Igor Stravinsky (1882-1971) composed his Ode between 19 May and 25 June of 1943. This three-movement orchestral work was commissioned by conductor Serge Koussevitzky as a memorial for his wife, Natalie (the Koussevitzkys’ firm published much of Stravinsky’s music). The first performance of the work was conducted by Koussevitzky in Boston on 8 October of the same year. The movements are titled Eulogy (Lento), Eclogue (Con moto), and Epitaph (Lento).
The Ode has been called one of Stravinsky’s “most quiet-tempered [works], almost as if muffled” (Griffiths 133), an impression which is probably due in part to the relatively small orchestra for which it is scored and its correspondingly limited dynamic range (the timpani is the only percussion). It is easy to detect several neo-classical tendencies in the Ode beyond this restraint in dynamics and in the size of the orchestral forces. The three-movement form and the clear texture, as well as the modest scoring, embody the classical objectives of contrast and clarity. Stravinsky moved to Paris in 1920, where he was influenced by the French antagonism toward contemporary German music; the composer himself said that both his focus on clarity and his “fanaticism for precision [were] waked through France” (Morgan 168).
After the composition of several large ballet scores in the 1910s, Stravinsky began to move toward “a leaner and more economical compositional language that eschewed the large proportions and extended instrumental forces of his three great prewar ballets” (Morgan 168). Indeed, the Ode is small in form; the opening Lento is only thirty-six measures in length and the third only sixty-two. I was surprised (especially in the wake of having listened to Le Sacre du Printemps) by the simplicity and modest size of this work; the work as a whole in performance is less than ten minutes in duration.
One regularly notices the effects of texture while listening to this work. Often, Stravinsky will use only five or six of the available instruments at any one time, creating a sparse and very open texture. It is rare that most of the instruments are playing; indeed, I don’t know that there is a time when all the instruments in the orchestra are playing at once. The result is almost endless possibilities for timbral and textural changes because of all the different combinations of five or six instruments that are available. The Eulogy begins with three horns and two trumpets, who dialogue with the low strings; the Eclogue begins with a horn trio and ends with only timpani and cello; and the Epitaph begins with two flutes and a clarinet and ends with only three flutes playing. Small groups of instruments in dialogue create, at times, an intimate, chamber music feel.
The neo-classical aspects of the work are summed up well by Vlad when he writes that “the underlying spirit of the Elegy and Ode, no less than the actual titles and subtitles of the pieces, heralds a new trend in Stravinsky towards subjects dear to classical antiquity” (Vlad 131). The composer himself called his Ode a “simple triadic piece,” though I have trouble seeing the harmony as simply triadic (Stravinsky 228)! While I don’t believe that this piece can be given justice by viewing it only as neo-classical (for it is certainly not neo-classical in its rhythms or harmonies), I believe that this is an important aspect of the work, and it must be true that “very few can have guessed that [Stravinsky’s] next step would be to retreat from neo-classicism” (Oliver 172).
A eulogy, in literary terms, is an expression of praise for one who has died. The instruments in use in this movement are the strings (with violins one and two), two trombones, four horns, two Bb clarinets, two bassoons, two trumpets, and one flute. Although the only instruments missing are two flutes, piccolo, and timpani, the scoring here seems exceptionally sparse and clear. Morgan notes that in compositions of Stravinsky’s middle period, such as the Ode, “one feels an emphasis on limits rather than excesses, on matters of formal construction and balance rather than personal expression” (Morgan 173). Again, such traits as clarity of form and relative personal detachment display the essentially neo-classical nature of the work.
After the “solemn, chromatic opening” (Routh 99), this movement sounds somewhat dance-like in its swaying quality, a quality initially created, I think, by the smooth string movement and the punctuating brass and wind sixteenth notes beginning at measure seven. The combination of one slower-moving melodic part and one rhythmic accompanimental part continues almost to the end of the movement, with brief breaks in measures 21 to 22 and 29 to 33. The instrumental families are not fixed in these roles, however; at measure 23, suddenly it is the violins and violas that punctuate and the winds and brass that play the melody.
