Program Notes for Classics 1: the Bohemian Spirit • Smetana – “The Moldau” from Má Vlast • Beethoven – Piano Concerto No

Program Notes for Classics 1: The Bohemian Spirit • Smetana – “The Moldau” from Má vlast • Beethoven – Piano Concerto No. 3 in C minor, Op. 37 • Dvořák – Symphony No. 7 in D minor, Op. 70 Bedřich Smetana “The Moldau” from Má vlast (My Country) THE VITAL STATS Composer: born March 2, 1824, Leitomischl (now Litomyšl), Bohemia; died May 12, 1884, Prague Works composed: Smetana wrote his six patriotic symphonic poems Má vlast between 1872-79. The second of these, The Moldau, was composed in three weeks during November 1874. World premiere: Adolf Čech conducted the first performance The Moldau on April 4, 1875, in Prague Instrumentation: piccolo, 2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 4 horns, 2 trumpets, 3 trombones, tuba, timpani, bass drum, cymbals, triangle, 2 harps and strings. Estimated duration: 15, 11, 11 and 13 minutes, respectively During the years 1874-1879, Bedřich Smetana worked on a series of symphonic poems titled Má Vlast (My Country). The most famous of these, The Moldau (Vltava), written in late November-early December of 1874, musically represents the river Moldau, which flows through the countryside near Smetana’s childhood home in Bohemia. Smetana’s family was determined to preserve their national heritage and their native tongue from extinction by Austria’s systematic oppression of all things Czech. Because of that country’s deliberate attempts to destroy Czech as a living language, Smetana himself learned only German in school and spoke no Czech until adulthood. He felt it his mission as a composer to find and develop the Czech voice in music; this goal became the defining factor of Smetana’s compositional style and the driving spirit behind his creative impulses. While Smetana did not himself ascribe overtly nationalistic sentiments to Má Vlast, it is clearly a response to his own feelings about the rising movement of Czech nationalism, long stifled by the ruling Habsburgs of Austria and later by the leaders of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. Smetana specified eight distinct sections of The Moldau in the score: 1) Two springs (one warm, one cold) which form the source of the Vltava (two flutes), and the river itself (full orchestra, river theme first in E minor, then E major). 2) The forest and hunting (horn calls). 3) Peasant wedding (dance rhythms). 4) Moonlight Dance of the Nymphs (soft flute theme in thirds; slow statement in strings). 5) Vltava returns (full orchestra in E minor). 6) St. Johns Rapids (full orchestra). 7) The Vltava in broad stream (full orchestra). 8) The Vltava salutes Vysehrad (the old citadel) and flows on into the Elbe (full orchestra). One would expect the source of the melody Smetana used in Die Moldau to be Czech; in fact, the original tune, Ack, Vảrmeland du sköna, actually comes from Sweden, and was used in a Swedish play, The Vermland People, by F. A. Dahlgren in 1846. Smetana, who spent time in Sweden, knew Dahlgren and taught music to Dahlgren’s sister-in-law. Many have also noted its resemblance to the folk song from which the Israeli national anthem Hatikvah is derived; however, the similarity of these two songs is entirely coincidental. Ludwig van Beethoven Piano Concerto No. 3 in C minor, Op. 37 THE VITAL STATS Composer: born December 16, 1770, Bonn; died March 26, 1827, Vienna Work composed: 1796 – 1803. Dedicated to Prince Louis Ferdinand of Prussia. World premiere: April 5, 1803. Beethoven conducted from the piano at the Theater an der Wien. Instrumentation: solo piano, 2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 2 horns, 2 trumpets, timpani and strings. Estimated duration: 34 minutes Ludwig van Beethoven began working on his third piano concerto in 1796, composed most of it in 1800, and continued tinkering with it until the day of its premiere at one of his subscription concerts. The over- ambitious program actually featured three premieres: the Piano Concerto No. 3, the Symphony No. 2 and the oratorio Christ on the Mount of Olives. Perhaps fearing this program would not prove substantial enough, Beethoven also included his First Symphony. Time constraints prevented Beethoven from writing down the solo part in time for the first performance. When Beethoven asked his friend Ignaz von Seyfried to turn pages for him during the concert, Seyfried had no idea how difficult this seemingly simple task would be. Seyfried recalled: “I saw almost nothing but empty leaves; at the most on one page or the other a few Egyptian hieroglyphs wholly unintelligible to me scribbled down to serve as clues for him; for he played nearly all of the solo part from memory, since, as was so often the case, he had not had time to put it all down on paper. He gave me a secret glance whenever he was at the end of one of the invisible passages, and my scarcely concealed anxiety not to miss the decisive moment amused him greatly and he laughed heartily at the jovial supper which we ate afterwards.” With