Season 9 (2012-2013)

PROGRAM
Falla El Amor Brujo: Ritual Fire Dance

Bruch Violin Concerto #1 in G Minor

Beethoven Symphony #4

CONDUCTOR

Ryan McAdams

SOLOISTS
Rachel Barton Pine, violin

VENUES
Fairmount Presbyterian Church, St. Colman Church, Shrine of St. Stanislaus Church, St. Noel Church, St. Mary Parishc

PROGRAM NOTES

To ward off evil spirits…

FALLA’S RITUAL FIRE DANCE

The strings play buzzing, shimmering trills – imagine the haze of a sultry night in Spain. The oboe sings an intricate, mournful song – a beautiful gypsy girl is haunted by the ghost of her dead lover. He was wicked, jealous and dissolute; he made her very unhappy when he was alive and now he returns whenever she is courted by someone new. But her latest lover has a plan to exorcise the jealous and malevolent spirit. A circle is drawn on the ground for a ritual fire dance that will draw the ghost to temptation and the flames.

There is an atmosphere of tension, of seduction and relentless bravura. Without resorting to musical clichés, Falla’s captures the passionate gypsy spirit.

It’s no surprise that this tiny number – just a few minutes long – became Falla’s greatest, and most characteristic, hit.

Beginning a fabulous career…

BRUCH’S FIRST VIOLIN CONCERTO

Max Bruch wrote three violin concertos but the one that’s famous today – and which made its composer famous – is the first, his Violin Concerto in G minor.

The soloist for the premiere in 1868 was Joseph Joachim. Many years later he described it as ‘the richest, the most seductive’ of the four great German violin concertos. And it still keeps company with the other three (Beethoven, Brahms and Mendelssohn), not to mention Tchaikovsky and Sibelius. At some point, every violinist plays Bruch’s first concerto.

Joachim absolutely nailed the reasons for the concerto’s popularity: from the first entry of the soloist, it spins enticing and heartfelt melodic lines.

For Bruch, melody was ‘the soul of music’ and the violin was the best instrument for ‘singing.’ The concerto’s lyrical qualities are balanced by brilliance, and the whole piece is satisfying to hear and rewarding to play. It’s greatly loved now, and was a near instant success when it was composed, soon enjoying what Bruch called ‘a fabulous career.’ But the concerto’s success must have held an element of frustration: he’d sold the full rights to a publisher for just 250 thalers.

The concerto begins with a prelude (Vorspiel in German). A soft drum roll makes the introduction, and then the soloist enters the spotlight – exchanging its own rhapsodic flourishes with emphatic gestures from the orchestra. Once the main theme begins, the violinist is called upon to play two-note chords – a virtuoso technique known as double-stopping that adds to the sonority and harmonic richness of the solo part.

The first movement makes a seamless transition to the second movement (Adagio) and here the concerto truly earns the adjective ‘seductive’. This is possibly the most beautiful slow movement ever written for a violin concerto and its gorgeous themes carry the music on a tide of emotion.

The third movement (Allegro energico) gives the concerto its energy and vitality. At times, the themes have a dance-like Hungarian gypsy flavor, at others they convey a soaring nobility. And all the while the solo part is exhilarating in its virtuosity.

T’A slender Greek maiden’

BEETHOVEN’S FOURTH

One of the most famous observations about Beethoven’s Fourth Symphony came from the composer Robert Schumann. He described the symphony as ‘a slender Greek maiden between two Nordic giants’.

The giants in question are the Eroica Symphony (No.3) and the Fifth. The Third is known for its heroic and monumental character; the Fifth for its emotional journey from despair to triumph. The compact Fourth Symphony might appear calm and serene, even ‘slender,’ by comparison with the surrounding drama and intensity but it’s audacious in its own way.

