Respighi - Pines Of Rome

Ottorino Respighi  (1879 - 1936) was born in Italy and was a composer, musicologist and conductor. He learned piano and violin from his father and went on to study violin, viola and composition at the school in Bologna, Italy.  After his schooling he accepted an offer to be principle violist at St. Petersburg in the Russian Imperial Theater's Italian Opera season. While there he studied orchestration with Rimsky-Korsakov.  He also spent time in Germany before accepting a position as teacher of composition in Rome where he spent the rest of his life.

Pines of Rome is one part of Respighi's Roman trilogy, the other tone poems being Fountains of Rome and Roman Festivals. Pines of Rome is a symphonic poem in four sections that represent different places in Rome:

The Pines of the Villa Borghese - The tone poem opens with a flurry of activity in the orchestra as Respighi paints a tonal picture of children raucously playing (and getting into the inevitable squabble) among the pine groves of the Borghese gardens in Rome.
Pines near a catacomb - The orchestras low pitched instruments give the impression of the deep catacombs, complete with the chanting of priests.
The Pines of the Janiculum -  On the second highest hill of Rome, the legendary home of the two-faced god Janus, a nightingale is heard singing.  This is the first composition known that asks for a real recording of a bird call.  It is to be played at the indicated place in the score, and a specific recording is mentioned in the score.

The Pines of the Appian Way -  The Appian Way is a road that was begun in 3112 B.C.E. and still exists. Respighi paints a tonal picture of the road at sun rise in the fog, and slowly in the distance can be heard the marching of a Roman Legion making its way up the road.  As it gets nearer, the music gets louder and more forceful. The composer asks for the ancient buccina in the score, a trumpet used in Roman times. The music continues growing and finally with trumpets blaring and an all around splendid racket, the tone poem comes to a close.

Paganini - Violin Concerto No. 4

The modern day equivalent of the mania that Paganini (and Liszt) experienced would be the attention rock stars receive. Paganini was a brilliant violinist that almost single-handedly  transformed violin technique, but he was also a great showman.  The clothes he wore on stage, the 'tricks' he did with the violin such as imitating barn yard animals, and the mystique brought about by the legend that he gained his playing skills by trading his soul to the devil, all added to the general clamor and hysteria of audiences that heard him.

But there was more to the man than a brilliant violinist and charismatic stage presence. He was a very good composer with a gift for melody. Both Berlioz and Rossini admired his compositions. But Paganini's attitude toward his music did not do much for its popularity. Paganini didn't publish any of his violin concertos in his lifetime. He guarded his compositions closely, only letting the orchestra see the music the day of the concert at rehearsal and the performance, then he would at the end of the concert gather up all the parts and take them with him. He basically wrote the concertos for his use and his use only.

In an age that saw music as a very current event, Paganini constantly needed something different for his concerts. Paganini's orchestra can sometimes seem like nothing more than an accompaniment, but after all, they were written to showcase his violin playing.  Also, Paganini was not a piano player as so many other composers were. He could play the violin, viola and the guitar. Berlioz also played the guitar, and this no doubt influenced Paganini as it did Berlioz. Composer/pianists tend to favor harmonies as laid out on the keyboard while composer/guitar players would favor harmonies spread further apart because of the nature of the instrument. The guitar is also capable of a great deal of tone color depending on which string is used to play a given note.

The 4th Violin concerto begins with the usual orchestral exposition of the main themes of the movement. The opening theme is dramatic and grabs our attention. The second theme is more lyrical and light, and Italian in mood. The violin enters, and the fireworks begin and go throughout the movement. The second movement is a quasi-opera in its drama. The third movement has the violin utter the first theme to the accompaniment of a triangle. The orchestra dances, the violin joins in the dance and takes a few steps of its own before the concerto's brilliant ending.

To anyone familiar with Paganini's First and Second Violin Concertos,  some similarities are obvious.  But the reason audiences came to his concerts was to hear the greatest violinist of the age. Paganini knew what the crowd wanted, and he gave it to them. If it was in a form already familiar to them, all the better to be able to concentrate on his playing.

Busoni - Piano Concerto in C Major

Ferruccino Busoni (1866 - 1924) was an Italian virtuoso pianist, writer, teacher, composer and conductor. He was a child prodigy and had his first public recital at the age of seven.  He conducted one of his own compositions for choir when he was twelve. He wrote most of his compositions for the piano,  but he also wrote some pieces for voice and opera. He was also an active transciber and arranger and transcribed many of Bach's organ pieces for solo piano and also transcribed Bach's Chaconne For Solo Violin for piano.  He also transcribed pieces for piano and orchestra and four-hand piano.  Throughout his adult life he traveled around the world giving recitals and concerts, including extended tour of North America. While Italian, he made his home base at Berlin late in his life.  He was much better known as a pianist and conductor than composer throughout his life.

