The Versatile Clarinet

Roger Heaton

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2013
• eBook ISBN: 9781135477318
• Topic: Media & Performing Arts
• Subtopic: Music

The Versatile Clarinet gives a wide-ranging look at the clarinet and the music that has been played on it. The book offers a brief survey of the types of music that have been played on the instrument, key players, and issues facing clarinetists as they seek to expand the instrument's repertory and recognition. The topics covered include everything from playing early and historic clarinets; jazz clarinet technique; contemporary and avant-garde music; klezmer clarinet; and the history of clarinet recording. The book will appeal to clarinetists, music historians, musical instrument scholars, and general readers interested in the development of this important instrument.

1

THE EARLY CLARINET: HISTORICAL ICON OR POSTMODERN INVENTION?

Colin Lawson

Has the clarinet improved as a musical instrument since Mozart’s day, or has it merely changed? This is a question that has come to be asked with some regularity, as old clarinets familiar from photographs and museums have become a commonplace on the concert platform as part of the move toward historical awareness and a desire to redis-cover original performance conditions. Mozart’s clarinet certainly was very different in sound and appearance, manufactured in boxwood and ivory with a mere five keys rather than the seventeen or so of today’s instrument. Naturally, there can be no guarantee that even if we could hear Anton Stadler’s 1791 première of Mozart’s Clarinet Concerto we should want to adopt all of its features, since to some degree early twenty-first-century taste would almost certainly continue to influence our interpretation.

As long ago as 1915, Arnold Dolmetsch remarked, “we can no longer allow anyone to stand between us and the composer” (1915/1974, 471). The movement he helped to found has been well documented in Harry Haskell’s The Early Music Revival (1996), an account of the activities of musicologists, editors, publishers, instrument makers, collectors, curators, dealers, librarians, performers, teachers, and record producers. Since that time the philosophy of historical performance has been subject to vigorous debate in the work of Nicholas Kenyon and Richard Taruskin, amongst many others. Throughout the twentieth century period performance met with many critics, Stokowski being among those who preferred to rely on tradition rather than primary sources. Pierre Boulez, Colin Davis, and Neville Marriner at various times voiced similar disdain. On the other hand, Hindemith in the 1950s proclaimed himself in favor, but added the far-sighted comment that the spirit of earlier times could never really be recaptured. Enthusiasts for the cause nowadays number international conductors such as Mark Elder, Charles Mackerras, Simon Rattle, and Edo de Waart.

Although a period performance of Beethoven’s Clarinet Trio (with Piet Honingh on Telefunken SAWT 9547-A Ex) found its way onto LP as early as 1969, it was some time before classical (as opposed to baroque) repertoire was regularly played on historical instruments, so that the clarinet was a relative late-comer to the early scene. There were, however, a handful of pioneering, adventurous clarinettists in the 1970s, including Hans Deinzer, Alan Hacker, Piet Honingh, and Hans-Rudolf Stalder. In Britain, Alan Hacker’s work became especially well known through recordings for L’Oiseau Lyre with his own period ensemble The Music Party. But even in 1980, The New Grove article “Performing Practice” contrived to perpetuate the myth that in contrast to pre-1750 repertory, a “continuity of tradition” existed from the classical period onwards that marginalized the necessity for historical awareness: “there has been no severance of contact with post-Baroque music as a whole, nor with the instruments used in performing it” (Brown, 388). Subsequent musical revelations proved this article untenable, beginning with Christopher Hogwood’s cycle of Mozart symphonies in the early 1980s, followed by Beethoven and continuing with Haydn, Mendelssohn, Schumann, Brahms, and even Verdi. This later repertoire established the period clarinet as part of mainstream musical activity. Meanwhile, it is no accident that players of the modern clarinet have tended to ignore much of the small-scale classical repertory, whose character is arguably better suited to the lighter and less cumbersome tone of boxwood clarinets. Such repertory includes the sonatas by Devienne, Vanhal, Lefèvre, Mendelssohn, and Danzi. Meanwhile, the once-favored term authenticity has mercifully gone into a decline. Translated from the German werktreue — faithfulness to the musical text — it came for a time to signify an impossible (not to say undesirable) dream. Any hint of an attempt to replicate original performances rather than re-create them was bound to cause hackles to rise in unsympathetic circles.

