Program Notes
October 23 & 24, 2011
Mozart (1756-1791)
Quartet for Piano and Strings in G Minor, K.478 (1785)
The piano quartet as we know it today, i.e. piano, violin, viola and cello, with the instruments treated equally, dates back to this and its companion quartet, Mozart’s Quartet for Piano and Strings in E-flat Major, K.493. The demands he made on the instruments, particularly the keyboard, previously allocated to a subordinate role in such ensembles (mostly written for amateurs), led his publisher, Franz Anton Hoffmeister to withdraw his commission for a set of three piano quartets. Hoffmeister had published the G Minor Quartet in 1785, but told the composer it was too difficult and people would not buy it. Mozart completed the second quartet anyway and sold it to another publisher. The third quartet was never written. As it turned out, the piano quartets caught on quite well and were re-issued during Mozart’s lifetime and transcribed for four-hand piano and other combinations.
Mozart wrote comparatively few works in minor keys (only two of his 41 symphonies and two of his 27 piano concertos, for example). G minor has been called his key of fate, and the description fits his First Piano Quartet with its tersely dramatic opening statement announced in unison by all four instruments. The Andante second movement sets a more disconsolate mood. As if to break the spell, the third and final movement unfolds in high spirited G Major, wiping away any clouds of despair. Mozart has a surprise near the end where he inserts a deceptive cadence (an unexpected harmonic resolution) to reroute the movement briefly, after which it continues to a joyful, upbeat conclusion.
Turina (1882-1949)
Quartet for Piano and Strings in A Minor, Op. 67 (1933)
Son of a painter, Joaquín Turina was born in Seville. After showing remarkable facility on the accordion at age 4, he began studying piano. He soon discovered that composition was his true vocation and on the advice of his teacher, moved to Madrid at age 20. His compositions met with some success there but, seeking to further his studies, he moved to Paris in 1905 and became a student of Vincent d’Indy. It was there, following a performance of his Piano Quintet in 1907, that he met the great Spanish composer Isaac Albéniz. Albéniz published Turina’s Quintet at his own expense but, as Turina recalled afterwards, he gave this advice to the young composer:
This Franckian Quintet (in the style of French composer Caesar Franck) will be published. But you must give me your word that you will not write music like this again. You must base your art on Spanish popular song, or Andalusian, because you are from Seville.
Turina took Albéniz’ advice, making the Piano Quintet his Opus 1, and disregarding all of his previous output.
The Piano Quartet, dating from 1933, is a fine example of Turina’s later style, passionate, yet restrained, and filled with just the right amount of Andalusian color. A compact three movements long, it is also concise, and material from the opening Lento returns in both the later movements. He makes effective use of violin bravura (to open the finale), as well as the dark colors of the viola and cello. Most allusive, perhaps, is his combination of Spanish rhythms and sultry sul ponticello strings (playing on the bridge) in the finale.
Dvořak (1841-1904)
Quartet for Piano and Strings in E-flat Major, Op.87 (1889)
Dvorak’s Piano Quartet in E-flat Major, the second of his two piano quartets, was composed at the request of his publisher Simrock. Unjustly overshadowed by his famous Piano Quintet, Op. 81, it brims with melody, color and optimism.
The opening Allegro con fuoco pits the strings against the piano, with a heroic statement by the former, answered flippantly, then even dismissively by the piano, before they join in a fortissimo consensus in bar 26. Issues resolved, the viola (Dvorak’s own instrument) sounds the soft, lyrical second theme, and the movement proceeds to a good-humored conclusion.
The Lento is a beauty, swathed in melody of all kinds, from gentle to impassioned. There are five themes in all, and all of them are repeated. The Allegro moderato is a Ländler (Austrian folk dance and precursor of the waltz) whose light, airy subject yields to a Middle Eastern-sounding theme in the piano. Dvorak creates a tinkling hammered dulcimer effect on the piano in one of its repetitions of the Ländler theme. The trio (contrasting mid-section of a tripartite form) sets up an infectious dotted rhythm pattern at a slightly faster tempo before easing back into the Ländler proper.
