To a Cold War generation reared to believe that only official arts could
flourish in the harsh cultural climate of the Soviet Union, the
discovery of a vast and fantastically varied world of music came as not
just one surprise, but many. Even during the dark Brezhnev years, the
part-Tatar, part Russian Sofia Gubaidulina was improvising with a group
of unapproved folk musicians and developing a musical language for her
even more strenuously unauthorized Russian Orthodox faith. In Georgia,
Giya Kancheli was producing music of quiet theatricality, and explosive
reverence. In Azerbaijan, Franghiz Ali-Zadeh was charging down two
simultaneously un-Soviet paths: Viennese modernism in the spirit of
Arnold Schoenberg, and mugham, the classical folk music of her
homeland. In the 1990s, after the Soviet empire collapsed, the Kronos
Quartet was quick to capitalize on the newly popular rubric of Eastern
European mysticism, which included, somewhat awkwardly, composers who
had little more in common than a spirit of non-materialistic
transcendence. Night Prayers is not so much a collection of
religious music as a mood album, a document of a time when composers
found refuge from their historical era in an elaborately constructed
sense of timelessness. (Justin Davidson)
Comentarios
Publicar un comentario