John Thomas' Autumn

Early Autumn became Mid Autumn and, judging from the quantity of leaves on the tree outside the bedroom, we are now in Late Autumn. 

Cabris has turned quite cold and frosty this weekend. It’s been windy and wet but the mood around town is cheery. Thanksgiving has just passed, and it’s nice to be reflecting on our loves. John Thomas’ Autumn seems a little of the same: frosty, windy, reflective, thankful. 

As guessed, this piece is part of his series on the seasons. :-D

Definitely not summer. Definitely not spring. If anything, it’s intruding a little on winter. Like four brothers trying to share a year. This is Autumn wanting to be like his big brother Winter. 

3 movements. 

Prefaced with a poem:

I love the moaning music which I hear 

In the bleak gusts of Autumn, for the soul 

Seems gathering tidings from another sphere, 

And, in sublime, mysterious sympathy, 

Man’s bounding spirit ebbs and swells more high 

Accordant to the billow’s loftier roll

The melodies could be hymns, in my opinion. They have a spirit of gratefulness about them. 

John Thomas was Welsh and lived from 1826–1913. He was a harpist and a composer. His piece “The Minstrel’s Adieu” is one that not too many classical harpists get away with not playing at some point. Crazy to think, but Thomas actually began playing the harp on a Welsh triple harp-  an instrument with three rows of strings that sat on your LEFT shoulder (a thought that makes me batty!). 

The timing and location of John Thomas’ life is significant because he was born around the dawning of the double-action harp that we know today to be the Classical harp. This kind of instrument was first patented in London by Sébastien Érard (French guy) in 1810. Érard eventually moved his business back to Paris, where the instrument began to really boom in popularity- compositions for solo harp, touring harp virtuosi, a new place for the harp in the orchestra... 

But. It began in London, which is where Thomas eventually ended up. He was introduced to the double action harp and studied at Royal Academy of Music. In 1810, Thomas was 16. 

And check this! (Sorry, I’m a geek) Thomas later became the harp professor at his alma mater, and eventually toured Europe and crossed paths with Hector Berlioz. Hector Berlioz was a French composer and officially the first guy to use the double-action harp in an orchestra. Could it be that Thomas was the catalyst for harp in the orchestra?

Of Thomas, Berlioz said: 

"Voilà comment on joue de la harpe… Il m'a charmé, fasciné, magnetisé."  “Il fait rêver et pleurer; un vrai barde inspiré.” 

“Voila, this is how to play the harp... he charmed me, fascinated me, magnetized me.”  “He makes one dream and weep- truly an inspired bard.”

This inspired bard was a key figure to the classical harp world, which is so French oriented but technically birthed in the UK. 

All this to say (whew) that of all the Autumn works for harp presented in this blog so far, Thomas’s is:

1. 1.the earliest
2. 2.the only one from the UK
3. 3.the only one in 3 movements

Feuilles d’Automne by Alphonse Hasselmans

Hasselmans. The “Granddaddy of Harp.” 

His stats:

French (well, born in Belgium)

1845-1912

Composer for harp (50+ pieces), Harpist, Harp teacher

 Dad was a harpist (and his first teacher)

Mom dated Gabriel Faure at some point

 Studied under Gottlieb Krüger, Xavier Desargas, and Ange-Conrad Prumier (anyone ever heard of them? I hadn’t.)

Became the Head Harp Coach at the Paris Conservatories in his day.... he had many influential students who continued to shape the French harp world as he did (which is why I call him the granddaddy of harp): Henriette Renie, Marcel Tournier, Carlos Salzedo, Marcel Grandjany, Lily Laskin, and Pierre Jamet.

You can’t help but like the guy. His music sounds nice-sounding to non-harpists, and feels good to the fingertips of a harpist. His pieces are idiomatic and intuitive... writing in a way that totally suits the instrument and displays its capabilities in a friendly way. 

And, yes, as you may have guessed: he’s written on the subject of autumn.

Actually, three “easy improvisations” under the title “Feuilles D’Automne” (Autumne Leaves)...

Sérénade Mélancolique Op. 45 (Melancholy Serenade)

Crépuscule Op. 46 (Sunset)

Calme Op. 47 (Calm) 

They were each written for a different student of his, none of them of who made the earlier mentioned list of influential harpists. 

Gonna focus on only one of the three improvisations here, as it is my favorite: Sérénade Mélancolique. It’s just that: a sad song.

Kinda humorous: the dictionary on my computer defines serenade as “a piece of music sung or played in the open air, typically by a man at night under the window of his lover.” Combine that with dying leaves and inclement weather and you get “Sérénade Melancolique” by Alphonse Hasselmans. 

6/8 time, Adantino, g minor. 

