All the Mountain King’s Men

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Grieg: Peer Gynt (Incidental Music)

Oiven Fjeldstad / London Symphony Orchestra

London CS6049

Slay him! The Christian man’s son has seduced
the fairest maid of the Mountain King!
Slay him! Slay him!

May I hack him on the fingers?
May I tug him by the hair?
Hu, hey, let me bite him in the haunches!
Shall he be boiled into broth and bree to me

Shall he roast on a spit or be browned in a stewpan?
Ice to your blood, friends!

-Lyrics to “In the Hall of the Mountain King”


Everybody has heard “In the Hall of the Mountain King” somewhere or another. The whole Suite was riffed by Duke Ellington in 1960. Nero & The Gladiators charted at number 48 with their version of the Mountain King. Nineteen sixty-seven brought a new version by The Who (“A Who-freakout arrangement” said one reviewer), which was followed by Electric Light Orchestra’s 1973 rendition; various metal bands have also jumped on the Mountain King bandwagon. Cinematically, it’s been used in Birth of Nation and Fritz Lang’s atmospheric M, along with such disparate places as The Social Network (the rowing scene with the Winklevoss twins), and even in Trolls. Even Mad Men has used the piece. Alton Towers, a British theme park, has Mountain King in their promotional videos.

Along with several other suites from Peer Gynt, In the Hall of the Mountain King permeates pop culture perhaps even more than the big hits of Beethoven, Mozart or Wagner. Grieg was commissioned to do the music for Henrik Ibsen’s play of the same name. The play follows that well-known commoner-abducts-a-bride-on-her-wedding-night-and-abandons-her-so-he-can-travel-the-world trope, and because of the sordidness of the work, Grieg was at first reluctant to set it to music.

He finished the incidental music in 1875 while vacationing in Italy. The play was staged in 1876 in Oslo; it was an opulent production, with Grieg himself conducting the local orchestra. He then re-orchestrated the music again in 1885, and the play had a revival in 1902. In a final version from 1908 based on new material, Grieg once more retrofitted the work: now it comprised 23 individual pieces and lasted for about an hour and a half, replete with soloists and a chorus.

Because of its length, that version is rarely performed in its entirety, and instead the work was arranged into 2 suites, with the most popular pieces among them. And how popular they are. Not one to short-shrift his audience on ear-worm melodies without a ton of depth (he’s like Saint-Saens in a colder climate), Grieg’s Peer Gynt Suites are like metonymies of classical music itself to a lot of people who don’t otherwise listen to classical music.  There’s “Anitra’s Dance” for strings, and “Morning” which, by my count, has appeared at the beginning of every Loony Tunes short out there.

And finally the big number: “In the Hall of the Mountain King”, referred to above in its many contemporary iterations. Basically, it’s a brief, simple theme in F major repeated faster and faster, in ever increasing volume, a la Bolero, until it reaches it’s ear-splitting, rambunctious zenith.

An early London reissue, this Stereophonic release has an unabashedly campy sleeve design. The anti-hero sits lounging in what appears to be the getup of some Swiss yodeler. Standing on a pedestal facing him, a blond Salome-type bombshell is attempting to charm him with her whiles, or so it would seem.

Roots

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Dvorak: Symphony No. 4 (8)

(with Scherzo Capriccioso)

Istvan Kertesz / The London Symphony Orchestra

London CS6358

Breughel and Antonin Dvorak go together like lager and pretzels. There’s a shared boisterousness about them, a sense of carnival goings-on and village revelries and that particular melancholy felt in summer fields at dusk. Dvorak was raised about 20 miles outside of Prague in what, for all intents and purposes, might as well have been a Breughel painting. Early on he got his license to be a butcher (now known to be a forgery!), and played violin for various communal events.

His 8th Symphony bursts with folk melodies and surprising key shifts. Within its first movement a cornucopia of alternating themes bustle along tidily. This is definitely one symphony that deserves the appellation of “pastoral, with barreling good nature in the allegretto grazioso and plangent strains in the adagio, which is loosely modeled on Beethoven’s “Eroica” Symphony.

Close in structure to his forthcoming “New World” Symphony, the 8th is full of warmth and nostalgia, until the propulsive final bars that are pure joviality. Announced with a galloping trumpet fanfare that slides down the scale–an invitation to dance rather a Germanic call to arms, as Rafael Kubelik described it–for the huge onrushing climax.

It’s arguably one of the tightest, most listenable symphonies in existence. And under Kertesz’s direction, the LSO gives a colorful, gregarious and overall exceptional performance.