Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Beethoven - String Quartet No. 11 'Quartetto Serioso'

Chamber music by its very nature is a more intimate form of music. While in modern times it is played in concert halls, it was originally meant for more private performance in homes and smaller recital halls. In the 19th century before recordings, music making in the home was a form of entertainment shared by many.  The string quartet was a popular form of chamber music, and many composers tried their hand at it sooner or later.

While Haydn didn't necessarily invent the string quartet, he certainly helped codify it as a form. Mozart took his lead from Haydn and contributed his genius to the quartet also.  These were the two composers that loomed over Beethoven when he was composing his first set of six quartets, Opus 18. As was Beethoven's way, he seldom stayed very long in any niche with his compositions. That's not to say he  had no style, but that it could be broad and encompass quite different ideas. The String Quartet No. 11 is one of his giant-step compositions that is quite different from his other string quartets in form and feeling.

Beethoven always showed his originality, even in his first quartets, but he also worked hard to have them conform somewhat to the form as devised by Haydn. He managed to straddle the two extremes of originality and conformity with his first six quartets. His next three quartets, the so-called Rasumovsky Quartets of opus 59 show his development in his craft and the gap between creative originality and tradition grew wider. His next quartet, No. 10  nicknamed 'The Harp' because the strings play pizzacato a lot in the first movement follows the trend. The 11th got its nickname from the tempo indication of the third movement, allegro assai vivace ma serioso.  The overall feeling of the quartet is indeed serious, and there are some surprises along the way.


The 11th was composed in 1810 but did not have its first performance until 1814.  The first movement opens with the four strings playing the first theme loudly in unison, somewhat of a surprise as to the suddenness of the beginning and the downright harshness of it. The second theme is sweeter in nature in the beginning, but there also outbursts within it. An experienced listener who is hearing this quartet for the first time would be expecting to hear the exposition repeated as the style of the times dictated, but Beethoven has no repeat signs and the music jumps right into the development and recapitulation. The first movement is very short, usually less than five minutes, which in itself is a break from the traditional long first movements. Beethoven boiled down the contents of the first movement to the essence of expression.

The second movement is in song form and leads into the third movement, a scherzo of the most 'serious' kind. The finale goes through a gentle beginning, a spirited rondo movement proper and ends up with all things, a fast, upbeat, short coda that ends the work. This rather 'happy' musics appearance in an otherwise quite serious work can be interpreted in a number of ways. Perhaps Beethoven felt the need to lighten the mood before the end of the quartet, or perhaps he was just playing with the emotions of the listener as he used to do when he improvised on the piano by playing something heavy and then something light at the end.

This quartet is like a conversation between four people, a spirited conversation to be sure, but a conversation and not an argument. What the subject matter of the conversation is in words is anybodies guess. But that conversational quality of chamber music in general and the string quartet in particular, is what's so attractive about it. This quartet with its condensed first movement, surprises that run throughout and the way it ends keeps it somewhat of an enigma. But that too makes it attractive to the ear. And when regard is given for the quartets that come after this one, the great late quartets of Beethoven, we realize that we have heard only the beginning of his genius in the form.

Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Haydn - Symphony No. 103 'Drum Roll'

Joseph Haydn began his career as a composer just as the Baroque era of music was winding down. He was one of the composers of the time that was exploring different techniques and sounds for musical expression. In his years as a composer there was a steady increase in complexity and richness in his music. His two trips to London, England enriched his technique even further. The set of twelve symphonies he wrote for his London visits are the culmination of his symphonic style. Indeed, Haydn wrote no more symphonies after his 104th, the last in the London series. Maybe Haydn himself realized that he had reached as far as he could go in the form.

But the London symphonies are not merely more difficult and rich. They are surely that, but they are also more  accessible to the listener. Haydn not only could compose learned and valid 'classical' music, but music that  was popular. The Symphony 103 is a good example.

The symphony earns its nickname from the drum roll for timpani that opens the introduction to the first movement.  It is slow and solemn,  and after a few bars leads into the first theme which is the opposite of the introduction as the tempo quickens and the mood lightens. The music of the introduction appears once again near the end of the movement and is whisked off by the first theme and horns.  The second movement is in variation form. There are two contrasting themes, the first in C minor, the second in C major, so this is actually a double variation. Each tune is heard in succession in variations.  The third movement is a Minuet with a heavy accent on the first beat which gives it more of an impression of a peasant dance than a refined, courtly dance. The last movement begins with a call from the horns, a pause, and the music proper begins. The horn call motif is heard throughout the movement, and it comes to a close.