In some ways it’s remarkable that the Fourth Symphony is so different from Fifth, since Beethoven composed both symphonies almost concurrently. Work on the Fourth Symphony took place at the summer castle of Prince Lichnovsky. A regular guest there was Count von Oppersdorf, and on one occasion he heard a private performance of Beethoven’s Second Symphony. Impressed and delighted, the Count, who had an orchestra of his own in Poland, commissioned Beethoven to write another symphony, offering him 350 florins. The letters between them suggest that Beethoven initially planned to offer him his C minor symphony, then in progress. But for some reason, perhaps because the Count desired something closer to the spirit of the symphony he’d already heard, Beethoven set aside the stormy opening movements of what was to become the Fifth Symphony and began work on a quite different symphony in B flat major.

The new symphony was written quickly, almost spontaneously, and seems to be everything its neighbors are not. It is compact, graceful, balanced and apparently light-hearted. But the joy is subtle and we arrive there via a tragic introduction – in Beethoven ‘light cannot exist without darkness’. This introduction sets out in B flat minor, a key that Beethoven’s contemporaries would have associated with gloom and terror. Beethoven leads us through a heavy, sighing, fragmented atmosphere to the main part of the first movement (Allegro vivace), optimistic and tight-knit.

After the inventiveness of the slow second movement (Adagio) ¬with its exquisite writing for the wind instruments, there follows a tongue-in-cheek Minuet. This movement, gutsy and good-humored, expands its simple thematic ideas through alternating repetitions of the opening part of the movement (Allegro vivace) and a contrasting ‘trio’ section. The finale (Allegro ma non troppo) is brilliant, boisterous and sometimes surprising, with all the impetuous vigor we’d expect from Beethoven.

The proportions and scale of the Fourth Symphony are undeniably ‘classical’ – looking back to the symphonies of the previous century – and the musical language is less complex than in the Eroica symphony. So at least some of Beethoven’s contemporaries saw it as a welcome return to the style of his first two symphonies, free of Beethoven’s more fantastical and surprising gestures. But others heard something more in the symphony and accused it of crudeness, excessive detail, and a lack of dignified simplicity!

Yvonne Frindle © 2012

PROGRAM
Mozart Overture to The Marriage of Figaro

Mozart Oboe Concerto in C, K314

Mendelssohn Symphony No. 4 (“Italian”)

CONDUCTOR

Stefan Willich

SOLOISTS
Rebecca Schweigert Mayhew, oboe

CHOIR

Mt. Zion Choir

VENUES
Shrine of St. Stanislaus, Lakewood Congregational Church, St. Mary Parish, Fairmount Presbyterian Church, St. Noel Church

PROGRAM NOTES

MOZART AND MENDELSSOHN

When Mendelssohn’s Italian Symphony was premiered (in London in 1833), it shared the program with a Mozart concerto – not an oboe concerto, as it does in this program, but a piano concerto with Mendelssohn as soloist. Mendelssohn and Mozart have always gone well together. They both began their careers as child prodigies and both died far too young. More important, though, they share a sunny, Italian-inspired outlook and a desire to please and enchant their listeners.

A miniature overture…

MOZART’S MARRIAGE OF FIGARO

Mozart’s opera The Marriage of Figaro represents the revolutionary spirit and newfound egalitarianism of Europe in 1786. It was based on a French play in which a philandering count is bested by his much cleverer servant, Figaro – a daringly political theme on the eve of the French Revolution.

Even in Vienna the play was forbidden by the emperor, and Mozart and his librettist, Lorenzo da Ponte, had to soften aspects of the story to get the opera approved. The result transcends politics in its sympathetic portrayal of fallible characters and timeless human relationships.

The overture, although heard first in performance, was the last thing to be composed and it’s a miniature masterpiece. In just four minutes, Mozart sets up a bustling mood with brilliant orchestral writing – featuring trumpets and drums – and simple musical gestures that build anticipation for the drama and comedy to come.

