Contemporary composer: Thomas Larcher

Hattie Butterworth
Friday, June 7, 2024

In both speaking with the Austrian composer and exploring his music, Hattie Butterworth finds a powerful honesty of experience

Composer Thomas Larcher | Photo: Eduardus Lee

‘Often the mountain gives itself most completely when I have no destination, when I reach nowhere in particular, but have gone out merely to be with the mountain as one visits a friend with no intention but to be with him.’

Even brief out-of-context iterations from Nan Shepherd’s book The Living Mountain (1942; published 1977) are testament to its timeless genius. Short and full of distinct imagery describing the barren landscape of the Cairngorm Mountains in Scotland, it’s been a dependable Christmas present for many people in my life. But its message is one that goes beyond a piece of nature writing and continues to infiltrate, albeit unassumingly, the worlds of philosophy, theology, science and feminism.

It’s a piece of writing from which Austrian composer Thomas Larcher’s latest disc takes its name. His homonymous work for soprano and ensemble was commissioned by the Concertgebouw, Amsterdam, and Wigmore Hall, London, and composed in 2019-20 following Larcher’s discovery of Shepherd’s book in German translation. ‘It’s very different from other so-called nature writing,’ he told me. ‘I don’t know what it is – maybe because it was written by a woman? It opened up a new world.’

‘When I was younger, I had this illusion of nature as a retreat, but I sadly must say that I’m afraid it’s not true any more’

The work was premiered in April 2022 at the Concertgebouw with the Asko|Schönberg ensemble. Its five main parts set text from various sections of Shepherd’s work. On the ensuing recording, released in October 2023, one can hear French Cypriot soprano Sarah Aristidou plus flute, strings, percussion, piano and accordion evoking the landscape through pulsating percussive crescendos, rhythmic contrast and soaring string melodies.

Born in Innsbruck in 1963, Larcher grew up in the Austrian Tyrol, and studied composition with Erich Urbanner and piano with Heinz Medjimorec and Elisabeth Leonskaja at the University of Music and Performing Arts, Vienna (1981-86). The musical environment of his youth was dominated primarily by the standard classics that he was exploring on the piano – repertoire ranging from Bach to Brahms; during his adolescence, Bartók was the reigning modern, and jazz also played a major role.

As a pianist, he became known as a particularly illuminating performer of the music of our time. This led to his founding of two new-music festivals: Klangspuren Schwaz in 1994; and the Musik im Riesen chamber music festival in Wattens in 2003. Larcher recalls that this was a time of ‘running around in suits and meeting politicians … At one point I found that I had lost myself completely. I had to ask myself, “Are you a concert promoter or are you a musician?” In the end, the answer for me was very clear – that I was a musician.’ (Both those festivals have finished, but he this year launched ‘listening closely’, a festival exploring the interface between classical, contemporary music, jazz and literature.)

The Living Mountain demonstrates the deeply personal angle of Larcher’s music. As a human, he is refreshingly honest about his own experiences within composition, early life as a solo pianist and the impact of climate change he is seeing in the mountains of Austria, where he lives and works. ‘When I was younger, I had this illusion of nature as a retreat, but I sadly must say that I’m afraid it’s not true any more.’ Larcher goes on to tell me about preparations he’s seeing for the new ski season on the Austrian glaciers, with machines piling up tonnes of snow to make sure everything is ready for the skiing World Cup. An avid mountaineer and skier himself, he finds relief and solace in the rugged nature of the terrain. Still, he is a realist and reminds me of the reality of nature, climate change and loneliness, and how nature can be both beautiful and terrifying.

Encouraged by friends such as conductor and pianist Dennis Russell Davies and pianist Lars Vogt, as well as ECM’s Manfred Eicher, Larcher started to pursue composition further and found that there were people who were interested in his work. Beginning with the familiar sound world of the piano, he proved himself adept at crossing boundaries of specific styles. In the early works Naunz (1989) for piano solo, Kraken (1994-97) for piano trio, Ixxu (1998-2004) for string quartet, Mumien (2001) for cello and piano and My illness is the medicine I need (2002) for soprano and piano trio he established new benchmarks in piano and chamber music literature, using elaborate rhythmic note patterns and original instrumental techniques.

