CALIFORNIA STATE UNIVERSITY, NORTHRIDGE

A Study of Authenticity through the Interpretive Analysis of Four Solo Flute Pieces

A thesis submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements

For the degree of Master of Music in Music, Performance

By

Cale Henderson

DecemberMay 2020 2019

The Thesis of Cale Henderson is approved:

______

Dr. David Shostac Date

______

Dr. Arthur McCaffrey Date

______

Dr. Lawrence Stoffel, Chair Date

California State University, Northridge

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Dedication

This thesis is dedicated to my friends and family that have supported my interests throughout my musical career and made it possible for me to reach this goal. Without their support, I never would have made it this far.

I would also like to thank my professors at California State University, Northridge, for pushing me to be the best that I could be while doing everything in their power to make sure I would succeed.

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Table of Contents

Signature Page ii

Dedication iii

List of Figures vi

Abstract viii

Introduction 1

Chapter 1 : Sonata for Flute (Violin) and Harpsichord in G Minor 3

ANALYSIS 3

INTERPRETATION 7

WHO WROTE IT ? 9

Chapter 2 : Sonata "Undine" 12

ANALYSIS 13

INTERPRETATION 19

Chapter 3 : Sonatine 22

ANALYSIS 23

INTERPRETATION 28

Chapter 4 : Concerto for Flute and String Orchestra 30

ANALYSIS 32

INTERPRETATION 41

Conclusion 43

Bibliography 45

Appendix A: Form Map for Sonata for flute (Violin) and Harpsichord in G Minor 46

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Appendix B: Form Map for “Undine” 47

Appendix C: Form Map for Sonatine pour Flûte et Piano 49

Appendix D: Form Map for Concerto for Flute and String Orchestra 51

Appendix E: Sonata for Flute (Violin) and Harpsichord in G Minor 53

Appendix F: Recital Program 65

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List of Figures

Figure 1, Sonata for Flute (Violin) and Harpsichord in G Minor, mvt. 1, mm. 90-91...... 4

Figure 2, Sonata for Flute (Violin) and Harpsichord in G Minor, mvt. 1, mm. 119-121

Figure 3, Sonata for Flute (Violin) and Harpsichord in G Minor, mvt. 1, mm. 122-123

Figure 4, Sonata for Flute (Violin) and Harpsichord in G Minor, mvt. 2, mm. 39-40...... 5

Figure 5, Sonata for Flute (Violin) and Harpsichord in G Minor, mvt. 3, mm. 50-53

Figure 6, Sonata for Flute (Violin) and Harpsichord in G Minor, mvt. 1, mm. 25-27...... 6

Figure 7, Sonata for Flute (Violin) and Harpsichord in G Minor, mvt. 1, mm. 29-31...... 7

Figure 8, Sonata for Flute (Violin) and Harpsichord in G Minor, mvt. 3, mm. 39-43

Figure 9, Sonata “Undine,” mvt. 1, mm. 28-30...... 14

Figure 10, Sonata “Undine,” mvt. 1, mm. 204-206

Figure 11, Sonata “Undine,” mvt. 1, mm. 37-49...... 15

Figure 12, Sonata “Undine,” mvt. 1, mm. 218-229...... 16

Figure 13, Sonata “Undine,” mvt. 2, mm. 29-31...... 17

Figure 14, Sonata “Undine,” mvt. 2, mm. 86-89

Figure 15, Sonata “Undine,” mvt. 2, mm. 90-100...... 18

Figure 16, Sonata “Undine,” mvt. 4, mm. 159-162...... 19

Figure 17, Sonata “Undine,” mvt. 4, mm. 281-288

Figure 18, Sonatine, m. 110...... 25

Figure 19, Sonatine, m. 146

Figure 20, Sonatine, mm. 111-112

Figure 21, Sonatine, mm. 150-151...... 26

Figure 22, Sonatine, mm. 224-226...... 27

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Figure 23, Sonatine, m. 232

Figure 24, Concerto for Flute and String Orchestra, mvt 3, mm. 1-11...... 34

Figure 25, Concerto for Flute and String Orchestra mvt. 3, mm. 9-15

Figure 26, Concerto for Flute and String Orchestra, mvt. 3, mm. 22-30...... 35

Figure 27, Concerto for Flute and String Orchestra, mvt. 4, mm. 46-59...... 36

Figure 28, Concerto for Flute and String Orchestra, mvt. 4, mm. 293-311...... 37

Figure 29, Concerto for Flute and String Orchestra, mvt. 4, mm. 79-96...... 38

Figure 30, Concerto for Flute and String Orchestra, mvt. 4, mm. 330-342

Figure 31, Concerto for Flute and String Orchestra, mvt. 4, mm. 103-120...... 39

Figure 32, Concerto for Flute and String Orchestra, mvt. 4, mm. 349-367...... 40

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Abstract

A Study of Authenticity through the Interpretive Analysis of Four Solo Flute Pieces

By

Cale Henderson

Master of Music in Music, Performance

Musicians are educated in a way that makes it possible for them to produce an authentic performance by merely looking at the notes on the page. The musician calls upon years of technical practice as well as the study of different playing styles in order to interpret the meaning of those dots and lines on the page in front of them. This could involve studying the style that the piece was performed in when it was first written as well as what the composer intended, or it could involve interpreting the piece in a new and modern way with different instruments and techniques than were standard for the time. For my own performance, I chose the former style of authenticity and used my own musical intuition as well as historical context to perform in a way that is closest to the composer’s original intent. Through careful study of the music itself as well as the study of historical perspectives and practices, it is possible for a performer to produce an authentic performance that the composers themselves would have approved of, to the best of the musicological field’s knowledge. In this thesis I examine the various practices utilized in performing the works on my master’s recital and explain which practices I chose to implement in my own performance and why. This thesis is in conjunction with a flute performance master’s recital given on March 16, 2018.

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Introduction

For my Master’s of Music recital I performed four flute pieces: Sonata for Flute (Violin) and Harpsichord in G Minor by Johann Sebastian Bach, “Undine” by Carl Reinecke, Sonatine pour Flûte et Piano by Pierre Sancan, and Concerto for Flute and String Orchestra by Gordon Jacob. I played on a modern instrument and did my best to replicate the tone and vibrato preferred during the time each piece was written because I prefer to hear the differences in style between time periods. For the Bach piece, although I played on a modern instrument I attempted to emulate the Baroque flute sound using the materials I had at hand. My accompanist played on a modern piano and emulated the soft tone and lack of dynamic contrast that a harpsichord would have. For the Reinecke piece, I made sure to use the instruments to their full capacity and showcase the unbridled range of emotions that are characteristic of the Romantic era. For Sancan, I carefully studied the composer’s intent and applied his values to the piece, playing with focus on working well with the piano to create a homogenous sound. For Jacob, I made sure to focus on the purpose of each phrase and above all else play beautifully. This contrast between pieces of different time periods shows the evolution of music, and I believe this type of “authentic” performance is important to preserve it. The term “authentic” has multiple definitions. It can mean “of undisputed origin” or “genuine.” It can mean “made or done in a way that faithfully resembles the original.” It can mean “reliable” or “accurate.” All of these words themselves can furthermore be interpreted in different ways in regards to the performance of music. In this thesis, I have narrowed the definition of “authentic” to two different interpretations in regards to music. These two interpretations lead to two different “styles of authenticity” as I refer to it it. One interpretation of the term is the style of Composer Intent, where the performer strives to reproduce a performance as accurate to the original as possible—often involving period instruments and style. The second interpretation of the term is the style dependent upon the performer’s personal choice, whether they choose to use modern instruments or period instruments, or modern style. This style depends on the performer to make musical choices independent of the composer’s original intent.

