by Peter Cates

Sculptor
Camille Claudel (1864-1943)

Camille Claudel did a bust of her younger brother, the poet, essayist and diplomat Paul Claudel (1868-1955), when he was only 16 in 1884. One is captivated by the exceptionally vivid expressive lines in her brother’s face, the emotional vulnerability she brought out in bronze and the labor of affection she poured from her heart and soul in her tribute to him, a love that was betrayed by his treacherous institutionalizing of her in a psychiatric hospital in France from 1913 to her death, at 79, in 1943, with the full support of their mother and younger sister.

Camille was drawn to the artistic possibilities of soil, rock and clay at an early age, while the often bleak landscape of the northern France region of Villeneuve-sur-Fere, where her family spent several summers, appealed to her aesthetic and emotional sensibility, one that bore fruit in her art as evidenced in the 90 sculptures, drawings and sketches of her legacy that can be seen in museums listed in her Wiki biography.

She became a student of sculptor, Alfred Boucher (1850-1934), while living in Paris, and then Auguste Rodin (1840-1917) with whom she had a very passionate relationship of almost 20 years before he abruptly terminated it; some believe he resented her own work, feeling threatened by her rivalry.

Camille met English sculptor Jessie Lipscomb (1861-1952) and rented a workshop with her for several years and two other women sculptors, one of them having access to a foundry her family owned.

Although Camille did have an emotional breakdown during her 40s, the previously mentioned incarceration of her by her family was believed to have been based on their own selfishness in wanting the money her father left to her in his will after his death in 1913, and what they saw as immorality in her art. Within eight days, her brother signed her into the hospital against her will and only visited her seven times during the remaining 30 years of her life.

The 2013 film, Camille Claudel 1915, starring Juliette Binoche in the title role and which can be seen on YouTube, depicts Camille at the mental hospital after two years of living there. Binoche conveyed the writhing boredom, anger and emotional shutdown of the sculptor’s years there unerringly but the movie’s more than 90 minutes were agonizingly slow and the depicted scenes of institutional life frequently unpleasant.

Jean-Luc Vincent portrayed brother Paul as a monster of self-righteousness in his decision to leave her locked up for the rest of her life and was harrowingly convincing in his characterization; one wanted to break his neck.

One poignant scene occurs when the sculptor is walking on the grounds. She picks up some mud, starts shaping it with her hands, then angrily hurls it to the ground.

Unfortunately, there were no English subtitles on the YouTube. But, despite these quibbles, it is highly recommended!

by Peter Cates

Philharmonic

EMI, CDC 7474772, cd, recorded 1985-86.

Camille Saint-Saens (1835-1921) was displaying perfect pitch before he was three years old and would be a child prodigy on the piano by age five; however, his mother sensibly decided he was too young for any exposure to the rigors of public acclaim through an official debut but the boy was allowed to perform for family, friends and other small groups occasionally.

From 7 to 13 years of age, Saint-Saens studied with the gifted pedagogue, Camille-Marie Stamaty (1811-1870), who had certain unorthodox teaching tools; for example, he would set a bar in front of the keyboard, and insist that his students rest their elbows and forearms on it, relying only on their fingers and hands to play . The composer felt this was good training.

He gave his first public concert in Paris at 10 years old, performing Concertos by Mozart and Beethoven.

At age 13, he was admitted to the Paris Conservatory but, despite being an outstanding pianist, was strongly encouraged to study organ because of the prevailing view that employment opportunities for organists were far greater in France than for pianists, especially with the large number of churches. He switched his focus to that instrument, got a job as organist at 18 for one of the oldest Parisian churches, itself with 26,000 parishioners and made very good wages. Composer Franz Liszt declared Saint-Saens to be the greatest organist he ever heard.

One of Saint-Saens’s teachers introduced him to the music of Bach, which was one of his greatest loves.

While at the Conservatory, he was also an outstanding student in many other subjects, including French literature, Greek and Latin, philosophy, math, theology, astonomy etc., and would have a lifelong passion for learning.

