Agnus Dei - Samuel Barber LIVE

A haunting performance by the Vlaams Radiokoor of Belgium.

Vers l'Avenir

I posted the Belgian national anthem, the Brabançonne, a long time ago, and here is another famous Belgian patriotic song, about facing the new twentieth century with "confidence, pride and high hopes for the future," as I said in my last post. The song also makes allusions to Belgium's colonial ambitions at the time. I am sorry that this version is only in French. The poet urges the Belgians: "March joyfully, energetic people, towards destinies worthy of you; God will protect free Belgium and her King."

Eugène Ysaÿe

HERE is a biography of the renowned Belgian virtuoso and composer. He was a close friend and violin teacher of Queen Elisabeth. "She plays badly divinely," he once remarked. Like many artists and savants, Ysaÿe found a kindred spirit in the poetic, intellectual queen and adored her. After Ysaÿe's death, Elisabeth founded her famous musical competition in his honor. Sadly, long after the fact, there have been those who have tried to distort their friendship into something sordid.

In her memoirs, Russian sculptress Catherine Barjansky, another member of Elisabeth's artistic circle, gives a touching account of Ysaÿe:

Ysaye was as charming a person as one could meet. He was tall and large and stout, with long straight hair, beautiful features, gray-blue eyes, and great intelligence and goodness. At this time he was in his late sixties but he appeared young and he was still handsome. He was wearing a black velvet jacket, striped trousers, pumps on his feet, and he came in exuberantly, greeted my husband with shouts of delight, whirled around to talk to me about Russia, declaring that he loved it, and exclaiming, "Caviar! O ma jeunesse!"

...His hospitality was indescribable. He had always been lavish in his generosity and had never managed to hang on to any money. His house and his purse were at his friends' disposal. Only one key he clung to and that was the key to his cellar. In the midst of his dinner, he took this key from his belt and gave it to a servant with long and careful instructions, explaining the particular wine he wanted to offer us.

I asked if he would pose for me, and he agreed at once. So the next morning I came to him. He was on the second floor, in a big room with three or four windows overlooking a little garden.

"Maître," I said, "I should like to do you with your left hand holding the violin."

"Of course."

"If you want to practice, please forget I am here while I work."

At that time, Ysaye no longer appeared in concerts, but he practiced every morning, and he was in wonderful form. He lifted his violin and began to play as only he could play. It would have been perfect if I could only have found the expression I sought for my sculpture.

Then he began to play the Mendelssohn concerto and at last I found the ecstatic expression only music can give. After that, whenever he posed for me he played the Mendelssohn. And now I cannot listen to it any more. I shall never again hear it as he played it. All the warmth and generosity of his nature was in his music. For he loved all the earthy and sensual things: good food, the sun, children, beautiful women, rain, physical love (Portraits with Backgrounds, 1947, pp. 127-129).

Here is a 1912 recording of Ysaÿe playing the Mendelssohn Concerto.

A Memory of Queen Elisabeth

In my gallery of sovereigns I cannot forget the gracious Queen of Belgium. I have always seen her, however, in company with her august husband, and this story would become interminable if I were to include “Their Majesties” of the sterner sex—the Emperor of Germany, the Kings of Sweden, Denmark, Spain, Portugal....

As I have had more to do with princes than with sovereigns, my tongue sometimes slips in talking to the latter. As I excused myself one day for addressing the Queen of Belgium as “Highness,” she replied, with a smile, “Don’t apologize; that recalls good times.”

She told me of the time when she and the king, then only heirs apparent, used to go up and down the Mediterranean coast in a little two-seated car. It was during this period that I had the honor of meeting them at the palace of his Serene Highness the Prince of Monaco, and of having charming and interesting personal conversation with them, for the king is a savant and the queen an artist.

~ Musical Memories, by Camille Saint-Saëns

Suzanne Danco

Here is a biography of one of my favorite singers, the great Belgian soprano, Suzanne Danco (1911-2000). She was a protégée of the music loving Queen Elisabeth of the Belgians. (Who says monarchs are a useless burden on their peoples?)

Berceuse héroique (1914)

 Claude Debussy's nostalgic tribute to the Belgian king and army amidst the horrors of the First World War.

The composer soon decided that he wished to compose some sort of piece for the war effort. Initially, he conceived of a "Marche Heroique," but that sort of thing did not mesh with his understated compositional style. A march which was meant to evoke strong patriotic feelings would have required loud, grand music. Debussy's piano music was always subtle and avoided "blatancy," as the composer put it. Also, Debussy thought that it seemed ridiculous for him to speak of heroism while he was living in peace, well away from the battles. In November 1914, the composer was able to compose his Berceuse Heroique for piano, which was dedicated to "His Majesty King Albert I of Belgium and his soldiers." The piece was included in the King of Belgium's Book. This simple piece for piano was to be the only work that Debussy composed in the 12 months following the start of the war.