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The first style argues that the piece should be played as it was originally performed, with instruments that are from the period. However, it may sound odd on non- period instruments, supposing the performer does not have access to such an instrument. Then the performer must consider how to change the performance to sound as “authentic” as possible. A Baroque flute has a very thin, woody tone whereas modern flutes are made of brass and have a full and vibrant tone. It is difficult to make a modern flute sound Baroque, but the performer can choose to attempt this if they wish. This style of authenticity is considered more traditional these days, the way students are taught in school. The second argument is that pieces have always been meant to be played in the present time, with present traditions, without any constraints that the past may have put on them. Referring to musicalogical opinions on Renaissance-era mensural proportions, Richard Taruskin states that “preferences and practices were multi-farious, varying not only over time and place but also personalities.”1 He explains that it is difficult to find definitive answers about Renaissance performances because performers in the Renaissance period were so individualistic and did not focus on uniformity. This suggests that if mensural proportions in the Renaissance period could have been subject to individual interpretation, then other facets of not only Renaissance music but other historical music as well could be considered “authentic” if merely the performer’s instincts determined how it should sound. This argument for what would be considered a most “authentic” performance would depend on the performer’s skill and experience; in order to have good instincts on how to perform, a performer must study all the different ways a piece is and has been performed and only then can the performer form an educated opinion. Neither style of authenticity is more accurate than the other, but I chose the former style for my own performance of four different pieces from different times.

1 Richard Taruskin, "The Limits of Authenticity: A Discussion," Early Music vol. 12 no. 1 (1984): 11. 2

Chapter 1

The first piece on my recital was Sonata for Flute (Violin) and Harpsichord in G

Minor by Johann Sebastian Bach (1685–1750). This is a standard Baroque sonata, with a fast first movement in Simple Binary form, a slow second movement in the form of

Theme and Variations, and another fast Simple Binary for a third movement. However the unique fact about this piece is that its true composer and intended solo instrument is disputed among musicians. Some argue that Bach himself wrote it for flute, and another argument is that it is a piece written by his son Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach (1714–1788) for solo violin. My personal argument—for reasons stated later in this chapter—is that it was written by Johann Sebastian Bach, and that it could have been written for violin but it was probably written for flute.

ANALYSIS

My analysis of the Bach piece mostly followed phrases and used historical technique. I analyzed how the piano part fit with the flute part to determine which dynamics and articulations to conduct. I noticed three common occurrences throughout the piece, and I used this analysis to create a more interesting and accurate portrayal of the piece. These three occurrences are Repetition, Interval Switch, and Imitation.

In some parts where material is repeated, I made sure to create contrast by using dynamics. Figure 1 shows a line that is played, and then repeated in the next measure. I chose to drop down to a piano dynamic suddenly to create an interesting contrast instead of playing the whole line at one volume.

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Figure 1, Sonata for Flute (Violin) and Harpsichord in G Minor, mvt. 1, mm. 90- 91.

This occurs again at the end of movement 1, as seen in Figures 2 and 3. I chose to drop down to piano again and then gradually crescendo into the final few bars of the movement to create a strong sense of arrival.

Figure 2, Sonata for Flute (Violin) and Harpsichord in G Minor, mvt. 1, mm. 119-121.

Figure 3, Sonata for Flute (Violin) and Harpsichord in G Minor, mvt. 1, mm. 122-123.

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This last example of a repeated line also illustrates the next convention I used to create a more interesting performance. Baroque music often utilizes a switch in intervals between two instruments or musical lines to create counterpoint. Figures 4 shows the piano and flute switching the interval that the line starts on. In m. 39 the piano starts on

B턬 and the flute starts on D, and then both instruments play the same lines but switched in m. 40. Figure 4 shows two halves of the same melody being played against each other to create counterpoint.

Figure 4, Sonata for Flute (Violin) and Harpsichord in G Minor, mvt. 2, mm. 39- 40.

Another example of this is in the third movement, as shown in Figure 5. This figure is near the end of the A section of the movement, and I wanted the sixteenth-notes to be as clear as possible to showcase the teamwork between the two instruments.

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Figure 5, Sonata for Flute (Violin) and Harpsichord in G Minor, mvt. 3, mm. 50- 53.

Imitation is the final convention described in this section. In these cases, one of the two instruments plays a phrase and then the other plays the exact phrase later. This is illustrated in Figures 6 and 7, where the flute plays a phrase and the piano plays the same thing two measures later.

Figure 6, Sonata for Flute (Violin) and Harpsichord in G Minor, mvt. 1, mm. 25- 27.

Figure 7, Sonata for Flute (Violin) and Harpsichord in G Minor, mvt. 1, mm. 29- 31.

Another example of imitation is mm. 39-43, where the piano plays the phrase first, and the flute plays it immediately after. In this example, I made sure that the flute line entered seamlessly so that the line could seem like an echo of the piano’s line.

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Figure 8, Sonata for Flute (Violin) and Harpsichord in G Minor, mvt. 3, mm. 39- 43.

Every time these conventions occurred in the music I made sure that the piano was heard just as well as the flute. The flute is the solo instrument, but both the flute and the piano have solo and accompaniment parts and are therefore equally important to the music.

INTERPRETATION

Regarding my style of authenticity that depends on knowing the composer’s original intent, or how the piece was originally performed—the further one goes back in time the more difficult it is to find that original intent. Much of the work of J.S. Bach has been lost and the surviving works do not have specific performance directions written for them, thus making the interpretation of them difficult. My interpretation of authentic— meaning “performing in a way that is closest to what we have interpreted to be the composer’s original intent”—would entail considering other works Bach wrote, the time period and where he was at the time, and documents that detail how performers were expected to play during the time. This is the style that has been researched extensively and the style that is taught in universities and conservatories.

Compositions written before the invention of sound recording devices could be used to capture their performances by contemporary instrumentalists add another

7 difficulty to the interpretation. Musicologists and performers can only infer that Baroque flutes had a thin, woody tone with little capability for dynamic contrast, because that is how the period instrument sounds when a modern performer plays it using techniques passed down orally and through writing. However, musicologists make educated guesses based on the descriptions they find, such as in Johann Joachim Quantz’s Essay of a

Method for Playing the Transverse Flute. The essay is a comprehensive method including instructions on tone, articulation, fingerings, breathing, and performing in different styles. Quantz himself describes how the general sound of the transverse flute should be:

In general the most pleasing tone quality (sonus) on the flute is that which more nearly resembles a contralto than a soprano, or which imitates the chest tones of the human voice. You must strive as much as possible to acquire the tone quality of those flute players who know how to produce a clear, penetrating, thick, round, masculine, and withal pleasing sound from the instrument.2

Though there is no recording of it from contemporary performers and no written direction from Bach himself, this kind of direction given by a composer from the same era as Bach helps immensely in the interpretation of Bach’s works. The aspirations of flutists today in regards to tone are effectively the same as Quantz instructs; the goal is to produce the clearest and thickest tone (save for when modern pieces give different instructions). Quantz—a composer from the eighteenth century—could not have predicted the innovations that would be made to flutes in the coming century and thus modern instruments have a stronger and more vibrant tone than Bach would have expected. If Baroque composers could hear the instruments of today they would possibly

2 Johann Joachim Quantz, On Playing the Flute. (Boston: Northeastern University Press, 2001) p. 50. 8 approve of the vibrant, projecting sound over the thin and woody tone of Baroque flutes.

