Chopin: Sonata No 2 - Funeral March

Upon returning from the unfortunate trip to Mallorca, the "family" made up of George Sand, his two sons and Frédéric Chopin, after an escape to Geneva where the weather was adverse again, finally landed in Nohant, George Sand's summer house, in May 1839.
The house, Louis XV style, was not a mansion but had all the comforts that in the nineteenth century could be aspired to. To enjoy the countryside, every year came till there personalities such as Balzac, Délacroix, Liszt and their partner Marie d'Agoult, the famous singer Pauline Viardot-García, and another great singer, a friend of Sand (likely her girlfriend), Marie Dorval.

The summer of 1839 was no different. Surrounded by her friends and in the company of "her three children", Mme Sand is happy. In the beautiful countryside, life goes peacefully between the singing of larks and nightingales. Guests are free to do as they please, until dinner time. Sand looks after them to the extent her obligations allow it because she must write one novel after another — the pension she receives from her ex-husband is not enough to pay for the house.

The new guest, Frédéric, gets up late. He has breakfast alone in his bedroom. Then walks, writes letters. After dinner, he plays the piano for the guests, accompanies Viardot or runs a four-handed fragment with eleven-year-old Solange, to whom he gives lessons. He also composes or amends what in Mallorca managed to be outlined, despite the circumstances. In a letter to his friend Fontana, he tells him that he is working hard on the sonata in B-flat minor, "which contains the funeral march that you already know." Indeed, Chopin has decided to add to his second sonata a "funeral march" composed two years before. The remaining three movements will be completed in Nohant, that summer of 1839.

The rendition is by the Russian pianist, Alexander Ghindin. Tokyo, April 2006.

First movement. Grave - Doppio movimento
Four imposing measures introduce the first theme (doppio movimento: at twice the previous speed). Second theme: more lyrical, in 1:03 minute. Chopin was demanded not to obey the rules of the piano writing of a first sonata movement: the recapitulation of the subjects is incomplete ... lack of handling of the traditional ways ... I prefer to believe that all this couldn't care less to Frédéric. Brilliant ending.

Second movement. Scherzo
The Italian word scherzo means "joke", "game" or "charade". In Nohant, some nights, there were plenty. The puppet theater was the great fun: the cloth dolls are made by Sand; Solange and Maurice, are the actors behind the scenes; Frédéric, when he doesn't show his talent for mimicry, accompanies the piano, improvising. It has been his idea and that is when he plays around. In music no. His scherzos are not cheerful in nature, and he left it stamped on the four independent pieces that bear that name. Nor is the case of this piece. Minute 1:15: a lyrical theme, which is quoted very briefly in 6:11, which ends the movement, in complete stillness.

Third movement. Marche Funébre - Lento
Tripartite structure, ABA, that is, first theme - second - return to the first theme. The famous Funeral March of Chopin, which has served to say goodbye to as many personalities who say goodbye to this world, of all colors. On the other hand, the second theme, Chopinian to the core (minute 2:33), has been used in a shortened version by more than one lobby pianist – I know – to take a break between "Bésame mucho" and "My way". As far as I know, nobody claimed for making them listen to Chopin's funeral march while they sipped their bloody mary, delighted with life.
Fourth movement Finale - Presto. (7:07) This brief piece of closure amazed the audience, and musicologists from another century would speak of early atonality. Chopin, on the other hand, only said that: "... after the march, the left hand chatter in unison with the right ...".

Strauss Blue Danube, step by step

The son far exceeded the father. We remember the father for the Radetzky March. We remember the son for the 500 and more dance pieces, including over one hundred waltzes and as many polkas and marches, composed between 1840 (at fifteen) and 1899, the year when death reached him while he was focused on the composition of a ballet.
Johann Strauss, Jr., is the promoter of the endeavour that took the waltz from its original condition of peasant dance until its conversion into a consensual dance piece, in the Habsburg court in Vienna in the mid-19th century.