The Finale is a powerful movement, almost orchestral in concept. The brilliant opening theme is announced tutti (by all the instruments) before it is taken over by the viola and then the piano. The instruments toss around a saucy rhythmic figure which leads into the second subject, also introduced by the viola. There is an almost gypsy feel about much of the writing, tempting a comparison to the finale of Brahms’ Piano Quartet in G Minor.
By Mary Ellyn Hutton
December 4 & 5, 2011
Stravinsky (1882-1971)
Pastorale for Violin and Winds (1933)
The original version of Stravinsky’s Pastorale -- for soprano and piano -- was written when he was 25 and a student of Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov. A vocalise (song without words), it was dedicated to Rimsky-Korsakov’s daughter Nadja, who sang the first performance at a party at the family home on Christmas Day, 1907.
It is one Stravinsky’s earliest works and the one with which he claimed to have found his own voice. He was obviously very fond of it, since he transcribed it for soprano, oboe, English horn, clarinet and bassoon in 1923, for violin and piano in 1933 and again for violin, oboe, English horn, clarinet and bassoon in 1933. The last two versions were reworked and lengthened.
It is calm, lilting, “impudently naïve” music (Stravinsky historian Richard Taruskin). Linear in construction, it begins with oboe solo, adding a lovely countermelody in the violin over staccato accompaniment and a drone-like bass (compare the musette). Providing a distinctive touch are the 64th-note turns that decorate the opening melody throughout. It comes to a soft end, with the instruments outlining the final chord. Note: In his “Stravinsky and the Russian Traditions,” Taruskin explains that the voice in the original “Pastorale” is not really wordless, but uses syllables (“a-oo”) that come from a tradition of “nature ecstasy” utilized by Russian composers, including Rimsky-Korsakov, and the Russian symbolist poets.
Beethoven (1770-1827)
Octet for Winds in E-flat Major, Op.103 (1792)
Music for wind ensemble was extremely popular in 18th-century, Central European courts, especially at meal times. Beethoven composed his Octet for two oboes, two clarinets, two horns and two bassoons while still living in his home town of Bonn. It is surmised that he wrote it for Archduke Maximilian Franz, Elector of Cologne, who kept such an octet at his table.
Beethoven may have been displeased with the work, since he never offered it for publication and re-wrote it as a string quintet in 1795-96 (Op. 4). In fact, he seldom wrote for winds alone after that. The Octet’s high opus number, Op. 103, was assigned posthumously and inaccurately, by editors at Breitkopf and Härtel. It is, in fact, an early work, written when Beethoven was 22.
It is cast in classical, four-movement symphonic form, with rapid outer movements, a slow movement and a Menuetto and Trio. Though indebted to Mozart, there are hints of the symphonist to come (Beethoven wrote his Symphony No. 1 in 1801, when he was 31). The third movement, for example, is more Scherzo than Menuetto, and there are characteristic offbeat accents in the finale, whose Presto indication means just what it says.
Stravinsky (1882—1971)
L’Histoire du Soldat (1918)
Composed in 1918, Stravinsky’s “L’Histoire du Soldat” (“The Soldier’s Tale”) defies classification, being part theater, part opera and part dance. It has been called a miniature Faust. It also stands at a crossroads for the composer, then exiled in Switzerland, having left his Russian homeland to take up life in the West.
The libretto was written in French by Swiss writer Charles-Ferdinand Ramuz and is based on a tale from the collection by Russian folklorist Alexander Afanasiev. Since it was wartime and many players were absent in military service, Stravinsky and Ramuz kept the production small. The score calls for violin, double bass, clarinet, bassoon, cornet (or trumpet), trombone and percussion, plus three actors, a narrator and a dancer. The set comprised a stage on saw horses with a barrel at each side. The premiere, Sept. 28, 1918 in Lausanne, led by Ernest Ansermet, was a big success. The projected tour, however, was cancelled because of the worldwide Spanish flu pandemic.
