Today marks the 100th installment in the This Week’s Music tradition! For those of you who have been with us since the email days, this is more like #200, but we have now reached the 100 mark here on the website. To celebrate the occasion, our music this week will be one of the very first pieces we ever listened to: Overture on a Hebrew Theme by Prokofiev.
Overture on a Hebrew Theme was written in 1919 while Prokofiev was visiting friends in the United States. It was written for a very rare combination of instruments – clarinet, piano, and a string quartet (2 violins, viola, and cello). Prokofiev apparently wrote the work in response to a commission from the Zimro Ensemble, a Russian group with the combination of instruments noted above. He grudgingly agreed to write them a composition and remained stolidly disapproving of the work for the rest of his life. His dislike of the piece, however, is surprising given the positive response it elicited from the public.
The work carries a distinctively Russian flavor, due largely to the efforts of the clarinetist. It features melancholy lines that are meditative and reflective in nature, interspersed with multiple sections of lively transition. The most memorable and beautiful theme comes in at 2:37. This melody is one of those rare gems that feels like you’ve always known it.
Our music for today is the Piano Trio in A Minor by Tchaikovsky, performed by three of the greatest Russian musicians of all time: Oleg Kagan (violin), Sviatoslav Richter (piano), and Natalia Gutman (cello). This performance was shortly after Kagan was diagnosed with cancer that would lead to his untimely death at only 44 years of age in 1990. I am one of the many who believe that he would have become “the next Oistrakh” or “the next Heifetz” had he lived a full life.
Tchaikovsky wrote this trio as one long transition from A Major to A Minor. His hope was that the listener would be able to grasp the long (90 pages!) journey from one world to another.
The first movement is in sonata form. It opens with a soulful melody in the cello that is passed around the trio throughout the rest of the movement. Listen for the many different permutations of this theme that Tchaikovsky creates.
The second movement is a set of ten variations on a theme that is introduced by the piano in the opening bars. First, the violin takes the theme. Second, the cello tries its hand at the melody. Third, the strings play pizzicato while the piano accelerates into a Scherzo variation. Fourth, the three combine again for a rich, soulful variation. Fifth, the piano seems to imitate bells with its ringing version of the main theme. Sixth, the cello leads the trio in a waltz. Seventh, the piano brings us back to a nearly identical version of the original theme. Eighth, the three instruments power their way through a busy Fugue. Ninth, the cello carries the trio through a slow and pensive meditation. Finally, the three instruments race to the finish in a light-hearted Mazurka.
The final movement is actually another variation on the theme that begins the second movement, but this time it is more developed. Listen for the way that Tchaikovsky finishes the trio with a combination of the second movement’s main theme and the theme from the opening of the first movement.
Our music
for this week is a performance of Libertango, composed by Argentine composer Astor
Piazolla. The performers are the twelve cellists of the Berlin Philharmonic
Orchestra.
Astor
Piazolla is one of the most important musical voices of the twentieth century. He
was driving force behind the development of the tango as a popular musical form, and many have called him the “Duke
Ellington of tango.” Much like his European counterparts Bartok and Kodaly,
Piazolla was fascinated by folk music and sought to expose it to a wider
audience. To do so, he blended Argentine folk tunes with elements of classical,
jazz, and rock-and-roll. This combination of influences is a large part of what
made his music appealing to such a wide audience. In fact, Libertango is often
referred to as part of the pseudo-genre “nuevo tango,” which combined tango
form with other styles of music to create a Latin fusion of sorts.
This week’s
music also serves to point out an important but often overlooked fact about
orchestras. It is easy to forget the individual musicians in an orchestra because
of the collective nature of the performance, but we should remember that each
of those musicians is an incredible talent in his or her own right. Most if not
all of them could probably get up in front of the orchestra at any moment and
perform a full solo concerto. To get their position in the orchestra, each one
of them had to go through multiple rounds of ridiculously competitive auditions
that included massive amounts of music. As displayed by this performance by the
cellists of the Berlin Phil, we should be careful not to overlook the
individual talents of orchestral musicians.
