Download Rach 3 Program Notes Web - Virginia Symphony Orchestra

PROGRAM NOTES This weekend’s concerts launch JoAnn Falletta’s twenty‐first season with the VSO. What better way to open the season than with compositions that display her achievement with our orchestra? She has chosen a first half that does precisely that, with music that plays to the ensemble’s strengths. After intermission, she welcomes pianist Philippe Bianconi in a performance of a virtuosic Rachmaninoff concerto. The program opens with the traditional playing of our national anthem. Next, we hear a work by Franz Schmidt, an early 20th‐century Austrian composer who played in Gustav Mahler’s orchestra at the Vienna State Opera. Schmidt is virtually unknown to American audiences, though several conductors have begun to champion his four symphonies as we settle into the 21st century. Ms. Falletta has discovered a treasure from his first opera: the Intermezzo from Notre Dame. Originally produced in 1914, the opera was a verismo adaptation of Victor Hugo’s seminal 1831 novel, Notre Dame de Paris (yes, the one with Quasimodo; the book title is usually translated as The Hunchback of Notre Dame). Schmidt’s opera was very successful in its day. Today it has fallen into such obscurity that it does not even warrant an article in the comprehensive New Grove Dictionary of Opera. Fortunately, three instrumental excerpts from Notre Dame are available for concert performance. The crown jewel among them is the Intermezzo, which takes place near the end of the opera’s Act I. Schmidt composed it as an independent orchestral piece in 1903; it was premiered that December. Over the course of the next year, he wove its themes into the opera. The Intermezzo is a character portrait of the beautiful young Gypsy Esmeralda, the heroine whose tender heart and compassion give Hugo’s novel its emotional center. Gypsy flavor permeates her theme, focused in the violins. “This movement is all about the strings,” declares Ms. Falletta. “Schmidt wrote radiant music, a tour de force for string sound. “The Intermezzo makes a wonderful pairing with the Brahms Third Symphony,” she adds, “because it does so much to display our winds and brass as well as the strings. I wanted the first half to focus on the orchestra. The Brahms is introspective: a work of great beauty, complexity and depth. It has orchestral writing one only finds in Brahms. And it ends quietly, which is one reason that I have placed it on the first half, and reversed the expected order of the program.” The Symphony dates from summer 1883, when Brahms was on holiday in the spa town of Wiesbaden. During the early 1880s, he focused primarily on orchestral music. He was increasingly fascinated with the different timbres available to him within the full ensemble. In this symphony, he outdid himself in his combination of transparent colors and flashes of muscular drama. The Third is the shortest of his symphonies, and in some respects the most tightly constructed. (If you listen carefully, you’ll hear the opening motive return at the very end.) The symphony is also nicely framed: two movements in F major/F minor enclosing two in C major/C minor. Mr. Bianconi joins Ms. Falletta and the VSO after intermission for Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No.3 in D minor, Op. 30, or “Rach Three,” as it is popularly known. This blockbuster work, composed in 1909, is a Mount Everest for pianists. “Some people consider it the most difficult concerto in the repertoire, because of all the pianistic pyrotechnics,” observes Ms. Falletta. “Not every professional pianist will play this work. They know what enormous hands Rachmaninoff had! The music he wrote is magnetic, though. It has a dark beauty that is the perfect reflection of the era – the last decade of the Czars in -1-
Russia ‐‐ and with melodies that only Rachmaninoff could have written.” The pulsating orchestra at the concerto’s opening supports a startling, straightforward theme in octaves: Rachmaninoff in reduction. What wonders he spins from this deceptively simple melody! Blood and thunder, passion and pathos course through the outer movements. The slow movement, another Intermezzo, provides a nice counterpoint to the Schmidt on the first half. One could argue that this program is a variant on the traditional overture‐concerto‐symphony ‘formula’ for orchestral concerts. That misses the point of the invigorating and fresh combination of these works, including their unusual order. Remarkably, only twenty‐six years separates these compositions, and yet they are altogether different from one another. Schmidt, Brahms, and Rachmaninoff provide us with a wide perspective on the vocabulary of late romanticism. Intermezzo from Notre Dame FRANZ SCHMIDT 1874 ‐ 1939 Approximate duration 