Paul & Linnea Bert Classic Accents Beethoven Symphony No. 1 Concert Notes Sponsored by

Aaron Jay Kernis (1960- ): Musica Celestis for String Orchestra Duration: approximately 11 minutes Pulitzer Prize-winning composer Aaron Jay Kernis originally hails from Bensalem Township, Pennsylvania. His early efforts were as a violinist and pianist; he began to focus on composition during his teen years. His efforts as a student met with a goodly amount of success, and ultimately saw him pursue work at the San Francisco Conservatory (with John Adams) and at the Manhattan School of Music (Charles Wourinen). Further studies led to extensive work at Yale University with Jacob Druckman, Morton Subotnick, and Bernard Rands. He presently serves on the faculty at Yale, and spent ten years as the director of the Minnesota Orchestra Composer Institute. From the composer’s score (parentheticals omitted): “Musica Celestis is inspired by the medieval conception of that phrase, which refers to the singing of the angels in heaven in praise of God without end. Musica Celestis follows a simple, spacious melody and harmonic pattern through a number of variations and modulations, and is framed by an introduction and coda.” This version for string orchestra has been arranged by the composer based on the second movement of his String Quartet No. 1 (1990). Its premiere took place in March of 1992 in San Francisco, performed by the Sinfonia San Francisco and conducted by Ransom Wilson.

Franz Joseph Haydn (1732-1809): Symphony No. 94 in G Major, “Surprise” Duration: approximately 20 minutes The composer who gave us the symphony in its present-day form, and the man who, according to many scholars, invented the string quartet, Franz Joseph Haydn needs no introduction for the experienced concert-goer. This is an old friend whom we all know and love. My own introduction to his music as a kid was via the string quartets, both playing them and hearing others do so. [I still haven’t figured out why it was the Menuetto, and not the more famous Adagio, from the “Emperor” quartet that captivated me so much upon first hearing. But I never could get that cello line out of my head,…] Haydn was the son of a wagon wheel maker, and was born in Rohrau, Austria. His early exposure to folk songs and peasant dance music clearly influenced his writing as an adult. As a boy, he sang in the choir of the Cathedral of St. Stephen in Vienna. Dismissed from the choir when his voice changed, Haydn scrounged around for several years, just barely making ends meet in order to survive. His talents eventually became known to the Esterhazy family, the richest and most powerful family of the old Austro-Hungarian Empire. He was taken into their household as a highly skilled servant,…and the rest is history. His thirty years of service to the Esterhazys were highly productive, and as word spread about his music, it became widely popular all over Europe. His last dozen symphonies (out of a total of 104) are known as the London symphonies; they were written in two groups of six, specifically for two separate trips to London, England (they are sometimes referred to as the Salomon symphonies, after Johann Peter Salomon, his London concert manager). Haydn gives his sense of humour free reign in many of his compositions; nicknames (such as Bird, Clock, Drum Roll, Farewell, and Lark) give some hint as to what the joke might be, obvious or hidden. The “Surprise” Symphony is one of the aforementioned London symphonies, and was composed for Haydn’s first visit to England. It was premiered in London on 23 March 1792, and it is arguably Haydn’s best known and most popular symphony. It abounds in joy and high spirits, and follows the traditional four-movement sequence we have come to associate with symphonies from this period: a sonata-allegro first movement (preceded by a slow introduction), a theme- and-variations second movement, a third movement Menuetto, and a sonata-rondo fourth movement. Everybody stay awake lest you be jolted out of your seat near the beginning of the second movement!!