Nevertheless, I prefer the period sound, and I tried my best to replicate it with the modern instrument I own. In my performance I played with the Baroque articulation and embellishment, but with a softer and rounder modern tone and vibrato toned down. I did not try to make my metal flute sound wooden, but I also did not use the stronger and harder tone that my metal instrument is capable of because a period flute did not have the same capabilities at the time.

WHO WROTE IT?

It is impossible to know when the G Minor Sonata was written because there is no date written on it, however the earliest surviving manuscript is from “the second half of the 18th century.”3 Sávio Cunto de Araújo states in his thesis on Bach’s flute sonatas, that

“There are three different manuscripts for the G Minor Sonata (BWV 1020), and they are not consistent in naming their composer.”4 In the same way that it is impossible to know

Bach’s true intentions with his compositions without adequate documentation, musicologists can only make educated inferences as to who really composed the piece, based on what little evidence there is left behind and an analysis of similar flute works.

Wendy Ann Mehne explains the vague directions left behind by Bach and says, “Most composers in this era generally wrote down what was, to them, the essence of the music and left the details to the performer. This comparatively relaxed attitude towards notation

3 Robert L. Marshall, "J. S. Bach's Compositions for Solo Flute: A Reconsideration of their Authenticity and Chronology," Journal of the American Musicological Society 32, no. 3 (1979): 463-98. 4 Sávio Cunto de Araújo, "J. S. Bach and The Flute Sonatas: An Overview of the Authenticity and Chronology, and an Analysis of the E Minor Sonata, BWV 1034," M.A. Thesis. (Queens College of the City University of New York, 1990) p. 5. 9 has already been illustrated in relation to articulation, but obviously extended into many other areas of eighteenth-century music, including ornamentation.”5

Araújo states in the beginning of his thesis that two other “disputed” works of J.S.

Bach have surviving manuscripts that clearly attribute J.S. Bach as the composer, but that this is not the case with the G Minor Sonata.6 He continues on and states that “The title of the first source, copied in the second half of the eighteenth century, reads "Sonata del

Signore Bach", while the second source, attributes the work to "Signore C. P. E. Bach".

The third source, from around 1840, ascribes the piece to "G. Seb. Bach". In any case, the

Breitkopf Catalogue of Music in Manuscript of 1763 lists the work as "Sonata del Sigr.

C. P. E. Bach.”7

In regards to the disputed instrumentation of the G Minor Sonata, Araújo argues that “It is assumed that the was written for violin and not for flute, based on the fact that no instrument other than the violin is mentioned in any of the surviving sources.”8 He explains his study of Robert L. Marshall’s article (as cited earlier) and says, “In

Marshall's opinion, Johann Sebastian had assigned C. Phillip to arrange it for flute and continuo or harpsichord”9 This would suggest that the original manuscript was written by

J.S. Bach for a different instrumentation, and that the surviving manuscripts are actually arrangements by his son.

5 Wendy Ann Mehne, "A Research/Performance Edition of Johann Sebastian Bach's Acknowledged Flute Sonatas," PhD Diss. (The University of Wisconsin, Madison, 1992) p. 60. 6 Araújo, p. 4-5. 7 Ibid., p. 5. 8 Ibid., p. 5. 9 Ibid., p. 5. 10

My final argument is that this sonata sounds more like Johann Sebastian Bach than his son C.P.E. Bach. C.P.E. Bach’s sonatas sound like he took his father’s simple binary form and added the stylistic innovations of the early Classical era. His works sound like Baroque-style music with a leaning towards Classical, such as in his harmonic structure and his written-out embellishments. This sonata has no markers of a Classical piece whatsoever, and though C.P.E. Bach could have composed it earlier in his life I believe it is more likely that Johann Sebastian Bach wrote it towards the end of his life. It is less likely that C.P.E. Bach wrote this one sonata that sounds more Baroque than any of his other sonatas.

I chose this piece both because of the ambiguity regarding its true composer and because it is my favorite Bach sonata.10 Whether it was composed by J.S. Bach or his son, or whether or not his son found an unfinished manuscript and then completed it himself and put his own name on it takes nothing away from the composition. With the loss of so much of J.S. Bach’s work, it is a miracle that this piece was brought back into the light.

10 Sonata in G Minor has a charm that sets it apart from the majority of his other flute sonatas. It has clear, simple melodies in all three movements that align with my own ideal of focusing on beauty above all else. In Chapter 4 I explain Gordon Jacob’s ideals when it comes to music composition, and they match this as well. This sonata fits the program just perfectly in that respect. 11

Chapter 2

The second recital on my program was the Sonata “Undine” by Carl Reinecke

(1824–1910). This is a sonata from the Romantic period. During a time when programmatic music was popular and it was common to use evocative titles instead of mere names like “Sonata in E Minor”, Reinecke composed this piece that was not meant to tell the story for which it was named. Barbara Eichner writes that “Reinecke himself readily admitted that he preferred music without extra-musical associations, even if this made him highly unpopular with the avantgarde press.”11 She goes on to explain that when he saw Symphonie fantastique and Roméo et Juliette conducted by Berlioz himself in 1851, he regretted that he did not like them as much as works by Beethoven or

Schumann.”12 Eichner references a quote by Reinecke himself, which states:

A musician can very well express the feeling that overcomes him when watching the starry sky, but he cannot depict the starry sky itself; he can express Judas Iscariot’s despair and tormented conscience in music, but he cannot draw Judas Himself.13

All of these examples illustrate Reinecke’s desire to invoke emotion but avoid an explicit picture.

Finally, Eichner explains Reinecke’s use of programmatic titles while simultaneously warning the listeners not to call it ‘programme music’.14 Reinecke sought to evoke the emotions that someone might feel while experiencing the story but did not seek to tell the story itself. Myrna Lane Weeks Brown’s argument finishes this off nicely by stating, “Since he specified no program other than the subtitle, any relating of the

11 Barbara Eichner, History in Mighty Sounds: Musical Constructions of German National Identity, 1848-1914 (Woodbridge, UK: Boydell Press, 2012) p. 237. 12 Ibid., p. 237. 13 Ibid., p. 237. 14 Ibid., p. 238-239. 12 music to specific events in the story is necessarily a subjective interpretation.”15 An interpretation of Reinecke’s “Undine” can be related to the story, but it would be against the composer’s wishes.

ANALYSIS

“Undine” has four standard movements (Allegro, Vivace, Andante, and Allegro

Molto), but the form of each movement has its own departures from common Romantic compositional expectations. For example, the Allegro has a Coda that is soft and dolce, the Vivace has an entire section where the solo flute does not play, there are sudden tempo changes in the Andante movement, and the final movement has unclear sections and a nonstandard ending.

The Recapitulation of the first movement is standard in that instead of modulating to the III(GM) key area in the Transition at m.206 it modulates to #iii (g#m) so that a tonic version of the SKA can be tonicized at m. 223 and resolve at m. 227—however the nonstandard choice Reinecke made was to keep the SKA in the Recapitulation in major.

