Program Notes for "Valentine's Day Concert"

             Saturday, February 13, 2010  ·  7:30 PM

                        David Bowden, Conductor
                      Harriet Moore, Principal Harp
                      
Kurt Fowler, Principal Cello

  Jean Sibelius (1865-1957)
Rakastava (The Lovers), op. 14 (1893/1911)

 
It was not unusual for Sibelius to make extensive revisions to his compositions, sometimes years after they were first published. Sometimes the revisions were relatively minor, but in some cases works were so completely changed that they became almost entirely new compositions. Such was the case with Rakastava, which appeared in four different versions over the space of eighteen years.

During Sibelius’ formative years, Finland was undergoing a cultural Renaissance. For centuries, Finland had been under the political domination of Sweden, then Russia, and the Finnish language and culture had been largely forgotten. But in the 1870s, an independence movement began to form, coupled with a reawakening of Finnish culture.
The Sibeliuses were Swedish speakers, but when Jean was nine, his family made the significant decision to transfer him to a new school, the first of its kind, where lessons were given in Finnish. It was here that Sibelius first came into contact with two great collections of Finnish folk poetry, the epic poem Kalevala, and Kanteletar, a collection of lyrics and ballads celebrating the everyday life of a rural society. As a young man, Sibelius read and reread these volumes, which would provide inspiration for many of the early masterpieces that made his reputation.

By 1893, Sibelius had scored a major triumph with the successful premiere of his Kullervo Symphony, actually a type of dramatic cantata based on an episode from the Kalevala, scored for vocal soloists, male chorus, and orchestra. The same year would bring the first version of Rakastava, an intimate setting of three poems from Kanteletar for male choir a cappella. Though Sibelius entered this work in a competition sponsored by the Helsinki University Chorus, he was awarded second prize when the jury complained of the work’s technical difficulties. Mindful of this, Sibelius added a discreet accompanying part for string orchestra (which can be omitted, and usually is). Four years later, he would transcribe it for mixed chorus, with soprano and baritone soloists.
In 1911, he returned to the work one last time. By then, he was in a very different situation, having established himself almost as a national hero for his tone poem Finlandia, and known worldwide for his first four symphonies. From his new perspective, he found something different in Rakastava, and set about recasting it for string orchestra (to which he added minimal parts for timpani and triangle).

Far from a direct transcription, the string orchestra version almost qualifies as a separate work (though it was published with the same opus number as the choral original). Freed from the necessity of writing singable lines, Sibelius allows the “ethereal polyphony” and form to develop at greater length and complexity. The third movement features solo parts for violin and cello, taking the place of the vocal soloists in the original.

Though the text is obviously no longer present, Sibelius retained the titles for each of the three movements. The first movement, “The Lover,” is elegiac in mood and songlike in character. The second movement, “The Path of the Beloved,” breathes a restrained yet intense joy. The final movement, “Good Evening…Farewell,” is about the sorrow of parting and refers back thematically to the first. The work dies away in a coda in which the two lovers are engulfed by the sad harmonies of the summer night.
 
Samuel Barber (1910-1981)
Adagio for Strings, op. 11 (1936/8)

 
Though he was not a child prodigy on the scale of a Mozart or a Mendelssohn, Samuel Barber’s musical gifts were evident at a very early age. After beginning piano lessons at six, he began composing a year later. Not long after, possibly when he was nine, he was certain enough about his vocation to announce it in a note to his mother: “I was meant to be a composer,” he wrote, “and will be I’m sure. Don’t ask me to forget this unpleasant thing and go play football. Please.”
While most stories about composers in their youth tend to be anecdotal, this one can be verified as true, since the note itself is preserved in the Library of Congress. Fortunately, his mother did not make him play football, but found him an excellent piano teacher. By the time he was 14, Barber was admitted to the first class of the new Curtis Institute of Music, studying piano and voice as well as composition.

Success came early. By age 23, Barber had completed his first orchestral work, Overture to “The School for Scandal,” and heard it premiered by the Philadelphia Orchestra. Before he was 30, he had received his first major commission, for the Violin Concerto, and for the rest of his life, he would rarely be without a commissioned work on his desk. He would become one of the few composers to receive a Pulitzer Prize in music twice, in 1958 for his opera Vanessa, and 1963 for his Piano Concerto.
Without a doubt, however, his most famous composition is the Adagio for Strings, originally composed as the middle movement of his only string quartet in 1936, and arranged for string orchestra two years later. Two years after that, Arturo Toscanini, a conductor notoriously disdainful of contemporary music and American composers, conducted the premiere with the NBC Symphony. The performance was broadcast nationwide, and overnight the Adagio took its place as one of the most well known works of American concert music.

In fact, the Adagio can be said to have reached iconic status, in that its popularity extends far beyond the concert hall. It has been played at the funerals of Franklin Delano Roosevelt, Princess Grace of Monaco, and Albert Einstein; it was broadcast nationally when John F. Kennedy died, and during innumerable televised 9/11 memorials. It has been used in the soundtracks to such diverse films as Platoon, The Elephant Man, and El norte, and in a commercial for French perfume. Even people who have never heard of the composer recognize the piece instantly.

