Download Program Notes - Colburn School

Program Notes
sergei prokofiev (1891–1953)
Quintet for Oboe, Clarinet, Violin, Viola, and Double Bass
in G Minor, Op. 39 (1924)
While living in Paris in the mid 1920s, Prokofiev was eager to
compose a Second Symphony far different from his first, the
witty “Classical” Symphony of his school days. He was widely
regarded as an enfant terrible, writing in an advanced and
difficult musical style, but some of his works had already been
performed in Paris under the sponsorship of conductor Serge
Koussevitzky, so he had hopes of attracting attention. In order
to support himself while working on the new symphony, he
accepted a commission from Romanov’s Wandering Ballets,
a company that planned to tour a series of short ballets with an “orchestra” of but five
instruments. Prokofiev proposed that the ensemble consist of oboe, clarinet, violin,
viola, and double bass, and for that unusual quintet he composed a circus ballet entitled
The Trapeze. All the while he intended the music should also be performable as a
self-sufficient concert work.
The Trapeze was performed in Italy and Germany with fair success, although Prokofiev
recalled that the dancers had difficulty with his unusual rhythms, such as a 5/4 measure,
consisting of ten eighth notes, divided into 3 + 4 + 3 eighths. But if that was indeed the case,
these dancers must have been out of touch with current trends in ballet scores; Stravinsky’s
The Rite of Spring made far greater demands on dancers for over a decade, though it was
rarely performed as a ballet. That the complicated metrical patterns of the third movement
caused trouble not only for the dancers, but also for the players, is indicated by the fact that
the score prints the third movement twice—once in Prokofiev’s original notation, once in a
“simplified” form, of which the only change is to break up the long 5/4 bars into more readily
apprehended 3/8, 2/4, and 3/4 bars.
The composition of the work gave Prokofiev no trouble, unlike the Second Symphony, over
which he slaved for months. But as a concert work, separated from the visual elements
of the ballet, it was regarded as one of the composer’s most advanced and daring, often
turning polytonal and remaining intensely chromatic virtually throughout. Years later, after
he returned to Russia where he had perforce to accommodate his musical style to Soviet
demands for simplicity and lyricism, Prokofiev confessed in his memoirs that the quintet,
along with the Second Symphony, his most chromatic works, had been tainted by his contact
with the West: “This was the effect of the Parisian atmosphere where complex patterns
and dissonances were the accepted thing, and which fostered my predilection for complex
thinking.” We may wonder whether this scapegoating of Paris is to be taken at face value. To
be sure, Prokofiev was never again so far advanced in harmonic complexity, but the more lyric
side he showed in his later years had been a part of his personality from early in his career as
well. In any case, it is always fascinating to hear a piece in which the composer steps outside
his normal habits and attempts something quite new. In Prokofiev’s case, that step took him
to the edge of an abyss, from which he quickly recoiled.
wolfgang amadeus mozart (1756–1791)
Selections from Don Giovanni, K. 527 for Wind Octet
and Double Bass (1787)
Arranged by Josef Triebensee
We no longer have much opportunity to hear ensembles of
oboes, horns, and bassoons in pairs, nor some of the larger
and more varied wind ensemble possibilities, but they were
among the most frequently encountered musical groupings
in the late 18th century, employed especially in the households
of wealthy patrons to provide background music for parties
or banquets. Mozart himself gave a good illustration of the
practice in the final scene of Don Giovanni, where the
Don has his own private ensemble playing selections from popular operas.
The instruments in the Harmonie conventionally sustained the chords in symphonies and
other orchestral works. These ensembles could be employed indoors or outside, where
dampness or sudden changes of temperature could wreak havoc with string instruments,
and would produce a sound that carried well over the noise of conversation and the clatter of
eating utensils.
One of the masters of composing for the harmonie ensemble was Josef Triebensee (1772–
1846), a Bohemian oboist and composer who from early youth was oboist in the Emperor’s
wind ensemble in Vienna. In 1791, he played second oboe in the world premiere of Mozart’s
The Magic Flute, an opera with a demanding second oboe part.
He composed original Harmoniemusik and also made arrangements of the work of other
composers, especially including his friend Mozart. Less well known are 12 comic operas
he wrote for Vienna and Prague. The date of his arrangement of eight selections from
Don Giovanni is not known, but it is quite likely not long after the successful premiere of the
opera in Prague because there would have been a demand for opportunities to hear and play
the music. His arrangement is for eight or nine instruments—pairs of oboes, clarinets, horns,
and bassoons, with an optional contrabassoon. The arrangement includes the overture and
seven vocal selections in a wide range of moods, to produce a thoroughly satisfying suite of
music from what was then the very latest thing.
ludwig van beethoven (1770–1827)
Octet for Two Horns, Two Oboes, Two Clarinets, and
Two Bassoons in E-flat Major, Op. 103 (ca. 1792)
In the Classical era, one of the most popular forms of
musical entertainment, especially in social situations
like dinners and parties, was the wind ensemble, often
consisting of six instruments (pairs of oboes, clarinets, and
bassoons) or of eight (the same ensemble with the addition
of two horns). The crisp sound made by this ensemble could
penetrate the noise of conversation better than that of a
string ensemble. And on occasions when the performance
might be outdoors, a touch of humidity did not risk harming the wind instruments as badly
as it did the strings.
The kind of music that such an ensemble would play tended to be less complex in
organization than the elaborate first-movement sonata forms of symphonies and string
quartets; they could provide a background of cheerful sound to mute the sound of dishes
and conversation, but not require close attention to enjoy. Beethoven’s Octet, which was
not published until long after he wrote it (hence the high opus number), was one of the
pieces he brought with him from Bonn when he moved to Vienna in 1792. It reveals the
attention that Beethoven has paid to Mozart’s works in this genre—and indeed, no better
model could possibly be required.
The first movement does follow the expected sonata form, but is so cheerful with its
staccato articulations, repeated eighth-note chatter, and forward pressing character that
someone at a party could enjoy it while still only catching bits and pieces.
The Andante, gently lilting in 6/8 time, wears a delicate robe of melancholy. The Menuetto
has a straightforward vigor pushed along by the downward octave drop in the first measure
of many of its phrases. The Finale is jaunty in a light-hearted Haydnesque way.
A few years later, in Vienna, after further study, Beethoven rewrote this wind octet as a
quintet for strings, Op. 4. A comparison of the later version reveals something about
the growth of his technique, but the Octet remains a delightful example of the very early
Beethoven taking stock of the classical tradition and making ready to place himself in direct
competition with his great forebears, Haydn and Mozart.
© Steven Ledbetter (stevenledbetter.com)