Following the semi-concertante performances of Lohengrin in the Concertgebouw on 18 and 20 December (for a review see here) we will reveal the winner of our Lohengrin-contest. A battle between the old and the new. Lauritz Melchior (the Heroic) vs Klaus Florian Vogt (the Angelic). And the outcome may surprise some people ...
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Because it was the Lohengrin of Klaus Florian Vogt who prevailed with 54% of the votes over Lauritz Melchior (who got, subsequently, 46%).
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It was a DVD with a production from the Festspielhaus Baden-Baden that introduced me to Klaus Florian Vogt. A voice that I had to get used to. His tenor seemed too light in comparison with the voices of Jess Thomas and Sandor Konya I knew. That was 10 years ago. But Vogt’s voice lived up to its full potential since. It matured and gained in emotional impact and the role of Lohengrin must be like a second skin to him now. He must be able to sing the role in his sleep. Vogt is a voice especially for Lohengrin (and Parsifal). I don’t hear in him Tristan or Siegfried. And he changed my perception how I hear the role now (so in this poll I would have given him the nod). And how much I like Jonas Kaufman, his voice lacks the angelic element that Vogt so inseparably linked to this role.

For the other contender I went back in time. He is on one of those rare recordings I consider perfect: the first act of Die Walkure under the baton of Bruno Walter with Lotte Lehmann as Sieglinde (see here). His career in Wagner has mammoth dimensions. His Siegmund, Tristan and Siegfried are legendary. I didn't know about his Lohengrin to be honest but some web searching convinced me pretty soon that he would be more than an adequate rival for Vogt. With Lauritz Melchior it would become a clash, not only between generations but also between styles; the Heroic vs the Angelic.

Last week I attended a performance of Stockhausen's Mantra in the Muziekgebouw aan 't IJ in Amsterdam. A piece in which two pianos (Pierre-Laurent Aimard and Tamara Stefanovich) engage in conversation. Cacophony for ears that are new to this music, but fascinating nonetheless.

With listening to (classical) music one can get caught in what I shall call “an obsession with the right notes”. Are the notes - when they come to you in a not so familiair harmonic language - played correctly? Is there any kind of structure in this mayhem I'm hearing? A significant part of how you are going to appreciate (or not) a piece of music can depend on the (positive) answer to these questions because you don't want to feel cheated or lost. There can be a need for wanting to rely on the composer's integrity if the structure of a piece seems determined to hide itself. And that need can be most persistent.

There is this video clip on YouTube. It shows Maurizio Pollini playing a piece for piano by Stockhausen. Pollini is counting. You see his jaw going up and down, like he is whispering. I have never seen him do that in Beethoven or Chopin. It's like the notes  in Klavierstücke IX  don't reveal their connection when he is playing them. He has to secure the relation between the notes by counting. To prevent that they will become islands. Entire of themselves. 

And it's remarkable how heavy metal can open the gates through which modern classical music can enter. The gap between the musical world of Stockhausen's Mantra and the piano sonatas from Joseph Haydn is a bigger one than the gap between the former and a metal song. It's a bit like industrial noise in a unplugged session that is not completely unplugged. Nine Inch Nails, played on two pianos, percussion and a ring modulator - a device that synthesizes the notes from the piano into combination notes (thus turning harmonic sounds into enharmonic sounds). It added reverb on the piano that, unlike standard pedalling, didn't sound especially  lush but gave it a touch of gamelan music. And at the fray ends of the sounds coming from the piano one could hear the fruits, both sour and sweet, of the industrial revolution. As if the music tried to came to terms with modern times. Tries to embrace what becomes, eventually, inevitable.

During the 75 minutes of Mantra, there are a lot of things going on in which one can search, with futile efforts, for some points of reference. I, clean washed by the heavy metal therapy in the days prior, thinking more in sonic colors than in contrapuntal finesse, just let it happen. It's not that the mind, always looking for some kind of inner logic, isn't completely left to it but it took some time before the structure of the piece started to show glimpses of itself. It's as if the music is constructed with very specific ideas about sound in mind, more than it shows itself as the next logical step after Schönberg and the Second Vienna School. More like hip hop – with its samples based on colors of sound – than like traditional pop music – with its instruments tuned in a certain key. But as far as music theory goes, I have to admit that I lack expertise to back that comparison up.

The dissonances in Stockhausen's music seem to revolt against the music that generations before him came up with. A bit like the power chords in heavy metal do. In both cases you can draw the same kind of energy from it. It's funny that looking for a stepping stone that would help me accept and appreciate the musical world of Karlheinz Stockhausen, I found help in the rock music of my youth first, before I looked for points of reference in 20-century composers like Pierre Boulez or György Ligeti (while I play Pli Selon Pli for entertainment purposes and I knew Pierre-Laurent Aimard already from a CD with piano music of Ligeti that I highly value).
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The dialogue between pianos in Mantra is not without humor. It even stretches that humor a bit by times – like a joke that it's told a few times too many. After one hour (around 1.03.25 in the video below) the music turns into some kind of Boogie Woogie-on-steroids that feels like a perpetuum mobile (be it only for a few minutes). It's the zenith of a piece of music that I receive with some proper back-and-forth movements of the head. Mantra from Karlheinz Stockhausen is caffeine for the brain that generates energy not unlike that of a rock concert. I say "Hell yeah!" to that.