His most famous dance piece is, of course, the waltz By the Beautiful Blue Danube, whose nome de guerre, "The Blue Danube", is not unknown to anyone. The work was composed on demand: a sung waltz for the Viennese to forget the recent defeat suffered at the hands of Prussia, during the war of picturesque name – the "seven-week war" – of the previous year, 1866. The work did not please many. Nor did Johann have much confidence in it: "It was not sticky enough," he said. However, shortly thereafter, being invited to conduct in Paris, Johann decided to include in the program this battered waltz, but without the choirs. It was a resounding success. To this day.

Johann Strauss Jr (1825 - 1899)

The famous waltz, of course, celebrates the incomparable beauty of the very long Danube river, flowing through five capitals of Europe and which at some time will have been blue, although almost certainly it was not in Strauss's time either. In the twentieth century, it was set up a joint venture between neither more nor less than Romania and the former Yugoslavia in order to build a dam, there, in the very same and "beautiful blue Danube." Work began in 1964 and at the end, in 1972, the second-largest hydroelectric power station in Europe stood next to the dam. It was not heard of demonstrations or social networks claiming for a "Danube without dams."

The rendition is by the Vienna Philharmonic, 2009. The waltz is made up of five small waltzes. Its linkage and development are detailed below. We have heard it thousands of times, it is worth knowing what it is made of.

00: Introduction, largo, delicately outlines the unmistakable main theme.
0:42  Forte passage, majestic, which quickly lowers its intensity and then returns to the calm of the first bars.
1:38  After a brief accelerando at 1:17, the rhythm slows down and three descending notes by the strings, in staccato, welcome the main melody.
1:45  Section 1A. The celebrated theme played by cellos and horns, accompanied by the harp, in D major.
2:27  Section 1B. In the same tone, a somewhat playful theme.
2:42  Section 2A. A new theme slides, calm, without pimps.
2:58  Section 2B. Sub-theme, melodious, by the violins. Goes back to 2A.
3:29  Section 3A. A new theme, a little more alive, in G major.
3:58  Section 3B. A melodic passage of eighth notes; after its repetition, it will lead to a spirited intrata (4:27) that leads to:
4:37  Section 4A. The most sensual or romantic passage. Its repetition leads to:
5:15  Section 4B. A livelier moment, in the same key.
5:41  Very brief intrata that will lead to:
5:51  Section 5A. A touching melody. Its repetition ends with another intrata that will lead to climax.
6:24  Section 5B. The climax, punctuated by a vibrant clash of cymbals (propitious moment to go through the lounge from end to end, in big jumps if possible).
6:52  The coda begins. The first sections (3A and 2A) are quoted, then furious chords give way to the recapitulation of the romantic fragment 4A (7:34).
8:08  A silence that lasts a full measure precedes the repetition of the initial tune, 1A, very slow. It will suffer an abrupt cut at 8:49, to give way to the final codetta, based on an ingenious variation of 1A.
9:25  Passage in accelerando. Fast eighth notes, loudly underlined by the snare-drum roll, rise and fall and then route resolutely to the three final chords.

Scriabin, three piano pieces

The year after finishing his studies at the Moscow Conservatory, the young Russian composer and pianist Alexander Scriabin, twenty years old, damaged his right hand forever, after forcing it to make a gigantic effort in his attempt to master a very difficult piece by the Hungarian master Franz Liszt. His ungratefully small hands, which barely reached more than an octave, could not stand the effort.

The son of a government official and of an outstanding pianist, the ten-year-old Alexander had started a military career in Moscow's Cadet School in 1882, which did not prevent him from simultaneously pursuing piano studies, in which he clearly stood out as to decide and secure his entrance to the Conservatory in 1888.

