Ars et vita

Magne Hegdal is one of the leading Norwegian composers of his generation. He has never pushed himself forward, but instead, throughout a long career has produced a rich, voluminous oeuvre. Much of this is composed for his own instrument, the piano. In 2019 he completed the monumental Ars et vita, the crowning glory of this life’s work. By his own account, his work as a composer is now done, and this piece will come to stand as his musical legacy.

The composition consists of a total of 22 movements and lasts approximately one hour and 45 minutes. It is written for three pianists who alternate between playing solo, four-hands and six-hands. In the final movement, works are quoted from each of the years that Hegdal has spent as an active composer, between 1955 and 2019, called CV in the score. The cycle includes other autobiographical elements, backward looks at earlier works, and motifs from classical pieces that his older sister used to practise, all of these frequently put together according to chance operations – summed up as "Memories, Experiences and Dreamt Waltzes", as the subtitle puts it. In this way, Ars et vita becomes an overarching narrative of Hegdal’s life and development as a composer. 

This writer was drawn into the work after saxophonist Rolf-Erik Nystrøm made me aware of Invention (No. 12), whereupon I practised and performed it at the FRAM Festival in Nesodden in 2021 together with Salix (No. 10), which I played with Sanae Yoshida. We also got Magne Hegdal himself to join us in one of the six-hands movements, Chorale (No. 7). Then we teamed up with Ellen Ugelvik to perform the entire work, which took place during the Ultima Festival in Oslo on 20 September 2023.

Invention is a contrapuntal collage of themes by Beethoven (the ‘Pathetique’ sonata), J.S. Bach (Invention No. 1) and C.P.E. Bach (Solfeggietto) in addition to Salix or Willow Waltz, one of Ars et vita’s "dreamt waltzes". The latter’s theme also generates the basis of several variations in No. 16 as well as No. 14 (Weeping Willow).Another dreamt waltz, Vestfold, is presented as 122 variations in No. 20 and another 15 variations in Coda, the first part of the final movement, before the above-mentioned closing section, Curriculum Vitae. 

Other themes arrive crisscrossing over themselves throughout the cycle. So one theme from the middle of the introduction crops up as the first of two twelve-tone movements in No. 2, which was written as early as 1964. Later, the same material is reused in part B of No. 13, Fughetta. Part A of this movement, Adagietto, is based on chance operations: the individual parts are written out, but the timing between the three pianists is completely free, so that the audible results are different every time.

No. 5, Decaphony, first composed in 1965, uses 10 of the 12 tones, and the two last ones are only heard right at the end. This is followed by a Fantasia in which the same tonal material is presented in the style of Stockhausen, laid over the blueprint of his Klavierstück II; the result is described by the composer as ‘Stockhausen maltreated by an ignoramus’. Both of these movements are combined as the Sonatina iconoclastica. The theme from the Decaphony is further developed in the following piece, Dream Song, the first of three "songes" (dreams), which are monodic and therefore pieces for one-hand (Nos. 6 and 11) or, as in the first part of No. 17 (Traces), spread over two hands and supplemented by interventions from the other two pianists. This part is introduced by a transformation of the theme from Beethoven’s Spring sonata and constitutes the first movement in a Sonatina Autonnale, with a subtlety typical of the composer. Some movements are based on poems and echo their syntax – for instance Nos. 9, 11 and 17/III.

In No. 15, Children’s play, children’s songs of different nations are used. The piece represents the game of hopscotch (known as ‘paradise’ in Norwegian), in which you begin on Earth (Terre), pass through a labyrinth and end up in Heaven (Ciel), as in a French cathedral. Another large scale solo piece is Adagione (No. 18). Here we find, among others, a fugato on dreamt waltzes; otherwise this is the most expansive of all the movements, full of Romantic gestures. No. 3, Cultural Landscape of Eastern Norway (With White Painted Church) includes references to Bach and several other composers together with the psalm "Jesus, how sweet are Your words to my taste". It is also possible to hear the religious song "The Church in the Wildwood", which in its day was hugely popular in Norway, despite its American origins. Songs like these have been important parts of the culture of eastern Norway, including the place where Hegdal grew up in Gjerdrum. Another reference used in this movement is a musical "transcription" of the Great Bear constellation (Ursa Major). This theme can also be heard in No. 17.

