Wolfgang Amadè Mozart Symphony No. 29 in A major, K. 201 Wolfgang Amadè Mozart (he never used “Amadeus” except when making a joke) was born in Salzburg, Austria in 1756 and died in Vienna in 1791. He composed this symphony in 1774 and it was first performed in Salzburg shortly thereafter. The score calls for 2 oboes, 2 horns, and strings. ***** Mozart composed this symphony after he and his father returned to Salzburg from a ten-week stay in Vienna. Leopold was still looking for an appropriate post for his teenage son, but Mozart the younger was more interested in hearing the latest from Haydn, the only composer he would ever acknowledge as greater than he. No post was forthcoming—nor would it be—but Mozart voraciously consumed all the Haydn he could, especially the late quartets. These were a major influence on Mozart’s rapidly-maturing symphonic style, and you can hear it throughout the A-major Symphony. There is more imitative writing, an increase in counterpoint, and a new level of balance and formal coherence—things that were Haydn’s stock in trade. It is astonishing to realize that at age 18 Mozart was already better than most other composers would ever get. The A-major Symphony may lack the depth and breadth of Mozart’s finest late works, but it seems miraculous that its technical mastery and expressiveness could have come from the pen of a teenager. The first movement’s main tune, an octave drop followed by an ascending sequence of 8th-notes, is one of the most memorable Mozart ever wrote. He must have thought so, too, for he brings it back again and again. The second movement is an exquisite miniature—one imagines that if a single note were changed its sheer perfection might evaporate. The Menuetto has both gentility and strength, plus a rhythmic horn-and-oboe motto that returns to punctuate the ending. The Finale is full of Mozartean exuberance, and the humor of a furious ascending scale that leads to an unexpected pause. Extraordinary. ***** Joaquín Rodrigo Concierto de Aranjuez for Guitar and Orchestra Joaquín Rodrigo was born in Sagunto in Valencia, Spain in 1901 and died in Madrid in 1999. He composed this work in 1939 and it was first performed the following year in Barcelona by Regino Sainz de la Maza, guitar, with the Orquesta Filarmónica de Barcelona under the direction of César Mendoza Lassalle. The score calls for solo guitar, 2 flutes, piccolo, 2 oboes, English horn, 2 clarinets, 2 bassoons, 2 horns, 2 trumpets, and strings. ***** Joaquín Rodrigo is often called the last of the great Spanish romantic composers. Nevertheless, his music often casts a fond eye back to the Spanish art music that reached its pinnacle in the Renaissance and Baroque. Where more recent Spanish music had carried a heavy Italian influence, Rodrigo seemed eager to acknowledge the gifts of Spain’s more distant past. The Palacio Real de Aranjuez in Spain is a summer palace built by King Phillip II in the 16th century and later rebuilt by King Ferdinand VI in the 18th century. Rodrigo was inspired to compose his Concierto de Aranjuez in part by the estate’s beautiful gardens, but also to allow himself to re-imagine the great Spanish music the royal court enjoyed there. The work was one of the first virtuoso guitar concertos of the modern era; it was an instant hit and immediately entered the repertoire to stay. The first movement begins intimately, with guitar alone, strumming out a theme that alternates 2-beat and 3-beat bars—something that manages to sound both off-kilter and suave at the same time. As the movement advances, it consistently trades pyrotechnics for subtlety, with enormously satisfying effect. The Adagio evokes the saeta, a song associated with the annual religious procession through Seville, with the English horn giving its impression of the women singing from their balconies. The last movement Allegro gentile is, as its title suggests, a gentle yet sprightly dance featuring the most virtuosic passages for the guitar. Throughout, Rodrigo provides a delightful glimpse of the past as seen by a 20th century composer who both cherishes and honors it. ***** Antonio Vivaldi Concerto for 2 Guitars in G major, RV 532 Antonio Vivaldi was born in Venice in 1678 and died in Vienna in 1741. He originally composed this work for two mandolins. The composition and first performance dates of this work are unknown. The Concerto is scored for 2 solo guitars, strings and continuo. ***** History might have neglected