A berceuse is a type of lullaby, mostly for solo piano. Many pieces in this genre were written in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. The Berceuse Heroique can still be called "heroic" because of its use of the Belgian national anthem, also known as the "Brabanconne." Debussy, as well as others, felt that the patriotism of the work did not reflect on listeners that would not recognize the tune. A sense of nostalgia, rather than heroism, is conveyed, especially in the orchestral version of the composition. Debussy completed this arrangement in December. The Belgian national anthem is presented somberly by many instruments throughout this orchestral work, as it is heard first in the bassoons, horns, and clarinets, then in the violas and cellos. The Concerts Colonne et Lamoureux, an orchestra, presented this version during their 1915 - 1916 season.

Queen Elisabeth Musical Competition

Queen Elisabeth of Belgium was a renowned patroness of the arts. She loved anything that uplifted the soul and music was her greatest passion. As her daughter, Marie-José, explains in her memoirs, Elisabeth, like her husband, King Albert I, sought a "noble escape" from the constraints of her royal position. Albert found solace in mountaineering; Elisabeth, in music. She practiced her violin daily and enjoyed playing quartets with other musicians. Sweet strains would echo through Laeken Castle...The great Belgian virtuoso, conductor, and composer, Eugène Ysaye, was one of Elisabeth's violin teachers and close friends. "She plays badly divinely," Ysaye once remarked. Another musical friend, Pablo Casals, commented: "she plays like a Queen."

A fruit of the collaboration between Elisabeth and Ysaye was the Queen Elisabeth International Musical Competition of Belgium. Ysaye's ideas inspired its development. According to one article:

What Ysaÿe wanted was a competition for young virtuosos with extremely broad-ranging programmes that included contemporary music, that brought out the technical and artistic maturity of the candidates and that would launch them on their careers. It was with this in mind that he thought of including an unpublished set work that would be studied in confinement without the help of anyone, least of all a candidate's teacher: the ultimate test.

Unfortunately, Ysaye's death in 1931, shortly after the creation of the Queen Elisabeth Musical Foundation, delayed the establishment of the competition. Only a few years later, the tragic deaths of King Albert and his daughter-in-law, Queen Astrid, plunged Belgium into mourning, and Elisabeth into deep depression, interrupting the project. In 1937, however, the first Ysaye Competition, featuring the violin, took place. It was a splendid success. The luster of Ysaye's name, and the prestige of the Belgian royal family, widely admired for their heroism in World War I, attracted elite performers from many countries. The Soviet school won an overwhelming victory, carrying off all the prizes, with David Oistrakh (not surprisingly!) placing first.

Broadcast on the radio, the Ysaye Competition rapidly became a widely beloved Belgian cultural institution. In 1938, a second competition, devoted to the piano, took place. Again, the Soviet school won a crushing victory, inspiring Elisabeth to found a new musical school in Belgium on the Russian model. With the help of Baron Paul de Launoit, a generous patron, the Queen Elisabeth Musical Chapel was born. The school flourished, markedly improving the training of young Belgian musicians. Unfortunately, however, a series of disasters- World War II, the collapse of the Queen Elisabeth Musical Foundation, and the upheavals of the post-war Royal Question - halted the Ysaye Competitions.

In 1950, the project revived, supported by Queen Elisabeth, Marcel Cuvelier (founder of the Belgian Jeunesses Musicales), René Nicoly (of the International Federation of Jeunesses Musicales), and Paul de Launoit. Named after the Queen, the new competition was launched in 1951. In 1957, it became a founder member of the World Federation of International Musical Competitions. Held annually, the Queen Elisabeth Competition continues to be one of the most prestigious and demanding musical contests, attracting the finest young violinists, pianists, composers, and vocalists. The gift of a poetic and generous Queen to Belgium and the world...

The official website of the Queen Elisabeth Musical Competition may be found HERE.

Marche Funèbre

The Marche Funèbre from Chopin's opus 35, played by Valentina Igoshina.

In her memoirs, discussing her father's last years, Marie-José writes: 

En effet, plus les années avançaient et plus mon père semblait se détacher des contingences de ce monde. Son esprit voyait les problèmes d'une manière de plus en plus élevée, n'en rétirant que l'essentiel. Une grande tolérance envers l'humanité tempérait toujours davantage son esprit critique....Par contre, son émotivité s'était accrue avec les années. Je me souviens des larmes qui embuèrent ses yeux au dernier accord de la Marche Funèbre de l'opus 35 de Chopin que je lui jouai un jour, à cette époque. 

In fact, the more the years passed, the more my father seemed detached from the contingencies of this world. His mind saw problems in a more and more elevated manner, only taking from them what was essential. A great tolerance towards humanity tempered, ever increasingly, his critical spirit... On the other hand, his emotivity had grown with the years. I remember the tears which filled his eyes at the last chords of the Funeral March of Chopin's opus 35, which I played for him one day, during this period. 

Listen to the Marche Funèbre and say a prayer for King Albert's soul on the (75th) anniversary of his death.