I can visualize a man walking, talking to himself silently, singing, searching, schmoozing, reminiscing, feeling slightly empty. It’s a piece so simple yet so beautiful- first melody, second melody, interruption by a hefty autumn wind, recap of the first melody. Short and so sweet.

So, yes, Autumn can be sad and melancholy after all, according to Mr. Hasselmans. 

I find all three of these “improvisations” to be melancholy- very much the “sad” and reflective side of the autumn coin.

Otoño Porteño by Astor Piazzolla

The idea: there’s a series of something on the table and someone decides to create a piece that depicts the poetic character of that something, kind of like the imposed ingredient on an episode of Iron Chef. Parsnips. Go!

Years ago, there was a particular series of paintings at the Louvre that I remember hanging around for a while. It was “The Four Seasons” by the Italian painter Giuseppe Arcimboldo  (1527– 1593).

These puny pic pastings don’t do them a pinch of justice. But it’s the idea... a dude... with time and talent... thinking about the subjects “Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter” ...and creating something totally off the wall, as it were. Arcimboldo’s seasons are imaginative and beautiful.

It happens in music, too. Gustav Holst did the planets. Sufjan Stevens is working on to the United States.  Tchaikovsky did the months of the year. 

And then there are the composers that tackled the subject of the seasons, which ends me beating around the bush. 

Examples of composers who wrote a series on The Seasons are: 

Antonio Vivaldi 

John Cage

Darius Milhaud

Joseph Haydn

Astor Piazzola

John Thomas

Today’s focus: Astor Piazzolla

Otoño Porteño (translation: Buenos Aires Autumn) is a tango tune written not for solo harp but an ensemble of bandoneon, strings, electric guitar, and piano. Piazzolla (1921- 1992) was from Argentina, the “heart of tango” and this piece is among his 2500+ compositions for the genre of nuevo tango. Otoño Porteño was premiered in 1969. I guess Piazzolla’s Seasons weren’t conceived all at once,  but composed over the course of 6 years.

Luckily for the harp world, there is an Argentinean harpist who has transcribed a handful of Piazzolla’s works: Maria Luisa Rayan-Forero (b. 197???). I’ve seen and heard her live, but haven’t shaken her hand yet. In short: I’m a fan of hers. Her arrangement of Otoño Porteño is 1. difficult 2. doable 3. enjoyable. She took 6 chromatic instruments’ parts and concentrated them into one not-so-easily-chromatic instrument, keeping as much of the original color and mood as possible.  

Nuevo tango= a combo of  traditional Argentine tango, jazz, dissonance and extended harmony, and sometimes counterpoint. Melody is pointy. Rhythms are percussive and uncommon among the harp’s “normal” repertoire: end the the phrase with an accent?! Crazy crazy. 

I lived in Nice for a month, 6 years ago. It was just after I had arrived in France to study music, and I remember going home to the dorm one night very late. I had to cross Vieux Nice and a plaza that I don’t remember the name of, and as I came up the steps, there was a pack of dancers “getting down” to a loud boom box blasting tango music. I stopped, in awe. It was so beautiful- to watch how each couple interacted, the way the music altered their motion, the nice little ring they all made as each couple moved in the same direction, counterclockwise. It had to have been after midnight, and this tango club was enjoying their monthly get-together under the stars, and a very light rain.

This incident stuck with me. I try to picture these little dancers when I attack the Otoño Porteño. The good and bad news is that there are many, many pedal changes in this arrangement (there’s no way around it), and the harpist’s feet are so active, moving the pedals in rhythm with the music. Every gesture and effect are intentional, just as the dancers’ motion is intentional and timed. It’s like the harpist is dancing and playing at the same time. It’s fantastic! But tricky.

To be honest, I don’t see how Otoño Porteño reflects the poetic nature of autumn. :-D I don’t see red leaves and harvest, but seduction and tension. And French tango dancers in the rain. Nonetheless, I’m glad this arrangement is on my music stand. Thank you, Astor, Maria Luisa, and the Nice Tango Club!

Two Tunes

‘Tis Autumn with Cy Todd, concert in Biot chez Terry, October 24, 2010

Two tunes here. Both written in the 40’s. Both inspired by autumn. Each in a totally different mood (heartbreaking vs. cheerful). Both lovable. Both lovely on the harp.

Les Feuilles Mortes/ Autumn Leaves

French lyrics by Jacques Prévert, English lyrics by Johnny Mercer, Music by Joseph Kosma

1945

The falling leaves drift by the window 

The autumn leaves of red and gold 

I see your lips, the summer kisses 

The sun-burned hands I used to hold 

Since you went away the days grow long 

And soon I'll hear old winter's song 

But I miss you most of all my darling 

When autumn leaves start to fall 

Oh! je voudrais tant que tu te souviennes

Des jours heureux où nous étions amis

En ce temps-là la vie était plus belle,

Et le soleil plus brûlant qu'aujourd'hui

Les feuilles mortes se ramassent à la pelle

Tu vois, je n'ai pas oublié...

