Berlioz: Two Hundred Years Young by Jacques Desjardins
/ July 2, 2003
Version française...
On December 11, 2003, Hector Berlioz's 200th birthday will be celebrated.
After so many years, the Symphonie fantastique never ceases to astonish me with its freshness and vitality.
Generations of composers from Liszt to the spinners of film music, have been
influenced by its episodic form, unusual orchestration, and its use of a
programme in the form of an autobiographical text as the inspiration for the
musical framework.
Berlioz is the true inventor of modern orchestration. He transformed forever
the way music is written for large ensembles and considerably enlarged the
spectrum of sounds and instrumental combinations. The symphony orchestra as we
know it today took its definitive shape pretty well according to Berlioz's
directions. His Treatise on Instrumentation and Orchestration, which came
out in 1843, was the first work to provide composers with the registers of
various instruments and offer all sorts of useful advice on the art of
orchestration. In the years that followed, the manufacture of instruments
underwent major improvements, obliging Berlioz to bring out a completely new
edition of his treatise in 1855. He used the opportunity to add a section on new
instruments like the saxophone, as well as an appendix on the art of orchestral
conducting. Berlioz might have written the work for his own use, considering his
complaints about not having received training in orchestration during his
studies at the Paris Conservatory. In chapter 13 of his Memoirs he admits to having learned orchestration from
assiduously going to the opera with the score on his lap. He deduced the
instruments' registers and the art of combining timbres through observation and
sheer determination (for which he was legendary).
The Symphonie fantastique is where Berlioz demonstrated his brilliant
mastery of the orchestral palette. Completed in 1830, the work immediately
revealed the fiery ardour of an impetuous temperament and the genius of a
visionary. His first innovation was to hand out a programme before the concert
with a text to accompany the music. It bore the title, "Episode in the Life of
an Artist," and described the passion he had conceived for the Irish actress,
Harriet Smithson. She had become the focus of his fantasies in 1827, when she
was playing Ophelia in a production of Hamlet. Smithson was three years
older than Berlioz and disdained the young man's advances until 1832, when she
finally agreed to marry him. However, when he was writing the Symphonie
fantastique he was suffering deeply from his rejection, and it was on this
experience that he built his masterpiece. This accounts for the sudden eruptions
and violent transports of the score. However, the programme doesn't actually
describe scenes from Berlioz's tumultuous life in detail. Rather, it illustrates
his emotional response to certain dramatic situations. For him, expression was
more important than description.
Young Berlioz's obsession with Smithson became an idée fixe, and
indeed the recurring theme of the symphony is masterfully transformed in all the
movements. This technique was inspired by Beethoven and the economy with which
motifs were used in the Fifth Symphony, foreshadowing Wagner's
leitmotifs associated with characters in The Ring of the Nibelung.
Liszt also paid homage to Berlioz, not only in his use of musical personalities
but in his chromatic boldness. All too often we forget Berlioz's harmonic
innovations. Think of the explicit use of chromatics in passages of the first
movement (nos. 10 and 17 to 19 in the critical edition by Edward Cone (Norton,
1971). Think also of the superimposed bitonal chords a tritone apart toward the
end of the "March to the Scaffold" (no. 58 in the edition cited). Here the
strings deliver a chord in G minor in response to the D-flat major harmony of
the wind instruments. These same chords resurfaced almost unchanged, many years
later, in the coronation scene of Moussorgsky's Boris Godunoff.
Radical changes in tempo give the
work the feel of a broken musical discourse. The phrasing is no longer built on
classical groupings of eight or sixteen bars. The unpredictable treatment of
phrasing and rhythm are reminiscent of opera, as are all the subtitles given the
movements, which divide the music into five scenes: I. Reveries – Passions; II.
A Ball; III. Scene in the Country; IV. March to the Scaffold; and V. Dream of a
Witches' Sabbath.
This crossover between genres is characteristic of many of Berlioz's works.
His symphony Harold in Italy (1834) evokes a pastoral journey by the main
character. In his 1839 symphonic work, Romeo and Juliet, based on
Shakespeare's play, singers perform the music representing the two lovers. His
Damnation of Faust, which he
originally described as "a concert opera," was later renamed "a dramatic
legend." We must conclude that Berlioz never felt at home with pure genres--but
nothing less could be expected of a free spirit possessed of a rebellious and
non-conformist temperament!
Homage to the father of the modern orchestra is overdue. Festivities on a
grand scale are planned in Paris next fall to honour his memory. Revenge is
sweet for the son of Grenoble whose music was ignored in his native land for
most of his life. Berlioz was for long considered "the most German of French
composers." His reputation and influence outside France were never in doubt,
however. It is nice to know that France is now reclaiming him and restoring his
French musical nationality with full honours. [Translated by Jane
Brierley]
The Montreal Symphony under JoAnn Falletta plays the Symphonie
fantastique at Festival de Lanaudière, July 12 with a broadcast on the Chaine
culturelle of Radio-Canada on July 18 at 1:30 p.m. Tickets: 1 800
561-4343.
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