Alejo Carpentier

Start Free Trial

Music as a Structural Component in Alejo Carpentier's Concierto Barroco and The Lost Steps

Download PDF PDF Page Citation Cite Share Link Share

Last Updated August 12, 2024.

SOURCE: "Music as a Structural Component in Alejo Carpentier's Concierto Barroco and The Lost Steps," in Romance Languages Annual, Vol. 4, 1992, pp. 438-41.

[In the following essay, Feigenbaum examines the function of music in Concierto barroco and in the novel The Lost Steps.]

In an essay published in El Nacional, April 8, 1948, Alejo Carpentier used the term "marvelous American reality" in referring to the Latin American novel. In 1925, however, the European critic Franz Roh had introduced the comparable term "magical realism." "Magical realism" has been especially applied to narrative fiction. It highlights the effect caused by juxtapositions of two or more elements that are not conventionally associated, thus producing a dialectic of sorts, fusing thesis and antithesis into a synthesis. "Marvelous American reality" goes one step further by attempting to incorporate the search to define an American identity.

Alejo Carpentier juxtaposes several themes in his narrative in order to illustrate Latin American identity or consciousness. Music and time are interwoven in the structure of his works. He uses both themes in a somewhat unconventional manner in order to unravel his concept of Latin American identity and his constant obsession with the search for it. Just as Borges uses historical events but then rewrites history to suit esthetic purposes, Carpentier uses music and time to do the same.

Alejo Carpentier lived twenty years of his adult life in France. He was a music critic as well as a composer and, while there, came into contact with many prominent composers such as Edgar Varése and André Jolivet. As a result, music has played an important role in his works. Concierto Barroco (1974) serves as an example of Carpentier's narrative technique in relation to his use of music. Our interest will lie with regard to his treatment of music to the literary aspect of the work. We will examine the function of music in Concierto Barroco, question its similarities to The Lost Steps, and discuss whether music serves the same purpose in both works.

Music is one of the components which unifies Carpentier's work. The very title Concierto Barroco bears out such a statement. The title represents the work as a whole in the sense that it not only refers to music but encompasses many other artistic elements. It is the first example which shows that music serves several purposes in the work: it acts as a constant reference to historical dates, paintings, book titles and so forth.

A "concierto barroco" can also be referred to as a concerto grosso. The latter is characterized by the use of a small group of solo instruments (concertino) counterposed against a full orchestra (tutti). The instruments are therefore playing in counterpoint. By applying this concept to the actual plot of the work, one can draw on several parallels. Carpentier does not use the title Concierto Barroco only to refer to a musical style, but also to describe human and social relationships: the characters in the novel are representations of the instruments in a concerto grosso. The plot is fairly simple. The reader embarks on a trip to Europe with the Mexican Master and his Black servant Filomeno (a setting which can not help but recall the Don Quixote/Sancho Panza relationship). Deceived by the musical offerings of Madrid, they decide at once to travel to Venice. It is there that the most obvious dialogue between continents begin. Both characters come in contact with Vivaldi (the priest), Händel (the Saxon) and Scarlatti (the Neapolitan):

"Since I was born with this mask, I see no need to buy another," he [the Master] said laughing. "Inca?", he then asked, fingering in the Aztec emperor's glass beads. "Mexican" replied the master, launching into a lengthy tale which the priest, already deep in his cups, took to be about a king of giant beetles. (70)

That is to say that the criollo Master and his servant Filomeno could be regarded as the concertino while Vivaldi, Händel and Scarlatti represent the tutti. By the same token, the two continents, America and Europe, are set in counterpoint, thus reminding the reader once again of the concerto grosso style.

Note how the concept of polarization, which is recognizable in the structure of the concerto grosso, is also visible in the literary structure. Here we can see the extreme polarization of the two continents. The setting is the carnival; Filomeno remains undisguised, while the Master has taken on the appearance of Montezuma. The Master proceeds to tell the history of Montezuma, and Vivaldi immediately associates it with a possible stage setting for an opera: "Splendid for an opera! Nothing is lacking. There is work for the stagehands. A soprano—that Indian woman in love with a Christian—which we can give to one of the beautiful singers . . ." (90).

Already in that scene Vivaldi's motivation becomes apparent. He is not really responding to history but instead seeing how it could benefit him. Music is used as an instrument to unravel the characters' personalities. Music becomes each of the characters' identities. Just as Filomeno interprets music differently, with different rhythms and instruments, Vivaldi's representation of Montezuma represents a new interpretation. The concerto grosso has now become a fusion of baroque music and Afro-Cuban rhythms.

Another point of contact between the title Concierto Barroco and the work would, of course, be the concept of "barroquismo." The baroque term first appeared in the plastic arts and then in music. "Barroquismo" strives for the elimination of emptiness; it has a need for exaggerated adornment by multiplying the decorative elements. As Alejo Carpentier points out, "barroquismo" in relation to literature has taken on different dimensions when related to Latin America: it is the representation of contrasting styles, a tendency to fill what is empty with a mixture of decorative elements. According to the cited criteria, Carpentier not only uses the term Barroco for the title but his writing also proves to be wholly in accord with the title. We then come back to the premise that music represents an all-encompassing element of the work. The structure is circular, thus departing from music as the principal component and then returning to it at the close of the work.

