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Krzysztof Zimowski

Krzysztof Zimowski

DAVID B. LEVY:

George Frideric Handel

Concerto for Harp in B-flat Major, Op. 4, No. 6, HWV 294 (1736)

George Frideric Handel was born in Halle, Saxony, on February 23, 1685, and died in London on April 14, 1759. German by birth, Handel became an English citizen after his permanent move there at the end of 1712. His reputation rests on a relatively small number of orchestral works and oratorios, Water Music and Messiah being chief among them. His output however, was much larger, including the composition of numerous Italian operas. His works include many instrumental pieces and several large-scale choral pieces. Especially important was his invention and establishment of the English oratorio, a genre that was picked up by composers such as Haydn later in the 18th century and the composition of which continues to this day. The Concerto for Harp dates from 1736 and was probably arranged from No. 6 of his Concerti for Organ published in 1738 by John Walsh. Its instrumentation calls for 2 flutes, strings, and cembalo. HWV refers to the catalogue of Handel’s compositions.

Handel’s Concerto for Harp, along with other instrumental works including a concerto for organ, was linked to the premiere performance of a two-part choral ode entitled Alexander’s Feast, or the Power of Musick by John Dryden. The concert took place in Covent Garden on February 19, 1736, in celebration of St. Cecilia, the patron saint of music. The feast of St. Cecilia falls on November 22 of each year and is still observed by musicians, especially in England. The German-born composer had achieved notoriety and popularity in London largely through his successful achievements in the world of opera, most notably operas in Italian. The success of Alexander’s Feast marked the beginning of Handel’s transition as a composer primarily of operas to the composition of oratorios. Starting in 1735, the presentation of instrumental works as intermission features between the acts of operas and oratorios, became a common occurrence.

The critical edition of Op. 4, No. 6/HWV 294 identifies the work as a “Concerto for Harp or Cembalo or Organ,” reflecting the fact that Handel, as always, was perfectly comfortable reusing his own compositions, as well as borrowing from other composers. The work is in three movements, the first of which is marked curiously as Andante allegro, suggesting that its tempo was more moderate than the latter word might imply. Its structure is an example of what analysts call rounded binary, whereby there are two sections, each of which is to be repeated. The first part shifts from the home key (B-flat Major) to the dominant (F Major), while the second half begins to explore other keys before returning home. All of this occurs within typical Baroque structure of ritornello form. The solo passages are unaccompanied by the other instruments until each one approaches its end. The second movement, Larghetto, is in the contrasting key of g minor, whose triple meter bears the characteristics of a sarabande, a common dance in the Baroque era. The end of the movement, as is characteristic of much of Handel’s music, presents the opportunity for a brief cadenza and concludes with an open cadence that leads to the third movement, marked Allegro moderato—a joyful triplemeter dance. ●

Debussy’s music is all about atmosphere. He uses tone color (timbre) and blurred harmony that toggles between purely tonal and modal …

Claude Debussy

Danses sacrée et profane for Harp and Strings, L. 103 (1904)

(Achille-) Claude Debussy was born on August 22, 1862, in Saint-Germain-enLaye (near Paris) and died in Paris on March 25, 1918. His Danses sacrée et profane for harp and strings dates from 1904, a period during which he was at work on his orchestral masterpiece La mer. The composer made a version for two pianos in that same year. The L number refers to François Lesure’s catalogue of the works of Debussy.

The chromatic harp was invented by Gustave Lyon in 1894. The idea behind the instrument was to eliminate the need for the seven pedals required to make the instrument fully chromatic (i.e., capable of playing the equivalent of all the black and white keys of the piano) by adding extra strings, creating a two-level instrument. While the instrument never actually replaced the pedal harp, the Paris harp manufacturer Pleyel sought in 1904 to get composers to create new works for the instrument that could be played on either version of the harp. Two prominent composers, Debussy and Ravel, were among those who responded to the challenge. Ravel’s offering was his Introduction and Allegro for harp, flute, clarinet, and string quartet (1907), while Debussy’s were the two dances to be heard on this program.

Debussy’s music is all about atmosphere. He uses tone color (timbre) and blurred harmony that toggles between purely tonal and modal (borrowed from Medieval and Renaissance pitch resources). Unlike German composers who made heavy use of contrary motion of pitch to give music a firm tonal grounding, the Frenchman prefers the technique of “parallel chords,” whereby the constituent members of each chord move in the same direction. This effect blurs a strong sense of harmonic motion that would serve to establish a clear sense of key. The ethereal Danse sacrée is an excellent example of this technique. The key signature of one flat suggests the possibility of either F Major or d minor. Debussy allows the music to float effortlessly from one to the other, often with modal inflections that defy either key. The more animated Danse profane (the latter word should be thought of as “secular,” as opposed to its English cognate) has two sharps in the key signature, and it does lean toward the key of D Major. While the first dance evokes a mystical religious ritual, the second is a waltz-like affair that skips along.