What, then, are historically aware musicians attempting to achieve? There are divergent opinions with regard to basic matters of style, equipment, and technique. Each player (of any instrument) has an individual approach to the balance of practical expediency with historical accuracy, in relation to matters of style, equipment, and technique. Meanwhile, faced with the vague promise of “original instruments,” the CD consumer generally remains unaware of such issues. Of course, past virtuosi associated with great composers such as Mozart, Weber, and Brahms were not subject to the discipline of the microphone, which has imposed a veneration for accuracy permeating not only today’s concerts but preliminary rehearsals, whether on period or on modern instruments. Admiration for the careers of such players as Anton Stadler, Heinrich Baermann, and Richard Mühlfeld serves to remind us that it is the exceptional rather than the ordinary in musical history that captures our attention. This represents a striking contrast with the standardization that has become rife in many aspects of our musical lives. Furthermore, our view of history is bound to be informed by the musical taste of our own times, and by a blatant selectivity that simply ignores uncomfortable elements, for instance the appalling orchestral conditions in Beethoven’s Vienna. How are we to respond to Stadler’s curriculum for students dating from 1799 that, in emphasizing the importance of a good general education, observes that anyone wanting to understand music must know the whole of worldly wisdom and mathematics, poetry, education, art, and many languages? Certainly, the value of a wide range of musical knowledge to complement intuition and artistry has been recognized by generations of composers and performers. Those elements of style that a composer found it unnecessary to notate will always for us remain a foreign language, but with diligence we come to converse freely within it as musicians, and so bring a greater range of expression to our playing, rather than merely pursuing some kind of unattainable authenticity. The mere fact that in Mozart’s day, detached, articulate playing was the norm is a salutary reminder that playing styles have changed out of all recognition.

What constitutes an early clarinet? As might be expected, old instruments survive in a variety of conditions, sometimes with virtually invisible problems relating to the bore. On the other hand, copies bring an opportunity to choose both original and modern makers; there is often more than a nod toward practical considerations, with the addition of extra keywork, tweaking of intonation (often via computerized tuning machines), and even a “normalizing” of the pitch to standardized historical pitches of a′ equals 415 (baroque) or a′ equals 430 (classical). The supremacy of practical over historical considerations may also extend to mouthpiece lay, design, and material, as well as to reed type. Mouthpieces are often made of materials unknown to Mozart and his circle. The now ubiquitous ebonite, for example, appeared only just in time for the 1851 Great Exhibition; admittedly, it is less vulnerable to warping than wood, but the demands of recording and the rigors of air travel can only partly justify its use in conjunction with historical models. In relation to technique, there is also a tendency to ignore unpalatable historical evidence; for example, the baroque clarinet was originally played with the reed against the upper lip, the modern practice of reed-below becoming official policy at the Paris Conservatoire only in 1831.

Early nineteenth-century repertoire by Beethoven (Austria), Cherubini (France), and Rossini (Italy) was doubtless played with radically differing embouchures, though this is yet to be reflected among today’s performers. In terms of fingering, treatises and tutors are a useful guide to original practice, though one writer in 1811 observed that each instrument was different from the next and that it was up to the player to find his own solutions. There can be no doubt that almost every aspect of music making was far less standardized than we can nowadays imagine. Clive Brown has been among those to question the provenance of many of the “period” orchestral instruments in Beethoven symphony cycles, warning in the early 1990s that the public was in danger of being sold “unripe fruit.” The prevalent cavalier approach to historical equipment contributes to a contemporary performance style that Richard Taruskin in Text and Act: Essays on Music and Performance famously described as “completely of our own time, … in fact the most modern sound around” (1995, 102).

A working collection of early clarinets (representing a considerable financial outlay) reflects the clarinet’s colorful history since 1700, when single-reed instruments first appeared in art music. The invention of the clarinet at the beginning of the eighteenth century was ascribed to the Nuremberg maker Johann Christoph Denner (1655–1707), but details have remained shrouded in mystery ever since. It seems that the first step was to couple a single vibrating reed and mouthpiece to the family of recorders, resulting in the chalumeau — an instrument that probably originated in France, as its name implied. Denner is known to have been interested in French manufacturing techniques, which in the late seventeenth century had developed the flute, oboe, and bassoon. Chalumeaux find a place in the catalogs of many of today’s makers, the instrument having inspired a large repertoire dating from around 1700 to the 1770s by Graupner, Handel, Telemann, and Vivaldi, as well as a host of Viennese composers from Fux and Bononcini to Gluck, Dittersdorf, and Hoffmeister. Many of the most important pieces with chalumeau have recently been recorded, such as the Fasch concerto, the Telemann Double Concerto, and Vivaldi’s Juditha Triumphans. Of many telling obbligati for the soprano chalumeau, Zelenka’s delicate writing in the first lesson of his Officium Defunctorum (Z47) from 1733 has recently appeared on CD. Vivaldi’s Nisi Dominus RV803, incorporating an evocative obbligato for tenor chalumeau, has only recently been given its correct attribution to the composer.

