A Performer’s Analysis of Leonard Bernstein’s Serenade Stefanos Melas Bachelor of Music, Master of Music

A thesis submitted for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy at The University of Queensland in 2019 School of Music

Abstract

Serenade (after Plato’s Symposium) for Solo Violin, String Orchestra, Harp and Percussion is a five-movement violin concerto composed in 1954 by legendary American composer and conductor Leonard Bernstein (1918-1990). It is approximately thirty minutes in length and inspired by Plato’s dialogue on love, the Symposium (c. 385-370 BC). The mixed reception of the Serenade has only been extended by its enigmatic character, compounded by a high degree of technical difficulty for both the violin soloist and orchestra. There has previously been no published research on the subject of the solo violin part. This thesis is comprised of a written exegesis and a video recorded performance with orchestra.

Having approached conceptual and practical issues concurrently, the primary research aim of this PhD in Music Performance was to develop and document an original interpretation of the Serenade that would contribute to a fuller understanding of the work and enhance its potential presence in contemporary performance culture. My research employed methods formulated from artistic research, autoethnography, and practice-led research. I explored historical, performance-related, and score-based topics that arose from my individual study in conjunction with data acquired from interviews, lessons, and a comparative examination of Bernstein’s holograph orchestral manuscript with the Boosey & Hawkes edition.

Since 2018 marked the centennial of Leonard Bernstein’s birth, the preparation of this thesis occurred during a distinctive period in his posthumous history. Renewed interest in Bernstein’s compositional output generated by the centenary increases the relevance of my research for violinists in the twenty-first century who are studying and performing the concerto. This thesis provides new insights into the Serenade derived from the construction of a musical interpretation that involved the absorption of multiple firsthand perspectives and collated score analysis. The exegesis provides the scholarly context and framework in which to situate the associated performance as a research outcome.

ii Declaration by Author

This thesis is composed of my original work, and contains no material previously published or written by another person except where due reference has been made in the text. I have clearly stated the contribution by others to jointly-authored works that I have included in my thesis.

I have clearly stated the contribution of others to my thesis as a whole, including statistical assistance, survey design, data analysis, significant technical procedures, professional editorial advice, and any other original research work used or reported in my thesis. The content of my thesis is the result of work I have carried out since the commencement of my research higher degree candidature and does not include a substantial part of work that has been submitted to qualify for the award of any other degree or diploma in any university or other tertiary institution. I have clearly stated which parts of my thesis, if any, have been submitted to qualify for another award.

I acknowledge that an electronic copy of my thesis must be lodged with the University Library and, subject to the policy and procedures of The University of Queensland, the thesis be made available for research and study in accordance with the Copyright Act 1968 unless a period of embargo has been approved by the Dean of the Graduate School.

I acknowledge that copyright of all material contained in my thesis resides with the copyright holder(s) of that material. Where appropriate I have obtained copyright permission from the copyright holder to reproduce material in this thesis.

iii Publications included in this thesis

No publications included.

Submitted manuscripts included in this thesis

No manuscripts submitted for publication.

Other publications during candidature

No other publications.

Contributions by others to the thesis

No contributions by others.

Statement of parts of the thesis submitted to qualify for the award of another degree

No works submitted towards another degree have been included in this thesis.

Research Involving Human or Animal Subjects

I was approved by The University of Queensland School of Music’s Ethical Review Panel to conduct research with human subjects in June 2016 (SOM-ETH16-06/SM). A copy of my ethics approval letter can be viewed in Appendix B.

iv Acknowledgements

I extend my gratitude to my advisors Dr. Liam Viney, Prof. Adam Chalabi, and Dr. Denis Collins. I offer my sincere appreciation to Jamie Bernstein, Glenn Dicterow, Gary Levinson, and Midori for participating in my research. Dr. Margaret Farrell was consulted on the preparation of the exegesis for submission. I wish to express my love to my parents, George and Elizabeth Melas, who were sources of great strength for me during my studies in Australia. This thesis is dedicated to my late grandfather, Frank D. Murphy, whose passion for music and outstanding character continually inspires me.

Financial Support

This research was supported by an Australian Government Research Training Program Scholarship and The University of Queensland Centennial Scholarship.

Keywords

Artistic Research, Leonard Bernstein, Music Performance, Practice-led Research, Violin

Australian and New Zealand Standard Research Classifications (ANZSRC)

ANZSRC code: 190407, Music Performance, 100%

Fields of Research (FoR) Classification

FoR code: 1904, Performing Arts and Creative Writing

v Table of Contents

Abstract ...... ii

Declaration by Author ...... iii

List of Examples & Tables...... x

List of Abbreviations Used in the Thesis...... xi

Introduction ...... 1

Chapter 1: Context Review ...... 4

1.1 Leonard Bernstein ...... 4

1.1.1 Training in Composition ...... 5

1.1.2 Compositional Influences ...... 5

1.1.3 Compositional Style ...... 6

1.1.4 Compositional Output ...... 7

1.1.5 Reception as a Composer ...... 8

1.1.6 Compositional Conflicts ...... 10

1.2 The Serenade ...... 11

1.2.1 Conception and Inspiration ...... 11

1.2.2 Content and Structure ...... 12

1.2.3 Compositional Style and Material ...... 13

1.2.4 Relationship with Plato’s Symposium ...... 14

1.2.5 Homosexuality ...... 15

1.2.6 Critical Reception...... 16

1.2.7 Role in the Standard Violin Repertoire ...... 17

1.2.8 Research on the Serenade ...... 18

1.3 Recordings ...... 18

1.3.1 Audio Recordings...... 18

1.3.2 Video Recordings ...... 20

1.3.3 Range of Interpretation ...... 21

vi 1.4 Concluding Remarks ...... 23

Chapter 2: Methodology ...... 24

2.1 Artistic Research ...... 25

2.2 Autoethnography ...... 26

2.3 Smith and Dean’s Iterative Cyclic Web ...... 26

2.4 Rink’s Performer’s Analysis Model ...... 27

2.5 Interviews ...... 29

2.5.1 Ethical Clearance and Participant Consent ...... 30

2.5.2 Location and Content ...... 31

2.5.3 Recordings and Transcripts ...... 31

2.5.4 Data Coding and Analysis ...... 32

2.6 Lessons ...... 32

2.6.1 Ethical Clearance and Participant Consent ...... 32

2.6.2 Location and Content ...... 33

2.6.3 Data Coding and Analysis ...... 33

2.7 Member Checking ...... 33

2.8 Practice Journal ...... 34

2.9 Score and Recordings Analyses ...... 35

2.10 Concluding Remarks ...... 35

Chapter 3: Interviews and Lessons ...... 37

3.1 Initial Exposure to the Serenade ...... 37

3.1.1 Glenn Dicterow ...... 37

3.1.2 Midori ...... 37

3.1.3 Gary Levinson ...... 38

3.2 Performing with Bernstein ...... 38

3.2.1 Glenn Dicterow ...... 38

3.2.2 Midori ...... 39

vii 3.2.3 Findings ...... 39

3.3 Isaac Stern ...... 40

3.3.1 Glenn Dicterow ...... 40

3.3.2 Midori ...... 41

3.3.3 Gary Levinson ...... 42

3.3.4 Findings ...... 42

3.4 Technical Challenges ...... 43

3.4.1 Glenn Dicterow ...... 43

3.4.2 Findings ...... 44

3.5 Style and Interpretation ...... 45

3.5.1 Jamie Bernstein ...... 45

3.5.2 Glenn Dicterow ...... 45

3.5.3 Midori ...... 46

3.5.4 Gary Levinson ...... 47

3.5.5 Findings ...... 48

3.6 The Symposium ...... 49

3.6.1 Jamie Bernstein ...... 49

3.6.2 Glenn Dicterow ...... 50

3.6.3 Midori ...... 50

3.6.4 Gary Levinson ...... 51

3.6.5 Findings ...... 51

3.7 Role in Current Performance Culture ...... 52

3.7.1 Jamie Bernstein ...... 52

3.7.2 Glenn Dicterow ...... 52

3.7.3 Midori ...... 53

3.7.4 Gary Levinson ...... 54

3.7.5 Findings ...... 56

viii 3.8 Concluding Remarks ...... 57

Chapter 4: Bernstein’s Manuscript vs. Boosey & Hawkes Edition ...... 60

4.1 Score Analysis ...... 60

4.1.1 Phaedrus: Pausanias ...... 61

4.1.2 Aristophanes ...... 66

4.1.3 Erixymathus ...... 72

4.1.4 Agathon ...... 75

4.1.5 Socrates: Alcibiades ...... 79

4.2 Concluding Remarks ...... 83

Conclusion ...... 86

Works Cited ...... 91

Appendix A: Scholarly Program Notes ...... 95

Appendix B: Permission to Conduct Research with Human Subjects ...... 100

Appendix C: Permission to Reproduce Smith and Dean’s Iterative Cyclic Web ...... 101

Appendix D: Permission to Reproduce Rink’s Performer’s Analysis Model ...... 103

Appendix E: Permission to Reproduce Examples from Bernstein’s Serenade ...... 104

ix List of Examples & Tables

Ex. 1. Socrates: Alcibiades, mm. 18-36 ...... 23 Ex. 2. Diagram of Smith and Dean’s iterative cyclic web ...... 27 Ex. 3. Diagram of Rink’s performer’s analysis model ...... 28 Ex. 4. Phaedrus: Pausanias, mm. 1-10 ...... 62 Ex. 5. Phaedrus: Pausanias, mm. 15-18 ...... 63 Ex. 6. Phaedrus: Pausanias, mm. 27-34 ...... 63 Ex. 7. Phaedrus: Pausanias, mm. 35-56 ...... 64 Ex. 8. Phaedrus: Pausanias, mm. 65-78 ...... 65 Ex. 9. Phaedrus: Pausanias, mm. 90-95 ...... 65 Ex. 10. Phaedrus: Pausanias, mm. 152-158...... 65 Ex. 11. Phaedrus: Pausanias, mm. 164-169...... 66 Ex. 12. Phaedrus: Pausanias, mm. 213-219...... 66 Ex. 13. Aristophanes, mm. 1-16 ...... 67 Ex. 14. Aristophanes, mm. 17-46 ...... 68 Ex. 15. Aristophanes, mm. 47-65 ...... 69 Ex. 16. Aristophanes, mm. 78-99 ...... 70 Ex. 17. Aristophanes, mm. 105-124 ...... 71 Ex. 18. Aristophanes, mm. 132-173 ...... 72 Ex. 19. Erixymathus, mm. 1-24 ...... 73 Ex. 20. Erixymathus, mm. 25-32 ...... 73 Ex. 21. Erixymathus, mm. 41-48 ...... 74 Ex. 22. Erixymathus, mm. 49-67 ...... 74 Ex. 23. Erixymathus, mm. 68-91 ...... 75 Ex. 24. Agathon, mm. 1-27 ...... 77 Ex. 25. Agathon, mm. 36-37 ...... 78 Ex. 26. Agathon, mm. 38-56 ...... 79 Ex. 27. Socrates: Alcibiades, mm. 18-25 ...... 79 Ex. 28. Socrates: Alcibiades, mm. 30-33 ...... 80 Ex. 29. Socrates: Alcibiades, mm. 37-49 ...... 81 Ex. 30. Socrates: Alcibiades, mm. 104-113 ...... 81 Ex. 31. Socrates: Alcibiades, mm. 118-151 ...... 82 Ex. 32. Socrates: Alcibiades, mm. 400-409 ...... 83 Table 1. Audio recordings of Bernstein’s Serenade from 1956-2018 ...... 19 Table 2. Video recordings of Bernstein’s Serenade from 1956-2018 ...... 21

x List of Abbreviations Used in the Thesis

DSO Dallas Symphony Orchestra LSO London Symphony Orchestra NYU New York University SFCM San Francisco Conservatory of Music SFS San Francisco Symphony USC University of Southern California UQ The University of Queensland

xi Introduction

My decision to undertake research into Leonard Bernstein’s Serenade (after Plato’s Symposium) for Solo Violin, String Orchestra, Harp and Percussion was the result of my unique personal ties to the work which arose over the course of more than a decade. I was born in Atlanta, Georgia to a Greek father and an American mother. Having relatives on both sides of my family with various interests in classical music, I was inspired to begin studying the violin at age five. Several years later, my family relocated to Dallas, Texas. During my freshman year of high school, I began studying with Gary Levinson, Principal Associate Concertmaster of the Dallas Symphony Orchestra (DSO). Through my studies with Levinson, my relationship with the Serenade began approximately eleven years prior to commencing the research for this PhD in Music Performance.

In 2004, I attended a concert where Levinson performed the Serenade as soloist with the DSO. Levinson had the opportunity to play the Serenade for Bernstein in 1987 during his tenure with the New York Philharmonic. I remember him sharing with me his fascinating memories of working on the concerto with Bernstein. This was my introduction to both Bernstein and the Serenade. The following year, my family returned to Atlanta. I began studying under Sonja Foster, a highly regarded teacher of pre-college violinists in the Southeast. Her late brother Lawrence Foster was a gifted cellist and appeared on a CBS television broadcast of Bernstein’s Young People’s Concerts series with the New York Philharmonic in 1968.

During my undergraduate degree at Roosevelt University’s Chicago College of Performing Arts, I studied the Feldenkrais Method with Deborah Darr, who originated the role of Paquette in Bernstein’s Candide on Broadway in 1974. As a graduate student at New York University (NYU), I was often reminded of the indelible mark Bernstein left on the musical culture of New York City. The intersection of Broadway, Columbus Avenue, and West 65th Street is dedicated as Honorary Leonard Bernstein Place. I took notice of this whenever I was at Lincoln Center and was reminded of Bernstein’s legacy and contribution to the performing arts. I later completed postgraduate studies at the San Francisco Conservatory of Music (SFCM) under Alexander Barantschik, Concertmaster of the San Francisco Symphony (SFS). Barantschik previously served as Concertmaster of the London Symphony Orchestra (LSO). He performed and recorded with the LSO under Bernstein on numerous occasions.

Bernstein wrote the Serenade for legendary violinist Isaac Stern, who was an alumnus of SFCM. Stern studied at SFCM with Naoum Blinder, who served as Concertmaster of the SFS at the time. In

1 1954, Stern gave the world premiere of the Serenade in Venice with the Israel Philharmonic under Bernstein. Two years later, he made the first recording of the work for Columbia Records with Bernstein and the Symphony of the Air. Stern also edited and fingered the solo violin part published by Boosey & Hawkes, which remains the only available edition of the concerto.

Towards the completion of my studies in San Francisco, I decided to pursue a doctoral degree in music performance. I was advised to apply to The University of Queensland (UQ) by one of my former professors at NYU. Shortly before my graduation from SFCM, I attended a concert where Michael Tilson Thomas conducted pianist Jean-Yves Thibaudet and the SFS in a performance of Bernstein’s Symphony No. 2 The Age of Anxiety. This experience sparked a renewed interest in me for Bernstein’s music. While contemplating what subject I would designate as my research focus, I came across a familiar recording of Hilary Hahn performing the Serenade with the Baltimore Symphony Orchestra under David Zinman. I was immediately reminded of the concerto’s vast complexities and Bernstein’s distinctive compositional personality.

Bernstein’s role as one of the most influential American musicians of the 20th Century and the Serenade’s connection with Plato’s Symposium evoked within me a deep sense of personal identification with my Greek American heritage. As a graduate of SFCM, Stern’s central role in the Serenade’s history also led me to feel closely linked to the work. Having studied under violinists who worked extensively with Bernstein, I found yet another layer of connectivity that caused me to become interested in learning more about the concerto. This combination of diverse elements prompted me to select the Serenade as my topic of research. I moved to Brisbane, Australia in September 2015 to begin my PhD candidature. It is significant to note that Bernstein performed with the New York Philharmonic at Brisbane City Hall on August 21, 1974 as part of the Philharmonic’s first tour of Australia and New Zealand. The concerts included on this tour were Bernstein’s sole performances in Australia.

Early in my research, I determined that I would seek new insights into the Serenade from individuals with close personal and professional affiliations with Bernstein. I proceeded to choose three distinguished American violinists (Glenn Dicterow, Gary Levinson, and Midori) to interview and take lessons with in addition to Bernstein’s eldest daughter (Jamie Bernstein). I carried out field research applicable to the interviews and lessons in Dallas, Los Angeles, and Sydney. I also compared the Boosey & Hawkes edition of the Serenade with Bernstein’s holograph orchestral manuscript at the Library of Congress in Washington D.C. in order to determine the composer’s original intentions prior to his editorial collaboration with Stern.

2 The overarching purpose of this research was to inform my interpretation of the Serenade in a manner that would strengthen my final performance output and deepen my general comprehension of the work. My investigation into issues of technical execution and interpretation within the solo violin part arrived at findings derived from methods of artistic research, autoethnography, and practice-led research. This data was filtered into my interpretation through Rink’s performer’s analysis model as reflected in my performance of the concerto with The University of Queensland Symphony Orchestra at the Queensland Performing Arts Centre in October 2018. This thesis aims to contribute to the performance practices and culture associated with the Serenade and to appeal to those seeking further understanding of the work and its current position in the violin repertoire.

In Chapter One, I conduct a review of contextual literature surrounding the Serenade as it relates to this thesis. Chapter Two details the methodological frameworks and processes that guided my research. Chapter Three chronicles the knowledge shared with me by my research participants on key historical, interpretive, and technical matters pertaining to the concerto. Chapter Four identifies differences between Bernstein’s holograph orchestral manuscript and the Boosey & Hawkes edition, and makes recommendations for which aspects of each score best aid in mastering its interpretive and technical challenges. I conclude by detailing how my research findings influenced and shaped my overall perspective on the Serenade as well as their impact on my resulting performance of the work with The University of Queensland Symphony Orchestra.

3 Chapter 1: Context Review

This chapter contextualizes the research presented in this thesis. Literature discussed includes audio and video recordings, doctoral theses, newspaper articles, program notes, Plato’s Symposium, and a variety of books about Bernstein. His life and compositions are examined in addition to major historical and performance-related topics pertinent to the Serenade. This chapter facilitates the reader in acquiring the necessary contextual information needed to sufficiently comprehend the history of the composer and the concerto. It also details the factors that have influenced and determined its current standing in the violin repertoire.

The data acquired through this literature provides the reader with an understanding of how Bernstein’s personal and professional lives directly correlated with his writing of the Serenade as well as the circumstances of its varied reception from critics and audiences. It additionally identifies the absence of performance-based issues involving the Serenade that had not been previously studied prior to my research. The relationship between Plato’s Symposium and the Serenade is also explored, which has remained a point of significant debate among scholars. A discussion of recordings and stylistic performance practices is detailed in order to situate the concerto’s central interpretive problem regarding neoclassical and neoromantic interpretations.

The historical and musical contextual material contained in this chapter provides the foundation for the preparation of the interviews and lessons with my research participants in addition to my comparative analysis of Bernstein’s holograph orchestral manuscript with the Boosey & Hawkes edition. The complexities associated with the interconnected relationship between Bernstein’s conducting career, compositional output, and sexual orientation defined much of how the Serenade came to fruition. The knowledge obtained from the literature on Bernstein and the Serenade correlates with my interpretive and technical choices made during my study of the work and performance with The University of Queensland Symphony Orchestra, as later examined in the subsequent chapters of this exegesis. The contextual information contained in this chapter will facilitate the reader in acquiring the relevant knowledge needed to situate and interpret my research.

1.1 Leonard Bernstein Born in Lawrence, Massachusetts in 1918, Leonard Bernstein was a world-renowned author, composer, conductor, humanitarian, music educator, and pianist (Myers 225). He was the first American educated entirely in the United States to achieve international prominence in classical music (Gottlieb 328). During his lifetime, Bernstein was a particularly influential classical musician

4 in the United States (Robinson 46). Bernstein is one of the most recorded conductors in history, having amassed an extensive discography of over five hundred recordings (Robinson 102). He championed the works of Ives, Mahler, Nielson, Shostakovich, and Sibelius, bringing them to the forefront of the modern orchestral repertoire (Horowitz 150).

A prolific educator, Bernstein’s critically acclaimed Omnibus and Young People’s Concerts television series introduced millions of children to classical music and inspired the careers of numerous professional musicians (Robinson 105). His immense success garnered him prestigious accolades, including ten Emmy Awards, twenty-three Grammy Awards, and two Tony Awards (“Accolades”). He received illustrious distinctions from multiple foreign governments, including Austria’s Commander’s Cross First Class, Finland’s Order of the Lion, France’s Legion of Honor, and Italy’s Grand Order of Merit (“Accolades”). Bernstein died of a heart attack in New York City in 1990 (Henahan, “Leonard Bernstein”). The Library of Congress houses the Leonard Bernstein Collection, an archive of his life and works (“Collection Leonard Bernstein”).

1.1.1 Training in Composition Bernstein received a Bachelor of Arts degree cum laude in Music from Harvard University in 1939 and a diploma in conducting from the Curtis Institute of Music in 1941 (“Overview”). He never took composition lessons at either institution (Shawn 50). Bernstein’s absence of formal compositional training likely contributed to many of the technical problems violinists face in the Serenade due to its atypical shifting patterns and challenging double stop figures. The work’s unusual technical language leaves me wondering if others who have performed the work can share further insights into what contributed to Bernstein’s writing in the solo violin part. This will be a key point to investigate through my interviews in order to resolve whether his lack of formal compositional training can provide an explanation for his unfamiliarity with writing for the violin, since mastering the concerto’s technical problems has been a major area that I have focused my practice sessions on. Since technical mastery plays a definitive role in successfully performing a musical work, I will place a priority on identifying these issues in the Serenade within the context of crafting my interpretation.

1.1.2 Compositional Influences Bernstein was interested in an array of musical styles and genres, such as jazz and popular music (Robinson 19). Jazz is notable in almost every Bernstein score, whether in melody, orchestration, or rhythm (Robinson 24). Berg, Copland, Gershwin, Ives, Hindemith, Mahler, Shostakovich, Richard Strauss, and Stravinsky are composers who inspired Bernstein’s writing (Gottlieb 330; Peyser 48;

5 Gradenwitz 12). He often borrowed material from other composers, including Bartók, Bloch, Copland, Hindemith, Milhaud, and Stravinsky (Shawn 56). Bernstein was fascinated by Mahler, whom he closely identified with and sought to emulate (Shawn 202). His Jewish faith played a central role in his life and provided the impetus for compositions such as Dybbuk (1974), Hashkiveinu (1945), and Symphony No. 3 Kaddish (1963/1977) (Gottlieb 10).

Bernstein enjoyed studying literature and philosophy, subjects in which he excelled at Harvard (H. Burton 35). He was very active in political and social causes. This sparked some of his compositions, including West Side Story (1957) and 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue (1976) (Seldes 3). Bernstein was a long-term resident of New York City and used it as the setting for several of his musicals, including On the Town (1944), West Side Story (1957), and Wonderful Town (1953) (H. Burton 488). On his multitude of musical influences, Bernstein commented:

In the case of my own music, I would have to say that it has its roots everywhere. In jazz, in Hebrew liturgical music, in Bach and Beethoven and Schumann and Chopin and Mahler and the rest. In the musicians of my own country like Copland and Harris and Schuman. It also has roots in Schoenberg and in the various movements that have revolutionized music in our century. (Peyser 307)

The array of Bernstein’s compositional influences is evident in the Serenade through his incorporation of neoclassical, neoromantic, and jazz stylistic attributes. Bernstein’s interest in differing musical genres stemming from his diverse influences can be readily identified in the Serenade’s unique character. This has continued to play a defining role in the work’s conflicting reception from audiences and critics. The Serenade is a prime example of Bernstein’s multitude of musical influences, which presents me with the challenge of making a vast array of interpretive decisions that will reflect Bernstein’s unique compositional voice. Identifying how these influences appear throughout the five movements of the Serenade will be the first step in formulating my interpretive decisions in the concerto. I will document which styles correspond to each movement of the Serenade and discuss how I can effectively apply them to my interpretation derived from the interviews and lessons with my research participants.

1.1.3 Compositional Style Gradenwitz describes Bernstein’s compositional style as the “juxtaposition and coalition of alternating diatonic and chromatic melodies, of sharply dissonant and romantically harmonious sounds, of diversified complex and metrically scanning rhythms” (144). Bernstein was able to

6 combine diverse styles and genres into a new form of American music (Robinson 19). Copland described Bernstein as being equally comfortable in the realms of jazz and serious music, possessing an ease previously unseen in other composers (Robinson 34). One of Bernstein’s greatest strengths was his ability to pivot between varying musical styles in his compositions (J. Adams 196). Bernstein freely admitted to including a level of theatricality in his works, having stated that every piece he composed was essentially music for the theater (Myers 71).

Issues of style comprise the most substantial interpretive discourse on the solo violin part of the Serenade. Bernstein’s inclusion of neoclassicism, neoromanticism, and jazz has generated uncertainty among violinists and audiences as to whether the Serenade can be identified as belonging to one genre exclusively. Many violinists’ interpretations largely adhere to a single style, which forms the basis of the Serenade’s core performance practice problem. During my initial study of the concerto, I have encountered the Serenade’s combination of differing musical styles. This has led me to formulate a preliminary view that the concerto will benefit from bringing forth elements of each style in my interpretation. I will seek further clarification on issues of style and interpretation with my research participants in the interviews and lessons. This will additionally serve as a major point of consideration when I carry out my comparison of the composer’s manuscript with the Boosey & Hawkes edition at the Library of Congress.

