Download Dianna Cruz-Senior Recital Program

Acknowledgments
Special Thanks to:
Music Department
California Polytechnic State University
Mom
Dr. Spiller
Dr. McLamore
Dr. Tom
Susan Azaret Davies
Eric Aranda
Dianna Cruz
• piano •
• conductor •
Druci Reese
Michele Abba
A Senior Recital in Partial Fulfillment of the
Requirements for a Bachelor of Arts in Music
Performers
Department Faculty
Family and Friends
January 13, 2013
Sunday at 3 p.m
Davidson Music Center
Room 218
Sponsored by the Cal Poly Music Department and College of Liberal Arts
Program
Senior Recital
Dianna Cruz, piano and conductor
Préludes, Op. 103 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Gabriel Fauré
No. 3 in G Minor
(1845-1924)
Estampes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Claude Debussy
Pagodes
(1862-1918)
Trois morceaux pour piano . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Lili Boulanger
D’un vieux jardin
(1893-1918)
D’un jardin clair
Cortége
Jack in the Box Suite . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Erik Satie
Prélude
(1866-1925)
Entr’acte
Final
— Intermission —
Carnival of the Animals. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Camille Saint-Saëns
Introduction and the Lion’s Royal March
(1835-1921)
Hens and Roosters
Tortoises
Aquarium
The Cuckoo in the Deep Woods
Aviary
Fossils
Finale
Performers:
Doug Gallatin, flute and piccolo
Andrew Nishida, clarinet
Kevin Capacia, glockenspiel and xylophone
Steve Carlton, piano
Alessandra Shanus, piano
Will Schill, violin
Mario Ojeda, violin
Anthony Dell’Osso, viola
Jake Wise, cello
Pat Bang, contrabass
A solemn walk (represented by a chord progression in the pianos) is disrupted by
the beautiful call of a solitary bird in “The Cuckoo in the Deep Woods.” This pattern
continues several times, and the pauses portray the eager listener stopping to listen to
the bird. At the end, the cuckoo becomes more and more faint, as the journey travels
deeper into the forest.
The atmosphere is quite different in the lively “Aviary,” full of soaring creatures.
The flute opens by flying up high, then dives down only to swoop quickly back up into
the air. After the pianos’ “fluttering,” the flute and pianos take the piece even higher
than the opening. The flute returns to its solo flight, and trills from the pianos add to
the energy. The flute ends with a glissando that sweeps up high, and fades away as it
flies out of sight.
“Fossils” takes us into a museum filled with humorous displays of old relics,
consisting of “music from the past.” This museum has six sections to visit: Saint-Saëns
displays his own Danse Macabre as the opening fossil, and retains it as an underlying
theme for the xylophone and pianos. A short second section quotes a French song:
“J’ai du bon tabac,” and parodies it by playing the melody upside down on the piano.
Two other French folk songs are put on display in the third section: “Ah! Vous diraije maman” (the “Twinkle Twinkle” tune), and “Au Clair de la lune.” The xylophone
interrupts with Danse Macabre; then the clarinet quotes another French song, “Partant
pour la Syrie,” as well as an aria from the Italian composer Gioachino Rossini’s famous
opera The Barber of Seville of 1816. Although Rossini’s music had Italian roots, the
opera’s story was based on the writings of a Frenchman. Thus, Saint-Saëns presents a
series of French fossils, followed by a final appearance of his Danse Macabre.
A magnificent “Finale” is achieved when all instrumentalists join in to bring the
Carnival to a close. The Finale’s new material and quotations from earlier sections align
themselves as in “Fossils.” The opening of the finale resembles the introduction to the
“Lion’s March.” The woodwinds and glockenspiel trill to recall the flutter from “Aviary.”
Another section quotes the pecking motif from “Hens and Roosters” and a jumping
motif from “Kangaroos,” a movement not performed today. The braying of donkeys
from another omitted piece carries the brief penultimate section. Then, for the “grand
finale,” all the animals cry out in unison at the end—a fitting conclusion to Saint-Saëns’
charming Carnival. As the composer put it, “Long live the animals!”
Carnival of the Animals - Saint-Saëns
Camille Saint-Saëns was described as a “musician armed with every weapon” by
Charles Gounod. He was a composer, organist, and pianist, who was hailed as the new
Mozart after a public concert at ten years old. The German composer Wagner was
amazed at Saint-Saëns’ ease in interpreting Wagner’s most complicated scores on the
piano. Saint-Saëns later taught at the Niedermeyer Institute, where he became friends
with Fauré. His skills earned him first place in many composition competitions; once,
he bested over one hundred musicians for the best setting of a cantata, by a unanimous
vote. Fellow French composer Hector Berlioz called him “one of the greatest musicians
of our epoch.”
It is a shame that, despite his successful standing (or perhaps owing to it), SaintSaëns considered The Carnival of the Animals a danger to his reputation as a serious
composer. This beloved work was written for his own amusement in 1886, but with
the exception of his famous “Le Cygne” (The Swan), he refused to publish it before his
death. Despite his wishes to ban performances as well, accounts of performances in his
day do exist.