The more Classical choice would be for the Exposition to modulate from i (em) to III

(GM), and the Recapitulation to start in i and then stay in i, taking the SKA melody from the Exposition and making it minor. However Reinecke has chosen for the SKA melody to stay in major. Figures 9 and 10 examine the Transition from both the Exposition and

15 Myrna Lane Weeks Brown, "Programmaticism in Carl Reinecke's Sonata, Opus 167, "Undine": A Lecture Recital, Together with Three Recitals of Selected Works of A. Vivaldi, J. S. Bach, G. P. Telemann, K. D. Von Dittersdorf, C. Nielsen, F. Martin, J. Rivier, S. Prokofieff, O. Messiaen, M. Castelnuovo-Tedesco, N. Castiglioni, and E. Bozza," D.M.A. Diss. (University of North Texas, 1981) p. 32. 13

Recapitulation, and Figures 11 and 12 examine the tonicization of the SKA in the

Exposition and the Recapitulation, respectively.

Figure 9, Sonata “Undine,” mvt. 1, mm. 28-30 (Exposition).

Figure 10, Sonata “Undine,” mvt. 1, mm. 204-206 (Recapitulation).

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Figure 11, Sonata “Undine,” mvt. 1, mm. 37-49 (Exposition).

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Figure 12, Sonata “Undine,” mvt. 1, mm. 218-229 (Recapitulation).

The object of such similarities that are also unconventional is to sound the same, but different. I strove to create the same feel during the SKA in I as the SKA in III but also flow seamlessly into the Coda.

Movement 2 is an ABACA rondo (for more detail refer to appendix B) that is similar to the first movement in that it is mostly standard except for one unusual choice.

Then the A section plays again at m. 58 but without a repeated ‘a’ section, and with a different cadence in mm. 87-88; an augmented sixth chord is added before the dominant, which ends in a Half Cadence that resolves in m. 89 instead of a Perfect Authentic

Cadence.

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Figure 13, Sonata “Undine,” mvt. 2, mm. 29-31 (First A theme).

Figure 14 Sonata “Undine,” mvt. 2, mm. 86-89 (Second A Theme).

The C Section is mm. 89-123 and is characterized by the parallel major key area and a sweet theme labeled dolce e misterioso. This is an important theme to remember because it is repeated later in the sonata, in Movement 4. Figure 15 shows the first half of the theme from mm. 90-97.

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Figure 15, Sonata “Undine,” mvt. 2, mm. 90-100.

The third movement is a Ternary with an A section that is slow and sweet, and a

B section that is fast and abrasive (for more detail see appendix). The B section is mm.

36-53, a fast paced Molto vivace in the key of Bm (iii). The phrase in m. 53 ends on a vii톬/V of the next section, tonicizing I (GM) again.

The fourth movement has a wide range of emotions to convey and it is important to anticipate them so that they are properly executed on time. The Retransition of the

Development section is mm. 136-160 and ends with the motif that the PKA begins with, leading nicely into the Recapitulation, as shown in Figure 16. Both the flute and the piano need to be ready for the sudden restatement of the PKA, with the same feel as the first measure of the movement.

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Figure 16, Sonata “Undine,” mvt. 4, mm. 159-162. The exact material used to begin the movement is used in m. 161 to begin the Recapitulation.

Finally at m. 281, the piano has slowed to the Più lento tempo, and the melody from the C section of the second movement (shown in Figure 15) is brought back in the piano and then the flute.

Figure 17, Sonata “Undine,” mvt. 4, mm. 281-288.

This section is not typical of a sonata, and there is no standard label for this decision. This closing section acts as a restatement of the A theme would in a binary form and ties all four of the movements together by restating something that was heard earlier.

INTERPRETATION

As stated before, any association with actual events in the 1811 story of Undine by Friedrich de la Motte Fouqué are entirely subjective. The performer can choose to associate certain parts of the sonata with parts of the story, but I chose not to. I chose to

19 associate the music with emotions disconnected from the story, using instead the markings on the page and the expression that the Romantic period is known for. Neither decision affects how authentic the performance is; such a decision only affects the tone and expression the performance will have.

Robert Hill explains Reinecke’s tendency towards altering tempo and expression even of Classical pieces—such as in Reinecke’s piano roll recording of Mozart’s

Larghetto from the Piano Concerto in D Major—and comments that “He tends to lengthen strong metric units and to shorten weak ones at the beginnings of phrases, reversing the proportions when slowing down at the ends of phrases.”16 Reinecke was not averse to changing performance practice to fit the era, which is a practice that models the opposite definition of “authenticity” to my own. Again, neither is a better style than the other. This simply shows that Reinecke held expression and emotion very highly—even to the extent to possibly ignoring specific traditions set by the original composer—and I chose to reflect this preference of his in my interpretation of his music.

Each movement can be associated with a part of the Undine story, but again I chose not to directly associate it with any particular event and simply focused on the emotion meant to be conveyed. The first movement is smooth and longing, and with each restatement or inversion of the main motif from mm. 1-4, I made sure it fit the tone of the phrase. Where there were fast notes, I chose a harder tone to match the tension building up and followed through with the momentum all the way to the cadence.

16 Robert Hill, “Carl Reinecke’s Performance of Mozert’s Larghetto and the Nineteenth- Century Practice of Quantitative Accentuation,” in About Bach, eds. Butler, Gregory S., Stauffer, George, and Greer, Mary Dalton (Baltimore: University of Illinois Press, 2008) 176. 20

Movement 2 is light and impish. It almost sounds like the flute and piano are arguing with each other for the whole movement. I made sure to give the piano the same amount of power to lead throughout the movement so there was a feel of give-and-take.

The C section of this movement is very important, and I made sure to make it as memorable as possible through the use of tone quality and dynamic contrast.

Movement 3 is marked Andante tranquilo, and so I made sure to keep a peaceful feel throughout the movement where it was necessary. The main motif trades off between the flute and the piano, so I backed off when I knew I was merely an answer to the melody and not the main idea of the phrase. When the Molto vivace section begins, it suggests conflict in this peaceful time, so I made sure to take advantage of that. The whole movement is loving and peaceful until the sudden dramatic threat at the B section, which then subsides into the peaceful melody again.

Finally the Finale suggests that something has gone wrong in this peaceful world.

The urgent and vengeful main motif of large interval jumps permeates the movement and presses forward through to the end, with small sections in major that mimic pleading. I performed these pleading passages in answer to the vengeful passages, as if the person experiencing these emotions is begging to return to that peaceful time from the third movement. Finally after the Coda, the Più lento section brings back the loving theme from the C section of Movement 2. I used a lighter tone than I had in Movement 2 and tried not to go higher than piano in dynamic even in swells. I wanted to give the feeling of whispering goodbye to the listener.

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Chapter 3

The third piece on my program was composed by Pierre Sancan (1916–2008) in the year 1946. Sonatine can be described as impressionist, despite the later publication date of the piece. The ambiguous tonality and tendency to evoke emotions, combined with a final movement that employs twentieth-century techniques suggests that the piece is impressionist with an influence by the contemporary French Modernist movement.

Sancan was a piano professor at Paris Conservatoire from 1956–8517 as well as a composer and experienced orchestrator, as exemplified by his many different works.

Richard A. Kaplan states that Sancan’s Sonatine is influenced by the music of Poulenc and that “it is more technically challenging than Poulenc’s sonata, if not as engaging.”18

Ivan March says “Pierre Sancan's Sonatine again demands great virtuosity from flute and piano alike but has real charm; it also has a haunting slow movement that shows flautist and pianist at their most touchingly sensitive.”19 In circles where Sancan’s name is known, his work has been praised alongside the more famous of French composers like

Poulenc.