While the chromatic harp for which these two short dances were composed may have fallen into disuse, harpists are grateful to have these wonderfully evocative and beautiful works as part of the instrument’s repertoire. While easy on the ear, Debussy challenges the soloist with arpeggios, glissandos, and the whole array of techniques. ●

Maurice Ravel

Mother Goose (Ma mère l’oye) Suite (1911)

Maurice Ravel was born in Ciboure, Basses Pyrénées, France, on March 7, 1875, and died in Paris on December 28, 1937. His Mother Goose Suite began its life as a set of short pieces for piano, fourhands. This version was first performed by Jeanne Leleu and Geneviève Durony on April 20, 1910. The composer orchestrated it in 1910, adding additional movements in 1911 to form it into a ballet. The ballet received its first performance on January 28, 1912. The work is scored for 2 flutes, piccolo, 2 oboes, English horn, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, contrabassoon, 2 horns, celesta, timpani, glockenspiel, triangle, cymbals, bass drum, tam-tam, xylophone, harp, and strings. One of Ravel’s most charming scores, Mother Goose (1908–1910) began as a set of five piano duets (Ma mère l’oye: Cinq pièces enfantines) written for the talented children of his friends Ida and Cyprien (“Cipa”) Godebski. In 1911, Ravel orchestrated these pieces, but then changed their order and interpolated two additional movements and several interludes to form a ballet that was first performed at the Théâtre des Arts in Paris on January 28, 1912. What is referred to as the Mother Goose Suite is Ravel’s orchestration of the five original movements in their original order.

The source for the stories of “Pavane of the Sleeping Beauty” and “Hop-o’ my Thumb” (better known as “Tom Thumb”) were taken from the 1697 anthology Histoires ou contes du temps passé, avec des moralitez (Histories or Tales From Days of Yore, With Morals) by Charles Perrault. Countess d’Aulnoy, a contemporary of Perrault, was the source for “Laideronnette, Empress of the Pagodas.” Marie Leprince de Beaumont’s 1757 Children’s Magazine of Moral Tales (Magazin des Enfants, Contes Moraux) was the source for “The Conversations of the Beauty and the Beast.” The final movement, “The Fairy Garden,” stems from Ravel’s own vivid and childlike imagination.

I. Pavane of the Sleeping Beauty (Pavane de la Belle au bois dormant). A gentle flute begins the slow dance symbolizing the Good Fairy who watches over Florine, the sleeping Princess.

II. Hop-o’ my Thumb (Petit Poucet). Ravel placed a quotation from Perrault at the head of the score: “He believed that he would have no trouble finding his way because of the breadcrumbs that he had strewn wherever he went. But he was surprised when he could not find a single piece; the birds had come and eaten them all.” Meandering figures in the violins portray the lost Tom Thumb. In the middle of the movement, one can hear the birds arrive.

III. The Ugly Little Girl, Princess of the Pagodas (Laideronnette, Impératrice des Pagodes). This story is from Mme d’Aulnoy’s “Green Serpent” (Serpentin Vert). A princess has been turned into an ugly little girl by a wicked witch. One day, as she was walking through a forest, she happened upon a Green Serpent, a handsome young prince who also had been transformed. They take a voyage together and find themselves shipwrecked in a country populated by small people with bodies made of jewels, crystal, and porcelain (Pagodas), and whose king is none other than the Green Serpent. The story ends happily as the two travelers are restored to their original form and are married. Again, Ravel provides the specific part of the story portrayed in the music: “She disrobed and placed herself in the bath. Suddenly, pagodas and pagodines began to sing and play their instruments. Some had theorbos made of walnut shells; some had violas made of almond shells, because they had to adjust the instruments to their shape.” The delightful piccolo solo introduces an Asian theme based on a pentatonic (five-note) scale. The middle section presents a new, more solemn melody, whose cadences are punctuated by the tam-tam. Ravel’s vaunted orchestrational skills are highly evident in this charming movement.

IV. The Conversations of the Beauty and the Beast (Les entretiens de la Belle et de la Bête). This moving story is known by one and all. In Mme Leprince de Beaumont’s own words (again affixed to Ravel’s score): “‘—When I think of your good heart, you no longer seem ugly to me’—‘O! damsel, yes! I have a good heart, but I am a monster’—‘There are many men more monstrous than you.’—‘If I had the intelligence, I would pay you a great compliment in reply, but I am only a Beast … Beauty, do you wish to be my bride?’— ‘No, Beast! …’ … ‘I would die contented since I had the pleasure of seeing you one more time.’—‘No, my dear Beast, you will not die. You will live to become my spouse!’ … The Beast had disappeared, having been replaced by a prince, more beautiful than Love itself, who thanked her for breaking the spell.”

Ravel transforms these dialogues into a waltz, with the clarinet representing the voice of the Beauty and the contrabassoon portraying the Beast.