the third piano concerto, Beethoven created a new stylistic framework for the genre. The Allegro con brio is structured around a short, unadorned rhythmic motif and a contrasting lyrical countermelody, which become the basis for a stormy musical dialogue between orchestra and soloist. In the Largo, Beethoven made a significant – and radical – decision regarding tonality. The key, E major, is harmonically very distant from that of C minor, an unheard-of choice in concerto writing for the time. In another departure from convention, it is the soloist who unveils the slow theme and its accompanying melody, before the orchestra. Later the soloist becomes the orchestra’s accompanist, with a stream of flowing arpeggios flowing quietly underneath the primary melody. The refrain of the Rondo: Allegro has a bouncy energy, which neatly offsets several contrasting interludes that range from tautly edgy to lyrically expansive. The two outer movements perfectly capture both the Sturm und Drang and the heroic qualities that Beethoven perceived in the key of C minor, a key he chose for many of his most significant works, including the Symphony No. 5. Beethoven had another motivation for employing C minor in a piano concerto; by doing so, he paid homage to Mozart, specifically Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 24, K. 491, also in C minor. During a rehearsal of K. 491, Beethoven remarked to the English composer J. B. Cramer, “Ah, Cramer, we shall never be able to do anything like that.” In his biography, Lewis Lockwood respectfully disagrees. “The Third breaks new ground in regions where Mozart had never traveled – in its dramatization of musical ideas, its juxtapositions of intensity with lyricism, [and] its decisive contrasts.” Antonín Dvořák Symphony No. 7 in D minor, Op. 70 THE VITAL STATS Composer: born September 8, 1841, Nelahozeves, near Kralupy (now the Czech Republic); died May 1, 1904, Prague. Work composed: December 13, 1884 – March 17, 1885 in Prague; commissioned by the Royal Philharmonic Society in London. Dvořák revised the second movement, shortening it, after the premiere. The revised version, heard today, was first performed on November 29, 1885, in Prague’s Rudolfinum Concert Hall. World premiere: Dvořák conducted the London Philharmonic Society at St. James’ Hall in London on April 22, 1885. Instrumentation: piccolo, 2 flutes, 2 oboes, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 4 horns, 2 trumpets, 3 trombones, timpani and strings. Estimated duration: 38 minutes Some artists create their best works under stress. In 1884, Antonín Dvořák, feeling pressure on both personal and professional fronts, managed to write what many have called his greatest symphony, outshining even the “New World.” Late in 1882, Dvořák’s mother Anna died. Dvořák, who had been devoted to her, was devastated by the loss. In addition, he was also saddened by the plight of his countryman and colleague Bedřich Smetana, whose increasingly erratic behavior, caused by an advanced case of untreated syphilis, led to a mental collapse in 1884; Smetana subsequently died in a lunatic asylum. Professionally, Dvořák was under pressure of a happier, though no less stressful, kind. The Royal Philharmonic Society of London bestowed an honorary membership on Dvořák, which included a commission to write and conduct a new symphony. “Now I am occupied by my new symphony for London, and wherever I go I have nothing else in mind but my work, which must be such as to make a stir in the world and God grant that it may!” wrote Dvořák to his friend, Judge Antonín Rus. The expectations Dvořák laid on his own shoulders, to write a symphony that would “make a stir,” were specifically inspired by Johannes Brahms’ Third Symphony. Dvořák had recently heard it performed in Berlin, and wanted to write a symphony of his own that would measure up to Brahms’. Brahms was both friend and mentor to Dvořák, and the Czech composer wanted to match, if not exceed, Brahms’ expectations of him as a symphonist. In an 1885 letter to his publisher Fritz Simrock, Dvořák wrote, “I want to justify Brahms’ words to me when he said, ‘I imagine your symphony will be quite unlike this one [the Symphony No. 6].’ There shall be no grounds for thinking he was wrong.” The public eagerly awaited Dvořák’s latest symphony, as did the musicians of the London Philharmonic; in fact, the orchestra began rehearsing the first movement before Dvořák had finished writing the last. Dvořák was gratified by the enthusiasm that greeted him and his symphony when he conducted the premiere in London. George Bernard Shaw praised the work, writing “The quick transitions from liveliness to mourning, the variety of rhythm and figure, the spirited movement, the occasional abrupt and melancholy pauses, and the characteristic harmonic progressions of Bohemian music are all coordinated … by Herr Dvořák with rare success.” However, Dvořák was even more pleased by the reception the symphony received when Hans von Bülow conducted it with the Berlin Philharmonic in 1889.

Load more