Jean Sibelius (1865-1957): “Valse Triste” from Kuolema, Opus 44 Duration: approximately 5 minutes The year 1865 was a notable one not only for the ending of America’s Civil War; two of Scandinavia’s greatest composers were also born that year: Danish composer Carl Nielsen in June, and Finland’s Jean Sibelius in December. A doctor’s son, Johan Julius Christian was given the nickname Janne as a child, adopting the French spelling Jean (by which he is now known) during his student years. His early music studies included piano and later violin, and he would appear to have taken up composing during his late teens. Though it was his intent to study law upon entering Imperial Alexander University (the University of Helsinki since 1919), it was not long before he turned his attentions almost exclusively to the violin and to composing. Martin Wegelius became his primary composition instructor, later instructors would also include Albert Becker (in Berlin) and Karl Goldmark (in Vienna). In addition to the seven symphonies for which he is best known, Sibelius also wrote over a dozen evocative tone poems, many of which were inspired by The Kalevala, the 19th century epic poem of Finnish folklore and mythology compiled by Elias Lonnrot. Sibelius did very little composing during the last thirty years of his life. In 1955, his 90th birthday was widely celebrated, most notably by the Philadelphia Orchestra (Eugene Ormandy, conductor) and the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra (Sir Thomas Beecham, conductor); both orchestras gave special performances of his works in Finland that year. He passed away the following September at age 91, succumbing to a brain hemorrhage. “Valse triste” originated as part of the incidental music composed for Arvid Jarnefelt’s play, Kuolema (Death), and was first performed in December of 1903 (Jarnefelt was Sibelius’ brother-in-law). Of the six selections written for the play, this one is far and away the most famous, and took on a life of its own as a separate concert piece (tonight’s version was revised specifically for that purpose). Its original use in the play comes in Act I. A dying mother, her son having fallen asleep while on watch by her side, gradually becomes aware of a distant waltz melody drifting into her room. She moves silently to and fro, in time with the music; she attempts to mingle with the “guests,” all of whom avoid her glance. She sinks, exhausted, back onto her bed, but rises again as the dance resumes in a last flurried climax. A knock at the door and her resultant cry of woe tell us that Death stands at the threshold as the music dies into silence. This work was also featured in the 1934 film, “Death Takes a Holiday.” [Death takes on human form for three days so that he can visit Earth to find out why people fear him.]

Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827): Symphony No. 1 in C Major, Opus 21 Duration: approximately 25 minutes “I must despise the world which does not know that music is a higher revelation than all wisdom and philosophy.” Absolutely no compromise, absolutely no surrender. I guess that’s one of the reasons that Beethoven was my childhood hero (I still have the huge poster of him that hung on the wall of my bedroom for many years), and it didn’t hurt that he was also my beloved father’s favourite composer. I read everything I could find in my school library, then went through the same process at the Memphis Public Library. And all of this before I knew ANYTHING about his orchestral writing!! You mean, there’s more to him than the Pathetique and Moonlight Sonatas. If Haydn requires little by way of introduction for the experienced concert-goer, surely Beethoven requires even less so. He is considered by many to have been the greatest composer in the history of western art music, and the claim is not without merit. A Classicist after the model of Haydn and Mozart, it is Beethoven’s musical innovations that pushed music into the 19th century and what we now call the Romantic Period. Born in Bonn, Germany, Beethoven hailed from a family of musicians, much in the way that Bach and Mozart had before him; his grandfather (Ludwig) served as the court music director, with his father (Johann) holding a low-ranking position as a tenor. Young Ludwig also served in the Bonn court (as organist and violist) before permanently relocating to Vienna at age 22. We know all of the stories, of course: how his virtuosity at the keyboard took Vienna by storm, his successful assertion that artists deserved as much respect as the nobility, his furious disgust when Napoleon Bonaparte proclaimed himself Emperor of France, but most important of all, his coming to terms with his incurable deafness, rather than committing suicide . Beethoven’s “Early Period” includes the 1st Symphony. This work is similar in structure to those of Haydn and Mozart, and clearly shows the influence of both composers. But Beethoven, as was his wont, also clearly shows his own individualism from the get-go, and in several different ways. The Introduction to the First Movement, lasting nearly a minute and a half, has one tonic chord in root position: ONE. And that only occurs after nearly a minute of music has gone by (okay, that’s enough Theory Nerd talk for the moment!). The remainder of the movement is quite straightforward, if exhibiting more power and intensity than one normally would associate with either Haydn or Mozart. The Second Movement also sticks with the sonata form, and is very lilting in character. And then, there’s the Third Movement. Beethoven designates it as a Menuetto, but gives it a tempo marking of allegro molto et vivace. The Haydn Menuetto that was heard earlier in the program, is marked allegro molto. Beethoven’s addition of “et vivace” gives this away as a scherzo—and even though it isn’t called that by name, that’s exactly what it is. Can you imagine somebody deciding to dance to the “minuet” without having thoroughly looked at that tempo marking? Can you imagine how embarrassing that would have been?? And then, of course, the Fourth Movement begins with the entire orchestra playing a “G” (rather than the expected “C”), followed by the violins sounding like somebody forgot to put gas in the tank!! Once we’re past that unexpected little Introduction, it’s a straightforward sonata-form romp to the finish line!! by Michelle Pellay-Walker