Season 20102010----20112011

The Philadelphia

Thursday, January 227777,, at 8:00 FriFriFriday,Fri day, January 22282888,, at 888:008:00:00:00

Jonathan Nott Conductor Andreas Haefliger Piano

Mozart Adagio and in C minor, K. 546

Bartók Piano Concerto No. 3 I. Allegretto II. Adagio religioso—Poco più mosso— I— III. Allegro vivace—Presto—Tempo I

Intermission

Schubert Symphony in , D. 944 (“Great”) I. Andante—Allegro, ma non troppo—Più moto II. Andante con moto III. Scherzo: Allegro vivace—Trio—Scherzo da capo IV. Allegro vivace

This program runs approximately 1 hour, 50 minutes.

Jonathan Nott became principal conductor of the in 2000. Since his appointment, he has taken the ensemble on tours to South America, Russia, Japan, and the U.S., the Salzburg and Edinburgh International festivals, and the BBC Proms. He was “Artiste Étoile” at the 2007 Lucerne Summer Festival, where the Bamberg Symphony was orchestra-in-residence.

Mr. Nott has conducted many of the world’s leading , including the , New York, Los Angeles, and philharmonics; and the Royal and Gewandhaus orchestras. He conducted the Philharmonic at the Vienna Modern and Salzburg festivals, directed the Gustav Mahler Youth Orchestra on its 2009 European tour, and returned to his home city for his debut with the City of Birmingham Symphony in June 2010. This season he returns to the NHK Symphony in , the Ensemble Intercontemporain, and the Radio and Oslo philharmonics, and he will debut with the Orchestra dell’Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia and the Deutsches Symphonie-Orchester Berlin. These current concerts mark his Philadelphia Orchestra debut.

Born in Great Britain, Mr. Nott studied music at Cambridge University, singing and flute in Manchester, and conducting in . His conducting career began at the Frankfurt and Wiesbaden operas where he conducted all the major operatic repertoire, including Wagner’s Ring. He also directed the Radio-Sinfonieorchester Stuttgart des SWR in a production of Strauss’s Elektra at the Baden-Baden Festival and in Wiesbaden. Mr. Nott was appointed chief conductor of the Lucerne Symphony in 1997 and principal conductor of the Ensemble Intercontemporain in 2000.

Mr. Nott’s award-winning discography includes works by Mahler, Schubert, and Stravinsky with the Bamberg Symphony in co-production with the Bayerische Rundfunk under the Swiss label Tudor Records. Their latest release, Mahler’s Symphony No. 9, received the 2009 International Toblacher Komponierhäuschen Prize; in January 2010 it was also selected as winner of the Symphonic Works category at the MIDEM Classical Awards. With the Berlin Philharmonic he has recorded the complete orchestral works of György Ligeti, including the , for Warner Classics. In October 2009 Mr. Nott was awarded an E.ON AG Prize for Culture.

Pianist Andreas Haefliger was born into a distinguished Swiss musical family and grew up in , later going on to study at the . Engagements with major U.S. orchestras followed, including the , the , the Boston Symphony, the , the Chicago Symphony, the Pittsburgh Symphony, and the . He made his Philadelphia Orchestra debut in 2005. In Mr. Haefliger has appeared with numerous ensembles, including the Royal Concertgebouw and Budapest Festival orchestras, the Rotterdam and Munich philharmonics, the Deutsches Sinfonie-Orchester Berlin, the Orchestre de , and the London and Vienna symphonies. He has also been a frequent performer at such festivals as Lucerne and Salzburg, the BBC Proms, and the Vienna Festwochen.

Engagements this season include appearances with the Toronto Symphony, the London Philharmonic, and Vienna’s Tonkünstler Orchestra. Recent highlights include performances at Carnegie Hall and the Aspen Festival, and with the Strasbourg Philharmonic, the , the Vienna Radio Symphony, and the Yomiuri Nippon Symphony.

A frequent recitalist and chamber musician, Mr. Haefliger has collaborated with his late father, the tenor , baritone , the Takács Quartet, and his wife, flautist Marina Piccinini. He has a long-standing partnership with baritone , with whom in summer 2010 he performed at the festivals of Tanglewood, Toronto, and Aix-en-Provence, followed by an appearance at London’s in October. In recent years Mr. Haefliger’s solo recital appearances have been focused on an ongoing series, Perspectives on Beethoven, all of which have been recorded for the Avie label.

