Stravinsky laughs. Then he takes off his coat. He quickly arranges the music stands for the orchestra and tells the professors where they should situate themselves. The first rehearsal of his works is about to begin. The joyful sounds of Petrushka reach us.53 And we marvel at the strong and free rhythm of this terrific Polish [sic] musician.
Veu de Catalunya, 25 March 1928
Conversation with Stravinsky
José Farran i Mayoral
This Is Not an Interview
No interviews now.54 The strategic positions of interviewer and interviewee are not appropriate for the warm, trusting, and free conversation of friends: in the fraternal exchange of ideas, many things are simply taken for granted, understood; above all, one is allowed freedom of opinion about works and personalities, and a certain toying with paradoxes; the foundation of professionalism, of loyal and sincere admiration, remains unscathed. We say this because some quick, dazzling judgments of the Maestro, repeated without nuance or allusion to the understandings we have just described, literally reproduced, might seem compromising and would certainly distort his true and complete thought.55
Stravinsky is, no need to repeat it, a genius; his knowledge of culture as well is vast and well rooted; the penetration and agility of his thought causes wonder at each step; ideas spill richly and joyfully from his lips. He is an inexhaustible conversationalist. There are few like him who feel the sovereign joy of high conversation, which so pleases us and which we rarely find ways for satisfying among ourselves.
From the wealth of thoughts and opinions and observations that our memory retains from our conversation with Stravinsky, we are pleased to now excerpt for our readers some things that may interest them.
Stravinsky Religiosity
We meet again with the Maestro in a quiet room at the Ritz Hotel, shake his dear hand: and, while Igor Stravinsky poses for a portrait that his friend Callicó will make, the ideas immediately take flight.56 The religiosity of the great musician is known; ladies, we discussed religion. He tells us about the spiritual and intellectual good attributed to Saint Thomas Aquinas. He talks about his friends Jean Cocteau and Jacques Maritain, the great French scholar, whom we know and love so well.57 Stravinsky is now acutely interested in the great mystics: he speaks of St. John of the Cross, of St. Theresa.58 Suddenly his large, strange eyes light up with greater enthusiasm and admiration: he has just mentioned St. Theresa of Child Jesus.59 He complains that her message has been distorted, belittled, fireworks remade into sickly sweet chrome, whereas the girl saint is the most formidable example of heroic, strong will in our time. He names and comments on various saints—St. Jerome, for example—and religious philosophers—Solovyov, among others.60 He talks at length of Ramon Llull.61 The Maestro takes a lively interest in our great mystic, the great seat of intelligence and holiness.
Oedipus Rex
It is called Oedipus: Stravinsky’s latest victory, the oratorio now famous everywhere.62
“See, see what I wanted to do,” he says with that smile that glows with intelligence.
From the great number of explanations of techniques and ideologies we will extract, in the most straightforward possible manner, some essential points for our readers. Elsewhere, our “Music Page” has commented on the prodigious technique, the harmonic and polyphonic discipline that the Maestro has imposed on the strength of his brilliant conception.63
We thus insist above all on a point to which Stravinsky gives great importance: how to understand the relationship between word and music. It has now been three years since we spoke at length about an endeavor undertaken in his famous ballet Les Noces. His desire to purify music of every extramusical element is known. This leads him to want to cleanse words, too, of all extramusical elements. Some people object to this, and we speak with the Maestro about these experiments: “What necessity is there to use words in your music?” We think we have found a fitting explanation: the Maestro doesn’t want to ignore the human voice as the wonderful instrument it is, and must necessarily use its articulated manifestation, speech. And it is not paradoxical, given his inclinations, to want to make use of it not as expression, but as pure music. In contrast to the traditional concept, which subjects music to psychological expressiveness or the dramatic meaning of the words, in Oedipus, the Maestro explains, word becomes pure matter to be manipulated musically, as marble or stone serve the work of sculpture. Thus in the ballet Les Noces there are different songs written in verse where the Russian words do not make logical sense, but are ordered instead according to their pure sonorous and rhythmic possibilities. Oedipus represents a step forward in this experiment; it is understood, the Maestro tells us, that no matter how much a musician reworks a living, present-day language, it contains for us many elements that evoke emotions and feelings that distract from its value as purely musical material. For this reason, a dead language was needed; Stravinsky thought of ancient Slavic, Greek, and Latin. Latin was the best, because it is a definitively fixed language: frozen we could say, and at the same time, more or less known by everyone, thanks to its diffusion by the Church; so that it does not confuse the ears as Slavic or Greek would.
