Between rite and disorder
Sweeping aside the eternal
question of the arbitrary grafting of choreography onto pre-existing music,
associating the music of Boulez with dance will appear incongruous to some
people and welcome to others. Paying tribute to Boulez in an evening of ballet
alongside Ligeti and Stravinsky might seem a challenging prospect if one
overlooks the primordial importance of rhythm in his work; his famous analysis
of Rite
of Spring is, however, there
to remind us of it. Was he not criticised for precisely that – for sacrificing
everything, or nearly everything, to the rhythmic dimension alone? As for
Ligeti, if he dedicated Disorder, his
first piano study, to Boulez on the occasion of his 60th birthday, wasn’t that a malicious
reference to the dedicatee’s reservations concerning Ligeti’s analysis of Structures?
Between the analyser and the analysed, the relationship is not without discord
or ambivalence: any gift implies an exchange and naïve indeed is he who
imagines he understands all the implications of that gift.
Primordial Rhythm
One of the decisive shocks
of the Boulez experience was incontestably the realisation that it was now
possible to conceive music in which rhythm was not only independent of the
other elements of the composition, but could even precede them and subordinate
them to its own prerogatives, taking examples like the iso-rhythmic motets of
the 14th century,
the stylised dances of the Baroque period, Stravinsky’s ballets and Messiaen’s
rhythmic studies. The perplexity of Boulez’s critics stems largely from their
determination to consider his work in terms of obsolete categories, in
particular giving priority to the mere observation of sound – which with Boulez
is often no more than a layer applieda posteriori to pre-existing rhythmic structures,
the temporal counterpoint defining first and foremost the texture and formal
articulation, given substance later in sound.
Antiphony and heterophony
Whence the reading of a score which
is complex only in appearance – our western notation requiring subordination to
assure the collective synchronisation of bars, resulting either in permanent
metric adaptations or in awkward syncopations straddling the bar line because
of their often arbitrary application to independent rhythmic groups. Such
apparently insurmountable obstacles have sometimes contributed to precluding
Boulez’s music from all attempts at visual transposition. In the case of works
written for instrumental soloist, the problem no longer subsists in the same
terms since, no longer needing to assure the synchronisation of individual
parts, the notation may be either barred or unbarred according to the demands
of the musical context. In compositions mixing instrumental and electronic
sounds, the composer either takes the precaution of avoiding superimposing
natural and artificial sources or defines sufficiently supple homogenous
heterophonic textures so that the figures thus produced appear to have been
instantaneously sparked off by the central instrument – thus operating a return
to the very sources of antiphony.
Illusory fear
Having dealt with imaginary
obstacles such as the absence of bar lines, strong beats and unequivocal formal
articulation, the usual markers of progression on a arsis /
thesis (movement / rest) axis
– the performer is at liberty to direct his action according to moments of
mobility or immobility, of action or stillness, as the music exploits the
performer’s intuitive sense of the absence or presence of underlying
pulsations. This is what aroused Ligeti’s curiosity and his sense of this
music, so foreign to his musical upbringing, as a permanent see-sawing between
order and disorder: the constant sense of excited anticipation that one feels
when listening, an electric shock threatening darkly to manifest itself at any
moment. This is what also intrigued Gilles Deleuze, who went so far as to base
his own theoretical reflections on the Boulezian categories of temps
lisseand temps
strié – in other words,
audible (perceptible) or inaudible metric pulsation.
Representing the invisible
Pierre Boulez has conducted a good
many ballets, almost invariably in the concert hall with, however, a few
exceptions: The Rite of
Spring (Salzbourg, 1962), Les
Noces and Renard (Paris, 1965), with Maurice
Béjart. Other, more episodic encounters include collaborations with Lucinda
Childs and Ron Thornhill (Moses and Aaron, Amsterdam, 1995) and with Pina
Bausch on her production ofBluebeard’s Castle,
(Aix-en-Provence, 1998). During John Cage’s Paris visit in 1949, Boulez met
Merce Cunningham but the encounter did not lead anywhere. The only attempt at
long-term collaboration, the reform of the Théâtres Lyriques Nationaux
(1967-68), which was to have associated Boulez, Béjart and Vilar, failed in the
wake of the events of May 1968. This did not discourage Béjart, however, from
meeting the challenge threefold: stimulated by Boulez’s rhythmic refinement and
a plasticity in terms of sound that had not escaped his sensibilities, he
choreographed Le Marteau sans maître (Milan, 1973), Pli
selon pli(Brussels, 1975) and Dialogue de l’ombre double (Lausanne, 1998). Two years later,
this last composition was used for a highly remarkable equestrian choreography
created by Bartabas with his company Zingaro for a production entitled Triptyk, which
also featured The Rite of Spring and Symphony
of Psalms, also by Stravinsky (Paris, 2000).
The acoustic gesture
Whilst gaining experience as a
conductor, Boulez developed the concept of the gestural score of which traces
remain in Improvisation
II sur Mallarmé (1957),Éclat (1965) Rituel (1975) and Répons (1981). In these works, the order in
which the musical interventions are played is indicated to the watchful
performers spontaneously by the conductor, thus renewing links with the
etymology of the word choreography: χορεία (khoreía : «choric dance ») and γραφή (graph :
« writing »), the music of sound signs – notation and aurality. The origin of this highly
plastic concept lies in Boulez’s attentive observation of silent theatrical
techniques during his period of apprenticeship with the Renaud-Barrault Company
(1946-56), as well as of certain non-European musical practices, both ritual
and scenic: Japan (Gagaku, No, Bunraku and Kabuki), Bali (Gamelan), Brazil
(candomble), Central Africa (polyrhythms). The future apprentice conductor
initially intended to embark on a career as an ethnomusicologist until the war
in Indochina prevented him from pursuing his vocation.
Listening with the body
It is for the choreograph to trace
the indissoluble frontier between the visible and the invisible, between the
gesture of sound production and that produceddirectly from the sound source, as in those
oriental graphics in which the empty spaces suggest their optical
reconstitution to those who scrutinise them. The six loud-speakers in Anthèmes
2 ( a late avatar of “…explosante-fixe…”,
1971) reply to those of Dialogue de l’ombre double (rhizomorphic excrescence of Domaines,
1968): multiple reflections in reverberating sound mirrors disorientate the
listener like a character lost in the hall of mirrors in The
Lady from Shanghai by Orson
Welles (1947). The clarinet gives way to the violin which converses in turn
with its imaginary doubles, multiplying their sound sources at the very moment
they disappear – like the bow of Yehudi Menuhin, (who commissioned the first
version of Anthèmes)
conversing with the plectrum of Ravi Shankar.
Robert Piencikowski is a French
musicologist, Robert Piencikowski teaches musical analysis at the IRCAM college
and is responsible for the archives of Pierre Boulez at the Paul Sacher
Foundation in Bâle as well as those of Arthur Honegger, Darius Milhaud, Henri
Dutilleux, Henri Pousseur, Vinko Globokar, Peter Eötvös, Gérard Grisey, etc.
https://www.operadeparis.fr/en/magazine/boulez-dance-rhythm
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