Peer Gynt Hunted By The Trolls

Henrik Ibsen's Peer Gynt is a five-act play in verse; it was planned and staged from the outset to be accompanied by Edvard Greig's incidental music, so the music has always been integral to the verse play.

The best recording of Greig's Peer Gynt is said to be Thomas Beecham/RPO's 1957 version.  My copy of the Penguin Guide to Compact Discs says other recordings "rest under the shadow of Beecham's".  And that's the one I grew up with; and I have it on CD now.  Standouts for me are Ase's Death and, of course, a superlative version of In the Hall of the Mountain King, complete with a wild and thrilling Germanic chorus that you just don't often hear.

But when we listen to Grieg's Peer Gynt, we're not hearing it all.  Most versions have only about eight to ten pieces, but the complete score had 26 movements, some of them only rediscovered in the 1980s.

Last week, I took a spur-of-the-moment opportunity to acquire a two-CD set - why not try something different?

It was Neeme Jarvi's 1987 recording with the Gothenburg Symphony Orchestra, which turns out to be the first full recording, and which Penguin placed at the top of the extended recordings.

Definitely worthwhile in itself - Grieg is far too underrated.  But the most pleasant surprise, and my highlight of the week, was hearing a piece called Peer Gynt Hunted By The Trolls.  Not very long, but it's a wonderful counterpoint to Mountain King - it's the same wild ride, but also gives me the thrill of the new.  Maybe Grieg left it off the musical suites he spun off from the work because it sounded too similar to Mountain King.  To the casual observer, perhaps, but if you're just too familiar with Mountain King, this brings back the excitement, then heightens it.  Listen to them together.

Here's some representations.  The first one's Beecham's; the second is similar to Jarvi's, but omits the dialogue.

The perils of recycling music

I have to get this off my chest. My appreciation of Sibelius' 5th Symphony was ruined by the baggage thrust upon me long ago.

Trouble is, the start of the fourth movement is copied directly into the break of the 1974 song Beach Baby, by studio band First Class. So I can think of nothing else when I hear that passage.

The usurpation of classical themes for pop music is relentless. However, that particular time saw something of a peak. This was quite apart from some of the direct pop-isation of specific pieces, such as:

• 1971 Waldo De Los Rios - Mozart's Symphony #40 [jazzed up with guitar, drums, etc]
• 1972 Apollo 100 - Joy [Bach's Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring]
• 1973 Deodato - Also Sprach Zarathustra [from Richard Strauss]
• 1975 Walter Murphy - A Fifth of Beethoven [his Fifth Symphony, disco style]

- and those were only the palpable hits. Such music-makers were strongly prone to repeating the formula until their popularity waned - as it did consistently in the above cases.

Gustav Holst: the bringer of joy

Around that time there was also a filching of specific classical themes to be disguised. More insidious, one could say. As well as the one mentioned up top, these included:

• Holst's Jupiter, from the Planets -> Manfred Mann's Earthband - Joybringer 1973
• Bach's chorale from St. Matthew Passion -> Paul Simon - American Tune 1973
• Chopin's Prelude in C Minor -> Barry Manilow - Could It Be Magic 1973, hit in 1975
• Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto No. 2, second movement -> Eric Carmen - All By Myself 1975

All these are just what I remember off the top of my head, from a thin slice of history. Yes, this happens all the time; I'm just listing specific pieces that I know have been tainted for me. Classical composers in turn are not above this - Bach's chorale above wasn't an original theme, uplifted as it was from an earlier piece that may also have had its history.

And thievery sometimes has its desserts, as Eric Carmen found, when the Rachmaninov turned out to be still in copyright, although the composer was dead. Payments eventually filtered through to Rachmaninov's estate.


Something incidental I found about Paul Simon's American Tune. A minor hit at the time, I barely heard it, and assumed it was a piece of flag-waving. More attention much later, from a CD compilation, and it sounded to me like an expression of the strain of constant travel (touring). But it turns out to be a direct response to Richard Nixon's re-election in 1972. When put in context, the strands of world-weariness, as well as all the words, fit very neatly into place. Worth revisiting the lyrics, here from Simon's own web site.

Other discussions of early 1970s pop music: Vigrass and Osborne; songwriters Ellie Greenwich and Roger Cook.

Mahler vs Beethoven

I heard an interview recently on ABC Radio National with Zubin Mehta, the Parsi Indian conductor.

Mehta, asked about an orchestra's typical season, responded that Mahler - whose work has been one of Mehta's focuses - shouldn't be in everyday repertoire. By way of explanation, he said that into each of Mahler's symphonies, he had put everything he'd learnt up to that point, with the implication that it would be too dense for regular appreciation.

In talking about a typical season, the announcer opined that Mozart was something we could all listen to every day. Mehta moved quickly away from that, but felt that Beethoven's Eroica [Symphony No. 3] ought to be played every season.

We all have our musical preferences, and I've not listened to Eroica in great detail. But I wouldn't disparage the suggestion that Beethoven's 3rd could be listened to live at least once a year, with enjoyment and something to be gained from it each time.

My particular interest right now stems from the discovery that the second movement's theme provides the motif for a favourite piece of music of mine, Richard Strauss' Metamorphosen. I've been listening to Eroica today, but haven't been able to pick it out. Yet.