September Tokyo Regular Concert: Yoshio Mamiya's "Violin Concerto"

Yoshio Mamiya: Violin Concerto (Japan Philharmonic Series No. 2)

小沼純一

　While living in the Japanese archipelago, composer Yoshio Mamiya (1929-) has continually explored how to understand and think about Western art music, and how to turn it into works. Born in Asahikawa, Hokkaido, he went on to study at Tokyo University of the Arts under Tomojiro Ikeuchi. In 1953, he formed the Yagi Society with Yuzo Toyama and Hikaru Hayashi. Since 1955, he has taken various approaches, from researching folk songs sung in the Japanese archipelago to creating compositions, including the "Japanese Folk Song Collection."
　It was against this backdrop that he composed his Violin Concerto in 1959. To summarize the text included in the program for the premiere (reprinted below), Mamiya focused on "music with words" connected to linguistic life, and had always wanted to "free music from the specialized confines of modern music" and "have the power to speak to society." However, the composer described the Violin Concerto as a "reaction" to this approach, "the product of discovering that, unlike my previous approach, I had other demands within myself." In that sense, it was undoubtedly an epoch-making work in the history of the composer himself.
　The composer, who originally focused on vocal music, places the violin at the center of this work, which uses complex phrasing and techniques that are different from the so-called folk songs sung by ordinary people. One could say that he is trying to do with Western instruments what cannot be done with the voice, and what goes beyond the voice.
　The whole piece consists of four movements (Prelude-Marcia-Intermezzo-Finale). Although it is a bit long, I will quote the composer's words: "The core of the entire piece is the middle section of the intermezzo in the third movement, where children's songs, which should be sung most vividly and healthily, appear weakly, sadly, and briefly interrupted. The theme of the intermezzo is Hina no Uta (Girls' Song), and it embraces sad, weak children's songs. It is crushed, caught between the seemingly irresistible real world theme of Hina no Uta, and the pressure it places on the categorized Hina no Uta. I am standing outside of this. The prelude and the second half of the finale could be said to be my attitude, so to speak. I want to have the strength to step out of my comfort zone and breathe back the cheerfulness of Hina no Uta, the healthy spirit of children's songs. / This depends on me and on the future of Japanese music."
　The work won the Mainichi Art Award. The composer is 30 years old. This year marks 60 years since its premiere, and Mamiya Yoshio recently celebrated his 90th birthday. How should the words written in the notebook be interpreted by musicians and the music world of this archipelago, 60 years after its premiere?
　Incidentally, Takemitsu Toru's Requiem for Strings premiered in 1957, and Mayuzumi Toshiro's Nirvana Symphony in 1958, and the composer released his second violin concerto in the 1970s. This is a work full of vitality, different from this one, in which the drums play an active role alongside the violin.

From the program for the premiere (16th regular concert, June 24, 1959)

(From left: Concertmaster Broadus Earl, violin soloist Yoko Matsuda, composer Yoshio Mamiya, conductor Akio Watanabe)

On the Violin Concerto

Yoshio Mamiya

　Many composers have attempted to give titles to purely instrumental music, especially to give them a kind of specific term, but this has not always been done with great intention. No one can deny that Berlioz's Symphonie Fantastique is an immortal masterpiece, but I agree with the opinion that the story he himself gave to this piece is completely meaningless compared to the greatness of the music. However, I do not think that it is completely absurd to tell a specific story as an explanation of the content of the music in the case of purely instrumental music, and I think modern composers should give more thought to using such a method, namely words.
　Now, I need to explain why I wanted to give a particular content to my violin concerto.
　Recently, I have felt a strong desire to write music with words (music with words, using vocals and other methods). Simply put, instrumental music alone is unreliable and frustrating, and I have much to say not through sound but through words. I have begun to undertake such work through songs, choruses, operas, and more. By musicalizing the Japanese language, closely resembling its linguistic roots, I hope to free music from the specialized confines of contemporary music, and to empower composers to speak out to society about more concrete issues.
　The Violin Concerto is, so to speak, a reaction to that, a product of the discovery within me of a different demand than my previous attitude. Looking at my life as a whole, I'm not sure whether it's something I should cherish or discard, but at present, it's an attitude I want to discard. The Violin Concerto was accepted by me as a settlement of that attitude, and as such, it has taken on a specific content.
　The core of the piece is the middle section of the third movement's intermezzo, where the nursery rhyme, which should be sung most vividly and healthily, appears weak, sad, and briefly interrupted. The intermezzo's theme is the Hinamatsuri (Girl's Song), and it embraces the sad, frail nursery rhyme. It is crushed, caught between the seemingly irresistible, fragmented Hinamatsuri (Girl's Song) and the laughing, oppressive theme. I stand outside of it. The prelude and the latter half of the finale could be considered my stance. I want to step out of my comfort zone and have the strength to breathe back the cheerfulness of the Hinamatsuri (Girl's Song), the healthy spirit of the nursery rhyme.
　It all depends on the future of me and Japanese music.
　When music has that kind of power, instrumental music will take on a whole new meaning.