Monday, January 23, 2012

Alkan - Selections From 48 Esquisses For Piano

The name Charles Alkan conjures up piano pieces of staggering difficulty,  immense length and  musical depth. And rightly so, with his Concerto For Solo Piano and other works that display a musical mind capable of creating colossal tapestries of complexity. But Alkan also had another side to his genius, that of a miniaturist. The Esquisses are an excellent example of Alkan's ability to have his musical say in much shorter pieces.

The title translates as 'sketches' and the set contains 49 sketches of tremendous variety and mood. Many of the pieces are also playable by pianists with a less than concert hall technique. They are a perfect introduction to the diversity of Alkan's musical thought. Most of the sketches are short, some very short.  The entire set of 49 sketches (the title says there are 48, but there are 49) can be played in about 75 minutes, so that averages out to about a minute and a half for each piece. Alkan's shifting moods are dealt with as they arise, and when the mood has run its course the piece stops.  The entire set makes for a good listen, but I've narrowed it down to eight of my favorites from the set:

  • No.4 Les Cloches (The Bells) -  The piano begins with the tolling of bells that continues throughout.
  • No. 10 Increpatio (rebuke, harsh criticism) - The piano's harsh opinion. About what, we don't know. 
  • No. 16 Fantasia -  A rippling right hand runs a sprint, and the piece ends quickly.
  • No. 18 - Liedchen (ditty) - A simple song.
  • No.32 - Minuetto - Not really a minuet, but at the tempo of a minuet. The beginning is sad, with a middle section in a faster tempo and lighter mood.
  • No. 37 Scherzettino -  A piece played very fast.
  • No. 45 - Les Diablotins (little devils) - A short church chorale is interrupted by the demons. Each time the chorale is heard it is responded to , until the diablotin has the final word. 
  • No. 49 Laus Deo (praise God) - A solemn, slow,  beginning that reminds the ear of different pitched bells tolling together gives way to a more  reverent hymn. The bells return at the end.  

Sunday, January 22, 2012

Litolff - Concerto Symphonique No. 5

Living a complicated lifestyle evidently was a part of Litolff's personality. He traveled Europe on concert tours, got married and divorced, spent time in prison, had to escape from Germany after he participated in the revolution of 1848, married a widow of a music publisher and managed the publishing firm into a successful venture, settled in Paris, was a piano teacher and conductor, was married four times - the last to a woman seventeen years old when he was 57 years old, was afflicted with rheumatism in later life but still continued to compose.  It was a life filled with hard work, travel, romance, hardship, depression and physical pain in later years.

Composing was evidently part of Litolff's personality also, as he composed throughout his life, sometimes amid thunderous turmoil. The Concerto Symphonique No. 5  is his Opus 123 and was written in 1869. He died in 1891, 22 years later and continued composing, mostly operas,  up until the end.

The Concerto Symphonique No. 5  has some differences from the previous ones. For one thing, the other Concerto Symphonique's are not by any means easy to play, but the fifth is even more demanding.  The fifth never achieved the popularity of the others. In the other works the scherzo is the second movement, in the fifth it is placed third.  Overall, the general feeling of the fifth is a little more serious, somewhat more complicated.

The work opens with a long orchestral section before the piano joins in in the give-and-take style that Litolff used in all the concertos. The second movement is a slow, lyrical song. The third movement is the most diabolical sounding scherzo Litolff ever wrote.  The fourth movement's cadenza is written out and is a fugue derived from part of the theme that opens the movement.

Litolff and Liszt knew and admired each other's music, and each ones music influenced the other. The concertos of Litolff show the influence of Liszt in structure and harmonic language, and the fact that Liszt dedicated  his first piano concerto to Litolff can be meant as a tribute to his influence. For a musician that composed so much and was friends with and admired by such other composers as Liszt and Berlioz, the four Concerto Symphoniques  are really the only pieces available on recordings, and only one recording of each one at that. Litolff's most popular piece of music is the scherzo from the Concerto Symphonique No. 4  which is available in a few recordings. It would be a good thing to be able to hear more of this composer's music, in the concert hall and on recordings.