Charles Timbrell interviewed Sancan himself for his book, French Pianism: A

Historical Perspective and conveys Sancan’s belief that “The piano must be viewed as a small orchestra, with potential of strings, winds, brass, and percussion.”20 This illustrates

Sancan’s desire for the piano to always show great variety depending on if it is portraying

17 Charles Timbrell, French Pianism: A Historical Perspective (Portland, Or.: Amadeus Press, 1999) p. 276. 18 Richard A. Kaplan, "Collections: Instrumental - Arnold: Clarinet Sonatina; Martinu: Clarinet Sonatina; Bacri: Sonatina Lirica; Sancan: Clarinet Sonatine; Chevreuille: Clarinet Sonatine; Poot: Clarinet Sonatine; Horovitz: Clarinet Sonatina," Fanfare - the Magazine for Serious Record Collectors 33, no. 05 (2010): 485. 19 Ivan March, "'Portrait'," Gramophone 92, no. 1113 (2014): 71. 20 Timbrell, French Pianism: A Historical Perspective, p. 202. 22 an orchestration of a piece written for other instruments, or merely playing a sonata that was written for piano. In Timbrell’s interview, Sancan further elaborates upon his personal style of playing, and teaching students how to play. Sancan rails against rhythmic displacement, arguing that it is unnecessary to learn something with a different rhythm when that is not how it will be performed; and he explains how he teaches pianists to use their arms and shoulders to move the music, instead of using the popular

“fingerplaying” French method of the time.21

This all illustrates Sancan’s personal style that emphasizes orchestration and accurate practice, with zero regard for the avant-garde conventions that were also popular at the time. Because of his disregard for popular conventions and styles, his name is hardly known outside of France—much like the fate of Gordon Jacob in the last chapter of this thesis.

ANALYSIS

The form of this piece can be argued various different ways because of the obscure nature of the key areas and the continuous nature of each movement, but I have settled on the idea that the whole piece is one movement, in Compound Sectional Ternary form. Sonatine can be analyzed as a three-movement piece, but because of the lack of pause between movements and the implementation of a cadenza after the second movement, I have analyzed it all as one movement that mimics the first movement of a concerto. The piece is divided into parts, but those parts correspond to the Exposition,

Transition Development, Cadenza, and Recapitulation.

21 Ibid., p. 100-201. 23

Figure 17, Sonatine overall form.

I will refer to the three compound sections as “movements” even with my analysis that the Sonatine is a single-movement piece, in order to differentiate them from the smaller sections in each individual “movement”. The Development of the first movement is mm. 33-68, and it completely skips over any sort of transition that normally sits between the Secondary Key Area and the Development section. Such abrupt changes mean a change in the emotion conveyed, and I made sure to reflect this abrupt change in my performance. Because of the small scale of the “movement”, the Recapitulation is only one statement of the PKA long. The Coda begins in m. 92, but because of the ambiguous nature of the PKA it could be argued to also fit within it.

There is an unmeasured piano Transition between mm. 110-112. Movement 2 is a very small-scale Andante movement, in ternary form marked Andante espressivo. I mark the beginning at m. 113, though it could be argued that mm. 110-112 are a sort of introduction before that bar. The sections are differentiated by texture rather than key area because of the ambiguous tonality in this movement, therefore in my performance I made sure to take advantage of any texture changes to mark a transition in the form.

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During this transition, the piano introduces a motif that is used later in the flute’s cadenza, as seen in Figures 18 and 19.

Figure 18, Sonatine, m. 110, Piano transition motif.

Figure 19, Sonatine, m. 146, Flute cadenza motif.

When the flute comes in after the piano’s solo transition (Figure 20), it should bridge the gap between the transition and the start of the next movement. The flute’s entrance should introduce the feel of the next section.

Figure 20, Sonatine, mm. 111-112.

Further supporting the concerto form is the sudden emergence of a CADENCE ad libitum, which makes it look like it just ended the development section of the first

25 movement of a concerto. Instead of using material from earlier in the piece such as in the first movement of a concerto, the cadenza beginning in m. 145 uses material that will show up later in the final movement of this piece. The motifs are introduced in the cadenza, so I made sure they were not only clear—so as to be recognized later— but also the same tone and articulation later. The cadenza begins in m. 145 with the entrance of the flute, and technically ends in m. 155, Animé, and begins the last movement. However, this overlaps with the Introduction to the last movement, which begins where it says

Prenez progressivement le Tempo de l’Animé. This overlap is illustrated in Figure 21, below.

Figure 21, Sonatine, mm. 150-151.

One could analyze it so that the cadenza ends just before the introduction of the last movement, but I argue that the cadenza is still part of the introduction. It is important

26 that this introduction is all one continuous line; the intro should still sound like it is part of the cadenza so as to make the beginning of the next movement a surprise.

The last movement finally begins at m. 155 after the Tempo Animé marking. It is a very compressed sonata form with clear key areas. This suggests that the performance should be fast and impressive, with little chance for the audience to think about the form.

The recapitulation of this section also acts as a Coda; after the first four bars of the section it switches back to development material as is typical of a Coda. Curiously enough, the flute part takes the main motif from the first movement while the piano plays what should be the Recapitulation material (Figure 22) until the flute takes over four bars later.

Figure 22, Sonatine, mm. 224-226.

This further mimics the concerto form along with the earlier cadenza. Then in m.

232 (as seen in Figure 23) there is the exact line from the Introduction (as seen in Figure

21), only faster this time.

27

Figure 23, Sonatine, m. 232.

This reinforces the small-scale sonata form that the third movement takes. It is important for all of these parts to be clear and expressed in order for the simultaneous forms to be recognizable, so I made sure the high and quiet notes of the piano in mm.

224-227 were heard.

INTERPRETATION

Sonatine for Flute and Piano is mostly smooth with parts that stand out for drama and effect. The idea behind this impressionist piece is for the listener to hear the greater picture instead of recognizing a particular theme or melody. Everything needs to be smooth and blend together, and effects should be fully taken advantage of.

This sonata for flute and piano treats both instruments as equally-important solo instruments working together, and thus blends the flute and piano sound into a single line with a beautiful give and take between them. If one instrument starts one phrase, often it is the other instrument that finishes the line. An authentic performance—by my definition that follows the wishes of Sancan himself—should be so smooth that it is difficult to follow, but clear enough that the audience notices the themes and motifs not the first time, but when they are heard a second time.

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I made sure to keep a lighter tone, except for heavier dramatic parts. Even the fast movement must sound smooth and easy, and not at all frantic or tense. It is important to have smooth transitions between each “movement” to keep the continuous feeling going without any interruptions. The piece needs to sound like it is all one movement, even if it is analyzed to have three individual movements.

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Chapter 4

Gordon Jacob (1895–1984) was the composer of the final piece on my recital. He was born in time to serve the British forces in World War I, during which he was captured by the Germans for a time and lost his older brother, Anstey. This war caused a reaction against anything German. Eric Wetherell explains in his biography of Gordon

Jacob that “German music was, however, forbidden and this had the effect of throwing the emphasis on the latest French and Russian compositions, a bias which continued after the war was over.”22 Jacob was influenced by this when he was released from duty after the war and began studying at the Royal Academy of Music.

