Mozart, Piano Concerto No 23, in A major

His journey, as a pianist, in Vienna

Just after his 28th birthday, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart decided to start behaving like an organized musician. By that time, he had already composed approximately 450 pieces, an impressive body of work that took a lot of work to keep track of. So in February 1784 he acquired a 44-page notebook in Vienna, put an inscription on the cover: "Catalogue of All My Works", and began to record the new compositions one by one. On the left page, he noted the title or some description of the piece, the completion date, and the orchestration. On the right page, he scribbled the first bars, as if they were "cue cards".

Mozart, pianist and composer
When Mozart settled in Vienna in 1781, he did so with the idea of working there as a pianist and composer. The most obvious way of performing both trades lay in the composition of piano concertos, a craft, needless to say, that Wolfgang Amadeus had mastered to perfection. He had already shown proof of this in the six concertos he had composed so far, in addition to the two composed for two and three pianos, not to mention those arrangements for piano and orchestra of movements by other composers. But when he settled in Vienna, and became engaged to be married shortly thereafter, the number of concertos written must have risen steadily. There was a family to support.

Twelve concertos in four years
Thus, in the 1782-83 season he composed three concertos. In 1784 he composed six, the highest point in his Viennese period. From there he drew strength to write another three in the 1785-86 season. But there the good streak ended, and in 1787 he composed none. He wrote one in 1788; none in 1789-90; and a last one in the year of his death. These simple statistics do not tell the whole story of the "pianist Mozart" for he performed many times as a pianist in premieres that did not feature premiere concerts; however, the small account tells us of his career as a pianist during the Viennese years.

Concerto No. 23 in A Major
Thanks to the remarkable Catalog idea, we know that Concerto No. 23 (K. 488) was completed on March 2, 1786. And we also know that the work was begun in 1784, when Mozart was at his best as a pianist in the Habsburg capital. At some point Mozart must have put the work aside (perhaps occupied by the composition of Le Nozze di Figaro), and only finished it in the late winter of 1786, when it was added to the catalog with the date already noted. Most probably, it was first performed a few days later in Vienna, with Mozart at the piano, of course.

Movements:
It is in three movements. The cadenza of the first of them belongs to Mozart. He left it written, something unusual for him.

00:00  Allegro / Joyful and lively, with a touch of melancholy.
11:17  Adagio / Passionately beautiful. His delightful theme was "borrowed" for an Air France advertisement some years ago.
18:31  Allegro assai / An exuberant rondo.

The rendition is by Maurizio Pollini, accompanied by the Vienna Philharmonic conducted by Karl Bohm.

Chopin, Étude Opus 25 No 2

When you are playing a little tired but are helped with the last three notes...

The twelve Etudes of Opus 25 constitute Chopin's second collection of piano etudes. Dedicated to Countess Marie d'Agoult, Liszt's companion during those years, they were completed between 1832 and 1836, and published in Paris in 1837. Shortly after, they will be published in Germany and England.
As we know, piano études are intended to develop the technique and skills of the budding pianist, and those of the virtuoso as well. Chopin's Études, in particular, fulfilled a long-awaited desire to combine this practical purpose with a high musical content.

To this achievement, in addition to the undoubted genius of the Polish master, the contribution of the 19th century piano, with its seven octaves, felt-covered hammers, and metal harp, capable of producing full and firm sounds in any dynamic, forte or piano, and of responding to expressive demands as well as to those of an overwhelming virtuosity, was no less important. Chopin and his genius arrived at the right moment.

First steps in Paris

By the time he composes Opus 12, Chopin is making his first steps in Paris, after leaving Warsaw in 1830, a city to which he would never return. He is the angel of the musical salons, celebrated by elegant ladies of the Parisian aristocracy and Polish nobles exiled after the occupation of Warsaw by Russian troops. But he has already made a name for himself, a great name. One day he is invited by the Rothschild family, another by a countess, and yet another by an ambassador. He lives from his private lessons, at 20 francs an hour. He has not yet met George Sand, who will suggest raising the price to 30 francs a lesson.

Etude No. 2 of Opus 25, in F minor
On his first tour to Vienna in 1829, Chopin was warmly greeted by the public, and the professional critics also spared no praise. The editor of the Allgemeine Musikalische Zeitung noted: "...the extraordinary delicacy of his touch, an indescribable technical perfection, his complete range of nuances, all reflecting the deepest feeling".

A minute and a half
It is precisely what is required to properly interpret this brief etude of just over a minute and a half in length. Like most of the etudes, it is written in binary form, A-B-A, that is, it contains a main theme that begins it, then a central section, and after that, the first theme is taken up again.

Little Emilie
The rendition is by Paul Barton, a British pianist who, apart from playing for blind elephants in Thailand, is a well-known YouTuber who gives tips for serious amateurs on his channel. On this occasion, he is accompanied by his little daughter, Emilie, fourteen months old, who intervenes at the end of the piece to delicately press the three C natural, pianissimo, with which this little gem ends.

Ravel, "Alborada del gracioso", from Miroirs Suite

The heritage he received from his Basque mother

Great was the surprise of Manuel de Falla when the summer of 1907 Maurice Ravel told him in Paris that the only link he had with Spain was having been born near the border. On the occasion, Ravel and his close friend the Catalan pianist Ricardo Viñes had played for him a four-hand version of his latest work, the famous Spanish Rhapsody.
De Falla was very astonished by the Spanish character of the piece and so he asked the question, and the answer surprised him even more. In fact, Ravel was born in the Lower Pyrenees, in Cibure, a small French commune that barely was part of France. His mother, a woman with an exquisite conversation, was of Basque origin and had spent her youth in Madrid. It was all due to his mother's heritage.

But the Rhapsody was not Ravel's first flirtation with Spanish airs. Nor would it be the last. Two years ago he had finished Miroirs, a suite for piano in five movements, the fourth section of which he entitled, in Spanish, Alborada del Gracioso. The five pieces are dedicated to five friends, all members of a group of artists, musicians, and poets who met under the name of Societé des Apaches, a term coined by the pianist Viñes to signify a brotherhood of marginalized or proscribed artists, or simply outcasts.