The Piano Concerto In C Major  is Busoni's masterpiece and culmination of his first period as a composer.  His compositions after the concerto saw him condense his ideas and compose works in a different tone and form. But there's nothing about the concerto that is condensed. It is in five movements, takes over an hour to perform, is written for a huge orchestra with male chorus.  Concertos for solo instrument and orchestra tend to fall within two categories. Concertos such as the traditional Classic Concerto pits the soloist at odds with the orchestra, with the conflict coming in varying degrees according to the composer and nature of the work.  The other type  places the piano as another member of the orchestra, a work for orchestra with piano obbligato.  Henri Litollf's Concerto Symphoniques fall in this category. Busoni's concerto is of the orchestra with piano obbligato type.

The piano is hardly silent at all through the entire work, and the music places extreme demands on the soloist technically, physically, and musically.  The orchestra part is no less demanding for the players and conductor. Due to its length and level of difficulty, the concerto has always been on the periphery of the repertoire. After the premiere of the work in 1904 with Busoni as soloist, his students were pretty much the only advocates for the work.  In the late 1950's the pianist John Ogdon championed the piece and it is occasionally performed, more rarely recorded.  Ogdon made a recording of it that is held to be definitive by many.

Busoni sketched a picture that symbolized the aspects of his concerto. He had an artist refine the picture and had it published with the score.  Busoni himself wrote about this pictorial representation of his work in a letter to his wife:

'It is the idea of my piano concerto in one picture
and it is represented by architecture, landscape and
symbolism. The three buildings are the first, third and
fifth movements. In between come the two 'living' ones;
Scherzo and Tarantelle; the first, a nature-play,
represented by a miraculous flower and bird; the second
by Vesuvius and cypress trees. The sun rises over the
entrance; a seal is fastened to the door of the end
building. The winged being quite at the end is taken
from Oehlenschläger's chorus and represents mysticism
in nature.'

Adam Oehlenschläger was the Dutch poet and playwright that wrote the text that Busoni set to music in the last movement of the work. Busoni originally was writing an 'evening of music' based on the poet's drama Alladin, Or The Magic Lamp.  He never completed the work, but he did compose music for the final scene in the cave of the play. This is what eventually made its way into the concerto's last movement. As strange as it may seem to the casual listener to hear a men's chorus sing praises to Allah in a concerto written by an Italian composer, Busoni thought the words and the music conveyed the serenity he wanted to evoke in the final movement.  Busoni had used some of the themes from the music he did write for Alladin in the first movement, and the inclusion of the music and words in the finale rounded off the work to Busoni's satisfaction, regardless of how it may appear to others.

The work is divided into 5 main sections, with further divisions in the third movement:

I. Prologo E Introito (prologue and introduction)- The orchestra introduces the music, the piano enters and clangs its way up and down the keyboard playing chords.
II. Pezzo Giocoso (playful piece) -   This movement is something like a strange scherzo and begins lightly,  and turns into a strange dance. A Neapolitan sailor song is quoted,  the movement ends strangely and quietly.
III Pezzo Serioso (serious piece) - Made up of four parts:

• Introductio (introduction) - A lamentation, ending with the piano and orchestra playing very softly.
• Prima Pars (main part) -  The dirge continues with momentary light showing through the darkness.
• Altera Pars (altered part) -  As the title suggests, the theme is altered  and extended.
• Ultima Pars (final part) -  This entire movement and its four parts can be looked at as a preparation for the choral finale. 

IV All' Italiana (Tarantella) -  The Tarantella is an Italian dance that folklore says is caused by the bite of the Tarantula spider. A wild dance for the soloist and orchestra.

V Cantico - A beginning that's slow and solemn gives way to reminisces of other themes heard previously that lead up to the male choir's singing:

(English translation)

The Pillars of Rock begin to make soft and gentle music

Lift up your hearts to the Power Eternal,
Draw ye to Allah nigh, witness his work.
Earth has its share of rejoicing and sorrow,
Firm the foundations that hold up the world.
Thousands and thousands of years march relentlessly,
Show forth in silence His glory, His might,
Flashing immaculate, splendid and fast they stand,
Time cannot shake them, yea time without end.

Hearts flamed in ecstasy, hearts turned to dust again,
Playfully life and death staked each his claim,
Yet in mute readiness patiently tarrying,
Splendid and mighty both, for evermore.
Lift up your hearts to the Power Eternal,
Draw ye to Allah nigh, witness his work.
Fully regenerate now is the world of yore,
Praising its Maker e'en unto the end.

This concerto is so large and vast, it is like a world unto itself.  It may always be on the edge of the repertoire, any performance of it will no doubt be an event over and above the normal concert fare. It is a mysterious, incredible creation of a profound musical mind.