5 minutes An unknown name Franz who? The composer is one of the great unsung Austrian symphonists of the early 20th century: overshadowed by Mahler and the Second Viennese School, much in the same way as such fine composers as Vanhal, Dittersdorf, Salieri, and Stamitz have been eclipsed by Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven. Schmidt was a remarkable musician. He began his career as a child prodigy, studying piano with his mother and organ with a Franciscan priest in Pressburg [now Bratislava]. The boy’s pianistic gifts were so great that, at age 13, he was sent to Vienna to study with the legendary Theodor Leschetizky, then the most celebrated piano pedagogue in Europe. In an autobiographical sketch, Schmidt later recalled, “Leschetizky’s verdict was: ‘Astonishingly correct, technically excellent, not enough charme.’” But he accepted young Franz as a pupil, and the boy flourished. Within two years he had enrolled at the Conservatory, adding cello and music theory to his curriculum. He advanced rapidly on cello, earning positions in 1896 in both the Vienna Court Opera – where Gustav Mahler would become music director the following year – and the Vienna Philharmonic. Schmidt played in both ensembles for 15 years, continuing at the opera until 1914. By 1901 he had also joined the faculty of the Vienna Conservatory; in the 1920s he served as its director. Schmidt was a major figure in Viennese musical life, performing chamber music – as both cellist and pianist – with the most distinguished musical ensembles of the day and numbering many prominent composers among his friends. Arnold Schoenberg and Alban Berg thought highly of his music. A jewel from a neglected opera -2-
So why have we never heard of this guy? For starters, at least here in Hampton Roads, he hasn’t been performed. This weekend is the first time the VSO has ever performed a work by Franz Schmidt. Ms. Falletta has chosen the Intermezzo from his opera Notre Dame, after Victor Hugo’s novel Notre Dame de Paris. The story, set in 15th‐century Paris, made romantic characters of the grotesque bell‐ringer Quasimodo, the beautiful, innocent, warmhearted Gypsy maiden Esmeralda, her beloved Phoebus, and the lustful priest Frollo. Schmidt’s adaptation was his first opera, completed in 1904 but rejected by Gustav Mahler, then conductor of the Vienna Opera. Schmidt had to wait a decade before Notre Dame was produced. Franz Schalk led the premiere in Vienna on 1 April, 1914, to great acclaim. The opera’s success catapulted Schmidt to international fame, with productions in Vienna, Dresden, Budapest, Berlin, and other European musical centers. Ironically, it is all but forgotten today. Fortunately, Notre Dame lives on in three orchestral excerpts: the prelude to the first act, this Intermezzo, and some Carnival Music. The Intermezzo is the earliest of them, and actually preceded the opera. Schmidt composed it as an independent orchestral movement in 1902‐3. It was performed in Vienna on 6 December 1903. The composer subsequently incorporated it into the opera, where its thematic material plays a central role. A dominant characteristic of Schmidt’s musical style is Hungarian flavor, with its inflected modal scales and irregular rhythmic patterns. These characteristics suited him well for Notre Dame, whose heroine Esmeralda is a naïve, charming Gypsy girl, unaware of her seductive allure. The luscious string music that dominates the Intermezzo became the “Esmeralda” theme in the opera. Its passionate expression makes the excerpt extremely effective. Schmidt’s contemporary, the composer Karl Goldmark, praised the Intermezzo as “the most beautiful of Gypsy music.” Schmidt thought highly of the Intermezzo, and quoted from it in his Second Symphony. As a character portrait of Esmeralda and as a superb showcase for strings, the movement is spellbinding. The score calls for two flutes, piccolo, two oboes, two clarinets, two bassoons, contrabassoon, four horns, three trumpets, cymbals, two harps, and strings. Symphony No.3 in F, Op.90 JOHANNES BRAHMS 1833‐ 1897 Approximate duration 33 minutes None of the four Brahms symphonies is a lightweight undertaking. The undisputed master of absolute music in the second half of the nineteenth century, Brahms always had a good deal to express. Despite the nay‐saying of the Wagnerites during his lifetime, he said it magnificently. Thus, to note that the Third Symphony is the shortest of his four symphonies is not to belittle his achievement in any way. We are prompted to ask why; surely Brahms had a reason for comparative brevity. Indeed, one of the patterns that characterizes Brahms's music is that his means of expression became more economical as he grew older. There is little fat on any of the compositions from the 1880s, and none whatsoever on the last works. Musically, the four Brahms symphonies are classics: staples of the repertoire, anchor works on -3-
