February 20, 21, 2016

Samuel Barber American composer born 1910, West Chester, Pennsylvania; died 1981, New York City

Overture to “The School for Scandal”

First Classics performance: November 19, 1950, conducted by William Steinberg; most recent performance: March 4, 2001, conducted by JoAnn Falletta; duration 8 minutes

Precocious as a child, American composer Samuel Barber entered the prestigious Curtis Institute of Music at 14, where he studied piano, composition, conducting and voice. Listeners who admire Barber’s original scores will not be surprised to learn that it was the composer’s voice training which exerted the greatest pull on his musical development. In fact, as an aspiring baritone soloist, Barber became advanced enough to present professional recitals in Vienna and the United States, in addition to a featured appearance on the NBC radio network in 1935. In sum, it seems natural that a vocal and expressly melodic instinct would inform all of Barber’s compositions, including his works for full orchestra, several of which have become mainstays in the concert repertoire. Among his most frequently performed symphonic scores are the exceedingly popular Adagio for Strings (1938), Violin Concerto (1940), Piano Concerto (1962), and Capricorn Concerto for flute, oboe, trumpet (1944). Inspired by a play by Richard Brinsley Sheridan, the Overture to the School for Scandal was composed in 1932 to fulfill Barber’s graduation thesis requirement from the Curtis Institute. The masterful setting of the overture’s melodic, harmonic and structural parameters were hardly to be expected from a composer of just 22 years of age. The opus revealed what was to become Barber’s life-long inclination to compose works with literary associations, resulting in a wide repertoire of songs and symphonic works reflecting the diverse styles of Joyce, Shelley, Yeats, Rilke, Neruda and others. As for Sheridan’s original of 1777, The School for Scandal is a ribald theater farce. The play pokes merciless fun at pretentious English society, as the sincere but naive love between Charles and Maria is saved in the nick of time from the salacious designs of their blundering superiors. Given the hilarious bantering on-stage -- “Those who gossip are as important as those who create it” -- Barber’s musical digest is likewise charged with delightful witticisms and ironic turns of phrase. The tempo and tone is up-beat and breezy, full of symphonic sparkle and embellished by sassy figurations which tease the moods and modes on the fly. Along the way, lovely, lyrical phrases in the strings are balanced by expressive moments for the solo clarinet and English horn, among other highlights from the savvy orchestration. As in the case of Sheridan’s original, it is all over too quickly. ------

Ludwig van Beethoven German composer and pianist born: December 17, 1770, Bonn; died: March 26, 1827, Vienna

Concerto for Piano No. 4 in G Major, Op.58 Allegro moderato Andante con moto Rondo: Vivace

First Classics performance: May 3, 1936, with pianist Stanley Fletcher, conducted by Creighton Churchill; most recent performance: October 9, 2011, with pianist William Wolfram, conducted by JoAnn Falletta; duration 33 minutes

Beethoven was fortunate to enjoy the rare gift of a magnificent mental ear -- while composing, he could hear perfectly all of the pitches and harmonies in his head. But we must also note that earning a livelihood depended upon his reputation as one of the great piano virtuosos of his time. And like Mozart before him, Beethoven composed a lot of music for his own use, including his piano concertos. It is in that regard that his hearing loss had to be the most compromising. Composer Louis Spohr noted: “Beethoven’s playing was not a treat, for in the first place the piano was badly out of tune, which Beethoven minded little since he did not hear it. In forte passages the poor deaf man pounded on the keys till the strings jangled, and in the piano passages he played so softly that whole groups of notes were omitted.” Apart from that sad reality, Beethoven never lost touch with daily life and revealed a keen interest in the technical development of the piano. In fact, the composer was on the scene at exactly the right moment to take full advantage of important technical developments. For example, the new ‘pianoforte’ as it was known (literally: soft-loud) could produce a range of dynamic contrasts which compared favorably with today’s modern concert grands. And Beethoven did all he could to encourage various manufacturers. He once wrote to a leading piano builder: “It is certain that the current ways of playing the pianoforte are still the most uncultivated of all the instruments. I am glad, my dear fellow, that you are one who comprehends and feels that one may sing on the pianoforte, if one is capable of feeling.”