Ravel, in 1825 (1875 - 1937)

Ricardo Viñes was also the one who premiered Miroirs in 1906, at the Érard Hall in Paris. Later, at the request of Sergei Diaghilev, creator of the Russian ballets, Ravel orchestrated La Alborada... with great success; and it is thus, in its symphonic version, that it has become best known, but from time to time, a daring pianist boldly confronts La Alborada in an encore.

Alborada del Gracioso
The short play, of course, is written in the popular Spanish vein, and its very Spanish title deserves a few words. By "alborada", we mean a song at the hour of dawn, and "el gracioso" is the witty and sly character of the Spanish comedy theater of the Golden Age who winks at the spectator in search of his complicity.

In its seven-minute length, it demands considerable virtuosity. It is dedicated to the music critic M.D. Calvocoressi, who wrote of it with great admiration, noted it as "a great independent scherzo in the manner of Chopin or Balakirev... the humor and lively fantasy of La Alborada deserve the highest praise."

The rendition is by Ukrainian pianist Vitaly Pisarenko, winner of the 2008 Franz Liszt International Competition.

Chopin, Piano Concerto in E minor

Young Frédérick, looking for a teacher

When Chopin settled in Paris in 1831, six years had passed since the German-born pianist, teacher, and piano maker Friedrich Kalkbrenner had done the same. After a long period in London as a pianist and businessman, he arrived in the City of Light, the center of European musical activity at the time, with the label of "the best pianist in Europe", made up by himself. Twenty-one-year-old Chopin, a newcomer, came to him for advice and contacts. Kalkbrenner offered to make him an accomplished virtuoso within three years if he would take lessons with him.

Chopin, having a second thought
It is true that Chopin did not have a piano teacher until then. Those who gave him the basic tools were his teachers in Warsaw, but one was a violinist and the other a composer. So it is not surprising that he wrote enthusiastically to his parents and sisters that he intended to stay in Paris for "about three years," precisely the time frame suggested by Kalkbrenner. But his enthusiasm for his potential teacher waned as, with the weapons he already possessed, he dazzled those attending the Parisian soirées where he was invited to play. Finally, Chopin resigned Kalkbrenner's support but distinguished him with the dedication of his Concerto in E minor, when it was published in Paris in 1833.

Young Chopin, by Ary Scheffer

The second concerto
It was the second piano concerto Chopin wrote, but the first to be published. For this reason, the publisher assigned it No. 1. The first had been the Concerto in F minor, which would be published three years later, in 1836, and consequently designated as No. 2.
Both were composed in Warsaw, when Chopin was between 19 and 20 years old, and had their premiere on the occasion of the numerous soirees organized to bid farewell to the young virtuoso who was leaving Warsaw with the idea of being away for perhaps "about three years", but who would never return.

Concerto No. 1 in E minor, opus 11
There has been no lack, then or now, of opinions about the weakness, or the lack of ingenuity or brilliance of Chopin's orchestration. "Uninteresting", is the most common imputation. It happens that the young composer does not have as models the Beethovenian or Mozartian concerto, but those of his contemporaries, less notable (Hummel, Hiller, or Kalkbrenner himself), in which the piano is openly the protagonist, with the orchestra on a secondary plane, in charge of the initial exposition of the themes and of underlining the moments of great expressiveness in support of the soloist. What they all agree on is that piano writing is unparalleled.

Movements:
There are three, typical of the period:
00        Allegro maestoso
22:02  Romance. Larghetto
33:38  Rondo. Vivace

Olga Scheps performing live at Tonhalle Düsseldorf with the Chamber Orchestra of Polish Radio, conductor Agnieszka Duczmal.

J.S. Bach, "Musical Offering"

A personal present to Frederick II "The Great"

For seven years, Carl Philipp Emanuel, Bach's second son, had to put up with his patron's burdensome request to invite his father for being able to hear the old master live at the court in Potsdam. Back in 1740, Carl Philipp had arrived at the court of the King of Prussia, Frederick II The Great, so nicknamed because of his skills in the military arts (among other arts, such as playing the flute). From then on he was a court harpsichordist and chamber musician, poorly paid and phlegmatically exploited by Frederick, who had the habit of asking Carl Philipp for the obligatory accompaniment for the expression of his inner world, at any time of the day or night.

The 62-year-old father of modern harmony left Leipzig and finally arrived in Potsdam on May 7, 1747. Joyful, Frederick II the Great escorted the master through the corridors and rooms of the royal residence of Sanssouci, making him stop at every keyboard on the way, and inviting him to improvise a fugue on a theme that the king claimed as his own invention. Bach stayed there for two months in the company of his son and Frederick.

After returning to Leipzig, the master revisited Frederick's theme. He expanded it, added ideas to it, dressed it up in various forms, and dedicated the result to the monarch. He published it two months later.

"Musical Offering", BWV 1079
In its final form, the set of pieces consists of ten canons, a trio sonata (for flute –of course–, violin and basso continuo), and two ricercares (an old word for fugues). The work responds to a sort of obsession Bach had in the last decade of his life: the writing of cyclical works, on a large scale, where to explore exhaustively the contrapuntal possibilities of a brief and simple theme.

The master had already made brilliant forays into this in the Goldberg Variations of 1741-42. And at the time of the Offering, he was simultaneously working on The Art of the Fugue, his farewell act in this remarkable autumnal passion.

Frederick's response
The reception on Frederick's part seems, sadly, to have followed the fate of the Brandenburg Concertos. Frederick went off to war shortly after receiving the scores, and to this day it is unknown whether he loved them or not, or whether he ever played the sonata on his transverse flute, accompanied by Carl Philipp Emanuel, naturally.

