Umberto Eco on Beauty

As a follow-up to my notes on Peter Schjeldahl's lecture, I suggest you read Umberto Eco's article (Notions of beauty, October 2) for The Guardian, a section of an essay in his new book, On Beauty, translated by Alastair McEwen:

We cannot look at things from such a distance; all we can do is content ourselves with noting that the first half of the 20th century, up to and including the 1960s at most (after which it would be more difficult), witnessed a dramatic struggle between the beauty of provocation and the beauty of consumption. The beauty of provocation is the idea of beauty that emerged from the various avant-garde movements and from artistic experimentalism: from futurism to cubism, from expressionism to surrealism, and from Picasso to the great masters of informal art and beyond. Avant-garde art does not itself pose the problem of beauty.

While Schjeldahl called abstract art "an exploration of the decorative side of art," Eco says that "this 'neo-pythagorical' return to the aesthetics of proportion works against current sensibilities, against the ideas ordinary people have about beauty." Check it out.

Musical Table

I attended a friend's wedding last Saturday, with a reception at The Barns at Wolftrap, and I was seated at a table of interesting guests. The bride was involved in founding the D.C. Blues Society, so Washington Post jazz critic Mike Joyce was there (see his article Best Bets for October Jazz, from September 30), as was the musical entertainment for the reception, the blues duo John Cephas and Phil Wiggins, on guitar and harmonica, respectively. They played several excellent sets of blues, and we walked away at the end of the night with one of their CDs, called Bluesmen (1993). These guys are amazing, and if you like listening to blues, you should acquire one of their recordings or go to hear them.

Making an Old Factory Into a Garden

One of the things that people went to see last month, as part of the Journées nationales du patrimoine in France (see my post on September 23), was discussed in an article (Une cathédrale industrielle livrée à la nature, September 16) by Emmanuel de Roux in Le Monde:

Today the notion of the patrimony has broadened. Notably in the direction of industrial architecture, long unknown and even despised, even if it still represents only 1.7% of the 41,526 buildings protected in 2004. Since protection obviously implies upkeep, the problems of restoration have caused gallons of ink to be spilled, since the 19th century. And the restoration project on the Chavannes coal washing plant, near Montceau-les-Mines (Saône-et-Loire), has reopened the debate.

It was built between 1923 and 1927 and substantially expanded and modernized over the years until processing was stopped in 1999. Although the site was abandoned, the interior is still cluttered with machinery and conveyor belts, tools are still gathering dust on shelves, papers are still stored in desks and cabinets, and trains are still waiting on their tracks for the next load, although weeds have largely overgrown the ground and exterior walls. (Here is a slideslow of 12 images of the plant.) The property was given to a Dutch architectural firm called MVRDV on June 11, 2004, after a jury competition, to convert the Chavannes plant—a dozen stories, 8,000 square meters [86112 square feet] of footprint, in the middle of a mining site covering 32 hectares [79.1 acres]—into something else. (This .PDF file has a description of the finalists in the competition.) After all, it was one of the central sites of its community for so many years: is it right to just abandon it? Naturally, in a good newspaper like Le Monde, this story requires some serious citations:

As early as 1849, John Ruskin (1819–1900), the British art historian, claimed in his Seven Lamps of Architecture: "What we supposedly call restoration is only the worst kind of destruction." He added shortly after: "It is impossible, as impossible as resurrecting the dead, to restore what was great and beautiful in architecture." Ruskin pushed his reasoning to the limit: a monument's ultimate fate is to disappear. Even though we must "guard an old building with vigilance," to protect it from total dilapidation, "its last hour will sound: but let it sound openly and frankly, and let no dishonorable and false substitution intrude to deprive it of the funereal obligations of remembering it."

In France, in the same period, his sworn enemy, the architect Emmanuel Viollet-le-Duc (1814–1879), was a supporter not only of restorations but also of reconstructions, affirming that, in a phrase that remains famous, "resotring a building is putting it back into a state that could never have existed at any single moment." And he put his theories into practice. Thanks to him, Gothic cathedrals recovered their spires and their lost statues. At Pierrefonds, he reinvented a chateau of which only the foundations of ruined walls remained. Later, an intermediary third route was defended by the Italian architect Camillo Boito (1835–1914), and then by Austrian art historian Alois Riegl (1858–1905), before becoming the rule of the Venice Charter (1964), which insists on respecting the a historical monument's history throughout the changes of all periods.

What does the Dutch firm plan to do with the site? (MVRDV is also redesigning Les Halles in Paris, by the way.) According to Winy Mass, one of its leaders, "Not to develop the site does not mean to abandon it. It means envisioning another way, perhaps long-term, perhaps artificial, to place the abandoned plant in its territory: to render it contemporary by the themes developed around it." Their plan is to gradually remove most of the metal structures from the plant, using the proceeds from the sale of the metal to finance a part of the plan. The concrete slab foundation will be covered with earth to allow plants to grow. The building will become part of the wild land around it. According to the article, "the bizarre insolence of the MVRDV solution ultimately seduced the jury." They liked that the plan was a sort of "critical sanctuarization" that "ritualizes the return to nature." It was also, the author notes, the least expensive proposal, which will nevertheless cost 2 million € ($2.47 million).

