On April 6th, after 7 hours of studying molecular genetics in the basement of IKB, I decided to give myself a break by strolling over to the Chan for UBC Orchestra’s final concert of the year. The first half included Igor Stravinsky’s Funeral Song, followed by Benjamin Britten’s Les Illuminations, with soprano D’Arcy Blunston singing the surrealist text by Arthur Rimbaud. I could gush over these two pieces forever, but I must talk about the second half, devoted to Hector Berlioz’s Symphonie Fantastique. I can’t exactly say why this piece affected me so strongly, but I feel completely inspired, so bear with me for this one.
In the first movement, titled “Rêveries”, the music speaks of meeting, or even just catching sight of, someone truly enchanting for the first time. Whether on stage reciting Shakespeare, or across a dancefloor, or even sitting across from you on the bus, the overactive imagination begins to envision the life that you and that one person could lead. You only get a glimpse of this person but somehow, against your own will, your mind shows you all the ups and downs of this imaginary future together, the adventures, the arguments, the heartbreaks. Like this first movement, it becomes is an overture to what the future could hold. Perhaps summoned by a simple melody played first by violins, it keeps popping into your head when at work, or in a lecture, or when you see that person once again across a ballroom. This idée fixe keeps reminding you, the hero of this symphony, of that special someone, whether you like it or not.
In movement two, “Un bal”, the scene is set by a triple meter and a light, joyful melody. As the lower strings pluck, you can feel yourself waltzing around a Parisian ballroom, and then that idée fixe suddenly returns. That special someone has just walked in, and you have spotted each other across the room, through the mass of dancing couples.
“Scène aux champs”, or in English, “Scene in the fields”, evokes the bliss of settling into a relationship. Starting with a light-hearted solo from an oboist, the movement flows like wind through a grassy field, and feels as if the composer was imagining him and his special someone as an older couple settling down on the countryside. Near the end of the movement the timpani rumble, alternating with that oboe solo, but getting louder and more ominous each time. Is this just a storm rolling over this country field, or is it foreshadowing what’s to come for this couple?
“Marche au supplice” (March to the scaffolds) is driven by a steady beat – a march – accompanied by military fanfare from the brass. Though we never covered it in class, it is one of the most recognizable movements of this symphony. You can imagine that with each crash of the symbols, our hero watches as prisoner after prisoner meets his end at the guillotine. His footsteps fall heavy as he walks up the wooden steps to the platform above. Suddenly, all other sound fades away. Our hero’s lover appears in the crowd, along with that enchanting idée fixe. One can imagine she gives our hero one last, comforting smile, right before… CRASH!
Once in the afterlife, our hero dreams up a ritual in “Songe d’une nuit du sabbat”. Unnaturally high-sounding winds seem to mock the waltz of the second movement. Violins screech and make unnatural sounds by hitting bows against strings. Amidst all this sacrilegious chaos, chimes break through. Are these church bells, perhaps ringing out at our hero’s funeral? One hopes they bring our hero some comfort, though it seems more likely that they are there to torment him.
As someone who is more familiar with vocal music, the symphony tends to involve working harder to connect with the music. It might be because we have already discussed this work in class, or because Berlioz succeeded in getting exactly what he wanted with this piece, but I found it so completely moving that I forgot all about my upcoming molecular genetics final. It was a truly fantastic end to a semester of fabulous music.