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| Bactrian camels during intermission. Photo from wikimedia commons, by Jerome Kohl. |
This long-awaited premiere completes a massive cycle of
experimental music dramas, and while interesting, it seems unlikely to herald
the new form of spirituality that its composer wanted.
I can think of
no-one more deeply affected by the highs and lows of the twentieth century than
the composer Stockhausen, and this may mean that his art will become a museum
piece, however influential and futuristic it may have seemed to contemporaries.
This mummification may already be happening, with
the final component of his 25-year musico-dramatic ‘spiral’ being performed in
Birmingham after many years of failed attempts in more famous locations. Regardless,
this is still a significant coup for the enterprising Birmingham Opera Company.
It’s probably best to consider Wednesday (from the
‘Light’ Cycle, comprising works on each day of the week) as a piece of
experimental music theatre, rather than approach it with standard operatic
expectations.
A formidable amount of exegesis is available on Light, with some
of it given to the audience in Birmingham, though I wonder if anyone new to the
composer would be able to understand any of it, or make the attempt. Many of
the audience members seemed to be fully subscribed Stockhausen acolytes, and
could discuss such things as the superformula, with its component parts for the
‘characters’ Eve, Michael and Lucifer.
I think this way of approaching Light,
as if it were similar to Wagner’s Ring Cycle, is both a waste of time and
demeans the composer’s intentions, though I don't suggest he succeeds in
whatever higher intentions I think he had.
For example, the three main
characters do not feature in the 6 hour of this drama, except in occasional
namechecks. And apart from the Lucicamel, a scene-stealing pantomime
planet-shitting camel, all the other characters are ciphers, without
distinguishable personalities.
Several hours of this drama involve no character
whatever, only musicians playing instruments as if in an orchestra (admittedly
one suspended in the air) or in a string quartet (admittedly one where each
member is in their own helicopter).
Looking for a plot or indeed any form of
non-musical development is surely misguided. The detailed aspects of the music,
the motifs, the technologies, whatever, must be taken as the restraints any
composer needs in order to produce a coherent soundworld.
So what did Stockhausen intend with Light? I can’t comment
too much, as I’ve not seen the other instalments. But who has? Sadly, not even
the composer, who died several years ago. Maybe the best anyone can do is listen to CDs,
which is absolutely not the same and may further encourage the mistaken view
that the musical complexity is paramount.
So with those caveats, I tentatively suggest
that the works in Light represent separate moods, ideas, etc, rather than
anything involving a narrative. In this, it reflects the ritualistic original
nature of the names of the days, among other things. F
or example, we are
informed Wednesday is a day of reconciliation, that yellow is its colour, and
so on. Then throughout the piece, these associations are referenced, visually
and aurally. In two semi-dramatised scenes, the world and universal parliaments
respectively, we experience the destructive impulse (‘Lucifer’) accepting
harmony with the creative (‘Eve’) and the synthesising (‘Michael’)
impulses. The dramatic thrust is provided by the musical development, rather
than through staged events (‘events on stage’ being misapplied as nothing as
recherché as a stage would be used).
So we’re presented with an attempt to create a ritual that
is both fundamentally secular yet spiritually satisfying – in other words, an
attempt to create something with religious significance, outside any existing religion.
Even the attempt seems peculiarly twentieth-century, perhaps specifically New
Age, the milieu that Stockhausen both directly influenced and to which he seems
to have converted in his last decades. A zany hippy mentality pervades
Wednesday, an eclectic mix of non-European music, popular music, electronic
music, and all the rest.
The Helicopter Quartet mentioned previously is both a
whacky idea yet thought-provoking, as the logistics imply that music could be
made from musicians located on different planets, as Stockhausen remarks in the
notes. Art surely cannot get more conceptual
than this, but thankfully the music isn’t as uninspired as that term might lead
us to suspect.
And this last aspect – is the music appealing or inspired? –
is in the end the most important consideration if this work is not to become a
curiosity, influential or not.
Light is an extraordinary combination of techniques in practically
every area of post-War art, drama, theatre and music, but the composer primarily
intended it to move, to appeal, to achieve something. Did he succeed? Well, I
didn’t feel more harmonious at the end of the work, but I would be interested in experiencing
it again.
I think this makes it an interesting failure, though I would be willing to
change my mind if I could experience the whole thing.
I haven’t commented on the performers and production values,
as with something as extraordinary and unique as this, the work itself needs a lot of thought. But I was astonished by Graham
Vick’s ability to enthuse a huge team of actors, dancers, singers and
instrumentalists, many placed in situations they’ve surely never previously experienced.
