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Elisabeth Lutyens’s music drama The numbered : a critical-analytical study Parson, Laurel 2003

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ELISABETH L U T Y E N S ' S MUSIC D R A M A THE NUMBERED: A CRITICAL-ANALYTIC STUDY by L A U R E L JEANNE PARSONS B.Mus., Wilfrid Laurier University, 1980 M.A. , University of Waterloo, 1987 M.A. , University of British Columbia, 1991 A THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF THE F A C U L T Y OF G R A D U A T E STUDIES (School of Music; Musicology, Emphasis Music Theory) DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY in THE UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH C O L U M B I A April 2003 © Laurel Jeanne Parsons, 2003 In presenting this thesis in partial fulfilment of the requirements for an advanced degree at the University of British Columbia, I agree that the Library shall make it freely available for reference and study. I further agree that permission for extensive copying of this thesis for scholarly purposes may be granted by the head of my department or by his or her representatives. It is understood that copying or publication of this thesis for financial gain shall not be allowed without my written permission. Department of The University of British Columbia Vancouver, Canada DE-6 (2/88) Abstract Composer Elisabeth Lutyens (1906-83) was one of the outstanding pioneers of musical modernism in Britain, and is credited with producing the first British serial composition (the 1939 Chamber Concerto, Op. 8, No. J). Although Lutyens's music was widely performed and recorded by major orchestras, instrumentalists and conductors in the 1960's and 1970's, her work has yet to receive the scholarly attention it deserves. This dissertation represents the first detailed study of her magnum opus, the music drama The Numbered (1967). Based on Nobel laureate Elias Canetti's 1953 play Die Befristeten, The Numbered explores how the consciousness of death affects human behaviour. The opera is set in a fictitious society whose members are allotted lifespans by the State, and named according to the number of years they will live. The main character Fifty suspects, and eventually proves to the public, that the State's supposed power over death is a hoax. Political revolution ensues, but by revealing to the people that death can come at any time, Fifty has reintroduced into society the fear, violence, murder and madness that the system had successfully controlled. Chapter 1 provides an introduction to Lutyens's career as well as the pre- and post-compositional history of the opera. Chapter 2 is devoted to the origins and structure of the libretto, including a discussion of Canetti's dramatic theories. Chapters 3 through 10 focus analytically, theoretically and critically on aspects of Lutyens's compositional technique in the opera: melodic and vocal characterization; Lutyens's use of, and varying adherence to, serial methods; temporal organization; and motivic structure. The purpose of the critical analysis is twofold: first, to illuminate the interaction of musical and dramatic elements in a compelling work of art that has yet to be published or publicly performed; and second, to introduce the reader to characteristic features of Elisabeth Lutyens's musical language. i i i Table of Contents Abstract i i List of Tables iv Acknowledgments v Chapter 1. Introduction 1 Chapter 2. The Origins and Structure of the Libretto 27 Chapter 3. From Libretto to Opera: Modes of Enunciation 83 Chapter 4. Melodic Characterization of Fifty, His Friend and the Keeper 131 Chapter 5. Lutyens's Serial Language .' 183 Chapter 6. The Row as Law? The Trial Scene and the Revolution 232 Chapter 7. Marking Time: Meter and Rhythm in The Numbered 296 Chapter 8. The Funeral Scene 325 Chapter 9. Discontinuous Continuities: Motivic Relations in The Numbered 361 Chapter 10. The Numbered and the Aesthetic of Resistance 432 Bibliography 443 iv List of Tables 2.1a. Scenes o f Die Befristeten, Part I 42 2.1b. Scenes of Die Befristeten, Part II 43 2.2. Facet Scenes in Die Befristeten 44 2.3a. The Play and Libretto, Part/Act I 54 2.3b. The Play and Libretto, Part/Act II 55 2.4a. Scene-by-Scene Orchestration, Ac t I 74 2.4b. Scene-by-Scene Orchestration, A c t II 75 2.5. The Disbelief Motive 78 3.1. Voice Types and Characters 84 3.2. Special Techniques: Fifty 93 3.3. Special Techniques: Fifty 95 3.4. Special Techniques: Fifty 96 3.5. Special Techniques: Numbers o f Syllables 99 3.6. Comparison of Mel isma in Fifty, the Friend, and the Keeper's Parts 101 4.1. Comparison of Fifty's Voca l Lines in Examples 4.13, 4.15, 4.16 167 4.2. Comparison o f Examples 4.13, 4.14 and 4.19 176 5.1. Set Class Inventory o f the Row 210 5.2. C-Partitions 211 6.1. Choral Simultaneities, M m . 1.11.1670-74 241 6.2. Choral Simultaneities, 1.11.1676-85 245 8.1. Passages o f Septuple Meter in The Numbered. . . . . 329 9.1. Fifty and the Keeper, II.4 411 9.2. Fifty and the Keeper, II.8 412 9.3. Fifty and his Friend, II.9 413 Acknowledgments This project would not have been possible without the assistance o f several individuals and institutions. First, I am immensely grateful to my dissertation supervisor, Dr. Richard Kurth, for his advice, encouragement, and sheer endurance. Thanks are also due to Dr. John Roeder, Dr. Wi l l i am Benjamin, Dr. David Metzer, Dr. Steven Taubeneck, and Prof. Robert Gardiner o f the University of British Columbia, and Dr. Harald Krebs o f the University o f Victor ia , for their careful and constructive reading of my work. The ever-helpful University o f York Music Press provided me with custom-printed copies of the orchestral and piano-vocal scores o f The Numbered, which were o f course essential to the project. Additional logistical support was provided by Chris Banks, Curator o f Mus i c Manuscripts at the British Library; Simon W o o l f o f the Brit ish Mus ic Information Centre; T i m Day, Curator o f Western Art Mus ic at Britain's National Sound Archive; Isabel da Silva and Valerie Pusey o f the University of British Columbia School o f Mus ic administrative staff; and Kirsten Walsh o f the U B C Mus ic Library. Financial support was provided by the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Counci l of Canada, the U B C Faculty o f Graduate Studies in partnership with Canadian Airl ines, and the U B C School o f Music . A number of Elisabeth Lutyens's friends, students, and associates provided valuable information along with some wonderful anecdotes, and sometimes even food and drink. These include former N e w Opera Company artistic director Leon Lovett; soprano Jane Manning; composers Anthony Payne, Robert Saxton, Brian Elias, and G l y n Perrin, executor of Lutyens's estate; pianist-writer Susan Bradshaw, and soprano Alexandra Browning of the University o f Vic tor ia . From Australia, Lutyens's son, Conrad Clark, contributed some very useful recollections of The Numbered's composition. I am also unendingly grateful to my family and friends. M y husband Glenn provided 24-hour emergency service in response to various technological disasters; outstanding contributions to domestic business issues, particularly in the areas o f child care and plant management; and most importantly, unwavering moral support despite the tribulations o f being married to a graduate student. Many thanks vi also to my brother Robert Thompson, sister-in-law Heather Biasio and friend Dr. Melinda Boyd, for periodically making their homes available to me for work, rest, and sustenance. I am also grateful to my father, Fred Thompson, for his encouragement through the years. My mother, Judith Silcox Thompson, passed on to me her love for music and literature, and supported my endeavours in many practical ways until her final illness. Finally, a word about my children. When I began my doctoral work, they were 2/2, 4, 4, and 8. Now, nearly seven years older, they have little or no memory of a time when their mother was not distracted by the need to read, study, or work on that mysterious something called a "dissertation." I thank them for their forbearance. They are also largely responsible for my choice of research topic. Six years ago, knowing the name "Elisabeth Lutyens" only vaguely, I came across a photograph of her working on a score, with a toddler on her lap and her doll-toting twins hovering over the desk. My own similar experience, still in medias res at the time, gave me an instant appreciation for the professional challenges Lutyens faced, and sparked my interest in discovering more about her work. For these reasons, and for the love and laughter they continue to bring me, this dissertation is dedicated to Glenn, Andrew, Sarah, Sean and Rebecca. Chapter 1. Introduction. Elisabeth Lutyens (1906-83) was one of the most remarkable composers of twentieth-century Britain. Known variously as the "mother of British serialism" or "Twelve-Tone Lizzie," 1 Lutyens began experimenting with serial compositional principles in the 1930's and over the next fifty years produced over three hundred compositions in a wide variety of genres. The Oxford History of English Music identifies her 1939 Chamber Concerto Op. 8, No. 1 as the first significant British composition to employ serial methods, describing Lutyens as the strongest "among several contemporaries of Britten and Tippett. . . whose outlook was considerably more 'advanced,' in purely technical aspects, than theirs." Aside from her own compositional work, Lutyens also played a stimulative role as a mentor and promoter of British new music, as Arnold Whittall notes when he includes her in a small group of conductors, critics and composers without whose "pioneering advocacy of advanced music . . . the so-called 1960s generation would have found it more difficult to reap the rewards of the new permissiveness and prosperity."3 Stephen Banfield, summarizing her contributions in both spheres of activity, concludes that Lutyens "virtually created the musical avant garde in Britain." 4 Lutyens's contributions to British contemporary art music were formally recognized on both sides of the Atlantic. In 1969, she was made a Commander of the British Empire by Queen Elizabeth II. Ten years later, she received a lifetime 1. Meirion and Susie Harries, A Pilgrim Soul: The Life and Work of Elisabeth Lutyens (London: Michael Joseph/Penguin, 1989), 1. 2. John Caldwell, The Oxford History of English Music (New York and Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999), Vol . 2, 432. The other composers Caldwell identifies in this category are Benjamin Frankel and Humphrey Searle. 3. Arnold Whittall, "British Music in the Modern World," Chapter 1 of The Twentieth Century, Vol . 6 of the Blackwell History of Music in Britain (Oxford: Blackwell, 1995), edited by Stephen Banfield, 19. 4. Stephen Banfield, "Vocal Music," Chapter 12 of The Twentieth Century, Vol . 6 of the Blackwell History of Music in Britain, 488. 2 achievement award from the American Academy and Institute of Arts and Letters, citing her as "one of the small number of British composers who has worked successfully in the advanced idioms of the twentieth century."5 In part because of her outspoken and sometimes eccentric personality, Lutyens attracted a significant amount of media attention during her lifetime. Particularly during the 1960's and 70's, dozens of her works were performed, broadcast and recorded in Britain by major orchestras and soloists.6 During William dock 's tenure as Controller of Music at the BBC (1959-72), she received nearly twice as many commissions as any other composer, including Alan Rawsthorne, Malcolm Arnold, Richard Rodney Bennett, Harrison Birtwhistle, and Peter Maxwell Davies.7 She was frequently interviewed on radio and was the subject of Q three BBC documentary films. Lutyens's autobiography, A Goldfish Bowl, was published in 1972.9 But the most detailed and reliable account of her career is Meirion and Susie Harries's 1989 book A Pilgrim Soul: The Life and Work of Elisabeth Lutyens, making her one of the first female composers to have been the subject of a published, book-length biography.10 Aside from these two works, the published literature on Lutyens falls almost exclusively into two 5. Meirion and Susie Harries, A Pilgrim Soul: The Life and Works of Elisabeth Lutyens (London: Michael Joseph/Penguin, 1989). 6. Citations of specific recordings will be included where relevant throughout the dissertation. Britain's National Sound Archive houses literally hundreds of broadcast recordings of Lutyens's music. 7. Harries and Harries, A Pilgrim Soul, 198. 8. The BBC' s website at includes excerpts of a 1969 radio interview. The B B C documentaries are: "Music Makers 7: The First Seventy Years are the Worst," B B C LMAE293K T X 29/08/79. "Omnibus: Two Lives in Music" (segments on Elisabeth Lutyens and Barry Tuckwell), B B C LMA1107T 09/12/76. "Elisabeth Lutyens," B B C LMA6306A T X 14/10/71. 9. Elisabeth Lutyens, A Goldfish Bowl (London: Cassell, 1972). 10. Other biographies of female composers include Nancy B. Reich, Clara Schumann: The Artist and the Woman (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1985; revised edition, 2001); Adrienne Fried Block, Amy Beach, Passionate Victorian: The Life and Work of an American Composer 1867-1944 (New York: Oxford University Press, 1998); Louise Collis, Impetuous Heart: The Story of Ethel Smyth (London: Kimber, 1984). 3 categories: media articles, interviews, and reviews produced during her lifetime, usually coinciding with a premiere of one of her works; and brief entries in encyclopedias or historical surveys.11 Of the latter, Anthony Payne's article in The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians provides a particularly thorough assessment, one based on first-hand knowledge of both the composer and her music. Also noteworthy is a recent article by • 13 Jennifer Doctor that puts Lutyens's early career into historical perspective. But while Lutyens's life has been well-documented, her music has been the subject of relatively little scholarly attention. The most important exception is Sarah Tenant-Flowers's unpublished dissertation surveying Lutyens's compositional development throughout her career.14 In addition, a few American theses or dissertations have discussed some of her piano, vocal, or choral works, usually as part of a study of related works by several composers.15 To date, however, the only detailed published analysis of any of Lutyens's compositions is the present author's 1999 article on her 1954 Motet (Excerpta Tractati Logico-Philosophici), based on text by Ludwig Wittgenstein.16 11. See Bibliography for complete citations. 12. Anthony Payne, "Lutyens, (Agnes) Elisabeth," The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians, edited by Stanley Sadie (London: Macmillan, 1980), 11:375-77. Payne, a composer and one of Britain's foremost music journalists, and his wife, soprano Jane Manning, were close associates of Lutyens. Manning premiered many of Lutyens's vocal works and is responsible for the first recording devoted exclusively to Lutyens's music {Elisabeth Lutyens (1906-83), Jane's Minstrels, Jane Manning and Roger Montgomery, N M C D u l l , 1993). 13. Jennifer Doctor, "Intersecting Circles: The Early Careers of Elizabeth Maconchy, Elisabeth Lutyens, and Grace Williams," Women and Music: A Journal of Gender and Culture 2 (1998): 90-109. 14. Sarah J. Tenant-Flowers, " A Study of Style and Techniques in the Music of Elisabeth Lutyens" (Ph.D. diss., University of Durham, 1991). 15. Richard Alan Palmer, "The A Cappella Choral Works for Mixed Voices of Elisabeth Lutyens," (A.Mus.D. thesis, University of Illinois, 1984); Irene Ruth Bowling, British Piano Music Since 1945: A Selected Survey (D.M.A. diss., University of Washington, 1989); Lily Chia Brissman, Musical Settings of Dylan Thomas's Poetry for Solo Voice and Piano (D.M.A. diss., Arizona State University, 1991); and Catherine Roma, "The Choral Music of Twentieth-Century Composers Elisabeth Lutyens, Elizabeth Maconchy, and Thea Musgrave" (D.M.A. diss., University of Cincinnati, 1989). 16. Laurel Parsons, "Music and Text in Elisabeth Lutyens's Wittgenstein Motet," Canadian University Music Review 20/'1 (1999): 71-100. 4 With the exception of Tenant-Flowers's wide-ranging dissertation, studies of Lutyens's music have focused on her relatively small-scale works for chorus, solo voice or piano. Currently available recordings of Lutyens's music similarly tend to include only works for limited performance forces, suggesting that her primary compositional achievements were in small-scale genres. Yet several of her most important works were written for substantial instrumental and/or vocal forces. For example, one of her first major critical successes was the B B C Symphony Orchestra's 1962 premiere of Quincunx (1959), a 1 7 multi-movement orchestral work with baritone and (wordless) soprano. The structure of the work is founded on the image of the quincunx, a geometric figure comprising five points laid out like the five-dot pattern on one side of a die. Example 1.1 demonstrates the five-part structure of the piece. At its centre is an unaccompanied baritone solo with text drawn from The Garden of Cyrus (1658), a treatise on the significance of the quincunx shape and the number five in nature, mathematics, art and philosophy by the English physician Sir Thomas Browne (1605-82). Each of the outer four sections consists of one tutti and one solo movement, the latter scored for a different orchestral group each time. In a review of its first performance, critic Robert Henderson described Quincunx as having a "tight, rigorous, closely-reasoned internal structure, a structure that grows imperceptibly with the music itself."18 Anthony Payne remarks that "the balanced architecture of Quincunx (1959) presents grandeur and classically controlled passion."19 The "balanced architecture" of the work can be seen not only in the symmetry of the quincuncial 17. Quincunx was recorded by the B B C Symphony under Norman del Mar on Maw and Lutyens, Argo 622. 18. Robert Henderson, "Elisabeth Lutyens," Musical Times 104 (August, 1963), 552. 19. Payne, New Grove Dictionary ofMusic and Musicians,] 1:37'5. 5 * "But the Quincunx of Heaven runs low, and 'tis time to close the five ports of knowledge; we are unwill ing to spin out our waking thoughts into the phantasms o f sleep; which often continueth precogitations; making Cables o f Cobwebbes, and Wildernesses of handsome Groves." - From The Garden of Cyrus by Sir Thomas Browne (1605-82) Example 1.1. Structure of Quincunx (1959). 6 pattern but in the last two sections' reversal of the order of solo and tutti movements. Despite this Apollonian symmetry, Quincunx still projects elements of the Dionysian. As recently as 1999, musicologist John Caldwell wrote that "the violence and unpredictability of this work are disturbing, but it well illustrates the formidable expressive range of a still underrated composer." Quincunx thus reflects a mix of reason and passion that is characteristic of Lutyens's oeuvre as a whole. Quincunx is one of several of Lutyens's compositions recorded by the BBC Symphony in the 1960's, but because these works are only available on forty-year-old vinyl LP's, they remain unknown and almost completely inaccessible to contemporary audiences and scholars. For these reasons—the lack of scholarship regarding Lutyens's music in general, and her large-scale works in particular—I have chosen as the subject of this dissertation the "largest" of all Lutyens's compositions: her 1967 opera The Numbered. This choice also addresses a gap in scholarship regarding the music of female composers in general. Although there is a growing literature analyzing works by female composers, most of these studies focus on relatively small-scale pieces such as string quartets or songs.21 Furthermore, despite a plethora of books and articles in recent years on women as operatic characters and/or performers, very little research has been done on operas composed 20. Caldwell, The Oxford History of English Music, Vol . 2, 433. 21. The principal book-length analytical studies of music by female composers are Joseph N . Straus, The Music of Ruth Crawford Seeger (Cambridge and New York: Cambridge University Press, 1995); Ellie M . Hisama, Gendering Musical Modernism: The Music of Ruth Crawford, Marion Bauer, and Miriam Gideon (Cambridge: University of Cambridge Press, 2001); Janina Klassen, Clara Wieck-Schumann: Die Virtuosin als Komponistin, Studien zu ihrem Werk (Kassel: Barenreiter, 1990); David Duke, "The Orchestral Music of Jean Coulthard: A Critical Assessment" (Ph.D. diss., University of Victoria, 1993); Glenn Colton, "The Piano Music of Jean Coulthard" (Ph.D. diss., University of Victoria, 1997). Articles include Rose Marie Chisolm, "Analytical Approaches to Amy Beach's Piano Quintet in F# Minor," Indiana Theory Review 4 (1981), 41-53, and Gail Dixon, "The String Quartets of Barbara Pentland," Canadian University Music Review 11/2 (1991), 94-121. 7 22 by women. Two recent exceptions are Jacqueline Letzter and Robert Adelson's recent book on women opera composers in revolutionary France, and Melinda Boyd's dissertation on the operas of the composer Ingeborg von Bronsart (1840-1913).23 The undue weighting of attention towards small-scale compositions has for centuries been a common feature in the reception of music by female composers. Among recent scholars, Jill Halstead argues that the disregard of large-scale works by female composers has both reflected and perpetuated the idea that women are more naturally disposed towards smaller forms and indeed may even be incapable of producing extended works. 2 4 Halstead cites a remarkably recent example of such thinking: From conception to completion, Wagner's Ring Cycle took thirty-four years to compose, a remarkable example of persistence and determination. Many women have written successful songs . . . but they have seldom put together musical works on a grander scale such as operas, symphonies or even musical comedies. It is difficult to escape the conclusion that some factor such as intrinsic motivation or 'scale of thinking' is another contributor to artistic genius.25 22. For examples of works interpreting women as operatic characters or performers, see Susan McClary, Feminine Endings: Music, Gender, and Sexuality (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1991); Carolyn Abbate, "Opera; or, the Envoicing of Women," Musicology and Difference, edited by Ruth A. Solie (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993), 225-58; Catherine Clement, Opera.Or the Undoing of Women, translated by Betsy Wing (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1988). 23. Jacqueline Letzter and Robert Adelson, Women Writing Opera: Creativity and Controversy in the Age of the French Revolution (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2001); Melinda Jean Boyd, "Opera, or The Doing of Women: The Dramatic Works of Ingeborg von Bronsart (1840-1913)" (Ph.D. diss., University of British Columbia, 2002). See also Letzter and Adelson's "Re-constructing the Author Function: Naming the Forgotten Women of Eighteenth-Century Opera," Women of Note Quarterly 5 (1997): 13-26, and Denise Boneau, "Louise Bertin and Opera in Paris in the 1820s and 1830s" (Ph.D. diss., University of Chicago, 1989). 24. Jill Halstead, The Woman Composer: Creativity and the Gendered Politics of Musical Composition (Aldershot: Ashgate Press, 1997). 25. Glenn Wilson, The Great Sex Divide: A Study of Male-Female Differences (London: Peter Owen, 1989), 108-09. Cited in Halstead, 171. 8 This dissertation offers Lutyens's opera as a counter-example to essentialist claims of this nature. Lutyens's Early Career and the Origins of Her Serialism Elisabeth Lutyens's musical training began at the age of seven or eight with lessons in violin and piano. She began composing soon after, and at the age of sixteen, decided to make composition her career. She persuaded her parents to allow her to study in Paris, and in 1922-23 she studied harmony, counterpoint, solfege and piano at the Ecole Normale. She found the instruction she received there uninspiring, but the Parisian musical world of the time filled her with an enthusiasm for European modernism that fuelled her later compositional developments. During her studies she lived with another young female 26 composer, Marcelle de Manziarly, the daughter of family friends. Already by the age of 21, Manziarly was a published composer, a fact that deeply impressed the teenaged Lutyens. Manziarly introduced her to the musical world of Paris in the early 1920's, a far more stimulating and influential experience for Lutyens than her formal studies at the Ecole Normale. Also a concert pianist, Manziarly played many new works for her on the piano and took her to concerts and the opera, including the premiere of Stravinsky's Symphony of Psalms. Manziarly shared with Lutyens her orchestral scores of Debussy's Pelleas et Melisande, Stravinsky's Sacre du Printemps, and Mussorgsky's Boris Godunov, among others. In her autobiography, Lutyens recalls her Parisian experience: 26. Marcelle de Manziarly (1900-89), a student of Nadia Boulanger, is described in the 1954 edition of Grove's Dictionary of Music and Musicians as "one of the most intelligent and independent followers of Stravinsky's doctrine of'objective composition': her scores are devised to solve many problems of harmonic and contrapuntal syntax in their relation to form, and her solutions are often ingenious and always elegant." Fred Goldbeck, "Manziarly, Marcelle de," Grove's Dictionary of Music and Musicians, edited by Eric Blom (New York: St. Martin's Press, 1954; 1970), V: 556. 9 There was a shop in the Place de la Madeleine—is it still there?—where, on a pouring wet day, passing the black pile of the imposing church, and les Flics conducting the chaos of the traffic, I looked in the window and saw my first Picasso, Braque and Juan Gris. Modern Art, Modern Music, words that rang out like revolutionary clarions to my receptive ears.27 Upon her return to London eighteen months later, she studied composition privately with the composer John Foulds. But her musical development was otherwise stalled as she became absorbed in her mother's activities in the international Theosophical movement. Her mother, Lady Emily Lytton, took Elisabeth and her sister Mary with her to Austria, Italy, India and Australia for a series of Theosophist training camps. But Elisabeth could not sustain her mother's faith in Theosophical doctrines, and in the fall of 1926 she abandoned organized religion permanently, concluding that "sanity . . . lies in applying the conscious mind objectively and allowing the 'unconscious'— 'inspiration', 'soul', 'spirit' . . . to look, as an adult, after itself."28 Her determination to become a composer redoubled, Lutyens entered the Royal College of Music in the fall of 1927. She successfully fought the College's initial unwillingness to let her choose composition as her chief subject of study, but they would not let her study with either of the two principal composition teachers at the time, Ralph Vaughan 27. Lutyens, A Goldfish Bowl, 21. 28. Cited in Harries and Harries, A Pilgrim Soul, 52. 10 Williams and John Ireland.29 She was assigned instead to the organist Harold Darke, a teacher of harmony and counterpoint who had only a few composition pupils. In the end, she was grateful, for Darke was enormously encouraging and supportive. Most importantly, during her years at the College, he undertook to arrange performances of nearly every one of her compositions. In the late 1920's, the Royal College of Music educated a number of prominent British composers such as Benjamin Britten. There was also a strong female presence among the composition students, including Elizabeth Maconchy and Dorothy Gow. Like the Ecole Normale, however, the College was conservative in its outlook, using Stanford, Parry and Brahms as models for its students. It was the height of the so-called English Renaissance: Vaughan Williams, Ireland and others who employed English folk and church music within a largely tonal or modal idiom, were viewed as England's great modern composers. Lutyens's glimpses of European modernism had instilled in her a distaste for what she perceived as musical parochialism, and so she found her years at the College somewhat disappointing. Nevertheless, she did meet a number of like-minded young composers and musicians. Following her graduation in 1930, she suggested the idea of a new music concert series to some College friends, violinist Anne Macnaghten and conductor Iris Lemare. These concerts featured first performances of music by young composers, made more palatable to the listening public with a sprinkling of old but unfamiliar repertoire. The Macnaghten-Lemare Concerts became a staple of London musical life for the next several decades, premiering 29. In her autobiography, Lutyens claims that she was not allowed to make composition her "first subject" because Sir Hugh Allen, then director of the College, saw "no sign of talent." A Goldfish Bowl, 38. 30. Ibid, 48-49. 11 works by many young English composers including Benjamin Britten as well as Lutyens, Maconchy and others. In the early 1930's, Lutyens had yet to find an approach to composition that satisfied her. A turning point came in 1933, when a French violinist introduced her to the Purcell string fantasias: It was hearing these works, with their equality of part-writing, coupled with my satiety—to screaming point—with diatonic cadential harmony, that led me to discover gradually, for my own compositional needs, what some years later I heard described as "twelve-tone," "serial" composition. I had not, as yet, heard Q 1 the names, still less the music, of the new Viennese School. The inspiration of Purcell is reflected in the titles of several Lutyens compositions of the mid-1930's, including an orchestral arrangement of a Buxtehude passacaglia (1935), the Five-Part Fantasia for String Orchestra (1937/8), the Partita for Two Violins, and the solo Viola Sonata (both 1938). Sarah Tenant-Flowers has compared Lutyens's pre- and post-Purcell compositions, finding in the later works the frequent application of inversion and transposition to short segments taken from a single, thematic melodic line, as well as rhythmic augmentation and diminution—characteristic techniques of PurcelPs contrapuntal • • 32 string writing. 31. Lutyens, A Goldfish Bowl, 69. 32. Tenant-Flowers, " A Study of Style and Techniques in the Music of Elisabeth Lutyens," 98. Wallace Berry has described the Purcell fantasias as "a truly splendid source for the analysis of texture in all its implications." Structural Functions in Music (1976; New York: Dover, 1987), 206. 12 A second major influence in the 1930's was the music of Anton von Webern. In 1934, Lutyens heard Webern's music for the first time in a performance by the Kolisch Quartet, and was tremendously excited by the sounds she heard. Four years later in 1938, she was profoundly affected by the premiere performance of his cantata Das Augenlicht, and from then on considered Webern "a guiding spirit of all future music." 3 3 This is not to say, however, that she (or many other listeners) immediately grasped the technical procedures behind the sounds that so impressed her: "I had still seen no score of his, had not yet heard any music of Schoenberg (other than a performance of the Gurrelieder), or Berg and the knell-like sound of the word 'twelve-tone' was not as yet in our musical vocabulary."34 Lutyens's knowledge of Second Viennese School music undoubtedly expanded after 1938 when she met Edward Clark (1888-1962), who would later become her second husband.35 Clark, an extraordinary figure in the English musical world, had been a member of Arnold Schoenberg's circle during the years immediately preceding World War I. Living in Berlin as a correspondent for the Musical Times and a conducting student of Oskar Fried, Clark had arranged for Schoenberg's move to Berlin in 1911. He found Schoenberg a home, organized a lecture series and advertised for pupils on Schoenberg's behalf. Described by H. H. Stiickenschmidt as "the vanguard of the Schoenberg group in Berlin," Clark was Schoenberg's first student in that city, studying with him from 1911 until the outbreak of war, • 1 / when he was interned as an enemy alien by the Germans for three years. Following his 33. Lutyens, A Goldfish Bowl, 76. 34. Ibid. 35. In 1933, Lutyens married the singer Ian Glennie, and by 1936 she had given birth to three children, including a set of twins. 36. H. H. Stuckenschmidt, Schoenberg: His Life, World and Work, translated by Humphrey Searle (London: John Calder, 1977), 150. Clark and Schoenberg remained lifelong friends; letters and other manuscripts pertaining to their relationship are contained in the British Library's 2-volume collection "Letters to Edward Clark," B L Add. Ms. 52256 and 52257. 13 release in 1917, the war made it impossible for him to settle in Germany as he had planned, so he returned to England, bringing with him an enthusiasm for the European musical avant-garde and a wealth of connections with the foremost Continental composers and musicians of the time. Back in conservative England, he did more to advance the cause of contemporary music in Britain than perhaps anyone else, by organizing performances of music by his European friends, including Schoenberg, Berg, Webern, Stravinsky, Bartok, Richard Strauss, Milhaud, Hindemith, Busoni and many more. From 1924 until early 1936, he worked for the BBC as a Music Programme Builder, in which capacity he organized broadcasts and live performances of new music from Europe and England.3 8 After Clark's death in 1962, Stravinsky wrote in the Observer: Clark was perhaps the only English musician who understood the true importance of the Schoenberg School from its beginnings and when, some day, his efforts on its behalf at the B.B.C. are made known English musical history will receive a surprise. 39 Clark was one of my closest friends and I wept a few weeks ago when he died. Although by 1938 Lutyens was married with three young children, she was immediately drawn to Clark with his passion for music and ideas, his involvement in the 37. The British Library's Edward Clark collection (see n. 34) includes letters from these and many other prominent composers, performers and conductors, pertaining mostly to arrangements for performances and broadcasts. 38. In 1936, Clark left the B B C after a rancorous dispute and from then on was unable to secure permanent employment. However, his influence on the British contemporary music world remained strong through his involvement in the leadership of the ISCM (a relationship that itself was often stormy). For a detailed account of Clark's career, see Jennifer R. Doctor, The BBC and Ultra-Modern Music, 1922-1936: Shaping a Nation's Tastes (Cambridge and New York: Cambridge University Press, 1999). 39. Cited in Lutyens, A Goldfish Bowl, 115. 14 European contemporary music world, and a cosmopolitan outlook on life so at odds with the general insularity of British culture between the wars. In 1939, she left her husband and began a new life with Clark, whom she married in 1941 after the birth of their son Conrad. Elisabeth Lutyens's Dramatic Music: Some Background The Numbered is a mature work, completed at the height of her career in 1967. But although it was her first full-length opera, it was not by any means her first foray into dramatic music. In 1947, commissioned by William Walton, she wrote The Pit, a "dramatic scena" about a mining disaster; this work was first staged at the 1949 ISCM Festival in Palermo. Infidelio (1954), the story of a failed love affair told backwards from the woman's suicide, incorporated multi-media by projecting slides on a screen behind the singers; it has been called "arguably one of the first instances of music theatre" in Britain. 4 0 Critic Andrew Porter describes its 1977 revival: Although the piece . . . was composed back in 1954 (before the vogue for "music theatre," or concert-platform opera, began in earnest) the 1973 performance was its premiere. In this production, the two singers stand on a bare stage while behind them the "action" unfolds in a series of expressive photographs taken by John Haynes. Infidelio is a small, masterly work, passionate, delicate, and precise. Its particular eloquence lies in the writing for the small orchestra [flute, clarinet, bassoon, viola, 40. Matthew Rye, "Music and Drama," Chapter 11 of The Twentieth Century, Vo l . 6 of the Blackwell History of Music in Britain (Oxford: Blackwell, 1995), 381. Infidelio was premiered in 1973 by the New Opera Company at Sadler's Wells with soprano Alexandra Browning, and conducted by Leon Lovett; the production was revived in 1977. 15 percussion, celeste, and guitar] but the instrumental lines and rhythms grow from the lines of the libretto, Miss Lutyens's own, as declaimed with lyrical freedom across a very wide range. The composer is sensitive to the weight, speed, verbal sound, and inflexions of her Yeatsian poetry.41 Because of Edward Clark's chronic underemployment from the late 1930's until his death in 1962, Lutyens was the primary breadwinner for her family of six. Beginning in the 1940's, Lutyens often had to earn her living by composing music on contract for radio, television, theatre, and film. Along with documentaries, military propaganda films, industrial shorts, and commercials, she wrote incidental music for radio plays by her friends Dylan Thomas and Louis MacNeice, and for live theatrical productions of Shakespeare and classical Greek plays. In the years surrounding The Numbered's composition, she was frequently hired by the Hammer film company to compose original soundtracks for horror films, including The Earth Dies Screaming, Dr. Terror's House of Horrors (both 1964), The Skull (1965), and Theatre of Death (1968). Her work for radio, television, theatre and film, though wide-ranging in genre, consistently involved the composition of music in association with text, characters and (except in the case of radio) some kind of visual presentation. Lutyens acquired a reputation for her sensitive treatment of text in vocal and choral music, and her setting of texts from an unusually wide variety of sources. British soprano Jane Manning has written of her superior gifts in this regard, noting her sensitivity to textual nuances, "exceptional understanding of 41. Andrew Porter, "Infidelio and Dawnpath," Financial Times, 30 September 1977. 16 the voice's natural properties" and "finest sensibility to vocal timbre and tessitura."42 The Numbered, much longer than her earlier stage works, thus brought together for the first time on such an extended scale her much-practised skills in writing vocal and orchestral music, her sensitivity to text, and her experience in writing various forms of "dramatic" music. A Short History of The Numbered The Numbered is a compelling subject of study, rich in philosophical as well as analytical interest. Its libretto is based on the 1953 play Die Befristeten by Elias Canetti (1905-94). In 1981, Canetti won the Nobel Prize for Literature, but in the early 1960's he was a reclusive, enigmatic and relatively little-known writer living not far from Lutyens in the north of London. Die Befristeten—literally, "the deadlined"—portrays a fictional society whose citizens progress through life knowing exactly when they will die: at birth, each individual is allotted a specific lifespan by the State, and named by the number of years he or she will live. The play examines how a constant awareness of one's relative position along the temporal arc between birth and death would affect not only individual but social behaviour. For example, the parents of a boy named Ten do not bother to educate their son or provide him with moral guidance because he will not live beyond childhood. A young man named Eighty-Eight works towards his lifetime goal of twenty wives by marrying only women with names in the low Twenties. The mother of a boy named Seven does not grieve at his funeral because she had always known how long he would live. But despite these seemingly aberrant behaviours, it is a relatively peaceful society: a guaranteed date of death allows individuals to 42. Jane Manning, New Vocal Repertory: An Introduction (Basingstoke: Macmillan, 1986), 207. 17 plan their lives accordingly, and there is little else in life to fear i f one cannot die before the appointed "moment" (Augenblick). Furthermore, acts of violence are pointless in a world where an intended victim's time of death is predestined and inalterable. One skeptical character named Fifty suspects, however, that the State's control of death is a hoax designed to maintain social order and consolidate its own power. The central plot follows Fifty's attempts to prove his theory and restore to the public an equality that had been lost to them: the equality of an uncertain length of life. Fifty successfully instigates political revolution, but in the aftermath realizes to his horror the price of this sought-after equality and freedom. Death can now arrive at random, even as an instrument of human hatred, and violence and fear begin to seep back into the collective consciousness. Canetti emigrated to Britain in 1938, but wrote throughout his life in German. Die Befristeten's world premiere took place at the Oxford Playhouse in November, 1956, in an English translation by Canetti's friend Carol Stewart entitled The Numbered. The director of the production was Minos Volanakis (1925-99).43 Elisabeth Lutyens met Volanakis in 1959 when she was commissioned to compose incidental music for his Oxford production of Euripides' The Bacchae, the first of several theatrical collaborations between the two. Volanakis introduced Lutyens to Canetti and his play. She writes in her autobiography: 43. The play was not performed in its original German until November, 1967, at the Kleines Theater in der Josefstadt, Vienna. There is a second published English translation of Die Befristeten by Gitta Honegger, who translates the title as Life-Terms. See Elias Canetti, Comedy of Vanity and Life-Terms, translated by Gitta Honegger (New York: Performing Arts Journal Publications, 1983), 105-56. In 1965, an abridged version of the play was produced by Cologne radio, with incidental music for jazz quintet by Bemd Alois Zimmermann. Canetti discusses this production in a published interview; see Elias Canetti with Manfred Durzak, "Akustische Maske und Maskensprung: Materialen zu einer Theorie des Dramas. Ein Gesprach," Zu Elias Canetti, edited by Manfred Durzak (Stuttgart: Ernst Klett, 1983), 26. Zimmermann himself writes about his music for Canetti's play in "Gedanken uber Jazz: Einfuhrung zu 'Die Befristeten,'" Bemd Alois Zimmermann: Dokumente und Interpretationen, edited by Wulf Konold (Cologne: Wienand, 1986), 81-83. There is no evidence that Lutyens was aware of this production, nor is there any apparent similarity between Lutyens's and Zimmermann's musical treatments of the play. 18 The most interesting and far-reaching contact we made through [Minos] was with Elias Canetti, the author and playwright, who had lived and worked for some twenty years in England, only recently (and mostly in Germany) achieving the fame he so deserves.. . . One mealtime—before meeting Canetti—Minos had kept the whole family absorbed with a description of The Numbered, one of Canetti's plays that he had produced at the Oxford Playhouse. This account stayed lodged in my mind, apparently forgotten for some seven years, to spring to consciousness, when needed, later.44 To be precise, The Numbered "sprang to consciousness" in 1965, after some significant turning points in Lutyens's life. One harrowing night in April , 1962, she awoke to find her husband in the throes of coronary thrombosis. Powerless to help, she watched him die before medical help could arrive. Through the months and years to follow, the problem of death occupied her, both emotionally and intellectually: . . . my private desolation increased rather than diminished as the shock wore off and reality returned. I can now understand why some animals and human beings die soon after the death of their mates. I felt this might have been my lot if I had not been an artist and, as such, committed—or condemned—to life. Nevertheless, I seemed to go hungrily through the many beliefs men have created to give them the courage to face death. When I heard I was to be a grandmother, for a split-second I believed Edward was returning to me in this new, happy form (which I think is a Polynesian faith). But 44. Lutyens, A Goldfish Bowl, 260-1. 19 I discarded all, as soon as thought of, for I could not allow my cowardice to accept a religion as a comforter or a belief as wish-fulfilment. . . . It was in working—during which I had always been alone—that I sought relief.45 Indeed, in the years following 1962 the problem of death periodically emerges as a compositional theme, not only in The Numbered, but also in works such as Time Off? Not a Ghost of a Chance! (1968), Lament oflsis on the Death of Osiris (1969), and the 1971 chamber work Driving Out the Death for oboe and string trio. The other significant change in Lutyens's life was that her children were now grown and independent. She wrote: With Conrad [her youngest son], back from India, in a job, I was now freed from dependants and dared take the risk—so long contemplated—of tackling the one medium I had as yet not tried—opera. It would be a risk for I knew I would get no commission and it would involve years of unpaid work. Granted I had made such beginnings as The Pit, Penelope [an unfinished radio opera] and Infidelio, the non-staging of the first in England and non-performance of the other two was hardly an encouragement. At my age, and with my living to earn, I wanted a subject that would obsess me, not just the 'good for opera' story. In that anonymous limbo of time induced by a taxi ride there suddenly re-entered my mind Minos's account of the Canetti play that had so absorbed us years ago 4 6 45. Ibid, 286. 46. Lutyens, A Goldfish Bowl, 296. 