Music is the tool which aids the writer in representing all other social concepts:

Since in that general concert there took part musicians of Castile and the Canaries, criollos and meztizos, narboríes and Negroes. "Whites and colored in that revel?" wondered the traveler. "An impossible harmony! Never could such a folly have occurred, for the noble old melodies of the romance and the subtle modulations and variations of good maestros would have married ill with the barbarous racket raised by Negroes when they set to work with their rattles, maracas and drums . . . ! (2: 54)

Here, Carpentier's mixing of musical elements serves to illustrate the mixing of different peoples. He is actually referring to opposing concepts of what music is or ought to be. Once again interpretation comes into play. To the Westerner, true music is that of the great masters, the intricate counterpoint and theoretical aspects rather than the banging on primitive instruments of inferior cultures. However, the scene here is somewhat revolutionary. Who would conceive of music as a hybrid of both cultures? Carpentier is perhaps representing music as the possibility of change. In the above quotation, there is a clear underlying message—music as an opportunity for change—thus bringing the individual to a cross-point: stasis versus mobility. This concept is seen throughout the work. The lack of mobility is apparent when the protagonist recalls the past, how music used to be regarded in relation to cultures, while mobility is seen through the protagonist's astonishment at the change. Nonetheless, the duality of stasis versus mobility is dealt with in the passage, it is obvious that the struggle between European and Latin American is not resolved in the work. What art is to the European does not prove to be the same for the Latin American. Carpentier illustrates the struggle not only by pointing out different musical interpretations but also by introducing the concept of time. Just as Borges plays with time by incorporating real historical elements with fiction, Carpentier's point of departure for the plot is also a verifiable historical event. Regarding the possible presence of Händel in Venice, Walter Kölneder in his book, Vivaldi: His Life and Work, says:

We do not know to what extent Händel was familiar with Vivaldi's music, but it is very probable that the two masters met personally during the years 1708-09, when Händel was staying in Venice. (quoted in Natella, 153)

Carpentier has three composers from the same epoch enter into dialogue at the Carnival; but later in the work he begins to include composers who had not yet lived in the times of Scarlatti, Vivaldi and Händel, such as Igor Stravinsky or Louis Armstrong. The inclusion of composers from different periods further denotes music as a symbol of evolution.

Carpentier also adds a twist of irony when the implied author has Vivaldi referring to Stravinsky as a "[g]ood musician, but at times very traditional in his approach" (94). First, Stravinsky's music is far from traditional in comparison to Vivaldi's, which was more conformist. Granted, Vivaldi did show some innovative qualities, but he nevertheless stayed within the tradition. Stravinsky, on the other hand was far more revolutionary in his style of composing; "The Rite of Spring" provides a fitting example. Then, the question remains as to why Carpentier would choose to include other musical greats in his narrative who are unrelated to the work's historical chronology. Perhaps it is to demonstrate the impossibility of separating political and socio-economic concepts as well as their interdependence, in the scrutiny of musical values. Last but not least is the confrontation between Vivaldi and the Master on the subject of the representation of the opera. The Master is appalled by the staging, the choice of singers and more importantly the resolution of the opera. On the other hand, Vivaldi is more concerned about serving his own purpose:

And yelling, "False, false, false, all false!" he [the Master] runs towards the Red Priest, who has finished folding the score and is mopping his forehead with a large checkered handkerchief. "What's false?", the startled musician asks. "Everything. That finale is ridiculous. History . . ." "The opera is none of the business of historians." ". . . It's not my fault that you people have Gods with names nobody can pronounce." (114-15)

The outburst of the Master shows the ultimate lack of understanding on the part of the musician. That opera does not reflect history is a somewhat legitimate concern for the musician who looks at art and the unity of action, but the reference to the "Mexican language" proves to be the last straw. Music does reflect on the characters' ideologies, and also on their cultural identity. The Master's trip has proven to be a search for his own identity. Who he was before he reached Europe was a mere idealized version of who he really turned out to be after his return home.

The Lost Steps touches upon similar themes. Hence, music also serves as a "crutch" for the representation of other themes. The work begins with a detailed description of a house:

Four years and seven months had passed since I had seen the white-pillared house, with austere pediment that gave it the serenity of a courthouse; now among the furniture and decorations, whose positions never varied, I had the distressing sensation that time had turned back. (4)

This first paragraph includes one of the most important themes broached in the work. The plot's main component is time, "namely the reversal of chronological time in a discovery of man's cultural roots in the past—a tension between past and present involving a baroque counter-play that is basic to the novel" (Natella 62). The plot, like that of Concierto Barroco, portrays music as an all-encompassing theme which relates to man's identity. In The Lost Steps, the unnamed protagonist, a Cuban composer, is commissioned to return to the jungle in order to find primitive instruments. At first he is reluctant to accept the commission but, seeing that there is nothing better for him to do, he embarks on the trip with his mistress, Mouche. The text reveals several dimensions: the relationship between man and music, life as a stage, myth (the inclusion of texts such as the Chilam Balam, and the Popol Vuh), attacks on the civilized world, time as an artistic expression, and more. The protagonist, on several occasions finds himself in situations that lead him to draw certain conclusions. For example, when he hears the cries of women at a funeral, he comes to realize that music is a representation of instinctive cries. Its roots are simply the expression of man's emotions.