The oboe goes to the opera…

MOZART’S OBOE CONCERTO IN C

The Marriage of Figaro was composed in Vienna, where Mozart moved to make his name and find fortune. But he began his career in Salzburg in the court of the archbishop. In 1777 a new oboist, Josef Ferlendis, joined the court orchestra, and it was for him that the Oboe Concerto in C major was composed. The following year another virtuoso, Friedrich Ramm of the famous Mannheim orchestra, played the concerto five times. It was evidently a success!

But for a long time this concerto was thought lost. It wasn’t until 1920 that it was discovered that the concerto known to flutists as the Concerto in D major was in fact an adaptation of the original oboe concerto. (A case of hasty repurposing on Mozart’s part to fulfil a commission from a rich amateur.) Now oboists have reclaimed it for their own and it is one of the most frequently programmed and recorded oboe concertos of all.

Mozart composed in nearly every genre of music, but his greatest achievements were in opera and the concerto. Although opera features the voice and the concerto features instruments, these two genres share a ‘vocal’ or lyrical motivation and a sure dramatic instinct. In the case of the concerto, the drama emerges in the contrast between the solo voice and the full orchestra.

This is something Rebecca Mayhew Schweigert keeps in mind when preparing for a performance of a Mozart concerto. Of course the music is technical and virtuosic, she says, but it is ‘still first and foremost dramatic and operatic, being Mozart.’

The overall mood is lighthearted and graceful. Like The Marriage of Figaro, the concerto belongs to the opera buffa or comic opera tradition, and the first movement (Allegro aperto or ‘fast and cheerful’) sets the scene with lively ideas and witty gestures.

The second movement (Adagio non troppo or ‘slow, not too much’) brings contrast and a feeling of seriousness. Then from the solemnity of the orchestral introduction there springs a gorgeous lyrical solo for the oboe. It would be easy to imagine the neglected Countess in Figaro singing a poignant aria at this point.

The finale offers a chance for extended virtuosity as the oboe plays solos in between repetitions of the main rondo theme. And the operatic spirit prevails: that perky rondo theme was to turn up four years later in an aria for The Abduction from the Seraglio.

Blue skies in A major…

MENDELSSOHN’S ITALIAN SYMPHONY

In the 19th century every young man of good family and sufficient means would be sent on a Grand Tour – traveling Europe, soaking up high culture, making connections and painting watercolors. At 20, Felix Mendelssohn – son of a Berlin banker, grandson of a leading philosopher – had already traveled widely and enjoyed a sophisticated liberal education, but in 1829 he embarked on his own three-year Grand Tour.

He visited Scotland (the inspiration for The Hebrides and his Scottish Symphony), Wales, England, Paris and Vienna, but the itinerary would not be complete without Italy. Venice…Rome…Florence…Naples… the land of “bright skies and warmth” inspired the sunny effervescence of the Italian Symphony, although it wasn’t finished until after Mendelssohn had returned to the grey skies of Berlin.

The Italian Symphony is the creation of a young man, full of optimism and confidence. Each of the four movements is characterized by non-stop rhythmic energy, almost manic by the time we get to the finale. And Mendelssohn begins the first movement as he intends to go on: brilliantly with a breathless, bounding momentum. (The tempo instruction is Allegro vivace or ‘fast and lively’.) At the same time, his trademark elegance of style keeps everything in check and the music never once loses its precision and lightness of touch.

The second movement (‘an easy walking pace’) may have been inspired by a religious procession Mendelssohn witnessed in Naples. It is like a walking meditation, beginning with music that suggests medieval plainchant and becoming more elaborate as flutes and violins spin their melodies above a solemn baseline. The graceful third movement isn’t called a minuet, but it occupies the same spot as the minuet would have done in a Classical symphony from Mozart’s day. There’s a change of feel in the middle, when the horns and bassoons are given poetic and nostalgic music that suggests Mendelssohn’s Midsummer Night’s Dream.

