Fourteen miniatures for a piano

It might seem far-fetched to compare the music of Robert Schumann and Joonas Kokkonen, but there are some similarities, especially in the selections on this CD. To begin with, all these pieces share the characteristics of distinctive miniatures: in each, the music creates a unique soundscape within a short space of time and tells a specific story. Further, both Schumann and Kokkonen showed great sensitivity to the piano's potential, without drifting into superficial virtuosity or pianistic frippery. It takes a master musician like Magnus Svensson to express such subtleties. His convincing interpretation makes the step from Schumann to Kokkonen merely a question of differences in musical style.

The Poet speaks

"Der Dichter spricht" (The Poet Speaks) is the title of the last movement in Schumann's Kinderszenen, a collection of easy pieces for piano. Schumann is indeed the great poet of music. Given his upbringing as the son of a writer, publisher, and bookseller, it's no wonder that literature and the magic and power of language had a strong influence on him. In fact, in his time the eloquent Schumann was better known as a musicologist and writer than as a composer. He made important contributions to the new German music not only by establishing a musical journal that still exists, Neue Zeitschrift für Musik, but also by being a strong advocate for the young generation of musicians and composers. One of the talents he recognized very early was the nineteen-year-old Johannes Brahms.

Kreisleriana would not exist without the writings of the author, composer, artist (and many other things as well), E. T. A. Hoffmann. In his collection of essays of the same title, he tells the story of Johannes Kreisler, a passionate musician and artist. Schumann read these essays and was so captured and inspired that he wrote these eight fantasies for piano in just four intense days. The following excerpt amply demonstrates why the delicate and devotedly romantic Robert Schumann identified with the eccentric and wild Kapellmeister Kreisler:

Be that as it may, Johannes was tossed back and forth by his inner visions and dreams as though on an eternally stormy sea, and he seemed to seek in vain the haven that would finally give him the peace and tranquility without which an artist can create nothing. So it was that his friends could not bring him to write down a single composition, or to leave it intact if he actually did write it down. Sometimes he would compose by night in the most agitated frame of mind. He would awaken his friend who lived next door in order to play to him, in a state of utmost rapture, everything he had scribbled down with incredible speed. He would weep tears of joy over the composition he had produced. He would proclaim himself the happiest of men. And yet, by the following day, the great work had been consigned to the fire.... Singing had an almost fatal effect upon him, since his imagination became over-stimulated and his mind withdrew into a realm where nobody could follow without danger. On the other hand he was often content to play the piano for hours, elaborating the most curious themes with elegantly contrapuntal devices and imitations and highly ingenious passage-work. Whenever this had gone particularly well, he would be in jovial spirits for several days afterwards, and a sort of roguish irony would spice the conversation with which he delighted the small, intimate circle of his friends.

From "Kreisleriana," Part I in E.T.A. Hoffmann's Musical Writings, ed. David Charlton, trans. Martyn Clarke (Cambridge Univesity Press, 1989)

Early in his career, Schumann had high ambitions to become a piano virtuoso, so it's quite natural that this instrument holds a prominent position in his compositions. His way of writing for the piano was very personal and different from that of all other composers of his time. For instance, he repeats the same rhythmical pattern over and over during an entire movement, but with such lively imagination and variation that the listener hardly becomes aware of the recurrence, but instead perceives a kaleidoscope of voices hidden in the texture.

Kreisleriana comprises eight fantasy pieces of varying nature. The structure is completely unique, for it is neither sonata, suite, nocturne, variations on a theme, nor any other established form for piano music at that time. The piece is dedicated to the pianist and composer Frédéric Chopin, whose music Schumann greatly admired. At the age of twenty-one Schumann wrote an enthusiastic article on his colleague of the same age. One would think that Chopin would have been delighted by this generous gift, but, like many of their contemporaries, Chopin didn't understand Schumann's piano music. It was too new to him, both in form and in texture. He is even supposed to have said to the publisher Schlesinger that "Schumann's Carnaval is on the whole not music" (Carnaval being another of his piano pieces that offended convention). For us, living some 150 years later, such reactions might be difficult to understand, but they show us how radical and original Schumann's music was in his own time.

Arabeske. Being part of Arabian (Islamic) culture, with its reluctance to depict living beings, the Moors developed an elaborate decorative art in which stylized leaves, flowers, vines, and other elements were usually arranged in a symmetrical way. These artistic patterns are called arabesques. The term is also used to describe certain ornamental passages in music. But regardless where Schumann's delightful composition in C major finds expression - it is notably without any connection to literature or poetry.

Five important bagatelles.The Finnish composer Joonas Kokkonen was also a pianist. But unlike his German colleague, he wrote surprisingly few pieces for the piano. His most important work is the opera The Last Temptations, which may be regarded as Finland's national opera. It has received more than 250 performances-quite exceptional for an opera written in 1975-and it has even been performed at The Metropolitan Opera in New York. Kokkonen also wrote four symphonies, a requiem, and numerous other pieces.

Like many composers in the mid-twentieth century, Kokkonen experimented with several methods and styles of composition, but his most significant works, written from the late sixties until his death in 1996, are not related to any particular "school." This is particularly true of the Five Bagatelles. Despite its small size, this suite is considered Kokkonen's most important work for piano.

All five distinctive miniatures have Latin titles; the first two, Praembulum (Prelude) and Intermezzo (Interlude), are fairly unevocative, whereas the third and perhaps most interesting movement is called Aves (Birds). It lacks a proper theme, but its trills and quick figurations in the treble give the impression that Kokkonen has taken down the singing of birds, like the French composer Olivier Messiaen. But this is not a study in ornithology, it is a brilliant scherzo.

The two concluding movements also have names that fire the imagination. Not at all sentimental, Elegiaco (Elegy) possesses a touching, elevated dignity. Arbores (Trees), the last bagatelle, resembles a passacaglia, a form that has a grand theme repeated a number of times. Above this large theme are other, quicker melodies and gestures, perhaps like small branches and leaves growing from larger limbs on a tree. It forms a powerful ending to Kokkonen's small but important suite of bagatelles for piano.

Professor B.Tommy Andersson, 2006

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