20 From Volanakis, she acquired a copy of Carol Stewart's English translation of Die Befristeten that had served as the basis for his production of The Numbered nine years earlier: "I knew at first glance," she wrote, "that I had found the idea to obsess me." 4 7 With Canetti's permission, she drafted a libretto and submitted it for his approval. After he had read her draft, Lutyens passed it on to Volanakis along with Canetti's written comments, and Volanakis completed the libretto. She began composing the music on Christmas Eve, 1965. On the 13th of November, 1967, Lutyens wrote to her former student, composer Brian Elias: "The opera was finished last Sunday—after nearly two years. At the moment I'm depressed about it and it may [be] the greatest white elephant,—but I had to do it and it's done."48 Lutyens's pessimism about the opera's future notwithstanding, the possibility of staging The Numbered engendered enthusiasm among several English musicians. In the late 1960's, an informal recording of the opera with piano accompaniment was made at the London home of pianist Susan Bradshaw, with Bradshaw at the piano, Jane Manning singing some of the female roles, and composer-journalist Anthony Payne, Manning's husband, in the audience.49 Payne, in his New Grove article on Lutyens, later described The Numbered as "one of [her] finest achievements and the climax to the period of purity of language," adding that "it drew some of her most powerful music."5 0 In 1971, Bradshaw wrote of The Numbered that "like all good operas, this one is an extension of symphonic music, in that it provides a three-dimensional illustration of musical arguments sufficient in themselves. But, like all good operas, it cries out for a stage performance: conceived in terms of the stage, it 47. Ibid. 48. Letter to Brian Elias, B L Add. Ms. 71114. 49. Jane Manning and Anthony Payne, interview with author, 14 April 2000; Susan Bradshaw, letter to the author, 25 November 2000. According to Manning and Bradshaw, the tape has been lost. 50. Payne, New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians, 11:376. 21 can only have a half-life of its own, until interpreted in theatrical reality." 5 1 Later, Bradshaw and Richard Rodney Bennett wrote that "a performance of The Numbered is long overdue: with sympathetic, imaginative direction and sufficient funds, it should prove a genuinely exciting theatrical experience." Another who agreed with Payne, Bradshaw and Bennett was British conductor Leon Lovett, who had founded the New Opera Company (NOC) in 1957 for the express purpose of producing world or British premieres of contemporary operas.53 Lovett met Lutyens at the Cheltenham Festival in the late 1960's and became fascinated by her account of The Numbered. Subsequently, he played through the score with her, and this experience of the music convinced him that the NOC had to produce The Numbered. He began lobbying for financial and administrative backing to produce the opera, a process that extended over several years but was ultimately unsuccessful. According to Lovett, there were several factors that worked against production of The Numbered. First, the costs of rehearsing eighteen solo singers and a large orchestra, all of whom would have to be highly-skilled given the difficulty of Lutyens's music, would be prohibitive. Secondly, in the British socio-economic climate of the early 1970's, it would have been difficult to secure Arts Council funding for a venture perceived to be "elitist."54 Lovett does not believe that gender was a 51. Susan Bradshaw, "The Music of Elisabeth Lutyens," The Musical Times 112 (July, 1971), 655. 52. Bradshaw and Richard Rodney Bennett, "The Stage Works of Elisabeth Lutyens," Tempo 120 (March, 1977), 48. 53. Until the British Arts Council withdrew its funding support in 1984, the N O C played a unique and important role in the London operatic world during its 27-year existence. See Robert D. Hume and Arthur Jacobs, "London," The New Grove Dictionary of Opera, edited by Stanley Sadie, Vol . 3 (London: Macmillan, 1992), 20-21. 54. Leon Lovett, interview with author, London, 16 November 1998. In a letter to Brian Elias dated August 13, 1970, Lutyens wrote, "The New Opera Company is not to do The Numbered, but three performances of Time March (cost £7,000*!!) English Opera Company in financial straits so, according to [?] Graham, 'a fascinating work' cannot see doing in immediate future." B L . Add. Ms. 71114, f. 63. 22 factor in the NOC administration's unwillingness to produce The Numbered. Certainly, the NOC did produce two smaller-scale Lutyens works: Time Off? Not a Ghost of a Chance! premiered successfully in London at Sadlers Wells in March 1972, and was revived during the following year along with the premiere of Infldelio. The latter was itself revived in 1977. Over its history, the NOC produced works by other female composers as well, including Thea Musgrave, Elizabeth Maconchy, Phyllis Tate, and Nicola LeFanu. 5 5 At least one other effort towards a premiere of The Numbered came from Lutyens herself. Some time after she completed the opera's orchestration, Sir Georg Solti, then at Covent Garden, visited Lutyens at her London flat to discuss the possibility of producing The Numbered and listen to various extracts played by a pianist who was "a good sight reader."56 Nothing came of the meeting, and nothing is known of Solti's reaction. Covent Garden did produce new operas in the late 1960's, including a disastrous 1968 production of Humphrey Searle's twelve-tone Hamlet?1 British composer Robert Saxton, a former student of Lutyens, believes that The Numbered was rejected in favour of Michael Tippett's opera The Knot Garden, which premiered at Covent Garden in 1970. If Lutyens's meeting with Solti about The Numbered took place after the Searle debacle, it would not be surprising that Covent Garden would be reluctant to take on another "heavy" twelve-tone opera. Eventually, efforts to produce The Numbered were abandoned. Although at the time of its completion, Schott was Lutyens's publisher, they did not undertake the publication of a 55. Maconchy's The Sofa was produced in 1959, Phyllis Tate's The What D 'ye Call It in 1966, Musgrave's The Decision in 1967, and LeFanu's Dawnpath in 1977. New Grove Dictionary of Opera, 21. 56. Brian Elias, letter to the author, 8 September 2000. 57. Norman Lebrecht, Covent Garden, The Untold Story: Dispatches from the English Culture War, 1945-2000 (Boston: Northeastern University Press, 2001), 280. Lebrecht writes, "In an effort to appear with-it, two new operas were commissioned. . . Hamlet, by the deadly serialist Humphrey Searle, was abandoned half-way through its second performance when the Canadian baritone Victor Braun declared himself unable to sing another note." 23 score of the opera. In 1969, her relationship with Schott came to an end and she established her own company, Olivan Press, to publish and promote her music. She was successful in acquiring a grant to photograph the score of The Numbered, but did not have sufficient funds to take the printing process any further. After her death in 1983, the original autograph manuscript of the score went to the British Library, while the photographic negatives remained in a collection of Lutyens's scores eventually acquired by the University of York Music Press (henceforth referred to as UYMP) . Source Documents In 1996, U Y M P acquired the publication rights to dozens of Lutyens's compositions, including The Numbered, which nevertheless remained as a collection of negatives. In June, 1998, U Y M P agreed to produce for me a single, unbound copy of the 765-page full score, and this was followed in 2001 by a similar copy of the piano-vocal score. This dissertation's analytical work has been principally based on these documents. In addition, I have examined the original autograph score and other associated documents held by the British Library, including a draft libretto with Lutyens's handwritten notes, a series chart for the opera, and miscellaneous letters. The British Music Information Centre in London provided access to their collection of newspaper and journal articles, scores, and archival recordings. Other invaluable sources of information have been former associates and relatives of Lutyens, who have kindly responded to my requests for information through letters and/or personal interviews. These include: Leon Lovett, Jane Manning, Anthony Payne, Brian Elias, Robert Saxton, Susan Bradshaw, Alexandra Browning, Lutyens's former student and executor Glyn Perrin, and Conrad Clark, the son of Elisabeth Lutyens and Edward Clark. 24 Objectives and Organization of the Dissertation One of the primary objectives of this dissertation is to familiarize the reader with aspects of Lutyens's compositional style through structural analysis of The Numbered. Since neither the composer nor her work are well-known, the function of the dissertation is largely expository. Its introductory chapters thus include material of a musicological nature, regarding the pre- and post-composition history of the opera, and (in Chapter 2) the history and composition of its libretto. Chapter 2 first traces the libretto's origins, directly in Canetti's play Die Befristeten, and indirectly in Canetti's dramatic and philosophical ideas. It then considers the libretto itself as a composition, noting its modifications of the play by re-ordering and deleting entire scenes, as well as alterations in dialogue and character within scenes. Thematic relations between scenes will be observed along with some general musical aspects of such groupings as the use of orchestration and melodic motive. Chapter 3 introduces some basic aspects of voice and vocal characterization while Chapter 4 analyzes in detail the melodic characterization of the three principal roles—Fifty, his Friend, and the Keeper—in their opening scenes (Act I, Scenes 2 and 3). The analyses in this section take as a model Canetti's own theory of the acoustic mask, showing how Lutyens creates distinct vocal profiles for each character through her treatment of contour, rhythm, phrasing, and timbre. In order to give a layered perspective on the opera, and on Lutyens's compositional idiom, subsequent chapters are devoted to particular musical parameters such as Lutyens's serial language, treatment of rhythm, and so on. The analyses that instantiate and substantiate these discussions vary in the breadth of their attention: certain areas in the dissertation will consider issues of large-scale form, while others will focus more tightly on individual scenes 25 or passages. As in any study of an opera of this scale, it will not be possible to provide detailed analyses of every scene. Passages of the opera that are given detailed attention are chosen because they instantiate in some particularly salient way the stylistic aspects—serial language, rhythm, melodic contour, text-music interactions and so on—under consideration within a given chapter. In this spirit, Chapter 5 explores the use of serialism in The Numbered, beginning with a brief discussion of the origins and development of Lutyens's serial language. The opera's pitch structure is based—sometimes strictly, and sometimes loosely—on a twelve-tone row; examples will illustrate typical features of Lutyens's serial technique, both strict and free. The chapter demonstrates how certain passages are clearly governed by the row, while others use the row intermittently or perhaps not at all. Chapter 6 explores the treatment and significance of the row in the major choral scenes: the Trial Scene (Act I, Scene 11) and the Revolution in Act II. The Numbered offers an intriguing opportunity to explore how one composer's management of musical timespans—their conflicts, overlappings, misalignments, and even literal numberings—interweaves with a libretto that portrays society itself as the layered interaction of an infinitely variable number of life-spans, at various stages of completion. Chapter 7 begins to explore the definition and interaction of timespans through a study of rhythm and meter in the opera. The goal of this chapter is two-fold: first, to explicate the technical aspects of rhythm and meter in Lutyens's music; and second, to consider the ways in which they are used metaphorically in the opera to underscore particular dramatic themes and ideas. Chapter 8 examines in detail the rhythmic and metric design of the Funeral Scene (Act I, Scene 10). 26 The interaction of much broader timespans is considered in Chapter 9, which focuses on aspects of form. As Chapter 2 will demonstrate, the opera weaves together a multiplicity of more or less discontinuous strata, each composed of scenes linked to one another by various commonalities; some strata span almost the entire opera while others are only a single scene in duration. Chapter 9 concludes the dissertation's analytical discussion of The Numbered by examining whether and to what degree Lutyens's music reflects the libretto's structure of "discontinuous continuities": how musical continuity is established, disrupted and then resumed, often after long interruptions. The central agon of The Numbered is the struggle between acceptance of and resistance to numbering by the State; that is, between the State's attempt to impose its own reductive categorizations on its citizens and Fifty's fight against this "definition by the Other." Chapter 10 considers this conflict as it pertains not only to the opera's plot but to Lutyens's own acceptance of and resistance to musical "numbering." This is exemplified chiefly by her music's resistance against the control by tone rows (of any cardinality) that she herself has dictated. As I shall argue, however, The Numbered represents not only one composer's aesthetic ethos, but a powerful musico-dramatic statement on the aesthetics of modernism itself. 27 Chapter 2. The Origins and Structure of the Libretto. The Play: Elias Canetti and Die Befristeten Elias Canetti (1905-94) has been called "one of the great creative artists and seminal thinkers of the twentieth century."1 Born in Bulgaria of Spanish-Jewish descent, he spent his early life in England, Germany, Switzerland and Vienna, where he moved in 1924 as a university student. In 1929, he earned a doctorate in chemistry, but afterwards decided to pursue a literary career. In the early 1930's he wrote two plays, Hochzeit (Wedding, 1932) and Komodie der Eitelkeit (Comedy of Vanity, 1934).2 Canetti's first novel, Die Blendung (known in English as Auto-da-Fe or The Tower of Babel), was published in 1935. After Hitler's annexation of Austria in 1938, he and his wife Veza emigrated via Paris to London, where they settled permanently. After his emigration from continental Europe, Canetti abandoned fiction and drama for nearly fifteen years. Moved by the horrors of the war and the Holocaust, he became absorbed instead in the problem of crowds: how and why they form; how they grow, change, and disintegrate; but most importantly, how individuals attain and wield power over the masses, even the power of life and death. He published his conclusions in his landmark 1960 work Masse und Macht, translated into English and published two years later as Crowds and Power? In later life, he wrote several books of notes and aphorisms, and three 1. Thomas H. Falk, Elias Canetti (New York: Twayne, 1993), 158. 2. Elias Canetti, Hochzeit, Komodie der Eitelkeit, Die Befristeten. Dramen. Der Ohrenzeuge: Fiinfzig Charaktere. 1964. Munich and Vienna: Carl Hanser Verlag, 1995. Hochzeit and Komodie der Eitelkeit were not premiered until 1965, when both were performed at the Staatstheater in Braunschweig, Germany. 3. Elias Canetti, Masse und Macht (1960; Frankfurt: Fischer Taschenbuch Verlag, 2000). Published in English as Crowds and Power, translated by Carol Stewart (1962; New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1998). 28 autobiographical volumes.4 In 1981, he was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature "for writings marked by a broad outlook, a wealth of ideas and artistic power."5 Die Befristeten Canetti's third and last play, Die Befristeten (1953), was written during the time he was researching and writing Crowds and Power. Although Die Befristeten predates the later work by seven years, it is similarly consumed with the problem of death and survival. Susan Sontag calls Canetti "one of the great death-haters of literature,"6 and her assessment is borne out by this paragraph from one of Canetti's published collections of notes and aphorisms: I do not acknowledge death in any form. Thus all who have died are for me still alive, not because they have any claims on me, or because I fear them, or because I might think that some part of them has gone on living, but simply because they never should have died. A l l the dying up to the present was nothing but judicial murder, carried out thousands and thousands of times and for which I cannot find any legalization. 4. Elias Canetti, Die gerettete Zunge: Geschichte einer Jugend. (1977; Munich and Vienna: Carl Hanser Verlag, 1994). Published in English as The Tongue Set Free: Remembrance of a European Childhood. Die Fackel im Ohr: Lebensgeschichte 1921-1931 (Munich and Vienna: Carl Hanser Verlag, 1980). Published in English as 777e Torch in My Ear, trans. Joachim Neugroschel (London: Andre Deutsch, 1989). Das Augenspiel: Lebensgeschichte 1931-1937 (1985; Munich and Vienna: Carl Hanser Verlag, 1994). Published in English as The Play of the Eyes, 1985), trans. Ralph Manheim (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1986). 5. Cited in Boston Globe, 16 October 1981. 6. Susan Sontag, "Mind as Passion," Essays in Honor of Elias Canetti (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1987), 97. 7. "Ich anerkenne keinen Tod. So sind mir alle, die gestorben sind, rechtens noch lebendig, nicht weil sie Forderungen an mich haben, nicht weil sie fiirchte, nicht weil ich meinen konnte, dafi etwas von ihnen noch wirklich lebt, sondern weil sie nie hatten sterben durfen. Alles Sterben bis jetzt war ein vieltausendfacher Justizmord, den ich nicht legalisieren karrn." Both German and English are found on facing pages in Elias Canetti, The Agony of Flies: Notes and Notations, translated by H. F. Broch de Rothermann (New York: Noonday Press, 1994), 80-81. 29 Canetti's concept of death as "judicial murder" is taken literally in Die Befristeten, the story of a fictional dystopia where the date of each citizen's death is decreed by the State on the day of his or her birth. The play explores how this legislation of death affects not only the individual's approach to the future, but how individuals are valued by other members of society. Synopsis In the society of Die Befristeten, the State issues each newborn child a locket containing his or her dates of birth and death. The locket must be worn constantly, and is sealed in such a way that it can only be opened by the state official known as the Kapselan, or Keeper of the Lockets. The Keeper is summoned to every deathbed to open the locket of the deceased and confirm—as he invariably does—that he or she died on the correct day. Citizens are named in this society by the number of years in their state-appointed lifespan. Because of this naming system, one's lifespan is public knowledge, and as noted in Chapter 1, the play explores how citizens use this knowledge to prudently manage the amount of time and attention they invest in each other. However, it is a criminal offence to reveal one's birth date. Thus one's exact date of death, known as one's "moment," is kept strictly private, preventing others from knowing precisely when one will die. This secrecy precludes certain parasitic last-minute manipulations by others (such as marrying someone the day before their death in order to inherit an estate). It has also helped to eradicate murder, for i f people can only die at their moment, any attempt at murder is pointless: it fails when the moment is wrong, and succeeds only when the moment is right, that is, when the act is redundant. The word "murder" has therefore been redefined to refer to the equally heinous 30 crime of stealing, discarding or destroying a locket. But as Fifty correctly intuits from the beginning of the play, the secrecy surrounding one's dates of birth and death primarily serves to protect the State's apparent infallibility in the event that someone dies on the wrong day. One obvious question raised by Canetti's plot is how the State ensures that its citizens die on or at least plausibly near their moment. Perhaps we are to infer that the State secretly executes those who have the impertinence not to die on their appointed day, but how can it possibly prevent its citizens from dying too early, from illness or accidental injury? In the first discussion between Fifty and the Keeper, Fifty asks what would happen if someone were involved in a railway accident before their moment. To the Keeper's reply that nothing will happen to him, Fifty asks how that is possible. The Keeper answers, "That, precisely, is my concern," and quickly changes the subject. Unfortunately from an aesthetic standpoint, Canetti never answers this question for his audience; rather, we are required to suspend disbelief in order to focus on the drama's central concern, which is the psychological effect of knowing one's date of death in advance. That is, for the State to decree a death sentence on another human being is as murderous an act as pulling a trigger, because it forces people to live as if they were already dead. In Fifty's opening scene, he debates the validity of the system with his Friend. The Friend counters Fifty's expressions of skepticism with examples of family members who died at the "right time." He tells Fifty the poignant story of his little sister, Twelve, whose death he still mourns thirty years later. In the next scene, Fifty questions the Keeper, who warns Fifty 8. A note in Lutyens's hand on the typescript libretto reads "Frank's idea: people die because they've been told they will—hysteria." B L . Add. Ms. 64446. "Frank" is probably Frank Hauser, the producer with whom Volanakis was staying when Lutyens conceived the idea of basing an opera on The Numbered. Lutyens, Volanakis and Hauser had worked together on The Bacchae in 1959. 31 that he is well on his way to becoming a "murderer." Later, Fifty is the victim of a stone-throwing attack by the boy, Ten. His conversation with Ten about the way his parents have raised him perhaps motivates Fifty's behaviour in his next scene, when he disturbs the funeral of a young boy, Seven, to question the child's mother about her feelings. This disturbance leads to his arrest and public trial at the end of Part I. The trial scene opens in medias res: Fifty has already been found guilty by the Keeper. Proclaiming that Fifty's moment has come, the Keeper condemns him to the "public moment," i.e., execution. Fifty defies the Keeper, claiming at first that it is not his moment, and later, that he does not even believe in his moment. The people are outraged at this "blasphemy," and the Keeper demands that Fifty publicly recant. After daring the Keeper to let him live one more day, "to test whether one has to die at his moment, even if he doesn't believe in it," Fifty agrees to recant on one condition: that he be left in peace for the rest of the day, to die naturally at his moment. The Keeper assents. After Fifty has recited the words dictated to him by the Keeper, he is set free. He exits, and Part I closes with a litany between the Keeper and the Chorus. Part II begins the next day. Fifty is jubilant, having survived the night and thereby proven the fallibility of the Keeper. He is now determined to prove that the system is not simply fallible, but a deliberate, state-orchestrated lie. After a conversation with his Friend, he coerces two old women into giving up their lockets, threatening them with violence but ultimately succeeding by offering them new, magic lockets made of gold that will let them live even longer. After returning to his Friend's room, he smashes the old women's lockets to discover that they are empty. His Friend refuses to believe the implications, insisting that the old women must have given false lockets to Fifty. Fifty then smashes his own locket, and 32 forces his Friend to look inside. It is also empty. The Friend cannot help but believe now, but he is so disturbed by the shattering of the illusion that he can only feel hatred for Fifty. Fifty then seeks out the Keeper, confronting him with his knowledge and threatening to make his discovery public. The Keeper acknowledges that Fifty has discovered the truth, but claims he is not disturbed by his threats because Fifty's public recantation has destroyed his credibility. Undeterred, Fifty runs through the streets shouting that the lockets are empty. Revolution ensues, but the public proves unable to cope with its newfound wwcertainty in the face of death. Citizens with low names are exhilarated and irrational, believing that they can now live as long as they want. With their new sense of power over those who had been privileged with high names, they vent their long-suppressed resentment through violence. Their once-confident victims, who before the Revolution had been guaranteed a long life, now live in constant fear of death. Fifty returns to the Keeper to beg for advice—what can he do to reverse the damage? The Keeper replies that it is too late. There is no way of erasing from society its new consciousness of freedom and chance. They have eaten from the tree of knowledge and can never return to their pre-lapsarian state of innocence. In the play's final scene, Fifty once again encounters his Friend, whose emotional trauma has metamorphosed from anger and hatred to something that may or may not be madness: he now claims that his sister Twelve did not die, but simply disappeared. He believes that she is still alive and in hiding somewhere, and he is resolved to find her. Fifty tries to dissuade him, pointing out that if she is still alive, she is no longer a child but a middle-aged woman who has made a life for herself that it would be cruel to disturb. The Friend refuses to be discouraged, and the play ends with a restatement of his determination to find her. 33 Canetti's Dramatic Theories Surprisingly, given that he published only three plays in his lifetime, Canetti considered himself essentially a dramatist.9 But as critics Peter Laemmle and Thomas Falk have both observed, the accuracy of this self-assessment depends on a broadening of the definition of what constitutes the dramatic. Laemmle points out evidence of Canetti's dramatic imagination in particularly vivid scenes from his novel Auto-da-Fe, and in sketches of everyday life that appear in his books of notes and aphorisms.10 Falk observes that Canetti "performed" excerpts from Auto-da-Fe and other character sketches in public readings.11 In this practice, Canetti emulated—on a more modest scale—the legendary public readings, or Theater der Dichtung, of the highly influential Viennese satirist Karl Kraus (1874-1936). As a young man, Canetti attended many of these readings, and in interviews and autobiographical writings acknowledged Kraus's profound influence on his dramatic theories. The title of Canetti's second autobiographical volume, Die Fackel im Ohr (1980), refers to Kraus's periodical Die Fackel, and Kraus's influence on Canetti's hearing of the psychosocial nuances of language. This influence is particularly evident in Canetti's concept of the akustische Maske ("acoustic mask"). In a 1937 interview with Manfred Durzak, Canetti explained the meaning of the term: 9. "Above all else, I consider myself to be a dramatist and everything associated with dramatic work represents the nucleus of my personality." Interview with Elias Canetti and Friedrich Witz, 23 August 1968, Radio DRS, II. Programm, Studio Zurich. Translated and cited by Thomas H. Falk, Elias Canetti (New York: Twayne, 1993), 68. 10. Peter Laemmle, "The Power and Powerlessness of the Earwitness: The Dramatic in Canetti's Early Plays," Critical Essays on Elias Canetti, edited by David Darby (New York: G. K. Hall, 2000), 109. 11. Falk, Elias Canetti, 68. 34 Go to a pub, one in your neighbourhood for instance, sit down at any table, and make the acquaintance of a complete stranger. . . . Make no attempt to understand him, don't try to get to the bottom of what he means, don't try to empathize with him. Pay attention quite simply to the external form of his words. . . . It isn't enough to say: he speaks German, or he speaks in dialect . . . . No, his way of speaking is unique and unmistakable. It has its own pitch and tempo, it has its own rhythm. . . . Certain words and phrases recur again and again. His whole language consists of only 500 words. He manages quite expertly with them; those are his 500 words. . . . The shape he has taken in his speech demarcates him on all sides and differentiates him from all other people as clearly as does his physiognomy . . . . The linguistic shape of a human being, the things that remain constant in his speech, this language that came into being with him, that is his alone, and that will pass away only with him—that is what 12 I call his acoustic mask. Canetti's emphases on vocabulary, pitch, tempo, rhythm, and the "external form" of 12. Elias Canetti and Manfred Durzak, "The Acoustic Mask: Toward a Theory of Drama," in Critical Essays on Elias Canetti, edited and translated by David Darby (New York: G. K. Hall, 2000), 94. Emphasis added. The German original reads as follows: "Gehen Sie in ein Volkslokal, etwa das allbekannte O.K., setzen Sie sich an irgendeinen Tisch und machen Sie die Bekanntschaft eines Ihnen wildfremden Menschen. . . . Untemehmen Sie keinerlei Versuch, ihn zu verstehen, forschen Sie nicht nach dem, was er meint, fiihlen Sie sich nicht in ihn ein—achten Sie ganz einfach auf das AuBere seiner Worte.. . . Es geniigt nicht festzustellen: er spricht Deutsch oder er spricht im Dialekt. . . . Nein, seine Sprechweise ist einmalig und unverwechselbar. Sie hat ihre eigene Tonhohe und Geschwindigkeit, sie hat ihren eigenen Rhythmus. . . . Bestimmte Worte und Wendungen kehren immer wieder. Uberhaupt besteht seine Sprache aus nur funfhundert Worten. Er behilft sich recht gewandt damit. Es sind seine funfhundert Worte. . . . Er ist im Sprechen so sehr Gestalt geworden, nach alien Seiten hin deutlich abgegrenzt, von alien tibrigen Menschen verschieden, wie etwa in seiner Physiognomie . . . . Diese sprachliche Gestalt eines Menschen, das Gleichbleibende seines Sprechens, diese Sprache, die mit ihm entstanden ist, die er fur sich allein hat, die nur mit ihm vergehen wird, nenne ich seine akustische Maske." Elias Canetti and Manfred Durzak, "Akustische Maske und Maskensprung: Materialen zu einer Theorie des Dramas. Ein Gesprach," in Zu Elias Canetti, edited by Manfred Durzak (Stuttgart: Ernst Klett, 1983), 17-18. 35 speech, and his explicit warning against listening for meaning, make the acoustic mask virtually a matter of musical structure, as if one were listening to a solo violin sonata rather than the discourse of a human being. He emphasizes the sonic expressivity of language even further in his account of a Japanese Kabuki theatre presentation that he attended in Vienna. Although he did not understand a word of Japanese, he went every evening to hear the same play, over and over, remarking to Durzak of the experience that "it proved to me . . . that one can express, purely in sound, everything that goes on inside a human being."1 3 Canetti incorporated these ideas into his plays by devising distinctive "acoustic masks" for each of his characters. Nevertheless, the quasi-musical elements in Canetti's dramatic theories extend to matters of structural as well as strictly verbal organization. The presence of these elements is intriguing given his involvement with the contemporary art music world of Vienna in the late 1920's and 1930's. One of Canetti's many musical acquaintances was Hermann Scherchen, one of the principal conductors of Second Viennese School music between the wars.14 Canetti writes in his autobiography of attending a Strasbourg contemporary music festival in 1933 as Scherchen's personal guest, where he listened to concerts and participated in discussions with the composers and musicians. In the early 1930's, he also became friends with Alban Berg. 1 5 There is no indication in Canetti's memoirs that he ever met Arnold Schoenberg, who had moved to Berlin in late 1925. Nevertheless, Canetti's dramatic theories do bear striking 13. Canetti, "The Acoustic Mask," 96. The German original reads as follows: "Es hat mir . . . bewiesen, da(3 man auf rein akustische Weise uberhaupt alles ausdriicken kann, was in einem Menschen vorgeht." Canetti, "Akustische Maske," 20. 14. Ibid., 44-51. 15. Elias Canetti, Das Augenspiel, 215-219. 36 resemblances to Schoenberg's own theories of the "musical idea," as I will shortly demonstrate. Why these resemblances exist—whether they arose from the common influence of Karl Kraus, 1 6 or Canetti absorbed elements of Schoenberg's thought through his conversations with Berg, Scherchen, and other musicians—is not a question of direct relevance to this dissertation. But insofar as these "music-structural" elements of Canetti's dramatic theories are directly manifested in the structure of Die Befristeten, they are relevant to certain aspects of The Numbered's libretto. These aspects of the libretto in turn raise interesting questions regarding Lutyens's compositional response to them: to what extent (if any) does the musical structure of the opera relate to the quasi-musical elements of the libretto? Canetti's theoretical writings on drama remain unpublished, but accounts of his ideas can be found in several essays and articles by literary critics, most importantly the interview by Manfred Durzak cited above.17 The following discussion outlines the key components of these theories, including the Grundeinfall (basic idea), Abwandlung (variation), Entwicklung (development) and Umkehrung (reversal or inversion). Grundeinfall, Abwandlungen, Entwicklung Canetti maintained that the truly dramatic work of art was motivated not by character or plot, but by a particular Grundeinfall, or fundamental idea. 16. Schoenberg contributed on occasion to Die Fackel, and sent Kraus a copy of his 1911 Harmonielehre with the handwritten inscription: "I have perhaps learned more from you than one is permitted to learn if one wishes to remain independent." Cited by Alexander Goehr, "Schoenberg and Karl Kraus: The Idea Behind the Music," Music Analysis 4:1/2 (1985), 64. 17. Canetti and Durzak, "Akustische Maske," 17-30. "The Acoustic Mask," 93-108. 37 It is much more important to me that there be an idea—what I call the Grundeinfall, or basic premise. I would never begin a drama without a completely new Grundeinfall, one I am certain has never been used before. . . .What should happen is the following: I want to play variations [Abwandlungen] on this premise. The Grundeinfall is the intellectual [Geistige] component. The variations—which really take the form of storytelling—should be quite simple . . . . I am concerned with the richness of variations, how these variations come into being, so to speak, out of the play's form, how a crystal comes into being. . . . The audience should be struck first of all by the premise, which should be a remarkable one: that one knows when one is to die, as in Die Befristeten (The Numbered), or the idea that all mirrors are to be destroyed, as in Comedy of Vanity. That should give the listener a j o l t . . . . I would like the spectator himself to work with this premise, to complete the variations on the 18 theme just as i f he had been able to think them up for himself. From a music-theoretic point of view, it is difficult to conceive of Canetti's Grundeinfall without being reminded of Arnold Schoenberg's concept of the "musical idea," developed most fully in Der musikalische Gedanke und die Logik, Technik, und Kunst seiner 18. Canetti, "The Acoustic Mask," 100. The German original reads as follows: "Mir ist viel wichtiger, dafi ein Einfall, das, was ich den Grundeinfall nenne, vorliegt, wie ich auch nie ein Drama beginnen wurde ohne einen vollkommen neuen Grundeinfall, von dem ich iiberzeugt bin, daB er noch nie verwendet worden ist. . . . Was damit geschehen soli, ist folgendes: Ich will die Abwandlung dieses Einfalls. Der Einfall ist das Geistige. Die Abwandlung, was sich dann wirklich vollzieht im Spiel, soil ganz einfach sein. . . . es mir um einen moglichen Reichtum der Abwandlungen geht, die sich dann sozusagen aus der Form diese Abwandlungen ergeben, wie ein Kristall entsteht. . . . Der Horer, der das erlebt, soil zuerst von dem Einfall betroffen sein. Der Einfall soil merkwurdig sein: dafi man weiB, wann man sterben wird wie in den ,Befristeten,' oder der Einfall, daB all Spiegel zerstort werden in der .Komodie der Eitelkeit.' Das soli ihm zuerst einen AnstoB geben . . . . ich mochte, daB der Zuschauer selbst operiert mit diesem Einfall, daB er die Abwandlungen des Themas mitvollzieht, so als ob er sie sich auch selbst hatte denken konnen." Canetti, "Akustische Maske," 23-24. 38 Darstellung {The Musical Idea and the Logic, Technique and Art of its Presentation)}9 Although in Der musikalische Gedanke Schoenberg uses the German words Idee or Gedanke, in other manuscripts he does use the word Einfall, in its traditional sense of "inspiration." Schoenberg describes the Einfall as "a lightning-like appearance of extraordinary duration, which dissipates slowly and ends only a long time after it has fulfilled its purpose." Canetti's Grundeinfall and Schoenberg's Einfall are similar in that both serve as a more or less singular point of origin from which a new work is generated; but they differ in at least one important respect, and that is in the manner of their own generation. Schoenberg's "lightning" metaphor implies the spontaneous inspiration of the artist from "above," while Canetti's Grundeinfall seems consciously constructed as an intellectual or philosophical problem that at once motivates, and is explicated through, the dramatic structure. The Grundeinfall perhaps corresponds more closely to Schoenberg's concept of the The form of a work, according to Schoenberg, emerges from a fundamental Unruhe (unrest), a condition that results when "a state of rest is placed in question through a contrast."21 In the theme, however . . . the problem of unrest that is present in the motive or the fundamental gestalt [grundlegenden Gestalt] achieves formulation. This means that as the theme presents a number of transformations (variations) 19. Arnold Schoenberg, The Musical Idea and the Logic, Technique and Art of its Presentation, edited and translated by Patricia Carpenter and Severine Neff (New York: Columbia University Press, 1995). See also Charlotte Cross, "Three Levels of'Idea' in Schoenberg's Thought and Writings," Current Musicology 30 (1980), 24-36. 20. Schoenberg, "Inspiration," translated by R. Wayne Shoaf in "Schoenberg on Inspiration," Tenth Anniversary Bulletin of the Arnold Schoenberg Institute (1987): 3, 7. 21. Schoenberg, The Musical Idea, 103. 39 \Verwandlungen (Variationen)] of the motive, in each of which the problem is present but always in a different manner, the tonic is continually contradicted anew—and yet, through rounding off and through unification an 'apparent state of rest' is established, beneath which the unrest continues.22 Canetti's description of the reader's engagement with the Grundeinfall parallels Schoenberg's identification of "unrest" as a necessary and defining quality of the musical idea: "So first he gets jolted into the somewhat strange world, and then he makes himself at home in it by working out everything that happens." More striking is the central importance of the variation concept in both theories, although Canetti uses the word Abwandlungen ("modification" or "adaptation") while Schoenberg uses Verwandlungen, ("transformation" or "metamorphosis"). In both Canetti's and Schoenberg's theories, the problem, question, or state of unrest inherent in the fundamental idea is re-presented in different ways by each variation. The purpose of each variation is to "resolve" in some way the unrest as it is expressed in the context of the variation's given set of conditions. The resolution of each variation's unrest leads only to an "apparent state of rest," however, because the problem continues through the duration of the work and must be "solved" over and over again in each successive variation. 22. "In Thema aber . . . Gelangt das Problem der im Motiv oder der grundlegenden Gestalt vorhandenen Unruhe zur Formulierung. D.h.: Indem das Thema eine Anzahl von Verwandlungen (Variationen") des Motivs anfuhrt, in deren jeder ja das Problem, aber immer auf andere Art vorhanden ist, wird stets der Tonica aufs Neue widersprochen und dennoch—zur Abrundung und Vereinheitlichung eine ,scheinbare Ruhe' hergestellt unterhalb welcher die Unruhe weiter wirkt." Schoenberg, The Musical Idea, 106-07. Emphasis in the original. 23. Canetti, "The Acoustic Mask," 101. The German original reads as follows: "Er bekommt also erst einen StoB in die etwas fremde Welt und macht sie sich dann vertraut durch alles, was weiter geschieht." Canetti, "Akustische Maske," 24. 40 The furtherance of the musical idea . . . may ensue only if the unrest—problem—present in the grundgestalt or in the motive . . . is shown in all its consequences. These consequences are presented through the destinies of the motive or the grundgestalt. Just how the grundgestalt is altered under the influence of the forces struggling within it, how this motion to which the unrest leads, how the forces again attain a state of rest—this is the realization of the idea, this is its presentation.24 In essence, the Grundeinfall of Die Befristeten is the power exerted on the human psyche by our consciousness of mortality. Canetti constructs his hypothetical society in order to enact a thought experiment, with the stage as laboratory and the characters and plot as tools used to investigate the hypothesis. As in a scientific experiment, the basic principle cannot be fully understood from its behaviour under a single set of conditions. In the Abwandlungen, or variations, the playwright sets up certain conditions of character or plot in order to observe how the Grundeinfall expresses itself in that situation, just as a scientist—trained in chemistry as Canetti was, for example—might observe how certain chemical reactions are affected by manipulations of temperature or pressure. The relationship between the Grundeinfall and the Abwandlungen in Die Befristeten can be seen in the scene structure of the play. Tables 2.1a and 2.1b lay out the scenes of Parts I and II of Die Befristeten, respectively, with the original German scene titles in the left-hand column and the English translations in 24. Schoenberg, The Musical Idea, 221. Emphasis in the original. The original German reads as follows: "Die Weiterfuhrung des musikalischen Gedankens kann nur . . . so erfolgen, dass das in der Grundgestalt. resp. im Motiv enthaltene Unruhe—Problem . . . in alien seinen Konsequenzen gezeigt wird. Diese Konsequenzen sind dargestellt durch die Schicksale des Motivs oder der Grundgestalt. Wie sich die Grundgestalt verandert unter dem Einfluss der in ihr kampfenden Krafte. in dieser Bewegung in die die Unruhe ubergeht, auf welche 41 the right. The scenes are titled but not numbered in the play; numbers have been inserted on the tables for ease of reference. The main plot of Die Befristeten centres on the three principal characters of Fifty, his Friend, and the Keeper. This central plot is distributed over twelve "story" scenes, corresponding to the bold type on Tables 2.1a and b. Interrupting this narrative are ten additional scenes that involve subsidiary characters who in most cases appear only once in the play. These scenes function as case studies or exempla of the Grundeinfall by illustrating how different kinds of relationships—between lovers, family members, friends and colleagues—are affected by the characters' awareness of their own and each others' lifespans. In her handwritten notes to the opera, Lutyens referred to these scenes as "facet scenes," a term that aptly expresses how each one presents different aspects of and perspectives on a single idea.2 5 Synopses of all ten facet scenes can be found in Table 2.2. The interruptive structure of the play exemplifies another important aspect of Canetti's dramatic thought, namely his resistance towards the idea of dramatic development. I am against development [Entwicklung] in drama. For me drama functions beyond 26 time, and everything that introduces temporal sequence into drama is undramatic. Weise sie dann wieder zur Ruhe gelangen, das ist die Durchfuhrung des Gedankens. das ist seine Darstellung." Schoenberg, The Musical Idea, 226. 25. Elisabeth Lutyens, B L . Add. MS. 64445, f.3. 26. Canetti, "The Acoustic Mask," 106. The German original reads as follows: "Denn ich bin gegen die Entwicklung im Drama. Fur mich spielt das Drama uberhaupt jenseits der Zeit. Alles, was einen zeitlichen Ablauf im Sinne von Entwicklung ins Drama hineinbringt, ist fur mich undramatisch." Canetti, "Akustische Maske," 29. Die Befristeten The Numbered Prolog Uber die Alte Zeit Prologue About the Old Times Erster Teil: Parti: 1.1. Eine Mutter lauft hinter ihrem kleinen Jungen her A mother runs after her young son 1.2. Fiinfzig. Sein Freund Fifty. His friend. 1.3. Die Werbung The Courtship 1.4. Fiinfzig und der Kapselan Fifty and the Keeper Grossmutter und Enkelkind Grandmother and Granddaughter 1.5. Fiinfzig geht iiber die StraBe, da fliegt ihm ein Stein an den Kopf; dann folgt noch einer, ein dritter, ein vierter Fifty crosses the street, a stone flies and hits him on the head; there follows another, a third, a fourth 1.6. Zwei Kollegen Two Colleagues 1.7. Das Paar The Couple 1.8. Fiinfzig und eine Junge Frau beim Begrabnis ihres Kindes Fifty and a young woman at the funeral of her child 1.9. Die Jungen Herren The Young Men 1.10. Zwei Damen Two Ladies 1.11. Fiinfzig ist vor versammeltem Volke ausgestellt Fifty is publicly exposed at a gathering of the people 1.12. Die nachste Szene zwischen dem Chor der Unglcichen und dem Kapselan schliefit hier unmittelbar an The next scene between the Chorus of the Unequal and the Keeper follows immediately Table 2.1a. The Scenes of Die Befristeten, Part I. 43 Die Befristeten, Zweiter Teil The Numbered, Part II II. 1. Fiinfzig. Der Freund. Fifty. His friend II.2. Fiinfzig und zwei ganz alte Frauen Fifty and Two Very Old Women II.3. Fiinfzig. Der Freund Fifty. His friend II.4. Fiinfzig. Der Kapselan Fifty. The Keeper II.5. Fiinfzig auf der Strafie, wie ein Ausrufer, aber auch wie ein Besessener Fifty in the streets, like a town crier, but also totally obsessed II.6. Die Jungen Herren The Two Young Gentlemen II.7. Die Zwei Kollegen The Two Colleagues II.8. Kapselan und Fiinfzig The Keeper and Fifty II.9. Fiinfzig. Der Freund Fifty. His Friend Table 2.1b. The Scenes of Die Befristeten, Part II. 44 Scene Synopsis Prologue "Prologue About the O l d Times": Two men discuss a primitive society in which people never knew when they would die. I . l " A mother runs after her young son": Boy, "70" begs his mother, "32," to tell him how much time he has left with her before she dies. 1.3 "The Courtship": The beginnings of a romantic liaison between "Professor 46" and his female student, "43," who is in search of a mate with the "identical moment." 