This is the only movement of the three to remain in one time signature (4/4) for its entire duration, giving it a sense of relative rhythmic stability (and thus the possibility for the dance-like character). I must admit I did not realize that the strings’ initial slow melody is treated loosely fugally throughout the movement; perhaps this is due to the fact that each time it appears, the subject’s “note lengths are altered and its rhythmic shape varied” (White 377). This contrapuntal aspect is more evident in the short passages where the sixteenth note accompaniment is missing, such as the two noted above.
This movement makes use of incredibly non-traditional harmony, and thus contains a strange but successful mixture of classicism and romanticism. On this point, Morgan writes that “Stravinsky’s ‘return to the past’ was not actually tied to any given stylistic period, and eventually encompassed virtually every period of Western music” (173). (In other words, the term ‘neo-classicism’ can be somewhat misleading as it relates to Stravinsky’s music and the neo-classical movement as a whole.) After the Eulogy’s six-measure introduction, which is fairly tonally ambiguous, the low strings and two horns accompany a beautiful singing melody in the viola, all very clearly based in A-flat major (despite the new key signature of three flats). This complete stability does not last long; in the middle of the next measure, a dominant seventh chord on C which we expect to lead to the relative F minor swings instead into several measures of very chromatic harmony that is closer to late German romanticism than any sort of classicism (old or new) I can imagine. However, throughout the movement there are brief sections that, like this one, contain some unexpectedly traditional harmonies.
Harmonically, it is not that the resolutions in this piece generally belong to traditional tonality; rather, these resolutions sound as if they are right on the edge of providing what is expected, and yet they slide slightly in the other direction at the last moment. Just as this section sounds romantic harmonically, the viola’s melody here at the opening is romantic in its passion and songfulness; I see nothing here of the modular melodic writing so characteristic of Le Sacre du Printemps and other large works by Stravinsky. Another example of such a long, ben cantando (as marked in both instances) melody can be found in the string quartet “solo” in measures 29 to 33 of this movement. Tonally speaking, the ending to me is wholly unexpected, finishing as it does in a conclusive G major that has not been hinted at in the least earlier in the movement.
The middle movement is called Eclogue, a title which distinguishes it from the two outer movements in its relative lightheartedness; a literary eclogue is a classical poem dealing with pastoral subjects and rural life. Vlad writes that “in the Eclogue the expression of grief is tempered by a lyrical feeling of nature” (131) – and though I am not certain how he arrived at this conclusion (he does not elaborate), I would agree. The horn calls that begin the movement (and that recur throughout) and the fleeting string phrases that follow do evoke an outdoor, perhaps a country setting. This movement was originally written for a film; Stravinsky had been invited to compose incidental music for a film version of Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre. When this fell through, he later used the Eclogue, which he had composed for a hunting scene (hence the horn calls), as the middle movement of the Ode.
This Eclogue is also a relatively short movement, though its one hundred and twenty energetic Con moto measures make up the longest movement (measure-wise) of the piece. The prominent use of winds and the shifting rhythms in this movement are reminiscent of Le Sacre du Printemps, as is the low rumbling ending; but as befits its title, the Eclogue is lighthearted and merry almost throughout. This movement provides the contrast that lends the Ode’s form its classicism. As far as the “backwards” structure of placing one fast movement between two slower ones, Routh speculates that this “reversal of the normal procedure was dictated by the in memoriam nature of the work” (99).
Harmonically, this movement is much more static than is the chromatic Eulogy. It is also much more readily analyzed. The movement is in three large tonal sections: B-flat major, G major, and B-flat major. In this respect (a tonic, a departure, and a return to the tonic), the general harmonic structure is the closest to classical as any of these three movements; and indeed, even the form itself is sonata-like, with a recapitulation of the opening material after the G major section. In this movement, there is a great deal of dwelling on a single chord or tonality and embellishing it slightly melodically or rhythmically, and in this respect it again brings Le Sacre to mind. For example, measures 52 (where the key signature changes from B-flat to G) to 74 consist, at the simplest level of analysis, almost entirely of a G major chord with various additions. In essence, the only parts of the movement that are tonally quite unstable are the transitions between the three large sections.
Stravinsky’s “characteristic bitonality” is very present in the Ode (Routh 99). For example, in the closing Epitaph, C major and F minor are often both present. In one instance, the first division of violas plays thirds in C major while the second division outlines an F minor triad. This is echoed two measures later by the oboes and a clarinet. This same pattern is repeated in various places in the movement, such as in the sixth to last measure of the piece.