Complex rhythmically and often virtuosic, the music looks ahead to Stravinsky’s neo-classic style and has more to do with horizontal (linear) than vertical (harmonic) relations. Jazz was an important influence (his very next composition was “Ragtime for 11 Instruments”), and it incorporates many other stylistic elements, including ballroom dance and the Protestant chorale. It remains one of Stravinsky’s most often performed works.
Part I
Scene One
The Soldier’s March
Airs by a Stream
Joseph, a soldier on leave, is traveling to his native village. He pauses to rest, takes a violin out of his knapsack and begins to play. The Devil, disguised as a butterfly-catcher, interrupts him and asks to buy the violin. Joseph refuses, but changes his mind when the Devil offers him a magic book that will make him rich. He agrees to spend three days with the Devil to learn about the book.
Scene Two
Pastorale
Air by a Stream (reprise)
Joseph approaches his village only to discover that he has been gone three years, not three days (people run from him, thinking he is a ghost, and his fiancée is married with children).
Scene Three
Airs by a Stream (reprise)
Joseph realizes that great wealth has brought him nothing, and he wishes to be the way he was. The Devil, disguised as a female peddler, offers her wares, including a violin. She hands Joseph the violin, but he can no longer play it. He throws it away and tears up the Devil’s book.
Part II
Scene Four
The Soldier’s March (reprise)
The Royal March
Joseph, who is no longer wealthy, stops at an inn on the way to his village. He learns that the king’s daughter is ill and the king has offered her hand to whoever can cure her. He goes to the palace where he meets the Devil, disguised as a virtuoso violinist. He plays cards with the Devil, intending to lose all of his money and be free of him. He does and recovers his violin.
Scene Five
The Little Concert
Three Dances
Tango
Valse
Ragtime
The Devil’s Dance
Little Chorale
The Devil’s Song
Great Chorale
Joseph takes the violin to the Princess’ room and plays. She is cured and begins to dance. The Devil arrives and Joseph realizes he can defeat him by continuing to play. The Devil dances himself to exhaustion. Joseph and the Princess drag him away and fall into each other’s arms. The Devil warns Joseph that he may not leave the country or he will be in his power, and the Narrator pronounces the moral of the story (“no one can have it all . . . you must choose”).
Scene Six
Triumphal March of the Devil
Joseph and the Princess, who are now married, decide to go to his village, so he can see his mother again. As he crosses the border, the Devil claims his soul.
By Mary Ellyn Hutton
January 15 & 16, 2012
Rossini (1792-1868)
Duetto for Cello and Double Bass (1824)
Gioacchino Rossini was one of the great masters of Italian opera. He wrote 39 operas, including The Barber of Seville (praised by Beethoven himself). He left a handful of chamber music, too, including a Duetto per violoncello e contrabasso, written on a visit to London in 1824. Seemingly ponderous -- it has been likened to a duo for hippopotamus and elephant -- it is completely disarming. It is also very operatic. One is reminded of Walt Disney’s “Fantasia,” where hippos and elephants dance to Ponchielli’s “Dance of the Hours” from La Giocanda.
Rossini wrote the Duetto in 1824 for amateur cellist Sir David Salomons, to be performed at a soirée at Salomons’ home. Salomons played cello. Virtuoso bassist Domenico Dragonetti (1763-1846), the so-called “Paganini of the double bass,” played bass. The Duetto was then lost until 1969, when English double bassist Rodney Slatford ran across it while searching for music by Dragonetti. A friend told him that a Dragonetti work had been sold at Sotheby’s, but that only the parts were in Dragonetti’s hand. The score was by Rossini.
Realizing that it was the lost Duetto, Slatford arranged a visit to the purchaser and obtained permission to make a performing edition. The manuscript had been in the possession of the Salomons family for 145 years. Subsequently, the BBC aired and recorded a performance of the Duetto by Slatford and cellist Christopher van Kampen (both members of Britain’s eminent Nash Ensemble). Interest in the work was immediate, and requests for it poured in from all over the world.
