Finnish Contemporary composer Einojuhani Rautavaara [1928 – 2016] wrote four string quartets. The last was from 1975 so he may have never again worked in the genre. The work under discussion was composed in 1958. The review CD also contains a wonderful string quintet – if I hadn’t discussed one last week, I probably would have gone with it. I shall keep it on the list. Wikipedia suggests that the composer embraced serialism in his early works, but didn’t find it particularly fruitful – Rautavaara definitely moved into a different sound world in the ensuing years.
The Second Quartet opens with a short solo violin passage before a chaotic ensemble enters. The sound is strong with forceful first violin statements as abstract harmonies and melodic lines are played behind the violin. A hint of pizzicato doesn’t change the texture, which is dense. The violin seems to muse in an entropic manner. Now the ensemble regathers forces, but the violin won’t be tempered. This music appears to be moving along, never seeming to settle – at times, I would even term it agitated. The violin continues with atonal lines, spread across a mystifying background, sometimes displaying echoes of Arnold Schoenberg’s First Quartet, from 50 years earlier. A further forceful section emerges, with the rhythm palpable, whilst the violin maintains its constant stream of entropic, melodic ideas. I have this strange feeling of a pulse, but there is no obvious tempo, which is rather puzzling. Finally, the intensity drops, only to rebuild before it ends, unexpectedly.
The second movement, marked allegro, again features a mysterious sound, probably due to the fact that Rautavaara flirted with serialism in his early works, which could explain this unusual quality. I find the abstraction rather appealing, especially the concept of the music moving forward but not going anywhere in particular – it just is. A gentle period allows for some lonely pizzicato plucks, as the harmonies work their magic underneath. Now most of the interest comes from the ensemble, as the various instruments add movement and character to the sound. I’d have to say the mood is constant, even though the voicings are changing, if that is not a contradiction. This is music that you can’t quite put your finger on, or hold down – it just moves, propelled by some strange force, and ends abruptly.
The next, adagio movement features long violin tones that mesh into a lamenting abstract soundscape. The chords formed have a certain introspective beauty about them. This is similar to the previous movement in that the music progresses, but is not obvious as to where. It is a collage of interesting, atonal sounds of sustained notes, gradually moving into shorter tones from the first violin. This is not confronting music, but it exhibits a high level of abstraction, and, is quite pleasing, almost warm. The sound of the arco cello, holding long tones, is particularly powerful. A pause ensues, but there is no significant change in that which follows. The violin seems more prominent now, but the accompaniment is more measured than before. I would characterise it as lamenting and it really does evoke Schoenberg for me, albeit definitely more static.
If this is serial music, I need to hear more of it, as I am very attracted to these types of sound. A pause causes the violin to re-awaken, as it prods the ensemble into a leisurely passage of poignant tones. Again, the cello is marvellous as its long tones reach out, as if comforting the violin, which still laments. Sometimes this sound falls into moderate dissonance, but again, is never confronting. The music’s charm is in the stasis. There may be a touch of New Age sensibility here, but it never affects me in the way New Age does, namely a sense of the bland. The music drifts somewhat aimlessly and it edges forward, without movement. A new rhythm is found in the motifs of the violin and cello, which represents a change, the first in the movement before ending on a faded violin and cello passage.
The final movement, marked animato is exactly that, animated. The sound of scurrying violins evokes the feeling of dark back streets and small animals. Melodies now move quickly, with short, abrupt notes. A pause allows a solo violin a brief section until the ensemble moves in behind it. The four instruments display no apparent harmony – this is a very 1950-60s sound. I must investigate Rautavaara’s later quartets, to see where they lead for comparison. The animato doesn’t seem so obvious anymore, it is a little like the second movement allegro. Now the violin moves into longer statements, with the second violin following, almost giving chase. The cello again is warm, luxuriant and a perfect foil to the sound of the musing violins. Its lamenting line seems to go on.
A tension arises and the violins spit out rapid notes, while ascending motifs in the background lead to the most tense passage in the whole work. This music has a lot more impetus, but I still can’t feel a tempo. A brief pause allows the cello to introduce a vigorous section where the violins constantly rise to the surface, express, then dive again. Now the mood is just one of abstract bliss – you could reach out and touch it, with the cello, oh so mellow. Finally, the tension has dissipated and a sense of peace comes over the music. It gently rumbles, to conclude.
I feel that I have been on a long journey, but have no idea of where I have been. Such are the possibilities of serial music, which is not a style, but more a system of approaching composition. I am sure that there are strange people secreted away somewhere, still creating this music, as there would be for all kinds of styles.
As I stated before, Rautavaara moved through various other musical approaches in his long life. For instance the orchestration in his many concertos sounds nothing like this early quartet.
The review CD, titled Rautavaara: String Quartets 1-2 / String Quintet, performed by the Sibelius Quartet and released on the Ondine label is available from Amazon UK and US.
This particular disc is on Spotify, and all of the music can be heard at earsense and YouTube.
Listenability: Slow-moving late 1950s serialist work – quite introverted and never raises a sweat.