1.5 "Grandmother and Granddaughter": A n old woman tells a story about the old days to her granddaughter. 1.7 "Two Colleagues": One scientist tells another of his worries that he w i l l not be able to complete his life's work, implying that his life is coming to an end. His colleague refuses to listen. 1.8 "The Couple": A woman says good-bye to her lover, knowing that she w i l l die the next day. 1.10 "The Young Gentlemen": Two young men, "28" and "88," discuss their boredom with life, one wishing he could experience the excitement o f k i l l ing someone. 1.11 "Two Ladies": Two women discuss the relative merits o f men with "high" or " low" names. II.6 "The Young Gentlemen": The two young men from 1.10 express opposing reactions to the Revolution. II.7 "The Two Colleagues": A confrontation between the two scientists o f 1.7. Table 2.2. Facet Scenes in Die Befristeten. 45 Specifically regarding Die Befristeten, Canetti observed during the writing of the play: Everything about The Numbered is mysterious to me. . . . I fear immediate connections, as i f I were in the middle of a network of rigorous shalt-nots, which I offend with every new scene. To make up for my sins, I would have to devise a new scene each time, balancing the earlier one, i.e. outweighing it. 2 7 It is difficult to imagine a drama without "temporal sequence," and in the case of Die Befristeten, the temporally-evolving story of Fifty would seem to contradict these statements. From this perspective, the facet scenes of Die Befristeten have a dual purpose—first, as variations of the Grundeinfall, and second, as agents of discontinuity that deliberately interrupt the temporal flow of the main plot. But why this requirement to interrupt the temporal flow, preventing direct connections between the events of the plot? In Canetti's words on the Grundeinfall cited earlier, he remarks on his intention that the spectator "work with this premise" and "complete the variations on the theme just as if he had been able to think them up for himself." Elsewhere in the same interview, Durzak comments on his experience of attending a reading by Canetti of his play The Wedding. Canetti responds: 27. Elias Canetti, The Human Province, trans. Joachim Neugroschel (New York: Seabury Press, 1978), 140. The original German reads as follows: "Alles an den »Befristeten« ist geheimnisvoll fUr mich. . . . Ich fiirchte unmittelbare Zusammenhange, als ware ich inmitten eines Netzes von strengsten Verboten, die ich mit jeder neuen Szene ubertrete. Um gutzumachen, was ich so siindige, muBte ich jedesmal eine andere Szene erfmden, die die fruhere ausgleicht, namlich schwerer als sie wiegt." Elias Canetti, Aufzeichnungen 1942-1985: Die Provinz des Menschen, Das Geheimherz der Uhr (1972; Munich and Vienna: Carl Hanser Verlag, 1993), 187. 46 I am convinced that people are thinking things through while I am reading. Perhaps you would confirm that. That one, so to speak, runs a little way ahead, that some things then seem obvious, that one then wishes to pursue them further.28 It may be that Canetti's interruptions of the temporal flow of the plot are designed to allow time for this "running a little way ahead" on the part of the spectator, that his resistance to "immediate connections" is designed to induce spectators to work intellectually with the Grundeinfall themselves and "complete the variations" on their own. The frequent changes of scene and character produce more jolts-per-hour, so to speak, preventing the spectator from lapsing into a passive state of compliance with what is transpiring on the stage. Canetti, the Socratic chemistry professor, demonstrates an experiment but only in stages, requiring his "students" to hypothesize about its outcome at various stopping points along the way. For example, Part I of the play contains five story scenes and eight facet scenes. The fact that no two story scenes in Part I occur in direct succession exemplifies Canetti's stated desire to avoid "temporal sequence." Part II is quite different in this regard, however, with only two facet scenes and seven story scenes. The temporal flow of the plot involving Fifty is interrupted only once, the two facet scenes being played in succession. The "immediate connections" here may be allowed because the function of these scenes—particularly those leading up to the Revolution—is fundamentally different from those of Part I. Part I introduces the Grundeinfall and presents the "variations" to the spectator for intellectual 28. Canetti, "The Acoustic Mask," 101. "Ich bin uberzeugt davon, daB die Leuten mitdenken, wenn ich die Sachen lese. Das wiirden Sie vielleicht bestatigen. Da/3 man sozusagen ein wenig vorangeht, daB manches einem dann selbstverstandlich erscheint, daB man Lust hat weiterzugehen." Canetti, "Akustische Maske," 24. 47 engagement. The overall purpose of Part II is to explore how society changes after the Revolution, and this takes place in scenes II.6 through II.9. Scenes II. 1 through II.5 simply fill in the plot events necessary for the Revolution to take place; they do not function as variations of the Grundeinfall and therefore do not require the same degree of intellectual engagement by the audience. There is therefore no need to build in pauses for spectator reflection. Umkehrungen Tables 2.1a and b also demonstrate another of Canetti's key dramaturgical principles, that is, the concept of Umkehrungen, or reversal. In the structure of the dramas you will see that very often one scene corresponds to another, using the same characters but with the opposite outcome. . . . There are many instances of it in The Numbered. It is full of reversals 29 [Umkehrungen]. Although the interview's translator, David Darby, translates Umkehrungen as "reversals," Umkehrung is also a musical term for "inversion," particularly "invertible counterpoint." Where "reversal" suggests retrograde motion, invertible counterpoint involves an exchange of roles between two voices, and this interpretation also corresponds with 29. Canetti, "The Acoustic Mask," 106. The German original reads as follows: " A n dem Aufbau der Dramen werden Sie sehen, da(3 sehr oft eine Szene spater einer anderen entspricht mit denselben Examplen, aber mit einem entgegengesetzten Ablauf. . . Es gibt viele Beispiele dafur in den .Befristeten'. D a wimmelt es von Umkehrungen." Canetti, "Akustische Maske," 28. Canetti's use of Umkehrungen in Die Befristeten. As an example, Canetti himself cites the two scenes entitled "Die Jungen Herren" ("The Young Gentlemen"). The first of these scenes occurs in Part I, and the second in Part II, following the Revolution. The two young men, we learn in the later scene, are brothers named Twenty-Eight and Eighty-Eight. The "before-after" placing of the scenes is designed to show the audience how the societal change affects the relationship between the two characters: Twenty-Eight, once the more vulnerable brother, is now free to imagine a long life with endless possibilities, while Eighty-Eight now must live with the frightening knowledge that his years are no longer guaranteed. The Revolution has inverted the balance of power between the two brothers, vividly demonstrated in Twenty-Eight's assault on his brother at the end of the scene. The two scenes entitled "(Die) Zwei Kollegen" ("The Two Colleagues") have a similar relationship. In their first scene, the smug Second Colleague clearly dominates the First, who is worried about his impending death; after the Revolution, it is the First Colleague who now has the upper hand. The exchange of power between the two characters again makes itself felt in an outbreak of violence. Umkehrung on a broader scale occurs between Part I and the post-Revolutionary scenes of Part II, as a result of the Revolution itself. For example, comparing the end of Part I with the end of Part II, we notice that an exchange occurs between the positions of Fifty and the Keeper. In the final scene of Part I, Fifty is on trial, threatened by the powerful Keeper with a death sentence. In the post-Revolutionary facet scenes, we learn that the Keeper has been imprisoned and will stand trial before the people. In the dialogue scenes between Fifty and the Keeper, another kind of Umkehrung takes place. In the pre-Revolutionary scenes, although the Keeper was in a position of official authority with respect to Fifty, Fifty's 49 questions put the Keeper on the defensive and himself in a position of moral authority. In their last conversation, Fifty's confidence in his former sense of moral authority has been shaken; he begs the now powerless Keeper to tell him how he can reverse the damage he has done to society. (Even the order of their names in the scene titles is reversed in this penultimate scene of the play.) Umkehrung as "reversal" does occur, however, most notably between the scene pairs that begin and end the story scenes. The story scenes begin in Part I with Fifty's first scene with his Friend, followed immediately by his first scene with the Keeper; at the end of Part II, the two scenes exchange places. That is, the ordered scene pair <Fifty-Friend, Fifty-Keeper> that begins the story scenes becomes, at the end of the play, <Fifty-Keeper, Fifty-Friend>. With respect to the story scenes, the play ends where it began—with a dialogue between Fifty and his Friend. This creates a kind of retrograde "cadential" effect at the end of the opera, roughly analogous to the "I-V . . . V-I" convention of tonal harmony. The Acoustic M a s k in Die Befristeten Canetti used the device of the acoustic mask primarily in his first two plays, Hochzeit (1932) and Komodie der Eitelkeit (1934). He did not use acoustic masks to the same extent in Die Befristeten; in response to a question from Durzak about their relative absence in the later play, Canetti replied: "the idea in The Numbered is that the figures exist only in relation to their numbers. The life-number they possess is precisely the thing that distinguishes them. O A That goes beyond the acoustic mask." 30. Canetti, "The Acoustic Mask," 101. "Die Idee ist in den .Befristeten' die, daB die Figuren nur in bezug auf ihre Zahlen bestehen. Die Lebeszahl, die sie haben, ist eben das, was sie unterscheiden soli. Das geht uber die akustische Maske hinaus." Canetti, "Akustische Maske," 24. 50 Despite the relative lack of importance of acoustic masks to the language of Die Befristeten, the concept nevertheless bears on the play insofar as it reveals important aspects of Canetti's attitude towards character. A mask is an artificial face, one that represents certain basic features of the character but remains fixed throughout the duration of its use, regardless of its character's response to developments in the plot. Similarly, Canetti explicitly rejects the idea that character changes emerge gradually from causal, psychological factors, preferring instead a model wherein changes simply reflect the removal of one mask to reveal another, or the replacing of one mask with another: "The changes that characters undergo are sudden. That is what I call mask-switching [Maskensprung]."31 The playwright may choose at a particular moment to reveal a previously hidden aspect of a given character, but this does not mean that the character "develops" or changes in a temporally sequential way; merely that another layer has been exposed. Canetti uses as an example the way that human beings sometimes change their speech patterns to match that of the person they are speaking with, particularly if that person is of a higher class: the speaker has not undergone an essential psychological change, but simply put on a mask in order to appear the social equal of his or her companion.32 In Die Befristeten, the principle of "mask-switching" still operates despite the relative absence of the acoustic mask itself. For example, in the second scene of Part II, Fifty coerces two very old women into handing over their lockets to him. In Part I, Fifty seems to be the only wise man in the play and we identify positively with his efforts to free the people from 31. Canetti, "The Acoustic Mask," 107. The German original reads as follows: "Die Veranderungen von Figuren ereignen sich fur mich in Sprungen. Das ist, was ich den Maskensprung nenne." Canetti, "Akustische Maske," 29. 32. Canetti, "The Acoustic Mask," 107. Canetti, "Akustische Maske," 29. 51 their illusions. But in this scene from Part II, we see an unexpected and frightening cruelty in Fifty that undermines the moral authority of the play's putative hero. In Canetti's theory of "mask-switching," this sudden alteration in Fifty's personality should not be understood as a psychologically-motivated transformation resulting from the effects of external influences, but as the first revelation of a previously-hidden aspect of Fifty's character. Canetti's Dramatic Theories and the Libretto of The Numbered Whether and to what degree Canetti's dramatic theories affected the libretto or the music of The Numbered is an open question. There is no documentation in Lutyens's papers indicating that she was aware of his theories (although Volanakis, as director of the play's premiere, may have had some knowledge of them). Regardless of the question of conscious influence, there is no doubt that the aesthetic genealogy of Lutyens's opera is firmly rooted in the spirit of Viennese modernism, both literary and musical. Example 2.11 attempts to capture something of this network of influences in graphic form. Clark Karl Kraus Viennese Musical Modernism (Schoenberg, et al.) Canetti Lutyens's Music Die Befristeten Lutyens's The Numbered Example 2.11. A n Aesthetic Genealogy of Elisabeth Lutyens's The Numbered. 52 The leftmost box of the diagram is a rectangle representing the figure of Karl Kraus, whose literary, journalistic and quasi-theatrical activities influenced not only Canetti and Schoenberg (among others) but also Lutyens's husband Edward Clark. Canetti recalled of Clark: It was to be expected that he knew everything about the great musicians, about Mahler, Schoenberg, Berg, and Webern. But he also spoke about Karl Kraus and Nestroy, about Trakl and Brenner, Adolf Loos and the young Kokoschka; he named Peter Altenberg and Robert Musil. Their works were all represented in his library. When he led me to the years of Die Fackel and very unobtrusively revealed how sympathetic he was with them, he had won my heart completely. Lutyens states in her autobiography that the friendship between Clark and Canetti was "of special significance . . . as they found that they had many enthusiasms (such as for Karl Kraus) in common."3 4 As indicated by the arrows on Example 2.11, the dual influences of Kraus and Viennese modernist music in Example 2.11 extend outwards to Canetti, whose work strongly recalls that of Kraus and whose dramatic theories may have absorbed elements of music-theoretical thought of the time; the solid and dashed arrows represent stronger and lesser degrees of influence, respectively. These influences also extend outwards to Clark, with his extraordinary knowledge of the Viennese musical world and his direct acquaintance with its 33. Canetti, unpublished manuscript provided to the author by Conrad Clark. 34. Lutyens,^ Goldfish Bowl, 260-61. foremost composers. By the 1960's, Lutyens herself was well-acquainted with the Second Viennese School literature both directly from her own experience and indirectly through Clark. She also counted Canetti among her personal friends, although his influence on The Numbered was literary rather than musical. Given this network of connections and common aesthetic sympathies, the eventual meeting of Lutyens's music with Canetti's drama seems almost inevitable. The Libretto of The Numbered The libretto of The Numbered was based not directly on Canetti's original German-language version of Die Befristeten, but on the English translation by Carol Stewart that had served as the basis for Minos Volanakis's premiere production in 1956. It seems likely that Stewart, a member of the Canetti circle in the early 1950's and 1960's, was advised by Canetti himself on the translation of Die Befristeten: she also produced the English translation of Crowds and Power, and acknowledges Canetti's assistance on one of the 35 unnumbered preliminary pages of the translation. As we can reasonably take her translation of the play as an "authorized" one, the following discussion of the play's re-composition into a libretto will confine itself to the changes made by the librettists to this translation rather than to Canetti's original German. Tables 2.3a and b compare the layout of scenes in Canetti's play (the left-hand column) and in Lutyens's and Volanakis's libretto. As indicated by Table 2.3a, most of the structural modifications that were made to the play take place in the middle of the play's first 35. Elias Canetti, The Numbered, translated by Carol Stewart (London: Marion Boyars, 1984). Stewart's membership in the Canetti circle is noted in Peter J. Conradi, Iris Murdoch: A Life (London: Harper Collins, 2001), 354-55, 370-71. 54 The Numbered (Play), Part I The Numbered (Libretto), Act I Prologue About the O l d Times Prologue Part I Ac t I: A mother runs after her young son 1.1: Mother, "32" and Boy , "70" Fifty. His Friend. 1.2: Fifty and Friend The Courtship 1.3: Fifty and the Keeper Fifty and the Keeper 1.4: Courtship Grandmother and Granddaughter (omitted) Two Colleagues 1.5/6: The Couple/Two Colleagues The Couple Fifty and a young woman at the funeral of her child (delayed until after 1.9) Fifty goes across the street, a stone flies and hits him on the head; then another follows, a third, a fourth. 1.7: Fifty and Boy, "10" Two Ladies 1.8: Two Ladies The Young Gentlemen 1.9: Two Young M e n • . . . 1.10: Fifty and a Young Woman at the Funeral of Her Child Fifty before the assembled people. 1.11: Fifty is Publicly Exposed at a Gathering of the People The Keeper and the Chorus of the Unequal. The Keeper and the Chorus of the Unequal Table 2.3a. The Play and Libretto, Part/Act I. 55 The Numbered (Play), Part II The Numbered (Libretto), Act II Fifty. His Friend II. 1: Fifty and Friend Fifty and Two Very Old Women II.2: Fifty and Two Very Old Women Fifty. His Friend II.3: Fifty and Friend Fifty. The Keeper II.4: Fifty and the Keeper Fifty in the street, like a town crier, but also totally obsessed II.5: Fifty in the Streets, Like a Town Crier, But Also Totally Obsessed ~ Orchestral Interlude: The Revolution The Young Gentlemen II.6: Two Young Men The Two Colleagues II.7: Two Colleagues The Keeper and Fifty II.8: Fifty and Keeper Fifty. His Friend II.9: Fifty and Friend Table 2.3b. The Play and Libretto, Part/Act II. 56 half (Part I in the play or Act I in the opera). These modifications are of four types: changes in order, omission, addition, and amalgamation. Changes in Order In Act I of the libretto, several changes are made to the order of scenes. First, Act I, Scenes 3 and 4 (henceforth referred to in the format "1.3" and "1.4") reverse the original order of the Courtship scene and Fifty's first scene with the Keeper, so that Fifty's first two scenes proceed without interruption. Secondly, the scene between Fifty and the boy Ten is moved later in the act, so that three facet scenes—the Courtship, the Couple, and the Two Colleagues—are heard in succession. The remaining two facet scenes—Two Ladies and Two Young Gentlemen—follow the scene between Fifty and the Boy, so that Fifty's scene with the young mother at the funeral of her child leads directly into the resulting trial scene; the order of these two facet scenes is also reversed in the libretto, perhaps because the comic relief provided by the Two Ladies scene might compromise the seriousness of the funeral scene that immediately follows. Omission As in most transformations from a play into a libretto, The Numbered needed to be cut in order to fit the time constraints of opera. According to her son Conrad Clark, Lutyens wanted to cut much more than Canetti would allow. 3 6 In the end, most of the cuts involved a paring-down of dialogue. (The details of such excisions will be discussed throughout the dissertation where relevant to discussions of particular scenes.) One entire scene was 36. Conrad Clark, e-mail to the author, 5 May 2001. 57 omitted, however, and that is the sixth scene of Part I, in which a grandmother tells her granddaughter a story of life in the old days. Its primary function is to explain more fully certain aspects of the system such as the taboo against revealing one's age, but as these are sufficiently explained elsewhere, its omission does not cause significant difficulties for the opera. Addition Lutyens and Volanakis made one important addition to the opera: the orchestral interlude between II.5 and II.6 entitled "The Revolution." In Canetti's play, the action progresses directly from Fifty's ranting in the streets to the second scene involving the two young gentlemen, and the audience is left to reconstruct the revolution in their imaginations on the basis of the ensuing dialogues between subsidiary characters. Why Canetti declined to represent onstage what is arguably the dramatic climax of the plot is unknown. He may have felt that such an inevitably chaotic scene could not illuminate the Grundeinfall, adding only gratuitous excitement to the audience's experience of the play. But his autobiographical writings indirectly suggest that he may have believed it impossible to represent the full power of such an event on the stage. In Die Fackel im Ohr, Canetti recounts one of the experiences that ignited his fascination with crowds, his immersion in the violent crowd that stormed and burned the Viennese Palace of Justice on July 15, 1927, in a protest against the acquittal of several Nazi officers accused of killing some workers in Burgenland. A half-century after the event, Canetti describes the impossibility of expressing the experience in words: Even were I to assemble all the concrete details of which this day consisted for me, 58 bring them together hard and unadorned, neither reducing nor exaggerating—I could not do justice to this day, for it consisted of more. The roaring of the wave was audible all the time, washing these details to the surface; and only if this wave could 37 be rendered in words and depicted, could one say: really, nothing has been reduced. Evidently, Lutyens and Volanakis believed to the contrary that the Revolution could, and should, be included in the opera; after all, music can often convey what words cannot. Yet despite the use of the chorus it is not designated as a "scene" but an "orchestral interlude," heard in the darkness between the curtain's fall at the end of II.5 and its rise at the opening of II.6. The libretto for the interlude is taken from two scenes in the play: the First Colleague's account of the revolution in the sixth scene of Part II supplies the shouts of the revolutionaries, while dissenting voices counter with accusations of blasphemy and other phrases drawn from the earlier Trial Scene. The veiled portrayal of the Revolution represents a compromise between Canetti's outright omission of it and a full staging. The compromise (arguably an improvement) allows for a discharge of climactic excitement and the capacity of the audience's imagination to amplify the power and violence of the scene. Furthermore, as a purely dramaturgical solution, it allows the chorus to seem twice its actual size, since the "revolutionary" and "conservative" factions can each be represented by the entire chorus behind the curtain, without the need for division that would arise in a full staging of the scene. 37. Elias Canetti, The Torch in My Ear, translated by Joachim Neugroschel (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1982), 250. The riot took ninety lives. 59 Amalgamation One of the libretto's most intriguing modifications to the play is the amalgamation of the Act I scenes originally entitled "Two Colleagues" and "The Couple" into a single unit to which I shall refer as "Scene 5/6," or the "double" scene. Here the stage is divided into two halves, each side with its own set and characters. In Scene 5, a woman hints to her lover that this may be the last time they meet; we eventually learn that she is to die the next day. Scene 6 also involves two characters, one of whom is facing imminent death. These characters are male colleagues, presumably scientists, as the scene is set in a laboratory. The First Colleague expresses his worry that he will not finish his life's work and longs to confess to the Second that he is about to die, but the Second Colleague refuses to listen or sympathize, insisting that "one is born with a fixed capital of years; it is one's own fault if one lays it out badly." The "split-screen" treatment of these two scenes in the libretto may reflect Lutyens's many years of experience as a film composer by this point in her career, but it may also have deeper roots. Earlier, I noted that one of the three principal influences on Canetti's dramatic writing was Johann Nepomuk Nestroy, with whose plays Canetti had become familiar through Karl Kraus's readings. In Nestroy's play Das Haus der Temperamente (1837), the stage is divided into four apartments, two upper and two lower, each with its own set of 38 characters whose stories unfold simultaneously, sometimes interweaving with each other. In the recollections of Edward Clark cited earlier, Canetti refers to Clark's familiarity with Nestroy and notes the presence of his works in Clark's library. Although the opera was 38. Johann Nestroy, "Das Haus der Temperamente," Vol . 13 of Johann Nestroy: Samtliche Werke (Vienna and Munich: Jugend und Volk, 1979), edited by W. E. Yates. 60 written after Clark's death, it is possible that Lutyens had been aware of Nestroy's practice of the split stage from conversations with Clark during the course of their marriage, from Canetti himself, or from reading Clark's copies of Nestroy's plays. The double scene also highlights an important addition to the play by the librettists: stage directions. Canetti's play is almost devoid of stage directions and contains no 3Q specifications as to sets. A l l such specifications in the libretto are therefore the contributions of Lutyens and Volanakis. In the play, the lovers could be anywhere, but the libretto ensures a sense of intimacy for the scene by setting it in the man's bedroom. At one point midway through the scene, it also includes the stage direction, "They dress in silence," lest there be any thought that the two lovers had been putting up bookshelves. Similarly, while Canetti does not specify the setting or even the occupations of the zwei Kollegen, the libretto sets this scene in a laboratory, suggesting that they are research scientists of some kind. The intercutting of these two scenes into one unit highlights not only the parallels between the two scenes but their reversals and oppositions. The intimate, subjective setting of the bedroom is opposed by the clinical, objective setting of the laboratory. In each scene, the desire of one character to reveal his or her imminent death is greeted by an opposite reaction from the partner: the male lover insists that the woman reveal the secret that troubles her, while the second colleague responds to his laboratory partner with cold disinterest, 39. In this regard, the play exemplifies Karl Kraus's distinction between literary and stage drama (Buchdrama and Biihnendrama, respectively): "[Kraus] considered literary drama to be great literature (Dichtung); the dramatist's ideas and the language he used to express them were of primary importance. . . . Kraus now relegated the actor to such stage plays only and rid what he considered to be literary drama of all externals, including the actors, who, in such dramas, had become mere decoration. Kraus reduced and internalized literary drama to ideas and language only, which could be properly appreciated by the reader alone: the reader's mind and imagination were to be the performer and interpreter." Kari Grimstad, Masks of the Prophet: The Theatrical World of Karl Kraus (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1982), 55. 61 shutting down the first colleague's attempts at self-revelation. The mutual interruption of these scenes also reenacts on a smaller scale the discontinuities of the main story line involving Fifty. This interweaving of discontinuous continuities can be found throughout the libretto at various levels of scale, a point to which I will return shortly. Other Modifications The previous paragraphs have dealt with the libretto's modifications to the play's original scene structure. But additional modifications take place within individual scenes or scene groups. Most of these involve cuts or minor changes in dialogue, but in the before-and-after pair of scenes with the two young men (1.9 and II.6), the librettists make a significant alteration. In 1.9, the two brothers, referred to in the score simply as "First Young Man" and "Second Young Man," complain about their boredom with life as they play a round of snooker (again, an addition of the librettists). The First Young Man longs for the excitement of the old days, when one could attack another man and actually succeed in killing him. The suppression of his natural aggressive instincts is causing an accumulation of pressure that demands to be purged in some way more satisfying than sinking balls into pockets. In Canetti's play, when these two characters return after the Revolution, the Second Young Man (who we now learn is named Twenty-Eight) tells of his jubilation: he can now look forward to at least the possibility of a long life. By contrast, the First Young Man, whom we now learn is named Eighty-Eight, is greatly disturbed because he must now live with the fear that death could arrive at any moment. The Second Young Man becomes the aggressive one, finally expressing his years of resentment over the privileges Eighty-Eight 62 had because of his name (particularly attention from young women). We also learn for the first time that they are brothers, as the scene ends with the following exchange: Second Young Man. No, but I've had enough of your calling the tune. I've had enough, enough, enough. First Young Man. Who would have thought that you are my brother? Second Young Man. Yes, who would have thought it when you were called Eighty-Eight and I Twenty-Eight?40 The First Young Man objects to the Second's aggression as unbrotherly behaviour, but for the Second, their brotherhood simply aggravates the sting of the unequal treatment they have received throughout their lives. In the libretto, 1.9 unfolds as in the play. But in II.6, the post-Revolutionary scene, the roles of the two young men are reversed: it is the First Young Man who is Twenty-Eight and the Second who is Eighty-Eight. In other words, rather than the role of aggressor switching from the First Young Man to the Second, the later scene carries to fruition the latent violence expressed in the earlier scene by the First Young Man. As a result of the Revolution, the First Young Man now has the opportunity to live out his fantasies of violence, and his built-up resentment provides him with the motivation to lash out at the Second, who we now learn is his brother. This leads to the libretto's second important modification of this scene. In the play, the scene ends with the Second Young Man's rhetorical question ("Yes, who would have thought it when you were called Eighty-Eight and I Twenty-Eight?"); there are no stage 40. Elias Canetti, The Numbered, translated by Stewart, 89. 63 directions of any kind. In the libretto, however, where the First Young Man is Twenty-Eight and the Second Eighty-Eight, a stage direction is included in II.6 indicating that the First Young Man should strike the Second, bringing him to the ground. The libretto's second scene involving the two young men thus develops psychologically from the first, the rising line of tension that extends from the first scene reaching a climax in the act of violence that closes the second. As in the opera's representation of the Revolution, development is allowed to culminate in a moment of structural climax. The First Young Man's assault on his brother in the opera also foreshadows the actual onstage death that will end the immediately following scene, that is, the second scene involving the Two Colleagues (II.7). In 1.6, the First Colleague is clearly dominated by the Second, who at the end of the scene accuses him of cowardice. In II.7, the First Colleague has been freed from his fear of imminent death, while the Second has lost the certainty he once had of a long lifespan. At the beginning of II.7, the First Colleague tells the Second about his involvement in the Revolution, and how, like the rest of the crowd, he tore off his locket and threw it away. He soon realizes that the Second Colleague has not yet thrown away his own locket, and demands that he immediately take it off and destroy it, threatening to kill the Second Colleague i f he does not comply. After a struggle between the two men, the Second Colleague capitulates and hands over his locket to the First. This is not enough for the First Colleague, who commands the Second to stamp on his locket and crush it. Shaking with fear, the Second Colleague finally obeys and then immediately collapses on the stage, dead. In the pre-Revolutionary world of The Numbered, one's lifespan was literally encapsulated in the locket. The Second Colleague's death within seconds of his locket's destruction vividly demonstrates the psychological power of the old belief system. At the end 6 4 of II.6, the First Young Man strikes his brother without causing his death, while at the end of II.7, the First Colleague effectively "murders" the Second without having delivered a single physical blow. Additional Settings and Stage Directions The settings of these scenes, in a bedroom, a laboratory, and around a snooker table, respectively, are just a few of the libretto's added specifications of sets and stage directions. Some of these are implied by the dialogue of the original play, as in I . l , where the libretto's indication "a large tree, centre stage" arises from the Mother's pleas to the Boy to come down out of a tree. Other added specifications, however, are more imaginative, such as those in the scenes involving Fifty and the Keeper. Prior to the Revolution, Fifty meets the Keeper in three scenes. His private dialogues with the Keeper (1.3 and II.4) take place in the Keeper's office; in the Trial Scene (I.l 1) their debate is public. After the Revolution, Fifty's sole encounter with the Keeper takes place in prison, where the Keeper has been incarcerated by the people. A l l of the private conversations between Fifty and the Keeper take place in a closed room that in some sense is the Keeper's territory. But in the post-Revolutionary scene (II. 8), the office—a room for the exercise of authority—has been transmuted into a prison cell, symbolizing the Keeper's fall from absolute power to absolute powerlessness. The libretto's designated setting of these scenes emphasizes visually the Umkehrung implied in Canetti's play through dialogue alone. The principle of Umkehrung is exemplified in other ways between the prison cell scene and the Trial Scene. At the end of Act I, the Keeper, as all-powerful judge, found the defendant Fifty guilty of blasphemy; here, in the opera's 65 penultimate scene, Fifty has become the people's champion and the Keeper awaits his own trial at the hands of the people. The settings of two other scenes play in different ways with the self-consciousness of the audience. The first of these is 1.4, "The Courtship." This scene consists of a dialogue between a male professor, Dr. Forty-Six, and his female student at a string quartet recital. The opening stage direction reads, " A chamber music concert. String quartet players seating on platform quietly tuning and settling themselves. Low conversation. Man, Woman are sitting in two back seats. Lights dim." After a brief segment of spoken dialogue between the Man and Woman, members of the audience hush the couple and the string quartet performs what is clearly a parody of the first movement of Schoenberg's 4th String Quartet (see Examples 2.1a and b). 4 1 At its completion, the onstage audience applauds and the quartet exits for the Active intermission, during which the rest of the dialogue takes place. The string quartet then re-enters and performs a second work, as i f beginning the second half of the recital. The idea of audience involvement is taken even further in 1.8, the so-called "Interlude" involving the Two Ladies. The opening stage direction of 1.8 reads as follows: "The following scene could be played either in one of the opera house boxes suitably lit or in a set extending the auditorium boxes onto the stage itself. The house lights might be up during this interlude. There should be the strongest suggestion that the two ladies belong to the audience, as well as the drama." There is no second audience here, but the implication that the two female characters belong to the real audience implicates the audience itself as an 41. In a manifestation of the characteristic Lutyens wit, she bases this movement on a ten-note series, i.e. "wrt-a-twelve-tone-row" <D, CM, Bb, A , B, C, F#, G, F, E>. 66 Example 2.1a. Opening of String Quartet, 1.4. Example 2.1b. Opening of Schoenberg's 4 t h String Quartet, Op. 37. 67 actor in the unfolding drama, a kind of silent Greek chorus that watches and judges, but does not speak. The Libretto as a Whole The interruptive structures of 1.5/6 (the double scene), and 1.4 (the String Quartet scene) reenact on a smaller scale the interruptions in the progress of the main story line. Other interrupted continuities include the before-and-after facet scene pairs involving the two young men and the two colleagues. The libretto can therefore be conceived as a collection of interwoven but discontinuous continuities, only the broadest of which is the plot traced by the story scenes. This model of the libretto as multiple discontinuous layers of continuity repeats itself at various levels of scale. This is illustrated in Example 2.2, which presents the twenty-one scenes of the opera consecutively left to right, beginning with the Prologue on the left and ending with II.9 on the right-hand side. The three levels of the figure, A , B and C, represent three different scales of continuity. Level A of the figure represents the story scenes, which leapfrog over the interrupting facet scenes to span the entire opera. The B-Levels represent other, smaller-scale "discontinuous continuities" formed by those facet scenes that are linked in various ways. Level BI shows the scene pair of 1.6 and II.7, the "Two Colleagues" scenes, while B2 shows the similar pairing of 1.9 and II.6, the "Two Young Gentlemen" scenes. The B1 pair is shown below the B2 pair on the Example in order to illustrate more clearly how the first of B l ' s two scenes simultaneously participates in a "discontinuous continuity" with one of the C-level facet scenes, 1.5 ("The Couple"). 68 ho * - H ' h H "3" CN o h H Ei PQ i oo CN — T f CQ CJ r H h-J Pr.l C2 c E 3 O 00 o oo 4> C « 00 c 3 o >< i H on <U C <u o CO CO •c O CO o 03 fcu T3 <U c 5 H-o c «» o tu r j T3 <U — _^ O C CO 3 II II M? XI o "•C « cs rs CN "5. S R W PQ 69 Example 2.3 illustrates in more detail how each scene of 1.5/6, originally a small-scale, intact continuity of its own, has been segmented into seven or eight fragments, each of which functions simultaneously as a link in the continuity of one scene, and an interruption, or an agent of ^ continuity, with respect to the other. The aural distinctiveness of each scene is enhanced by differences in tempo and instrumentation, as indicated in the legend. Unlike the other discontinuous continuities discussed so far, however, this one is more easily conceived of as a single time span, bounded by the rising of the curtain in m. 718 and its fall in m. 1005. Example 2.3 can be imagined temporally as well as visually, in terms of the rhythm of the alternation between scenes: interruptions accelerate at the beginning of the double scene, leading towards a relatively stable and continuous middle, but resuming towards the end in a pre-cadential flurry of activity. Level C in Example 2.2 represents continuities of the most local kind: the five purely self-contained facet scenes, which function as agents of discontinuity with respect to the play as a whole. (Also included in this group is 1.5, a component in the double scene 1.5/6, since its characters do not appear anywhere else in the opera.) The grouping of these scenes in a single "level" should not be taken to mean that together they form a single continuity, as in level A . As B l and B2 are subcategories of level B, each of these scenes is a subcategory of level C and consequently labelled CI , C2, C3, C4, or C5. Yet even at this level, the principle of discontinuous continuity can be seen within the structure of a single scene, as demonstrated in Example 2.4, a graphic representation of the scene labelled C3 on Example 2.1, the string quartet scene (1.4) discussed earlier. 71 s 1 n Quart* 1 c H tring derm en I >> ce cc ^ u C u u cc r cs s c be a •c ** CC cu X! H v u. 9 g CC rs JU "a S cs W C O o D C CC C. al II H 72 The uppermost level of Example 2.4 shows the two string quartet movements, separated by the fictive "interval." The middle level shows the spoken, unaccompanied dialogue between the man, Dr. Forty-Six, and the woman, Forty-Three. The lowest level represents the only portions of the scene that are given measure numbers: the woman's sung passages, designated as mm. 688-717. (The preceding scene, 1.3, ends at m. 687, and the following scene, 1.5, begins at m. 718.) Yet even the A-level, the opera's broadest continuity, can itself be subdivided into multiple strata based on Fifty's interactions with other characters. This idea is illustrated in Example 2.5. Only the story scenes are represented here, with Fifty's scenes with his Friend marking the beginning, middle and end of the opera and therefore represented as the uppermost, A l level. Fifty's scenes with the Keeper are represented at the A2 level, and always occur directly after or before one of his scenes with his Friend, creating the symmetrical pattern shown in Example 2.6. Fifty's three scenes with other characters are shown at level A3, while his single solo scene forms the entirety of the lowest, A4 level. Only the top two levels, Fifty's scenes with his Friend and the Keeper respectively, can be said to represent interrupted continuities in themselves; the only connection between the remaining scenes on levels A3 and A4 is Fifty's presence in all four. The integrity of these various scene-continuities (or discontinuities) is maintained in part through Lutyens's treatment of orchestration. As shown in Tables 2.4a and 2.4b, the story scenes (shown in bold type) are generally scored for full orchestra, with smaller, more timbrally varied groups of instruments allotted to the facet scenes. (The only exception to A l A2 A3 A4 Example 2.5. Story Scenes as Discontinuous Continuities. Scene . . . 1.2,1.3 . . . . 1.11 || II. 1 . . . . II.3, II.4 . . . . II.8, II.9 Level A A l , A2 A2 || A l A 1 , A 2 A 2 , A 1 I I I I I I I I || = Intermission Example 2.6. Symmetry of A1/A2 Levgsfe. 74 Scene Title Orchestration Prologue Two M e n prior to curtain: full orchestra curtain: f l , bsn, hn, tpt, trb, pere, hp, celesta, str Prelude (orchestral) full orchestra; chorus (wordless) I . l Mother "32" and Son "Seventy" woodwinds, hn, celesta, hp, str, pere 1.2 Fifty and his Friend full orchestra 1.3 Fifty and the Keeper full orchestra 1.4 The Courtship string quartet, f l , clar, b. clar, hn, vibraphone 1.5/6 Two Lovers/Two Colleagues woodwinds, hn, celesta, hp, pno, str, pere (1,5: glock, susp cym, tam-tam, sd, crotales, cym, vib, tenor drum; 1,6: marimba, bass drum, temple blocks, timp, cym, vib, tenor drum) 1.7 Fifty and the Boy "10" full orchestra 1.8 Two Ladies f l , clar, hn, 2 mandolins, pre-recorded whispering mixed chorus, hp, str, pere 1.9 Two Young Gentlemen alto f l , tenor sax, 2 electric guitars, db, pere 1.10 Fifty and a Young Woman at the Funeral of her Child full orchestra, inc. tubular bells; funeral procession: fl, alto fl, cym, bass drum 1.11 Fifty is Publicly Exposed at a Gathering of the People full orchestra Table 2.4a. Scene-by-Scene Orchestration of The Numbered, Act I. 75 Scene Title Orchestration II. 1 Fifty and his Friend full orchestra II.2 Fifty and Two Very Old Women fl, alto fl, clar, b.clar, bsn, hn, str, pere II.3 Fifty and his Friend full orchestra II.4 Fifty and the Keeper full orchestra II.5 Fifty in the Streets, Like a Town Crier full orchestra II.6 Two Young Gentlemen clar, bass clar, tenor sax, bsn, d.bsn., tpt, trb, tuba, electric guitars, bass guitar, piano, double bass, pere (snare drum, tenor drum, timpani, 3 tom-toms, bass drum, cymbals with soft sticks, tambourine, vibraphone) II.7 Two Colleagues full orchestra II.8 Fifty and the Keeper full orchestra II.9 Fifty and his Friend full orchestra Table 2.4b. Scene-by-Scene Orchestration of The Numbered, Act II. 76 this is II.2, Fifty's scene with the two old women. The somewhat lighter orchestration here serves to aurally distinguish II.2 from its surrounding scenes, both of which take place between Fifty and his Friend. The timbral distinction underscores the visual contrast between II.2 and II.1/3: the two outer scenes are set in the Friend's room, while II.2 takes place outside in the evening, along a road through a forest.) Each facet scene has its own distinct timbral profile. For example, 1.8 makes use of pre-recorded, mixed whispering chorus in order to simulate the timbral effect of a chatting theatre audience, and the widely-separated scenes involving the Two Young Men (1.9 and II.6) are connected timbrally by the only use in the opera of electric guitars. Related scenes are linked by other musical means as well, such as the use of melodic motives in association with particular characters or ideas. Most notably, Fifty's opening phrase, shown in Example 2.7, constitutes what Lutyens herself called "almost the only recognizable theme/motif of the opera," henceforth to be called the Disbelief Motive (DM) 4 2 Example 2.7. The Disbelief Motive. 42. This note is penciled in Lutyens's hand on a draft of the libretto (BL Add. Ms. 64445, f. 3). 