Bill T. Jones (Artistic Director/Co-Founder - Ann Arbor District Library

UMS09/,
Like his Piano Concerto, the Flute Concerto
unfolds as one unbroken paragraph. The work
is subtly indebted to tradition, from its echoes of
the classical fast-slow-fast form, and its orchestra
of almost Mozartean proportions to the nature of
the solo flute part itself. Dalbavie has taken the
cliches of virtuoso flute writing, from the vaulting
arpeggios with which the concerto opens, and
used them in unexpected ways. It's as if a new
light from a new century has been cast over
the flute music of the past, splintering its familiar
gestures into an original sonic world. The entire
work is characterized by clearly defined ideas and
lucid textures combined with surprisingly complex
colors. It is easy to follow, yet it resonates with
provocative thoughts and sounds.
Over the years, Dalbavie has noticed that of all
the people who talk to him after a performance,
no two ever describe what they've heard in the
same way. "I'm deeply convinced that art is the
explosion of meaning," Dalbavie once said. "Each
person finds his own meaning in music. I don't
want the public to understand what I wanted to
do for myself. If they find a different meaning I am
happy."
Bluebeard's Castle (1911)
Bela Bartok
Born March 25, 1881, in Nagyszentmiklos,
Hungary [now Sinnicolau Mare, Romania]
Died September 26, 1945 in New York
Bluebeard first appears in the pages of Charles
Perault's Mother Goose tales, in the company of
Tom Thumb and Little Red Riding Hood. There
was an actual Bluebeard, a 15th-century dandy
named Gilles de Retz who dyed his beard blue,
dressed in the best silks and jewels, and is said
to have committed a number of crimes, although
the cold-blooded murder of his six wives is not
among them. Perault added that detail in his 1697
collection: Bluebeard's newest bride discovers the
heads of her predecessors neatly hanging behind a
closet door. In the 200 years between Perault and
Bartok, this legend took many forms and eventually
made its way to the world of opera; Gretry's Raoul
Barbe-bleue, Offenbach's Barbe-bleue, and Dukas's
setting of Maeterlinck's Ariane et Barbe-bleue were
the most successful.
Chicago Symphony Orchestra
Dukas's version was only four years old in 1911
when Bela Bartok began to write his first and
only opera, which is also based on the Bluebeard
legend. Bartok took a text already prepared by his
fellow countryman Bela Balazs for Zoltan Kodaly,
who never used it. In Balazs's version, the drama is
compressed into one act with only two characters.
(The former wives, of which there are now only
three, are mute; Balazs renames the newest bride
Judith.)
The basic stages of the drama can be quickly
summarized. The aging Bluebeard and his young
bride Judith enter the dark, vast, circular hall of his
castle. There are no windows, only seven massive
doors. Judith vows that their love will bring
sunlight and joy to the castle; Bluebeard says it can
never be. She insists on knowing what is behind
the seven locked doors. Finally, Bluebeard gives her
the first key, and thus begins the terrifying series of
discoveries that seals Judith's own fate. The first six
doors produce:
1. A torture chamber, its walls weeping blood
2. An armory, the weapons of war all stained
with blood
3. Great wealth and treasure, the jewels bathed
in blood
4. A perfumed garden, its soil soaked with blood
5. A vast panorama of the countryside, with
clouds casting a bloody shadow
6. Still waters, a great lake of tears
Bluebeard begs Judith to leave the last, seventh
door unopened; fearing that she already knows
the truth, she insists. The seventh door is unlocked,
revealing Bluebeard's three previous wives.
Bluebeard introduces the first, who came at dawn;
the second, who came at midday; and the third,
who came at twilight. Now Judith, who came in
the night sown with stars, joins the others behind
the seventh door. The door closes, and Bluebeard
is left in darkness.
As Peter Bartok, the composer's son, has
written:
Bluebeard represents Man as a tragic figure:
in fulfilling his nature, he must forego joy and
satisfaction; he must suffer and make others
suffer. Seeking truth, he is obliged to sacrifice