Stravinsky Firebird Suite – February 17, 2018 Cello Concerto in B minor, Op. 104 Antonín Dvořák 1841-1904 Antonín Dvořák’s sojourn in the United States from 1892 to 1895 came about through the efforts of Mrs. Jeanette B. Thurber. A dedicated and idealistic proponent of an American national musical style, she underwrote and administered the first American music conservatory, the National Conservatory of Music in New York. Because of Dvořák’s popularity throughout Europe, he was Thurber’s first choice as director. He, in turn, was probably lured to the big city so far from home by both a large salary and a passion for musical nationalism that paralleled Mrs. Thurber’s own. He was eager to learn more of the Native-American and African-American music, which he believed should be the basis of the American national style of composition. He also shared with Mrs. Thurber the conviction that the National Conservatory should admit African-American students. Dvořák’s period in New York was quite productive in spite of his administrative and teaching duties. He composed string quartets, a string quintet, the Ten Biblical Songs, Symphony No. 9 and lastly, most of the Cello Concerto. For a number of years, Dvořák’s friend, the cellist Hanus Wihan, had been asking for a cello concerto. But the ultimate impetus was a performance by Irish cellist, composer and conductor Victor Herbert of his Cello Concerto No. 2 at a New York Philharmonic concert. Dvořák thought the work splendid and a few months later sat down to write his own concerto. He finished it just before he left New York to return to his native Bohemia. Dvořák resisted Wihan’s suggestions for a bravura piece, preferring to focus on the emotions rather than technical acrobatics. Instead of pitting the soloist against the orchestra, he preferred a partnership. While writing the concerto he received news that his sister-in-law, Josefina Kaunitzová was critically ill. Dvořák had been in love with her and had wanted to marry her some 30 years earlier but had had to settle for her sister instead. As a tribute to Josefina, he included in the second movement of the concerto a reference to her favorite of his songs, “Leave me alone.” Shortly after his return to Prague, Josefina died. Dvořák changed the ending of the Concerto, adding the elegiac and exquisitely painful coda to the final movement, again briefly quoting the song in a duet between the cello and solo violin. The Concerto is a monument to Dvořák’s incredible gift for melody, not only in the basic thematic material but also in the “connective tissue” that holds together any great musical work of art. The winds, especially the flutes, play an important role in this Concerto, sometimes seeming to shut out the rest of the orchestra from their private conversation with the soloist. The clarinet opens the Concerto with one of the most emotionally evocative eight notes in the repertory, a theme that lends itself to a variety of harmonizations that Dvořák makes good use of in the course of the movement. While the Concerto is certainly not a bravura piece, the cello part in this movement is difficult both technically and emotionally. It requires a “private” and intense development of two themes, as well as rapid figurative accompaniments to the orchestra. There is no formal cadenza. The Adagio is another dialogue for cello and woodwinds. It begins gently, with a choir of woodwinds quoting from the song, immediately echoed by the cello, which is joined by the winds for the next strain of the theme. The cello continues with a poignant sighing motive that increases the emotional tension in preparation for the only appearance of the full orchestra in the entire movement in a sudden anguished cry. But the movement quickly returns to the quiet but intense conversation between cello and winds. A march opens the final movement, but soon the cello’s reflective personality takes over, periodically slowing the tempo. Throughout the Concerto, the cello frequently lapses into passionate reverie, and Dvořák “concludes” the Finale two thirds of the way through, replacing the customary cadenza with the moving coda in memory of Josefina, the muse of the entire Concerto. New work Co-commissioned with the Huntington Library Dale Trumbore b. 1987 A native of New Jersey, Dale Trumbore studied music and English at the University of Maryland and received a Master of Music degree from the University of Southern California. She specializes in collaborating with contemporary poets to create her vocal compositions. Suite from The Firebird Igor Stravinsky 1882-1971 “He is a man on the eve of fame,” said Sergey Diaghilev, impresario of the famed Ballets Russes in Paris, during the rehearsals for Igor Stravinsky’s The Firebird. In 1909 Stravinsky, viewed as a budding composer just emerging from the tutelage of Nikolay Rimsky-Korsakov, got what can be called his big break, thanks to the laziness of the composer Anatoly Lyadov. Early in the year Diaghilev had written Lyadov: “I am sending you a proposal. I need a ballet and a Russian one, since there is no such thing. There is Russian opera, Russian dance, Russian rhythm – but no Russian ballet. And that is precisely what I need to perform in May of the coming year in the Paris Grand Opera and in the huge Royal Drury Lane Theater in London…The libretto is ready…It was dreamed up by us all collectively. It is The Firebird – a ballet in one act and perhaps two scenes.” When Diaghilev heard that after three months Lyadov had only progressed so far as buying music manuscript paper, he withdrew the commission and offered it to Aleksander Glazunov and Nikolay Tcherepnin, who both turned him down. In desperation he turned to the unknown Stravinsky. Stravinsky finished the score in May 1910, in time for the premiere on June 25. It was an instant success and has remained Stravinsky's most frequently performed work. Its romantic tone, lush orchestral colors, imaginative use of instruments and exciting rhythms outdid even Stravinsky’s teacher, the Russian master of orchestration. It required an immense orchestra and the first suite Stravinsky extracted from the ballet in 1911 strained symphony orchestras’ resources. He made two subsequent revisions, with modified orchestration, the final one in 1945. The ballet, taking its plot from bits of numerous Russian folk tales, tells the story of the heroic Tsarevich Ivan who, while wandering in an enchanted forest, encounters the magic firebird as it picks golden fruit from a silver tree. He traps the bird but, as a token of goodwill, frees it. As a reward, the bird gives Ivan a flaming magic feather. At dawn the Tsarevich finds himself in a park near the castle of the evil magician Kashchey. Thirteen beautiful maidens, captives of Kashchey, come out of the castle to play in the garden but one of them in particular, the beautiful Tsarevna, captures Ivan’s heart. As the sun rises, the maidens have to return to their prison and the Tsarevna warns Ivan not to come near the castle lest he fall under the magician’s spell as well. In spite of the warning, the Tsarevich follows and opens the gate of the castle. With a huge crash Kashchey and his retinue of monsters erupts from the castle in a wild dance, whose drive and clashing harmonies foreshadow The Rite of Spring. With the help of the magic feather the Tsarevich calls the Firebird who overcomes Kashchey and tames the monsters by lulling them to sleep. In the end the captives are freed from the spell and Tsarevich Ivan and the Tsarevna are married in a grand ceremony culminating in an apotheosis of the Firebird. Program notes by: Joseph & Elizabeth Kahn [email protected] www.wordprosmusic.com .