Maurice Jarré, "Lawrence of Arabia" - soundtrack

The French composer Maurice Jarre was far from being a child prodigy as his interest in music came to him a little late. Shortly before turning 20, he discovered that he did like music and that he could pursue a career on it. And like any self-respecting composer, child prodigy or not, he had to face and overcome the opposition of his family to enter the Paris Conservatory, where he studied composition, harmony and percussion after abandoning engineering studies at La Sorbonne.

He made his debut as a musician at 22 in the company of the composer and conductor Pierre Boulez. 
Pierre was at the piano and Maurice on the "Martenot waves", an electronic instrument invented in 1928 by the French composer and engineer Maurice Martenot. Five years later, he was asked by film director Georges Franju to compose the soundtrack for a 23-minute documentary, Hotel des Invalides. The work did not launch him to fame but helped him to forge a name as a composer of film music. It will be followed by two more films in communion with Franju, the last one in 1960 for his most memorable film, Les yeux sans visage (Eyes without a face).

Maurice Jarre (1924 - 2009)

The next year, Maurice's career would take a spectacular turn. The Polish producer Sam Spiegel engaged him to compose the soundtrack for a David Lean film that turned out to be nothing more and nothing less than Lawrence of Arabia, an epic film telling the story of a quirky English hero, Thomas Edward Lawrence, who from his position as an intelligence officer, led the Arab revolt against the Turks during the First World War. Maurice Jarre (1924 - 2009)

His involvement in the movie earned him an Oscar. Then a second job with Lean emerged, Doctor Zhivago. From then on, Maurice would compose the soundtrack for all David Lean films, being awarded two more Oscar.

Until his death in 2009, Maurice Jarre collaborated as a soundtrack composer in countless films, among which, to name a few, stand out The Collector, by William Wilder, Jesus of Nazareth, by Zefirelli, and The Tin Drum. In the eighties, using electronic means he wrote the complete score for the movie The Year of Living Dangerously.

In the opinion of the American composer Aaron Copland, music composed for films constitutes a new musical medium capable of exerting a fascination of its own. It is not opposed to concert, symphonic or chamber music, but rather constitutes a new form of dramatic music, as traditionally was, and still is, that written for opera, ballet or theater. Copland closes the corresponding chapter of his remarkable outreach work "What to listen for in music" with this striking suggestion to the reader:

"Next time you go to the movies, don't stop siding with the composer."

An abstract of the complete Lawrence of Arabia soundtrack is presented here (don't forget the film lasts almost four hours) in the rendition of the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra under the baton of its author, Maurice Jarré.

Paganini, Violin Concerto No 1

The popular idol of the 19th century, Niccolo Paganini, made his debut in Parma at the age of fifteen. Later on, accompanied by his father, he would tour the Lombardy region offering concerts and increasing his fame with his brilliant performances and the infernal virtuosity that used to accompany each of them. Not by chance, then, before turning twenty, the distinguished violinist achieved his financial independence, a circumstance that altogether with both his youth and charisma would make him fond of the game and of course, romantic adventures.

But the costly lifestyle that his talent allowed him to lead was not an obstacle since between 1801 and 1807 he devoted himself to the composition of his first great works, which would forever revolutionize the violin technique. Combining the enjoyment of life with intense work did emerge his best known and most performed work to date, the set of 24 Capriccios for solo violin, and the two sets of six sonatas for violin and guitar. Ten years later he would compose his first violin concerto.

Niccolo Paganini (1782 - 1840)

The conquest of Europe
After leaving his post as music director at the principality of Lucca and Piombino serving Princess Elisa Bonaparte (Napoleon's sister), he set about touring Italy offering recitals with his own works. Many years went on before he decided to conquer Europe which, it seemed, was waiting for him. In 1828 he gave his first recital in Vienna to great acclaim. Three years later, performances in Paris and London kept on with stunning results. The following year, he visited England and Scotland. Upon returning from that four-year tour, Niccolo settled in Paris in 1833. He was fifty-one, and a wealthy man.