Litolff - Concerto Symphonique No. 5

Saturday, January 21, 2012

Moscheles - Recollections Of Ireland

Ignaz Moscheles was a virtuoso pianist and composer that was good friends with Beethoven, mentor and friend to Mendelssohn and close associate with other Jewish musicians of the time like Anton Rubinstein, Joseph Joachim, and Ferdinand Hiller.  It was Moscheles who lead the counter-offensive when Richard Wagner wrote his antisemitic pamphlet 'Jewry In Music'


It seems Moscheles knew most all of the pianists of his time, and his honest and easy going disposition helped him to become friends with even some of the more modern (for his time) pianist like Liszt and Chopin.  Moscheles was born in 1794 and was fairly set in his ways technically when the music of Chopin and Liszt came to the fore. He tried diligently to play and relate to the music, but he had been taught the old school of playing and composing. With curved fingers that did most of the work at the keyboard, Moscheles couldn't really grasp the importance of using the arm and shoulder in playing the new works. As progress in composition goes, so goes the technique to be able to play it.  But to his credit he tried to keep an open mind and held his criticism to a minimum. It was his nature to be able to understand that he was indeed of the old school, and he tried to keep the things he thought were good about that in modern music.

Moscheles was very popular in England in the 1820's, and spent three weeks in Ireland in early 1826.. It was after this three week sojourn when he returned home that he wrote  Recollections Of Ireland. The work perhaps had its beginnings in improvisations on Irish melodies he played for audiences while in Ireland. He gave the first performance of the work in London later in 1826.

The work consists of four parts:
1. Fantasia - The orchestra begins with music that seems slightly familiar, the piano enters and expands upon these ideas.
2. Groves Of Blarney -  A gentle, sweet rendering of the tune evolves into glistening variations on the tune.
3. Garry Owen -  Originally an Irish drinking song that was made popular by the 5th Royal Irish Lancers. Moscheles varies the repetitions of the tune and it leads directly to the last movement.
4. St. Patrick's Day -  Moscheles sets the tune for the piano only, then the orchestra enters with a short episode and both join in for a variation of the tune.  Moscheles combines the tunes, and has the Groves Of Blarney enter for one last rendition and the melodies weave in and out before the joyful conclusion.

This music may not be a classic that plumbs the depths, but Moscheles didn't intend it to be. He intended it to be a pleasant diversion for piano and orchestra, kind of a tonal postcard of his visit to Ireland. To my mind, it accomplishes everything he wanted, and it deserves a place in the repertoire.

Moscheles Recollections Of Ireland

Friday, January 20, 2012

Alkan - Impromptu For Pedal Piano

Was Charles Alkan really a mystery as the pianist Ronald Smith (a champion of Alkan's works) called him in the title to his biography of the composer  Alkan the Enigma?  There is an essay by Stephanie McCallum, herself a pianist and champion of Alkan's works in her own right, that discusses the possibility that Alkan suffered from a form of autism or a mental illness. The fact that Alkan went into seclusion about 1848 after a brilliant start to his career as a composer and performer does beg the question.  There are words by Alkan himself in a letter:

“I’m becoming daily more and more misanthropic and misogynous…nothing worthwhile, good or useful to do… no one to devote myself to. My situation makes me horridly sad and wretched. Even musical production has lost its attraction for me for I can’t see the point or goal”.

Those are words of a man who is cognizant enough to recognize what is happening to him, while at the same time not knowing why. Depression, Asperger's Syndrome, Schizophrenia,  are all possibilities but it will most likely remain speculation. Alkan did begin giving a few recitals later in life, but essentially remained a recluse.

There is no doubting the genius of Alkan as a performer. There is ample evidence through witnesses that heard him play. Liszt himself said that Alkan had the finest technique he had ever seen. And we have the proof of his genius as a composer with the music he wrote, which is much more available in print and recordings than ever before.  And no matter what the reason for his turning away from society, there is also no doubt that he was original to the point of being eccentric in some of his compositions. The Impromptu for pedal piano is a case in point.