There he met another star pupil, Sergei Rachmaninov, with whom he shared the same tutor, although both musicians didn't forge a deep friendship, which is reflected in the different course their careers took. If at the end of their studies, the excellent pianist was Alexander, and Sergei a notable composer, in the maturity of life, Sergei will have become a piano virtuoso, and Alexander, due to of his hand injury, will find his place among the minor Russian composers of the post-romantic period.

Alexander Scriabin (1872 - 1915)

In his youth a great lover of Chopin, like this one Alexander Scriabin will compose music almost exclusively for solo piano ― not taking into account his five orchestral works and his piano concerto. He tried to innovate in the development of harmony, and his philosophy of music was marked by a great mystical sense, to the point of believing himself a messianic figure that would come to recompose everything.

At the end of his life, he flirted with dodecaphony, performing his own harmonic experiments, with independence from the Viennese masters but without reaching their height. Today, he is especially remembered for his early works, preludes and nocturnes, mainly the 24 Preludes of Opus 11, essential pieces in the piano repertoire of our day, full of lyricism that bring to mind Chopin's harmonies, by the way, but also the poetry of Schumann and the sensual romanticism of Wagner.

From the 2010 version of the Chamber Musical Festival of Santa Fe, New Mexico, we take this balanced and correct selection of three piano pieces by Alexander Scriabin, performed by the excellent Beijing-born pianist Yuja Wang.

The young musician, today 31, earned a fair place in the circuit of international career pianists, after making her debut in 2003 successfully replacing Radu Lupu at Beethoven's No. 4 concerto, and later, Martha Argerich, committed to concerto No 1 also by Beethoven which Miss Wang simply replaced by Tchaikovski's No. 1.
Petty souls, always present in every human activity, qualified her as a replacement pianist for sick colleagues. As for me, let everyone get sick.

The selection includes:
00:00  Prelude in B-major, Opus 11 No 11
04:50  Étude in G-sharp major, Op 8 No 9 (includes a slow section)
09:18  Poem, in F-sharp major, Op 32 No 1

Tchaikovsky, Italian Cappriccio

Piotr Ilich Tchaikovski was fifty years old when he received Mrs. von Meck's last letter. In the letter, she announced that as a result of financial problems she was forced to suspend the patronage with which she had supported him for thirteen years. But the sad truth is that Nadezhda von Meck had finally decided to face the facts: her epistolary friend of so many years was embracing a sexual option that denied forever the possibility of a loving relationship between her and Piotr. Not wanting to harm him, she alleged a fictitious and definitive economic bankruptcy to make any future contact with the musician impossible.

In addition to giving him an allowance of 6,000 rubles a year – in monthly payments that he began to send to Piotr regularly since late 1877 –, Nadezhda had self-imposed the task of promoting Tchaikovski's music in the European capitals, encouraging his editors to publish his works and convince theater owners to perform them. A widow of an industrialist linked to the railways and heiress of a large fortune, Nadezhda had a number of farms and properties scattered throughout Russia, to which Piotr was invited year after year to compose at ease, in complete solitude, unless we count the service personnel left there by Nadezhda for her friend's attention. Then, Nadezhda would move to a nearby farm. Occasionally, their carriages crossed, and also their eyes through the curtains. At night, each one sat down to write to the other their respective letter telling the experience.

Nadezhda von Meck (1831 - 1894)

This unique relationship as unlikely as true proved to be an invaluable help when Piotr fell into a deep depression after leaving his wife Antonina Milyukova, with whom he hardly remained married for two months, in 1877. Nadezhda's letters became the emotional support the tormented musician urgently required. In the affectionate words of his protectress, Piotr found the energy needed to recover the physical and emotional balance that his creative activity demanded. In search of his inner peace, Piotr travelled to Switzerland, then visited Paris and later toured Italy: Florence, Venice, Milan, San Remo. At the end of 1880, he was in Rome, quite recovered.

