MSO program notes

Madison Symphony Orchestra Program Notes
April 15-16-17, 2011
85th Season / Subscription Concert No. 7
Michael Allsen

This April program opens with the Madison Symphony Chorus singing one of Stravinsky’s most solemn and profound sacred works, the Symphony of Psalms. Madison-based pianist Christopher Taylor last appeared with the orchestra in 2007, as soloist in Gershwin’s Concerto in F. Here he is featured in a much more Romantic work, Schumann’s Piano Concerto. After intermission the strings perform one of the most serene and moving pieces written for the string orchestra, Vaughan Williams’s Fantasia on a Theme of Thomas Tallis. And if we began the concert in Heaven, we end it in the Other Place—Tchaikovsky’s Francesca da Rimini is a stormy telling of Dante’s encounter with a doomed pair of lovers in his Inferno.

Stravinsky’s Symphony of Psalms was composed between January and August of 1930. Enest Ansermet conducted the first performance in Brussels, on December 13, 1930. Our only previous performance at these concerts was in 1981. Duration 25:00.

In 1930, Stravinsky was in Europe when Serge Koussevitsky, conductor of the Boston Symphony Orchestra offered a commission for a new work, to celebrate the orchestra’s fiftieth anniversary. According to Stravinsky: “The idea of composing a symphonic work of considerable scope had occupied me for a long time. I therefore willingly accepted a proposition which coincided entirely with my inclinations. I was given full liberty in the form of the piece as well as the I might require for its performance.” The result, the Symphony of Psalms, also seems to have coincided with Stravinsky’s religious inclinations—after many years of a thoroughly secular existence, he had formally re-entered the Russian Orthodox church in 1926. The score when it was completed included the dedication “This Symphony, composed to the glory of GOD, is dedicated to the Boston Symphony Orchestra on the occasion of the fiftieth anniversary of its existence.” As it turned out the premiere was given in Brussels, with Koussevitsky’s performance in Boston taking place six days later.

The Symphony of Psalms is not a symphony in the traditional sense of the word—according to Stravinsky, “...it is not a symphony on which I have included Psalms to be sung. On the contrary, it is the singing of the Psalms that I am symphonizing.” Its three movement are to be played without pauses. In keeping with the liturgical character of the work, he specified that the parts were to be sung by an all-male chorus, with boys on the alto and soprano parts—though he also allowed for mixed chorus of women and men. His orchestration also lends the work a solemn character, omitting violins, violas, and clarinets, and focusing in general on the darker colors of the orchestra. He creates an almost ritualistic sound by referring to the modes of Gregorian and Orthodox chant, and in his sometimes stark counterpoint.

The first movement, subtitled Prelude, sets supplicating lines from Psalm 38. Among crisp punctuating chords, the orchestra sets up an almost mechanical set of ostinatos. When they enter the choir at first floats obove this background placidly, reaching a more passionate statement on the words ne sileas (“do not be deaf”). The movement continues at a higher leven of intensity in the second half, closing—surprisingly—with a grand G Major chord.

The second movement is a severe double fugue. The unhurried exposition of the first subject is given to the woodwinds. The voices enter with a new subject as the orchestra continues development of the original theme. At et statuit super petram pedes meos (“and set my feet upon the rock”) the mood changes to one of hushed expectancy as the orchestra suddenly drops away. After a dour orchestral interlude, there is a forceful statement of the last concluding lines, culminating with quietly hopeful et sperabunt in Domino (“and shall put their trust in the Lord”).

Stravinsky described the complex last movement as an Allegro symphonique. It sets the most musical of the Psalms, No.150. He prefaces this with a shimmering Alleluia that continues the mood of the previous movement. The movement gradually picks up intensity, until a furious orchestral interlude that prefaces a more forceful Laudate Eum in virtutibus Eius (“Praise Him in His noble acts”). There is a brief return of the Alleluia—almost as if for a sort pause for breath, before chorus and orchestra launch into even more frantic music, overlaid by a ferocious horn theme. Stravinsky later described the inspiration for this passage as “a vision of Elijah’s chariot climbing the heavens.” The Psalm’s concluding line Laudate Eum, omnis spiritus (Praise Him, all the has breath”) is set in a mood of ethereal calm, concluding with a final Alleluia and a subdued statement of Laudate Dominum.

Schumann’s Piano Concerto was completed in 1845, and premiered on December 5, 1845, in Dresden. The soloist for this performance was Clara Schumann, and it was conducted by Ferdinand Hiller, to whom the score is dedicated. Previous Madison Symphony Orchestra performances have featured Rudolf Firkusny (1975) and John Kimura Parker (1999) Duration 31:00.