V. The Fairy Garden (Le jardin féerique). Beginning quietly in the strings, this epilogue grows in intensity, ending joyously with the orchestra in full array displaying all its colors. ●

Darius Milhaud

Le Bœuf sur le toit (The Ox on the Roof) (1919–1920)

French composer Darius Milhaud was born in Marseilles on September 4, 1892, and died in Geneva on June 22, 1974. He was a prolific composer of tremendous range that spanned virtually all genres, and was a member of “Les Six,” a group of French and Swiss modernists that included, among others, Francis Poulenc and Arthur Honegger. Le Bœuf sur le toit is an orchestral work that eventually was developed by Jean Cocteau into a ballet. It received its first performance in this guise on February 21, 1920, at the Comédie des Champs-Élysée under the baton of Vladimir Golschmann. The original scoring calls for a chamber orchestra comprising 2 flutes, one doubling piccolo; oboe; 2 clarinets; bassoon; 2 horns; 2 trumpets; trombone; güiro (or washboard) tambourine, bass drum, and cymbals; and strings. Milhaud made several arrangements of the score: for violin and orchestra, violin and piano, and two pianos.

What an audacious world awaited the visitor to Paris in 1919! The madness of the First World War had passed, and artistic ferment again was in the air. Everything was new, everything was possible, and virtually nothing was sacred. With Erik Satie and Jean Cocteau as the leaders of a new artistic wave, the simple, common, yet magical world of the café and the music hall would be the model. The world was a circus. Such was the cultural milieu that gave rise to a musical score as saucy as Milhaud’s Le Bœuf sur le toit (The Ox on the Roof), a piece filled with as much Gallic wit as one could ever hope to find.

The title of the piece comes from a popular Brazilian song. Milhaud, who grew up in Aix-en-Provence, had established a close working relationship with the playwright Paul Claudel in the 1910s. When Claudel was appointed as French minister to Rio de Janeiro in 1916, Milhaud accompanied him as his secretary. The composer remained there for two years, which gave his lively mind ample time to soak up the native culture. As Milhaud himself wrote, he “assembled [in Le Bœuf] a few popular melodies, tangos, maxixes, sambas, and even a Portuguese fado, and transcribed them with a rondo-like theme recurring between each successive pair.” He further explained that the music might be appropriate as background for one of Charlie Chaplin’s films. Cocteau, however, proposed creating a radical new kind of ballet filled with Chaplin-esque slapstick, but with surreal touches, such as slowmotion action. The setting became an American bar (“The Nothing Doing Bar”) during Prohibition, peopled by all sorts of colorful characters.

Milhaud’s music may strike the listener as somewhat chaotic, with its circus-like atmosphere, and overlapping of themes and tonalities. Indeed, the piece is carefully constructed, bearing similarities to Johann Sebastian Bach’s Goldberg Variations. The very first theme, possibly a quotation of a Brazilian tune (some maintain it is an original tune by Milhaud himself), is heard thirteen times throughout the piece, with each occurrence separated by an episode. The episodes comprise quotations of no fewer than twenty by fourteen different Brazilian composers. Such rondo-like arrangements may also be traced back to the composer’s 18thcentury French musical ancestors François Couperin and Jean-Philippe Rameau. Not unlike Bach, Milhaud follows a severely strict grid of key relationships that move through a carefully planned cycle of tonalities. Thus, each time the original tune comes back, it is in a different key, until Milhaud returns it to C Major, the tonality in which the piece began. As the truism goes, in good comedy, timing is everything. And as in a good circus, the tricks ought to appear effortless. Le Bœuf sur le toit qualifies on both counts. After all, just how did the ox end up on the roof? ●

… in good comedy, timing is everything. And as in a good circus, the tricks ought to appear effortless. Le Bœuf sur le toit qualifies on both counts.

Henryk Wieniawski

Violin Concerto No. 2 in d minor, Op. 22 (1856–1862)

Violin virtuoso and composer Henryk [Henri] Wieniawski was born in Lublin, Poland, on July 10, 1835, and died in Moscow on March 31, 1880. The most famous of a family of musicians, Wieniawski exhibited remarkable talent as a violinist at a very young age, having performed concerts already by the age of 8. His early studies in Poland led him to audition for the Paris Conservatoire in 1843, where by 1846 he was awarded first prize. Two years later, he gave a series of concerts in St. Petersburg, where he was discovered by one of the great violin virtuosi of his time, Henri Vieuxtemps. This led him to tours throughout Eastern Europe and Finland. It was at this point in his career that he began to compose music. Starting in the 1850s, Wieniawski began touring more widely throughout Russia, Europe, the British Isles, and North America. This continued for several decades until his health failed. He also taught throughout his career, and many consider Wieniawski to be the true founder of the “Russian School” of violin technique. By the end of his life, he was one of the world’s most celebrated violinists.

Among Wieniawski’s many compositions for the instrument, his Violin Concerto No. 2 has been the most frequently performed. Composed between 1856 and 1862, its premiere took place in St. Petersburg on November 27, 1862, with Wieniawski as soloist and Anton Rubinstein conducting. When Wieniawski published the work in 1879, he dedicated it to yet another great virtuoso violinist, Pablo de Sarasate. It is scored for solo violin, 2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 2 horns, 2 trumpets, 3 trombones, timpani, and strings.

