Erik Bergman (1911-2006) came a long way as a composer, on a road lined with new phenomena. In the 1950s he was one of the leaders of Finnish modernism in his use of dodecaphony and later, in a few works, serialism. He is, however, best known for the fantastic style – rich in colour and often making use of limited aleatory – which he arrived at in the first half of the 1970s. He served as a model for many Finnish modernists of subsequent generations, though admittedly more as a tireless musical explorer than as the advocate of a particular style; for that the music of Bergman seems too self-reliant and individualistic.
Bergman travelled widely in his art, both in time and space. In time he journeyed back to, for example, ancient Egypt, old Finnish incantations and medieval church music. In place he roamed from Lapland to the Mediterranean and from Europe to the Far East, drawing on a myriad cultures to create an idiolect ranging from delicate, fragile lyricism to primitive force, and from Oriental death mysticism to liberating humour.
Vocal music, especially for choir, occupies a central position in Bergman’s prolific output. With a long career as a choir leader behind him, he knew just how far the limits of vocal expression can be stretched. His thirst for adventure was, however, just as strong in his orchestral, chamber and solo instrumental works. The culmination of his entire output was the opera Det sjungande trädet (The Singing Tree, 1986–88).
The youthful works
of the 1930s and early 1940s are still romantic in style, and Bergman prohibited the performance of many of them. Towards the end of the 1940s his idiom became more chromatic. Despite its chromaticism, the neoclassical and at times Bartók-like orchestral scherzo Burla (1948) is still anchored on B minor, but Intervalles (1949) for piano is already atonal. The next two piano works, the Sonatina (1950) and Espressivo (1952), continue in an increasingly chromatic vein. The latter was Bergman’s first dodecaphonic work, though he himself called it a mere “attempt at dodecaphony”.
One of Bergman’s breakthrough works was Rubaiyat (1953) for baritone, male choir and orchestra. While not dodecaphonic, it did in many respects point the way to his future interests. These included the lure of the Orient in the words of Omar Khayyam, elements of Arabic music in the melodies, rhythms and widespread use of percussion instruments, and the scoring for soloist(s), choir and orchestra characteristic of his most colourful works.
The dodecaphonic period proper began with the Three Fantasies for clarinet and piano of 1954. Later that year Bergman travelled to Ascona in Switzerland to study 12-note technique with Wladimir Vogel. His first dodecaphonic orchestral work was Tre aspetti d’una serie dodecafonica (1957), in which the attention is caught by the beautiful, translucent orchestration. The next, almost neoimpressionistic, orchestral work, Aubade (1958), is likewise painted in delicate shades and the row technique is in places applied not only to the pitches but to the rhythms as well. The work pressing furthest along the serialist road is Simbolo (1960) for orchestra, in which the row from time to time serves as a model for both the rhythms and the dynamics. Outwardly Simbolo is more ascetic than the earlier orchestral works. A similar mode of expression is to be found in the Concertino da camera (1961).
The choral works
by Erik Bergman also reveal a move away from the late Romantic era to dodecaphony. Twelve-note technique is present in the Adagio for male choir, baritone, flute and vibraphone (1957). Modernist techniques of composition are combined with a text plucked from the distant past in Aton for baritone, speaker, choir and orchestra (1959) based on Echnaton’s famous Hymn to the Sun and Sela for baritone, chorus and orchestra (1962), which is a setting of texts from the psalms. The Drei Galgenlieder (1959) and Vier Galgenlieder (1960) inspired by the poetry of Christian Morgenstern in turn demonstrate Bergman’ ability to abandon himself to absurd humour using such devices as speech-song.
Sela is usually said to mark the end of Bergman’s dodecaphonic period, but his idiom continued to be founded on the rich use of chromaticism. The 1960s were in a way a long transition towards the new stylistic period beginning in the 1970s. This transition was dominated by vocal works using the most varied of subjects and scorings. Examples are Fåglarna (The Birds, 1962) – a setting of a poem by his wife, Solveig von Schoultz – Nox (1970), Requiem över en död diktare (Requiem for a Dead Poet, 1970), Missa in honorem Sancti Henrici (1971) in medieval mood, Samonthrake (1971) with its dramatic element, and the Hathor Suite (1971) drawing on ancient Egyptian texts. The only orchestral work of this period is Circulus (1965).