So, the Latin version of Oedipus Rex, based on a libretto written by Jean Cocteau, provides an excellent text that can serve, as we would say in academic terms, as “material” suitable to receive the “form” of music.
It goes without saying that Stravinsky has taken into account Latin metrics and has made much of the musical values it establishes in syllables, short and long poetic feet, etc.
The choice of the fable of Oedipus also obeys the principle of distancing the audience, as much as possible, from any dramatic or extra-musical interest, offering a fable that is, as Stravinsky says, “archetypal.”
It is precisely this concept of word-music-material that has distanced Stravinsky from song, the “lied,” which in younger years he had so gloriously cultivated.
And now some happy news: Stravinsky has already committed to presenting Oedipus to us next season.64
The Clarity of the Rite
Magnificent proof of this musical refinement: the Rite, without the ballet, gains rather than loses musically, since the listener is not distracted from the superb formal qualities of the piece.65 Rhythmic and sonorous audacity: but the whole work has been given a wonderful backbone—we cannot find more just words to express its great architectural severity, and the great clarity of forms and lines, and the great clarity of conception, and all the conscious joy of “explaining it” to the listener. After the dress rehearsal, we ask Stravinsky:
“How do you ‘explain’ your work, Maestro?”
“To explain—that is the word!” he gives us the satisfaction of answering. He adds: “Isn’t it true that [music] is clear and understandable? I am sure that your very intelligent public will understand it well. I think it is necessary to be hopeless at art and at music to find them obscure or confusing.”
“We agree, Maestro.”
The Classicism of Petrushka
The dress rehearsal for Petrushka is done.66 How different the work seems when conducted by the Maestro! How wonderful and refined the forms that on other occasions go unnoticed. Not until now has that superb structure revealed itself in the perfection of its parts, the daintiness and grace of detail, the great harmonious beauty of the whole. Thinking about these things, we tell Stravinsky:
“If this work is not considered classic, I don’t know what is meant by classic. Classic in the good sense, I mean to say.”
“The word classic,” Stravinsky answered, “always has a good sense.”
“Yes, for you and for me; but you know how often classicism is mistaken for just another formula, as academicism, servile imitation of antiquity, etc., etc.”
“It’s true,” he answers with disdain, “but who is making these mistakes?”
Stravinsky and Modernity
“So, are you pleased to be a classic?”
“I feel honored by this adjective.”
“Ah, no! Not that!”
“This gives me great satisfaction, Maestro, because a few days ago I had to defend you against a dear friend of mine who, thinking he was praising you, applied the adjective ‘modern’ to you with all goodwill.”
“Oh, how awful! See? All this about modern, avant-garde, everything that limits art to a fashion is insufferable; the era of ‘isms,’ of programs and manifestos, has surely passed. That was fifteen or twenty years ago; now that kind of thing is done in the provinces.”
“That’s right, Maestro, in art there is no ancient or modern; attributing any time to things of art is a deplorable mistake. We have to work in centuries, don’t we?”
“In thousands of centuries,” Stravinsky answers. “And because you see my aspirations so exactly, I will tell you something that happened to me in New York. One day, going back to the hotel, I find a long line of reporters from the big newspapers, asking for interviews. It being impossible to please them all one by one, I ask them to come into my room; there are not enough seats in the room so everyone sits on the floor, in a semicircle, with their notebooks and pencils in hand. And they ask me a collective question: What do you think about modern music? I am astonished: Sirs, I tell them, you are on the wrong floor, no doubt.