1.1.4 Compositional Output Bernstein’s compositional output spans a wide-range of forms, styles, and instrumentations. It includes three ballets, two film scores, four musicals, two operas, and three symphonies (“Works”). The Serenade is the only concerto Bernstein composed for the violin (“Works”). Two of his earliest compositions are chamber music pieces that feature the violin: Piano Trio (1937) and Violin Sonata (1939) (“Works”). Bernstein is best known for composing the score to the hit Broadway musical West Side Story (1957) (J. Adams 204). The soundtrack to the 1961 film version of West Side Story remains the most successful album in the history of the Billboard 200 chart, having spent fifty-four weeks at number one (“Billboard Chart Record-Breakers”).

West Side Story’s soundtrack received the 1962 Grammy for Best Sound Track Album (“4th Annual GRAMMY Awards”). Bernstein also composed the score for the 1954 film On the Waterfront, which won the 1955 Academy Award for Best Motion Picture (“The 27th Academy Awards”). His early musicals On the Town (1944) and Wonderful Town (1953) were also well- received on Broadway and brought him widespread acclaim (“Works”). Bernstein refrained from

7 composing musicals after West Side Story with the exception of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue (1976), which experienced a brief and unsuccessful run on Broadway (“Works”).

Bernstein’s three symphonies – Jeremiah (1942), The Age of Anxiety (1949/1965), and Kaddish (1963/1977) are among his most popular symphonic compositions (“Works”). Symphonic Dances from West Side Story (1961) and the Overture to Candide (1956) are regularly performed and have become a part of the standard orchestral repertoire (“Works”). His other notable compositions include the operetta Candide (1956/1989), the choral work Chichester Psalms (1965), the ballet Fancy Free (1944), the large-scale theatre piece Mass (1971), and the operas Trouble in Tahiti (1951) and A Quiet Place (1952) (“Works”). Bernstein only composed four works for solo instrument and ensemble. One of his first ventures into this genre was Prelude, Fugue, and Riffs (1949), a triptych for solo clarinet and jazz ensemble (“Works”).

Bernstein wrote Symphony No. 2 The Age of Anxiety for solo piano and orchestra after being inspired by W.H. Auden’s long poem The Age of Anxiety (1947) (“Works”). Similar to the Serenade, Symphony No. 2 is not titled as a concerto and is based on a philosophical literary work. Bernstein did not write another piece for solo instrument and ensemble until Halil: Nocturne (1981), a concerto-like work for flute, percussion, and orchestra (“Works”). Jubilee Games (1986) was later expanded, revised, and renamed Concerto for Orchestra in 1989 (Henahan, “Review”). It is the only piece Bernstein composed that contains the word ‘concerto’ in its title, despite not being a work for solo instrument and ensemble. The Serenade’s literary thematic basis and inclusion of jazz is well situated within the range of Bernstein’s compositional output. His impressively varied oeuvre has defined his reputation as a composer in both positive and negative respects.

When I first began studying the Serenade, I was unsure as to why I had rarely encountered violinists who had studied and performed the concerto. My early research has suggested to me that the diversity of Bernstein’s compositional output hindered his ability to have the Serenade taken seriously by many critics and audiences. Discussing this issue with my research participants in the interviews and lessons will help me to decide whether I feel that emphasizing the Serenade’s jazz attributes should play a large part in the formation of my interpretation, or if a more neoclassical approach would better serve the work. More specifically, I will discuss with my research participants the degree to which my interpretation should incorporate neoclassical, neoromantic, and jazz elements in order to perform the concerto in a manner that appropriately reflects its multifaceted musical character.

8 1.1.5 Reception as a Composer Bernstein’s classical compositions have generally received less recognition than his works for musical theater (McDonald 6). The enormous international success of the film adaptation of West Side Story, which won the 1962 Academy Award for Best Motion Picture, led Bernstein to be primarily viewed as a Broadway composer (“The 34th Academy Awards”; Shawn 154). He composed in a lyrical style that critics perceived to be more aligned with composers of the Romantic period (Secrest 305). This resulted in his compositions being widely panned since atonality was fashionable at the time (Secrest 305). Virgil Thomson was notably dismissive of Bernstein’s abilities, writing: “‘Bernstein … does not compose with either originality or much skill. His pieces lack contrapuntal coherence, melodic distinction, contrapuntal progress, harmonic logic, and concentration of thought’” (Teachout).

One of Bernstein’s fiercest detractors was Harold Schonberg, who served as chief music critic of The New York Times during the composer’s tenure with the New York Philharmonic (Peyser 271). According to William Burton, critics often argued that Bernstein “spread himself too thinly and characterized him as a musician who could never make up his mind whether his particular gifts were for Broadway or the concert hall, conducting or composing, or – something in which he excelled – as educator and purveyor of music to the masses” (xii). Artur Rodzinski suggested that Bernstein was unable to decide “‘whether he belongs to Broadway, Hollywood, or Carnegie Hall’” (Peyser 161). Shawn speculates that Bernstein might have received greater acclaim as a composer if he not been involved in so many differing artistic pursuits (259).

Perceptions of Bernstein as a Hollywood and musical theatre composer have remained prevalent despite not being as widespread as when he was alive. Having discovered the importance of these factors when investigating why the Serenade is not yet a part of the standard violin repertoire, I will focus my interviews partially on how Bernstein’s reception as a composer has affected the concerto’s popularity. The Serenade is among the pieces Bernstein wrote for the concert hall that have been neglected due to how his works were received during his lifetime. I will explore whether Bernstein’s status as a revered conductor of classical music has impacted his reputation as a composer since it has appeared to have not helped enhance the reception of the Serenade. I will consider the implications of this with my research participants in an effort to make interpretive choices that will highlight the Serenade’s jazz elements without taking away from its ability to be viewed as a serious work.

9 1.1.6 Compositional Conflicts William Burton writes that Bernstein’s desire to be regarded as a serious composer of classical music plagued him to the extent that he was obsessed with composing a symphonic or operatic masterpiece that would ensure his immortality (xxviii). Gottlieb suspects that the prodigious nature of Bernstein’s youth waned as his career progressed and that he became captive to his earlier output, which consequently suppressed his creativity and led him to intense periods of depression (14). Bernstein was frustrated by the movement away from tonality in the mid-twentieth century since his style was deeply rooted in it (Peyser 295). In addition, his international success as a conductor took away time and energy he needed to compose, especially once he became Music Director of the New York Philharmonic in 1958 (Bernstein and Haws 154).

Seldes suspects that Bernstein lost the optimistic spirit he possessed earlier in his life, which led him to stray from composing and more towards conducting (166). His fast-paced lifestyle also distracted him from composing, particularly in his later years. Humphrey Burton observes that Bernstein was “quite open about his excesses, whether related to smoking, drinking, or sexual promiscuity” (xiv). Bernstein described himself as torn “between composing and performing, and split again, in both activities, between concert hall, opera house, Broadway theater, and television studio” (H. Burton 250). He was at the height of his abilities when he wrote the Serenade, which was less than two years prior to the beginning of his appointment at the Philharmonic (Shawn 137). As Bernstein faced increasing scrutiny over his compositions as his conducting career flourished, many of his compositions such as the Serenade were subjected to withering criticism.

I have become increasingly curious during my initial research as to whether Bernstein’s personal conflicts related to his desire to be viewed as a composer of serious classical music led him to describe the Serenade as a neoclassical work in spite of its strong neoromantic and jazz stylistic attributes. Since several of my research participants studied the work with Bernstein on multiple occasions, I will seek to discover from their experiences whether he spoke with them about which style he believed the Serenade should adhere to. My interpretive decisions in the piece will be greatly impacted by learning whether Bernstein was comfortable with a performance that includes stylistic traits of neoromanticism and jazz. Since my research participants worked with Bernstein several decades after the Serenade was premiered, I will aim to find out if his interpretive conception of the work might have changed after he wrote the preface to the score, as this will guide many of my key interpretive decisions going forward.

10 1.2 The Serenade The Serenade is dedicated to Bernstein’s conducting mentor Serge Koussevitzky and his wife Natalie (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Piano Reduction)” 2). The work is the result of a commission he received from the Koussevitzky Music Foundation in 1951 for Isaac Stern (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Piano Reduction)” 1). The Serenade is thematically unique within Bernstein’s oeuvre, having been inspired by a rereading of Plato’s Symposium (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Piano Reduction)” 2). Bernstein often referred to the Serenade as his greatest compositional achievement (Robinson 34; Gradenwitz 169). According to Peyser, the Serenade is “among the most charming, honest, engaging scores he produced for the concert hall” (207).

1.2.1 Conception and Inspiration Bernstein revisited the Symposium on his honeymoon in 1951 (Myers 88). He was extensively well- read and knew a large quantity of poetry from memory (W. Burton 12). Bernstein’s affinity for Greek philosophy can be traced to his undergraduate studies at Harvard University, where his professor David Prall was a significant influence (Lehrman 17). Shawn speculates that Prall’s ability to draw connections between the arts and philosophy had a definitive impact on young Bernstein (33). Prall helped to stimulate Bernstein’s interest in the ancient Greeks, which he had begun developing as a student at the Boston Latin School (Shawn 34).

Bernstein did not start formally composing the Serenade until the summer of 1954 while vacationing with his family in Martha’s Vineyard, Massachusetts (Myers 88). McDonald credits the 1950s as Bernstein’s most productive compositional period (5). Bernstein rapidly composed the Serenade during this fruitful summer, while he also worked on Candide (Myers 88). Bernstein was fascinated by the concept of love when he composed the Serenade due to his recent marriage to Chilean actress Felicia Montealegre (McDonald 32). According to Humphrey Burton, Bernstein’s choice of the title Serenade instead of ‘concerto’ was “harking back to the earlier usage when serenades, literally ‘evening music,’ from the Italian sera, were love songs delivered beneath the balconies of fair ladies” (240).

Bernstein’s appreciation for ancient Greek culture has raised numerous questions in me when deciphering whether the Serenade was composed prior to his decision to relate the piece to the Symposium. The Serenade’s title remains one of the concerto’s most controversial characteristics. Bernstein was aware of this and said of his initial choice to name it Symposium: “‘I was dissuaded from that title because people said it sounded so academic. I now regret that. I wish I had retained the title so people would know what it is based on’” (“A Greek Riddle”). After recognizing the

11 negative impact that the concerto’s title has likely had on its reception, I will make this aspect of the piece a point of discussion that I will raise with my research participants. Since three of my participants are violinists who have performed the work for over three decades, I estimate that they might possess unique insights into how perceptions of the concerto’s title have contributed to the work’s exclusion from the standard violin repertoire.

1.2.2 Content and Structure The Symposium (c. 385-370 BC) is set in 416 BC at the home of the Athenian poet Agathon, who is hosting a drinking party in celebration of a prize he has recently been awarded at a dramatic festival (Plato vii). The seven party attendees are Agathon, Alcibiades, Aristophanes, Erixymathus, Pausanias, Phaedrus, and Socrates (Plato vii). Each man agrees to give a speech detailing their respective views on love, which leads to a spirited and passionate debate (Plato viii). While the characters in the Symposium are known historical figures, the events and dialogue are a product of Plato’s imagination (Plato vii). The Serenade is divided into five movements that depict the speakers from the Symposium:

I. Phaedrus: Pausanias (Lento; Allegro) II. Aristophanes (Allegretto) III. Erixymathus (Presto) IV. Agathon (Adagio) V. Socrates: Alcibiades (Molto tenuto; Allegro molto vivace)

In the preface to the score, Bernstein describes Phaedrus as opening the Symposium with a “lyrical oration in praise of Eros, the god of love,” and Pausanias as “describing the duality of lover and beloved” (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Piano Reduction)” 2). Aristophanes is a charming movement that is distinctly idiosyncratic. Bernstein identifies Aristophanes as the “bedtime story-teller, invoking the fairytale mythology of love” (2). Erixymathus is the shortest movement in the concerto and played at a brisk tempo. Bernstein describes Erixymathus as a physician who “speaks of bodily harmony as a scientific model of the workings of love-patterns” (2). Agathon is musically introspective and the work’s only slow movement. It is second in length after Socrates: Alcibiades. Bernstein credits Agathon as giving “the most moving speech of the dialogue” (2). He notes that Agathon “embraces all aspects of love’s powers, charms, and functions” (2).

Socrates: Alcibiades is a contrasting mixture of seriousness and jubilance. Bernstein writes that Socrates tells of his visit to see the priestess Diotima, who gives him a speech “on the demonology

12 of love” (2). He states that the movement’s somber introduction carries “greater weight than any of the preceding movements, and serves as a highly developed reprise of the middle section of the Agathon movement” (2). Bernstein mentions Alcibiades’ “famous interruption” with his “band of drunken revelers” occurring in the middle of Socrates’ speech (2). He comments that this jazz-filled area of the movement “ushers in the Allegro, which is an extended Rondo ranging in spirit from agitation through jig-like dance music to joyful celebration” (2).

Gradenwitz observes that Bernstein’s “method of developing one variation out of a preceding one is also the musical foundation for his Serenade, in which each of the five movements originates from elements in a preceding part of the work” (166). Humphrey Burton believes that the Serenade can be “perceived as a portrait of Bernstein himself: grand and noble in the first movement, childlike in the second, boisterous and playful in the third, serenely calm and tender in the fourth, a doom-laden prophet and then a jazzy iconoclast in the finale” (240). Bernstein’s preface to the score is relatively detailed in how he relates the movements to the philosophers in the Symposium. However, he makes a point of informing the reader that he includes these descriptions “for the benefit of literary allusion” and that they act to serve as “guideposts” (2). This reiterates the composer’s position that the relationship between the two works is not programmatic.

Bernstein’s descriptions of the philosophers differ enough from their personas in the Symposium that my initial thoughts have been to take his statements made in the preface literally. However, the extent to which scholars have debated this aspect of the concerto has prompted me to seek the perspectives of my research participants as to how important this correlation is, since I am curious to discover whether Bernstein emphasized the connection between the two works in the coaching sessions and rehearsals they had with him. Forming my own conclusion on this issue will be central to the development of my interpretation, since it is vital for me to decide to what degree I will base my performance on from the events of the Symposium.

1.2.3 Compositional Style and Material In a letter to his wife on May 27, 1955, Bernstein describes the Serenade as “‘funny modern music’” (H. Burton 247). He composed the concerto in a neoclassical style by incorporating Classical forms such as fugue, rondo, and sonata-allegro in addition to the use of counterpoint (McDonald 4). McDonald references the sonata-allegro form in the Pausanias section of the first movement as an example of Bernstein’s usage of Classical forms (39). He observes that Bernstein’s various allusions to Classicism are also reflected in his selection of the Symposium as the concerto’s thematic basis (McDonald 39). Bernstein incorporates neoromanticism and jazz into the Serenade

13 as well, which causes it to refrain from being entirely neoclassical. Neoromanticism can be most readily discerned in the lyrical melodies of the Pausanias section of the first movement and the main theme of Agathon.

The Serenade’s relatively functional tonality and lyricism were the primary reasons critics dismissed it after its European premiere (Secrest 203). Jazz permeates the Pausanias section of the first movement and the Alcibiades section of the fifth movement. In the preface to the score, Bernstein remarks: “If there is a hint of jazz in the celebration, I hope it will not be taken as anachronistic Greek party-music, but rather the natural expression of a contemporary American composer imbued with the spirit of that timeless dinner-party” (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Piano Reduction)” 2). Bernstein includes significant melodic content from his Five Anniversaries (1952) in the Serenade (H. Burton 240). Written for solo piano, Five Anniversaries consists of five short pieces. Each anniversary honors the birthday of an important individual in Bernstein’s life at the time: Elizabeth Rudolf, Lukas Foss, Elizabeth B. Ehrman, Sandy Gellhorn, and Susanna Kyle (“Contents”).

The first four anniversaries are replicated almost in their entirety within sections of Phaedrus: Pausanias, Aristophanes, and Socrates: Alcibiades (Burton 240). The concerto’s jazz themes in the fifth movement are directly borrowed from Five Anniversaries. This has raised the question in me as to whether Bernstein composed the Serenade with the Symposium in mind, since much of the melodic content in the Serenade was not new to the concerto. While it is possible that Bernstein simply felt that the musical themes in Five Anniversaries were well-suited for the second half of Phaedrus: Pausanias and the party scene depicted in Socrates: Alcibiades, I will further explore this discrepancy in my research since I can see either situation as having been plausible. It is not unheard of for composers to borrow material from their earlier works, so I do not view this as definitive evidence that the Serenade was composed independently from the Symposium.

1.2.4 Relationship with Plato’s Symposium Bernstein wrote a description of the Serenade detailing the nature of its connection with Plato’s Symposium (L. Bernstein “Serenade (Piano Reduction)” 2). It was later published as the preface to the score. In the preface, Bernstein states:

There is no literal program for this Serenade, despite the fact that it resulted from a rereading of Plato’s charming dialogue, the Symposium. The music, like the dialogue, is a series of related statements in praise of love, and generally follows the Platonic form

14 through the succession of speakers at the banquet. The ‘relatedness’ of the movements does not depend on common thematic material, but rather on a system whereby each movement evolves out of elements in the preceding one. (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Piano Reduction)” 2)

Bernstein proceeds to make brief programmatic descriptions relating the characters and scenes in the Symposium to the movements of the Serenade. The correlation between the Serenade and the Symposium is among the work’s most widely debated topics. Although Bernstein’s preface to the score explains his views on this relationship, a lack of definitive consensus remains on the subject. In light of this discourse, some scholars believe that the Serenade can be appreciated without any knowledge of the Symposium (Gradenwitz 169; McDonald 19; Myers 89).

I will seek further clarification from my research participants after finding it challenging to arrive at a decisive conclusion during my preliminary research into Bernstein’s choice of the work’s thematic basis. Since the three violinists participating in my research worked extensively with Bernstein on the concerto, I feel that the composer would have likely placed an emphasis on the relationship between the Serenade and the Symposium during their coaching sessions if this correlation was of significant importance to him. Therefore, I have decided to form my final opinion after I have obtained further clarification during the interviews and lessons. The direction of my interpretation will be largely based on how literally I consider this relationship, so I will aim to explore this subject in detail with my research participants.

1.2.5 Homosexuality Bernstein’s interest in the Symposium was largely driven by its homosexual thematic content (Lehrman 30). The Symposium depicts the philosophers at the banquet debating the nuances of male romantic relationships. Bernstein married Felicia Montealegre in 1951 and found himself contemplating his sexual orientation shortly after while on their honeymoon (Lehrman 30). Bernstein was particularly concerned with concealing his homosexuality early in his career and sometimes communicated it in code in his compositions (Shawn 94). While Bernstein attempted to repress his sexual relationships with men in the 1950s due to his new marriage, Peyser notes that “the program to Serenade confirms that it was never far from his mind” (207). Concerning Bernstein’s decision to marry a woman, Shawn observes:

He longed to have a steady home life and dreamed of having his own family at least as far back as his days at Curtis. He needed to share his life with someone, and there is ample

15 evidence that he could not share his life with a man, at least not during that period of life. (111)

1.2.6 Critical Reception In a letter to Frankie and William Schuman on August 30, 1954, Bernstein writes: “I’ve finished my Serenade and it looks awfully pretty on paper, at least. The Italian critics will hate it; but I like it a lot” (L. Bernstein, “Letters” 320). In a subsequent letter on September 11, 1954, Bernstein tells his wife Felicia: “Isaac [Stern] plays the Serenade like an angel – and everyone adores it, [David] Diamond included. If it goes well tomorrow it should be a knockout” (L. Bernstein, “Letters” 321). The Serenade was premiered on September 12, 1954 at the Teatro La Fenice in Venice with Isaac Stern as soloist and Bernstein conducting the Israel Philharmonic (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Piano Reduction)” 1). The Serenade was not well-received by Italian critics due to their affinity for serialism and a suspicion of any work that contained jazz characteristics (Myers 89). Secrest suspects that the Serenade was “bound to be dismissed by Italian critics because it was not in the fashionable twelve-tone style but lush, melodic, and Romantic” (203).

Italian critics felt that allusions to the Symposium were superfluous and presumptive (Lehrman 11). American critics were skeptical of the work as well (Myers 89). Howard Taubman questioned if jazz music of any kind belonged in the concert hall (Myers 89). Alan Rich described the Serenade as “‘music of such drab, tawdry, derivative tenuosity as to leave a listener with the feeling of having spent time nibbling on dietetic cotton candy’” (Shawn 127). Virgil Thomson wrote that the work needed major cuts and was ultimately “‘a negligible contribution to music’” (H. Burton 240). Jay S. Harrison characterized the Serenade as “‘disturbing’” and “‘perplexing’” (Lehrman 7). The concerto received a few positive reviews, including one from a critic at the Chicago Daily News who described it as “‘wonderfully salubrious’” and “‘the kind of thing Haydn might have written if he had lived in New York City in the 1940s’” (H. Burton 258).

Since Bernstein and Stern continued to make changes to the score after the premiere, I am curious to discover through my analysis of the composer’s manuscript whether aspects of the first version performed in Venice might have contributed to its early negative reception. I also seek to determine whether the changes they eventually made together might have helped to address any initial criticisms made at the time of the premiere. This will serve as a primary area of investigation during my comparison of Bernstein’s orchestral manuscript with the Boosey & Hawkes edition at the Library of Congress.

16 1.2.7 Role in the Standard Violin Repertoire The Serenade currently remains outside of the standard violin repertoire. Despite Bernstein’s global fame, it has been held back by a variety of factors. Concerning the reasons for the concerto’s absence from the standard violin repertoire, Isaac Stern commented:

I never could quite understand why it did not become sort of a repertoire piece of violinists. It is, of course, difficult to play for the orchestra. The last movement, which is very Lenny, very Bernstein, is in a language that comes not easily on the tongue of most violinists – it is not easy on the players and on the audience. (Gradenwitz 275-276)

Bernstein’s difficulty in achieving acclaim as a composer beyond the Broadway idiom hindered the Serenade from receiving greater recognition (Shawn 154). David Diamond attended the first performance of the work in Italy. He later recalled Bernstein’s frustration with its poor reception:

I remember when he came for the premiere of the Serenade which Isaac [Stern] played in Venice. I went and I loved it … but even there he told me the Italians had torn him apart … He suffered because he knew he was a fine musician, and he never understood why his serious music was not accepted. (W. Burton 25)

The lengthy and uncommon title of the Serenade can prove off-putting for audiences. LaFave describes the concerto’s title as “clumsy” and “full” (84). Humphrey Burton speculates that the Serenade’s “cumbersome” subtitle (after Plato’s Symposium) might have done the work a disservice (239). He hypothesizes that audiences may likely view the Serenade’s subject matter as elitist and find themselves discouraged by the unfamiliar and complicated names of the Symposium’s philosophers (H. Burton 239).

Lasting stereotypes of Bernstein having not been a composer of serious classical music established the basis for why a large number of his works written for the concert hall such as the Serenade have not yet achieved places in the standard repertoire. I will seek to consult with my research participants as to which specific factors have hindered the Serenade from joining the standard violin repertoire, such as the piece’s irregular title and the ambiguity of its relationship with the Symposium. I will also aim to obtain their views on how the Serenade’s unusual technical language might deter violinists from learning the work, since Stern mentioned this as having contributed to its general unpopularity.

17 1.2.8 Research on the Serenade There are two Doctor of Musical Arts theses written on the Serenade. Neither thesis investigates issues of violin performance, which is the principal area of my research. The first thesis is Leonard Jordan Lehrman’s Leonard Bernstein’s Serenade after Plato’s “Symposium”: An Analysis. Lehrman states that the aim of his research is to “attempt to determine to what extent and in what ways Plato’s Symposium had influenced the composer, and how this was manifested in the music” (1). He explores themes including Bernstein’s compositional eclecticism, homosexuality, and the impact of Plato and jazz on the Serenade.

The second thesis is Anthony T. McDonald’s A Conductor’s Analysis of “Serenade for Solo Violin, String Orchestra, Harp and Percussion” by Leonard Bernstein. McDonald’s research entails his views on conducting the Serenade. He writes that the purpose of his research is to provide “the information necessary to approach the conducting of the Serenade” (McDonald 2). McDonald gives a detailed history of the work and subsequently discusses topics including the literary content of the Symposium and its relationship with the Serenade. He later shares his recommendations for how the concerto should be interpreted from a conductor’s vantage point.

McDonald also provides perspectives on how conductors can effectively negotiate the demands of the orchestral score. Both theses are useful for my research since they have familiarized me with which parts of the Serenade have already been previously studied. Lehrman’s research has aided me in further understanding how Bernstein’s compositional style relates to the Serenade and the role his homosexuality played in his selection of its thematic basis. McDonald’s insights into conducting have facilitated my awareness of the complexities of the orchestral score.

1.3 Recordings Audio recordings constitute the majority of performance-related literature existing on the Serenade. Twenty-three commercial audio recordings of the work are currently available in addition to three commercial video recordings. They collectively span a period of more than six decades and have been made with conductors, soloists, and orchestras from around the world for both independent and major record labels.

1.3.1 Audio Recordings Isaac Stern made the premiere recording of the Serenade in 1956 for Columbia Records with Bernstein and the Symphony of the Air. This is one of four recordings created under the direction of Bernstein. He later recorded the work with Glenn Dicterow, Zino Francescatti, and Gidon Kremer.

18 Bernstein made his final recording of the Serenade in 1986 at the Blossom Music Center in Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio while on tour with Glenn Dicterow and the New York Philharmonic (“Blossom Music Center”). However, the recording was not commercially released until 2014. Only one recording of the Serenade was made during Bernstein’s lifetime without him serving as conductor. EMI Classics released this album by Robert McDuffie and the St. Louis Symphony under Leonard Slatkin in 1989. It is the sole recording of the Serenade made in the 1980s. Only five recordings of the concerto were released while Bernstein was alive.