Les feuilles mortes se ramassent à la pelle,

Les souvenirs et les regrets aussi

Et le vent du nord les emporte

Dans la nuit froide de l'oubli.

Tu vois, je n'ai pas oublié

La chanson que tu me chantais.

C'est une chanson qui nous ressemble

Toi, tu m'aimais et je t'aimais

Et nous vivions tous deux ensemble

Toi qui m'aimais, moi qui t'aimais

Mais la vie sépare ceux qui s'aiment

Tout doucement, sans faire de bruit

Et la mer efface sur le sable

Les pas des amants désunis.

Les feuilles mortes se ramassent à la pelle,

Les souvenirs et les regrets aussi

Mais mon amour silencieux et fidèle

Sourit toujours et remercie la vie

Je t'aimais tant, tu étais si jolie,

Comment veux-tu que je t'oublie?

En ce temps-là, la vie était plus belle

Et le soleil plus brûlant qu'aujourd'hui

Tu étais ma plus douce amie

Mais je n'ai que faire des regrets

Et la chanson que tu chantais

Toujours, toujours je l'entendrai!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

‘Tis Autumn by Henry Nemo

1941

Old Father time checked, so there'd be no doubt;

Called on the North wind to come on out,

Then cupped his hands so proudly to shout,

"La-di-dah di-dah-di-dum, 'tis autumn!"

Trees say they're tired, they've born too much fruit;

Charmed on the wayside, there's no dispute.

Now shedding leaves, they don't give a hoot -

La-di-dah di-dah-di-dum, 'tis autumn!

Then the birds got together to chirp about the weather

Mmmm-mmm-mmm-mmm.

After makin' their decision, in birdie-like precision,

Turned about, and made a beeline to the south.

My holding you close really is no crime -

Ask the birds and the trees and old Father Time.

It's just to help the mercury climb.

La-di-dah di-dah-di-dum, 'tis autumn.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

This past weekend, my friend Terry hosted me in concert at her lovely home. It was so nice to try out some of these pieces I’ve been working on. Terry and another friend, Cy, sang Les Feuilles Mortes and ‘Tis Autumn. Several people shared poetry about Autumn. 

Most of the guests were native English-speakers from various parts of the planet. All of them had a different regard for Autumn... sad, colorful, cheery, or depressing, etc. That’s what I’m finding for each of the Autumn pieces- Autumn to one composer means something very different to another. Which makes this project interesting.... 

To Mr./Mrs. Composer: What does Autumn sound like to you? How would you express Autumn through the medium of music? 

...it’s a scientific-like research and dissection. But for fun, and definitely not sterile- I get to dirty my hands in my own interpretation of each composition.

It’s a coordination of:

Art = “The expression or application of human skill and imagination, producing works to be appreciated primarily for their beauty or emotional power.”

Autumn = “The third season of the year, when crops and fruits are gathered and leaves fall, in the Northern Hemisphere from September to November and in the Southern Hemisphere from March to May.”

Therefore, my confirmed hypothesis at this juncture is: um.

Ce Que Chante la Pluie D’Automne in Front of the Prefecture

Voila, my little Carte de Sejour

The good news: I came out victorious at the Prefecture: I now have my carte de sejour (visa). Hallelujah! 

More good news: I was given another opportunity to ponder Ce Que Chante La Pluie D’Automne the other morning (see previous post). This time, it was before sunrise, in line with several others as we waited for the Prefecture to open its doors. 

Mention “Prefecture” to any American in France (actually, any French person for that matter) and they will shake their head or roll their eyes. The Prefecture. They will then proceed with their latest episode or favorite story about this institution. It’s among the list of “things I like about France the least” for most foreigners, including me, which is a pity... the Prefecture is the face of France. 

It’s a typical example of French administration. Logic is totally overlooked. 

And I guess I’ve reached a new level in French proficiency... I yelled at a stranger in French. It was one of the ladies behind the glass in Accueil 3; she wouldn’t listen to my question. She was continuing on with her raised eyebrows and puckered lips as she was going through her normal spiel about how it wouldn’t be possible to process my papers, and I exploded. I felt better afterward, but I lost my privilege to receive a number, wait in line more, and see someone who actually processes the visas. 

So I was back the next morning, which was drier and less unpleasant. And the most important thing: I’m now legit in France and can work like the rest of them. Work where? Not sure yet.

Ce Que Chante la Pluie D’Automne by Marcel Tournier

Next up on Autumn’s Greatest Hits for the Harp....