“The next day, the major New Yorker newspapers publish long and, needless to say, fantastical articles, with big capital letters: ‘Stravinsky is not a modern musician,’ and others of that nature.”68
Apollon musagète
At the bar of the Petit Liceu, in a corner the Maestro likes, where three years ago, he is so kind to remember, we became good friends, Stravinsky talks about a piece he is working on that will have a very classic title: Apollon musagète. Apollo leads the Muses. A ballet: Apollo himself, crowned with laurels, will be the main character. The concept of the ballet is very simple and the dances something very traditional; it will use the pas de deux, for example, well known by the disciples of Pauleta Pàmies.69 But Stravinsky can’t touch anything without it being immediately transformed by the infusion of his creative originality. And the new ballet will be something both universal and highly personal, we are sure. However, the tradition is there. The scenery will have the classic forest, some temple or other, etc. Now, in the first scene, we witness—and this is unusual—the very birth of Apollo, or better put—look up your mythology or the Homeric Hymns so gloriously translated by Maragall—the delivery of Latona.70 Nothing is lacking. A chorus of goddesses welcomes the Olympic child with joy, and in the second act he grants three of the muses—Calliope, Polyhymnia, and Terpsichore—the gifts they later grant to mankind. There’s no lack of a timely apotheosis, either. Everything has a bit of a burlesque air, à la Lucian; everything takes place with great simplicity; the music itself, the Maestro tells us, is also a very simple thing of lines and combinations.
And now a detail rounds out the ensemble of our surprising new information: Stravinsky puts verses in the lips of his characters. Verses, you say? By whom? Oh, kind young men, crazy with modernity: verses by Boileau.
“A great poet, isn’t he, Maestro? A great poet of the intelligentsia.”
“That is very true: a great, wonderful poet.”
Verses from which work? From the one cited so often by anarchists and all kinds of romantics: from L’Art poétique.
So now you know: Stravinsky the ultramodern, the ultra-Futurist, etc., etc.—so called by the many who don’t understand him—will put onto the lips of his characters verses from the very same Nicolas Boileau-Despréaux.71
La Noche (Barcelona), 12 March 1936
Igor Stravinsky and Surrealism
Luis Góngora
Tonight at the Liceu Igor Stravinsky, the most important musician of our time, will conduct the first of the two concerts dedicated to his works during the Lent season, which begins today at our finest theater.72
Before the music of the Divertimento,73 the Capriccio, the Symphony of Psalms, and The Firebird offers us an enthusiastic encounter tonight with the personality of this great composer, we wanted to be near to him so that not only his art, but also the entire aesthetic and ethics that have engendered it, might enrich our understanding of the vivid spiritual reality that is his.
In the foyer of the Ritz the famous composer welcomes us with open arms. After giving us some informative details that we requested regarding his “Concerto” for piano and orchestra,74 the solo part of which will be performed this Sunday by his son, S. Soulima,75 Stravinsky kindly agrees to answer some questions in which we attempt to determine his attitude toward important spiritual realities of our time.
When asked his opinion of Picasso’s Surrealist tendencies and about Surrealism in general, Stravinsky says:76
“I am a very good friend of Picasso, and I admire all of his tendencies. He is always a great artist. Now, I haven’t seen him in a while. We are both essentially solitary and we see each other only from time to time. Speaking for myself, I will say that in Paris, where I live, I go almost nowhere, not artist circles, or theaters, or concerts. I only go to the cinema.
“As for Surrealism, I confess that I haven’t been able to penetrate completely its essence and principles. I can’t agree with it because I don’t work with subjective elements. My artistic purpose is to make an object, though of course I do so with the natural contribution of my own self.77 I create the object because God makes me create it, as He created me. My art is the fruit of pure Christian dialectics. This is another reason why I can’t accept Surrealism, or Communism either, even though I believe that in many respects they are right. It is the bourgeois who is not right. I am an Orthodox Christian, I sympathize with Catholicism and I recognize that in religious matters, those who are neutral—and there are many of them among the bourgeoisie, particularly in France—are more harmful than those who openly fight the Church as in Soviet Russia. Of course, I am in neither camp. Aesthetically, I cannot accept materialism either—championed by both the Surrealists and the Communists—because my religiosity makes me a dualist, and so I seek the beautiful fusion of materialism and spiritualism in everything.”78
We ask him if he thinks the composer Schoenberg’s investigations into atonality might be truly effective for musical composition:79
“Schoenberg is, in my opinion, more of a chemist of music than an artistic creator. His investigations are interesting, since they tend to widen the possibilities of auditory enjoyment, but both he and Hába, who discovered the quarter tone, base themselves80 on quantitative rather than qualitative aspects of music. Their importance is evident, but limited, because after them there will be someone who will look for and find the eighth tone; but will he be able to make a true work of art with it?
