5/1/20

 

John Corigliano Jr. (1938- )

The work of American composer John Corigliano Jr. has been a truly unparalleled influence on me. As the son of New York Philharmonic concertmaster John Corigliano Sr., he rose to international fame as a composer during the second half of the 20th century. As an incredibly prolific composer, Corigliano (Jr.) is on the composition faculty at the Juilliard School, and has also received five Grammy Awards, the 2001 Pulitzer Prize for Music, and an Oscar. Some of his most famous works include his Clarinet Concerto (1977), Symphony No. 1 (1988), his film score for The Red Violin (1998), and the Pulitzer-winning Symphony No. 2 (2000). Today’s piece is one of his works for solo piano which, while perhaps not as famous, is one of my favorite works for piano of all time. Written in 1985, Fantasia on an Ostinato represents an attempt by Corigliano to write in the minimalist style. For this post, I would like to try something different than the rest of my posts - before reading beyond this paragraph, go ahead and skip down to the bottom and listen to the piece. As usual, I’ve linked a video that is accompanied by the score of the piece.

Now that you’ve listened to the piece, did anything sound familiar? If not, then stop reading the post at all and go listen to all nine of Ludwig van Beethoven’s symphonies. Even if you may not have heard it immediately, maybe you noticed the in-score note around 8 minutes in that indicated the quote of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 7, Movement II. This little quotation is perhaps why this piece appeals to me so much - the sheer music is brilliant, but what is truly sublime is the sense of discovery. As I mentioned in previous posts about minimalist music (the Arvo Pärt post on April 9 and the John Adams post on April 17), this style of composition is about the slow development of harmonic and textural change. Fantasia on an Ostinato absolutely nails this, opening with a chord to establish the harmonic setting, and then building and deconstructing ostinati which explore that initial idea. The piece is not pure minimalism, as it does feature abrupt changes in mood and texture from time to time, but I believe that this actually adds to the music. By not settling into a place of minimalist comfort, the piece is driven forward. I don’t want to get too off track from the point I made at the beginning of this paragraph, so take a moment and go back to about 2 minutes into the piece and see if you recognize anything there. Try again at just past 4 minutes in, right before the patterns begin. If it seems like I’m sending you on a goose chase then I apologize, but trust me, I will be sure to make sense of this all before the end of this post.

After a break from the ostinati 4 minutes in, Fantasia on an Ostinato (as the name might suggest) opens up into a new ostinato, which begins with just alternating notes and then evolves into repeating arpeggios. I find this passage of the piece utterly beautiful, falling through several different harmonic levels while building in dynamic an texture. In addition to that, with arrival point (in terms of harmony) there is a brief moment of clarity in the texture, almost as if it were rays of light filtering in through window blinds. Then, after a moment of harmonic turmoil, there is another ‘restart moment,’ but this time Corigliano offsets the two hands, invigorating the piece with a newfound sense of velocity. This new texture drives the piece forward, moving through floral outbursts and then intensifying as the pattern begins to collapse and the left hand moves lower on the range of the piano. Out of that emerges a new texture, one of repeating chords that eventually thins out to just a single repeating note. Finally, we find ourselves listening to the Beethoven quote with the repeating note simply hanging, twinkling above it. With the completion of one full Beethoven statement, the texture from around 5 minutes in gently reenters, as if to remind you how far you’ve come. From there the piece fades completely, peacefully landing on the same chord from the very beginning, only this time in minor.

So what’s the big deal about this Beethoven quote? In almost all music, there is a sense of direction: conflict that leads to resolution. The same can be said about this piece, but on several levels. The genius of this piece lies in how the pure harmonic and melodic content drives the piece forward alongside the ‘pursuit’ of the Beethoven quote. Corigliano is careful to hint at the quote twice before the end, yet obscure it in a way that makes it sound like a distant memory to the listener. The whole minimalist texture creates this sort of veil, allowing the quote to slowly come into clear view throughout the entire length of the piece. The choice of Beethoven’s Symphony No. 7, Movement II is also by no means arbitrary, as that specific piece shares several qualities with modern minimalism despite being written in 1812. That particular movement establishes the theme at the beginning, growing in orchestration until it evolves into a gloriously insistent theme presented by the entire orchestra. The theme is so famous that is populates a countless number of dramatic movies, usually underscoring a slow yet dramatic culminating moment of the plot. The effect that it has in Fantasia on an Ostinato is nothing short of mesmerizing, appearing as some apparition or memory that comes after several minutes of development. After it passes, the piece fades just as brilliantly as Tōru Takemitsu’s Orion, revealing the beautiful continuity of the music’s themes.

I do hope that my deep admiration of this piece has become apparent (but not troubling) through my analysis of the music. I had the rare pleasure to meet John Corigliano Jr. twice: once in my interview at the Juilliard School, and again when he visited the Blair School of Music (a picture of which can be found on the Gallery page). He visited in the fall semester of 2018, the same week as when the Nashville Symphony Orchestra was performing his Symphony No. 1. That piece is truly unbelievable in its own way, and if you have not heard it before, I could not encourage you enough to give it a listen. The piece was a response to the AIDS pandemic, and Corigliano honors many of the friends he lost to it. The piece is remarkably intense, but also showcases some of the most brilliant contemporary orchestral writing. Corigliano has been a major inspiration to me as I find my own voice as a composer. The private teacher who I studied with for many years in Milwaukee, Ron Foster, was a student of Corigliano’s, and so it is not unlikely that some of his style has trickled down to me. Regardless of influence from that medium, Corigliano continues to teach me with his music. Hopefully, he will speak to you in the same way.