I'm slowly gathering some of the music I've been creating over the past year on a soundcloud page that can be found
here. Updates will hopefully be frequent over the next several months as I piece together a premiere solo record. I'm also sitting on two near-complete duo releases with
Jean-Paul Garnier (aka loopool) and
Myles Emmons. Samples of those two full lengths will likely be showing up on my soundcloud page in the next few weeks or so.
Below is a paper I completed in December dealing with the reactionary intentions of Stravinsky and Offenbach's musical interpretations of the Orpheus myth. Hope you enjoy.
Orpheus and the Times: Reactionary Interpretations to Myth and Heroism
With its famed chronicle and legendary proportions, the tale of Orpheus maintains a place
of prominence amongst artists, historians and the receiving public alike. Having taken
interpretive leaps in the varying iterations of its characters and narrative, the antiquated roots of
one of time’s most tested tales, continue to inspire new meanings and stylistic scopes.
Remembered takes on Orpheus throughout history have primarily, as would be expected,
reflected both the thematic necessities of the ancient myth, in harmonious conjunction with the
stylistic concerns of the time and trend during which the specific pieces were created.
Monteverdi colors Orfeo’s madrigal music with trends from his seventeenth century Baroque and
Renaissance traditions1, just as Gluck sites the work of his contemporaries, Niccolo Jommelli
and Jean-Georges Noverre as primary inspiration for Orfeo ed Euridice2. However, there are
noteworthy versions of the Orpheus story that deviate from this recurring contemporaneous
stylizing. Instead of picking at the pulse of currency, Igor Stravinsky and Jacques Offenbach
frame their works as stylistic reactions, working with tools of tradition provided by the artistic
movements directly preceding their period of time and trend. Offenbach’s sacrilege and biting
humor in Orphee aux Enfers, offers a twisted take on characterizations from the Romantic
movement, which came to the loose ends of its reverent introductory period decades before the
1858 premiere. Stravinsky’s 1948 ballet in conjunction with choreographer George Balanchine
and production designer Isamu Noguchi, presents a similarly timed take on the precursive
Symbolist movement from the late nineteenth century. With motives permeating sound, designs
and narrative revisions, these two renditions of surviving ancient characters both recall their
stylistic predecessors in efforts geared toward critique and admiration.
Stravinsky, Balanchine and Noguchi’s only three part collaborative endeavor premiered
on April 28th, 1948 at City Center of Music and Drama in New York City. The intimacy and
artistic integrity with which Stravinsky and Balanchine created this one of many dual-minded
masterpieces, translated into a memorable work dictated by pristinely organized elements of
duration and design. With the two artists meeting frequently to negotiate their conceptual
intentions, Stravinsky and Balanchine were able to structure Orpheus according to a precise
framework of music and movement, in order to achieve an organization orchestrated with “stop-
watch exactitude” (Stravinsky and Balanchine: A Journey of Invention, Charles M. Joseph, p.
191). The pair was fascinated by the idea of engaging with the timelessness of the Orpheus
myth, while maintaining little stylistic congruency to its roots in ancient Greece. As they had
previously attempted in 1928’s Apollo, the duo’s concern was more with re-contextualization
than accuracy in presenting a story centuries deep in its artistic evolution. To do justice to this
intention, they deferentially drew from a slightly backwards looking take on late nineteenth
century Symbolism. Maintaining thin lines of grounding to the ever-resonant story of romance
and heroism, the production uses representational props, musical motifs and stage devices to
move with a stunning style of subsequence, out of antiquity and into new, yet rooted meaning.
The choreographer and composer assured “that their concept of Orpheus was not simply a re-
creation of a Greek myth but rather the setting of a universal story” (Joseph, p. 191). Stravinsky
was firm on his intention of refraining from any “unessential ethnographic details for the sake of
a higher symphonic reality” (Joseph, p. 190). In doing so, the project relied on symbolic gestures
to maintain a contextualizing framework, and abstained from heavy handed literalism, in order to
present a backdrop merely tinged with association and defined by Symbolist gestures.
Stravinsky and Balanchine sought nineteenth century inspiration in their music and
choreography both respectively and as a collaborating duo. Orpheus’s legendary lyre is treated
as a stylistic centerpiece, while serving as an emblematic token tying modernity to antiquity3.