The 1990s saw the release of five new recordings by artists including Glenn Dicterow, Hilary Hahn, and Itzhak Perlman. At the time of this writing, there have been fourteen recordings made of the Serenade since the year 2000. The recordings include those made by Renaud Capuçon, Anne Sophie Mutter, Anne Akiko Meyers, and Philippe Quint. Bernstein is the conductor who has recorded the Serenade the greatest number of times (four recordings), followed by Leonard Slatkin and David Zinman (two recordings each). The London Symphony Orchestra and New York Philharmonic tie for the most recordings of the Serenade made by a single orchestra (three each). Glenn Dicterow is the only violinist with two audio recordings of the concerto (see Table 1).

Table 1 Audio recordings of Bernstein’s Serenade from 1956-2018 Violinist Conductor Orchestra Record Label Year Released Isaac Stern Leonard Bernstein Symphony of the Air Columbia Records 1956 Zino Francescatti Leonard Bernstein New York Columbia Records 1964 Philharmonic Gidon Kremer Leonard Bernstein Israel Philharmonic Deutsche 1979 Grammophon Robert McDuffie Leonard Slatkin St. Louis Symphony EMI Classics 1989

Rodrigue Milosi Jean-Louis Basset Orchestra de Caen Adda 1990

Hu Kun William English String Nimbus Records 1992 Broughton Orchestra Itzhak Perlman Seiji Ozawa Boston Symphony EMI Classics 1995 Orchestra Glenn Dicterow Leonard Slatkin New York New York 1999 Philharmonic Philharmonic Hilary Hahn David Zinman Baltimore Symphony Sony Classical 1999 Orchestra Joshua Bell David Zinman Philharmonia Sony Classical 2000 Orchestra

19 Anne Sophie André Previn London Symphony Deutsche 2003 Mutter Orchestra Grammophon Philippe Quint Marin Alsop Bournemouth Naxos Records 2005 Symphony Orchestra Regis Pasquier Edmon Colomer Orchestre de Picardie Calliope 2006 Brian Lewis Hugh Wolff London Symphony Delos Productions 2006 Orchestra Vadim Gluzman John Neschling São Paulo Symphony BIS Records 2009 Orchestra Jaap van Zweden Walter Proost Flemish Chamber Impogram 2013 Orchestra Glenn Dicterow Leonard Bernstein New York New York 2014 Philharmonic Philharmonic Anne Akiko Keith Lockhart London Symphony eOne Music 2015 Meyers Orchestra Renaud Capuçon Dennis Russell Bruckner Orchester Orange Mountain 2017 Davies Linz Music Liza Ferschtman Jiří Malát Prague Symphony Challenge Classics 2018 Orchestra Feng Ning David Stern China Philharmonic DR Classics 2018 Orchestra Baiba Skride Santtu-Matias Gothenburg Orfeo 2018 Rouvali Symphony Orchestra Sayaka Shoji Yutaka Sado Tonkünstler Tonkünstler 2018 Orchester Orchester

1.3.2 Video Recordings There are three commercially released video recordings of the Serenade currently available. The first is a live performance by Gidon Kremer and the London Philharmonic under Bernstein recorded in 1986 and now available on DVD. The second is a live performance by Dmitry Sitkovetsky and Ensemble Stuttgart with Wilhelm Keitel released on VHS in 1996. Kremer’s recording is the only complete video recording available of Bernstein conducting the Serenade. Various video recorded excerpts of Midori’s storied performance of the Serenade with the Boston Symphony Orchestra under Bernstein at the Tanglewood Music Festival in 1986 can be viewed online. However, the complete performance has not yet been released at the time of this writing.

Midori returned to Tanglewood in 2018 to perform the first movement of the Serenade with Christoph Eschenbach and the Boston Symphony Orchestra as part of The Bernstein Centennial Celebration at Tanglewood gala concert, which was filmed for PBS and later released on DVD. Additional video recordings of the Serenade can be accessed via video sharing websites, but they

20 have not been commercially released and will therefore not be discussed in this context review. The minimal number of video recordings of the Serenade stands in contrast with the relative abundance of audio recordings that are in circulation (see Table 2).

Table 2 Video recordings of Bernstein’s Serenade from 1956-2018 Violinist Conductor Orchestra Distributor Year Released Dmitry Sitkovetsky Wilhelm Keitel Ensemble Kultur International 1996 Stuttgart Gidon Kremer Leonard London Deutsche 2008 Bernstein Symphony Grammophon/Unitel Orchestra Classics Midori Christoph Boston C Major 2018 Eschenbach Symphony Entertainment Orchestra

1.3.3 Range of Interpretation The Serenade’s unconventional stylistic character makes it challenging to negotiate from an interpretive standpoint due to its unique fusion of neoclassicism, neoromanticism, and jazz. Recordings of the Serenade reflect a wide-range of interpretations involving both neoclassical and neoromantic characteristics. There exists a divide between violinists who perform the concerto with a neoromantic inclination and those who emphasize a neoclassical sensibility. These recordings serve as an excellent resource for violinists seeking to explore the work’s interpretive possibilities. My analysis of the following recordings reflects my personal interpretive responses drawn from the qualitative impressions I obtained through my listening sessions.

The benchmark recording of the Serenade is the premiere recording made by Isaac Stern with Bernstein and the Symphony of the Air in 1956. This recording set the standard for evaluating subsequent interpretations of the Serenade. Two more recent recordings of the Serenade are those by Hilary Hahn (1999) and Anne Sophie Mutter (2003). Hahn and Mutter’s differing interpretations demonstrate the contrasting styles violinists can employ in the piece. Hahn plays the Serenade with a transparence and musical refinement reminiscent of the manner violinists tend to use when performing music of the Classical period. Her interpretation serves to accentuate the work’s neoclassical qualities. Hahn’s vibrato is quick and comprised of oscillations that are not wide- ranging, which aligns with the commonly accepted performance practice of repertoire from the Classical period. This can also be discerned from her nimble bow work and clean, open sound.

21 In contrast to Hahn, Mutter uses a wide vibrato and diverse palette of sonorous tone colors, highlighting the concerto’s underlying neoromanticism. Her interpretation is dramatic and expressive, serving as a compelling example for how the Serenade can function as a virtuosic vehicle for violinists. Mutter lengthens the work’s lyrical themes and adds colorful tonal embellishments through her robust use of vibrato and energetic bow speeds. A wide vibrato consisting of slower oscillations can often be attributed to a Romantic style of playing. Her use of fast bow speeds and sustained contact with the string is far more aligned with a traditionally Romantic mode of violin performance.

I have selected mm. 18-36 from Socrates: Alcibiades in order to illustrate the divide existing between neoclassical and neoromantic interpretations of the Serenade (see Ex. 1). Stern’s recording was my primary point of reference when executing this analysis. During the opening phrase, he maintains a balance of drama and reserve. This is largely achieved through his assorted vibrato speeds. The width of Stern’s vibrato oscillations have a noticeable impact on the degree to which certain phrases sound neoclassical or neoromantic. He engages a moderate dynamic volume that progressively builds in volume (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Stern)” 1:20-2:30).

Hahn’s interpretation is closer to Stern’s than that of Mutter, but she is restrained to a higher degree than either violinist. Hahn’s vibrato speed is swift and uniform throughout. She plays the phrase in a refined and controlled fashion, perhaps the defining trait of her neoclassical approach (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Hahn)” 1:16-2:33). Mutter’s playing is neoromantic in virtually every respect. She maintains an expansive sound, particularly on the E string in high positions. Mutter accentuates the melodiousness of the phrase through her liberal use of expressive tone colors. This color palette is successfully executed by her adept bow technique via the implementation of variations of speed and pressure (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Mutter)” 1:43-2:44). Mutter’s neoromantic style in this passage extends well beyond any of the neoromantic elements contained in Stern’s interpretation. This particular selection from Socrates: Alcibiades is an example of the vast interpretative choices available to violinists in the Serenade.

Similar passages can be found throughout the concerto. They display the differing styles Bernstein juxtaposes in the work. While interpretative decisions are ultimately reserved for the individual violinist, an effort to include attributes of neoclassicism and neoromanticism is highly effective when a stylistically balanced interpretation is sought. Incorporating aspects of each style will result in a performance that exhibits the concerto’s multifaceted musical character. This will also enhance

22 its ability to receive a positive reception from listeners who might not find the work to be easily accessible (see Ex. 1).

Ex. 1. Socrates: Alcibiades, mm. 18-36 (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Solo Violin Part)” 11)

1.4 Concluding Remarks This context review reflects the wide-range of literature on the Serenade. Through this process, I have consulted a variety of sources in order to gain in-depth knowledge on Bernstein’s life and compositions. Publications of particular interest were books written by his family, friends, and colleagues. Their writings have aided me in situating the complex nature of the composer’s personal and professional lives and how these experiences affected his compositional output in relation to the Serenade. There has previously been no scholarly research on issues of violin performance in the concerto. This has raised numerous questions in me regarding historical, interpretive, and technical matters pertaining to the Serenade that I will seek to address through the interviews and lessons with my research participants. I have selected my research participants for their close personal and professional relationships with Bernstein. Dicterow, Levinson, and Midori had the opportunity to study the work with him in New York during the late 1980s. This has prompted me to address the Serenade’s major violin performance-related issues in the interviews and lessons in an effort to gain greater clarity into interpreting the concerto and why it has continued to remain outside of the standard violin repertoire.

23 Since my research will result in a performance of the Serenade with orchestra, I will seek to discuss with Dicterow, Levinson, and Midori the content of their coaching sessions and rehearsals with Bernstein, and whether he revealed to them his perspectives on how the concerto should be interpreted stylistically. I have observed the Serenade’s central performance practice problem of whether it should be interpreted through a neoclassical or neoromantic prism in addition to how much of an emphasis should be placed on accentuating its jazz characteristics. Discovering to what extent Bernstein gave interpretive freedom to my research participants will be central to my determination of how I will choose to manage the stylistic diversity of the piece within my own performance. The Serenade contains an array of technical challenges that must be navigated successfully in order to deliver an effective performance. Consulting with my research participants on the uncommon technical language Bernstein utilizes in the Serenade and how this has contributed to its general lack of popularity among violinists will be a principal topic of discussion in the interviews and lessons as well.

The relationship between the Serenade and the Symposium remains a widely debated aspect of the work. Some scholars believe that Bernstein named the movements of the concerto after the philosophers in the Symposium once the manuscript had already been completed. Others choose to accept Bernstein’s description of this connection in the preface to the score, where he explains that he was inspired to write the Serenade after a rereading of the Symposium but that it is not intended to be a programmatic representation of its literary events. My preliminary estimation has been to accept the composer’s explanation in the preface to the score that the Serenade is loosely based on the Symposium. In an effort to obtain further evidence on the extent of this connection, I will seek to find out from Dicterow, Levinson, and Midori whether Bernstein discussed with them how the Serenade and Symposium relate to each other and to what degree he placed an emphasis on how closely violinists should shape their interpretations after the dialogue.

The unanswered questions that I will seek clarification on from my research participants in the interviews and lessons will be central to the development of my interpretation, since major technical and interpretive issues I have encountered during my review of contextual literature surrounding the Serenade have remained unanswered within the current body of scholarly research on the work. Dicterow, Levinson, and Midori had the rare experiences of studying and performing the concerto with Bernstein. Apart from Gidon Kremer, they remain the only living violinists who have had the remarkable opportunity to work with the composer on the Serenade. Their unique firsthand perspectives will help me to address the concerto’s major interpretive and technical problems, which will ultimately inform my interpretation of the work in my final thesis performance.

24 Chapter 2: Methodology

My research was comprised of theoretical and practical inquiries within an artistic research paradigm. Central to my methodological processes were semi-structured interviews and lessons in conjunction with historical inquiry and practice-led reflective analysis. The circumstances of the preparation involved with the interviews and lessons is discussed in this chapter as well as the manner in which qualitative research techniques were employed to ensure that the ethical integrity of my data collection was maintained. The research methods that formed the basis for the content of the interviews, lessons, and score analysis are demonstrated through my implementation of autoethnographic analytical models. This multifaceted investigative approach shaped the way my research evolved over the course of this project. This chapter orients the reader in the methodology I utilized in my research activities in order to establish the systematic mechanisms involved in my data collection, coding, and analysis procedures.

2.1 Artistic Research Artistic research is a developing field that has earned increasing recognition in recent years. It is comprised of research outputs produced by creative practitioners in the performing and visual arts. Cook notes that there is a “small, and … in general theoretically unacknowledged, body of analytical writings that directly address performance concerns” (43). Doğantan-Dack observes that traditional musicological analysis often excludes performers from the production of new knowledge (263). Haseman and Mafe suggest that artistic research can face difficulties in receiving widespread acceptance in academic circles since traditional research features protocols and conventions that are frequently incompatible with artistic practice (211). Defining artistic research has been a challenge for scholars. This is partially due to a lack of consensus within the field as to what the discipline encompasses (Cook 46; Mercer et al. 11).

Smith and Dean explain that the terms used to define artistic research ultimately pertain to the manner in which creative practice can result in research outputs (2). Researchers derive these outputs by utilizing a combination of artistic and academic research techniques. Concerning the similarities between artistic research and more traditional areas of academic scholarship, Ginsborg observes that artistic researchers use a theoretical framework that involves “rigorous and systematic data-gathering, analysis, and interpretation of findings” (81). Mercer, Robson, and Fenton find that artistic researchers should not feel constrained to conventional modes of research (8). The authors encourage artistic researchers to seek new ways to conduct their research while respecting established qualitative methods (Mercer et al. 8).

25 It is important to emphasize that not all performances qualify as artistic research. Smith and Dean stipulate that in order for a creative work to be considered as research, “it needs to contain knowledge which is new and that can be transferred to other contexts” (7). According to Ginsborg, a written exegesis is needed to allow the artistic researcher’s underlying analytical procedures to be documented in a way that performing alone cannot articulate (80). Addressing the possibility that providing written documentation might hinder a performer’s creativity, Smith and Dean cite “numerous examples of influential creative pioneers who laid out their ideas, strategies, and critical positions through essays or manifestos” (25).

2.2 Autoethnography Adams, Holman Jones, and Ellis describe autoethnography as a research technique that harnesses the personal experiences of the researcher to detail and critique their practices through a process of self-reflection (T. Adams et al. 1-2). The authors propose that autoethnography “balances intellectual and methodological rigor, emotion, and creativity” (T. Adams et al. 2). Adams et al. argue that traditional research practices do not adequately address the needs of artistic researchers (9). Stressing the need for autoethnography in certain research settings, Adams et al. assert: “We cannot relegate elements of human lives and experiences to the periphery, nor can we bracket out the ways our lives and experiences are intertwined with our research projects and participants” (9).

Reflexivity is an essential part of the autoethnographic process since it is necessary for the researcher to continually examine their personal assumptions and biases against objective and external measures. Within my research, this was facilitated through the act of coding the data I acquired from interviews, lessons, and the practice journal I maintained. The journal entries reflecting on this data were indispensable in determining how my findings influenced my interpretation as well as the identification of any shortcomings associated with my analysis. Since a musical interpretation is achieved through a complex series of decisions situated within one’s individual perspective, autoethnography is useful when articulating the highly personalized nature of music performance.

2.3 Smith and Dean’s Iterative Cyclic Web My research methodology was underpinned by the conceptual model of Smith and Dean’s iterative cyclic web, which articulates how academic and artistic research relate. Smith and Dean use the terms practice-led and research-led when describing artistic research. The authors explain that these terms “are a means to characterize the way in which practice can result in research insights, such as those that arise out of making a creative work and/or in the documentation and theorization of that

26 work” (Smith and Dean 2). Smith and Dean propose that academic and artistic research are interconnected via an iterative cyclic web (2). They write that the iterative cyclic web “combines the cycle (alternations between practice and research), the web (numerous points of entry, exit, cross-referencing and cross-transit within the practice-research cycle), and iteration (many sub- cycles in which creative practice or research processes are repeated with variation)” (Smith and Dean 8) (see Ex. 2).

Ex. 2. Diagram of Smith and Dean’s iterative cyclic web (Smith and Dean 20)

My research can be explained by Smith and Dean’s iterative cyclic web through the ways my artistic and academic research activities intersected during my study of the Serenade. The varying components of my artistic and academic research worked concurrently and in mutuality in order for me to complete my research within a scholarly framework. My process of data collection and coding is an example of how my research simultaneously served academic and artistic functions. The relationship between developing my research findings and their application to my playing was reflexive. The iterative cyclic web exhibits the nuances of this interaction when conveying how my artistic and academic research activities connected, resulting in a research-informed artistic outcome (my performance of the Serenade with the UQ Symphony Orchestra) (see Ex. 2).

2.4 Rink’s Performer’s Analysis Model While Smith and Dean’s iterative cyclic web explains how artistic research operates, Rink’s performer’s analysis model provides a way of understanding the method of analysis a performer engages in when forming an interpretation. Rink makes a distinction between the methodology a

27 performer utilizes and traditional score-based analysis, describing the former as an “analytical mode which allows performers to be performers rather than mere agents of the theorist” (“The State of Play” 40-41). Rink observes that a performer’s interpretation involves many carefully considered systematic analytical decisions (Musical Performance 35) (see Ex. 3).

Ex. 3. Diagram of Rink’s performer’s analysis model (Rink, “The State of Play” 48)

Most notable are the inclusion of structure as shape (i.e. something that occurs as a process in time) and physicality, areas of knowledge not included in traditional musicological analysis. Rink proposes that these varying factors “feed into an interpretation when filtered through a kind of ‘prism’ defined by the performer’s artistic prerogatives” (“The State of Play” 47). The performer’s analysis I employed drew on historical, practical, and score-based material. Data that arose from my individual practice in combination with the interviews and lessons conducted with my research participants was analyzed and filtered through the performer’s analysis model into my interpretation of the Serenade.

I discussed the performer’s analysis model with Rink during his visit to The University of Queensland in August 2016. Rink communicated to me the freedom performers have in filtering other elements into their interpretation beyond the examples he includes in the performer’s analysis model. He stressed that a musician’s interpretive perspective is informed by a multitude of factors that feed into their performance output. My culminating performance of the Serenade in October 2018 with The University of Queensland Symphony Orchestra was shaped and informed by the breadth of my research methods, as articulated in the performer’s analysis model. This led me to categorize the overall scope of this project as a performer’s analysis.

28 2.5 Interviews I conducted the interviews related to this thesis using the interviewing techniques of Kvale and Brinkmann. Kvale and Brinkmann describe interviewing as “an active process where interviewer and interviewee through their relationship produce knowledge” (17). The authors explain that interviewing “rests on the practical skills and the personal judgments of the interviewer; it does not follow explicit steps of rule-governed methods” (Kvale and Brinkmann 17). Kvale and Brinkmann detail their seven stages of research interviewing method as: “(1) thematizing an interview project, (2) designing, (3) interviewing, (4) transcribing, (5) analyzing, (6) verifying, and (7) reporting” (19- 20). On the topic of leading questions, the authors state that qualitative research interviews are “particularly well suited for employing leading questions to repeatedly check the reliability of the interviewee’s answers, as well as to verify the interviewer’s interpretations” (172).

I selected Jamie Bernstein, Glenn Dicterow, Gary Levinson, and Midori as my research participants. Participants were chosen for their personal and professional relationships with Bernstein and the Serenade. Jamie Bernstein is the eldest daughter of Bernstein and continues to maintain an active role in promoting his legacy throughout the world (“Jamie Bernstein”). While Jamie Bernstein was only a child when the Serenade was written, she is well-versed in the history of her father’s works and regularly gives interviews and lectures pertaining to them.

Glenn Dicterow is a highly respected orchestral violinist, having served as Concertmaster of the New York Philharmonic from 1980-2014 (“Short Biography”). He performed under Bernstein on many occasions throughout his tenure with the Philharmonic and had the opportunity to perform the Serenade with the composer on a tour of the United States in 1986 (“Short Biography”). Dicterow currently holds the Robert Mann Chair in Strings and Chamber Music at the University of Southern California (USC) (“Short Biography”).

Midori Gotō (known professionally under the mononym Midori) is an internationally acclaimed concert violinist. The founder of several non-profit organizations, Midori is a Messenger of Peace for the United Nations and serves on the violin faculty at the Curtis Institute of Music (“Biography”). She previously held the Jascha Heifetz Chair in Violin at USC (“Biography”). Midori came to international attention in 1986 at age fourteen after a performance of the Serenade with the Boston Symphony Orchestra under Bernstein at the Tanglewood Music Festival in Lenox, Massachusetts (Rockwell).

29 Towards the end of the concerto, Midori broke a string on her violin, requiring her to borrow the Concertmaster’s (Rockwell). A string broke on the second violin and she passed it back to the Concertmaster (Rockwell). Maintaining her composure and high standard of playing in spite of these unusual circumstances, Midori successfully finished the work using the Associate Concertmaster’s violin (Rockwell). This remarkable event made the front page of The New York Times in an article titled: “Girl, 14, Conquers Tanglewood with 3 Violins” (Rockwell). On an interesting aside, I had the opportunity to work with Cecylia Arzewski while a high school student in Atlanta. Arzewski formerly served as Assistant Concertmaster of the Boston Symphony Orchestra and performed in this concert.

Gary Levinson has served as Principal Associate Concertmaster of the Dallas Symphony Orchestra since 2002 (“Gary Levinson Biography”). Levinson was previously a member of the New York Philharmonic’s first violin section beginning in 1987 (“Gary Levinson Biography”). Levinson played the Serenade for Bernstein on three occasions during his first season with the Philharmonic (Levinson). I sought to gain information from the interviews that would contribute to current gaps in knowledge and aid me in the development of my interpretation. Information and ideas obtained from the interviews shaped interpretive and technical decisions in my performance of the Serenade with the UQ Symphony Orchestra. I prepared all questions in consultation with my advisory panel. The interviews were conducted in a semi-structured format and occurred in person or online.

2.5.1 Ethical Clearance and Participant Consent I was approved by The University of Queensland School of Music’s Ethical Review Panel in June 2016 to conduct the four interviews related to this thesis. My research fully complies with the Australian Government’s National Statement on Ethical Conduct in Human Research (2007) (“National Statement”). Kvale and Brinkmann write that the avoidance of ethical conflicts in research interviews “rests on the interviewer’s ability to create a stage where the subject is free and safe to talk of private events recorded for later public use” (16). The authors note that this “requires a delicate balance between the interviewer’s concern for pursuing interesting knowledge and ethical respect for the integrity of the interview subject” (Kvale and Brinkmann 16).

I contacted each participant by email and briefed them on the content of my research project and their expected roles and responsibilities before they accepted my offer of participation. All four individuals agreed to participate without compensation or reward. The participants were provided with a participant information sheet and participant consent form prior to their respective interviews. I collected signed participant consent forms from all participants in advance of

30 conducting any research in which they were involved. All interview-related data was shared exclusively with my advisors.

2.5.2 Location and Content The first interview with Midori took place in Sydney, Australia in June 2016. Midori was able to make time to meet with me during her 2016 Australian recital tour. The interview occurred backstage in her dressing room at the Sydney Opera House. Its duration was approximately ninety minutes. The interview consisted of Midori’s personal history with Bernstein and her interpretive views on the Serenade. The second interview with Glenn Dicterow was conducted via FaceTime Audio in December 2016. It lasted for one hour and focused on Dicterow’s thoughts on the Serenade and his close professional interactions with Bernstein.

The third interview with Gary Levinson happened in January 2017 at his home in Dallas, Texas. The interview lasted for two hours and was centered around his experiences with Bernstein and the Serenade. The fourth interview with Jamie Bernstein was conducted by email. I contacted her through Craig Urquhart, a former personal assistant to Bernstein and current public relations consultant for the Leonard Bernstein Office, Inc. Urquhart forwarded the interview questions and forms to Jamie Bernstein, who later contacted me personally. We exchanged several emails and she sent me her responses in July 2017 along with her participant consent form. The questions pertained to her general perspectives on the Serenade, with an emphasis on its stylistic content.

2.5.3 Recordings and Transcripts Kvale and Brinkmann argue that recording an interview is vital since the “interviewer’s active listening and remembering may work as a selective filter, not only as a bias, but potentially also to retain those very meanings that are essential for the topic and the purpose of the interview” (179). The authors suggest that interview transcripts “can contribute substantial new knowledge to a field” (Kvale and Brinkmann 15). Kvale and Brinkmann recommend that interviews not be transcribed verbatim as oral speech and written texts entail different linguistic structures, including the loss of breathing, intonation, and tone of voice (178).

Concerning the analysis of interviews, Kvale and Brinkmann specify that there is no standard procedure when interpreting the meaning of an interviewee’s responses (181). Dicterow, Midori, and Levinson gave permission for me to record their interviews. I recorded each interview with my personal laptop computer. I went on to create transcripts of the interviews, which were later reviewed by my advisory panel. Due to the fact that my interview with Jamie Bernstein occurred by

31 email, there was no need to draft a transcript since her written responses already served in that capacity.

2.5.4 Data Coding and Analysis Kvale and Brinkmann observe that data coding involves “attaching one or more keywords to a text segment in order to permit later identification of a statement” (201-202). The authors explain that the goal of coding is to devise categories that encapsulate the breadth of the actions and experiences studied (Kvale and Brinkmann 202). These categories are then analyzed for similarities and differences to assist the researcher in drawing new theoretical conclusions (Kvale and Brinkmann 202). I utilized narrative analysis when analyzing all of my interview-related data. Kvale and Brinkmann propose that narrative analysis prioritizes the meaning of the text and can aid in restructuring the information shared by interview participants into a condensed and coherent narrative (Kvale and Brinkmann 222).