Bach did not specify any instrumentation for the fugues and canons. It is customary to play them on keyboard instruments, but they can also be performed on other instruments. In 1935 they were orchestrated by the composer Anton Webern.

Ricercar at six – six-voice fugue
The complete performance of the work takes approximately one hour. Presented here is the eight-minute Ricercar a 6 (six-voice fugue) section, in a version by Israeli pianist Asaf Kleinman, on the maestro's birthday, which would have been 334 years old for the occasion.

Schubert, 8th Symphony, "Unfinished"

Little Franz, experiencing a creative block

Franz Schubert's Symphony in B minor is traditionally assigned the number 8 when it is actually number 7. And it is called the Unfinished Symphony because it has two movements, although there is nothing to suggest that Schubert had in mind to add a third one, to complete it. It was never premiered during the composer's lifetime and audiences only learned of it almost forty years after the death of little Franz. These considerations are part of the mystery surrounding the creation of this symphony, considered by scholars to be the first great romantic symphony.

The years 1818 to 1822-23 were critical for Franz, creatively, as well as intimately. In February 1818 he completed the Sixth Symphony and in 1822 he embarked on the Wanderer Fantasy. In those four years, little Franz, who was characterized by a certain tendency to procrastinate, began and abandoned a dozen major works, including, of course, the symphony now called "unfinished," begun in the fall of 1822 and abandoned in early November.

The little maestro began writing the symphony without a commission, without an immediate diffusion program and never mentioned it in his correspondence. Having written the first two movements, he sketched a trio and a scherzo on the back of the last page. And that was all. He never took up the work again. And clearly, he had only six years to live.

Franz Schubert (1797 - 1828)

The Challenge
The reasons for the abandonment have been widely discussed. On the one hand, a great disappointment of the composer is adduced, not being able to advance the sketches of the scherzo in a way that was on par with the two magnificent previous movements, already orchestrated. This was a Beethovenian challenge, the construction of a grand finale. It should not be forgotten that by those years the Bonn master had already written almost all of his symphonies, an achievement Schubert could not fail to notice.

The syphilis
At the end of 1822, on the other hand, little Franz contracted syphilis, an unglamorous disease accompanied by physical and emotional trauma. The disease completely incapacitated him, and that is when he gave up the task. By the spring of the following year, he had regained some of his strength. He was accepted as an honorary member of a musical society and sent the first two movements as a sign of recognition. The work was put away on a desk and soon forgotten. It languished there until 1860 when it was "rediscovered". It was finally premiered on December 18, 1865, in Vienna.

The AI contribution
In our time, having already started the 21st century, the newspapers inform us that a computer would have finished the unfinished symphony of the master Schubert. We will certainly have to see it, and hear it.

Symphony in B minor, No 8 - Movements
Surprisingly, its only two movements alone are enough to give the symphony the status of a masterpiece and make us forget the existence of any other fragment.

00:00  Allegro moderato - Its clearly romantic character made a famous musicologist say: "After a few bars of introduction, the clarinet and oboe begin in unison a sweet song over the soft murmur of the violins. A low exclamation runs through the hall: Schubert!"
18:06  Andante con moto - Here, the tempo and dynamic contrasts are more pronounced. Less violent and dramatic than the first, this movement is not yet without intimately tragic traits, which made another scholar, somewhat overdrawn perhaps, proclaim it "a premonition of the grave."

The performance is by the Frankfurt Radio Symphony Orchestra, under the baton of German conductor Christoph Eschenbach.

Charles Gounod: Funeral March of a Marionette

A reflection on the brevity and toils of life, even when you are a puppet

French composer Charles Gounod entered the Paris Conservatoire at 18, and by 21 he was on his way to Rome as a prizewinner of the coveted Prix de Rome. There he focused on 16th-century sacred music with such intensity that he considered becoming a priest. But in the end, music won out.

On his return to Paris, the composer met the mezzo-soprano Pauline Viardot, a renowned diva in the artistic circles, who secured the commission for his first opera, Sapho, from the Paris Opera. It was the beginning of his career as a composer of operas, with Faust and Romeo and Juliet, the most outstanding and for which he is remembered today, in addition to the most famous of the Ave Maria, the one built on the first prelude of Bach's Well-Tempered Clavier.

But the war was to come. Between 1870 and 1874 (well past age 50) Gounod lived in England, fleeing the upheavals of the Franco-Prussian war. While there, he composed a lot of music, mainly religious. But he also took the time to compose a short piece for piano, light natured, although, curiously, it is a funeral march.
In 1872, Gounod had begun writing a piano suite which he called Suite Burlesque, a satirical work intended to mock the personality of a music critic of the time. Gounod wrote the first piece, Funeral March of a Marionette, but the critic died, and Gounod abandoned the suite.

Charles Gounod cartoon, 1879
(1818 - 1893)

The revival, through Hitchcock
Later, aware of its popularity, Gounod orchestrated it in 1879. Others made arrangements of it for various instruments. In the first half of the 20th century, it was recorded many times, incorporated into the cinema, and used as a musical curtain in several radio programs, and later, on television.
According to Alfred Hitchcock, he heard it for the first time in a 1927 film. He loved it, and thirty years later, he incorporated it as a theme song in his television series "Alfred Hitchcock Presents", which began in 1955. From that appearance, the little work acquired great popularity, although no one could identify its author, a similar experience to the overture to Rossini's Guglielmo Tell, made known to the general public by the series "The Lone Ranger".

Funeral March for a Marionette
The little piece, barely five minutes in length, has never lost its charm, and also tells a story:
The marionette has died in a duel held with another member of the puppet troupe, and the funeral procession begins in the direction of the cemetery, in a march rhythm, of course. As the piece progresses, the music takes on a more cheerful character because some members of the procession, exhausted by the march, seek relief at an inn on the road where they have a drink, commenting on the many virtues of the deceased. After a while, they rejoin the procession, which is already entering the cemetery, once again in marching time. The final closing of the gates, later, invites a reflection on the brevity and toils of life, even when you are a puppet.

