Cockaigne, Op. 40
Sir Edward Elgar
b. Broadheath, England / June 2, 1857
d. Worcester, England / February 23, 1934
First performed by the RPO on October 31, 1923; Eugene Goossens, conductor. Last performed February 23, 1991; Mark Elder, conductor
Elgar preferred country living to the city. He clearly kept a warm spot in his heart for London, however, as this robust concert overture clearly demonstrates. The commission came from the Philharmonic Society of London, in recognition of the sharp rise in Elgar’s stock brought about by the success of his Enigma Variations in 1899. He composed Cockaigne over the winter of 1900-1901, and conducted the highly successful premiere himself on June 20. It bears a dedication, “To my many friends the members of British orchestras.”
The title originated in the medieval legend of Cockaigne, a mythical land of plenty. The name later came to be associated in a humorous way with London. It may the source of the slang word “cockney.” Although it bears no official program, Elgar told friends that Cockaigne portrays the sights and sounds of the English capital. In it may be heard the cries of street urchins, the parading by of brass bands, and music for the contrasting areas of quiet, reflection, and romance which dot the face of London. This is warm-hearted, optimistic music, mirroring the bustling spirit of a great metropolis in a time of plenty. “Here is nothing deep or melancholy,” Elgar wrote. “It is intended to be honest, healthy, humorous, and strong but not vulgar.”
Piano Concerto No. 1 in E-flat Major
Franz Liszt
b. Raiding, Hungary / October 22, 1811
d. Bayreuth, Germany / July 31, 1886
First performed by the RPO on February 12, 1976; David Zinman, conductor; Martha Argerich, piano. Last performed October 14, 2006; Christopher Seaman, conductor; Andrew von Oeyen, piano.
Liszt was not only the foremost virtuoso pianist of his era, he was also a prime mover behind many important innovations in the field of composition. One of his most striking and influential creative achievements was the development of the symphonic poem, a form of orchestral music inspired by such extra musical concepts as literature, artwork, and natural phenomena. To bind the various and continuous sections of such works together, he developed a compositional method through which the entire piece is based on the evolution and transformation of a few short, simple themes. Liszt’s piano concertos also make use of this “transformation of themes” technique. They are, in effect, symphonic poems with the piano soloist as the central character.
Concertos 1 and 2 evolved over lengthy periods, perhaps as much as 30 years. Concerto No. 3 probably dates from the same time frame as the earliest drafts of its companions. At the premiere of the final version of Concerto No. 1 (Weimar, Germany, 1855), Liszt himself played the solo part, with his friend and musical soul mate Hector Berlioz conducting. What a dazzling performance that must have been!
Much fuss was made over Liszt’s use of a triangle in the scherzo of the concerto. Critics thought its silvery frivolity out of place in a serious composition. Actually, it sounds right at home in this brilliant music. In addition to humor, the concerto contains ample amounts of drama, tenderness, and commanding energy. The heroic demands of the solo part reflect the composer’s own sovereign gifts.
Symphony No. 4 in F Minor, Op. 36
Piotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky
b. Kamsko-Votkinsk, Russia / May 7, 1840
d. St. Petersburg, Russia / November 6, 1893
First performed by the RPO on December 12, 1923; Vladimir Shavitch, conductor. Last performed July 18, 2009; Christopher Seaman, conductor.
This turbulent work reflects the personal turmoil Tchaikovsky underwent during its creation. He began composing it in February 1877, during the same period that he entered into highly influential relationships with two women. The first was Nadezhda von Meck, a wealthy patron of music. Already deeply attached to Tchaikovsky’s compositions, she made contact with him through a mutual acquaintance: conductor/pianist Nikolai Rubinstein. She agreed to supply Tchaikovsky with a generous monthly allowance, thus giving him the opportunity to compose more freely.
The second woman was Antonina Milyukova, an emotionally unstable former student in his composition class at the Moscow Conservatory. Her declarations of love left him deeply confused. His lack of experience in personal matters, his desperate desire to conceal his homosexuality, a desire to please his aging father by getting respectably married off, and Milyukova’s persistence led him to give into her advances. They were married on July 6.
He apparently had attempted to impress upon her that theirs was to be a strictly platonic relationship. The message had not gotten through, however, with the result that their union lasted just a few months. Tchaikovsky became so distraught that he had a nervous breakdown and attempted suicide. He fled to France, Italy, and Austria. After resuming work on the symphony towards the end of the year, he completed it in Venice during January 1878. Nikolay Rubinstein conducted the first performance, which took place in Moscow one month later.
In a letter to Mme. von Meck, Tchaikovsky disclosed the ideas and emotions which he had borne in mind while composing the symphony. A harsh brass fanfare opens the symphony and recurs throughout it. “This is Fate,” Tchaikovsky wrote, “the power which hinders one in the pursuit of happiness from gaining the goal, whose jealousy provides that peace and comfort do not prevail, that the sky is not free from clouds – a might that swings, like the sword of Damocles, constantly over the head, that poisons continually the soul. This might is overpowering and invincible. There is nothing to do but submit and vainly to complain.”
The two main themes of the first movement proper are a restless, yearning string melody and a wistful, dance like theme introduced by solo clarinet. The latter offers some moments of consolation, only to be driven savagely into the background by the Fate theme. The coda is stark and uncompromisingly tragic: Fate seen triumphant.
“The second movement shows another phase of sadness,” Tchaikovsky continued. “Here is that melancholy feeling that enwraps one when he sits alone at night in the house exhausted by work; a swarm of reminiscences arises. It is sad, yet sweet, to lose one’s self in the past.”
The atmosphere of gloom is dispelled by a playful scherzo, where the strings play pizzicato from first bar to last. “Here are capricious arabesques, vague figures which slip into the imagination when one has taken wine and is slightly intoxicated,” according to Tchaikovsky. In the middle section, oboes and bassoons give out a rustic dance tune, while brass and piccolo offer a humorous imitation of military band music.
A brilliant flourish for full orchestra gets the finale under way at top speed. Woodwinds introduce the main theme, a Russian folk song called In the Meadow There Stands a Birch Tree. The original words have to do with the fates of unmarried women, marking a possible connection with Tchaikovsky’s bride. A confident, march like theme appears. After this sequence is repeated, the atmosphere gradually loses its sense of well being. The Fate theme from the first movement makes a catastrophic reappearance, bringing the festivities to a grinding halt.
But all is not lost. “If you find no pleasure in yourself, look about you. Go to the people. See how they can enjoy life and give themselves up entirely to festivity. There still is happiness, simple, naive happiness. Rejoice in the happiness of others – and you can still live.” The music regains its momentum and ends in a blaze of celebration.
© 2010 Don Anderson. All rights reserved.