My system of coding began by reading through the transcripts I prepared. I took notes on my initial impressions of the data I gathered. Next, I identified important keywords and statements made by my research participants. I formulated categories that reflected the major issues and patterns I detected. I proceeded to divide these codes among the categories in order to maximize the organization of my data. I compared and contrasted this data after deciding which codes were most relevant to my research. I recorded the perspectives I obtained through coding before applying my findings to my writing and practice. I regularly revisited this data in order to gauge how my opinions developed as my research progressed.

2.6 Lessons Following my interview with Midori, she invited me to travel to Los Angeles, California to take lessons with her on the Serenade. We coordinated by email to set up the details of the lessons. During my preliminary research on the Serenade, Levinson was the first person I spoke to about the possibility of selecting the work for my thesis project. He offered for me to study the Serenade with him in Dallas upon my first visit back to the United States. Shortly prior to my return, we scheduled the dates of the interview and lessons. The aim of my lessons with Levinson and Midori was to obtain new knowledge on interpretive and technical matters in the Serenade.

2.6.1 Ethical Clearance and Participant Consent The lessons taken with Levinson and Midori were included in my ethical clearance review by The University of Queensland School of Music’s Ethical Review Panel. Both Levinson and Midori

32 agreed to give me lessons on the Serenade without compensation or reward. The participant consent form Midori signed at our interview in Sydney also applied to the lessons I later took with her in Los Angeles. Levinson signed a participant consent form at the beginning of our first lesson. All lesson-related data was shared exclusively with my advisory panel.

2.6.2 Location and Content I took three lessons with Midori in December 2016 in Los Angeles. With her permission, I used my laptop to record the lessons. The cumulative duration of the lessons was approximately three hours. The first lesson was held in the Jascha Heifetz Studio at USC, where we focused on the first and second movements of the Serenade. The second lesson took place at Midori’s private residence, which saw us cover the third and fourth movements. The third lesson also occurred at Midori’s private residence and was dedicated solely to the fifth movement. I subsequently took three lessons with Levinson in January 2017 at his home in Dallas. I recorded the lessons with my laptop after receiving his permission. The first lesson entailed the first movement of the Serenade. The second lesson concerned the second and third movements. The final lesson was on the fourth and fifth movements. I drafted transcripts of the lessons taken with Levinson and Midori once I returned to Brisbane.

2.6.3 Data Coding and Analysis I used a similar approach as described in Section 2.5.4 when analyzing the data from the lessons I took with Levinson and Midori. I began by reading each transcript and highlighting similar concepts and ideas that were discussed. I coded these statements and divided them into categories which reflected reoccurring themes and patterns I noticed in my analysis. I proceeded to take notes which detailed these observations. After an extensive review, I was able to concentrate on particular topics of interest that arose from the lessons, paying special attention to information that was unique to Levinson and Midori’s time spent working with Bernstein. My coding and analysis procedures helped me to determine which areas were significant to examine in my research.

2.7 Member Checking Member Checking is a qualitative research technique used to enhance the validity of research findings (Sandelowski 502). Sandelowski describes member checking as asking the research participants whether: “(a) researchers accurately rendered their experiences that were the target of study … (b) researchers fully captured the meaning those experiences had for them … (c) researchers’ final interpretive (e.g., ethnographic, phenomenological) accounts of those experiences do justice to them” (502). I sent relevant drafts of my writing to my research participants for review

33 as part of the member checking process. Participants were free to make edits, corrections, and suggestions before granting their approval.

2.8 Practice Journal I employed a practice journal over the course of my research. This journal aided me in recording and analyzing the interpretive and technical perspectives I acquired through my study of the Serenade. This established autoethnographic method was fundamental to my research. It permitted me to monitor my interpretive and technical views as well as to draw conclusions from my research activities more broadly. During the periods when I actively practiced the Serenade, I wrote daily journal entries on the content of each session. These entries varied in length and subject, as they were derived from the activities of a given session.

The journal entries I wrote on my lessons with Levinson and Midori were made in mutuality with reviewing recordings of them after returning to Brisbane. My practice greatly improved as a result of the lessons and interviews I undertook with Levinson and Midori due to the insights and advice they shared on technical, interpretive, and historical dimensions of the concerto. I documented how the interviews and lessons affected the development of my interpretation in addition to the impact this data had on solving interpretive and technical challenges in the Serenade.

My practice journal served to systematically track my progress and influenced both my research and performance output. This journal acted as the main avenue through which I undertook my analysis of interpretive and technical issues in the Serenade. In tandem with this examination, I studied the Boosey & Hawkes edition in order to fully understand Bernstein’s conception of the work in conjunction with Stern’s edits. I made reflections in my journal regarding challenging aspects of technical execution and interpretation within the concerto. I then experimented with strategies to address these matters and arrive at effective solutions, often by recording myself and listening back to the recordings.

During my investigation into technical execution and interpretation, I decided which areas of the Serenade warranted further study. I documented the reasons for why I chose to address these parts of the work and reflected upon my progress in my practice journal. I also wrote at length on the discrepancies I discovered between Bernstein’s holograph orchestral manuscript and the Boosey & Hawkes edition. As I tested markings from both scores, I recorded my thoughts in order to track how they matured as I configured my interpretation. The practice journal served as my primary source of reference when conceptualizing my performative views on the Serenade.

34 2.9 Score and Recordings Analyses A key element of mastering the Serenade and the intricacies of its structure was the completion of detailed analyses of the solo violin part and orchestral score. This included analyzing musical terminologies, dynamics, and articulations. I also studied the concerto’s harmonic structure in an effort to gain a fuller grasp of its compositional makeup. Bernstein is meticulously detailed throughout the Serenade, giving precise markings for all players involved. Score analysis was undertaken in combination with listening to recordings. Analyzing audio and video recordings of the Serenade was essential in uncovering its interpretive possibilities. This consequently contributed to my interpretive decisions and how I enacted them.

A substantial component of my score analysis was done in January 2018 in the Performing Arts Reading Room at the Library of Congress in Washington D.C., where I studied the initial manuscript of the Serenade. This led me to observe Bernstein’s markings firsthand and determine which parts of the Boosey & Hawkes edition differ from the manuscript. This comparison enabled me to construct an interpretation that better reflects Bernstein’s original musical intentions. I coded this data by labeling differences of articulations, dynamics, slurs, and melodic material with colored pencils on my copy of the score. This assisted me in organizing the high volume of information I gathered.

Studying recordings was useful in recognizing how different violinists navigate the Serenade’s technical challenges and what interpretive traditions have emerged over time. This was valuable in observing the many ways conductors, violinists, and orchestras have interpreted the Serenade. Recordings in which Bernstein acts as conductor were of a particular interest in learning more about how he approached the concerto. Since the recordings span multiple decades, I was able to ascertain how interpretations have evolved since Stern’s rendering. Regularly listening to recordings helped me to track how my interpretation of the work developed as my research progressed.

2.10 Concluding Remarks This chapter details the methodology I employed in my research on the Serenade. Gaining an understanding of the principles of artistic research and autoethnography underpinned the successful execution of this project. Combining the two areas impressed upon me the relevant artistic and scholarly mechanisms needed to analyze and discuss the data involved in my research. The iterative cyclic web and performer’s analysis frameworks provided me with methodological systems to carry out my practice-led research. These two models feature techniques that served me in managing the multidimensional and reflexive manner in which artistic and academic research are interconnected.

35 Taking lessons and conducting interviews with my research participants supplied me with critical knowledge that shaped my interpretive and technical choices in the Serenade. This remained central to the evolution of my interpretation. The interview-related writings of Kvale and Brinkmann guided how I conducted the interviews with my research participants and the way I analyzed the subsequent data collected from them. Their interviewing techniques made it possible for me to avoid ethical conflicts in concurrence with utilizing practical skills and judgments as I assembled and analyzed a large quantity of data. The carefully planned measures I took to ensure the integrity of my research participants were based on Kvale and Brinkmann’s interviewing guidelines.

The circumstances of the interviews and lessons detailed in this chapter served as the basis for a significant portion of my research. My practice and study of the concerto facilitated the progression of my interpretive and technical views. Maintaining a practice-journal was my chief method for analyzing and reflecting upon the data I assembled. This journal acted as the means through which I documented my daily advancement. Monitoring the perspectives I gained from my practice was crucial to how my research unfolded. I was able to quickly solve interpretive and technical challenges I encountered in my study through this medium.

Reviewing audio and video recordings was a regular part of my analytical process. Recordings in which Bernstein serves as conductor were of a particular relevance to my research. I appreciated the individuality of the recordings and how Bernstein tailors his conducting style to the artistic personality of each violinist. This aided in supporting the data I obtained from the interviews and lessons with my research participants, which ultimately informed my interpretive and technical choices in the Serenade. My analysis of Bernstein’s holograph orchestral manuscript and the Boosey & Hawkes edition was a foremost domain of investigation related to this project. Comparing the two scores caused me to discover discrepancies that raised a variety of interpretive and technical issues that formed a substantial portion of my research.

36 Chapter 3: Interviews and Lessons

My interviews and lessons with Jamie Bernstein, Glenn Dicterow, Gary Levinson, and Midori covered a wide-range of topics pertaining to the Serenade. Their close personal and professional relationships with the composer provided previously unrecorded firsthand knowledge on the concerto. The interviews and lessons undertaken allowed me to gather data on historical, interpretive, and technical areas of inquiry. This chapter documents the information shared with me by my research participants in order to provide new insights related to the solo violin part on issues that are of central importance to the work’s history and current status within the violin repertoire. The areas of discussion I chose to focus the interviews and lessons on were derived from the literature studied within my contextual analysis in conjunction with the findings I arrived at through my individual practice prior to the execution of my data collection and analysis processes.

3.1 Initial Exposure to the Serenade Glenn Dicterow, Gary Levinson, and Midori each became acquainted with the Serenade in a different manner. Their experiences of working on the concerto with Bernstein were diverse in both nature and content. All three violinists interacted with the composer in New York during the late 1980s. Midori was the last violinist to perform the concerto with Bernstein shortly before his death.

3.1.1 Glenn Dicterow Glenn Dicterow is a well-known and respected performer of the Serenade, having been introduced to the work in the late 1980s. He was unfamiliar with the piece until being approached by the management of the New York Philharmonic to perform it on a national tour of the United States under Bernstein. Dicterow did not have the opportunity to study the Serenade with Bernstein prior to their first rehearsal together. His premiere performance of the Serenade with Bernstein and the Philharmonic was in Central Park on August 4, 1986 (“Free Parks Concerts”).

3.1.2 Midori Midori is among the world’s most esteemed concert violinists. She is closely associated with the Serenade, having had her major international career launched by a performance of the concerto with Bernstein at the Tanglewood Music Festival in 1986. Midori had never played the Serenade until she was asked to perform it with Bernstein. He personally requested that she collaborate on the work with him at Tanglewood after performing together with the European Chamber Youth Symphony on a tour of Europe and Japan in 1985. Midori worked on the Serenade with Bernstein at his apartment in Manhattan shortly before their first rehearsal. Her legendary performance of the

37 Serenade with Bernstein and the Boston Symphony Orchestra occurred at Tanglewood on July 26, 1986 (Rockwell). Midori performed the work again with Bernstein and the London Symphony Orchestra at the inaugural Pacific Music Festival in Sapporo, Japan in 1990.

3.1.3 Gary Levinson Gary Levinson joined the first violin section of the New York Philharmonic in 1987. During his first season, Bernstein came to record the symphonies of Ives. While on a rehearsal break, Bernstein sought out Levinson upon hearing from a colleague that he was learning the Serenade. Levinson had been preparing to play the Serenade with the Minnesota Sinfonia for an upcoming Bernstein festival. Bernstein invited Levinson to play the work for him, which led to two private coaching sessions. Later in the season, Bernstein returned to conduct Berlioz’s Symphonie Fantastique and offered to hear Levinson play the piece for him again with the Philharmonic’s staff pianist. Levinson did not perform the Serenade with Bernstein but spent a significant amount of time being coached on the work by the composer.

3.2 Performing with Bernstein Dicterow and Midori belong to a select group of violinists who performed the Serenade with Bernstein in concert. The insights they gained from working with the composer shed important light on his stylistic conception of the concerto and how violinists might decide to form their interpretations. I discussed with each violinist the level of interpretive freedom Bernstein gave them in their respective performances and how working with him inspired their interpretations. I also raised the notion of whether the piece should be performed by memory or with the music, as both approaches are often engaged by violinists in professional concert settings.

3.2.1 Glenn Dicterow Dicterow remembered Bernstein’s enthusiasm on the podium while conducting the Serenade. He referenced Bernstein’s energy as being particularly electric during a performance at Royce Hall in Los Angeles. Dicterow noted that although Bernstein’s conducting technique was not always clear, he had a unique ability to transform an orchestra’s sound. On this rare gift, Dicterow commented: “There’s nothing I can say that can really describe what that feeling is like unless you’re in it. It’s an emotional experience. It’s a total transformation of heart and mind” (Dicterow).

Dicterow recalled that Bernstein was generally straightforward in how he conducted the Serenade. According to Dicterow, Bernstein viewed the concerto as a neoclassical work. However, he credited Bernstein as giving him complete artistic freedom in their performances. Dicterow knew the

38 Serenade by memory but chose to use the music when performing it in concert. Since twentieth century music is often performed with the score, Dicterow recommended that violinists adopt whichever option suits their personal preference.

3.2.2 Midori Remembering her first impression of Bernstein, Midori stated: “I noticed his extremely passionate and enthusiastic energy towards life. It was very powerful. His love for music was incredible and being in his presence was a greatly inspiring experience” (Midori, “Personal Interview”). Similar to Dicterow, Midori described Bernstein as having given her considerable interpretive freedom in concert. She felt that her partnership with him on stage was one of equals. On this sense of collaboration, Midori observed: “It was an interactive relationship … He actually really inspired me to interpret it” (Midori, “Personal Interview”). On Bernstein’s response to her now legendary performance of the Serenade at Tanglewood, Midori did not notice anything unique about the composer’s behavior afterwards:

His reaction didn’t have to do with the strings breaking. He loved giving hugs and was really passionate about everything. He was just exuding always with so much energy. It was incredible. It was no different back then and I was only a child around the scene anyway. Everyone else was an adult. There was no mention of the strings or anything like that and he was extremely warm. (Midori, “Personal Interview”)

Despite Bernstein’s ill health at the time of their second performance of the Serenade at the Pacific Music Festival, Midori said that he was still full of enthusiasm while on the podium. Regarding how her interpretation of the Serenade and overall musicianship was impacted by her experience of working with Bernstein, Midori remarked:

Everything became very vivid. Much more than what one might initially expect … It wasn’t just about Tanglewood, but being in his presence. It’s something that you can’t really find a replacement for. It was so special and impressionable. It wasn’t just about the music, but his whole sort of outlook on life – the energy, the passion. (Midori, “Personal Interview”)

3.2.3 Findings The interpretive freedom Dicterow and Midori described Bernstein as having given them during their performances with the composer is important in establishing the degree to which violinists should follow the solo violin part in the Boosey & Hawkes edition. This is supported by the range

39 of interpretations displayed in the four audio recordings Bernstein made of the work with violinists whose interpretations span the full neoromantic and neoclassical spectrum. I determined in mutuality with Dicterow and Midori’s recommendation that violinists should make interpretive decisions that align with their individual performative views. Bernstein tailored much of his conducting style to the musical personality of each violinist, which should encourage violinists to experiment with different interpretive variations.

Bernstein’s open mindedness towards Dicterow and Midori’s interpretations helped me to balance my adherence to the composer’s directions in the solo violin part with my individual interpretive and technical decisions. In the case of my own interpretation, this was especially evident in instances where discrepancies arose between Bernstein’s holograph orchestral manuscript and the Boosey & Hawkes edition. Stern’s important role in the development of the Serenade makes his editorial annotations especially worthy of consideration. Since many of his recommendations can be observed in recordings of the concerto, my discussion with my research participants on the degree to which violinists should follow his markings was definitive in how I incorporated aspects of both scores into my performance of the work with the UQ Symphony Orchestra.

3.3 Isaac Stern Isaac Stern is a crucial figure within the context of the Serenade’s history since Bernstein wrote the concerto specifically for him. Stern gave the Serenade’s world premiere and later edited and fingered the only available edition of the work published by Boosey & Hawkes. His recording is generally viewed as the standard-bearer by which subsequent interpretations of the Serenade are most often compared. Stern’s edits in the Boosey & Hawkes edition have greatly influenced violinists who have studied the Serenade over the past six decades, as he has remained the sole editorial authority on the work. I sought Dicterow, Levinson, and Midori’s opinions on the merit of Stern’s fingerings and whether they chose to follow them in their performances since his markings have had a substantial influence on violinists over the years since the edition was published.

3.3.1 Glenn Dicterow Dicterow speculated that Stern likely had strong opinions on Bernstein’s writing in the Serenade in respect to what was technically possible on the violin and what was not. He viewed Stern’s edits as worthy of consideration but pointed out that violinists can use “a few more slides and portamenti than Stern would have done” (Dicterow). Dicterow acknowledged the merit of Stern’s fingerings in the Boosey & Hawkes edition, although he maintained a preference for using his own personal fingerings. He admired Stern’s interpretation of the work yet found a level of emotional depth that

40 can be explored beyond his reserved approach. Dicterow mentioned that violinists should feel free to make their own interpretive choices without focusing too closely on Stern’s edits in the edition.

3.3.2 Midori Midori cited Stern’s recording as one of the finest interpretations of the Serenade but said that his interpretation should not dictate a violinist’s musical decisions:

I know the recording so well. In the opening, that sound is so uniquely Stern – or the fourth movement, or the cadenza in the fifth movement and the charm, you know, sort of like an old dance. But you know, like all great compositions, there may have been an incident or something that happened along the way that the composer may have written specifically for a player or the player might have influenced the composer to write a specific way. But it starts to have a life of its own. It has its own history and it becomes just a piece – an independent work. The greater the piece, the more quickly it happens that way. I think that’s what happened with this piece. I know the Stern recording so well and that’s the recording I grew up with, you know, learning and all that, but it doesn’t stop there – it goes on. It doesn’t negate anything or take anything away from Stern’s recording, but the piece has its own history and it’s going to continue. (Midori, “Personal Interview”)

Midori fondly remembered playing the Serenade for Stern. On her lessons with him, she commented: “I had markings from what Stern said and all that from our lessons together. He always wanted me to loosen up and to try to sound drunk or just sort of bombastic – or freer basically” (Midori, “Personal Interview”). In relation to how strictly one should adhere to Stern’s bowings and fingerings in the Boosey & Hawkes edition, Midori chose to devise her own and made a distinction between editorial markings and those that come directly from the composer:

Everyone’s hands are different. Bernstein didn’t play the violin, so they aren’t his fingerings and while I respect Stern’s as a point of reference, I don’t use all of them – and some of the slides and all that, I might decide to slide elsewhere. I know that both Stern and Bernstein would be very dismayed if I followed the fingerings exactly as they are without questioning. In fact, it was Stern who taught me that the right fingering is what is right for you, and it depends on what you want and how you want to play it. Editorial fingerings are different from a composer’s markings. The composer’s markings must be respected at all times. Stern’s bowings work well for me for the most part. They really capture the spirit of the

41 piece and I like them. However, bowings are personal interpretation. Stern taught me that! (Midori, “Personal Interview”)

3.3.3 Gary Levinson Levinson thought similarly to Dicterow and Midori that violinists should feel permitted to make interpretive and technical decisions without focusing too intently on the Boosey & Hawkes edition. He stressed the importance of violinists experimenting with bowings and fingerings that best suit their playing since Stern’s suggestions are not always technically efficient. Levinson said that it is difficult to know how long Stern might have taken to edit the score in addition to how his views could have developed over time. Due to these factors, he believed that violinists should not restrict themselves exclusively to Stern’s markings.

3.3.4 Findings Since my study of the manuscript allowed me to separate Bernstein’s original intentions from the content of the edition, I observed through my analysis the multitude of markings made by Stern in his role as the editor. These annotations are evident throughout virtually all recordings of the concerto, especially in relation to common articulations and slurs. Dicterow, Levinson, and Midori expressed their opinions that Stern’s edits are valid but should not be perceived as mandatory to follow. This gave me an expanded sense of interpretive freedom, since Levinson and Midori encouraged me to experiment with different interpretive and technical strategies while crafting my interpretation of the concerto. Midori’s view that editorial markings contain more flexibility when compared to the composer’s markings especially influenced my comparative analysis of Bernstein’s holograph orchestral manuscript with the Boosey & Hawkes edition, since Stern was not involved in the creation of the first draft of the concerto.

Hand shape and finger length play a definitive role in the selection of appropriate fingerings for violinists. Such choices are inherently personal, as Midori expressed to me in our interview and lessons. However, Stern’s fingerings served as an important foundation from which I determined my own choices as I studied the piece. Bernstein writes only several fingerings in the orchestral manuscript. Therefore, Stern had considerable artistic license to make his own recommendations in the Boosey & Hawkes edition. Since Stern is widely regarded as one of the greatest violinists of the twentieth century, I took his suggestions into serious account in the early stages of my practice. I eventually came to find that his choices are representative of a mid-twentieth century playing style that is largely antiquated when contemporary violin performance practices are considered.

42 This particularly relates to fingerings Stern recommends that involve a variety of slides, which Midori referenced as a reason for why she tended to diverge from his markings. Stern’s fingerings additionally complicate many of the Serenade’s central technical problems, which was communicated to me by Levinson as a reason for his usage of other fingerings. The Serenade’s technical challenges appear throughout all five movements of the Serenade and are intertwined with its principal interpretive problems. Since fingerings serve in both interpretive and technical capacities, I found through my practice that my choices were largely determined by my individual physical attributes and the manner in which I felt the piece should be performed stylistically. I chose to avoid incorporating a large number of neoromantic slides or fingerings in difficult passages that could be more readily mastered in lower positions or on alternate strings.

3.4 Technical Challenges The Serenade is filled with formidable technical challenges that violinists must master in order to deliver a successful performance. These demands include complex double stops, large intervallic leaps, and advanced bowing techniques. The work’s unusual combination of musical styles contributes to the multitude of interpretive and technical elements that must be carefully balanced by the solo violin. The vast technical impediments violinists face in the concerto was a central point of discussion with Dicterow, who detailed his views with me on how Bernstein’s unusual compositional style defines the work’s high level of technical difficulty. Dicterow’s father knew Bernstein during his student years at Tanglewood, which provided unique insights into the composer’s lack of experience with violin playing and technique.

3.4.1 Glenn Dicterow On the Serenade’s technical problems, Dicterow stated: “There are sections in the piece which are violinistic, but at least seventy-five percent of it is not. Lenny put a lot of things in there that are almost impossible to make sound good” (Dicterow). Dicterow thought that while all of the passagework in the concerto is ultimately playable, it is difficult to make the Serenade sound clean and well-executed. He attributed these challenges as being connected to Bernstein’s lack of technical knowledge on string playing:

Lenny didn’t really know much about string playing in general. I know this for a fact because when he was a young student at Tanglewood, my father-in-law was there with him. He played in the Philadelphia Orchestra for many years in the seconds. He used to go to Tanglewood in the summer and Lenny was also a student there at the time. Lenny would often go up to him and ask many questions such as, ‘How is this done on the violin?’ Lenny

43 was a bit clueless when it came to writing for the violin. He was a keyboardist and that is very much evident in his writing. (Dicterow)

Dicterow characterized the solo violin part as being very exposed. He referred to the Serenade’s complicated rhythmic patterns and wide-ranging leaps as examples of the work’s technical difficulty. Despite the concerto’s demands, Dicterow believed that it does not necessarily sound virtuosic when played at a high level. Intonation is one of the Serenade’s main technical obstacles and Dicterow described this aspect of the work as “extremely challenging” (Dicterow). The Serenade contains technically awkward passages entailing intricate double stops. He sensed that it lacks the same interpretive and technical ease found in many concertos from the standard violin repertoire. On the Serenade’s uncomfortably-written passagework, Dicterow remarked:

It is very awkward and can be ungratifying unless the performer is very secure technically. The technique has to be a foregone conclusion so that you can really nail all those notes, but once you master that it is a great vehicle for a violin soloist as it shows so many facets of the stylistic spectrum. (Dicterow)

3.4.2 Findings Dicterow’s perspectives on the Serenade’s expansive technical problems supported my identification of numerous passages within the solo violin part that are written in a manner that do not sit easily within the left hand. The awkward nature of Bernstein’s writing in these instances affects the ease in which many articulations, double stops, shifts, and string crossings are negatively impacted. In seeking to solve these technical challenges, Dicterow’s advice on first securing one’s technique so that the work’s interpretive complexities can be mastered shaped how I organized my practice sessions. I structured my early practice in a way that focused on breaking down difficult passages into their basic technical elements before approaching the concerto’s technical challenges within the overall framework of each movement. I found that I was better able to experiment with the crafting of musical phrases once I had secured my technique as Dicterow recommended.

The relationship between the Serenade’s interpretive and technical problems is closely related, since a musical interpretation cannot be effectively communicated to an audience without achieving a high level of technical mastery in a musical work. Therefore, the Serenade’s most central performance practice issue involving neoromantic and neoclassical interpretations directly relates to how Bernstein configured the solo violin part’s uncommon technical language. Since neoromantic and jazz styles of violin playing often involve a variety of noticeable slides, the Serenade’s strong

44 presence of these two musical styles caused me to examine how I could execute a given slide in a manner that was technically efficient but remained appropriately situated musically. My interpretive and technical choices in the piece were closely linked to my study and performance with orchestra. This served me in achieving an interpretation that appropriately balanced the work’s technical demands with its stylistic diversity.