Each of the four sizes of chalumeau was restricted to a range of an eleventh or twelfth in its fundamental register, whereas the earliest two-keyed clarinets were used like trumpets in the music of Handel, Vivaldi, and Molter. Because they were virtually restricted to music in their tonic key, clarinets began to be made in a variety of tonalities other than the norm of C or D. Gradually, five-keyed classical instruments in C, Bb, and A were developed and the clarinet’s cantabile qualities began to be exploited by the Mannheim School of Johann and Carl Stamitz. As the lowest register became more secure, the chalumeau as a separate entity finally disappeared from the scene in the 1770s, though its highly individual sound cannot be re-created on any type of clarinet, historical or modern.

Mozart’s celebrated friendship with Anton Stadler greatly enhanced the profile of the basset horn, a tenor clarinet usually in F, which incorporated a downward lower extension of four semitones. The basset horn assumes a prominent role in Mozart’s Serenade K361 for 13 instruments, in the Requiem K626, and in a host of smaller pieces. Original basset horns have been widely copied, and many period clarinettists now possess a basset clarinet, that unique amalgam of clarinet and basset horn for which Mozart wrote the Clarinet Quintet K581 and the Concerto K622. Basset clarinets in A remain something of an extravagance, since they are used only to perform these two (admittedly exquisite) pieces. A number of different original designs of basset clarinet survive, but one of Stadler’s programs from Riga dated March 21, 1794, has an engraving of an instrument culminating in a 90 degree angle and bulb bell.

Equipped with chalumeaux, baroque clarinets, classical clarinets, basset horn, and basset clarinet, the player must now address the repertory of the early nineteenth century, a period of increasing tonal strength and mechanical sophistication. In 1811 Baermann played Weber’s concertos on a ten-keyed clarinet, and many players now have copies of instruments made by the great Dresden maker Heinrich Grenser, whose clients included the Finnish virtuoso Bernhard Crusell. Meanwhile, in 1812 the clarinettist-inventor Iwan Müller presented to a panel of judges at the Paris Conservatoire a new 13-keyed Bb clarinet, which he somewhat rashly claimed could play in any tonality. Significantly, it was rejected because it was felt that its exclusive adoption would deprive composers of an important tonal resource provided by the different sounds of the A, Bb, and C clarinets then in use. However, Müller’s clarinet remained influential on later 13-keyed designs in both France and England and was developed by Baermann’s son Carl into the system used by Mühlfeld for which Brahms wrote his late chamber music. Original French 13-keyed instruments survive in some numbers and have been used for recent recordings of Berlioz, who wrote of the clarinet that it was “the voice of heroic love.” In England the 13-keyed Albert (or simple) system clarinet was overtaken by the now ubiquitous Boehm system only in the interwar period.

The Brahms centenary in 1997 provided further stimulus to engage in historical re-creations of his music, and some clarinettists commissioned copies of Richard Mühlfeld’s Baermann system clarinets made in Munich (c.1875) by Georg Ottensteiner. Their mellow tone quality arises from their manufacture in boxwood, a surprising feature in view of their relatively late date and the fact that Mühlfeld continued to play them until 1907, the year of his untimely death. Their sound matches the less aggressive, more articulated sound of a string quartet playing with gut strings, or the more gentle qualities of a late nineteenth-century piano, especially when Brahms’s meticulous small-scale phrasing is taken into account. The extent to which the qualities of an instrument dictate a player’s musical impulse remains a controversial issue, but the Ottensteiner clarinets do suggest a more vocal approach, and this significantly changes the perspective of the perennial argument with viola players as to which instrument best serves Brahms’s magnificent Sonatas Op. 120. The Oehler system used today in Germany represents a further development of the Baermann system, the Germans jealously preserving their own design and consistently resisting the widespread incursion of the Boehm system elsewhere. German systems are clear descendants of the clarinet known to Mozart, have their own special qualities, and are in occasional orchestral use elsewhere (e.g., in the United States) for appropriate repertory. In a discussion of historical clarinets it comes as something of a shock to find that the Boehm system, a radical remodelling of the acoustics and mechanics of the clarinet, was patented as early as 1843, a mere half century or so after Mozart’s death. Although nowadays taken for granted in most corners of the world, the Boehm model is of course only one possible solution to the complex problem of building a clarinet.