The performance is by the Orquesta Sinfónica del Principado de Asturias, conducted by Óliver Díaz.

Remembering Glenn Gould - Bach's Goldberg Variations

 
According to one of Bach's first biographers, one autumn day in 1740, the Russian diplomat Count Karl von Keyserling appeared at Bach's house in Leipzig on a surprise visit. He was accompanied by his young personal keyboardist, a fourteen-year-old boy named Johann Gottlieb Goldberg, whom he intended to leave there to be instructed by the master. The count told Bach that he was ill and suffered from insomnia. Goldberg, who lived in the count's house, was to spend the night in the antechamber so that he would play for him if he woke up in the middle of the night after having fallen asleep listening to him. The Count also hinted that he could use some very varied variations, some quiet and calm, others a little more vivid. They would certainly alleviate his long sleepless nights.

Johann Sebastian accepted the commission, for which he was generously compensated: a golden cup full of gold louis, one hundred, to be exact. (To give us an idea of the amount, one hundred years later, one gold louis will be equivalent to twenty francs, the sum Chopin charged for his piano lessons).

The count never tired of the variations and took to calling them my variations. Following the aforementioned biographer, every sleepless night meant only one thing to young Goldberg: that the count's request reached his ears, "Dear Goldberg, please play one of my variations for me."

The Variations, in modern times
As with many of Bach's works, the Goldberg Variations were forgotten for almost two centuries. They were first performed in modern times by the Polish harpsichordist Wanda Landowska in 1933. From then on, the versions multiplied and, despite their high technical demands, in the second half of the 20th century they were part of the discography of a good number of pianists of our time.

A legendary recording was made in 1955 by the Canadian pianist Glenn Gould, a challenge he took up again in 1981. His versions, splendid, were never free of controversy because Gould was a brilliant pianist as well as controversial and somewhat extravagant ideas.

Glenn Gould (1932 - 1982)

Gould, an enfant terrible
Gould was born in Toronto in 1932. First, his mother taught him, then came the Royal Conservatory, and when he began to give concerts he did so as a complete and integral artist. His repertoire was somewhat particular, he could include Beethoven, of course (his last sonatas), but from there he would jump to Berg and Webern. He thought Chopin had not been a good composer, nor did he like Mozart. He claimed to have "a gap of a century bounded by The Art of Fugue on the one hand and Tristan and Isolde on the other; everything in between is a cause more for admiration than love."

The chair, a legend
The stool he used was a chair, which left him in front of the piano with his chin almost at keyboard height, and the one he moved to all his concerts. He liked to pout while he played, kept the beat with his free hand and hummed the melody, while balancing on his chair that allowed him to sit exactly fourteen inches off the floor. How much of that was genuine and how much was aimed at publicity purposes is unknown. By the same token, he had fanatical admirers as well as determined detractors.

Bach, a new approach
What is unquestionable is the expression of his outstanding musical personality. His recordings were a revelation to many. Gould exhibited a combination of personality, delicacy, charming rhythm and technical assurance that signified a new approach to Bach interpretation. His ability to separate contrapuntal lines and give each its proper weight was extraordinary. With Gould, you hear everything.

However, his concert career lasted only nine years. When he retired from the stage, Gould turned to recording. A heart attack cut short his new path. He died in 1982. He was only fifty years old.

Goldberg Variations, in G - BWV 988
This is one of the few works published during Bach's lifetime, in 1741. It consists of an aria and a set of 30 variations. As stated on the original title page, it is "exercises for keyboard consisting of an aria and several variations for harpsichord for two manual keyboards". (Let us note that on the piano, with its single keyboard, the work becomes somewhat more difficult). ) In live performances it is customary to reprise the initial aria at the end, in a shorter version, as if to remind the listener of where it all came from, although the variations do not rest on the initial melodic theme (a sarabande, in 3/4 rhythm) but on the bass line and the harmonic progression.

Theme and five variations
The complete work lasts ninety minutes if all repetitions are observed. The version presented here contains the aria and variations 1 to 5, from the 1981 recording, which was also Gould's last recording.

Béla Bartók, Piano Concerto No 3

 "It is a pity that I have to leave with a full suitcase" 

The last of the three piano concertos by the Hungarian composer Béla Bartók was composed in 1945 in New York, where he had arrived in October 1940, fleeing the Nazi barbarism in the company of his wife, Ditta Pasztory. The Concerto is dedicated to her as a birthday present. On the last page of the score, the composer noted, in Hungarian, the word vége (end). It was the last thing he wrote. That same night he was taken from his apartment on 57th Street to a hospital on the west side of Manhattan, where he died four days later, on September 26, 1945. He was 64.

In the States
The last five years of his life were spent in the United States. They were not particularly productive years. Nor were they happy ones. The first two years he wrote nothing and from 1942 onwards his health suddenly weakened, then worsened and the maestro seemed unable to recover. But in May 1943, a Russian conductor's commission of a Concerto for Orchestra brought him back to life. The music flowed again, until 1945, the year that marked a high point. Unfortunately, there was little time left.

Béla Barók (1881 - 1945)

Saying goodbye with a full suitcase
For the first time in years, Bartók worked on two significant pieces simultaneously: the Viola Concerto and the Third Piano Concerto. And when he left his apartment for the last time he had a new string quartet in draft form and was considering a commission for a concerto for two pianos requested by a pair of pianists.
This resurgence of such activity was likely motivated by an awareness of his failing health. It is said that when he arrived at the hospital he would have said: "It is a pity that I have to leave with a full suitcase".

Piano Concerto No. 3, in E major
Unlike his two previous concertos, Concerto No. 3 does not demand of the performer superb virtuosity. Nor does it exhibit a notorious modernism but rather a strong adherence to traditional models and forms. Even the Hungarian melodic and rhythmic elements, while present, are less pronounced than in the previous concertos.
A warm, melodic, and popularly appealing work.
It premiered on February 8, 1946, with György Sándor at the piano accompanied by the Philadelphia Orchestra conducted by Eugene Ormandy.

