Overview
Title: Brutto, ignudo (un tratto per clarinetto basso)
Composer: Sylvano Bussotti (1931-2021)
Composition Year: 1980
Instrument: Bass Clarinet (Low Eb)
Extended Techniques: Flutter tongue (two notes)
Difficulty Level: 5/5
Today’s analysis features a rather wonky gem of the bass clarinet rep: Sylvano Bussotti’s absurdist showpiece, Brutto, ignudo. This is another Harry Sparnaay “commission”, written in 1980 (There sure were a lot of bass clarinet pieces being written in the 80s…)
Sylvano Bussotti (1931-2021) was well situated within the avant-garde camp of the 20th century European musical scene, having studied under experimental composers like Roberto Lupi, Luigi Dallapiccola, and Max Deutsch. He was also acquainted with Pierre Boulez and John Cage. He had a particular flair for theater, founding the Bussotti Opera Ballet company in 1984 and writing many operas and ballets throughout his life. He also directed many opera productions and even had a hand in set and costume design at times. He was also a painter and writer. In short, he was a highly multifaceted individual who had strong roots in the visual arts as well as in music.
Another thing I found interesting: He was openly gay for most of his life, even back in the 1950s when it was rare and potentially dangerous to identify as such. When taken into consideration along with his musical style, I think that really speaks to his character - he comes off as bold and unashamed, and unafraid to express himself.
Analysis
Brutto, ignudo was originally part of a ballet Bussotti wrote called Phaidra/Heliogabalus. I will be frank: I have tried to find details about this ballet and have come up almost completely empty-handed. I can’t find any plot synopsis, recordings, program notes, choreography details, anything! All I know is that it’s in four acts and features several chamber-size pieces, with Brutto, ignudo being the second-to-last. Sparnaay did not commission the ballet - rather, Brutto, ignudo was adapted as a short solo piece for bass clarinet and premiered by him as such on May 2, 1980.
Regarding the title of the ballet, my searches have turned up the following: “Phaidra” is a feminine Greek first name, which means “bright” in English. There’s a princess in Greek mythology named Phaedra (alternate spelling), though I’m not sure if the ballet is about her specifically. Heliogabalus was the name of a Roman emperor who ruled only briefly and apparently became caught up in numerous scandals during his reign. I’m willing to guess that this is a sort of love story like Daphnis and Chloe and that Phaidra and Heliogabalus are original characters and not the figures I just mentioned (I could be wrong but everything I’ve seen so far seems to indicate that).
The title Brutto, ignudo literally translates to “ugly, naked.” So we can already judge that this piece isn’t meant to evoke sublime beauty or catharsis. Instead we have something raw, maybe even a bit shocking. Something that has no illusions about itself, accepts itself for what it is, and bares itself for the world to see, even if the world has no intentions of accepting it. I’m no expert on Bussotti’s life - far from it - but I can’t help but see parallels between his character and that of this piece. He was an openly gay man living in Italy, a heavily Catholic country which still lags behind other Western countries in terms of LGBT+ rights, at a time when being openly gay could cost you your career, if not your life, just about anywhere you went. Like the bass clarinet piece, Bussotti didn’t seem to care about hiding who he was for the sake of pleasing others. He didn’t cover himself up, but did the opposite - he stood before them “naked,” even if others considered him “ugly” for doing so.
Time for the breakdown!
The phrasing and interpretation: Bussotti includes this program note with the score of Brutto, ignudo:
“Something short. It is an unlovable composition; it requires a technique completely unrelated to the current research of breath and multisounds; it should be done with maniacal precision, without any emotion, like an arid study. The crowns [fermatas], which cut the flow of the song five times, are all five the same, but they rest on progressive values: this must be taken into account (even if the penultimate is only a sigh). With the extreme crown your breath will be lost completely.”
(Note: The program note is originally in Italian. I translated it using Google Translate, which isn’t exactly the best resource for this kind of thing. I’ll consult an actual dictionary and see if I can make a better translation later).
Bussotti is pretty straightforward about how he intends for this piece to be played - straight and smooth all the way through, emotionless and immaculately precise. This direction adds on to the no-nonsense, brutally honest character I ascribed to the piece in the previous section. We’re not trying to trick the audience into thinking this is something beautiful and Brahmsian. Brutto, ignudo is what it is, and that’s how it plans on presenting itself, even if it comes off as jarring or confusing to the listener.
That all being said, emotionless doesn’t mean directionless. Bussotti wrote this piece as part of a ballet, which probably means people were dancing while the bass clarinet played. If you listen to this piece (or anything by Bussotti, really), you can probably guess the kinds of movements and gestures the dancers were making (Hint: Think “Rite of Spring” and not “Swan Lake.”) See if you can evoke those gestures in your phrasing.
The rests and fermatas: The only time you should hold a rest longer than it is indicated is if it has a fermata over it. As Bussotti points out, there are five fermatas in this piece which break up the flow of the music. The fermatas’ values are “progressive” - that is, each one is longer than the next. The first fermata is over a sixteenth rest, the second is over an eighth rest, and so on. This is one of the few things that Bussotti specifically wants observed, so be sure to do it! The last fermata is in parentheses, over a breath mark, with a double-dotted quarter rest following. I see the breath and rest as both being part of the fermata; observe the progressive value of the fermata while making sure you take a good breath for the next section.
Final Thoughts: This piece is written in German notation, so make sure you’re comfortable reading both clefs interchangeably and remember to play all the treble clef stuff up an octave. The material on lines 4 and 6-7 on page 2 is the same, just notated differently; make sure you do something with that, as that is the only instance of repetition in this piece. Don’t worry about playing the small notes as fast as possible - always prioritize clarity over speed. Breath marks with slashes through them indicate quick breaths. Observe dynamics carefully. The text over line 7 on page 2 means, “harsh, exhausted (renounce).” I take this to mean that the music is tired and just wants to be done with everything. Show that mood!
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