77 This melodic motive recurs intermittently throughout the opera, as shown in Table 2.5. It almost always occurs in conjunction with direct or indirect references in the libretto to doubt or skepticism, usually Fifty's. The Table indicates several TO occurrences of the motive, all but one of which occur in the "A-level" scenes between Fifty and his Friend. Aside from the lone exception in the Trial Scene (I.l 1), each of these TO occurrences of the Disbelief Motive is preceded in the orchestra by repetitions of Fifty's Chord, the [012367] hexachord {Eb,A,D,F,Ab,E} that is repeated three times at the beginning of 1.2, as shown in Example 2.7 above. This chord only precedes these TO versions of the Disbelief Motive, however, and is not heard in any form before other transpositions or inversions of the motive; nor is it heard before the TO instance of the Disbelief Motive in the Trial Scene. The chord signals the imminent statement of the motive in its original transposition, as i f to ensure it will not be missed. The most obvious statements of the Disbelief Motive thus occur in the scenes between Fifty and his Friend—where Fifty expresses his skepticism most frankly. Although Lutyens refers only to what I have called the Disbelief Motive in her notes, a second melodic motive permeates the opera almost as thoroughly. It is established most emphatically at the beginning of 1.6 in the First Colleague's opening phrase, shown in Example 2.8. 1 can't get it done. 1 work day and night. Ihard-ly eat, Ihard-ly sleep. Example 2.8. Opening of 1.6. 78 Scene, M m . #'s Level Character Text Transposition or Inversion I.2.322-2343 A Fifty "I don't believe it!" TO 1.2.326-27 A Fifty "I don't believe it!" 12 1.2.328-30 A Fifty "You say the moment comes to everyone at the right time" 111 1.2.449-50 A Fifty "Have you ever known anyone who revealed his age to you?" TO 1.2.505-06 A Fifty "You don't convince me" T l 1.7.1108-1111 C clarinet postlude T8 1.10.1600-01 c Fifty "I believe you; I believe you" T7 (-5) 1.11.1647-48 B Fifty "It is not my moment!" T i l (-1) 1.11.1654-55 B Fifty "(I know how) old I am" TO 1.11.1757-58 B Fifty "Do you doubt your law?" T6 1.11.1890-91 B orchestra after the recantation T7 II. 1.135-36 A Fifty "(I trusted) you with my torments" T8 (-4) II.1.336-337 A Fifty "(If I deny my moment,) what can he prove?" TO II. 1.442-446 A horn End of scene, as Fifty whispers, "What then? What then?" TO II.3.726-28 A Fifty "The lockets are empty!" TO II.3.793-94 A Fifty " A l l lockets are empty!" TO II.8.1607-08 B Fifty "(You never) observed the living?" T5 (-7) II.9.1673 A Fifty "Yes. Don't you know me?" TO II.9.1842-43 A horn Postlude: end of opera TO Table 2.5. Disbelief Motive. 43. Throughout the dissertation, measure numbers will be notated as follows: "1.2.322-23" indicates Act I, Scene 2, mm. 322-23. This full format will be used in captions and as needed in the text for clarification. 79 The First Colleague's obsessive anxiety that he will not be able to complete his life's work is conveyed musically by multiple repetitions of the tetrachord <Ab3, G3, Eb3, Gb3>. This figure saturates the First Colleague's part in 1.6, and is heard prominently again in II.7 (the second of the Two Colleagues' scenes), thus functioning as a leitmotif 'that links the two scenes melodically over the intervening timespan. This motive is also heard intermittently in the vocal lines of other characters. For example, it is used by the Friend in II. 1 in association with his expressions of long-suppressed grief over the death of his sister, as shown in Example 2.9. Example 2.9. The Friend, II.1.110-111. I will refer to this motive throughout the dissertation as the Entrapment Motive (EM), for reasons that will shortly become clear. As illustrated in Example 2.10, both the Disbelief and Entrapment Motives outline a unidirectional chromatic trichord which is interrupted by a leap inserted between the chromatic trichord's second and third notes; this trichord ascends in D M , but descends in E M . In both cases, the inserted pitch class forms the interval classes 4 and 5 with the two preceding pitches producing an [015] trichord. However, because of the 80 opposite directions of each motive's [012] trichords, D M opens up to end on a tritone, while E M closes in, to end on a "sad" minor third. [012] [015] [015] Disbelief Motive Entrapment Motive [0126] [0125] Example 2.10. Similarity between the Disbelief and Entrapment Motives. Thus the two motives are nearly inversions of one another, in terms of both interval structure and associated character traits. The "opening wedge" contour of the D M ' s chromatic trichord corresponds well with Fifty's aggressive questioning of the system; E M ' s contracting melodic shape suggests equally well the First Colleague's sense of being trapped in an enclosed, quickly shrinking temporal space (his own lifespan), and with the Friend's inability to escape his obsessive grief over his sister's death. Other motivic relations emerge almost inevitably from the use of a single row throughout the entire opera. As Chapter 4 will address, however, Lutyens often uses the row so freely, sometimes even abandoning it altogether, that motivic echoes occur less ubiquitously than they might in a more strictly serial context. 81 Other Relations Between Scenes Although Examples 2.2 through 2.5 posit various interrupted continuities between and even within scenes based on the presence of common characters, they by no means exhaust the possible similarity relations between scenes. Common dramatic ideas, rather than characters, serve to relate several groups of scenes. For example, three scenes, all in Act I, consider the raising of children: in I . l , the boy Seventy pleads with his Mother to tell him how much longer she will live; in 1.7, Fifty is attacked by the boy Ten, whose parents have neglected his moral and educational development because of his short lifespan; and in 1.10, Fifty encounters the funeral of the boy Seven, whose mother does not grieve because she had always known precisely when he would die. 4 4 The scenes involving Fifty's Friend can also be included in this group, because of Friend's reminiscences of his sister's childhood and death. As noted earlier, another group of scenes (again all in Act I) explore relationships between lovers. The String Quartet scene (1.4) portrays the beginning of a love affair, 1.5 the ending of another due to the Woman's impending death. More comically, the Two Ladies of 1.8 discuss how they and their acquaintances choose mates on the basis of their prospective lifespans. Finally, the theme of "crowds" unites an otherwise more disparate group of scenes. The Trial Scene (I.l 1) is the only place in the opera where the chorus is both heard and seen, but the Revolution is unmistakably a "crowd scene" even though it takes place behind the curtain. Another "crowd" appears onstage in 1.10's funeral procession, although it 44. This is yet another example of Umkehrung: 1.7 concerns the boy Ten, while 1.10 concerns the boy Seven. 82 remains silent. Of course, the "Courtship" and "Two Ladies" scenes (1.4 and 1.8) draw into question the audience's own role as a crowd. In an essay entitled "Canetti and Power," critic John Bayley describes The Numbered as "academic but strangely haunting."45 A reviewer of the play's English premiere wrote of its "strangely mathematical absorption," and a critic of its Viennese premiere described it as "an amiable play for the mind, but not for the stage."46 Through musical analysis, the following chapters will argue that Lutyens's musical treatment of the libretto potentially mitigates this detachment, allowing an audience to engage more directly with the action and ideas presented onstage. Before going on to more abstract aspects of musical structure, however, we shall first consider Lutyens's treatment of the operatic voice. 45. John Bayley, "Canetti and Power," Essays in Honour of Elias Canetti,\30. 46. Cited in Thomas Falk, Elias Canetti, 82. 83 Chapter 3. From Libretto to Opera: Modes of Enunciation. At the end of a conference entitled "Opera Analysis" at Cambridge University a few years ago, musicologist Christopher Wintle remarked that during the entire succession of papers he had not once heard the word "tenor": that is, although presenters had analytically considered aspects of opera such as form, motivic or harmonic design, or thematic content, more concrete matters such as voice type, range and treatment had been completely ignored. This chapter attempts to address the issue that Wintle rightly raises, by examining Lutyens's treatment of voice in The Numbered. This examination takes two forms: first, an overview of the distribution of voice types in the opera, paying particular attention to gender; secondly, an exploration of Lutyens's use of special vocal techniques such as speaking, Sprechstimme, melisma and glissando. Because there are no less than eighteen individual singing roles in the opera, I have chosen to limit this second area of study to a detailed comparative analysis of the three main roles of Fifty, his Friend, and the Keeper. In the course of the chapter's exploration of voice, readers will gain an increasingly detailed sense of The Numbered's characters, its unfolding story, and Lutyens's compositional language. Voice Types and Gender On one of the preliminary pages of the opera score, Lutyens lists the dramatis personae and voice types of The Numbered. This information is summarized in Table 3.1. As the table shows, there are eighteen sung and three spoken solo parts in the opera. Because the play is structured almost entirely as a series of dialogues between two characters, we might expect that duet would be the most common vocal texture used in the opera. Yet 84 Voice Type Range Character Scene(s) jj A3-Bb5 Mother, Thirty-Two L l A3-B5 Female Lover 1.5 Soprano B3-B5 First Lady 1.8 B3-Db6 Mother 1.10 A3-F#5 Boy, Seventy 1.1 Boy's Voice C4-E5 Boy, Ten 1.7 G3-E5 Female Student, Forty-Three 1.4 Contralto G3-Db5 Second Lady 1.8 Male Alto Bb3-Eb5 First Old Woman II.2 G3-Bb4 Second Old Woman C3-C5 Friend (lyric tenor) 1.2,11.1,11.3,11.9 Tenor E3-A4 Male Lover 1.5 D#3-F4 Second Young Man 1.9, II.6 F#2-F#4 Fifty (dramatic baritone) 1.2,1.3,1.7,1.10,1.11,11.1, II.3, II.4, II.5, II.8, II.9 Baritone A#2-F#4 First Colleague ("tenor/high baritone") 1.6, II.7 Bb2-F#4 Second Colleague ("plummy baritone") A2-F#4 First Young Man 1.9, II.6 Bass Eb2-Eb4 The Keeper 1.3,1.11,11.4, II.8 - One Man Prologue Male Speaker — Another Man -- Professor Forty-Six 1.4 Table 3.1. Voice Types and Characters. 85 within these duets, characters rarely sing simultaneously. Generally, the singers alternate as in spoken conversation, and as a result the most common vocal texture can be described as alternating solos with orchestral accompaniment: what I shall call "dialogue" texture. There are no mid-sized vocal ensembles such as quartets or sextets in the opera, but relatively large groups of people are represented by the chorus, whose contribution to the opera is discussed in more detail in Chapter 6. Of the twenty-one solo parts, fifteen are for male voices—even the parts of the two old women in II.2 are to be sung if possible by male altos. Although four of these fifteen roles are pitched within a typically female tessitura (the male altos of II.2 and the two boys of 1.1 and 1.7), true adult female voices are strikingly under-represented. This situation results primarily from the gender imbalance inherent in Canetti's play, in which the women characters enact the stereotypical female roles of lovers and mothers, and with the exception of the mother in the Funeral Scene (1.10) appear only in the facet scenes: the real "action" of the opera takes place among its male characters. The exaggerated preponderance of male roles in an opera by a female composer raises questions as to Lutyens's response to this imbalance: does she attempt to address and perhaps mitigate the imbalance in some way? In fact, Lutyens would at first glance appear to exaggerate the imbalance even further, first by omitting altogether Canetti's grandmother-granddaughter scene with its two female roles, and secondly by assigning the roles of the two old women in Act II to male altos. This could suggest a political interpretation—perhaps, for example, that the reduction of human life to numerical terms is the product of a specifically male world view. However, I do not believe Lutyens's decisions regarding voice in these cases were ideologically motivated: although herself a vivid example of female individualism and achievement, throughout her 86 life she resisted any kind of politicized discourse about gender that did not have a practical goal.1 The grandmother-granddaughter scene was likely omitted simply because the content of its dialogue was dispensable. But to what can we attribute Lutyens's preference for male rather than female altos to play the old women? Because women's voices generally become lower with age, the contralto tessitura seems an appropriate choice for old women's voices, and Lutyens was willing for these parts to be played by women if no male altos were available. But these old women are to appear frail, and easily cowed by Fifty. In traditional opera, female altos are often relatively strong (if subsidiary) characters in comparison with the oft-victimized soprano heroine. To the coloratura soprano voice are typically assigned the "hysterical" showpiece arias; Lucia, Violetta, and Butterfly are only three examples. If the lowest range of the female voice suggests strength, the male alto voice—although identical in terms of pitch—suggests the opposite. Lutyens's casting of the old women as male altos allows more subtle qualities of vocal timbre to project the characters' weakness and hysteria more effectively than the alto range of the female voice—particularly when placed in direct opposition to Fifty's forceful (and characteristically "male") dramatic baritone. There are no indications in Lutyens's notes regarding her reasons for assigning the old women's roles to men. But even if these reasons were based on strictly timbral considerations, the element of androgyny in this casting would be difficult to miss. A similar blurring of gender distinctions can be seen in her concepts of two male roles—the Two 1. On the question of feminism, Lutyens once told an interviewer, "Instead of writing useless information about women being abused, why not build a nursery school so women could have two hours a day without Mum, Mum, Mum and quarrel, quarrel, quarrel?" Interview with Mary Blume, International Herald-Tribune, 9-10 January, 1982. In an earlier interview she remarked, "When you compose you do so as a person. I'm only conscious of being a woman with my lover. . . . When composing you notice the sound; then you make the decision. You use your ear, your mind, your imagination. I don't think my privates come into it." Interview with Paul Driver, Sunday Times 15 March 1979. 87 Colleagues of 1.6 and II.7. In her handwritten notes on the libretto typescript, Lutyens describes the First Colleague as having a "badgered, 'whiny,' querulous, 'eunuch' voice, quavering Tenor (High Baritone)," and the Second Colleague as "slightly pompous, governessy, slightly younger, more worldly 'admin' type" and a 'plummy baritone.'" Despite the fact that both characters are to be sung by baritones, each of these descriptions employs terms that de-masculinize or even feminize their respective characters—"eunuch" in the case of the First Colleague, and "governessy" in the case of the Second. As noted in Chapter 2, Canetti does not specify the Colleagues' profession; this makes it all the more intriguing that Lutyens would make them laboratory scientists—in the 1960's still a stereotypically male profession—yet conceive of their voices as somewhat emasculated. I will not argue that in this way Lutyens is satirizing the male domination in Canetti's play, particularly since it is not clear that her de-masculinized concept of these characters can be inferred from the music itself. However, I do believe the casting of the two old women as males and Lutyens's emasculated or feminized descriptions of the two male scientists mitigate to some degree Canetti's stereotyped distinctions between male and female, through her more nuanced and fluid representations of gender. Lutyens's treatment of voice also addresses the balance between male and female in 1.4 ("The Courtship"), in which she uses the female alto voice to present a gendered opposition between singing and pure speech. Most of the dialogue between the female student Forty-Three and her male professor Dr. Forty-Six is spoken without orchestral accompaniment. But this spoken dialogue is interrupted by two sung solos, both by the 2 BL Add Ms 64446 Emphasis added. Unfortunately, she does not provide similarly detailed descriptions of other roles Although the Second Coleague is described as the "high baritone" in the list printed at the beginning of the score, this is probably an error, given Lutyens's verbal descriptions of these two voices on the libreto typescript. 88 woman Forty-Three, in which she confesses to him her thoughts, first about him, then about men in general. We learn from the dialogue that for a very long time Forty-Three has been coming again and again to hear Professor Forty-Six lecture, sitting always in the front row: she has sat silently listening to him speak, and the professor has been the performer, the sole object of attention. Standing repeatedly before his students, who come to hear his utterances, he has related to Forty-Three like an opera singer to a faithful member of his audience who attends every performance: he does not know her name, but her face is burned in his memory. What he remembers—like Fifty's Friend of his sister—is her gaze: "I remember your eyes. You look in such a strange way." In conventional gender constructions, the objectifying gaze is normally directed from the male at the female; here, it is the male who has been the object of the woman's unwavering gaze. Simply by breaking her long silence and speaking to Professor Forty-Six for the first time, Forty-Three has finally equalized the balance of vocal power between them. And from the moment she begins to sing, it is she who commands his attention, and he who now must listen in silence. In not giving Professor Forty-Six a singing voice, Lutyens makes it impossible for him to match Forty-Three's new level of vocal power. Through the traditionally superior eroticism of the female singing voice, she finally achieves the dominance over him that she has long desired in the secrecy of her own imagination. In "The Courtship," Forty-Three's voice has indeed "made itself heard." Professor Forty-Six's rather suggestive words immediately after the end of her last sung passage intimate that the eroticism carried by her voice has begun to infuse him as well. Her last 3 Canetti writes in his autobiography that he first saw his future wife, Veza, on his first attendance at the lectures of Karl Kraus. Veza had long been coming to Kraus's lectures, always sitting in the front. Sitting further back in the lecture hall on this and subsequent occasions, Canetti observed her observing Kraus and he writes of his own "jealousy of the man at whose lectures Veza sat in the front row." The Torch in My Ear, 126. 89 sung words are: "One should begin life together and end it together. I will not outlive the man I love. I will not have him watch me die." He responds, "You seek the identical moment'"—the emphasis is in the original—and, as if to confirm that he has understood her correctly, she repeats the words, "the identical moment." They are ostensibly referring to the moment of death, but given the covert eroticism suffusing the dialogue, the phrase "identical moment" also evokes the time-honoured use of death as a metaphor for sexual orgasm—"/e petit mort." The fact that Forty-Three is a contralto is not without significance in this regard. This voice type has traditionally been given roles described by the late Canadian contralto Maureen Forrester as "mothers, maids, witches, bitches and mediums, but. . . never the bride."4 These roles have in common a certain knowingness; their innocence, unlike that of the passionately romantic soprano heroine ("the bride"), is behind them. Poizat's observations on Lacanian psychoanalytic theories of voice are thought-provoking in this regard: From the Lacanian perspective, it is as object of a drive (the "invocatory" drive) that the voice is inserted into an eroticizing system, which, like all systems built around the drives, consists of the object's source. . .; its goal—a satisfaction; and its "impetus"—the tension it engenders by being sought, its characteristic circular trajectory ("to make itself heard"). The eroticization of the voice follows from its elevation to object status . . . and has little to do with its role as a mark of sexual difference, the feminine voice signaling the female sex, the masculine voice the male sex. In fact, the voices considered most erotic, those that hold the greatest fascination 4. Maureen Forrester, Out of Character(Toronto: McClelland and Stewart, 1986), 234. 90 for the listener, whether male or female, are voices that may be called trans-sexual—the deep voice in a woman (think of Kathleen Ferrier or Marlene Dietrich, the "blue angel"), the high voice in a man. . . 5 To be sure, Poizat's assertions regarding so-called "trans-sexual" voices are not substantiated in all contexts. For example, there seems little eroticism, intended or otherwise, in Lutyens's use of male altos for the roles of the two old women in II.2. But Forty-Three's contralto voice does indeed suggest the "husky-voiced" seductress, particularly in retrospect. For immediately following this scene is 1.5, a much more typically operatic portrayal of the anguished parting of two lovers—a soprano and a tenor. The juxtaposition of these two tableaux highlights the contrast between the female voice types and their respective associations, casting the "Two Lovers" scene in a newly ironic light. The first part of this chapter has introduced readers to the variety of voice types in The Numbered with particular emphasis on the question of gender balance; this attention to gender and voice represents, itself, an effort to counterbalance the almost exclusive focus on male voices throughout the remainder of the dissertation due to the fact that the three main characters are all male. A detailed comparative analysis of Lutyens's treatment of male and female voices would be an interesting avenue of study, but in order to maintain a reasonable degree of focus, the remaining commentary in this chapter will be limited to study of the three main roles of Fifty, his Friend and the Keeper. 5. Michel Poizat, The Angel's Cry: Beyond the Pleasure Principle in Opera, translated by Arthur Denner (Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press, 1992), 105. 91 Vocal Techniques and the Acoustic Mask Lutyens employs special vocal techniques to enhance the expressivity of the voice in both solo vocal and choral writing. These include whispering; shouting; parlando (in a monotone or following a specified contour), indicated on the score either by the word or by Sprechstimme notation; and normal speech, most notably in the Prologue and in 1.4 ("The Courtship"), whose male characters speak but do not sing. This variety led me to question whether Lutyens's use of these techniques creates differentiated vocal profiles for specific characters analogous to Canetti's concept of the "acoustic mask." Towards an answer to this question, the vocal lines of Fifty, his Friend and the Keeper have been analyzed in their entirety with regards to their use of special vocal techniques. The "special techniques" examined include glissando and melisma (taken here to refer to the setting of any single syllable with two or more pitches) along with those listed earlier —parlando/Sprechgesang, speaking, whispering and shouting. These modes of enunciation mediate between speech and song and in this way contribute to the transition from libretto to opera. As we will see, the statistically-oriented analysis reveals that roughly 90-95% of each part is characterized by "normal," syllabic singing, leaving only a very small proportion inflected through the use of special techniques. In Chapter 2, it was noted that the concept of a mask is that of an artificial visage that remains fixed, and by this definition it is unlikely that Lutyens's sparing use of special techniques could create distinct, musical "acoustic masks" for Fifty, his Friend and the Keeper (as Schoenberg does for the title characters of Moses und Avon, for example). However, within this small proportion of the vocal parts devoted to special techniques, significant differences can be seen between the three characters; for example, shouted passages are associated with Fifty, spoken passages with the 92 Keeper, and whispered passages with the Friend. Moreover, the sparing use of these techniques does not lessen their expressive significance, for these infrequent but notable events focus attention on certain issues and themes of the opera. Although the statistical analysis described below will not support the musical "acoustic mask" hypothesis in this particular case, the data and discussion have been included in the dissertation for two principal reasons. First, as noted above, the analysis does highlight certain vocal differences between the three main characters that are expressively even i f not statistically significant. Second, it may provide a useful methodological model for studies of vocalization in the analysis of opera and music drama in general. Readers whose analytical interests lie elsewhere may wish to move directly to Chapter 4. Tables 3.2, 3.3, and 3.4 record every instance of melisma, glissando, pure speech, parlando/Sprechgesang, shouting and whispering throughout the entire vocal parts of Fifty, his Friend, and the Keeper respectively. Each row of each Table provides details for a particular scene, identified in the leftmost column. Fifty's table includes an additional column naming the other characters of these scenes. (No such column appears on the tables for the Friend and the Keeper since the other character in their scenes is always Fifty). The column entitled "Range" notes the highest and lowest pitches attained during the given scene. The column entitled "Melisma" identifies every syllable that is set with two or more pitches (where a word has more than one syllable, the melismatic syllable is italicized). The parenthesized integer following each word indicates the number of pitches with which it is set, and the measure number of each word is also noted. The column entitled "Glissandi" shows all pairs of words or syllables connected by a glissando, as indicated by Lutyens in the •o Si e O > CO J= - ° cA x> ^ c U > E S E - *o E a -rn. 8 ci § S2 > ^ • j= U.|. - » i f o x> LL) O £ n "Q 3 Si , o -a co 3 o a. co 1 C N o F r. 5 o •e s _n X « B a a. cc E <? o ^ J= H Q J4 o o 5 A 5 a <D C f > o =» o <-> c •E v E ?r 4> d ^ 2 T « 8.2 ~ I " = - C ^ C . <£; :> c i n H - a oo E bflo o o r-d> so C - I N a O I— D, SO — ho o Q. -10 E b I E .2 C •g ^ 3 "3-OO m — C S c/-> •^ 3 c/i 7X 4). 00 00 SO (N SO m ~ S O w "O "O OS 2 ^ S E i f. i » % (L> \o « > ' a — lo ^ rr . =«= 5 U c < J2 a u js C N qt U . to U ON o c B « a. O T" % u, a> A > I I to c o Z * IT) T3-' - w 2 ro" — V U J UH , -*" u» V It o -a CQ ~ " o „ -» 3 — -° ^ O „ " 5 -r >^ p vo • oo"= - £ > ° • . C Q . — I oo -5 "° > o " -g oo" H cs = « g 2 £ o D 5 5 , 1 u a t % vo B O u o 12 *i 3 •a 3 2 ^ O ro •2 I 5 Q c « 3 e o o. o •a so e cs CL B It T t Q x cj o t. ON CO ON « i ON c Z i < 3 6 0 "'I „• £ S o o > -* S >• c - w i . n , . n M « « XI g — 3 5? cj .2 I "= " „ -S i_ u 9 «-i o l ) V J N t . ~ •5 3 3 T t -S O . „ O tf JJ , -X T t ' 7 3 Q t oo •5 ro in -s: NJ a S . „ ON — M O (NJ r~i CN T t > o OO NO ^ ^ vn ro" ro^°v 1 Cos- " 0 0 s ON Op-" — /—s 1> *- CN >> « N—' u CN 0 0 . * „ 00 oe" ° ro or<N! . - O N O ON 00 - - - . " - j 0O 0 0 0 0 o _ s .= .5 >. E "c o o ~ ca ca c -a M = c s« Is ? 35 oo o 3 -CJ — O I N x a O J t ^ M o M <N n n n n o o o o o o o o o o o o o o _ ( N r s t n t ^ t ••—v J-T " " P ^ ^  K' P n , ' o y u u u u UJ j f ^ s i s s * * s s U < 3 O t/3 it o o. t/3 ' • ~ VD : CN g I 17 _ i s ^ 3 C T3 > o 2 to ?> » 60 « r= C > > cn 5 O 6 S c Q. so ^ 1 cu cj C ts 3 •S c o cj ->3 C 3 OO O V i >> VD 1 C") 1 X I i £ 3 c cu <4> CN cn 3 JJ rn o o <D „ A o „ 3 co Q *• o c .5 u. U 3 f= J= •s ! E 3 t l . cn CN Q S> V — CU 00 H c5 > O. „ o cu m o . CO 3 . « •5 r-— vo O o c 3 ^3- CN ^J" •— un cn 0 0 0 CL U o cP ^ — cu 2 X ) T J — 01 e CN x> x> tu ttl CN X. XJ CQ Q 97 score with diagonal solid lines. Where more than two syllables or words are required to provide some context, the pair of words or syllables joined by a glissando is italicized. The parenthesized integer indicates the number of semitones spanned by the glissando and its direction. While the Melisma and Glissandi columns of Tables 3.2 through 3.4 enumerate singing techniques, the remaining columns provide details on other kinds of vocalization where pitch is less specific. The first of these is Parlando/Sprechgesang. Usually in the opera, such passages intone a single pitch, indicated on the table in parentheses after the text. When a series of different pitches is used, the series appears on the table as an ordered pitch set. The two rightmost columns show passages of text that are spoken, shouted or whispered. (To conserve space, these last two have been combined into one column.) In most cases, Lutyens indicates approximate pitch levels; these are indicated on the table in parentheses where applicable. The rhythm of such passages is usually specified, but in some cases the text to be uttered is simply written on the staff, with the direction "freely" indicating that the text is to be performed rhythmically ad libitum, within a certain number of measures. Study of these tables can provide a general sense of the differences between the three voices with respect to these vocal techniques. In order to describe these differences more precisely, however, the data in Tables 3.2 through 3.4 have been converted into numerical values, summarized in Table 3.5. After the first column designating the character in question, the next six columns indicate the number of syllables inflected by each of the six techniques for each character's part. The parenthesized integers in the fourth through eighth columns indicate the number of episodes using the given technique (in the case of the Melisma and Glissando columns, this figure is redundant since the number of episodes 98 corresponds with the number of syllables affected). The eighth column, entitled Special Devices Total, shows the total number of syllables affected; again, the parenthesized integer indicates the total number of episodes. (Example 3.1 presents this data graphically, with each vertical bar representing the total number of syllables affected by special techniques in each part. Each bar is divided into vertical segments corresponding with the six techniques, as indicated in the legend.) Example 3.1 compares the total number of special device events in each character's part, but does not compare their use of special devices as a proportion of their syllables in each entire part. To facilitate that comparison, the ninth, penultimate column of Table 3.5 provides the total number of syllables uttered by each character in the entire opera. Finally, the rightmost column of Table 3.5 shows the percentage of each character's total number of syllables treated with a special technique. These percentages are small—only 5% for Fifty and his Friend and 11% for the Keeper—but as noted earlier that does not minimize the expressive significance of the techniques. In fact, Lutyens's sparing use of them enhances their impact when they do occur, and as we shall see these occurrences often coincide with moments of particular dramatic importance. The percentage of the Keeper's part affected by special techniques is considerably higher than those of Fifty and his Friend, in terms of numbers of syllables. However, comparing the parenthesized integers in the Special Devices Total column reveals that the Keeper's part in fact uses special techniques less frequently—in fewer episodes—than the other two characters. This discrepancy is largely due to the fact that his 39 spoken syllables occur in only two episodes (to be discussed shortly); his parlando passages—64 syllables in 99 Special Devices: Percentage of Total Syllables 167/3072 = 5% 92/1823 = 5% 115/1034 = 11% Character's Total # of Syllables 3072 1823 1034 Special Devices Total 167 (56) 92 (39) 115(20) Whispered 4(1) 13(2) i i Shouted 56(8) i : Spoken 18(2) i l 39(2) Parlando 52(8) 47 (5) 64 (6) Glissando CN o o ON Melismatic Syllables CN •<r C N CO Character Fifty Friend Keeper > JS a. • • m • 100 6 episodes— contribute more to his use of special techniques in terms of frequency as well as the number of syllables. Melisma The Melisma column of Table 3.5 indicates that only 12 out of Fifty's 3072 syllables in the opera are sung with two or more pitches, while the Friend's part, although much shorter at 1823 syllables, contains twice as many melismatic syllables. The Keeper's part is the least melismatic, with only three melismatic syllables out of a total of 1034. It is fitting that the Friend's part is much more frequently melismatic than those of Fifty and the Keeper, given that he is designated as a "lyric tenor." Fifty, the "dramatic baritone," sings in a more declamatory manner, while the Keeper's bass part is almost entirely syllabic. Table 3.6 examines Lutyens's use of melisma in these parts in more detail. The second column of the Table shows the total number of syllables each character sings in the opera, while the third column shows the total number of notes. The difference between these two gives us the total number of melismatic notes in the opera, shown in the fourth column. The fifth column calculates the percentage of each character's notes that are melismatic, confirming Table 3.5's demonstration that the Friend's part is by far the most melismatic of the three. By comparing this number with the number of melismatic syllables (shown in the sixth column), we can arrive at an average melisma length for each character. These values are shown in the seventh column. For example, Fifty's 12 melismatic syllables are sung to 35 notes, an average of 2.9 notes per syllable. The average length of melisma for all three characters is around 3 notes per syllable—not excessively long. Of course, the 101 Longest Melisma (#of Pitches) r- m co Shortest Melisma (#of Pitches) CN CN Average Melisma Duration (in approx. seconds) Average Melisma Length (# Notes) (m + s) CN CN co r-CN #of Melismatic Syllables ts) ( N ( N C O Percentage of Total Notes that are Melismatic (m-n) 1.1% 0.7% .a ~ #of Melismat Notes (m m C O v© oo Total #of Notes (n) 3107 1899 1042 -tt Ji 3072 cn CN 0 0 T f co o 3072 w es u cs JS <J Fifty Friend Keeper Vi t: es  0. *i-<w a V « • w JS -a a es a U I* u C S C o es a S o U ro es H 102 duration of a melisma is also affected by its rhythmic design and overall tempo. The next column takes this into account, but still reveals little difference between the characters in this regard; the results are nearly identical at approximately 1.5 seconds per melisma. The last two columns of Table 3.6 show the number of notes in each character's shortest and longest melismas. The most interesting revelation here is that Fifty, not the Friend, has the longest melisma of the three main characters in the entire opera, in terms of both number of notes (7) and duration (nearly 4 seconds). It occurs relatively early in the opera during Fifty's first confrontation with the Keeper (1.3). Fifty asks the Keeper, "Can you read a man's name in a face?" The Keeper replies that generally he can. Example 3.2 shows the passage that follows in which Fifty asks, "If a look at a dead face will tell you his age—why the lockets?" (1.3.565-69). The word "why" is set with a seven-note melisma beginning on Eb4 and descending as low as E3 before reaching its climax on F#4, the highest pitch in Fifty's range. The syllabic repetition of pitches leading up to this moment—Bb3 in mm. 565-66 and C#4 in m. 567—and the absence of orchestral accompaniment in m. 569 make Fifty's uncharacteristic elaboration of the word "why" particularly striking. This emphasis is most appropriate, however, in that it embodies Fifty's "spirit of enquiry" perhaps as much as his text phrase, "I don't believe it!" at the beginning of 1.2; indeed, the melisma's last ordered tetrachord <E,F,C,F#> is the T4 transposition of the Disbelief Motive, disguised by its completely ascending contour. Melisma length and duration are not the only contributors to the expressive impact of this device. Another important factor is the relative frequency of melismas in a given time span. Even if they are only two to four notes in length, several short melismas in close proximity may produce a more noticeable effect than a series of isolated melismas separated 103 Example 3.2. 1.3.565-69. 104 by significant time spans. Example 3.3 shows a crucial moment in I.l 1, the Trial Scene. Fifty has just recanted and thereby won the right to die naturally rather than be subject to the "Public Moment" (execution). In a six-measure passage, there are three melismas, the greatest concentration of melismas in the opera for Fifty; this concentration effectively conveys his ecstasy over the "blessed hours" that he has wrested from the Keeper. Note the retrograde inversion of the Disbelief Motive in mm. 1896-97—Fifty's first utterance of "blessed hours." Furthermore, his triumphant words "that I have won" in mm. 1902-04 are set with an inversion of the Entrapment Motive at the end of the phrase in mm. 1902-04, motivically underscoring the Umkehrung that has just taken place: by pretending to reverse his position and recant, he has compelled the Keeper to repeal his death sentence, an act which not only converts Fifty's captivity and projected execution into freedom and survival, but also reverses the balance of power between Fifty and the Keeper. While the Friend's longest melisma is only five notes in length compared to Fifty's seven, again it is the concentration of melismas in a short period of time that produces an impression of expressive lyricism. The Friend has several passages where melismas occur in clusters, the first of which will be discussed in detail in Chapter 4. Example 3.4 shows a passage from the beginning of Act II (seen in part in Chapter 2), in which the Friend admits that, even thirty years later, he has not yet come to terms with his sister Twelve's death. In mm. 96-99, he sings, "I still, still love her," the word "still" elaborated first by a five-note and then echoed by a four-note melisma, as though the Friend wants to clarify, through his melismas on this word, how the past is "still" present. Although the melisma in m. 97 has more syllables than that of m. 98, it is shorter in duration, lasting only two quarter-notes in RI5(DM) Example 3.3. 1.11.1896-1901. 106 Example 3.4. II.1.92-111 (cont'd on next page). 107 Example 3.4. II.1.92-111 (cont'd). 108 total while m. 98's four notes are spread over three quarter-notes. This written-out allargando sets up the tenuto on the word "love" in m. 99. The word "love" is given only two notes, but this enhances its expressive value: the relatively long durational accent on D4 and its appoggiatura-like stepwise descent to C4 invokes the conventional "sigh" figure common in solo vocal music since the Renaissance. The elaborative expressivity of mm. 96-99 is replaced in mm. 100-103 with a highly contrasting passage in which the Friend sings, "As long as I'd spoken to no one, everyone was indifferent to me." This emotional detachment is aptly conveyed by his completely syllabic delivery, almost in a monotone with its repeated F3's and Gb3's (a rather low part of his tessitura) throughout the entire passage. After a four-measure orchestral interlude, the Friend reiterates in mm. 108-09 that he has never accepted Twelve's death. Over the next few measures, he sings of his "years and years of pain." In m. 110, these words are set syllabically with the exception of the final word, "pain." The first two pairs of words, each beginning with the word "years," are set identically to the ordered pitch dyad <Ab4, G4>. The word "years" is given particular emphasis by the notated accent markings, but also by virtue of the sixteenth-rests after the words "and" and "of." These rests shorten the duration of the second word of each pair, lending extra durational emphasis to the repeated Ab4 word "years," and again suggesting the "sigh" motif. The word "pain" at the end of the measure is set "melismatically" insofar as its one syllable is given two pitches, but the brevity of the initial Eb4 suggests a kind of ornamental, accented grace note figure rather than the temporal extension of a syllable. Its rising ic3 <Eb4, Gb4> completes m. 110's ordered <Ab4, G4, Eb4, Gb4> tetrachord (the Entrapment Motive), which is repeated and elaborated in the following measure and again at 109 T6 in mm. 113-14. In m. I l l , the word "years" is repeated twice more, the first time set with three pitches and the second time with five; like the word "still" in m. 97, this last repetition of the word "years" represents the Friend's longest melisma in terms of number of pitches). In m. I l l , the second repetition of "years" is notationally faster than the first, with five eighth-notes in the time of four. However, the allargando marking counteracts any sense of acceleration and this broadening prepares for the crucial word "pain" on the downbeat of m. 112, marked fp but devoid of melismatic elaboration. Throughout Example 3.4, it is the relative proximity of melismas rather than their individual lengths that is so effective; the repetition of a word using a series of relatively short melismas perhaps prolongs the listener's consciousness of it as effectively as a longer, more typically "operatic" melisma: instead of the distorting effect of ornamentally extending a single vowel at the expense of its consonants, the repetition of those consonants reminds us of the meaning of the word, although still within a generally melismatic context. For example, the word "still" is effectively extended in mm. 97-98 throughout both measures for a total duration of five quarter-note pulses. Similarly, the cumulative duration of the four repetitions of "years" in mm. 110-111 totals five quarter-note pulses, with two eighth-note durations in m. 110 plus almost the entirety of the allargando 4/4 measure in m. 111. The repetition rather than simple melismatic extension of the word "years" also emphasizes the psychological weight of the Friend's grief, which has plagued him, literally, "year after year." Another significant clustering of melismas in the Friend's part occurs at the very end of the opera, shown in Example 3.5. In a period of ten measures, the Friend sings his sister's name seven times, each repetition elaborated by a melisma of 2-4 notes (or 1.2-2 seconds). 110 Example 3.5. II.9.1828-39. None of these melismas is particularly long; again, it is the number of melismas in such close proximity, together with the repetition of a single word, that produces a significant effect—this time, of the Friend's unshakeable obsession. As noted earlier, melismas are extremely rare in the Keeper's part. Example 3.6 shows the most dramatic instance, a brief passage from the Trial Scene (I.l 1). Here the Keeper is mustering his rhetorical resources for his threatening command, "Repent before you die." The second syllable of "before" in m. 1823 is extended with a three-note melisma. In normal speech, the second syllable of "before" would not be so prolonged. But here, the word "before" comes immediately before the ominous conclusion of the phrase "you die." The melisma thus functions much like a fermata, the 3:1 ratio between the second syllable of "before" and the word "you" creating a sense of acceleration towards the concluding word, "die" that effectively conveys the apparent acceleration of Fifty's lifespan towards its imminent termination. The three pitches of m. 1823's melisma <F3, C#3, E3>, together with the D3 on the word "you" converge on Eb, but instead of rising a semitone upwards to Eb3, I l l the D3 plunges down 11 semitones to Eb2 on the word "die." As we shall see in Chapter 4, the pitch class Eb frequently marks moments of cadential arrival in the Keeper's part. But this Eb2 is also the lowest pitch in the Keeper's (or indeed any character's) range, and the fp attack on the word "die" suggests that this particular death will be sudden and harsh. The phrase as a whole—"Repent before you die"—is literally "end-oriented," and the delaying melisma in m. 1823 only contributes to the sense of inescapable momentum towards the word "die." Example 3.6. 1.11.1814-24. 