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Madison Symphony Orchestra Program Notes
November 12-13-14, 2021
96th Season
Michael Allsen
This varied program opens with our first
performance of Honegger’s Rugby,
a wild celebration of athleticism. The Madison Symphony
Orchestra then welcomes the young Cuban-American cellist Thomas
Mesa, who makes his Overture Hall debut with Dvořák’s great Cello Concerto.
Following intermission, we perform the music of African-American
composer George Walker, his wistful Lyric for Strings. We
end with the Grand Canyon
Suite, Grofé’s vivid portrait of the American
Southwest…accompanied on this program by projected images of the
equally vivid landscapes it depicts.
Honegger’s
1928 Rugby is a
musical picture of a rugby match. Like the game itself,
Honegger’s music is often rough and even violent…and ends with a
rowdy victory celebration!
Arthur Honegger
Born:
March 10, 1892, Le Havre, France.
Died:
November 27, 1955, Paris, France.
Rugby
(Mouvement symphonique No. 2)
• Composed: 1928.
• Premiere: October 19,
1928 in Paris, conducted by Ernest Ansermet.
• Previous MSO Performances:
This is our first performance of the work.
• Duration: 8:00.
Background
Swiss-French Arthur Honegger was a member of
the influential group of young composers that French critics
labeled Les Six—a
group that sought to create a new, straightforward, and
distinctly French style in the years after the first world war.
Honegger’s music was generally more serious in tone than that of
his Les Six
colleagues Milhaud, Poulenc, and Satie, but, like other members
of the group, he was willing to incorporate virtually any sort
of musical influence into his composition. His compositions
incorporate elements as diverse as Gregorian chant, American
jazz, natural sounds, and even industrial sounds—as in his
famous Pacific 231,
an evocation of a steam engine by a symphony orchestra. His work
up through the second world war was dominated by oratorios,
operas, ballets and other theatrical music, and film scores.
(Honegger was one of France’s first great film composers.)
During the war he taught in Paris at the National School of
Music, and turned increasingly to the symphony, writing the last
four of his five symphonies in 1940-1950.
Rugby
is the second of three modernist “symphonic movements” Honegger
composed between 1923 and 1946 (Pacific 231 was Mouvement symphonique No. 1).
According to the composer, the piece had its origins in a 1927
conversation with the sports editor for one of the Parisian
newspapers. Honegger jokingly suggested that he could imagine a
symphonic poem based upon a rugby match, and the journalist
clearly took him seriously enough to publish an announcement
that Honegger was in fact working on such a piece. The amused
composer eventually did compose Rugby, which would
become one of his most often-played short orchestral pieces.
What
You’ll Hear
French critic André George described the
premiere of Rugby in
October 1928:
“… Rugby is first of all
a ‘movement of teams’ (a mélée
of bodies = counterpoint, the two opposing camps = two musical
themes)…and a lyrical dynamism. Between the beginning in D Major
and the ending in the same key, there are naturally many
intermediate ‘passes,’ but the orchestra, with a single impulse,
irresistibly and simply breathes the healthfulness and joy of
sport.”
The action begins immediately with forceful
and dissonant music. Though Honegger did not publish a specific
program, it is perfectly easy to imagine all of the action of a
rugby match—tackles, scrums, and open-field runs—in his
energetic and sometimes disjointed music. It closes with what is
obviously a short, joyful celebration by the winning team.
Dvořák’s Cello Concerto,
certainly one of the longest and most profound concertos for the
instrument, was written during his sojourn in the United States
during the 1890s. This work is “symphonic” in scope, beginning
with an extended and intense opening movement, and continuing
through a lovely slow movement based upon one of his songs, and
an aggressive finale.
Antonín Dvořák
Born:
September 8, 1841, Nelahozeves,
Czech Republic.
Died:
May 1, 1904, Prague, Czech Republic.
Concerto
for Cello and Orchestra in B minor, Op. 104
• Composed: 1894-95.
• Premiere: March 19, 1896 in Queens Hall, London,
with Leo Stern as soloist and Dvořák conducting.
• Previous MSO Performances:
1967 (Raya Garbousova), 1977 (Zara Nelsova), 1995 (Desmond
Hoebig), 2005 (Carter Brey), and 2010 (Alisa Weilerstein).
• Duration: 40:00.
Background
Three of Dvořák’s
most profound works were written during his three-year stay in
America (1892-95): the Symphony
No.9 (“from the New World”), his F Major string quartet,
and the concerto heard on this program. The immediate
inspiration for his cello concerto may have been a performance
of a concerto by Victor Herbert, then principal cellist with the
New York Philharmonic. However, his friend Hanus Wihan, cellist
of the Bohemian Quartet had been urging him to write a concerto
even before Dvořák left for
America.
