La Souplesse

Patrick Jones,

Kristine West Denton, Pinao

Program Notes by Richard Ingham [http://www.saxingham.com]

Guy Lacour (1932‐2013) had highly successful careers as a saxophonist, as an educator, and as a composer. He made a major contribution to saxophone study material, and also to recital repertoire. After his studies in with he became a commercial saxophonist, working in several bands and in many theatres in Paris. For many years from 1961 he was a member of the celebrated Marcel Mule (on the tenor instrument), as well as being a featured saxophonist with the and the . Lacour began teaching in 1975 and eventually became Director of the Conservatoire at Mantes‐la‐Ville; from 1992 he concentrated entirely on composition.

His Hommage à Jacques Ibert for and orchestra, or as here for saxophone and , was composed in 1972. The work is modeled on Ibert’s own Concertino da Camera, with some strong direct references (Ibert himself had written an Hommage à Mozart in 1957). Written for saxophonist Jean‐Marie Londeix, the work is in two movements.

The first movement opens with witty yet taut statements from both saxophone and piano. The saxophone maintains an almost relentless linear development, sometimes veering into atonality, at other times a more dense and stretched tonality. The dialogue between the two reaches a new intensity before the resigned throwaway ending: one of many references to Ibert's Concertino. The flowing angular lines in this first movement are typical of Lacour's writing and very challenging for the performer.

As in the Concertino, the second movement lingers on a slow unaccompanied passage for the saxophone, which then continues as a searching line against dense chords. Again, Lacour succeeds in conveying a sense of insistence in his skillful writing. The solo section for piano is in a ruminative mood, before building over a pedal bass. The saxophone re‐enters, fading into calm, before the finale (a de facto third movement, another reference to the Concertino).

This finale sets off at a renewed fast tempo, featuring quite an argumentative dialogue. More interweaving flowing lines follow before the lengthy saxophone cadenza exploits both the altissimo and lowest registers. A huge amount of control is required by the performer here, in order to effect smooth movement across the range. The cadenza finally dovetails into a piano episode, before both instruments build towards the coda. The music falls over itself at the end, as if the characters are cascading out of the final frame of the cartoon.

Eugène Bozza (1905‐1991) wrote his Aria for alto saxophone and piano in 1936 in Rome. He had won the Prix de Rome, and part of his prize was to live and work in that city. It is likely that the work was written quite quickly, when, after a year in Rome, people began enquiring as to what he had produced. Although originally a violinist, Bozza wrote a considerable amount of music for wind instruments, including the well‐known Nuages for saxophone quartet. He had studied in both Paris and Rome, and had careers as both violinist and conductor, before becoming Director of the École Nationale de Musique in Valenciennes in 1950. It was while in this post that he wrote much of his music. Aria was written for saxophonist Marcel Mule and the music is inspired by the third movement aria from J.S.Bach's Pastorale in F BWV 590 for organ.

The piano sets the scene with a gradually unfolding chord over a gently insistent pulse which continues through the entire piece. The saxophone line unfolds horizontally with beautifully balanced moments of repose and then movement. The piano bass line acts as a contrapuntal line to the saxophone with a contrasting rhythmic identity, and evolves under the right hand chords, whose colour, in contrast to the mesmeric pulse, is provided by chord additions and delicious suspensions. Some direct quotes from the Bach organ work appear in the saxophone line, and the whole is an exquisite equilibrium of large and small scale movement and relaxation. It's not surprising that Bozza's Aria has been successfully transcribed for many other solo instruments.

Belgian saxophonist and composer Willy Bauweraerts(b. 1956) studied in Antwerp, Rotterdam and London in classical, jazz and rock saxophone. He teaches saxophone at the Academies of Hoboken and Berchem, and writes music for television and many varied ensembles. Trilogie for alto saxophone and piano was written in 1997 and makes considerable use of extended saxophone techniques, in an admirably integrated musical way.

La Souplesse (Flexibility) in the title of the first movement is certainly a requirement from the saxophone soloist. The work begins with thoughtful low note resonance, before immediately climbing to the altissimo register. Balancing the registers, the composer provides a passage built on harmonic overtones before the piano makes its first entry. Moving lines follow, with the use of multiphonics for rhythmic emphasis. The saxophone then gives an aural illusion of two part counterpoint, by means of rapid lines in the lower register interspersed with leaps into the upper registers. The dialectic between the two instruments builds, leading to some high and expressive melodic writing in the saxophone, before a recapitulation and a rousing finale.

La Tristesse (Sadness) has a mournful solo saxophone opening incorporating some effective bisbigliando, or colour trills. The piano creeps in under the continuing saxophone line, as if it had always been there, and now we hear a majestic cantabile line on the saxophone. The mood remains mournful, perhaps looking back with regret. The earlier bisbigliando character is developed into more independent lines, with distortion brought about by fingerings producing non‐tempered notes giving the effect of a shepherd pipe from a distant hill. The piece disappears into nothing, through repeated phrases (identical to the opening) ‐ a successful effect of great simplicity.