The appearance of the object in the original production speaks to this intention with its realistic
proportions and crafted authenticity. Rendered relatively true to the form of its ancient origins,
the prop startles with a Symbolist’s strike in its incongruence with the other parts and costumes
that make up the abstract setting. Other than its referentially grounding function, the lyre is
represented via an additional tier of Symbolist inspiration. Presented visually as a three stringed,
plucked instrument, the device is sonically portrayed by the harp, utilized in this case with a
concertante function4. With its characteristic sweeping sound and enormous range capacity, the
harp is far from indistinguishable from whatever sounds may have actually come for Orpheus’s
lyre. Instead of striving for such accuracy, the desire is for a more abstract relationship with
roots in Symbolist ideology. In yet another facet of inspired reaction, the musical material
performed by the lyre turned harp, embraces a modal framework similar to the considerations of
precursive Symbolist composers. Indebted to the pioneered shift from diatonic tonality to more
exotic modal material by Debussy and others5, the harp begins an opening descent via Phrygian
intervals, setting up a framework that moves frequently in and out of both Phrygian and Dorian
motives. The musical layering of the ballet is defined by a conversation among instruments that
does not function quite like typified counterpoint, but instead ventures with an evolutionary order
that elaborates on a level less blatant than average harmonic interactions. In this sense
Stravinsky captures what author Jean Moreas describes in his manifesto as an “évolution
cyclique avec des retours strictement déterminés et qui se compliquent des diverses
modifications apportées par la marche du temps et les bouleversements des milieux.”6 This idea
of accepting cyclical complexion and embracing complicating changes in pursuit of changing
times and environment, is the essential conceptual motive behind Stravinsky and Balanchine’s
contributions to Orpheus.
Even with the composer and choreographer’s elaborate conception process, the original
production of Orpheus would certainly not have been the spectacle that it became without the
contributions of Isamu Noguchi. Noguchi’s background was an impressive history of theatrical
and staged music collaborations with the likes of Merce Cunningham and John Cage7, as
inspired by a “mythic way of apprehending meaning” (Eric Walter White, Noguchi East and
West, p. 6). The Orpheus myth specifically excited the designer’s drive to mine for new
significance in age-old chronicles, seeking timeless ambiguities, shifted and crafted to fit a brand
new bill. Working in fusion with his Orpheus research was a deep knowledge of Japanese
mythology. He saw parallels to be drawn specifically between Orpheus and the tale of Izanagi
and Izanami, which tells of a similarly tragic husband seeking his wife in a violent inferno, only
to run away in disgust at the site of her burning body8. Though less endearing than the Orphic
romance, taking this exotic perspective into account fit well with the composer and
choreographer’s far-reaching creative outlook. Noguchi stated his hunger to “discover anew the
myth of Orpheus[...]not bound by any space but attached through the stones from which it is
born” (Ashton p. 6). This eloquent proposal excited Stravinsky and Balanchine with its shared
perspective in trying to maintaing a narrow stream of association with the roots of a tale, while
otherwise moving into symbolic realms to seek new understanding and interpretations. Being
aware of this universality yet conscious of the need to recast its origins, Noguchi was attempting
to illuminate a shared subconscious awareness of Orpheus as something inescapable and
permeating9. With these goals in mind, his contributions to the production further engrained the
Symbolist manifestation of sites and sounds delicately drawn to their source, yet deviating in
fascinated explorations.
