PROGRAM NOTES

4 April 2008 Concert

 

Pavane, Opus 50

Gabriel Fauré (1845-1924)

 

The pavane was a dance form originating in Italy during the early part of the sixteenth century. The name possibly derives from a location (both pavana and padoano mean “of Padua”). Another possible source, more visually appealing, is the Spanish word for peacock: pavón. One can imagine court dancers moving with stately elegance to the slow double time of the melody, the women in long trailing gowns, the men in brightly colored jackets and powdered wigs. By the time Fauré wrote his Pavane (1886), the dance was no longer in fashion. However, it survives today in the hesitation step sometimes used in formal wedding processions.

 

Fauré, who was born in southern France, received his musical education in Paris at the Ecole Niedermeyer, an institution that trained church musicians. He became an organist, first in Rennes and then back in Paris; he also held the post of choirmaster at the Church of the Madeleine. Fauré was one of the founders of the Societé Nationale de Musique, which premièred a number of his compositions. Eventually he joined the faculty of the Paris Conservatoire as Professor of Composition. One of his pupils was Maurice Ravel, whose Pavane for a Dead Princess (1899, 1911) was performed at our January 2008 concert.

 

                  Toni Empringham

 

Violin Concerto No. 1 in G Minor, Opus 26

Max Bruch (1838-1920)

 

Like Fauré, Max Bruch spans the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Unlike Fauré, however, his music is firmly rooted in the Romantic period and is seldom heard today, with the exception of this stunningly opulent concerto. Bruch was born in Cologne, where he studied music (including the violin); he later moved to Berlin and taught composition at the Academy of Music. The G Minor Concerto is his first major work, and its performance history reflects the composer’s struggle and initial dissatisfaction with the results. After a preliminary public performance, the celebrated violinist Joseph Joachim--who later influenced the Brahms violin concerto as well--made some valuable suggestions that Bruch gratefully incorporated. The final version premièred in 1868 with Joachim as soloist.

 

The first and third movements, Vorspiel (Prelude) and Finale (Allegro energico), can be regarded as a musical frame for the brooding, lyrical Adagio, which musicologist David Kopplin has called “as rich and seductive as any in the genre.” In a poll of all-time classical favorites published in April of 2000 by The Guardian of Great Britain, entitled the “Millennium Top 20,” Bruch’s First Violin Concerto was voted number one, ahead of Rachmaninoff’s Piano Concerto No. 2 (in second place), Mozart’s Clarinet Concerto in A (third), three works by Beethoven (seven through nine), and Handel’s Messiah (a distant number 18).

 

                  T.E.

 

Symphony No. 3, “Rhenish,” in E Flat Major, Opus 97

Robert Schumann (1810-1856)

 

In 1850, Schumann was appointed principal conductor at Düsseldorf. This was a happy time for Schumann. He felt that his position as a leading composer in Germany was being acknowledged, and he was gaining success, both personally and artistically, with this new post. A cruise down the Rhine during that time is said to have been the inspiration for the “Rhenish” Symphony  (a nickname not proposed by Schumann). The symphony itself was completed in just over a month in late 1850. The first performance was given on February 6, 1851, with the composer conducting his new orchestra. Unfortunately, the happiness Düsseldorf and the Rhineland brought Schumann was short-lived; two years later, after showing the first symptoms of schizophrenia, he tried to drown himself in the same river that had been his inspiration. He eventually died in 1856 in an asylum.

 

The symphony is in five movements. The first movement, Lebhaft (lively), is a sonata-allegro with great rhythmic drive and intensity. From the start the meter is in question, as the music in the first six measures cuts across the meter in a broad hemiola, only to be tentatively established in the seventh. Not until the bridge passage, with its running eighth-note scales, is the meter solidified. The second theme, by contrast, is a lyrical chorale introduced by the winds. The second movement, Scherzo: Sehr mässig (very moderate), is a light-hearted Ländler, a German folk dance, which flows leisurely and effortlessly to a quiet, contented ending. It would not surprise anyone to learn that Schumann originally titled this movement “Morning on the Rhine.”

 

The third movement, Nicht schnell (not fast), is a noble interlude dominated by ever-present winds. A pleasant mood of peaceful solitude pervades uninterrupted throughout. The movement is made up of three distinct themes which become intertwined at the end. It is interesting that while much has been said of Schumann's ineptness as an orchestrator, he was a very practical one. German orchestras of his day showed serious weaknesses, and often, as was the case with the Düsseldorf Orchestra, key members were often not present in performances. In an effort to have all the important musical lines heard, Schumann doubled and often tripled the coverage of each one. The result is a rather monochromatic orchestral sound. The content, however, remains intact.

 

Three trombones (creative orchestration?), which have had nothing to do until now, introduce the austere strains of the fourth movement: Feierlich (solemn). The elevation of Archbishop von Geissel to Cardinal in a ceremony held in the beautiful Gothic Cologne Cathedral is said to be the inspiration for this music. The original title, “In the Character of an Accompaniment to a Solemn Ceremony,” was withdrawn by the composer before publication, though it did appear in the program for the première. Here the inspiration is Bach, in music of profound dignity and majestic courage. 

 

The finale, Lebhaft (lively), shows Schumann's sunniest and happiest mood. The original disposition of the symphony returns in triumph as the strings lead the way, but it isn't long before they are briefly superseded by the winds and a brilliant brass fanfare. A typical Schumann feature is for the coda to be the climax, and here this is clearly the case. The coda brings back some themes from the fourth movement and keeps building in intensity to a rousing finish, with hunting horn calls and firmly established tonality.

 

                  Bill Malcolm

 

 

Please see http://www.beachcitiessymphony.org/PDF/newsletter0804.pdf for program biographies.

 

 

 

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