your full registration to IHS 55 (with upgrades possible on demand, according to availability). Register now for IHS 55 at www.ihs55.org. More information on the concert is available at Strauss au sommet – Festival de Lanaudière (lanaudiere.org)
Pedagogy Column—Find Your Voice
by Arkady Shilkloper
I played in orchestras for twelve years in Moscow, and while that was a great experience, it made me want to find my own unique voice in music and in horn playing. I mostly now play music that I write or improvise—even if I’m playing a piece someone else wrote for me, I’ll put my own stamp on it.
Every horn player can find his or her own voice on the instrument. I like to have students get away from printed music, but of course telling a student to just start improvising is very unhelpful. A good starting point is to imitate, on the horn, sounds that you hear in the real world. It could be whale sounds, or car alarm sounds, or sheep, dogs, cats, wolves, trucks, screams, or anything else. The point is to make your horn sound like something else instead of trying to play notes that someone else wrote.
Another great exercise is to imitate the intonation of human speech. By “intonation” I don’t mean playing in tune, but rather the ups and downs we make with our voice as we speak. For instance, you might say, “I learned something interesting at school today.” When I say that sentence, my voice goes a little higher on the words “interesting” and “school.” Also, there is a rhythm to the words: they don’t all come out as even eighth notes—not even close. You can use pitch and rhythm on the horn to imitate that sentence or any other sentence. Start by saying what you want. Next: repeat it with your voice, but without words, just with rhythmic pitches. Now play it on your horn, in the same way. This is a way to give yourself permission to just play, without playing something that someone told you to play!
There is an interesting practice called sound painting developed by Walter Thompson. It comprises a large set of hand gestures that the Soundpainter (who is the composer/conductor) gives to the players. You can look at the gestures on the website or develop your own. Get into a group of players who want to improvise, and develop gestures for long note, short note, high note, low note, do something different, faster, slower, and so on. The gestures, in other words, give a context and direction to the players, which is easier than just making music up from scratch.
As you do this in a group, start responding to what each other is playing. And start paying attention to what you are playing. What kinds of musical gestures come out of your bell? What kinds of sounds? You are developing your own musical voice!
You can also work on your body’s sense of rhythm. Think of a slower tempo in 4/4 time. Sit in a chair and tap beat 1 with your left foot. Then add beats 1 and 3 with your right. When you can do that, use your left hand to tap quarter notes on your left knee. When you can do all three of these things together, add eighth notes in your right hand on your right knee. It’s hard, but you are learning to coordinate your body according to its sense of rhythm.
As you develop your body’s sense of rhythm, you can apply that sense to the music you improvise. You are becoming more and more coordinated: experiencing rhythm will become a full-body experience. The music that comes out of your bell can be informed by that sense of rhythm, so that you aren’t playing random notes at random times, but notes that flow with your own rhythmic logic.
At this point, you will be finding your musical voice. And all of this work will make you a better horn player, too, no matter what kind of music you are playing.