If a music lover knows anything about Alkan or his music, it usually is that he was a pianist and wrote piano music. But he also could play the violin and was a virtuoso of the pedal piano. The pedal piano resembles a regular piano but with the addition of an entire piano played by the means of foot pedals, like the pedals of an organ.  Alkan wrote a substantial amount of music for this instrument. The pedal piano was in vogue for a short time in the 19th century. Robert Schumann also wrote music for it.   The pedal piano is now a rare instrument and much of Alkan's music written for it has been transcribed for the organ.

The Impromptu is based on Martin Luther's hymn 'A Mighty Fortress Is Our God',  a somewhat odd choice for a Jewish musician to make.  It was written in the late 1860's and is possibly the last piece he wrote for the pedal piano. Ronald Smith has written that the piece, while written in one continuous movement is actually in four distinct sections. The work begins as a passacaglia, with the hymn tune serving as the continual bass melody, the second section is a scherzo, the third a siciliano and the fourth a fugue.  So it is far from being what an impromptu implies. It is a highly structured set of variations, imaginative in form and sound. Like the man himself,  the impromptu is a complicated mixture of genius, eccentricity, power and mystery.

Thursday, January 19, 2012

Paderewski - Piano Concerto in A Minor

Paderewski wanted to be known as a composer as much as a piano virtuoso, perhaps even more so.  He had scant little time to compose after his premieres in Vienna and Paris as his popularity skyrocketed.

Paderewski's career began in fits and starts with studying composition off and on in Warsaw and Germany. He was accepted as a pupil of the greatest piano pedagogue of the era, Theodore Leschetizky when Paderewski was 24 years old. Leschetizky lamented that Paderewski had begun serious study far too late to develop a concert technique, but Paderweski practiced non-stop to try and make up for lost time. He practiced so much that Leschetizky worried about him ruining his health with so much practice.  But Paderewski persevered, and became a piano virtuoso known around the world.
Paderweski was the most popular and most well-known of any pianist of his time. The adulation audiences gave him bordered on hysteria and he loved to play for them, sometimes giving so many encores that the encores took as long as the recital.

He traveled extensively and became a very rich man, so rich that many times he would refuse payment for a concert. He was also the second Prime Minister of Poland after World War One. He was not only a fine pianist but an excellent public speaker.

Paderweski finished composing and orchestrating the piano concerto in 1889 and it was premiered in 1890 in Vienna. Paderewski wanted to play the premiere himself, but he acquiesced to a request from Anna Essipoff (a brilliant pianist, student and wife of Leschetisky) to play the premiere.  Essipoff had played other pieces of Paderewski in her recitals and wanted to premiere this work also. The orchestra was conducted by Hans Richter, one of the great conductors of the era. The concerto is in three movements:

I. Allegro - The work opens with a loud statement by the orchestra by way of introduction. The first theme is played quickly after with woodwinds and strings. The piano enters and takes up the theme. After the theme is expanded, a second theme is played solo by the piano. After the expansion of the second theme the development section begins with the first theme. After a solo for timpani the soloist plays a short cadenza and the development section continues. Paderewski follows traditional sonata form as he brings back both themes in the recapitulation with the customary key changes in the secondary material. A cadenza follows the recapitulation, after which a short coda brings the movement to a virtuosic close.

II. Romanza: Andante -  Paderewski finished the orchestration of the concerto while he was in Paris, and in a move that he later admitted was presumptuous, he took the completed score to the apartment of Camille Saint-Saëns for his opinion. The two composers had previously met when Paderewski played Saint-Saëns Piano Concerto No. 4 In C Minor.  After initially grumbling about being disturbed, Saint-Saëns read through the score while Paderewski played it on the piano. The entire concerto pleased Saint-Saëns, but it was the second movement that he asked to be repeated. Saint-Saëns advised Paderweski to not change a thing in the work, that it would be a crowd pleaser. It was in this second movement, in what can arguably called the heart of the concerto, where Paderewski comes closest to the passion and beauty of his country man's music, Chopin. The theme is first played gently by the woodwinds, and when the piano enters it plays its own rendition of it. After sections that are as light as tender chamber music, the theme grows in passion and depth until it gradually fades away at the end.

III. Allegro molto vivace - The final movement begins with  a stomping Polish dance that has plenty of opportunity for the soloist to show their stuff. It is followed by a more reverent theme in the orchestra that is ornamented by the piano in its own version. These two themes comprise most of the movement as they are altered and elaborated on each time they are played. A grand coda whips up the virtuosity as the music races to the finish.