Movements:
00:00  Allegretto
08:10  Adagio religioso
17:40  Allegro vivace

The performance is by the Hungarian pianist András Schiff, accompanied by the Hallé Orchestra (Manchester-based symphony orchestra) conducted by Sir Mark Elder.

Albéniz: "Evocación", from Iberia Suite

The little pianist who once toured the world

In 1893, Isaac Albéniz had long since stopped partying and had finally settled down. Settled in Paris, he enjoyed the sympathy of the Parisians and was a close friend of Dukas and Fauré. It was then that he stopped playing the piano in front of an audience. At the end of his life, he had composed a handful of interesting pieces, and a hundred or so pleasant and beautiful "salon pieces", but most of them today are forgotten. But in the last four years of his life, he devoted himself to work on a series of highly complex and significant piano pieces that assured him immortality. They were published in four notebooks under the title "Iberia".

Born in 1860 in a town in Catalonia, Isaac Albéniz made his debut as a pianist at the age of four. Three years later, he was writing his first compositions. With such an astonishing start, it should not be surprising that at the age of nine, he was playing for the audience of the Casino de El Escorial. The occasion arose from one of his typical escapades from the family home. He took a train in any direction, and on the way he met the manager of the Casino who, curious, invited him to play for his guests, but the next day the manager left him sitting on another train with the commitment to return home. Isaac left the train two stations further and took another one in the opposite direction.

Isaac Albéniz (1860 - 1909)

Touring the world
It was the first of the great adventures of the child genius, the Spanish Rubinstein, as he would later be called. Three years after his foray to the Escorial, he hid on a ship and ended up playing in Puerto Rico. Similar escapades took him to Buenos Aires, Cuba, San Francisco, and New York.

Back in Europe
At the age of thirteen, he returned to Europe and took private lessons in Leipzig. Then a grant from the Spanish government allowed him to enter the Brussels Conservatory, which, as expected, he left soon after. In 1878 he got Liszt to listen to him. He was the teacher with whom he finished his formal studies. After that, it was all about success in half of Europe.

The Iberia Suite
The collection is made up of twelve pieces distributed in four notebooks with three pieces each. The complete work lasts about an hour and a half; each piece (except for the first one) describes a certain region of Spain, and hence its title (it could not be called Spain since there were two recent works with that title –one by Chabrier, from 1883).

The complete work is made up of the following pieces:
Cuaderno 1: Evocación - El Puerto - Corpus en Seville
Cuaderno 2: Rondeña - Almeria - Triana
Cuaderno 3: El Albaicín - El Polo - Lavapies
Cuaderno  4: Málaga - Jerez - Eritaña

Composed between 1904 and 1909 (the year of the composer's death), it is considered the most important work of Spanish piano literature. Enrique Granados did not spare the praise: "...I want everyone to play it, forgive me if many of you burst it, but this is a way to tell you that I like it with delirium", he wrote in a letter to Albéniz.

Suite Iberia - Book I - "Evocación" (Evocation)
Evocación is the first of the three pieces in Book I, a sort of introduction to the complete suite. It does not evoke, then, a particular Spanish region but rather delivers images of the peninsula in general.

Serene and tranquility in the outer sections, a passionate central piece provides the necessary contrast. A delicate exoticism permeates the work throughout.

The rendition is by Spanish pianist Luis Fernando Pérez.

Beethoven, Sonata No. 18, "The Hunt"

A cheerful work before the storm

With the exception of its lively finale, Beethoven's Piano Sonata No. 18 is a quiet, rather cheerful work, which does not at all convey bitterness or gloom. Written in 1802, its frolicsome character in no way reveals that a few months later the master would radically change his mood, to sit down and write to his two brothers, sharing with them all his torments in the letter we know today as the famous Heiligenstadt Testament:

"Alas, how could I proclaim the lack of a sense which I should possess in a higher degree than any other? [...] I am estranged from amusement... from the pleasure of conversation, from the effusions of friendship.... [...] Such circumstances have brought me to the verge of despair [...] Patience, so I have been told. This must be my guide. [...]

The letter ends with a heartbreaking plea, "O Providence, grant me at least a single day of sincere joy!"

We know the letter was never sent. It was discovered among his belongings after his death in 1827, together with the letters to the Immortal Beloved.
Of course, Beethoven was deeply affected by his deafness and he was not in Heiligenstadt by chance but on the recommendation of his doctor to "rest his ear". But at the same time, the maestro was aware that he had to embark on a new path, tackling new forms of musical expression. "I am not satisfied with what I have done so far," Beethoven remarked in a letter to a friend shortly before the appearance of the Sonata No. 18, according to Karl Czerny. 

The new paths
In the Sonata, according to Czerny himself, "one can trace the partial fulfillment of his new purpose". Indeed, later would come the portentous Waldstein and Appassionata sonatas (both 1804) to fully implement the master's resolution of 1802.

The sonata was published in 1804 without an opus number. It would later be incorporated into Opus 31. Interestingly, the work was not dedicated to any nobleman, nor was it dedicated to anyone else. The piece has no dedication.

Piano Sonata No. 18, Opus 31 No. 3, in E flat major - "The Hunt"
This is the third and last of the three sonatas of Opus 31 (the second being the most popular, The Tempest sonata, and the first the most "classical" - a characteristic, the latter, not well regarded by some scholars).
It is also known as "The Hunt" because of its last movement, which contains a theme reminiscent of a hunting call by trumpets or horns. The nickname, of course, only applies to this movement (just as "Moonlight" only applies to the first movement of the same moniker's sonata).

As on several previous occasions (six, exactly), Beethoven structured the piece in four movements, opting for a scherzo and a minuet instead of the usual adagio.

