“Polonaise” from Eugene Onegin – Piotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky Born May 7, 1840, in Votkinsk, Russia Died November 6, 1893, in St

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“Polonaise” from Eugene Onegin – Piotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky Born May 7, 1840, in Votkinsk, Russia Died November 6, 1893, in St. Petersburg

On May 18, 1877, Piotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky wrote to his brother,

“Last week I went one evening to see [the soprano Yelizaveta Andreyevna] Lavrovskaia. The conversation came round to operatic subjects . . . she suddenly said: ‘What about using Eugene Onegin?’ The idea seemed wild to me and I did not say anything but later, while eating alone in a pub I remembered about Onegin and started thinking. I thought the idea of Lavroskaia possible, then became captivated and by the end of my meal I had decided. I ran at once to get Pushkin at the library . . . read the poem over again with rapture and passed a sleepless night, of which the result was a charming plot with words from Pushkin. In the morning I went off to [poet Konstantin Stepanovich] Shilovsky’s and now he is arranging the libretto for me at full speed . . .

“You cannot imagine how passionately keen I am about this plot. How glad I am to get rid of Ethiopian princesses, Pharaohs, poisonings and all that sort of pompous convention. Onegin is full of poetry. I know very well that there will be no scenic effects and little movement in this opera; but the lyrical quality, the humanity, and the simplicity of the story, and a text written by a genius, will compensate more than enough for these failings.”

All of these elements helped to ensure the opera’s success, but music by Tchaikovsky is the chief strength of the work. Pushkin’s poem was familiar to all Russians in much the same way that a blockbuster film is known by the majority of the public today. Although the opera is a series of vignettes with no attempt to maintain a narrative thread, audiences filled in the blanks on their own.

The story is quite complicated, as is often the case with Russian literature of the nineteenth century, but a simplified version is possible. Sisters Olga and Tatiana fall in love with two friends, Lensky and Onegin, but Tatiana will not pledge her love. Instead she writes a letter to Onegin explaining her infatuation. He responds that he does not share her feelings, causing her great anguish. She does not contact him again. Some time later, Lensky convinces Onegin to attend a party for Tatiana’s name-day. Onegin dances with Olga, making Lensky jealous. Lensky challenges his friend to a duel and is shot dead. Several years later, Onegin attends a ball at the home of Tatiana and her husband, a wealthy nobleman in St. Petersburg. Onegin falls in love with her. She receives a letter in which he explains his feelings. He makes an impromptu visit and she expresses her love for him, but decides to stay with her husband. He leaves in despair as the curtain falls.

The brilliant “Polonaise” on this program is from the opening of Act III, and serves as a dance at the party in St. Petersburg. In most productions it is treated as a short ballet and demonstrates the contrast between the rustic setting of the opera’s opening and the lavish opulence of the final act. The music begins with a trumpet call reminiscent of the Fifth Symphony, which would be composed a decade later. Within a dozen measures the texture becomes full and festive, complete with the swaggering dotted rhythms of the Polish national dance and the masterful orchestration of the greatest of the Russian romantic composers.

Clarinet Concerto in A Major, K. 622 – Wolfgang Amade Mozart Born January 27, 1756 in Salzburg, Austria Died December 5, 1791 in Vienna, Austria

Mozart fell ill on November 20, 1791, only to die two weeks later. One of his final projects was a clarinet concerto for Mozart’s friend Anton Stadler, who played a unique Bassett-clarinet with an extended lower range. It would be the composer’s final instrumental work. Mozart’s association with Stadler had been formed years earlier, and it was for him that the elegant Clarinet Quintet and many prominent solos in La clemenza di Tito had been composed. It is no surprise that the young composer with failing health wished to bestow upon one of his most tireless supporters a substantial work for the more formal setting of the concert hall.

Mozart’s Clarinet Concerto opens with a lengthy movement in sonata form. After an extended introduction, the soloist enters with the main theme. Throughout this movement, the clarinet weaves an intricate filigree of chromatic passages. The central adagio is one of Mozart’s most bittersweet movements, with many surges of emotion and moments of crystalline beauty. Mozart’s final rondo is a brilliant exploration of the clarinet’s technical abilities, with fiery runs and surprising melodic turns. Even in this lively music, there seems to be a tinge of sadness – especially in the minor-key section near the center of the movement. Still quite complicated for today’s finest soloists on modern eighteen-keyed clarinets, it is amazing to think that this timeless work was composed for an instrument with only five keys.

Symphony No. 4 in E-flat Major, WAB 104 – Anton Bruckner Born September 4, 1824, in Ansfelden, near Linz, Austria Died October 11, 1886, in Vienna, Austria

Anton Bruckner’s first formal studies were at age eleven and, after his father's death, became a chorister at St. Florian Monastery in Ansfelden (now part of Linz). He studied violin with Franz Gruber (the composer of the Christmas carol Silent Night) and organ with the chief organist at the monastery. After leaving St. Florian in 1840, Bruckner followed his father's lead and became a teacher. For the next sixteen years, Bruckner remained in the classroom, first in two farming communities, but finally returning to St. Florian to teach there.

He became a full-time organist in 1856 in Linz, which required him to serve as organist at two churches. It was during this time that he studied counterpoint with the renowned theorist Simon Sechter, who had also taught Franz Schubert for a mere two weeks before his death. Sechter insisted that Bruckner compose no original music during his studies and, because of his strictness, influenced the younger composer's mature style in a positive way. The lessons were done by correspondence and thousands of pages of exercises survive. In November of 1861, Bruckner took the professor's examination at the Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde in Vienna and passed the test with no problem.

Despite his overwhelming schedule in Vienna, Bruckner became even more active as a composer. The 1870s were occupied by his Symphonies Nos. 2-5, but they also were a time of grave disappointments. There were many scathing reviews from the influential music critic Eduard Hanslick, who had turned against Bruckner once he learned that the composer was a friend and admirer of Wagner.

Bruckner’s Fourth Symphony exists in seven different versions spanning fourteen years. However, the version most often performed today was assembled from both the 1878 and 1880 revisions.

The first movement begins with a tremolo in the strings, but a majestic theme emerges in the solo horn part. Before long, the full orchestra enters with a rhythm that is somewhat of a Bruckner signature—two duple notes followed by a triplet. A second theme is in sharp contrast with its gentle folk-like character. As the movement progresses, the two themes go through extensive development and reach a powerful final climax. The opening horn part returns at the end as a breathtaking fanfare.

Bruckner’s second movement, described by the composer as “a song,” is essentially a funeral march, but it is somewhat remote—as if heard from a distant location. During the recapitulation, the music loses its distance and is given a very elaborate presentation by the full orchestra.

The famous “Hunt” scherzo is magnificently brass-heavy from the opening horn calls through the climax to the blazing ending. A central trio is an Austrian ländler that lightens the mood significantly.

Many commentators mention the tentative beginning of the finale as it revisits the atmosphere of the previous movements. It is a grand and sprawling movement that takes the listener on a meaningful journey with many delightful detours. The usual symphonic impetus that drives a finale from its beginning directly to the end is missing here. Instead, the occasional side-trips only add to the power of the climax when it finally arrives. The movement ends with a reprise of the horn call from the opening of the symphony that grows into a final overwhelming passage.