Performance with a period clarinet is in itself no guarantee of stylish interpretation, and today one often hears early instruments played with a direct transference of modern articulation and phrasing. This represents a wasted opportunity to explore their true potential and can be accounted for partly by perceptions of what is thought to be acceptable on CD. Arguably, modern clarinet playing has moved further in the direction of a smooth, seamless effect than other wood-winds. In any event, clarinettists have something of a reputation for being stylistically unaware and it does take a special determination to become a truly articulate player, and to match the nuance of an expressive violinist. As we gain an instinctive knowledge of stylistic parameters, early clarinets can help us to explore the language of the slur and other expressive devices of the great composers. This pursuit of different performance styles may involve a variety of instruments, but they are essentially the means to an end, however delicious they may be to play in purely physical terms. The tutor written for the Paris Conservatoire by Lefèvre in 1802 warns that clarinet playing can become monotonous without articulation and nuance. He remarks that uniformity of execution means that a certain coldness has often been attributed to the nature of the instrument, whereas in fact this is the responsibility of the player. Lefèvre tells us that the clarinettist needs not only musical taste but also a knowledge of harmony. Significantly, he regards an Adagio as the most difficult movement to execute, its character quite distinct from an Allegro.

Useful as Lefèvre is, we need to explore primary sources beyond the clarinet literature, which often point up ambiguities and controversies, as well as solutions. The flautist Quantz in 1752 described music as “nothing but an artificial language” and we can learn much from his analogy with oratory. His aim was to train a skilled and intelligent musician, remarking that the majority of players have agile fingers and tongues but that most are deficient in brains! C. P. E. Bach similarly warns that players whose chief asset is technique are clearly at a disadvantage. Both writers state that if a player is not moved by what he plays he will never move the listener, which should be his real aim. In the context of the modern recording studio, we can easily feel embarrassed to read such sentiments, but in the eighteenth century communication of emotion in music was a real priority. Tonal quality has always been difficult to encapsulate in words and real historical evidence is in short supply via primary or secondary documentary sources. There are one or two useful examples: Stadler’s playing was memorably praised for his emulation of the human voice, while H. M. G. Köster commented in the Deutsche Encyclopädie (Frankfurt, 1781) that “the clarinet … has a softer tone than the oboe, and shriller than the flute; it is midway between the oboe and the transverse flute.”

In assuming a good knowledge of harmony and the art of singing, eighteenth-century writers were in fact expecting that the performer would glean a great deal of interpretative information from the rhythm, melodic intervals, phrasing, and harmony notated in the score, and adapt his technique accordingly. For example, it was expected that dissonances would be stressed, with corresponding release at their resolution. This invitation to engage more intimately with the musical notation will surely be an important legacy of today’s historical movement. Appropriate sound quality relates closely to such an outlook and ultimately justifies the constant effort of supplying the various clarinets with responsive reeds, whilst endlessly striving to adjust to their different techniques and fingerings. In some ways, our present musical climate is calculated to defeat even the most dedicated player, as we are sometimes required to play clarinets from several historical areas in a single day. Research into the clarinet and its music over the past generation or so has yielded a great deal of material that can inform the task; recent literature (Lawson 2000; Rice 1992, 2003) has even incor...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Half Title
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Table of Contents
• Preface
• Introduction
• Chapter 1. The Early Clarinet: Historical Icon or Postmodern Invention?
• Chapter 2. The Extended Clarinet: Four Contemporary Approaches
• Chapter 3. The Clarinet and its Players in Eastern Europe and Greece
• Chapter 4. The Albanian Kaba and the Clarinet
• Chapter 5. Jazz Clarinet Performance
• Chapter 6. William O. Smith — Musical Pioneer: A Look at the Work of One of America’s Most Inventive Musicians
• Chapter 7. A Few Issues Regarding the Performance of New Music
• Chapter 8. The Bass Clarinet
• Chapter 9. The Contrabass Clarinets
• Chapter 10. Toward a Beginning: Thoughts Leading to an Interpretation of Domaines for Solo Clarinet by Pierre Boulez
• Appendix A
• Appendix B
• Contributors
• Index