12 minute read
JOHAN DALENE & GIORGI GIGASHVILI
PRELUDE 2 PM
Musical Prelude by students from the Colburn School
JOHAN DALENE, violin GIORGI GIGASHVILI, piano
Support for this program generously provided by:
Gordon Brodfuehrer Jeanette Stevens
SUNDAY, JANUARY 29, 2023 · 3 PM
THE BAKER-BAUM CONCERT HALL
ARVO PÄRT Fratres
(b.1935)
La Jolla Music Society’s 2022–23 season is supported by The Conrad Prebys Foundation, The City of San Diego Commission for Arts and Culture, Banc of California, The Lodge at Torrey Pines, ProtoStar Foundation, Vail Memorial Fund, ResMed Foundation, Bright Events Rentals, Ace Parking, Brenda Baker and Steve Baum, Raffaella and John Belanich, Gordon Brodfuehrer, Mary Ellen Clark, Teresa and Harry Hixson, Joan and Irwin Jacobs, Dorothea Laub, Jeanette Stevens, Debra Turner, and Bebe and Marvin Zigman. LERA AUERBACH Selections from 24 Preludes for Violin and Piano, Opus 46 (b.1973) No. 3 Andantino misterioso No. 4 Allegro No. 8 Andante
GRIEG Violin Sonata No. 3 in C Minor, Opus 45 (1843–1907) Allegro molto ed appassionato Allegretto espressivo alla Romanza Allegro animato
(1833–1897) Allegro Adagio Un poco presto e con sentimento Presto agitato
RAVEL Sonata in G Major for Violin and Piano
(1875–1937) Allegretto Blues: Moderato Perpetuum mobile Johan Dalene, violin; Giorgi Gigashvili, piano
Fratres ARVO PÄRT
Born September 11, 1935, Paide, Estonia Composed: 1980 Approximate Duration: 11 minutes
Arvo Pärt has endured a long and difficult path to his current prominence as a composer. Trained in Tallinn, Pärt supported himself for many years as a recording engineer for Estonian Radio and by writing film scores as he tried to make his way as a composer in a society rigidly controlled by conservative Soviet artistic dictates. Rebelling against the conformity and simplicity of that approach, Pärt began to experiment: first with serialism (at a time when that was discouraged in Soviet music), then with collage techniques, and later with the plainchant of early religious music. Without any knowledge of minimalism as it was then evolving in the United States, Pärt arrived at similar compositional procedures by himself, and his music is built on the same hypnotic repetition of simple materials, in his case often derived from early church music (a strong animating feature of Pärt’s music is his devout Orthodox faith). With his family, Pärt emigrated in 1980 and has lived in Germany since 1981.
Fratres exists in several different forms. Pärt originally composed it in 1977 for the Estonian early-music group Hortus Musicus. He then received a commission from the Salzburg Festival for a work for violin and piano based on Fratres, and this version—the one heard in this concert—was premièred at Salzburg onAugust 17, 1980, by Gidon and Elena Kremer. Pärt subsequently arranged Fratres for the twelve cellos of the Berlin Philharmonic and then for other ensembles. Each of these versions is slightly different, fitting in a work which is itself in variation form. The violin-piano version opens with a prelude for solo violin, a string of shifting arpeggios that grow out of near-inaudibility to triple forte. Powerful piano chords interrupt this progression, and then the piano lays out the three-measure ground bass—in 7/4, 9/4, and 11/4—that will repeat sixteen times, sometimes broken by near-static interludes.Above these inexorable chords, the violin spins out a sequence of variations in different speeds and moods. Fratres is exceptionally solemn and beautiful music: The piano’s chord progression has a cantus firmus dignity, and the violin variations complement and extend the solemnity of that line. The music remains poised—one might say serene— throughout the sixteen variations, which have detached, almost timeless quality, and finally Fratres fades into silence on the strange sound of the violin’s col legno chords. Selections from 24 Preludes for Violin and Piano, Opus 46 LERA AUERBACH
Born October 21, 1973, Chelyabinsk, Russia Composed: 1999 Approximate Duration: 9 minutes
In 1722 Bach wrote a set of preludes and fugues for keyboard in all twenty-four of the major and minor keys, and The Well-Tempered Clavier—full of wonderful, ingenious, and expressive music—has moved and haunted composers ever since. One of those haunted was Bach himself: twenty years later he wrote a second set of twenty-four preludes and fugues, and many composers have subsequently felt the pull of Bach’s achievement, among them Chopin, Rachmaninoff, Scriabin, and Shostakovich. Contemporary composers have felt drawn to that same challenge, perhaps none more than the Russian-American composer LeraAuerbach. In 1998, at the age of 25, she composed a set of 24 Preludes for Piano in all the major and minor