If clothes make the man, then in Boccherini's case it was above all, time and again, his notes. But it can, thanks to this musicological-iconographic quest, be both. For an 18th-century composer and his wig are like 'Henk and Ingrid' or 'Jan with the cap'. Or perhaps even like… María and Luigi? In any case, conductor Dick van Gasteren demonstrates it in this work in an exemplary and especially highly accessible manner. By means of prints, such as a 'family portrait' in which Boccherini also appears neatly dressed. And of course, above all, by thoroughly examining a series of images. For a facsimile of the autograph of the string quintet that Luigi titled La Musica Notturna delle Strade di Madrid simply could not be missing as an appendix to this publication.
[caption id="attachment_50372" align="alignleft" width="300"]
© Lisanne Hoogerwerf[/caption]
The primary source of this book is thus fully reproduced at the very end. It is the score of 'La Musica Notturna delle Strade di Madrid' by Luigi Boccherini (1743-1805), one of his rare string quintets for two violins, one viola and a pair of cellos with a nickname. Although such an epithet is actually a good sign, Boccherini himself must have been somewhat surprised that his string quintet in C major was published in Berlin in 1822 at all. For in an accompanying letter, our Italian composer had already impressed upon the Paris publisher Pleyel in 1797 that 'La Musica Notturna' was a completely "useless" piece of music that outside Spain would only make a "ridiculous", even meaningless impression. Meaningless for us, the listener, but at the same time also truthful? On the title page of the score itself, Boccherini also mentioned a "truth" that this very music would express. These are striking and even contradictory instructions that piqued the curiosity of Dick van Gasteren. The conductor of
, therefore spent 126 pages diving into Madrid's nightlife. In search, then, of the 'Verítà' in, and especially also about Boccherini's 'Notturna'.'Mortal beloved'
Personal testimony or socio-political message? This is both the subtitle and the research question of this genuine detective story. Spoiler alert: forget about politics for now, everything is more than ever eroticism, love and sexual attraction. Also in 1780, when Boccherini wrote his seven-part 'Musica Notturna'? Indeed, it is even abundantly clear, and van Gasteren also points it out convincingly. Thus the cello quintet begins with an explicit ode to María (parts 1 and 2), who is subsequently courted in an equally confident and restrained manner (parts 3 and 4), only to be truly conquered in the end (parts 5 to 7). The author even manages to give Boccherini's 'mortal beloved' a name: María del Rosario Fernández Ramos (1755-1803), "an 'Alma Mahler' of the 18th century" (p. 91), and at the time a famous actress and singer in Madrid's theater world. It is therefore no accident that the seduction game in part 4 takes place in a rose garden ('Il Rosarío'). Thus the matter is largely settled, although van Gasteren does make a remarkable twist in the conclusion by still criticizing this hypothesis. Instead of singing Madrid, it sounds (p. 108): "[…] that the work should be understood as a personal testimony or serenade to María is difficult to reconcile with Boccherini's letter to Pleyel that 'the public outside Spain will never understand the meaning of the piece'." If it really were a declaration of love, then "one should certainly be able to understand that outside Spain." Does van Gasteren not overestimate general musical knowledge here, both in bygone centuries and today? Not everyone could/can read notes as well as he does, or readily understand the possible messages that might be hidden between them. And what is more: is the fame of María del Rosario, especially outside Spain, not presented far too optimistically in this way? Who would suspect such an intimate confession of the composer in this remarkable suite, let alone, on the first – or second – hearing, Boccherini's heartfelt cry toward his muse María? For love is not only an eye disease, as the 'Minuetto dei Chiechi' (the 'Minuet of the blind', part 3) from 'La Musica Notturna' testifies, but all too often also makes deaf.
[embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cda0WCBvYlw&list=OLAK5uy_kTh0u1tj-9TzO_Fcwc8TGMLrZxWDGYzwA&index=4[/embed]
Red ears
Music is always in relation to society and can also fulfil a current function in that sense. 'La Musica Notturna' proves to be no exception in this regard, as the potential presence of such a socio-political message is sufficiently demonstrated, contextualized and deepened by van Gasteren. Central to this thesis is the conformist cultural policy of the Spanish king Carlos III (1716-1788) and his acolytes, la Junta de teatros Madrileña. With the staged tonadilla as exponent, and whether it was theatre, dance or music: everything that deviated from the line in the court theatres was increasingly viewed with suspicion in the second half of the 18th century. Moreover, a purity of doctrine also reigned in ecclesiastical life and the processions associated with it, which in turn had repercussions on the carnivalesque atmosphere in which these processions usually took place. Add to that rising food prices and the French straitjacket that forced 'the common Man(uel)' to submit, and the result is an explosive cocktail that led to a capital uprising in 1766. In 1770, Boccherini enters the service of Don Luis Antonio (1727-1785), the brother of Carlos, as 'violoncelliste de sa chambre et compositeur de musique'. A privileged position in the entourage of the infante that could offer him both financial and considerable artistic protection. Enough to subversively challenge the cultural marching orders of the king and his retinue? Absolutely, artistic freedom was – and is to this day – a valuable asset. Pamphleteer Boccherini protested with his 'La Musica Notturna' in other words both for himself and for all Madrid colleagues who wanted to continue earning their living on that basis. The work of María del Rosario belonged to this, but equally so that of Luis Misón (1727-1776) – composer and founder of the popular tonadilla – and painter Francisco Goya (1746-1828) – from the 1780s onwards also in the service of the Spanish court.
[caption id="attachment_50373" align="alignleft" width="300"]
© David Prins[/caption]
Luigi Boccherini's sixtieth string quintet is a short, special and far from "useless" piece of music: the occasion for the enthusiastic and remarkable detective work with which Dick van Gasteren has managed to satisfy his musical curiosity in an accessible and generally followable manner. Not every one of the numerous informative insertions in the book reveals its source(s) equally well (e.g. the insertions on pp. 18, 21, 72, 100 and 105), but the late Anner Bijlsma (1934-2019), the renowned Dutch cellist to whom this whodunit is dedicated, would probably have been less bothered by that. For instead of wanting to split hairs like this, the gently impassioned way in which van Gasteren has shed light on his subject remains paramount. In G major, that is: the same key in which the court-making ('Il Rosarío') and then the beginning of the intercourse ('Passa calle') from 'La Musica Notturna' are set.
"It is particularly difficult to discern how the abstract language of music relates to historical reality", van Gasteren concludes (p. 109), but he has succeeded in doing so with considerable brilliance. The more the author dares to dream within the boundaries of this symbolic score, the more it reveals its veiled secrets. Blessed. No one can listen to Boccherini's jewel without red ears after this reading.
WHAT: 'La Musica Notturna delle Strade di Madrid' by Luigi Boccherini. Personal testimony or socio-political message?
WHO: Dick van Gasteren, conductor and artistic director of Ciconia Consort
PUBLISHER: uitgeverij PROMINENT
ISBN: 978-94-92395-39-9 – 126 pages, supplemented with the facsimile of the score