112 The melismas in the vocal lines of these three characters are not the long, florid melismas of nineteenth-century Italian opera. Nevertheless, Lutyens's sparing use of melisma does not negate its expressive significance; on the contrary, the economy of its usage invests each rare melisma with increased importance. As we have seen, many factors contribute to the expressive value of a melisma at a particular point: its number of syllables, its tempo, its rhythmic design, and the degree to which it occurs in close proximity to other melismas. Glissandi: Much Ado About "Nothing" Before exploring how the technique of glissando is used to differentiate these characters' "acoustic masks," we shall first consider the nature of the glissando and the factors contributing to its expressive function. Example 3.7a shows a simple descent from C#4 to D3, while Example 3.7b reproduces an excerpt from Fifty's first scene with the Keeper in which this descent is elaborated with a glissando. strikes him at his mo-ment. Example 3.7a. <C#4, D3> descent. Example 3.7b. 1.3.585. Looking first at Example 3.7a, we refer to the pitch space between the origin pitch C#4 and the destination pitch D3 as "an interval of 11 semitones," but these intermediate semitones are not literally sounded in an accurate performance. In Example 3.7b, the Keeper sings the word "moment" to this same ordered dyad <C#4, D3>, but with Lutyens's addition of a 113 glissando between the two syllables, we hear the entirety of the pitch space between the two pitches—not just as a scalar descent from one semitone to the next, but through all points in between. For the purposes of comparing the techniques of glissando and melisma, Examples 3.8a and 3.8b show two different kinds of elaborated descent from C#4 to D3, a glissando (3.8a) and a melisma (3.8b), again setting the word "moment." Example 3.8a. Glissando. Example 3.8b. Melisma. Comparison of the two reveals a certain similarity: in both cases, additional pitch content is inserted between the onsets of the origin and destination pitches C#4 and D3. In this sense, they both "expand" the pitch content of the first syllable of the word "moment." But what we might call the "pitch-time density" of the glissando is necessarily higher than that of the melisma, since while the melisma attacks a finite succession of discrete pitches, the glissando passes through an infinite—that is innumerable—series of pitch-space "points" in the same amount of time.6 6. This hypothetical melisma has been designed to resemble the glissando in duration and overall contour in order to highlight the essential difference between them. Of course, in practice melismas are even less like glissandi, often extending the duration of the syllable to which they are applied, and usually varying in contour rather than following a unidirectional course as in Example 3.8b. 114 The question is whether this increased pitch-time density gives rise to an effect of temporal compression or expansion. This matter of perception can only be definitively settled through cognitive experimentation. However, in the current absence of such evidence I will argue that whether a listener hears the glissando-affected syllable as temporally "compressed" or "expanded" is subject to a number of variables such as tempo, duration, pitch interval, and whether the glissando is beginning- or end-accented. (Direction, although an important contributor to the rhetorical effect of a glissando, arguably does not have an impact on its temporal effect.) Examples 3.9 and 3.10 illustrate the contrasting effects a glissando can have, depending on these factors. Example 3.9. II.2.478. Example 3.9 is taken from II.2, in which Fifty accosts the two old women and coerces them into giving him their lockets. He has been asking them how old they are, 115 needs to know how close they are to their appointed deaths: what he wants to do is to see i f he can delay their "moments" by opening the lockets and adding ten years to their lifespans. Frightened, they claim to have forgotten how old they are, but Fifty persists, and Example 3.9 shows the second time he asks them this question. The glissando rises eight semitones from G3 to Eb4 in only a sixteenth-note's duration («h = 144). It is anacrustic, the Eb4 on the word "how" emphasized not only by a literal accent marking, but by its increased length relative to the G3 and the explosive effect of its beginning consonant "h" occurring immediately after the "t" of the preceding word—"But how old?!" The glissando produces an illusion of compression or acceleration towards the accented word, "how," underscoring Fifty's impatience with the old women at this point. The subsequent repetition of the question, "How old?" is further emphasized by the expansion of the pitch interval by a semitone both above and below, and by the contrasting absence of a glissando. Example 3.10 shows an excerpt from II.5, Fifty's solo scene, in which he runs through the streets shouting that the lockets are empty. In keeping with his society's metonymic association between individual human lives and the contents of their lockets, he accuses the people themselves of being "nothing." The glissando in m. 1134 is similar to that of Example 3.9 in that it connects the same two pitches (D#4/Eb4 and G3), but a number of important distinctions create a rather different effect. This glissando connects two syllables of the same beginning-accented word, "nothing." Musical details support this natural accentuation, namely the notated accent with the onset of the word "nothing," the increased duration of the first syllable relative to the second (a 3:1 ratio), and the descending contour. 7. The placement of the text on the score suggests that the second syllable of "Nothing" coincides with the second quarter-note D#4; however, given the tie between the two D#'s this is presumably a transcriptional imprecision. 116 Example 3.10. II.5.1129-34. 117 In conjunction with the relatively long duration of the D#4, the notated allargando produces an effect of temporal expansion rather than compression. Despite the contrasting temporal effects of these two glissandi, in both cases the glissando contributes to the emphasis of one of its two boundary pitches. The origin pitch is always the one elaborated by the glissando, but, as in Example 3.9, is not necessarily the emphasized pitch. In vocal music, of course, the pitch emphasized by a glissando is associated with a particular word. In this regard, the Glissando columns of Tables 3.2 to 3.4 reveal some interesting recurrences. In 1.3, the word "moment" is elaborated twice by a descending glissando, once each in Fifty's and the Keeper's parts. Although this word is elaborated only twice in this way, other words or phrases also associated with death are treated with glissandi: in II.2 when Fifty threatens to kill the old women ("or I ' l l kill you" m. II.2.509), and twice in II.5 when Fifty accuses the people themselves of being already dead ("All dead," mm. II.5.1105-06; "You are dead," m. 1128). The word "locket(s)"—the locket being emblematic of death—is heard four times in association with a glissando, particularly by Fifty in II.5 when he is shouting that the lockets are empty. The word "empty" itself is treated three times with a glissando, and this brings us to the word most frequently associated with glissando at five times—"nothing." This occurs in two scenes: II.3, in which Fifty and his Friend open the lockets and find that they contain nothing, that they are empty; and again in II.5, where Fifty reveals the emptiness of the lockets to the public. "Nothing" does not always refer to the emptiness of the lockets, however. In Example 3.10, Fifty insists that the people themselves are "nothing" (mm. II.5.1130-34). Example 3.11 shows a later segment in the same scene in which the word "nothing" refers to the certainty of a given lifespan: "You 118 have not even the years you think you have. You have nothing. Nothing is certain" (mm. II.5.1153-58). Example 3.11. II.5.1153-58. A l l of these words—moment, kill, dead, locket, empty, nothing—refer to the nullification of human life not necessarily by death itself, but by the sentence of death. The locket symbolically encapsulates the entire lifespan of the person who wears it and believes in it; the nothingness in the locket is thus a sign of the essential emptiness of the person. (It is somewhat ironic that the technique so frequently associated with the concept of "nothingness" involves the "filling-in" df pitch space, although this "filling-in" can perhaps be seen as a negation of specific points within the space.) Table 3.5 shows that, where the Friend's part was the most melismatic of the three, it is Fifty who dominates in the Glissando category with 25 out of the 42 glissandi sung by the three main characters. As a proportion of his entire part, however, Fifty's glissandi account 119 three main characters. As a proportion of his entire part, however, Fifty's glissandi account for 0.8% of his total number of syllables, slightly less than the Keeper's 0.9%; the Friend's percentage at 0.4% is half that of the others. Most glissandi involve fairly large pitch intervals, with 27 out of the 42 spanning either 11 or 13 semitones (both ic i ) . There is little variation between the characters in terms of average span: both the Keeper and the Friend average just under 11 semitones, while Fifty's average is just under 10. However, the characters do vary in the frequency with which their glissandi move in a particular direction. The Keeper's descending glissandi outnumber his ascending glissandi by a ratio of 2:1 (6 "downs" and 3 "ups"). By contrast, the Friend's 5 "ups" slightly outnumber his 3 "downs." This corresponds to the contrast in strength between the two characters, reflecting the convention of English speech that a pitch descent at the end of a phrase connotes certainty, and an ascent, uncertainty. Fifty's 12 "ups" and 13 "downs" are more or less evenly matched, in keeping with his character's mixture of doubt and assertiveness. Parlando, Speaking, Shouting and Whispering While melisma and glissando are sung techniques involving only one or two syllables, the remaining devices shown in Table 3.5—parlando, speaking, shouting and whispering—generally affect longer spans of text ranging from a few words to several sentences; they also emulate or use various timbres of speech rather than singing. Despite the brevity of the Keeper's part relative to those of Fifty and his Friend, the Keeper utters the greatest number of parlando syllables at 64, compared with Fifty's 52 and his Friend's 47. Even more strikingly, the Keeper's 39 spoken syllables are more than double Fifty's total of 18. Taken together, parlando and pure speech account for 90% of the Keeper's special 120 techniques. As the upholder of the "Word"— the Law dictated by the State—it is fitting that so much of the Keeper's part is spoken or quasi-spoken. Pure speech is such a rarely used timbre in the three main characters' parts—the Friend never speaks at all—that its infrequent occurrences have a powerful effect. Fifty's first episode takes place in 1.3, when he calmly states to the Keeper, "I know your private name is One-Hundred-and-Twenty-Two." Fifty's only other episode occurs in II.2, his scene with the two old women. He has been trying to convince the old women to give up their lockets when one of them claims she can't, speaking the words, "I've eaten mine." Fifty matches her vocal timbre with his pointed command, "Then spit it up." In both these episodes, the speaking voice is used to confront in a tone of voice that is all the more intimidating in its straightforwardness. This is also true of the Keeper's spoken passages, both of which occur in II.4, the scene in which Fifty tells the Keeper that he knows all the lockets are empty. The Keeper last appeared in the Trial Scene, where he publicly accused Fifty of blasphemy and incited the crowd's fury. In II.4, however, Fifty's revelation that he knows the lockets are empty incurs neither wrath nor even surprise. The Keeper calmly acknowledges that Fifty has discovered the truth, and for the first time in the opera, Fifty and the Keeper have an honest conversation. Towards the end of the scene, the Keeper shifts into pure, unmeasured speech, repeated freely though "monotonically" on E3, and accompanied only by sustained orchestral chords markedpppp as shown in Example 3.12. At the beginning of this passage, Lutyens specifies that it should be "spoken freely, almost whispered," and the quietness of the Keeper's tone commands even more attention to his words. 121 Example 3.12. II.4.1029-32. The remaining dialogue of the scene, shown below, is entirely sung with the exception of its final sentence, spoken ominously by the Keeper. Fifty. I have frightened you. Keeper. You have not frightened me. You opened your locket and found nothing. I have done that a thousand times. Do I look frightened? You are a murderer. We are not concerned with murderers who have recanted. Fifty. You have no proof. You accuse me without proof. Keeper. I dispense with proof—too easy. You have your freedom. You know you will live as long as you in fact will live. You stole this freedom. Enjoy it. Instead of one moment, you have before you nothing but such moments. I will not arrest you. Rejoice in your gain. I leave you your fear. [Spoken:] I leave you your fear. [Curtain] (11 A. 1034-1071) The end of this passage is reproduced in Example 3.13. His first statement of the phrase "I leave you your fear" is sung to a repeated Eb3, the word "fear" accentuated by a 122 simultaneous fp [013457] hexachord in the orchestra.8 He then speaks the phrase pp, unaccompanied except for a quiet roll on the bass drum whose initiation in m. 1069 coincides with the onset of the word "fear." The drum roll leads directly into the orchestral prelude to II.5, in which Fifty makes his knowledge public by running through the streets shouting that the lockets are empty. Example 3.13. II.4.1066-71. As the tables indicate, Fifty is the only one of the three main characters who shouts, in keeping with his often strident character in the first three-quarters of the opera. (That neither the Friend nor the Keeper ever shout is appropriate, given the Friend's relatively 8. As we shall see in Chapter 4, the pitch class Eb is often associated with the Keeper. 123 passive character and the constant emotional self-control required of the Keeper in his authoritative position.) At the beginning of this next scene (II.5), the stage directions refer to Fifty "shouting," and indeed the scene contains the greatest number of shouting episodes in the opera. Despite the stage direction, however, he actually shouts his text only three times in this scene, and in these passages the pitches are nevertheless specified. One of these episodes we have seen earlier at the end of Example 3.11; the remaining two are shown in Examples 3.14 and 3.15. In Example 3.14, Fifty reaches the peak of his range at F#4 as he "shouts" what is perhaps the central thesis of the opera: "I do not know when I shall die. So I am the only man alive.'" The pitches Lutyens notates for this shouted phrase (<C4, F#4, (C4,) F4>) constitute an [016] trichord, with the return to C4 in m. 1116 just before m. A A 9 1117's F4 producing a strong, "5-1" cadential effect. Example 3.14. II.5.1111-17. 9. The repeated C4 in mm. 1111-13 has itself been prepared by an analogous "5-1" succession from G3 to C4 in mm. 1109-10, again using an [016] trichord—in this case, <F#3, G3, C4>. Example 3.15 shows the ending of the scene, where Fifty's shouted words, "Empty! Empty! Empty!" again reach F#4 just before the fall of the curtain. The earlier melodic "cadence" from C4 to F4 in mm. 1115-16 is effectively erased here, as Fifty's melodic line takes that F4 and pushes it still upwards, back to the maximally intense F#4. After II.5, the scene that incites the Revolution, Fifty no longer shouts; his post-Revolutionary disillusionment has drained him of vocal energy. (Note the telling error to the left of the uppermost staff: instead of the name "Fifty," Lutyens has substituted the word "Empty.") Example 3.15. II.5.1174-85. 125 Whispering is the rarest of the vocal techniques used by the three main characters. It occurs only between Fifty and his Friend during II. 1 and II.3, the scenes in which Fifty hatches and then carries out his plan to steal and open some lockets. The use of whispering in these scenes reinforces the fact that their relationship is founded largely on the sharing of secrets. But whispering can also suggest the loss of voice induced by fear, and it is this that accounts for the fact that the Friend's 13 whispered syllables more than triple Fifty's 4. The opera's first whispering episodes occur within four measures of each other at the close of II. 1, shown in Example 3.16. In mm. II.1.428-35, Fifty first conceives the idea of attempting to open and alter the contents of a locket, chanting on a repeated A3 as i f in a trance.10 The Friend's horror is expressed in his whispered words, "You're no murderer! I know you" (mm. 436-37). Recovering his voice, he continues, "You wil l forget all this" to the ordered trichord <E4, D#4, G#4>, a figure that suggests the emphatic cadential A A A movement <6, 5, 1> in G# minor but is quickly converted into an inverted (15) statement of the Disbelief Motive by Fifty's entrance on D4 at the end of m. 439. Fifty is so engrossed in his new idea that he seems unaware that the Friend has spoken at all. "What then?" he asks, first in full voice (mm. 439-40), but then twice more, whispering for his first and only time in the opera, while the horn slowly and quietly plays the Disbelief Motive to end the scene. The softness of this ending, particularly against the unresolved tritone that closes the Disbelief Motive, charges this moment with a great deal of suspense. 10. The thrice-repeated chord in mm. 430, 433 and 435 is the same chord repeated at the opening of Fifty and the Friend's first scene, 1.2. Example 3.16. II. 1.428-46 (cont'd on next page). Example 3.16. 11.1.428-46 (cont'd). The Friend whispers only once more in II. 1 's companion scene, II.3, just after Fifty and his Friend have smashed open the old women's lockets. The Friend refuses to believe that the lockets are empty, claiming that the old women must have cheated Fifty. In the passage shown in Example 3.17, Fifty shouts at his Friend, trying to make him accept the implications of what he has seen. In mm. II.3.726-27, he sings forcefully to the Disbelief Motive, "The lockets are empty," then shouting "Don't you understand?" in mm. 728-29. After he repeats the word "empty" in mm. 730-31 to the ordered trichord <E3, Ab3, F3>, the bass clarinet repeats this motive, ending with a fermata over the F3 in m. 734. Then, against a hushed, sustained {Gb2, G3} dissonance in the clarinet and bass clarinet, the Friend whispers, "They can't be—you're mad," (mm. 735-37), followed by a moment of silence. The contrast between Fifty's shouting and the Friend's whispered response effectively conveys the Friend's horror. But his accusation that Fifty is "mad" ironically foretells his own incipient madness. The Friend is eventually forced to accept that the lockets are empty, but it is not until the opera's final scene (II.9) that we understand the prophetic significance of these words. 128 Example 3.17. IL3.725-38. Example 3.1 suggested visually how the use of the six vocal techniques varies from character to character. Examples 3.18a and 3.18b present this data from a slightly different perspective. In Example 3.18a, each vertical bar represents each character's entire part, including normal singing; the relative heights of each bar's segments reflect the differing 129 . 1 \ u a. B V fa fa =5? v? O a» 3 .2" '5 ev — ^ O > c i ° r s *' .2 I g JD 00 <u u a OX) M 71 ft. O I • • • • • H ® a CU fa I © IT; O 55 in v 3 .2" '5 u — 6 s > <± 3 JS-| 3 rH v k. 3 en 130 proportions of the various techniques within the voice part in question. Example 3.18b magnifies the bottom 12% of each vertical bar in order to visually clarify the differences in distribution of the techniques among the three characters. In one important respect, Fifty, his Friend and the Keeper do have "acoustic masks" that are consistent throughout the opera, simply because of their differing voice types. In addition, musical characterization in opera is also defined through more traditional musical parameters of melodic contour, phrase length, rhythm and tempo; these are indeed crucial and will be explored further in Chapter 4. Although the techniques examined in this chapter may not create acoustic masks, their sparing but effective deployment in the opera nevertheless refines them, preventing the ossification of these masks into caricatures by enhancing their capacity for expressive nuance. 131 Chapter 4. Melodic Characterization of Fifty, His Friend, and the Keeper. In order to continue our examination of Lutyens's compositional choices, and at the same time to familiarize ourselves further with the dramatic material of the opera, this chapter will concentrate on melodic shape and character with respect to the three principal roles in their opening scenes. The discussion will fall into two parts, the first concentrating on 1.2 in which Fifty and his Friend are introduced. Additional reference will be made to II.5, Fifty's climactic solo scene, in order to show how Lutyens develops his vocal character in accordance with the dramatic action of the opera. The second part of the chapter will focus on Lutyens's melodic characterization of the Keeper in his first scene, 1.3. Each part begins with a discussion of the serial melodic structure of the vocal lines in question, in preparation for the more detailed examination of Lutyens's serial language in Chapter 5. This discussion will be followed by a comparative analysis of range, phrase length and contour, and their contributions to melodic characterization of the three characters. 1.2: Fifty and his Friend One of the premises of The Numbered is that the thought patterns and behaviour of individuals in this society are strongly conditioned by their name. Fifty is the only one of the three main characters who is known in the opera by his number; his Friend and the Keeper are known by their functions and relations, with respect to Fifty in one case, and to the State in the other. Fifty is one of the characters in the opera designated by the State to die in middle age: the others are the student Forty-Three, Professor Forty-Six (1.4), the First Lady in the theatre (1.8), and presumably the First Colleague (1.6). Being exactly half of one 132 hundred, the name "Fifty" connotes "middle" more specifically than any of the other "middling" names: if they are "medium," then Fifty is, so to speak, the absolute medium. In this sense, Fifty represents the literal "middle class" in a social economy whose capital is time rather than money. In the Trial Scene, the Keeper claims that it is Fifty's fiftieth birthday. Although this is almost certainly fabricated by the Keeper to justify Fifty's public execution, for such a claim to be accepted by the public, Fifty must at least appear to be "fifty-ish." Fifty responds first by claiming that "it is not my moment!" as if he knew when it was, and later that he does not believe in his moment. In II. 1, however, he tells his Friend that he does not actually know how old he is, because he has deliberately lost track: "I do not know how old I am. I do not know my birthday, or if I ever knew I forgot. I have never thought of years. I have loved life too much" (II.1.312-22). Yet despite his protestations to the contrary, Fifty's name does matter to him. He wants to live as if it were irrelevant, but for the first half of the opera, he does not know that it is. His crusade against the State is therefore not just an ideological quarrel but a passionate crusade against his own death.1 1.2 introduces Fifty as well as his Friend. The Friend acts as Fifty's confidant, the trusted one to whom Fifty can express his dangerous doubts and questions without fear of betrayal. But he also serves as a foil: where Fifty boldly challenges the State, the Friend is a loyal and acquiescent citizen who argues with Fifty on the State's behalf. His gentle nature and fear of change contrast sharply with Fifty's boldness, and this opposition can be heard in the contrast between his lyrical tenor voice and Fifty's dramatic baritone. 1. Die Befristeten was completed in 1954, when Canetti himself—the "great death-hater"—was forty-nine years old. 133 The libretto of 1.2 is shown in Example 4.1. It falls into three sections. In Part A (1.2.319-46), Fifty challenges his Friend to prove that "the moment comes to everyone at the right time." Fifty is unconvinced by the Friend's examples of his parents and begins to resume the debate, but the Friend interrupts him, about to supply what he thinks will be more convincing evidence. This leads to the central section of the scene (Part B, mm. 347-431), where the Friend tells Fifty about the life and death of his beloved sister, Twelve. Here, the argument between Fifty and his Friend leaves the realm of abstract debate and becomes deeply personal. Fifty's Friend is haunted by his sister's death, and his grief is still fresh after more than thirty years. Although sympathetic to his Friend's emotions, Fifty steers the conversation back to the question of proof; Part A ' (mm. 431-516) begins as he asks his Friend whether anyone has ever confessed their age to him. The implication is that Fifty has been raised on the margins of society: although he has worn a locket around his neck for nearly fifty years, he apparently (and incredibly, given his questioning personality) does not know what is in it, or why he must wear i t . 2 Fifty's ignorance is clearly a device through which Canetti, in the final section of the scene, can explain the function of the locket and the role of the Keeper. 2. In the play, the Friend is incredulous at Fifty's apparent ignorance, remarking, "If I didn't know you so well, I should say that you were mentally defective, a congenital idiot, a hopeless cretin." Canetti, The Numbered, translated by Stewart, 22. This line is omitted in the libretto, suggesting perhaps that Fifty's somewhat detached upbringing has prevented his thorough indoctrination with the quasi-religious beliefs of the system. Perhaps because of this social detachment he has lived to this point not caring about the State's regulation of death, and it is only the imminence of his fiftieth birthday that has inflamed in him a "passion to distrust the moment" (I.l 1.1776-77). 134 A mm. 319-346 r Fifty. I don't believe it! Friend. But it's been proved. Fifty. I don't believe it! You say the moment comes to everyone at the right time. Give me an example. Friend. My father was called Sixty-Two. He was exactly that age when it happened. My mother is still alive. Fifty. And her name? Friend. Ninety-six. Fifty. But that still doesn't mean— Friend. Wait! Wait! f I had a little sister. We were all in love with her. She had dark, curling hair and long black eyelashes. She used to open her eyes very slowly. And, as one watched her, her eyelashes were like silent wings, carrying one up, up out of oneself. And yet one lay in the shadow at her feet. It was so strange. Fifty. You speak of her as a lover. Friend. She was only a child. She was adored by all. Everyone felt there was something unearthly about her. Fifty. What became of her? B Friend. Her name was Twelve... mm. 347-431 </ Fifty. You never told me this before. Friend. I never speak of her. But I can't forget. Fifty. Did she know everything? Friend. We wondered. She never asked. She was so quiet for a child—she never let herself be hurried. To observe was her happiness. She looked on things as other people love. Fifty. I wish I had known her. Friend. It was long ago—more than thirty years. I've told you her name. It came then. Fifty. I don't doubt you but— Friend. How could I lie about such a thing? V Example 4.1. Libretto, 1.2 (cont'd on next page). 135 Fifty. Then let me ask you one thing. Have you ever known anyone who admitted his age to you? Friend. Are you out of your mind? Fifty. I never dared ask that question. Friend. Yet—you ask me? Fifty. You are my friend. I trust you. You won't betray me. Friend. If I did, you would be arrested or put in a home. Fifty. Then answer me, I repeat, has anybody, ever, trusted you with his age? Friend. No—no one, no one would do such a thing. Fifty. No one? No one says how old he is? Friend. No—no one. Fifty. Then how does one know that the moment is a fact? It might be only superstition. Friend. Listen, then. When anyone dies, the Keeper must certify the death. Then he opens the sealed locket— Fifty. This? This little thing? Friend. That little thing, the locket that hangs next your heart. Fifty. No, no more than I'd try to cut out my heart. But i f I had? What should I have found? Friend. The day of your birth. The year of your death. Otherwise, nothing. Fifty. Nothing? You don't convince me. The dead,don't speak. The Keeper could lie—he could be sworn to lie. Example 4.1. Libretto, 1.2 (cont'd). 136 Musically, the three sections of 1.2 also form a rough A B A ' structure, but it is not completely coordinated with the libretto's A B A ' structure, since the beginning of the A' section actually occurs later in the music than it does in the text. The A and A' sections, in which Fifty and his Friend debate the validity of the "moment," are set in a declamatory, recitative-like manner. They frame the more lyrical B section, where the Friend reminisces sadly about his long-dead sister, Twelve. At m. 446, Fifty's words to his Friend, "Then answer me, I repeat: Has anybody, ever, trusted you with his age?" mark the beginning of the recapitulation of the opening material. The following analysis will focus primarily on mm. 322-85, that is, the entire A section and the first major segment of the B section. These 63 measures establish a certain melodic character for Fifty and the Friend, providing a baseline against which later changes in vocal style can be compared, and correlated with character development at various stages of the opera. This scene, like most of the opera, is loosely based on the twelve-tone row shown in Example 4.2, which I shall call N . N = <G#,F#, G, A , Bb, F, B, C, E, C#, Eb, D> Example 4.2. The Row of The Numbered. As stated in this chapter's introductory paragraph, Chapter 5 will deal with the serial language of The Numbered in detail, but a matrix of the transpositions and inversions of N is provided as Example 4.3 in order to facilitate the present discussion. 3. Throughout the dissertation, inversion indices indicate the sum of the inversionally-paired pitch class numbers, where C = 0. 137 14N I2N UN I5N I6N HN I7N I8N ION I9N I1.1N HON TON G# F# . G A Bb F B C E C# Eb D RTON T2N Bb GU A B C G C# D F# Eb F E RT2N TIN A G G# Bb B F# c C# F D E Eb RT1N TUN G F F# G# A E Bb B Eb C D C# RTltN TION F# E F G G# Eb A Bb D B C# c RTION T3N B A Bb C C# G# D Eb G E F# F RT3N T9N F Eb E F# G D G# A C# Bb C B RT9N T8N E D Eb F F# C# G G# c A B Bb RT8N T4N C Bb B C* D A Eb E G# F G F# RT4N T7N Eb C# D E F C F# G B G# Bb A RT7N T5N " C# B C D Eb Bb E F A F# G# G RT5N T6N D C C# Eb E B F F# Bb G A G# RT6N RI4N RUN RUN RI5N RI6N RUN RI7N RI8N RION RI9N RUIN RIION Example 4.3. Row Matrix for N . 138 The piano-vocal score of the first sixty-seven measures of 1.2 is reproduced as Example 4.4. First, let us consider Fifty's opening four sentences: "I don't believe it!" (mm. 322-23); "I don't believe it!" (mm. 326-27); "You say the moment comes to everyone at the right time" (mm. 328-30); "Give me an example" (mm. 331-32). The ten pitches used in this passage span most of the upper octave of Fifty's two-octave range, specifically from F#3 to F4. The collection formed is almost completely chromatic, except that G3 and E4 are not used, leaving the whole-tone intervals {F#3,G#3} and {Eb4,F4} at the extremes of the range. The collection, shown in Example 4.5, is symmetrical around B3 and C4, inverting onto itself under 111. The musical significance of this analytical fact will become clear shortly. Example 4.5. I l l Symmetry of Fifty's Collection. Fifty's four sentences of text correspond with musical segments that are two or three measures in length, each separated from its neighbours by rests, or in the case of the first two segments, by the Friend's interjection in mm. 324-25. As shown on Example 4.4, each of these segments is derived from a different row form: T4N (mm. 322-23), HON (mm. 326-27), T I N (mm. 328-30), and T9N (mm. 331-32). The first three segments have an ambitus 139 US ml JL ftl Moflco 1mm \z , l i - | — ^ L. T4N<3,4,5,6> - us\ie rr. •X vo>nr as — Lfiive— IT , - S n I10N<2,3,45,tf>-.r* ^ * fet S«y H e K»fT TlN<2,3,45,fj> * Italicized integers in angle brackets refer to order positions, numbered 0 through 11. "T4N<3,¥,5,<5>" means that the segment <C#,D,A,Eb> is order positions 3 through 6 of T4N. Example 4.4. 1.2.319-87 (cont'd on next page). 140 Example (cont'd). Example (cont'd). Example (cont'd). 143 , i r f ) W<nW9> Heft, H£R B^E - tDSHES W£R£ LIKE 61 - - - LO-JT* WirJ&6 S:lo-V i b ' h n vib,fl,hp r _ 5 : t d a r ' h p r - g;4--5:1,-U S I3N<^5,6,7^,= -9,10,11> vln, vib ^ RT1NE 3 i \ "r-s < 55t 1 Example (cont'd). Example (cont'd). 145 of a tritone, and this tritone is always heard at the end of the segment. The last segment is confined to a slightly narrower range of five semitones (G#3-C#4). The first segment comprises T4N<3,4,5,6> = <C#,D,A,Eb>, a [0126] tetrachord. This melodic figure was briefly discussed in Chapter 2 as the first statement of the Disbelief Motive (DM), the opera's primary melodic motive. After the Friend interrupts him with "But it's been proved," Fifty repeats his opening words in mm. 326-27, his melodic line drawn this time from l\0N<2,3,4,5,6>, and it therefore includes the I2-inversion of the Disbelief Motive <Db4,C4,F4,B3> = l\0N<3,4,5,6>, which also starts on C#/Db. These two forms of the Disbelief Motive are linked not only by their initial pitches. By preceding this second statement of the Disbelief Motive with the anacrustic Eb4 (110N<2>), Lutyens forges a direct pitch link with the Eb4 that ended the first statement of the motive in m. 323 (see Example 4.6). The emphatic F4 on the stressed syllable of "believe" in m. 327 represents the climax of Fifty's range in this section. mm. 322-23 D M I mm. 326-27 12 ( D M ) •ft I don't be - lieve it! <+l, -5, +6> I don't be - lieve it! <-I, +5, -6> Example 4.6. First Two Statements of the Disbelief Motive, 1.2. 146 After a fermata at the end of m. 327, Fifty continues in a somewhat lower tessitura. The 12 symmetry that related the second Disbelief Motive to the first now gives way to an II1 symmetry relating the second Disbelief Motive to the third. In mm. 328-30, his melodic line is derived from T1N<2,3,4,5,6>, and this third Disbelief Motive (TIN<3,4,5,6>) is related to the second by the II1 symmetry observed in Example 4.5; that is, T\N<3,4,5,6> = II 1( I2 (DM)) . Example 4.7 shows the II1 relation, and further illustrates how the last three pitch classes of these two forms of the Disbelief Motive form the unordered tetrachord {B3,C4,F#3,F4}. Looking back at Example 4.5, we can see that the pitches B3 and C4 lie at the centre of Fifty's tessitura, while F#3 and F4 mark its lowest and highest pitches respectively, so that the tetrachord involves the four axial and boundary pitches around (and within) which Fifty's entire collection is symmetrical. {B3, C3, F#3, F4} Example 4.7. Ill Symmetry of Disbelief Motives. In mm. 329-330, B3 and C4 receive much more durational emphasis than they did in mm. 326-27, as if to underscore their important axial position. In m. 327 the five-semitone 147 ascending leap from C4 to F4 resulted in a contour accent on the second syllable of the key word "believe," while in m. 330 a five-semitone descending leap from B3 to F#3 places an analogous accent on the word "right," this time marking the nadir of Fifty's range. Fifty's fourth statement, "Give me an example," is not set to the Disbelief Motive. Its pitches <G#3,A3,C#4> correspond with T9N<(5,7,8>. Nevertheless, it relates in interesting ways with what came before: it begins on the same pitch as the preceding segment (G#3/Ab3), and briefly revisits the A3 from m. 322 before coming to a close on C#4, thereby returning to the first pitch of Fifty's melodic line in m. 322 and to the axial pitch between the two initial row forms, T4N and HON. 4 Fifty's third phrase is the longest, with an overall duration of approximately eight quarter-notes, although brief rests between the measures subdivide it further into three shorter segments of two or three quarter-notes. The other phrases are all between four and five quarter-notes in duration. Brief sixteenth- or eighth-rests also disrupt the flow of sound in the first and last segments, mm. 322-23 and 331-32, lending a certain declamatory "choppiness" to Fifty's melodic line. The orchestral accompaniment in this opening section generally provides harmonic support for the voice, by distinct, relatively short gestures as well as sustained chords. The orchestra sometimes doubles the singer's melody (as in mm. 322-23) or anticipates it by including one or more of the vocal line's pitches in a preparatory chord (as in m. 326, where the unordered trichord {C4,F4,B4} precedes the ordered vocal trichord <C4,F4,B3> in mm. 326-27). As noted above, the vocal line presents fragments of row forms; the orchestra generally supplies the missing segments of the row form being sung in the voice at any given 4. T4N and HON are also symmetrical around the pitch class G, which is absent from Fifty's part but heard nonetheless as the first pitch of the Friend's interjection in m. 324. 148 time, although not necessarily in the normative order. The orchestra also punctuates Fifty's statements, often adding emphasis with pizzicato attacks in the strings. A brief clarinet solo in mm. 333-34 interjects, marked ritardando and ending with a silence prolonged by a fermata. The music then becomes much more lyrical in style, and the Friend becomes the focus of attention; Fifty sings in only nine of the next 100 measures. Mm. 335-346 are transitional and recitative-like. The Friend begins in m. 335 with a psalm-like recitation on D4 that descends to Bb3 at the end of m. 336; it then returns to D4 before ascending at the end of the phrase to E4. The skeletal pitches of Fifty's first phrase were <C#4,A3,Eb4>; the Friend's skeletal pitches <D4,Bb3,(D4,)E4> transpose this outline up a semitone. This passage is marked parlando, but the speech-like delivery is further exaggerated in mm. 339-42, in which Lutyens replaces traditional noteheads with Sprechstimme notation. The vocal lyricism to come with the Friend's "aria" about his sister in Part B is foreshadowed here by the orchestra. The clarinet melody of mm. 333-34 is answered by melodic gestures in the oboe (m. 338), violin and flute (m. 340), and viola, cello, bass clarinet and horn (mm. 342-44). The loud dynamics and emphatic pizzicato attacks characteristic of the scene's beginning have been replaced here by sustained attacks at dynamic levels of pp-mp. This is true of Fifty's singing as well as the Friend's: in mm. 340-41, the dynamic climax of Fifty's question, "And her name?"—despite a steep 13-semitone ascent from E3 to F4—is only mp. The dynamic intensity rises with Fifty's crescendo in m. 344 ("But that still doesn't mean") to mf on the downbeat of m. 345. The Friend overrides Fifty's mf, interrupting him again ("Wait!") with an Ab4—his highest pitch so far—marked fp. The second "Wait!" is slightly lower (G4) and quieter (mp), and it sets up the subdued and lyrical style the Friend will adopt in his upcoming solo in Part B. The scene's B section begins a tempo in m. 347 with a three-measure solo divided between flute and oboe against a sustained Db4 in the horn (con sordino). The oboe's melodic pentachord in m. 348 (reminiscent of the flute solo in m. 333-34 with its common pitch set {Cb/B5,Bb4,A5}), is answered in m. 349 by a melodic gesture in the oboe that completes the "aria's" introduction. The horn's Db is the first pitch class of the row form I9N, which is continued by the flute and completed by the oboe. The Friend's first phrase extends from mm. 350-55, and can be subdivided into three segments: "I had a little sister" (m. 350); "We were all in love with her" (mm. 351-52); "She had dark, curling hair and long black eyelashes" (mm. 353-55). These three segments become progressively longer and more wide-ranging: the first, less than three quarter-note pulses in duration, has a range of only two semitones; the second has a duration of just over three pulses and a range of eleven semitones; the third is over twice as long at nearly eight pulses in duration, with a range of fifteen semitones. The highest pitch of the entire phrase, A4, occurs at the mid-point of the second segment in m. 352, and is the longest-sustained pitch of the phrase. This prolonged suspension on A4 stores up momentum for the swooping contour of the phrase ending in mm. 354-55. The Friend's first ordered trichord <D4,Eb4,Db4> in m. 350 is the first trichord of RTON, and also a retrograde of the trichord <Db4,Eb4,D4> that began I9N in m. 346. His next segment, <Bb3,A4>, corresponds with order numbers 7 and 8 of RTON. The intervening tetrachord RT0N<3,4,5,6> is heard in the orchestra between these two vocal segments in m. 350, and the row form is completed by the clarinets and violins in m. 352. 150 The Friend's next segment begins with the ordered trichord <Eb4,C4,Ab4>, a triadic subset which does not occur in any row form. However, one of the row forms beginning with Eb is RT1N, which does correspond to the unordered trichords and dyads heard in the orchestra, as shown in Example 4.8. The Friend's ordered set is indicated by a single brace above; accompanimental configurations are indicated below by double braces for simultaneities and single braces for ordered sets. Friend I 1 1 RT1N = < Eb, E, D, F, Db, C, F#, B, Bb, Ab, G, A > II— ll—ll II—ll—ll U accompaniment '—' ' Example 4.8. Serial Derivation, M m . 353-55. The scattered nature of the vocal line in terms of its serial derivation suggests that here, Lutyens composed the vocal line first, later choosing a row form from which to draw its accompanimental support. The last trichord of the phrase, <E4,F3,Eb4>, is the first trichord of RT2N. In m. 356, this row form is completed in the orchestra in a straightforward manner, its last five pitch classes < C,B,A,Ab,Bb> forming a melodic line in the flute and violin that clearly recalls the oboe solo in m. 348. The three row forms employed in this phrase thus follow a pattern of progressive T l transpositions, from RTON (starting with the D4 that begins the phrase in m. 350), to RT1N (at the Eb4 that begins the third segment in m. 353), and finally to RT2N (at the E4 of m. 355). The <E4,Eb4> descent at the end of the phrase, briefly interrupted by a leap down to F3, mirrors the ascent to Eb4 from D4 at the 151 beginning of the Friend's vocal line in m. 350 (see Example 4.9). The last ordered trichord in m. 355 <E,F,Eb> is also the T2 transposition of the first trichord <D,Eb,Db> in m. 350. m. 350 351-52 353-55 I6-related dyads Friend pcint :<l , 10> <1, 10> l !—: 1 T2-related trichords Example 4.9. Friend's Vocal Line, M m . 350-55. The Friend's next passage (mm. 362-83) consists of two sentences of text, the first of which (mm. 362-81) is much longer than the second. The first sentence is divided into four musical segments: "She used to open her eyes very slowly" (mm. 362-64); "and, as one watched her, her eyelashes were like silent wings" (mm. 365-70); "carrying one up, up, out of oneself (mm. 370-76); "and yet one lay in the shadow at her feet" (mm. 377-81). The melodic line in mm. 362-81 traverses almost the entirety of the Friend's two-octave range and reaches its pitch climax in m. 376 with C5 ("oneself), his highest pitch of the entire opera—indeed, the highest pitch in any of the opera's male roles. Example 4.10 shows the vocal line in these measures. The serial derivation of this passage from six different row forms is indicated by the square brackets below the staff, with the order number of each pitch class within its respective row form shown in italics (the remaining pitch classes of each row form are heard in the orchestral parts). Solid bar lines correspond with the four segments noted above. The dashed bar line just before m. 375 152 acknowledges the two-measure orchestral interjection in mm. 373-74 between the Friend's sustained B4 on the word "up" (mm. 371-73) and his continuation of the phrase in m. 375, beginning with the same word a whole step lower on A4. Brackets indicate [016] trichords. m.362 365 368 369 375 376 J# JMJiJ J'r 380 ^ 1 3 E Fr. T4N<2, 3,4,5,6,7,8, 9> I3N<7, 2, 3, 5,4,(5)6, 7, 8> R\m<2 3 4 5> RI9N<5,6,7, 8,9,10, 11> RT2N<9> ' ' ' RT9N<0, 1, 5, 6, 10,U> Example 4.10. Friend's Melodic Line, 1.2.362-81. The first segment (mm. 362-63) is bounded by the tritone between its initial B3 and the E#3 at the end of m. 363; together with the Bb3 that begins the second segment in m. 365, these pitches < B 3 , . . . E#3, Bb3> form an [016] trichord whose salience is more structural than aural, given the temporal gap between the end of segment 1 and the beginning of segment 2. However, the clustered foreground [016]'s between B3 and E#3 are certainly audible. Segment 2 begins in m. 365 with another [016] trichord <Bb3, E4, B4>, initiated by the Bb3 that completes the < B 3 , . . . E#3, Bb3> begun in the previous segment. The seven repeated Bb3's of mm. 365-67—almost all of which are separated by rests—create the impression of a pent-up energy. The E4 on the last two syllables of the word "eyelashes" in m. 367 seems an attempt to escape the gravitational pull of Bb3, but the melodic line then falls back to Bb3. It is only on the second ascent to E4 at the end of m. 367 that the voice 153 successfully escapes Bb3's orbit, reaching further upwards in m. 368 to B4, the segment's pitch climax. Note that this B4 is exactly one octave above m. 362's initial B3; this relationship is indicated on Example 4.10 with a long slur. After this climactic B4 in m. 368, the stored energy of the preceding Bb3's in mm. 365-67 is released in the agile, melismatic arabesque <C4,D4,Eb4,Db4>. The B4 then descends to A4 with the word "wings" on the downbeat of m. 369, and this middle-range descent is indicated on the Example by a dashed slur. The arpeggiated [016] trichord <Bb3,E4,B4> of the phrase's second segment (mm. 365-70) also structures its third segment, from the end of m. 370 to m. 372. The first word "carrying" is set to Bb3, while the repetition of this word in m. 371 first descends to F3—the enharmonic equivalent of m. 363's E#3—before returning to Bb3 and ascending further to E4. This initial ascent <F3,Bb3,E4> arpeggiates another [016] trichord, and the brief semitonal descent to D#4 produces yet another (<Bb3,E4,D#4>). From this D#4, the melodic line rises again to end the segment on B4, appropriately setting the word "up." The momentary descent from E4 to D#4 before the ascent to B4 creates an undulating contour out of the otherwise unidirectional ascent through an arpeggio of interlinked [016] trichords, as shown on the Example. It is on this second B4 that the Friend pauses, lapsing into silence as if suspended, before descending again to A4 in m. 375. Although the two pitches are separated by rests, this otherwise direct progression from B4 to A4 reprises the indirect <B4,A4> descent in mm. 368-69. This time, however, instead of descending further to Gb4, the melodic line rises even further, reaching the Friend's absolute pitch climax of C5 on the downbeat of 154 m. 376 with the second syllable of the word "oneself." But this is a moment of tenderness rather than passion, and accordingly it is marked piano with a decrescendo. The orchestral accompaniment throughout this passage has been very sparse. For example, the Friend's melisma on the word "silent" in m. 368 is accompanied only by a very soft cymbal trill and the doubling by the vibraphone and horns of his last three pitch classes <D4,Eb4,Db4>, the same ordered trichord that set his crucial phrase "I had a little sister" in m. 350. On the downbeat of m. 369, vibraphone, flute and harp play the trichord {A4,G4,Eb4}, doubling and providing harmonic support to the Friend's sustained A4, followed by a second trichord {Gb4,Bb3,F3} in the clarinets and harp supporting his Gb4 at the end of the measure. In mm. 370-71, the orchestra is completely silent while the Friend sings the words "carrying one up" to his arpeggiated ascent to B4. The entire passage beginning in m. 362 is sung pp, so that his arrival at B4 is hushed and sustained, requiring a great amount of vocal control. The delicacy of the orchestral accompaniment throughout this passage embodies the tenderness of his feelings towards his sister's memory. Together with the restrained and gentle "attacks" required of the Friend on his highest pitches, this delicacy suggests "height" without "weight," a lightness that befits the image of the sister's rising eyelashes as "silent wings." But after the climax in m. 376, the Friend's lyricism is spent, and the final segment of this long sentence, broken up by frequent rests, lacks the momentum of the earlier segments. It nevertheless relates back to the first segment in that its last ordered trichord <A3,C#3,D4> is an unordered subset of its first tetrachord <B3,C#3,D4,A3> in mm. 362. Disregarding for the moment the anacrustic B3 in m. 362, the 13-semitone leap from C#3 to D4 begins the sentence in m. 362, and ends it in m. 380. These leaps are circled on the Example, along 155 with the climactic 13-semitone leap <B3,C5> in mm. 375-76. Indirect, but still important 13-semitone melodic spans of the passage are formed by the pitch dyad <Bb3,B4> in mm. 365-68 and again in mm. 370-71. Rests also separate the words of the brief, coda-like sentence that concludes the entire passage in mm. 383 (see Example 4.4, p. 144): "It was so strange." Like the ascending arpeggio of [016] trichords <F3,Bb3,E4,B4> in m. 371, this descending melodic figure <F#4,D4,C#4,G3> also comprises two [016] trichords: {F#,C#,G} and {D,C#,G}, this time forming an [0156] tetrachord. But the relative discontinuity of its delivery resembles that of Fifty's opening phrases with their frequent rests, and indeed as the Friend's vocalization returns to a more speech-like quality, Fifty begins to sing again. Fifty has evidently been affected by the Friend's reminiscences. His own vocalization has temporarily lost its emphatic quality and his observation, "You speak of her as a lover," is marked teneramente. The Friend continues as i f he has not heard, "She was only a child," set syllabically to the [016] trichord {F#3,G3,C#4}, a subset of the tetrachord <F#4,D4,C#4,G3> that set his previous comment in m. 382. The remainder of the B section continues in this pensive vein although the Friend's lyrical episodes are shorter, curtailed by questions and comments from Fifty. The Friend's somewhat indignant interruption, "How could I lie about such a thing?" brings the discussion of his sister to a close and ushers in the A' section of the text, a return to the argumentative texture of the scene's opening. From this point, the Friend's responses to Fifty revert in style to that of the A section: short, often repeating a single pitch several times as in the parlando transition to the B section (mm. 335-42). 