He premiered the Organ Symphony in London in 1886 where it met with immediate success. Ironically, after 20 years of being a church organist, he cared little for the instrument yet wrote what I feel is his most moving work. It is scored for full orchestra, organ and two pianos and is given a very nice recording by organist Philippe Lefebvre, in a collaboration with the French National Radio Orchestra, under Seiji Ozawa, who was music director of the Boston Symphony from 1973 to 2002. Ozawa also included two very elegant tone poems based on Greek mythology, Phaeton and Omphale’s Spinning Wheel, on this mid-1980s CD.

As a young man, Saint-Saens championed the music of Schumann, Liszt and Wagner but grew quite reactionary with age. He was the teacher and lifelong friend of composer Gabriel Faure but considered Debussy and Stravinsky to be dangerous lunatics who deserved to be institutionalized, after hearing their music.

He gave his last recital in November 1921, at the age of 86, and was reported as being in vigorous health. A month later, he died suddenly of a heart attack while vacationing in Algiers.

Saint-Saens was so precociously talented from his earliest years that Hector Berlioz (1803-1869) commented that this young man lacked one important quality – inexperience!

by Peter Cates

Miscellany!

Placido Domingo

Opera singer Placido Domingo, who’s 79, has tested positive for coronavirus. We can all hope he will be fine, as people even older are recovering from this. But we need to continue with the suggested safety steps, too.

While on the subject of Domingo, I have some of his recordings – various complete operas, single arias, and three tenors collaborations with Pavarotti and Carreras. He also has had a long, professional singing career and seems to have paced himself, as opposed to some singers who ruin their voices earlier. His Cavaradossi on the Leontyne Price Puccini’s Tosca set conducted by Zubin Mehta is a good introduction to his artistry.

Dean Martin

Dream with Dean
Reprise LP, August 1964 release.

Dean Martin was a singer of talent, even if not on the same level as Frank Sinatra. He phrased with intelligence, suavity and an astute sense of timing.

This album featured him in a small jazz combo setting, accompanied by four very fine instrumentalists – guitarist Barney Kessel, pianist Ken Lane, bassist Red Mitchell and drummer Irv Cottler. Dino sang such staples as My Melancholy Baby, Fools Rush In, I’ll Buy That Dream and a scaled down, subdued Everybody Loves Somebody plus eight additional selections. And it can be heard on YouTube.

Gene Krupa and His Orchestra

It’s Just a Matter of Opinion; That’s My Home
Columbia, 37067, ten-inch 78, recorded mid-1940s.

Gene Krupa (1909-1973) was a truly gifted musician on the drums who expanded their boundaries from mere rhythm to outstanding artistic virtuosity on the 1930’s hit recording, Sing Sing Sing, by Benny Goodman’s orchestra. At various times during the ‘40s and ‘50s, Krupa led his own orchestra and recorded a number of 78s for Columbia Records.

Both sides feature the very good jazz singer, Buddy Stewart (1922-1950), who is joined in It’s Just a Matter… by Carolyn Grey, who was heard often during the big band days. The songs are not well-known staples but they are quality listening in their vocal and instrumental arrangements.

Krupa played frequent battles of the drums with friend Buddy Rich in concert and recording. He also struggled with heroin addiction but overcame it. Buddy Stewart was killed in a car accident at 27 while on a road trip to New Mexico to be with his wife and child. Carolyn Grey is still living at 98.

by Peter Cates

Schumann

Abendlied and Traumeri
with Arthur Fiedler conducting the Boston Pops. RCA Victor Red Seal , 12-0017, 12-inch 78 shellac record, recorded 1940s.

German composer Robert Schumann (1810-1856) composed masterworks of symphonies, concertos, solo keyboard, chamber music, choir and lieder. Pieces to introduce anyone new to his music would include the Rhenish Symphony with its evocation of the Rhine River, in Germany, the Spring Symphony in its opening brass fanfare and the sense of re-birth that begins every March 21, and the three sublime Concertos for piano, violin and cello.