Mr. Haefliger has recorded Mozart sonatas, Schumann’s Davidsbündlertänze and Fantasiestücke, Schubert’s impromptus, and a disc of music by for the Sony Classical label. He has also recorded with the Takács Quartet and Mr. Goerne for Decca. Mr. Haefliger’s latest release with Mr. Goerne of Schubert Lieder set to texts by Goethe was awarded a Preis der Deutschen Schallplattenkritik.

FRAMING THE PROGRAM

Mozart liked to show off and to experiment—and why not, as he was fully aware of his extraordinary compositional powers. One way he did this was through displays of in which he engaged with the great accomplishments of the Baroque masters, above all. He originally composed his austere Fugue in C minor for two pianos in 1783, soon after becoming enamored with Bach’s . Five years later he arranged the work for strings and added an impressive adagio to start.

Béla Bartók fled the horrors of war-torn Europe in 1940 and came to New York where he struggled to build a new life. After an initial period of compositional paralysis he wrote a final series of instrumental masterpieces before dying of leukemia five years later. Tonight we hear his last completed composition, the Third Piano Concerto.

Although posterity has embraced Schubert’s seven completed symphonies, the composer apparently felt that all but his last, the C major that concludes the program, were preparatory works. In the summer of 1825, his health temporarily restored after a long illness, he composed this ambitious symphony meant to vie with the living legacy of Beethoven.

Parallel Events 1788 Mozart Adagio and Fugue Music Symphony No. 90 Literature Goethe Egmont Art Canova Cupid and Psyche History Bread riots in

1825 Schubert Symphony in C major (“Great”) Music Mendelssohn String Octet Literature Pushkin Boris Godunov Art Constable Leaping Horse History Decembrist revolt in Russia crushed

1945 Bartók Piano Concerto No. 3 Music Strauss Metamorphosen Literature Orwell Animal Farm Art Moore Family Group History Surrender of Germany

Adagio and Fugue in C minor

Wolfgang Amadè Mozart Born in Salzburg, January 27, 11756756 Died in Vienna, December 5, 1791

The 19th-century revival of Bach’s music is often dated to 1829, when the 20-year-old conducted the St. Mathew Passion in Leipzig. While that legendary event sparked interest among Romantic composers, the rediscovery of the music of Bach and Handel had already been well underway for decades. A crucial figure in that revival was Baron Gottfried van Swieten, an Austrian diplomat and amateur musician who held weekly house concerts in Vienna.

Mozart wrote to his father in April 1782 that “I go every Sunday at twelve o’clock to Baron van Swieten, where nothing is played but Handel and Bach. I am collecting at the moment the fugues of Bach. …” Ten days later Mozart sent his sister a prelude and fugue he had just written. He told her of van Swieten’s musicals and commented that when his wife, Constanze,

heard the fugues she absolutely fell in love with them. Now she will listen to nothing but fugues and particularly (in this kind of composition) the works of Handel and Bach. Well, as she had often heard me improvise fugues, she asked me if I had ever written any down, and when I said I had not, she scolded me very thoroughly for not recording some of my compositions in this most artistic and beautiful of all musical forms.

Mozart’s Fugal Frenzy Van Swieten enlisted Mozart to make string arrangements of various Bach fugues, including from the Well-Tempered Clavier, that could be played through at his house. Some years later he helped found the Society of Associated Cavaliers, a group of nobles that presented concerts on a larger scale. Mozart was commissioned to re- orchestrate four choral works by Handel ( Acis and Galatea, , Alexander’s Feast, and Ode for St. Cecilia’s Day ). It is no wonder that all these activities left their mark on Mozart’s own compositions, witness in particular his increased contrapuntal experimentation.

Although Mozart had employed fugal passages in earlier sacred choral works, as well as in some instrumental pieces (especially string quartets in emulation of his friend Haydn), most of his fugal frenzy came after he moved to Vienna in 1781 and met van Swieten. The impact of Bach and Handel is apparent in Mozart’s two greatest religious works (both unfinished), the Mass in C minor and Requiem, as well as in the Overture to and the last movement of his last symphony—the “Jupiter”—in which he uses five distinct themes and ends by combining them in a dazzling display of counterpoint.

Such compositional virtuosity seems to have been congenial with Mozart’s precocious genius. “Too many notes, my dear Mozart,” Emperor Joseph II is alleged to have said to him, eliciting the response that there were “exactly as many notes as are needed.” But the

imperial criticism was echoed by others: Mozart’s music was challenging and complex; it was often difficult to comprehend on first hearing and was hard to play. , himself an estimable musician, was constantly worrying that his son liked to show off too much in his compositions and insufficiently calculated public taste.

