My ode to the noble tuba
Robin Holloway
Tuesday, October 6, 2015
Europa & the Bull, a concertante work for tuba and orchestra, was initially inspired by my love of the noble solo instrument that is usually confined to roaring or brooding at the bottom of the brass section, plus admiration for some outstanding players of it when a rare moment of exposure reveals, as well as sheer power, their powers of cantabile and eloquence.
I have particular sympathy for the Cinderella instruments of lower tessitura and have already composed concertos for viola, bassoon and double bass. The reason they haven’t inherited a glittering repertoire is obvious: there are issues of audibility and variety but I see these as challenges to be overcome. The tuba is essentially a low horn occupying a bass register and, so as not to incur rivalry, my orchestration omits trombones but all four horns are present, extending the same family tone-colour into higher registers. A pair of trumpets adds the edge and brilliance that the tuba doesn’t command.
In terms of writing for the tuba, the composer has to handle the instrument with care. The stamina required is colossal and a lot of breath is necessary to project a noble singing line. I took this practical aspect on right from the start and was careful to allow as much breathing space as there are notes. The tuba is surprisingly nimble and its ability to play sequences of very rapid notes has been used by composers for theatrical or comic effect – you only have to think of the arrangement of the Flight of the Bumblebee or Tubby the Tuba – but my intention was to put this agility to use in a more serious frame, alongside the instrument’s lyrical qualities.
The other inspiration for the work came from Ovid and specifically the Metamorphoses where I read his account of the myth of Europa and Jupiter and realised it was ideal imagery for the tuba. The Roman writer was a contemporary of Christ so both their tales are now into their third millennium of influence. Artists, poets and composers drawing on Metamorphoses across the centuries range from Chaucer, Titian and Shakespeare, through the French Baroque to Britten and Ted Hughes. Dittersdorf composed six symphonies after Ovid’s tales and I can imagine future works of mine exploring other myths, possibly a flute concerto on Narcissus and Echo or a trumpet concerto on Phaeton and Phoebus.
Perhaps Europa & the Bull should be called a scena: it relates Jupiter's lustful hankering for the beautiful nymph Europa, his wooing her in the form of a bull, his plunging off with her into the turbulent ocean, his having his wicked way and gratifying her, willing or unwilling, and thus the foundation of the continent born of his incontinence.
This scenario is followed closely through the new work, with the soloist, of course, as the Bull/God - priapic, magnificent, irresistible yet also demonstrating a gentler, winning nature. The final sections reveal the once-furious Bull now metamorphosed into the nymph herself and a vista of the fruitful terrain born of the enforced conjunction summoned through a solemn hymnic apotheosis: Europe shimmers into a futurity glowing with Hope. So, whereas, many of the Metamorphoses close in disaster or tragedy, the end of this tale is benign and even optimistic. We view the creation of a new continent, the assembling of an international identity, and in our own time a golden shower of new coinage, but perhaps that is another myth altogether.
Robin Holloway's Europa & the Bull will be premiered by Robin Haggart with the Royal Liverpool Philharmonic Orchestra, conducted by Andrew Manze, on October 8 at Liverpool's Philharmonic Hall. Visit liverpoolphil.com for further information.
(Photo of Robin Holloway courtesy of Charlie Troman)