Interdisciplinary Approach
In Le Livre de Vie the principle of synthesis between the arts, the Gesamtkunstwerk, is clearly maintained. Besides music, both text (from symbolist poet Balmont and a canonic text from orthodox liturgy) and visual art play the important function in this work of carrying the religious symbolism, which unlike in Messiaen's works, is not present in terms of musical properties like harmony, rhythm or instrumentation.1
Here too we see a concern with visual effects translated into a deliberate crafting of many different elements, from the “priestess-like dress”2 designed by Obukhov himself, worn by the main interpreter of the Croix Sonore performance, Marie-Antoinette Aussenac-Broglie3 , to the design of the venue, and even to the manuscript score itself:
The last of these stages takes the form of elaborate, composite, fold-out sheets, collaged from cloth and colored paper, stuck, sewn, and clipped together, to form six separate scores. Together they have considerable visual impact, an effect of obvious importance to Obukhov, that transcends the necessity for sonoric organization.4
One of the most predominant visual symbols in Obukhov’s aesthetic is the cross. Something that was present already in an early stage, in his notation system, appeared in performances of the early 1930’s in the form of the Croix Sonore, the Sounding Cross, an electronic instrument he developed together with Michel Billaudot and Pierre Dauvillier, which was very similar to the theremin. For Obukhov, the shape of the cross was meant to symbolize a perfect balance.5 This instrument was meant to fulfill an integral part in Le Livre de Vie and did enjoy a spotlight in several performances. If on one hand the Croix Sonore brought a new source of sound, it also had great visual impact on the other, reenforcing the importance of the visual aspect of Obukhov’s musical performances.
One more interesting aspect of the plan for the performance of Le Livre de Vie is the idea of the architectural setting. From descriptions of the time, it is known that there was a vision (although never executed) for the ideal architectural setting of the performance. He commissioned the painter Natalia Goncharova for the design, the esquisse of which is located in the Bibliothèque de France, and which can be described as circular temple in the shape of a dome. There was also an idea for how to distribute the participants within said space:
When the ‘Book of Life’ is performed, by which I mean when it is lived, the spectators, the participants will be arranged in spirals, in the interior of a circular and raised scene. The ‘terrestrial’ orchestra will be coiled up around the scene. A dome will contain the ‘celestial’ orchestra. Lighting changes will intervene in the ‘Sacred Action’, a synthesis of cult and orgy [the latter meant symbolically.]6
Like with Scriabin, the organization of the space was of utmost importance to achieve true unity between all the participants, whether they were performers or audience. For him the conventional staging of the venues was not enough:
Scriabin took issue with Wagner’s positioning of his audience: The audience, the spectators are separated by the stage instead of being joined with the performers in a single act. I will not have any sort of theatre. Wagner, with all his genius, could never surmount the theatrical—the stage— never, because he did not understand what the matter was. He did not realize that all the evil in this separation lay in that there was no unity, no genuine experience, but only the representation of experience. The true eradication of the stage can be accomplished in the ‘Mystery.’7
Larronde's description clarifies not only the distribution of the audience and performers in the venue, but also the acoustic distribution of sound in the space. Monolithic domes are constructed to reflect most of the sound through their centre. The reference to “Celestial orchestra” can be understood as a metaphor for the concentration of sound in this focal point, above the spectators. It is possible to imagine what a big impact this spatialization effect would have, and how it might create a truly immersive experience. There is here a principle of experiencing not only sound in space, but also in the actual architectural features of that space, considering the spirals and raised circular stages as well.
As we can see, in Obukhov there is a curatorship that embraces all aspects of a performance, from space, light, clothing; there was a deliberate use of interdisciplinary elements, and reflection about the relation between audiences and performers that, as we will see further, actually surpassed ideas concerning spatial organization. This comes from the principle of the total work of art, of synthetizing all arts, but also from the influence of Scriabin in this search for actively stimulating all the different senses. It is worth noting that the symbolism present in such elements (clothes and Croix Sonore) work not only as a mere vessel or added scenery to enhance the sensorial experience of the audience, but it was also present in the materials intended for the performers (score and notation). This adds a mystical meaning and dimension to the experience of the performers.
The religious symbolism aspect was to some degree detached and independent from the practical purpose of each element, bearing its own higher, superior significance. At the same time, they work together to form a bigger product and artistic result. In my performative approach I intend to use this same holistic approach with interdisciplinary elements, to symbolize philosophical ideas, thereby reproducing the same degree of relation between the whole and the part.
