The decade from 1880 to 1890 was possibly the most serene period in the life of Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky. His disastrous marriage to Antonina Miliukova, the subsequent separation and the suicide attempt in the waters of the Neva River are far behind him. The new decade contemplates years of increasing fame and prestige –his successes as a composer bringing him significant incomes. All this, added to the generous patronage of Mrs. von Meck – his wealthy epistolary mistress – will make it possible to see fulfilled in 1885 one of his great illusions: to own a country house.
On the outskirts of Klin, halfway between Moscow and St. Petersburg, he found the ideal property in an old mansion that had belonged to an aristocratic family. There he subjected himself to a severe work discipline, only interrupted by long walks. In complete peace, he develops his creative passion, although the doubt about the greatness of his genius is never absent, thus encouraging the phantom of depression. On June 10, 1888 he writes to Nadezhda von Meck:
"Now I intend to work very seriously for a certain period of time. I would so much like to be able to prove not only to others, but to myself, that I am not exhausted! I often wonder if it is not time to stop writing music, if I have not abused my creative forces, if the fountain has not run dry. [...]. I don't know if I have already told you that I have decided to write a symphony. At first, my work progressed painfully, but now it seems that the light of inspiration has been kindled within me... We shall see..."
The work he is working on is the Fifth Symphony, which will keep him busy during June and July of that year. He is driven, in fact, by the desire to create a work that surpasses all his previous production. He half succeeds. With Pyotr Ilyich conducting, its premiere took place in St. Petersburg on November 17, to a lukewarm reception. Shortly afterwards, in Prague, things did not improve. The musician lost faith in his own work and in that spirit wrote to Nadezhda: "[the work has] something unpleasant, a lack of spontaneity that the audience notices."
The andante cantabile
However, the following year he would conduct it in Hamburg during a concert tour, with overwhelming success (reportedly with Johannes Brahms in the audience). He was then able to write that the Fifth Symphony had won back his sympathies. And time has proved him right. For many specialists, its second movement, andante cantabile, is one of Tchaikovsky's most inspired symphonic movements, to the point of inspiring others, fifty years later...
The rendition is by the young Russian orchestra, created in 2000, the Moscow City Symphony, under the baton of Dmitri Jurowsky.
Fifth Symphony in E minor, op 64. Second movement
Andante cantabile, con alguna licenza
Entrusted to the low strings, some emotionally charged and mysterious measures begin the movement. At 0:48 a melody emerges, soft and melancholic, played by the horn. It is then joined by the oboe and clarinet (1:54).
2:08 Second theme, entrusted to the clarinet. 2:45 The strings play the first theme, then the second. An intermediate episode provides the pretext for a very delicate clarinet solo (5:05). Then, at 6:16, a more agitated episode, which will stop abruptly.
6:50 Violas and violins in pizzicato: preamble for the re-entry of the first theme, played by the same strings.
8:08 The rhythm becomes somewhat livelier (con alguna licenza?), always with the first theme. (This passage excited Glenn Miller, I imagine).
8:50 The second theme reappears, the orchestra in tutti. 9:49 After a fictitious lull, the trombones burst in, quoting the main motif of the First Movement.
10:35 The strings whisper the second theme, dolcissimo. A final chant by the oboe closes the movement.
Tchaikovsky Americanized
As many of you have guessed, the main melody of the second movement became very popular during the first half of the 20th century, thanks to Glenn Miller and Frank Sinatra, among others, who recorded a sung version of the theme with the title "Moon Love". As it is indeed a novelty, this page has invited the maestro Miller to tell us how Tchaikovsky can also have a swing.
During the years that Mozart and Constance lived in Vienna after their marriage in 1782, the couple changed residence eleven times. Some of these moves had to be made in haste; others had to be made stealthily after the landlord had tired of demanding the rent. Although no one can explain it properly – given the many successes, that of Figaro, for example – Mozart's financial situation during his last years was marked by precariousness.
Chamber composer at last After Gluck died in 1787, Mozart was able to access the position of court chamber composer, but the urgent economies of the Austrian treasury prevented him from being paid the same salary as his predecessor. He had to settle for 800 florins – as opposed to 2000 that Gluck received – which made him exclaim "too much for what I do, too little for what I could do". Sure, he had been hired only to compose dances for the annual balls in the Redoutensaal, the concert and dance hall.
A long journey
So when in April 1789 his friend Prince Lichnowsky invited him to Potsdam, to the court of King Frederick William II of Prussia, Wolfgang immediately embarked on the long journey that included Prague, Dresden, Leipzig and Berlin, cities whose courts would take advantage of the maestro's presence to commission him for some works. And he was right, for no sooner had he arrived in Prague than the director of the Opera commissioned a new work from him. The commission: 1,000 guilders, not bad.
It was a good start. But that was all. Or almost.