Schumann was also one of the most important music critics of the 1800s, along with his contemporary in France, composer Hector Berlioz (1803-1869). And he wrote a review of Brahms’s music in 1853, when that composer was only 20, hailing him as a savior of European music.

He and his wife, Clara, also accepted Brahms as a new member of the family. Sadly, Schumann died in a hospital three years later where he was committed after his manic/depressive struggles overtook him and he jumped into the Rhine attempting to drown himself. An older sister had committed suicide 30 years earlier in 1825. But Clara and Brahms would be lifelong friends until she died in 1896.

Arthur Fiedler was music director of the Boston Pops from 1930 until his death in 1979, at the age of 83, and made hundreds of recordings for RCA Victor and then the German-based Deutsche Grammophon/Polydor label starting in the late ‘60s when he, the Boston Pops and the regular Boston Symphony switched over.

Schumann’s Abendlied, originally composed for four-hand piano, and the very well-known Traumeri, from the composer’s solo piano Kinderszenen or Scenes of Childhood, were arranged for orchestra and given very hauntingly exquisite performances by Fiedler and his players. I have many Boston Pops recordings from the Fiedler years but I cannot think of a better one than this gem.

This past Saturday, March 7, the Waterville Opera House had the Met production of Handel’s early opera, Agrippina, by delayed broadcast of a week. The plot involves sex, politics and off-and-on friendship and romance. Agrippina, the devious wife of the Roman Emperor, Claudius, was sung by Joyce di Donato. Other singers were Brenda Rae as Poppea, Kate Lindsey as Poppea’s heartthrob Ottone, Matthew Rose as Claudius etc.

This production changed the original grim story into a comedy with very suggestive humor, and situations and a frequently scantily clad Brenda Rae in her role as Poppea. Comments on the visual details end here. The music and singing were exemplary.

Wagner’s magnificent opera, The Flying Dutchman, is scheduled for this coming Saturday, March 14, starting at the usual time of 12:55 p.m.

by Peter Cates

John Greenleaf Whittier

After barely making ends meet for decades, Quaker poet/abolitionist John Greenleaf Whittier (1807-1892) hit paydirt in 1866 with the publication of Snowbound, an account of an 1800s family stuck inside the farmhouse during a beautiful blizzard and getting some quality time during its duration. I plan to write about him and other New Eng­land poets from his lifespan years in future columns, along with the sustaining of a commitment to Maine ones that has been on-going. The richness of the New England literary landscape in both its major and minor poets is beyond measure.

This week, I present several verses from another poem of Whittier’s, Amy Wentworth, in which he traces a heroine he modeled on those to be found in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, early colonial society of the 1600s, a group of people less Puritan than that of Boston, Massachusetts:

Her fingers shame the ivory keys
They dance so light along;
The bloom upon her parted lips
Is sweeter than the song.

O perfumed suitor, spare thy smiles!
Her thoughts are not of thee;
She better loves the salted wind,
The voices of the sea.

Her heart is like an outbound ship
That at its anchor swings;
The murmur of the stranded shell
Is in the song she sings.

She sings, and smiling, hears her praise,
But dreams the while of one
Who watches from his sea-blown deck
The icebergs in the sun.

She questions all the winds that blow,
And every fog-wreath dim,
And bids the sea-birds flying north
Bear messages to him.

She speeds them with the thanks of men
He perilled life to save,
And grateful prayers like holy oil
To smooth for him the wave.

Notice Whittier’s gifts as a storyteller in these verses and a general theme of true love!

For what it’s worth, before Whittier’s success with Snowbound, with which he made $10,000, he was supposedly quite lacking in social graces and wasn’t attracting the interest of women at all. After success, he was bombarded with marriage proposals and one woman went so far to buy a house next to his farm in Haverhill, Massachusetts, to have him within easy reach of her tempting tentacles.