Larcher maps the beginning of his success as a composer on My illness is the medicine I need, which was recorded on ECM in 2005 as part of ‘Ixxu’, a profile album of Larcher chamber works. A magazine article with interviews from mental hospital patients revealed to him the inspiration for the work. Beguiled by the blurring of the line between sanity and madness, Larcher was drawn to set the text: ‘It made me question who are the so-called crazy people – and who are the normal people?’

It was in solo concertos that Larcher first began using the colourful timbres of the orchestra, beginning with viola concerto Still (2002, rev 2008). He wrote his Violin Concerto (2008-09) for Isabelle Faust and his cello concerto Ouroboros (2015) for Jean-Guihen Queyras (it was later recorded by Alisa Weilerstein). His most recent concerto collaboration is the Piano Concerto (2020-21) for Kirill Gerstein, which had its world premiere with Semyon Bychkov and the Czech Philharmonic in April 2021.

Larcher has been celebrated for the way in which his orchestral music is rooted in the symphonic tradition while also pushing at the boundaries of conventional structure. This is seen in his first ‘symphony’, Alle Tage (2010-15) for baritone and orchestra. Symphony No 2 (Kenotaph) soon followed, written in 2015-16 as an artistic witness to the ongoing refugee crisis. Most recently, the work has been picked up by Klaus Mäkelä, who toured it with the Oslo Philharmonic and the Concergebouw Orchestra in January and February of this year.

Larcher’s three-act opera Das Jagdgewahr (‘The Hunting Gun’) was written 2016-18 using a German translation of text from Japanese writer Yasushi Inoue’s novella. Commissioned by the Bregenz Festival in Austria, it was premiered at the 2018 festival with Ensemble Modern, appearing at the Aldeburgh Festival the following year. Writing about his opera, Larcher places himself alongside the listener in this journey of human emotion, saying: ‘It addresses questions encountered and recognised by absolutely everyone involved in relationships with other individuals, myself included, such as whether to stay or leave, speak out or stay silent, hold on or let go.’

To summarise Larcher’s vast career is to touch so many corners of the contemporary music world. He’s a composer who works methodically and slowly, his scores demonstrating visually his attention to detail, their density of orchestration unlike much in our contemporary classical music landscape. His compositional process, he tells me, often includes many revisions, and when something is completed, it feels like a moment in time to which he no longer fully relates: ‘It’s old music by the time it’s being played.’ But it appears that composing is a part of life that makes Larcher feel most alive, one that usurped the ‘restless’ existence of a solo pianist: ‘As a composer, you develop an attention towards sounds and towards your surroundings. It’s very rich, but you lead a lonely life.’

It’s this honesty about his experience that makes Larcher such a personable, reassuring musician – never one to wax lyrical about the bounty of the profession for the sake of it: ‘People are always dreaming of being in nature and being alone – there’s a shining warm self in thinking about it. But when they are completely alone, they panic. It’s lovelier to be alone on Instagram and in the picture than in reality.’

LISTENING TO LARCHER 

‘IXXU’

Andrea Lauren Brown sop Christoph Poppen vn Thomas Demenga vc Thomas Larcher pf / Rosamunde Quartet

ECM New Series

This chamber music album maps Larcher’s early exploration as a composer, featuring his irst two string quartets, Cold Farmer (1999) and Ixxu, alongside the highly original songcycle My illness is the medicine I need, with Larcher on the piano.

 

‘What Becomes’

Mark Padmore ten Thomas Larcher, Tamara Stefanovich pfs

Harmonia Mundi

Testament to Larcher’s strong artistic partnerships and collaborations, this recording again sees him on the keyboard, this time alongside Mark Padmore for the acclaimed A Padmore Cycle (2010-11). Three works for solo piano, including the 2009 title-track, are played by Tamara Stefanovich.

‘Die Nacht der Verlorenen / Symphony No 2 "Kenotaph"’

Andrè Schuen bar Finnish Radio Symphony Orchestra / Hannu Lintu

Ondine

About Kenotaph, Larcher has said, ‘I do not believe that art conveys messages, but asks questions.’

‘The Living Mountain’

Sarah Aristidou sop Andrè Schuen bar Alisa Weilerstein vc Daniel Heide, Aaron Pilsan pf Luka Juhart acc Munich CO / Clemens Schuldt

ECM New Series

In this latest recording, Larcher’s recent successes are framed by The Living Mountain for soprano and ensemble. Alongside it are the cello concerto Ouroboros and Unerzählt (2018-21) for baritone and piano.

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