Ippolitov-Ivanov - Caucasian Sketches Suite

Mikhail Ippolitov-Ivanov (1859 - 1935) was a Russian composer, teacher and conductor. He studied at the St. Petersburg Conservatory and was a student of Rimsky-Korsakov. His first appointment was music director and conductor at Tbilisi, capital city of the country of Georgia, south of Russia.  He held that position for seven years. He later became the director of the Conservatory in Moscow in 1905 and held that post until 1924.  He managed to stay independent for the most part and didn't get involved in the cultural dust-ups that occurred in the arts after the Russian Revolution.

The Caucasian Sketches of Ippolitov-Ivanov refer to the region of the Caucasus Mountains region of  Eurasia, specifically the country that is called Georgia.  It is one of the most culturally diverse places in the world as a result of many factors. Bordering the Black Sea, the area was a major trade route.  It was first influenced by the Roman Empire, and after its demise was much influenced by the Eastern Roman Empire.  Despite a close relationship with Russia, the 18th century saw invasions from Persia and Turkey and their subsequent additions to the culture.  The entire Causcasus region shares in Georgia's diversity and as such the people of the region and Georgia don't fit into any of the major ethnic categories of Europe or Asia.  Of course this diversity spills over into the arts and in the musical world leads to music that can sound European one moment, exotic and oriental the next.

Ippolitov-Ivanov was influenced greatly by the diversity he witnessed at Tbilisi during his years there. He even went back in later years to help reorganize the Conservatory there. He wrote two sets of Caucasian Sketches, the first one in 1894. He uses folk tunes of the region with brilliant use of the orchestra. The Suite consists of 4 separate 'sketches':

1. In A Mountain Pass -  A musical painting of the mountains in the region.
2. In A Village - The English horn is used to play an exotic tune in imitation of the native zurna of the region.
3. In a Mosque - Although Georgia is predominantly Orthodox now, it is one of the few places in the world where an Islamic Mosque and a Christian Church stand side by side in Tbilisi.
4. Procession Of The Sardar - Sardar is a Persian word that means leader.

Ippolitov-Ivanov wrote music in many genres, but most of his output was for voice,  chorus or orchestra. He carried on the tradition of orchestration that he learned from Rimsky-Korsakov as his music for orchestra is brilliantly and imaginatively orchestrated.  His music is mostly forgotten, with only the 'Procession of The Sardar' from this suite played occasionally.

Liszt - Symphonic Poem 'Hamlet'

The symphonic poems of Franz Liszt have garnered their share of interpretation of meaning.  Of course they are all a type of music written with a specific person, place or event in mind, program music. This type of music lends itself more to interpretation of meaning (and downright conjecture) than absolute music.  Liszt's tenth symphonic poem Hamlet seems to have developed two main camps of interpretation of meaning. One takes it as tone painting of the actual events and people in the play, the other is more of a character sketch of Hamlet and his emotions during the action of Shakespeare's play.

As Liszt didn't leave a detailed program, the piece is certainly open to differing ideas as to its specific meaning.  The works original purpose was as an overture to a dramatic production of the play, so there is no doubt musical references to events and people in the drama with a few references in the score as evidence of that.  To paraphrase Liszt's thoughts on program music, he thoughts on it were explained by using the example of how a landscape could produce a mood within the viewer, and that music also could evoke a mood within the listener. As the landscape paints the mood, so can music paint the mood.  So while some composers may have had a specific non-musical meaning behind their music, to me it is enough to know in general terms what the story is without a highly detailed, bar by bar analysis of which notes and phrases represent what specifically.  As Liszt himself said in a letter to a friend:

"Without any reserve I completely subscribe to the rule of which you so kindly want to remind me, that those musical works which are in a general sense following a programme must take effect on imagination and emotion, independent of any programme. In other words: All beautiful music must be first rate and always satisfy the absolute rules of music which are not to be violated or prescribed"

Liszt did make some changes to the original overture and this final version was not heard for decades after his death.  The work begins with the tempo indication Sehr langsam und Düster which loosely translates to Very slowly and gloomily.  A horn makes the first entry with muted notes that sound unearthly.  The orchestra enters after these notes and keeps with the eeriness of the music by playing softly, and the horn once again utters the stopped notes, orchestra responds as before for a few measures and then the time signature changes and the tempo indication changes to Moving, but moving very slowly.  The indication Always gloomily appears occasionally throughout the first part. Tempo changes occur, Allegro appassionato, Allegro agitato, but the gloom never lifts off the orchestra completely. And as a reminder, Liszt repeats the opening tempo indications at the beginning of the ending, very slowly and gloomily with the added instruction Moderato-funebre , the death of Hamlet.

Someone once said that of all the major composers, Liszt was the one that threw his spear farthest into the future. That may be open to discussion, but Liszt did reveal the passions, terrors, loves and hatreds of humans in his music, perhaps to a degree as yet matched by any other composer.  The symphonic poem is a mysterious and gloomy piece. Whether it follows the mood of the play, its specific actions, or if it 'paints' the moods and frames of mind of Hamlet, I leave to the listener.