In Italy, he had encountered an atmosphere completely different from Russia's, and the country had made a pleasant impression on him. He loved all the cities where he passed through, and some places would be a source of inspiration for some of his most beautiful pages. The symphonic poem Capriccio Italiano is one of them. Composed in Rome in that year, it is a bright and delightful work, which justifies until today its vast and lasting popularity. Tchaikovski, aware of the bright future of his creation, told Nadezhda on February 17, 1880:

"...I have already completed the sketches for an Italian fantasia on folk tunes for which I believe a good fortune may be predicted. It will be effective, thanks to the delightful tunes which I have succeeded in assembling partly from anthologies, partly from my own ears in the streets."

Capriccio Italiano, opus 45
The work is in a single movement, with three independent sections:
Andante un poco rubato.
Pochissimo più mosso (4:03)
Allegro moderato (10:45)

After a brief bugle call, inspired by a bugle call Tchaikovsky heard daily in his rooms at the Hotel Constanzi, next door to the barracks of the Royal Italian Cuirasseurs, a stoic, heroic, unsmiling melody is played by the strings. Eventually, this gives way to music sounding as if it could be played by an Italian street band, beginning in the winds and ending with the whole orchestra. Next, a lively march ensues, followed by a lively tarantella.

The rendition is by the Macau Youth Symphony Orchestra, seconded by members of the Prague Philharmonic. Recording of August 2010, in Prague.

Gershwin, Hancock, Dudamel: Rhapsody in blue

Before the crisis of 1929, all Americans were happy. The First World War had resulted in the transformation of the US into an influential military, industrial and financial power and the American dream was presented as an alternative to decrepit Europe, in all areas. In that of culture, the nascent art of 24 frames-per-second and a novel music called jazz – practised by people of color, usually black –, were attracting people's attention, of any color.

In this relaxed atmosphere, it was considered appropriate and quite fair to integrate these new rhythms into symphonic music, also cultivated by people of color, in this case, white. This is how it emerges a short, light and melodious piece called Rhapsody in blue, for solo piano and jazz band, by the composer George Gershwin, and released in February 1924.

There are at least four different versions of the work. The original, for jazz orchestra; a reduction for solo piano; a transcription for two pianos; finally, the one that is heard most frequently in the concert halls and that here we host, in full version, adding to it a humble listening guide:

The clarinet initiates the piece with a trill that is followed by a long glissando (a note that goes up, or goes down, continuously, like sliding your fingers through the bow of a violin, which in the clarinet is, clearly , much more difficult, because it works by covering and uncovering dimples), glissando, we said, which leads to the exposition of the first theme, which is repeated three times, accompanied by the orchestra, until the piano enters, responsible for providing the variations, occasion for the soloist to show off, mischief included.

The second theme, more festive, is taken on by the orchestra and then by the piano, which will soon perform a fairly extensive reexposure of the two themes to finally introduce the third and final, the best known and closest to the blues of the entire composition, in the 13:42 minute. Then the orchestra re-exposes it with greater vigor, then the piano comes up, and together, they promptly quote all the themes before the coda, which will quickly lead to a resounding finale, in a tutti, or what is the same, when nobody is left without playing.

The soloist, this time, is the prominent musician, jazz legend and pianist Herbie Hancock, author of dozens of highly celebrated albums and composer of the soundtrack of a good number of films. His performance here is quite a wise move.

The conductor is the young Venezuelan musician Gustavo Dudamel, leading the Los Angeles Philharmonic Orchestra, as his principal conductor. Dudamel is a brilliant musician born in Lara state, Venezuela, 41 years ago, captured by music thanks to the commendable task of the Foundation for Youth Orchestras of that country, a multi-voice invention led by maestro José Antonio Abreu, over forty years ago.
In 2004, Dudamel won first prize in the Gustav Mahler Conducting Competition, which takes place in Germany, every three years. Since that date, he has conducted countless first-world orchestras, including the Gothenburg Symphony, the Israel Symphony Orchestra, the Chicago Symphony Orchestra and the New York Philharmonic, to name a handful of prominent orchestral groups that have been in his charge.