3.5 Style and Interpretation The Serenade’s eccentric character can prove off-putting for violinists and audiences. Its atypical fusion of neoclassicism, neoromanticism, and jazz makes it a singular concerto within the violin repertoire. These diverse stylistic areas present violinists with the challenge of forming a cohesive interpretation that respects Bernstein’s initial intentions without limiting the work’s inherent musical impulses. I discussed the array of interpretive choices available to violinists and the issue of what style the Serenade should be played in with my research participants. Since jazz is a cornerstone of Bernstein’s compositional style, I sought clarifications from Dicterow, Levinson, and Midori on what importance should be placed on bringing out the work’s jazz stylistic attributes.

3.5.1 Jamie Bernstein Jamie Bernstein expressed her sentiment that the Serenade does not neatly fall into one stylistic category:

I think by the 1950s, many composers were really straining to break free of the neoclassical versus Romantic straitjacket. Why can’t it be a combination of the two? Who built a wall between these genres and styles anyway? That’s the fun of the Serenade. It doesn’t hew to one predetermined construct. (J. Bernstein)

3.5.2 Glenn Dicterow Dicterow’s interpretation of the Serenade has predominantly leaned towards neoromanticism. He described the concerto as “passionate, moody, and conversational” (Dicterow). Dicterow recalled that while on tour, Bernstein told him that he had written the Serenade with the objective of it being performed in a neoclassical style: “Lenny said, ‘You know, this is a neoclassical piece and not Korngold’” (Dicterow). Dicterow disagreed with this and let Bernstein know that he felt there was greater depth in the Serenade than the composer realized. Concerning the work’s neoromanticism, Dicterow observed: “It is extremely passionate writing. For example, look at the cadenza in the fourth movement. There is incredible expression throughout the Serenade from deep inside the soul. This is a rarity in most contemporary compositions” (Dicterow).

45 Regarding Bernstein’s view of his generally neoromantic interpretation, Dicterow commented: “I think Lenny was definitely won over in the end. He told me that he considered it to be one of the best interpretations he had ever heard of the Serenade” (Dicterow). Dicterow stated that the Serenade is ultimately a good enough piece to “withstand many different interpretations” (Dicterow). Due to the Serenade’s enigmatic characteristics, Dicterow said that the concerto has faced difficulty in achieving success with audiences. He suspected that this is partially due to Bernstein’s awkward string writing, causing many violinists to fail in representing the work to its fullest potential. Dicterow warned that without delving into the Serenade’s emotional range and richness, interpretations can often fall flat and leave listeners unsatisfied.

On the playing style needed for the concerto, Dicterow underscored the importance of jazz: “If you don’t feel the jazz toward the end, this piece just doesn’t work” (Dicterow). He said that violinists should aim to achieve a looseness comparable with blues when interpreting the work’s long, melodic lines. Dicterow saw similarities with Stravinsky in the Serenade in respect to its intervallic leaps. He also noted that the Serenade’s energetic rhythms are “very reminiscent of West Side Story” (Dicterow). Dicterow continued to point out melodic connections between the Serenade and West Side Story: “There is so much of West Side Story in this piece. Just look at the second page and check out what the first few notes are. Is that not West Side Story? Those intervals are part of Lenny’s musical language” (Dicterow).

3.5.3 Midori Midori emphasized the significance of jazz in the concerto and making interpretive distinctions that pay attention to its stylistic features: “There is a lot of jazz in the Serenade and there needs to be a great deal of contrasts so that things don’t sound too similar and the different characters are brought out” (Midori, “Personal Interview”). Pertaining to her overall impression of the Serenade, Midori spoke of its expansive interpretive variety:

This piece is fantastic for showcasing the violin. Bernstein really knows how to bring out so many potential ideas that we can accomplish on the instrument, as well as great emotional contrasts … Bernstein loved to dance, and so there are parts where the rhythm really takes off. There has to be a feeling of dance. (Midori, “Personal Interview”)

Midori observed the presence of neoclassicism in the Serenade and drew comparisons between how Bernstein crafted his score in relation to composers of the Classical period:

46 In general, certain composers were very specific and meticulous in utilizing markings. Bernstein was one of them. For example, in Mozart or Beethoven, we study the urtext and make a difference when there is a dot, no dot, or a caret. Bernstein is very meticulous in the way he notates and writes, like Beethoven. His markings in the score are very much an important part of this piece. (Midori, “Personal Interview”)

During my lessons with Midori, she prioritized capturing the essence of the opening phrase in Phaedrus: Pausanias: “The general feeling that I got when working with Bernstein was that everything is very precious and tender” (Midori, “Private Lessons”). Midori also reiterated the necessity of mastering the correct articulations in Erixymathus:

The notes with dots need to be very dry. You need to go with the orchestra in terms of tempo, as it is a very difficult part. The bow hair needs to be somewhere between flat and angled in terms of execution. (Midori, “Private Lessons”)

She later highlighted the introspectiveness of Agathon and said that I should ensure that a slow tempo is taken:

Make sure that the tempo in the fourth movement isn’t too fast. It was quite slow when we played it together. This movement needs to feel very deep and heavy. It is the most moving out of all the movements and needs to feel very solemn. (Midori, “Private Lessons”)

On Socrates: Alcibiades, Midori recommended that its exuberant qualities be brought out: “In terms of general character, it needs to be very festive, flamboyant, and rude at times. There is a lot of jazz in this movement – a little bit of jazzy dance” (Midori, “Private Lessons”).

3.5.4 Gary Levinson Similar to Midori, Levinson found Bernstein’s markings to be aligned with neoclassicism, akin to the scores of Beethoven:

When one talks about the Serenade being neoclassical, I think that Bernstein’s markings in the score are very much like Beethoven’s. They are extremely detailed, well thought out, and totally work. Lenny was an intellectual and I don’t think that’s a pejorative. (Levinson)

47 Levinson acknowledged the importance of jazz in the Serenade but made a differentiation as to how it should be handled between the first and fifth movements:

The importance of jazz in the Serenade is kind of a complex issue. The last movement is very jazzy throughout the second half. However, there is also a lot of jazz influence in the first movement. You aren’t going to swing there though. It’s very precise. The first movement is much more disciplined in the way it’s written. A lot of it is gestures. (Levinson)

While Hebrew liturgical music had an effect on some of Bernstein’s compositions, Levinson did not observe a link between Judaism and the Serenade. On Bernstein’s close affiliation with New York City, Levinson discerned an underlying influence in the concerto from its musical culture:

The slides in the Serenade are very much a New York gesture. With that being said, the compositional material and the gesture are separate. I would say that there is no New York compositional material in the Serenade, but there is certainly an inherent New York playing style that was in Lenny’s blood. At the time, New Englanders were a bit stiff. The heart on your sleeve character of the piece is very much New York City. Compositionally? No. (Levinson)

In regard to whether the Serenade is inherently American in style, Levinson commented: “I would say that it’s definitely very Bernstein, which is in some ways even better” (Levinson). He also remembered Bernstein as placing a strong emphasis on tone colors during their coaching sessions:

Lenny spoke a lot about the structure of the piece and how vivid it needs to be. That’s one thing that I don’t think we have retained since his death. Everything basically sounds similar to everything else. He loved vivid colors and I really think you need to have the courage to do them. (Levinson)

3.5.5 Findings Jamie Bernstein’s opinion on the work’s stylistic diversity strengthened my conviction that my interpretation should include aspects of each genre. My belief that the Serenade can refrain from being identified as belonging to a single style was supported by her statements. While Bernstein originally sought for the work to be played in a neoclassical manner, Dicterow’s conversations with the composer underscored my conclusion that the Serenade’s strong neoromantic inclinations

48 should be taken into careful consideration by violinists when studying the piece. Bernstein’s enthusiasm for Dicterow’s interpretation illustrated the composer’s open-mindedness towards musical choices that extended beyond his personal interpretive views on the concerto. Midori also experienced Bernstein’s enthusiasm for variations in interpretation, but was mindful to emphasize that he desired a very slow tempo in Agathon. He also expressed to her that a considerable degree of exuberance should be displayed when playing Socrates: Alcibiades.

Bernstein likely had limited experience with neoromantic approaches to the concerto beyond his collaboration with Francescatti in the 1960s. Dicterow’s interpretation was deeply rooted in neoromanticism and Bernstein’s affinity for his playing style made me feel comfortable in further exploring neoromantic aspects of the Agathon movement in particular. Dicterow’s conversations with the composer reinforced the findings I arrived at through my analysis of audio/video recordings as well as the stylistic choices I made in the solo violin part that were primarily based in neoromanticism and jazz. Dicterow, Levinson, and Midori each placed a high degree of emphasis on incorporating jazz elements into their interpretations. Levinson made an important stylistic distinction between the jazz found in Phaedrus: Pausanias and Socrates: Alcibiades. I decided to follow his recommendation that the jazz contained in the first movement should be less improvisational than in the fifth when performing the concerto with orchestra.

3.6 The Symposium Critics and scholars have long debated the correlation between the Serenade and the Symposium. Bernstein writes in his preface to the score that the Serenade was inspired by the Symposium but does not act in a programmatic capacity. Some scholars have remained unconvinced by the composer’s explanation and have sought to determine whether he added the thematic relationship with Plato’s dialogue after the concerto was completed. Jamie Bernstein provided her views on this relationship while Dicterow, Levinson, and Midori discussed their memories of what scenes in the Symposium were discussed by the composer. Since the disagreement over whether Bernstein originally composed the Serenade with the Symposium in mind remains widespread, it was compelling to hear all three violinists recount instances in which Bernstein directly referenced Plato’s dialogue.

3.6.1 Jamie Bernstein Jamie Bernstein was not convinced that the relationship between the Serenade and the Symposium is of enough significant importance for violinists or audiences to consider when assessing the merit

49 of the concerto or its position within her father’s compositional output. She stated that the Serenade and the Symposium are in her view indeed connected, but not in a programmatic sense as certain scholars have suggested:

In my opinion, the Serenade, can be wholly enjoyed as an abstract piece of music. You don’t need to know how it lines up with the Symposium to enjoy the music itself. Nor do we really need to establish which came first, ‘the chicken or the egg’ in terms of the text influencing the music or the music predating the involvement of the text. I think it stands alone beautifully regardless of its literary inspiration. (J. Bernstein)

3.6.2 Glenn Dicterow Dicterow felt that it is useful for violinists to have read the Symposium while learning the Serenade but that it is not an absolute requirement. He said that he would personally encourage his students to read it. Dicterow recalled Bernstein as having referenced scenes from the Symposium while describing various phrases in the Serenade. He said that Bernstein wanted a tremendous amount of exuberance in the fifth movement during the party scene in the spirit of the debate. On the importance of this relationship, Dicterow recommended that violinists become familiar with Plato’s dialogue:

Lenny was definitely inspired by the Symposium. I think it’s beneficial to know the text. It helps you to understand the moodiness and quick changes of the music. There is great profundity in the contemplative opening and again in the slow movement contrasted by the thrashing, boisterous jazz display in the final movement. (Dicterow)

3.6.3 Midori Midori believed that it is wise for violinists to read the Symposium and that she would encourage her students to do so. Comparable to Dicterow, she remembered Bernstein as having spoken about scenes from the Symposium when discussing the Serenade. Concerning this association, Midori noted:

It’s not exactly programmatic music, but it’s the inspiration … Bernstein was such a scholar of everything … It’s not to say it has to sound particularly like this or that, but I think it’s good to know and they’re all points that Bernstein would say, ‘Ah yeah, okay now, so-and- so came in and did this and was drunk’ or he spoke about the most precious rhetorical

50 statement that they had made. So, it’s not exactly programmatic music in the sense that it’s like a play, but there are elements that he related it to. (Midori, “Personal Interview”)

3.6.4 Gary Levinson Levinson stressed that the social dynamics of the speakers in the Symposium were very important to Bernstein. He recalled the composer as having described the work as “being at times a banter, especially in the last movement” (Levinson). Levinson remembered Bernstein’s considerable investment in the characters of the Symposium and how their individual personalities shape certain aspects of the music.

3.6.5 Findings The relationship between the Serenade and the Symposium was a main point of interest that I encountered early in my review of literature on the Serenade. In my discussion of this connection with my research participants, I was validated in my preliminary hypothesis that Bernstein’s preface to the score should be accepted when he writes that the concerto refrains from being a programmatic representation of the Symposium. Bernstein had once expressed that he regretted his choice to rename the concerto Serenade instead of Symposium. Dicterow, Levinson, and Midori caused me to feel increasingly comfortable in forgoing from actively seeking to base each movement within a speaker’s respective persona or statements as I performed the concerto with orchestra. Bernstein referenced the Symposium with each violinist I interviewed but did not give them explicit instructions that they needed to model their interpretations after the events in the dialogue apart from the second section of the fifth movement.

Each violinist remembered that Bernstein placed an emphasis on bringing forth the energy of the party scene within Socrates: Alcibiades. This area of the concerto could be seen as being the most programmatic, even though Bernstein borrowed most of its thematic material from his earlier composition Five Anniversaries. Through my own readings of the Symposium, I found it easier to understand why scholars hold such different views on the discrepancies involving the connection between the two works. It is difficult to find definitive allusions between much of the Serenade and the Symposium. However, there is a conversational nature to the piece that I believe can be attributed to Bernstein’s inspiration from the Symposium as he discusses in the preface to the score, where he writes that the music generally adheres to the Platonic form.

While preparing for my performance with orchestra, I aimed to derive a general sense of inspiration from the spirit of the debate rather than actively crafting phrases after specific characters or scenes

51 described by Plato. The confusion felt by many audiences on this topic has contributed to its inability to join the standard violin repertoire, as explained by Levinson. The Serenade’s technical language was unique during the time in which it was written when compared to other violin concertos. Dicterow estimated that its technical challenges have continued to cause many violinists to avoid learning the concerto. This in combination with its negative reception from critics prompted me to conclude that these issues establish the principal reasons for the concerto’s general unpopularity and exclusion from the standard violin repertoire.

3.7 Role in Current Performance Culture Although the Serenade has been recorded by many esteemed violinists, it has not yet achieved a place in the standard violin repertoire. This has perhaps remained the concerto’s most unexplained aspect. Bernstein and Stern did not perform the Serenade together in their later years and it failed to receive any noteworthy resurgence until the composer’s 2018 centennial celebrations. There is no single aspect of the Serenade that has caused it to remain outside of the standard violin repertoire but rather a combination of multiple factors. Scholars have debated whether the work is a violin concerto due to its non-traditional form and thematic basis, which caused confusion with audiences when it was introduced to the public. The Serenade’s early lack of reception from critics impeded its ability to gain traction with violinists. I sought clarity from my research participants on these issues in order to arrive at a deeper understanding for why it has failed to join the standard violin repertoire, especially when Bernstein continues to maintain immense international recognition.

3.7.1 Jamie Bernstein Jamie Bernstein mentioned her affinity for the Serenade and its strength within Bernstein’s compositional output: “It happens to be my favorite symphonic piece of my father’s. The slow movement is particularly sublime” (J. Bernstein). She acknowledged that she was only a small child when the Serenade was premiered, so her experience with the work was limited to her role as a listener and admirer. Regarding whether the Serenade is indeed a violin concerto, she commented: “Is it a violin concerto? It’s beautiful, it features an ensemble, and a solo violin out front. So maybe we could call it an eccentric violin concerto” (J. Bernstein).

3.7.2 Glenn Dicterow Dicterow possessed minimal awareness of the Serenade prior to being invited to perform it with the New York Philharmonic in 1986. He linked the Serenade’s lack of recognition during Bernstein’s life with the twelve-tone revolution, which was an influential compositional movement at the time.

52 Dicterow noted that the work was not performed regularly in the 1960s and 1970s. He said that his unfamiliarity with the concerto was not uncommon among violinists of his generation:

The Serenade was not part of the violin repertoire at that time. Nobody was playing it. I doubt much of it was played after the Stern recording happened in the 1950s. I don’t think Stern went out of his way to do it again. It just wasn’t repeated. You still don’t hear about that piece being played very much. (Dicterow)

When Dicterow began learning the Serenade, there were only two recordings available to him by Stern and Francescatti. He noticed that approximately one decade later, the concerto began to undergo a slight resurgence – as one would see it programed more often. As to why the Serenade has largely been neglected in spite of Bernstein’s formidable global fame, Dicterow stated:

If you take the Serenade and put it on your stand having never heard it before, you would say to yourself, ‘What? Who’s going to play this?’ It doesn’t feel like a rewarding piece until you really delve into it. It’s also not a traditional concerto. The third movement is less than two minutes long. It is so unique in form in addition to what he is basing it on … Nobody would put their careers on the line to go out and play the Serenade rather than the Bruch or Tchaikovsky concertos. It’s difficult to sell this piece. I’ve heard many violinists play it very unattractively. (Dicterow)

The mixed reception critics gave of Bernstein’s compositions was seen by Dicterow as having furthered the Serenade’s relative obscurity. He humorously remembered Bernstein as having once told him during a rehearsal: “This is the greatest f**king piece I ever wrote” (Dicterow). In the context of Bernstein’s compositional output, Dicterow believed that the Serenade is one of his foremost musical achievements:

The Serenade was written right before West Side Story. What an incredible period of creation for Bernstein. Not that his other works weren’t great, but I think he really poured his heart into this piece. It is truly so original. Lenny actually took a few of his thematic and melodic ideas from the Serenade and used them in West Side Story. (Dicterow)

3.7.3 Midori Midori spoke of orchestras being required to hire percussion extras in order to perform the Serenade due to its irregular instrumentation. She referenced the rental fees necessary for acquiring the

53 orchestral parts due to copyright laws as a possible hindrance for ensembles. According to Midori, these costs have contributed to why some orchestras have declined her offers to program the Serenade in the past. Concertos from the standard repertoire such as Beethoven, Brahms, Sibelius, and Tchaikovsky are works that she said are free of extra fees, making them attractive for orchestras to program.

Barber’s Concerto for Violin and Orchestra (1939) is an American work that is now a staple of the standard violin repertoire. Composed in the same era as the Serenade, it is written in a neoromantic style. Midori referenced Barber’s lyrically accessible writing as having factored into why his concerto is played more often than the Serenade. She recommended that violinists study the Serenade after having first standardized their repertoire lists. Concertos by Brahms, Mendelssohn, and Mozart are examples of works she suggested violinists learn prior to the Serenade, although she did not feel there was an exact time when it should be studied.

3.7.4 Gary Levinson Levinson remarked that the Serenade was still an odd repertoire choice for violinists while Bernstein was alive: “Even though the Serenade is not played very much, more people play it now than they did back then actually. In those days, I could probably count on one hand the violinists who performed it regularly” (Levinson). Levinson disagreed with the notion that the Serenade is an elitist piece due to its philosophical thematic basis. He identified its similarities with the melodic content of West Side Story and jazz elements as countering such a position.

Levinson suggested that the work’s academic title can be discouraging for audiences. In spite of any negative connotations or confusion deriving from its title, he speculated that the concerto’s peculiar orchestration is responsible for its lack of popularity over any other factor:

My least favorite part of the Serenade is its title. However, I don’t know that it would be received any differently with another one. I think you could call it anything. It’s more the fact that the Serenade is for string orchestra, harp, and percussion. It’s almost the kind of orchestration that you would expect for a tuba concerto, so the soloist doesn’t get covered. It’s very unusual for a violin concerto and this can turn audiences away from it. (Levinson)

Similar to Dicterow, Levinson suspected that the concerto’s technical difficulty and anomalous musical style has played a defining role in its exclusion from the standard violin repertoire:

54 A large part of why violinists don’t learn the piece very often is because it’s so technically awkward. Bernstein’s musical style here is very difficult to understand. It takes a lot of commitment. Bruch Concerto? Who doesn’t get it. If you’re a good violinist, you really don’t have to put out for any of the good Romantic concertos. You have to create and craft every single note in this piece in order for it to be effective. The performer can’t go on automatic pilot here. On top of that, it’s got a virtuosic percussion part. A lot of conductors don’t feel like learning it, frankly. (Levinson)

Levinson said that Bernstein was among a handful of composers whose works were neglected due to a rejection of tonality in the mid-twentieth century and a general disdain for popular music: “Every Hollywood and Broadway composer in the 1940s and 1950s really couldn’t get the time of day. They were seen as very unappealing” (Levinson). Citing examples of this phenomenon within the violin repertoire, Levinson mentioned the Rózsa and Korngold concertos as examples of works that were dismissed by critics despite being championed by revered violinist Jascha Heifetz.

According to Levinson, Bernstein’s enormous success as a composer of Broadway musicals ultimately hindered the Serenade: “I think a major reason why the Serenade had a slow beginning is because it was written by Bernstein, who was known for writing musicals. Lenny’s success as a conductor also worked against him as a composer, because everybody wants to pigeon hole you” (Levinson). Levinson maintained that the Serenade is one of Bernstein’s strongest works and acknowledged the immense period of creativity he was experiencing when it was written:

If we are to accept the notion that for whatever reason Bernstein’s creativity dried up later in life, I think we need to agree that the period this piece was published in was by far his most creative. His output in the 1950s such as West Side Story and the Serenade was the best work he ever did compositionally. (Levinson)

Regardless of its unorthodox characteristics, Levinson believed that the Serenade deserves increased attention from violinists in the twenty-first century:

I would encourage people who don’t like the Serenade to think of it this way: enough important violinists and conductors think that this is a great piece to ask me the question: ‘What am I missing?’ Don’t just dismiss it because you don’t like it at first glance. It’s a technically awkward piece, but in a way that is still very much worth doing. (Levinson)

55 3.7.5 Findings Dicterow and Levinson provided me with thought-provoking opinions on why the work has found difficulty in gaining popularity with violinists and audiences throughout the years since its premiere. I had suspected from my own experience with the piece that audiences were discouraged by its thematic basis and uncommon title. As I executed my study of literature on the Serenade, I realized the extent to which Bernstein’s compositional style and output affected how the concerto has continued to be perceived. Dicterow and Levinson supported this by explaining the extent to which Bernstein was dismissed for his success as a composer of Broadway musicals and Hollywood films. Dicterow additionally pointed out the role the twelve-tone revolution played in causing Bernstein’s lyrical writing to be seen as irrelevant and out of style at the time.

Dicterow saw the concerto’s technical impediments, unusual form, and thematic basis as the principal reasons for its exclusion from the standard violin repertoire. Levinson also cited these factors and discussed the progressive decline of Bernstein’s compositional output. He noted that many of Bernstein’s works became increasingly neglected as the composer produced a greater number of pieces that were widely panned by critics. I was intrigued to discuss with Levinson the notion that both Bernstein and Stern’s global fame was not powerful enough to cause the Serenade to attract wider attention and praise at the time of its premiere. The connection Levinson made between violin concertos written by Hollywood composers of the same era which were championed by Jascha Heifetz and the Serenade caused me to agree with him that Bernstein’s commercial success was a substantial reason for the work’s difficulty in achieving wider acclaim and a place within the standard violin repertoire.

The perspectives of my research participants influenced the development of my interpretation through the ways in which I sought to give a performance with orchestra that focused on accentuating the Serenade’s musical character and depth beyond neoclassicism. Dicterow and Levinson spoke at length on the lack of interpretive and technical accessibility in the concerto, which has often caused it to be ineffective with audiences in many concert settings. This filtered into my comparative score analysis, which aimed to select aspects of the original orchestral manuscript and the Boosey & Hawkes edition that best serve violinists in making the concerto more appealing and inviting for listeners. Since my examination of the two scores occurred after the completion of the interviews and lessons with my research participants, I brought to my analysis a considerable range of new knowledge on the historical, interpretive, and technical issues violinists face when making musical decisions in the Serenade.

56 3.8 Concluding Remarks The interviews and lessons undertaken with my research participants were a key component of this project. The documentation of their knowledge provides historical firsthand perspectives from distinguished musicians who had close personal and professional relationships with Bernstein. Having the ability to benefit from each participant’s expertise was central to the development of my interpretation. Through these interviews, I sought to discover insights into why the Serenade is not yet a part of the standard violin repertoire. I additionally aimed to learn about Dicterow, Levinson, and Midori’s experiences of studying and performing the work with the composer. One of the main points I took away from the interviews and lessons was Bernstein’s affinity for the Serenade and the vibrancy he desired from the solo violin part.

Midori’s connection with Bernstein and the Serenade is particularly significant, as her storied performance of the concerto at Tanglewood in 1986 has led her to be closely associated with the piece. Having the opportunity to interview and take lessons with Midori encouraged me to explore the Serenade in greater detail. She discussed areas of technical execution and interpretation that helped focus my practice upon my return to Brisbane. I was struck by her memories of performing with Bernstein only several months before his death. Dicterow had the rare privilege of performing with Bernstein as both concertmaster and soloist. While on tour, Dicterow had interactions with the composer that shed important light onto his interpretive conception of the work.

Levinson never performed the Serenade with Bernstein but spent a substantial amount of time studying the concerto with him. His memories of these coaching sessions were a vital resource for my exploration into matters of technical execution and interpretation. Jamie Bernstein described her experience with the Serenade as being limited to an admirer of the piece, but I nonetheless found her comments illuminating. Her insightful description of the Serenade as an “eccentric violin concerto” is an ideal way to describe the work when considering its complex structural and stylistic features (J. Bernstein). The concerto’s perplexing style has long caused musicians and scholars to debate how it should be interpreted.