Saint-Saëns - Introduction and Rondo Capriccioso

Camille Saint-Saëns was a natural musician, one of those who was born to make and create music. As he said himself, "I produce music the way an apple tree produces apples."  He was a child prodigy, memorized all 32 Beethoven piano sonatas and offered the audience to choose one that he would play from memory as an encore at his debut recital in 1845 when he was ten years old.  Such a feat made him world famous, even in the United States.  He composed his first piano piece at 4 years of age, his first public appearance was as an accompanist for a Beethoven violin sonata when he was 5 years old. He wrote his first symphony at sixteen. But his genius was not limited to music. He knew how to read and write by three years old and had a partial command of Latin by the time he was seven.  His many interests throughout his life included geology, archaeology, botany, and the occult. He was an expert mathematician, wrote on a variety of subjects, and wrote a book of poetry.

Raw genius is perhaps not as rare as we think, but raw genius combined with a capacity to work and train that genius to its full potential perhaps is. Saint-Saëns seems to have had both. That he was a quick study is evident, but he developed his gifts to a remarkable degree through effort and diligence. That he was able to do this with what appeared to the ordinary person with not much effort probably caused him to have as many enemies as friends. Jealousy over someone else's precocity isn't that rare of a thing.  Perhaps that is one issue that has fueled some criticisms of his music over the years, that it is too 'slick', shallow, no depth of feeling, cold.  To be sure,  his music does not plumb the depths like a Bruckner symphony, but why would it? Saint-Saëns is not Bruckner, or Beethoven, or anyone else. His music is well written, has its moments of feeling and passion that is more refined, and even subdued. But a point can be made with understatement as well as (and sometimes better) than overstatement.  It pretty much boils down to what the listener likes and 'gets' out of the music.

Saint-Saëns wrote the Introduction and Rondo Capriccioso for Violin and Orchestra  for the virtuoso violinist Pablo de Sarasate in 1863.  The work is fitting for a virtuoso, and Saint-Saëns shows that he was not only a master of orchestration (the craft of using instruments in varying combinations) but also of instrumentation ( the craft of using a particular instruments tone, pitch and dynamic range, technical possibilities, correct notation for the instrument). In this piece as well as his others for violin and orchestra, as well as the first Cello Concerto he shows his complete command and knowledge of what is possible on strings. For someone who did not play the violin, his artistic and practical knowledge of the instrument was amazing.

The rhythm and thematic material of the Introduction and Rondo Capriccioso  shows that Saint-Saëns shared with his fellow french composers a fascination with Spanish music. The work is a lyrical showpiece for the violin, with some pyrotechnics thrown in for good measure, especially near the end when the violin plays the accompaniment to the theme heard in the oboe.  For Saint-Saëns,  virtuosity could be a virtue as much as the music, but it must always contribute to the musical whole.

Roussel - Symphony No. 3

Albert Roussel (1869 - 1937) was a French composer and somewhat of a rarity. His first love in his youth was not music, but mathematics. He joined the French navy, and finally turned to music after he spent seven years in the navy.  When he was 25, he enrolled for instruction in harmony in 1894 after he resigned from the navy and finished his education in Paris where he also taught.  During his time in the navy and also afterwards he traveled to many places which influenced his music, especially India.

Early in his composing career Claude Debussy was an influence, and while some of his early works are somewhat in the style of impressionism, it was not Roussel's true voice as a composer. He  had a highly classical turn to his compositional thought, which led him to more to the neo-classisist school of composition. He composed  4 symphonies and a few other works for orchestra,  one concerto each for cello and piano, many chamber pieces, opera, ballet, and a handful of choral pieces. While his output was not large, he was a very influential composer in France between the world wars.

His orchestral music is not what is thought of as typically 'French', as it can have a 'bite' to it and a lot of rhythmic drive.  His music sounds 'heavier', but not as heavy as some German orchestral music.  The 3rd symphony opens with a first movement theme that is heavily accented and rhythmically terse. The contrast between this theme and the second theme is considerable, as the tune floats over the orchestra in muted colors until the first theme elbows its way back to the forefront. This movement is short for a first movement, at about five minutes, but with the total difference with the two themes and how they 'bounce' against each other, the movement manages to say what it needs to say, albeit in highly concentrated form.

The second movement is more relaxed in mood and length.  At about 15 minutes, it is three times as long as the first movement and longer than the other three movements put together. But it does build to a loud climax and slowly returns to the relaxed mood that it began with.  The third movement is a scherzo-dance that some have thought shows a Spanish influence. The last movement begins quietly, has a calm middle section, then the orchestra builds to a  loud, crashing end.