The full tempo marking is “Molto adagio, espressivo cantando” (very slowly, expressive and singing). Much of the emotional power of the work lies in its extraordinary simplicity; a single section, a single long melody, moving mostly by step and in regular quarter notes, beginning quietly in the low strings, rising to a fortissimo climax with all strings in their highest register; then a sudden, heart-stopping silence, followed by a return to the mood of the beginning, and a gradual sinking into silence.
 
Achille-Claude Debussy (1862-1918)
Danses Sacrée et Profane for harp and string orchestra (1904)

 
            It is interesting to note that two of the most important works in the harp repertoire should owe their existence to a bit of capitalist competition.

            At the turn of the last century, the harp manufacturers Pleyel and Erard were engaged in a battle for market dominance. In 1897, Pleyel introduced a new model known as the “Chromatic Harp,” which featured a string for every note of the chromatic scale. This was billed as an improvement over the standard model, in which the strings were tuned diatonically, with chromatic notes being made available through the use of pedals which, when engaged, would raise or lower by a semitone the pitch of each class of strings.

            To publicize the advantages of their new model, Pleyel commissioned a new work from Debussy to feature the new harp in a short concerted work. Debussy’s response was the “Sacred and Profane Dances,” for harp and strings. Not to be outdone, Erard turned to Debussy’s colleague Maurice Ravel and commissioned the “Introduction and Allegro” to showcase the advantages of the standard pedal harp.

            Both works have become required repertoire for harpists all over the world. But as for the chromatic harp, despite its advantages, it proved to be simply too unwieldy to be practical, and Pleyel soon ceased production. Perhaps Debussy anticipated this, since the Dances, with a little judicious editing, are quite playable on the pedal instrument.

            The word “Profane” in the title is easily misunderstood by English-speaking audiences. In this context, it simply means “secular.” The first, “sacred,” dance is gentle and meditative, drawing much of its flavor from the use of medieval modes. The “secular” dance has more of the character of a late 19th century waltz.
 
Edward Elgar (1857-1934)
Serenade for Strings in E minor, op. 20 (1892)

 
The Serenade for Strings was premiered in Antwerp, Belgium, on July 23, 1896. Elgar was 39 and still relatively unknown, having not yet written his first great masterpiece, the “Enigma” Variations, which would establish him as the first great English composer since Henry Purcell. That work would appear only three years later; for now, Elgar was known primarily as the composer of charming, if not terribly profound, salon pieces.

The modest Serenade was composed in 1892, as a gift for his wife Alice on their third wedding anniversary. Throughout their married life, Alice would be an inspiration to his creativity; he would say later that Alice “helped make these little tunes.” It is believed, however, that the Serenade derives from an earlier group of three pieces, written in 1888 for the Worcestershire Musical Union, a women’s orchestra that he led. The manuscript for the earlier pieces was lost, and possibly never performed.
In his youth, Elgar had aspired to being a concert violinist. Though he never reached virtuoso status, his experience lent him an affinity for writing for strings. Though he would later become known as a composer of “big works,” the Serenade would remain one of his own favorite pieces for the rest of his life. At his last recording session, in 1933, it would be one of the pieces he chose to record.
The Serenade is in three short movements, beginning with an Allegro piacavole (the second word meaning “agreeable”), with a lively first theme and wistful second subject. The heart of the work is in the second movement, Larghetto, parts of which seem to foreshadow the famous “Nimrod” variation from the “Enigma” Variations. The gentle mood continues in the final movement, a sort of idealized country dance, animated but strangely subdued. The movement ends with a reminiscence of the opening movement.
 
Sergei Rachmaninov (1873-1943)
Vocalise, op. 34 no. 14 (1915)

 
During his lifetime, and for some years after, the music of Rachmaninov was the subject of controversy in certain circles; not because of extreme radicalism, but for precisely the opposite reason. At a time when old ideas were being discarded right and left, Rachmaninov unapologetically adhered to the ideals of Russian Romanticism as exemplified by Tchaikovsky and Tanayev. Despite his popularity with audiences he was often criticized for stubbornly sticking to an aesthetic outlook that was already obsolete. The 1954 edition of Grove’s Dictionary of Music and Musicians describes his music as “monotonous in texture, consisting mainly of endless repetitions of artificial and gushing tunes.” Harold C. Schonberg, in his 1970 book Lives of the Great Composers called this remark “one of the most outrageously snobbish and even stupid statements ever to be found in a work that is supposed to be an objective reference.” Indeed, many of Rachmaninov’s works are now standard repertory items, and his esteem among music lovers has only increased.

The chief characteristics of Rachmaninov’s music are a tendency toward melancholy expression, rich textures, and a great gift for melodic writing. All these tendencies are well evidenced in the Vocalise, as perfect a romantic miniature as one could hope to find.
The manuscript of Vocalise, for voice and piano, is dated September 21, 1915, though it may have been sketched some years earlier. It was included in his 14 Songs, op. 34, as the last of the collection, even though calling it a “song” strains the definition of the term somewhat. A “Vocalise,” by definition, is a vocal work without text; the singer performs the melody on a sustained vowel sound, almost always “ah.” Though lacking a text, the Vocalise quickly became the most popular item in the set, and one of his most performed compositions, due the loveliness of the vocal melody.

