Henri TOMASI by Emile VUILLERMOZ |
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In French country gardens there grows a small flower that most people here know by its picturesque nickname, Le Désepoir du Peintre, Painter’s Despair. Few of us are familiar with its true name. Having been invited to sketch the curious personality of Henri Tomasi, I find that he is the person among all people who deserves to be compared to this small saxifrage which, through the variety, multiplicity and subtle detail of its forms and colors disheartens the professional artist. The portrait maker is here confronted with an utterly disconcerting model, for the latter presents the observer with an appearance that is consistently changing and contradictory. As soon as a careful sketch of this protean artist has been drawn, it must be torn to bits because it offers an incomplete and false image of the full prism of his gifts. One would need to have all of the nuances of the rainbow at one’s disposal. (...) One cannot hope to classify Henri Tomasi in a precise category of creators. All that can be said without betraying him is that lyricism is the basis of his ideal, and that this lyricism has led him to discover a musical vocabulary of a potency, freedom and dynamism that are simply exceptional. Tomasi undertakes his major works for theater at a period when the other composers of his generation wrestle laboriously with ideals of form, theory and system that are instinctively oriented towards austerity, ascetics and abstraction. Throughout the world, devoted as they are to pessimism and angst, the sons are now unconsciously doing penance for the sins of sensuality, gluttony of the ear and voluptuous hedonism committed by their fathers. They abide by an obscure law, the pendulum principle, whose automatic movement human morality has reliably reproduced over the centuries. The author of Don Juan de Mañara openly rebels against these attitudes of contrition and penitence. The virtuosity of his writing could have allowed him to shine effortlessly in all of the exercises of grammatical acrobatics made fashionable by the epigones of two audacious theoreticians who were also composers of genius [Schoenberg and Berg] : This does not interest him. Observe the face of this slight Corsican whose determined lips and chin speak for his stubborn energy, and whose eyes, fixed like automobile headlights on men and things, ardently illuminate the future – this mask belongs to a fellow who knows what he wants and who has decided that his independence must be respected. He has based this independence on a few solid and courageous principles. As a Mediterranean islander, his goal is to protect the sort of traditional ethnic resources that a Wagnerian philosopher such as Nietzsche admired in our Georges Bizet. He stakes his claim through color, light, fervor, emotion and overt passion. He declares his love for the most flexible and sensitive of the musical instruments: the human voice and, consequently, his taste for beautiful and expressive melodic arabesques. He doesn’t attempt to struggle against the laws of lyrical theater or to outsmart them – he accepts and respects them with honesty. What he wants is an orchestra that is opulent, lavish, passionate, vibrating with all possible nuances, throbbing with all of its pathetic howls, capable of feeling and expressing anything and everything. He refuses all of the dogmas and biases belonging to the ‘harmonic, polyphonic or instrumental professions’. Each of his lyrical opuses is written with its libretto firmly in mind and he is prepared to change styles whenever he deems it necessary. He doesn’t tackle theater with a symphonic composer’s mind. He doesn’t follow Stravinsky’s blasphemous proclamation that, “music can not and must not express anything for, as soon as it expresses something, it ceases to be music.” Au contraire, Tomasi is attached to proving that music can and must render everything in its own sublime language as long as it is not reduced to a stereotypical vocabulary. And he proved it, emphatically, through all of his works for theater. It seems that in Corsica, Henri Tomasi has assimilated certain elements of the Arab civilization. He has an Oriental concept of instrumental color and tone along with the powerful rhythmic mesmerism; he uses a fascinating monotony in small musical phrases that are repeated with diabolical skill. But against this violently colorful tonal background he is capable of giving human voice an incredibly touching expression. He easily finds the lyrical expression of every imaginable passion, and his translation is highly communicative thanks to the sincerity of his emotion. Henri Tomasi is a living example of sincerity, loyalty and courage in an era where these virtues are becoming extinct, replaced by the more lucrative opportunism fostered by snobbery. Nowadays, he is ‘recompensed’ by a series of brilliant successes. Let us rejoice in the fact that Destiny, generally so capricious, has been so unexpectedly clairvoyant. Emile VUILLERMOZ La Revue Musicale n° 230, 1956 |
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VERCORS |
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VERCORS praises Henri Tomasi (1971) “The work and the man were of a pair. Modesty aside, the self-same qualities attracted me to both: rigor, vitality, daring, but also finesse and an unshakeable frankness. All this, plus his great fortitude: ten years earlier, adversity had hit him in a musician’s most sensitive spot, the ear. While he didn’t become deaf, like Beethoven, his hearing was forever distorted. Finding the original resonance of sounds while he was composing was a constant struggle, but he never allowed his disorder to have a negative impact on his work, which he continued to create with the same determination and success.” Guitare et Musique - January 1971 n° 65 VERCORS – A Tribute to Henri Tomasi (1986) In response to the Oppression that Music has been the victim of for nearly a half-century, at least one rebel, one fierce opponent, has made his stand, and that daring fellow is none other than Henri Tomasi. One needed – one still needs – to be spiritually bold – even socially so – to maintain, despite overwhelming mass pressure, musical art in the beauteous ‘sweet to the ear’ tones of its original definition, in the authenticity of its earliest dignity, when even the word ‘harmony’ is the stuff of jest and excommunication. And that is why, in addition to my consideration for Henri Tomasi’s talent, I will always have a particularly great esteem and gratitude towards the man of conviction and courage that I knew him to be. Let it not be thought that the aforementioned sentiments and the appreciative consideration that I have for his music come from the fact that he wrote the score for my text, Le Silence de la Mer. On the contrary: if I gave him the authorization to transform my writing into that lovely cantata, it was because I was already familiar with his immense talent, and because the effect it had on me was that I wanted to meet the musician himself. This pleasure was only granted me towards the end of his life. From the first time we met, a deep understanding was forged between us. In nearly every branch of art and philosophy (I use ‘nearly’ as a mere formality), we were in perfect agreement. And through the image he had of his art, I recognized that he was guiding me in mine: the same taste for clarity and measure, the same dedication to finesse. I am not a musicologist – simply a modest concert goer. It is therefore impossible for me – without being pretentious – to undertake an analytical study of Henri Tomasi’s music, no more than I would care to wax poetic about his symphonic and instrumental techniques. I can only bear witness to the great pleasure that his music gives me. After his death, it was overlooked for a time – the destiny of many a creator and his art. It is now being rediscovered and this delights me for several reasons: first and foremost because this renaissance is an acknowledgment of the great value of this moving, worthy collection; and because the music-loving public will now get a chance to hear it again; and finally, because, to take up again where I left off in the beginning, it is proof that ‘acoustics’ have not succeeded in killing off, in contemporary music, every last piece written with a respect for harmony. And for this reason, above all others, anyone who remains attached to this form of art will surely agree that Henri Tomasi was well worthy of Music. Vercors |
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In honor of Henri TOMASI by Marcel MIHALOVICI |
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When did I first meet Henri TOMASI? 48, 50 years ago? I don’t remember. All I know is that we were both students at the time – he went to the Conservatoire, I to the Scola. We immediately used ‘tu’ with each other. My friendship towards Tomasi was sincere, and I believe he felt the same. He was a perfect musician. A musician who was endowed with freedom, freedom in its noblest sense. He was free in choosing his modes of expression and in being so, he was always faithful to himself, constantly. Still, he paid close attention to all of the innovations, disciplines and techniques that our era has produced. He was free in his musical tastes, because he could love different forms of music and be interested in them, even if they went beyond the expressive or formal framework that he had elected to convey what he believed had to be said. What composer doesn’t lock himself into a chosen structure? But are there many who, like Tomasi, have an ear and an eye generous enough to accept the existence of music that oversteps the boundaries of their own esthetic viewpoints? He was a musician who lived for his art and his art alone, and he served it with the passion, sincerity, honesty and talent that belong to those who, unbeknownst to themselves, are working for posterity. Marcel Mihalovici Guitare et Musique n° 65, January, 1971 |
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By Henri DUTILLEUX (1971) |
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I loved and respected Henri TOMASI as much for his human qualities as for the liveliness of his artistic talent. An ardent, passionate musician, his reputation as a ‘character’ stretched beyond the esthetic discrepancies that can separate artists whose individual experience takes them on divergent paths. What struck me about Henri Tomasi’s personality was that he never ceased – however busy he was with his personal projects - to be interested in current events of every domain. He was always accessible, and would artlessly state his opinion, express his fears or his revolt concerning a variety of events that a hypersensitive nature such as his simply couldn’t overlook or ignore. Reunited in their sorrow, all of Henri Tomasi’s friends have, I am certain, the same wish: that efforts made in recent times in France finally succeed in giving his lyrical composition the recognition it deserves. Henri Dutilleux “Guitare et Musique” n° 65, January, 1971 |
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Henri
TOMASI |
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| “We quickly became great friends. You
know that he was frank, loyal and cheerful, a companion who was never jealous
or envious. He always delighted in his friends’ success.
“He was an indefatigable worker – a true model for others – his own taskmaster! As a boy, he arose early, did all his schoolwork and when he arrived at the Conservatoire, he handed in a fugue a week. I would like to make this clear because it shows just how hard he worked – he handed in new compositions on a regular basis despite his after-hours job at the Hotel Lutetia. He played for patrons twice a week because he needed the money – he would stay until 3am so the customers could dance. “He had a hard job of it when he was young. He lived in a student’s room – I remember it perfectly – in Montmartre, Rue Lavieuville. I often visited him there. He also came over to my place – I was lucky enough to live with my parents. You know that his folks lived in Marseille and that he came from a working-class family. His father was employed at the post office, but that didn’t keep him from transcribing Corsican melodies – at home I still have a collection of ‘Popular Corsican Songs’ harmonized by Xavier Tomasi, Henri’s father, whose family roots were in Corsica and whom I often saw in Paris, actually.” “Henri TOMASI speaks
of himself” France-Musique, March 29, 1972 |
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A
Letter by Manuel ROSENTHAL (1999) |
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| Dear Friend,
It is with pleasure that I grant you the right to add my name to the Honorary Committee that will celebrate Henri Tomasi’s centennial. In the following lines, you will find a text concerning the personality of your father. With my best wishes. “It is the École Française’s responsibility
to appropriately celebrate the memory of Henri Tomasi and the extremely
remarkable musician that he was. “Let us not forget that his talent as a composer was seconded by his qualities as a conductor who was exceedingly popular with the musical public. “May the musical world – which has forgotten him far too easily – be reminded of all this during the year to come.” Manuel Rosenthal |
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Henri
Tomasi’s operas, |
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| When I was just beginning my career at the
Palais Garnier in the 1960s, I often listened to my colleagues, who were
already far more knowledgeable than I, discuss what they were singing outside
of the Opera.
I noticed that when they spoke of interesting new pieces, Henri Tomasi’s name came up quite often and it was obvious that the composer was well-loved by his performers. It is true that his work brims with luxuriant compositions, his symphonic pieces as well as his more intimate chamber music. He was also an excellent composer for voice, which is rare indeed. He has left us with some lyrical works of fine quality – Don Juan de Mañara, l’Atlantide and Le Silence de la Mer are cases in point. Now that we are celebrating the hundred-year anniversary of his birth, 2001 is the perfect opportunity for paying this great composer, a shining star of French contemporary music, our sincere respects. José Van Dam |
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| English translation by Pamela White |