keys, and the following year she composed two new sets of twenty-four preludes in all the major and minor keys, one for violin and piano and one for cello and piano. Auerbach has been quite direct in stating that—like Bach— she is drawn to “the value and expressive possibilities of the major and minor tonalities”: to composers, each key has its particular color and personality and demands a specific sort of music. Of the Preludes for Violin and Piano, she has said: “The special character of the pieces lies in regarding familiar things from an unexpected perspective and discovering that these things are not what they may seem to be at first glance.” That last sentence is important, forAuerbach will set all kinds of music side by side in these preludes. She can write the most appealing melodies, then surround them with weird sounds, sudden outbursts, slashes of unexpected color. This recital offers three of the 24 Preludes for Violin and Piano. No. 3 (G major) is built on a simple music box-like tune, but its sul ponticello presentation makes that innocent tune sound brittle and aggressive. In the violent middle section pounding piano chords pull us in a different direction, and suddenly the simple opening tune returns—and dissolves in front of us. No. 4 (E minor) begins with a perpetualmotion rush of almost demonic fury, and this makes its understated ending all the more effective. No. 8 (F-sharp minor) opens with a steady accompaniment from the piano, and above this the violin plays a serene melody in which some have heard a whiff of a Mozart piano concerto. Long glissandos deflate some of that serenity before the opening melody returns in artificial harmonics to bring the prelude to a poised conclusion.
Born June 15, 1843, Bergen, Norway Died September 4, 1907, Bergen, Norway Composed: 1887 Approximate Duration: 24 minutes
Grieg was never especially attracted to the sonata form so favored by nineteenth-century German composers like his good friend Johannes Brahms. While his most popular composition is his Piano Concerto, Grieg was happiest—and most successful—in smaller forms such as songs and pieces for solo piano. It should come as no surprise, then, that Grieg wrote so little chamber music: one cello sonata, one string quartet, and three violin sonatas. But despite its comparative rarity in his output, Grieg was interested enough in chamber music to write it throughout his career: his First Violin Sonata dates from 1865, when Grieg was only 22; the Third is one of his final works. Grieg’s violin sonatas are heard less often today than they were even a few decades ago, and this is unfortunate, for their combination of lyricism and passion should make them attractive to both the professional and amateur performer, as well as to audiences. Only the Sonata in C Minor has remained steadily in the repertory, and many record collectors today treasure a historic recording of this sonata by Kreisler and Rachmaninoff made in 1928. Grieg wrote his third—and last—violin sonata in the years 1886–87, when he was 43; the first performance took place in Leipzig in December 1887 withAdolph Brodsky as violinist and Grieg himself at the piano. In contrast to the more amiable first two sonatas, the Third is full of fire, and one feels this from the first instant of the Allegro molto ed appassionato, where the motto-like opening theme bursts out with no introduction. The second idea is more lyric, but the overall impression this movement creates is of continuous drama, particularly as the opening theme dominates the development, appearing in many registers and guises. Grieg’s tendency to develop a movement through repetition rather than through the growth of his thematic material is evident here. The movement arrives at its close on a fierce restatement of the opening theme. After the seething drama of the opening movement, the second brings welcome calm.As its title indicates, the Allegretto espressivo alla Romanza is a romance, an expressive movement in free form (here ternary form). Its opening subject, given entirely to the piano, is Grieg at his most intimate and lyric, and the violin repeats the entire section verbatim.An Allegro molto center section, sometimes characterized as a folk dance, provides animated contrast before violin and piano together restate the opening section. The beginning of the Allegro animato brings a surprise, for the violin’s opening theme is a variation of theAllegro molto center section of the previous movement. The stamping, dance-like rhythm of this theme is never absent for long in the final movement.At the climax, the music relaxes into a Cantabile passage for the violin over great arpeggios in the piano before the sonata concludes with a Prestissimo rush.
