Béla Bartók at the Center of Chamber Music Modernism in UNC Music Department Concert

Chapel Hill — Béla Bartók (1881–1945) was a Hungarian composer, pianist, and ethnomusicologist whose music sits at a crossroads of folk tradition and modern classical innovation. 

Last Sunday, UNC-CH’s Department of Music presented the Music of Bartók in Moeser Auditorium (Hill Hall) in an afternoon of expanded chamber music.

His Sonata for Two Pianos and Percussion, Sz. 110 was complemented with pieces by Leoš Janáček and Alberto Ginastera. 

The Musicians and background

For Janáček’s Violin Sonata, violinist and Professor of Violin at UNC, Nicholas DiEugenio, performed with Teddy Robie at the Steinway, and with Mimi Solomon at the piano for Ginastera’s Pampeana No. 1, Rhapsody, Op. 16. 

Bartók’s piece in the second half included Robie and Solomon on piano, with North Carolina Symphony’s Colin Hartnett and Rajesh Prasad on percussion.

In his brief remarks, DiEugenio mentioned that both composers shared an interest in folkloric music with Bartók. He went on to say that the compositions are from an era when romanticism was interrupted.     

Janáček composed his in 1914, and Ginastera composed his in 1947, during and in the aftermath of the two world wars. Bartók’s came in 1937, and all three share the same early–to–mid–20th–century concerns.

The program – Part I

All photos and composites by Pamir Kiciman

Czech composer Janáček began in a relatively traditional romantic style and later absorbed elements of Moravian and Slovak folk music. 

He introduced the idea that music can speak — that musical notes can record human speech, and therefore mood or mental state. 

This was noticeable in DiEugenio’s (violin) and Robie’s (piano) precise and passionate performance of Janáček’s Violin Sonata, where, in parts, it was as though the two instruments were in actual conversation, not only musical interaction. 

The composition has a strong emotional core expressed with compressed intensity. Short, urgent lines and abrupt contrasts mimic speech, and melodies are shaped like spoken language. It is inward, restless, and psychological.

Argentinian composer Ginastera often finds a gauchesque expression, a tradition that’s centered on the figure of the landless, wandering gaucho (cowboy) with a guitar.

Using gaucho rhythms and the piano in a percussive manner, his Pampeana No. 1 is physical and spacious, evoking the Argentine pampas (pampeana, in the title). It depicts open space, solitude, and motion.

DiEugenio and Solomon perform and record together, and this was evident in their sensitive interaction. In some parts, the piano is silent, but then Solomon would come in like a rhythmic engine, with the piano evoking hoofbeats or drum patterns.

At times, both instruments impart a sense of the guitar. DiEugenio’s violin expertly alternated between lyrical, sustained lines and sharply articulated moments, putting his whole body behind the playing.   

Part II

Immediately striking in Béla Bartók’s Sonata for Two Pianos and Percussion, Sz. 110 is the instrumentation: two pianos and two percussionists (timpani, xylophone, bass drum, cymbals, triangle, side drum). 

In his remarks, Robie characterized the piece as a “percussion quartet” in three movements. The first is expansive with challenging metric and tempo changes. The second is reminiscent of Bartók’s night music style: eerie, quiet, and alive with imitations of creatures and natural sounds. And the third, a rondo-like ending that is playful. 

The composition is taut and visceral. The rhythm is shared between the instruments. There’s a balance of menace, playfulness, and rigor, with momentum and cool lyricism. 

The two pianos function as equal partners, with leadership constantly shifting among the ensemble, including the percussion. 

Hartnett and Prasad were intent on their performances, concentrating on the timings and intricacies of the percussive instruments, playing with precision and nuance, even in the loudness of their sounds.   

It is worth noting that the acoustics in Moeser Auditorium make for an excellent listening experience, requiring only minimal microphones.

Though drawn from different cultures, the three composers share a modernist impulse grounded in vernacular (folk) sources. 

Janáček distils speech patterns into musical gestures. 

Ginastera evokes an entire landscape.

And Bartók redefines the instrumentation of chamber music with his unsentimental yet deeply human composition. 

The three pieces share compositional similarities in having sections of uneasiness or danger that approach atonality, but never fully embrace it, using dissonance to build atmosphere and draw the listener’s attention. There’s also a mechanical and mechanistic quality to the music. These shared elements are balanced by sections of music that are lyrical without being too precious, almost as if the composers are reminding us of our better angels.  

For the remaining programming in the UNC Department of Music’s concert series, visit this link and follow the links on the left of the page. There is also an overview of the season in TLR’s preview.

Pamir Kiciman is an artist who writes about a range of the arts and the creative process. This reporter can be reached at: Information@TheLocalReporter.press.