whatever program they appear, and emotionally rewarding in a way that increases with repeated hearings. Fresh consideration of the Third Symphony encourages us to think about where Brahms was in his career when he approached this Symphony, which is neither a first effort nor a swansong, but the proud announcement of a master in full command of his faculties. Musicologist Julius Harrison has written: Brahms was fifty when he completed his Third symphony in 1883. Romantic as ever in his themes and harmonies and still faithful to classical forms, he yet brought to the music something quite different in its spirit and general style. Gone are the stricken moods and final triumph of the First symphony, the homely beauty and exhilaration of the Second. Instead, there is now more than a suggestion of a composer rebelling against the march of the years; a still youthful heart trying to come to terms with middle age creeping on all too soon. If we accept Harrison's analysis, we are confronted with a big topic ‐‐ impending middle age and, by extension, the greater issue of mortality itself ‐‐ and terse delivery. Despite the tonality of F, traditionally associated with pastoral themes, an element of heroism prevails in the Third Symphony. It was to find its greatest expression and catharsis in the powerful finale to the Fourth Symphony, but that is not to underestimate its effect in the Third. A flair for dramatic tension Brahms's carefully honed instinct for dramatic development and tension allows him to build his momentum steadily through his four movements. In the eighteenth century, musical substance and import tended to be concentrated in the opening movement; finales tended toward the less profound. During the nineteenth century, psychological emphasis gradually shifted from the opening movement to the last, particularly in the realm of the symphony. The most obvious pivotal work effecting this change is the Beethoven Ninth Symphony, but the pattern is perceptible in many strictly instrumental works as well. Brahms was a musical architect, by which we mean that he was keenly aware of larger structure and formal design in his compositions. Three of his four movements in the F major Symphony are in sonata‐
allegro form. No complex technical secrets shroud the materials of his building blocks in this piece. All its components are readily perceptible to the listening ear. He announces his principal motive directly: three opening chords that usher in the first big theme, a sweeping descending arpeggio that answers the ascending chords. Built on the musical spelling F‐A‐F (an acronym for Brahms's purported motto, "frei aber froh", or "free but happy"), this opening idea proves significant enough throughout the entire work that the Third has been called a "motto symphony." It dominates the entire first movement, and serves as the cyclic glue binding the finale to the whole. Compare Karl Geiringer referring to it in the opening Allegro con brio: After the passionate development the waves of excitement calm down, and the horn announces the motto, in a mystic E‐flat major, as a herald of heavenly peace. with Peter Latham's description of the closing bars in the finale: -4-
Above shimmering strings a horn dreams of the F‐A‐F motto and the Symphony drops gently to rest on the sleepy wings of its first subject. Formal discipline, melodic freedom, instrumental color Yet it is misleading to imply that the Symphony is one‐sided or monothematic. To the contrary, the Third is an astonishing amalgam of formal discipline and melodic freedom. Among its delights are a wondrous richness of instrumental color. Throughout the score are many indications that Brahms took especial care with his orchestration. For example, he uses trombones in three of the movements, and in one the contrabassoon replaces the tuba. The second movement opens with woodwinds and horns; later both clarinet and bassoon are featured. A wonderful cello theme stands out memorably in the intimate, romance‐like Poco allegretto. All four movements end quietly. Brahms has no need for the bombast of loud closing measures; the tension and drama he creates in his music are part of a larger design. Indeed, he manages to deliver this Symphony without any real slow movement. Both inner movements function as tension‐relievers, more like intermezzi. We have the sense of an event of immense importance unfolding before us at the commencement of the finale, and Brahms does not disappoint us. Elements of chorale fuse with his gift for letting the music gather its own internal momentum. The journey is both exhilarating and emotionally satisfying, and when we