There are also several instances of a major-minor clash, where a chord appears consisting of a root, a fifth, and both major and minor thirds above the root. One such instance is found on the downbeat of the ninth measure of this final movement; the low strings hold the root A, but the winds and second violins disagree with the violas’ C-sharp by playing a C-natural on the same beat. It is interesting how deeply one feels the emotional pull of major against minor here – is this arrival triumphant or resigned? (I find the C-natural slightly more convincing and influential because of its register and its placement in a moving melodic phrase rather than in the accompaniment.)
This movement is metrically flexible and sometimes rhythmically ambiguous. This is due in part to the fluctuation between a 3/4 and a 6/8 feel. There is also one section of the movement during which the time signature changes numerous times in quick succession: 2/8, 3/8, 4/8, 5/8, 6/8 and 3/4 all feature here. In addition, the flutes begin by insisting on triplets in 3/4 time, but they do not hold their ground for long, and by the end they are playing eighth notes in 6/8 like everyone else. However, due to the eight-note pattern they play here, the meter sounds more like 2/4 to finish the movement.
It sounded to my ear as if the flute parts at the opening of this movement were built up by small melodic cells, due in part to their constant return to the pitch class A. Upon examining them I found that indeed, they can both be said to be both created out of small (two- and three-note) overlapping cells. The first flute’s line can be analyzed as follows:
a’’ to c’’’ = 1 c’’’ to a’’ = 1A g’’’ to a’’’ = 2 f#’’’ to a’’ = 3 g’’’ to c’’’ to a’’’ = 4
And the second flute’s line thus:
a’ to g’’ = 1 c’’ to a’ = 2 f#’’ to g’’ = 3 a’ to a’’ = 4 g’’ to c’’ = 5 g’’ to a’ = 6
After the other winds answer this phrase briefly, the flutes reiterate a section of their first phrase, from the last eighth note of the second triplet to the end of the fifth triplet. When this motive returns again in the flutes to close the movement and the piece, the first flute twice repeats an eight-note module built from these initial cells (a-c-a-g-a-f#-a-g). The second flute does the same (a-f#-g-c-a-a-g-c). These two modules are not only created from the original cells, but come directly from the two flute parts in the first full measure of the movement (leaving off the final note from this measure, as what were once triplets are no longer so).
This short closing movement, without exception, never rises above mezzo-piano; the markings are exclusively mezzo-piano, piano, and pianissimo. The piccolo’s piano ma espressivo marking in measure eight seems to summarize the soft and contemplative, yet not remorseful, character of this short movement. (Tierney describes it as “melancholy but dignified,” 235.) Strangely, this quiet movement uses the most instruments and has the most separate instrumental lines; the third flute appears nowhere else in the piece, nor does the piccolo, and the violins and violas are often divisi (in two or three parts). It is an Epitaph indeed in both its brevity and conciseness and in its reflective quality and inner seriousness.
Griffiths, Paul. Stravinsky. London: J.M. Dent and Sons Ltd., 1992.
Morgan, Robert P. Twentieth-Century Music. New York: W.W. Norton & Company, Inc., 1991.
Oliver, Michael. Igor Stravinsky. London: Phaidon Press Ltd., 1995.
Routh, Francis. Stravinsky. London: J.M. Dent and Sons Ltd., 1975.
Stravinsky, Igor. Themes and Conclusions. London: Faber and Faber Ltd., 1972.
Tierney, Neil. The Unknown Country: A Life of Igor Stravinsky. London: Robert Hale Ltd., 1977.
Vlad, Roman. Stravinsky. Trans. Frederick and Ann Fuller. London: Oxford University Press, 1967.
White, Eric Walter. Stravinsky: The Composer and his Works. Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1966.
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Stravinsky: Ode (And Other Works) |
| Ode. Triptych Orchestra Study Score. By Igor Stravinsky. This edition: ED5942. Schott. Study Score. 32 pages. Published by Schott Music. (49005924) See more info… |
December 14th, 2009 at 12:05 PM
Allie, the article on Ode you left out is in Louis Andriessen’s book ‘The Apollonian Clockwork”. Short, but good.
Best, Christopher