Movements:
00:00  Allegro
08:31  Scherzo. Allegretto vivace
13:22  Menuetto: Moderato e grazioso
17:48  Presto con fuoco

The rendition is by the Argentine-Israeli (also Spanish and Palestinian) maestro Daniel Barenboim.

Vivaldi, "La Stravaganza" - Concerto No 4

A small taste of the most stimulating baroque string music

Although he temporarily abandoned his functions when he felt like it (or was asked to), Antonio Vivaldi (1678 - 1741) remained as Concert Director of the Ospedale della Pietá for almost forty years. In that position, he produced much of his work, especially that devoted to concertos for solo instruments and orchestra, because at the Ospedale he had hundreds of girls in abandonment dedicated to the study of music. Among them he could choose the most brilliant ones to go on concert tours throughout Europe when the opportunity arose.

The most notable works in the genre are contained in the famous collections L'estro armonico and Il cimento dell'armonia e dell'inventione (whose first four concertos are popularly known as The Four Seasons). The collection "La Stravaganza" ranks on a slightly lesser level.

La Stravaganza
It is a collection of twelve concertos for violin, strings, and basso continuo, although some of them incorporate a second violin or a cello. They were written between the years 1712-13, that is, they are almost ten years before The Four Seasons, of 1723. But they anticipate a "familiar air"... Hence some scholars argue that the 400 concertos for orchestra and solo instrument that the maestro wrote are very similar. It is a gigantic production, of course. And that the master wrote fast, no doubt, but from there to claiming that Vivaldi wrote the same concerto four hundred times, there is a long way to go. The set of twelve concertos La Stravaganza is today, a gift of an hour and a half of the most stimulating baroque string music.

The Stravaganza Op. 4 Concerto No. 4, in A minor
The twelve concertos were published in 1716 in Amsterdam, and are dedicated to Victor Delfin, a Venetian nobleman who had been Vivaldi's pupil. The dedication exudes great respect and consideration, as it should, but the master does not skimp on his own titles:

"Concerti consacrati a Sua Eccellenza il Signor Vettor Delfino, nobile veneto, da Don Antonio Vivaldi, Musico di Violino, e Maestro de Concerti del Pio Ospitale della Pietá di Venetia."

We are presenting here Concerto No. 4, in a rendition by the Orquestra Barroca conducted by maestro Luís Otávio Santos, on the violin.

Movements:
0:00  Allegro
3:17  Grave e sempre piano
6:05  Allegro

Franz Liszt: "Funerailles", for piano

Martha Argerich, 1977 recording

In 1849, the slender and handsome Franz Liszt was 38 years old. A year earlier he had abandoned his career as a concert pianist at the suggestion of his life companion, Princess Carolyne, who urged him to compose, after their union. Gone were the years when he toured Europe reaping applause, the affection of his audience, and something more. The ladies attending his "recitals" (a soloist presentation, invented by himself in 1840) fainted, the most demure ones. The others pulled each other's hair out to get hold of the handkerchief that the maestro had carelessly forgotten on the piano cover.
But none of that occupied now the master's days.

The maestro was in Weimar, teaching, conducting court concerts, and composing, besides his princess. He led a peaceful life, but in Europe, the winds of revolution were blowing, which would eventually be crushed, of course. One of these uprisings affected him personally. Two of his friends were killed and another went into exile for ten years, after the crushing of the Hungarian Revolution of 1848, one of the many European revolutions of that year and the next.

Funerailles, one of the fourteen pieces that make up the Poetic and Religious Harmonies collection, was written in homage to these unfortunate friends. It is the most famous of the series.

Franz Liszt (1811 - 1886), in 1847

A tribute to Chopin?
The work has a subtitle: "October 1849".
For some time, some commentators saw in it a tribute by Liszt to his friend Chopin, who died on the 17th of that month and year.
But Liszt himself denied this assertion. He assured that he did not think of Chopin at all, although, for any moderately educated listener, the work contains a couple of pieces that recall the central part of the Polonaise Heroique, including the frenetic octaves of the left hand... How could it not be?

Funerailles, for piano - Poetic Harmonies No 7
The piece lasts about ten minutes. It is made up of four sections, with three main themes that are repeated throughout the work.

00:00  Introduction
02:02  After a pause, a funeral march, which modulates into an unexpected section marked "lagrimoso" at 04:04.
06:14  Heroic war march that grows in intensity (with a diabolical left hand in octaves), until reaching the conclusion.
07:30  Conclusion. The three themes are reintroduced, with greater emphasis. But now the war march will be abruptly interrupted by some piano chords, in very marked staccato, with which the piece ends.

The rendition is by the remarkable Argentine pianist Martha Argerich, in a 1977 recording.

Muzio Clementi, Piano Concerto

Clementi, pianist, and piano-maker

The composer, pianist, pedagogue, conductor, music publisher, proofreader, and piano maker Muzio Clementi was born in Rome but spent most of his life in England. He was taken there at the age of fourteen by a wealthy British Member of Parliament, Sir Peter Beckford, after convincing the family that the boy exuded talent and that he could lead his genius to levels of excellence under his tutelage. For many years, Muzio devoted eight or more hours a day to the harpsichord when he did not have to please Sir Peter at the soirees that the eccentric parliamentarian organized regularly at the family estate in Wiltshire; the hours of study lost at each event were made up the next day by the young Clementi applying himself to the harpsichord for twelve or fourteen hours.

Clementi & Company
Thus, the young musician who made his debut in London in 1773, at twenty-one, was an exceptionally skilled harpsichordist who soon exchanged the harpsichord for the pianoforte. This instrument captivated him to such a degree that in the middle of his life, he abandoned recitals to become a partner in a piano factory that ended up bearing his name, Clementi & Company. This successful venture transformed his life forever. If he ever left London for the continent, it was to show his virtuosity on the pianoforte and, incidentally, the virtues of the instrument he made. Muzio Clementi died rich in 1832 after a thirty-year career as a pianist and pedagogue and a twenty-five-year career as a music entrepreneur.