While we commonly think of the Octet as the pinnacle of the chamber music repertoire, Mendelssohn (who
composed it at the ripe old age of 16) did not view it as a chamber
composition. In fact, he viewed it as a condensed symphony. This is reflected
in both the structure of the piece and the inscription that Mendelssohn placed
at the beginning of the manuscript: The
Octet must be played in the style of a symphony in all parts; the pianos and
fortes must be precisely differentiated and be more sharply accentuated than is
ordinarily done in pieces of this type. These words clearly place the Octet within a symphonic framework,
which is helpful when thinking about how to listen to it.
For instance, the structure of the Octet unfolds like a symphony. You will hear a brilliant first
movement allegro leading to a lush andante. The third movement, a scherzo, frolics
through chamber-music-like textures before the presto finale explodes into a
fully symphonic finale. You’ll also hear Mendelssohn utilizing the full range
of expressive qualities available to this combination of instruments, much like
a symphony might do. You can also sense Mendelssohn’s movement away from the
Classical traditions of his predecessors (Mozart, Haydn, etc.) an into the
Romantic style of his contemporaries. This can be heard in the dreamy,
enchanted quality in the second movement and the frenetic restlessness of the third
movement (of which he wrote that it “is to be played staccato and pianissimo…
the trills passing away with the quickness of lightning”).
Enjoy!
T
P.S. Check out the new Archives feature at the bottom of every page! It lists all of the past posts in a condensed and chronological order.
Our music for this week is the String Quintet in C for two violins, viola, and two cellos. It is often referred to as simply “The Cello Quintet,” and it is one of Schubert’s most memorable and important compositions. Those of you who are musicians will know that the music of Schubert is all about texture. Schubert was the master of creating an endless variety of textures through harmonic interaction and instrument choice. In the Cello Quintet, the added cello (most string ensembles have two violins, one viola, and only one cello) adds a layer of density and richness to the sound of the ensemble.
At the time he wrote this piece, Schubert was nearing the end of his life and was very aware of the kind of legacy that he wanted to leave behind. Many have speculated that he viewed himself as the successor to Beethoven, who died before he could finish his C major quintet. It is easy to see how, given his conception of his relationship to Beethoven and his knowledge of his nearing death, Schubert wrote the Cello Quintet in an effort to cement his legacy in a way that Beethoven never had.
The most famous and wonderful theme in the quintet can be heard at minute 2:54. As you might imagine, it is played by the cellos. It is the pinnacle of musical purity, a trait that is made clearer by its juxtaposition with dissonant harmonies both before and after it. In my mind, this melody is the height of musical expression, encapsulating both the searching and restful elements of humanity in one glorious, transcendent exploration of harmony.
One of the most influential people in my life is violin teacher Eva Gruesser. I studied with her from 2007 to 2012, and her instruction made it possible for me to achieve more than I ever imagined. During my time with her, she was the concertmaster of several orchestras around the world. However, she had previously spent 12 years as the first violinist of the world-renowned Lark Quartet. Her time with the Lark included first prizes at multiple international chamber music competitions, as well as regular performances all around the world.
I recently heard that the Lark Quartet will be disbanding at the end of this year. It appears that this decision is simply because a number of factors – job searching, family commitments, etc. – have made it clear that this is the best course of action for the instrumentalists. In honor of their legacy, I thought it would be fitting for us to hear Haydn’s “Lark” Quartet, as played by the Lark Quartet.
The “Lark” was a product of the peak of Haydn’s career in the 1790s. One of his wealthy benefactors had recently passed away and have left him a significant sum of money. He was therefore able to create his own orchestra and develop more time to composing. This quartet was written or for Joseph Tost, the principal second violinist in his new orchestra. Tost was apparently quite a creative and virtuosic musician, and Haydn wanted to replicate some of his energy and the vivacity in this quartet.
The first movement opens with the song of the lark itself. You will hear this song in the first violin part as the other instrumentalists accompany the theme. The second movement is simply an extension of the first, with the first violin carrying the lark’s song. Historians have suggested that’s Haydn disliked writing these slower movements and used a basic template for them in almost every one of his compositions so that he didn’t have to do as much work. The third movement (based on a German folk tune) is the typical Trio movement, and you will hear the cello and viola starting to take over more of the melodic material. The fourth and final movement, in true Haydn form, is a hornpipe that accentuates sharp rhythms and flying runs. (For you music nerds out there, listen for the switch to D minor for the fugal section in the middle, then up to A major – the dominant key – and back home to D major for the ending. All he is doing is running around the circle of fifths via the dominant and sub-dominant).