Jacob’s composition teacher, Charles Villiers Stanford, was of the conservative school of music, and held the belief that those who favored the avant-garde style were victim to “the self-willed desire to follow the latest fashion.”23 Jacob was more interested in pleasing his professor than his colleagues Gustav Holst and Ralph Vaughan Williams, even if he disagreed with his professor on a few things. Jacob said in an interview with

Robert Samuel Pusey, “I realized he could help me a great deal, and I did the sort of things for him [to] which he could have something useful to say… [but] I kept some of my more advanced works away from him.”24 Jacob’s style remained more conservative than his classmates and other contemporaries for this reason.

It is infinitely easier to understand Jacob’s original intent with his pieces than it is to try to interpret what J.S. Bach wanted, because there are extensive records of his

22 Eric Wetherell, Gordon Jacob: A Centenary Biography (London: Thames Pub., 1995) p. 24. 23 Ibid., p. 25. 24 Robert Samuel Pusey, "Gordon Jacob: A Study of the Solo Works for Oboe and English Horn and Their Ensemble Literature," D.M.A. Diss. (Peabody Institute of the Johns Hopkins University, 1980) p. 40. 30

musical preferences. Not only did he write multiple books about musical composition and

performance, but there are word-for-word interviews transcribing his direct words, and

even a video documentary about him filmed in 1959.25 He states in his book, A Composer and His Art:

The function of music is still to be beautiful, and though our idea of what is beautiful and right may vary from generation to generation the feeling for it remains the same and should be honestly and truly trusted… As regards that, really great works (and how rare they are), survive whether they were fashionable at the time of their writing or not.26

This is an important fundamental of his musical beliefs, that truly great music should sound beautiful to everyone, no matter how much time passes. He further states that “It can safely be said that the only music which remains in the repertoire because of its undying attraction for musical listeners does so, first and foremost, through its melodic appeal.”27

Jacob was a great advocate for composing music for amateurs, and for composing music for amateurs that was still as beautiful and engaging as more difficult works written for professional musicians. He states that “It is so difficult to write music that is easy to play and at the same time has character and compelling interest that few composers have even attempted to solve the problem. There must be no question of condescension or ‘writing down’.”28 He believed that music should not be written for the sake of being easier for amateurs to play; he stressed that easier music can be written for its own sake.

25 Monitor. “Gordon Jacob,” Directed by Ken Russell (BBC, March 29, 1959). 26 Gordon Jacob, A Composer and His Art (London: Oxford University Press, 1955) p. 3. 27 Ibid., p. 9. 28 Ibid., p. 32. 31

Jacob speaks of the movement away from humility in composers, and how this

lack of humility results in young composers disregarding anything that had been done

before in favor of completely new ideas.”29 This is Jacob’s response to serialism and other avant-garde styles that seemed to reject the old simply because it was old. This aversion to the avant-garde style cemented his similar fate to Pierre Sancan, where Jacob is little-known outside of Britain.

ANALYSIS

Jacob’s tendency to look backwards when composing is exemplified by his use of

Classical forms. His Concerto for Flute and String Orchestra is, much like Reinecke’s

“Undine,” relatively straightforward in terms of form except for a few deviations from

common Classical or Romantic expectations. The Recapitulation of the first movement at

H (m. 86) is different than the Exposition in that it has only the PKA and skips directly to

the Coda at rehearsal J (m. 104). This abrupt change suggests that a different feel is

needed than the Transition in the Exposition, and the use of a segue at the end of the

movement suggests that the feel should be continuous. The end of the Coda (m. 118) is

labelled Segue II; even though the first and second movement are clearly separated, there

is no break in the music moving into the second movement. The Coda meanders around

introducing material that is used in the second movement and eventually lands on the V

chord of the tonic key, allowing the flute to begin the second movement with two pickup

notes. These pickup notes should cement the continuous transition and make it difficult

for the audience to realize a new movement has started.

29 Ibid., p. 28. 32

The second movement is a ternary ABA form. The A section (mm. 1-21) is relatively simple and recognizable, whereas the B section (mm. 22-38) and the Coda (m.

49) are free in their key areas. Using this knowledge one can interpret that the A section should be clear and structured, while the B section and the Coda should be more ethereal.

Towards the end of the B section (m.30) the harmony rests on the V chord, which the flute uses in its quasi cadenza ad lib. to lead back into a similar A section at rehearsal B

(m. 39). This quasi cadenza should sound like the A section so as to lead into seamlessly just like the beginning of the movement. The movement ends on the tonic with a clear break between the this and the next movement. I used this clear break as an excuse to exaggerate the diminuendo at the end of the movement and fade to nothing.

The third movement is a Theme and Variations and has three recognizable themes; The first one (T1) begins in m.1 and continues until m. 10. At m. 11, the next theme (T2) is recognizable and continues through m. 14. The third theme (T3) begins at rehearsal B (m. 26) and varies its material through m. 62. All of these can be seen in

Figures 24, 25, and 26, respectively.

33

Figure 24, Concerto for Flute and String Orchestra, mvt 3, mm. 1-11, Theme 1.

Figure 25, Concerto for Flute and String Orchestra mvt. 3, mm. 9-15, Theme 2.

34

Figure 26, Concerto for Flute and String Orchestra, mvt. 3, mm. 22-30.

This whole movement should blend together, but the themes should stand out when they come up. The key areas in this movement are fluid, and when a key area is tonicized it is quickly moved away from, such as the first tonicization in m. 5. It starts off in GM, then quickly modulates away. The theme should stand out and then quickly go back to blending.

Movement 4 is a straightforward ABACA sonata-rondo, so the first interpretation

I made was to every section clear so that they could be recognized the next time they came around. It is hard to tell where the Development starts if not analyzed harmonically, but the texture changes at rehearsal J (m. 181) make this apparent. This texture change from hard and pointed in the Exposition and soft and lyrical in the Development should be clear so as to give a sense of moving somewhere within the piece, instead of remaining in a hard and fast feel that the tempo and difficulty of the movement encourages. The Recapitulation follows the Exposition closely, except for the last

35 statement of the A theme. The A theme at rehearsal X (m. 367) is a short Coda that overlaps with the end of the Recapitulation; it is still part of the Recapitulation, but it does not end the same as the Exposition does. Jacob wanted the Recapitulation to be as close to the Exposition as possible, and with these similarities it almost sounds like a

Simple Ternary form if not for the small differences and clear sonata form. At m. 301 the

Recapitulation begins to differ from the Exposition and takes an extra two measures to modulate the second A theme to a minor third higher, as shown in Figures 27 and 28.

Figure 27, Concerto for Flute and String Orchestra, mvt. 4, mm. 46-59 (Exposition).

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Figure 28, Concerto for Flute and String Orchestra, mvt. 4, mm. 293-311 (Recapitulation).

At rehearsal V, the piano modulates a half step higher, making the C section a major third higher than in the Exposition, as shown in Figures 29 and 30.

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Figure 29, Concerto for Flute and String Orchestra, mvt. 4, mm. 79-96

(Exposition)

38

Figure 30, Concerto for Flute and String Orchestra, mvt. 4, mm. 330-342 (Recapitulation).

Finally, at rehearsal W (m. 354) the piano uses the measures before rehearsal X

(m. 367) to modulate another half step higher to make the last A theme a Perfect 4th higher than in the Exposition, as seen below in Figures 31 and 32.

Figure 31, Concerto for Flute and String Orchestra, mvt. 4, mm. 103-120 (Exposition).

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Figure 32, Concerto for Flute and String Orchestra, mvt. 4, mm. 349-367 (Recapitulation).