Frederica Louise of Prussia
Dresden, Leipzig, Berlin, Potsdam
In Dresden, he played before the Elector Frederick Augustus, who presented him with a golden snuffbox containing a hundred florins. In Leipzig he improvised on the Bach organ in the Church of the Tomasschulle... and in Berlin, the reception was rather discreet. But at the court residence in Potsdam, he played before the king, who – through his "royal music director" – kindly commissioned six string quartets from him, and some compositions for his daughter Frederica, an enthusiastic keyboard player.
There were no opera commissions nor offering of positions. Three months later, Mozart returned to Vienna with a hundred florins.
Mozart's last sonata
It is believed that the Sonata K. 576 in D major, the last one composed by Mozart, may have been one of the pieces that Frederick William requested for his daughter. It is dated July 1789 but was not printed until 1805. Although Mozart's autograph includes the legend "leichte Klaviersonate" (easy sonata), it is a very difficult piece, which raises doubts as to whether Wolfgang composed it with the king's daughter in mind, or, failing that, some other little princess. If so, it is the only one he wrote for that purpose.
The faultless rendition is by the Japanese pianist Mitsuko Uchida. (A brief guide, following the video.)
According to some, it is the most difficult sonata of all those written by Mozart. But the technical problems do not arise from the thematic material, lively and agile, but from the careful contrapuntal treatment, inspired perhaps by the visit to Leipzig and Wolfgang's reunion with the still latent figure of JS Bach.
As was typical of the time, the work is in three movements, in a standard fast, slow, fast order:
00Allegro Markedly contrapuntal in character (the left hand repeats what the right hand has done), the main theme reappears continuously, subject to imitation (for example 0:42). At 1:01 a sub-theme appears, drawn from the opening material. 1:25Da capo: the entire first section is repeated. 3:35 Recapitulation and development: a concentrated study of counterpoint.
5:06Adagio In the dominant key of A major, a clean and clear melody, at times softly veiled by chromatic runs.
10:20Allegretto A very lively rondo, almost as contrapuntal as the first movement. Particularly novel is the canon "in fifths" at 12:31. The movement ends in complete calm.
With all due respect, I venture to paraphrase Shakespeare to point out that "never was a story of more woe than this of Violetta and her Alfredo".
How did it all happen? Alfredo Germont himself tells here for this modest blog how the tragedy unfolded:
"Despite her pallor, Violetta Valéry, my Violetta, was a woman as dazzling as a sunny summer day. I cannot give more details because I had only seen her from afar, in the company of my great friend Gaston, of whom she was, I must admit, her lover. Ignorant of my secret love for her, good old Gaston invited me one day to be his companion to Violetta's salon where, as usual, my beloved from afar was giving a party to be attended by the tout Paris.
"Once there, I was introduced to her and in less than a minute I fell at his feet. As I knew she was just recovering from a nagging illness, I expressed my wishes for everlasting good health. Next, I thought of declaring my love for her but Gaston and Violetta's friends called me to make a toast to Violeta and to life when I was in the middle of it. Timorous at first, I finally managed to enthuse the whole audience, who ended up singing along with me and Violetta in a brilliant chorus.
"Shortly before we passed into the dining room, and seeing that Violeta was delaying a little – perhaps on purpose - I found myself alone with her for the first time and right there I declared my eternal love to her. Violeta did not seem very sure of the seriousness of my intentions but later, when we said goodbye, she gave me a flower, telling me in my ear to come back "when the flower had withered". I returned home filled with joy.
"I don't want to bother you with details about the further steps of our engagement. What is certain is that, three months later, we found ourselves living in the country house that Violetta had in the outskirts of Paris because, I must say, although I was the son of nobles, I did not have a country house, neither in the outskirts of Paris nor anywhere else.
"And this is when my father Giorgio comes in and the tragedy begins. Attentive guardian of the family's honor, Giorgio Germont took a very dim view of the fact that I had " bedded", he said, with a "courtesan"... My sister's marriage to a very noble nobleman was approaching, and it was not in anyone's interest that my future brother-in-law should learn that I was living in sin with that courtesan, my love. So he found nothing better than approach the country house while I was frolicking in the meadows and gardens, and convince Violetta that she should abandon me. Of course, I learned that later. What I found on my return was a letter in which Violetta confessed to me that she had entered the phase of disaffection. Next to the letter, there was an invitation from Flora, Violetta's soul friend, to an evening in Paris. There was no doubt – I mistakenly thought –, my former friend Gaston had to be behind all this.
"Pained as only one who has been the victim of an infamous betrayal by a loved one can be, I left the house and headed for Paris. On the appointed day, I went to Flora's house to confront Violetta face to face. I claimed her felony, perhaps inelegantly, because the whole crowd turned against me. Even my father scolded me, who appeared there by surprise, looking for me (now I know why). Irritated, Flora and her guests suggested that I had to leave the room. That's what I did, but not before I had told Violetta a few truths... truths? Oh, how wrong was I wandering through life. Violetta, my Violetta, even confessed that she was having an affair with Gaston, lying to me and to herself. What pain!
"And all because I'd have listened to my father.
"Violetta was already consumed by tuberculosis when my father confessed everything to me: the sacrifice she had made for him, for my sister and for the honor of a family she did not know. Violetta did love me and had always loved me. And now, helpless and sick, she was only waiting for death. I ran to see her, praying to God and all the saints in heaven that it was not too late: I needed her forgiveness more than the air I breathed.
"The Lord, immensely kind, granted us a rest. According to the doctor, Violetta had only a few hours left. But I felt her revive with my arrival. We even made plans, we would leave Paris, we would travel. But she had no strength left. She announced her death to me with terrible words: you did not save me, she said."
La Traviata, Act III - Violetta and Alfredo's duet "Parigi o cara"
The Italian composer and pianist Muzio Clementi was born in Rome in 1752, four years before Mozart. As he showed great musical talent at an early age, his father, a well-to-do goldsmith, did not hesitate to put him in the hands of a music teacher at the age of seven. The decision proved to be a wise one, for at thirteen Muzio took the position of organist in the church. Shortly afterwards, he was invited by a wealthy Englishman to continue his instruction in England, in exchange for living up the evenings at the potentate's mansion, where he remained until 1774, first studying the harpsichord and then delighting an audience that could not cease expressing his amazement at the young Roman's display of virtuosity.
A brilliant concert pianist But unlike the other prodigy – his contemporary Mozart – the young Clementi did not make his first public appearance as a pianist until 1770, that is, when he was eighteen years old. His first compositions – here again the stark contrast – were published around 1772, and he made his first European tour nine years later, in 1781. However, despite the gap with the genius of Salzburg, by that time Muzio Clementi had made a name for himself as one of the most brilliant concert pianists in the Europe of his time.
Muzio Clementi (1752 - 1732)
Clementi versus Mozart This was perhaps what encouraged Emperor Joseph II to hold a unique competition in the salons of his court, when he was given the opportunity to have the two artists in Vienna, precisely during the tour that Clementi was making for the first time. At the beginning of 1781, Wolfgang and Muzio gave their best, performing their own works and improvising variations on themes proposed by the emperor or by some courageous courtier. When the "contest" was over, Joseph II saw fit to declare a draw.
A theme, "on loan" However, the one who came out on top was Mozart, for one of the themes from the sonata Clementi presented at that evening so captivated Mozart that, ten years later, he allowed himself to use it in the overture to The Magic Flute. The unauthorized "collaboration" deeply embittered Clementi, who was forced to include a note every time he published the sonata, warning that the theme had been composed ten years before the celebrated opera.
Sonatinas Opus 36 The loaned sonata, of course, was only one of the approximately 110 sonatas that Muzio Clementi composed throughout his life, the first of them, shorter, published as "sonatinas". His opus 36, consisting of six sonatinas of no more than five minutes in length, has since its creation constituted a delightful oasis for the beginning pianist who, having forgotten for a while the tedious exercises of technique, counts on them to early dive in the marvelous world of classicism.
Sonatina No 6 in D major Rarely performed in public by virtuosos, they make up a beautiful collection of little gems that, despite their apparent simplicity, may demand from the performer even more application than some of Mozart's early sonatas. For all these reasons, we are very grateful that the extraordinary Chinese pianist Yuja Wang had no qualms about uploading an early performance of Sonatina No. 6, when she was still a child, when she was not yet Yuja Wang, although she was very seriously on her way to becoming one.
The sonatina has only two movements:
00: Allegro con spirito. An elegant theme, marked dolce, begins the little gem. After its natural development, it resolves at 1:15 to approach a second theme at 1:17. A pair of interrogative phrases will announce (at 1:46) the return to the initial motive (1:53) that this time will lead to a resolute ending.
3:11Allegretto spiritoso. Yuja takes her time before approaching it, like a pro. The first part incorporates the end of the movement and the end of the piece. Therefore, the second part (beginning at 3:48) carries in the last bar the indication "da capo al fine" thus signaling that now the first part must be repeated completely (4:51) until its "fine". This is known as "ternary form".
Written between 1804 and 1805, the Triple Concerto was not premiered until 1808 at the Augarten Summer Concerts in Vienna, with Beethoven at the piano. For a time it was thought that the work had been written for Archduke Rudolf, who had become an accomplished pianist under Ludwig's tutelage. But in 1805 Beethoven sent the manuscript to be published with a dedication to his closest noble friend, soon to be the most modest of his patrons before he went bankrupt, Prince Joseph Franz von Lobkowitz.
Beethoven's patrons - The yearning for a fixed income In 1806 Beethoven had tried to resume his career as a playwright, given the success achieved by the opera Fidelio in 1805. He sent a letter to the commission that governed the imperial theaters of Vienna committing himself to compose an opera and an operetta every year, in exchange for 2,400 florins plus benefits (those corresponding to the third representation of each one). The request was denied.
Two years later, Jérôme Bonaparte (brother of Napoleon I), newly crowned king of Westphalia, extended an invitation to Beethoven offering him the position of Kapellmeister at his provincial court in Cassel. The possibility of reaching a fixed income – a maestro's old dream – appeared to become a reality: the salary was advantageous, although the relocation meant leaving the splendor of Vienna and the circle of his friends. Beethoven was enthusiastic.
Prince Lobkowitz (1772 - 1816) dedicatée of Violin Concerto
But when it became known that the maestro was planning to leave the imperial capital, several close friends launched a campaign to keep him in Vienna. Thus was born the famous contract signed in 1808 by three of his most faithful noble friends, who undertook to pay Beethoven a sum of not less than four thousand florins a year as long as the maestro remained in the capital of the empire. Beethoven signed the contract, rejecting Jérôme's offer.
Prince Kinski had pledged 1800 florins but in 1812 he fell off a horse and died. (And the family did not want to know anything about patronage contracts.) Prince Lobkowitz, as if he had foreseen it, modestly offered only 700 florins, because before long he went bankrupt. Only Archduke Rudolph of Austria fulfilled the agreement and religiously paid his share, 1,500 florins, year after year.
Concerto for piano, violin, cello and orchestra, in C major, Opus 56, "Triple Concerto". Despite the undeniable quality of the work, in its time the critics opinion was not favorable about it. However, it has remained in the repertoire until today and has not ceased to delight the audience.
The rendition is by the Ludwig Trio, accompanied by the Orquesta Sinfónica de Galicia, conducted by Víctor Pablo. The Ludwig Trio is formed by the brothers Abel Tomás (violin), Arnau Tomás (cello) and the South Korean pianist Hyo-Sun Lim.
Allegro The thematic material is delivered first by the orchestra and then taken up by the solo instruments, first the cello, then the violin and finally the piano. The main theme is built on a drawing sketched by cellos and double basses.
Largo18:20 Very short but rich in expression. After a somewhat tragic introduction by the orchestra, the cellos introduce the main motive in a particularly high register (18:44). The piano joins in later with a delicate unison arpeggio figuration at 20:27. The movement links with the last, with no pause.
Rondo alla polacca23:42 A vividly repeated note by the solo cello introduces the movement which, according to alla polacca indication, must be played with the rhythm and character of a polonaise. The theme is lively, and plays with specific sounds of Polish folklore. In the end, the rondo theme is picked up in brilliant virtuous passages by the three soloists.
When Giacomo Puccini began writing the triptych whose last and final part is the comic opera Gianni Schicchi, he was almost sixty years old and had already composed at least four masterpieces: Manon Lescaut, La Bohème, Tosca and Madame Butterfly. But at the same time, he was going through a critical moment. He had fallen out with his publisher Ricordi, among other reasons, because the latter was reluctant to publish what for Puccini was a long-standing desire: the composition of three one-act operas to be performed together on the same evening.
Scene from "Gianni Schicchi", directed by Woody Allen in June 2009 at the Teatro Nuovo, Spoleto, Italy (*)
A drama, a comedy, and a farce The idea followed the scheme of the grand puppet theater, that is, the successive representation of three plays with totally different atmospheres: a drama, a sentimental comedy and a farce. He had already completed one in 1916, the one-act tragedy Il Tabarro. So, disregarding his publisher, he set about searching themes for the composition of the remaining two. First, he completed the solemn and religious Suor Angelica, with only female characters (since it takes place in a convent) and then, in 1917, he began writing the amusing and enlightened Gianni Schicchi, based on an episode from canto XXX of the "Inferno" of Dante's Divine Comedy.
Giacomo Puccini (1858 - 1924)
The Triptych The three works, unified under the name Il Trittico, were staged on December 14, 1918, at New York's Metropolitan Opera with mixed results, although Gianni Schicchi won the applause.
Gianni Schicchi The play begins with a family gathered around a dying wealthy relative, whom they mourn in grief although they appear to be more interested in the inheritance. After reading the will, the family panics when they learn that the entire fortune has been left to a monastery. A solution is offered by a character, which involves the participation of the peasant Gianni Schicchi, father of his lover. Gianni would take the place of the dead man and draw up a new will before the notary. This is done, but the cure turns out to be worse than the disease. Schicchi will bequeath everything to himself. Finally, fatherly love will solve everything.
O mio babbino caro As Schicchi is initially falsely reluctant to participate in the trick, his daughter, in love, begs him by singing the most famous aria of the work: O mio babbino caro (Oh, my dear daddy), performed here by the beautiful Greek soprano Irini Kyriakidou, in a rendering of the opera brought to our times.
(*) In June 2007, Woody Allen announced that he was planning to add two creative debuts to his career: directing a play he did not create, and directing an opera. His production of Gianni Schicchi opened the 2 Worlds Festival in Spoleto in 2009. When asked about his own work in this new line, he commented: "I have no idea what I'm doing".
At the end of the 19th century, the composer and conductor Gustav Mahler, "Bohemian in Austria, Austrian among Germans, Jewish all over the world," by his own stateless definition, enjoyed astonishing international celebrity for a musician barely over 35 years. In 1892 he had directed Wagner's Ring of the Nibelung in London, and then Falstaff (Verdi), Manon Lescaut (Puccini) and Eugenio Onegin (Tchaikovski) in Hamburg. Shortly afterwards he was invited to conduct in Moscow, while in Berlin the performance of his own works was witnessed. He was, therefore, more than willing and able for the position he had always longed for: the direction of the Vienna Court Opera.
The Jewish question The first steps were taken in 1896 and by the end of that year he had attracted enormous support among Viennese artistic circles: he was definitely the most qualified musician to govern the destiny of the first theater of the Empire. But one obstacle stood firmly in the way: his Jewish origin. And the one who held the baton – there is no better expression – in that sense was none other than Cosima Wagner, Liszt's daughter and Richard Wagner's widow, and at the time director of the Bayreuth Festival, created by the author of Tannhäuser for the performance of his works.
Cosima A fervent anti-Semite, Cosima could not even imagine that a member of a minority that until a few years ago had been barred from certain activities, such as the production and sale of alcoholic products, could become the director of the illustrious and prestigious Hofoper, despite his qualifications. Even though, in the case of Mahler, Cosima would keep appreciating the performances he had given of her late husband's music.
Cosima Wagner (1837-1930). in London, 1877
The new faith Gustav Mahler resolved the situation in a simple way. Always concerned with religious matters, he devoted some time to the study of the figure of Christ and in February 1897 he had himself baptized in the Catholic faith. After some negotiations, he was appointed, in April of that year, as the new director of the Imperial Opera.
The new style He made his debut the following month with a performance of Wagner's Lohengrin. And he imposed his law: he forbade the entrance to the hall once the performance had begun, prevented enthusiastic demonstrations in the middle of the performances and disbanded the claque (professional applauders), at the same time subjecting orchestra and singers to exhausting rehearsals. Under his direction, which lasted ten years, the Vienna Opera experienced its best times.
Life and death
The problem of life and death and the afterlife had been a constant concern and anguish for Gustav since he was a child. Eight of his thirteen siblings died at an early age, his brother Otto, also a musician, committed suicide at the age of 22, another sister died at 26, and only four went on to live a full existence. Gustav searched hard for answers and inspiration in many fields, including the Bible, where he finally found that the resurrection solved the problem.
Gustav Mahler (1860 - 1911)
Symphony No 2 - The beginnings He had started work on the second symphony very early, in 1888, when he was 28 years old, but had made no progress beyond what was at the moment a symphonic poem on verses by the Polish poet Adam Mickiewicz (Chopin's friend). He showed the work to the prestigious director Hans von Büllow, whose wife, the very Cósima, had been taken from him by Richard Wagner. Little was the enthusiasm shown by von Büllow.
The Inspiration - Büllow's Funeral Five years later, he added another three movements and the work awaited inspiration for the last one, which paradoxically came in 1894 for the funeral of von Büllow. On the occasion, he had the opportunity to listen to a choral page on verses by the German poet Klopstock. The impression he received was enormous and he decided to make his own musicalization of the poem, adding some verses of his personal inspiration, to build the fifth movement and finale of the Second Symphony. Its premiere, under his baton, was well received in Berlin on December 15, 1895.
Symphony No. 2, in C minor, "Resurrection" - 5th movement The complete work lasts almost an hour and a half. The last movement is presented here, starting with the entrance of the choir. Gustavo Dudamel conducts the Simón Bolívar Youth Symphony on the occasion of the 2011 BBC Proms at London's Royal Albert Hall, featuring Swedish soprano Miah Persson and compatriot mezzo Anna Larsson. The choir is the National Youth Choir of Great Britain.
Fifth movement: Im tempo des Scherzos The whole movement lasts about half an hour. Very episodic and strongly symbolic in character, the movement is the first of his entire symphonic cycle in which Mahler has introduced a chorus, in the manner of Beethoven in the Ninth and Mendelssohn in his 2nd symphony.
We take the movement the moment after piccolo and flute have attested that everything has ceased to exist. The earth remains cold and silent. But at 0:15 something magical happens. A choir of angels enters to sing the chorale "Resurrection". Barely audible at first (hearing with headphones is recommended), in one of the most breathtaking sottovoce passages in the history of music, the choir murmurs, "You shall rise, yes you shall rise again, my dust, after a brief sleep!". From the mass of choral sound, the soprano voice plucks with serene joy at 1:57. It will return at 5:16 with restrained glee. After a long serene passage, the mezzo voice enters at 7:45 with Mahler's added verses. After a second intervention by the soprano (8:45) followed by the choir, a new episode at 10:34 initiated by the mezzo voice will lead to a finale in which everything is fanfare and ringing of bells.
Thus, we have all been resurrected. Although I, just returned to life, as well, would have liked the hostess to stay where she was, silent, in her grave.
It is customary to affirm that Chopin would have composed some of the 24 preludes op15 in a former Carthusian monastery in Valldemossa, in Mallorca, the last destination of a harrowing vacation in the company of George Sand and her children, escaping the Parisian winter, in 1838-39.
A later account by the writer seems to support this opinion. Furthermore, we would all like to believe that one evening Chopin greeted Sand and her children – on their way back to the monastery after their nocturnal explorations in the rain – with the first sketches of Prelude No. 15 in D-flat, the favorite candidate to claim the popular nickname, "Raindrop".
Sand writes:
"... Then he would make an effort to smile and play for us melodies he had just composed [...] In those instants he would compose the most beautiful of those brief pages that he modestly called preludes...".
"His composition that night was full of the raindrops that resounded on the sounding tiles of the Charterhouse, but they had become in his imagination and in his singing tears falling from the sky, on his heart."
Where does all this happen? In Valldemossa, naturally, since Sand refers to the Charterhouse and since the previous lodgings did not encourage touring the surroundings in the rain. Before arriving at the abandoned monastery, the travelers had tried their luck in two other lodgings.
Looking for accommodation
The unique family had arrived in Palma de Mallorca in the first days of November 1838 and rented some miserably furnished rooms in the house of a barrel maker, since at that time of year there was no hotel. Tired of the noise of the chores, they accepted the offer of a rich bourgeois to move into his property, in a small village on the outskirts of Palma. There Chopin rents an old and somewhat rickety upright piano, a pianino, where he works as best he can, until the rich bourgeois invites them to leave because so much cough is suspicious. Finally, they will end up renting some "cells" in the now famous Cartuja, about fifteen kilometers from Palma, in the mountains. The travelers moved there, pianino included, on December 15.
The Preludes, finished
A month before, that is, as soon as they arrived in Palma – and probably still at the house of the barrel maker – Chopin writes to his friend Fontana: "very soon you will receive the preludes". So, it follows that if they were not finished they were certainly very advanced.
It is January 22, 1839, when he sends them to his publisher and friend Camille Pleyel, asking for them 1,500 francs for their edition in France and England. He has finished their revision on the piano sent precisely by Pleyel, which has been removed from customs at great expense and then wearily transported to the charterhouse.
So the music full of raindrops turned into tears that Sand heard that night was probably the revised, corrected and final version of Prelude No. 15, and not a composition of recent inspiration, from only a few hours before. In any case, she was not attending a minor event.
The raindrop
Of all "those short pages that he modestly called preludes", No. 15 is one of the few that long exceed a minute or two.
It begins with a nostalgic and evocative melody in a major key, D flat, accompanied by a delicate left-hand ostinato on a single note (the raindrop?).
1:50 A somewhat terrifying progression opens up in the minor key, with the ostinato much more pronounced and now entrusted to the right hand. After a few repetitions, a variation is led by the right hand in 3:48.
4:47 Three passing notes indicate the return to light, taking up the initial motif that, after a pause (5:20), is heading to its end, the ostinato, dying away.
The pianist Suncica Randjelovic – of unknown origin – gives us here a quite right rendition in an original and novel "video clip".
Beethoven's cultural background at the age of seventeen was, of course, neither broad nor deep. But after his mother died in 1787, when he returned to Bonn after his first trip to Vienna – a mere sketch of the future – he had the good fortune to be hired by an intelligent and distinguished widow, Mrs Helene von Breuning, to give music lessons to her four children. The young Ludwig was welcomed in that house as another son and the distinguished lady would become his mentor and teacher, as well as a second mother. There he learned French, perfected his Latin and became acquainted with the masters of German poetry.
The dedicatee For some time, Beethoven maintained a somewhat more than a friendly interest in one of the daughters, Eleonora, but the relationship did not come to fruition –it was an early sign that, in that area, things were going to prove difficult. Instead, he established close ties with one of the sons, Stephan von Breuning, about his own age. After moving to Vienna and resuming his friendship with Beethoven – settled there from 1793 – Stephan would become one of those closest to the musician for many years. Ludwig will respond to the affection in 1806 with the dedication of the Concerto for violin and orchestra.
Works of the period Only four years earlier, Beethoven had written a letter addressed to his two brothers – the famous Heiligenstadt Testament –, where he announced the idea of ending his life, overwhelmed by his progressive deafness. Fortunately, this was not the case – he did not send the letter either – and two years later the master would add to the universal repertoire no more and no less than the Eroica Symphony, which would be followed by the Triple Concerto, the Appassionata Sonata and the Piano Concerto No. 4, to name some of the most relevant works of that period.
Helene von Breuning
Concerto for Violin and Orchestra in D major, opus 61
To this prolific period belongs the composition of the Concerto for violin and orchestra, the only one written by Beethoven for this instrument. It appears that he did not have a special predilection for it, however, he accepted the commission made by his young friend Franz Clement, at that time concertmaster and conductor of the Vienna Opera.
The work was to be premiered at a benefit performance for Clement on December 23, 1806, at the Theater an der Wien, so the extremely tight deadlines forced Beethoven to work against time, delivering the score very shortly before the evening, leaving Clement almost no time to get ready.
The rescue According to the story, Clement, annoyed, dared to play a piece of his own between the first and second movements, so that it would be clear what he was capable of. The work was not as successful as expected and was not performed again until 1844, with the twelve-year-old violinist Joseph Joachim as the soloist, conducted by Felix Mendelssohn, who rescued it from undeserved oblivion seventeen years after Beethoven's death.
The rendition is by Itzhak Perlman, accompanied by the Berlin Philharmonic, conducted by Daniel Barenboim.
The movements, described, below the video.
Let's note that there is also a version for piano, requested by the pianist and composer Muzio Clementi, who is still present today for his great pedagogical contribution. But it is performed very occasionally because it does not reach the brilliance achieved by the sonority of the violin in the original work, which has become one of the most important works in the repertoire for solo violin.
Movements:
0:36 Allegro ma non troppo. This is the longest of the three movements, lasting almost half of the concerto, about 25 minutes, which at the time was considered extreme. Four timpani beats introduce the movement. After a long exposition by the orchestra, the solo violin enters at 3:53 with the first theme that the orchestra has already foreshadowed. The second theme is introduced by bassoon and clarinet at 6:00, which the violin immediately takes over to develop, at 6:09. It is then taken up by the orchestra while the soloist indulges in flourishes. An extended development of the two themes finally gives way to a long cadenza (20:22 to 23:26) that leads into the second, peaceful theme. A vigorous crescendo of the orchestra announces the finale.
25:35Larghetto (in the video, after an exasperating wait for the audience to stop coughing) The movement, of great musicality, is based on a lyrical melody probably taken from some Russian theme, according to specialists. Without interruption, it connects to the third movement, in:
35:23Rondo The theme is introduced by the solo violin. Beethoven did not write any cadenzas for this final movement (we know he was short of time), so this is the opportunity for the soloist to shine with his own inventiveness and technical ability (41:57), which is brilliantly done by the Israeli-American virtuoso Itzhak Perlman. When all appears to be over, the orchestra falls silent and allows the soloist to rehearse a rhythmic echo of the theme (44:53). Two spirited tutti chords mark the end.
The very popular bagatelle (a short, unpretentious piece) Für Elise was published almost 40 years after Beethoven's death. In 1865, his disciple Ludwig Nohl made public a copy he had supposedly found among the belongings of Therese Malfatti, one of the many girls to whom Beethoven proposed marriage with adverse results.
Therese Malfatti at the piano surrounded by her family, circa 1810
Therese? The disciple claimed to have seen the original manuscript as well, although he never showed it. And even though he had found the copy at Therese's house, he published it under the title "Für Elise" because that is what he thought he read in Beethoven's scribbles. Always according to Nohl, the copy was dated 1810, precisely the time when Ludwighad made his daring proposal. Between that and the legend, there was only one step: the famous bagatelle was dedicated to Therese Malfati.
Elizabeth? But if so, why title it "Für Elise" and not "Für Therese." A proposal of the time: Nohl simply misread, relying on the fact that there was no known Elisa with whom Beethoven had been intimate. However, recent studies indicate that, also around 1810, the maestro had some correspondence with a certain Elizabeth Röckel, daughter of a singer friend of Beethoven's, of prominent participation in the opera Fidelio. The piece is called Für Elise in German, and German Elizabeths are usually called Elise.
Elizabeth Röckel, in 1814
Is the matter settled? Not so much, because is quite relevant to ask what the manuscript (according to Nohl) was doing in Therese's house. The only certainty, so far, is that only an incomplete rendition of the work is preserved (in the Beethoven-Haus in Bonn), a sketch on a sheet of paper that Beethoven used to write down his ideas; it dates from 1810 and, as I understand it, is untitled.
Multiple versions for a bagatelle However, this ambiguous origin was never an obstacle for the piano bagatelle Für Elise to become the quintessence of the popularization of classical music, whether in jazz or heavy rock renditions, including cell phone ringtones. From the other side of the coin, the arrangements for piano and orchestra are also noted.
"Für Elise", the drawing Beethoven was forty years old when he composed the piece, and he was not shy about working on a simple theme to which he added a couple of variations. The main idea leads into a sub-theme at 0:31, only to return at 0:40. Everything is repeated. The first variation, somewhat more agile, appears at 1:21, to return to the main motif at 1:46. Despite the simplicity of the piece, a recognizable Beethoven emerges in the second variation, at 2:24. At 3:05 the piece resumes its calm and initial motif to head toward a quiet ending.
The rendition (and arrangement for orchestra) is by Bulgarian pianist Georgii Cherkin.
