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Friday, May 1, 2015 at 8pm
NEC’s Jordan Hall
Alisa Weilerstein, cello
Inon Barnatan, piano
Notes on the Program
Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827)
Cello Sonata No. 5 in D Major, Opus 102, no. 2 (1815)
The two cello sonatas that Beethoven composed in 1815 came from a particularly difficult period in his
life. His encroaching deafness had been interfering with his musical activities for more than a decade, but
he reached a new low point in 1814, when he made his last public appearance as a pianist. The pain of
romantic failures and a complicated family matter involving the guardianship of his nephew further
contributed to his dark mood, and his productivity slowed to a trickle.
The cello sonatas marked a turning point in Beethoven’s output. On one hand they looked backward,
revisiting the successful formula of his ten violin sonatas—works that built upon earlier models from the
era of Haydn and Mozart. At the same time, the cello sonatas were harbingers of Beethoven’s “late
period,” in which his introspective compositions found new depths of emotion and spiritual resonance,
especially in the piano sonatas and string quartets.
The Allegro con brio movement that opens the Cello Sonata No. 5 in D Major (Opus 102, no. 2) is a
prime example of the well-established sonata style from earlier decades. It even begins with piano alone,
a throwback to the era in which such a work would have been more a piano sonata with cello
accompaniment than an equal partnership. There is a stout primary theme in the home key, a fluid
secondary theme in the contrasting dominant key, and all the components of a proper sonata-allegro
structure.
The central movement has the poetic tempo marking of Adagio con molto sentimento d’affetto (Slow,
with great feeling of affection). This is a window into late-period Beethoven, played out as an expressive
struggle between outer sections in D minor and a more hopeful middle section in D major. Instead of
settling definitively on a minor resolution, the closing passage slips off to a foreign key and winds its way
back to D major for the Allegro finale, starting with the cello’s hesitant climb up the scale of the home
key, a gesture echoed by the piano. The finale launches into a fugue, a technique with roots in even earlier
music, but one that would take on new importance late in Beethoven’s life, as in the Grosse Fuge for
string quartet.
Franz Schubert (1797-1828)
Fantasie in C Major, D. 934 (1827) (trans. Weilerstein/Barnatan)
As of his twentieth birthday, Franz Schubert’s music had not been published, mentioned in a newspaper,
or performed publicly in Vienna a single time, even though he had already composed some 300 songs
(half of his lifetime output) and a large body of orchestral and chamber music. Just as his adult life began
in earnest, his purported sexual excesses caught up with him: he contracted syphilis in late 1822 or early
1823, and he died of the infection in 1828, at the age of 31.
Schubert composed the Fantasie in C Major (D. 934) in December of 1827, when he had less than a year
to live, and just as his career was heating up. He and his friends had resumed a tradition of holding private
concerts, including the event on January 20, 1828, where violinist Josef Slavik and pianist Carl Maria von
Bocklet gave the first performance of the Fantasie. Schubert also endeavored, for the first time ever, to
present a public concert of his own music, timed to coincide with the first anniversary of Beethoven’s
death on March 26. From this high point, his health began to fail over the summer, and he succumbed in
November.
Schubert structured his duet for violin and piano as a Fantasie, to use the German spelling. (Also known
as a Fantasia or Fantasy, the genre implies a freeform work built in a number of linked sections.) This
performance follows an arrangement for cello and piano created by Alisa Weilerstain and Inon Barnatan.
The Fantasie begins in C major with a long, patient melody set over a trembling piano accompaniment, in
a tempo marked Andante molto. A quick cadenza leads to the related minor key and a brisk, flamboyant
Allegretto. The core of the work is the Andantino section in A-flat, featuring variations on the much-loved
melody of Sei mir gegrüsst, Schubert’s 1822 song on a poem by Friedrich Rückert. After a brief recall of
the opening music, the final section takes off in an upbeat, Allegro vivace tempo. This improvisatory
fantasy ends with one last taste of the sweet song melody and a glitzy coda at an accelerated, Presto
pulse.
Joseph Hallman (b. 1979, currently resides in Philadelphia)
DreamLog (2013-15)
Joseph Hallman has overcome more obstacles than most to earn his place as one of “100 Composers
Under 40” singled out by the classical radio station WQXR. Born into what he has described as a “very
poor, single-parent household” in Philadelphia, he entered an academy for underprivileged children,
found his identity as a “music geek,” and forged relationships among the city’s music professionals. He
went on to study composition at the Cleveland Institute of Music, where he met cellist Alisa Weilerstein,
who remains a great champion and ambassador for Hallman’s music. He now lives in Philadelphia again,
where he teaches at Drexel University. The 2013 release of the album Sprung Rhythm by the Inscape
Chamber Orchestra, featuring two of Hallman’s works, earned a Grammy nomination, bringing this
young composer further into the national spotlight.
Hallman composed DreamLog for Ms. Weilerstein and pianist Inon Barnatan, writing the work “in many
bits and pieces” between August 2013 and January 2015. The structure of the score is modular, such that
“the work may be ordered in any way the performer chooses. The performer may also choose to perform
one movement, or any combination of any number of movements, or all of the movements. An analog: a
choose-your-own-adventure book.”
“DreamLog is based on ideas I put down in a small journal,” Hallman explained. “They were often
impressions and not fully fleshed-out concepts or images. Ideally, this work should be performed in toto
and in as dark a space as possible. The audience should feel free to meditate or visualize what they choose
with closed eyes.”
Sergei Rachmaninoff (1873-1943)
Cello Sonata in G minor, Opus 19 (1901)
Following the disastrous premiere of his Symphony No. 1 in 1897, Rachmaninoff barely composed for
three years. He finally sought help from the psychiatrist Nikolai Dahl in 1900, and after months of
hypnotherapy he regained his confidence. He channeled his newfound energy into the Piano Concerto No.
2, a work he completed in 1901, with the score dedicated to his therapist.
Rachmaninoff’s next project was the Cello Sonata in G minor, a work that benefited from his renewed
self-assurance. The piano writing came out unusually rich and virtuosic for a cello sonata, as if
Rachmaninoff still had traces of concerto writing in his head and hands. He performed the premiere
himself, a month after the successful debut of the Second Piano Concerto.
The Cello Sonata begins with a pensive introduction, the rising phrases hanging like questions. The body
of the movement strikes up a flowing Allegro moderato tempo, with the cello delivering the main theme
over an arpeggiated accompaniment punctuated by forceful, staccato chords. The pace slows to an
expressive Moderato tempo for the second theme, a bittersweet motive centered on D major that the piano
introduces alone before the cello rejoins.
Before the slow movement, an Allegro scherzando movement works through a range of ideas in C minor;
some of them come off as “joking” in a manner that befits the scherzando heading, while others are
deadly serious. For the Andante movement, the piano again unveils the melody alone. There is a strong
tension between minor and major from the very first measure, rehashing an argument that flares up
throughout this unflinching sonata. The principal theme of the Allegro mosso finale is a swashbuckling,
G-major affair in a triplet tempo, but that music must compete with a showstopper of a secondary
theme—a passionate, Romantic outpouring that ranks among Rachmaninoff’s most affecting melodies.
© 2015 Aaron Grad