furious artisans

Paris-X: Musica Obscura of Dane Rudhyar and Erik Satie

Page 4 of 4 A very different spirit infuses the last work on this disc, Satie’s Uspud, described on the title page of the manuscript as a “Christian ballet in three acts by J.P. Contamine de Latour [a Catalan-born poet and for a time Satie’s closest friend]: Sacred music in three acts by Erik Satie.” Although ultimately a work of serious intent, the ballet was intended in part to shock the Parisian musical establishment. In a stunt probably designed to impress his Montmartre friends, Satie even challenged the director of the Paris Opéra to a duel in order to gain the work a hearing. The director declined, but the (non-violent) meeting that ensued allowed Satie to claim that the work had been “presented”—although not “performed”—at the Opéra. The work has been described as an early experiment in the theatre of the absurd; its text was the first to be published entirely in lower case.     Uspud was written immediately following the years of Satie’s association with the flamboyant, self-styled “Sâr” Joséphin Péladan, for whose spurious Ordre de la Rose-Croix Catholique du Temple et du Graal he became “official” composer. Satie broke relations publicly with Péladan in August 1892, and the following year became the founder (and sole member) of the Église Métropolitaine d’Art de Jésus Conducteur. Uspud, completed in Paris in November 1892 (“finished to our great joy the 72nd of the Works of Hermetic Contemplation, as Evening was coming on”, the manuscript informs us) thus comes from the brief interlude between these two spells of formal pseudo-religious affiliation. Although described as a “ballet,” Uspud was probably intended for the shadow theatre at the Auberge du Clou, the cabaret at which Satie was at that time employed as a pianist. We have no record of it having been performed there, and the work remained relatively little known for many decades.     The text of Uspud was a joint effort by Satie and Latour, and several different versions of it have survived. The outline of the story, however, is essentially consistent. Uspud, the “sole character” of the ballet, is described as a “young, very rich pagan; a handsome young man greatly valued in ancient society.” In Act One, set alternatively in a desert or a deserted beach (an example of the differing details in the extant manuscripts), Uspud enters and makes a fire out of some relics (or bones). Out of the smoke an apparition presents itself: a vision of the Christian church. Uspud, in surprise, takes some sand and rubs his eyes. Enraged, he throws stones at the apparition; the stones turn into balls of fire, and the act ends in “a great convulsion of nature.” In Act Two Uspud, reflecting “profoundly upon paganism,” is beset by visions of demons, hideous deformed creatures with animal heads. In terror and panic he calls upon heaven for help. The Christian church appears once more, “white as snow and transparent as crystal; lotus flowers bloom beneath her feet”. Uspud falls to the ground and professes his devotion to the church: he is converted. Act Three begins with Uspud lying prostrate before a crucifix. A procession of saints passes before him and summon him to martyrdom. Worked into a frenzy of suffering, he swallows sand and cuts his face. A legion of demons in the form of monstrous dogs then rise up on every side; Uspud commends his spirit to the Lord and gives himself up to the demons, who tear him to pieces. The Christian church appears once more, “shining with clarity and escorted by two angels,” who carry Uspud’s body heavenwards to the arms of Christ. (Significantly, the dramatic and terrifying action described in the text is accompanied by music of great serenity and calm, a typically Satie-esque paradox.)     Contemporary reaction to Satie and Latour’s “Christian ballet” varied considerably. Debussy was the only composer at the time to recognize the serious intent behind the work. (Satie’s friendship with Debussy blossomed as a result: it was Debussy who famously called Satie a “gentle medieval musician who has strayed into this century”). Rudhyar, however, was unconvinced, declaring that it was “vain to look for a trace of meaning” in Satie’s works of this period. “They have an aspect of paltriness”, he wrote, “which puts speculation to flight. Whom or what is he ridiculing? Is it Péladan? Is it mysticism? In truth it seems as though Satie has already commenced to ridicule himself, and that his pretended religiosity is no more than a farce by which he allows himself to be snared... The decadents and other neo-mystics have acknowledged that life has beaten them; that they are powerless. And they have adorned their psychic adynamy with beautiful dreams, with fair vices and elegancies. Erik Satie has sought salvation in ridicule.”     With the passage of time our perspectives change, and it is easier for us today than it was for the twenty-four-year-old Rudhyar in 1919 to perceive the seriousness behind Satie’s work. Rudhyar’s writings in fact help us to regain a sense of how strange music like Uspud must have seemed in its own time, and offer a valuable perception of Satie that is far removed from our view of him today. And whatever their differences—of temperament, of musical language, of artistic purpose—Dane Rudhyar and Erik Satie have nonetheless given us a legacy that binds them together: the legacy of lives devoted to the pursuit of artistic truth through the medium of music. Bob Gilmore Amsterdam, August 2001 Bob Gilmore studied at York University in England and, on a Fulbright Scholarship, at the University of California, San Diego. He has taught at Queen’s University, Belfast, and presently teaches at Dartington College of Arts in England. He is the author of Harry Partch: a biography (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1998); his writings on contemporary music have appeared in a variety of international media. << Start < Prev 1 2 3 4 Next > End >>