The Fredösphere

The progeny and I were at Barnes and Noble.  I browsed their music section and noticed they had just a very few orchestral scores:  a couple of Mozart Requiems, Le Sacre and also Les Noces.  That was pretty much it.  I'd love to know what odd combination of inventory decisions and purchases lead to that exact combination sitting on the shelf the day I happened to look.

Les Noces.  Now there's an odd duck.  It's one of Stravinsky's earlier works -- a kind of stylized one-act opera.  After several false starts, Stravinsky settled on an ensemble of percussion instruments, including pianos.  This sonic environment is astonishing in its richness; it sounds austere and elemental, but never barren.

I have a bit of history with this piece.  I didn't start collecting classical recordings until well into my high school years.  Somehow along the way, we acquired a record (vinyl of course; we're talking about the 1970s here) with Les Noces on the B side.  (My mother was an avid bargain hunter and I assume she got it at a garage sale.  Somewhere in Branch County, Michigan, there was a serious fan of 20th century music or someone who did not know what they were getting when they bought that record.)

I listened to the recording.  I liked it.  Somehow, the energy and the rhythmic drive grabbed my attention.  It was the first out-there music I ever enjoyed.  (I'm talking about a time in my life when even Tristan was a stretch.)  I'm pretty sure credit goes to the particular performance, lead by Pierre Boulez.  The whole ensemble completely mastered that score and were therefore free to inhabit its passion.  (A quick round of Googling didn't turn it up.)

A few years ago I listened to the piece performed by an Eastern European group and it wasn't the same.  It was lifeless.  Good thing I didn't hear that one first.

The Guardian likes Lenny Bernstein's version.

That score of Les Noces was only 13 bucks.  Why didn't I just buy it?