Vivaldi entirely had there not been great interest in tracing the influences of J.S. Bach. Vivaldi’s influence on the German master was found to have been considerable, particularly in Bach’s treatment of the concerto form. Bach copied by hand many of Vivaldi’s concertos, simultaneously arranging them for harpsichord or organ (as well as touching up the counterpoint a bit). No doubt Bach perceived the essential “rightness” of their form: Vivaldi, after Torelli and others, had developed the concerto to the point where his way of doing things became the de facto Baroque standard. Vivaldi wrote several hundred concertos, 220 alone for the violin. This vast catalog has proved almost impossible to put into chronological order with any degree of certainty because so few of them were published. It seems likely, however, that Vivaldi wrote the present work while he was the music master at the Ospedale della Pietà, an orphanage for girls in Venice where most of his concerti were composed and performed. Vivaldi wrote the Concerto for Two Guitars in the form he himself established: three movements, fast- slow-fast, with the outer movements in ritornello form. (A ritornello is a theme played in the orchestra that returns periodically to punctuate contrasting sections played by the soloists.) These outer movements are light and energetic. Vivaldi preserves the gentle voices of the guitars by thinning the texture of the orchestra or accompanying the soloists with continuo alone. The real gem of the concerto is the minor-key slow movement. Vivaldi reduces the music to three parts: the two soloists and the violins and violas playing pizzicato in unison. The soloists exchange melodic passages, coming together only at points of emphasis. The second part of the binary form is dramatic, harmonically adventurous, and memorable. ***** Manuel de Falla El Amor Brujo (Love, the Magician) Manuel de Falla was born in Cádiz, Spain in 1876 and died in Alta Gracia, Córdoba, Argentina in 1946. He composed his ballet El Amor Brujo in 1914-15 and it was first performed in Madrid in 1915 under the direction of Moreno Ballesteros. Falla substantially revised the score and created both a ballet and an orchestral suite that was first performed in 1916 by the Madrid Philharmonic Orchestra under the direction of Bartolomé Pérez-Casas. The score calls for solo mezzo-soprano, 2 flutes, piccolo, oboe, optional English horn, 2 clarinets, bassoon, 2 horns, 2 trumpets, timpani, piano, and strings. ***** Manuel de Falla was born in Cádiz, Spain, and studied composition and piano in Madrid. During the years 1907-1914 he lived in Paris, where he met and befriended Debussy and Ravel; his music has some of their influence, balanced by his extensive knowledge and love of Spanish folk art. After the Spanish Civil War Falla moved to Argentina, where he composed very little. His last years were spent working on a huge cantata about Columbus called L’Atlántida that he never completed. Today he is best remembered for his works for the stage, including the puppet opera Master Peter’s Puppet Show and the ballets The Three Cornered Hat and El Amor Brujo. Falla first composed El Amor Brujo as a stage work with singing, dancing, narration and dialog, using a pit orchestra of just fifteen players. He later created a concert suite from the music using an expanded orchestra; he also created a ballet version with the same orchestral forces, compressing the two acts into one while eliminating all of the spoken word and much of the singing. Both of these versions retain a part for mezzo-soprano. The story of the ballet revolves around Candelas, a young girl whose dead lover has returned to haunt her as a ghost. The ghost, a jealous man in life, seeks to prevent her from taking a new lover. Candelas attempts to break his spell with the Ritual Fire Dance, but to no avail. Eventually she sets a friend out as a decoy for the ghost; when the ghost is thus distracted, Candelas is able to kiss her new lover and break the spell with the magic of love. El Amor Brujo is a perfect introduction to Falla’s music: whether it sounds extroverted or serene, dance- like or nocturnal, Falla celebrates his Spanish heritage with a Parisian’s sense of refinement. People of Spanish descent have paid Falla’s music their highest compliment, calling it the real music of Spain, as opposed to the flashy imitation that so often passes for it. —Mark Rohr Questions or comments? [email protected] .