New Year’s Celebration
Concerts
Program notes
Georg Frederic Handel (1685 – 1759)
"Handel is the greatest composer who
ever lived. I would bare my head and kneel at his grave"
Beethoven (1824)
1685 was a good year for north German
musicians. In Halle, Georg Frederic Handel took his first breath on
February 23, while 50 miles away in Eisenach Johann Sebastian Bach began
his life’s journey on March 21. These two men became the Baroque
era’s greatest composers, although they never met. It is an
oversimplification to characterize Bach as “the introvert” and Handel
as “the extrovert”, but Handel’s fame was unrivalled during his
lifetime and his operas, oratorios, and concertos were performed in
concert halls across Europe.
As a young musician, Handel traveled to
Italy where he stayed for three years, absorbing the popular Italian
musical styles. Returning to Germany briefly as court composer for
the Elector of Hanover, he found fame and fortune in London, where he
lived and worked for more than 45 years. Court composer to King
George I and II, Handel concentrated first on operas and then oratorios.
His “Messiah” was immediately successful; following its Glasgow
premiere in 1742, ladies were asked to wear skirts without hoops and
gentlemen to leave their swords at home in order to fit more people into
the concert hall.
An independent and strong-willed
individual, Handel was also known for his sense of humor. When a
friend complained of a terrible piece he had just heard in Vauxhall
Gardens, Handel replied “You are right sir, it is very poor stuff.
I though so myself when I wrote it”.
We remember Handel today not just for his
“Messiah”, but other oratorios such as “Israel in Egypt” and
“Judas Maccabaeus”, his royal commissions for King George’s barge
excursions “Water Music” and “Royal Fireworks Music”, two sets of
wonderful Concerti Grossi, and dozens of delightful instrumental concerti.
Concerto for in G minor for Trumpet
and Strings (1717)
You’ve read this far, so I’ll let you in
on a secret: this was originally written as a concerto for oboe, but
we are adapting it for our purposes on this program. This practice
of re-assigning musical parts was a common one in the Baroque era –
composers would make many arrangements of their own works, as well as the
works of others, to suit their own personal instrumental needs. We
think the trumpet makes a delightful soloist in this work, and hope that
you do too!
This concerto follows a typical slow-fast,
slow-fast pattern in its four movements. The opening Grave is
marked by a long-short-long-short, or “dotted”, rhythmic pattern that
characterizes many Baroque overtures. This is followed by an
energetic Allegro in which the soloist and the orchestra take turns
in a conversational manner. The third movement, Sarabande, is
a slow dance in triple meter. Our soloist takes the melodic line
throughout, displaying the trumpet’s singing qualities. The Final:
Allegro brings the work to a brisk conclusion, with a return to the
dotted rhythms of the Grave but in an entirely new and extroverted
character.
Dmitri Shostakovich (1906 – 1975)
Born into a cultured St. Petersburg family
on September 25, 1906, Dmitri Shostakovich’s art was forged by the
profound cultural upheavals that occurred in Russia during his lifetime.
He entered the St. Petersburg (later Petrograd, later Leningrad)
Conservatory as a talented young pianist in 1919, but the tremendous
international acclaim that accompanied his First Symphony (written as a
graduation exercise in 1924-25) tilted his ambitions towards composing.
The early years of the Soviet Union
allowed Shostakovich much artistic freedom, but Lenin’s decisions in the
early 1930’s to purge his political rivals and eliminate “enemies of
the revolution” sent shock waves through the political and artistic
communities. Shostakovich’s brilliant Lady Macbeth of Mtensk was
enjoying great success in 1934 in both Moscow and Leningrad when Joseph
Stalin attended a performance and vilified the “gnash and screech” of
the music. The next day, the Soviet newspaper Pravda denounced
Shostakovich and put the composer’s freedom, indeed his very life, at
risk.
Shostakovich’s public apology was his
Fifth Symphony, written in 1937, which he called his “Creative Reply of
a Soviet Artist to Justified Criticism”. Yet even while outwardly
mollifying his critics, the music contains powerful subversive messages of
strength and protest that would mark much of Shostakovich’s subsequent
compositions.