The next stylistic era
finally erupted with Colori ed improvvisazioni for orchestra (1973). The very title suggests the focal elements: rich colours or timbres and the use of improvisation, manifest in the use of limited aleatory. A glance at the score shows that bar lines have been abandoned in the middle of the first movement. From then onwards Bergman used only time-space notation, giving the time in seconds required to play a section instead of precise note lengths. Fleeting, often incantation-like motifs, growing crescendos, allusive rhythms and webs of trills and tremolos are among the hallmarks of this new stylistic era. Meanwhile, the ecstatic outbursts are offset by ethereal exercises in timbre bordering on silence.
Among the most significant compositions by Bergman in the 1970s are two large-scale vocal works. Bardo Thödol for speaker, mezzo-soprano, baritone, choir and orchestra (1974) is based on the Tibetan Book of the Dead. Many of his works use exotic instruments brought home from his travels; in Bardo Thödol he uses a Tibetan shell trumpet, rattle drum, hand bells and little ritual cymbals. The other great vocal work of the 1970s is Noa for baritone, choir and orchestra (1976) based on the ancient myth of the Flood. Bergman’s later vocal works include Lemminkäinen, his first work using a theme from the national epic, the Kalevala, for speaker, mezzo-soprano, baritone and choir (1984). He has also written works for solo voice, such as Triumf att finnas till (The Triumph of Being Here, 1978) for soprano, flute and percussion, and Lament and Incantation (1985) for soprano and cello.
Representing the new stylistic era in the orchestral sector were the sensory tone pictures inspired by the northern countryside Arctica (1979, a sister work to Lapponia (1975) previously composed for choir, and Bergman’s biggest and most powerful orchestral work Ananke (1982). In the late 1970s Bergman turned his attention to two genres previously somewhat overlooked; the concerto and chamber music. Concertos were to be a brief but intensive period exploring the potential of four solo instruments, all different: Dualis for cello and orchestra (1978), Birds in the Morning for flute and orchestra (1979), a piano concerto (1980-81) and a violin concerto (1982). Not until the 1990s did Bergman return to works for a solo instrument, in The Maestro and his Orchestra (1996) for violin and strings, Cadenza (1996) for oboe and orchestra and cello concerto (1998).
Having composed Solfatara
(1977) for saxophone and percussion, chamber music was, by contrast, to hold a lasting place in Bergman’s affections. The name Silence and Eruptions (1979) is characteristic not only of his chamber music but of his music in general. In his chamber music he has untiringly experimented with unusual combinations of instruments and the timbres and shades of tone they afford. He did not as a rule revert to a combination of instruments already tested, apart from the string quartet, for which he composed two works (1982, 1997), the latter headed Musica concertante.
The work acting as something of a synthesis of everything Bergman has ever written is the opera Det sjungande trädet (The Singing Tree, 1986–88). The libretto by Bo Carpelan is based on the Swedish folktale Prins Hatt under jorden, which is in turn founded on the ancient myth of Amor and Psyche. The choice of a fairytale theme could not be more appropriate for Bergman’s resplendent style, and he certainly makes rich use of the potential inherent in his soloists, chorus, orchestra, and individual instruments. The opera is, furthermore, melodic and expressive, and possibly because of the enhanced role of melody, Bergman reverts to bar line notation.
Since Det sjungande trädet Bergman has again immersed himself in orchestral, chamber and vocal music. His orchestral works have included Tutti e soli (1989), Sub luna (1990) and Poseidon (1992), while in his chamber music he has continued experimenting with various instrumental combinations. His style changed little in the 1990s, though he tended to broaden out into even more expressionistic melody. Proof of this are such works as The Maestro and his Orchestra for violin and string orchestra, and Preisungen (1996) for soprano, baritone, choir and orchestra. In other respects Preisungen displays Bergman in more reserved, pensive mood than many of his earlier works for similar line-ups.
Translation © Susan Sinisalo