Beethoven was speaking about the new Viennese six-octave instrument which not only added a full octave of expressive potential, but was the first keyboard to be triple-strung, i.e. with three strings under each hammer. Beyond that, the pedal mechanism to shift the hammers was so accurate a player could strike just one string at a time. Indeed, Beethoven calls for the effect throughout the Andante with the instruction una corda. Our modern-day pianists achieve the effect by employing the soft pedal on a concert grand. But of course, where Beethoven inspired the greatest changes in both piano building and performance technique is found in his legacy to the repertoire: 32 sonatas, five splendid concertos, double and triple concertos and a broad array of other works which feature the keyboard in a variety of roles. Completed in 1805 and dedicated to Archduke Rudolf, Concerto No. 4 begins with a deflecting surprise - as if the soloist were browsing over the keys barely aware that an orchestra was standing by. This is a major departure from the classical norm of a big intro from the full orchestra, first and second themes, etc. But in a moment the improvised feel transforms into an orchestral bouquet, with full-scale pyrotechnics from the keyboard. The opening to the second movement Andante is likewise unusual -- we first hear a stark recitative from the imperial strings, with angular rhythms poised over plaintive replies from the soloist in E minor. The yin-yang interplay is doubtless a symbolic dialogue -- a kind of intermezzo -- about which Beethoven gave no direct hint. A dreamy final lyric from the soloist closes the scene. En garde. A brilliant dawn is about to break, as a wake-up call from the morning breeze captures the scene in full. Back in G major, the dance-like energy is one of the happiest and most playful movements from the desk of Beethoven -- the bringer of Promethian joy. ------

Béla Bartók (1881-1945) Hungarian composer, pianist and musicologist born: March 25, 1881, Nagyszentmiklós; died: September 26,1945, New York City

Concerto for Orchestra Introduction: Andante non troppo; Allegro vivace Giuoco delle coppie (Game of Pairs): Allegretto scherzando Elegia: Andante non troppo Intermezzo interrotto: Allegretto Finale: Pesante; Presto

In 1940, the legendary maestro Fritz Reiner and violinist Joseph Szigeti convinced the Koussevitsky Foundation to commission a new orchestral work from Bela Bartók. The composer had just emigrated from his native Hungary to the United States, taking up residence in New York City at the age of 60. But his personal circumstances were exceedingly strained, due to the declining state of his health and the dire condition of his finances. It was therefore all the more difficult for him to adjust to the frenetic tempo of his new environment. Bartók’s letters reveal exasperation at every turn from the normal difficulty of learning a new language late in life to the frustrations of getting lost for hours in the Manhattan subways. He also possessed a measure of stubborn pride which meant he would not accept any commission that might possibly be construed as a charitable gesture. Happily, Reiner and Szigeti found the requisite finesse and by 1943 the Concerto for Orchestra was complete. Bartók provided the following commentary for the world premiere of the work by the Boston Symphony under conductor Serge Koussevitsky in December of 1944: “The general mood of the work represents, apart from the jesting second movement, a gradual transition from the sternness of the first movement and the lugubrious death-song of the third, to the life assertion of the last one. “The title of this symphony-like orchestral work is explained by its tendency to treat the single instrument in a ‘concertante’ or soloistic manner. The ‘virtuoso’ treatment appears, for instance, in the fugato sections of the development of the first movement (brass instruments), or in the ‘perpetuum mobile’ styled passage of the principal theme in the last movement (strings), and especially, in the second movement, in which pairs of instruments consecutively appear with brilliant passages.”

If ever one might be intoxicated by the lavish color, energy and nuance of 20th century orchestral music, it will happen here. Featuring each of the sections of winds, brass, percussion and strings separately and in myriad combinations, the Concerto for Orchestra is an instrumental tour de force, with contrasts that blend from the macrosonic stratosphere to lush delicacy. The work opens with quiescent low strings, over which are patched high-string shimmers and pastel woodwinds, with tuneful motifs on which the entire piece is conceived. In the second movement, ‘Game of Pairs,’ a brief signal in the snare drum precedes the interaction of five different instruments, paired at specific intervals: bassoons in sixths, oboes in thirds, clarinets in sevenths and trumpets in major seconds. For digression, the nocturne-like Elegia offers a misty memoir with evocative bird calls and dark, full-throated chants in the strings. The effects seem far more surreal than Impressionistic -- perhaps a dreamy delirium of something or someone long lost (Bartók’s music is replete with such souvenirs). This is followed by the sweetly seductive Intermezzo. After an opening in the woodwinds spiced with augmented fourths, we are treated to an alluring gypsy tune in the choir of low and mid-register strings. A brash and bawdy distraction interrupts momentarily before we are again treated to the theme from the soul of Eastern Europe. Finally, the maddening pace of the fifth movement takes flight as if upon the winds of a great storm of hail and fire. Many surprises here: folk tunes, biting dissonances, deft counterpoint, irreverent rhythms, frightful chaos, brazen peals in the brass. Spectacular..! ------program notes by Edward Yadzinski ------