A Closer Look In December 1783 Mozart composed a Fugue in C minor (K. 426) for two pianos. He returned to the piece in June 1788, the golden summer of his last three symphonies, when he decided to arrange it for strings prefaced by an adagio. Such a format places the piece in the tradition of a prelude and fugue (as in so many of Bach’s keyboard works) and also of two-movement Viennese church sonatas. Although published in 1788 for string quartet, the manuscript indicates five staves rather than four and has a divided bass- line for multiple and “Contra Basso,” which suggests Mozart had in mind a larger string orchestra.

The “short adagio” (as Mozart called it in his catalogue) in fact takes up fully half of the eight- minute-long piece. The Adagio begins with a bold forte theme distinguished by its dotted rhythm—a long note followed by very short one—that was associated with the so-called Baroque French Overture. This passage alternates throughout the Adagio with a softer and more lyrical theme. The four-part Fugue that follows uses an austere subject, the kind Mozart seems to have been drawn to in his study of Bach. Indeed the theme bears some similarity to the “Royal Theme” of Bach’s Musical Offering, a work Mozart could have known through van Swieten. It bears an even closer resemblance, however, to a melody in a ballet by Josef Starzer, a popular composer, friend of Mozart, and yet another avid participant in van Swieten’s house concerts.

—Christopher H. Gibbs

Mozart composed the C-minor Adagio and Fugue in 1788.

The first Philadelphia Orchestra performances of the Adagio and Fugue were in November/December 1962, with Eugene Ormandy on the podium. The piece has only been heard here one other time, in January 1981 with James Conlon.

The score calls for strings only.

The work runs approximately eight minutes in performance.

Piano Concerto No. 3

Béla Bartók Born in Nagyszentmiklós, Hungary (now Romania), March 25, 1881 Died in , September 26, 1945

Of the major European composers of the first half of the 20th century, it is Béla Bartók whose imprint on subsequent music is the most difficult to assess. Schoenberg, who devised a potent system for atonal composition, remains the most influential intellectual figure of our musical century, despite the fact that his music is played with relative infrequency. Stravinsky, ostensibly the most accessible of the three, has become a household name, and many of his works are as familiar as those of Bach or Brahms. Bartók, less cosmopolitan than Stravinsky and less severely systematic than Schoenberg, forged a peculiar style that was fiercely personal, built partly on pride in Hungarian ethnicity. He was, in many ways, a more conventional artist than either of his contemporaries—yet he still became one of the most original musicians and thinkers of his era.

A Hungarian in SelfSelf----ExileExile Bartók had already achieved a full and rich career when he arrived in America in 1940. As a composer he had amazed and shocked the European music world with scandalous theater works such as The Miraculous Mandarin and with densely wrought orchestral works—including concertos that quickly became part of every ’s and violinist’s concert repertoire. He had also carved out a substantial career for himself as pianist and pedagogue. But when fascism began to envelop Europe during the early 1930s, the ever-individualistic Bartók was outspoken in his criticism of its tactics. After 1933 he refused to perform in Germany. As a result, he himself began to be the object of attacks; at first he considered removing himself to , but during concerts in America in the late 1930s he contemplated the possibility of settling in the , an idea that was solidified in 1940 through the offer of a temporary appointment as Visiting Research Associate at Columbia University. He accepted the position, which began in 1941.

New York bewildered him. He wrote of being lost in the subway system, he and his wife “travelling hither and thither in the earth; finally, our time waning and our mission incomplete, we shamefacedly slunk home—all entirely underground, of course.” There was worse to come. The Columbia appointment was not to be renewed, and he found himself in financial straits. As he tried to make a living concertizing, he grew ill. In 1943, after becoming so sick he could no longer give concerts, he was finally diagnosed with leukemia (though his doctors told him it was polycythema, a less serious illness affecting the white blood cells).

His final years consisted of a series of charitable gestures from friends and, ultimately, money from ASCAP (American Society of Composers, Authors, and Publishers), which allowed him to survive but not thrive. Nevertheless he was able to compose several of the works for which he is best known today, including the Concerto for Orchestra, the Concerto (not completed), and the Third Piano Concerto—which was completed except for the scoring of the final 17 measures.

