I've been re-reading Patrick
Turner's scholarly book on Elgar's Variations
on an Original Theme (Enigma) Op. 36 [1]. He explains how the piece acquired
its title and also puts forward an explanation of the enigma – that the
variations originated with the French folk melody to which we sing the nursery
rhyme Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star. As
Elgar never explained the origin of the Variations we will never know whether Turner
is correct, but we do know that Elgar played a tune to his wife, Alice, in the
manner of several of his friends and that this led to the dedication of the Variations by Elgar "to my friends
pictured within".
The link below is to the
acclaimed interpretation of the work by Toscanini.
Even if one knows little of the
origins of the piece, the Enigma
Variations are certainly popular and "Nimrod", the variation based
on Elgar's friend August Jaeger of the music publisher Novello, is the best
known. I knew it before I knew the rest of the piece, largely from hearing "Nimrod"
many times on radio programmes of music requests. We didn't have a record
player (this must sound so odd to readers brought up in the modern era) and it
wasn't until I was a student that I was able to buy an LP of the Enigma Variations and that began my
exploration of Elgar's beautiful and inspiring music.
I have already written about
Elgar and soul, complete with a tease that neuroscientists will never
understand how music affects the emotions [2], but I wanted to write more
after reading quotes in Turner's book [1]. The first came from the conductor
Leopold Stokowski after he conducted the Variations
in Philadelphia and New York in 1929:
We had not
played them for four seasons, and the impression I received from them was of
such depth of feeling and beauty that I was stirred by this music far more
profoundly than I can express in words. Often when we play a work after not
having heard it for several seasons, we have the impression of its being the
expression of another period and of being alien to the life of today. But your
Variations gave me the most powerful impression of eternal vitality and architectural
design – and also something very difficult to express, a floating upward into a
mystical level where time and space seem to cease.
The other quote is from Turner
himself:
..I never cease
to wonder what it was about Elgar that enabled him to produce music which
succeeds in moving me in a way in which no other music does. What is the strange
alchemy that draws people to his music and, once drawn, traps them?
Both quotes imply that Elgar had
a special quality that enabled him to communicate something deep and intimate. I
alluded to this in the earlier post [2], yet I have no idea whether the
moving feelings that I have when listening to the piece are the same as those that Stokowski,
Turner and many others describe. The imagery that I have must be personal, yet
the result is the same for all of us – almost being in contact with a higher
sense. What is the rational explanation of that and why is Elgar so good at creating
that feeling? It's another enigma.
[1] Patrick Turner (1999) Elgar's 'Enigma' Variations – a centenary
celebration. London, Thames Publishing.
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