New Musicological Research

As I mentioned last Friday, I read a paper at the Fall Meeting of the Capital Chapter of the American Musicological Society on Saturday. My paper was an expanded version of what I read in Manchester in July, part of ongoing work on the Ballet de la délivrance de Renault (1617). Barbara Haggh-Huglo (University of Maryland) read a paper on Guillaume Dufay, relating the plainchant office he composed for Cambrai Cathedral, the Recollectio Mariae to possible treatises on plainchant which he may have encountered in his education. Christina Indianos-Svilich (a graduate student at Catholic University) presented her research on the doxastikon, a type of Byzantine hymn, found especially in Greek Orthodox sources. Christina is a trained Byzantine cantrix, who sings with the Romeiko Ensemble (see my review of their concert last December).

Ronit Seter spoke about the BBC's 1997 broadcast of Krzysztof Penderecki's monumental choral work The Seven Gates of Jerusalem, produced by Antony Pitts. You may know Penderecki, as I did principally, as the composer of dissonant avant-garde works like Threnos den Opfern von Hiroshima für 52 Saiteninstrumente (Threnody for the victims of Hiroshima for 52 string instruments, 1960). Seven Gates, composed for the 3000th anniversary of the city of Jerusalem (see this .PDF file of part of the 7th movement), is an example of the composer's return to more traditional sounds in the post-70s part of his career. Dr. Seter demonstrated how the BBC producer of the broadcast reshaped Penderecki's traditional, Catholic, eschatological vision of Jerusalem as the holy eternal city into a more realistic, multicultural depiction. The last paper was presented by Denise Gallo (Library of Congress), a fascinating study of Walt Whitman's relationship with opera. Denise has gone through the Whitman archives (also see these notebooks from the Whitman Collection) at the Library of Congress, looking for operatic references in his letters, newspaper articles, and prose works to compare with images of singers in the poems.

By the way, to continue adding to my list of 20th-century operas, Krzysztof Penderecki did compose some operas, beginning with Die Teufel von Loudun (The Devils of Loudun, 1969), an adaptation of Aldous Huxley's book. He has also completed Paradise Lost (1976/78), after the work of John Milton; Die schwarze Maske (The black mask, 1984/86), premiered at the Salzburg Festival; and most interesting of all, Ubu Rex (1990/91), an opera buffa premiered in Munich, based on the famous play Ubu Roi (1896) by Alfred Jarry.

Romanesque Sculpture in Catalonia

Here's an exhibit I would really like to see, reviewed in an article (Sculptures romanes en majesté, October 1) by Anne Muratori-Philip for Le Figaro, called Catalogne romane, Sculptures du Val de Boì, at the Musée national du Moyen Age, in the Thermes de Cluny in Paris. There are some fifteen wooden statues with polychrome on display in the frigidarium there, along with some fresco reproductions. The exhibit was conceived in 2001, when the Cluny Museum acquired the statue of a Woman Saint, probably originating in the same sculptural workshop, leading curators to conduct research looking for examples for comparison. This is the first time the sculptures have been reunited.

Sculpture is only a small part of the richness of the Boì Valley, known more for its Romanesque mural paintings in Sant Climent de Taüll, Santa Maria de Taüll, and Sant Joan de Boì. How could the Boì Valley, a ravishing narrow valley surrounded by the Spanish Pyrenees, anchored in northwestern Catalonia, have known such an exceptional artistic blossoming in the 12th century? Thanks to its lords, the Erill's, vassals of the kings of Aragon, who took part in the Reconquest. Strengthened by their newly acquired power, they financed the construction of parish churches and small chapels (between the first half of the 11th century and the first half of the 12th century), until the Boì Valley became part of the possessions of the See of Urgell.

Check out these highlight images from the exhibit. It will be in Paris until January 3, 2005, when it will travel to the Museu Nacional d'Art de Catalunya, from January 18 to March 20, 2005. In a companion article (Pèlerinage au val de Boì, October 1), Muratori-Philip discusses the Romanesque sites in Catalonia.

Blogwatch/Operawatch

For the next installment of my series following up on the operas in my preview of the 2004–2005 opera season (see my recent posts on Hanjo and Pelléas et Mélisande), Isaac Mizrahi and the Mark Morris Dance Group return to New York City Opera with their production of Platée (1745), playing until October 16. Terry Teachout saw it this year and had this to say about it at About Last Night. See the reviews by Howard Kissel (An enviable combo creates a 'Platee' full of saucy fare, October 1) for the New York Daily News and James R. Oestreich (An Ill Wind Blows, Melodically, From Paris to La La La Land, September 26) for The New York Times.