In that sense, music represents a link between the past and the present. "In the hall, in the sitting-room, the men stood in solemn conversation while the women prayed antiphonally in the bedrooms . . ." (129). The protagonist's reaction to the situation is quite interesting as he regards the incident as a scene:

Appalled at the violence of their grief, I suddenly thought of the ancient tragedy . . . Over the corpse these peasant women were playing the role of a Greek chorus, their hair falling like thick veils over the menacing faces of daughters of kings . . . preparing the entrance of the Mother, who was Hecuba, cursing their bereavement, lamenting the ruin of a house, crying that there was no God, made me suspect that there was something of the theater about all this. (130)

In this passage, just as in Concierto Barroco, Carpentier shows the importance of interpretation. The composer, coming from a distinct environment, associates the scene with one he is already familiar with. It is then clear that Carpentier is depicting the beginnings of art as an expression of rites. For Carpentier music, just like theater, began as a result of instinct. In that sense he links the rites and ceremonies of the peoples of the jungle with his own terminology: the "tragedia" (music which best describes human evolution). The unconventional use of time added to the music describes a flashback. Each musical piece cited in the work is carefully inserted into the text in order to create a certain emotional mood or trigger in the reader and becomes an inherent part of the text:

At last I was hearing the Ninth Symphony, the reason for my previous journey, though to be sure, not under the circumstances my dad had described . . . The Ninth Symphony was the gracious, humane philosophy of Montaigne, the cloudless blue of Utopia, the essence of Elzivir, the voice of Voltaire raised in the Calas trial. (96)

As we have seen in Concierto Barroco, Carpentier makes use of intertextuality, and he also reveals this in The Lost Steps. Because of his "Western" outlook, the protagonist can not help but associate a philosophy and a literature with Beethoven's symphony. One could almost interpret this outlook as elitist or egocentric. He takes on the role of the music critic, a role which assumes that he has all the "right" answers or interpretations. Another example of this attitude comes back in the scene where the protagonist is sitting on a rock:

Silence is an important word in my vocabulary. Working with music, I have used it more than men in other professions. I know how one can speculate with silence, measure it, set it apart. But then, sitting on that rock I was living silence: a silence that came from so far off, compounded of so many silences, that a word dropped into it would have taken the clangor of creation. (109)

The above passage is quite self-contradictory. The protagonist makes sure to reiterate that he works with music and then speaks of silence. Of course any musician knows the importance of silence and its practical existence in a work, but trying to describe it for him is an impossible task, since silence does not exist. Here again a discrepancy is visible. The "Western" protagonist tries to describe a certain concept or scene which his language can not adequately reproduce. The Lost Steps represents a work which attempts to trace man's origins. As in Concierto Barroco, the quest results in the protagonist's return to a dehumanized life. In both works, there is a departure, or the setting in motion of something linked to certain expectations. The protagonists both are frustrated and return with a different view of the world.

In conclusion, it is safe to assume that music does serve the same purpose in both works. As we have said earlier, music encompasses all other components in the work: it is through music that Carpentier expresses differences in cultures, conveys emotions, illustrates problems of perception, fragments time, and more. The "marvelous American reality" is then perfectly exemplified. Carpentier does create "magical realism" by juxtaposing the Latin American view (for example, through the use of native texts) with known concepts. He can also be defined as a neobaroque writer of the two works: he has said that his characters, Fray Pedro, Marcos, El Adelantado, for example, represent "el gran teatro de la selva" (quoted in Natella 61). By referring to the term "el gran teatro de la selva," the reader is led to relate it to "el gran teatro del mundo," a concept which is not far from the truth when the reader realizes that, indeed, theater does play an important role in The Lost Steps. Carpentier uses the same themes in both works but sets them into different frameworks. Both protagonists are looking to affirm their identities and attain heightened awareness of the problematic interplay of the different cultures.

Works Cited

Carpentier, Alejo. Concierto Barroco. Trans. Aza Zatz Tulsa: Council Oak Books, 1988.

——. The Lost Steps. Trans. Harriet de Onís. New York: Noonday, 1984.

Natella, Jr., Arthur. "The Great Theatre of the World: Alejo Carpentier and Los pasos perdidos." Crítica Hispánica 8 (1986): 61-71.

Get Ahead with eNotes

Start your 48-hour free trial to access everything you need to rise to the top of the class. Enjoy expert answers and study guides ad-free and take your learning to the next level.

Get 48 Hours Free Access
Previous

At the Keyboard