PROGRAM NOTES
BY LAURIE SHULMAN, ©2008
FIRST NORTH AMERICAN SERIAL RIGHTS ONLY
Ruy Blas Overture, Op. 95
Felix Mendelssohn
Born February 3, 1809 in Hamburg, Germany
Died November 4, 1847 in Leipzig, Germany
Victor Hugo’s verse play Ruy Blas premiered in Paris in 1838. Set in 17th-century Spain, it is a send-up of the Spanish nobility. The plot is a thinly disguised metaphor for a corrupt Bourbon monarch and aristocracy, playing on France’s tumultuous recent history. Both the 1789 and the 1830 revolutions had galvanized the French, and Hugo was perhaps the most politically minded French author of his day. The play caused a stir because of its famous and controversial author. Translations to foreign languages followed rapidly. Within a year Ruy Blas had traveled to Germany, where Mendelssohn was asked to compose an overture.
The composer was no great enthusiast of Hugo’s writing. In a letter to his mother from Leipzig on March 18, 1839, he reported:
You wished to know how the overture to Ruy Blas went off. Famously. Six or eight weeks ago ... I was requested to compose an overture for it and the music for the romance (song) in the play, for it was thought the receipts would be better if my name appeared in the advertisements. I read the play, which is detestable, and more utterly beneath contempt than you could believe, and said that I had no leisure to write the overture, but I composed the romance for them. [Six days before the performance], the people came to thank me politely for the romance, and said it was such a pity I had not also written an overture.
Mendelssohn relented and whipped off the overture in a matter of days. His antipathy to the subject did not prevent him from composing a superb movement. Ruy Blas is vintage Mendelssohn: replete with contrasts, brilliant dialogue between winds and strings and plenty of dramatic moments suggesting the hot-blooded characters in a Spanish-inspired drama.
A brief introduction intoned by the brasses (which would be pompous if the introduction lasted longer than four bars) precedes an animated, mysterious string theme. These two ideas alternate in dialogue until the strings prevail, unleashing a powerful and persuasive sonata-allegro. The brass figure recurs at key moments to herald a new theme or other major signpost in the musical drama. As always, Mendelssohn speaks with coherence, conviction and an incomparable ear for orchestral detail. A coda in the parallel major brings the overture to a satisfying close.
The score calls for woodwinds in pairs, four horns, two trumpets, three trombones, timpani and strings.
Timing: Approximately 7 minutes.
Concerto in E-minor for Violin and Orchestra, Op. 64
Felix Mendelssohn
‘The heart’s jewel’: a beloved concerto
The beauty of an old favorite like Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto is that familiarity breeds delight rather than the proverbial contempt. Instead of wearing threadbare, great works of music continue to prove their quality with repeated hearings. Mendelssohn composed with a clear understanding of the violin’s capabilities, and violinists love the work because it lies so well in the instrument.
Collaboration with a splendid concertmaster
He had in mind the technical and musical prowess of his dedicatee, Ferdinand David (1810–73). They had been friends since the late 1820s, often playing chamber music together; Mendelssohn had promised David a concerto for nearly a decade. From 1836, David was concertmaster in Mendelssohn’s Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra and one of Leipzig’s most prominent musical figures. In 1845, Mendelssohn finally delivered on his promise. David was an active collaborator, assisting both with the cadenza and in extensive revisions.
Formal innovations
The work is remarkable for its formal structure. We tend to think of Mendelssohn as the most classic of the romantics, one who favored clarity, transparency of orchestration and a Mozartian devotion to traditional form. Surprisingly, this concerto was a trendsetter for the balance of the 19th century. Foregoing the customary orchestral exposition, Mendelssohn plunges his soloist directly into the fray in the opening measures. Another break from tradition is the unusual—and unprecedented—placement of the cadenza at the end of the development section, instead of just before the end of the first movement.
A single bassoon note connects the first movement to the Andante, defusing the agitation and drama of the opening. Emotionally, this rapid transition demands a great deal from both soloist and orchestra. As a unifying device, it is the essence of simplicity, and it works. No less satisfying are the latter two movements, seamlessly bound by a glorious transitional passage that eases us into the joyous finale. This effervescent close merges sonata form with a scherzo character. So superbly integrated are his irresistible themes that we barely notice how fine his counterpoint is. This movement easily prompts both smiles and foot-tapping, for it is one of Mendelssohn’s greatest strokes of genius.
The score calls for woodwinds, horns and trumpets in pairs, timpani, solo violin and strings.
Timing: Approximately 26 minutes.
Symphony No. 1 in C-minor, Op. 68
Johannes Brahms
Born May 7, 1833 in Hamburg, Germany
Died April 3, 1897 in Vienna, Austria
Beethoven’s Tenth?
The moniker “Beethoven’s Tenth” was attached to Brahms’s First Symphony by Hans von Bülow (1830–94), the eminent conductor, pianist and composer. He was acknowledging Brahms’s fulfillment of a prophecy articulated nearly a quarter century before, when Robert Schumann hailed then-20-year-old Johannes Brahms as the great Beethoven’s successor.
The specter of Beethoven lay heavily on Brahms’s shoulders. He was a brutal critic of his own compositions, and he destroyed a large number of early works that did not satisfy him. Nowhere was his self-criticism more merciless than in the realm of orchestral music, because he was keenly aware that his first symphony would be compared to Beethoven. “You do not know what it is like hearing his footsteps constantly behind one,” Brahms wrote.
Thus everything orchestral that Brahms composed up until the First Symphony was a form of preparation. Four large symphonic works helped him hone his orchestral skills: the Piano Concerto No. 1, Op. 15 (1854–58), the two Serenades, Op. 11 (1857–58) and Op. 16 (1858–59, revised 1875) and the Variations on a Theme by Haydn, Op. 81 (1873). The orchestral fabric of his major choral works, including the German Requiem, further strengthened Brahms’s command of symphonic resources.
All along, he had the goal of a symphony in mind. As early as 1854, probably with Schumann’s encouragement, Brahms was at work on symphonic sketches. Two decades elapsed before that music found its way into any permanent form. Clara Schumann and Albert Dietrich both saw a draft of the first movement in 1862. Five years later, Brahms wrote a letter to Clara including the famous horn theme that became the transition to the hymn of the finale. Not until 1873, however, did he concentrate on the completion of his First Symphony. He waited until the age of 43 to contribute to the symphonic canon.
Twenty years of preparation for a momentous premiere
Brahms’s Symphony No. 1 was completed at Lichtenthal during the autumn of 1876, and it premiered at Karlsruhe in November. Brahms chose the smaller town because it was a less politically stressful musical community than Vienna or Leipzig. He wrote to Otto Dessoff, conductor of the Karlsruhe orchestra:
It was always my cherished and secret wish to hear the thing first in a small town which possessed a good friend, a good conductor and a good orchestra.
Shortly after Dessoff’s first rendition, Brahms led repeat performances in Mannheim and Munich. The First Symphony’s success broke through Brahms’s orchestral writer’s block. For the next 11 years, his orchestral harvest was bountiful: three additional symphonies, three more concerti and two overtures.
Von Bülow had good reason to hail the symphony as “Beethoven’s Tenth.” Because of its heroic stance and C-minor tonality, the work is most often compared with Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony. Both pieces have a general progression from tragic struggle to triumph and victory. Brahms’s First bears equal comparison to Beethoven’s Ninth, primarily because of the parallel in hymn-like finales.
About the music
Slow introductions are rare in Brahms’s music, but this very large symphony features one for each of the outer movements. This double occurrence in one composition is unique among his works. Both introductions signal something portentous, with entirely different effects: ushering in heroic conflict in the opening movement and introducing serene exaltation in the conclusion. By contrast, the inner movements are both shorter and lighter in emotional weight. In the slow movement, Brahms indulges in some orchestral decoration, embroidering his already rich music with a rare, breathtakingly lovely violin solo. Here and in the graceful Un poco Allegretto we have a welcome emotional breather between the mighty pillars of the outer movements.
If there were any shortage of melodies early on, Brahms compensates with abundance in the expansive finale. From the magical horn call to the majestic closing chords, unforgettable melodies vie with one another, providing this noble movement with some of his most beloved original themes.
The score calls for woodwinds in pairs, contrabassoon, horns in C and E-flat, trumpets, trombones, timpani and strings.
Timing: Approximately 45 minutes. |
