THE DOUBLE BASS AS ALTER EGO OF ROMANTIC UNEASINESS
[by Renzo Cresti]

This cd pays due homage to a composer who was one of the protagonists in the Darmstadt of the Seventies. That was a time when contemporary music experimented on interpretation techniques with such an in depth analysis as to deserve to be named the New Instrumental Renaissance(1). Although, today, standardization is a recurrent problem, choosing to present Grillo’s music means going against the homogenization of music theory and practice. No doubt, he was an eccentric virtuoso both in the way he dealt with the new sounds of his own instrument and with composition itself. Gifted with an analytical mind, he could write interesting and very personal scores like Œuvre I-VI (1975-80) for double bass and orchestra, the theatrical work Dualitas feminitas (1981) and other chamber compositions and performances, where his uncommon curiosity and experimental solutions give life to unique sound landscapes. The pieces included in this cd clearly define the poetics and the music conception of this outstanding double bass player who possessed a creativity reaching beyond his instrument.

The solo viola Der Seele Erdengang (1979-80), a masterpiece whose overwhelming intensity plunges deep into the mystery of being, somehow hints at both Scelsi’s and Spectral Music’s idea of composition. A hidden song runs all through the piece, concealed by vehement bow strokes, ruinous falls and vigorous jumps. The piece shows an extraordinary attention to the dynamics, the attack and timbre of each sound, and a yearning desire to sing. It is beautifully interpreted by Maurizio Barbetti of whom, in September 2005, Grillo wrote: «Sound of awakening, of an indefinite transparency where darkness and light mingle in the moment of perception: Maurizio Barbetti’s viola. It is the Poetry of the soul expressed through sound».

Das Mädchen und der Zauber (1978-79), the oldest piece in this collection, is dedicated to the great guitarist Gunter Schneider who has written the instrumental version (and has personally sent it to Francesco Cuoghi). As Cuoghi himself underlines, the Spectral Music panorama is a bit overcrowded, lots of composers have been included in it, many of whom produced open works (as defined by Umberto Eco). Open scores, in order to be completed, require improvisation on the part of the interpreter like, for example, Radulescu’s guitar piece Subconscious Wave. On the contrary, Grillo’s connection to Spectral Music is expressed through «over-detailed scores, almost impossible to perform, that truly highlight the physicality of the sounds» (Cuoghi). Isolated sounds evoke distant worlds, the writing and performing techniques(2) are aimed at the quest for the heart of sound, through a slightly obstinate repetition that contributes to create a sort of hypnotic sound. The interpreter and the listener must plunge into it and free themselves from technical preoccupations, as Francesco Cuoghi does so very well. One must let himself be caught by a sound that flies, it does not matter whether high up or low down, but whirling around in a tormented spirituality.

In the viola and double bass version of Innoxia floret (1997), the instruments produce sounds that at times mingle and other times alternate echoing the harmonics. There are sounds emerging from silence and powerful bow strokes. Everything is born out of vigorous gestures always pushed to the extreme limit. It is no surprise that Grillo made frequent reference to The Praise of Folly by Erasmus of Rotterdam, he was also among the interpreters of the homonymous film by Roberto Aguerre. Folly means to stay deliberately at a distance from ordinary common sense. It is an eccentricity that literally exceeds the established centre, a kind of exaltation without which true art cannot exist because it requires, as Plato would put it, the fire of the Muses. The two interpreters are perfectly attuned to each other, which is the only way to perform this overpowering folly.

The majestic Suite I (1983-2005) has a fundamental significance within the context of double bass composition that places technique at the service of poetics. Very significantly, there are all together almost 25 pages of explanatory notes. The attention given to both the graphic and the semiographic aspects allows this important work, ‘baroque’ in some aspects, to be considered a milestone not just of double bass composition but more in general of the contemporary music panorama of the time(3). The movements are those we would find in a traditional suite: Prelude (the root of the whole piece) – Allemande (the most structured) – Courante (of a certain timbric fascination) – Sarabanda (very powerful) – Gavotte – Gigue (the shortest). Also the rhythmic aspect draws inspiration directly from the original forms, however, it ends up being reshaped by an incessant series of audacious passages all derived from an innovative gesture: this past is so far away that it becomes present. It is precisely from gesture that the music springs, and it seems to go deep down towards a void, at the stroke of midnight, when even shadows make you quiver. The writing is like a kind of seismogram, it shows that the six parts of the piece are truly built on gestures. The restlessness is conveyed through technical and performing elements that are undoubtedly groundbreaking in terms of instrumental research. The visual aspect, too, was fundamental in Grillo’s concerts and it made him produce performances where the listening process is influenced by the feelings stirred up by light effects. The flashes are produced by the bow like sudden gleams generated by unconventional movements of prodigious hands, they flash from the instrument’s body when it is held tight, clasped or moved away till it is laid on the floor: the double bass as alter ego of emotional torment. After all, Grillo was truly a cursed Romantic.

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(1) «Fernando Grillo has been forgotten, and yet he was a star in the contemporary music world of the Seventies and Eighties. After winning the Gaudeamus Interpreters Competition in the Netherlands, he received the Kranichsteiner Musikpreis, the maximum award from Darmstadt where, immediately after, he got an appointment as double bass professor, a prestigious position that he held for twenty years. Unsurpraisingly, Xenakis composed his famous piece Therpas precisely for him, and Stockhausen defined him “the Buddha of double bass”. Yet he has been forgotten. He did not belong to the music Establishment. He had no power. Wanting to be free may be deadly». (Maurizio Barbetti)

(2) The score is developed on three staves. The performer is asked to keep the sound homogeneous, to let the string vibrate, to either increase the amplitude or send forth sudden sounds, to produce either soft or metallic sounds. Finally, there is an instruction that recalls Scelsi’s circle: “make a circular movement with your hand following the central circle (O) of the harmonic plane wave, modify the timbre.” Cuoghi says: «I have tried to generate the harmonics in the best possible way, using the most suitable method (with two hands while Grillo suggests using just one). As regards the harmonics, I have employed various techniques to make them flash. In fact, I have tried to put into practice what he calls ‘sudden burst of light and sound,’ referring to a completely different idea of the legato guitar technique (the string is pulled upwards instead of sideways – as the technique normally requires). […] I have insisted on the intense vibrato of long notes, on the dynamics and timbre. »

(3) Francioni, an extraordinary interpreter, tells how Suite I, dedicated to “Enrico my best student”, was born in the summer of 1982, at the time of the Interpretation Courses in Città di Castello (Perugia, Italy). First of all, Grillo wrote the Prelude, which was performed by Francioni at the Accademia Pescarese (Sambuceto, Italy) in 1986: «In just a few months Fernando sent me all the other movements (one every month approximately): the Allemande, the Courante, the Sarabande, the Gavotte I/II and finally the Gigue. Within nearly a year, he had completed the first version of the whole Suite I. I performed the various movements separately on different occasions: performance courses, concerts, lessons, courses… The first performance of what is known as the 1983 version took place in October 1988 in Florence (Italy). […] In the meantime, Fernando incessantly polished, modified, verified, removed and added. In other words, he was trying to get to the final version of this majestic work: more than 40 minutes of music (without refrains!). […] The final publication came as late as 2005 (Edition Schott).» (Enrico Francioni)