Termed a “zoological fantasy,” The Carnival of the Animals is quite a clever
representation of the animals he chose to portray. It is made up of fourteen smaller
sections of animal attractions, eight of which will be performed tonight. Fittingly,
Saint-Saëns starts with the “Introduction and the Lion’s Royal March.” The
Introduction is marked by the tremolos in the pianos and an upward-dragging threenote motif in the strings. A brief fanfare leads to the stately march, where the Lion’s
mighty roar rumbles in the low runs on the piano.
“Hens and Roosters” paints a clear representation of the birds. A pecking motif
opens the scene and dominates the short A section. The B section begins climbing
upwards to reach a small climax with the rooster’s cry, then returns to the pecking of
the hens.
To say “Tortoises” is played at a leisurely speed would be exaggerating! It opens
with a familiar tune, the wild “Galop Infernal” (Can-Can) from French composer
Offenbach’s operetta Orpheus in the Underworld, which had premiered in 1858. The
typical speed of tortoises, though, takes the melody at a much slower tempo. The
second half loses even more momentum as longer notes dominate and slow the piece
until the tortoises come to a rest.
As the most mesmerizing exhibition of the Carnival, “Aquarium” takes us into a
world of wonder. It opens with high shimmering runs downward in one piano while
the other slurs its way up more slowly. Both pianos flow together to create a fluid
background. The melody can be heard in the strings and the flute, and is reflected by
the glockenspiel. The B section is noticeably different as the pianos take the melody to
the fore with a musical sequence that moves down, sinking, while the strings remain
still. The glistening runs of the A section lead into the ending, where the instruments
pause to listen to the glimmering runs, played even more delicately by the glockenspiel.
The sinking motif returns and continues with fewer instruments until the pianos
audibly reveal the waters coming to a still.
Program Notes
Prelude No. 3 in G minor - Fauré
Saint-Saëns once told Gabriel Fauré, “You possess every quality, but you lack one fault
which is indispensable to an artist: ambition.” Despite this flaw, Fauré’s work, especially
during the years of 1894-1900, was considered “among the most powerful in French
music” by Jean-Michel Nectoux, a French musicologist. This leading composer of the
early twentieth century was also a pianist, organist, and teacher. At nine years of age,
his talent impressed Nicole Niedermeyer so much that Fauré was offered training at
Niedermeyer’s music institute tuition-free. In 1861, Saint-Saëns joined the faculty and
eventually took over Fauré’s piano class after the death of Niedermeyer. Saint-Saëns
would later introduce Fauré to the famous Hungarian pianist and composer, Franz
Liszt. Fauré returned to the École Niedermeyer as a faculty member, and later was
appointed director of the Paris Conservatoire. He stepped down a few years before his
death in 1924.
The Preludes are highly regarded, an even greater testament considering that these
were composed after Fauré began to lose his hearing. The first three were written in
1909 and the set was completed in 1910. Emile Vuillermoz, a former student and
biographer of Fauré, noted that the third Prelude was an “homage to the melodic
Romanticism of Chopin.” Alfred Cortot, a French pianist and conductor, held that the
Preludes exhibited much emotional power and a great deal of strength in their feelings.
The contemplative mood of the third Prelude is demonstrated by its structure. Fauré
goes back and forth between two sections, and pensively creates a five-part rondo form
(ABABA). He opens the A refrain by mulling over a repeated note that finally ascends as
a conclusion to that thought. The idea expands a little before it returns to the repeatednote motif (a short recurring melody); then it glides into the next section. This B section
just seems to sink, with a faint descending melody that comes back higher and stronger
with each repetition. Fauré builds intensity as he moves through the sections until the last
forceful repetition of the A refrain that fades away in a somber finish.
Estampes: Pagodes - Debussy
Claude Debussy went to Cannes for safety and earned a gift that would start his life
journey in the world of music. During the Franco-Prussian War, his family took refuge
in Cannes, where his aunt arranged for him to take piano lessons. His musical talent
progressed to the point that a composition won him the Prix de Rome in 1884. The
coveted scholarship award granted a year’s study in Rome where he also became
acquainted with Liszt. Debussy’s music is now known to many people, particularly
“Clair de Lune” from his Suite Bergamasque (1890).
Although Debussy objected to the term “impressionist,” he had an extraordinary
ability to paint with sound, using the many shades of colors in his music as an
impressionist painter would. Evidence of this “impressionistic” technique can be found
in his Estampes, a collection of three works he completed in 1903. The name suggests
etchings, with each individual piece portraying a different scene. For instance, the
second, “La soirée dans Grenade,” is a Spanish dance. There are many opinions about
what Debussy painted with the third piece, titled “Jardins sous la pluie,” one of which
claims it depicts an afternoon storm in a garden at Auteuil.
The first etching, “Pagodes,” French for pagodas, implies tiered towers found in
east-Asian lands. Its origin dates back four years earlier at the Paris World Exhibition,
when a certain Javanese instrumental ensemble caught Debussy’s attention. It was
a gamelan—an instrumental ensemble that typically consists of various percussion
instruments. Debussy considered the music they performed extremely complicated
compared to European counterpoint, and it captivated him. He spent countless hours
listening to the intricacies of the gamelan.