Piano Concertos as Paradoxes The three piano concertos present prime examples of the paradoxes of Bartók’s art—the tension between tradition and revolution, between folk song and iconoclasm. They remain among the most important contributions to the genre of the piano concerto in the 20th century, though their entrance into the standard repertoire has been a bumpy one. Each of these works offers insight into an important aspect of Bartók the musician. The First (1926), with its “barbaric” rhythms and martellato (“hammered”) effects, suggests the importance of irregular meters and percussive sonorities in Bartók’s music. The Second synthesizes folk rhythm with orchestral tone-painting, Baroque counterpoint, and relentless motivic development. The lyrical Third Concerto underscores the neoclassical tranquillity and resignation of the composer’s final years in exile in New York.

Composed during Bartók’s final year, the Third is normally regarded as his last completed composition, since the orchestration of the final bars, effected by former Philadelphia Orchestra violist Tibor Serly, was a relatively mechanical exercise.

A Closer Look The Piano Concerto was conceived as a birthday present for Bartók’s wife, the prominent pianist Ditta Pásztory Bartók, who was to turn 42 on October 31, 1945. Bartók knew he was dying, and he rushed to complete the Concerto—partly, some believe, so that Ditta could have a work with which to build her own career in America. Serly tells of having visited Bartók in September as he was completing the orchestration of the piece, on the last evening before the composer’s final hospitalization. Having interrupted his work, he felt responsible for hindering Bartók from completing the piece, and thus took it upon himself to do so after the composer’s death later that month.

The Third is a remarkably tranquil, transparent work. Gone is the brutal percussiveness of the First Piano Concerto, or the transcendent virtuosic difficulty of the Second. The first movement Allegretto begins with a simple, charming melody in the piano, played with both hands two octaves apart; this shimmering, transparent quality is carried through the entire work. In place of virtuosity is brilliant, breathless instrumental color, the sparkling shades that transform simple motivic ideas into poetry. The tonality is unusually clear, opening and closing on E and languishing mostly in major mode but also with shades of Mixolydian and Lydian.

Likewise the twittering of the second movement (AdaAdagiogio religiosoreligioso) transports the listener to a sound-world of artifice and high refinement. Much of this is based on bird songs that Bartók noted during a visit to Asheville, North Carolina, the year before; the central Trio section contains much of the ethereal “night music” of Bartók’s early piano works like Out of Doors. The finale (AllegroAllegro vivacevivace) recalls somewhat the texture and feel of the Concerto for Orchestra, and recapitulates many of the first movement’s ideas, albeit in more strikingly contrapuntal form. The Concerto concludes in a deep sense of calm and transport.

—Paul J. Horsley

Bartók’s Piano Concerto No. 3 was composed in 1945.

György Sándor presented the world premiere of the Third Concerto, on February 8, 1946, with Eugene Ormandy and The Philadelphia Orchestra. Most recently on subscription, the work was performed by Yefim Bronfman and in February 2000.

The Fabulous Philadelphians recorded the Concerto in 1946 with Sándor and Ormandy for CBS.

Bartók scored the piece for two flutes (II doubling piccolo), two (II doubling English horn), two (II doubling bass ), two bassoons, four horns, two , three , tuba, timpani, percussion (bass drum, cymbals, snare drum, tam-tam, triangle, xylophone), strings, and solo piano.

Performance time is approximately 25 minutes.

Symphony in C major (“Great”)

Franz Schubert Born in Vienna, January 31, 1797 Died there, November 19, 1828

The popular image of Schubert as a shy, neglected genius who tossed off immortal songs on the backs of menus is finally beginning to crumble. Given the rather limited professional opportunities available to a young composer in Vienna during the 1820s, Schubert’s career flourished and was clearly heading to new heights when he died at age 31, just 20 months after Beethoven. The first of the great Viennese composers actually born in the city, Schubert enjoyed the best musical education available, was a member of the Vienna Boys’ , studied with Antonio Salieri, and gradually found his music being championed by leading performers of the time.

Yet the older picture of the neglected Schubert did register some realities. He composed many works, especially smaller ones, at amazing speed, and as a teenager might write three, four, or more songs in a single day. And although his music was widely published, performed, and praised, this considerable exposure was generally limited to domestic genres, such as songs, dances, and keyboard music. Only near the end of his life did Schubert’s piano sonatas and substantial chamber compositions begin to reach a larger public and audiences beyond Vienna. With some justification on either account, therefore, one can tell a happy story or a sad one about Schubert’s career. One can speak of a brilliant young composer whose fortunes were clearly ever on the rise, or of a pathetic genius who never received the full recognition he deserved before his untimely death.