The finale (‘as fast as possible!’) features two Italian dances: the leaping saltarello to begin and end, and in the middle a tarantella, the whirling dance supposedly danced by victims of the tarantula! This movement has such an irresistible and joyous energy, it’s easy to overlook that (almost until the end) it’s in A minor, which in Mendelssohn’s day would have suggested a tender and sorrowful character. The Italian Symphony sounds effortless and fresh, and yet Mendelssohn thought it was “the most mature thing” he’d ever done. It remains one of his most popular creations to this day.

Yvonne Frindle © 2012

PROGRAM

Mozart Symphony No.26

Weber Clarinet Quintet for string orchestra

Haydn Symphony No.86

CONDUCTOR

None – to be lead by ensamble

SOLOISTS
Daniel Gilbert, clarinet

VENUES

Shrine of St. Stanislaus, Trinity Lutheran Church, Westlake City Schools Performing Arts Center, St. Noel Church, Fairmount Presbyterian Church

PROGRAM NOTES

A symphony at the theatre…

MOZART’S SYMPHONY NO. 26

This symphony from 1773 – when Mozart was still in his teens and employed in Salzburg – is shorter than most of Mozart’s symphonies from this time and has one fewer movement than you’d expect in a Classical symphony. In another departure from expectation, the three movements (fast–slow–fast) are played without pause. In fact, Mozart’s contemporaries would have recognized this symphony as much closer to an old-fashioned overture for the theatre (a ‘sinfonia’) than a symphony for the concert hall.

Other features make this symphony remarkable: Mozart uses pairs of flutes, oboes, bassoons, horns and trumpets, a relatively large ensemble more likely to be found in a theater than other institutions in 18th-century Europe. These orchestral colors – especially in the emphatic, chords of the beginning – give the music magnificence and presence despite its brevity. The first movement (Molto presto, as fast as possible) slides into music of a very different character, somber and impassioned (Andante). Then the music returns to its original assertive mood (Allegro), signaled by the re-entry of horns and trumpets. Symphony No.26 may be short, but it’s rich in emotion and variety – sure to grab your attention as the curtain rises.

Clarinet in the spotlight…

WEBER’S CLARINET QUINTET

Perhaps you’ve noticed: this is an orchestral concert without a conductor. That gives the performances a ‘chamber music’ quality, with the musicians working together as partners rather than looking to a single leader. So it’s appropriate that the ‘concerto’ on the program is really a piece of chamber music.

In its original form, this music by Carl Maria von Weber was a quintet for clarinet, two violins, viola and cello. And yet the clarinet part is so impressively virtuosic and the string parts so supportive, that it’s easy to imagine it as a concerto for clarinet and string orchestra. It’s even easier to make the conversion: two or more players are assigned to each string part and we’ve added a double bass to the cello line.

Haydn and Mozart both knew the clarinet in its earliest form, but the instrument really came into its own in the 19th century, during Weber’s lifetime, and one of the greatest virtuosos of the day was Heinrich Bärmann, for whom Weber composed all his works featuring solo clarinet.

The Clarinet Quintet is in four movements, following the Classical structure established by Haydn. It begins with a substantial movement (Allegro) in which the clarinet has every opportunity to show off its flexibility and mellifluous tone. The second movement is expressive and slow (Adagio non troppo). This is where Weber’s background as an opera composer comes to the fore: the movement is like an intensely felt vocal aria.

The third movement is a minuet (ostensibly a dance) marked Capriccio presto – literally a ‘caprice’ to be played as fast as possible! The soloist’s fingers might be dancing, but it would be nearly impossible to dance a minuet to this dazzling and whimsical music. Weber then brings the Quintet to a close with a joyous (giocoso) rondo finale. The cheerful main theme returns throughout the movement between brilliant interludes: imagine a crystal clear mountain stream burbling over polished stones.