Many of us of a certain age recall 11-year-old Itzhak Perlman making his debut appearance on The Ed Sullivan Show on September 13, 1959, performing an arrangement of Borodin’s “Flight of the Bumble Bee.” He returned to the popular Sunday night variety show on May 10, 1964, now aged 16, performing the finale of Wieniawski’s Concerto No. 2. In this sense, the young virtuoso was following in the footsteps of one of music history’s greatest violin virtuosi. Needless to say, Perlman went on to accomplish many great things as his distinguished career progressed, even if Wieniawski’s concerto is nowadays not heard as frequently on concert programs as it once was. Nevertheless, the piece remains near and dear to the hearts of violinists throughout the world. Wieniawski’s name has been attached to an international violin competition in Poznań held every five years. The next competition is to take place in October 2022. Testimony regarding Wieniawski’s playing praises him for his richness of tone, fiery temperament, and spectacular technique. Using an unusual bow grip with an elevated elbow, he was renowned for his ability to play staccato passages in one bow stroke, a technique later identified as the “Russian grip.”

Arguably his finest composition, Wieniawski’s Violin Concerto No. 2 is a prime example of soaring melodies and virtuoso technique. These elements can be traced back to a host of late-eighteenth- and early-nineteenth-century concertos by Paganini, Spohr, Beriot, Vieuxtemps, and many others. Each of its three movements presents the soloist with multiple challenges, including the aforementioned upbow staccato, glissandi, double stops, octaves, and artificial harmonics. The first movement, Allegro moderato, is cast in an abbreviated sonata form that alternates between the darkly moody and the intensely lyrical. It leads without break into the beautiful second movement, marked Romance: Andante non troppo. The finale ensues without interruption. Marked Allegro con fuoco—Allegro moderato, it is a thrilling rondo in gypsy style (á la Zingara), made popular by many nineteenth-century violinists and composers. ●

Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky

Symphony No. 3 in D Major, “Polish,” Op. 29 (1875)

Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky was born on May 7, 1840, in Votinsk, Russia, and died on November 6, 1893, in St. Petersburg.* He remains one of the most popular composers of all time, beloved especially for his symphonies, ballets, and concertos. His Symphony No. 3 was composed in 1875 and received its first performance in Moscow on November 19, 1875, at the first concert of the Russian Musical Society under the baton of Nikolai Rubinstein. Because of the Polonaiselike dance rhythms in the work’s final movement, it sometimes is erroneously identified as the “Polish Symphony.” Tchaikovsky dedicated this symphony to Vladimir Shilovsky, a former student of his at the Moscow Conservatory, and at whose estate in Usovo he began the work’s composition. It is scored for 2 flutes, piccolo, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 4 horns, 2 trumpets, 3 trombones, tuba, timpani, and strings. [*These dates are according to the Gregorian calendar. In Tchaikovsky’s time, the Julian calendar was still in use. The difference was 13 days.]

Of Tchaikovsky’s six numbered symphonies (his Manfred Symphony bears no number), for some reason Symphonies Nos. 1 and 3 are performed relatively infrequently. Symphonies Nos. 4-6, of course, have proven quite popular, with No. 2 (“Little Russian”), composed in 1873, lagging a bit behind. If any music from his Symphony No. 3 sounds familiar to audiences today, it is most likely thanks to choreographer George Balanchine, who in 1967 used all but the symphony’s first movement as the score for the “Diamonds” section of his ballet Jewels. This symphony also distinguishes itself from its sister works by being cast in a major key.

The relative neglect of this work seems a bit unfair, given its many highly appealing qualities. It is fair to say that it lacks the sense of folksong-inspired spontaneity of his Symphony No. 2 or the dramatic depth of the last three symphonies. Nevertheless, Tchaikovsky’s use of dance idioms placed within a symphonic framework is a harbinger of the great ballet scores that followed years later. Tchaikovsky, who was ever self-critical about his compositions, acknowledged some weaknesses in his Symphony No. 3, but nonetheless acknowledged that in it he was making strides in handling the nuts and bolts of symphonic composition. For whatever flaws the work may have, it was well-received by critics. While it smacks occasionally of repetitiveness and predictability of phrase structure, there are more than enough factors, such as the brilliance of its orchestration and mastery of form, that opened the door for Tchaikovsky to make ever-greater strides toward creating the works that have won the devotion of musicians and audiences throughout the world.

Arguably his finest composition, Wieniawski’s Violin Concerto No. 2 is a prime example of soaring melodies and virtuoso technique.

The first of its five movements is marked Introduzione e Allegro that begins with a Tempo di marcia funebre in d minor. To begin a symphony in the major mode with an introduction in the minor mode was not unprecedented (Haydn’s Symphony No. 98 and Beethoven’s Symphony No. 4 are but two examples of this practice). Those who are familiar with the soundtrack by Hans Zimmer for the film Gladiator may suspect that he borrowed from Tchaikovsky’s introduction. This funereal mood eventually yields to the brightness of D Major for the main body of the movement, marked Allegro brillante.