Such deviation is embodied with a more critical eye and an ear for humorous referencing
in Offenbach’s savvy rendering of Orpee aux Enfers. With the composer’s famed stature and
pioneering significance in pursuing the new operetta form, Orphee aux Enfers was destined for
the success with which it was received10. Similar to the Stravinsky pursuit, Offenbach was also
fascinated by the idea of reshaping ancient tales (as would later play out in Robinson Crusoe, La
Belle Helene, and others) to better fit the trends and troubles of a modern audience. In doing so,
Orpheus became a new kind of spectacle for the late nineteenth century audience. Being met
with demise and disgust from Eurydice and others in his less than idealized surroundings, the
formerly flawless man of virtuosity and strength, becomes a Romantically rendered tragic anti-
hero. Reacting to the remnants of a revolutionary struggle for new cultural significance in
France, the composer illustrates his Orpheus with a light-hearted disregard for mannered
formalities, poking fun at the Romantic caricature celebrated during the period’s mid-century
peak decades before. The foolishly grim scene opens with a promiscuous Eurydice, sneaking
near the dwelling of her shepherd lover Aristeas, to the naivety of her husband. Though it is not
the wife alone who entertains adulterous pursuits (for Orpheus too has a woman on his mind
besides the torturous Eurydice), it is Orpheus who maintains the audience’s compassion, as
Eurydice torments him with shamelessly orated hate, proclaiming “Apprenez que je vous
déteste” (Hector Cremieux, Orphee aux Enfers libretto). Orpheus at times attempts to settle his
sour partner with words of begrudging compassion, though proves incapable of calming his
wife’s despise. To the shocking dismay of tradition, even Orpheus’s musicianship is unable to
strike an endearing chord with Eurydice. When he picks up his beloved violin, she cries out in
groans of brutal agitation, “Ah ! C’est horrible, Ah ! C’est terrible” (Cremieux). In curious
correlation to Stravinsky’s rendering of the lyre as central Symbolist artifact, Offenbach minds
the violin with a similarly stylized intention. Embodying the Romanic anti-hero, Orpheus is tied
to his music (as visually represented by the instrument specifically) with troublesome yet
endearing staunchness. This devotion acts as catalyst to his wife’s destructive disapproval, yet it
is a dedication that the audience is meant to see as admirable. Such conundrums find themselves
prevalent and defining in many of the most famous manifestations of French Romantic tragic
heroism. Victor Hugo’s renown tale of a Hunchback trapped in asylum rings oddly comparable
to this previously unseen Orpheus. The monstrosity of Notre Dame strikes fear and pity in the
eyes of its beholders, yet is charming in his compassion, and engaging with human emotion and
enchantment11. Offenbach’s referential rendering takes inspiration from the visual world of
Romanticism in France as well. Eugene Delocroix’s “Le Massacre de Scio” depicts a centralized
character crippled by weakness and the destruction of his surroundings. Yet this symbol of
tragedy and romance indeed maintains an admirable nature in his stern expression and composed
awareness. Such affinity with the human world is what Offenbach’s Orpheus attains, despite the
cruelty he has been dealt and the buffoonery subject to himself and his setting. Indeed, it is easy
to regard Orfee aux Enfers as an amateurish stab at past traditions, as it was and continues to be
accused of by critics from varying traditions of music literature. However, if analyzed without
baffled response to offbeat humor, there is an often disguised quality of Romantic humanism
inspired by Offenbach’s responses to times past in his nation, as the tragic anti-heroism of his
new take on Orpheus attests to.
Beyond this portrayal of the central character, Offenbach’s score itself speaks similarly to
an investment in Romantic music as grounds for gentle mockery and greater reactionary
inspiration. Notable stylistic impulses reflect an obvious investment in the spearheading
compositions by the early Strauss family, with jaunty dances in pure diatonicism. Being as
transparently indebted to Romantic pioneers of waltz and polka motives as this operetta is, the
music speaks to an intention of rekindling more than forward-thinking currency. The later
renown can-can theme originating in the “Gallop Infernal” section of the operetta for example,
works directly with the miniaturist sectionalism, excited pacing and gestural feverishness
exemplified in Johann Strauss Sr.’s “Radetzky March” and elsewhere in preceding nineteenth
century Romantic music. What puts Offenbach’s music in a realm of remake rather than
presence also has to do with the satirical nature of the project itself. The piece is not
unconsciously trapped in a bind to passed trends, nor does it blatantly align itself with such
predeceased traditions in a stubborn manner. Instead, Orphee aux Enfers works to rework
Romanticism in a way that presents fresh thematic material in a stylistically familiar context.
This ambition manifests in gestures as subtle as certain speeds and harmonic qualities, and as
flagrantly as directly resurfaced melodic lines (i.e. the nod to Gluck’s Orfeo ed Euridice in Act 1,
Scene 2). The piece is a product of its times in that it presents an audience-minded opportunity
to find edginess and undiscovered humor in a tale crafted over and over by artists throughout the
preceding centuries. However, much like Orpheus’s debt to Symbolism, Offenbach frames this
currency by rewinding to a characterized, musical adoption of trends passed.