An Austrian in Paris…

HAYDN’S SYMPHONY NO. 86

Our headline is misleading, because Haydn didn’t visit Paris in person. He spent much of his working life in the provincial estate of Eszterháza, where he claimed the enforced isolation was perfect for cultivating and original style. But although he stayed at home until he was in his late 50s, his fame as the greatest composer in Europe meant that his music was heard in all the major musical centers: Vienna, Paris, London. Not New York…

Haydn’s great legacy was as a composer of symphonies. It was he who crystallized the form of the symphony, developing it from the short, three-movement sinfonia structure that Mozart adopts in his Symphony No.26 to the four-movement Classical symphony that became the model for Beethoven and virtually every composer who has written a symphony since. If composers aren’t following Haydn’s lead, they’re consciously departing from it.

Haydn’s Symphony No.86 was one of a set of six composed on commission for a concert series in Paris. The occasion called for music that was ambitious and grand, which is one of the reasons why Haydn’s symphony in this concert lasts half an hour to Mozart’s ten minutes, even though the two works were composed within 12 years of each other.

Other things make Symphony No.86 sound grand. It’s in the key D major, which is the key in which trumpets sound their most brilliant, and this is a symphony with trumpets and drums. The effect is uplifting, triumphant and noisy. But that’s not how Haydn begins. The first movement has a slow introduction (Adagio), which he uses to establish the solemnity and importance of the occasion before he launches into much faster and more spirited music (Allegro spiritoso).

The second movement gives the concert its second ‘capriccio’. This one is slow (Largo) and serious in character, but nonetheless ignores conventions and is full of unexpected gestures. Pay attention at the very beginning, when the strings and bassoon play a simple rising sequence of four stately chords: from this foundation Haydn builds music with far-ranging harmonies and often abrupt shifts of mood.

One of the conventions that Haydn established in the Classical symphony was the third-movement minuet – borrowing a lively but elegant dance form from the French court. But the minuet in this symphony has the character of a more modern, Germanic dance: the waltz. In the middle is a contrasting Trio section: the oom-pah-pahs are plucked by the strings, while the woodwind instruments take turns at the graceful melody.

And then there is the finale, once more fast and with spirit (Allegro con spirito). It’s dazzling and energetic music and one writer astutely borrows from an 18th-century review to describe its ‘sublime and wanton grandeur’.

Yvonne Frindle © 2013

PROGRAM
Rossini The Thieving Magpie Overture

Dorman Uzu and Muzu from Kakaruzu

Schumann Symphony No. 4**

CONDUCTOR

David Alan Miller

SOLOISTS
Wendy Kriss, narrator

Avner Dorman**, narrator

Haruka Fuji, percussion

Luke Rinderknecht, percussion

VENUES
Shrine of St. Stanislaus, St. Noel Church, Fairmount Temple, Mary Queen of Peace Church, Cuyahoga County Juvenile Justice Center

**Evening concerts ONLY

PROGRAM NOTES

A symphony at the theatre…

MOZART’S SYMPHONY NO. 26

This symphony from 1773 – when Mozart was still in his teens and employed in Salzburg – is shorter than most of Mozart’s symphonies from this time and has one fewer movement than you’d expect in a Classical symphony. In another departure from expectation, the three movements (fast–slow–fast) are played without pause. In fact, Mozart’s contemporaries would have recognized this symphony as much closer to an old-fashioned overture for the theatre (a ‘sinfonia’) than a symphony for the concert hall.

Other features make this symphony remarkable: Mozart uses pairs of flutes, oboes, bassoons, horns and trumpets, a relatively large ensemble more likely to be found in a theater than other institutions in 18th-century Europe. These orchestral colors – especially in the emphatic, chords of the beginning – give the music magnificence and presence despite its brevity. The first movement (Molto presto, as fast as possible) slides into music of a very different character, somber and impassioned (Andante). Then the music returns to its original assertive mood (Allegro), signaled by the re-entry of horns and trumpets. Symphony No.26 may be short, but it’s rich in emotion and variety – sure to grab your attention as the curtain rises.

