Orchestra Works
Iannis Xenakis – Toshi Ichiyanagi – Yoichi Sugiyama
Iannis Xenakis (1922–2001)
Jonchaies (1977)
A decisive direction in the development of musical art in the second half of the 20th century was the shift from mere “enjoyment” to the search for completely new, previously unimagined forms of expression. In this respect, the career of Iannis Xenakis is exemplary for artistic innovation in the 20th century. Iannis Xenakis' music was created by applying mathematical and stochastic principles to the creation, dissolution, distribution, and density of sounds. Although the term “mathematical” may suggest something cold and inhuman, the attempt to shape large-scale phenomena—such as the contours of clouds or flocks of birds—inevitably requires a stochastic way of thinking. As a trained architect, Xenakis embraced this method without hesitation and explored its possibilities to the very end.
Jonchaies, composed for 109 instruments and premiered in 1977, could be considered a counterpart to the electronic piece La Légende d’Eer, which was conceived around the same time. Although the two pieces differ greatly in their tonal effect, Xenakis insisted that they were based on the same mathematical concept. The core element of Jonchaies is a spatialized, non-octave-based scale based on the so-called seventh theory, reminiscent of the Javanese pelog scale (e–f–g–h–c). This scale is expanded and transformed throughout the piece, creating a striking and haunting sound world. The work begins with a stormy string glissando, repeatedly interrupted by a shrill high-pitched tone reminiscent of the tense atmosphere of Hitchcock's Psycho. Shortly afterwards, the timpani sounds and a sparse melody based on the Pelog scale emerges. This introduction is certainly one of the most impressive openings in Xenakis’ oeuvre. The winding and meandering of the eighteen-part strings creates an expression that strangely evokes a certain nostalgia. However, as Xenakis himself noted: “This piece begins noisily, then periodic elements are inserted by means of stochastic functions” – the rhythmic structures gradually shift, with the pulse accentuated by the percussion. A long crescendo gradually builds to an almost frenzied intensity that verges on chaos. After the storm has passed, a quiet, gentle soundscape emerges, characterized by trombone glissandi. At the end of the piece, only the highest notes of the piccolo remain, while the reverberation of the brass sounds fades away from different directions.
Toshi Ichiyanagi (1933–2022)
Double Concerto for Violin, Shamisen and Orchestra (2021)
Toshi Ichiyanagi, born in Japan in 1933, moved to the US after graduating from school to study at the Juilliard School. There he met John Cage, whose music had a profound influence on him, and a period of close collaboration ensued. When he returned to Japan in 1961, he brought Cage's aleatoric music with him and at the same time presented a series of his own experimental works, which caused a sensation in the Japanese music scene. However, his career did not end with these early innovations. From the 1970s onwards, he soon incorporated repetition techniques into his music, and by the early 1980s he had already completed several large-scale works—operas and oratorios—that seemed to unite and reconcile his earlier approaches. His spirit of experimentation remained intact until the end of his life. Ichiyanagi constantly questioned the nature of time and space; for him, the two dimensions were inseparable. This perspective, reminiscent of Cage's view, also corresponds to the Japanese sensitivity to nature and temporality.
Ichiyanagi's last composition was the Double Concerto for Violin, Shamisen, and Orchestra, completed at the age of 89. The choice of the Western violin and the Japanese shamisen as solo instruments for a double concerto is extremely unusual; Lou Harrison's Concerto for Gamelan Instruments and Cello would be one of the few comparable pieces. It seems to be the first time that the violin and shamisen have been combined in this way. But it was more than just a novelty: since the 1980s, Ichiyanagi had been searching for ways to bring Eastern and Western musical languages together. The double concerto is one of the high points in his long exploration of this question.
The absence of wind instruments is striking; instead, the orchestra includes four percussion ensembles that unfold a remarkable range of timbres. The first movement begins with the solo violin; soon the shamisen joins in, and a cadenza-like gesture prevails from the outset. The shamisen plays a rapid chord sequence, the orchestra joins in, and a multi-layered texture immediately develops. The characteristic gestures of the shamisen are transferred to the strings, especially the solo violin, creating a vivid, memorable sound effect.
The second movement could perhaps be described as Ichiyangi's own brand of minimalism. The solo instruments are interwoven with relentless repetitions in the violas and cellos, resulting in a variety of moods. In the middle, percussion, violin, and shamisen come together in a fluid passage in which Eastern and Western-influenced flows of time gradually intertwine. Finally, the initial material returns, with the repetition patterns appearing in the low strings. In the final moments of the piece, the rhythms of the solo instruments unite, creating a rich, powerful resonance. This moving conclusion represents the fulfillment of Ichiyanagi's artistic journey.
Yoichi Sugiyama (*1969)
Autoritratto (2020)
Yoichi Sugiyama, born in Tokyo in 1969, began studying composition with Akira Miyoshi at the age of twelve and later graduated from the Toho Gakuen School of Music. There he also studied conducting with Morihiro Okabe. From 1995, with the help of a scholarship from the Italian government, he studied composition with Franco Donatoni and Sandro Gorli, as well as conducting with Emilio Pomarico. After moving to Milan, Sugiyama built a career as a composer and conductor. He has received commissions from numerous Japanese and international institutions, including Milano Musica, the Venice Biennale, and the Suntory Hall Summer Festival. As a conductor, he has worked with renowned ensembles such as the NHK Symphony Orchestra, Tokyo Philharmonic, Orchestra RAI, Teatro Comunale di Bologna, Ensemble Modern, and Klangforum Wien. He is also dedicated to training young musicians and currently teaches at the Claudio Abbado Conservatory in Milan.
Autoritratto [Self-Portrait] was composed in 2020, when the coronavirus pandemic swept across the world and claimed numerous victims in Milan, Sugiyama's home city. In response to these circumstances, he created an unusual musical self-portrait.
This orchestral work serves as a musical chronicle of the wars, conflicts, and social unrest that have erupted around the world over the past 50 years—from 1969, the year Sugiyama was born, to 2020, when the piece was completed. He proceeds compositionally as follows: First, Sugiyama quotes from Juan Bautista Cabanilles' Batalla Imperial, a piece he often heard as a child. This introduction is followed by a long series of references to global conflicts. For each event, the corresponding national anthem (or, in the case of civil wars, the regional anthem) is played. Each new year is announced by a beat on a large drum, and a collage of overlapping national anthems emerges. The anthem of the party attacked in each case always sounds first—in the Vietnam War, for example, the national anthem of South Vietnam is played first.
Another layer of complexity is added by the geographical division of the orchestra. The woodwinds represent countries in South Asia, Central Europe, Northern Ireland, etc.; the brass instruments play the national anthems of post-Soviet states. The first violins play African anthems, the second violins those of the Arabian Peninsula, the cellos those of Indonesia, the Philippines, South Korea, China, and neighboring regions, and finally the double basses play the Central American anthems.
Three major events—the fall of the Berlin Wall, the dissolution of the Soviet Union, and the 9/11 terrorist attacks—are treated as exceptions, marked by the sound of tubular bells. Through this complex scheme, the entire work tells the grim story of global warfare. Its dense, restless sounds reflect the upheavals in the world. The piece ends with an Italian funeral signal on the trumpet – symbolising the daily victims of the pandemic, whose funerals in Italy were accompanied by this very sound.
Yuji Numano
Translation: Wieland Hoban