In contrast to these references, there are also the movements that are entirely shaped by chance operations – so-called aleatoric music, after the Latin alea (lot). Adagietto (No. 13A), subtitled Preludio aleafonico, has already been mentioned. Another comparable movement is No. 8, La logique de Dieu, which is a quote from the author Georges Bernanos: "But what we call chance is perhaps the logic of God?" The result of this kind of randomising process is an extremely abstract tonal language with no identifiable reference points. Similar procedures are followed in Nos. 19 and 21, which flank the Vestfold waltz and provide a sharp contrast to its folkish character, full of humoristic incidents. Other movements suggest earlier musical forms, such as Fugue in C (No. 3), originally composed in 1964. Titles such as Ouverture, Sonatina, Chorale, Invention, Variation, or Preludio e fughetta confirm this connection to classical forms.

To sum up, the work’s 22 movements reflect a rich and eclectic artistic oeuvre, which the composer goes into in more depth in his own commentary. They are also a reflection of an entire life.

Håkon Austbø

Art and Life

I have been composing since I was a child, beginning with improvised attempts to emulate the classical music that my sister Norun used to play. When I was ten, I fumblingly started to write these compositions down, after my sister had taught me the principles of notation. To begin with, I had no knowledge of music theory, but tried to imitate any music that happened to appeal to me. The result was a kind of ‘music-historical’ development: classical, romantic and expressionistic, up to a more contemporary-oriented style. In the process, the music gradually became more personal, while at the same time the composition technique became more confident, through practical experience. This basis in practicality meant that when I eventually came to study music professionally, the rules seemed natural and familiar.

Around 1970 my development, via serialism and aleatorics, reached a kind of point zero: music reduced to a bare minimum of expressive effects, often single tones and tonal progressions with no other ‘quality’ than that they were not consciously chosen, but the result of randomness within the frameworks I had determined. In this method of composition, the creative work lies in the establishment of a procedure, and the audible result ends up as an impersonal "natural phenomenon" which I myself receive. Paradoxically, I considered this to be a pressing artistic necessity, which touched on a fundamental experience of reality.

With this as a blank slate to start from, I began to construct musical forms once again. I had reached a point where style as a historical phenomenon (constantly developing towards something new and often more advanced) no longer seemed relevant. It therefore became natural to include references to older music and different musical styles. Even though I have eventually arrived at a direct form of expression again, these radical experiences lay at the bottom of all my work. That’s why my music will often have a "meta" aspect: "music about music".

Ars et vita was begun in 2010, at a time when, after a long development period, I could once again compose music directly and intuitively. For ten years, the project grew into a summation of my whole life’s musical experiences. The result is highly complex in style and form. Here are miniatures and spacious compositions; traditional expressions of emotion and abstract chance music ("aleaphonies"); ‘speaking’ recitatives and constructions – even a fugue or two. There is also some older material, including two earlier unpublished compositions from 1964. Nevertheless, this is a single, coherent work; all the movements are, to a greater or lesser extent, linked to other parts of the work. In its form, it might be reminiscent of an oratorio (but with no singing! – and no references to Gounod’s Mors et vita!).

Dreamt waltzes: The work was inspired by a dream. I was at a party, and someone told me that ‘Now you’ll soon be finishing your great work’ (in reality, I had no plans for any such piece). ‘The only thing left is the Vestfold movement. So it’s important that you find a good theme.’ In the dream, the sound of a waltz emerged, a simple stanza of four bars, which was repeated over and over in endless new variations. And I (who cannot dance) grabbed hold of the party’s hostess and danced, elegantly, to this waltz. When I woke up, I started working on this material, which resulted in movement No. 20: Vestfold – dance waltz in 122 variations. This (which in the dream was supposed to be the end of a great work) was the first completed part of what would eventually become Ars et vita. (For the record: my family originally comes from Vestfold county.)

It also felt natural to include a waltz which I dreamed about in 1968, after the death of my sister Norun. Despite its ‘banality’, it was highly emotional for me. I have always remembered it, but was not able to use it for anything until now. In the dream, the waltz was associated with some willow trees at the Gjerdrum rectory where I grew up, hence the title Salix (Willow Waltz).

Magne Hegdal