Though he was a composer who was absolutely in love with the piano, and a man married to one of the towering virtuosos of the age, Schumann was notoriously unsuccessful at producing piano concertos. There are at least three early concertos, which were sketched when he was in his twenties, but left incomplete. There are also a couple of fine single-movement works for piano and orchestra from late in his career, the Concertstück (1850) and the Introduction and Allegro (1853). There is only one complete concerto, however, the A minor concerto of 1845.

Sketches for the A minor concerto date from as early as 1833, but the impetus for completing the work seems to have been Schumann’s marriage to Clara Wieck at the end of 1840. Their relationship had begun when Clara was only a teenager, and the wedding was delayed for years by her father. Clara was just beginning a career as a piano soloist, and Robert had long planned to write a concerto for her. In 1838, he wrote to her from Vienna about this work: “My concerto is a compromise between a symphony, a concerto, and a huge sonata. I now see that cannot write a concerto for the virtuosos—I must plan something else.” That “something else” was a single-movement work titled Phantasie that was a departure from the flashy but empty virtuoso pieces that were the mainstay of 19th century pianists—a gentle and thoroughly Romantic piece that focuses on thematic development rather than showy fireworks. He completed this work in 1841, and Clara played it during a rehearsal of Robert’s “Spring” Symphony on August 13. He was unable to publish the piece, however, and eventually used the Phantasie as the first movement of a three-movement concerto. He completed the Intermezzo and the Finale in the summer of 1845—on July 31, Clara wrote in her diary: “Robert has finished his concerto, and handed it over to the copyist. I am happy as a king at the thought of playing it with an orchestra.” The new concerto was very successful, and was quickly repeated in Leipzig and Vienna. The concerto became the cornerstone of Clara’s solo repertoire, and was popularized by her many performances.

The opening movement (Allegro affetuoso) begins with a furious burst of piano chords, but soon settles into a more gentle character, with a oboe theme that is soon picked up by the soloist. The movement is set in sonata form, but nearly all of the important thematic material is derived from this opening theme. Piano dominates, but there are several nice bits of orchestration as the soloist plays against solo woodwind passages. The end of the movement features the soloist in a finely-crafted cadenza, and a shift to march character.

The lovely Intermezzo (Andantino grazioso) is a Romantic song, set in an three-part form. The playful opening motive—four notes passed between piano and orchestra—is subtly crafted from the first movement’s main melody. The central passage, carried by the low strings, is more lyrical and sustained. After a short development, and a return of the opening material, Schumann brings back a fragment of the first-movement theme to lead directly into the final movement (Allegro vivace), whose main melody is based upon the same material. This movement is also set in sonata form, but where the opening movement focussed intensely upon a single melodic idea, here the composer seems to have given his imagination free reign, as a whole series of distinct melodies spring forth in the exposition. The development begins with a wonderful string fugato, which is soon overlaid by yet another new theme. The movement comes to close with a lengthy coda—not a crashing conclusion, as is so often the case in Romantic concertos, but a calm and continued development that is brilliant while retaining a light touch to the end.

This work was composed in 1910, for that year's Gloucester Festival. It was last performed at these concerts in 1973. Duration 15:00.

Vaughan Williams was an avid musical antiquarian, and he was particularly fascinated with the English sacred music of the Renaissance. In 1904, he was engaged to oversee a new edition of The English Hymnal—a thorough revision of the Church of England's primary service book. He set to work over the next two years, purging the Hymnal of some of the ghastlier Victorian hymns, and replacing much of it with his own newly-composed hymns and service music, and the music of older English composers. Among his discoveries was a series of melodies written by Thomas Tallis (1505-1585) for the English Psalter of 1567. Vaughan Williams resurrected two of these for the Hymnal,: one, the tune now universally known as the “Tallis canon” and the other a Phrygian-mode melody he used to set the text When, rising from the bed of death. A few years later, he was commissioned to write an orchestral piece for the Gloucester Festival, and returned to the simple Phrygian tune as the basis for the Fantasia on a Theme of Thomas Tallis. The tune itself and the tonality are from the Renaissance, but Vaughan Williams also turned to a musical form that was fundamental to 16th-century English instrumental music, the Fantasia. Composers of Tallis's generation and later produced hundreds of these pieces: contrapuntal works, usually for a consort of viols, based on a pre-existing tune. Vaughan Williams also used a self-consciously ancient scoring, setting the Fantasia for double string orchestra and solo string quartet, referring to the antiphonal texture that is so much a part of late Renaissance music.