One of the distinctive features of Haydn quartets is the constant stream of witty surprises that jump out at the listener. For instance, you might expect the first movement, with its exposition of the lark’s song, to revolve around the first violin part. However, the first violin is constantly being held down by the depth and structure of the cello and viola parts, which provide grounding and an occasional retort. Another example is found in the ending of the first movement; rather than finish with a flourish like his contemporaries would have, Haydn lets the accompaniment instruments finish the piece and tags on the first violin’s lark song as an afterthought.
Our music for this week is the Souvenir de Florence by Tchaikovsky.
This string sextet was composed during a time in Tchaikovsky’s life that was devoid of inspiration. Historians have found journal entries from this time in his life that evoke despair and depression. In several of them, Tchaikovsky doubts his ability to compose at all. It is therefore surprising that this cheerful and upbeat composition is the result of such a time in Tchaikovsky’s life.
The composition is structurally very easy to understand. As a rule of thumb, every theme is presented by a single instrument family. In other words, the exposition of a theme will begin in the two violins, progress to the two violas, and end in the two cellos. Although these voices will of course be independent of each other at times, they always resolve in their original pairs.
We are very fortunate to have some of Tchaikovsky’s letters to his colleagues about the piece. We know from these letters that the first movement needs to be played with “great fire and passion.” Similarly, we know that he wanted the slow second movement to reflect a summer thunderstorm with muted lightning in the distance. Tchaikovsky also ventured into relatively uncharted territory by incorporating a fugue format into the third movement. This is a structural and stylistic marker that was much more common 200 years before Tchaikovsky’s time. However, he bravely builds the entire third movement around a fugal system in which the pairs of instruments continuously add and subtract identical thematic material above and beneath each other.
Our music for this week is the String Quartet No. 1 in D Major by Tchaikovsky, performed by the Borodin Quartet.
The Borodin Quartet was a product of the very influential Russian School of music. It was originally led by the renowned violinist Mikael Kopelman, who is now a professor at Eastman Conservatory. Although most of the original members are no longer part of the quartet, the group’s legacy is continued through the efforts of a younger generation of Russian musicians.
This quartet is the first of three quartets that Tchaikovsky wrote. It is by far the most popular work of chamber music by Tchaikovsky, due in large part to the unforgettable second movement. Tchaikovsky based the melody of this movement on a folk song that he heard while visiting his sister in the Russian countryside. It is said that Leo Tolstoy, upon first hearing this melody, immediately burst into tears. At its first performance, the quartet was warmly received by the public and became an immediate favorite of that era’s Russian nobility.
In the first movement, listen for the very rich and dense melody that the violins introduce in the first few bars. In the second movement, listen not only for the famous first melody but also the secondary melody that you will hear in the cello and first violin’s conversation later on in the piece. In the third movement, listen for the dance theme that is introduced in the Trio section about halfway through the movement. Finally, in the fourth movement, listen for a re-exploration of two themes from earlier in the quartet. Tchaikovsky places both themes in new and different tonalities, forcing the listener to hear these familiar melodies in a new light.
Our music for this week is the Sextet in B-flat major by Johannes Brahms.
There are very few string sextets in existence. Schubert and Bocherinni are two of the composers who have written sextets, but Brahms’ B-flat sextet is considered the leading work in this relatively niche field. Many musicians consider this to be rather ironic since, as a pianist, Brahms struggled tremendously when writing for stringed instruments. His genius at the keyboard somehow didn’t entirely translate over to his compositions for strings despite his close friendship with the legendary violinist Joseph Joachim. Nonetheless, he wanted to compose a string sextet in honor of his dear friend Robert Schumann and, in particular, he wanted to explore the strengths of the deeper stringed instruments – the viola and the cello. It is therefore no surprise that the opening melody of the piece is played by the cello and the opening melody of the second movement’s variations scheme is introduced by the viola.
The sextet has four movements: Allegro, Andante, Scherzo, and Rondo. Listen for themes that get repeated throughout the work. For instance, you’ll hear the main melody of the first movement being recycled in the fourth movement at different points. You might also listen for the portions of this theme that Brahms sprinkles throughout all four movements. You will never hear the theme in its entirety, but you may – if you listen closely – have a deja vu moment once in a while.
This Week's Music 