Throughout its history, the clarinet has been lucky enough to catch the ear of some pretty influential composers. Mozart was the first to fully employ its singing, operatic qualities. Late in life, Brahms experimented with its more subtle, dramatic colors, and by including it in his seminal work Pierrot Lunaire, Schoenberg cemented the clarinet as an instrument of the new music and avant-garde genres.
Stravinsky was one such composer that gifted clarinetists with perhaps the most well-known piece for unaccompanied clarinet, Three Pieces for Solo Clarinet (1919), ensuring that composers of the 20th and 21st centuries, including Luciano Berio, would provide the instrument with a wealth of music.
In contrast with his best known work for solo clarinet, Sequenza IX (1980)—a virtuosic tour de force that pushes the boundaries of what is possible on the clarinet—Berio’s Lied (1983) is a smaller, more introspective work. Like many musicians over the last year, I ended up spending a significant amount of time away from my instrument, and in finding my way back to the clarinet, I was lucky enough to discover this gem. To me, it is reminiscent of Bartok’s “night music”, long quiet melodies interspersed with the random noises of the unknown dark.
