Adagio for Strings
Samuel Barber (1910-81)
In common with Aaron Copland’s ‘Fanfare for the Common Man’, Samuel Barber’s hugely popular ‘Adagio for Strings’ is closely associated with America and things American. It lies among the natural choices of music for sad and reflective occasions, vying in solemnity with ‘Nimrod’ from Sir Edward Elgar’s ‘Enigma Variations’. It is also the antithesis of Copland’s assertive Fanfare. Having originated as the slow movement of a String Quartet, the Adagio has become better known in its orchestral version, with added double basses and fuller scoring. Like the fanfare, it has been recast, sometimes inappropriately, although Barber’s own 1967 version, a setting of the Agnus Dei for choir with optional organ accompaniment, is still performed. ‘Barber remains one of the most attractive personalities in American music, uninfluenced by current fashions but by no means to be dismissed as old-fashioned.’ So wrote Charles Osborne in the 1970s. The Adagio contributes more to this verdict on Barber’s reputation than any other of his works. The sad and wistful nature of the music seems almost to prophesy Barber’s unhappy decline, his final years being blighted by depression and alcoholism.
The Adagio comprises a theme that seems to ‘unwind’ perpetually, tracing an arc, a musical rainbow, supported by graceful yet poignant harmonies. Rather beyond the half-way point of this eight-minute work, the tension increases. Having begun like an exquisite aria by Vincenzo Bellini, the melody is transformed into a cry of passion, of agony indeed, followed by one of the most expressive silences in all music. As though in resignation, the calm of the opening returns and the movement ends with a sigh, a whispered amen.
Samuel Barber (1910-81)
In common with Aaron Copland’s ‘Fanfare for the Common Man’, Samuel Barber’s hugely popular ‘Adagio for Strings’ is closely associated with America and things American. It lies among the natural choices of music for sad and reflective occasions, vying in solemnity with ‘Nimrod’ from Sir Edward Elgar’s ‘Enigma Variations’. It is also the antithesis of Copland’s assertive Fanfare. Having originated as the slow movement of a String Quartet, the Adagio has become better known in its orchestral version, with added double basses and fuller scoring. Like the fanfare, it has been recast, sometimes inappropriately, although Barber’s own 1967 version, a setting of the Agnus Dei for choir with optional organ accompaniment, is still performed. ‘Barber remains one of the most attractive personalities in American music, uninfluenced by current fashions but by no means to be dismissed as old-fashioned.’ So wrote Charles Osborne in the 1970s. The Adagio contributes more to this verdict on Barber’s reputation than any other of his works. The sad and wistful nature of the music seems almost to prophesy Barber’s unhappy decline, his final years being blighted by depression and alcoholism.
The Adagio comprises a theme that seems to ‘unwind’ perpetually, tracing an arc, a musical rainbow, supported by graceful yet poignant harmonies. Rather beyond the half-way point of this eight-minute work, the tension increases. Having begun like an exquisite aria by Vincenzo Bellini, the melody is transformed into a cry of passion, of agony indeed, followed by one of the most expressive silences in all music. As though in resignation, the calm of the opening returns and the movement ends with a sigh, a whispered amen.