John Adams American composer born: February 15, 1947, Worcester, Massachusetts Century Rolls First Movement Manny’s Gym Hail Bop These are the first performances of this work on the Classics series; duration 30 minutes Born into a musical family, John Adams studied the clarinet with his father and went on to become a highly accomplished player. He performed with several prestigious orchestras and appeared as a soloist for the New York and Boston premieres of Walter Piston’s Concerto for Clarinet. However, during his undergraduate study at Harvard he concentrated on composition under Leon Kirchner. In 1972, Adams was appointed to the faculty of the San Francisco Conservatory. Adams’ best-known works include Grand Pianola Music, the colorful Harmonielehre and the opera Nixon in China. These and many of his other scores display the composer’s fluency with a composition technique known as ‘minimalism’ - where small kernels of sound are continuously repeated and mirrored with only the slightest changes over time. The result is a kind of ribbon of tone which evolves slowly into different fabrics and textures. About his piano concerto, Century Rolls of 1997, the composer writes: “The work came into the world bidden by the pianist Emanuel Ax, who wanted me to create a concerto for him and the Cleveland Orchestra. The impetus for the piece was a sudden realization I had one night while listening in a drowsy state to a CD of player-piano music from the 1920s. I was struck by how the medium of the piano roll itself left an indelible mark on the music, radically altering its essence in a way that later recording techniques like the tape recorder did not do. This minor epiphany provided the first and most important musical image for what was to become Century Rolls. “The music begins with a chirping twittering machine that unfolds in a gradual and regular manner. The piano enters in the low register with a reiterated figure in equal eighths in what is probably the most ‘mechanical’ of all the material in the entire concerto. Eventually a more extroverted mood takes over the foreground with a succession of brashly rhythmic, often jazzy, motives. “What follows is a gently rolling, amiable music for piano, low clarinets and plucked strings and harp. Whereas the opening movement seemed urged on by some kind of pace-maker electrical pulse, the music now seems to roll gently of its own free will, stopping now and then to linger on a note or a chord. “This relaxed music itself grows even more reflective and independent of the bar line, eventually ushering in a slow gymnopédie in 3/4 time (“Manny’s Gym”). The simple, repeated bass line and the harmonies it spawns control the shape of the entire movement. “In 1997, I overheard two people on a street corner talking about the famous comet of that year, but I mistook the name they mentioned. I thought they said “Hail Bop” - a great name for an astronomical event. Only later did I learn that it was named after the two astronomers who had discovered it, Dr. Hale and Dr. Bopp. So “Hail Bop,” although it couldn’t be a comet, came to be the last movement of Century Rolls. It is music full of the jabbing, stabbing syncopations characteristic of Bebop piano playing. In retrospect I realize also how much it was influenced by my exposition to the Studies for Player Piano by Conlon Nancarrow. Nancarrow’s brilliant, punchy piano sound is another manifestation of ‘art in the age of mechanical reproduction.’ “The piano moves in and out of precipitous situations with the ease of a roadrunner, and in one particularly climactic moment, the orchestra seems at its heels like a barking terrier. The contrast with the previous movements is stark but amusing. Where the first movement runs on a knock-free regularly pulsating engine and the second movement floats freely in the ether, “Hail Bop” lurches forward in great seizures of manic energy only to come to a stubborn halt and then start up all over again.” For reference, Gymnopédies are three piano pieces composed by Eric Satie in 1888, conjuring the dance-like movements in a classic gymnasium. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Ludwig van Beethoven German composer and pianist born: December 17, 1770, Bonn; died: March 26, 1827, Vienna Symphony No.3 in E-flat major, op.55 “Eroica” Allegro con brio Marcia Funebre - Adagio assai Scherzo: Allegro vivace Finale: Allegro molto First Classics performance: December 2, 1936, conducted by Lajos Shuk; most recent performance: May 31, 2009, conducted by JoAnn Falletta; duration 54 minutes Given his heralded status, we understand why Beethoven’s life and music have received immense attention for nearly two centuries. Beyond his creative gift, historians are keen to highlight Ludwig’s persona, defined as much by personal hardship as it was by his exalted gift for music. Family issues and his early hearing loss doubtless contributed to his gruff disposition, i.e. with regard to daily events and the people around him. Yet, through it all, Beethoven’s aspiring nature was that of a devoted idealist: he believed that music could lead to a universal “sursum corda” - “lifting the heart” - for the benefit of the world at large. A tall order. And while he only rarely noted his altruism in correspondence, he revealed a very lot in conversation with trusted friends, like the German writer Bettina Brentano von Arnim, who quoted Ludwig in a letter to Goethe: “When I open my eyes I must sigh, for what I see is contrary to my religion, and I must despise the world which does not know that music achieves a higher revelation than all wisdom and philosophy.” Those sentiments are confirmed by Beethoven’s catalog of original music, from his simplest songs and dances to grandiose concertos and symphonies. Clearly, the composer’s self-imposed mission was to send an uplifting message, even as his own life experiences were often severe or even harsh. For example, Beethoven’s only opera, Fidelio, glorifies the constancy of the ideal woman, although the composer himself was never able to secure an enduring feminine attachment. Despite knowing many debutantes and empathic ladies throughout his life, Ludwig remained a wounded but ever-hopeful swain. “Eroica” means Heroic, in exalted uppercase. While Symphony No.3 of 1804 is a prime example of the titled tribute, we also note a symbolic link to the composer’s story ballet of 1800 titled The Creatures of Prometheus - a tale about a self-sacrificing hero who performs benevolent deeds for mankind. The marvelous main theme of Prometheus is renewed in the Finale of Symphony No.3, not unlike the perennial revival of Prometheus himself. However, the original inspiration for the Eroica derived from Beethoven’s intent to honor the vision and courage of Napoleon Bonaparte. But when the French general appointed himself as Emperor, the composer was outraged and struck the dedication from the original manuscript, noting: “Is he too nothing more than an ordinary man? Now he too will trample on all human rights!” The new symphony was later rededicated to Prince Lobkowitz, a benefactor who sponsored the initial performances of the work. As for the ‘heroic’ motif, it was never in doubt. Beethoven simply inscribed the manuscript in vernacular Italian: “Composta per festeggiare il sovvenire di un grand Uomo” - To the memory of any great man. With regard to the spirit and symbolism of the Eroica, historians work overtime to present the work as a great example of classical form. But in truth, the symphony is a tone poem in four scenes. The saga begins with two forceful chords, striking a disarming tone. The great theme which immediately follows, chanted initially in the strings, is escorted through a mix of musical venues - alternately stoic or dreamy in character. Antiphonal woodwinds introduce a second theme which appears in myriad reflections throughout the movement. Listeners will notice patches of deft contrapuntal writing and the sound of hearkening bells - simulated in the brasses, echoed in the woodwinds. One can only wonder just ‘who’ was being called and ‘why.’ Just as Chopin’s Sonata in B-flat minor has been identified as the “Funeral March Sonata” (a reference to the style designation of its second movement), the Eroica too would have suffered a similar fate if Beethoven hadn’t preempted the logo-minded publishers of his time. Yet by any measure the ‘Marcia Funebre’ of the Eroica is a stunning evocation of the movement’s title, as raven-timbered rhythms paint the air with somber, plaintive hues. What follows is a Scherzo of snappy verve. Lilting strings sketch the pace, pointed at first with spry articulations from the oboe but soon taken up by the playful orchestra in full. Episodes for a choir of hunting horns dodge the frolicking tempo but add to the brighthearted fun. The Finale begins with a flurry of notes then charms the air with a miniature march (pizzicato strings and woodwinds). But something is surely up. After a few repeated big chords Beethoven engages in a bit of cryptic counterpoint - the Prometheus music in disguise. In a few moments the secret is out and the apotheosis begins. After many transformations in tempo and mood the happy fury is regained and the work soars to a full-blossomed close. Wunderbar..! Sweet sounds, oh, beautiful music, do not cease! Reject me not into the world again. With you alone is excellence and peace, Mankind made plausible, his purpose plain. Reject me not, sweet sounds! Oh, let me live. Music my rampart, and my only one. from: On Hearing a Symphony of Beethoven Edna St.