The nature of the melody makes it easily adaptable to instrumental writing. It can be performed, without alteration (except for transposition), by almost any instrument. The accompanying texture, while rich, is carefully written with every element clearly defined, making it adaptable to larger instrumental combinations. Rachmaninov himself created two orchestral versions, one with soprano and one without. Many other composers have also made transcriptions for a variety of ensembles.
 
Johann Strauss, Jr. (1825-1899) and Josef Strauss (1827-1870)
Pizzicato Polka (1869)

 
            While Johann Strauss, Jr. is certainly the most famous member of the Strauss family, remembered to this day as the “Waltz King,” his brothers Eduard and Josef were also active as Waltz composers and bandleaders. Josef came to the family business in a roundabout way, having first pursued a career as an architect and mechanical engineer. When Johann took ill in 1853, Josef was pressed into service as leader of his brother’s orchestra. Believing the situation to be a temporary one, Josef produced his first composition, titled “First and Last Waltzes.” To his surprise, the waltzes were a hit, so he wrote another set titled “The First After the Last.”

            Johann eventually recovered and got back to work, but Josef continued to serve as an occasional substitute, often at a moment’s notice. By 1856, he was ready to change careers permanently, and from that time forward, Johann and Josef shared conducting duties until Johann took a position with the Imperial court in 1863.

            The two brothers collaborated on the Pizzicato Polka in 1869, and Johann took it with him that year on a tour of Russia. The work proved very popular, especially in Italy, where Johann was to perform it on every one of his Italian concerts from then on.
 
Ralph Vaughan Williams (1872-1958)
Fantasia on a theme of Thomas Tallis (1909)

 
One of the most puzzling questions of music history is why England produced no notable composers for nearly two centuries. During the Renaissance and early Baroque periods, England was one of the most fertile musical countries in the world. But the death of Henry Purcell in 1695 seemed to usher in a long period of musical sterility, which would not end until Elgar’s Enigma Variations was premiered in 1899. Elgar’s masterpiece, which still defines the “English sound” in the modern concert hall, seemed to awaken a long-slumbering musical sensibility, and within a few years, English composers were cropping up all over.
This rebirth of English concert music was accompanied, and largely driven, by a nationalist sentiment, with musicians striving to capture an essentially English voice in their music. Many composers became involved in the effort to record and preserve the vast oral tradition of English folk song, already in danger of disappearing. Others found inspiration in reviving the glorious music of the 16th and 17th centuries. The hand of Ralph Vaughan Williams would be found in both movements.
In 1904, Vaughan Williams reluctantly took on the responsibility of editing a new version of the English Hymnal. He did so despite deep misgivings, mainly due to the fact that it would consume all his energies for at least two years, leaving him no time for his own work. As it turned out, his involvement with the project would have happy results. In researching new tunes for the Hymnal, he searched not only folk song collections, but melodies from earlier times. As he later admitted, “two years of close association with some of the best tunes in the world was a better musical education than any amount of sonatas and fugues.”
One of his most fortunate discoveries was of the nine tunes that Thomas Tallis (1505-1585) contributed to the 1567 English Psalter. Vaughan Williams loved all nine of Tallis’ melodies, but found the third one particularly irresistible. The Tallis melody was originally a setting of a metered adaptation of lines from Psalm 2 (“Why fumeth in sight: The Gentiles spite, In fury raging stout?”). In adapting it for the English Hymnal, Vaughan Williams chose a far more somber, meditative text, beginning “When rising from the bed of death.” In the American Episcopal Church, the tune is used with a text by Horatius Bonar beginning “I heard the voice of Jesus say, ‘Come to me and rest.’”

But Vaughan Williams found in Tallis’ melody a beauty transcending any text, and once his work in the Hymnal was done, he set about casting the tune in a purely instrumental context.

The Fantasia on a Theme of Thomas Tallis for double string orchestra with soloists was completed in 1909, and revised twice in 1913 and 1919. It was premiered at a festival in Gloucester Cathedral, and is heard at its best in such a large, resonant space. Vaughan Williams seems to have been inspired by the Renaissance practice of separating multiple choirs throughout the cathedral. The Fantasia is scored for a large string orchestra divided into three distinct groups; two string orchestras, one large and the other small, and a quartet of solo strings. At the outset of the Fantasia, all three groups are heard as one, but as the work progresses, they divide, alternate, echo each other, and join in various groupings. The overall effect is breathtakingly rich.
The Fantasia was Vaughan Williams’ first orchestral work, and probably remains his most popular. In reviewing the premiere, the critic J. A. Fuller Maitland said, “The work is wonderful because it seems to lift one into some unknown region of musical thought and feeling. Throughout its course one is never quite sure whether one is listening to something very old or very new. The voices of the old church musicians are around, and yet there is more besides, for their music is enriched with all that modern art has done since.”
 
©2009 Daniel Powers
 

Link to WFIU interview with Dr. Bowden.
 

 

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