The result is one of the most subtle and moving pieces ever written for strings. Vaughan Williams was something of a late bloomer as a composer, and this piece, written when he was 38, was in fact one of the works that secured his international reputation. The piece presents the tune in fragments—it is first heard quietly, pizzicato in the cellos and basses, but is then developed by all of the melodic lines in turn. At the center, there is an extended episode for the solo quartet, that spins out increasing agitated variations. The piece as a whole is a kind of emotional arch moving towards an impassioned climax near the end and finally fading away, pppp.

Tchaikovsky composed this work in October and November of 1876. The premiere, led by Nikolai Rubinstein, was in Moscow on March 9, 1877. The Madison Symphony Orchestra’s only previous performance of the work was in 1988. Duration: 23:00.

In The Inferno—the best-known section of his Divine Comedy—Dante tours Hell under the guidance of the poet Virgil. Like a good Humanist, Dante peoples Hell with figures from Classical mythology, but he also sprinkled it liberally with Italians of his own day: partly a bitter satire of the Florence that had exiled him, but also figures from the great news events of the day. As Dante travels through the second circle of Hell—reserved for the Lustful—he encounters Francesca da Rimini and her lover Paolo Malatesta: two souls that are damned to be blown together in a tempest for all eternity. This was based on a tabloid scandal of 1285, well-known throughout Italy. In a political alliance, Francesca had been married to Gianciotto Malatesta of Rimini, but the marriage was a deception: the wedding was performed by proxy by his brother Paolo. Francesca discovered only afterwards that she had married not the handsome Paolo, but his deformed brother, the Malatesta heir. Years later, Francesca and Paolo were reading the romance of Lancelot and Guinevere together, and were inspired to do a little adultery of their own. Giancotto discovered them, and murdered both in a jealous rage. This story became a favorite of the Romantics: inspiring dozens of paintings, poems and plays, several orchestral works and at least a dozen operas.

We don’t know when Tchaikovsky first encountered this tale of ill-fated lovers, but he wrote several times admiring Gustav Doré’s illustration of the story, and briefly considered it as the subject of an opera in late 1875. He abandoned this project, but six months later, as he was travelling through Europe, his brother Modeste wrote to him suggesting several subjects for symphonic poems, including the story from Dante. Writing back to Modeste in the summer of 1876, Tchaikovsky wrote: “This evening in my coach I read the [fifth] Canto of the Inferno, and was inflamed with a desire to write a symphonic poem on Francesca.” He returned home in the fall, and composed the work at what he described as a “feverish” pace in the course of three weeks. By late October, he reported to Modeste: “I have only just finished my new work: a fantasia on Francesca da Rimini. I wrote it with love and love has turned out pretty well, I think. As to the whirlwind, I could have written something more like Doré's picture, but that wasn’t really how I wanted it to turn out. Anyway, a proper judgment is out of the question until it has been orchestrated and performed.” He did finish the orchestration in the next three weeks, and “proper judgment” of the premiere a few months later was enthusiastically positive. Tchaikovsky seems to have had a special fondness for Francesca da Rimini, programming it at several concerts, and frequently playing a two-piano version at musical salons.

Tchaikovsky prefaced the score with a long quote from Dante: Francesca’s telling of her sad story. The work itself is divided into three large sections, each with a descriptive title—the first is headed Introduction: The Gateway to the Inferno (“Abandon all hope, all ye who enter here”); Tortures and Agonies of the Condemned. There’s little doubt from the opening bars that this is a tragedy: strident chords and shifting harmonies portray the descent into Hell. The music shows the influence of Liszt, but also of Wagner—a composer Tchaikovsky claimed to detest. He had attended the first complete performance of Wagner’s Ring Cycle as a correspondent for a Russian newspaper in the summer of 1876 and wrote nothing but snarky criticism. But he himself later acknowledged to Sergey Taneyev, to whom he dedicated Francesca, that he had drawn upon the Ring as inspiration for this passage. After the descent, Tchaikovsky gradually builds into furious storm that is the perfect musical picture of Dante’s second circle. This storm eventually subsides, into a long, more lyrical section titled Francesca Tells the Story of her Tragic Love for Paolo. A luminous clarinet solo introduces this section, dominated by a pair Tchaikovsky’s finest love-themes, laid out by the strings and series of woodwind solos. Nothing good lasts for long in Hell, however, and as the music reaches the peak of passion, sudden horn calls summon Francesca and Paolo back to the tempest. The final section, The Turmoil of Hades; Conclusion, is an even more terrifying reprise of the opening storm. The crashing dissonances at the end leave little hope for the Damned.