Josquin wrote, “What would be very valuable for me, as well as
probably many others, is a recommendation for a single Carter work and
version to start with.” Unfortunately, I may have gone a bit
overboard in responding.
The Cello Sonata (1948)
As somebody has already suggested, one good point of entry into
Carter’s music may well be the Cello Sonata. Taking a cue from
Stravinsky’s discussion of musical time in The Poetics of Music, the
first movement of the Cello Sonata demonstrates in a very clear way
the origin and nature of Carter’s thinking.
Carter had studied with Nadia Boulanger in Paris, and Boulanger was a
great apostle of Stravinsky’s music. As a Boulanger student, Carter
would have been familiar with the discussions of musical time that
unfolded in Stravinsky’s Parisian milieu, and he would have been
familiar with The Poetics of Music, which was essentially a manifesto
of Stravinsky’s neoclassicism. In the Poetics, Stravinsky had claimed
that late Romantic composers had fallen into the error of writing
music in “psychological time,” music characterized by its reliance on
a continuous and finicky rubato and by a corresponding lack of
objectivity and backbone. Ticking along with an elegant precision,
Stravinsky’s own music of the period, the composer claimed, was
written in “ontological time,” which he defined as “objective” time or
time as measured by the clock: Stravinsky believed that his
neoclassical music had restored an objectivity characteristic of 18th
century music that had gradually been lost in the 19th century, the
age of subjectivity. Far from administering a coup de grace to
“psychological” time, however, by the law of unintended consequences
Stravinsky’s discussion inspired the notion among many younger
composers that there were many different kinds of musical time.
In the first movement of Carter’s cello sonata, the cello and piano
inhabit different time worlds that seem to arise from the specific
qualities characteristic of the sounds produced by the two
instruments, an approach that has remained fundamental to Carter to
this day. While the cello is notable for its ability to project warm
melodic writing in a sostenuto style, the piano is a percussion
instrument, and, in the first movement of Carter’s sonata, the piano
ticks along like a neoclassical piece by Stravinsky projecting its own
precisely elegant music, while the cello goes its own way, completely
ignoring the steady ticking in the piano part as it projects a warm
rubato melody. To borrow Stravinsky’s categories, the cello part is
written in “psychological” time, the piano part in “ontological” or
clock time.
String Quartet no. 1 (1951)
Another good point of entry into Carter’s world might well be the
first string quartet, which is really the piece in which Carter turned
into Carter, as has often been said. One of the advantages of the
first quartet for the listener new to Carter is the fact that it is
already fully characteristic of the mature Carter but much less
fiercely concentrated than the later quartets.
Recalling the composition of the first quartet in the liner notes for
the Nonesuch recording with the Composers Quartet, Carter quoted
Joseph Wood Krutch to express his own feelings about the piece,
claiming that the quartet was written “largely for my own
satisfaction and grew out of an effort to understand myself.” The
quartet recalls the advanced American music of the period between the
wars and perhaps especially the 2nd String Quartet of Charles Ives and
Ruth Crawford Seeger’s string quartet. In Carter’s quartet, the parts
for each of the four instruments are independent and highly
individuated: unlike the successive entries in a Bach fugue, each of
which unfolds the same theme, the entries of each instrument in
Carter’s first quartet unfold different material. As for the forms
unfolded in the quartet, they are forms in continuous if gradual
evolution rather than forms depending on exact recurrences of
previously stated material.
String Quartet no. 2 (1959)
Double Concerto (1961)
Piano Concerto (1965)
Concerto for Orchestra (1969)
String Quartet no. 3 (1971)
At least in my opinion, nothing that Carter wrote between the first
and second string quartets is really on the level of those two
quartets. In any case, the 2nd quartet is the work in which finally
Carter arrived at the fierce concentration and exhilarating complexity
that would characterize his music for more than three decades. With
the arguable exception of the Double Concerto, the works written
between 1959 and 1971, the years in which he completed the 2nd and 3rd
quartets, may be the most difficult pieces Carter ever wrote for both
the performer and the listener.
Carter’s style is ultimately rooted in the developmental processes
characteristic of Western music from Haydn to Berg, but-- music in a
continuous state of flux -- Carter’s music is “developmental” and
processive in the extreme. It no longer depends on the recurrent
themes or motives that are developed throughout in a movement from a
Beethoven symphony or intermittently in a Wagner opera: fragmentary
new motives are constantly generated in the ever changing flux and as
quickly discarded. Furthermore, Carter absorbed the lessons that the
textures in the orchestral music of Debussy and Ives had to teach him,
and texture as such assumes an unprecedented importance in his
music.
Near then end of the dozen years spanning from the 2nd to the 3rd
quartet, Carter reached an extreme point in his development with the
Concerto for Orchestra and the 3rd quartet. These works feature the
most teeming and kaleidoscopic textures that Carter ever created, the
most mercurial forms, the most extreme individuation of the
simultaneously unfolding layers of texture: the Concerto for Orchestra
is a programmatic depiction of the winds sweeping across the North
American continent.
Several people have told me that they’ve found it easier to get a
handle on the Concerto for Orchestra than the 3rd quartet, and I seem
to recall that that was true of me as well, perhaps because of the
greater differentiation that the colors of an orchestra permit. In
any case, the Concerto for Orchestra is the piece from these dozen
years that I would recommend to a listener new to Carter. It’s
certainly one of the most exhilarating pieces ever written by Carter
or anyone else.
Brass Quintet (1974)
A Mirror on Which to Dwell (1975)
Symphony of Three Orchestras (1976)
Oboe Concerto (1987)
String Quartet no. 4 (1985)
Violin Concerto (1990)
(This is not a complete list of the works of this period.) Having
written the Concerto for Orchestra and the 3rd Quartet, there is a
sense in which Carter no longer had anything more to prove to himself,
and he became a more relaxed and fluent composer. From the mid-70’s
on, it has taken Carter less time to write each work, and the rate of
Carter’s production has steadily increased. (In the 50’s and 60’s
Carter was determined to avoid the awkward mechanical quality
characteristic of all too much of the “advanced” European music of the
1950’s, and there are pages and pages of sketches for such works as
the Concerto for Orchestra: sketching enabled Carter to become fluent
in the language of the piece before he composed it.) A comparative
relaxation in style is already apparent from the Brass Quintet and the
song cycle “A Mirror on Which to Dwell.” On the other hand, the
Symphony of Three Orchestras and the String Quartet no. 4 are as
ambitious, substantial, and finely wrought as anything Carter has ever
composed. (Carter’s less ambitious works are only less ambitious
relative to Carter’s more ambitious works.)
Among the pieces written in the two decades after the 3rd Quartet, the
oboe and violin concertos are among the more readily approachable
works. The Brass Quintet and Symphony of Three Orchestras are great
favorites of mine.
ASKO Concerto (2000)
Boston Concerto (2002)
Dialogues for Piano & Orchestra (2003)
Flute Concerto (2008)
I’m not exactly what marked the beginning of Carter’s late period.
His 90th birthday? In any case the works Carter has written in this
millennium are shorter, less complex, and rather more approachable
than the music of the 60’s and 70’s in particular. The first three
of these pieces are conveniently included on a single Bridge CD. You
can hear a snippet from the flute concerto with Emmanuel Pahud, the
Berlin Philharmonic, and Daniel Barenboim here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ef2SnJVjaRg
-david gable