Clarinet in the spotlight…

WEBER’S CLARINET QUINTET

Perhaps you’ve noticed: this is an orchestral concert without a conductor. That gives the performances a ‘chamber music’ quality, with the musicians working together as partners rather than looking to a single leader. So it’s appropriate that the ‘concerto’ on the program is really a piece of chamber music.

In its original form, this music by Carl Maria von Weber was a quintet for clarinet, two violins, viola and cello. And yet the clarinet part is so impressively virtuosic and the string parts so supportive, that it’s easy to imagine it as a concerto for clarinet and string orchestra. It’s even easier to make the conversion: two or more players are assigned to each string part and we’ve added a double bass to the cello line.

Haydn and Mozart both knew the clarinet in its earliest form, but the instrument really came into its own in the 19th century, during Weber’s lifetime, and one of the greatest virtuosos of the day was Heinrich Bärmann, for whom Weber composed all his works featuring solo clarinet.

The Clarinet Quintet is in four movements, following the Classical structure established by Haydn. It begins with a substantial movement (Allegro) in which the clarinet has every opportunity to show off its flexibility and mellifluous tone. The second movement is expressive and slow (Adagio non troppo). This is where Weber’s background as an opera composer comes to the fore: the movement is like an intensely felt vocal aria.

The third movement is a minuet (ostensibly a dance) marked Capriccio presto – literally a ‘caprice’ to be played as fast as possible! The soloist’s fingers might be dancing, but it would be nearly impossible to dance a minuet to this dazzling and whimsical music. Weber then brings the Quintet to a close with a joyous (giocoso) rondo finale. The cheerful main theme returns throughout the movement between brilliant interludes: imagine a crystal clear mountain stream burbling over polished stones.

An Austrian in Paris…

HAYDN’S SYMPHONY NO.86

Our headline is misleading, because Haydn didn’t visit Paris in person. He spent much of his working life in the provincial estate of Eszterháza, where he claimed the enforced isolation was perfect for cultivating and original style. But although he stayed at home until he was in his late 50s, his fame as the greatest composer in Europe meant that his music was heard in all the major musical centers: Vienna, Paris, London. Not New York…

Haydn’s great legacy was as a composer of symphonies. It was he who crystallized the form of the symphony, developing it from the short, three-movement sinfonia structure that Mozart adopts in his Symphony No.26 to the four-movement Classical symphony that became the model for Beethoven and virtually every composer who has written a symphony since. If composers aren’t following Haydn’s lead, they’re consciously departing from it.

Haydn’s Symphony No. 86 was one of a set of six composed on commission for a concert series in Paris. The occasion called for music that was ambitious and grand, which is one of the reasons why Haydn’s symphony in this concert lasts half an hour to Mozart’s ten minutes, even though the two works were composed within 12 years of each other.

Other things make Symphony No. 86 sound grand. It’s in the key D major, which is the key in which trumpets sound their most brilliant, and this is a symphony with trumpets and drums. The effect is uplifting, triumphant and noisy. But that’s not how Haydn begins. The first movement has a slow introduction (Adagio), which he uses to establish the solemnity and importance of the occasion before he launches into much faster and more spirited music (Allegro spiritoso).

The second movement gives the concert its second ‘capriccio’. This one is slow (Largo) and serious in character, but nonetheless ignores conventions and is full of unexpected gestures. Pay attention at the very beginning, when the strings and bassoon play a simple rising sequence of four stately chords: from this foundation Haydn builds music with far-ranging harmonies and often abrupt shifts of mood.

One of the conventions that Haydn established in the Classical symphony was the third-movement minuet – borrowing a lively but elegant dance form from the French court. But the minuet in this symphony has the character of a more modern, Germanic dance: the waltz. In the middle is a contrasting Trio section: the oom-pah-pahs are plucked by the strings, while the woodwind instruments take turns at the graceful melody.

And then there is the finale, once more fast and with spirit (Allegro con spirito). It’s dazzling and energetic music and one writer astutely borrows from an 18th-century review to describe its ‘sublime and wanton grandeur’.

Yvonne Frindle © 2013