Frank Martin at 70

By Henri Jaton

In judging a musical work, the critic cannot help bringing into play his own taste and the knowledge—whether complete or not—he has of the score in question and of its author. It is easy to understand that his judgment may contain a subjective element contrary to the real intention of the composer.

Thus the chronicler must consider it an exceptional privilege to be able to get the testimony of the musician himself, who is certainly the only one who knows the rhythm of his creative development and the reasons which have governed its course.

This privilege was granted to me a few months ago, when the world of music had a special reason for honoring the character and the work of the Swiss composer, Frank Martin. Last Sept. 15, Frank Martin celebrated his 70th birthday, while a few weeks before the scenic creation of the eminent artist, “Mystery of the Nativity”, was given a triumphant welcome at Salzburg.

More than other considerations which I myself realize would be insufficient, I thought that the two factors which I have stressed—a birthday and a new work—fully justified the trip to Holland and the interview with Mr. Martin.

Many years ago, Frank Martin chose the Dutch countryside for his retreat and studio. To be exact, he selected the picturesque village of Naarden which is ignored by the railroad, but which one can reach by stopping at the small station called Bossum.

For a creative artist, the atmosphere and environment in which he works are of high importance. In this respect, I think Frank Martin could not have imagined a more favorable environment. His house is located in the midst of a flower-bed on the edge of a forest through whose arches one can feel the immensity of nature.

This ideal location inspired my first question: “Were you following the lead of Sibelius, cher Maître, in choosing to live amid such admirable natural beauty?”

“Perhaps—though I cannot claim to belong to his generation.”

The exquisite amiability of my host seemed to authorize me to guide our conversation to the subject which seemed to me the most pertinent.

“The musicologists who have analyzed your work consider certain works of yours particularly important. Do you agree with this opinion?”

“Yes and no. If I had to name a high point in my work, I think I would name the ‘Vin Herbé,’ which is perhaps the first of my works in which I succeeded in forging a personal idiom.”

“Which allows me to think that in spite of everything you have evolved in a certain way?”

“Yes, probably, but in this respect I have never made a conscious attempt. I think that the various changes which occur in the nature and character of a composer’s inspiration follow a natural law rather than obeying a voluntary decision.”

“Probably. But you will admit that there is a world of difference between the esthetic conception of your symphony for large orchestra, written more than 30 years ago, and the language we find in your current works?”

“I cannot deny the contrast between the symphony of which you speak and my recent works. However, I believe that the ‘atonal’ experience was necessary for me in order for me to develop an authentic personal vocabulary.” “You mentioned the ‘Vin Herbé.’Does that indicate your preference for combining vocal and instrumental writing?”

“I immediately mentioned the ‘Vin Herbé’ because that was the work which enabled me to reach a truly international public. However, I have certainly always had a special predilection for using vocal forms. I like to write for the voice. When I am writing out a score, I sing each motif to myself in order to attain an absolutely natural melodic line which follows the rhythm of the words.”

“So we agree on the formal plane. However, haven’t some of your most eminent interpreters—Ansermet, Paul Sacher—seen a special individuality in your current writing?”

“With respect to that question, I will answer by telling you that from the time of my first attempts on I have always been attracted by chromaticism and the various possibilities of expression associated with it. That is a matter of taste. Even as a child, I was delighted by the chromaticism one perceives in numerous works by Bach or Mozart.”

“We find an abundant use made of this chromaticism throughout the score of your ‘Mystery of the Nativity’, which, however, seems to me to use a singularly purified syntax.”

“In the case of the ‘Mystery of the Nativity’ that is really a decision on my part. I chose the subject of the ‘Mystery’ to confine myself to a simplification of my writing. I employ archaic and modal elements for what concerns the celestial domain of the ‘Mystery,’ whereas the serial syntax comes into play in illustrating the terrestrial sections and atonality and its dissonances conjure up the world of Lucifer and his demons.”

One sees the lucidity of Frank Martin in choosing the material he is going to use. We have considered the “Mystery of the Nativity.” This composition marks an epoch in the work of the composer to such an extent that it seems indispensable to recall the circumstances of its premiere at Geneva and of its stage production at Salzburg.

On Dec. 23, 1959, Radio Geneva invited us to listen to the “Mystery of the Nativity,” presented in the form of an oratorio and interpreted by Ansermet, director of the Orchestre de la Suisse-Romande.

Perhaps Herbert von Karajan at Salzburg did not know that in carrying out the staging he was only following one of the first ideas of the composer. While working out the composition, the composer frequently made marginal notes in the manuscript concerning a possible stage adaptation of the “Mystery.”
Having attended the stage premiere at Salzburg, we are sure that the true character of the “Mystery of the Nativity” predestined it from every point of view to the stage. The illustrious Swiss composer had the singular good fortune of seeing his work performed at Salzburg under conditions so perfect that it would be difficult to better them. Mr. Martin availed himself of the services of two highly competent collaborators: Margarethe Wallmann as stage director and Helmut Jurgens as scenic designer.

When I asked him at Salzburg whether Miss Wallmann and Mr. Jurgens had been faithful to his dramatic conception of the work, Mr. Martin praised the exceptional services rendered to him and the perfect understanding he immediately reached with the organizers of the performance.

