It's All About the Bass
Part of the benefit of performing as often as I have is lost a great deal of anxiety about the actual music. I still worry about silly things, like how I look, or what people will think, but I feel incredibly safe about the music itself. Music is like a mother’s womb to me, like a crowd of friends, like a story I’m in. It’s my native language, and much of the world translates so easily to it. I remember reading about a bassist named Domenico Dragonetti (I know, right?) who was with a French horn player and a cellist as accompanist for a pianist at a house party back in the 1800’s. The composer was nervous and didn’t expect to have “help”. He cautioned the players to perform very minimally and suggested long notes and background tones. Mind you, they didn’t have any parts and would be improvising, but afterwards, the pianist praised them for such a wonderful performance. They knew how to make up parts to a composition they had never heard, of classical music from the late classical era, at someone’s house entertainment… on the spot. Even though that’s something I find myself doing the equivalent of all the time, it still amazes me to read about.
Let’s get back to Domenico Dragonetti for a second. (What a name, right?) My favorite story about Dragonetti is how no one could understand a word he said. He spoke a mixture of Italian, English and French and it was absolute gibberish to anyone talking to him, save his friend Robert Lindley, the cellist, whom probably only knew what he meant, not what he actually said. There are two instances that typically run the gambit of Dragonetti tales. One is the time he played for Napoleon. He was telling Napoleon what he was going to perform and it got so bad Napoleon told him to just play what he wanted to say instead, as he would be able to understand that better. The second is the time he played for Beethoven. Beethoven had almost gone completely deaf by the time Dragonetti met him, and the famous composer hugged Dragonetti after wards. They met in 1799, and many scholars believe that the virtuosic parts of Beethoven’s 5th symphony, (often doubled by the cellists), are a result of Dragonetti’s influence.
Another great bassist of the romantic period is, of course, Giovanni Bottesini. I know less about him, other than what Dragonetti did for the German bow, Bottesini did for the French. The German bow is often noted for its ability to deliver power and strength to difficult passages, while the French bow is noted for its subtilty and nuance for delicate melody. For those of you in the peanut gallery, the French bow a double bass like all the other stringed instruments of their family, while the Germans bow underhand. The interesting history of Bottesini that I’m privy to is him being director of the Cairo Opera House in 1870, where he conducted the premier of Verdi’s Aida. Bottesini directed other music their also, and he liked to sneak his bass on stage during intermissions and play sonatas. This is likely how the double bass gained influence in Egypt to eventually become part of the Arabic Takht, and included in the ensemble. As Hagai Bilitzky writes, “Unlike other western instruments that became part of Middle Eastern music ensembles, like the western violin which replaces the rebab (the ancient Arab violin), the double bass does not replace an existing traditional instrument, but is an addition to the ensemble that creates a unique role.” So, good job Bottesini, right?
Fu’ad Abbas was the bassist for Um Kulthum, the famous Egyptian vocalist for many years. I believe that after her first movie, Widad, he became an inseparable part of her musical accompaniment, and was known to be in her main group that she took to all her performances throughout her career. I found him incredibly hard to research, and once I did find material on him, I found it incredibly hard to understand, as I don’t speak Arabic. I was thoroughly impressed with his performances though, as the double bass sounds amazing in the maqam of Arabic music. Hagai Bilitzky, incidentally, is an incredible bassist. I highly recommend watching his performances of the takasim. You won’t be disappointed.
I think I’ll leave it there. I just wanted to talk about famous bassists today. There’s no point, no lesson, just big, fat, round notes, and heavy, heavy sounds.
Here is Hagai, and his wonderful music: