In the span of just over three years, W.A. Mozart, along with his father Leopold, toured Italian cities three times. The first in 1770, shortly before his fourteenth birthday, and the last, two years later, returning finally to Salzburg in March 1773, when he had just turned seventeen. In all the cities he was highly honored, in all of them he stunned the audience, in all of them he was commissioned for compositions that he fully completed, but neither in Milan, nor in Rome, nor in Naples nor in Bologna was achieved the goal Leopold intended: get a job for his son, in a renowned court.
On the second tour, Wolfgang had to appear in Milan with a serenade to celebrate the wedding of Archduke Ferdinand, the Governor and Captain-General of Lombardy. "This child will make us all forget" commented a court musician after hearing Mozart's music. This did not prevent Ferdinand from delaying the matter after hearing Leopold's request. The same thing happened on the third tour, scheduled to fulfill the Milanese commission for an opera. This time Leopold went to the Grand Duke of Tuscany, with similar results: "We will consider your proposal," he was told.
But it is Leopold who suffers from all this. It is not the case for the indefatigable Wolfgang, who works tirelessly during these three years to fulfill the countless commissions and, of course, for his own satisfaction. He corresponds extensively with his mother and his sister Nannerl.
A gift for Nannerl We believe that Nannerl recalled the pleasant evenings they enjoyed together in Salzburg, playing the harpsichord with four hands. These memories fill her beloved brother with anxiety and will lead him to take a break from the tournées and commitments to sit down to compose, sometime in 1772, a gift for Nannerl and for himself: the Sonata in D major for keyboard four-hands. Wolfgang Amadeus is sixteen years old.
The rendition is by the sisters Anastasia and Liubov Gromoglasova. Recital of the year 2012 in one of the halls of the Moscow Conservatory.
Sonata in D Major for keyboard four-hands, KV 381 Compared to the volume of the rest of his piano writing, the sonatas for piano four hands constitute a very small group in Mozartian output: only five sonatas plus an incomplete one, written between 1765 and 1787. The sonata in D major is the third in chronological order and was not published until 1783.
As it is obvious – considering the composer's youth and the period –, the work is structured in the traditional manner of a classical sonata: fast - slow - fast movements.
Allegro At 00:35 (and then at 1:23): they are barely eight notes but it is impossible not to relate them to the famous Duettino sull' aria from The Marriage of Figaro. (They will have waited fourteen years).
Andante 3:35 Some opinions on Youtube claim that it should be played slower, but I think the girls do the right thing: the movement is andante and not adagio.
Allegro molto 9:14 In tune with the opinion of the scholar Alfred Einstein (not to be confused with Albert, who had another profession) – who saw in this sonata an "Italian symphony" reduced to the piano –, the movement contemplates tutti passages (the whole "orchestra": both pianists) and soli (one or the other of the soloists).
The famous musical triptych Gaspard de la Nuit, whose original and complete title is Gaspard de la Nuit: Trois Poèmes pour Piano d'après Aloysius Bertrand, is a work for solo piano composed by Maurice Ravel in 1908. It is inspired by a collection of prose poems published in 1842 – one year after the death of its author, the French romantic poet Aloysius Bertrand –, a work in which the poet pours a very personal, magical and phantasmagoric impression of the Middle Ages.
Gaspard, the treasurer of the night
The name "Gaspard", derived from its original Persian form, denotes the keeper of the royal treasure. So, in a very free translation of the title of the piece and the collection of poems, it could be translated into English as "the man in charge of the treasures of the night", which is not so far from the opinion of the contemporary German musicologist and pianist Siglind Brum, for whom "Gaspard de la Nuit" alludes to the keeper of the precious, the obscure and the mysterious.
Ondine, by Arthur Rackman, 1909.
Ondine, Le Gibet, Scarbo
Three of Bertrand's six poems were translated into music by Ravel to form this sort of "sonata" in three movements, which he named after the poems chosen: Ondine, Le Gibet and Scarbo, the names of three characters from this 19th-century work of fantastic literature, if we agree that "the gallows" (le gibet) is also one of them.
The last movement, Scarbo, is the one that has made this piece famous because of its enormous technical demands. It appears that Ravel achieved his purpose: to write a more difficult work than Balakirev's Islamey, also famous for its difficulty.
The rendition, outstanding, is by the French pianist Helene Tysman.
The three movements, with commentary, follow the video.
Ondine. It is the most colorful and sensual movement. In the poem, Ondine is a mermaid who sings to a man, to whom she describes her fantastic world trying to seduce him. But the man is married, and to a "mortal". When he tells Ondine this, the mermaid cries and laughs, then disappears as quickly as she appeared. On the piano, the performer must create an atmosphere that is both soft and bright, with subtle differences in the "touch" for water that ripples, rushes, shimmers or leaps.
Le Gibet (7:29) A picture of desolation and misery. The solitary corpse of a man hanging from a gallows (le gibet) stands out on the horizon. The sound of bells coming from within the walls of a distant city creates a sepulchral atmosphere of hopeless resignation. The movement is made up of three relentlessly repeated motifs: a B flat in ostinato (the bells), a melodic chord progression, and a second cantabile melody. "You don't have to be afraid that it sounds monotonous," said one pianist; in fact, monotony is an integral part of the movement.
Scarbo (13:08) The narrator describes his fear of Scarbo, an evil goblin who comes in the middle of the night, sometimes to dance but sometimes he hides and only makes noises, only to reappear suddenly. In the end, when the madness becomes unbearable, Scarbo disappears. With its repeated notes and two terrifying climaxes, this is the highest point in technical difficulty of the three movements. Difficulties include repeated notes in both hands and double-note scales of major seconds in the right hand. The movement ends without fuss, like a disappearing gnome.
Perhaps one of the most difficult pieces written for piano, Islamey - Oriental Fantasy is a short work composed in 1869 by the Russian pianist and composer Mili Balakirev, leader of the famous group known as The Mighty Five, which emerged in Russia in the mid-19th century to form the Russian chapter of the nationalist movements that began to prevail in European music.
Balakirev, the guiding light Although in terms of the projection of his music he was widely surpassed by almost all the other members (Musorgsky, Borodin, Rimski-Korsakov, with the exception of Cesar Cui, the theoretician), Mili Balakirev played in the group the role of the one who imposed the aesthetic and nationalistic guidelines, to the point that, in the beginning, his colleagues submitted their works to the supervision of the intuitive master, whose first academic steps he had taken in the branch of science.
Balakirev - Rimsky Kórsakov Cui - Musorgsky - Borodin
Islamey, the idea In 1862, a young Balakirev, 25 years old, undertook a long journey through the Caucasus and Crimean regions carrying out an exemplary collection of folk music. It was there where the idea for the composition of the exuberant and perfectly finished Islamey arose, which was originally intended to be part of a symphonic poem – Tamara – on which he was working at that time:
"...the majestic beauty of luxuriant nature there and the beauty of the inhabitants that harmonises with it – all these things together made a deep impression on me... Since I interested myself in the vocal music there, I made the acquaintance of a Circassian prince, who frequently came to me and played folk tunes on his instrument, that was something like a violin. One of them, called Islamey, a dance-tune, pleased me extraordinarily and with a view to the work I had in mind on Tamara I began to arrange it for the piano. The second theme was communicated to me in Moscow by an Armenian actor, who came from the Crimea and is, as he assured me, well known among the Crimean Tatars. (Letter to Eduard Reiss, 1892).
Legendary for its enormous technical difficulties, Islamey is a piece that can be tackled successfully by only a few of the great virtuosos. So much so that Maurice Ravel once remarked that his demanding piece Gaspard de la Nuit was composed for, among other purposes, trying to write something more difficult than Islamey. And Balakirev himself went so far as to confess that there were some fragments of the piece "that I have not been able to get to grips with". Despite everything, Balakirev composed the piece in the course of one month, in 1869.
The work As already mentioned, it is based on two folkloric themes. The first is a fast, energetic dance with fast repeated notes – the one picked up on his trip to the Caucasus – which governs the entire first section of the piece – and part of the third. A middle section, at 2:01, introduces a romantic melody – the Crimean theme – which at 3:30 will acquire greater vivacity to take up again at 4:08 the initial theme, which then transformed into a frenetic dance will advance towards the closing in a dramatic fashion after a sort of coda at 5:47.
The rendition is by the outstanding Russian pianist Boris Berezovsky, who is also a jazz pianist, and by the way, only needs one hand, the left one, to play Chopin's Revolutionary Etude.
Two years before his death, Chopin was in Paris, alone. But Paris was on fire. There was only one year left for the "bourgeois king" Louis Philippe to flee to England after the popular uprising in February 1848. But already in June 1847, as a result of the rise in the price of bread, in an Alsacian city there were serious clashes of workers, peasants and the petty bourgeoisie against the troops, which would be strongly repressed with a balance of several deaths. Between August 31 and September 7, it was Paris's turn: a week of barricades and clashes on rue Saint-Honoré marked the soon end of the "July Monarchy", installed in 1830.
George Sand. The farewell A few blocks away, Chopin, who is not precisely a revolutionary and lives only for his music, tries to work at his residence at 9 Place d'Orléans. This summer there is no getaway to Nohant because a month ago he received the last letter from George Sand, who from his rest estate writes him saying goodbye forever with these words:
"Farewell, my friend, be cured soon of all ailments and I will thank God for this strange denouement of nine years of exclusive friendship. Let me hear from you sometime."
So, coldly, the summers free of financial worries and the peaceful afternoons composing in the countryside are over. Therefore, he has to double the number of lessons, get more pupils. But he coughs a lot and has a fever, so everything becomes a little more difficult. In spite of everything, he has the strength to finish three simple waltzes that will make up opus 64.
At the home of friends
That convulsed Parisian summer, Chopin takes refuge at times in the house of some friends and, in opposition to the historical reality that surrounds him, he will compose an elegant and aristocratic waltz, as well as perfect: the today popular Waltz in C sharp minor, which will be dedicated to Mrs Rothschild, in whose house he escaped from loneliness for some days.
Waltz opus 64 N° 2, in C sharp minor
A sort of refrain (0:43) accompanies the main theme which, repeated four times, is broken by an interlude as a third theme, calmer and more lyrical, at 1:13. The piece concludes cleanly with the refrain, without the slightest stridency, as if it were fading away.
The rendition, flawless, is by the extraordinary Chinese pianist Yuja Wang, when she was twenty-five-year-old.
Ludwig van Beethoven's Fifth and Sixth Symphonies were premiered together on December 22, 1808, at the recently opened Theater an der Wien, in Vienna, the city occupied by Napoleonic troops, between pacts and ruptures, since 1805. The performance – only with works of his own and for his benefit – it had been organized by Beethoven himself in order to ensure a positive balance for that year. Shortly after his fortieth birthday and beset by the progressing deafness, Beethoven conducted all the works and also played the piano.
The program The extremely long concert lasted just over four hours and began with the Sixth Symphony heard for the first time, followed by the aria, Ah, perfido. Then came the Gloria from the Mass in C major, closing this first part with Concerto No. 4 for piano and orchestra, with Beethoven at the piano. The second part opened with the premiere of the Fifth Symphony, then came the Sanctus and Benedictus from the aforementioned mass. Next, Ludwig performed an improvisation for solo piano and, finally, the Fantasia for piano, choir and orchestra was heard.
This monumental program, very poorly executed by an orchestra that had only one rehearsal, had to be listened to in an icy auditorium, which ended up annoying the audience.
A witness to the concert Johann Friedrich Reichardt, also a composer, has left us his impressions of that evening, which he attended at the invitation of Prince von Lobkowitz, Beethoven's patron:
"There we sat, in the most bitter cold, from half-past six until half-past ten, and confirmed for ourselves the maxim that one may easily have too much of a good thing, still more of a powerful one. Neither I nor the good-natured prince... could leave the hall until the concert was over, although some of the really wretched performances pushed us to the edge of our patience. ...The singers and orchestra had been assembled almost at random, and some of the pieces (all bristling with difficulties) had not even had a rehearsal by that mob. ...First came a pastoral symphony, or reminiscence of country life.... Each movement was a long, perfectly constructed piece, full of vivid description and brilliant ideas; the only trouble is that this pastoral symphony was longer than the time we could afford for a full concert..... There followed an extended Italian Scena [the aria Ah, perfidious one] sung by Mademoiselle Killitzi, the lovely-voiced young Bohemian. With the terrible cold in the hall, one cannot blame this beautiful girl for the fact that on such an occasion her voice trembled more than she sang; we, in our box, were also shivering, sheathed in scarves and coats, prisoners of the unbearable cold... Next came a Gloria for soloists and choir, which was very badly sung, to our disgrace. Then a piano concerto, new and tremendously difficult [it had been privately premiered at Lobkowitz's house a year earlier], which Beethoven played impressively at great speed..."
Abstract from J.F. Reichardt. Personal Letters Written on a Trip to Vienna
Theater an der Wien, at early 19th century
Symphony No. 6, in F major, opus 68 The Sixth Symphony, called "Pastoral" by Beethoven himself, is one of his few "programmatic" or "descriptive" works, and is, historically speaking, halfway between Vivaldi's brilliant Four Seasons and the later symphonic poems of Liszt and, later, Richard Strauss. However, the composer pointed out that rather than describing naturalistic pictures or mere imitation of sounds of nature, with this work he intended nothing more than to evoke feelings: there is "more emotion than description" in it, he said, and it is perhaps for this reason that he subtitled the first movement as we point bellow.
The work, quite extensive, lasts approximately forty minutes. The rendition is by the West-Eastern Divan Orchestra, on the occasion of the complete cycle of Beethoven's Symphonies conducted by Daniel Barenboim during the summer of 2012 at the Royal Albert Hall, London.
Movements
The symphony is in five movements, although from the third movement onwards they lead straight into the next. Along with the obligatory tempo indication, Beethoven added a "description" for each of them, which, however, he warned, should not be taken literally:
00Allegro ma non troppo "Awakening of cheerful feelings on arrival in the countryside".
10:53Andante molto mosso "Scene by the brook" (the only overtly descriptive moment in the work: at 21:27 the nightingale, cuckoo and quail sing, represented respectively by the flute, clarinet and oboe, as Beethoven noted in the same score).
22:43Allegro "Merry gathering of country folk". At the end, after resuming the initial theme, after a "presto" passage, it comes the allegro, the storm, in:
28:33Allegro "Thunder. Storm." Here, too, the finale links directly to the allegretto, at:
32:30Allegretto "Shepherd's song. Cheerful and thankful feelings after the storm", The work ends when, after a suggestive passage that resembles a prayer, marked "pianissimo, sotto voce" (40:36) and after a few brief resplendent measures (41:01), it resolves with restrained verve into two chords in F major.
Just over a hundred years ago, on May 29, 1913, was premiered a classical music work that for the first time unleashed in the audience little less than a pitched battle between admirers and detractors. Among the attendants were artists and composers. Maurice Ravel found it great and the playwright and future filmmaker Jean Cocteau reacted in the same way, but the old Countess of Pourtales, according to a witness, broke her fan while exclaiming, blind with rage: "This is the first time I´ve been made fun of". Forty people were evicted from the newly opened Théâtre des Champs-Elysées, presumably after calling the police.
It all was dealing with a new, aggressive and revolutionary work: the ballet The Sacre du Printemps, with music by Igor Stravinsky and choreography by the Polish-born Russian dancer and choreographer Vaslav Nijinsky.
That May 29 The mocking laughter of the audience was heard as soon as the Introduction began, soon giving way to the goofs and the whistle. Next, according to conductor Pierre Monteaux, "everything that was at hand was thrown into the orchestra even though we continued to play." The evening had begun with Le Sylphides (with music by Chopin, we know), followed by The Rite of Spring so the outrage was somehow understandable. Despite everything, the last scene was listened to in a restrained silence. After all, in a few more minutes you could enjoy Weber's The Spirit of the Rose, to end up pleasing every people with Borodin's Polovetsian Dances. That was the full program, and you just had to be patient. Thus, the evening came to an end, and with applause, despite the disturbances caused by the irreverent music of the thirty-year-old Russian composer, Igor Stravinsky.
Another commission from Diaghilev Like The Firebird and Petrushka, the score had been commissioned in 1911 to Stravinsky by the impresario Sergei Diaghilev, founder of the Russian Ballet Company that was all the rage in Paris at the beginning of the last century. After a series of interruptions due to his professional activity, when Stravinsky finally settled on the shores of Lake Leman to escape the Russian winter, in the autumn of 1912, he had pretty much finished the final score, subtitled Pictures of Pagan Russia in two parts.
Concepts design for Act I, for 1913 production
A pagan rite And yes, Diaghilev's idea was to stage a pagan ceremony. Indeed, the play stages a rite of ancient Russia where its primitive inhabitants make a human sacrifice to end winter and help bring the light and warmth of nature back. As Stravinsky recounts in his autobiography of 1936, the idea had already arisen early in his imagination: "One day [in 1910], while working on the last pages of The Firebird in Saint Petersburg I had a fleeting vision ... I saw in my imagination a solemn pagan rite: sage elders, seated in a circle, watching a young girl dance herself to death. They were sacrificing her to propitiate the god of Spring. Such was the theme of the Sacre du Printemps".
Igor Stravinsky (1882 - 1971)
The musical revolution Leaving aside the highly novel staging, with almost no specific plot and that one scholar describes rather as a "succession of choreographic episodes", The Riteof Spring completely revolutionized the musical language in vogue, subverting the three basic components of music: melody, rhythm and harmony.
The melody is simple in appearance and its motifs "seem" of folk origin, although it is a renewed folklore, in the Bartók style. But its workmanship, its "form", is new and so is the insistence with which Stravinsky repeats the themes relentlessly, without any intention of leading them to their traditional "development".
Added to this are bitonal exercises, that is, the superposition of two or more tones, with the addition of removing or suppressing certain notes to create ruptures of balance and exacerbate tensions in order to achieve a barbaric primitivism.
On the rhythmic level, in addition to the important role assigned to percussion, the listener has a permanent feeling of unpredictability, or brutality and disorder, because the rhythms become irregular by the constant change of time signature or by their highly complex application.
The "weird part" of music More than a hundred years have passed and to lay listeners or not even so this music still seems "weird" to us. A comment on YouTube is surprised to be "on the weird part of YouTube again" but is glad about it, and thanks Stravinski for having "invented the weird part" of the video host when the Internet did not yet exist. Anyway, with The Rite of Spring, Stravinsky achieved the immortal masterpiece, perhaps the greatest score of the 20th century, with an enormous influence on all subsequent composers and so far one of the most represented and recorded works of all classical music.
The original choreography Although the work is heard today mostly in an orchestral version, we have preferred to offer here the complete performance, the music together with the choreography, as this makes it easier to approach this new, highly intoxicating and revolutionary experience. The choreography is Nijinski's original, recovered and rebuilt by the Chicago Joffrey Ballet Company in 1980 after been believed lost for almost seventy years. During the Introduction, the curtains are not lifted, and the authors of the video have mounted the credits there. The first scene starts at 2:43.
Sergéi Sergéievich Prokofiev was early warned that if he intended to become the best representative of the Soviet school of music composition of the 20th century first half, he was going to have some issues with authority and the established order. At the age of eight, the composer who was later to combine tradition and modernity in an exemplary manner had already composed his first opera, entitled "Giant". The opera ends with the giant defeating a very powerful king, a plot solution that did not please his father, who recommended removing that part because it did not suit a clearly monarchical era. According to the composer's mother, Sergéi did not pay attention to such suggestions and the work was premiered at an uncle's house, with no changes to the original libretto.
Early years - The Conservatory Born in 1891 in the small Ukrainian village of Sonsovka, the little Sergéi early showed a unique talent for music. So, shortly before Sergéi turned fourteen, his parents, an agronomist engineer and a pianist mother decided his entering to the Saint Petersburg Conservatory. Among his teachers was Rimsky-Korsakov, the star of the Conservatory at that time but from whose lessons Prokofiev did not get any benefit, barely passing the exams. He found the courses unbearable and boring. Consequently, Prokofiev abandoned formal studies at the age of eighteen after receiving the unique diploma of "free artist", due, on the one hand, to his compositional audacity and, on the other hand, to a permanent mutual incomprehension with his teachers.
Private lessons However, two teachers from the same Conservatory will later provide him with a solid musical background, the fruit of five years of uninterrupted lessons. He was no longer unknown in St. Petersburg. He was now recognized as a revolutionary for his musical ideas, coupled with a certain intransigence because of his youth. However, his musical predilections would not yet lead him down the path of modernism. Asked in those years for his favourite authors, Prokofiev would name Tchaikovsky, Wagner and Grieg.
Sergéi Prokófiev (1891 - 1953)
Tour through Europe and the US
During the years prior to the October Revolution, Sergéi was not particularly concerned about the course of events, and before the outbreak of the revolution, he responded with a small cantata for tenor, choir and orchestra entitled Seven, they are seven. In 1918 he left Russia, first and foremost because he understood that a country in a full revolution was not the most propitious environment for composing. The end of his long journey through the US and Europe was due to similar reasons. In 1927 he had heard that the Soviet artist, free from material concerns, could devote all his time to creation. Nine years later he settled permanently in Moscow... he married a Spanish singer, became a father of two children, and turned into a renowned author of a vast instrumental and orchestral work, including chamber, opera and ballet music.
1936, the return He arrived at a good time because in spite of his flirtations with polytonality and violently dissonant harmonies picked up in his passage through the West, the Soviet authorities had identified his art with the musical conceptions of the revolution. Prokofiev would abandon violent orchestrations and give way to lyricism, also willingly accepting some impositions such as a cantata in homage to the October Revolution with texts by Marx, Lenin and Stalin. Around the same years -1936- his popular symphonic tale Peter and the Wolf was unveiled.
But as nothing lasts forever, ten years later his opera The Story of a Real Man will receive the rejection of the Central Committee, warning in it a certain "formalist and anti-popular orientation" that would be wreaking havoc on Soviet artists, including Shostakovich and Kachaturian, both authors of a work that "reveals in a particularly evident way formalist deviations and antidemocratic musical tendencies foreign to the Soviet people and their artistic tastes."
The end Not many years of life remained for Prokofiev. Neither did Stalin. But no one expected them both to die on the same day, March 5, 1953. As a result of this ominous coincidence, for three days, as the throngs gathered to mourn Stalin, it was impossible to carry Prokofiev's body out of his home for burial. Furthermore, the newspapers only reported his death several days later.
Concerto for piano and orchestra No. 3, opus 26, in C major (Use of headphones is recommended)
Of the five piano concertos written by Prokofiev between 1911 and 1932, No. 3, composed between 1917 and 1921, is the one that has garnered the greatest popularity, mainly due to its exceptional melodic and rhythmic innovations.
The concerto was premiered in Chicago on December 16, 1921, with Prokofiev performing as a soloist. In the rendition presented here, the extraordinary Chinese pianist Yuja Wang is accompanied by the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra conducted by the Italian maestro Daniele Gati. Recording of October 3, 2010, at the Concertgebouw Hall in Amsterdam.
The concerto is in three movements, about ten minutes each:
Andante - Allegro It opens with a clarinet solo that the orchestra will later take for its development. After a couple of measures, the lyricism of the melody is interrupted at 1:25 by the exuberant entrance of the piano introducing the allegro. The dialogue between orchestra and soloist begins. They will end in unison in an awesome manner. ["Intermezzo" 10:00 At the reproachful or perhaps furtively lascivious look of the conductor, Yuja stretches her skirt, aware that she is showing off a lot of leg.]
Tema con variazioni (10:10) The central theme, in E minor, is followed by five variations. The movement ends in absolute stillness. (Inexplicably, in the beginning, the video puts the legend "Richard Strauss, Don Juan Op 20", a symphonic poem that obviously does not call for a piano, and even less as a soloist).
Allegro ma non-tropo (19:53) Notwithstanding the slow theme of 22:27, which at times seems to pay homage to the exiled Rachmaninov, this is the most overtly virtuous movement in the work. After a novel bitonal passage (the orchestra in G major and the piano in D major), the coda explodes in a hard battle between orchestra and soloist to finally converge in C major, the initial key, in a dramatic fortissimo.