To argue issues of context and currency as they related to events from the distant,
unwitnessed past, is a task inevitably complicated by troubles with subjectivity and environment.
Insisting on a work of art’s place in a time of its own or of its predecessors, immediately calls for
argumentative grounds from a historiographic community seeking flaw. However, the essential
realization is that these issues indeed permeate any pursuit of writing about the past, no matter
how meticulously researched. Recognizing these inescapable issues of time and place, seeing as
every historian “is of his own age, and bound to it by the conditions of human existence” (What
Is History?, E.H. Carr, p. 19), the pursuit aught not be one in search of objectivity, but instead a
process by which the researcher takes a sufficiently informing and ideally convincing stance, in
order to craft a topic fitting to the needs and satisfying to the qualms of his or her own
environment. Now is a time when information about millions of people, places and events
excavated from the far reaches of awareness, has been made available by means as simple as
moving fingers and eyeballs from the comfort of a desk chair. Rendition after rendition of the
Orpheus tale can be tried and tailored however much or little any browser may please. This, the
stimuli, exists effortlessly, and therefore demands no effort to present. There is no academic
admirability in a summary of events, even if this landslide of information has made things hard
to sort. Instead, the duty demands a shape shifting analysis, honing in on the obscurities of what
may or may not have existed in the minds of conceivers and audiences, based on what can be
seen and processed. To find meaning in Stravinsky and Offenbach as partners pursuing artistic
justice and participation in a saga of tale-telling, thousands of years in the making, these
renditions must make suggestions, but must also be met with an intention of ingenuity. As they
glow suggestively within this plethora of facts, figures and references telling all yet little about
experiences of these spectacles, these two works’ stylistic timelines seem to point to a shared
feature of resurfacing. Stravinsky and his beloved Symbolism, reach a consensus in Orpheus
that birthed a rendition tied to its precursive period in art, tied to its antiquated roots, yet thrilling
and far-reaching in contextualized ventures of abstraction and experiment. Orfee aux Enfers
holds its place in the same territory, sparking association to its predecessors of Romanticism,
with an honoring critique that truly lends a fascinating framework to a backwards-minded take
on Orpheus. Information does not make sense of itself, especially in categories where varying
interpretations are often exposed without parallels of sensibility. Drawing stabilizing
conclusions in pursuit of a more interconnected global experience of Orpheus throughout history,
brings Stravinsky and Offenbach’s renditions to a point of suggestive (even if in part arguable)
comparison. Such a pursuit is earnest in its curiosity-fueled intention of bringing unseen
possibilities of clarification and interest, to a realm and a time that beg with their size and access
for these efforts in elucidation.
Bibliography
1)Ashton, Dore. Noguchi East and West. New York: Knopf, 1992.
2)Carr, Edward Hallett. What is History?. New York: Vintage, 1961.
3)Cremieux, Hector. Orphee aux Enfers libretto.
4)"Debussy, Claude." Oxford Music Online. Grove Music, n.d. Web. 23 Nov. 2012.
5)Joseph, Charles M.. Stravinsky & Balanchine: A Journey of Invention. New Haven: Yale
University Press, 2002.
6)Moreas, Jean. "Manifeste Symbolisme." Le Figaro 18 Sept. 1886. Web. 27 Nov. 2012.
7)"Offenbach, Jacques." Oxford Music Online. Grove Music, n.d. Web. 24 Nov. 2012.
8)Offenbach, Jacques. Orphee aux Enfers score.
9)"Orphee aux enfers." Oxford Music Online. Grove Music, n.d. Web. 3 Dec. 2012.
10)"Opera Explained: GLUCK: Orfeo ed Euridice." naxos.com. Naxos Music Group, n.d. Web.
29 Nov. 2012.
11)"Opera Explained: MONTEVERDI - Orfeo." naxos.com. Naxos Music Group, n.d. Web. 29
Nov. 2012.
12)"Strauss, Johann II." Oxford Music Online. Grove Music, n.d. Web. 5 Dec. 2012.
Chait 10
13)Vogel, Malvina G., and Victor Hugo. The Hunchback of Notre Dame. New York: Baronet
Books, 1994.
14)White, Eric Walter. Stravinsky, the Composer and His Works. 2nd ed. Berkeley: University of
California Press, 1979.