When, in 1968, the Hungarian composer György Ligeti learned that the filmmaker Stanley Kubrick had included a considerable part of his music to the soundtrack of the movie 2001 Space Odyssey without his approval, he did not make a mess as we would have done, normally, in the Western world. By then an Austrian citizen, Ligeti simply sued Kubrick for damages and demanded a financial compensation amounting to the sum of one dollar.
Worldwide audience Coming from a Jewish family that had been under the rigours of Nazism – from which only his mother was spared –, and himself a child of a totalitarian society, Ligeti believed that Kubrick had only incurred in the indelicacy of not requesting his authorization, although, obviously, the filmmaker had not paid the corresponding rights either. But it was a wise way of dealing with the situation, for soon after the release of 2001... he saw how his music travelled around the world, thanks precisely to that sloppy action.
György Ligeti (1923 - 2006)
Add and go Kubrick lost the litigation and paid the dollar, we suppose, because in two of his next five films he turned again to Ligeti to create the soundtrack for the films The Shining, from 1980, and finally, for Eyes Wide Shut, his last release, from 1999. We suppose, too, that this time he did pay the fee.
Timbre and "sonorism" Ligeti's music – at least from the 1960s onwards – is marked by a virtual abandonment of harmony, rhythm and melody (no more, no less), in order to focus on timbre and thereby achieve what he called the making of a "sound mass". A fitting expression of this idea is his work Atmospheres, part of which was used in 2001..., along with his Requiem (accompanying the discovery of the monolith) and the a cappella work for 16 voices, Lux Aeterna. The madness of the central character in The Shining gets full support with the orchestral work, Lontano, from 1967.
Musica ricercata It's not easy at all humming Ligeti's work, by the way. There are no tunes here. Although, you can try to recognize a couple of notes in some of the movements that make up his piano work, from 1953, Musica Ricercata, a set of eleven pieces censored by the Hungarian authorities of its time as "decadent" (Ricercare = search; instrumental composition typical of the 16th and 17th centuries). The first movement is built on two notes, the second on three, and so on until the last, built on twelve notes.
Second movement = mesto, rigido e cerimoniale It is the one that Kubrick incorporated in Eyes Wide Shut. The three notes that the composer uses are: E-sharp, F-sharp and G. But G makes its entrance almost in the middle of the piece, at 1:43, attacked vigorously, and then accelerating to a "tremolo" as the left hand takes up the initial motif of the two notes in octaves (2:04). The movement ends by pressing only the G note, rittardando, until it fades out.
It may first appear somewhat monotonous. But it achieves an atmosphere. As Ligeti would claim, that's what it's all about.
The rendering is by the Spanish pianist, Vicente Uñón.
Around 1880, the chapel composer position in Italy was on the verge of disappearing. The newly born Italian state had been dismantling the ecclesiastical musical organizations and transferring their traditional teaching duties to the new secular conservatories. However, as is typical of the history of some of humanity's transformations, both institutions behaved wisely enough to coexist in perfect harmony for a time.
It is therefore not surprising that in 1881 the composer Amilcare Ponchielli served as maestro di capella of the cathedral of Bergamo and also as professor of composition at the Milan Conservatory, where Giacomo Puccini and Pietro Mascagni were among his pupils.
La Gioconda, a lyrical drama There is no doubt that the pupils surpassed the master. Amilcare Ponchielli, even with ten operas to his credit, is remembered today for his only work still performed on the world's stages, the opera La Gioconda, a lyric drama in four acts set to a libretto based on a play in prose by Victor Hugo. The play was enthusiastically received for its premiere at La Scala in Milan in 1876, and became a dazzling success in 1880 at the same theater, after numerous revisions.
Amilcare Ponchielli (1834 - 1886)
All in all, the work was the last breath of a musical universe in retreat before the advance of the style that would become known as verismo, which would do away with mythological heroes and fantastic settings, and which would be led precisely by his pupils Mascagni and Puccini.
The additional element
It's true that the audience of 1880 was already beginning to get tired of some plays that were not exempt from a certain vulgarity. Therefore, it was necessary to add some extra element to the development of the story, making the actors and singers participate as an audience in some spectacle that occurred, with more or less artifice, in the "reality level" of the story told.
Dance of the Hours To this need responds the inclusion of a ballet at the end of the third act of La Gioconda, the popular Dance of the Hours, which Walt Disney's film Fantasia was responsible for making it even more famous, even though – or precisely because of it – it was a parody that features as dancers hippos, ostriches, lizards and elephants in tutus.
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In the performance presented here, there are no elephants or hippopotamuses, but quite the opposite. At the Gran Teatro Liceu in Barcelona, the sensual Italian dancer Letizia Giuliani is accompanied by the Spanish dancer Angel Corella, both in charge of the leading roles. The melodies that have become popular, clearly recognizable by every listener, can be heard at minutes 1:55 and 8:11. (Sadly, Youtube has catalogued the video as for adults (!). So, it can only be watched there (!). Anyway, it's soooooo worth it.)
