Carl Orff wrote six operas, ten pieces of incidental theater music, and a highly-regarded series of instructional works for young musicians. He also wrote a trilogy of staged cantatas called Trionfi ("Triumphs") based on secular poems written in Latin and medieval German. Yet the only piece of music by Carl Orff you or I will likely ever hear is the first of those three cantatas, Carmina Burana, which the BSO and the Tanglewood Festival Chorus performed at Tanglewood last night under Rafael Frübeck de Burgos. The reasons for this are as complex as orchestras themselves, but have at least as much to do with Carmina Burana's appropriation by popular culture (via video games, movies, and TV shows) as the piece's inherent musical merit.
Still, Carmina Burana packs a wallop, even after hearing it for the third time in about a year. Orff set out to write a piece that was immediately accessible, full of driving rhythms and straightforward melodies that would resonate with even the most unseasoned listener. The poems he uses sing the pleasures/torments of the flesh: food, drink, nature, sex. The majority of Carmina Burana recounts the courtship of a young virgin, and her eventual submission to "the sweet yoke" of love.
But then, just as love seems triumphant, the chorus repeats the stark, ominous ode to Fate that began Carmina Burana some ninety minutes earlier:
| O Fortuna, | O Fortune, |
| velut luna | like the moon |
| statu variabilis, | you are fickle, |
| semper crescis | ever waxing |
| aut decrescis; | and waning; |
| vita detestabilis | loathsome life |
| nunc obdurat | first oppresses |
| et tunc curat | and then soothes |
| ludo mentis aciem, | as whim takes it; |
| egestatem, | poverty |
| potestatem | and power |
| dissolvit ut glaciem. | dissolve like ice. |
| Sors immanis | Fate – monstrous |
| et inanis, | and empty, |
| rota tu volubilis, | you whirling wheel, |
| status malus, | you are malevolent… |
| nunc per ludum | through this game |
| dorsum nudum | I bare my nakedness |
| fero tui sceleris. | to your evil. |
| Sors salutis | Fate opposes me |
| et virtutis | in health |
| michi nunc contraria, | and virtue, |
| est affectus | driven on |
| et defectus | and weighted down, |
| semper in angaria. | always enslaved. |
| Hac in hora | So at this hour |
| sine mora | without delay |
| corde pulsum tangite; | pluck the vibrating strings; |
| quod per sortem | since Fate |
| sternit fortem, | cuts down the strong, |
| mecum omnes plangite! | all weep with me! |
I can't think of a more devastating, frightening moment in music. Right when all seems joyous and triumphant, Orff says: It means nothing. There is no order, no design to the universe. Whatever happiness you find today will be overcome by tragedy and heartbreak tomorrow. And, all the while, cymbals are crashing, trumpets are blaring, and the chorus is singing almost to the point of shouting. If that doesn't scare the crap out of you, nothing will.
Whether or not the text got through to the Shed crowd last night is questionable, as marked by their delirious standing ovation. For all those not of the Senior or Married tribe, better to cower in dread. (More pics below.)