Learning His Craft So, too, one can tell differing tales about his symphonies. None of them was performed in public during his lifetime. Very sad indeed. On the other hand, Schubert heard his symphonies played—it was not left for his inner ear simply to imagine what they would sound like in real time and space. If this situation seems paradoxical, it is because Schubert wrote most of his symphonies as part of a learning process and specifically to be played by small private orchestras at school or by what we would consider community orchestras.

His First Symphony dates from 1813, when he was 16, and the next five followed at the rate of about one a year. Schubert later discounted these initial efforts, as he did many early compositions. Around 1823 he was asked to supply a work for performance, but responded that he had “nothing for full orchestra that [he] could send out into the world with a clear conscience.” Yet by this point he had written all but his final symphony, the one we hear tonight. Five years later, in a letter to a publisher, Schubert mentioned “three operas, a Mass, and a symphony,” as if all his earlier pieces in those genres did not exist or matter. And in many ways, they did not.

Rivaling Beethoven And so the Ninth, one might say, is Schubert’s only complete symphony, the one he felt was fully mature and intended for the public. It was meant to be

judged in comparison with Beethoven, the only living symphonic composer of real consequence and the figure who dominated Viennese musical life. Schubert revered him above all other composers.

Schubert prepared a long time to write his last and longest symphony, and not just by producing the six earlier ones (as well as various unfinished symphonies, including the “Unfinished” of 1822). In 1824, after more than a year of serious illness, Schubert wrote an anguished letter to one of his closest friends in which he lamented his personal and professional state. Near the end, however, the tone turns more optimistic as he discloses his career plans. Having failed in the world of opera, completely dominated by Rossini at the time, Schubert decided to turn with new determination to the Beethovenian realm of instrumental music—chamber, keyboard, and orchestral:

I seem once again to have composed two operas for nothing. Of songs I have not written many new ones, but I have tried my hand at several instrumental works, for I wrote two string quartets and an octet, and I want to write another quartet; in fact, I intend to pave the way towards a grand symphony in that manner. … The latest in Vienna is that Beethoven is to give a concert at which he is to produce his new symphony, three movements from the new Mass, and a new overture. God willing, I, too, am thinking of giving a similar concert next year.

The symphony he is paving the way for we hear tonight. The symphony of Beethoven’s that was about to be premiered in Vienna was the Ninth, a work that would leave its mark on Schubert’s own symphony.

During the next year Schubert continued to write chamber and keyboard music leading to his grand symphony, and he began to enjoy real professional success at the highest level in Vienna. Beethoven’s own chamber musicians, most importantly the violinist Ignaz Schuppanzigh, took up Schubert’s cause and performed his works alongside the master’s in high-profile concerts. Then, in the summer of 1825, Schubert made the lengthiest, longest, and happiest excursion of his life. Together with Johann Michael Vogl, a famous opera singer who was the foremost interpreter of his songs, he went to Steyr, Linz, Gmunden, Salzburg, and Gastein.

Schubert informed friends that he was writing a symphony, undoubtedly the grand project for which he had been preparing. One of the most famous of Schubert legends is that this symphony is lost. Yet the so-called “Gastein” Symphony is none other than the “Great” C- major Symphony, which is traditionally thought to date from 1828. Not only is there considerable stylistic and circumstantial confirmation to support this claim, but also scientific evidence of the handwriting and watermarks of the manuscript. The issue is important because it shows that the generally optimistic and extroverted “Great” Symphony came from one of the happiest times of Schubert’s life and not from his darker and more introspective last year, shortly before his death.

“This, My Symphony” Friends report that Schubert had a “very special predilection” for his “Grand Symphony” written at Gastein. Certainly the scene of its composition was ideal. In the longest letters he ever wrote, intended for his brother Ferdinand but never sent, Schubert described the inspiring beauty of his surroundings, particularly near the mountains and lakes of Gmunden, a vast expanse and majesty that is heard in the Symphony. Only Beethoven had written a longer and more ambitious symphony before this, the mighty Ninth, whose “Ode to Joy” theme Schubert briefly quotes in his own last movement. Although never performed in public during his lifetime, Schubert most likely heard the piece in a reading by the Conservatory orchestra. The Symphony was not premiered until 10 years after Schubert’s death, when recovered the work from the composer’s brother and gave it to his friend Felix Mendelssohn to present in Leipzig.

A Closer Look The sights Schubert devoured during his extended summer trip in the Austrian lakes and mountains resonate with the majestic horn call that opens the first movement’s introduction (AndanteAndanteAndante). Schumann stated that “it leads us into regions which, to our best recollections, we had never before explored.” Lush string writing follows and leads seamlessly into the movement proper (Allegro,Allegro, ma nonnon troppotroppo), which has more than a touch of Rossinian lightness. The opening horn theme majestically returns in the coda, presented by the full orchestra.