The Duetto brims with wit. In three movements, it opens with a saucy “overture” (Allegro). The lovely slow movement (Andante molto) could be an aria from one of Rossini’s operas (and both cello and double bass get to sing it). The exhilarating finale comes complete with a “Rossini crescendo” (steady buildup of sound over a repeated figure). The instruments are treated equally throughout, sharing solo and accompanimental roles and engaging in constant dialogue. The Duetto has been arranged for alto and baritone saxophone, as well.
Ellen Taaffe Zwilich (b. 1939)
Quintet for Violin, Viola, Cello, Double Bass and Piano (2011)
Ellen Zwilich’s Quintet was commissioned for the Kalichstein-Laredo-Robinson Trio, violist Michael Tree and double bassist Harold Robinson by a consortium of presenters, including the Linton Chamber Music Series, with support from Ann and Harry Santen. The world premiere, presented by the La Jolla Chamber Music Society, took place at SummerFest in San Diego August 7, 2011, and was an immediate success (“an all-out jazz-inflected romp,” wrote critic James Chute in the San Diego Union Tribune).
Zwilich, the first woman to win the Pulitzer Prize in Music (for her Symphony No. 1 in 1983), took inspiration for the Quintet from Schubert’s “Trout” Quintet, written for the same combination of instruments in 1819. Listen carefully and you will hear Schubert’s famous theme near the beginning of the second movement, “Die launische Forelle” (“The moody trout”).
“I couldn’t resist using a very small quote from the Schubert song on which his Quintet is based,” said Zwilich, in an interview with the online news site, BroadwayWorld.com. “I also took the liberty of allowing that movement to spin out musical images of a ‘moody’ trout. In all three movements, the weight and character of the contrabass is an important element in the overall design. I’m especially interested in the possibilities offered by the contemporary contrabass player’s virtuosity and artistry, which allow the composer to reach for that chamber music ideal of equal partners.”
The Quintet opens with a dramatic, ascending theme announced by the cello and taken up by viola and violin. This alternates with a cantabile (songlike) theme derived from it, first heard in the violin. Both are treated contrapuntally. “Moody” translates into blues in Zwilich’s second movement, where a walking bass introduces an out-and-out lamentation by viola and violin. Everyone gets into the act, including most affectingly, the double bass.
The final movement is perhaps the jazziest of all, with its offbeat, jagged rhythms. There is constant interplay among the instruments and a return midway of the ascending theme from the first movement. The Quintet is the fourth work that Zwilich has written for the Kalichstein-Laredo- Robinson Trio.
Brahms (1833-1897)
Quartet for Piano and Strings in G Minor, Op. 25 (1861)
The Piano Quartet in G Minor is the most popular of Brahms’ three piano quartets. You don’t even have to be a chamber music aficionado to know and love it, since Arnold Schoenberg transcribed it for orchestra in 1937, and it is frequently heard on orchestral programs.
It was written while Brahms was in Detmold, working as a choral conductor and chamber musician, and premiered informally in Hamburg in 1861, with Clara Schumann on piano. The Viennese (official) premiere was in 1862, with Brahms on the piano and members of the Hellmesberger String Quartet. The event helped establish Brahms as an important composer, and was the occasion that led violinist Joseph Hellmesberger to famously announce, “This is Beethoven’s heir.”
It is in four movements, the first (Allegro) in sonata form, with a wealth of thematic material. The second, replacing what would have been a scherzo, is an Intermezzo (Allegro ma non troppo). Brahms told Clara that she had been his inspiration in composing the Intermezzo, and that he had thought of her in every bar. It is gentle, swaying music, with muted violin.
The slow movement (Andante con moto) is richly romantic, with a thrilling, march-like mid-section. The concluding Rondo “alla Zingarese” (“in Gypsy style)” is a favorite of listeners and players alike. Just when you think it cannot get more exciting, or that the music has spent itself, it breaks into one last Presto repetition of the Rondo (gypsy) theme.
By Mary Ellyn Hutton