The second movement, Alla tedesca, is a three-part waltz marked Allegro moderato e semplice that alternates between the keys of B-flat Major and g minor. Two quirky features distinguish its primary theme. Each phrase begins on the second beat of the measure and comes to a cadence on the second or third beat of each measure, which in triple meter are the weaker beats. This is followed by the Andante elegiaco third movement that toggles from d minor to B-flat Major and D Major. The movement provides ample opportunities for the woodwind instruments and horn to step into the foreground before the strings introduce a lyrical new theme. When the original theme reappears, a new element of triplets embellishes it as the triplets themselves take on a life of their own. The movement concludes with the return of the woodwinds to the foreground. The fourth movement is a duple-metered Scherzo (Allegro vivo) in b minor that features rapid-fire virtuoso passagework for all the instruments. An interesting moment arrives where a slower-moving folk-like tune appears in the solo trombone. The central trio is in the manner of a march in which Tchaikovsky cites a passage from the introduction to his 1872 Cantata in Commemoration of the Bicentenary of the Birth of Peter the Great.

The finale, Allegro con fuoco (Tempo di polacca), opens with the theme that led to the misnomer of this symphony as “Polish.” In point of fact, Tchaikovsky wrote many themes that are in the style of the polacca or polonaise, which in his day represented a cipher for the Romanov dynasty and Russian imperialism. The movement’s structure bears characteristics of both sonata and rondo form, with contrasting themes interspersed with the opening polacca theme. In addition to his brilliant scoring, Tchaikovsky demonstrates his command of imitative counterpoint (fugal writing) in this finale. But it is the rigorous energy of the opening theme itself that dominates the movement, which ends with an exciting Presto coda. ●

… the brilliance of [the “Polish’s”] orchestration and mastery of form opened the door for Tchaikovsky [to winning] devotion of musicians.

RON BRONITSKY:

Robert Alexander

Concerto Grosso for Strings, Op. 164 (1930–1931)

Robert Alexander was born in 1883 in Vienna, Austria. He was born and raised in a home on the site of a Beethoven residence, and the work of Schumann and Bach have been a conscious influence on his life and work.

Robert spent his early life in the musical company of an older sister and brother who practiced the piano. He began to play the violin at the age of 4 and two years later took up the study of piano.

He began his formal musical education at age 9 and wrote his first composition at age 14 in 1897. In 1898, he began studying organ at the Vienna Cäcilienverein with Dr. Hausleitner and Cyril Wolf. At the same time, he appeared in public for the first time as the accompanist for the violinist Edmund Weiss, who began introducing Robert’s first compositions for violin and piano to the general public.

After fighting in World War I in Russia, his musical career took off in 1919 when he gave a concert of his own compositions. In 1935, he was appointed choirmaster at St. Salvator in Vienna, and he served as an organist at the Vienna Augustinian Church. Under his direction, the choral performances at St. Salvator began to attract attention, and the formerly deserted 15th-century church was soon filled to capacity with music-loving audiences.

While in Vienna, he was a highly soughtafter composer for some of the Viennese operatic singers during the early 20th century and wrote many works dedicated to these singers.

His music may be divided into five categories: • Compositions for orchestra, organ, and piano • Chamber music • Songs • Operas • Church music In 1939, he emigrated to New York, one of the last Jews to escape from Vienna after Hitler invaded Poland in September of that year. He continued his career as an organist and a composer in New York until his death in 1966. His collective repertory has more than 400 works primarily dedicated to piano, organ, liturgical music, chamber music, and violin solo. In New York, his work was heard in his own concerts, in St. Patrick’s Cathedral, and over the Columbia Broadcasting Radio Network.

Robert’s only child, his daughter Hedwig, married Jacob Bronitsky, MD. They moved to Albuquerque in 1955. Robert is survived by his grandchildren who all grew up in Albuquerque—Ann Admoni (Israel) and Gordon and Ronald, who still live here.

The Concerto Grosso for Strings, Op. 164, was composed between 1930 and 1931 and it is scored for Violin I and II, Viola I and II, Cello I and II, and Bassi I and II. The work has five movements: I. Grave; II. Fugue; III. Elegie; IV. Fugue; and V. Allegro. This performance represents the American premiere of this work. ●

DR. BRETT ROBISON:

Bradley Ellingboe

Requiem (2002)

Scored for alto soloist, choir, 2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 2 horns, 2 trumpets, percussion, harp, and strings. (Approximately 45 minutes).

Bradley Ellingboe is a prolific choral composer who has more than 150 choral compositions and four large choralorchestral works in print. Requiem was composed while Ellingboe was on sabbatical in fall 2001. His first choralorchestral work, Requiem, received its premiere on the stage of the University of New Mexico’s Popejoy Hall on April 16, 2002. Since the premiere, Requiem has seen more than 300 performances throughout the world, including a Carnegie Hall performance of the work conducted by the composer in 2010. Tonight’s performance serves as a celebration of the 20th anniversary of the premiere of Requiem and its widespread success that has followed over the past two decades.

The Requiem Mass originates from the 10th-century Roman Catholic Church. The Missa pro defunctis, or “Mass for the dead,” was sung on behalf of the departed on the day of burial, or the anniversary of the person’s death. The name of the Requiem Mass is derived from the first lines of the Introit of the Mass: Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine (Grant them eternal rest, Lord). After the Protestant Reformation of the 16th century, the newly formed Lutheran and Anglican denominations forbade the use of the Catholic Requiem Mass. This theological change ushered in the German Requiem (or Protestant Requiem) tradition that would take root in 17thcentury Germany. Johannes Brahms’s Ein Deutsches Requiem, Op. 45 (1868) is the most famous example of this tradition. One of the primary differences between the Catholic and Protestant Requiem traditions is for whom they are written: The Catholic Requiem is a mass for the person who died, while the Protestant/German Requiem was written to comfort those who remain. Ellingboe’s Requiem pays homage to both the Catholic and Protestant Requiem traditions. With the juxtaposition of texts from both the Catholic Requiem Mass, as well as texts compiled by the composer, Ellingboe’s Requiem is a modern Requiem that demonstrates an understanding of the Requiem form, history, and tradition.