156 The scene's musical recapitulation, beginning in m. 446, can be seen in Example 4.11. The thrice-repeated orchestral chord that began the scene accompanies Fifty's question "Then answer me, I repeat, has anybody, ever, trusted you with his age?," sung to the first seven notes of T4N, the row form from which this chord is taken. Of course, the last four notes of this phrase, <C#4,D4,A3,Eb4>, form an exact statement of the Disbelief Motive at its original transposition. The Friend responds to this restatement of the Disbelief Motive with the same trichord as in his first response, but inverted from the original <G,F#,G#> to <G,Ab,F#>. The repeated F#3's in m. 452 are typical of this section, although not ubiquitous. Example 4.12 shows the end of the scene, as Fifty asks his Friend what he would find if he opened his locket. The Friend replies in a monotone on Ab3, the parlando and molto ritmico markings creating the impression of a mechanical recitation. The responsive "nothings" between the Friend and Fifty in mm. 499-500 also bring to mind the frequent recurrences of this word noted in Chapter 3. Also notable in this closing passage is Fifty's statement, "You don't convince me" in mm. 505-06, a T2 transposition of the Disbelief Motive. This opening scene between Fifty and his Friend establishes for each a particular characteristic vocal style, one emphatic and speech-like, and the other prone at times to melismatic lyricism. Examples 4.13 and 4.14 illustrate this contrast visually. In these Examples, details of rhythm and traditional pitch notation are stripped away in order to focus on aspects of contour and range. The vertical axis of these contour graphs represents the two-octave pitch range of the given character throughout the entire opera; in Fifty's case, 157 Fifty's Chord Example 4 11. Recapitulation, 1.2.444-56. 158 _ / | S J . Example 4.12. End of 1.2 (cont'd on next page). 159 Example 4.12. End of 1.2 (cont'd). F#2-F#4, and in the Friend's, C3-C5. Time is represented along the graph's horizontal axis, but only insofar as every point on the graph occurs later than the point immediately to its left. Each graph shows a series of consecutive melodic segments within a single voice part; for example, Example 4.13 represents Fifty's first eleven segments in the opera. The segments are identified with a lower-case letter and the corresponding texts associated with each segment are provided in full below the graph. Underscoring in the text segments indicates syllables sung to a repeated pitch; these repeated pitches are indicated on the graph by open circles. While the exact durations of these repetitions are not shown, their durations relative to each other can be roughly gauged from the number of underscored syllables. The other character's responses are not shown in order to highlight the particular contour characteristics of the voice in question. In Example 4.13, the Disbelief Motive can be seen in its first three manifestations: segment a is shaped like the letter V in cursive handwriting; segment b turns this V-shape 160 y> o OJD (Nl tm-zM wild JS 60 J3 u 6 & '~ JS u S cd s l - l u JS T3 £3 < U J= c+* O IS 8. cn^ 3 O JH JO £ s cfl t-ej U CO > J D U ' ti c r- o 60 C c o rs rH H T t JW a. a es K OS JS o T 3 U tt-I 60 J3 .-^ > J * 161 upside down through inversion and prefixes it with an additional pitch class; segment c inverts the inversion, resulting in a lowered transposition of segment a that includes segment b ' s prefix. These first three segments, containing 4 or 5 pitches each, are the longest segments of Fifty's opening passage; the remainder are no more than 3 pitches in length, the shortest being segment i ("You never told me this before"), which repeats a single pitch class throughout the entire 8-syllable sentence. In only one case (segment g, "You speak of her as a lover," <E4, D4, F3>) does the range of Fifty's segments expand beyond a tritone; the average range of all 10 segments is 4.2 semitones. It is also important to note in these graphs the number of directional changes within a single segment. In this Example, the maximum number of directional changes in any of Fifty's segments is 2. Finally, virtually all of these segments are contained within the upper half of Fifty's range, enhancing the projection of the voice but also suggesting a certain persistent intensity in his character. Example 4.14, a representation of the Friend's "aria" in Section B of the scene, vividly illustrates the contrast between the melodic characters of Fifty and his Friend. In only 26 measures, the Friend's vocal line traverses almost the entirety of its range. Where only one of Fifty's segments spanned more than a tritone, only one of the Friend's segments spans less than 11 semitones; where Fifty's average segment range was 4.2, the Friend's is 13.1. Segment f ("Carrying, carrying one up") is one of the widest-ranging at 18 semitones, but if its continuation is included (segment g, "up, out of oneself), the span increases to 19 with the ascent to C5 at the end of the phrase. Similarly, segment h ("And yet one lay in the 162 CD 43 vi 0 0 Cl 44 J3 — >> 4 * o _es si 4= •C, ct): u. l l If cn "3 cn ? ea: O "T •a ci 4) 9 T 3 CS 43 SI o 44 •a CCj -H 001 > cn u <u 8.*' o 43 ex, s u c o c o o l c ^ on o • C * £ °. a a U u 43 O ed V © ir, -a e CU u "a S c >> oo 2 £ 3 * ed 43 O T 3 di 6 0 4 3 163 shadow at her feet") spans 19 semitones, but in keeping with the text, its generally descending contour balances the ascending trajectory of segments f and g. The Friend's segments also outstrip Fifty's in terms of their length (2-11 pitches compared to Fifty's maximum of 5) and number of directional changes per segment (8 compared to Fifty's 2). Both these maxima—11 pitches with 8 changes of direction—coincide with the Friend's segment e ("And, as one watched her, her eyelashes were like silent wings"); the visual presentation of this segment on the graph clearly suggests the wing-like undulations of his sister's eyelashes. By focusing on the lyrical B section of 1.2 in discussing the Friend's vocal line, I do not mean to suggest that this lyricism is a consistent characteristic of his part throughout the opera. Rather, the Friend generally sings in one of two styles, both established in 1.2. In the outer sections of this scene, his delivery is similar to Fifty's in terms of segment length and limited pitch range, but is less assertive and frequently resorts to pitch repetition, suggesting the deadened, automatic parroting of dogma (cf. Examples 4.4, mm. 335-346, 4.11 and 4.12). Where his vocal line "comes alive" is in the central section where he sings of his sister, and this stylistic dichotomy is virtually consistent throughout the opera. The Friend's statement in II. 1 discussed in Chapter 3— " A s long as I'd spoken to no one [about my sister], everyone was indifferent to me" (II. 1.100-03)—is revealing in this regard. The Friend is drawn to Fifty, because he is the only person to whom he can "sing": only when he releases his feelings about his sister does he become a truly "lyric" tenor. But the increased span, length and complexity of his melodic segments in these lyrical passages reveal more than grief and love. In II. 1, Fifty conjectures, "You have never accepted her death. Perhaps that is why 164 I've felt so drawn to you" (II. 1.86-89), suggesting that what holds their friendship together is a shared rage against the State's control of death. As we have seen, 1.2 establishes Fifty's vocal style as generally declamatory, its melodic segments relatively short and limited in pitch range. This style is maintained throughout most of the opera, but again (as one would hope in a dramatic work) Fifty's vocal style does develop in interesting ways at particular crucial moments. Examples 4.15 and 4.16 show "neumatic" diagrams for two excerpts from II.5, the scene in which Fifty runs through the streets shouting that the lockets are empty. Example 4.15 graphs the opening of the scene. The average segment length is still only 3.3 pitches, despite two longer seven-note segments. But where in Example 4.13, only one segment out of ten spanned more than a tritone, nearly half of Example 4.15's segments span eight semitones or more. The other striking difference between the two Examples is that the segments in Example 4.13 encompass the entirety of Fifty's two-octave range. Example 4.16 shows the end of II.5, including Fifty's announcement that the lockets are empty. This graph resembles Example 4.13 in its preference for Fifty's upper octave and its still relatively short segment lengths. But the ranges of the individual segments are much wider, with nine segments spanning eleven semitones or more. The generally higher register for the first two-thirds of Example 4.16, coupled with the larger individual segment ranges, reflects the increasing intensity of Fifty's rant. The progressive lowering of his tessitura towards the end of the scene creates a steep ascent from C3 at the beginning of segment n ("The lockets are empty!") to his last words, shouted at the top of his range: "Empty! Empty!" c 3 p| ol fU § J " u o i r O £ c > 44 - E 43 o c CL> 60 S3 .5 O O C O O . u E v S o >\ OX . > c o CD 4 3 o > E c o 4 3 1 s o| 00 _> -aj « OtJI C 4 3 ed cn| C 45 o £ ol u • £ cn "7 44 - £ o 3 o T 3 C 00 0 0 1 tN ITS T f "a S cn ed ed 4> >> eb ^ 2 4 3 U . 4 3 L _ o 2 "51 cd 4 3 O T 3 4) Ct-I (SO 4 3 . - ' . _ i 166 o cn U •O. O c cn CD o o J3 I u u i I e c-> u H o, E u u S3 cj u JS H o E CD U o o w WI 81 « | cn o u c u 3 O >> "O c s a? C O D . 3 O a -a os a> T3 <D c 3 o JS-ts; -C S s 3 O u >> u JC u Si O: C U 5. JS • 3 : o O u '-5 c a CJ SO C 3^ - os *H rt, £P "oj .5 ol O S IT) "ft E W rt J 3 U - O U 00 JS •-167 Table 4.1 summarizes the features of Fifty's three graphs in order to compare more precisely their differences and similarities in range, segment length, and contour variability. Example Scene Overall Range in Semitones Range Of Segments (Min/Max/Avg) Length of Segments (Min/Max/Avg) Changes of Direction per Segment (Min/Max/Avg) 4.13 1.2 13 0 13 5.0 1 5 3.1 0 2 0.8 4.15 II.5 24 1 13 6.4 2 7 3.1 0 5 0.9 4.16 II.5 18 0 13 7.7 (9.5)* 1 6 3.2 0 3 1.0 * Since the range of single-note segments is always 0, inclusion of these segments in the calculation of average range lowers the average. The number 7.7 represents the average range of all segments; the number 9.5 in parentheses represents the average when single-note segments are not included in this calculation. Table 4.1. Comparison of Fifty's Vocal Lines in Examples 4.13, 4.15, 4.16. As noted above, the primary differences between 1.2 and II.5 involve the expansion of Fifty's range, not only within segments but overall. This is shown particularly vividly in Table 4.1 's column indicating the average range of individual segments in the three passages: at the opening of 1.2, the average range is only 5 semitones; at the beginning of II.5, this increases to 6.4 and by the end of this scene it has reached 7.7 (9.5 if the single-note segments are disregarded). What is equally remarkable about this table, however, is the consistency it reveals in the average length of Fifty's segments (3.1-3.2), and their contour variability (0.8-I. 0), despite the contrast in affect between the introductory 1.2 and his most climactic scene, II. 5. 168 1.3: The Keeper of the Lockets The Keeper, like the Friend, is defined in the opera by his function rather than his lifespan. Although the Keeper is the most politically powerful character of the opera, he is the representative of power rather than power itself. The existence of the State is only implied in the opera, through oblique references by the three principals to the fact that the Keeper is "sworn" or "appointed" to maintain the system of the lockets. References to the naming of infants by the State are always made in the passive rather than the active voice. That is, rather than "the State allots each newborn infant a certain lifespan," we hear statements grammatically similar to that made by the Keeper in his opening scene: "To each so many years are allotted" (1.3.531-32). A few measures later, Fifty asks the Keeper what will happen when he is no longer alive, to which the Keeper replies, "Another will be sworn to the Holy Law" (1.3.546-48). The use of the passive voice in such statements effaces the identity of the actual site and agency of power, in this case, "the State." In re-presenting this nameless, faceless State to the public, the Keeper literally serves as its mask. In this respect, the Keeper functions much like a priest, the intermediary between the ordinary public and the unseen God. Like that of the priest, the Keeper's acoustic mask—not only his words but the very intonations of his voice—bears the responsibility of "characterizing" the invisible, silent power for the benefit of its citizens; this is made eminently clear in the Keeper's reference to being "sworn to the Holy Law." The priest as a mouthpiece relaying messages to the people from an invisible, unknowable God is strongly reminiscent of the figures of Moses and Aaron. As a Jew, Canetti would of course have been familiar with this story, but in Crowds and Power he cites the Catholic priesthood in terms that strongly recall the function of the Keeper in The 169 Numbered. Canetti uses the Catholic rather than the Jewish priesthood as an example, however, undoubtedly because of the immeasurably greater institutional, political and financial power that the Catholic Church has accrued and wielded over the past two millennia: To the unbiased spectator Catholicism displays deliberation, calm, and spaciousness. . . . Catholicism owes the calm which, after its spaciousness, is for many its strongest attraction, to its great age and its aversion to anything violently crowd-like. . . . There has never been a state on earth capable of defending itself in so many ways against the crowd. Compared with the Church all other rulers seem poor amateurs. . . . [The worshippers] do not preach to each other; the word of the simple believer has no sanctity whatsoever. Everything he expects, everything which is to free him from the manifold burdens weighing on him, comes to him from a higher authority. He only understands what is explained to him. The sacred word is tendered to him carefully weighed and wrapped up; precisely because of its sanctity it is protected from h im. . . In all profounder questions of morality, he stands alone, confronted by the whole priesthood. In exchange for the moderately contented life which they procure for him he delivers himself entirely into their hands.5 5. Canetti, Crowds and Power, 154-55. Emphasis in the original. The original German reads as follows: "Am Katholizismus fallt bei unvoreingenommener Betrachtung eine gewisse Langsamkeit und Ruhe auf, verbunden mit groBer Breite. . .. Seine Ruhe, die neben seiner Breite auf viele die groBte Anziehung ausiibt, verdankt er seinem Alter und seiner Abneigung gegen alles heftig Massenhafte. . . . Es hat bis jetzt keinen Staat auf der Erde gegeben, der sich auf so mannigfaltige Weise gegen die Masse zu wehren verstand. An der Kirche gemessen, erscheinen aile Machthaber wie traurige Stumper.... Sie predigen nicht zueinander; das Wort des einfachen Glaubigen hat keinerlei Heiligkeit. Was immer er erwartet, was immer den mannigfachen Druck, der auf ihm lastet, losen soil, kommt von hbherer Stelle; was ihm nicht erklart wird, versteht er nicht einmal. Das heilige Wort wird ihm vorgekaut und dosiert verabreicht, es wird, eben als Heiliges, vor ihm geschiitzt. . . . In alien tieferen, moralischen Fragen steht er der Priesterschaft allein gegenuber; fur das halbwegs zufriedene Leben, das sie ihm ermbglicht, ist er ihr mit Haut und Haaren ausgeliefert." (Masse und Macht, 182-83). 170 The "deliberation, calm and spaciousness" that Canetti ascribes to the Church—Langsamkeit, Ruhe and Breite—also characterize the Keeper's vocal part. The Keeper is of course sung by a bass, his two-octave range from Eb2 to Eb4 typical of a basso profundo (although Lutyens simply designates the role as "bass"). In opera, basso profundo roles are commonly associated with magisterial characters such as Sarastro in The Magic Flute; Lutyens carries on this tradition in The Numbered. Significantly, where there are at least two of every other voice type in the opera, the Keeper's is the only bass role. The Keeper's first scene is 1.3, which immediately follows Fifty's first scene with his Friend. It is the Keeper's voice that begins the scene with the passage shown in Example 4.17 (mm. 524-33). At J = 60-66, the passage is set at a slower tempo than Fifty's opening passage in 1.2 at J = 144. But although the rate of melodic motion is relatively slow, its ambitus is fairly broad at 17 semitones (A2-D4). These two fundamental characteristics, together with the lower tessitura of the Keeper's part, embody the "deliberation, calm and spaciousness" befitting his role as protector of the "safety and continuance of society" (mm. 527-29). Although this passage is completely syllabic, it is not devoid of rhetorical vocal devices. For example, particularly at this slow tempo, the Keeper's 11-semitone descending glissando in m. 528 from D4 to Eb3 stretches out the crucial word "safety." The rest of this phrase ("and continuance of society") appropriately enough prolongs the Eb3 through repetition; it is also isolated for attention by its parlando setting. These measures (mm. 527-30) represent the only segment of the Keeper's melodic line in this passage that can be traced to a particular row form, in this case 18N<0,1,5,6,7,8,9>. (The sustained and repeated orchestral pentachord in mm. 528-30 I8N{7,2,5,4,5} supplies the vocal line's missing order 171 E|C#,B,Bb,Eb), (V)&fo Moaso {F;F#}> Example 4.17. Keeper's Opening Phrase, 1.3.524-33. 172 numbers <2,3,4>—C#, B, and Bb.) Otherwise, row forms can be identified only from the orchestral fabric, and often only tentatively; moreover, they are often incomplete. For example, the Keeper's opening pitch G3 in m. 524 is the second pitch class of the row form RT4N, as indicated on Example 4.17. The first ordered tetrachord of RT4N can be heard in the orchestral accompaniment in m. 524. Its next two pitch classes, E and Eb, have been introduced earlier, sustained since m. 522 as part of a chord played by the winds and brass. The ordered dyad <A, D> is sung by the Keeper. RT4N's next trichord {Db, B, Bb} is a subset of the sustained chord {Db, Bb, D, A , B} heard on the downbeat of m. 526, but the final pitch class of the row, C, is omitted. Only three of RT4N's twelve pitch classes are heard in the voice; more importantly, only two of these are heard consecutively in the row. The voice's ordered [027] trichord <G, A , D> cannot be found as a consecutive segment in any form of the row; it is therefore not characteristic of RT4N or any other row form. The next ordered trichord <E3, F3, B3>, of type [016], can be found in RI4N, but the rest of this row form is not suggested by the immediate context in the voice or the orchestra. It is interpretively suggestive that, in the Keeper's opening passage of the entire opera, the only melodic segment conforming to a particular row form refers to the "safety and continuance of society." That society is held intact by adherence to the law that "each man abides by his moment" (mm. 526-27), as the musical structure of the opera is to a certain extent held together by adherence to the row. Certainly, we cannot consistently interpret the row as a musical symbol of Law throughout the opera. But as Chapter 6 explores further, this symbolic association does indeed seem to be operative at certain crucial points of the opera. If we take this association as valid in this particular passage, then the 173 tenuous relationship between the Keeper's vocal line at any given point and the row form that seems to be active in the orchestral parts—if indeed any one row form can be identified at all—suggests that the Keeper is himself detached from the row, that is, "above the law." He invokes the row only when referring to society's dependence upon the law, but otherwise is removed from it. In this regard, Fifty's spoken remark to the Keeper in m. 544—"I know that your private name is One Hundred and Twenty-Two"—is telling: the Keeper's State-assigned lifespan transcends those of ordinary citizens; like God, he will outlive all around him. But if the Keeper's vocal line throughout most of this passage is not derived from the row, then what organizational strategies are at work? In the following analysis, I will argue that the passage exemplifies a particular characteristic of the Keeper's part throughout the opera: that is, its frequent suggestions of diatonicism. Example 4.17 shows how the passage can be subdivided into three segments: mm. 524-27, mm. 527-30, and mm. 531-33. The first two segments are separated by the end of a text sentence and by rests in m. 527, but they nevertheless can be heard as a single antecedent-consequent phrase, beginning and ending on the pitch G3. The pitch climax at D4, G's "dominant," on the downbeat of m. 528 falls very nearly at the halfway point of this phrase. As shown in Example 4.18, the ascent from G3 to D4 passes through accented arrivals on Bb3 and B3 on the downbeats of mm. 526 and 527, arpeggiating a G minor-major triad; the anacrustic C4 at the end of m. 527 functions as a passing note. Alternatively, or perhaps simultaneously, the passage can be heard in D minor, with the lower melodic strand <A2,D3,E3,F3> initiated by the A2 in m. 525 arpeggiating a D minor triad, with a passing note between the root and third. As an unordered tetrachord, {A, D, E, F} is a transposition into G minor's "dominant" of the Keeper's initial tetrachord <G, 174 A , D, Bb>, an arpeggiation of the G minor triad with a passing note A between its root and third. The analogy between the two interlinked arpeggiations is underscored by the fact that both G minor and D minor triads are registrally ordered in second inversion. m. 524 526 527 528 530 A A A A A A A A A A G minor: 1 2 3 03) J _ 5 _ 6 2 (\>2) 1 r T I r - . - i ic6 J A <~ - . - - 1 J J \>d >c6 n j • i c 6 - m -Uzm - , V : ' J , • ^ _ rt-^,. t " -j . . -| A"~"A T^A A A A _ T l ( E M ) ' D Dorian: 5 1 2 3 6 7 1 T6(DM) (reordered) Example 4.18. Keeper's Melodic Line, 1.3.524-30. Indeed, i f the Keeper's initial G3 is heard as scale degree 4, the phrase can be heard in D minor up until the disrupting B-natural on the downbeat of m. 527, coinciding with the literally disruptive word, "moment." Yet this B-natural does not disturb the gradual ascent to D4 on the downbeat of m. 528; rather, at this point the ascent becomes more "Dorian" than "minor," a modal interpretation fitting with the Keeper's quasi-liturgical role in the opera. The reference to the dominant minor of G foreshadows the arrival on D4 in m. 528. The descent from D4 back down to G3 in mm. 528-30 is less direct than the ascent in mm. 524-28. The melodic line can again be heard as two registrally distinct strata, this time moving in contrary rather than parallel motion. The upper strand beginning with the climactic D4 is interrupted in mm. 528-29, leaping down to its "dominant," A3 on the downbeat of m. 530 and descending swiftly and chromatically to G3 at the end of the measure. The lower strand approaches G3 from Eb3 four semitones below, inversionally 175 symmetrical around G3 with the B3 sustained on the downbeat of m. 527. The Eb3 is repeated throughout mm. 528-29, rising to G3 in m. 530 through E3. Although this lower strand does not follow a completely chromatic path through F and F#, the gradual melodic convergence on G from above and below is nevertheless audible. The omission of F and F# may be significant, however, in that the ordered pentachord <Eb3, A3, G#3, E3, G3> in mm. 529-30 blends together the two primary leitmotifs of the opera. If we consider the E3 a kind of brief "consonant skip" elaborating the chromatic descent from G#3 to G3, the remaining ordered tetrachord <Eb3, A3, G#3, G3> is a reordered T6 transposition of the Disbelief Motive that therefore incorporates the same pitch-class tritone {Eb,A} of the original. Reinstating the E3, the last ordered tetrachord of the phrase <A3, G#3, E3, G3> anticipates the Entrapment Motive <Ab, G, Eb, Gb>, to be established in 1.6. Significantly, the entire pentachord sets the text, "the safety and continuance of society depend upon that," and the blending of the two leitmotifs here suggests both a disguised "disbelief of this statement (the Keeper after all knows that the system is a hoax), and the degree to which the citizens are trapped by death. It was noted above that the arpeggiated D minor melodic strand in mm. 525-26 foreshadowed the arrival on D4 in m. 528. But it also foreshadows the entire third segment of the Keeper's melody from mm. 531-33. The vocal line in mm. 531-33 cannot be traced to any row form, but there is a strong suggestion of D minor. The first pitch of the segment is A2, the same pitch that initiated the D minor strand in m. 525, and every remaining pitch class of the segment is enharmonically consistent with the key of D minor. Moreover, mm. 532-33 consist of an arpeggiated root position D minor triad followed by the ordered trichord <C#3, E3, Bb3>, outlining its VII°7 chord: a kind of open-ended tonic-dominant progression 176 in D minor. Admittedly, these allusions to harmonic functionality are not supported by the orchestral accompaniment; the suggestion of tonality is nevertheless an important feature of Lutyens's melodic characterization of the Keeper. His own function, like his melodic character, is literally "conservative": it is he who maintains the laws and traditions of society in order to ensure its undisturbed perpetuation. Example 4.19 graphs the opening of 1.3, in which the Keeper's vocal character is introduced. Table 4.2 summarizes the principal features of the graphs shown in Examples 4.13, 4.14 and 4.19 in order to facilitate comparison between the three characters. The Keeper's graph resembles the Friend's more than Fifty's in its overall range (19 semitones) and in the ranges of its individual segments, almost all of which span an interval of at least 11 semitones. Yet with the exception of the last segment i ("As long as I am here, there will be no confusion"), the Keeper's part lacks the mobility of the Friend's, with most segments containing only 1 or 2 changes of direction. His melodic line is imbued in these opening phrases (and throughout the opera) with the "deliberation, calm, and spaciousness"— required of his office. Character Example Scene Overall Range in Semitones Range Of Segments (Min/Max/Avg) Length of Segments (Min/Max/Avg) Changes of Direction per Segment (Min/Max/Avg) Fifty 4.13 1.2 13 0 11 4.2 1 5 3.2 0 2 0.9 Friend 4.14 1.2 23 2 19 13.1 2 11 5.6 1 8 3.0 Keeper 4.19 1.3 19 0 17 11.7 1 10 4.8 0 7 1.8 Table 4.2. Comparison of Examples 4.13, 4.14 and 4.19. 177 Cd •s c o n . 3 13 G o> G , i 4)1 C e o E cd X ! -o1 O O <NI V O E u x u 4) U3 u tl o cnl a 3 E s x o -*-» c *>, a 51 4) u X E 3 c ed O cn cd 4> u 4> X O X E- H E-c-» * E * 0 0 C c c o c o o o c 4> X '% u i~ u X t-» 4) V -u X E cd 0 0 c o T f T f I T f u ii a eu a* H "a S o X » cd X ej T3 4> ct-I o O X 178 One final aspect of the Keeper's melodic line is worthy of note here, and that is the repeated Eb3 in mm. 528-29. The pitch class Eb is important in the Keeper's part, marking the outermost extremes of his two-octave range from Eb2 to Eb4. It also serves as a kind of tonal centre, despite the seemingly contrary suggestions of G minor and D minor in these opening measures. Nevertheless, the chant-like repetition in mm. 528-29 of Eb3, the midpoint of the Keeper's range, prefigures its recurrences later in the scene at points of particular structural and expressive importance. For example, later in the scene the Keeper says to Fifty, "As long as I am here, there will be no confusion" (mm. 541-44), leading into the passage shown in Example 4.20. In m. 545, Fifty asks, "But when you are no longer here?" The Keeper replies, "Another will be sworn to the Holy Law" (mm. 546-48). This is the Keeper's first explicit reference to the Law, and his use of the adjective "Holy" underscores his role as representative of a State that has consolidated its power partly by appropriating for its own purposes the language and the aura of sanctity of organized religion. The liturgical language here is further enhanced by Lutyens's melodic setting of the phrase. After its first three words, "Another will be" in m. 546, the Keeper is silent throughout m. 547 while a brief melodic gesture is heard in the orchestra. This pregnant pause in his singing invests the completion of the sentence in m. 548— "sworn to the Holy Law"—with particular dramatic and cadential weight. These words are set, chant-like, to a repeated Eb3, with a descent to its lower neighbour Db3 on the penultimate syllable of the phrase. The elaboration of the "final" Eb3 by Db3 gives this segment a modal quality, accentuating the liturgical associations of the repeated Eb3's, and the sense of cadential arrival is further strengthened by the indication allargando. 179 Example 4.20. 1.3.544-50. 180 Another example of the cadential importance of Eb occurs in mm. 648-49, shown in Example 4.21. Fifty has been questioning the Keeper about the opening of the lockets. He wants to know what the Keeper does when he finds a dead man without a locket: Fifty. You come to a man, honoured all his life, who rendered great service to his fellow men. There—in front of his relatives, admirers, friends—you discover him a murderer. That would frighten you. . . . Fear could confuse your judgment. You guess the age wrong. The contract might not hold. Keeper. The contract holds. (1.3.624-49) The tempo throughout the scene has fluctuated between J = 60 and J = 92, with the exception of a short deceleration to J = 50 in mm. 538-39. In m. 640, the tempo slows again to J = 50, but in m. 642, the tempo increases slightly to J = 60, increasing again in m. 645 to J = 72. At m. 645, Fifty's reaches what is nearly the high point of his range at E4, singing "The contract might not hold" in a provocatively aggressive manner, punching out the words of the text fortissimo, every word accented (the last marked sffz) and further emphasized by surrounding rests. The Keeper's reply begins in m. 648, the tempo slowed again to J = 60. Contradicting Fifty with all his vocal might, he sings "The contract holds" to a descending <Bb2,Eb2> perfect fifth, the fortissimo arrival on Eb2 and the allargando investing this statement with the weight and finality of a dominant-tonic cadence. Unlike Fifty's violently accentuated words, supported by similarly pointed chords in the orchestra—all with Eb2 in the bass—the Keeper's phrase is marked with a slur and accompanied by a sustained, fp orchestral chord as well as a supportive doubling of the <Bb2,Eb2> dyad in the bassoon. 181 Example 4.21. 1.3.648-49. 182 Chapter 3 considered how Lutyens uses special vocal techniques to help establish distinct vocal identities for each of the three main characters. The present chapter has explored how, in "normal singing," she uses subtle differences in melodic shape towards the same end. She accomplishes this largely without resorting to the traditional operatic technique of leitmotif, with the notable exception of Fifty's Disbelief Motive and the similar Entrapment Motive, which acquire all the more resonance by not being lost in a plethora of character motives. Through analysis of these melodic passages, the chapter has also introduced some basic aspects of Lutyens's serial style, a topic that will be investigated further in Chapter 5. 183 Chapter 5. Lutyens's Serial Language. This chapter is devoted principally to a study of Lutyens's use of serialism in The Numbered. But from a study of The Numbered alone, the reader cannot know to what extent Lutyens's treatment of the row in the opera is typical or atypical of her style in general. Therefore, the chapter's discussion of The Numbered is prefaced by an introduction to Lutyens's treatment of the row in two other pieces. The first is the Chamber Concerto, Op. 8, No. 1 for Nine Instruments (oboe, clarinet, bassoon, horn, trumpet, trombone, violin, viola and cello), which she herself considered her first serial composition.1 As noted in the opening paragraph of this dissertation, this is the work deemed by The Oxford History of English Music the first British composition "of any significance" to employ serial methods.2 The Concerto was written in 1939-40, at the beginning of her career; the second piece explored in this opening section of the chapter, the 1971 Requiescat: In Memoriam Igor Stravinsky for soprano and string trio, was composed much later when she was 65. These works were chosen in part because they represent two phases of Lutyens's career (one early and one late, one pre-Numbered, one post-Numbered), and in part because they represent two ends of the spectrum in terms of her treatment of the row (one quite flexible, the other more rigorously structured). In fact, the use of the word "serial" to describe the Concerto, Op. 8, #1 requires some qualification, for as we shall see this piece is not based on the strict application of the 1. Lutyens, A Goldfish Bowl, 99. Elisabeth Lutyens, Six Chamber Concerto, Op. 8. No. 1. Nine Instruments (London: Chester, 1947). Recorded on Elisabeth Lutyens (1906-83), Jane's Minstrels, Jane Manning and Roger Montgomery, N M C D011, 1993. Lutyens also notes in ,4 Goldfish Bowl (p. 99) the superficial similarities between the concerto and Webern's Op. 24 Concerto for Nine Instruments, but dismisses them as coincidental since she did not know of the Webern concerto's existence until 1946. 184 classical serial transformations to a single, twelve-tone row. For example, the first movement is a Theme and Variations based on the fifteen-note row represented in Example 5.1. This row uses all twelve pitch classes, but repeats D, F, and F# once each. (Italicized order numbers on the Example are included for future reference.) 0, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10,11, 12, 13,14 <Eb, D, F, F#, B, C, G, C#, A, Bb, D, F#, G#, F, E> Example 5.1. The Row of the Chamber Concerto, Mvmt. I. Example 5.2 reproduces the first seventeen measures of the movement. In the first section (mm. 1-10), the row is presented three times in a three-part canon. Example 5.3 shows how the row is segmented in the first six measures of the movement into three two-measure gestures marked a, b and c, which are presented by the oboe, violin and trumpet respectively. a b c Obc >e & -m < \ ts /iolin ,_ 3 • — <— CJ - t e l \ \ t m i -•umpg H T T ) — 4=j m , r r1 m *, 1 mlPJ 1 Pff7 — j -Example 5.3. The Row as Segmented in M m . 1-6. 2. John Caldwell, The Oxford History of English Music (New York and Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999), Vol. 2, 432. The other composers Caldwell identifies in this category are Benjamin Frankel and Humphrey Searle. 185 to Edward Clark C H A M B E R C O N C E R T O N9 1 For Nine Instruments Opus 8. N? 1 I Theme and Variations E L I S A B E T H L U T Y E N S (1940) Clar inet i n B l Trumpet In BS, T e n o r TrombttOe V i . t i n Example 5.2. Chamber Concerto, Op. 8, No. 1, Mvmt. I: Theme and Variations, M m . 1-17 (cont'd on next page). Example 5.2. Chamber Concerto (cont'd). 187 Subsequent entries of the row—also at two-measure intervals—use a similar subdivision, into 4-, 5- and 6-note subsegments involving three instruments (one brass, one string, one wind). As indicated on Example 5.4, each row statement also enters an octave lower than the previous one. High a: Oboe b: Violin c: Trumpet Middle a: Horn ft.Viola c: Clarinet Low a: Ten. Trb. b: Cello c: Bassoon Mm. 1 - 2 3 - 4 5 - 6 7 - 8 9 - 10 Example 5.4. Organization of Chamber Concerto, M m . 1-10. The three statements of this tripartite row allow each of the nine instruments to be heard once in the opening section. Note the palindromic texture of this scheme: in mm. 1-2 and 9-10, a single instrument plays a single motive; in mm. 2-3 and 7-8, two instruments play two different motives in counterpoint; and in mm. 5-6, the point of highest textural density, three instruments play the three different motives in counterpoint. Although the fifteen-note row can be deduced analytically from a study of the score in mm. 1-10, its identity as a "row" is not confirmed until mm. 11-14, presumably the first variation. In this second, brief section, the series shown in Example 5.1 is heard in retrograde as <E, F, G#, F#, D, Bb, A , C#, G, C, B, F#, F, D, Eb>, but segmented differently than it was in the previous measures: oboe-then-bassoon play the <E, F> dyad imitative ly, followed by 188 horn-then-trombone with the next dyad, <G#, F#>.3 The viola-then-cello continue imitatively with the next ordered tetrachord, <D, Bb, A , C#>, and the last seven pitch classes of the row are heard in the clarinet-then-bassoon, beginning at the anacrusis to m. 13. In this retrograde statement, no more than two instruments are heard at once, and each segment is played only twice. The different segmentation of the same series cements the row's identity as a row, rather than a series of three fixed, ordered gestures. However, following this apparent establishment of the row, the serial derivations of the movement's remaining variations become progressively more difficult to follow. The other movements of the Concerto do not use the fifteen-note row of the Theme and Variations, but use different rows of varying cardinalities. At the beginning of the first movement we saw Lutyens's use of retrograde; in subsequent movements such as the Scherzo (the beginning of which is reproduced as Example 5.7), she also employs inversion, as indicated on the score. In general throughout the Concerto, the contours of individual melodic gestures occasionally recall those of the opening series, but the piece as a whole is not governed by a single row, nor even by the principle of aggregate completion. Although the Concerto suggests the influence of Webern in its brevity (four movements in less than eight minutes), its transparent texture, and its canonic treatment of short, often disjunct melodic gestures, Lutyens can hardly be said to have imitated his compositional procedures in this work; although she found the aural experience of Webern's music inspirational, she would not yet have known much about his procedures, and the techniques she did use she could already have taken from her study of the Purcell fantasias. 3. The missing sharp on the horn's notated D in m. 11 is probably a misprint. 189 III S c h e r z o iht = ft* 1 ' F L ^ H 1 r 1 *fE ft* r 10 t r — >• t»r T v — 1 poeo f ' -IT ^ ^ = 1 > >• rff—err* 1 ft J hT"r T i -poeo/' T f f ^ "r pr sftpp^Z. > _ _ [ P i == mp —sz. > >. =» r pr mp ———, f '|, • ' l » " 1 — f J i p , - -fr-« r— » i? r.-^^— p —= — V H l r r l iJ—1 fftp ——1 C l a r . T r p t . T e n o r T r o m . V i o l a ' C e l l o Example 5.7. Chamber Concerto, Op. 8, No. 1, Mvmt. I l l : Scherzo, M m . 1-11. 190 The Concerto illustrates some important points about the origins and further development of Lutyens's serialism. Certainly, her relationship with Edward Clark beginning in 1938 broadened her exposure to the serial repertoire to include the music of the Second Viennese School, and deepened her understanding of the technical aspects of twelve-tone composition. But, as she claimed throughout her life, her approach to serial composition was her own and not simply an aping of composers whose music she admired. Her use of the word "serial" to describe the Concerto suggests that, from the beginning, her concept of serialism allowed for a great deal of latitude in the compositional treatment (and sometimes even the length) of the row. At some point between the completion of the Concerto in 1940 and the clearly twelve-tone cantata O Saisons! O Chateaux! of 1946, Lutyens began to base her compositions on rows with twelve pitch classes.4 Series charts in Lutyens's hand survive for several works, although none earlier than 1952.5 It did not take long for her to earn the nickname "Twelve-Tone Lizzie," but it was not entirely deserved, since Lutyens rarely treated the row of a piece as sacrosanct.6 Two of her more tightly organized serial compositions are the Op. 27 Motet (Excerpta Tractati Logico-Philosophici), composed in 1954, and the 1971 Requiescat: In Memoriam Igor Stravinsky for soprano and string trio. The Motet is organized around a single twelve-4. O Saisons, O Chateaux! has been recorded on vinyl (Schoenberg and Britten, Marilyn Tyler, Royal Philharmonic Orchestra, Norman del Mar, EMI ASD 612) and more recently on compact disc (Red Leaves, Teresa Cahill, Brunei Ensemble, Christopher Austin, Cala C A C D 77005). 5. The British Library holds numerous series charts for Lutyens's compositions (BL Add. Mss. 64789-64790). 6. The nickname was coined in the 1950's by a B B C radio engineer with whom she occasionally worked. See Harries and Harries, A Pilgrim Soul, 124. 191 tone row formed from two [014589] hexachords. But the technique in this piece is as much about the manipulation of characteristic trichords, tetrachords and hexachords to form aggregates as it is about the strict treatment of twelve-tone rows. 7 The Requiescat is reproduced as Example 5.8. Its text is taken from William Blake's poem, "The Couch of Death," and the tenderness of its music is heartfelt. Lutyens felt a deep affection for Stravinsky, with whom she had shared a warm friendship since their introduction by Edward Clark in 1954 (Clark and Stravinsky had been friends since 1911); in her autobiography, she describes the Requiescat as "an expression of grief—and hope—for a person much treasured; a frail, vibrant, and never, never dull old man whom I had come to love and for whom I felt lonely."9 The Requiescat employs only an eleven-note row, perhaps in symbolic reference to the incompleteness caused by Stravinksy's death. The soprano's first eleven pitch classes (< F#, G#, E, D, B, C, Eb, Db, F, G, Bb >) have been taken here as the referential row ("S") of the Requiescat. Each of the four parts uses only a single form of this row for the duration of the piece: TOS in the soprano, I8S in the violin, T9S in the viola, and I7S in the cello, as shown in Example 5.9. Note that the soprano and violin both end on the pitch class Bb. 7. Lutyens chose the Motet's text, based on excerpts from Ludwig Wittgenstein's Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus, because it suggested the kind of structure she was putting together from the row's constituent segments. For a more detailed discussion, see Laurel Parsons, "Music and Text in Elisabeth Lutyens's Wittgenstein Motet," Canadian University Music Review 20/1 (1999), 71-100. The Motet (Excerpta Tractati Logico-Philosophici) (London: Schott, 1965) was recorded in 1966 by the John Alldis Singers {Lutyens, Gardner, Joubert and Naylor, Argo ZRG 5426). 8. The Requiescat was first published in the journal Tempo 98 (1972), n.p. After Stravinsky's death, Lutyens was among seventeen composers invited by Tempo to contribute a short piece in his memory. The other composers included Boulez, Milhaud, Davies, Birtwhistle, Tippett, Berio, Schnittke, Carter, Copland, and Sessions. The score is now commercially available through the University of York Music Press, and the piece is recorded by Jane Manning on the CD Elisabeth Lutyens (1906-83), N M C DO 11, 1993. 9. Lutyens, A Goldfish Bowl, 312. 