This short Coda that overlaps with the last statement of the A theme takes material from the C theme and places it in the section’s key area, ending the piece strongly and brilliantly and in the same key that it began with in the first movement. The slow modulating upwards by half steps encourages the feeling of urgency and excitement that rises all the way until the final phrase and the almost explosive ending. This difficult but impressive ending is the main reason I chose to place this piece at the end of the program (as opposed to the Sonatine, which was written later and would fit better at the end of my chronological program), to leave the audience feeling excited and with elevated emotions.

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INTERPRETATION

Though this piece was written close to the time that serialism and atonality were starting to gain popularity in Britain, Jacob strove to stay true to his more traditional musical preferences. This is a twentieth-century concerto that fits firmly within the standard form and harmonic norms that were established in the Classical period. The twentieth-century techniques that Jacob employs in this concerto are few and far between and are used only when necessary for dramatic effect. Everything that Jacob writes has a specific musical purpose. The style of authenticity that follows the composer’s original intent is not hard to achieve in this case, because 1) Gordon Jacob made his intent known explicitly and through many different means, and 2) his main intent can be summed up in his desire for his musical to be beautiful, no matter the era it is played in. Every musical decision in every part of the piece must above all else be beautiful and meaningful as well as be of high quality.

My performance of this piece involved determining what tone each section was supposed to portray and fitting every musical element within that tone. The beginning of the first movement is mysterious and cantabile, so I made sure to keep this section soft and songlike, even through the passage with fast triplets and arpeggios. The next section at B is marked Agitato, which is a clear contrast to the previous section. I played with a much harder tone and attack, with a very fast trill in the third measure after B. The rest of the movement is the same until the Retransition at G, but I made sure to have a varying degree of accents and dynamic contrast throughout the Exposition and Development, so it didn’t all sound like one single Agitato line.

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This is the basic approach I took with the rest of the piece. Each section has a very clear tone that it is supposed to portray, and some of them—like the long Agitato section of the first movement—involve making subtle changes to ensure that every musical line means something. Fast notes must have the same feel at the slower notes on either side of them (when the music switches between sixteenth-note triplet runs and slower rhythms in the first movement, the switch should be fluid and under complete control). Difficulty of technique should not change the feel of the section at all. The twentieth-century embellishments (such as quick octave leaps, grace notes, abrupt dynamic changes, and long chromatic lines) must be flashy and accented, because those short embellishments display the most deviation from traditional methods that Jacob ever employs in his work.

Everything is very dignified and British, with nothing unnecessary, and these flashy moments are as out of control as Jacob gets. The performer should take full advantage of such moments.

I chose this piece because of its obscurity. All but a few of whom I told of my program were unaware of Gordon Jacob’s existence in general, let alone the fact that he wrote a concerto for flute and string orchestra. I was impressed with the music personally, and I knew the audience would likely never have heard it before. My goal was to end the recital with a very technical, expressive piece with difficult yet beautiful melodic passages that no one in the audience had heard before, and this concerto was sure to be successful in that.

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Conclusion

Without a musician’s interpretation, the music is just marks on a page. An uninformed performer can play the notes, rhythms, dynamic contrast and articulations perfectly, as well as the correct tone if it is written on the page, but without knowledge of the composition’s origin and typical performance practice—both past and present—the performance will sound bland and unimaginative. Musicians study how to interpret sheet music so they can make the same marks on a page sound completely different depending on the style they choose.

It is dependent upon the performer to take this knowledge into account in their performance, or to disregard it. Each decision must be informed and for a reason, designed to reach a specific musical outcome. With composers like Bach and Reinecke who lived in times when the only recording technology available was writing something on a piece of paper, it is more difficult to determine what the composer truly wanted to piece to sound like. Perhaps they wanted the same sound in every performance. Perhaps they had no preference, and if every performance was different then they still considered it accurate. It is impossible to know for sure without a recording that can be directly replicated. It is much easier with composers like Sancan and Jacob, who lived during a time with sound recording, as well as when direct interviews with composers was considered more important than before. Bach had little interest in what others thought of his work, whereas Jacob felt a need to share his views with the world and could do so through book publishing, sound recordings, and interviews.

Throughout this project I strove to perform the music of composers who shared my same values, an important one being that a composer or performer should create

43 music for themselves, and not for any external motivation such as tradition or popularity.

Bach wrote specifically to serve his God. Reinecke told his own story through music and strove to preserve the autonomy of music instead of subjecting it to another extramusical source. Sancan wrote in an Impressionist style when more serialist styles were popular in

France, and he was unshakable in his preferences. Jacob considered melody to be the most paramount element of music, the most important factor in composing a piece—even if the result of this was his name being lost to oblivion. As a performer, it is my duty to interpret the work of composers and decide how to pass on their legacy through performance, and to do so in the most educated way possible. I have provided an authentic interpretation of these works by staying true to the composer’s original intent to the best of my abilities, but another musician might offer a different interpretation that takes the same music and performs in a way that suits them personally, disregarding the need for historical accuracy. Both of these styles are authentic, and both can be enjoyed thanks to the ever-changing tastes of audiences.

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Bibliography

Bach, Johann Sebastian. Sonata for Flute (Violin) and Harpsichord in G Minor. Wiesbaden, Germany: Breitkopf & Härtel, 2003. Brown, Myrna Lane Weeks. "Programmaticism in Carl Reinecke's Sonata, Opus 167, "Undine": A Lecture Recital, Together with Three Recitals of Selected Works of A. Vivaldi, J. S. Bach, G. P. Telemann, K. D. Von Dittersdorf, C. Nielsen, F. Martin, J. Rivier, S. Prokofieff, O. Messiaen, M. Castelnuovo-Tedesco, N. Castiglioni, and E. Bozza." D.M.A. Diss., University of North Texas. 1981. De Araújo, Sávio Cunto. "J. S. Bach and The Flute Sonatas: An Overview of the Authenticity and Chronology, and an Analysis of the E Minor Sonata, BWV 1034." M.A. Thesis, Queens College of the City University of New York. 1990. Eichner, Barbara. History in Mighty Sounds: Musical Constructions of German National Identity, 1848-1914. Woodbridge, UK: Boydell Press, 2012. Hill, Robert. “Carl Reinecke’s Performance of Mozert’s Larghetto and the Nineteenth- Century Practice of Quantitative Accentuation.” About Bach. eds. Butler, Gregory S., Stauffer, George, and Greer, Mary Dalton. Baltimore: University of Illinois Press, 2008. Jacob, Gordon. Concerto for Flute and String Orchestra. Boston, Massachusetts: Galaxy Music Corporation, 1952. Jacob, Gordon. The Composer and His Art. London: Oxford University Press, 1955. Jacob, Gordon. The Elements of Orchestration. New York: October House Inc., 1962. Kaplan, Richard A. "Collections: Instrumental - Arnold: Clarinet Sonatina; Martinu: Clarinet Sonatina; Bacri: Sonatina Lirica; Sancan: Clarinet Sonatine; Chevreuille: Clarinet Sonatine; Poot: Clarinet Sonatine; Horovitz: Clarinet Sonatina." Fanfare - the Magazine for Serious Record Collectors vol. 33 no. 5 (2010): 485. March, Ivan. "'Portrait'." Gramophone vol. 92, no. 1113 (2014): 71. Marshall, Robert L. "J. S. Bach's Compositions for Solo Flute: A Reconsideration of their Authenticity and Chronology." Journal of the American Musicological Society 32, no. 3 (1979): 463-98. Mehne, Wendy Ann. "A research/performance Edition of Johann Sebastian Bach's Acknowledged Flute Sonatas." PhD Diss., The University of Wisconsin, Madison. 1992. Sancan, Pierre. Sonatine pour Flûte et Piano. Paris, France: Durand, 1946. Pusey, Robert Samuel. "Gordon Jacob: A Study of the Solo Works for Oboe and English Horn and Their Ensemble Literature." D.M.A. Diss., Peabody Institute of the Johns Hopkins University. 1980. Reinecke, Carl. Sonata “Undine”. New York: International Music Company, 2014. Taruskin, Richard. "The Limits of Authenticity: A Discussion." Early Music vol. 12 no. 1 (1984): 3-12. Timbrell, Charles. French Pianism: A Historical Perspective. Portland, OR.: Amadeus Press, 1999.