Bradley Ellingboe was raised in a Norwegian-American family in Lakeville, Minnesota. Ellingboe and his extended family take great pride in their heritage, which has specifically included a lifelong interest in the music of Norway, studying the Norwegian language, and numerous trips to Norway. Bradley Ellingboe is also a Grieg scholar who published two volumes of Grieg songs with phonetic transcriptions of the Norwegian texts. Ellingboe was knighted by the King of Norway for his scholarly work on Grieg’s music.

There is a clear influence of Ellingboe’s Norwegian roots and Grieg’s music in Requiem. The Norwegian folk tune Jeg lagde mig saa silde is the primary melodic material for Movement III, Graduale, and Movement VII, Agnus Dei. This Norwegian folk song tells the story of a man who was about to go to sleep one evening when he received word that his lover was sick. He rode quickly to her through the night, but by the time he arrived at her house she had already died. Ellingboe felt the subject matter of the folk song was especially fitting for a Requiem. He also liked that the folk tune was both major and minor, and, in his words, “both light and darkness.”

Graduale starts with a lamenting cello solo, first introduced in Movement I, Introit, which works as a leitmotif. A leitmotif is a musical motto, or theme, which recurs in a piece of music to represent a character, object, emotion, or idea. The cello solo works as a leitmotif and represents the lament of the people left behind to grieve and appears in movements I, III, and VIII, serving as a unifying feature. Other than the octave leap at the beginning of the cello solo, it very much sounds like a folk tune related to Jeg lagde mig saa silde.

Ellingboe felt the subject matter of the folk song was especially fitting for a Requiem. […] “both light and darkness.”

Movement V, The Lord’s Prayer, was first published as a separate octavo a year before Ellingboe began composing the larger work, Requiem. This movement is the source of most of the important motivic and melodic content. Ellingboe uses the opening three pitches of The Lord’s Prayer melody as a motive that appears throughout Requiem, specifically, the descending pitches C-B-G and the corresponding intervals of a minor second and major third. This motive first introduced in the opening measures of Requiem reappears in original form, and in variation, throughout the larger work. This short motive, commonly used in Norwegian folk music, is also the opening motive in Grieg’s well-known Piano Concerto in a minor, Op. 16. The motive serves as a cohesive device in Ellingboe’s Requiem and has been labeled by music scholars as the “Grieg motive.”

Ellingboe’s Requiem is also a musical representation of the experience of losing a loved one. The universal experience of the mourning process largely influenced the architecture, text choices, melodies, keys, and other musical choices in Requiem. The overall emotional progression in Ellingboe’s Requiem can be charted with the movement to the “nadir,” or lowest moment in the mourner’s grief, and then the rise to the “zenith,” or highest moment, representing the final stage of grief and loss: acceptance. The well-known Kubler-Ross stages of grief are denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance. In charting an emotional progression, Ellingboe includes four of the five stages in his Requiem and uses musical devices to express these stages of grief. Movements I and II, Introit and Kyrie, are musical representations of the stages of grief known as denial and anger. Movement III, Graduale, represents the stage of grief known as depression. Movement IV, Psalm, is clearly a movement of anger. The central movement, The Lord’s Prayer, is where the grief begins to move toward acceptance. Movements VI, VII, and VIII continue the upward progression, with movement IX (“Evensong”) creating the zenith of emotional release. Movement X echoes movement I, creating balance and a formal conclusion to the work.

There are many layers to Ellingboe’s choral-orchestral work, Requiem. The Requiem Mass traditions, Norwegian folk music and motives, Grieg’s music, and the emotional progression of grief all played significant roles in the composition process. The masterful way in which Ellingboe weaved all these elements into Requiem explains the worldwide success of this impactful work. ●

DAVID B. LEVY:

Hector Berlioz

Roman Carnival Overture, Op. 9 (1843)

(Louis) Hector Berlioz was born in CôteSaint-André on December 11, 1803, and died in Paris on March 8, 1869. He was one of France’s most imaginative composers of the Romantic era, admired for his innovative orchestrations and brilliance of expression. The Roman Carnival Overture (Le carnaval romain), composed in 1843 and given its premiere in Paris’s Salle Herz on February 3, 1844, under the composer’s direction, includes themes from his opera Benvenuto Cellini of 1838. It is scored for 2 flutes (2nd doubling piccolo), 2 oboes (2nd doubling English horn), 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 4 horns, 2 trumpets, 2 cornets, 3 trombones, timpani, percussion, and strings.