Born May 7, 1833, Hamburg Died April 3, 1897, Vienna Composed: 1888 Approximate Duration: 21 minutes
Brahms spent the summer of 1886 at Lake Thun in Switzerland. He had just completed his Fourth Symphony, and now—in a house from which he had a view of the lake and a magnificent glacier—he turned to chamber music. That summer he completed three chamber works and began the Violin Sonata in D Minor, but he put the sonata aside while he wrote the Zigeunerlieder (“Gypsy Songs”) and Double Concerto for Violin and Cello, grumbling that writing for stringed instruments should be left to “someone who understands fiddles better than I do.” He returned to Lake Thun and completed his final violin sonata in the summer of 1888. Despite Brahms’customary self-deprecation, his writing for stringed instruments could be very convincing, and the Third Violin Sonata is brilliant music—not in the sense of being flashy but in the fusion of complex technique and passionate expression that marks Brahms’finest music. The violin’s soaring, gypsy-like main theme at the opening of the Allegro is so haunting that it is easy to miss the remarkable piano accompaniment: Far below, the piano’s quiet syncopated octaves move ominously forward, generating much of the music’s tension. Piano alone has the second theme, with the violin quickly picking it up and soaring into its highest register. The development of these two ideas is disciplined and ingenious: In the piano’s lowest register Brahms sets a pedalAand lets it pound a steady quarter-note pulse for nearly 50 unbroken measures—beneath the powerful thematic development, the pedal notes hammer a tonal center insistently into the listener’s ear. Its energy finally spent, this movement gradually dissolves on fragments of the violin’s opening melody. The heartfelt Adagio consists of a long-spanned melody (built on short metric units—the meter is 3/8) that develops by repetition; the music rises in intensity until the doublestopped violin soars high above the piano, then falls back to end peacefully. Brahms titled the third movement Un poco presto e con sentimento, though the particular sentiment he had in mind remains uncertain. In any case, this shadowy, quicksilvery movement is based on echo effects as bits
of theme are tossed between the two instruments. The movement comes to a shimmering close: piano arpeggios spill downward, and the music vanishes in two quick strokes. By contrast, the Presto agitato finale hammers along a pounding 6/8 meter. The movement is aptly titled: this is agitated music, restless and driven.At moments it sounds frankly symphonic, as if the music demands the resources of a full symphony orchestra to project its furious character properly. Brahms marks the violin’s thematic entrance passionato, but he needn’t have bothered—that character is amply clear from the music itself. Even the noble second theme, first announced by the piano, does little to dispel the driven quality of this music. The complex development presents the performers with difficult problems of ensemble, and the very ending feels cataclysmic: the music slows, then suddenly rips forward to the cascading smashes of sound that bring this sonata to its powerful close.
Born March 7, 1875, Ciboure, France Died December 28, 1937, Paris Composed: 1927 Approximate Duration: 18 minutes
Ravel began making sketches for his Violin Sonata in 1923, the year after he completed his orchestration of Mussorgsky’s Pictures at an Exhibition. He was composing a number of works for violin during these years, including Tzigane, but the Violin Sonata proved extremely difficult for him, and he did not complete it until 1927. The first performance, by violinist Georges Enesco and the composer, took place on May 30, 1927, in Paris while that city was still in a dither over the landing of Charles Lindbergh the week before. In the Violin Sonata, Ravel wrestled with a problem that has plagued all who compose violin sonatas—the clash between the resonant, sustained sound of the violin and the percussive sound of the piano—and he chose to accentuate these differences: “It was this independence I was aiming at when I wrote a Sonata for violin and piano, two incompatible instruments whose incompatibility is emphasized here, without any attempt being made to reconcile their contrasted characters.” The most distinctive feature of the sonata, however, is Ravel’s use of jazz elements in the slow movement. The opening Allegretto is marked by emotional restraint. The piano alone announces the cool first theme, which is quickly picked up by the violin.Asharply rhythmic figure, much like a drum tattoo, contrasts with the rocking, flowing character of the rest of this movement, which closes on a quietly soaring restatement of the main theme. Ravel called the second movement Blues, but he insisted that this is jazz as seen by a Frenchman. In a lecture during hisAmerican tour of 1928, he said of this movement: “While I adopted this popular form of your music, I venture to say that nevertheless it is French music, Ravel’s music, that I have written.” He sets out to make violin and piano sound like a saxophone and guitar, specifying that the steady accompanying chords must be played strictly in time so that the melodic line can sound “bluesy” in contrast. The “twang” of this movement is accentuated by Ravel’s setting the violin in G major and the piano inA-flat major at the opening. Thematic fragments at the very beginning of the finale slowly accelerate to become a virtuoso perpetual motion. Ravel brings back themes from the first two movements before the music rushes to its brilliant close, which features complex string-crossings for the violinist.