Muzio Clementi (1752 - 1832)

Mozarts' opinion
But this remarkable pianist of the late 18th century was not everyone's cup of tea. Mozart liked him even less. We know of the competition between the two at the court of Joseph II, which the emperor saw fit to declare a "draw" in January 1781. A gentleman's challenge. However, in a letter to his sister Nannerl the following year, Mozart did not hesitate to describe Clementi as a "charlatan, like all Italians." The question arises: why so much bitterness?

Thrilling the audience

Till before Beethoven came along, Clementi far surpassed all his contemporary colleagues, including Mozart, at least in front of audiences, in piano technique. Mozart received the respect of all professionals. Mozart was the noble and serious musician. Clementi would agitate and thrill his audience as Wolfgang never could. Along with this, students and professionals of the time studied his sonatas and sonatinas with the utmost dedication and respect. Also, his only piano concerto, of an unconventional genesis one.

Piano Concerto in C major
It was composed sometime before 1793 (Mozart had died two years earlier), but the modern orchestration belongs to another composer, Johann Baptist Schenk, who gave it instrumental form around 1796.
Two years earlier, Clementi had revised the concerto and, not satisfied with the original orchestration, condensed the piece to reduce it to a simple sonata, the Sonata in C major, Opus 33-3, probably making it easier to demand. Then. Schenk stepped in and reorchestrated it to his liking, with Clementi's permission.
Clementi probably wrote other concertos that he later transformed into sonatas, but this is the only one that has survived, thanks – in part, of course – to Schenk.

Movements:
00:00  Allegro con spirit
09:35  Adagio cantabile con grande espressione
16:49  Presto

The performance is by Italian pianist and musicologist Pietro Spada, accompanied by The Philharmonia Orchestra, conducted by the late Italian conductor Francesco d'Avalos.

J.S. Bach: Mass in B minor - Kyrie Eleison

The beginning of a monumental sacred work
From his post as Kantor in Leipzig, Johann Sebastian Bach long entertained the idea of applying to His Lord for a courtly title. But Frederick Augustus I, known as the Strong One, had little time to answer the notes of footmen because he was busy making love to damsels and bearing children (a brood that numbered more than the days in a year, hence his nickname). So, he simply waited, because sooner or later so much virility would have to affect the health of the monarch who finally left this world at the age of 63, in February 1733. He was succeeded by his son who, as expected, was named Frederick Augustus II. To him are addressed these restrained words, written in the handwriting of Johann Sebastian Bach:

"With the greatest devotion I present to your Royal Highness this little fruit of that skill which I have attained in the science of music, with the humblest request that you will deign to consider it not according to the imperfection of its composition, but with the most clement of eyes...and thus take me under your most powerful protection."

Bach accompanied his humble request with the offering of a "missa brevis" which, as you may have guessed, is a short mass, consisting of only two pieces of the traditional Christian liturgy: Kyrie Eleison and Gloria. They were composed during the six months of national mourning for the death of the monarch during which the public performance of music was forbidden. As the monarch was a Catholic and Bach a Lutheran, nothing was more suitable for the sacred homage than a mass, a common territory of the two doctrines, although built on the Latin texts of the Catholic liturgy.

Mass in B minor, for soloists, choirs, and orchestra
If Bach had six months for the offering, the complete Mass took the rest of his life. In 1749, a year before his death, the King's Court Composer (a title given in 1736) finished the remaining sections of the work that would become known as Mass in B minor, a timeless interdenominational work, which his son Carl Philipp Emanuel would call the "Great Catholic Mass," and which the Western world would cherish as the greatest musical construction of all time,

Sections
The work contains 27 "movements" (if the subsections or subparts are considered as such). But not all of them were written especially to integrate the mass. A good part of them are "parodies", that is, already existing original material, rewritten and given a new dimension.

The complete performance of the mass takes almost two hours, which made it difficult to perform in a traditional liturgy, whether Catholic or Lutheran. It is very likely, then, that Bach himself never heard the complete work. The first complete performance that can be attested to took place only in 1859, in Leipzig.

Kyrie eleison 1 - Chorus
The section called "Kyrie eleison" is the heart-wrenching chant that begins the work. It is a plea, in three parts, addressed once to Christ and twice to the Lord, with the English equivalent of: "Lord, have mercy".  It does not reach ten minutes in duration but it is the beginning of the greatest musical legacy of the Leipzig Kantor, a monumental sacred work that managed to transcend linguistic, confessional, and even territorial boundaries. Since 2015, Bach's Mass in B-flat has been part of the Documentary Heritage of Humanity.

The rendition is by the English Baroque Soloists and the Monteverdi Choir, conducted by the British maestro Sir John Eliot Gardiner.

Beethoven, Sonata for cello and piano No 1 Yo-Yo Ma - Emanuel Ax

During May and July 1796, Beethoven was in Berlin during a concert tour in the company of Prince Lichnowsky (before they became disaffected after the prince asked Beethoven to play for his guests, French officers, in 1806).
There in Berlin, the maestro began the composition of several important works for cello and piano, among which stand out the Variations for cello and piano in G major on a work by Handel, and the valuable two Sonatas of Opus 5, dedicated to Frederick William II, King of Prussia, who apart from ruling Prussia and a few other territories, played the cello without disturbing anyone.

The "first cello"
For the time, the composition of sonatas for cello and piano had no precedent. There were no models from which to take inspiration, in the works of Haydn or Mozart. Only very recently had the instrument begun to free itself from its traditional role of basso continuo. So the court orchestra of Frederick William II, King of Prussia, had a cellist who played, quite appropriately, the role of "first cello." His name was Jean-Pierre Duport (1741 - 1818). He was Frederick William's teacher, and for him, for Jean-Pierre, the two Sonatas of Opus 5 were written, and premiered in Berlin in May or June 1796, with Beethoven at the piano.