192 REQUIESCAT Soprano: S = < F#, G#, E, D, B , C, Eb, Db, F, G, Bb > Violin: I8S = < D, C, E, F#, A , Ab, F, G, Eb, Db, Bb > Viola: T9S = < Eb, F, C#, B , G#, A , C, Bb, D, E, G > Cello: I7S = < C#, B , Eb, F, Ab, G, E, F#, D, C, A > Example 5.8. Requiescat In Memoriam Igor Stravinsky (1971), (cont'd on next page). Reprinted by permission from the University of York Music Press. 193 Example 5.8. Requiescat (cont'd). 194 Order Positions: 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 Soprano: S = < F#, G#, E, D, B, C, Eb, Db, F, G, Bb > Viol in: I8S = < D, C, E, F#, A , Ab, F, G, Eb, Db, Bb > Viola: T9S = < Eb, F, C#, B, G#, A , C, Bb, D, E, G > Cello: I7S = < C#, B, Eb, F, Ab, G, E, F#, D, C, A > Example 5.9. Row Forms of the Requiescat. Throughout the piece, the soprano line is referential for the strings in terms of rhythm, articulation and dynamics as well as pitch: the rhythmic patterns in the voice reflect the rhythm of the text; the rhythmic patterns in the strings imitate those of the voice, but in advance, "foretelling" what is to come. The double bar lines in the soprano part occur at the end of each text clause, with those of the string trio almost always placed one measure before, reinforcing visually the anticipatory relationship of the strings to the voice. (The strings' shared double bar lines reinforce their identity as a group, but may also be intended simply to facilitate rehearsal). Preceding the entrance of the voice in m. 4, the strings begin their respective row forms at exactly one-measure intervals, beginning with the lowest registral strand and gradually moving upwards. That is, the cello begins in m. 1, followed by the viola in m. 2, and the violin in m. 3; the gradually accruing texture prepares a soft, chromatic bed of sound for the voice, which enters ppp in m. 4. Characteristic of Lutyens's serial music is the bridging or overlap by a row statement of two adjacent sections in the musical form; the Requiescafs first row statement exemplifies this principle. As shown in Example 5.10, the soprano's first statement of S is subdivided into 4 segments marked a through d on the example (and on the score). Double bar lines on 195 the example correspond with those on the score, and (generally) mark the ends of the three row segments. S ^ S a b c d m f • r—h m— • 1 *> •fcF" 1 mm. 4-9 , 10-13 15- 19 22 2' 1 fr* t 2 ' 7 "All was still" "The Moon hung not out her "and the stars faintly "the breath of night slept lamp," glimmered in the summer sky;" among the leaves" Example 5.10. Segmentation of S, Mm. 4-22. Segment a consists of only two pitches, F#4 and G#4, and ends with the double bar line at the end of m. 9 (rehearsal number 1 on the score); segment b comprises the ordered [0135] tetrachord <E5,D5,B3,C5> ending in m. 13 (rehearsal number 2). Segment c is the whole-tone tetrachord <Eb5,Db5,F5,G5>, but segment d consists of only a single pitch, Bb4, which occurs after the double bar line at the end of m. 22. Although this Bb4 ends the first row statement, it begins a new text clause ("the breath of night slept among the leaves") and a new musical segment, the ordered whole-tone trichord <Bb4, F#4, G#4>, whose second pitch F#4 initiates the soprano's second row statement. In terms of order numbers, the three additional row forms in the strings are partitioned identically to the soprano's in this first section, that is, as \01 \ 2345 | 6789 \ 11. Segments a and b are presented in canon, while segments c and d are homorhythmic among the three instruments; the repeated chord in mm. 19-21 is formed from the last pitch class of each row form. The last pitch of the violin's row form I8S is also Bb4, and so despite the delayed 196 completion of S in the soprano, its final pitch is prefigured by the placement of Bb4 in the upper register of the strings' repeated chord. Throughout the rest of the piece, S and the three string row forms are segmented in a slightly different way, with the final pitch class no longer separated from the rest of the row but included with the preceding whole-tone tetrachord, in other words as | 01 \ 2345 \ 6789t \. That is, segments c and d now combine to form what I shall call segment cd. This consolidation is quite audible at the end of the second statement of S. Three measures before rehearsal number 6, the strings reach the final pitches of their respective row forms and sustain the resulting [013] trichord {Bb4,G4,A3} until just before the end of the next measure. While this chord is still sounding, the soprano arrives on her closing Bb4, merging with the same pitch in the violin; significantly, the double bar lines in the soprano and strings are aligned at this point. The overall structure of the work in terms of these segments is illustrated graphically in Examples 5.11a and l i b . In both figures, rehearsal numbers are laid out in bold type along the bottom; in Example 5.11a, measure numbers are also included in normal type. Example 5.1 la shows the consistently staggered entries of the a and b segments in contrast with the homorhythmic instrumental presentation of the c and d (or cd) segments; it also shows how the voice always enters after the instruments. Example 5.1 lb reduces this structure even further, illustrating the Requiescat's essentially palindromic ordering of segments around the first cd segment, between rehearsal numbers 5 and 6 (mm. 34-40). The segments are not re-ordered internally, however, and consequently this palindromic structure does not create any retrograde row forms. 197 Soprano (S) a b e d a b e d Violin (I8S) a b e d a b e d Viola (T9S) a b c d a b e d Cello (I7S) a b c d a b c d m. 1 10 14 19 22 23 24 30 34 37 38 Soprano (S) b a c d b Violin (I8S) b a c d b Viola (T9S) b a c d b Cello (17S) b a c d b a m. 40 45 53 56 58 63 Example 5.11a. Structure of the Requiescat. Rehearsal #'s: a coda 10 Example 5.11b. Structure of the Requiescat (reduced). 198 The idea of retrograde is engaged nevertheless in the Requiescafs "coda" (mm. 71-74). This is illustrated in Example 5.12, a reduction of the last 12 measures of the piece. Each measure of the example represents roughly three measures of the score, but the inter-onset durations of individual pitches and their entries with respect to barlines in the score are approximate; the example is designed to reflect the order of entries rather than exact rhythmic values. m. 63 66 69 72 75 Example 5.12. The End of the Requiescat (Mm. 63-74). In m. 63, the cello begins its last statement of segment a as if beginning its row form again; as in earlier statements of segment a, the viola, violin and voice follow suit in mm. 64-66. However, S is not completed: the soprano sustains her G#4 from m. 69 through to the beginning of m. 73, against which the strings play their respective a segments in retrograde. Not only are the segments themselves in retrograde, but so is the order in which they are heard, with the violin entering first in m. 71, the viola later in the measure, and the cello following in m. 72. Once the three retrograde segments have been completed, the soprano 199 repeats the word "eternity" to G#4 in m. 73. This word is marked "echo" as i f the dying man is moving farther away. The violin, viola and cello play their last pitches (D4,Eb4 and C#4 respectively) simultaneously in m. 74, creating an [0127] tetrachord with the soprano's G#4. The soprano's whole-step ascent <F#4,G#4> creates a sense of moving on as well as up, since it not only leaves the row unfinished, but reverses the traditional melodic cadential formula of the whole-step descent to the tonic. At the same time, the outer fifth of the final simultaneity {C#4, G#4} suggests a degree of closure, although it is destabilized by the dissonant pitch classes D4 and Eb4 in the viola and cello. The song ends much like the human life it celebrates: something has ended, but something continues—perhaps (as Blake's poem suggests) the soul itself, but at very least the memories and music that her beloved friend Stravinsky has left behind. In the Requiescat, even though row segments may be re-ordered, either internally or with respect to each other, it is always possible to determine how the pitch structure at any given moment is derived from the referential row or its (ordered or unordered) segments. This is not always true of Lutyens's serial music, however, as she often appears to use the row simply as a source for melodic motives, embedding them in otherwise non-serial contexts in which the ordering of the row exerts little control, and in which aggregates may not be completed as regularly as the twelve-tone method usually dictates. At times, the row may be abandoned altogether for more or less extended passages or entire movements. As a result, it is almost impossible to make systematic generalizations about her serial practice, and this is as true of The Numbered as it is of Lutyens's oeuvre as a whole. 200 Serialism in The Numbered The row N on which The Numbered is based was introduced in Chapter 4. It is written out in Lutyens's hand with all its transpositions and inversions on a series chart held by the British Library; this chart is reproduced in Example 5.13. At the top left of the page, the prime form of the row is notated in whole notes, beginning with G#. The inversion of this row around its initial pitch class (this time notated as Ab) follows the double bar line. The second staff transposes these two row forms down a semitone so that both forms begin on the pitch class G; each subsequent staff continues this pattern of T l 1 transpositions. That Lutyens did not consider the row chart a sacred document is suggested by the condition of the manuscript, with its smudges, tears, and what appears to be a shoeprint two-thirds of the way down the page (other pages attached to this one are embellished with the pawprints of Lutyens's cat). Circled or bracketed row segments on the score reflect her frequent use of row forms as a source for melodic motives rather than complete successions of twelve pitch classes. The arrows I have added in the left and right margins indicate those row forms containing the original transpositions of the Disbelief Motive and the Entrapment Motive, respectively; Lutyens has circled the former but not the latter. Lutyens's checks and x's in the margins perhaps functioned as locators to help her find whatever row form she was working from at a given time. If so, the heavier blotches in the right margin might indicate more frequently used row forms, although this would require a thorough statistical exploration of the score, one that I shall not undertake in this dissertation. The numbers at the bottom right are presumably her timings for various unidentified passages in the opera. Without clefs it is difficult to discern the identity of the chords scattered near the bottom of 201 202 the page, and the reason for what appears to be an 8/8 time signature is unclear. What is clear is that Lutyens used her row chart not only for reference but to some extent as scrap paper, reflecting her generally relaxed attitude towards the row. Now let us proceed to a discussion of the characteristics and properties of this row, following which the chapter will outline Lutyens's serial language in the opera, demonstrating the varying degrees of freedom with which she treats the row, with examples from the score. Although this chapter's focus is on Lutyens's treatment of individual row forms, this is not to suggest that she does not use row forms in counterpoint; examples of the latter will be seen in subsequent chapters, particularly Chapter 6. In many passages throughout the opera, the serial derivations are clear, although pitch classes or segments of a row form may be revisited before a statement has been completed, and row segments may be internally reordered. Even the row's first statement involves these sorts of variations, as is shown in Example 5.14. This is the five-measure orchestral introduction of the Prologue, played prior to the curtain's rise in m. 6. It consists entirely of a gradual accumulation of N into a sustained aggregate. However, in m. 4, the pitch class C# arrives before E, which is heard in m. 5 as the lowest pitch of the concluding simultaneity {E5, Eb6, D7} in the flutes, oboes, clarinets, xylophone and piano. This is a very slight reordering, but in other passages, the reorderings and fragmentations of the row are so extreme that serial analysis proves completely inconclusive. One of the tasks of analysis throughout the dissertation will be to determine what alternative, non-serial pitch strategies seem to be at work in passages where traditional serial analysis fails. 204 Properties of the Row In order to illustrate an important structural feature of the row, Example 5.15 shows the row N in its normative ordering while Example 5.16 presents a slightly modified version which I shall call N \ i 1 1 L . —tr= m H r a * h • — i • — w Example 5.15. N . Example 5.16. N \ In N ' , the positions of the pitch classes F# and G have been reversed, and other pitch classes (indicated with an asterisk) written in different registers. The first and last pitch .classes of N and N'—G# and D—form a tritone. The beams on Example 5.16 show how the span between G# and D is traversed in two directions at once: the upper beams connect the "ascending" chromatic series of pitch classes < G#, A, Bb, B, C, C#, D >, while the lower 205 beams connect the "descending" series < G#, G, F#, F, E, Eb, D >. As each series interrupts the other at various points, the two series can be said to form a pair of discontinuous chromatic continuities. This inversional relationship between the two chromatic strands of N' produces certain symmetries among its adjacent subsets. Smaller interval classes of one or two semitones generally occur towards the beginning or ending of the row, while larger ics of three to six semitones occur in the middle. Furthermore, as illustrated in Example 5.17, the contiguous unordered trichords of N' form a palindrome: the outer trichords are of type [012], progressing inwards through [013], [014] and [015] to the two overlapping [016] trichords at the centre of the row. The [012] and [015] trichords map onto each other under 19, while 110--, I [016] [016] [014] « . [014] • • • • • • [013] > , [013] t G# G F# A Bb F B C E C# Eb D « » 4 •> • • • • [012] [015] [015] [012] 1 ' 19 = ± - 1 Example 5.17. Contiguous Trichords of N \ the remaining trichords map onto each other under 110. Similarly, the outer unordered [0123] tetrachords of N \ {G#,G,F#,A} and {E,C#,Eb,D}, map onto each other under 110 (along with T7 or its inverse T5), while the central [0127] tetrachord {Bb,F,B,C}maps onto itself under 110. Finally, the construction of N' from two inversionally related chromatic series results in 206 the division of the row into two unordered chromatic hexachords, naturally related by T6 as well as by 19. Overall, N ' exhibits interesting 19 and 110 symmetries: the hexachords map onto one another under T6 and 19, onto themselves under 13, the T6-dual of 19; the T6-dual of 110 is 14, which maps the chromatic septachords of Example 5.18 onto one another. That Lutyens indeed conceived of N as a pair of inversionally-related chromatic traversals of the tritone span <G#,D> is strongly suggested by her upward and downward stems on the original version of N on the series chart in Example 5.13, although the stems are roughly drawn and not applied to all pitches of the row. Since the only substantial difference between N and N ' is the reversed order of the pitch classes F# and G, N is characterized by many of the same inversional relationships and symmetries as N \ For the purposes of comparison, Example 5.19 shows the contiguous trichords of N and Example 5.20 its discrete tetrachords. 110 . ^ C016] [016] Q0L3J) ^ • [014] [013] • » • • [013] • • « *> G# F# G A Bb F B C E C# Eb D • • «* • » o » [012] [015] [015] [012] l ' 1 9 ' i Example 5.19. Contiguous Trichords of N . 207 , 110 —1 G# F# G A Bb F B C E C# Eb D * » « » • 0 (F#)=(A)(I)0123 (Bb)=(C)(I)0127 (C#HE)(I)0123 . — T7 • > « T5 Example 5.20. The Discrete Tetrachords of N . The only substantial difference occurs in Example 5.19, where the first [014] trichord of N ' has become an [013], disturbing the palindromic symmetry of the unordered trichords; on Example 5.20, however, the 110-relationships among the tetrachords remain unaffected by the F#/G change in order. Why then did Lutyens choose the less symmetric ordering of N's first trichord? Towards a solution to this question, Example 5.21 juxtaposes the first and last trichords of N . 19 Example 5.21. First and Last Trichords of N . Let us first consider the last ordered trichord, <C#, Eb, D>. This is the end of the process of convergence on the pitch class D that began at the beginning of the row with G#. C# and Eb therefore function as lower and upper semitone neighbours to the "goal" pitch 208 class D. This produces the ordered pitch interval series <+2, -1>. Now looking at the first trichord, <G#, F#, G>, we find that this particular ordering of the three pitch classes mimics (in inversion) the goal-directed completion of the row on D: the first trichord now follows the ordered pitch interval pattern <-2, +1>. G# and F# function as upper and lower neighbours to G, respectively. The adjusted order of N's first trichord therefore underscores the 19 relationship between the outer trichords more strongly than did the first trichord of N \ It also strengthens the motivic salience of the outer [012] trichords by relating their pitch class contours: the first trichord's <-2, +1> is inverted by the last ordered trichord's <+2, -1>. Two more variants are produced by retrograde and retrograde-inversion forms of the row—<+l, -2 > and <—1, +2> respectively—and we have already seen motivic instances of these pitch-class interval patterns in the opera's melodic structure. These include the Friend's first words "But it's been proved!" (<G, F#, G#>, 1.2.324-25), and later in the same scene his statement "I had a little sister" (<D, Eb, Db>, 1.2.350). While N reinforces the (ordered) 19 mapping between the outer trichords, at the same time it draws attention to the transpositional relationship between them: the first (unordered) trichord {F#, G, G#} maps onto the last, {C#, D, Eb}, under T7, and the last onto the first under T5. This transpositional relationship is analogous to the tonic-dominant relationship between G and D in tonal harmony; the viability of this analogy can be heard i f one performs N and then immediately plays the first ordered trichord as a "cadential" melody, i.e. < . . C#, Eb, D, G#, F#, G >. G is admittedly not the first pitch class of N , but I will argue nonetheless that the ordering of the first trichord strengthens its aural significance; in N ' , after all, G is heard more as a passing note between G# and F# than as a goal. 209 Lutyens does not exploit this property in the music of The Numbered, since she rarely uses the same row form twice in succession. However, in a different way this fifth-relation between the first and last trichords of the row does play an important harmonic role in the music. The dynamism of diatonic tonal music emerges largely from the interplay of two A A fundamental relations: the stable perfect fifth between scale degrees 1 and 5, and the unstable semitone between 1^and^. In the key of G major, these three scale degrees form the [015] trichord {F#,G,D}. In the row of The Numbered, the [016] trichord {G#,G,D} at order numbers 0, 2 and 11 is of similar structure and importance. This trichord shares with the diatonic [015] trichord {F#,G,D} the perfect fifth {G,D}, but replaces G's lower leading-tone F# with its upper, chromatic leading-tone G#, thereby incorporating both the stability of the perfect fifth and the instability of the semitone. The use of G# rather than F# also adds another significant dynamic to this trichord, and that is of course the tension between the perfect fifth {G,D} and the tritone {G#,D}. We have already seen how the [016] trichord is an important subset of the row at the foreground level, as two [016]'s overlap at the dividing point between the two hexachords to form an inversionally symmetrical [0127] tetrachord. In the course of analyzing various passages of the opera, we will see how the [016] trichord type is a fundamental harmonic and melodic sonority in Lutyens's music, even in passages not governed by the row per se. The presence of ic i in every contiguous trichord of the row allows for relatively conjunct melodic lines, but Lutyens often presents ic i ' s as pitch intervals of eleven or thirteen semitones, creating melodic lines with relatively disjunct contours. The effects of ici-prevalence in the row are heard more strongly perhaps in the domain of harmony. Because of the trichordal structure shown in Example 5.19, all larger unordered sets drawn 210 from the row also contain at least one i c i . Table 5.1 summarizes the set class content of all trichordal, tetrachordal, pentachordal and hexachordal segments of the row. The exponents indicate the number of set classes of a given type that are formed by (contiguous) row segments. Of course, as segments grow in size and approach the aggregate, they become more chromatic; for this reason, the table does not include segments with cardinality greater than six. Set Cardinality Inventory Trichords [012]2 [013]3 [014]1 [015]2 [016]2 Tetrachords [0123]2 [0125]1 [0126]1 [0127]1 [0134]2 [0135]1 [0156]1 Pentachords [01234]2 [01237]1 [01245]2 [01246]1 [01256]1 [01267]1 Hexachords [012345]2 [012357]' [012367]1 [012378]1 [012456]2 Table 5.1. Set Class Inventory of the Row. Since N is composed of two T6-related chromatic hexachords, the 48 forms of N can be divided into six groups of four row forms, each partitioned into the same unordered pair of unordered hexachords. These partitions, labeled " C " for "chromatic," are shown in Table 5.2. Note that TON is a member of the C5 group, since its unordered hexachords can be represented as {56789t} and {e01234}. 211 C-Partition Unordered Hexachords Transformations of N CO | 012345 | 6789te* | T l , T7,14,110, and their retrogrades CI | 123456 | 789te0 | T2, T8,15,111 and their retrogrades C2 | 234567 | 89te01 | T3, T9,16,10 and their retrogrades C3 | 345678 | 9te012 | T4, T10,17,11 and their retrogrades C4 |456789 | te0123| T5, T l 1,18,12 and their retrogrades C5 |56789t | e01234| T6, TO, 19,13 and their retrogrades * Pitch classes are represented by integers, where C = 0; t = 10 and e = 11. Table 5.2. C-Partitions. Another important aspect of the row's structure is the strategic placement of tritones between its first and last pitch classes (G# and D in N), and between its "innermost" pitch classes, at the boundary between the two hexachords (F and B in N). These four pitch classes create a skeletal [0369] tetrachord (<G#, F, B, D> in N), the remaining pitch classes of the row forming two [0134] tetrachords, as shown in Example 5.22. The skeletal tetrachord is indicated in bold type. ic6 G# F# G A Bb F B C E C# Eb D I I 1 I I I I I I I [0134] ic6 [0134] Example 5.22. Skeletal Tetrachord Structure of N . 212 Lutyens sometimes groups row forms together on the basis of shared skeletal tetrachords, or more narrowly, shared inner tritones (ordered or unordered). By way of illustration, Example 5.23 aligns N with three other row forms sharing the same semi-ordered skeletal tetrachord; that is, only the outer tritone is ordered consistently, while the inner tritone is variable. Note that each row form contains the same unordered [0134] tetrachords at order positions 1 through 4 and 7 through 10. 0 1 2 3 4 J 6 7 8 9 10 11 TON: G# F# G A Bb F B C E C# Eb D I4N: G# Bb A G F# B F E C Eb C# D RT6N: G# A G Bb F# F B E Eb C# C D RI10N: G# G A F# Bb B F C C# Eb E D I I I I I I I (F#) = (Bb)(I)0134 (C) = (E)(I)0134 Example 5.23. Row Forms Sharing Skeletal Tetrachord <G#,{B,F},D>. Example 5.24 shows how two rows sharing the same ordered inner tritone can sometimes be "pentachordally combinatorial," so to speak: the outer pentachords exchange positions around the constant central tritone. As analysis will shortly demonstrate, Lutyens often exploits this property in grouping row forms. TON: G# F# G l 1 1_ A RI4N: D C# Eb Bb (F#) = (Bb)(I)01234 (C) = (E)(I)01234 B B C F# C# Eb J L_ G D (C) = (E)(I)01234 (F#) = (Bb)(I)01234 Bb G# Example 5.24. "Pentachordal Combinatoriality." 213 Given the chromatic nature of the hexachords, the prevalence of smaller interval classes towards the beginning and ending of the row, and the inversional relationship between its first and last trichords, it is sometimes difficult to distinguish where one row form ends and another begins in Lutyens's music. The identification of row forms is complicated further at times by her flexible treatment of the row. For example, the orchestral prelude that opens 1.5 (shown in Example 5.25) begins with the presentation of RI9N, against which the row form T5N is also heard. These two row forms exhibit the kind of pentachordal combinatoriality that was just shown in Example 5.24 (see Example 5.26). C D Eb Db J I I I (B) = (Eb)(I)01234 (F) = (A)(I)01234 1 1 1 1 A F# G# G Example 5.26. RI9N and T5N. In the first three measures, RJ9N's first pentachord < G,F#,Ab,F,A >, played in the strings, glockenspiel and piano, can be heard against T5N's first trichord < C#,B,C > (another <-2, +1>) in the flutes and vibraphone. The sustained chord in the clarinets, horns and harp that arrives on the second eighth beat of m. 721 comprises the next four pitch classes of T5N, <D,Eb,Bb,E>. This tetrachord supplies the central tritone <Bb,E > for T5N, but it is somewhat obscured by its presentation in the inner voices. In m. 722, it is heard much more clearly now as the central tritone of RJ9N, together with RI9N's next two pitch classes, RI9N: G F# Ab _L r~ T5N: C# (F) = (A)(I)01234 (B) = (Eb)(I)01234 -1 1 1 B C D A _ l Bb E Eb Bb E 214 Example 5.25. 1.5.718-26. 215 <B,C>. T5N continues at the end of the measure with its next three pitch classes, <F,A,F# > heard simultaneously in the violins and viola. At this point, the statement of T5N ends, stopping short of its last two pitch classes, <Ab,G>, which are delayed until heard as the pitch climaxes of the soprano's first phrase in mm. 724-27. The statement of RI9N is completed, however, with its last pentachord divided between the melodic gesture <B,C> in the flutes and vibraphone (m. 722) and the repeated chord {C,D,Eb,Db} in the strings, flutes and clarinets (mm. 732-24). The soprano enters at the end of m. 724 with what seems to be the beginning of a new row form, RT4N. But only the soprano's first four pitch classes (<F#,G,F,Ab>) correspond with RT4N. A more convincing reading of the serial structure of this phrase is that it engages the unordered "combinatorial" pentachord {F,F#,G,Ab,A} shared by the preceding row forms RI9N and T5N. Its a b a structure particularly recalls the ordering of this pentachord in RI9N. Its opening dyad <F#, G>, labelled a on the example, retrogrades the first dyad <G, F#> of RI9N, reversing its contour as well, so that the soprano's 13-semitone ascent from F#4 to G5 balances the prelude's initial 13-semitone descent from G6 to F#5. The anacrustic placement of the F#4 at the end of m. 724 not only creates a metric accent on G5 on the downbeat of m. 725, but also lends a fitting sense of forward temporal thrust to the Woman's words, "So soon!" The next segment of the phrase repeats these words, the word "soon" set with RI9N's trichord <Ab,F,A>, labelled b on the example. However, the pitch class F is introduced "early," as an anacrusis to Ab, and is therefore heard twice in this segment. Again, the second member of the ordered set in question is placed before the first and employed as an anacrusis: the re-orderings of each set involve a pitch class that precedes its rightful 216 position—it comes "too soon," in accordance with the soprano's lament. The soprano's opening phrase is completed with a repeat of the a dyad at the end of the melisma. This brief example illustrates several typical features of Lutyens's treatment of row forms. It demonstrates her engagement of "pentachordal combinatoriality" between row forms; re-ordering within segments of a given row form; repetition or re-visiting of individual pitch classes or segments before a row form has been completed; and ambiguity regarding the identification of row forms as a result of this flexibility. Example 5.27 provides a more extended example of repetition within a row form, illustrating how Lutyens sometimes uses this device to achieve a particular expressive effect. (To conserve space, the orchestral parts have been omitted from the example.) In this portion of dialogue from 1.1, the young boy named Seventy questions his mother Thirty-Two about how much longer she will live. The two parts together form a statement of the row form I4N (the first pitch class, G#, is heard in the violin): <G#, Bb, A , G, F#, B, F, E, C, Eb, Db, D>. The rests at the end of m. 197 separate the beginning of the row up until its central tritone from its last pentachord <E, C, Eb, Db, D>, which begins in m. 198 as the Son asks the question, "How long?" to the ordered pitch dyad <E4, C5>. The Mother completes the row form with her phrase, "Hush! That's a secret" (<Eb5, Db5, D4 >), yet another statement of the <-2, +1> motive. But in m. 200, the boy returns to his questioning <E4, C5> and the Mother responds, "No," with Eb5. This trichordal segment <E4, C5, Eb5> is repeated four times in this way until the end of m. 202, as the boy persists with his questions; finally in mm. 203-04 I4N's last pentachord is completed (for the second time) with the boy's cadential pitches <Db5, D4> ("Does nobody, nobody in the whole world know?"). The repetition of the trichord <E4, C5, Eb5> with its rising melodic contour and successively louder dynamic 218 levels, together with the repeated juxtaposition of the homonymic words "know" and "no," nicely portrays in musical terms the doggedness with which children often question their parents and the increasingly pointed responses that parents often give. In terms of Lutyens's serial language, Example 5.27 illustrates not only the repetition of row segments; the "prolongation" of the row's last pentachord and its separation by silence from the preceding central tritone further exemplifies Lutyens's frequent engagement of the row's pentachordal properties. Re-ordering of Segments Example 5.25 showed how re-ordering may occur within segments, but it may also occur between segments. Example 5.28 shows the beginning of 1.2, the first of the story scenes. The pitch-class material of the first six measures is derived from the row form T4N, partitioned as shown in Example 5.29 into four contiguous segments, labelled a through d, of four, three, three, and two pitch classes respectively. Fifty's Chord I—I—I—I—I—I I — a 1 I - b — i |— c—| r d n T4N: < C, Bb, B, C#, D, A , Eb, E, Ab, F, G, F#> I I I I Disbelief Motive Example 5.29. T4N, 1.2.319-24. 219 Fifty Trumpets, Trombones, Strings 319 ESS ? 5 Hg. •/ D M = T4N <J,.c/,5>6> c(T4N{7,8,9)) I don't be-lieve it! s i 3=4 St r - 5 — - K R _ 5 _ 1 b(T4N{<,5,6)) i — T 5fe a a (T4N{0,i,.2,J}) d (T4N<i0,7i>) Friend: 1 - V r^.l 1 ? 7 jl 9 r7\ But it's been proved 3 2 4 ^ * ^ 10> -9> I don't be - lieve - it! s6,(7,)8> _5_ 7 , 7 I9N<0,/,2, 4 5, "I9N = <C#, Eb, D, C , B, E , Bb, A, F, G#, F#, G> Example 5.28. 1.2.319-27. 220 In the music, segments a through d of the row are reordered such that segments b and c are heard first, as a six-note [012367] simultaneity that is stated three times in the first three measures, while the row's opening segment a is not heard until it is stated as a chord on the downbeat of m. 322. Fifty's first statement of the Disbelief Motive in mm. 322-23 bridges segments a and b, while segment d completes the unfolding of T4N with the beginning of the Friend's vocal line in m. 324. The Friend's trichord <G4,F#4,G#4> with its <-l , +2> contour also suggests the beginning of a new row form, RI9N. This is not borne out in the surrounding pitch context, however, except for the almost complete, slightly jumbled statement of I9N, as indicated by order numbers on Example 5.28. The chromatic trichord {C#4, D4, Eb4} accompanying the Friend's melody corresponds with the first trichord of I9N <C#, Eb, D>; I9N's next pitch class, C, is heard emphatically in the bass in m. 725 (as if to punctuate the Friend's assertion, "But it's been proved!"), and it is immediately followed by I9N's next ordered [016] trichord <B, E, Bb>, also in the orchestra. The pitch class A is missing, but as we have seen, I9N's last trichord <G#, F#, G> is heard in retrograde in the voice as <G, F#, G#>. The Friend's first words are followed in m. 326 by Fifty's second statement of the Disbelief Motive, and as noted in Chapter 4, this version of the motive is taken from HON, as shown in Example 5.30. DM Fifty, m. 328 I 1 1—I—I I I10N:<D,E, (Eb,)Db, C, F, B, Bb, Gb, A , G, Ab > I I I I I I < I I str, clar vln, via, tpt Example 5.30. HON. 1.2.325-328. 221 At the end of m. 325, mingled with I9N's [016] trichord <B, E, Bb>, is the first (unordered) dyad of HON, {D, E}, although the D is not heard until after the E. The next pentachord of HON, <Eb, Db, C, F, B> forms Fifty's vocal line in mm. 326-27, following which the row's next two (unordered) dyads {Bb, Gb} and {A, G} are heard as simultaneities in the orchestra. The final pitch class of HON, Ab, is supplied in m. 328 by Fifty, who repeats this pitch several times at the beginning of the next phrase "You say that everyone's moment comes at the right time" (not shown), thus completing the row at an appropriate "moment" in the text. Segments as Motives As first observed in Chapter 2, Lutyens occasionally uses segments from the row as motives associated with particular characters. Example 5.28 also shows Fifty's opening melodic phrase, the motive that Lutyens herself identified as the most prominent one of the opera, "implicit of Fifty's character [of] enquiry in his words, T don't believe it! '" 1 1 Setting these words in mm. 322-23, this motive then occurs in inverted form in mm. 326-27, as Fifty repeats the same text. Two factors establishing a given segment as motivic are isolation and repetition. Fifty's first statement of the Disbelief Motive, for example, comprises T4N<5,4,5,6>, but it is texturally and timbrally isolated from the rest of the row form, which is heard as a series of orchestral simultaneities providing a harmonic accompaniment. It does not function as a leitmotif, however, until it has been repeated enough times in relation to a particular idea to be associated with that idea, in this case, Fifty's skepticism. Examples 5.31a through c show three other occurrences of the Disbelief Motive in the opera. Example 11. B L . Add. Ms. 64445, f. 3. 222 5.31a reproduces Fifty's opening words in the Trial Scene (I.l 1), where it is clear from the context that the Keeper has just announced to the public that it is Fifty's moment. The Disbelief Motive appears transposed down a semitone from its original <C#4, D4, A3, Eb4>. Example 5.31b comes from Act II, just after Fifty has smashed the lockets (this excerpt was discussed in Chapter 3 in reference to its use of whispering and shouting); Example 5.3 lc shows the horn's statement of the Disbelief Motive in the closing measures of the opera, as Fifty stands alone and silent on the stage. In both these examples, the Disbelief Motive is heard at its original transposition level, and it is accompanied by the same six-note simultaneity that opened 1.2 {D,A,Eb,E,Ab,F}, order numbers 4 through 9 of T4N. (In Example 5.31c, the bass note Eb of this chord is sustained in the horn). This demonstrates how Lutyens uses segments of the row as harmonic as well as melodic motives. T i l ( D M ) It's not my mo - ment! It is not my mo - ment! Example 5.31 a. Disbelief Motive, Beginning of Tr ia l Scene (I.l 1.1646-48). Example 5.31b. Disbelief Motive, Opening of the Lockets (II.3.725-31). 223 Horn Solo (concert pitch) 11.1842 6-6 D M Violin, Viola Cello, Tromb., Tuba, D.B., Hp. Bass Drum lunga ppp —= con sordino allarg. con sordino Fifty's Chord (with Hn's Eb) ^ a n/'e/tfe 11.1842 Example 5.31c. Disbelief Motive, End of Opera (II.9.1842-45). Example 5.32 shows another familiar leitmotivic use of a row segment—the Entrapment Motive first introduced in Chapter 2. This ordered tetrachord begins the second hexachord of I7N, whose first hexachord (with the exception of the pitch class A) was heard in the orchestra on the second quarter-note beat of m. 1.6.736. (The row form is completed by the orchestra's arpeggio figure in m. 738, which provides its final ordered dyad <E,F> along with the missing pitch class A.) The repetition of E M in mm. 736-45 not only establishes the tetrachord's primary motivic association with the First Colleague, but expressively reinforces his inability to make sufficient progress towards his goals. 224 mf 2nd Colleague 1 st Colleague I7N 736 7. 8. 9, L/mp»>- 18 You don't work hard e nough. mp V <{0,/,2,5,5}, I can't get it done. E M 70, 4,7i> pp fp flip1 mf I work day and E M 1 ^ I t 741 2nd Coll. 1st Coll. Then you work too hard. 741 night. I hard - ly eat, I hard - ly sleep. E M E M Yet it won't be fin-ished. E M 'r him mfp mp Example 225 Segmental Independence At times, melodic segments or chords can be identified as belonging to a particular row form, but they appear independently of the rest of the row. Example 5.33 shows a phrase from 1.4, sung by the Woman with no orchestral accompaniment. The dashed brackets indicate ordered pitch class sets that can be derived from row forms. Woman J-60 1.698 Such a man knows he will out-live I6N«5,7,8,9> , „ T9N<8,9,-10,U> i 1 ever - y - one round him. Bro-thers, friends and wives; his children, too. * J n : „ n^ ihrn friends and ives; his children, too. Example 5.33. 1.4.697-701. The first phrase ("Such a man knows") begins with the [014] trichord <D4,F#,F4>, which does not occur as an ordered subset of any row form. However, it is an unordered subset of I6N's tetrachord <G,F#,D,F>), heard immediately after in m. 698, and again in m. 700.11 The ordered pentachord <E,D#,F#,C#,A> does not occur in any row form, but particularly with its opening triplet quarter-note figure it can be heard as a variant of the previous measure's pentachord, as shown in Example 5.34: both pentachords begin with a descending semitone followed by a skip; both end with an ic4 leap—in the first case ascending 8 semitones and in the second, descending 4 semitones to form a balanced antecedent-consequent gesture. 11. This is a T l 1 transposition of the Entrapment Motive. However, EM will not be established as a leitmotif until 1.6, and 1 do not believe the text in 1.4 suggests any particular interpretive significance to its use here. 226 1.703 -1 M3 "-4" -1 m3 -4 Example 5.34. 1.4.698-99. The last ordered tetrachord of the phrase, <Db,Bb,C,B> similarly does not conform to I6N, but does constitute the last ordered tetrachord of T9N. In this phrase and other passages like it, the row may no longer determine the structure of the phrase, but it is nevertheless recalled in the occasionally familiar contours of melodic fragments or unordered segmental set classes. Traces of Tonality At times, Lutyens's repetition of pitch classes or segments before the row has been completed leaves the aural impression that there is a tonal centre of some kind; occasionally, even traces of functional harmony can be heard.12 As a case in point, Example 5.35 shows a reduction of the brief instrumental prelude to 1.9, scored for alto flute, tenor saxophone, two electric guitars, pizzicato double bass and cymbals. The duet is derived from I3N (<G, A , Ab, F#, F, Bb, E, D#, B, D, C, Db>), distributed amongst the instruments as shown in Example 5.36. 12. In a 1972 interview, Lutyens remarked, "If you've ever written serially your sense of tonality is made more acute. You're more aware of intervals." '"Time Off?' and 'Scene Machine,'" interview by Stephen Walsh with Elisabeth Lutyens and Anthony Gilbert, Musical Times 113 (February, 1972), 138. 227 228 alto flute I 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 I3N: G A Ab F# F Bb E D# B D C Db I I I I electric guitars, double bass I I I I I tenor saxophone Example 5.36. Distribution of I3N, Beginning of 1.9. Beginning in the second measure (m. 1372), a significant segment from I3N can be heard in the alto flute, with the exception of its third pitch class, Ab (heard in the tenor saxophone and sustained in the electric guitar chord), and its last dyad, <C, Db>. The tenor saxophone's melodic line is based on I3N's last (unordered) tetrachord, although its entry in m. 1371 actually precedes that of the flute. This tetrachord is re-ordered not only in terms of its placement in the row, but also internally, such that the pitch C4 is emphasized by durational and metric accents, and by its registral placement in the opening simultaneity. The saxophone's B3, Db4 and D4 serve as neighbour notes to C4. The Ab3 is not included in the alto flute but instead is heard in the saxophone as Ab3, functioning much like a "consonant skip" elaborating C4, played by the saxophone on the downbeats of mm. 1373 and 1374. The entire passage from mm. 1371-78 is harmonized with the tetrachord {Ab, F, Bb, E} played by the two guitars, with additional pizzicato attacks in the double bass reinforcing the bass note E. This harmonization suggests the key of F minor. Examples 5.37a and b demonstrate this idea by reducing the musical texture of the first four measures to include only the tenor saxophone's phrase and one of the two guitars. 229 H ^ -F minor. I (WI 6 U ) I Example 5.37a. F minor Tonic Implications, 1.9 Prelude. Example 5.37b. F minor Dominant Implications, 1.9 Prelude. In Example 5.37a, the upper guitar's dyad {F, Ab} against the tenor saxophone unmistakably projects the tonic (or tonic substitute) harmony in F minor, with the saxophone elaborating the dominant scale-degree C with its neighbours B, D and Db, and the consonant skip to Ab3. In Example 5.37b, the bass guitar's central tritone of the row {E, Bb}, together with the saxophone's C, projects dominant-function harmonies of F minor almost as convincingly. The two guitar dyads together with the saxophone therefore bring together the tonic and dominant harmonies of F minor, with their common tone, C, strongly emphasized in the saxophone's melodic line. Contradicting the "minor" mode, but not the centricity of F, is the alto flute's sustained A-natural in m. 1372. The flute's F# in m. 1373 could be respelled as Gb and interpreted as an upper chromatic neighbour to F, much as Db serves an upper chromatic neighbour to C in the saxophone part in m. 1372. The flute's <Bb4, E4> tritone in m. 1374, echoing the bass guitar, is also consistent with the key of F, minor or major. The subsequent D# is a little harder to hear in the context of an F tonality, but the row dictates its placement. The ensuing B and D can be heard again as neighbour notes anticipating the arrival of C on the downbeat of m. 1375 for the following repetitions of the prelude material that follow. This short demonstration suggests how the "F-minor" prelude sets up a broad-range conflict throughout the entire scene between the instruments and the voices, whose melodic lines will later emphasize the pitch classes F# and C#, and suggest the conflicting centricity of F#. We shall see this in more detail in Chapter 9. In an undated letter to Brian Elias written when she was in her late sixties or early seventies, Lutyens makes some revealing comments about her attitude to serial composition. I do really think that serialism (strictly) should be gone through (as counterpoint earlier) to understand and write music today whether one adheres to it after experience or not. It was the foundation of post-serialism and I miss the aural 14 awareness it gives in many composers. 14. Undated letter, B L . Add. Ms. 71114, fol. 81. 231 Lutyens's comment cited earlier in this chapter (see n. 9) suggests that the fundamental value of serial composition in this regard is the composer's increased sensitivity towards pitch intervals. On the other hand, a remark made by Susan Bradshaw after Lutyens's death suggests that specificity of pitch did not hold as great a value for Lutyens as other musical parameters such as rhythm and contour. Speaking as a performer, Bradshaw described Lutyens as perhaps the easiest composer she had worked with because she always swore she couldn't remember what she had written: "The thing about Liz was that as long as the feeling for the overall shape of the music was right, particularly the speed at which it moved, then she was quite happy to accept a few blurred details—whether of her own or the player's making."1 5 This chapter has demonstrated some aspects of Lutyens's flexible approach to the row, through examples of the varying degrees of rigour with which it is used to govern the opera's pitch structure. Further aspects of pitch structuring in The Numbered will come to light in the chapters that follow. 15. Susan Bradshaw, typescript of B B C radio broadcast, " A Tribute to Elisabeth Lutyens," 15.12.83, 2155-2300. B L Add. Ms. 71114, fol. 223. 