One of the best one-liners attributed to Thomas Beecham refers to the stridently avant-garde Karlheinz Stockhausen: “I’ve never conducted his music, but I once trod in some.” It’s almost certainly apocryphal, but the implied verdict is widely shared. Stockhausen played up to the caricature of the self-obsessed “squeaky gate” composer, though his capacity to create painful noises went way beyond squeaks: only he could have written a string quartet in which each player is recorded in a separate helicopter.
So I’m sticking my neck out when I suggest that some of Stockhausen’s works are masterpieces that can be enjoyed even — or especially — if you steer clear of the thicket of mathematics, physics and astrology that surrounds them. One of these is Mantra, in which two pianists fortified by percussion perform virtuoso tricks while microphones and speakers pick up and play back their notes with subtle grades of distortion. I’ll spare you the sine-wave theory; suffice to say that Stockhausen’s manipulation of his “mantra” produces tumbling bagatelles, pianistic twiddles that turn into ear-worms and a nerve-shredding electrical storm.
This new recording, featuring the piano duo of Andreas Grau and Götz Schumacher, is the one to have: the special effects color the piano tones rather than overloading them, as they do in other performances. (I checked so you don’t have to.) The composer here displays the mixture of daring and whimsy that landed him on the cover of Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band. It was written in 1970, at the height of his trendiness, but it hasn’t dated. If you feel brave enough to sample Stockhausen, read in this.
Grade: A-
This article was originally published in The Spectator’s UK magazine. Subscribe to the World edition here.