Berlioz’s plan to write a comic opera based on the life of the Florentine sculptor Benvenuto Cellini (1500–1571) dates to 1834, the year in which the composer completed his second symphony, Harold in Italy. By this time, Italy was no stranger to Berlioz as he had lived there under the rules of the Paris Conservatory’s coveted Prix de Rome. Despite Berlioz’s reluctance to leave Paris when the success of his sensational Symphonie fantastique (1830) held the promise of even greater fame and fortune, the sojourn in Italy had its benefits, too. Berlioz’s encounter with a newly published translation of Cellini’s autobiography provided ample material for the opera. Like Berlioz himself, who later in life would publish his own lively Memoires, Cellini was a rebel. The premiere of the opera was delayed due to considerable political intrigue, but it immediately became a cause celèbre, drawing praise from the composer’s admirers, and derision from his enemies. Only the overture was an undisputed success. In 1844, Berlioz again returned to the music of Benvenuto Cellini to fashion another popular overture, The Roman Carnival. Both overtures display Berlioz’s brilliant orchestration and his penchant for combining two themes— one fast and one slow—in counterpoint. Roman Carnival makes use of two themes taken from Benvenuto Cellini. The livelier of the themes is taken from a carnival scene from Act II that takes place in Rome’s Piazza Colonna. The slower and more lyrical one, featuring the English horn (cor anglais) and viola section, derives from the duet between Cellini and Teresa from Act I.

Berlioz was one of the first composers in the nineteenth century to write a treatise on orchestration, his Grand traité d’instrumentation et d’orchestration modernes published in 1843. His Roman Carnival Overture brilliantly demonstrates his skill at producing stunning and exciting orchestral colors. ●

Roman Carnival Overture brilliantly demonstrates [Berlioz’s] skill at producing stunning and exciting orchestral colors.

Vítĕzslava Kaprálová

Suita Rustica, Op. 19 (1938)

Czech composer and conductor Vítĕzslava Kaprálová was born in Brno on January 24, 1915, and died in Montpellier, France, on June 16, 1940. She exhibited an early talent for music that led her to study at the Brno Conservatory where she studied musical composition. Her studies continued at the Prague Conservatory where she added conducting to her curriculum. In 1937, she moved to Paris, taking composition lessons from fellow Czech ex-patriot Bohuslav Martinů, and conducting lessons with Charles

Munch (who later became conductor of the Boston Symphony Orchestra). Her untimely death at age 25 in 1940 is attributed to typhoid fever, although the official diagnosis was miliary tuberculosis. Had she lived longer, there is little doubt that Kaprálová would have gone on to compose many other works, as well as increase her reputation as a conductor. As it was, her music found advocacy by many fellow Czech musicians, including conductor Rafael Kubelík and pianist Rudolf Firkušný. Suita rustica, composed in 1938, was her last composition, receiving its first performance on April 16, 1939, with the Radio Brno Orchestra under the baton of Břetislav Bakala. It is scored for 2 flutes, piccolo, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 4 horns, 2 trumpets, 3 trombones, tuba, timpani, percussion, harp, and strings.

Vítĕzslava Kaprálová’s Suita rustica, dedicated to musicologist Otakar Šourek, has been described by Judith Marbary as a work with “many appealing moments of exquisite lyricism and innocent exuberance.” Using a wealth of folk borrowings, the three-movement work takes its place proudly in the lineage of her Czech predecessors Smetana, Dvořák, and Janáček. Indeed, her Military Sinfonietta, Op. 11 (1938), was undoubtedly inspired by the latter’s Sinfonietta (1926). Living in Paris, Kaprálová was also influenced by Igor Stravinsky’s music, most especially his 1910 ballet Petrushka.

The influence of Stravinksy’s ballet is most apparent in the first movement, Allegro rustico, where a festive kaleidoscope of orchestral sound with shifting meters creates the kind of carnival atmosphere that grabs the listener’s attention immediately. Kaprálová introduces two folk tunes in this movement: the Moravian song “The nightingale flew over Javorník” and the energetic Slovakian melody “Whose is it, this un-ploughed little field?” The central part of the second movement, Lento-Vivo-Lento, will be familiar to those who know the furiant from Smetana’s popular folk opera The Bartered Bride, itself based, according to Mabary, on the dance “Farmer, farmer.” The more melancholic slow theme (Lento) borrows the Silesian melody “I had a little pigeon hidden in my wooden trunk.” The movement ends enigmatically, leading to the final movement, Allegro ma non troppo, which once again captures the spirit of the ballet scores Stravinksy composed based on Russian themes for Sergei Diaghilev’s Ballets Russes; The Firebird, Petrushka, and The Rite of Spring. The Czech folk tunes cited by Kaprálová are “You don’t have me yet” and “Good night Annie, the evening star is high in the sky.” About two-thirds of the way through this eclectic movement, the composer gives evidence of her skill in writing in imitative counterpoint. ●

Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy

Symphony No. 4 in A Major, “Italian,” Op. 90 (1833)

(Jacob Ludwig) Felix Mendelssohn (-Bartholdy) was born on February 3, 1809, in Hamburg and died on November 4, 1847, in Leipzig. Mendelssohn was one of the most important composers of symphonies in the first half of the 19th century. The “Italian” Symphony received its premiere May 13, 1833, in London under the baton of the composer. It is scored for 2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 2 horns, 2 trumpets, timpani, and strings.