I can testify that this was not gratuitous enthusiasm. For they had created a masterful conception of dramatic presentation.

It was a formidable undertaking. Everybody knows what a delicate matter it is to treat a religious theme on the stage, and particularly when sacred personages are in question. Miss Wallmann and Mr. Jurgens have brilliantly solved this difficulty. Since they had to present the various aspects of the “Mystery”—celestial, terrestrial and diabolical—as we have already mentioned, Miss Wallmann made the wise decision to locate all episodes concerning the sky high over the stage in an ethereal light.

As for the terrestrial scenes, they took place in the foreground and were very ingeniously arranged. Instead of constantly changing the decor, which would have broken the rhythm of the production, Helmut Jurgens very skillfully arranged four permanent and independent stages, which represent the dwelling of Joseph and Mary, the cradle of Bethlehem and the Temple. When the action takes place on one of these stages, it is strongly illuminated by the spotlights, while the other parts of the stage remain darkened. Lucifer and his devils are placed below.

Thus, the three levels of the production are clearly distinguished, enhanced by the devices and possibilities of present-day lighting, offering a whole gamut of effects. They produce a startling impression.

The composer also had an admirable cast of soloists at his disposal. One will readily realize the unusually high quality of the vocal performance when one knows that the roles of Joseph, Mary, Gabriel, Elizabeth, Lucifer and Satan were sung by singers of the stature of Otto Wiener, Teresa Stich-Randall, Waldemar Kmentt, Regina Resnik, Ludwig Welter and Gerhard Stolze. Also appearing were Gi.inther Wilhelms, Murray Dickie, Siegfried Rudolf Frese, Caspar Brocheler, Frederick Guthrie, Guus Hoekman and Kurt Equiluz.

Ernest Ansermet was to conduct the performance of the “Mystery of the Nativity” at Salzburg as he had done at Geneva. Since his state of health did not permit him to do so, the responsibility for this world premiere passed to the young and brilliant German conductor, Heinz Wallberg. He showed a magnificent sense of authority and provided the production with all the precision and spiritedness that could be desired.

As to Frank Martin’s score, what can I say that was not already said for the Geneva production of the work? Only that, in this second performance, the exceptional beauty of Mr. Martin’s score was even more evident to us.

The German adaptation of the original text by Arnoul Gréban, carried out by Albin Kayser, gave rise to legitimate complaints. The spirit of the poem in “Old French” which was the inspiration for Frank Martin in his concert version of the “Mystery,” had no valid equivalent in the resources of the Germanic vocabulary. Hence, one can only deplore the fact that the work was not restored to us in its original form at Salzburg.

In spite of everything, it would be impossible to deny the great interest aroused at Salzburg by the staging of the “Mystery of the Nativity.” The unanimous praise of the international critics indicated that the “Mystery” is among the most important works ever written by Frank Martin.

The composer is, of course, better able than anyone else to name the basic stages in his career. It is clear that several scores must be known to anyone who attempts to formulate a fair judgment of Martin’s music—one of the most characteristic bodies of work contemporary music has given us.

The examination of the scores to which I have just alluded leads to this observation: there is not, it seems to me, a single sector of musical syntax which Frank Martin has not explored. This is not to say that he has done a great deal of “experimentation.” It is, rather, indicative of a gift of universality, a gift which is not by any means shared by all creative artists today.

Frank Martin has admitted his predilection for vocal music: Besides the “Vin Herbé,” the “Sonnets du Cornet Rilke", and the “Monologues” inspired by Hugo von Hofmannsthal’s drama “Everyman” testify that the composer is at home in every field of writing for the human voice.

In the field of the oratorio, where Arthur Honegger many times proclaimed his supremacy (“King David,” “Judith,” “Joan of Arc at the Stake,” “Dance of the Dead”), Frank Martin also has unquestionable successes to his credit. Such are the admirable “Golgotha” and the “In terra pax hominibus,” which was written at the request of Radio Geneva to mark the end of world hostilities.

On the stage, Frank Martin dedicated the score of the “Tempest,” the creation of which was directed by Ernest Ansermet, to the Vienna Opera.

In the practice of instrumentation, Frank Martin shows proof of equal mastery, as we can see in the masterful work Music for Seven Instruments and Orchestra, in the Overture in the form of a Rondo, the Etudes for Orchestra, and especially in the Small Concert Symphony. In the latter, the musician tries the experiment of combining the piano, the harp, the harpsichord and the orchestra. This is done so skillfully that the Small Concert Symphony established the fame of the author and emphasized the ability of the man who inspired it and was its first interpreter: Paul Sacher.

It is hardly necessary to recall that the Harpsichord Concerto, the Ballade for Cello and Orchestra, and the Violin Concerto, which had its premiere at Basle and was performed again at Paris for the Twentieth Century Festival, show the scope of a master whose work is a basic part of the music of our time.

Frank Martin is not proud of his eminence. On the contrary, he feels that the progress he has made throughout his fruitful career represents an evolution the stages of which have obeyed a natural rhythm. Smiling at the recollection of his immense efforts, Frank Martin avowed with touching humility: “In my family, all the Martins have reached full maturity late in life.”

On this occasion, we must recognize with admiration and gratitude that Frank Martin long ago gave us the proof of his maturity, thanks to which Switzerland today is represented in the council of the muses.