Jamie Bernstein shared her opinion that the Serenade does not need to adhere to one stylistic construct due to its inherent versatility, which I strongly agree with. Both Levinson and Midori encouraged me to explore the different possibilities violinists have when crafting an interpretation. This allowed me to experiment with varying interpretive and technical approaches in my practice sessions. Moreover, all three violinists emphasized accentuating the work’s jazz traits in the first and fifth movements in order to achieve a successful interpretation. Following an analysis of the

57 data I collected via the interviews and lessons, I determined that the concerto’s unique musical character combined with its unusual thematic basis has contributed to its underperformance. This is substantiated by the lack of violinists who have performed the concerto over the years since its premiere, as noted by Dicterow and Levinson.

Furthermore, lasting stereotypes of Bernstein being mainly a Broadway composer have prevented the Serenade from achieving a place in the standard violin repertoire. The minimal popularity many of Bernstein’s compositions have received apart from his musicals directly relates to a commonly held belief that he was not a composer of serious classical music. This has factored into why the Serenade has been overlooked by many violinists, especially within the context of twentieth century violin concertos. Another reason for why the work has not achieved wider recognition is its peculiar title. Listeners are often puzzled by this anomaly, as ‘serenade’ is typically a term that is generally reserved for ensemble pieces rather than instrumental concertos.

Jamie Bernstein, Dicterow, Levinson, and Midori helped to support the views I arrived at in my study of the Serenade. Bernstein’s diverse artistic output made him unconventional when compared to many of his peers. The Serenade is an excellent example of how Bernstein pushed traditional boundaries when composing. Due to the fact that the modern and contemporary violin repertoire has expanded exponentially since its premiere, I believe that audiences and critics in the twenty-first century are better equipped to appreciate the distinctive characteristics that make the Serenade such an excellent example of Bernstein’s compositional prowess. This makes the timing of his centennial particularly fitting for violinists to take up the concerto and introduce it to new audiences.

After consulting with Jamie Bernstein, I have concluded that the Serenade is indeed a violin concerto. I find the Serenade to be comparable to Édouard Lalo’s Symphonie Espagnole, a concerto for violin and orchestra in five-movements that also lacks the word ‘concerto’ in its title. The Serenade is almost thirty minutes in length, so I find it difficult to qualify it as a virtuosic concert piece in the vein of Pablo de Sarasate’s Carmen Fantasy, another five-movement work for violin and orchestra. However, this is not of great importance since Bernstein’s selection of the concerto’s title can be likely attributed to the etymology of the word ‘serenade’ as it relates to love, the main theme of the Symposium. He insisted that he had initially named the work Symposium.

I concur with my research participants that the association between the Serenade and the Symposium is helpful to recognize but not essential to consider when studying the piece. Violinists would be wise to read the Symposium and understand how the speakers broadly relate to the

58 concerto, but Bernstein is clear in the preface to the score that its literary allusions are loosely based. I have read the Symposium several times and find that doing so personally aided me in understanding minor nuances of its relationship with the Serenade, notably in the fifth movement during the raucous entrance of Alcibiades and his comrades. However, since the concerto deviates from the events of the Symposium markedly, the correlations that can be made should not be perceived as programmatic representations of the dialogue.

Bernstein writes in the preface to the score that Aristophanes in particular differs from the content of the philosopher’s speech at the banquet. I share Jamie Bernstein’s view that any discourse over the Serenade’s connection with the Symposium is ultimately unimportant. She is correct that the work can be wholly enjoyed and appreciated as an independent piece of music apart from its connection with philosophy and the characters of the Symposium. This view was supported by Dicterow and Levinson, who expressed their opinions that Bernstein was encouraging of different interpretations of the Serenade based on their personal interactions with the composer. Violinists should refrain from feeling restricted by a need to situate the movements within an individual speaker’s statements or persona when crafting their interpretations, as expressed by Dicterow, Levinson, and Midori.

This high level of artistic freedom encouraged by Levinson and Midori in our lessons together defined my interpretive process and how I chose to perform the Serenade during my final performance of this thesis project with The University of Queensland Symphony Orchestra at the Queensland Performing Arts Centre in October 2018. The video recorded performance which accompanies this exegesis reflects the interpretive choices I made that were directly influenced by the interviews and lessons executed with my research participants in addition to my comparative analysis of Bernstein’s holograph orchestral manuscript with the Boosey & Hawkes edition. When approaching my examination of the two scores, the knowledge I obtained through the interviews and lessons with my research participants played a consequential role in how I executed my analysis in relation to selecting interpretive and technical markings that would facilitate violinists in mastering the Serenade’s formidable challenges.

59 Chapter 4: Bernstein’s Manuscript vs. Boosey & Hawkes Edition

This chapter analyzes differences between Bernstein’s holograph orchestral manuscript and the Boosey & Hawkes edition of the Serenade edited and fingered by Isaac Stern in order to determine which aspects of each score best contribute to an effective interpretation. The dissimilarities identified pertain to articulations, bowings, dynamics, expressive markings, and musical terminologies. My findings are derived from my individual practice in conjunction with my examination of the manuscript at the Library of Congress in Washington D.C. The purpose of this chapter is to demonstrate how my analysis of both scores led me to make critical interpretive and technical decisions across the concerto while preparing for my culminating thesis performance with The University of Queensland Symphony Orchestra at the Queensland Performing Arts Centre.

4.1 Score Analysis Numerous incongruities emerge when comparing Bernstein’s manuscript with the Boosey & Hawkes edition of the Serenade. There are no other editions currently available, so violinists have thus far solely used the Boosey & Hawkes edition. This has caused it to have become closely connected with interpretive and technical traditions associated with the concerto. Since the original manuscript has not yet been published, violinists have previously been unaware of the disparities existing between the two scores. Some of these discrepancies have a substantial impact on how key passages are executed. This prompted me to investigate which facets of each score most effectively aid violinists in mastering the work’s interpretive and technical challenges.

The manuscript I studied at the Library Congress is the only holograph orchestral score of the Serenade available (L. Bernstein, “Manuscript”). The differences I found in the manuscript are useful in arriving at an interpretation that is not overly imbedded in the markings of the Boosey & Hawkes edition. There is no documentation existing in the Leonard Bernstein or Isaac Stern collections at the Library of Congress involving correspondences between the musicians while the Serenade was being written. However, there are two short letters in the Leonard Bernstein Collection from the period between the composition of the Serenade and the release of the first edition. They were written by Stern to Bernstein on October 30, 1954 and June 24, 1955 respectively. The letters provide brief insights into what their level of communication was as the first edition was being prepared.

In the first letter written from London approximately one month after the work’s premiere in Venice, Stern asks Bernstein if he has any plans concerning the orchestration of the Serenade

60 (Stern, “Letter” 1954). Stern briefly mentions the possibility of cuts, enharmonic changes, and reversing the roles of the solo violin part and the orchestral accompaniment in Erixymathus without going into specific detail (Stern, “Letter” 1954). In the second letter written from Paris, Stern says that the version Bernstein has does not include several changes and corrections they made together at the time of the premiere (Stern, “Letter” 1955). It is likely that there were more conversations by telephone or mail that took place. Unfortunately, no additional materials related to these potential correspondences are available at the time of this writing.

My estimation of the extent of Bernstein and Stern’s editorial collaboration is based on the two letters I reviewed at the Library of Congress. I cannot confirm which changes in the Boosey & Hawkes edition were made exclusively by Stern in terms of bowings and fingerings, but it can be safely assumed that the majority of the markings reflect his personal choices due to his position as the editor. Understanding Bernstein’s preliminary conception of the solo violin part prior to receiving Stern’s input provides new avenues in which to examine the Boosey & Hawkes edition and its impact on the work’s interpretive and technical challenges. Since I am unable to include scans of Bernstein’s manuscript in this exegesis, I have paid careful attention to accurately describing his markings and their precise locations within the score.

While I do not seek to definitively identify which changes were made by Bernstein or Stern within the Boosey & Hawkes edition, the recommendations I give on which parts of the score should be followed by violinists were formed by my individual practice in combination with the lessons I took with Levinson and Midori. Since the manuscript was written independently from Stern’s input, my analysis of Bernstein’s writing in the manuscript can be exclusively linked to him. However, my analysis related to the Boosey & Hawkes edition does not look to make exact judgements on which particular changes Bernstein or Stern made in the edition, but rather to elucidate how my study of the work led me to identify the strengths of each score through my research activities. I describe how my individual preferences for components of both scores shaped the interpretation reflected in my performance of the Serenade with the UQ Symphony Orchestra in October 2018.

4.1.1 Phaedrus: Pausanias The Boosey & Hawkes edition indicates simply, molto legato senza portamento in m. 1 while the manuscript only displays simply. A slight level of separation between each slur allows for a more reverent quality to inhabit the character of the opening phrase. The manuscript permits for greater artistic license to be taken in this instance. Bernstein refrains from slurring the third beat of m. 2 in the manuscript. I recommend adhering to the edition’s bowing since the majority of the phrase

61 occurs in slurred gestures. Separating the notes causes an articulation that is out of stylistic context with the rest of the passage (see Ex. 4).

In mm. 3-9 of the edition, the crescendo and decrescendo markings, più p, and un poco meno p do not appear in the manuscript. Although I agree with the inclusion of these directions for the purpose of shaping the phrase, it is interesting to note that Bernstein was not explicit here. Violinists should feel comfortable following these indications as they are well-thought-out and appropriate within the framework of the passage. However, violinists should look to experiment with alternative ways of crafting the phrase since Bernstein’s writing naturally lends itself to a variety of interpretive possibilities (see Ex. 4).

Ex. 4. Phaedrus: Pausanias, mm. 1-10 (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Solo Violin Part)” 1)

The manuscript does not include a staccato marking on the first sixteenth note F♯ on the third beat in m. 15. This is important to observe since it is a commonly played articulation. The absence of this staccato in the manuscript makes it likely that Bernstein desired a more legato line in the measure, which creates a smoothness that helps propel the crescendo’s intensity forward. In m. 16, the tenuti that appear above the sixteenth note C♯ on the second beat and the sixteenth note C♯ on the fourth beat are not in the manuscript. Refraining from observing these tenuti frees violinists from having to use a large amount of bow in order to lengthen the note, which can cause the phrase to become uneven. The solo violin part flows more naturally without the edition’s added articulations (see Ex. 5).

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Ex. 5. Phaedrus: Pausanias, mm. 15-18 (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Solo Violin Part)” 1)

Measures 28-29 include the first examples of different notes occurring between the manuscript and the edition. The manuscript displays a harmonic over the lower half note A in m. 28 and subsequently continues with a harmonic over the upper eighth note A in m. 29. Bernstein’s inclusion of an octave that transitions to a single quarter note in the eighth position was likely made to enhance its climactic energy. It is plausible that Bernstein changed these notes after receiving Stern’s input (see Ex. 6).

Ex. 6. Phaedrus: Pausanias, mm. 27-34 (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Solo Violin Part)” 1)

In m. 38, the manuscript slurs the second beat. It is possible that Stern removed this slur as it is technically precarious to slide up to the eighth note A harmonic on a down-bow. It is more practical to split the slur as evident in the edition. In contrast, m. 39 has a slur on the second beat that is not in the manuscript. There is also no slur in m. 40 on the second beat or on the first beat of m. 41. This absence of slurs continues across mm. 43-51. It appears that Stern might have been aiming to ensure that his bowings are easier to follow. Executing the phrase without the slurs is an interesting experiment, as it becomes heavier and more irreverent when they are removed (see Ex. 7).

Violinists with an adept bow technique can successfully mimic these qualities while following the edition’s markings, but there is a degree of playfulness that is lost when this course of action is taken. The manuscript lacks a slur on the final two double stops on the first beat in m. 53, and again on the last three double stops along the first and second beats of m. 54. The slurs make the passage more technically manageable, but it is advisable to notice the change in character that occurs when the notes are played as written in the manuscript. I find that an element of spiritedness should be incorporated, which leads me to follow the manuscript in this case (see Ex. 7).

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Ex. 7. Phaedrus: Pausanias, mm. 35-56 (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Solo Violin Part)” 2)

All of the crescendo and decrescendo markings commencing with the pickup to m. 70 and extending through m. 73 are not in the manuscript. They are commonly played and cause violinists to lean in and out of the phrase, which can create a slight distortion in the sound. The delicateness of the phrase is better left to a carefully implemented p as per the manuscript. Bernstein does not write an accent on the third beat of m. 73. This facilitates violinists in achieving a consistent tone that is more aligned with its light-hearted mood. Bernstein refrains from writing a staccato marking on the eighth note D on the upbeat to m. 75 as seen in the edition (see Ex. 8).

This justifies reconsidering the length of the note due to the fact that Bernstein writes staccato and legato markings throughout the remainder of the phrase. Since this note is played on an up-bow, it will naturally have a shorter approach from the right hand. It is advisable to not play it briskly, as doing so takes away from the dolce con grazioso Bernstein instructs. In m. 77, Bernstein slurs the first beat in the manuscript, which complements its gracefulness. The edition’s splitting of these two eighth notes is more appropriate for earlier phrases in the movement (see Ex. 8).

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Ex. 8. Phaedrus: Pausanias, mm. 65-78 (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Solo Violin Part)” 2)

It is interesting to view that the dynamic at m. 90 was altered from forte espressivo in the manuscript to mezzo forte espressivo in the edition. Additionally, there is an accent on the ninth in m. 91 that does not appear in the manuscript. It is plausible that this was added in order to create a greater level of dynamic contrast, as these markings make it possible for the incorporation of additional tonal vibrancy. However, it is clear in the manuscript that Bernstein originally wanted the emphasis to be on the octave as opposed to the ninth. Not accenting the ninth enhances the passage’s jazziness by creating a swinging gesture (see Ex. 9).

Ex. 9. Phaedrus: Pausanias, mm. 90-95 (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Solo Violin Part)” 2)

In m. 156, the manuscript does not accent the eighth note D♭ on the first beat or the eighth note B♭ on the second beat. It is worthwhile mentioning that Bernstein writes dolce at the beginning of the measure, which causes the accents found in the Boosey & Hawkes edition to contradict his initial intent for the phrase. This signals that a high degree of lyricism should be brought forth by the solo violin. Following Bernstein’s markings prevents the phrase’s natural rhythmic impulse from being unduly hindered (see Ex. 10).

Ex. 10. Phaedrus: Pausanias, mm. 152-158 (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Solo Violin Part)” 4)

65 Bernstein slurs the second beat of m. 167 and proceeds to write a tenuto on the ninth as well as the octave in the next measure. This proves contrary to the edition, which separates the second beat and accents both the double stopped ninth and octave. Playing these measures as written by Bernstein causes them to not be as angular. While there is an emphatic quality to the phrase, it is more unrestrained than in the edition. Adhering to the manuscript in this instance is wise since separating or accenting the notes restricts the section’s liveliness (see Ex. 11).

Ex. 11. Phaedrus: Pausanias, mm. 164-169 (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Solo Violin Part)” 4)

In the final measure of the movement, Bernstein slurs the first beat and places an accent on the eighth note C♯ in the manuscript. This is a prime example of Bernstein’s apparent conception of the movement. His markings in the manuscript are less musically assertive than in the edition, which accents both eighth notes on the first beat and indicates that they should be played separately. Although the phrase eventually builds to a fff, it is not necessarily a directive of force. A sense of vigor should be incorporated at the end of the movement, but this needs to remain within its generally light-hearted character (see Ex. 12).

Ex. 12. Phaedrus: Pausanias, mm. 213-219 (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Solo Violin Part)” 4)

4.1.2 Aristophanes A striking difference between the manuscript and the edition is that the manuscript does not require the violin to be muted in the opening of Aristophanes. This has been a worthwhile discovery for me, as I have long questioned the necessity of utilizing a mute here. The mute evokes a whimsical tone color, but I find that it muffles the resonance of the double stops and impedes the phrase’s technical ease. In m. 7, Bernstein does not write tenuti on the double stops on the second beat in the manuscript. This also applies to the tenuti that appear on the double stops in m. 8 and the first beat of m. 9 (see Ex. 13).

66 This is noteworthy because the use of tenuti is a common interpretive tradition that I have found across recordings of the concerto. Their absence from the manuscript supports my belief that they detract from the lyricism Bernstein desires, particularly due to his expressive indications of grazioso and warmly. On the second beat of m. 10, the manuscript does not slur the second beat. Instead of the edition’s combined slurring of the first three double stops in mm. 11-12, Bernstein slurs both double stops in each measure. This alters the pacing of the phrase, giving it more lyrical coherence since not slurring the double stop on the second beat can lead violinists to play an undesired accent (see Ex. 13).

Ex. 13. Aristophanes, mm. 1-16 (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Solo Violin Part)” 5)

Passages in which Bernstein incorporates bowings in the manuscript are worth noting since they appear so infrequently. In m. 26, Bernstein indicates an up-bow on the second beat. This is significant because there is a down-bow written in the edition. Such a bowing is complex, as it causes violinists to lift the bow and reset it since the previous measure ends on a down-bow. It is technically apt to follow Bernstein’s original marking, which has violinists play the second beat of m. 33 on a down-bow. Bernstein again differs from the edition at m. 40, writing a down-bow on the second beat as opposed to an up-bow. It is likely that Stern made this change in order to help violinists achieve a more economical bow division. However, it is wiser to hold the bow for the length of the slurred half notes. Splitting the bowing will create an audible bow change that will disrupt how the phrase concludes (see Ex. 14).

It should not prove difficult for violinists to save the bow in this passage. The utilization of a single stroke aids in achieving a sudden decrease in volume. This will allow for an effective diminuendo before the phrase erupts at m. 47. The manuscript lacks a decrescendo on the second beat of m. 40 in addition to directing dim. subito unlike the dim. molto in the edition. While these are similar terms, there is a distinction as to how violinists will execute the specific nuance of each. The implementation of a dim. subito is more of an indicator that the dynamic transition should happen

67 immediately. Bernstein’s marking in the manuscript shows that there needs to be an instant reduction in sound rather than one that is even minimally gradual (see Ex. 14).

Ex. 14. Aristophanes, mm. 17-46 (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Solo Violin Part)” 5)

In m. 47, Bernstein writes a minor third consisting of an E and a G in the manuscript while a tenth appears in the edition. There is more potential for intensity and drama in the quick dynamic change from pp to ff through the use of a tenth. There is additionally a decrescendo marked in m. 55 instead of the edition’s inclusion of a molto dim. This is another example of a seemingly peripheral detail that makes a considerable interpretive difference. Although a decrescendo minimizes dynamic volume, it is less indicative of a dramatic reduction of sound than the edition’s molto dim. suggests. I have found that following Bernstein’s decrescendo enhances the phrase’s lyricism (see Ex. 15).

The manuscript slurs the double stops in mm. 58-59 while the edition splits them. The transition from the minor third to a unison is technically challenging and requires an extension. Bernstein’s choice to slur these notes is an example of his desire for violinists to take a smoother melodic approach in the movement. The manuscript does not contain the markings poch. rall. or a tempo in mm. 64-65 as seen in the edition. This is an instance when I feel that the edition’s markings are more interpretively advantageous. A rapid diminution of speed provides a smoother transition to the final measures of the phrase, enabling a helpful moment of pause to occur (see Ex. 15).

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Ex. 15. Aristophanes, mm. 47-65 (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Solo Violin Part)” 5)

Measure 78 introduces a variation in the notes between the manuscript and the edition. In mm. 78- 81, Bernstein writes the perfect fourths and minor thirds an octave higher. The orchestra’s first violin section plays an identical passage prior to the solo violin’s entrance an octave lower, so it appears that Stern might have preferred matching the first violin part since it is technically uncomfortable to play the double stops up an octave. An important discrepancy involving interpretive markings in the movement is the absence of tenuti in mm. 82-87. Bernstein writes a staccato articulation on every eighth note, which is a pronounced disparity between the manuscript and the edition. It is quite common for violinists to adhere to these tenuti. Therefore, playing them with a staccato stroke changes the phrases character by causing it to be spritelier and more emphatic (see Ex. 16).

Ma non troppo secco was added after scherzando in the edition in mm. 82-83. This instructs violinists that they should not play the notes very short. However, it is seemingly Bernstein’s original intention for the stroke to be played staccato without any indication of extreme shortness. He does not write a crescendo along mm. 93-94 as evident in the edition. Bernstein subsequently marks the triplet in m. 94 mp sub. instead of p sub. I favor the edition’s markings, as they give a clearer sense of shape to the phrase. Furthermore, they create a powerful dynamic contrast that better suits its playful nature. It is noteworthy that the manuscript does not contain a poco rall. in m. 96. This is interesting to consider because violinists often begin to decrease in speed at this point in the movement (see Ex. 16).

It is my preference to only make a slight rallentando since the forward-motion of the passage should not be impeded. However, its utilization or lack thereof is not consequential to the phrase. Bernstein’s pattern of differing articulations continues starting with the pickup to m. 96, where he does not write any tenuti on the eighth note E♭ or the G♭ that proceeds it. Bernstein places accents on both notes and no staccato articulations. While the accent on the E♭ appears in the score, it is

69 accompanied by a tenuto. An accent paired with a tenuto indicates that it is not meant to be abruptly placed (see Ex. 16).

Bernstein interestingly uses several English words in the Serenade to signal musical phrasings. In m. 98, he writes warmly. The edition adds the word legato after warmly. Bernstein does not include poco largamente in parenthesis after the a tempo in m. 98 in the manuscript. Violinists often broaden the phrase here in a manner that exceeds Bernstein’s tenuti. I take no issue with this but believe that such an action should be implemented sparingly. Although it can be argued that Bernstein’s inclusion of an a tempo already slows down the phrase, there is a recognizable distinction between broadening the bow stroke and altering the tempo (see Ex. 16).

Ex. 16. Aristophanes, mm. 78-99 (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Solo Violin Part)” 6)

Bernstein incorporates staccato markings on the second octave of each triplet figure in m. 108 in the manuscript. It is common for violinists to lengthen these two octaves, so Bernstein’s staccato markings are necessary in order to properly distinguish them. In m. 111, there is no accent on the octave on the second beat of the measure in the manuscript. It is common for violinists to play this note accented and removing it significantly alters how the phrase ends. Playing the octave without an accent facilitates a quicker differentiation in character that allows for a more seamless transition to the harmonic (see Ex. 17).

70 Another dissimilarity with respect to notes in the manuscript and the edition occurs beginning with the pickup to m. 114. Stern might have asked Bernstein to rewrite the phrase in order to increase its playability. Similar to the passage discussed at m. 78, this is an instance where the perfect fourth and minor third are taken down an octave in the edition. I would advise violinists to follow the edition in both cases since playing the double stops up an octave makes them technically problematic and tonally out of context within the phrase’s musical structure (see Ex. 17).

Ex. 17. Aristophanes, mm. 105-124 (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Solo Violin Part)” 6)

Instead of the decrescendo present in mm. 133-134 of the edition, Bernstein indicates diminuendo in the manuscript, which can be interpreted differently to a standard decrescendo. I view Bernstein’s diminuendo as being more gradual. Bernstein does not stipulate p in m. 135 as per the edition. The edition’s decrescendo allows for the phrase to dissipate effectively, but Bernstein’s initial direction creates a difference in dynamic that is more suited to the movement’s eccentric nature. Beginning at m. 137, there is a major disparity between the manuscript and edition. It is unknown whether Stern requested these edits himself. In the manuscript, Bernstein writes passagework that is lengthier and less concise. Before arriving at the second beat of m. 141, Bernstein takes the solo violin part along an array of wandering phrases (see Ex. 18).

Bernstein continues the double stops in an interesting variation, taking several up an octave. He then returns to an earlier melody found in the opening of the movement, including a lyrical passage occurring solely on the G string. After playing through these discarded phrases, I believe that Bernstein was correct to revise this section and reduce its length. Bernstein’s original writing is technically awkward and less straightforward than what is in the edition. I suspect that Stern gave input into Bernstein’s decision to alter this section of Aristophanes. What ultimately appears in the edition is better fitted within the overall movement’s character. Bernstein does not slur mm. 169-

71 170 in the manuscript. Stern’s bowing is more conducive to the phrase’s inherent lyricism, as there is no need to separate the notes in a passage that is otherwise entirely slurred. However, removing the slur adds a broadness to the stroke due to the bow change required (see Ex. 18).

Ex. 18. Aristophanes, mm. 132-173 (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Solo Violin Part)” 7)

4.1.3 Erixymathus In m. 6, Bernstein slurs the last four sixteenth notes together. This necessitates that violinists engage a flying staccato. In the next two measures, the edition marks a flying staccato for the last seven sixteenth notes. This is technically valid as the inclusion of a decrescendo is ideal when using such a stroke. Flying staccato is difficult to execute cleanly. This leads me to find that playing the last seven sixteenth notes separately as the manuscript directs is more technically manageable. In m. 18, a similar moment occurs in which the edition indicates a flying staccato across the last seven sixteenth notes extending into m. 19. Bernstein’s slurring of the first two sixteenth notes on the first beats of mm. 16-18 followed by playing the remaining sixteenth notes separately is a bowing that is more technically secure but primarily aids violinists in adding melodic shape to the phrase. This benefits the character of the line since the alternating articulations bring greater interpretive variety to the gesture (see Ex. 19).

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Ex. 19. Erixymathus, mm. 1-24 (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Solo Violin Part)” 7)

Measure 25 introduces a pronounced difference between the manuscript and the edition. In the manuscript, Bernstein does not write any slurs until m. 30. Many violinists implement the edition’s slurs in this passage, so Bernstein’s intent to have the notes played separately is unprecedented. Although Stern might have sought to unify the articulations in the movement, it is fascinating to consider that Bernstein originally chose to have violinists play these notes separately. I advocate for Bernstein’s markings in the manuscript as I find they provide a contrast in mood that effectively allows violinists to bring out the movement’s frenetic energy. Additionally, the slurs occurring in mm. 28-29 in the edition are technically unreliable because they entail rapidly alternating string crossings that are easily muddled due to the complex bow technique required (see Ex. 20).