La Vitesse (Speed) is exactly that, and with further requirements for suppleness thrown in. The gently loping introduction recreates the witty and flowing style of mid‐twentieth century French composers. More false fingerings for bisbigliando effects are casually included, before the saxophone moves into some neat register‐hopping, gradually introducing faster patterns. Out of nowhere the saxophone takes off in a substantial cadenza, developing previous ideas. The piano is invited back again, both instruments seemingly reluctant to take the initiative, before we reach the return of the main theme. The texture now is busier and more dense, and the work bows out with a well sculpted and cheeky unison passage.

J. S. Bach (1685‐1750) wrote the Orchestral Suite No. 2 in B minor, BWV 1067 in the 1730s (probably after his orchestral suites 1, 3 and 4) and it may have been his last orchestral work. He was appointed Cantor of St Thomas's Church in Leipzig in 1723 where his duties were schoolmaster, director of music at several churches, and composer for civic occasions. During the first four years of his time in Leipzig he composed 150 cantatas, later specializing in keyboard music. In 1736 he was made Royal Court Composer to the King of Saxony which gave him chance to visit Dresden quite frequently. He was also in demand for organ recitals in other cities.

Patrick Jones' excellent and sensitive arrangement of the “Overture” gives the original part to the . If the saxophone had been invented at the time, J. S. Bach would undoubtedly have written for such an expressive and versatile instrument. Flute, and violin were interchangeable solo instruments in Bach's day. Some scholars argue that the second Orchestral Suite was originally for violin solo, others that it was for oboe. This leads today's saxophonists to feel justified in making extensive use of baroque material. Before 1800 a score was adjusted to fit the available orchestra; after this the orchestra was adjusted to fit the score.

One of the principal instrumental forms of the baroque period, the suite was a sequence of movements based on dance forms, prefaced in the orchestral versions by an overture. The form of the B minor Overture is standard for that of the day, beginning with a "French" overture style featuring mannered dotted‐note figures in a slow tempo. The lengthy and expansive fugal section which follows explores a range of key centres before closing with a slow finale. This arrangement allows the complex contrapuntal lines from the original orchestra version to shine through in the piano part with great clarity.

Frank Martin (1890 ‐1974) wrote his Ballade for saxophone and orchestra in 1938. After studying in Geneva, the mostly self‐taught Swiss composer lived in Zurich, Rome and Paris before settling once again in Geneva. He studied at the Dalcroze Institute where he remained as a teacher of improvisation and rhythmic theory, and was one of the first composers outside of Schoenberg's circle to use serialism in his compositions. His later life was spent in the Netherlands, during which time he also taught in Cologne, where his students included Karlheinz Stockhausen. One of six Ballades written for solo instruments with piano or orchestra, the Ballade for saxophone was written for the saxophonist Sigurd Rascher. The form is almost that of a fantasy, and relates to the piano ballades that Chopin created; long dramatic works, inspired by heroic poetic ballads.

The introduction has the saxophone exploring the lowest register to great effect, accompanied by insistent piano chords underpinned by a pedal bass which becomes more active in commenting on the saxophone line. A new tempo is suggested by the piano, insistent and pushing, eventually drawing the saxophone in. The return to the slower tempo is marked by a hesitant and questioning role by the piano, before the saxophone rejoins to create a dialogue. Another lift in speed sees a brittle piano part heralding the saxophone in more assertive mood. The piano takes over the dramatic content before a brief recapitulation of the opening section gives way to a saxophone cadenza. The saxophone then launches headlong into the finale, with much intensity between the instruments, followed by a bravura ending, featuring some extreme altissimo explorations.

Guy Lacour wrote his Étude de Concert in 1992. This relatively short recital piece for solo alto saxophone has a reflective opening, which gradually opens out into soaring song‐like lines. The ensuing delicate conversation between registers identifies itself as perfect study material while also being ideal for the concert platform. Occasionally the character of the piece resembles recitative. As in many Lacour works, the technical requirements are considerable, and the performer has to rise to the challenge of making the music shine through the pure technique. A melody line exists, but the performer has to be aware of all the surrounding parameters in order to allow it to sing.

Since writing Nabucco in 1842, Giuseppe Verdi (1813‐1901) had been the most celebrated composer of Italian opera, and was, like Wagner at the same time, revolutionizing the concept of opera. He reduced the role of arias, emphasising the ensemble, and required his singers to offer less bel canto, more drama. He wrote the opera Rigoletto in 1851. This tragic love story, Verdi's first great operatic success, demonstrated his considered approach to operatic form. One of only two formal arias in the opera is Caro Nome (Dear Name), which became among Verdi's most celebrated arias. Here Gilda, daughter of court jester Rigoletto, sings of her love for the Duke of Mantua, who she thinks is a student. The saxophone is considered to be an instrument with striking vocal characteristics, and in this arrangement Patrick Jones makes the instrument serve the music in a highly successful way. The elegance and poise of the aria is perfectly captured here.