"Valse triste" from Kuolema, Op. 44
Jean Sibelius
b. Hämeenlinna, Finland / December 8, 1865
d. Järvenpää, Finland / September 20, 1957
This concert begins and ends with atypically melancholy waltzes. Sibelius created this lovely “sad waltz,” one of his most familiar pieces, in 1903 as part of his incidental music for Kuolema (Death), a stage drama by his brother‑in‑law, Arvid Järnefelt. It accompanies the opening scene, in which the central character, Paavali, is seen at the bedside of his dying mother. She tells him of her dream of going to a ball. Later, when Paavali himself sleeps, Death comes to claim the mother and she, mistaking him for her dead husband, dances with him. When Paavali awakens, his mother is dead.
Symphony No. 5 in D Major, "Reformation," Op. 107
Felix Mendelssohn
b. Hamburg, Germany / February 3, 1809
d. Leipzig, Germany / November 4, 1847
Mendelssohn was born into a Jewish family, but his father had his children baptized as Christian Lutherans. The life and beliefs of Martin Luther, founder of Mendelssohn’s adopted faith, impressed the composer deeply. The year 1830 marked the 300th anniversary of the Augsburg Confession, the central statement of faith of the Lutheran Church. Mendelssohn decided to compose a symphony to celebrate the occasion, and to include in it a well-known hymn tune that Martin Luther had composed: Ein’ feste Burg ist unser Gott, A mighty fortress is our God. The “Reformation” Symphony was premiered, under the composer’s direction, in Berlin on November 15, 1832.
The first movement opens with a solemn introduction, in slow tempo and a major key. A stormy, minor-key main allegro follows. The scherzo is melodious and dance-like, in Mendelssohn’s most attractive fairy-tale manner. The third movement, a brief, prayer-like song without words, serves as much as a prelude to the finale as an independent section. The fourth movement follows on without a break; wind instruments perform Luther’s chorale theme. Other instruments join in until the entire wind section proudly gives out the sturdy melody. The strings enter and pave the way for a new, triumphant theme. At the climax, Luther’s hymn re-takes center stage, eventually concluding the symphony in the splendor of the full orchestra.
Violin Concerto (World Premiere)
Allen Shawn
b. New York, New York, USA / August 27, 1948
Allen Shawn grew up in New York City and started composing music at the age of ten. As a teenager he studied the piano with Francis Dillon and Emilie Harris. In his college years he studied composition with Leon Kirchner and Earl Kim at Harvard. Later he spent two years in Paris studying with Nadia Boulanger, and received his M.A. in music from Columbia University. Since 1985 he has lived in Vermont, where he is on the faculty of Bennington College. In addition to composing and teaching, Shawn performs frequently as a pianist, and is also the author of many articles and two books, Arnold Schoenberg’s Journey (2002) and Wish I Could Be There (2007).
Shawn’s musical output comprises more than a dozen orchestral works and concertos, three chamber operas, a large catalogue of chamber music, songs, choral music, and music for ballet, theater, and film. Recent recordings include a CD of his chamber music, a recording of his Piano Concerto, volume II in a series devoted to his piano music, and a CD of his opera The Music Teacher. His music has appeared on Rochester Philharmonic programs on two previous occasions: in 2001 when the orchestra presented his Piano Concerto, and in 2006, when Christopher Seaman led a performance of his 1987 Symphony In Three Parts.
The composer writes,
"My Violin Concerto owes its existence first and foremost to the generosity of Ron and Donna Fielding, who commissioned the work for the Rochester Philharmonic, and tonight’s soloist, Juliana Athayde. I am grateful beyond words to the Fieldings for making this occasion possible. I have also been enormously fortunate to benefit from the enthusiastic support and helpfulness of conductor Christopher Seaman, and overjoyed to be able to hear my music performed with such expertise by the orchestra, and with such impassioned artistry by violinist Juliana Athayde.
"I grew up hearing my brother play the violin and I first learned to love the instrument by reading through the classical repertoire with him and writing pieces for us to play together. Although I am a pianist myself, I can’t help thinking of the violin and its repertoire as something close to the very soul of music.
"I wrote the short score of my Violin Concerto in the summer of 2008 and did the orchestration in the summer of 2009.
"My concerto is fundamentally a singing, lyrical piece. The first movement begins with a wisp of an orchestral idea that is heard again in the third and fourth movements, followed by a brief violin solo. The violin then unfolds a long melodic line over an undulating accompaniment. The central section of the movement becomes more agitated, with the violin seeming to wrestle with more aggressive ideas, while never quite bursting out of a confined space, like a tiger pacing in a cage. After this the original lyrical music returns, though in a more rhapsodic, less tranquil form.
"The second movement, introduced by the trumpets which were silent in the first movement, is fast and angular, with some moments that are suave and dance-like; all in all, a kind of sardonic scherzo.
"Movement III is elegiac and intimate. The concerto was composed shortly after I had written three piano Elegies, and the tone of loss struck by this movement resembles that of the elegies.
"It would have been easy to imagine a rather somber finale for this concerto, but the final movement is in fact primarily buoyant and joyful in tone, balancing contrasting ideas in a spirit of energetic play. These ideas include suggestions of baroque counterpoint, jazzy dance rhythms, and a waltz episode."
La valse
Maurice Ravel
b. Ciboure, France / March 7, 1875
d. Paris, France / December 28, 1937
Ravel had considered writing a tribute to the Strauss family dynasty of Vienna as early as 1906, but by the time he did compose it, in 1919-20, the world had undergone significant and disturbing changes. Late in 1919, impresario Sergei Diaghilev invited him to turn the Vienna project into a ballet. Once he heard it, however, he declared that it was “a masterpiece, but it is not a ballet. It is the portrait of a ballet, the painting of a ballet.” Ravel calmly picked up his score, walked out and never spoke to Diaghilev again.
The music emerges out of silence through a throbbing, indistinct opening, as if some aging, unhealthy creature were awakening or emerging from hibernation. The opening theme gradually becomes more distinct as the volume rises, then it bursts forth in full glory as the first climax is reached. As the music moves forward, it retains an outwardly gracious and carefree mood, but dark, portentous undercurrents persist. The atmosphere gradually grows more tense, more abandoned, less controlled and controllable. Short, sharp waves of dynamic contrast push the music close to a scream, capped by a gasping pause, then a final out-of-control, nightmarish whirl and collapse.
© 2010 Don Anderson. All rights reserved.