Of the five mature symphonies by Mendelssohn, the one designated as the fourth has proved to be the most popular with audiences and is the one that is most frequently performed. The “Italian” Symphony had its origins during Mendelssohn’s 1830–1831 sojourn in Italy. It received its first performance in May 1833 in London with its composer, who also was one of the first renowned conductors, directing that city’s Philharmonic Society orchestra.

It may strike us as curious that the composition of this work was a difficult task for its brilliant young author, especially given the piece’s seemingly effortless melodic beauties and boundless energy. Mendelssohn grew up as a child prodigy, and he usually found composition to come to him with relative ease. But as he matured, Mendelssohn became more self-consciously aware of the work of other composers—both contemporaneous and from previous generations. This awareness led him to evaluate his own efforts with a more critical eye and ear. Throughout his life, Mendelssohn felt that the “Italian” Symphony was an imperfect work in need of revision. The judgment of history has found the work to be a perfect specimen of its kind.

Mendelssohn felt that the “Italian” Symphony was imperfect […] history has found the work to be a perfect specimen of its kind.

The first of the Symphony’s four movements is a brilliant Allegro vivace of high spirit. Among its arresting features are the rapid-fire woodwind chords that introduce, and subsequently accompany the first theme. The more solemn Andante con moto is alleged to have been inspired by a religious procession that the composer observed while in Naples. The stolid “walking” bass line and rapid changes of harmony give this movement a distinctly “Baroque” feel. This feature is not surprising in light of the composer’s lifelong interest in the music of Bach, the culmination of which came in his landmark 1829 performance of the monumental Passion According to St. Matthew. The third movement of the “Italian” Symphony is marked Con moto moderato, and it follows the ternary design (ABA) characteristic of the traditional minuet and trio. The finale, marked Presto, is identified in the score as a saltarello—a leaping Italian dance. In point of fact, however, Mendelssohn makes use of two dances in this finale. The saltarello with which it opens is identifiable by its staccato articulation. The second dance, a tarantella, uses the smoother legato (connected) articulation. A primary attraction of this movement is how skillfully the composer brings these dances together in counterpoint. A highly interesting and unusual feature of the finale is that it ends in the minor mode. One can identify any number of multi-movement works that begin in the minor mode and that end in the major. But to my knowledge, at least, the “Italian” Symphony is the only work that reverses this process. ●

Antonín Dvořák

Slavonic Dances, Op. 72, Nos. 2 and 7, B. 147 (1886)

The Czech master Antonín Dvořák was born in Nelahozeves, near Kralupy, on September 8, 1841, and died in Prague on May 1, 1904. B. 147 refers to Jarmil Burghauser’s thematic catalogue of the composer’s works, analogous to thematic catalogues such as the ones created by Köchel for the works of Mozart. Dvořák wrote two sets of Slavonic Dances. The first set, published as Op. 46, dates from 1878. Both collections were composed originally as works for piano four-hands. Op. 72 dates from the summer of 1886, and its eight dances were transcribed for orchestra between November 1886 and the following January.

Dvořák had few peers of his generation for creating musical compositions of comparable tunefulness and sheer delight. Loyal to his Czech origins throughout his life, he had the uncanny ability to create music that at once reflected his heritage while at the same time enchanted audiences across all national boundaries. It is important to bear in mind that the Czechlands in Dvořák’s day were still part of the old Habsburg Empire. Mindful of this nationality and inspired by Bedrich Smetana’s pathbreaking excursions into music that celebrated Czech culture, Dvořák began producing a large number of vocal and instrumental compositions of a decidedly Czech character by setting opera librettos and composing songs in his native tongue, as well as celebrating national dance idioms such as the polka and furiant.

Living virtually hand to mouth, Dvořák began submitting compositions to a panel of judges in Vienna in order to win stipends. He also supported himself by teaching and playing organ in churches. He was quite successful in getting financial support from Vienna. When Johannes Brahms became one of the Viennese judges in 1877, he immediately took an intense liking to Dvořák’s music, recommending to his publisher, Simrock, to start accepting Dvořák as worthy of attention. Thus began Dvořák’s international fame—a phenomenon that eventually brought him to the United States.

Despite some resistance to this Bohemian composer by some narrowminded Austrian musicians, Dvořák’s stature continued to rise both abroad and in his homeland. His works for piano duo became particularly well-loved, especially the two sets of Slavonic Dances, Op. 46 and 72 (1878 and 1886), and the Legends (Legendy, 1880-81). All these compositions subsequently were transcribed for orchestra by the composer. The two selections from Op. 72 on this concert are based on traditional Bohemian dances. No. 2 in e minor, labeled a Dumka (Allegretto grazioso), is an elegant and lyrical dance in triple meter, similar to a waltz. Its name is Ukrainian in origin. For Czech musicians, a Dumka toggles back and forth from melancholy to exuberance. In this case, the dance is in three sections. No. 7 in C Major is an example of a Kolo, a lively circle dance (Allegro vivace) popular in Slavic regions, often associated with weddings and other joyful religious celebrations. ●

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