232 Chapter 6. The Row as Law?: The Trial Scene and the Revolution Chapter 5 introduced some basic aspects of Lutyens's serial language in The Numbered. Most of this discussion was purely technical in nature, but in some cases Lutyens's treatment of the row seemed to have interpretive significance with regards to the dramatic context. The problem of musical structure and representation is of course a complex and difficult one. Nevertheless, the intractability of one extended segment of the opera with regards to serial analysis—the Revolution—raises the question of whether at certain times in The Numbered, the row is in some way representative of the Law. This question was first put forth in Chapter 4 in connection with the discussion of the Keeper's pitch material; this chapter follows up on the idea by looking at Lutyens's serial technique in the opera's two principal scenes involving the chorus as the "public": the Trial Scene (I.l 1) and the choral Revolution in the middle of Act II. As the concluding discussion of this chapter will show, Lutyens's treatment of the row in these two "crowd scenes" is particularly significant in light of Canetti's writings on the dynamics of crowd formation. The Trial Scene: 1.11 This crucial scene can be divided into three major sections. In the first and longest section (mm. 1643-1863, henceforth called "The Debate"), the Keeper claims that it is Fifty's moment and that he must repent or face public execution. Fifty argues with the Keeper, eventually offering to recant on the condition that he be allowed to die in peace without the State's intervention. The chorus frequently interjects with outbursts of rage against Fifty. The second section (mm. 1864-1923, henceforth called "The Recantation") begins as Fifty publicly recants, by repeating phrases dictated to him by the Keeper and echoed by the chorus. At the end of the Recantation, Fifty exits the stage. In the third and final section (mm. 1924-68, henceforth called "The Litany"), the people kneel before the Keeper, who leads them in a litany reaffirming their faith and contentment. Musically, each section is quite distinct, as the following analyses will demonstrate. Section 1: The Debate (mm. 1646-1863) The stage direction in m. 1645 reads: "Fifty before the assembled people. The Keeper, robed and vested, stands near him and speaks loudly so that all may hear." The "robed and vested" Keeper is the judge in this trial, with Fifty the defendant, but by the end of the scene the Keeper's vestments will have been transformed in function from those of a judge to those of a priest. Example 6.1 reproduces the piano-vocal score from Fifty's entrance in m. 1646 to m. 1697, just after the chorus's first interjection. Up until the first entry of the chorus in m. 1670, the serial derivations of the vocal and orchestral parts are relatively easy to trace. For example, in m. 1646, the B l functions as the first pitch class of the row form T3N, whose second through seventh pitch classes form Fifty's opening melodic line ("It's not my moment! It is not my moment!"). Because it ends with order numbers 3 through 6 from the row in a similar rhythmic setting as the opening of 1.2, this phrase appropriately ends with a clear statement of the Disbelief Motive. The remaining five pitch classes of T3N can be heard, slightly re-ordered, in the orchestral instruments in mm. 1648-49. In mm. 1650, the Keeper's E3 begins a statement of T8N <E, D, D#, F, F#, C#, G, G#, C, A , Cb, Bb>. His C#3 in m. 1651 at the end of the text phrase, "Your moment has come!" is T8N<5> and Fifty's repeated A3's in mm. 1651-52 is T8N<9>; these pitches are doubled in the orchestra, with the Keeper's E3 ,and C#3 234 Example 6.1. 1.11.1646-97 (cont'd on next page). 235 Example 6.1. 1.11.1646-97 (cont'd on next page). 236 . R I 6 N : < E , E b 1 F r _ _ D > F J A - - Db,Ab,A,B, C,Bb> RT2N: <E, F, Eb, GbD,C#,G, C,B,A,Ab,Bb}> Example 6.1. 1.11.1646-97 (cont'd on next page). Example 6.1. 1.11.1646-97 (cont'd). 238 incorporated into the chords in mm. 1650 (T8N{0,7,2}) and 1651 (T4N{3,4,5,6,7,8}). Fifty's A3 is also doubled in the orchestra, but it is heard as a single tone rather than embedded in a highly chromatic orchestral simultaneity. Finally, in m. 1652, T8N<70,77> are supplied by the orchestra, again as a simultaneity. Fifty's assertion "I know how old I am" beginning at the anacrusis to m. 1653 initiates a statement of T4N, the row form which began the story scenes at the opening of 1.2. This phrase is derived from the first seven pitch classes of T4N, and therefore ends with another statement of the Disbelief Motive at its original transposition, although disguised somewhat by the displacement down an octave of the motive's final pitch class, D#. The remainder of T4N is completed by the Keeper in mm. 1655-56 ("Your memory deceives you"). The orchestra doubles the vocal lines throughout this passage, but in counterpoint to T4N it also states a row form of its own: RI6N <E, Eb, F, D, F#, G, C#, G#, A , B, C, Bb>. The serial derivations of mm. 1656-69 are similarly clear, and are indicated on the score for reference. Once the chorus enters with its first interjection in m. 1670, however, the task of row form identification becomes less straightforward. The chorus's first interjection is incited by Fifty's direct attack on the Keeper in mm. 1667-69, in which Fifty refers to his mother—"She is alive—you only know the D E A D ! " With his repeated Gb4's in m. 1667, Fifty reaches the top of his range for the first time in the opera and the accented, fortissimo attacks on the next few words accentuate the high emotional pitch of the moment. The plunge in contour from F4 at the end of m. 1668 to the E3 on the downbeat of m. 1669 imbues the word "dead" with menacing.aggression; the sfz attack reproduces musically the accentuation indicated by the capitalization and underscoring 239 of the word on the score. Fifty's insulting accusation provokes the Keeper's response—"He blasphemes!"—prompting the Chorus to enter into the fray. "" ' The passage from mm. 1670-85 is the first and longest of five interjections in the Debate section, analogous to the choral outbursts in the St. Matthew Passion or Schoenberg's Moses und Aron. Most involve one or more of four phrases: "He blasphemes"; "Stop him!"; "He sets himself against the Law"; and "He desecrates our rights." The third interjection —"Lead us not into temptation"— is the lone exception.1 The musical settings of the interjections are almost completely homophonic rather than polyphonic, aside from some staggered entries at the beginning of the second, third and fifth interjections. Since the second and fourth interjections are relatively brief, the following discussion will focus on the first, third, and fifth interjections in order to demonstrate how the row is used over the course of the Debate section. Interjection 1:1.11.1670-85 Over the first six measures (mm. 1670-75) of the first interjection, two complete row forms are stated clearly in the orchestra: RI6N (mm. 1670-72) and RT2N (mm. 1673-75). As shown in Example 6.2, these row forms are closely related, sharing the same skeletal tetrachord <E, {G,Db}, Bb> and the same unordered outer pentachords. 1. Comparison of these choral interjections with those in the corresponding section of the original play is revealing. In Canetti's play, the crowd interrupts only twice, the first time with the phrase "He blasphemes," and the second time with "Lead us not into temptation." The phrase "He sets himself against the Law" is uttered in the play only by the Keeper and the phrase "He desecrates our rights" is a new addition to the libretto. The opera's crowd is therefore much more vocal than Canetti's comparatively taciturn lot, suggesting an incipient rage and power not present in the play. 240 [0369] I 1—T 1 RI6N: < E , Eb, F, D, F#, G , Db, Ab, A , B, C, Bb> RT2N: < E , F, Eb, F#, D, Db,G, C, B, A , Ab, Bb> I I I I I I I I [0134] [0134] Example 6.2. RI6N and RT2N. RI6N was heard earlier in the orchestra in mm. 1653-55, and T2N has just been completed by Fifty and the orchestra in mm. 1665-69. RI6N's first trichord, <E,Eb,F> is in fact a rotation of the T2N's last trichord <Eb,F,E>, sung so forcefully by Fifty in mm. 1668-69 ("You only know the DEAD!"'). RT2N's first trichord <E,F,Eb> is of course its retrograde. The choral parts, however, are not derived from either of these row forms, either horizontally (as independent voices) or vertically (as a series of simultaneities). Table 6.1 shows the set classes and possible row derivations of the first nine simultaneities of the interjection (mm. 1670-74). The first five of these chords, in mm. 1670-71, form the interjection's first choral aggregate. As Table 6.1 indicates, no one row form accounts for all five simultaneities, and chords 4 and 5 cannot be derived as segments from any form of N . Furthermore, none of the five chords is a segment of RI6N, the row form initiated in the orchestra during these two measures. The most convincing serial derivation for the passage is T I N (<A, G, Ab, Bb, B, Gb, C, Db, F, D, E, Eb>), but only if the pitch class F is moved from its normative order position 8 to the end of the row. 241 Measure # Chord # Set Class Possible Row Forms 1670 1 [012] T I N , T6N, I3N, HON tl 2 [0134] TIN, T7N, I5N, 11 I N 1671 3 [0126] I11N ll 4 [0235] — tt 5 [0124] — 1672 6 [01234] T3N, T9N, U N , I7N It 7 [013457] — 1673 8 [0123] T4N, T9N, I2N, I7N 1674 9 [012356] — Table 6.1. Choral Simultaneities, M m . 1670-74. A slightly more elegant solution is to view the formation of this aggregate as a rough "centre-outwards" accumulation of the aggregate from Ab, the pitch class on which the Keeper intoned the accusation "He blasphemes!" in mm. 1669-70. This is demonstrated in Example 6.3. (In order to illustrate the process of accumulation with a minimum of visual clutter, the Example shows only new pitch classes as they are added.) On the far left, Example 6.3 shows the Keeper's Ab, followed by the five choral simultaneities labelled 1 through 5 on the score. These simultaneities are vertically ordered according to pitch class rather than pitch, in order to show how, abstractly, the aggregate accumulates outward from the central pitch class Ab until it is completed with the arrival of F in the bass of chord 5 at 242 the end of m. 1671. This idea of "outward expansion" is audible in the registral expansion between chords 1 and 5, where the soprano ascends from A4 to Db5 while the bass descends chromatically from G2 through Gb2 to F2. A Ab Ab G B Bb D Db C Gb E Eb Chord # 1 2 3 4 5 (6) m.1670 1671 1672 Example 6.3. Centre-Outwards Aggregate Accumulation, 1.11.1670-72. The pitch class F that completes this aggregate is transferred from the bass at the end of m. 1671 to the soprano on the downbeat of m. 1672 (shown in bold type), from which it serves as the (abstract) centre point for the next choral aggregate accumulated over mm. 1672-73, as shown in Example 6.4. 243 G Gb F E Eb Chord # 6 7 8 m. 1672 1673 Figure 6.4. Centre-Outwards Aggregate Accumulation, 1.11.1672-73. The choral parts in mm. 1670-71 and mm. 1672-73 each involve the accumulation of an aggregate over a two-measure span. These two pairs of measures are audibly linked into a larger four-measure span by an overall ascent in pitch and dynamic level between chords 1 and 9, and by an accelerando from J = 120 to J = 132 in m. 1671 and J = 152 in mm. 1673- 75. Also unifying the passage is the soprano's upwards arpeggiation of a Bb minor triad (its initial A4 functioning as a "leading tone" to Bb4). In mm. 1674, the pitch classes G and Ab are added to the [0123] choral tetrachord {Bb, B, C, Db} retained from m. 1673 but registered differently. A voice exchange between alto and soprano results in a further ascent in the soprano to B5, the pitch climax of these first six measures. This [012356] hexachord is not a subset of any row form, but the added {G, Ab} dyad initiates another centre-outward aggregate accumulation, as shown in Example 6.5, except for a missing Db, omitted possibly because of its presence in the tenor voice in mm. 1674- 75. B Bb A Ab D Db C 244 B Ab G Bb A F# F E Eb D (Db) C Chord # 9 10 11 m. 1674-75 1676-78 1678-79 Example 6.5. Centre-Outwards Aggregate Accumulation, 1.11.1674-79. Midway through this process, in m. 1676 there is an abrupt change of mood despite the continuation of the logical sequence in the text: the tempo returns to = 120, the dynamic level decreases to pianissimo, and the tessitura drops, particularly with the soprano's descent from B5 to the divisi {F4, E4} dyad. There is a slight registral expansion between chords 10 and 13 (mm. 1676 and 1681, respectively), with a voice exchange between the ascending soprano (F4 to Gb4) and descending bass (F#2 to F2). As in the first series of chords 1 to 9 (mm. 1670-75), the initial registral expansion is followed by another ascent towards the last chord in the phrase (mm. 1683-85), labelled 16 on the score, such that all voices in chord 16 are considerably higher than they were in chord 10. This rise in pitch is accompanied by a dynamic intensification to fff and an acceleration from J = 120 to J =152. The text changes as well, as in mm. 1676-78 the chorus sings, "He sets himself against the Law." In these measures, Eb is present in four of the five (repeated) chords, until 245 the end of m. 1681: it is passed from tenor to bass in mm. 1678, from bass to soprano in m. 1680, from soprano to alto in m. 1681 and back to the soprano at the end of that measure. It is not present in m. 1682, but returns in m. 1683 as the bass note of the chord that is forcefully repeated until the end of the interjection in m. 1685. Eb, it will be recalled, was seen to have particular cadential importance in the Keeper's part in 1.3; here again, where it pervades almost the entire interjection, it is associated with the Law. Table 6.2 summarizes the set classes of the seven (repeated) chords heard throughout mm. 1676-85. Measure # Chord # Set Class Possible Row Forms 1676-78 10 [012367] T5N 1678-79 11 [0134] T U N , T5N, I7N.I9N 1680 12 [01267] I8N 1681 13 [012347] — ll 14 [01267] I8N (same as #12) 1682 15 [01234] TON, T6N, I4N,I10N 1683-85 16 [0123456] TON, T6N, I4N, HON Table 6.2. Choral Simultaneities, 1.11.1676-85. Again, there is little consistency in the serial derivations, and none of the row forms listed correspond with the row form RI2N played by the winds in mm. 1682-85; nor are there any obvious connections with the chord set classes of Table 6.1. But the last two chords (mm. 1682 and 1683-85) together form a complete aggregate consistent with the row forms 246 TON, RT6N, I4N and RIION: the four row forms beginning with Ab. Ab is the pitch class on which the Keeper intoned his accusation of Fifty's blasphemy in mm. 1669-70; the pitch class which served as the centre point for the first aggregate accumulation in mm. 1670-71; and it is the pitch class on which the Keeper intones his next accusation beginning in m. 1686: "You have profaned a burial!" What we have seen so far is that with respect to the row the chorus is somewhat "undisciplined": although specific row forms may be stated in the orchestral or solo vocal parts, the choral parts are not derived from row forms, but rather form a series of more loosely organized aggregates. Nevertheless, there is some degree of order in the accumulation of these aggregates, since they can be seen (and sometimes heard) to "expand outwards" chromatically from a central pitch class or dyad, imitating the chromatic wedging process inherent in the row itself. Interjection 2:1.11.1728-42 In m. 1705, Fifty asks the Keeper to postpone his execution for one day. Fifty. I ask you: postpone execution for a day. I beg you. I beg for one day. I am ready to confess, i f you'll grant me one day. Keeper. The Law allows no delay. But it's wiser to confess, (mm. 1705-20) Fifty's response to the Keeper and the second choral interjection which follows it are shown in Example 6.6. Beginning his "confession" close to the top of his range on E4, he claims that this is indeed his fiftieth birthday. But what appears at first as a concession to the Keeper soon transforms itself into another provocation as Fifty reaches Gb4, the top of his range, for the second time in the scene, shouting "I never admitted it because I have never 247 Example 6.6. 1.11.1721-42 (cont'd on next page). 248 II IN: <Eb,F, E, D, C#, Example 6.6. 1.11.1721-42 (cont'd on next page). 249 D , G b , E b , F , E > Example (cont'd). 250 believed in my moment" (mm. 1724-28). This phrase comprises the first seven pitch classes of RT2N, ending with the descending [016] trichord <D4,C#4,G3>—not a statement of the Disbelief Motive but nonetheless reminiscent of it, perhaps because the-Disbelief Motive also ends with a tritone that forms part of an [016] trichord. Fifty's intensity provokes the second choral interjection, which again is divided into two segments, mm. 1728-33 and mm. 1737-42. Its first simultaneity is another [016] trichord containing the {C#,G} tritone, and a continuation of RT2N which is completed in m. 1729 by the alto-bass tetrachord {B,A,Ab,Bb}. The remaining two pitch classes of the choral hexachord in m. 1729, {Eb,D} in the soprano and tenor, initiate a statement of RI5N, lacking only its final pitch class A ; this is shown in Example 6.7. SAT A B I—I—I I—I I 1 RT2N: <E, F, Eb, Gb, D, C#, G, C, B, A , Ab, Bb> I I I I I I I Fifty RI5N: <Eb,D, E, C#, F, F#, C, G, Ab, Bb, B, (A)> I I I I I I I I I i l l S T SATTB SATB m. 1724 1728 1729 1730-31 1732 Example 6.7. Serial Derivations, 1.11.1724-33..,. The first segment of this interjection is very much like the first segment of the earlier one (mm. 1670-75) in its almost completely homophonic texture, its increasing dynamic intensity (from fin m. 1728 to ff and further in mm. 1730-33), and its overall ascent in pitch, at least in the soprano and tenor. These similarities correspond with similarities in text: mm. 251 1728-33's phrases "He blasphemes!" and "Stop him!" are subsets, as it were, of the first interjection's text. It is different, however, in that the aggregates formed in the chorus can now be linked with specific forms of N. The Keeper's words in mm. 1732-37 echo the chorus's "He blasphemes!" and the first interjection's phrase "He has set himself against the Law." But in mm. 1737-38 the chorus responds with a different text: the overtly liturgical "Lead us not into temptation." They now sing pp, this dynamic retreat and a drop in register resembling the beginning of the first interjection's second segment in m. 1676. However, in the first interjection, the chorus's sudden drop in dynamic level marks the beginning of a substantial crescendo toff along with another rising pitch trajectory culminating in the soprano's F5 at the end of the segment in m. 1685. In mm. 1737-42, by contrast, the chorus makes only a slight crescendo from pp (m. 1740) which is immediately retracted in mm. 1741-42 with a diminuendo towards the end of the phrase. Similarly, there is little pitch ascent in the chorus, the soprano rising only 5 semitones from Db4 to a peak of Gb4 in mm. 1741-42; the bass in fact descends, from its lowest pitch Ab2 in mm. 1737-40 to F2 in mm. 1741-42. Furthermore, the choral parts in mm. 1737-42 comprise only two different chords compared with seven in the second half of the first interjection. The chorus's adoption of the language of prayer at this point foreshadows the litany that will close the scene. The temptations that they fear are not those of the body, but those of the mind: clearly disturbed by Fifty's open expressions of skepticism, they ask for protection from the sin of doubt. More generally, they ask to be controlled. This desire to be controlled corresponds not only with a much more constrained musical setting in terms of register, dynamics, and relative harmonic stasis, but with an unusually cjear serial structure. Example 6.6 shows how the first three entries (bass, tenor and alto) in mm. 1737-38 present the first three unordered dyads of T2N, followed by its next pitch class Db in the soprano in m. 1739. The chorus recites on this seven-note chord, and then the remaining five pitch classes of the row form are presented as another single simultaneity in mm. 1741-42. The second interjection, although similar to the first in many ways, represents a change in the relation between the choral settings of the text and the row: in the first interjection, successive choral aggregates accumulated according to an abstract, loosely chromatic expansion from a central pitch or pitch dyad; in the second, choral aggregates accumulate in more organized patterns consistent with particular row forms. The row is gradually taking control of the choral music, even as the chorus reveals through the prayer "Lead us not into temptation" its willingness to submit to the rule of the Law. Interjection 3:1.11.1761-63 The third interjection, shown in Example 6.8, is much shorter than the first two. It is prompted by Fifty's challenge ("Do you doubt your law? If the Law is the truth, let us test it") in mm. 1757-61. Fifty's words are sung to the second tetrachord of T9N, therefore beginning with an abbreviated version of the Disbelief Motive consisting of its last three notes. T9N's first tetrachord {F,Eb,E,F#} has been sustained since the end of m. 1756 in the tubas, trombones, horn and contrabassoon. The chorus's interjection ("He sets himself against the Law") is set this time to a single chord, the [012367] hexachord {Eb,E,F,F#,A,Bb}. This hexachord can be found only in T5N, but the remaining segments of this row form are not heard. It does bring together a number of elements from the surrounding context, however: the tetrachordal subset {Eb,E,F,F#} reprises T9N's first 253 * T5N: <C#, B, C, D,{Eb, Bb, E, F, A , F#}, G#, G> *—(Eb)012367—1 Example 6.8. 1.11.1761-70. 254 tetrachord sustained in mm. 1757-78 at the beginning of Fifty's last phrase; it incorporates Fifty's last pitch, A3, in the tenor; and it adds Bb2 in the bass, the first pitch class of RION, the row form that has just begun in the oboes, clarinets and piano. With this brief, emphatic interjection, the chorus does not maintain the subdued character it displayed at the end of the previous one; rather it reverts to the more undisciplined character of its earlier outbursts. This is true of its (lack of) serial structure as well, since although the chorus's repeated six-note chord is consistent with T5N, the choral parts do not form aggregates (serial or otherwise) as in the earlier interjections. Interjection 4:1.11.1793-1802 The chorus's final interjection in the Debate section begins in m. 1793, and is shown in Example 6.9. Similar to the first and second interjections is the division of this last into two principal segments (mm. 1793-97 and mm. 1798-1802), each of which follows a pattern of rising contour, dynamic intensity, and sometimes tempo. Its first segment, mm. 1793-97, rises from D4 in the tenor (m. 1793) to Bb5 in the soprano (m. 1798), the same pitch that served as the registral peak of the Bb minor arpeggiation that began the first interjection in mm. 1670-71. Two crescendi begin at a dynamic level offf\ and there is an accelerando from J = 120 to J =144. Initially, this interjection resembles the first in its orderly but non-serial process of aggregate accumulation, but where the non-serial choral aggregates of the first interjection were formed by a "centre-outward," and thus "bi-directional" accumulation, in mm. 1793-95 the tenor's pitch class D initiates a strictly "ascending," and therefore uni-directional, accumulation through Eb, E, F, F# and so on. (Again, the progress of this chromatic scale is indicated on the score by the letter-names of only new pitch classes as they 255 Example 6.9. 1.11.1786-1806 (cont'd on next page). 256 U N : <F, . SS {G,G#,A,B,C,C#}, c _ I6N: <{Bb,C,B},{A,Ab,Db,G,F#}, • fr-3—i ~~~ " Example 6.9. 1.11.1786-1806 (cont'd). 257 are added.) The only anomaly in this otherwise straightforward progression is the withholding of the pitch class Bb until the final chord, where as Bb5 it serves as the registral peak at m. 1797. Its second segment, mm. 1798-1802, begins pp at a considerably slower tempo of J = 80. Its texture is again homophonic, beginning (like the second interjection) with an [016] trichord in the upper three voices. This segment is derived from the row form U N , as shown in Example 6.10. Keeper: U N : < F, G, F#, E, Bb, (Gb) D, (F,Eb,E?)> Chorus: {Eb,Ab,D},{C#,A,C}, {Bb,B}> I6N: <{Bb,C,B}, {A,Ab,Db,G,F#}, m.1797 1798 1799 1800 1801 Example 6.10. Serial Derivation, mm. 1797-1800. The Keeper sings the first tetrachord in mm. 1797-99, and the chorus's first two trichordal simultaneities comprise the next two trichords of the row. U N ' s last dyad, {Bb, B}, is added to C to form the [012] trichord sung by soprano, alto and tenor on the downbeat of m. 1800. This last trichord of U N , {Bb, C, B}, also begins I6N, whose'next five pitch classes {A,Ab,Db,G,F#} form the chorus's last simultaneity, intoned until the middle of m. 1802 to the words "desecrates our rights." (I6N's next pitch class, D, is sung by the Keeper in mm. 1801-02, but the remaining chromatic trichord <F,E,Eb> is omitted.) Although this last interjection is more serially organized than the first, aggregate-based one, the relative degree of serial organization cannot be said to steadily increase over the course of the Debate 258 section. The third interjection with its single repeated hexachord disallows this interpretation, as does the fact that the most serially unambiguous choral passage comes not at the end of the entire Debate section but at the end of the second interjection in mm. 1737-42. Nevertheless, the fact that the text of this passage—"Lead us not into temptation" —corresponds with the most orderly expression of the row suggests a link between the chorus's submission to the Law and their musical submission to the Row. The idea of conformance inheres in the chorus's strictly harmonic and therefore collective statements of particular row forms: to extract an individual part from the texture destroys the integrity of the row; in other words, fulfillment of the Law requires the crowd to act as a single cohesive entity and not a collection of autonomous individuals. Section 2: The Recantation (mm. 1864-1923) The crowd is silent during the next section of dialogue, shown below. Lines sung parlando are shown in italic type. Fifty. If you are so certain, Keeper, grant me a day. A day is in your power. Grant me a day. Keeper. Nothing is in my power. Repent. Repent before you die. You still have time to repent. Repent before you die. Fifty. Oh, i f I could! If I could, I would do it for your sake, because I grieve for you. Keeper. Those are the first human words that I have heard you speak. Fifty. What will happen if I recant? Keeper. If you recant ofyour own accord, you will die at your moment. Fifty. And will you let me die in peace? Keeper. I will try. You have not much time. Fifty. What must I do ? Keeper. You must recant before all the people. • Fifty. What must I say? Keeper. Repeat aloud my words. Repeat: (mm. 1807-62) 259 Up until this point, the Keeper has spoken like a judge, but from m. 1814 he begins to sound more like a religious leader as he exhorts Fifty to "repent." This passage is shown in Example 6.11. Fifty's F4 in m. 1811 initiates the row form RT3N <F, F#, E, G, Eb, D, Ab, Db, C, Bb A , B>, from which the first part of the Keeper's melodic line and its accompaniment are derived in mm. 1812-18 (as shown on the Example). The Keeper's first statement of "Repent before you (die)" in mm. 1815-1816 is RT11(DM), suggesting perhaps that execution is the penalty for Fifty's public statements of disbelief. The B3 on the downbeat of m. 1817 not only completes RT3N, but together with the {Al,Bb2} dyad in the orchestra forms the first unordered trichord of I5N. The Keeper completes I5N over the course of the next few measures, ending with the low Eb2 in m. 1824. The Keeper's melodic line in mm. 1812-24 traverses almost its entire range, reaching a height of Db4 in m. 1816—only two semitones below the top of his range at Eb4—and plunging to the bottom of his range at Eb2 at the end of the phrase on the word "die." This ominous phrase is accompanied by a menacing sustained chromatic trichord in the double bass, contrabassoon, trombones and tubas, punctuated by rolls and strokes on the bass drum. A timpani roll on Eb in m. 1824 adds more weight to the Keeper's dramatic descent to Eb2. The Recantation proper begins in m. 1864. In this section of Canetti's play, the crowd listens silently to Fifty repeat the Keeper's phrases. Lutyens gives them a modest role, however, and at the end of each of the Keeper's phrases, they murmur an echo of his final word(s). There are eight musical phrases during the recantation proper, the texts of which are shown in Table 6.3. Each phrase is sung according to the same formula: the Keeper utters a statement; the chorus echoes his last few words, always at a dynamic level of ppp; Fifty repeats the statement in full. Canetti specifies in the play that the Keeper's voice in this 260 Example 6.11. 1.11.1812-24. 261 section should sound "like a priest chanting," and Lutyens's musical setting emphasizes these liturgical overtones. Text Duration in J M m . #'s ' ' ' . Keeper Fifty I believe in the Holy Law. 1864-66 6 3.2 I believe in the moment. 1866-68 4.2 2.5 I will die as it is ordained for me. 1868-71 6.5 3.5 And as each man dies. 1871-73 3.7 2.5 Each man has his moment. 1872-74 3.5 1.7 And each man knows it. 1874-76 3 2 No man outlives his moment. 1877-79 7 2.2 I thank you for your indulgence. I was blind. 1879-85 9.3 7 Table 6.3. The Recantation Text. The phrases of the Recantation are set according to a consistent musical pattern, shown in Example 6.12. The Keeper's words are always set to the dyad {A#3,B3}; the chorus always echoes with the same [012367] chord {E2,C3,F3,B3,D#4,F#4} (the same chord played alternately with the chorus by the trumpets, trombones and tuba); and Fifty simply intones on B3, the Keeper's last pitch. This pattern, with both the Keeper and Fifty's parts focussed on B3 and the women's voices singing a B major triad, strongly suggests B major, although that impression is somewhat weakened by the simultaneous presence of the {C,E,F} trichord in the men's voices. A two-chord, "amen-like" progression in the violin 262 and flute concludes each phrase, the two simultaneous trichords {G,D,Ab} and {Bb,Db,A} forming the [012367] hexachord complementary to that sung by the chorus. Fifty Keeper Soprano, Alto Tenor, Bass Violins, Flutes ^f. »» -U- 7 / / * / • X ^ 7 — ^ f IL a U«| IL m — • (F#)(I)012367 ^ ^ \ A ^ 4 ;; (G)012367 Example 6.12. The Recantation: Reduction. As shown in Example 6.13, these two unordered trichords can be found consecutively in the row form T9N, suggesting that the chorus's hexachord is formed from the union of T9N's first tetrachord and last dyad. (F#)(I)012367 I—I—I—I 1—I T9N: <{F, Eb, E, F#}, {G, D, Ab}, {A, C#, Bb}, {C, B}> I I i i I I (G)012367 Example 6.13. Serial Derivation of the Recantation. 263 The Keeper's A# is the antepenultimate pitch class of T9N, and is a member of the violin/flute hexachord, while B is T9N's last pitch class and a member of the chorus's hexachord. The Keeper's intonations employ one pitch class from each hexachord, but Fifty recants only on B, symbolically integrating him with the chorus's hexachord. The focus of this chapter is the chorus, but for a moment let us consider an interesting detail of Lutyens's rhythmic treatment of the Recantation. Although Fifty sings the same text as the Keeper on virtually the same pitch, the comparative durations of the two men's corresponding texts are telling. Table 6.3 (p. 261) summarizes these durations, measured in quarter-notes. The Table clearly shows how Fifty consistently repeats the Keeper's text at a faster rate, sometimes at double the Keeper's speed, effectively conveying the insincerity of his recantation and his desire simply to repeat the words and "get it over with." The chorus's durations are not represented on the Table because they repeat only the last word of the Keeper's phrases; as fragmentary echoes, the chorus's utterances "belong to" the Keeper's, simply prolonging his statements and thus exaggerating the discrepancy in duration between the Keeper and Fifty's responses. This rhythmic irony is lost on the crowd, however. The Keeper seems to have won control of the situation: the calmed crowd obediently parrots his words as i f soothed by the process of liturgical repetition. The formulaic nature of the recantation, with its hypnotic repetition of musical materials and extremely restrained dynamic levels, marks a significant change in the character of the scene as a whole. The argumentative structure of a trial has converted itself into the responsive structure of a religious ceremony. The transformation is complete in the final section of the Trial Scene, and after Fifty exits the crowd kneels before the Keeper for the litany that brings Act I to a close. 264 Section 3: The Litany (mm. 1924-68) A litany is a type of formulaic choral reading in which the utterances of a single leader are answered collectively (chanted or spoken) by the congregated people. The answers are prescribed in advance, either known by the people from memory or read from a printed script. In the closing section of the trial scene after Fifty's exit, the Keeper leads the so-called "Chorus of the Unequal" in a litany re-affirming their faith in the doctrine of the "moment." Canetti's use of the word "unequal" to describe the chorus is at first puzzling, given their apparent unity during most of the Trial Scene, and the litany in particular; he adds the explanatory phrase, "unequal in that their moments are different."2 But the name has deeper significance. In Crowds and Power, Canetti theorizes that the churches consolidate their authority over the people by offering "a temporary fiction of equality among the faithful" (einer zeitweiligen Fiktion von Gleichheit unter den Glaubigen)? The implication is that the crowd's equality in a religious rite is only a mask whose shallow surface disguises the crowd's fundamental inequality and therefore disunity; the term "Chorus of the Unequal" in the litany draws attention to the falsity of this mask by labelling the crowd not as it appears to be, but as it is. As I shall demonstrate, the same discrepancy between surface presentation and underlying disposition occurs in the serial structure of Lutyens's music for the litany—in the structure of the choral music itself, and in the relations between the choral music and the Keeper's vocal line. The Chorus initiates the singing, suggesting that it is they who set the ritual in motion; however, the remainder of the scene follows the typical pattern of the litany, with the Keeper's leading questions eliciting the correct responses from the people. The text is shown 2. Canetti, The Numbered, translated by Carol Stewart, 59. 3. Canetti, Crowds and Power, translated by Carol Stewart, 25. Canetti, Masse und Macht, 25. 265 below. For ease of reference, I have numbered its seventeen lines, each consisting of one or two sentences. The middle line of text, line 9, is the crucial phrase, "We wait for the moment, the moment that shall part us." 1. Chorus. We are grateful. We have no fear. 2. Keeper. Why have you no fear? 3. Chorus. We know what lies before us. We know when. - • 4. Keeper. Is it so desirable to know when? 5. Chorus. It is desirable to know when. 6. Keeper. Are you glad to be living together? 7. Chorus. We appear to be together. We shall part. 8. Keeper. For what do you wait? 9. Chorus. We wait for the moment, the moment that shall part us. 10. Keeper. You know the moment? 11. Chorus. Each man knows it. Each man knows the moment which shall part us from all others. 12. Keeper. You trust your knowledge? 13. Chorus. We trust it. 14. Keeper. You are happy? 15. Chorus. We are happy. 16. Keeper. And content? 17. Chorus. Content. Lutyens's treatment of the row with respect to the choral parts in the Litany does not differ greatly from that of the previous sections. The choral texture is generally homophonic and homorhythmic, but there are a few passages where staggered entries create short passages of loosely imitative counterpoint. As in the interjections, row forms are typically expressed as chords whose constituent pitch classes form row segments. That is, a succession of three or four chords will typically form an ordered series of unordered pitch 266 class sets consistent with a particular row form. What is different about the Litany is the way in which the chorus's row forms are subsumed under a single, overarching statement of a single row form—I7N—sung by the Keeper throughout the entire 44-measure section. The musical setting of the Keeper's lines is shown in Example 6.14. (Since the instrumental accompaniment doubles the pitches in the voices, in the interests of space the following examples include only the voice parts.) For the time being, the choral responses have been omitted in order to show how the Keeper's part consists of a single statement of I7N; these omissions are indicated by double bar lines. Segment 1 rounds off its statement of I7N's first tetrachord with a return to the initial pitch class, B, and Segment 2 repeats the first tetrachord before taking I7N almost to completion, stopping on its antepenultimate Gb. Segment 3 ("For what'do you wait?")— completes I7N, picking up from the Gb3 which ended the previous segment. I7N is completed with the arrival on F3 in m. 1951, just before the Chorus's response, "We wait for the moment, the moment that shall part us," at the midpoint of the text. Following this response, the Keeper intones the row's antepenultimate pitch class F# for the rest of the scene (Segments 5, 6 and 7), the first syllable of the word "moment" in m. 1957 elaborated with F#3's upper neighbour G3. These two components of the Keeper's part—the statement of I7N and the intonation on F#—thus correspond with the division of the text into two parts, marked by the chorus's response in line 9. In this quasi-liturgical context, the Keeper's intoned F# can perhaps be heard as a kind of plagal finalis in relation to the B emphasized in the Keeper's first two statements. It also forces a kind of false stability to the pitch structure that is in keeping dramatically with the Keeper's enforcement of false stability within society as a whole: together with the pitch 7 267 .o < O 09 « v < a a E es 01 50 V Z r-a c u 1 1 3 A -a •O S3 <8 o c 3 o >. ca J3 ft mi - N 4 3 O O T 3 ca 1 o u 60 00 c JS "ob 3 O in A PPsfl 3 G u St & s 3 »• c u o o T3 C < a i 3 CJ oo -a 5 o A P H PQ =tfc PH JS PQ o" < Q <f < U =«T U cc7 V r 03 AH u a CU CJ "a E CS 268 class B, the F# forms a "consonant" fifth, rather than the more unstable tritone that naturally occurs between B and F, the first and last pitch classes of N . Example 6.15 now shows the choral responses as well as the Keeper's music. The serial derivations of the choral parts are indicated on the score; generally (as in previous examples), new pitch classes are indicated only as they enter. In what follows, I will not examine the litany in its entirety, but will focus on its beginning and ending in order to provide the reader with a sense of Lutyens's treatment of the row in this section. The litany begins with a rhythmically imitative choral statement of the text phrase, "We are grateful," set to the row form RI3N. The pitch classes of RI3N enter in the correct order, and are distributed among the voices as shown below on the left-hand side of Example 6.16. We shall examine the right-hand side of this Example shortly. S A <Db,C, <D#,E, G> <G,E, D#> T B <D,B> Bb,F, A> <A, F, Bb, <B, C,Db> D> <F#,G#> <G#,F#> RI3N (mm. 1927-30) Partially Ordered "Retrograde" (mm. 1933-37) Example 6.16. RI3N and its Partially Ordered "Retrograde," 1.11.1927-37. As RI3N is completed by the bass, alto and soprano at the beginning of m. 1930, the tenor sings its original dyad <D4,B3> in retrograde as <B3,D4>. The tenor's B3 now 269 Keeper Soprano 1927 J. 60 I7N: <B, {Db,C,Bb,A}, }3N: <Db, C , D , B^Dg^ E J J k ^ F J ^ G t f , A, G > ^ 3 E Pie r p We are grate fill, grate-fill, grate , - fill. Alto Wearegrate-ftil. We are grate fulgrate fill, grate \ fill. {D,Ab}, Tenor £ 3 ^ o' 0 We are grate fill, grate fill. 8 5E Bass Wearegrate fill, grate-fill. Example 6.15. The Litany (cont'd on next page). 270 I7N: < B, C#, C, AM, (A#,B) 1935 We know Example 6.15. The Litany (cont'd on next page). 271 1939 I7N: < B, C#, C, Bb, A, D, Ab RT11N (cont'd): {Bb,E,A,G8}, {F#,F,G} > Is it so de - sir - ab-le to know when? RT6N: < Ab, .jfci 0—0. m when, We knowwhen, • mtZJt when, We know when » • i ' —~^^$0- 0 0 0 | j^ -4>g-when, We know when J^7 * * when, We know when 1943 K. G , Eb, 5 RT6N (conf dV Q {A,G,Bb,F#, 3 ^ {E3,E,Eb,Db} inp Are you glad^o be liv - ing to -is de - si-^a-ble to know when, PP P PPP rL *i J J - s v 1 M %4 J ^ 1 «U- i 1 « ^ — i 1 — « „ 4 It is de - si-ra-ble to know when, It is de si-ja-ble to know when, 3 kY*i§9—•—T~ < h "" t* * T: B-= • • • J I" • y = 4 It is de - si-ra-ble to know when, Example 6.15. The Litany (cont'd on next page). 272 - j - i >l 1 {F,< 3b} : > J "* • J * m J r p * 1 a 4 « —/ £ ge-ther? end of RT6N/beginning of I8N:< {C,D} > [0135] [0125] For what do you We ap - pear to be to-ge-ther, We ap - pear to be to-ge-ther, We shall part. We ap - pear to be to-ge-ther, We shall part '—3—< 1951 We ap - pear to be to-ge-ther, We shall part PP K. k)« r * • wait? I4N:<Ab, Bb, A, G, F#, B, {F,E,C}, {Eb,Db,D} fc PP We wait We wait ftrthe mo 3 ment U I JJ J * t=*3ff We wait for the mo ment the \/Lii - 1—j—j r p^  i | _ J •r l — J-L- 4 We wait, We wait for the moment, We wait PP for the mo ment, Example 6.15. The Litany (cont'd on next page). 273 RT3N cont'd: {D,Ab,Db,C}, You know the mo-ment? mo-ment that shall part us. {Bb,A,B}> J - iii RI11N: {A,G#JBb,G,B}, {C,F#,C#,D} Each man knows it. u J J mo-ment that shall part us g g g g | M ** J'il Each > man knows it. ti" i: J)*' mo-ment that shall part us. Each man knows it. 0 0 0 0 mo-ment that shall part us. Each man knows it. 1 9 5 9 K. fend ofRIHN: {E,F}, {Eb}> TUN: < {G,F,F#,G#}, » 1 n-y—i i 1 4 V ' 1 u '» J- r r ' p r p 4Each manknows the mo - ment whtchshall part us RT6N: < {Ab,A},{G,Bb,F#,F}, from all 11 ,n&w\ :b, «r C#},{C r n \D}> — 3 K—1 K—1 -If § l '>J r j •»- [ J 1—m 1 0 — — J 1 J •H 4 Each manknows the mo - ment which shall part from all JF > • > 0* , M •—j • — i 0—| 0— \ t d " — 4 f ' 4= —J f* P T P 4 mo - ment whtchshall part from all Each manknows the mo - ment wbjchshall part from all Example 6.15. The Litany (cont'd on next page). 274 1963 K. end of T U N : You trust your know-ledge? {Eb,C,D,C#}> You are hap - py? 4» f f^*-f 5 oth - ers. We trust it. We are J J Iii J We trust it. oth - ers. We are 7l>r f HP? >m 0 oth - ers. We trust it. We are -3 1 =3 oth We trust it. We are 1967 K. And con - tent? f fCft 1 1 I f hap - py, hap - py, =3 r p p hap - py, • 3-7 7 j; 7 7 £ 7 7 j hap - py, con con con =8= tent. tent, tent. J = , " — 5 t o -con - tent. Example 6.15. The Litany (cont'd). 275 initiates the Litany's only choral statement of I7N, and as shown below in Example 6.17, this pitch is sustained until D4 can enter at its rightful order position 5 in I7N. In this way, Lutyens fashions a seamless transition between R O N and I7N in preparation for the Keeper's entrance in m. 1932 with the same row form. Note that here the partitioning is vertical rather than horizontal, as row segments are now heard as simultaneities rather than ordered pitch class sets. 51 Bb - F# 52 Db (F#) A A D# T B D G --B l C Ab E B2 F I7N: < 0, {1,2,3,4},{5,6}, {7,8,9,10,11} > ' m. 1930 1931 Example 6.17. I7N, 1.11.1930-31. Now let us revisit Example 6.16 (p. 268). After the Keeper's first phrase of the Litany ("Why have you no fear?") in mm. 1932-33, the basses enter at the end of m. 1933 with a retrograde of the same dyad <G#2, F#3> that they sang in mm. 1927-30: not only does the bass retrograde its original dyad <G#2, F#3>, but the soprano's original trichord <D#4, E5, G5> is retrograded to become <G5, E5, D#4>; the alto's pentachord<Db5, C4, Bb4, F4, A4> becomes <A4, F4, Bb4, C4, Db5, and the tenor's <D4, B3> becomes <B3, D4>—a repetition of the same ordered dyad that effected the transition from RI3N to I7N in m. 1930. Although we might expect that this retrograding within each voice part would result in the retrograding of the entire row form RI3N, we do not hear I3N because of Lutyens's different 276 temporal alignment of the parts in mm. 1933-37. Example 6.18 shows the "correct" version of O N along with this partially ordered "retrograde" of R O N . The modified row form bears some resemblance to I3N: its first trichord is related to the corresponding trichord in I3N by 13 and T l 1; its second (unordered) trichord is the T l 1 transposition of I3N's second trichord; the third (unordered) trichords of both row forms are related by 12. Only the last three pitch classes of I3N <D, C, Cb> retain their correct order positions, sung by the tenor-then-alto in mm. 1936-37. This passage thus illustrates not only Lutyens's flexibility regarding the row but the compositional logic that sometimes underlies her re-orderings of pitch classes in a given row form, and her crafting of smooth transitions from one row form to another. 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 I3N: < G A G# F# F Bb E D# B D C Db> "Retrograde" of R O N : < G# F# G E A F B Bb D# D C Db> 2 3 0 6 1 4 8 5 7 9 10 11 Example 6.18. I3N and Partially Ordered "Retrograde of "RI3N. The transition in m. 1960 between the last two row forms of the litany, RT6N and T l IN, does not rely on common tones or subsets, but emerges from a kind of combinatoriality between the two row forms. RT6N and T l I N divide the aggregate into the same unordered octachord and tetrachord, as shown in Example 6.19. RT6N: < {Ab,A,G,Bb,F#,F,B,E} + < {Eb,Db,C,D}> T U N : < {G,F,F#,G#,A,E,Bb,B} + < {Eb,C,D,C#}> Example 6.19. Comparison between T U N and RT6N. 277 When RT6N is followed by T U N , as in Example 6.20, we have two complete aggregates in each row form, but an aggregate is also formed between the last tetrachord of RT6N and the first octachord of T l IN. Reinforcing the combinatorial relationship between RT6N and T l IN is the isolation and repetition of the unordered tetrachord {Eb,Db,C,D} in m. 1960, just prior to the beginning of T l IN on the downbeat of the following measure. Aggregate Aggregate | 1 I I RT6N: < {Ab,A,G,Bb,F#,F,B,E},{Eb,Db,C,D}> T U N : < {G,F,F#,G#,A,E,Bb,B},{Eb,C,D,C#}> 1 I Aggregate Example 6.20. Transition from RT6N to T U N . The formation of this third aggregate in a sense bridges the two row forms. But in another way it could structurally emphasize the separation between them, since they are not linked by sustained or repeated common tones or subsets as we have seen in the earlier examples. The tetrachord in m. 1960 is sung, after all, to the words, "the moment that shall part us." In the preceding examples we have seen how new row forms are often prepared by Lutyens's careful treatment of previous ones. Similar types of connections sometimes characterize the shifts between the Keeper's statements and the choral responses. For example, in m. 1949, the end of I8N on the tenor's Gb3 enharmonically matches the Keeper's entry on F#3 an eighth note later. In m. 1942, the Keeper ends his phrase on Ab, the seventh pitch class of his own row form, I7N. This pitch initiates the next row form, RT6N, continued in the chorus's response beginning in m. 1943. In these cases, row forms seem to have been chosen not out of transformational considerations such as transpositional 278 or inversional relationships, but in order to facilitate seamless transitions' of pitch between the Keeper and the Chorus. While the Keeper sings only one row form during the course of the litany, the Chorus sings no less than ten, with only one (RT6N) used more than once. This succession of row forms is shown in Table 6.4, along with the operations that relate each row form to its successor and to the Keeper's row form I7N, the respective C-partitions for each row form, and the unordered pitch class content of each row form's first and last tetrachords. This information has been included on the Table in order to show the apparent