Scared and profane

Amal Choucri Catta on a controversial programme

---

Johannes

Cairo Symphony Orchestra, cond Johannes Wildner, Haydn, Symphony 92, Bloch, Schelomo for cello and orchestra, soloist Ayman El-Hanbouli, Richard Strauss, A hero's life, Main Hall, Cairo Opera House, 12 June, 9pm

Egyptians tend to be a forgiving, peace-loving kind of people, ready to welcome the unwelcome and to accept the unacceptable in order to show good will. Last Saturday, such peaceful inclinations were once again demonstrated during Cairo Symphony Orchestra's concert in the Main Hall of Cairo Opera House under the baton of Austrian guest conductor Johannes Wildner, who has already appeared before Cairene audiences on two different occasions.

The concert was preceded by some controversy over Ernest Bloch's rhapsody for cello and orchestra, Schelomo, the Hebrew name for Solomon, which was to be performed with Egyptian soloist Ayman El-Hanbouli. The entire rhapsody, according to the composer himself, is of pure Judaic inspiration, in the spiritual-mythical sense, relative to Jewish doctrines and rites as enjoined in the laws of Moses. The work is furthermore based on the Old Testament Book of Ecclesiastes, authorship of which is attributed to Solomon.

Ernest Bloch, who was born in Geneva in 1880 and who died in Oregon in 1959, dedicated over 50 years of his life to Judaic compositions, creating the Israel Symphony, followed by Three Jewish Poems, Voice in the Wilderness and Baal Shem, subtitled Three pictures of Chassidic Life, inspired by Baal Shem Tov, the "Master of the Good Name" who founded the Jewish sect of the Chassidim in the 17th century. The three movements of the work are: Vidui, Contrition, Nigun, Improvisation and Simchas Torah, Rejoicing of the Judaic Law. Bloch also composed the Suite Hebraique and Avodath Hakodesh, Sacred Service, a setting of the Jewish Sabbath morning service used after 1934 in Reform Synagogues, as well as King David's Psalm 22, to mention a few of the more Judaic of Bloch's compositions.

It was in 1916, just before Bloch left for the United States, that he met cellist Alexander Barjansky in the latter's home in Switzerland. There he was amazed by a sculpture of King Solomon created by the cellist's wife, Catherine Barjansky. That was the inspiration for Schelomo, which Bloch composed in Geneva, dedicating it to Barjansky. Musically, it is a mystical, meditative work with great climaxes and a particularly glorious Solomon, personified by the cello, which opens the rhapsody in a recitative, declamatory form, proceeding to a tender, melancholic monologue, before invoking violent passions and ardent desires inspired by Solomon's Song of Songs. It is an intricate, rather perplexing piece of music virtuoso cellists enjoy. Schelomo is, furthermore, no newcomer to the Main Hall, Cairo Symphony having already performed the rhapsody a couple of years ago, with the same cellist as soloist. At the time many condemned the performance, stating that it was neither the right time nor the right place for the promotion of Judaic music, while others maintained that the arts in general and music in particular belong to the whole world and that we should remain open to all kinds of music, whatever its origin or tendencies.

Cairo Symphony and Opera Orchestras often perform works by Jewish composers -- Mendelssohn, Mahler, Schoenberg, Darius Milhaud, Egene Ysayue and Leonard Bernstein to name but a few -- and the opera house has welcomed Jewish musicians such as Yehudi Menuhin more than once. There is, however, a difference between interpreting works of Jewish composers, a fact about which no one ever complained, and promoting Judaic music, which is refused by most. After all, Tel Aviv's R Mann auditorium, which seats over four thousand and is home to the Israel Philharmonic Orchestra, is not likely to promote a concert of Islamic music -- inshad dini -- in its halls. Similarly the Cairo Opera House should not host a concert of spiritual Judaic music.

The heated arguments that followed the concert a couple of years ago subsided, and everyone thought we were rid of Bloch. It seems, however, that in cellist Ayman El-Hanbouli's rather scanty repertoire Schelomo occupies a dominant place: he once again proposed the rhapsody for last Saturday's concert. This came as a surprise. Many expected Cairo Opera House to ask for other choices. But Cairo Opera did nothing of the sort and the audience applauded Ayman El-Hanbouli, maintaining nevertheless that this was pushing Judaic promotion too far at a most inopportune time. Hopefully Cairo Opera House will be more circumspect with regard to the choice of musical and other programmes in the future.

Saturday night's concert opened with Franz Joseph Haydn's Oxford Symphony No.92 in G-major, thus nicknamed because it was performed when the composer was awarded an honorary doctorate from Oxford University in 1791. The composition itself, however, dates from 1789.

Haydn was a reserved person, keeping to himself while in England. He did not know the language sufficiently well and had he been obliged to deliver a speech he would have been at a loss. His image belies a complex personality and a genius still being re-discovered. Like Mozart and one or two others, Haydn fell in love with a woman he was not allowed to marry. Her name was Therese Keller and she was forced into a convent. At the age of 28 he married her sister Maria instead. They did not get on, though they stayed together and quite publicly enjoyed the benefits of what is now known as an "open marriage".

The Oxford Symphony is sometimes compared to a cat: its paws soft in the beginning, it shows its claws towards the end. The four movements were masterfully conducted by Wildner, who started out by telling the audience that music, like football, brings nations together, alluding to Schelomo, which was cause for unease among local listeners that night. Bringing nations together is fine, on condition this happens on their own terms and not on terms dictated by others.

Following Haydn and Bloch, the second part of the concert was dedicated to another demanding work, Richard Strauss's symphonic poem Ein Heldenleben, a hero's life, where the composer unabashedly writes about himself as a creator battling against critics and comforted by his wife. The work is in one movement, internally divided into six sections usually played without pause. The first subject is the hero himself who enters triumphantly before being confronted tutti fortissimi by his adversaries. The second subject, the hero's wife, is beautifully symbolised by the violin solo, while the third subject recounts further battles with new adversaries. The hero nevertheless yearns and works for peace in wonderful orchestral themes. He is finally released from this world. The maestro conducted brilliantly -- he is well acquainted with Richard Strauss. His hero's life deserved the ensuing ovations.