Harry Partch was an American composer perhaps best known for developing and using a temperament other than equal. He even designed new instruments and notational systems in order to use this temperament to invoke passionate emotion in the audience, just as music from ancient societies might have done. The Bewitched, A Dance Satire (1957) exemplifies his idea of “corporeality,” which asserts that the music should be joined with physicality and that separating the two would take away an important aspect of the art. In addition, Partch emphasized that the corporeal nature of his works was related to ancient forms that have since been “mutilated.”[1] In this work, the musicians are freed from the musical pit and released on a stage full of risers where they move and act as well as play Partch’s instruments. Here, the instruments themselves take on physicality as they form the set. This expansion of the role of the performer in addition to Partch’s unique instrumentation makes The Bewitched an intriguing philosophical study. It is quite rhythmically driven, and the vocalizations are all nonsense syllables. While the piece is not an easy listen, perhaps in part because the music in CD form has been ripped from its corporeal aspects, Partch’s innovative ideas regarding music demand study.
The Bewitched opens and closes with a focus on the musicians as they act under the presence of the Witch. An eighteen minute prologue titled ‘The Lost Musicians Mix Magic” accompanies their discovery of the freedom of the stage. Partch himself related in his notes: “If this evening accomplishes nothing else, it will relieve the beautiful (and) rhythmic movements of the musicians from the inhibitory incubus of tight coats and tight shoes.” In putting the musicians in such a prominent position, he was perhaps “cocking a snook”[2] at the specialization of the fine arts. Rather than limiting the musicians to the role of music-makers, he showed that musicians also have bodies that can perform visually. Additionally, by putting them onstage as part of the drama, Partch supports his idea that music is inseparable from the body and cannot be expressed without the physical, which also emphasizes corporeality and ties music and drama to each other quite tightly. As the musicians exit the stage during the Epilogue (after the exit of the Witch), they are seen on a “stairway to infinity” created from their risers as they continue to push boundaries, perhaps even to infinity (Partch).
Partch’s own synopsis of the work describes the action vividly; his text clearly paints the progression of the state of minds of characters from the beginning to end of each scene. The influence of the Witch as well as the “unwitching” of the characters play a huge role in his written synopsis, but much of his vivid language would probably not be done justice on the stage. The fifth scene, ‘Visions Fill the Eyes of a Defeated Basketball Team in the Shower Room,’ certainly has an audible change in character from the beginning “groove” in percussion and voice to frenetic piccolo and clarinet accompanied by the Witch. However, without Partch’s words that “the basketball team—now unwitched—has fallen completely under the charming belief that reality contains a compound of both experience and imagination,” it would be impossible for the audience to ascertain that they feel “experience and imagination.” Perhaps this synopsis is therefore another part of the de-specialization of the form and intertwining of its roles, as the text is inseparable from the music and action. Even if the text is satirical,[3] as the title of the work implies, the interaction between the words and music remains undividable.
Although Partch created his own instruments in order to capture a tonal system that would better resonate with listeners, he still included piccolo, clarinet, and bass clarinet in the orchestration. Their scales serve as a remarkable juxtaposition to the scales of Partch’s instruments, such as the cloud chamber bowls and kithara. While these “standard” instruments often work in harmony with Partch’s own instruments, in other cases, they are violently attacked because of the harmonies that they traditionally play. Scene 2, titled “Exercises in Harmony and Counterpoint Are Tried in a Court of Ancient Ritual,” serves as a battle between 18th century harmony and Partch’s more emotionally powerful music. This movement begins with the cello and clarinet playing a melody that sounds harmonically stable (according to old rules of harmony) interrupted by plucked instruments playing in Partch’s tonal system. Later in the scene, the cello and clarinet begin to play a canon only to be interrupted by a new, powerful melody belted out by the Witch. Soon, the 18th century-influenced cello and clarinet are squashed completely and replaced with Partch’s new sound (which, of course, was influenced by his concept of ancient sound).
Partch’s looking back to the past is evident in several movements. Scenes 8 and 10 as well as the prologue contain a contrapuntal melody derived from the Cahuilla Indians (Synopsis, Partch), which is very fitting for Partch since he so respected the ancient traditions of other cultures. He also mentioned in his synopsis that Scene 1 is a parallel to Greek drama: “The bewitched enter, and the analogy with lyric tragedy is complete: the Chorus, the Perceptive Voice, the Actors.” Partch’s revisiting of the musical traditions of cultures that used music and drama to provoke emotion demonstrate his own desire to move people with his work. Indeed, much of his rhythmically driven work is reminiscent of some type of tribal or ritual music, which certainly was meant to invoke strong passions in people listening and participating. However, although Partch freed the musicians from the pit, the audience was not freed from their seating and was left only to watch the drama without taking part.
This work has probably been omitted from the Canon because it is not easily accessible to members of an average audience; it is not a work that people would likely listen to for fun. In fact, the average person probably would not even watch the production for fun. The vocalizations along with the broken melodies (when melodies even exist) create a jarring effect. While this effect certainly fits the title of The Bewitched, it is not a feeling that many people want to experience. Although the catchy beat and vocalization of “Visions Fill the Eyes of a Defeated Basketball Team in the Shower Room” seems to have been getting stuck in my head lately, the work as a whole quickly becomes too unsettling for comfort. I was much more interested in Partch’s philosophies than I was in the musical fulfillment of these philosophies, and while his tuning system and revisions to the modern staged work may warrant a place in the Canon, that place is probably not best held by The Bewitched.
[1] “We are reduced to specialties—a theater of dialogue without music, for example—and a concert of music without drama. Basic mutilations of ancient concept! My music is visual—it is corporeal, aural, and visual” (emphasis added, Harry Partch, Liner Notes for The Bewitched 2005:536).
[2]“Cocking a snook” is an old –fashioned British phrase meaning “to show that you do not respect something or someone by doing something that insults them” (Cambridge International Dictionary of Idioms).
[3]The text and situations are certainly meant to be satirical. However, many of Partch’s themes (such as the one found in “Visions Fill the Eyes of a Defeated Basketball Team in the Shower Room) may give difficulty to audiences trying to clearly recognize the satirical elements, especially amidst the rapid changes in each scene due to the “unwitching.” Likewise, rapid changes in musical dynamics, texture, and tempo further obscure what exactly Parch is satirizing.
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