Ex. 20. Erixymathus, mm. 25-32 (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Solo Violin Part)” 8)

Within the manuscript, Bernstein places tenuti on every sixteenth note beginning on the second beat of m. 42 and continuing through the first beat of m. 43. This is the only time Bernstein utilizes tenuti in the movement. Since playing these tenuti can inhibit the momentum of the phrase, it is

73 understandable as to why they do not appear in the edition. However, they add an emphatic quality that I find to be beneficial to the movement’s intense character. Bernstein later places individual slurs on the first and second beats of m. 44 instead of the edition’s slurring of them together. Following Bernstein’s markings gives a greater sense of shape in addition to matching identical slurs that appear in m. 46 but are not altered in the edition (see Ex. 21).

Ex. 21. Erixymathus, mm. 41-48 (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Solo Violin Part)” 8)

An intriguing detail in the edition regarding dynamics occurs in m. 55, where p legato is written as opposed to f spiccato in the manuscript. Playing this passage legato is a common interpretive tradition among violinists that I have observed. Therefore, engaging a spiccato stroke affects the passage by making it feel more forward-moving rather than heavy. I do not object to either stroke but find that Bernstein’s f spiccato better relates to the movement’s previous staccato and spiccato articulations. In the manuscript, Bernstein ends the phrase at m. 61 with a half note C♮ tied to an eighth note C♮ into m. 62 (instead of a single eighth note C♮). I recommend adhering to the eighth note C♮ that appears in the edition since holding the note longer does not match the identical rhythmic figures that precede it (see Ex. 22).

Ex. 22. Erixymathus, mm. 49-67 (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Solo Violin Part)” 8)

74 A common interpretive tradition associated with the movement is the playing of mm. 69-74 sul ponticello. Bernstein does not indicate this extended technique in the manuscript, but it is a tonal feature that adds an aura of mysteriousness to the ending that is highly effective. Bernstein slurs each group of four sixteenth notes in mm. 83-85. This is identical to his similar grouping of the sixteenth notes in m. 81, which are not modified in the edition. I advise using Stern’s bowings due to their technical practicality and interpretive merit. It is likely that Stern suggested this upon experimenting with tone colors (see Ex. 23).

Ex. 23. Erixymathus, mm. 68-91 (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Solo Violin Part)” 9)

4.1.4 Agathon In m. 2, the manuscript does not display a decrescendo on the final two eighth notes. Bernstein then refrains from writing pp

Bernstein does not separate the dotted sixteenth note E on the fourth beat of m. 9 in the manuscript. Separating the E causes a break in the phrase that Bernstein was likely not intending. Beginning with the sixteenth note C at the end of m. 12, Bernstein writes a slur through the eighth note F at the end of m. 13. He does not slur the eighth note F with the eighth note E on the first beat of m. 14 but

75 instead continues to slur the eighth note E with the following eighth note D. In another slur contrary to the edition, Bernstein slurs the next sixteenth note C with the eighth note G that proceeds it. Bernstein continues this pattern of slurring two note pairs by way of the eighth note F at the conclusion of m. 15 with the eighth note E on the first beat of m. 16 (see Ex. 24).

The edition’s bowings continue to differ from the manuscript in m. 18, where Bernstein slurs the first three beats before slurring the prior two. While the smaller slurs appear in the manuscript, it is possible that he sought for them to be played with one stroke rather than separately. Shortly after, Bernstein slurs the dotted sixteenth note C on the third beat of m. 19 through the first thirty-second note D in m. 20. He then slurs the second thirty-second note D to the end of the measure. Bernstein also slurs all of m. 23. The edition separates the sixteenth note F in m. 24 and the dotted eighth note D in m. 25 while the manuscript slurs them. These discrepancies regarding slurs are critically important because they determine the shape and course of the aforementioned phrases, especially in instances where the edition’s markings cause breaks in the sound from the separation of certain notes (see Ex. 24).

It is not unusual that Stern decided to modify Bernstein’s bowings in this movement, as it can prove difficult to play them as written due to the physical limitations of the bow arm. It is challenging to play such long lines with a sustained sound at a slow tempo while adequately emphasizing key notes. In order to navigate such a slow tempo, the edition creates a sense of forward motion by altering Bernstein’s markings and giving violinists the opportunity to add necessary lyricism via the additional bowings included. I prefer using the Boosey & Hawkes edition’s bowings in this passage. Considering Bernstein’s original markings is worthwhile as they help to enhance the phrase’s natural connectedness. This will greatly assist violinists in ensuring that they execute smooth bow changes (see Ex. 24).

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Ex. 24. Agathon, mm. 1-27 (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Solo Violin Part)” 9)

Bernstein writes one of only several bowings in the manuscript in the opening of the cadenza in m. 36. Here, he marks an up-bow as opposed to the edition’s down-bow. Later in the measure, Bernstein implements a slur above the individually slurred pairs of thirty-second notes that immediately follow the minor sixth consisting of a C♮ and A♭. At the end of the measure, he slurs the final three thirty-second notes while the edition keeps them separated. The edition’s bowings in this passage are an example of bowings that can disrupt the lyricism Bernstein has imbedded in the phrase. I do not advise against using any of Stern’s bowings, but violinists should consider Bernstein’s intent for the phrase to be smooth and elongated (see Ex. 25).

Bernstein writes another bowing in the manuscript in m. 37. He places a double down-bow across both successive tenths after the rall. in advance of slurring together the final two thirty-second note double stops comprising of a perfect fifth and a minor third (prior to the poco meno). This is a suitable bowing because it permits for a separation to occur in both tenths without causing them to sound angular as when opposite bowings are chosen. The edition’s bowings have the potential to disrupt the technical flow of the double stops. The slurring of the thirty-second note double stops adds a dream-like quality to the end of the transition into the next section of the measure, which naturally connects to the final part of the cadenza (see Ex. 25).

77 The manuscript does not include a decrescendo between the eighth note B♮ and sixteenth note C♯ in m. 37. Bernstein puts a decrescendo on the beat immediately preceding the flautando beginning with an augmented fourth. I prefer Bernstein’s use of a decrescendo since it enhances the transition to the flautando by adding a dramatic change of character. Bernstein additionally does not indicate p starting with the augmented fourth, which gives violinists the opportunity to increase the volume of the crescendo. He also marks p under the subsequent minor third. The dynamics found in the manuscript provide greater continuity and melodic direction than that of the edition (see Ex. 25).

Ex. 25. Agathon, mm. 36-37 (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Solo Violin Part)” 10)

The manuscript then ushers in alternative material from what appears in the edition. Bernstein writes a phrase that is similar to the start of the movement. It is significantly longer and contains a large amount of melodic content from Agathon’s introduction before arriving at m. 45, where both scores remain identical. Bernstein’s revised passages in the Boosey & Hawkes edition are well matched with the rest of the movement than what appears in the manuscript. They fit comfortably within its musical arc since they are not repetitive. There are no discernable technical challenges in this section of the manuscript that Stern might have wished to avoid, so this change was likely made in order to better orient it within the context of the movement (see Ex. 26).

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Ex. 26. Agathon, mm. 38-56 (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Solo Violin Part)” 10)

4.1.5 Socrates: Alcibiades In m. 25, the manuscript does not accent the quarter note A. I have noticed in multiple recordings that this note is commonly accented by violinists. It is more ideal to place a small emphasis on the quarter note A rather than a full accent. Doing so causes the phrase to sound distinctly unnatural. The passage is best served when violinists take a less strident approach than what is present in the edition (see Ex. 27).

Ex. 27. Socrates: Alcibiades, mm. 18-25 (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Solo Violin Part)” 11)

The edition slurs the third beat in m. 33, but Bernstein separates the first thirty-second note from the final three. This is a useful bowing to consider because Bernstein’s original recommendation gives an organic sense of breath, but the edition’s is more in line with the passage’s general melodic direction. I have determined that even though Bernstein’s initial marking adds a desirable pause, the edition provides violinists with an opportunity to shape the phrase in a manner that is more sensible. Each bowing holds merit, so either is acceptable for violinists to follow (see Ex. 28).

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Ex. 28. Socrates: Alcibiades, mm. 30-33 (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Solo Violin Part)” 11)

The manuscript slurs the dotted half note A with the quarter note D in m. 37 before splitting the first two beats of m. 39. The bowings in the manuscript are more practical because splitting the notes in m. 37 causes the quarter note D to increase in volume and be extraneously accented. It is interesting that the edition reverses this bowing despite not adding a crescendo. Playing Bernstein’s slurs in the manuscript will ensure that the phrase does not suffer from any undesired rhythmic distortions due to the importance of maintaining a consistent pulse since the material is no longer cadential. In m. 44, Bernstein slurs the first two beats in the manuscript while the edition separates them. I prefer the edition’s bowings, as they better facilitate the pocco. rall. (see Ex. 29).

The edition slurs the three eighth notes proceeding the half note F♮ tied to an eighth note F♮ in m. 48, while Bernstein separates them. The manuscript continues to split the next four eighth notes directly behind the half note E♭ tied to an eighth note E♭. The manuscript slurs all six notes together and the edition goes on to slur the seven subsequent eighth notes. The quarter notes F, D, and E♭ that follow the dotted half note D are also slurred in the manuscript. Bernstein then slurs from the dotted quarter note A through the eighth note F at the end of the measure. Instead of writing a decrescendo beginning with the dotted quarter note A in the edition, Bernstein places it three beats earlier and denotes dim. e rall. molto at the dotted quarter note A (see Ex. 29).

Bernstein’s slurs are yet another example of his desire for a long melodic line, but I find that the edition’s varied bowings give helpful shape and direction. Bernstein’s bowing keeps the phrase rounder, but the edition’s alterations are more violinistic. However, observing Bernstein’s bowings helps to bring out the smoothness of the phrase, which is inherent to its character. Although playing a decrescendo is advisable, it is noteworthy to contemplate whether a sudden decrease in volume could be used in order to capture a greater level of surprise and introspectiveness (see Ex. 29).

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Ex. 29. Socrates: Alcibiades, mm. 37-49 (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Solo Violin Part)” 11)

The manuscript slurs the entirety of mm. 104-107. It is a commonly held technical tradition for violinists to follow the edition’s bowings in this passage. Bernstein’s markings are yet another example of the lyricism he desires from the solo violin. The edition’s bowings give the phrase a buoyant quality and sense of playfulness. Due to the momentum needed to successfully play the scherzando beginning in m. 108, it is advisable to adhere to the edition’s bowings (see Ex. 30).

Ex. 30. Socrates: Alcibiades, mm. 104-113 (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Solo Violin Part)” 12)

Measure 124 introduces one of the Serenade’s most climactic passages. Bernstein begins the decrescendo on the seventh beat of the measure rather than the fourth beat as per the edition. This is important because it impacts the way in which the phrase is driven forward. Executing an immediate decrescendo as suggested by the Boosey & Hawkes edition creates a dramatic variation in dynamic but diminishes the power of the gesture too quickly. The manuscript separates the eighth notes on the fifth and sixth beats of m. 126. The edition’s recommendation allows for the bowing to come out on a down-bow on the rolled double stop in the next measure (see Ex. 31).

Bernstein does not indicate tenuti above the three eighth notes on the fifth or sixth beats of m. 133 or the first beat of m. 134. He plausibly sought for the notes to be shorter than what appears in the

81 edition. A fascinating contrast between the two scores occurs in mm. 136-137. Bernstein marks all of the triplets pizz. in the manuscript as opposed to spicc. It is possible that Stern told Bernstein that this was not technically prudent due to the passage’s brisk tempo, since this is an issue that would only be discovered upon playing the passage on the violin. I believe that violinists should follow the edition instead of experimenting with what is contained in the manuscript (see Ex. 31).

Bernstein does not write any slurs on the final two eighth notes in m. 145 or m. 148. I find that utilizing the edition’s slurs in this passage may cause the bow to not respond as quickly. A responsive bow is vital in order to cleanly play the staccato notes that occur in the slurs. The majority of the slurs in this section are appropriate. However, they can inhibit violinists from maintaining a steady tempo. Balancing the need for the phrase to be executed quickly while remaining playfully irreverent is one of its primary interpretive challenges. Therefore, I advise following Bernstein’s markings in the manuscript (see Ex. 31).

Ex. 31. Socrates: Alcibiades, mm. 118-151 (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Solo Violin Part)” 12)

Bernstein specifies spiccato for the final passage of the Serenade in the manuscript beginning at m. 400. This opposes a commonly-held technical tradition of playing all of the sixteenth notes on the string, as the edition does not contain any directions to the contrary. Bernstein refrains from writing a crescendo or decrescendo in mm. 400-401. He additionally does not mark mf cresc. sempre in m. 404 or the decrescendo and crescendo at m. 405. The manuscript has a f cresc. in m. 405 in place of the decrescendo and crescendo in the edition. These markings are important as they dictate how

82 violinists typically perform the passage. Stern might have sought to add shape across the fast moving sixteenth notes. I do not advocate against following the Boosey & Hawkes edition’s markings here but encourage violinists to incorporate them at their discretion (see Ex. 32).

Ex. 32. Socrates: Alcibiades, mm. 400-409 (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Solo Violin Part)” 16)

Serenade | By Leonard Bernstein © Copyright Leonard Bernstein Music Publishing Co. Rights administered by Boosey & Hawkes Music Publishers Ltd. Used by permission. All rights reserved. Unauthorized reproduction is illegal.

4.2 Concluding Remarks Analyzing Bernstein’s manuscript alongside the Boosey & Hawkes edition allowed me to gain an understanding of the changes that occurred during the editorial process. My identification of these differences governed how I conceived the work both technically and interpretively. This molded how I performed the Serenade in concert in relation to my conception of its unique juxtaposition of musical styles and uncommon technical language. Viewing the manuscript in conjunction with the edition provided me with new points of reference to consider that helped me to successfully address

83 interpretive and technical challenges in the concerto. While some of the differences between the two scores are minor, many are profound in how they affect aspects of the work’s playability.

Passages that did not ultimately make it into the edition were interesting examples to study in relation to the different ways Bernstein initially sought to take the work. Since there is no other holograph orchestral score of the Serenade located at the Library of Congress, the manuscript I studied is a uniquely influential document. My first major point of intrigue was to notice that Bernstein titled the concerto as “Symposium (after Plato) A Serenade for Violin and String Orchestra with Percussion” (L. Bernstein, “Manuscript”). This substantiates the composer’s claim that he had originally named the work after Plato’s dialogue. In relation to the edition, the manuscript is filled with variations of articulations, dynamics, and phrasing markings. Several of these discrepancies counter interpretive traditions that have become standard practice among many violinists. Viewing Bernstein’s preliminary markings provided me with a greater level of support in the decisions I made that counter the Boosey & Hawkes edition.

There are musical terms and expressive directions in the edition that do not appear in the manuscript. While Bernstein and Stern might have agreed upon making some of these changes during their editorial collaboration, it was enlightening to view what Bernstein’s early markings were and how observing them affects the piece’s playability. One of the biggest disparities I found when comparing the manuscript with the edition is how and where slurs are used. The biggest differences pertaining to slurs in the manuscript and the edition occur in Erixymathus and Agathon. Bernstein’s slurring pattern in the opening phase of Erixymathus is not repeated again as seen in the Boosey & Hawkes edition. Additionally, the final phrase in the movement has Bernstein utilizing longer slurred patterns.

In Agathon, Bernstein employs extended slurs that necessitate crafting smooth and connected lines. Although the edition’s slurs can be argued to be more practical in terms of bow distribution, Bernstein’s apparent intent in the manuscript is for the phrase to be longer than what is typically played by violinists. Articulation is another area where the edition implements markings that shape the style of consequential phrases. Within Phaedrus: Pausanias, accents are added that create an angular sense of phrasing that is not implied by Bernstein in the manuscript. Passages in which accents are introduced that differ from the manuscript detract from their underlying lyricism.

Bernstein is meticulously detailed in the manuscript and it was thought provoking to discover articulations that are altered in the edition. Due to Bernstein’s detailed markings throughout the five

84 movements, I looked to identify articulations in the edition that cause undesired interpretive outcomes. For example, certain markings can lead a phrase to sound more neoclassical instead of neoromantic or vice versa. I have found that the edition’s markings are likely reflective of a playing style that was common among violinists of Stern’s generation. This can lead to a lack of stylistic diversity caused by its recommendations if a more balanced interpretation is sought.

An intriguing incongruity between the manuscript and the edition are the notes and phrases that differ entirely. I was unable to determine at what point Bernstein made these modifications after finishing the manuscript but believe that it is probable that such revisions were made in consultation with Stern. This is predicated by my conclusion that the rewritten passagework in the Boosey & Hawkes edition is better suited to the violin in terms of technical execution and musical character. Concerning passages in which specific notes are different, they were possibly changed by Bernstein upon receiving input from Stern for the sake of technical ease.

The modified lyrical phrases occurring in Agathon are dissimilar across the two scores. It is worthwhile to observe that the most significant compositional differences happen towards the end of Aristophanes and Agathon. After experimenting with both versions, I have determined that the phrases appearing in the edition are stronger on all fronts. The Boosey & Hawkes edition sometimes restricts the level of interpretive freedom Bernstein affords violinists in the manuscript. Regardless of Bernstein’s limited knowledge on the mechanics of violin playing, there are certain markings in the manuscript that are impressively violinistic.

Not every musician will follow all of a particular score’s markings, but the absence of choice violinists have in accessing other editions makes the Boosey & Hawkes publication the sole editorial authority on the work. Since the Serenade is a highly complex piece, it is challenging to definitively identify how interpretive and technical issues should be approached. Individuals who are interested in viewing the manuscript firsthand may access it through the Serge Koussevitzky Archive at the Library of Congress in Washington D.C. I encourage violinists to experiment with the differences I have noted between Bernstein’s holograph orchestral manuscript and the Boosey & Hawkes edition. It has been my observation that both scores hold strengths and weaknesses when general playability is considered.

85 Conclusion

The Serenade’s unconventional structure, character, and thematic inspiration afforded me numerous opportunities to explore its complexities. My research encompassed the concerto’s historical, technical, and interpretive dimensions. The work’s mixed reception has caused it to be generally neglected over the years since its premiere. This was my primary motivation for choosing the Serenade as the focus of my research. Undertaking this project in the midst of Bernstein’s centennial was particularly stimulating. As a Greek American violinist, the subject matter of this thesis is deeply personal for me. My research activities allowed me to interact with internationally renowned musicians and led me on exciting investigative pursuits throughout Australia and the United States. I encountered significant gaps in knowledge during the early stages of my research, as neither of the two theses published on the Serenade concern issues of violin performance.

Balancing the intricacies of academic and artistic research was integral to the successful execution of this project. Smith and Dean’s iterative cyclic web aided me in effectively managing the reflexivity existing between these differing areas. The web’s focus on the development, testing, and application of artistic research findings within a scholarly framework guided my data collection and analysis. Through Rink’s performer’s analysis model, my research activities systematically filtered into my interpretation of the Serenade. The breadth of my methodology reflects Rink’s view that a vast multitude of factors both external to and directly involving the playing of one’s instrument influence and shape an interpretation. My performance of the Serenade from October 2018 with The University of Queensland Symphony Orchestra at the Queensland Performing Arts Centre was the resulting output derived from my performer’s analysis.

Bernstein’s diverse life experiences provided me with a wealth of audio, video, and literary materials to examine. This literature aided me in uncovering the factors that have contributed to why the Serenade has yet to join the standard violin repertoire. This provided the basis for my investigation into how Bernstein’s personal history and compositional style directly influenced the Serenade’s lack of reception over the years after its premiere, as well as the relationship between the complexities of the work’s stylistic makeup and its interpretive and technical challenges. This proved critical in formulating the content of the interviews and lessons enacted with my research participants. My practice sessions directly correlated with my contextual research, since many of my interpretive and technical choices in the Serenade were closely linked with the research questions that arose during my review of relevant literature and methodological analysis processes.

86 The Serenade has remained an uncommon repertoire choice for violinists. Its peculiar title and ambiguous relationship with Plato’s Symposium has proved off-putting for many violinists and audiences. In addition, its unorthodox stylistic combination of neoclassicism, neoromanticism, and jazz has furthered its enigmatic character. Bernstein faced difficulty in having the Serenade gain acceptance within classical music circles since the success of his musicals caused him to be viewed primarily as a Broadway composer. During the era in which the Serenade was written, it was seen as undesirable for classical composers to incorporate popular musical styles within their works. Composers at the time were experimenting with atonality and serialism, so Bernstein’s jazzy and lyrical writing was largely disregarded. The Serenade’s poor reception made it lose the early momentum it needed to join the standard violin repertoire. It has not seen any notable resurgence until recently, as Bernstein’s centennial has led to his more neglected compositions being revisited.

Analyzing recordings of the Serenade enabled me to gauge the interpretive divide that exists between violinists whose interpretations exhibit more neoclassical or neoromantic tendencies. The recordings of Isaac Stern, Hilary Hahn, and Anne Sophie Mutter are in my view the best representations of how this interpretive range can be most readily discerned and explored. Incorporating elements of neoclassicism, neoromanticism, and jazz within respective phrases keeps an interpretation from being one-sided or unimaginative. I have found that an ideal interpretation of the Serenade is one that strikes a balance between a violinist’s individual creativity and the work’s diverse musical styles. This was my principal effort when crafting my interpretation. Bernstein’s compositional eclecticism is inherent to the Serenade, which led me to find that violinists should not neglect any of its stylistic traits.

The interviews and lessons I undertook with my research participants were pivotal to the development of my interpretive and technical views on a range of key topics. The insights I gained from them helped me to discover the reasons for the Serenade’s exclusion from the standard violin repertoire as well as the interpretive and technical challenges that have factored into its general lack of popularity. As both Jamie Bernstein and Dicterow communicated to me, the Serenade is of a high enough quality that it can withstand numerous variations in interpretation. Bernstein gave great artistic freedom to the violinists he performed the Serenade with, as expressed by Dicterow and Midori. According to Levinson, violinists should not feel constrained by the Boosey & Hawkes edition or interpretive traditions that have emerged since Stern premiered it.

Dicterow and Midori agreed that while Bernstein was indeed inspired by the Symposium, the Serenade is not a programmatic work and should not be taken literally when making interpretive

87 decisions. Levinson and Dicterow spoke at length on the concerto’s technical demands and cited its uncomfortably written passagework as a deterrent for violinists. Dicterow stressed that Bernstein’s distinctive musical language is difficult to master and causes many violinists to perform it ineffectively, which has impeded its ability to become more commonly programmed. In relation to the Serenade’s stylistic makeup, Jamie Bernstein felt that it does not need to adhere to one musical construct. This aided me in forming my opinion that the Serenade cannot be defined as belonging to a single genre.

Through my study of Bernstein’s manuscript and the Boosey & Hawkes edition, I discovered intriguing discrepancies that were previously undocumented. It was absorbing to examine the manuscript firsthand and admire the meticulous detail Bernstein put into it. My analysis of the manuscript fostered in me new ways to master the Serenade’s interpretive and technical challenges. It also permitted me to observe how the concerto developed from the manuscript to the Boosey & Hawkes edition. Uncovering Bernstein’s preliminary conception of the Serenade prior to Stern’s input was important in determining how the solo violin part functioned in its original form. Identifying the extent of Bernstein and Stern’s editorial collaboration prompted me to evaluate how both scores directly correlate to the work’s playability.

While Bernstein never studied any stringed instruments, many of his choices in the manuscript are well-thought-out and remarkably intuitive considering his inexperience with composing concert works for the violin. Numerous slurs were changed between the two scores and I was fascinated to observe the extent to which slurs present in the manuscript are beneficial for solving interpretive and technical challenges in the concerto. I additionally found this to be true in terms of articulation, especially in phrases where Bernstein refrains from accenting notes that are accented in the edition. The manuscript also helps to reinforce the presence of neoromanticism in the Serenade. A variety of Bernstein’s initial markings promote a high degree of lyricism, most notably in Phaedrus: Pausanias and Agathon.

While I sought to address major historical, interpretive, and technical issues in the Serenade, I refrained from going into an analysis of fingerings. This was in spite of the problem that Stern’s markings in this area are characteristic of a mid-twentieth century playing style that does not necessarily suit contemporary violinists. Dicterow and Levinson described having considered Stern’s suggestions but chose to utilize their own fingerings in the work. Midori took lessons with Stern on the concerto and mentioned that editorial fingerings are a matter of personal choice as opposed to the composer’s markings. She suspected that Stern would have been disappointed if she

88 had followed his fingerings without question. Therefore, it is my recommendation that violinists ultimately choose fingerings that most appropriately address their musical intentions and respective physicalities. Fingerings can be determined by traits such as a particular violinist’s handshape or finger length. While artistic researchers would not be at fault for studying this aspect of the work, such findings will not be applicable to a large degree of violinists who do not share these attributes.

The entirety of my research activities influenced and shaped my interpretation of the Serenade as embodied in my performance of the work with The University of Queensland Symphony Orchestra. The experience of playing the Serenade with orchestra as opposed to a collaborative pianist was a defining factor in how my interpretive perspective came to fruition. This became evident to me during the orchestral rehearsals, as the solo violin and orchestra must be hyper-aware of the intricacies of Bernstein’s ever-changing choices of meter and tempo. The advice Dicterow, Levinson, and Midori shared on performing the Serenade assisted me in effectively navigating such issues. I was especially reminded of Midori’s emphasis on bringing out tone colors and character changes across the movements.

