Peer Gynt Suite No.1

Anitra’s Dance: tempo di mazurka

In the Hall of the Mountain King: alla marcia e molto marcato

The central figure of Ibsen’s dramatic poem Peer Gynt is based on a real-life character whose name was still remembered by the peasant community in Gubrandsdal in Norway during Ibsen’s and Grieg’s lifetime. Of course, the poet’s development of the story and the fantastic, satirical detail of Peer’s exploits in America, Morocco and Egypt go far beyond the original folk sources. But it must have been the basically lovable Norwegian qualities of Ibsen’s hero – who, though totally unscrupulous in his cheerful kind of way, retained the lifelong devotion of the faithful Solveig – that persuaded Grieg to agree to the playwright’s request to provide incidental music for the first staged performance of Peer Gynt, which eventually took place in Oslo in 1876. Certainly, it is in the Norwegian episodes, particularly those involving the lovely Solveig, that Grieg’s score is most apt and most inspired.

Paradoxically, of the two concert suites compiled by the composer himself from the twenty or so items of incidental music, the more popular is the First - which includes neither Solveig’s song nor her lullaby and which has as many exotic as Norwegian numbers in it. Out of its theatrical context Morning, for example, is commonly associated with the rising sun reflected in ice-cold fjords and glinting on snow-covered mountains. In fact, it was originally intended to welcome the dawn in the desert in Morocco, where Peer has been abandoned by his companions. “Ah, what a glorious morning it is!” he exclaims, “It touches the world with gold!” According to the stage directions, he is cutting a reed pipe at the time, which no doubt explains both the charmingly bucolic nature of the main theme and its shepherd’s-pipe colouring on its first and last appearances.

The Death of Aase is a Norwegian episode and, indeed, the only one where Peer acts unselfishly, putting himself in danger by returning home to his dying mother. “Yes, Peer, it will soon be over. When you see my eyes cloud over, then you must close them gently....” Aase’s words find their ideal reflection in Grieg’s scoring for muted strings, the B minor harmonies, and after the central climax on the rising inflections of the main theme, the falling phrases gradually dying away to nothing at the end.

Anitra’s Dance is performed by a voluptuous Bedouin princess who, mistaking Peer for the Prophet, is eager to please him. Grieg’s music, again scored for muted strings but this time with discreet applications of triangle colour, is a chaste mazurka, which is somewhat incongruous in the exotic circumstances but no less attractive for that.

In the Hall of the Mountain King is an essentially Norwegian scene, since this is where the trolls, gnomes and goblins are to be found and where Peer, who has ventured into the subterranean palace in pursuit of the Mountain King’s daughter, is in danger of being torn to pieces. In music that “reeks of cowpats,” according to according to his own description, Grieg creates his alarmingly primitive effect by repeating one grotesque theme over and over, louder and louder, and quicker and quicker.

Anitra’s Dance: tempo di mazurka

Solveig’s Song: andante

In the Hall of the Mountain King: alla marcia e molto marcato

The central figure of Ibsen’s dramatic poem Peer Gynt is based on a real-life character whose name was still remembered by the peasant community in Gubrandsdal in Norway during Ibsen’s and Grieg’s lifetime. Of course, the poet’s development of the story and the fantastic, satirical detail of Peer’s exploits in America, Morocco and Egypt go far beyond the original folk sources. But it must have been the basically lovable Norwegian qualities of Ibsen’s hero - who, though totally unscrupulous in his cheerful kind of way, retained the lifelong devotion of the faithful Solveig - that persuaded Grieg to agree to the playwright’s request to provide incidental music for the first staged performance of Peer Gynt, which eventually took place in Oslo in 1876. Certainly, it is in the Norwegian episodes, particularly those involving the lovely Solveig, that Grieg’s score is most apt and most inspired.

Paradoxically, of the two concert suites compiled by the composer himself from the twenty or so items of incidental music, the more popular is the First - which includes neither Solveig’s Lullaby nor Solveig’s Song (though the latter item will be heard as an additional movement in tonight’s performance) and which has as many exotic as Norwegian numbers in it. Out of its theatrical context Morning, for example, is commonly associated with the rising sun reflected in ice-cold fjords and glinting on snow-covered mountains. In fact, it was originally intended to welcome the dawn in the desert in Morocco, where Peer has been abandoned by his companions. “Ah, what a glorious morning it is!” he exclaims, “It touches the world with gold!” According to the stage directions, he is cutting a reed pipe at the time, which no doubt explains both the charmingly bucolic nature of the main theme and its shepherd’s-pipe colouring on its first and last appearances.

The Death of Aase is a Norwegian episode and, indeed, the only one where Peer acts unselfishly, putting himself in danger by returning home to his dying mother. “Yes, Peer, it will soon be over. When you see my eyes cloud over, then you must close them gently....” Aase’s words find their ideal reflection in Grieg’s scoring for muted strings, the B minor harmonies, and after the central climax on the rising inflections of the main theme, the falling phrases gradually dying away to nothing at the end.

Anitra’s Dance is performed by a voluptuous Bedouin princess who, mistaking Peer for the Prophet, is eager to please him. Grieg’s music, again scored for muted strings but this time with discreet applications of triangle colour, is a chaste mazurka, which is somewhat incongruous in the exotic circumstances but no less attractive for that.

Solveig’s Song is first heard in a brief scene set in Norway in the middle of the otherwise North-African fourth act, just after Peer has been cheated by the seductive Anitra and has decided he would rather pursue the study of Egyptian history. Solveig, now middle-aged, is sitting at her spinning wheel outside her hut in a sunlit clearing in the forest. As she spins she sings, in profoundly nostalgic Norwegian folk-song inflections, of her resolve to wait for Peer’s return, however long it might take.

In the Hall of the Mountain King is an essentially Norwegian scene, since this is where the trolls, gnomes and goblins are to be found and where Peer, who has ventured into the subterranean palace in pursuit of the Mountain King’s daughter, is in danger of being torn to pieces. In music that, according to according to his own description, “reeks of cowpats” Grieg creates his alarmingly primitive effect by repeating one grotesque theme over and over, louder and louder, and quicker and quicker.

Gerald Larner 2005