Art and Music: Or The Drawing I Am Not Yet Ready To Draw

An aspect of my work that I have not considered for some time (or at least not since I began this website and blog) is my love of music. It has been a passion of mine all my life, predating my artistic journey by decades. You will often find me immersed in the rich landscapes of imagination, space and emotion that music conjures up in me; very similar, in fact, to my preoccupations and interests as a visual artist.

In classical music and opera in particular I find a world that really transports and delights me. Of all musical forms, opera has the capacity and range to do this par excellence (when done well - which is not always the case). It combines music, drama, design and stagecraft on even the grandest of scales, often taking in some of the biggest and most complex ideas and themes of human life: love, death, or power, for example.

 

“The Arrival of Judith”. Set model for Bela Bartok’s opera “Duke Bluebeard’s Castle”. Mark Clay (2017).

 

And there is no grander scale in opera than the work of Richard Wagner (1813-1883).

Time and again, I am drawn back to my favourite Wagner opera, “Parsifal” - his final work and a summation of a lifetime’s preoccupation with the combination of words, music and ideas. As a musical layman, little more than an enthusiastic if slightly informed amateur really, I can make no attempt to analyse such a vast and complex art work that will mean anything to anyone other than myself, so I will limit myself to saying that what entrances and interests me so much about ‘Parsifal’ (above and beyond the amazing, richly suggestive and often ethereal music) is its preoccupation with contrasting themes such as sin and redemption, and the inter-relation of time and space, particularly through music that seems to stop time in places, and move freely through both as if through air.

In Act 1 of the opera, Wagner inserts a famous and much admired passage titled “Verwandlungsmusik” - “Tranformation Music”. On a merely practical level, this is a musical interlude designed to allow a theatrical scene change, perhaps behind a temporarily lowered curtain. But what a scene change Wagner makes of it. After a few moments of explanation the Grail Knight Gurnemanz ushers Parsifal into the hidden realm of Monsalvat, the home and temple of the Knights of the Holy Grail:

 
 

Gurnemanz:“…No earthly path leads to it, and none could tread it whom the Grail has not itself guided.”

Parsifal:“I barely walk, and yet seem already to have travelled so far.”

Wagner excelled at conjuring up atmosphere and emotion in his music. Through complex, elusive harmonies and richly intertwined themes, we can hear the ground shift and alter under Parsifal’s feet as he leaves the lakeside and forest location of the first scene and arrives - somehow - in Montsalvat. The call of offstage trombones, the tolling of strange bells and the heavy march of the Grail’s approaching faithful signal his, and our, arrival in this new place seemingly beyond space and time. (The above YouTube recording runs on into the following scene, just because it’s so striking.)

It is this idea of “Tranformation"” and whether I can explore visually the effect that this amazing and powerful music has upon me, that has preoccupied me for many months. And yet I still do not feel ready to embark upon it yet. Like Parsifal in the opera that bears his name, I must wander in uncertainty and confusion for a time before I truly understand the task before me.

I will let you know when I am ready to return to Montsalvat.