I found myself able to experiment with more variations of tone colors, bow speed, and vibrato while playing with orchestra. This helped me to better understand the interpretive freedom violinists such as Anne Sophie Mutter take in their respective performances and recordings. Due to the piano reduction’s lack of a percussion part, playing the Serenade with orchestra allowed me to recognize the definitive impact the percussion section has on the concerto’s musical character. The various percussion instruments featured in the Serenade help to accentuate its rhythmic vitality, particularly in Socrates: Alcibiades when the work’s jazz qualities are on full display. While playing with orchestra, I became acutely aware of how the percussion section sets the rhythmic pulse in the Serenade and the way it underpins climactic moments such as the exuberant orchestral tuttis in Socrates: Alcibiades.

The necessity for a performance of the Serenade to include neoclassical and neoromantic stylistic traits became increasingly apparent to me as the rehearsals unfolded. The neoclassical elements of Phaedrus: Pausanias felt more pronounced as I played the movement with orchestra. The strings often have vibrant and lush melodies, particularly in Agathon that lend themselves to the incorporation of vibrato widths and speeds falling within the neoromantic spectrum. Despite having spent a considerable amount of time listening to recordings, playing the Serenade in its original instrumentation provided me with an enhanced awareness of the intricacies of the score and its

89 interpretive range. This level of stylistic diversity is unique when comparing the Serenade with most concertos from the standard violin repertoire.

I regularly consulted the score during my practice sessions and rehearsals. My approach to the Boosey & Hawkes edition was notably strengthened by having studied Bernstein’s manuscript. I found myself making more informed decisions due to the differences I uncovered between the edition and the manuscript. This often related to technical choices, when I found that some of Bernstein’s original bowings in Aristophanes and Erixymathus aid in maintaining tighter rhythmic cohesion with the orchestra. I felt that my awareness of the dialogue between the solo violin and orchestra was heightened in the concert due to the presence of the audience. The conversational nature of the work became clearer to me during the performance. The audience’s overwhelmingly positive response led me to conclude that the Serenade is able to function as a concerto that is capable of making a profound musical statement.

Due to the renewed interest in Bernstein’s compositions that has been generated by his centennial, an increased number of violinists have begun to perform the Serenade. Concert artists such as Joshua Bell, Hilary Hahn, and Midori performed the work during the 2017-2018 season and are continuing to do so in 2018-2019. It is yet to be seen if Bernstein’s centennial will strengthen the popularity and reception of the Serenade going forward. I am hoping that the long-term aftermath will create lasting results. It would be rewarding to see more young violinists learn the work since there is a need for elevated awareness of the concerto in conservatories and universities. Despite its interpretive and technical challenges, the Serenade is a work that deserves greater recognition and a place in the standard violin repertoire.

My desire is that this thesis will contribute to honoring Leonard Bernstein’s Serenade within the context of his centennial year in which the world celebrates his extraordinary legacy. My research will support violinists in obtaining new knowledge that will potentially affect how they conceive and interpret the concerto. The Serenade is among Bernstein’s best works and serves as one of the strongest examples of violin concertos written in the twentieth century. It is a concerto that all violinists should aim to include in their repertoire. I look forward to continuing to perform the Serenade throughout my career and have no doubt that Bernstein will continue to inspire countless musicians for centuries to come.

90 Works Cited

“The 27th Academy Awards.” Oscars, Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, 2017, www.oscars.org/oscars/ceremonies/1955. “The 34th Academy Awards.” Oscars, Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, 2017, www.oscars.org/oscars/ceremonies/1962. “A Greek Riddle: Bernstein’s Serenade (after Plato’s Symposium).” Houston Symphony, 2018, www.houstonsymphony.org/bernstein-serenade/. “Accolades.” Leonard Bernstein, The Leonard Bernstein Office, Inc., 2017, leonardbernstein.com/about/accolades. Adams, John, et al. “An American Voice.” Leonard Bernstein: American Original, New York, Oxford UP, 2008, pp. 193-205. Adams, Tony E., et al. Autoethnography: Understanding Qualitative Research. New York, Oxford UP, 2015. “Bernstein at 100.” Leonard Bernstein, The Leonard Bernstein Office, Inc., 2017, leonardbernstein.com/resources/press-room/leonard-bernstein-at-100. Bernstein, Burton, and Barbara B. Haws. Leonard Bernstein: American Original. New York, Collins, 2008. Bernstein, Jamie. Email Interview. 10 July 2017. Bernstein, Leonard. “Manuscript of the Serenade.” 28 June 1954. ML30.3c.B45, Serge Koussevitzky Archive, Library of Congress, Washington D.C. Bernstein, Leonard. Serenade (after Plato’s Symposium) for Solo Violin, String Orchestra, Harp and Percussion. Performance by Hilary Hahn, David Zinman, and Baltimore Symphony Orchestra, Sony Classical, 1999, CD. ---. Serenade (after Plato’s Symposium) for Solo Violin, String Orchestra, Harp and Percussion. Performance by Anne Sophie Mutter, André Previn, and Boston Symphony Orchestra, Deutsche Grammophon, 2003, CD. ---. Serenade (after Plato’s Symposium) for Solo Violin, String Orchestra, Harp and Percussion. Performance by Isaac Stern, Leonard Bernstein, and Symphony of the Air, Columbia Records, 1956, CD. ---. Serenade (after Plato’s Symposium) for Solo Violin, String Orchestra, Harp and Percussion (Piano Reduction). Milwaukee, Hal Leonard, 1956. ---. Serenade (after Plato’s Symposium) for Solo Violin, String Orchestra, Harp and Percussion (Solo Violin Part). Milwaukee, Hal Leonard, 1956. --- and Nigel Simeone. The Leonard Bernstein Letters. New Haven, Yale UP, 2014.

91 “Billboard Chart Record-Breakers: The Longest Music Moments Ever.” Billboard, 9 May 2014, www.billboard.com/articles/columns/chart-beat/470364/billboard-chart-record-breaking-songs- albums-longest-music-moments-ever. “Biography.” Midori, 2017, www.gotomidori.com/biography. “Blossom Music Center.” Leon Levy Digital Archives, New York Philharmonic, 2018, archives.nyphil.org/indEx.php/artifact/9f15aab3-cfcc-414c-b833-adb1a9db3cd7- 0.1/fullview#page/1/mode/2up. Burton, Humphrey. Leonard Bernstein. New York, Doubleday, 1994. Burton, William Westbrook. Conversations about Bernstein. New York, Oxford UP, 1995. Cook, Nicholas. Beyond the Score: Music as Performance. New York, Oxford UP, 2013. “Collection Leonard Bernstein.” The Library of Congress, 2017, www.loc.gov/collections/leonard- bernstein/. “Contents.” Boosey & Hawkes, 2017, www.boosey.com/cr/sheet-music/Leonard-Bernstein-Five- Anniversaries-piano/302. Dicterow, Glenn. FaceTime Audio Interview. 20 December 2016. Doğantan-Dack, Mine. “Practice-as-Research in Music Performance.” SAGE Handbook of Digital Dissertations and Theses, edited by Richard Andrews et al., SAGE Publications, London, 2012, pp. 259-275. “Free Parks Concerts.” Leon Levy Digital Archives, New York Philharmonic, 2018, archives.nyphil.org/indEx.php/artifact/84b35ff0-328f-433a-8768-1c516386bb65- 0.1/fullview#page/2/mode/2up. “Gary Levinson Biography.” Gary Levinson, 2017, www.glevinson.com/gary-levinson-biography/. Ginsborg, Jane. “Research Skills in Practice: Learning and Teaching Practice-Based Research at RNCM.” Research and Research Education in Music Performance and Pedagogy, edited by Scott D. Harrison, Dordrecht, Springer, 2014, pp. 77-89. Gottlieb, Jack. Working with Bernstein. New York, Amadeus, 2010. Gradenwitz, Peter. Leonard Bernstein: The Infinite Variety of a Musician. Leamington Spa, Berg, 1987. Haseman, Brad, and Daniel Mafe. “Acquiring Know-How: Research Training for Practice-led Researchers.” Practice-led Research, Research-led Practice in the Creative Arts, edited by Hazel Smith and R.T. Dean, Edinburgh, Edinburgh UP, 2009, pp. 211-28. Henahan, Donal. “Leonard Bernstein, 72, Music’s Monarch, Dies.” The New York Times, 15 Oct. 1990, www.nytimes.com/1990/10/15/obituaries/leonard-bernstein-72-music-s-monarch- dies.html. ---. “Review/Music; A Bernstein Premiere.” The New York Times, 25 Nov. 1988, p. 1,

92 www.nytimes.com/1988/11/25/arts/review-music-a-bernstein-premiere.html. Horowitz, Joseph, et al. “As Music Director: A Quest for Meaning and Identity.” Leonard Bernstein American Original, New York, Collins, 2008, pp. 135-55. “Jamie Bernstein.” Opus 3 Artists, 2017, www.opus3artists.com/artists/jamie-bernstein. Kvale, Steinar, and Svend Brinkmann. Interviews: Learning the Craft of Qualitative Research Interviewing. Thousand Oaks, SAGE Publications, 2009. LaFave, Kenneth. Experiencing Leonard Bernstein: A Listener’s Companion. Lanham, Rowman & Littlefield, 2015. Lehrman, Leonard Jordan. Leonard Bernstein’s Serenade after Plato’s “Symposium”: An Analysis. Cornell U, 1977, ProQuest Dissertations & Theses Global [ProQuest], search.proquest.com.ezproxy.library.uq.edu.au/docview/302837598. Levinson, Gary. Personal Interview. 5 January 2017. McDonald, Anthony Terrell. A Conductor’s Analysis of “Serenade for Solo Violin, String Orchestra, Harp and Percussion” by Leonard Bernstein. Dissertation, Stanford University, 1982, ProQuest Dissertations & Theses Global [ProQuest], search.proquest.com/ezprozy.library.uq.edu.au/docview/303250026/. Mercer, Leah, et al., editors. Live Research: Methods of Practice-Led Inquiry in Performance. Nerang, Ladyfinger, 2012. Midori. Personal Interview. 25 June 2016. ---. Private Lessons. 10-12 December 2016. Myers, Paul. Leonard Bernstein. London, Phaidon, 1998. “National Statement on Ethical Conduct in Human Research (2007).” National Health and Medical Research Council, Australian Government, 2015, www.nhmrc.gov.au/guidelines- publications/e72. “Overview.” Leonard Bernstein, The Leonard Bernstein Office, Inc., 2017, leonardbernstein.com/about. Plato. The Symposium. Edited by M.C. Howatson and Frisbee C.C. Sheffield. Translated by M.C. Howatson, New York, Cambridge UP, 2008. Peyser, Joan. Leonard Bernstein. London, Bantam, 1987. Robinson, Paul. Bernstein: The Art of the Conductor. New York, Vanguard, 1982. Rockwell, John. “Girl, 14, Conquers Tanglewood with 3 Violins.” The New York Times, 28 July 1986, www.nytimes.com/1986/07/28/arts/girl-14-conquers-tanglewood-with-3-violins.html. Rink, John, editor. Musical Performance: A Guide to Understanding, Cambridge, Cambridge UP, 2003.

93 ---. “The State of Play in Performance Studies.” The Music Practitioner: Research for the Music Performer, Teacher, and Listener, edited by Jane W. Davidson, Aldershot, Ashgate, 2004, pp. 37-51. Sandelowski, Margarete. “Member Check.” The SAGE Encyclopedia of Qualitative Research Methods, edited by Lisa M. Green. Thousand Oaks, SAGE Publications, 2008, p. 502. Secrest, Meryle. Leonard Bernstein: A Life. New York, Knopf, 1994. Seldes, Barry. Leonard Bernstein: The Political Life of an American Musician. Berkeley, U of California, 2009. Shawn, Allen. Leonard Bernstein: An American Musician. New Haven, Yale UP, 2014. “Short Biography.” Glenn Dicterow, 2017, www.glenndicterow.com/artist.php?view=bio&bid=4032. Smith, Hazel, and R.T. Dean, editors. Practice-led Research, Research-led Practice in the Creative Arts. Edinburgh, Edinburgh UP, 2009. Stern, Isaac. Letter to Leonard Bernstein. 30 Oct. 1954. Box 53, Folder 34. Leonard Bernstein Collection, Library of Congress, Washington D.C. Stern, Isaac. “Letter to Leonard Bernstein.” 4 June 1955. Box 53, Folder 34. Leonard Bernstein Collection, Library of Congress, Washington D.C. Teachout, Terry. “How Good was Leonard Bernstein?” Commentary Magazine, 1 Oct. 1994, pp. 1- 6, www.commentarymagazine.com/articles/how-good-was-leonard-bernstein/. “Works.” Leonard Bernstein, The Leonard Bernstein Office Inc., 2017, leonardbernstein.com/works.

94 Appendix A: Scholarly Program Notes

Leonard Bernstein’s Serenade (after Plato’s Symposium) for Solo Violin, String Orchestra, Harp and Percussion is a five-movement violin concerto inspired by Plato’s Symposium (c. 385-370 BC). Bernstein composed the work during the summer of 1954 while on his honeymoon with Chilean actress Felicia Montealegre in Martha’s Vineyard, Massachusetts (Myers 88). Due to his recent marriage, Bernstein was contemplating issues surrounding love (Lehrman 30). Bernstein had been closeted with his homosexuality up to that point in his life (Peyser 207). He was conflicted due to his desire to have a traditional family while seeking romantic relationships with men (Shawn 111). This ultimately led to a confluence with his composing, as he had been commissioned to write a violin concerto from the Koussevitzky Music Foundation for Isaac Stern several years earlier (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Piano Reduction)” 1).

Upon a rereading of the Symposium, Bernstein was moved to model his long-awaited violin concerto after the dialogue (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Piano Reduction)” 2). Bernstein had an interest in Greek philosophy since his undergraduate studies at Harvard University (W. Burton 12). The content of the Symposium is centered around homosexuality, so Bernstein was largely drawn to the work due to his internal struggle with his sexual orientation (Lehrman 30). Bernstein composed the Serenade with relative ease, borrowing themes from his Five Anniversaries (1952), a series of short pieces for solo piano (H. Burton 240). This compositional period in Bernstein’s life is viewed as his most successful, in part due to the immense acclaim he would later receive for writing the score to the hit musical West Side Story (1957) (J. Adams 204; McDonald 5).

The Serenade is approximately thirty minutes in length and divided into five movements that depict the speakers featured in the Symposium: Phaedrus: Pausanias (Lento; Allegro), Aristophanes (Allegretto), Erixymathus (Presto), Agathon (Adagio), and Socrates: Alcibiades (Molto tenuto; Allegro molto vivace). The Symposium takes place in 416 BC at the home of Agathon, an Athenian poet who is hosting a drinking party in celebration of a prize he has recently been awarded at a dramatic festival (Plato vii). His guests are Agathon, Alcibiades, Aristophanes, Erixymathus, Pausanias, Phaedrus, and Socrates. The men in attendance agree to give speeches detailing their views on love, which leads to a spirited debate (Plato viii). While the characters in the Symposium are known historical figures, the events and dialogue written by Plato are a product of his imagination (Plato vii).

95 While Bernstein’s inspiration for the Serenade was sparked by the Symposium, the music refrains from being a programmatic representation of the dialogue (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Piano Reduction)” 2). In the preface to the score, Bernstein describes the separation between the Serenade and the Symposium:

There is no literal program for this Serenade, despite the fact that it resulted from a rereading of Plato’s charming dialogue, the Symposium. The music, like the dialogue is a series of related statements in praise of love, and generally follows the Platonic form through the succession of speakers at the banquet. The ‘relatedness’ of the movements does not depend on common thematic material, but rather on a system whereby each movement evolves out of elements in the preceding one. (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Piano Reduction)” 2)

Gradenwitz observes that Bernstein’s “method of developing one variation out of a preceding one is also the musical foundation for his Serenade, in which each of the five movements originates from elements in a preceding part of the work” (166). Bernstein’s choice of instrumentation in the Serenade was likely influenced by Berlioz, Richard Strauss, and Tchaikovsky (Lehrman 5). Humphrey Burton remarks that the Serenade can be “perceived as a portrait of Bernstein himself: grand and noble in the first movement, childlike in the second, boisterous and playful in the third, serenely calm and tender in the fourth, a doom-laden prophet and then a jazzy iconoclast in the finale” (240). The Serenade is written in a neoclassical style but has strong neoromantic and jazz traits as well. Neoclassical characteristics of the Serenade include Bernstein’s use of traditional stylistic forms from the Classical period, including fugue, rondo, and sonata-allegro (McDonald 4).

The concerto’s romantic impulses derive primarily from its expressive depth and musical contrasts comprising of character, color, and mood. The Serenade’s first and fifth movements brim with jazz, including improvisatory passages, syncopated rhythms, and a feeling of rhythmic swing. Bernstein alludes to his unorthodox incorporation of jazz in the preface to the score: “If there is a hint of jazz in the celebration, I hope it will not be taken as anachronistic Greek party-music, but rather the natural expression of a contemporary American composer imbued with the spirit of that timeless dinner-party” (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Piano Reduction)” 2). Bernstein’s stylistic eclecticism was unusual at the time since atonality and serialism were popular among composers (Myers 89).

The Serenade received harsh criticism at its premiere on September 12, 1954 in Venice, where Bernstein conducted the Israel Philharmonic with Isaac Stern (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Piano

96 Reduction)” 1; Myers 89). Secrest notes that the Serenade was “bound to be dismissed by Italian critics because it was not in the fashionable twelve-tone style but lush, melodic, and Romantic” (203). Bernstein anticipated the criticism he would receive but was still disappointed by its lack of acceptance (L. Bernstein, “Letters” 320; W. Burton 25). The Serenade faced a mixed reception from American critics at its New York premiere, with Virgil Thomson describing the work as “‘a negligible contribution to music’” (Shawn 127). In the preface to the score, Bernstein writes a series of brief, loosely programmatic descriptions intended to serve as points of reference for the audience. This has greatly contributed to the confusion over its connection with the Symposium.

The first movement of the Serenade consists of two contrasting sections depicting the speeches of Phaedrus and Pausanias. Bernstein describes Phaedrus as opening the Symposium with a “lyrical oration in praise of Eros, the god of love” (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Piano Reduction)” 2). He identifies Pausanias as “describing the duality of lover and beloved” (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Piano Reduction)” 2). The first movement begins pensively and increases in fervor as the phrase unfolds. It immediately transitions into a jazzy, dance-like section full of comic enthusiasm. This progresses to a more subdued melodic passage which gradually expands into a joyous climax. Bernstein subsequently returns to transposed material reflecting earlier phrases. The first movement culminates in a playfully abrupt manner.

The second movement (Aristophanes) is charming and full of idiosyncrasies. Bernstein characterizes Aristophanes as the “bedtime story-teller, invoking the fairytale mythology of love” (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Piano Reduction)” 2). Aristophanes opens with a jocular theme requiring the violinist to engage a mute. It is followed by a lyrical passage which becomes slightly aggressive before transitioning to an introverted ending. The remainder of the movement is lighthearted and spritely with brief moments of seriousness. Aristophanes concludes with a similar melody found earlier in the movement. The third movement (Erixymathus) is the shortest of the concerto and played at a brisk tempo. Bernstein describes Erixymathus as a physician who “speaks of bodily harmony as a scientific model of the workings of love-patterns” (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Piano Reduction)” 2).

Erixymathus is filled with rapidly-occurring sixteenth notes, giving it a frenetic feeling. The orchestra compliments the solo violin with similar passagework and animated tuttis. Similar to the first movement, Erixymathus finishes suddenly. The fourth movement (Agathon) is introspective and the only slow movement in the concerto. Bernstein credits Agathon as giving “the most moving speech of the dialogue” (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Piano Reduction)” 2). He adds that Agathon

97 “embraces all aspects of love’s powers, charms, and functions” (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Piano Reduction)” 2). Bernstein comments that Agathon’s somber introduction carries “greater weight than any of the preceding movements, and serves as a highly developed reprise of the middle section of the Agathon movement” (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Piano Reduction)” 2).

Agathon is deeply poetic in its opening phrases. The solo violin is muted and floats above the orchestra, which provides restrained support. This is succeeded by a challenging cadenza written by Bernstein. The cadenza is passionate and filled with complex double stops. Its boldness provides a stark contrast from the earlier part of the movement. At the conclusion of the cadenza, Bernstein returns to a phrase that shares similarities with Agathon’s introductory melody. The hypnotic quality of the orchestral accompaniment helps guide the solo violin to a tranquil finish. The fifth movement (Socrates: Alcibiades) is dramatic and electrifying. It contains the concerto’s greatest number of character, color, and dynamic changes in addition to jazz motifs. Bernstein writes that Socrates tells of his visit to see the priestess Diotima, who gives him a speech “on the demonology of love” (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Piano Reduction)” 2). Bernstein observes that Alcibiades makes his “famous interruption” with his “band of drunken revelers” in the middle of Socrates’ speech (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Piano Reduction)” 2).

He states that this jazz-filled part of the movement “ushers in the Allegro, which is an extended Rondo ranging in spirit from agitation through jig-like dance music to joyful celebration” (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Piano Reduction)” 2). The solo violin’s entrance is bold and cadential. It builds to a fiery climax that is proceeded by a contrastingly icy passage. Bernstein continues with an orchestral tutti that foreshadows the jazz that inhabits the rest of the movement. The violin enters with a soaring lyrical phrase that transitions into a feverish buildup of energy until the eruption of a raucous orchestral tutti. The solo violin then emerges with a brazen series of double stops leading to a climactic orchestral crescendo. This transitions to a graceful phrase, filled with double stops possessing a seductive flair. Bernstein ushers in an unexpected melodic transition into raging double stops until returning to a theme from earlier in the movement. The concerto ends with the solo violin playing an exhilarating series of rapid-fire sixteenth notes.

The Serenade has not yet earned a place in the standard violin repertoire, which can be partially attributed to its unconventional literary basis and stylistic content (H. Burton 239). Isaac Stern once commented that the Serenade “‘is in a language that comes not easily on the tongue of most violinists – it is not easy on the players and on the audience’” (Gradenwitz 275-276). Bernstein was hindered by a widely-held stereotype that he was not a composer of serious classical music (W.

98 Burton 25). Although he had previously found success on Broadway with his musicals On the Town (1944) and Wonderful Town (1953), critics and audiences of the era were typically not accepting of composers who wrote in popular styles (Myers 89). This led Bernstein to encounter difficulty in proving himself as a legitimate composer, which caused him great personal strife (W. Burton xxviii). He made the premiere recording of the Serenade with Isaac Stern and the Symphony of the Air for Columbia Records in 1956 (L. Bernstein, “Serenade (Stern)”). Bernstein later recorded the work with Glenn Dicterow, Gidon Kremer, and Zino Francescatti.

In 1986, Bernstein embarked on a tour of the United States with Glenn Dicterow and the New York Philharmonic, during which they performed the Serenade (Dicterow). He also conducted fourteen- year-old Midori in a performance of the Serenade with the Boston Symphony Orchestra at the Tanglewood Music Festival in Lenox, Massachusetts (Rockwell). The performance has since achieved legendary status, as Midori played the concerto successfully in the midst of breaking two strings on two violins during Socrates: Alcibiades (Rockwell). This event subsequently made the front page of The New York Times (Rockwell). Bernstein performed the Serenade again with Midori at the inaugural Pacific Music Festival in Sapporo, Japan in 1990 (Midori, “Personal Interview”). He was increasingly ill and suffering from health issues related to his lungs (Midori, “Personal Interview”). Soon after the concert, he was forced to return to his home in New York for medical treatment (Midori, “Personal Interview”). This performance of the Serenade proved to be his last, as he passed away only a few months later (Henahan, “Leonard Bernstein”).

Numerous audio recordings of the Serenade have been made since Bernstein’s death. Renowned violin soloists including Hilary Hahn, Anne Sophie Mutter, and Itzhak Perlman have recorded the work. Although the Serenade currently remains outside of the standard violin repertoire, a variety of audio recordings exist of the concerto. This is due to the violin soloists who have championed the Serenade despite its difficulty in attracting wider popularity. 2018 marked the centennial of Bernstein’s birth, which initiated an international celebration of his life and works (“Bernstein at 100”). The centennial is spearheaded by The Leonard Bernstein Office, Inc. in New York City (“Bernstein at 100”). The official centennial period will run through 2019, marking a two-year retrospective of Bernstein’s creative output (“Bernstein at 100”). It is yet to be seen whether the centennial will enhance the Serenade’s reception or its current standing in the violin repertoire. The Serenade remains an excellent example of Bernstein’s compositional prowess and is worthy of greater recognition.

99 Appendix B: Permission to Conduct Research with Human Subjects

SCHOOL OF MUSIC

Approval Form for Experiments on Humans Including Behavioural Research

Chief Investigator: Mr Stefanos Melas

Project Title: An Original Interpretive Perspective and Performer’s Analysis of Leonard Bernstein’s Serenade for Solo Violin, Strings, Harp, and Percussion after Plato’s Symposium.

Supervisors: Dr Liam Viney, Associate Professor Adam Chalabi

Discipline: PhD

Project Number: SoM-ETH16-06/SM

Duration: Three Years ______Comments: Approved. ______Name of Responsible Panel: School of Music Ethical Review Panel

This project complies with the provisions contained in the National Statement on Ethical Conduct in Human Research and complies with the regulations governing experimentation on humans. ______Name of School of Music Acting Head of School:

Professor Patricia Pollett

Date: 24 June 2016

100 Appendix C: Permission to Reproduce Smith and Dean’s Iterative Cyclic Web

101

102 Appendix D: Permission to Reproduce Rink’s Performer’s Analysis Model

103 Appendix E: Permission to Reproduce Examples from Bernstein’s Serenade

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