I also noted a rare production of Richard Strauss's Daphne at New York City Opera. Alex Ross decided not to review the production for The New Yorker. (Felix Salmon responded to that decision here.) Terry Teachout was more positive at About Last Night. Tim Page made it up to New York to write a review ('Daphne': A Tree Finally Grows In Manhattan, September 10) for the Washington Post, and he more or less agrees with Alex Ross, that the musical side of the performance was great but the production underwhelmed. Anthony Tommasini's review (Oh, to Be a Tree Instead of a Girl!, September 10) for the New York Times was in the same vein but also critical of the opera itself ("Daphne fits a lot of philosophical mumbo jumbo into 90 minutes").

There is also a production of this opera at Vienna State Opera right now, for the first time in over 30 years. Semyon Bychkov conducts Walter Fink (Peneios), Marjana Lipovsek (Gaea), Ricarda Merbeth (Daphne), Michael Schade (Leukippos), and Johan Botha (Apollo). See the review, in German, by Wilhelm Sinkovicz (Ekstase in der Staatsoper, September 22) an an interview with tenor Michael Schade by Petra Haiderer ("Ich lebe meinen Traum", September 20) for Die Presse. By these accounts, German-Canadian tenor Michael Schade, who studied music at the Curtis Institute in Philadelphia, is an excellent Leukippos.

Anna L. Conti, who blogs at Working Artist's Journal, doesn't mind too much when musicologists write about art, so I was quite happy to read her comments about the production of Mozart's Così fan tutte at San Francisco Opera. They are also mounting a production of Billy Budd right now (see the Ionarts double review, Opera at Sea, of the Washington National Opera production).

Thanks to the folks at Gallery Driver's Art Blog Aggregator, who have picked up several recent Ionarts posts. If you are here because you followed a link from that site, please read a while and come back often.

Music Geek Alert

The Capital Chapter of the American Musicological Society is having its Fall Meeting tomorrow. The original location was to have been George Washington University, but it has now been moved to Catholic University because of the chaos expected tomorrow at the IMF and World Bank. I will be reading the first paper, at 10 am.

The Greek Passion in London

Following up on my preview of the Opera Season, 2004–2005, the opera The Greek Passion, by Bohuslav Martinů, was finally produced at the Royal Opera House, at Covent Garden, in London. That production in 2000 is being revived there this fall, until October 1. The review (All drift and no passion, September 17) by Rupert Christiansen for The Telegraph is positive about the production and the performers but cold on the opera:

But the awful thing is that, for two reasons, I found the evening lifeless. Although much has been made of the opera's relevance to the current crises over refugees and asylum seekers, it doesn't really deal with the issues we face today: the refugees here are of the same race and religion (Greek Orthodox) as those they seek shelter with, and the village is a tight, poor and self-sufficient community. Martinu's libretto establishes potentially enthralling situations and encounters, but never pulls them together into any decisive conflict, confrontation or climax: instead, the drama just drifts. The score similarly lacks focus. A telling sign is the amount of speech and bare parlando employed – it's as though Martinu doesn't quite trust music to tell a story or illuminate character.

There are several arresting episodes, such as the grand choral "Kyrie", and a catchy folk-song and dance. But there's no point where the voices are allowed to expand lyrically or where the whirring, spluttering, groaning, exploding orchestra finds a true dramatic pulse and pace. The sad truth may be that Martinu was not much of an opera composer. Just think how Janácek would have moulded this material.

From Edward Seckerson, Heaven and earth show (The Independent, September 20):

There is something decidedly filmic about the way The Greek Passion works. The way scenes run on or jump-cut into one another; the way speech pulls focus like a sudden close-up; the way the underscoring works; the way the lofty is juxtaposed with the lowly. Pountney makes capital of it all. And I cannot emphasise enough just how vital the Lazaridis design is in enabling him to do so. Visually, it works on so many levels. Literally. The overriding sense is of a community, a village clinging to a mountainside. The vertiginous structure conveys that. The platforms become individual dwellings within that village. The raw wood conveys both rusticity and the omni-presence of the cross.

Because The Greek Passion is precisely what it says on the score. Or, to be even more precise, a passion play within a passion play. As the Greek villagers prepare to act out the Easter story, they grow so much into the characters they are portraying that they in effect become them. And for the elders who cast them in the first place, that's a reality too far. Especially when the arrival of dispossessed asylum-seekers threatens to divide the community. Sounding familiar?

Other articles to see:

• Ed Vulliamy, No home for the huddled masses: Martinu's passionate allegory has powerful present-day resonances (The Observer, September 19)
  
• Erica Jeal, The Greek Passion (The Guardian, September 17)

I'm not sure but, if you are in London, you may still be able to get one of those discounted seats (Royal Opera offers seats for £10, April 6, BBC News).