Program Notes
Overture in the Italian Style in C Major, D. 590 Franz Peter Schubert (1797 – 1828)
The all too short life of Franz Schubert was as closely bound up with Vienna as his continuous residence in a small and crowded sector of his native city. Born in the district of Himmelpfortgrund, he lived in the environs of Vienna all his life and knew some rather small success and great disappointment at the hands of its musical circles. It seemed his fate to be overshadowed by other composers; primarily Beethoven and Rossini. Indeed, Beethoven cast such an adumbrating shadow over most composers that his unintentional effect on Schubert was not exceptional. Indeed, as much as he took notice of another composer, the master seemed to have some regard for Schubert’s talents. With Rossini, things were different. Vienna periodically experienced furors for foreign composers that affected even Beethoven and which he resented greatly. By 1817, he was secure enough to only grumble, but for Schubert, the mania for Rossini’s music was having a depressing effect on his own recognition.
The young composer was not unimpressed by Rossini’s music and in November 1817, wrote two overtures “im italienischen Stile.”(in the Italian style). They show a distinct intent to imitate, even to parody the well-known style of the Italian master. There is a sunny tunefulness about the works that shows a Rossinian taste, although still expressed in Schubert’s own terms. Also present is the long drawn out crescendo from a piano to a forte dynamic (in fact, two of them) that earned Rossini the nickname of “Il signor crescendo” Mister Crescendo). It is possible that Schubert was, in effect, saying, “look here, I can do this just as well as Herr Rossini .” And, the parody may not have been intended as any sort of homage, but a good-natured protest.
Like most of his instrumental output, both this overture and its companion in D Major, both composed in November 1817, did not receive their first performance until long after the composer’s untimely death: in the year 1865. His wealth of talent, his genial nature and genuine modesty could not overcome the allure of Beethoven and other, visiting composers. Like a prophet not honored in his own land, his native city seemed to mostly ignore or patronize him and when, after Beethoven’s death in 1826 the giant, overshadowing tree was felled, fate decreed that Schubert would outlive him by less than two years. Such is the rather sad story of Schubert’s life.
Burleska for Piano and Orchestra Richard Straus (1864 – 1949)
English writer Ernest Hutcheson reported that he heard Richard Strauß play his Piano Sonata in E-flat during the composer’s early days in Weimar and marveled why “so well equipped a pianist did not give more of his talent to the instrument.” Only a few pianists and collectors of Straussian arcane know that sonata. By far his most important composition is the Burleska for piano and orchestra, composed in his twenty-first year and when he was still heavily under the influence of Johannes Brahms. In the year of its composition, Strauß was working as the assistant to famed pianist/conductor Hans von Bülow with the Meiningen Court Orchestra. The young composer showed the redoubtable pianist and Brahms acolyte his new work. The judgment by von Bülow was “It is unplayable.” Strauß decided his superior was correct and stuffed the manuscript in a trunk with a note on it: “Sheer nonsense.”
But the composition would not die and four years later, he pulled it out and gave it a try in a concert in Eisenach, with Eugene d’Albert as soloist. A publisher heard the performance and offered to take on the work. Still doubtful, the composer hesitated since he had gone in a different direction since writing the Burleska. “I really need the money. What shall I do? It does against me to permit publication of a work which I have left far behind, and to which I cannot give approval.” It took another four years before Strauß would relent – perhaps having a better perspective on his earlier work. Oftentimes, composers – and, indeed, all creative artists – will change direction in their work and find difficulty in realizing the merit of creations from an earlier period. So it was with Strauß.
Burleska is one of only two large-scale solo works that I can think of that start with a timpani solo (the other being Beethoven’s Violin Concerto). There are likely others, but it is a rare touch. Four drums are required and the timpanist gets first shot at some significant thematic material throughout. Filled with a mischievous humor and brilliant orchestration, the piece, in spite of its title, also has many passages of great lyric beauty. Indeed, one can hear both premonitions of Till Eulenspiegel and Rosenkavalier in this youthful work. Some have detected a derivation of the first piano notes from Brahms’ D Minor Ballade: is it homage from an admirer, or a ghostly apparition called forth by the sardonic young composer. Who knows? Whatever the origins, the work is a substantial masterpiece that deserves more frequent performance.
The Planets Gustav Holst (1874 – 1934)
One of the two or three most performed works by an English composer, The Planets held an odd place in its creator’s affections (and, indeed, in those of his daughter). Both were disturbed that it unfairly overshadowed his other compositions. Holst did not number it among his best works and, late in life, complained that its fame had completely eclipsed his other music. So, what to make of this highly original and famous composition? It may be that both composer and his composer/conductor daughter, Imogen, are right.
Introduced to astrology in 1913 by Clifford Bax, Holst became fascinated by the subject. When he commenced writing the work in 1914, his intent was to convey ideas and emotions associated with planetary influence on the psyche. From Alan Leo’s book What is a Horoscope, he derived the subtitles for each movement. Since Earth has no astrological significance, it was omitted from the composition. Holst’s fascination with astrology mirrored his deep interest in Hindu mysticism and the esoteric – traits that seem so fully reflected in the vast range of orchestral textures and colors, as well as the often “exotic” harmonies and melodic progressions that occur throughout the composition.
Originally written for a piano duet (with Neptune” scored for organ). Holst then scored Planets for a very large orchestra and treble chorus. Indeed, the size and complexity of the instrumentation rivaled that of Stravinsky’s large ballet scores. In addition to the usual orchestral string section, quadruple woodwinds are required – four flutes (two doubling on piccolo and alto flute); four oboes (one doubling English Horn and one Bass Oboe); three bassoons and contrabassoon. The large brass section requires six horns, four trumpets, three trombones, tenor tuba and bass tuba. The percussion battery calls for two timpanists (who combine to play some rather complex melodic passages), snare drum, bass drum, tam-tam, chimes, xylophone, triangle, bells and cymbals. Also required are two harps, celeste and a women’s choir.
The first performance, September 29, 1918, was a private affair in Queen’s Hall, led by Sir Adrian Boult. A few weeks later, five of the seven movements were given their public premiere and received with tremendous enthusiasm. The first complete performance occurred on October 10, 1920. Since then, it has become a staple of orchestral repertoire, demanding though it may be on the resources of many ensembles. And since its debut, it has come to be more closely identified with the actual planetary bodies and less with the astrological implications intended by Holst. Except for the exchange of Mars and Mercury, the order of movements represents the increasing distance of each planet from the sun. So, the order is Mars – “The Bringer of War”, Venus – “The Bringer of Peace”, Mercury – “the Winged Messenger”, Jupiter – The Bringer of Jollity”, Saturn – The Bringer of Old Age”, Uranus – “The Magician” and Neptune – The Mystic.” The exchange of Mars and Mercury also enabled the composer to cast the first four movements in the form of a “symphony.” Quite unique is the “fade out” ending of Neptune. Holst stipulated that the women’s chorus be placed in an adjoining room with an open door to the stage. At the end, the singers repeat a two chord sequence over and over as the door is gradually closed, giving one to wonder where sound stops and silence begins. Had the composer had the benefit of our knowledge of space, I don’t think he could have created a more apt and effective ending for this unique work.
Our performance will be enhanced by visual images and effects assembled and created by orchestra member Roger Evans. The visual presentation will contain both astrological/mythological and astronomical images, many collected from NASA sources and truly stunning in their scope and majesty.
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