Saturday, November 11, 7:30 p.m. |
Hudson |
Sunday, November 12, 3:30 p.m. |
Westborough |
|
Rodion Shchedrin (b 1932)
Symphonic Fanfares (1967)
Shchedrin's music is very popular
in his Russian homeland, especially a couple of ballets that are quite often performed by the Bolshoi. Unlike earlier
Soviets such as Shostakovich, Shchedrin's rather traditional music always found favor with the authorities. This
may be partly attributable to timing: born in Moscow in 1932, he was just launching his career when Stalin's death
lifted the most repressive artistic controls. He was made a "People's Artist" in 1981. He has made several
visits to the United States and his music is becoming a little better known here. The Symphonic Fanfares comes
in two arrangements, for orchestra and for band. With its robust percussion and brass parts (including a brass
chorale somewhat reminiscent of the last movement of the Tchaikovsky), the piece makes a suitably rousing curtain-raiser
for both our Moscow Nights concert and indeed our whole season.
Serge Prokofiev (1891-1953)
Concerto for Violin and Orchestra No. 2 in G minor, op. 63 (1935)
Allegro moderato; Andante assai; Allegro, ben marcato
Originally
from the Ukraine, and having attended the St. Petersburg Conservatory, Prokofiev spent much of his life in exile
before settling in Moscow in 1936. This gesture of solidarity with the Soviet people did not particularly endear
him to the authorities, however, and he suffered criticism and constraints along with his fellows. Today, however,
Prokofiev would be universally ranked as one of the truly gifted composers, not only for his mastery of the orchestra
but for his great sense of melody.
Eighteen years and 43 compositions separate Prokofiev's two violin concertos [SPM performed his Concerto #1 with
Marylou Speaker Churchill in last year's opener] and in many ways the two works are quite different. In the first,
from his Parisian iconoclastic period, he deliberately repressed his lyrical instincts until the third movement,
when the melody can no longer be contained. In this the second concerto, the musical craftsmanship is equally brilliant,
but the outpouring of melody begins with the soloist in the very first measure!
Like the Tchaikovsky symphony, this concerto was not heard first in Moscow, as it was completed just before Prokofiev's
return there. In fact, the premiere was held in Madrid on December 1st, 1935, as the storm clouds were gathering
for the Spanish Civil War.
The first movement alternates between two wonderful melodies, the first mysterious, but with a strong sense of
motion, and repeated in many transpositions, both legato and staccato, all around the orchestra; the second of
such loveliness that only the solo instrument itself and the oboe can render it with sufficient sensitivity. The
first subject is a rather unusual type of pentatonic scale, taken from the phrygian mode (EFACD) and with the leading
note sharpened when ascending, as in a minor key, and starting with the notes ACEFD#E.
The second movement, starting with pizzicato strings in a slow 12/8, is outstandingly beautiful in its apparent
simplicity, as the violin soars heavenwards over the rest. The final waltz-like movement with its castanets has
a very appropriate Spanish flavor, albeit a little worse for too much manzanilla not only in the main theme,
but also in later sections where an extra half-beat has slipped into each measure! It is a wonderfully tongue-in-cheek
way to end this lovely work.
Peter Tchaikovsky
(1840-1893)
Symphony No. 5 in E minor, op. 64 (1888)
Andante - allegro con anima; Andante cantabile; Valse: allegro moderato; Finale: Andante maestoso - allegro
vivace - moderato assai.
After the success of the fourth,
Tchaikovsky took a five-year break from writing symphonies, concentrating on smaller-scale works, such as the Capriccio
Italien [to be performed by SPM in April '01]. In 1882 Balakirev, leader of "the mighty five" group
of nationalist composers, had suggested a programmatic symphony on the semi-mythical figure of Manfred. After initial
reservations followed later by much hard work, Tchaikovsky completed that symphony three years later and he was
not immediately in the mood for more symphonic work. Still, in May 1888, at the age of 48, he began his summer's
project: the fifth symphony. In a letter to his brother Modeste he writes: "To speak frankly, I feel as yet
no impulse for creative work. What does this mean? Have I written myself out?" This from the composer who
has yet to write the Pathétique, the Nutcracker, Romeo & Juliet, the Queen of Spades and Sleeping
Beauty. A month later, he writes to his patroness von Meck: "I am dreadfully anxious to prove not only to
others, but also to myself, that I am not yet played out as a composer."
As the project nears completion, he writes again: "I have been working with good results, and half the symphony
is orchestrated. My age – although not very advanced – begins to tell. I get very tired now, and can no longer
play or read at night as I used." Almost triumphantly he writes her at the end of the summer: "My symphony
is ready, and it seems to me that I have not failed, that it is good." Of course, it is not unusual for middle-aged
composers to harbor self-doubts, but with his supposed bipolar (manic-depressive) condition, he may have suffered
more acutely than others. Since then, it has become perhaps his most popular symphony, although most musicians
would probably apply the adjective "best" to his last and most intensely autobiographical work, the sixth
(Pathétique).
Tchaikovsky's life was in constant conflict due, at least partly, to his ambivalent sexuality. According to recent
scholars, this conflict ultimately resulted in his own suicide by poison just days after the first performance
of the sixth symphony. The official account, promulgated by his family (and in particular Modeste), was that he
died of cholera after drinking untreated water. The modern theory holds that he was pressured into taking his own
life after becoming embroiled with a younger (male) member of the royal family.
As was his custom, the symphony begins in a minor key (all seven of his symphonies begin thus) and ends in the
corresponding major key. Whether we should draw some dark conclusion from this is unclear, as it was almost becoming
the fashion. Since Beethoven (all of whose symphonies begin in major keys, except the ninth), there was much more
experimentation with minor openings. And to end one's career with a minor key symphony was by then practically
de rigeur (Brahms and Dvorak, for example, followed Beethoven's example). The first performance was in St.
Petersburg on November 17, 1888. The symphony did not in fact become part of the "Moscow Nights" until
December 10, after several performances in St. Petersburg and Prague. This may have been pure logistics or perhaps
was a product of the slight but lingering antipathy between the composer and the Moscow musical coterie.
The symphony opens with the so-called "Fate" theme in the clarinets and low strings, to be heard again
in every movement. After the andante introduction, comes a rather lugubrious theme, first heard in clarinet
and bassoon. This theme, its rhythm transformed somewhat, becomes the main subject, now staccato, accented and
driving. Interspersed are two charming tranquillo sections. The main theme, now very quiet and smooth closes
out the movement. The slow second movement has all of Tchaikovsky's melodious charm, but the happy mood is interrupted
by the fate theme. The end of this movement has been described as Tchaikovsky's most powerful symphonic love elegy.
The third movement is a gracious waltz, partly based on a song Tchaikovsky had heard sung while in Florence. Fate
again interrupts at the end of the movement but with a more benign expression. In the finale, the powerful and
hymn-like introduction is also based on the fate theme, now in the major. There follows a rather energetic folk-dance-like
section which, like a reel, accelerates to a pitch of great excitement and ends with all the appropriate cadences
of the end of a movement. But don't be fooled, the music starts right up again with a kind of legato bell-peal
in the winds, inevitably to be followed by the fate theme as the symphony comes to its triumphant conclusion.
Robin Hillyard
|