|
Post by driscollmusick on Jun 27, 2018 16:10:28 GMT
Synced with the Bernstein recording of the Cooke version... As you may know, only the first movement was fully orchestrated. The rest of the movements (including this, the last one) was only drafted in short score and has had to be interpreted into an orchestration (here Cooke's version, the most famous one)
|
|
|
Post by Tim Marko on Jul 3, 2018 21:05:23 GMT
I enjoy seeing the original notes and manuscripts from the masters. Almost gives you a glimpse into what they were thinking. Have compared the notes with Cooke's final version?
There's a site that has a number of Copland's sketches that is also interesting. (I can't seem to find it now, but I believe it's part of the "Copland Foundation" or something similar.
|
|
|
Post by driscollmusick on Jul 4, 2018 17:26:39 GMT
I enjoy seeing the original notes and manuscripts from the masters. Almost gives you a glimpse into what they were thinking. Have compared the notes with Cooke's final version? There's a site that has a number of Copland's sketches that is also interesting. (I can't seem to find it now, but I believe it's part of the "Copland Foundation" or something similar. I haven't compared, other than listening to the recording while reading the handwritten score. What I think is so remarkable is how well the last movement holds up, despite really being just a sketch. It's sort of like Michelangelo's Rondanini Pieta, somehow more profound because of its half-finishedness.
|
|
|
Post by Mike Hewer on Jul 5, 2018 13:28:12 GMT
It's sort of like Michelangelo's Rondanini Pieta, somehow more profound because of its half-finishedness.
I had a recording on vinyl of St Martins in the Field and Marriner doing the Art of Fugue. You're probably aware that the last great fugue is unfinished and on the recording, they played every note and stopped in mid bar as it is on the MS. I can't help but feel loss every time I get to that point in the great work. Perhaps the profundity you mention John is a result of our mortality - the human condition - the well-spring of all art?
|
|
|
Post by driscollmusick on Jul 5, 2018 15:22:31 GMT
It's sort of like Michelangelo's Rondanini Pieta, somehow more profound because of its half-finishedness.
I had a recording on vinyl of St Martins in the Field and Marriner doing the Art of Fugue. You're probably aware that the last great fugue is unfinished and on the recording, they played every note and stopped in mid bar as it is on the MS. I can't help but feel loss every time I get to that point in the great work. Perhaps the profundity you mention John is a result of our mortality - the human condition - the well-spring of all art? Yes, I think we feel our mortality with the truly incomplete works (i.e., the ones where death struck the composer mid-composition--the Bach you mention, Mozart's Requiem, Puccini's Turandot). After the Death of Liu at the Turandot premiere, Toscanini famously put down his baton, turned to the audience and said "Here the master laid down his pen." Although many of these pieces were *completed* by others, a knowledgeable listener will always usually reckon with the missing elements. In the recording you mention, every listener will be forced to reckon! I did mean something a little different, however. That is, art where the full structure of the work is apparent (completed), but many of the details are left unfinished. I read that some art folks consider this Michelangelo an early piece of "modern" art. Art like this, whether due to the artist's death or an intentional choice, forces the audience to contemplate the big picture, the artist's big statement, instead of focusing on the finery. It's a kind of minimalism, really, tweaking our expectations of normal artistic appreciation.
|
|