Retirement
Perhaps for this reason, soon after he decided to retire from the stage. In 1834 he simultaneously left Paris and the concert career. But two years later he returned to the City of Lights as an entrepreneur, to open a casino, the Paganini Casino, a business in which he invested a large part of his fortune with disastrous results. The entrepreneurship closed its doors just two months after its opening.

The legend
The incredible virtuosity of Paganini was attributed in his time to a pact with the devil or to hidden deals with beings from beyond the grave, to which his almost cadaverous countenance and a somber image contributed valiantly. Legend has it that Niccolo's music came from the soul of beautiful-voiced women he held captive inside his violin.

Concerto for Violin and Orchestra No. 1
Composed around 1817-18, Concerto No. 1 astonished audiences and critics at its premiere for its brilliance and demanding virtuosity. It is in three movements and lasts about thirty-five minutes. The first movement, as well as the last, show the incredible technical ability that Paganini surely possessed. The second movement is brimming with elegant melodies and moments of great beauty.

00:00  Allegro maestoso

20:35  Adagio espressivo

25:42  Rondo. Allegro spiritoso

The rendition is by the young maestro Ruifeng Lin, accompanied by the Harbin Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Benjamin Yusupov.

Lorenzo Fernández, "Batuque"

 

Although Heitor Villa-Lobos, his countryman, was ten years his senior, the assert claiming that the Brazilian composer Oscar Lorenzo Fernández was an absolute contemporary of Villa-Lobos is quite legitimate since Fernández also died ten years earlier. But, apart from having seen the same world, their life and musical biography are quite different.

The composer was born in Rio de Janeiro in 1897. He did his musical studies at the National Institute of Music and in 1936 he founded the Conservatorio Brasileiro de Música, which he lead until his death in 1948. Despite having composed a ballet, symphonies, two suites for orchestra and more than 80 compositions for piano, Oscar Lorenzo Fernández is mainly remembered today for an Afro-Brazilian piece plenty of great rhythmic and musical richness, "Batuque".

"Reisado do Pastoreio" Suite
From his opera Malazarte, previously composed with a libretto extracted from a play, Fernández set aside three pieces in 1941 to build a suite he called Reisado do Pastoreio, whose movements he named: Pastoreio, Toada and Batuque.
The last piece enchanted Toscanini in his time, who took over its outreach enthusiastically.
Today it is worldwide recognized, being part of the standard repertoire when it comes to making third world symphonic music.

Its name comes from the religion practiced by the ancient slaves of Bantu or Sudanese origin: "batuque" or "batuke", and which spread through the Rio Grande do Sul region in the mid-nineteenth century, reaching Argentina and Uruguay. This appellation also gave rise to the words "batuque" or "batucada" as synonyms for percussion.

The rendition is by the UFF National Symphony Orchestra (Universidade Federal Fluminense), under the baton of a lady, the Brazilian conductor Ligia Amadio.

Mozart, sonata No 9 in D major

After Archbishop Colloredo granted him with a leave of absence from his service at the court of Salzburg, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart set out with his mother for Paris on September 23, 1777. On the way, they visited Munich, Augsburg and Mannheim, cities where the twenty-one-year-old musician from Salzburg did his best to be admitted as a court composer. Sometimes he thought he was succeeding and so he let his father know by letter. Annoyed, Leopold would recall him that he would better stop being naive and not forget that the purpose and final destination of his trip was Paris.

Mozart in Mannheim, 1777 - 78
But Mozart had been delighted with Mannheim. He had arrived there with his mother on October 30. There the winter caught them, so the project of continuing to travel to Paris had to be put off, a delay that did not bother Mozart because before the end of the year he would be taking an active part in the musical life of the city. He established a strong friendship with several musicians –although not fruitful if we recall the ultimate goal–, even establishing a solid relationship with the conductor of the Mannheim orchestra, the Konzertmeister Christian Cannabich, who seemed to be always a little lost and from whom he could only hope empty promises that led nowhere.

Aloysia Weber

Aloysia Weber
Leopold, the father, must reengage him again, by letter. But Amadeus has been caught up in new affairs and has decided to start the new year 1778 by falling madly in love. The girl's name: Aloysia Weber, fifteen years old, beautiful, with an exquisite voice, and a professional singer-to-be.