Ce Que Chante la Pluie D’Automne, Lied Op. 49 by Marcel Tournier (1879-1951)

Published in 1947, written for Thérèse Hansen, who was the harp professor at the Conservatory in Reims at the time. (All I know so far about Thérèse Hansen is that she was still teaching in Reims in the 60s. Her sister Renée married Pierre Jamet. Still searching for info on her...)

I have never heard this piece performed, and have found only one recording... Jutta Zoff on the albums “Pure Joy” and “Harp: Greatest Works.”

A raw translation comes out to be: “What the autumn rain sings” (thanks to my personal French explainer next to me on the couch). Not too be confused with “Those that sing in the autumn rain” or “Those that sing the autumn rain.” 

No. It’s the song of the autumn rain.

Interesting. 

Things I hear within this piece:

Steady rhythm of single drops of rain 

Sheets of rain 

Lightening

Thunder

Lulls

Gusts

The depth of a wet storm-- rain drops at arm’s length and the echo of thunder in the distance

I’ve been working on this piece for months now, and it seemed like a bucket of odd notes up until last week when I was able to finally play the piece at tempo. Quarter note= 100. Anything less doesn’t make sense. “Ohhh.” 

For my birthday this year, I got a fishing pole and gear. And thanks to a friend’s invitation to stay in a “cabin” near Castellane, Francois and I (and Cash of course) ventured up last weekend fully equipped with a skillet and lemons. It was so beautiful up there- crisp air, mushrooms galore, the smell of smoking chimneys, red, orange, yellow, green leaves, cloudy skies. Great fishing environment. 

On the second day, the clouds turned to rain, which stunk for fishing (COLD, miserable) but great for thinking about Ce Que Chante la Pluie D’Automne. Music can convey a message, a feeling, a  story, or a thing. In this case, in my opinion, it conveys a thing. Like an artist and his still life painting of fruit. You step back and say- THAT is FRUIT. Indeed. Beautiful. 

Same here. THAT is AUTUMN RAIN. Indeed. Nothing evocative. I can step back and admire its raw beauty.

Marcel Lucien Tournier was a Paris-based harpist, composer, and teacher... the student of Alphonse Hasselmans and mentor to many significant French harpists. His compositions were directed mainly towards solo harp, and his life fell smack dab in the middle of the impressionist movement that was happening in Classical music in Europe. Apart from a handful of pieces that weren’t give title of a specific image or scene, his music is just that -- images and scenes.

One last note: I know weird stuff can happen with opus numbers, and I may be over speculating here, but I can’t find a Tournier Op. number greater than this one- 49... could this be the last piece that he wrote? Inspired during the “Autumn” of his life, perhaps? Interesting interesting interesting.

L’Automne by Isaac Albéniz

Alright! Let’s get this going- blog number one on the subject of Autumn pieces written or transcribed for the harp...

This piece was among my least favorite considerations to learn, and sure enough: it’s turned out to be one of my current favorites:

“L’Automne Op. 201” by Isaac Albéniz (1860-1909) 

from Extrait De Album of Miniatures (Les Saisons) 

Written for piano in 1893 

Transcribed by Henriette Renié (1875-1956)

This piece is rarely performed or recorded, even on piano. There is another more popular work by Albéniz entitled “L’Automne- Valse.” Not to be confused- the “Valse” is lengthy and sweet. The one I’m living with is short and to the point- a real “miniature.” 31 short measures.

31 measures and 71 pedal changes. Oooh. It’s like playing Tetris- The puzzle-pieces (notes and pedals) are moving quickly towards you, and you have to place them “just so” before the pieces start to stack up all over the place and cause disaster. It’s an addictive game, I must say.

I’m enjoying my time with this piece because it evokes the busyness of Autumn rather than focusing on its sadness. I hear the movement of the air that stirs the trees and the leaves, the movement of people with their harvest, and the movement of animals as they prepare for winter. This movement is still melancholy, but there’s an excitement and purpose to it. 

Why all the pedal changes? It’s heavily chromatic- almost as if the leaves fall to the ground one half-step at a time.

I have been listening to a couple recordings of this piece on piano. Renié has taken a lot of liberty in adding spurts of pres de la table and harmonics. The result: even more dimension and color. 

Albéniz wrote L’Automne in London, from what I can read online. I wonder what he was inspired by as he wrote this. I wonder if he lived in a flat in the center of the city, or in the suburbs where the trees in his garden were shedding their leaves. I wonder if he composed next to a window. I wonder if the window was open. 

Then I wonder why Renié chose to transcribe it. So many chromatic challenges and pedal changes- it’s typical of her work. She seems to be slightly masochistic in this regard. 

Whatever the situation- I’m thankful for this transcription. It demonstrates the harps broad capabilities and textures and makes me smile. 

Ending with a petite haiku by Tiyler Durden...

Autumn Leaf

Leaf floats on the breeze

floating on the autumn wind

will you settle down?