Svadba is a piece that has followed me around for quite some time. I was always intrigued by it and was glad when BLO invited me to conduct their production, which is an opera film with dance. And thus, began not only my study and preparation for Svadba, but also familiarizing myself with the folk music of my own country, Serbia.
My first memories of Serbian folk music seem very distant, and I believe it was probably something that fell into my ear on a late Sunday afternoon while watching TV when I was about six years old. One thing I do remember though, was sensing that this was a new musical world that was unlike anything I had ever heard before. The melodies were simple, yet packed with emotion, the rhythms were at times, even and predictable, and at others, they offered unsolvable enigmas, asking the listener to really pay attention, to feel the pulse and the intensity of it. By this time in my life, I had already started making friends with the music of Kabalevsky, Shostakovich, Tchaikovsky, and of course Bach, as well as the pop music of Yugoslavia. (It’s important to know that Serbia was one of the six republics that formed Yugoslavia until its collapse in the 1990s.) I thought I was starting to grasp what music can be, and yet, the sounds that were introduced by those folk melodies seemed like something that came from a different time and place.
To offer a history of Serbia’s rich musical heritage would require many more paragraphs, since the music is as complex as its history, yet I will attempt to share a taste in order to help frame the rich tradition that may have inspired composer Ana Sokolović as she wrote Svadba. One of the reasons for this richness in musical tradition is Serbia’s location, a place where many different cultures have met, mixed, and morphed. The Northern part of the country, where I was born and brought up, has adopted influences from the Austro-Hungarian Empire, where the zither and accordion are often used. Whereas the music in Eastern Serbia is usually accompanied by frula (Serbian flute), and in Rural Serbia bagpipes are frequently played as solo instruments, while epic songs are accompanied by gusle (single stringed fiddle). One can also not omit the importance of Brass Bands and their own rich history and heritage within Serbian culture.
Another important thing to note is that Serbian vocal tradition has two different styles: the older one, called na glas (the literal translation means on the voice), and more modern one na bas (meaning, on the bass). Each of these songs are usually for two voices, rarely three, and even more rare, single voice. I invite you to listen to the musical intervals these songs use as well. The old ones use mostly minor seconds, creating almost a friction in the melody, while the modern styles use a wider spectrum of intervals, including fourths and fifths.
The following are twelve songs I’ve selected for you to enrich your listening experience, and give you a taste of the sound world I grew up in. I’ve included a variety of authentic recordings as well as more modern ones of traditional songs. Some of the songs are inspired by part of the libretto in Svadba, so that it may introduce a part of the text, offer a different interpretation of a song, or give another example of a similar texture and color completely independent of their titles.
Trojanac is a type of dance, known in Western Serbia, that emerged probably around 1930. The name Trojanac (tri = three) refers to three repeated tunes and dance motives. The song here features the melody played by the frula and the accordion. The speed of the music supports simpler steps in dance, which also lends itself to improvisation.
Brass music is a huge part of Serbian tradition, and it is perhaps the most widely known style beyond Serbian borders. There is a wonderful film, Brasslands, which talks about the importance of brass music in Serbia, while focusing the attention on the yearly competition of brass bands in Guča. This particular piece to me represents a perfect combination of the melody, ornamentation, voicings, and a nostalgia that I always find present in our music.
Čobanska svirka, Bugarka, Vlasko kolo
Bokan Stanković is a bagpipe, duduk, okarina, and trumpet player from Serbia. His virtuosic playing on bagpipes on this mix of the three melodies from Eastern Serbia is another favorite, as it has a slow introduction and then an immediate development of melodies in irregular time signatures.
This piece sang here by three female singers gives a very good idea of the old style of singing. The close-knit harmonies and tight voicings are very evocative of the opening of Svadba.
This recording is by the vocal group Ribaševke from the village of Ribaševina. The group has existed since 1939 and is dedicated to the vocal traditions of the municipality of Užice. The opposite of the previous song, which is structured around very close intervals and harmonies, this one uses the style that we would label as modern.
The text of this song is used in movements No. 2 and No. 3 in Svadba. The melody that is usually notated in 9/8 with a division of 2+2+2+3, is notated in 4/4 in the second movement with a mix of old and new way of singing. The top two voices in the second movement sing in minor seconds, adding the third voice as a basis of the higher register, while the bottom three voices enter on a major third, and within their group still keep the major second as the dominant interval. This version is sung with the usual notation of the rhythmic accents falling on the last beat in the measure. Members of the group Искон (Iskon) state that their mission is to introduce traditional music through contemporary arrangements.
This song in its form reminds me of the middle section of the third movement of Svadba, where three singers create a “female,” and the others a “male” group. In this song, the interplay between the voices and the continuation of the storytelling throughout the voices is very unique. With the trade-off among the voices, there is a very strong resemblance to call and response.
The title of this song translates to “Good morning, yellow frog” and in its form reminds me of the fourth movement of Svadba, and the “fight” between the girlfriends. In the movement, the girlfriends are using children’s songs to create the playfulness, and with the short sections that this song provides it almost serves as a model for the structure of the movement, where every voice has a short solo.
Osu se nebo stems from a group of old folk-lyric poems. Because of their strong emotional context, and the richness of the language, the folk-lyric poems had a very strong influence on the development of literature. The poems often describe natural forces, or personal and collective relationships, and while they don’t have verses or rhymes, the melodies would reflect the emotion given through the text.
Since these story-poems had such melodious text, they would usually be sung, which contributed to preservation of these poems. What I love about both versions, this one, and our fifth movement in Svadba, is how different each interpretation is. Ana Sokolović uses the layering of voices to create different textures and expand the frame of the song, which creates a very serene mood. In the version linked here by Ribaševke, we hear a different text and a mood that is geared towards a daily depiction of life, thus creating a completely different atmosphere.
In the sixth movement in Svadba, there are two distinct sections –one, of the dawning of a new day, followed by the voices joining in an imitation of Kolo, a traditional folk dance, which is performed by dancers forming a chain, and moving in a circle.
The ocarina is one of the instruments used very often in Serbian folk music. In Svadba, it is used to signal the new day and is played throughout the movement as accompaniment. This song I’ve chosen to share, introduces us to the full range of ocarina and additionally includes a dance section.
The last movement of Svadba has three very strong sections, opening with a solo by Milica. This song, Zelen goro, ne laduj devojko, reminds me of Milica’s solo. It is rare to hear a single voice in Serbian music, and in this song, we can almost hear the rest of the voices joining in on cadences.
The seventh movement of Svadba involves the rest of the voices slowly joining in with single notes and spaced out entrances creating an underlying texture for the solo. This develops into what sounds like an improvisation over a drone with two of the voices holding an interval of the fifth, while the other three voices add colors —all supporting Milica’s solo lines. The texture created in this final section reminds me of church songs, and I would be remiss if I didn’t include one of those examples here. The range of the voices and the power that is created with every new verse depicts the atmosphere and the grandness of churches that we often see in Serbia.
I hope that this playlist will intrigue you to listen to the beauty in the world I grew up in, and help you notice more deeply the richness in Ana Sokolović’s score. I have learned more about my own culture and gained a deeper understanding of a part of the world that I call home as I’ve compiled these selections for you.
Complete playlist here
Daniela Candillari is a conductor and composer living in New York City. She made her debut with Boston Lyric Opera conducting BLO’s production of Svadba. Performances this season include the Metropolitan Opera, Lyric Opera of Chicago, and Opera Theatre of Saint Louis. http://www.danielacandillari.com