Prepared for presentation on March 2nd, 2009 in Jaclyn Kurash's Intermediate German course.
At right, Bach's fugue in G minor as captured by HungryBackspace on Flickr.
Because computing should be fun.
The opening theme from Bach's "Musical Offering," a six-part fugue.
Prepared for presentation on March 2nd, 2009 in Jaclyn Kurash's Intermediate German course.
At right, Bach's fugue in G minor as captured by HungryBackspace on Flickr.
Schwarze Milch der Frühe wir trinken sie abends
wir trinken sie mittags und morgens wir trinken sie nachts
wir trinken und trinken
This haunting poem by Paul Celan gives us pause. Titled "Deathfugue," the author references a musical term: fuge in the German, fuga in the Italian, or fugue in the English. Understanding the meaning of the word fugue will help us understand the structure of the poem.
A fugue introduces a musical theme, which is then repeated in multiple "voices" throughout the piece. By "voice," I mean a melodic line, not necessarily someone singing. To understand this, we might first look at a fugue written by J.S. Bach, an incredibly prolific composer whose musical works help define the very nature of Western music.
What does a fugue sound like? That may not help some of you. So, lets both look and listen. The following is Bach's Fugue in G minor, or the "Little Fugue."
You are probably more familiar with the Toccata and Fugue in D minor, also by Bach. The fugue comes in at 2:45 into the piece. You can either listen/watch your way through (it's fun), or just jump ahead.
These movies should give you some deeper insights into the nature of the fugue, and what it means for Celan to call his poetic work a "death fugue." I highly recommend you read more about Bach's life as well as the musical structure of the fugue if you want to relate these ideas to your writing about Celan's poetic work.
Music and poetry are not only about structure. They are complex forms that are used to convey ideas and emotion as well.
Krystof Penderecki is a Polish composer and conductor. During the 1996-1997 academic year, I had the opportunity to get to know the Agnus Dei from his Polish Requiem as a baritone in the Kenyon College Chamber Singers. The Agnus Dei is an incredibly haunting movement of a remarkable piece of music. You can read an about an interview with Penderecki from 1998 if you would like to know more about this work, or his Wikipedia page to learn more about the composer.
The piece builds slowly, using discordance and a choir split into far more than four parts to build, withdrawal, and then build again to a massive cacophony (approximately 5 minutes in... but listen to the whole piece), reflecting the pain and suffering of the Polish people during the 20th century. Instead of attempting to describe the piece, you can watch a video of Penderecki conducting the piece himself.
As there is a fair amount of hiss in the YouTube recording, I also have an MP3 available if you know the password.
The lyric for this movement (the Agnus Dei) follows that of a traditional requiem. That is to say, it is:
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere nobis.
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, miserere nobis.
Agnus Dei, qui tollis peccata mundi, dona nobis pacem.
which means:
Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, have mercy upon us.
Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, have mercy upon us.
Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world, grant us peace.
How do these two works—one text, one musical—reflect one-another? Is the structure of the poem critical to its impact, as is the case with Bach's fugues? Or, are there other structures at play, like the tidal-wave of emotion and calm-after-the-storm we feel in Penderecki's writing?
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