The first sketches of the concerto date from
the spring of 1894, when Dvořák
was briefly back in Bohemia. He completed the score in New York
City in February of 1895. When he returned to Prague in April of
that year, he handed the score over to Wihac, who carefully
edited the solo part. However, Dvořák
made several more revisions to the concerto, and when it was
published in 1896, very few of Wihac’s ideas were used. This
chilled their friendship, and Wihac seems to have been
especially disappointed by revisions made to the end of the
third movement. He had requested that the concerto end with a
grand virtuoso cadenza, but at the last minute Dvořák changed the last 60 measures
to round off the concerto in a more contemplative mood. In the
end, even though the published score was dedicated to Wihac, he
declined to play the premiere. This concerto was to be Dvořák’s last completed orchestral
work.
The movements of the concerto are symphonic
in size, dwarfing Dvořák’s
violin concerto of 1882. Indeed, parts of it may originally have
been conceived in the composer’s mind as a symphony. When some
friends from New York City took him to visit Niagara Falls in
1892, he was deeply impressed, and exclaimed: “My word, that is
going to be a symphony in B minor!” This symphony was never
written, but the B minor cello concerto might well have had its
roots in this moment of excitement. There is also a
moment of much more personal significance in the second
movement. Its lyrical second theme is drawn from one of Dvořák’s songs, Lasst mich allein in
meinen Träumen gehn (“Let me wander alone in my dreams,”
Op.82). This seems to have been a tribute to Dvořák’s sister-in-law Josefina
Kauric. The composer had fallen deeply in love with her as a
young man in the 1860s, but she did not return his love. Dvořák would eventually marry
Josefina’s sister Anna, but he and Josefina remained close
friends throughout their lives. He was devastated when he
received word in New York that Josefina was dying. The song
was a favorite of hers, and its text probably reflects Dvořák’s emotions at the time.
What
You’ll Hear
The opening movement (Allegro) begins quietly
in the woodwinds, but soon reaches a tremendous peak, with full
orchestra building on the opening idea. The lovely second theme
is laid out by the horn and clarinet. When the soloist enters,
it is with aggressive variations of the opening theme. The
cello’s treatment of the second theme is much more
straightforward and lyrical, although it quickly spins off into
an ornate set of runs. The full orchestra returns to round off
the exposition with a statement of the first theme, and the
relatively brief development section is taken up with
emotionally reserved treatments of this theme. At the end, Dvořák brings back the themes in
reverse order. The movement ends with a dazzling cadenza-style
passage by the soloist and a triumphant statement of the main
theme by the brass.
The slow movement (Adagio non troppo)
begins with a lovely folklike melody in the solo clarinet, which
is then taken up and given broader treatment by the cello. The
second idea, Dvořák’s tribute
to his beloved Josefina, appears after a forceful passage for
full orchestra. This melody is expanded in conversations between
the soloist and the woodwinds. The orchestra returns forcefully
to announce a more tragic central section. Throughout this
episode, Dvořák makes
prominent use of woodwind soloists, and he rounds it off with a
beautiful horn chorale. When the folklike theme returns, it is
highly ornamented by the soloist and overlaid by a solo flute.
In the conclusion, the orchestral accompaniment remains quietly
in the background, allowing the cello to carry the most
expressive moments in the concerto.
The final movement (Allegro) is a rondo,
with a march-style main theme introduced by the horns, and
quickly developed by the cello. The first contrasting episode
has the cello playing above a sparse woodwind background, but
this theme is eventually expanded to full strength, and rounded
off with ominous trombone chords. After a brief return of the
march music, Dvořák begins
another contrasting section, now in a slower tempo and a major
key. The cello touches upon the march theme again, and the
closing episode comes as a series of reminiscences of themes
from previous movements. At the end, the orchestra provides a
brief coda, with a final forceful statement of the march.
The music of
American composer George Walker appears for the first time at
our concerts: his Lyric
for Strings, a quiet and lovely work written as a memorial
to his grandmother.
George Walker
Born:
June 27, 1922, Washington, DC.
Died:
August 23, 2018, Montclair, New Jersey.
Lyric for Strings
Background
Composer and pianist George Walker was born
in Washington, DC, and his first musical training was from his
mother and at the Howard University Prep School. By age 18,
Walker had already graduated from the Oberlin Conservatory and
went on to study at Philadelphia’s Curtis Institute before
touring successfully as a pianist. He later attended the
American Academy in Fontainbleu, France where, like many
American composers of his generation, he studied with the great
composition teacher Nadia Boulanger. He completed a Ph.D at the
Eastman School of Music. By the time he retired in 1992, Walker
had had a distinguished career as an academic, teaching
composition at Rutgers University, Smith College, the Peabody
Conservatory and others. In 1996, Walker became the first living
African American composer to win a Pulitzer Prize in Music—for
his 1995 composition Lilacs.
