From Sorabji to Stiegl

Monday night I heard an extraordinary concert by the British pianist Jonathan Powell. The Joseph Marx Society sponsored the event, and several delightful short pieces of Marx were featured, plus poetic and fiery works by some of his students. For years, I've been enjoying Powell's recordings of one of my favorite composers, Kaikhosru Shapurji Sorabji. Many of you have probably never heard of him, so I will provide a brief introduction.

Sorabji (1892-1988) was a composer, pianist, and music critic who spent most of his life in a small town in England. Half-Indian and half-English, he readily drew inspiration from Asian and European culture - poetry, painting, rug-weaving, literature, religion, cuisine, and music. And yet his music exists in its own world, so distant from all stylistic trends of the 20th century. He is notorious for writing fantastically difficult piano solos that last four hours or more, thereby making tremendous demands on performers and listeners alike. But the mammoth Opus Clavicembalisticum has been performed in full about a dozen times, by five different performers, while many of his other multi-hour works have been heard in recent years.

You can hear for yourself here. I would recommend scrolling down and clicking on "II. Preludio Corale" to start. (On the screen that pops up, click the "Free" button, wait a minute, then enter the code shown and click the "Download via..." button.)

Apart from the longer pieces, Sorabji wrote a great number of shorter piano works (ranging from 10 seconds to 30 minutes in duration), plus some quite approachable chamber music and songs. (I have performed his Pastiche on the Hindu Merchant's Song, an exquisitely beautiful short piece.) With the slew of world-premiere performances, recordings, and published editions in the last two decades, Sorabji's music is undergoing quite a resurgence.

And most importantly - the music itself is so powerful. The languorous nocturnes will intoxicate you with their sweet perfume, while the tumultuous variations and toccatas will tear your insides out. Like with Messiaen, the longer pieces have the effect of suspending time, of taking us away from the busy pace of our lives and into a realm where art and spirituality, the intensity of the moment and the timelessness of memory, can freely combine.

At the concert this week, Jonathan Powell played Sorabji's transcription of the final scene from Richard Strauss's opera Salome. This is quite a dense piece - the pianist basically plays the vocal lines, all of the orchestral parts, plus several extra layers of Sorabji's own pianistic arpeggios and cascading chords, simultaneously. Powell handled it with great finesse, managing to bring the requisite clarity for the vocal lines to shine through all the madness, and delivering enormous power to the climaxes. In a word - devastating. This was the first Sorabji I've heard live, and it was truly an unforgettable experience.

I introduced myself to Mr. Powell afterwards and he invited me to join him and a few of his friends for a drink. So we went out and had a marvelous time, sharing stories about our favorite musicians, discussing what composition lessons are like, and developing ideas for future concerts. And of course - drinking fine Austrian beer. Sorabji would have been quite pleased. (A connoisseur in so many regards, he once wrote an essay about the qualities of good ale.)