hear the familiar strains of the opening motto and theme, we have a comforting sense of closure that says we have arrived safely in harbor. The Third Symphony is scored for woodwinds in pairs plus contrabassoon, four horns, two trumpets, three trombones, timpani and strings. Piano Concerto No. 3 in D minor, Op. 30 SERGEI RACHMANINOFF 1873‐1943 Approximate duration 39 minutes Movie music "Rach Three," as this splendid concerto has come to be known, got a big shot in the arm in 1996 with the release of Australian director Scott Hicks’s film Shine. Geoffrey Rush won an academy award for best actor in his portrayal of the emotionally disturbed pianist David Helfgott. The soundtrack featured Rachmaninoff’s Third Piano Concerto prominently, making it that year’s best known piece of classical music. Such integration of classical music into popular culture can be a double‐edged sword. On the one hand, it introduces an enormous untapped audience to the excitement and emotional power of symphonic music. On the other hand, film scores run the risk of cheapning a piece, whether by doing “surgery” to shorten a movement’s length, or by excessive repetition along the lines of top‐40 radio. Like its older sibling, the popular Second Piano Concerto, “Rach Three” is an audience favorite. The beauty of both these works is that they still retain considerable freshness. Rachmaninoff the self‐promoter -5-
As with all Rachmaninoff's piano concerti, the Third was a major vehicle for his own performing career. He composed it during the summer of 1909, while on holiday in Russia at his family's country villa, Ivanovka. Rachmaninoff was preparing for his first American tour, where he planned to unveil the new work. The premiere took place on 28 November, 1909 in New York City, with Walter Damrosch on the podium. Gustav Mahler conducted the third performance, also in New York, in January 1910. Structurally and melodically, this Concerto is on a par with the ever‐popular Second Concerto. In many ways this is the more polished work. Rachmaninoff had eight years' additional experience and was riding the exhilarating momentum of the earlier concerto’s enormous success. Still young, his mind's ear was filled with dozens of musical ideas. On manuscript paper, they emerged with a better command of structural logic in his music. Despite its length, this is a disciplined and well‐thought out piece. Rachmaninoff's gift for extended, passionate themes is in full flower, and he maintains a healthy balance of different moods. Influence of Liszt When he was the soloist with an orchestra, Rachmaninoff favored the concertos of Tchaikovsky and Liszt if he was not playing one of his own. The concept of thematic unity among movements, pioneered by Liszt, seems to have exerted an influence on Rachmaninoff in composing his Third Concerto. The fiery third movement (which ensues without pause from the reverent Intermezzo), reiterates the rhythm of the opening theme. Gemini cadenzas An unusual structural element of the concerto is the cadenza, which exists in two versions whose second parts coalesce. The first, shorter one emphasizes complex passage work, while the second, a massive 75 bars, requires both strength and stamina for extensive chordal playing. Both are wonderful musically and pianistically. Some pianists choose the briefer version, believing it expresses a more succinct and musically sensitive aspect of Rachmaninoff’s keyboard personality. Others prefer the thunderous drama of the 75‐bar version. Mr. Bianconi has chosen the longer one. In ambition and textural variety, either cadenza demonstrates Rachmaninoff's dazzling achievement in innovative piano technique and composition, drawing on motives clearly related to the transparent opening theme. The placement of the cadenza follows an expanded development section that is also particularly brilliant for the soloist. Rachmaninoff was playing and composing splendidly when he wrote this concerto. The finesse of his orchestration, particularly in the use of woodwinds, and the sparkle and power of his solo part attest to the explosive growth he was experiencing both as performer and as composer. Rachmaninoff introduced the Third Concerto in 1909 during his first American concert tour, playing it with Walter Damrosch and the New York Symphony and, later, with Gustav Mahler and the New York Philharmonic. (Oh, to have been a fly on the wall at that performance!) Its bravura passage work and monumental scale have made it a Mount Everest of the piano concerto literature. The score calls for two flutes, two oboes, two clarinets, two bassoons, four horns, two trumpets, three trombones, tuba, timpani, side drum, cymbals, bass drum, solo piano, and strings. -6-
By Laurie Shulman ©2011●First North American Serial Rights Only -7-