In “Pagodes,“ Debussy emulates the gamelan and uses other means to create an
“Oriental” atmosphere. He paints the setting with gong-like chords. The motifs he
uses are built on pentatonic scales, which are five-note scales that enforce the Asiatic
mannerism of the piece. The music becomes more and more complex until the
music suddenly shifts gears, as a gamelan might do, and a new melody plays on top
of a recurring oscillating pattern. The remainder of the piece continues with familiar
material that Debussy showcases in various ways, such as using opposing rhythms with
familiar melodies played at the same time. He takes off with his final brush strokes to
add even more luster to the canvas. High, rapid runs add shimmers to the restatement
of the opening motif. The ending becomes softer and softer, giving the sense that the
etching fades away.
Trois morceaux - Boulanger
Lili Boulanger made headlines by becoming the first woman to win the Prix de
Rome—and she did it as a teenager. This was not a surprise, since musical talent was
a family trait, and her own talent was discovered when she was just two years old.
Unfortunately, that same year, she also had a severe case of bronchial pneumonia that
left her in poor health for the rest of her life. On account of her health, her years were
cut short in 1918, when she was just in her mid-twenties. Even in her short time,
however, she accomplished much in her field. This gifted composer had ties with other
exceptional composers such as Gabriel Fauré, with whom she had studied.
Very little is known about Boulanger’s beautiful and delicate Trois morceaux.
Originally believed to have been unfinished, it now has a completion date of June 12,
1914. The title Trois morceaux (Three Pieces) doesn’t reveal much, but the designations
for each piece are more suggestive: “D’un vieux jardin” means “Of an Old Garden,” and
“D’un jardin clair” is translated as “Of a Bright Garden,” while “Cortège” is French for
“Procession.”
“D’un vieux jardin” is very expressive and drifts through a reflection of an old
garden. It is bipartite, or comprised of two parts. The A section sounds as if it wanders
over the keys with a gliding melody. It eases into the B section by starting to linger on
notes; the melody seems to sigh, laboriously moving down.
Boulanger livens the next piece somewhat to depict the “bright garden.” This, too,
is bipartite, but with a more subtle contrast. “D’un jardin clair” starts out with a playful
and sweet melody; there is a lot of give-and-take with the tempo. The piece fades away,
as if the bright light has slowly dimmed.
The contemplative and serene moods in the gardens contrast with the energetic
finale. As would suit a procession, the meter is grouped into four beats per bar, unlike
the first two pieces, which were both in triple meter. The “Cortège” is structured in
four phases, each with a flowing melody and a swift accompaniment. The melody
whirls out into sheer bliss and ends with joyful chords.
Jack in the Box - Satie
Ironically, although Erik Satie is recognized for his contributions to the development
of twentieth-century music, and was respected by the likes of Debussy and Ravel, he
started his career by getting kicked out of the Paris Conservatoire. Satie’s name may
not ring a bell but surely the opening chords of his Gymnopédies (1888) will. The
eccentric French composer entered the Conservatoire in 1879, but was dismissed in
1882. Satie continued with his studies by auditing a harmony class, and entered in
an intermediate piano class. In fact, he later returned to school, entering the Schola
Cantorum in 1905, where he started over with his second music career—at the age of
39!
Satie’s humor is clearly evident in Jack in the Box, dated 1899. Satie’s friend and
admired cartoonist Jules Depaquit gave Satie the idea for the piece. It’s believed to
have been intended for a ballet or a pantomime. Satie referred to it as a “clownerie” and
called it his “suite anglaise.” Regrettably he lost it, believing he had left it on a bus. It
wasn’t until after his death in 1925 that it was found in a crumpled notebook behind his
piano.
The “Prelude” opens the suite with a witty and lively character. This is in rondo
form, ABACBA, and Satie’s omission of an A refrain between sections C and B,
although not uncommon in rondo form, adds to the amusement. A quick introduction
winds down to bring in the playful A section. The next section toys with a new idea
while Satie changes the supporting accompaniment. Section C uses similar musical
ideas of the first two sections and adds even more movement and energy, with runs that
seem to wind up the music again. The ending is the most enjoyable part, as the music
dies down to a soft and slow repetition of the A section, only to be startled by chords
that jump out!
The “Entr’acte” breaks from the ongoing story with a short light-hearted
interlude. This piece follows an ABA pattern that concludes with a short reference to
the “Prelude.” The first melody seems to trip into the notes that follow. Once footing
is gained, the notes scurry about, only to return to the stumbling nature of the piece.
Similar to the “Prelude,” the real ending leaps out abruptly to startle the listener.
The “Finale’s” opening chords give a conclusive feeling to the suite. Each section
contains variations of ideas from the previous two pieces. However, unlike the earlier
works in the suite, the ending here does not taper off; instead, Satie portrays the Jackin-the-Box head bobbling in random directions after its release to finish the game of fun
and surprise.