The little snuff box
Both sonatas were published in Vienna in February 1797. As was his custom, the Bonn master sought to dedicate the work to an influential person who was in a position to repay him in some way for his work. On the occasion, the honor fell to Frederick William II, who rewarded Beethoven with a snuff box filled with gold Louis, each equivalent to twenty francs. (Thirty years later, Chopin would charge that amount for his lessons.) It remains to be seen how much gold Louis fit in the little box, but it seems to be not a stingy gift.

Sonata for cello and piano No. 1 in F major op. 5 - Movements
Cello and piano. For these instruments the sonatas are written, and in that order. That is, we understand that the soloist is the cello. However, the piano assumes here a voice of similar prominence; quite a novelty, but well, the author is a pianist.

Sonata No. 1 has only two movements, lasting approximately 25 minutes.

00:00  Adagio sostenuto - Allegro: A slow introduction, in the style of Haydn's symphonies, precedes the main theme, the allegro.

18:26  Rondo. Allegro vivace: A rondo in 6/8, much lighter in character than the first movement, with almost humorous passages, very appropriate for each performer to display his or her ease with the instrument.

On the cello, a young Yo-Yo Ma (a cellist born in Paris of Chinese descent).
At the piano, another young man, Maestro Emanuel Ax (American born in Ukraine).

Chopin, Mazurka in D major, op 33

As a respite from the great forms explored by Beethoven and his contemporaries, the first half of the 19th century witnessed the emergence of new musical forms with a more reserved, intimate character, usually destined for the fashionable instrument in the homes of the rising middle class, the piano. As never before, these miniatures allowed the exploration of an idea, a feeling, or an emotion in a short time of two or three minutes. Amidst preludes, nocturnes, and impromptus, Chopin's mazurkas, of Polish ancestry, also made their way, triumphant, into the Paris salons of the 1830s.

Three Polish folk dances merge in Chopin's mazurka: the obereck, the kujawiak, and the mazur, from which it takes its name. With a 3/4 rhythm, they can be sung, danced to, or sung while dancing, without neglecting that the accents will go on the weak beats of the measure, usually on the second, a requirement of the dance choreography. The themes are mostly his own, Chopin's own because even when the melodies are reminiscent of popular tunes, they respond mainly to the inventiveness of the Polish genius. Chopin brought popular dance to the salons but stylized and transformed into a new and unique genre.

The mazurkas of Opus 33
Throughout his life, Chopin wrote 57 mazurkas, the first at the age of fourteen, the last in the last year of his life. Four of them, in different keys, make up Opus 33, dedicated to Miss Róza Mostowska, probably a pupil, we do not know, but certainly, a lady belonging to the circles of exiled Polish aristocrats for whom literature, poetry, and music are matters of the utmost importance.

1838, the year Chopin was in danger
In one of these salons, in the late autumn of 1836, Chopin met George Sand. The master is still mourning Maria Wodzinska, but Sand is patient and wants nothing more than to come to understand with all her soul this pale and complex being, her Chopinski. In October 1838, she takes him to Majorca, on a curious "family" vacation. What will come of it all? Never mind, along with other pieces, the mazurkas of Opus 33 have just gone to press in Leipzig.

Mazurka in D major, Opus 33 No 2
According to scholars, an undeniable "Oberek". Marked "vivace", it is an elegant and impetuous piece, joyously rhythmic and joyful, an A-B-A scheme, with almost comically irregular accents, in its just under three minutes duration. A little gem, the most popular of the series.

The rendition, remarkable, is by the young American pianist Ruta Kuzmickas.

K. Szymanowski, Violin Concerto No 1

Karol Szymanowski was born in 1882 in Tymoszówka, then under the tutelage of the Russian Empire, but before that, part of the former kingdom of Poland. Throughout his life, the author strongly supported Polish music, and as a just recognition in 1926, he acceded to the post of director of the Warsaw Conservatory. However, in his last days, he complained bitterly about the neglect and isolation in which Polish cultural circles had kept him, most likely because of his sexual orientation. But, at the same time, he dared to predict that despite all this, his funeral should be magnificent.

The composer died of tuberculosis in Lausanne, Switzerland, in 1937 and agreed to not one but two funerals. One in Warsaw, of a "republican" character, and the other in Krakow, where he was buried in a church in the sector destined for distinguished Poles.

Szymanowski was born into a golden cradle. His parents, wealthy landowners, maintained a family environment open to the artistic world. He received his first piano lessons from his father at the age of seven, while his brothers dabbled in painting and poetry. In 1901 he entered the Warsaw Conservatory to study composition. After publishing his first works, he traveled extensively in Europe and beyond, going as far as North Africa, gaining rich life and musical experiences. A brief stay in Paris helped to cement his admiration for Debussy and the French impressionist school. His name was becoming known. Everything was going wonderfully. Until the war came.

Karol Szymanowski
(1882 - 1937)

Working in bad times
The family – the composer included – was forced to remain isolated in their Tymoszówka estate during all those years. The war ended, but there was no respite because then the Bolshevik revolution broke out. The family had to sell their property under disadvantageous conditions, and resettle elsewhere, in a nearby town, which soon fell under Austrian occupation.

Against all odds, in addition to an enormous flow of short pieces, between 1914 and 1918 the composer produced his most important masterpieces, including his Third Symphony, several string quartets, and by the way, the First Violin Concerto.

Concerto for Violin and Orchestra No 1, Opus 35
Dated 1916 but not premiered until 1922, the work lasts approximately 25 minutes, delivered in one unbroken breath. It is not a traditional work, certainly, and its single movement signals as much: a canvas of interwoven themes, perhaps in a new but equally fascinating way. It is commendable, indeed, that the author has been able to create such enchantment in dark and highly complex moments.

The performance is by the Scottish violinist Michael Foyle accompanied by the Rotterdam Philharmonic Orchestra, under the direction of the Venezuelan conductor Rafael Payare, on the occasion of a violin competition in Holland, where the performer was awarded the First Prize (the video includes the award ceremony).