Modest Petrovich Mussorgsky (1839-1881)

Written by Nurel Javissyarqi
Translated by Agus B. Harianto

Modest Petrovich Mussorgsky (March 9, 1839 – March 16, 1881) is one of the Russian composers who is known as the Five (five companions; Rimsky-Korsakov, Balakirev, Moussorgsky, César Cui, Borodin), is the innovator of Russian music of romantic period. He tried to achieve a unique musical identity of Russia, which is often deliberately broke the established conventions of Western music. His works are inspired by Russian history, folklore and other nationalist themes, includes the opera of Boris Godunov, orchestral tone of the poem “Malam di Gunung Gundul” (Night on Bald Mountain), the piano suite Pictures at an Exhibition. Over the years his works were known as revised versions or completed by another composer. Many of the most important composition just came to them in the original form, and some of the value of authenticity remains. (From http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Modest_Mussorgsky

Moussorgsky doesn’t know about the symphony or fugue. His music is primitive, wild and beautiful such as rock towering upward, from a large hole. The large hole is human heart. Just watch the picture of this musical poet. The wild faces we encounter in his music. He didn’t learn from the books of harmony and contrapuntist, but in the shops where the peasants sing and in the midst of nature where the peasants are working, also have joy. Moussorgsky is the opposite of Rimsky-Korsakov. He does not like a fairytale. The most beautiful ocean was sung by Rimsky, but he hated it. “It contains cold-blooded animals” he said. The music is absolutely underestimated and it can not commonly be used to describe the scenery. Its sphere where we feel elementary and also too rushed: Regret of a Boris Godunov, a sense of horror in the battlefield. He likened Dostoyevsky, both are called “artists from the chaos.” His soul that was full of secrets is difficult to be understood. But this Russians is not influenced even a bit by any of Western Europe. Maybe he is the most Russian of all other Russian composers. The point of his music does not in the music of his symphonies, but it is in the opera of “Boris Godunov” and in its songs. (J. Van Ackere, the book “Musik Abadi” (Eternal Music), translated by J. A. Dungga, Gunung Agung Djakarta, no date (n.d), the original book entitles “Eeuwige Muziek”, published by NV Standaard-Boekhandel, Antwerpen, Belgie. Which is retranslated would be more or less like above)
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Hearing the music of Mussorgsky ‘Night On Bald Mountain ” via You Tobe:

is ringing like crazy, wacky and deeply patriotic spirit, disruption from the clod of longing keeps being clot.

Thorns, zigzag steps, shrill of heart’s voice pierced, wild muscles, relieved heavy rain.

Stultify to the observers, shrunken the guts of critics. The boiled selfishness, if not regarded wisely, it can be considered to disrupt the harmony.

Its symphony is collided to stormy pastoral element, meteors are falling, dust is billowing in the vicious circle.

Raised all the hearts, feeling is skinned by honesty of being loyal.

All the corners are filled by fat of the soul, blaring from the reasoning that is almost broken.

Tenderness sliced veins, leakage of the ozone layer, sears the narrow mentality.

Silence is not dead, but preparing the energy to draw answers from far distance.

Peeping, spying on the order of stagnation, frightening with the ghosts out of the place.

Demons of shadow were entered; the charm of melancholy dragged the mysterious birth.

His destiny is determined by the time, certitude of everlasting was presented, in the heads that felt threatened earlier.

Mussorgsky built his music from intrigue of reasoning infiltrated into the soul.

He raised it up like the grudge of existence, which is ransacked by the pygmy intellectual.

His power sow the seeds to view the water content, by the whole natural he entered tension.

The roar behind the cemetery in the party of the vicious of politics, launched a large group of the soul of the defenders of the country

Dredged mining of the old story in the bawdy shops, soldiers steps be crazy at position was taken off, if they were not swing the weapon.

His music is serious, more sober than the merely beauty. The wilderness was echoed on the maturity of altercation.

Similar the executor of statue (idols), the mannered and beauty values were straightened by the sword of soul. Dancing in the air, his steps were prosper on bravery.

His music encourages dynamism adjustment of minx, without tired of showing off the luxury thigh and calf.

Then it cut the reasoning that is smiling expressionlessly and saved the death.

Its rhythm is mocking all levels. With his expert he could perform the charm, without obeying to the listeners.

Because of large drunkenness, the audience was forced to wake up in their devoutness to interpret the carefulness and suspect insanity.

Its rhythm dances to open the shame to stupidity, which is covered by any clothing.

Laugh at. We couldn’t move slightly, only a twit came out.

This is the dark side of the ideology of rotation of limp, born from the darkest history.

He understood torpor, trained harder onto the balance of the sense of hearing experience, masticated changes.

He does not need applause, tensions he was expected; terror of death, sadly and awkward, the pain petrified on the outskirts of the time.

The most beautiful revolution movement is toned pitched away, to awaken the souls of complacent.

The instincts were rose up; the composition was rushed to the front, to fulfill the calling of the smoke of dolor of human price.

The harmonious with the power of the longing of mystery was revealed from the rumbling of chaos, drew the reward of accident.

The hairs are erect; the music of Mussorgsky is reverb.
The concept of warfare, the proposition strategy face to face.
Clashing red eyes, gall is forged by the thirst of light.

Broken eggs, the time is performed by the blow, the blow of voices as thick as the most ancient glass.

Bees attacked the wicked, the dagger stuck into the stomach. The tactics are bedazzled, deceptions scatterbrained puzzle.

The book of the war strategy uses all possibilities, the stratagems of the crush of siege.

Snapping the legs of strong horses, insistent march of the unseen world is infiltrated; the sacrifices are recorded in each generation.