“There is a special form of self-defence
in the Soviet Union. You say that you're planning such and such a
composition, something with a powerful, killing title. That's so that they
don't stone you. And meanwhile you write a quartet for your own quiet
satisfaction. But you tell the administration that you're working on the
opera Karl Marx or The Young Guards, and they'll forgive you your quartet
when it appears.” Dmitri Shostakovich
Was he a willing Communist or a dissident
hero? The debate rages to this day. His life was tormented by
official critics who openly accepted him one day, banned his music the
next, threatening to send him off to a Gulag prison. The music
itself is indisputably the work of a great master: Russian in style,
it draws from an extremely diverse number of sources including Russian
folk songs, jazz, and J. S. Bach. His operas, ballets, piano works,
and 15 symphonies earned him international acclaim, while other
compositions like his 15 string quartets – written in a very personal
style – have taken longer to enter our repertoire. Shostakovich
also wrote music for dozens of films, the income from which supported him
through the many lean years.
Some observe the Russian character as
being one of extremes, and the same can be said of Shostakovich’s music.
The stirring, brilliant music is balanced by music of utter loneliness and
despair; mocking, brittle music by the unabashedly lovely. Without
question his is one of the most important musical voices of the 20th
century – a voice of despair, pain, triumph, glory, and above all –
humanity.
Piano Concerto No. 1 (1934)
Written just after completing his ill-fated Lady
Macbeth of Mtesnk in 1933, but before his public denouncement by
Stalin, Shostakovich’s First Piano Concerto, Opus 35, displays the
bravura and brilliance of many of his early compositions. Mindful of
the Central Committee’s message, he wrote: “I see our age as heroic,
cheerful, exceptionally full of joie-de-vivre. This I wanted
to convey in my concerto”.
Scored for solo piano, string orchestra,
and a single trumpet, the first movement, Allegro moderato, is a
high-spirited gallop through several quick tempos and contrasting moods.
A melancholy, meandering theme wanders in from time to time, banished by
bright rhythms only to return at the end. The second movement, Lento,
begins as a slow waltz – pensive and spare. A briefly energetic
middle section quickly subsides and our waltz again spins out its timeless
melody, as if floating in mid-air. The brief third movement, Moderato,
opens with the solo piano and is in a darker, pensive mood. But
soon the final movement interrupts us: Allegro brio, full of
glittering passagework and taut rhythmic figures. The banal trumpet
melody that interrupts us thrice – and closes the work – comes from a
satiric portrait of an American from an earlier opera. Here, in
mock-bombastic style, Shostakovich gives us a “wink” to tell us he
wasn’t really serious, or was he?
Franz Schubert (1797 – 1828)
The only great Viennese master (think Haydn,
Mozart, Beethoven, Brahms) who was actually born in that city, Schubert
wrote some of the world’s best-loved music in his all-too-brief.
amazingly productive life. He composed over 600 songs, reaching into the
heart of the text and expressing words in music as never before. His
pieces for orchestra, piano, and chamber music also mined a rich vein of
melody and Schubert’s own brand of expressive harmony.
Schubert wrote so quickly that he was
considered by some to be clairvoyant. Largely unnoticed and unpublished in
his lifetime, it took most of the 19th century for musical
folks to realize his true status. Living his entire life in poverty,
the center of a large social circle of intellectuals – artists, writers,
poets, lawyers – Schubert died at the age of 31 from syphilis contracted
at the end of his 25th year.
Schubert once said to his lifelong friend,
Josef von Spaun: “Secretly, in my heart of hearts, I still hope to
make something of myself, but who can do anything after
Beethoven?” One of his closest friends described his looks as
resembling “a drunken cabby”, and Schubert left no diaries and few
letters for posterity.
Taught violin and piano as a child, he
soon surpassed his teachers and at the age of 11 was accepted into
Vienna’s Imperial Court chapel choir, which brought admission to a
well-respected boarding school. Here Schubert began his musical
education in earnest, earning the following compliment from his organ
teacher Ruzicka: “This one’s learnt it from God”
Schubert’s father ran a small private
school, and urged his son to “get a real job” upon his graduation.
This Schubert did, earning his teaching credentials and teaching at his
father’s school for several years before summoning up the courage to
quit and devote his life to music. Exempted from military service
not only for his poor eyesight (those trademark spectacles!) but because
he was under 5 feet tall, Schubert soon fell into a circle of friends who
would encourage and support him for the rest of his brief life.
His early musical successes came with
songs: his first masterpiece, “Gretchen am Spinnrade”
(“Gretchen at the Spinning Wheel) was composed in 1814, followed by
“Erlkonig” the following year and then a flood of works that changed
the course of the “art song” forever. By the time Schubert was
in his early 20’s, he was out on his own, drinking with friends late
into the Viennese night, writing symphonies, songs and chamber music in
the afternoons. Amazingly prolific, he sometimes turned out several
songs in a single day, and more than 100 in his most productive years.
Some of his most famous songs are: “An Die Musik” (a hymn to
music), “Der Tod und das Madchen” (“Death and the Maiden”), and
“Die Forelle” (“The Trout”). “Death and the Maiden” is
also the nickname for a well-known string quartet, which uses this song as
the basis for a set of incredibly lovely variations in the slow movement.
“Trout” is the nickname for a wonderful quintet: piano, violin, viola,
cello, and double bass that does the same thing with the “Trout” song
theme.
We can’t leave the subject of
Schubert’s songs without mentioning his two revolutionary song cycles.
Based on the theme of love and loss, “Die Schone Müllerin” (“The
Happy Miller”) marks a turning point in the history of song. No
one had ever composed a song cycle like this before, with its exquisite
marriage of text and music, each forming a perfect whole. Near the
end of his life, Schubert composed “Die Winterreise” (“Winter’s
Journey”), musical reflections on love, loss, and death.
Eight out of ten musicians will answer
the question “What music would you like played at your funeral” with
the answer “the slow movement from Schubert’s cello quintet”.
Try it yourself with your musical friends! This astounding piece,
written for the unusual combination of 2 violins, 1 viola, and 2 cellos,
is among his greatest compositions – and one of his longest, taking well
over an hour to perform. But ah, what an incredible hour!! Other
Schubertian favorites of mine include his Quartettsatz (string quartet
movement), the “Unfinished” Symphony (No. 8), and the G Major/Minor
string quartet.
When he died, penniless, his friends
raised a subscription for his burial and chose a plot as close to
Beethoven – who had died the previous year, but at the riper age of 57
– as possible. Later, the city of Vienna moved the graves of
Mozart, Beethoven, and Schubert into a “Musicians’ Grove”.
Had Schubert lived longer, the course of
classical music might well have turned out differently. He lived and
died in the shadow of the great Beethoven, but had Schubert lived to 57 he
would have mastered Vienna as surely as Beethoven did. On
Schubert’s grave is an epitaph that hints at what was lost by his early
demise: “The art of music here entombed a rich possession,
but even fairer hopes”
Symphony No. 5 in B-flat major
(1816)
In 1816, the nineteen year-old Schubert was
sprung from his father’s house and basking in his freedom and
independence in Vienna. Composing his fifth symphony in the late
summer, this small, classically-molded symphony is Schubert’s homage to
Mozart, whom he considered his greatest inspiration. Written for a
small orchestra of strings plus seven woodwinds – flute, 2 oboes, 2
bassoons, and 2 horns – it contains four movements, following the
pattern of earlier classical symphonies. But Schubert’s genius
infuses every note – an unsurpassed melodist, he is also experimenting
with harmony and form, but in a completely different direction than was
his colleague Beethoven. Charles Rosen summed it up well:
“Beethoven was the architect… Schubert the daydreamer!”
The first movement, Allegro, carries
us along from the opening woodwind chords to the final sweep of the coda.
In between is music of great sweetness and clarity, yet with a dramatic
fervor that keeps us pinned to our chairs. The Andante con moto displays
Schubert’s unsurpassed melodic gift, spinning out one gorgeous phrase
after another. A brief foray into G minor in the third movement, a
Minuet and Trio, breaks the spell of the Andante. The lively
finale, Allegro vivace, brings this symphony to a delightful and
satisfying conclusion. |