The Function of Musical Performance in Russian Symbolism Aesthetics
A Ritual of Transformation
Central to the function and meaning of the total work of art in Russian Symbolism is the concept of transformation through the performative act. Scriabin’s Gesamtkunstwerk was theosophical, meaning, that through apocalyptic dematerialization it is possible to launch humanity into a new dimension of existence. With Obukhov, being less eclectic in his spiritual concerns as a devout Christian, the total work of art and world view resonates with many aspects of Christian theology, and especially Russian Orthodoxy, and also with mystical neo-Christianity, which is characterized by the search for new orientations towards the future, of a continuity of existence under a “new religious consciousness”.8 Obukhov conceived of his art as a path to societal rebirth, and of performance as an act of redemption - meant to restore the bond between the spiritual and material realm, and transform a society lost to decadence and individualistic impulses. The idea of transformation through music in Le Livre de Vie, which Obukhov referred to as “Sacred Action”, can thus be compared to the transubstantiation of matter into divine spirit of the Catholic Mass as well as with the less literal consubstantiation of Christian Orthodoxy.9
The actual concept of Le Livre de Vie was thus much more than a mere musical piece:
It is therefore a revelation, a new religion, so to speak, which is presented to us under the aspect of a vast work to the accomplishment of which all the arts must contribute and which in its source, in its essence, is musical. It is of course not a question of an opera, a musical drama, even a religious one, like Parsifal, of a "performance", but of the accomplishment of a mystery, of a divine service.10
Collectivity in Artistic Experience and Unity Between Audience and Performers
In Obukhov there is in one spectrum a deeply personal, individualized faith, that at the same time reveals itself as an expectation of a collective spiritual uplifting - a desire for the dissemination of a spiritual ideal, through music, or as he calls it, “the civilizing mission of music".11
The ideal of a communal existence is one of the main characteristics that distinguishes the Russian Symbolism movement and comes from philosopher Solovyev. There was the belief that through music it was possible to create a collective spiritual and artistic experience that would bring about a transformed, more united society. This central idea of collectivity was for Russian mystics a primary concern when envisioning performance, and it brought about perhaps one of the most interesting characteristics of the total work of work of art in Russian Symbolism - the search for erasing boundaries between performers and spectators. Uniting all the individuals present in the performative act would symbolize this universal unity. This unity between performers and audience was not only a variable that relied on the spatial setting and abolishment of the traditional stage, as we saw earlier, but also on the entire approach to performance. Here again the parallel with the Catholic Mass is helpful for understanding the roles and experiences of performers and audience in this context:
[About Nikolai Obukhov’s Le Livre de Vie]
Neither spectators nor actors, but some, like priests, would take a direct part in the action, others attend, participate mentally, like the faithful in the church. This action should take place in a circular temple, around the public, the faithful, occupying the center of the rotunda.12
[About Alexander Scriabin’s Mysterium]
One cannot speak here of representation, just as in the church where people pray do not watch from the outside the acts of the priest, who offers a sacrifice not bloody, do not listen to the song of the choir from without, but identify themselves inwardly with the choir in their prayers, and unite in spirit with the priest.13
When addressing this issue of separation, usually one goes to audience participation in the performance as a way of integrating and bringing this sense of collectivity. Indeed, in the Russian Silver Age, there were some attempts to create performances that approximated the role of the audience more to that of performer, through collaborative performances where the spectators would contribute to the final artistic result, such as in the House of Song, founded in 1908 by Maria Olenina-d’Alheim and Piotf d'Alheim.14
On the other hand, in some details Obukhov also created a situation in which performers were induced to participate symbolically in the action beyond the musical role of interpreter. Some sections of Le Livre de Vie were made from scores in the shape of the cross; some parts were distributed in an order that, in the eyes of the performer when reading the music, would make the sign of the cross. Shaw-Miller also notices that when playing the croix sonore with both hands together, to vary the pitch, sometimes the movement resembled the act of praying.15
Both above-mentioned attempts imply a search for the dissolution of strict roles, a desire to create, to a certain degree, a common artistic or spiritual experience for those involved. It is remarkable to see how this artistic community at the beginning of the 20th century, including Nikolai Obukhov, was challenging concert formats and its constitutive roles by experimenting with more fluid formats. This shows an immense innovation and proves how deeply-rooted philosophical ideas in a society can shape artistic production and performance conceptions. These ideas also challenge today’s classical music concert paradigm and provide an interesting basis for reflection.
On one side, the concept of an equal status between audience and performer can be approached by augmenting audience interaction and participation, concentrated more on transforming the role of a passive spectator into an active creator. On the other side, much more can be said about how to approximate the role of the performer to that of the audience, by means of enabling a certain common experience. Coming back to the concept of transcendence through music, of transcending time and physical limits, in a mystic-inspired performance the goal should be that both sides have some degree of transcendental experience during the execution of the act. How this can happen today, in our modern society and musical scene, is what I intend to explore further in this exposition.
Nikolai Obukhov’s Le Livre de Vie is probably his most idiomatic and interesting works. The manuscript (found in Bibliotèque Nationale de France) consists of more than eight hundred pages divided into 4 volumes and seven chapters (symbolizing the six days of creation and one day of rest); it dates to 1924-1925 and is written for voice and one or two pianos, with a libretto in Russian. Although the piece was envisioned as musical theatre, a staged symphonic poem, there was no actual realization of the orchestration part. There is an indication in the manuscript that the piece should be performed every year on Easter day from midnight on, throughout the day without interruption.16 The fact that, like Scriabin's Mysterium, this ambitious project was never actually performed in its totality, neither in its originally imaged format, and that the few performances of it consisted of some loose or unknown parts of the total manuscript structure, varying in instrumentation, gives the sense that the piece never reached its full and complete state, and that it was a project that the composer carried throughout his life, constantly adapting and expanding it.17 There are however many sources that can contribute to understanding the vision of the work as a whole. Despite its natural impracticality and almost unattainable and utopic character, understanding Obukhov’s artistic approach is nevertheless useful as a source of inspiration.