The magnificent slow movement (AndanteAndante con motomoto), in the somber key of A minor, opens with a lovely wind melody—first heard from the solo —over one of Schubert’s characteristic “wandering” accompaniments. The theme is contrasted with a more lyrical one in F major. As in many of his mature compositions, Schubert eventually interrupts the movement with a violent outburst of loud, dissonant, agonizing pain, what musicologist Hugh Macdonald calls “Schubert’s volcanic temper.” Such moments, usually placed within contexts of extraordinary lyric beauty, may allude in some way to the broken health that intruded so fatefully in Schubert’s life and that would lead to his early death.

The Scherzo (AllegroAllegro vivacevivace) reminds us that, in addition to his songs, Schubert was one of the great dance composers of his day. (He wrote hundreds of them, some of which, in 1827 and 1828, were published in collections together with dances by Johann Strauss, Sr.). The vigorous opening contrasts with a middle section waltz before the opening is repeated. The finale (AllegroAllegro vivacevivace) is a perpetual motion energy that only builds in intensity near the end, concluding what Schumann famously remarked is a piece of “heavenly length.”

—Christopher H. Gibbs

Schubert composed his Symphony in C major in 1825.

The first Philadelphia Orchestra performances of Schubert’s “Great” Symphony took place in January 1903, with Fritz Scheel on the podium. The most recent subscription performance was in January 2009, when Christoph Eschenbach conducted the piece.

The Philadelphians have recorded the Symphony two times: in 1941 with Arturo Toscanini for RCA, and in 1966 with Eugene Ormandy for CBS. Recent live performance recordings of the work by Wolfgang Sawallisch and Eschenbach with the Orchestra are also available through numerous online digital music services.

Schubert’s scoring calls for pairs of flutes, oboes, clarinets, bassoons, horns, and trumpets, three trombones, timpani, and strings.

The C-major Symphony runs approximately 50 minutes in performance .

Program notes © 2011. All rights reserved. Program notes may not be reprinted without written permission from The Philadelphia Orchestra Association.

GENERAL TERMS Arpeggio: A broken chord (with notes played in succession instead of together) Atonality: A term used to describe music that is not tonal, especially organized without reference to key or tonal center Cadenza: A passage or section in a style of brilliant improvisation, usually inserted near the end of a movement or composition Chorale: A hymn tune of the German Protestant Church, or one similar in style ChorChord:d: The simultaneous sounding of three or more tones Chromatic: Relating to tones foreign to a given key (scale) or chord Coda: A concluding section or passage added in order to confirm the impression of finality Harmonic: One of a series of tones (partial tones) which usually accompany the prime tone produced by a string, an organ-pipe, the human voice, etc. The prime tone is the strong tone produced by the vibration of the whole string, the entire column of air in the pipe, etc. The partial tones are produced by the vibration of fractional parts of that string or air column. These tones are obtained, on any which is stopped, by lightly touching a nodal point of a string (any point or line in a vibrating body that remains at rest during the vibration of the other parts of the body). Op.: Abbreviation for opus, a term used to indicate the chronological position of a composition within a composer’s output. Opus numbers are not always reliable because they are often applied in the order of publication rather than composition. Scherzo: Literally “a joke.” Usually the third movement of symphonies and quartets that was introduced by Beethoven to replace the minuet. The scherzo is followed by a gentler section called a trio, after which the scherzo is repeated. Its characteristics are a rapid tempo in triple time, vigorous rhythm, and humorous contrasts. : The form in which the first movements (and sometimes others) of symphonies are usually cast. The sections are exposition, development, and recapitulation, the last sometimes followed by a coda. The exposition is the introduction of the musical ideas, which are then “developed.” In the recapitulation, the exposition is repeated with modifications. Staccato: Detached, with each note separated from the next and quickly released Syncopation: A shift of rhythmic emphasis off the beat Triplet: A group of three equal notes to be performed in the time of two of like value in the established rhythm Tutti: All; full orchestra

THE SPEED OF MUSIC (T(Tempo)empo) Allegretto: A tempo between andante and allegro Allegro: Bright, fast Andante: Walking speed Moto: Motion, speed, movement Presto: Very fast Senza misura: Not in strict time Sereno: Calm, peaceful

TEMPO MODIFIERS Ma non troppo: But not too much MoltMolto:o: Very