| |
Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov
(1844-1908)- Sheherazade, Op. 34 
Before devoting himself to music Rimsky-Korsakov was an officer of the
Russian Navy. (Perhaps this experience inspired some of the ocean storm
music in this piece?) He soon became acquainted with Russia's leading
composers and established a group known as "The Five" who set out to create
nationalistic Russian music separate from the rest of Europe. This was
typical late 19th-century nationalism-- practically every country in Europe
sought to do this. Also typical of the late 19th century is a fascination
with the Orient. (Here, the orient refers to the Middle East, not the Far
East.) The Turkish empire was in decline and therefore no longer a threat.
Consequently, Europe became enamored of its culture. It is in this context
that Sheherazade (1888) is set.
The composition is inspired by a story about a misogynistic Sultan who
slept with a new virgin concubine every night, and had them beheaded the
next morning. When the Kingdom's supply of maidens was running low, even
the chief Vizier's daughter had to be sacrificed. Her name was Sheherazade.
When her night came, she told the king a story about genies, sorcerers,
magic carpets, desert sand storms, and ocean storms of thunder and brine.
The Sultan fell asleep during the story and woke up without hearing the
conclusion. He therefore delayed the girl's execution and ordered her back
into his chamber the following night to hear the rest of the tale. Thus
Sheherazade kept the Sultan enraptured with fables for 1,001 nights-- saving
her own life and the lives of many girls. When the story finally finished,
the Sultan was a transformed man; he asked for Sheherazade's hand and made
her his queen.
Rimsky-Korsakov depicts this legend with music. The piece begins with
an ominous fortissimo statement in unison by the entire orchestra.
Whenever that phrase appears, especially blaring in the heavy brass, it
represents the satanic Sultan. In utter contrast to this statement full of
machismo and brute force is a delicately flowing section played by the solo
violin and the harp. This represents Sheherazade.
The work unfolds in a
classical four-movement format: fast-dance-slow-fast. But instead of
traditional generic titles such as allegro and adagio, the movements are
given descriptive epithets from Sheherazade's various stories. In the first
movement, entitled The Sea and Sinbad's Ship, the strings play an
undulating line representing fierce waves, while the rest of the orchestra--
playing a version of the Sultan's theme-- represents a seasick Sinbad on a
ship.
The second movement, The Story of the Kalendar Prince tells of a
prince who disguised himself and traveled with a band of dervishes (twirling
dancers). A beautiful melody tells of their travels perhaps. The Royal's
true character brakes out in the brass midway through the movement. The
woodwinds then break into the dizzying dance of the dervishes.
The third movement, The Young Prince and the Young Princess is a
gorgeous love theme fitting to its title. Although it fits with the
middle-eastern oriental genre in which Sheherazade is set-- one can imagine
lovers alone in a palm-shaded oasis-- one could also imagine lovers by a
forest lake in Europe and be just as accurate. (This ties back to the
original Mendelssohn quotation above-- is music really accurate? or is it
accurate because its interpretation can be molded to fit each listener's
interpretation?)
The fourth movement describes, a "Festival in Baghdad" followed by "a
shipwreck at sea against rock cliffs." Richly varied and colorful
orchestration narrates a story using techniques that would later be used in
film scoring-- so successful was their drama. The Sultan's and
Sheherazade's themes are brought back in new forms, but finally, after the
adventure of the entire piece, they coalesce into a peaceful union.
Although it cannot be doubted that Rimsky-Korsakov masterfully conjures
up an exotic world with his music, one reservation should be made. The
melodies and harmonies have nothing to do with the real music of the Turks
or the Arabs. In fact, many of the themes could easily fit into his sacred
Russian Orthodox music or his nationalistic Russian symphonies. How is it
then, that listening to this piece we have images of Lawrence of Arabia
floating before our mind's eye? Could this be related to the Mendelssohn's
idea that music is somehow accurate?
Music is ephemeral-- it only exists when it is played, and even then it
is as fleeting as the constantly moving tick of time on which it depends.
It exists in our imagination and is always open to interpretation. The same
song can bring tears or laughter depending on one's mood. It can be argued
that therefore music is ambiguous rather than accurate, lending itself to
many emotions. But I think that this very flexibility is what allows it to
always be on the mark. It can become whatever we want it to become and can
therefore always embody whatever it is that we desire. |
|