What
You’ll Hear
Lyric
for Strings was originally the slow movement of string
quartet Walker composed when he was just eighteen, and a student
at the Curtis Institute. Originally titled Lament, Walker
described the piece as a memorial to his grandmother, Malvina
King, who died shortly before he wrote it. It develops from a
stark and simple beginning to a long free-flowing melody. This
flowing music alternates with a series of solemn chords. The
music reaches a restrained climax near the midpoint and fades
gently away.
Grofe’s Grand Canyon Suite is
certainly one of the most famous musical works inspired by the
American landscape. Beginning with sections that depict a
glorious sunrise and the shimmering heat of the Painted Desert,
Grofé moves to a humorous donkey ride and a lonesome cowboy
song, before ending with a quiet sunset and a ferocious
thunderstorm.
Ferde Grofé (1892-1972)
Born:
March 27, 1892, New York City.
Died: April 3, 1972, Santa Monica,
California.
Grand
Canyon Suite
Background
Grofé’s Grand Canyon Suite was
the last product of his long association with the bandleader
Paul Whiteman. Born in New York City, Grofé received classical
training in Germany as a child. He spent his teens working as a
violinist and pianist in dance bands. Though he was familiar
with classical music, and eventually played in the Los Angeles
Symphony, Grofé became increasingly involved with the new style
known as “rhythm music” or jazz, and worked as a pianist and
arranger in early Los Angeles jazz bands. He was hired as an
arranger by Whiteman, the self-styled “King of Jazz,” in 1920,
and was largely responsible for creating Whiteman’s successful
“symphonic jazz” style. In 1924, he provided the arrangement for
Gershwin’s Rhapsody in
Blue, and later composed many successful works for the
Whiteman Orchestra. By 1930, Grofé’s music was becoming more
“symphonic” than “jazz,” and in 1931, he composed his Grand Canyon Suite.
Though it is based upon a famous American landmark, the Grand Canyon Suite is
programmatic music very much in the European classical
tradition.
The piece was written at Whiteman’s request
in the summer of 1931, and Grofé retreated to “a secluded
lakeside cottage in Wisconsin” to finish the work. Though the
piece is a tonal picture of Arizona’s most famous landmark, most
of Grofé’s direct inspiration came from closer to home. The
gallumphing donkeys of On
the Trail were probably based on the rhythm of pile
drivers at work outside of Grofé’s Chicago apartment, and the
cowboy ballad at the middle of that movement apparently came
from the squeaking of his son’s baby carriage. And the
inspiration for the famous Cloudburst finale was
not the spectacular weather of the Grand Canyon, but a Wisconsin
thunderstorm that Grofé witnessed at his cottage near Hayward!
The Suite
became a factor in Grofé’s angry split from Whiteman. After
Whiteman moved to Chicago in 1930, Grofe’s role as lead arranger
was largely taken over by another musician, and he began to
moonlight as an arranger for radio and for other bands. The Grand Canyon Suite was
a tremendous success when Whiteman introduced it in the fall of
1931, so much so, that it became Grofé’s ticket out of the band.
He began to conduct
performances of the piece that did not involve Whiteman; the
last straw was when he arranged for a concert in New York that
competed directly with a Whiteman show. They did not speak for
years afterwards, and even though they would reunite later for
revivals of the Whiteman Orchestra, they were never again on
friendly terms. For his part Grofé went on to a successful
career as a conductor and composer for radio and film. The Grand Canyon Suite
remains his most familiar work, particularly in the full
orchestra version, first recorded by Arturo Toscanini in 1935.
What You’ll Hear
Sunrise,
the opening movement, is based upon a continuously-rising
ostinato that builds to a great orchestral climax, as woodwind
chirps and twitters stand in for the awakening birds. Painted Desert is a
quiet moment of mysterious Impressionist effects, portraying the
stark beauty and heat of this landscape. On the Trail is Grofé’s
famous sound portrait of the donkey trains that carry tourists
down into the canyon. After a “hee-haw” of protest and a brief
violin cadenza, the donkeys begin a steady pace down the
precipitous trail. At the bottom. there is a more lyrical cowboy
song, as the tourists rest their saddle sores in preparation for
the long ride home. Sunset,
opens with a horn call, answered by the main theme, played in
rather spooky string timbres. The movement eventually dies away
to into darkness. There are many orchestral renditions of
thunderstorms, but Grofé’s Cloudburst has to be one of the most effective. It
begins quietly, but moves inexorably towards a crashing climax,
driven by ostinato-style writing in the brass, and flashes of
orchestral lightning. In the end, the storm fades away and is
replaced by a broad statement of the cowboy tune from On the Trail.
________
program
notes ©2021 by J. Michael Allsen