Monday 6 April 2020

The Isle of the Dead

From the title, some of my readers may be expecting me to bring in Rachmaninoff's tone poem of that name.  Well, they're right -- but only partly.  Rachmaninoff was not the only composer whose musical inspiration was fired by Arnold Böcklin's symbolist painting, Die Toteninsel.

The picture, first of all, depicts a towering rocky island  punctuated with doorways that suggest burial crypts.  A boat approaches the shore, rowed by an oarsman, and bearing a draped casket, with a robed and hooded figure standing watch over the body.  Böcklin plainly set great store by the theme, since he created five versions of the picture between 1880 and 1886; the third version is shown here.  The title of the picture was actually not the artist's, but was suggested by an art dealer.


Rachmaninoff's tone poem, composed in 1909, is remarkable for its uniquely unsettling and evocative use of 5/8 rhythm.  The choice of a barcarolle, with its rhythm replicating the sounds of the oars dipping into the water, was a natural enough idea.  Rachmaninoff, though, dislocates expectation by setting his A minor barcarolle in a stately 5-beat rhythm, 2-2-1, repeated over and over as a rising tonic-dominant-tonic figure in A minor in the bass.  Over this rhythm, melodic lines slowly appear, all of which are variants on the idea of a rising triadic arpeggio.  This simple formula produces a lengthy musical paragraph of great diversity of texture.  Over the course of the music, the orchestration grows steadily broader and grander, to the point where that main theme erupts with great force in the full orchestra.

A contrasting central section brings a more varied, somewhat wistful melody, very plainly by the same composer as the slow movements of the more famous second and third piano concertos.  This too is gradually worked up to a climax of passion and regret.  After a brief lull, a second and even more anguished climax grinds its way through the orchestra until the music darkens and disintegrates into a massive tremolo above which six huge staccato chords extinguish this more humane song of life.  The Dies irae medieval plainchant appears, is briefly developed, and then a cello solo leads to the return of the opening barcarolle, in all its quiet, mysterious depth.

Incidentally, or perhaps not, Rachmaninoff had not seen any of the versions of the painting but only a black-and-white reproduction of it before composing his tone poem.  After he saw one of the actual paintings, he remarked that he preferred it in black and white and probably wouldn't have written the music at all if he had seen the picture in full colour!

Rachmaninoff was only one of half a dozen or more composers who composed works inspired by this painting. The only other version I've heard is the work of Max Reger, one of four movements of his Böcklin Suite.  Although written four years after Rachmaninoff's work, Reger's piece sounds like it could be older, some of the densely chromatic harmonies being positively Wagnerian.  

This work was actually a major departure for Reger, who until this time had resolutely continued to compose absolute music, often denying the value of programmatic music.   In sharp contrast to Rachmaninoff's approach, Reger makes no attempt to portray the scene, being content to capture the moods evoked by the picture.  His musical painting always strikes me as being steeped in a very real and human sorrow where Rachmaninoff's more severe work suggests a deeply fatalistic, even hieratic view of death.

The other three movements of Reger's Böcklin Suite are equally fascinating.  The Hermit With a Violin uses winds, brasses, and a double string orchestra, one playing with mutes and one without, to provide a backcloth for the slow, lyrical violin solo.  At Play in the Waves, representing a painting of naiads and tritons disporting themselves in the sea, brings a faster, more playful sound world whose sparkling sea music can stand comparison with Debussy.  The Isle of the Dead follows in third place, and the final Bacchanal is a riotous summing up of sheer virtuoso orchestral brilliance.

 

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