Tragic Inspiration
For many contemporary Canadian composers, the only thing harder than writing
a major orchestral work is to have it performed. Neither feat seems particularly
difficult for Toronto's Oskar Morawetz, who is both prolific and widely
performed. In the last year, there have been seven premières of Morawetz
compositions, including two choral works for Toronto's Festival Singers, a
sinfonietta conducted by Karel Ancerl with the Toronto Symphony and two violin
and piano preludes. But of all his recent works, none has involved the
53-year-old Czech-born composer more deeply than From the Diary of Anne
Frank, which was given its first performance last week by Soprano Lois
Marshall and the Toronto Symphony.
Like several of his works, Anne Frank is Morawetz's deeply felt
response to a tragic event. What particularly moved him about the diary of the
courageous Dutch-Jewish girl was her concern for a former school friend, Lies
Goosens. Lies was taken away to a Nazi concentration camp while the Frank family
was hiding in Amsterdam. Anne's grief over her friend's fate, and her fervent
prayer for her safety, form Morawetz's poignant text. The composer's stark vocal
line and powerful orchestral writing show a similar intensity. Based on a
plaintive descending motif that emerges in various colors and moods, the
19-minute composition conveys a somber, dissonant despair that was heightened in
last week's performance by Lois Marshall's highly dramatic interpretation. But
for all its sadness, Anne Frank culminates on a note of hope. As Soprano
Marshall sings "I pray for all the Jews and for all those in need," the muted,
dissonant brass harmonies give way to a major triad which comes almost as
musical discovery.
Triple Threat. As the eight-year-old son of a Czech textile
manufacturer, Morawetz was told by his first piano teacher not to bother with
lessons because he had no talent. A second teacher in Prague encouraged him, and
it was not long before he became something of a child prodigy. Blessed with
perfect pitch and a photographic memory, Morawetz had decided to become a
conductor, a composer and concert pianist all at once. By the time he was 21 he
had been offered a post at the Prague opera house, but instead chose to travel.
At the start of World War II he moved from Paris to Italy, then was forced to
join the rest of his family who had fled to Canada. He left Europe on the
penultimate boat to sail before Mussolini entered the war. "When I wrote Anne
Frank," he recalls "all those old fears came back."
Although he has a doctorate from the University of Toronto, Morawetz claims
he is largely a self-taught composer. His first two major compositions, written
in 1945 and '46, each won a Composers, Authors and Publishers Association of
Canada prize for the best work composed that year. In the 1950s, black Soprano
Dorothy Maynor sang Morawetz's songs, and had him orchestrate them. Three years
ago, the Russian cellist, Mstislav Rostropovich, commissioned a cello piece from
Morawetz, asking that it not resemble any known musical form and not use the
traditional full orchestra. Morawetz's response was a work based on the
assassination of Martin Luther King. His only problem was that he wanted to
incorporate the spiritual Free at Last, whose words are carved on King's
tomb, but he could not find it in Toronto. He called old friend Maynor, and
transcribed the music while she sang it over the phone. Now at the height of his
powers, and with a body of 50 works behind him, Morawetz has only one serious
musical regret: that he has not yet written a full-length opera. But, he sighs,
"I am not going to dedicate four years of my life to writing an opera only to
find that there is only one Canadian company that can stage it for only three
days."