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Appendix A: Form Map for Sonata for Flute (Violin) and Harpsichord in G Minor J.S. Bach(?), Sonata for Flute (Violin) and Harspichord in G Minor, Allegro

Form: Simple Binary

Section A B

Bar number(s) 1 22 23 24 49 | 50 63 68 89 90 | 93 98 99 104 107 108 114 116 118 119 125 126 턂 Local Harmony i iv V I i V I V V I V I V I V i

Key area i(gm) III(B턬M) i(gm) iv(cm) i(gm)

J.S. Bach(?), Sonata for Flute (Violin) and Harspichord in G Minor, Adagio

Form: Theme and Variations 46 Section Theme | var. 1 | var. 2 | | var. 3 | | Theme

Bar number(s) 1 4 5 9 10 13 14 16 19 20 23 25 29 32 33 34 42 43 44 46 턂 Local Harmony I IV V I iii I V I V I IV I

Key area I(E턬M) IV(A턬M) I(E턬M)

J.S. Bach(?), Sonata for Flute (Violin) and Harspichord in G Minor, Allegro Form: Simple Binary

Section A B Bar number(s) 턆1 55 턇 턆 56 122 턇

Key area i(gm) i(gm) III(B턬M) i(gm)

Appendix B: Form Map for Undine Carl Reinecke, “Undine”, Allegro Form: Sonata

Section Exposition Development Recapitulation Coda

Sub-section(s) PKA T SKA Closing Retransition PKA T SKA Closing

Bar number(s) 턆1 27 43 48 70 76 78 턇 79 81 148 194 | 195 206 211 218 223 227 245 251 265턂 Local Harmony i V/V V i V V i V i i

Key area I(em) III(GM) v(bm) i(em) #iii(g#m) I i i

SKA of Recap is in parallel major of SKA from Expo; this Other comments still fits because the melody 47 follows this harmony and it is unnoticeable

Carl Reinecke, “Undine”, Allegro vivace

Form: Rondo

Section A B A’ C A’

Sub-section(s) Aa b a a b a’ a b a’

Bar number(s) 턆1 14 턇 15 23 24 32 | 33 57 | 58 88 | 89 123 | 124 135 턂

Key area i(bm) VI(GM) i(bm) I(BM) i(bm)

Carl Reinecke, “Undine”, Andante tranquillo

Form: Ternary

Section A B A

Sub-section(s) a a b a’ a’ codetta

Bar number(s) 1 8 9 16 | 17 27 | 28 35 | 36 53 | 54 56 63 64 67 턂 Local Harmony vii톬/V V I

Key area I(GM) iii(bm) I(GM)

Carl Reinecke, “Undine”, Allegro molto

Form: Sonata 48

Section Exposition Development Coda

Sub-section(s) PKA T SKA Closing Retransition PKA T SKA Closing Piú Lento

Bar number(s) 1 47 58 70 93 | 94 132 135 136 160 | 161 188 195 196 205 229 281 317턂 Local Harmony V I V I i V I

Key area I(em) III(GM) (BM) v(bm) i(em) I(EM)

I instead of III Theme from Other comments C Section of Mvt. 2 ties it all together

Appendix C: Form Map for Sonatine pour Flûte et Piano Pierre Sancan, Sonatine for Flute and Piano, Moderato

Form: Sonata

Section 1 20 25 32 | 33 68 69 84 | 85 91 92 109 || 110 112

Sub-section(s) Exposition Development Recapitulation Transition

Bar number(s) PKA T SKA Retransition PKA Coda

Local Harmony V i

Key area i(bm) iv(em) i(bm)

Transition between Other comments

mvt. 1 and mvt. 2 49

Pierre Sancan, Sonatine, Andante

Form: Ternary

Section A B A Transition Cadenza

Sub-section(s) (Piano solo) (intro. To mvt. 3)

Bar number(s) 113 126 | 127 132 | 134 141 || 142 | 145 148 154 ||

Texture area Soft, blending Louder, expressive Soft, blending mixture of the two, hard and soft articulation

The sections are differentiated by texture rather than The cadenza overlaps with the introduction Other comments Key because of the ambiguous tonality in this mvt. To mvt. 3

50

Pierre Sancan, Sonatine, Animé

Form: Sonata

Section Exposition Development Recapitulation/Coda

Sub-section(s) PKA Retransition

Bar number(s) 155 169 170 | 172 212 213 223 | 224 237 턂 Local Harmony V i V i

Key area i(bm) iv(em) i(bm)

Piano plays PKA while flute plays the PKA Other comments from the first mvt. Appendix D: Form Map for Concerto for Flute and String Orchestra Gordon Jacob, Concerto for Flute and String Orchestra, Moderato con moto

Form: Sonata

Section Exposition Development Recapitulation Coda

Sub-section(s) PKA T SKA Closing PKA 1 11 21 30 42 53 | 66 74 | 86 104 118 Bar number(s) A B C D E F G H J Segue II Local Harmony i V I V

Key area i(bm) ii(c#m) iv(em) i(bm)

Music 51 Other comments is continuous

Gordon Jacob, Concerto for Flute and String Orchestra, Allegretto

Form: Sonata

Section A B A Coda 1 22 30 39 49 56 63 65 Bar number(s) 턂 A B C D Key area i(bm) III(DM) i(bm) 턬iv(e턬m) i(bm)

Gordon Jacob, Concerto for Flute and String Orchestra, Poco adagio ed espressivo

Form: Sonata

Section T1 T2 T1’ T2 T1 T3 T1 T3 T1’ T2 T2’ T3 T1 T3 1 3 11 13 15 17 23 26 34 39 44 55 59 61 63 66 78 81 86 88 90 92 93 97 99 Bar number(s) 101턂 A B C D E F H J Local Harmony

Key area GM EM em gm EM A턬M em fm gm GM fm bm GM

Other comments Seems atonal but some parts tonicize a key

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Gordon Jacob, Concerto for Flute and String Orchestra, Finale

Form: Sonata Rondo

Section Exposition Development Recapitulation

Sub-section(s) a b a c a Retransition a b a c a

Bar number(s) 1 29 39 42 55 59 65 115 | 181 220 226 246 | 251 275 284 288 305 309 321 333 347 342 367 377턂 B C D E H J Q S U V X

Key area i(f#m) gm i(f#m) iv(bm) i(f#m) i(f#m) gm iii(am) vi(dm) iv(bm)

gm>A턬M>am [ ][ ] instead of gm>f#m piano modulates up ½ step in Other comments mm. 333-342 and mm. 342-367

Appendix E: Sonata for Flute (Violin) and Harpsichord in G Minor

Appendix F: Recital Program

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