LILI

Before I get going with this post, just a quick note to say that I will be blogging here on this website from now on.  My previous entries over at Blogspot will remain up there as long as blogspot remains a thing. Perhaps, if I ever manage to find a free moment, I may at some point move some of that archive over here. Either way, as infrequent as I have been over the past few years, grecchinois lives on.  I simply have a new blog web address.  Now, on to the post:

Lili Boulanger

Lili Boulanger

Considering how much very loud opining there has been lately amongst the Classical music community about the dearth of diversity in programming, I must admit that I am extraordinarily surprised that so few people have mentioned Lili Boulanger.  March 15, 2018 was the 100th anniversary of her death, and I would have thought that more people would be writing about her in this age in which article after article is being published decrying how few female composers are being programmed enough by our leading classical music institutions. This article about the Cleveland Orchestra basically went the classical-music equivalent of viral a couple of weeks ago, just days after the anniversary of Lili's passing. I saw it posted on countless colleagues' social media accounts - yet I've seen little-to-no mention of Lili Boulanger. 

In an industry that is obsessed with celebrating anniversaries, it is shocking that the centenary of her death barely registers on the radar.  Leonard Bernstein's 100th birthday is all over the news, and I can't tell you how many times I've heard presenters already excitedly mention Beethoven's upcoming 250th birthday in 2020 in artistic planning discussions, yet a Google News search of Lili Boulanger's name reveals little more in the English-speaking musical press than a cursory post about the centenary of her death on Slipped Disc that doesn't elaborate much on its headline beyond a link to an older post about Lili and a youtube video of her Nocturne for violin and piano.

I don't compare press mentions to imply that composers like Bernstein and Beethoven shouldn't be fêted, because they are white, male composers or because they are so often performed as part of the standard repertoire.  On the contrary, I strongly believe that their work should be celebrated, and that there is every reason to take advantage of these anniversaries to do so.  Considering how many major symphony orchestras have 52-week seasons, there is more than enough opportunity to celebrate them as we are, and to celebrate the work and tragically short life of Lili, as well as the work of other under-performed female composers and composers of color. 

Looking forward to Tomorrow's recital at the Herbst Theater here in San Francisco, Lili's music takes the prime spot on our program. My recital partner, Myra, and I will perform 8 of the 13 songs from Lili's song cycle, Clairières dans le ciel. Since the cycle is so long in its complete form, it was only possible to perform parts of it for this program. As she herself excerpted 8 of the songs to be orchestrated, I took that as a clue that it would be appropriate to perform these 8 songs of the cycle on their own (Myra and I are planning on performing and recording the cycle in its entirety in a future season).  Despite the fact that we will perform only excerpts of the cycle tomorrow, it will be the longest set we perform that evening, as well as the most musically and vocally demanding. I previewed the final song of the cycle, Demain fera un an, at a Community Music Center concert this past Friday, and the audience was astonished at how forward-sounding and large-in-scale her one song was in comparison to the other songs written by her male colleagues and teachers that we performed that afternoon.

While there were other female composers during the time of Lili's life, Lili stands apart as a trailblazer, which is remarkable considering that she died at the young age of 24.  At just 19 years old, she was the first woman to win the prestigious Prix du Rome in 1913, ten years after the ban on female contestants was lifted. The Prix du Rome was an important competition that launched the careers of many a famous French composer, including those of Debussy, Massenet, Bizet and Gounod. During the years of the Belle époque, female composers were mostly only permitted to write simple parlor music and most often eventually assumed roles as music teachers (such as Lili's hugely influential sister, Nadia) or stopped composing altogether after marriage (like Alma Mahler, who's only surviving compositions are roughly 15 art songs which were composed before her marriage to Gustav). The lifting of the ban on female competitors opened the door for women to begin pursuing careers as serious composers who would write larger scale works. Lili did this upon her historic victory, and she did so with a compositional voice that was distinctive, sophisticated and boundary-pushing. Had she lived longer, one wonders where her pioneering vision might have taken music history over the course of last century.

Both Myra and I have fallen in love with Lili's songs as we have prepared this new program, and we can't wait to dive further into her music in the coming seasons. Lili's music is important, beautiful and transfixing - one doesn't need the excuse of an anniversary to program it.  It should be performed all the time and on any occasion - just like we perform Bernstein and Beethoven whenever we wish. Nonetheless, it is a wonderful thing that we will get to fête her tomorrow night at the Herbst during this centenary year of her death. If you're in the Bay Area, we hope to see you there. 

In the meantime, here is a youtube video of Lili's final composition: her Pie Jesu for voice, string quartet, harp and organ: