Aaron Copland (born 1900):

An Outdoor Overture (1938)

Aaron Copland wrote this overture especially for a high school orchestra in New York City when he jumped at the chance to contribute to Alexander Richter's campaign for "American music for American youth". The title "Outdoor" was a joint effort of the two men and came after the composition. It's a straightforward piece with a simple message: enjoy! As you might expect, the music is not particularly difficult to perform, but like any piece, it comes alive when played well.

Franz Josef Haydn (1732-1809):

Cello Concerto in D Major (1783)

Allegro moderato - Adagio - Allegro

During the late 18th century, the concerto made the transition from a vehicle primarily for a performer to show his skill into a musical form in which the soloist became a part, albeit the major part, of a complete musical experience, more like a symphony or opera. Until this period, composers were usually virtuoso exponents of the featured instrument (Vivaldi being a notable exception). Mozart continued this tradition but at the same time led the development of the more symphonic concerto.

Against this background, and despite the fact that Haydn was not known as a great virtuoso, his irrepressible musicality and the inspiration of his friend, cellist Anton Kraft, combined to engender one of the most enjoyable concerti in the repertoire. Indeed, until forty years ago, it was widely believed that Kraft himself was the composer, on the grounds that the cello writing was too good for a non-player to have written! Although preceded by his youthful C major concerto, this concerto really marks the first of the regrettably few great concerti for the instrument. This is not so surprising when we recall that the violoncello had itself only recently finally won the battle of supremacy over the bass viol and that Haydn had composed many works for another popular competitor at the time, the baryton.

The rather stately first movement opens with a fairly long introduction of the main thematic material, followed by the cello which quickly improvises on these themes. The beautifully lyrical second movement really gets the cello to "sing". The third movement is a light-hearted but rousing finale, not as fast as is customary for such concerto endings.

Ludwig Van Beethoven (1770-1827):

Symphony No. 6 in F major, op. 68

Allegro ma non troppo: Awakenings of joyful feelings on arrival in the country;

Andante molto moto: Scene at the brook;

Allegro: Merrymaking of the country folk;

Allegro: Thunderstorm;

Allegretto: Pastoral Song - feelings of happiness and gratitude after the storm.

The Pastoral Symphony, as No. 6 is known, is surely the best-loved of all the "nature" works. For sheer beauty and melody, it is hard to beat. Some of the musical imitations of nature, especially the thunderstorm, are quite brilliant.

Although essentially a town-dweller, Beethoven had a deep appreciation of the countryside. He wrote the symphony at Heiligenstadt near Vienna between 1807 and 1808. He wrote this symphony more or less at the same time as the ever-popular 5th. He had been spending much of his time in Heiligenstadt since 1802 when his doctor recommended it to him as a refuge for his increasing deafness. Surprisingly to those of us accustomed to thinking of Beethoven going deaf in his later years, he had in fact started to lose hearing in 1778, when he was only 27 years old, halfway through his life!

There is an important link between Haydn and Beethoven, beyond the fact that they both came to live in Vienna and that Haydn was one of Beethoven's teachers. In fact Haydn, more than anyone else, was responsible for Beethoven's relocation to Vienna and, indirectly, for his success. It came about in 1790 when Haydn, at that time considered the greatest living composer [future generations have come to reverse his relative importance compared with Mozart], happened to pass through Bonn, Beethoven's birthplace, on his way to London. He was sufficiently impressed by one of Beethoven's compositions, that he stopped on the return journey to meet Beethoven in person. It was at Haydn's insistence that the young composer moved to Vienna. Such a perfect mentor/student relationship was not to last long, however, because the temperaments of the two men were quite opposed. Beethoven's boorish manners would have suited Mozart far better than the gentlemanly "Papa Haydn". Amadeus fans will be interested to note that one of the teachers Beethoven then sought was none other than Salieri.

In the gentle and lyrical first movement, the ma non troppo is generally taken so seriously that the movement is more like an allegretto. It is has two principal motifs: the first, which is introduced in the first measures by the violins, is reminiscent of a shepherd's pipe; the second is the two-note falling fourth of the cuckoo. It is difficult for Americans to understand the significance of the cuckoo in music because, unfortunately, the bird which makes this wonderfully evocative sound does not occur in the New World. But to Europeans, the familiar sound of the cuckoo is a sure sign that spring has arrived, and with it, especially for those unlucky in love like Beethoven, renewed hope.

The second movement is one of the most beautiful compositions by Beethoven or, indeed, by anyone. It depicts a babbling brook with the pulsating flow perfectly captured by the various instruments of the orchestra. At the close, our cuckoo returns, this time in a trio with a quail and a nightingale.

In the scherzo (the third movement), we see the villagers dancing to a rather complex rhythm led by the oboe. As Berlioz pointed out, the accompaniment for this section appears to be an ancient bassoonist playing an equally ancient instrument which seems only to be able to play the three notes F-C-F. No doubt Beethoven was thinking something like that, because he gives this line especially to the second bassoon. There are no cuckoos in this movement, at least none the right way up! The first two notes of nearly every phrase are an ascending fourth.

Unfortunately for the revelers, the movement goes straight into the thunderstorm. The patter of the raindrops, the distant rolls of thunder, everything is so perfectly evocative of a storm. At the height of the storm, Beethoven unleashes the trombones for the full fury. Afterwards, when the thunder has rolled away, a tranquil melody leads directly into the final movement, a happy and joyful thanksgiving. Everything is right with the world. The symphony ends with another short beautiful passage, the hymn of thanks itself.