“I admire Schoenberg and those who follow him, but I recognize that the chromatic scale upon which they base their compositions exists only scientifically, and, therefore, the dialectics derived from it are artificial.”
Finally, Stravinsky talks about his works, particularly his last, the Concerto for Two Pianos, which he just performed with his son in Italy, to great success. And he tells us news of his upcoming trip to South America, where he will remain until June, and where the second volume of his work Chroniques de ma vie, translated into Spanish by Victoria Ocampo, is about to be released.81
Before saying good-bye, he offers high praise for the works of our Falla, with whom he is united by the same yearning for religiosity, despite their difference in religious dogma. He speaks particularly about El Retablo de Maese Pedro and the Concerto,82 works in which, according to him, Falla comes close to the great Spanish counterpointists. Falla’s music is now essentially Catholic, he asserts. Stravinsky also talks about Gustavo Pittaluga, who admirably conducted his “Concerto” in Madrid, with his son Soulima performing the solo part. He shows a vivid interest in this young composer, and for all the composers of the new Spanish school.83 He also has words of praise for the pictorial talent of
Salvador Dalí, whom he met in the train during his trip to Barcelona.
La Nación (Buenos Aires), 25 April 1936
Igor Stravinsky Talks About the Future Directions of His Music and His Art
We find Igor Stravinsky onboard the Cap Arcona, surrounded by friends and photographers, who offer him a warm Argentine greeting.84 The director of the Teatro Colón, Mr. Athos Palma, introduces us, and the great composer, cordial and kind, with the simplicity of a true artist, immediately recounts his excellent impressions of the voyage in flawless French, with a slight Slavic accent. “This is a trip I have been wanting to make for a long time,” he tells us. “But an artist’s career cannot always be coordinated with his personal desires. I meant to come here on numerous occasions. My work, at times, and other commitments too, kept those desires as mere plans. This time, the directorship of the Colón was able to iron out all the difficulties, and when Mr. Athos Palma recently met me in Paris, all the details were resolved, and here I am, ready to present some of my compositions to that theater’s audiences.85 I know of their sensitivity and intelligence in appreciating great musical works, and I have heard tell of the significance of the artistic movement in Buenos Aires on more than one occasion. In terms of myself, I have exact news about how my work has been received. My friend Ernest Ansermet has contributed, in great part, to that.”86
The Future Direction of Music
Asked afterward about the future direction of music, he tells us: “It is very difficult to judge things that are constantly happening in front of our eyes and developing around us; we must have the necessary perspective of time in order to reach consequent conclusions and be able to judge. In my case, for example, I do what was done before, but in another way, and that is what makes it novel and contemporary. The problems may always be the same; the problem of creation, above all, is simply a question of finding the relationships that interest or suit each individual creator. It has been said that in the works I produce, I proceed in leaps, that my audience is disoriented because it cannot find what it expected in any one of them. The truth is nothing like that; I enlarge the borders of a starting point that I consider my point of departure, and the rotational movement produced around it is perfectly logical within the curve of its line. As exactly logical, I could say, as the movement of a wheel around its axis. The difference is that my ‘tempo’ is not the ‘tempo’ of those who use time to sleep through life… The movement of my work is fast. Many of my admirers are still stuck in Petrushka, they remain in the same place; whereas I enlarge my radius of action, and they don’t follow me. Hence the frequent misunderstandings, which can generally be attributed to incomprehension or lack of preparation to fathom the meaning of my new ideas.”
Stravinsky and His World Page 27