Mozart informed the father of his plans: he will travel to Italy with the Webers for Aloysia to develop her profession. Amadeus will compose for her, and Aloysia will conquer Milan with her charming voice. A magnificent project.

Leopold received the news and wasted no time in pouring cold water on the insane idea, commanded his son to leave for Paris immediately. He reminded him of how in debt he was as a result of his trip and his mother's, and informed him that now he was dressing poorly and eating cheap food.

Wolfgang Amadeus, twenty-two years old but still under the tutelage of his father, responded right away: "We will leave for Paris in a week."

Piano Sonata No. 9
Konzertmeister Cannabich had a thirteen-year-old daughter, Rosina, who played the piano quite well. Wolfgang composed a sonata for her. It is not clear which one, but it is most likely the one we hear here, sonata No. 9 in D major, K. 311.

The sonata is in three movements, and its complete performance lasts about 15 minutes.

00:00  Allegro con spirito
04:15  Andante con espressione
08:37  Rondo-allegro

The rendition is by the maestro Daniel Barenboim.

Beethoven, Sonata Kreutzer

The notable violinist George Bridgetower was a mulatto musician. His father, who claimed to be the son of an African prince, was probably born in Barbados, and his mother came from the historic region of Suavia, now Germany. The racial amalgam made George tall, handsome, besieged by the opposite sex, and therefore lucky in love affairs.

George had spent the last decade of the century of enlightenment showing his genius through all the theaters of London and the south of England, offering nearly fifty concertos greatly applauded. In 1803 he traveled to Vienna and met Beethoven, who immediately recognized his talent to the point that they played together at least once. In view of the occasion, George suggested to Beethoven to compose a sonata for violin and piano, to be released by both, when the occasion arises.

Interested in finding out the greatness of the young mulatto, Ludwig agreed. To make things easier, he borrowed the last movement of a previous sonata, added a new slow movement and a very difficult allegro, and handed them to George on the day before the performance.

On the morning of May 24, 1803, the prestigious Augarten Pavilion on the outskirts of Vienna was brimming with influential personalities and art lovers. Shortly after the sonata had started, at bar 35, George dismissed an indication for the piano to repeat a passage and, in front of a stupefied Ludwig, he tackled the repetition with his violin, playing it without blemish. Contrary to what might be expected, Ludwig got up from the stool and walked over to George, hugging him, excited. (This scene, which may seem unusual and not very credible, is completely plausible for that time, as musical evenings did not have the solemnity that distinguishes them today).

George Bridgetower (1779 - 1860)

Tradition tells that afterwards, while they were celebrating the premiere and the successful performance with a lively chatting and Viennese musts, Ludwig announced to the mulatto violinist that he would dedicate the sonata to him. Right there, before an exultant George, Ludwig wrote in the score: Sonata mulattica composta per il mulatto Brischdauer.

When it came the time for the third bottle, the conversation took its natural course and drifted towards the eternal feminine. Excited by the twist, George relaxed and made a discourteous comment about a lady who happened to be a friend of Beethoven. The maestro stood up indignant and tore the manuscript from George, announcing that he had changed his mind and preferred to dedicate it to who was at that time the best violinist in the world: the Frenchman Rudolphe Kreutzer.

As much as George begged, Beethoven did not budge an inch. They said goodbye resentful, perhaps warned that they would never see each other again.

The best violinist in the world received the manuscript shortly after, in Paris. As soon as he saw it, he commented that the piece was untouchable: Beethoven does not understand the violin, he said. A man of honor, Kreutzer never performed in public the piece dedicated to him.

Sonata Kreutzer - Mov. 1
Sonata No. 9 for violin and piano, known today as the Kreutzer Sonata, is in three movements and takes about 40 minutes to complete. The first movement is presented here in the release of a very young and beautiful Martha Argerich at the piano, accompanied by the Latvian-born violinist, Gidon Kremer. The video offers an annotated analysis.

The picture at the top of these lines (painted by René Prinet, 1901) is inspired by the novel The Kreutzer Sonata, published by Leon Tolstoi in 1899. The novel took its title from Beethoven's sonata and was censored by the Russian authorities of the time.