CityMusic February 2008 - Program Notes with embedded audio
STRINGS ATTACHED
In most orchestras, big or small, the strings tend to outnumber all the other instruments two to one. And they are the only section that can play as a standalone group and still warrant the name “orchestra.” There are historical and acoustic reasons for this, but the upshot is that that the strings are important, and for the past three centuries composers have been writing great music for string orchestra. This concert is a celebration of the string sound. It’s ironic then, that only one work on the program, the Intermezzo by Schreker, was originally composed for a string orchestra. Schoenberg’s and Mozart’s pieces were intended for chamber forces, a string sextet and a quintet respectively; Grieg’s Erotik was composed as a piano miniature and later orchestrated. All three arrangements (or orchestrations) show how the glorious sound of a string orchestra – with more than one player on each part – adds richness and poignancy and new depth of expression.
GRIEG (Norwegian composer, 1843–1907) Erotik (Love Song) from Lyric Pieces for piano, Op.43, arranged for string orchestra by Max Spicker
Grieg’s popular reputation rests on two works: his incidental music for Ibsen’s play Peer Gynt, with such favorites as In the Hall of the Mountain King and Morning Mood,
and his piano concerto.
The concerto is a reminder that Grieg was a pianist, and the musical scene painting of Peer Gynt is a reminder that he was a miniaturist at heart. These two characteristics came together most naturally in his sets of Lyric Pieces for piano, published in ten books between 1886 and 1901. The Lyric Pieces have been compared to a gallery of delicate water colours, and they do have the quality of deftly drawn sketches: sparkling with light, sophisticated yet simple. Grieg thought of his opus 43 set (Book III) as a collection of “spring dances” – tributes to nature and to love – and the fifth in the set, Erotik (or Erotikon, as it’s sometimes called) is a tender love song for his wife, Nina. The transcription for string orchestra gives a singing wistfulness to the bell-like simplicity of the piano original.
In 1950 Arnold Schoenberg wrote a program note for Transfigured Night. The main part of his note summarizes the narrative, showing how the music illustrates the different moments. Since Schoenberg’s note so clearly links scenario to sound, an abridged version of it is presented here, with audio instead of notated examples. For Schoenberg’s complete note, visit this link to the Arnold Schönberg Center website.
Transfigured Night is closely based on a poem by Richard Dehmel, making it “program” or illustrative music. But Schoenberg explains that the music was different from most program music of the day for two reasons: first, it was not for orchestra but, originally, for a chamber group of six players; second, it doesn’t illustrate action or drama so much as human feelings. He suggests that for this reason it could perhaps be appreciated as “pure” music and that it might make us forget the poem “which many a person today might call rather repulsive.”
Nevertheless, he continues, much of the poem deserves appreciation because of its highly poetic presentation of the emotions provoked by the beauty of nature, and for the distinguished moral attitude in dealing with a staggeringly difficult human problem.
Promenading in a park
the wife confesses a tragedy to the man in a dramatic outburst.
She had married a man whom she did not love…unhappy and lonely…she is now with child from a man she does not love…
In desperation she walks now beside the man, with whom she has fallen in love, fearing his sentence will destroy her. But “the voice of a man speaks, a man whose generosity is as sublime as his love.”
Harmonics, adorned by muted runs express the beauty of the moonlight
“The child you bear must not be a burden to your soul.” (duet between violin and cello)
…the “warmth that flows from one of us into the other”
…this warmth “will transfigure your child,” so as to become “my own.”
A long coda section concludes the work. Its material consists of themes of the preceding parts, all of them modified anew, so as to glorify the miracles of nature, that have changed this night of tragedy into a transfigured night.
Poor Franz Schreker got a bad rap during his lifetime and has been unfairly neglected since his death. Yet between the world wars he was an influential opera composer and director of the Berlin Music Academy. In 1933 Hitler changed all that and Schreker was added to the list of “Degenerate” (Entartete) composers: modernists, Marxists and Jews. He may have been in illustrious company by our standards – Schoenberg, Mendelssohn and Mahler, to name a few – but he was unable to work or have his music performed. He died soon after and his musical reputation – which had yet to reach beyond German-speaking countries – fell into oblivion. Even in our own century there are critics who would sneer at Schreker’s achievements, dismissing his style, in the words of one writer, as “late-romantic shimmer.”
Schreker’s strength and passion was opera, and his most famous creation was his 1912 opera Der ferne Klang (The Distant Sound). The Intermezzo – one of his few instrumental works – was completed in 1901, not long after Schreker’s graduation from the Vienna Conservatory, and even though it’s a youthful production it already shows the innovation and, yes, “shimmer” of his mature musical language.
The string sound is ethereal and melancholy, and the textures are intimately woven. In the blurred harmonies there’s a suggestion of what Schoenberg was striving for in Transfigured Night – a musical style that Schreker was ultimately to take much further – but at the same time his 19th-century musical heritage provides the setting for this rare jewel.
WA MOZART (Austrian composer, 1756–1791) Eine kleine Nachtmusik (A Little Night Music)
Street musicians, elevators, restaurants, waiting rooms, shopping malls – if you were to survey the background music that pervades our lives you would probably find that the most frequently heard piece of classical music was Mozart’s Eine kleine Nachtmusik.
Plenty of music lovers deplore this state of affairs – Mozart “reduced” to background – but in all likelihood Mozart wouldn’t have minded one bit. Eine kleine Nachtmusik is a serenade and the 18th-century serenade was essentially background music for socializing. In fact, Mozart might have been surprised to see one of his serenades programmed in a formal concert such as this one.
Mozart wrote most of his serenades in Salzburg, where the weather was nicer and summer outdoor events were common. But his most famous serenade of all, the Serenade in G major, K525, was written later, in Vienna. When Mozart entered it into his catalogue of works he labeled it “eine kleine Nachtmusik” (a little night music). He was really only referring to the music’s function – performance in the evening – but it has endured as a title.
Usually with Mozart’s serenades there is evidence of the events for which they were written (graduations were a common motivation), but in the case of Eine kleine… there is only a date: August 10, 1787. It was the right time of year for an outdoor entertainment, but the music itself suggests that this serenade was for indoors, perhaps a dinner. First, there are no noisy wind instruments (in fact it’s the only one of Mozart’s serenades for strings alone); it seems that Mozart had five soloists in mind rather than an orchestra, making this serenade more like chamber music; and he specifically includes the cello, which, since cellists have to sit down to play, was often omitted from a serenade lineup.
It’s an atypical serenade but it is typical Mozart: in his hands Eine kleine… transcends mere function. While fulfilling all the requirements of charm, grace and unobtrusive congeniality, Mozart manages to weave in sophistication at every turn. This can be heard in his brilliant development of the musical ideas of the first movement, in the harmonic surprises of the finale, and in the intensity of feeling that lies at the heart of Romanze.
Mozart knew that his original listeners wouldn’t be paying close attention to the perfect craftsmanship of this serenade, but he wrote it as if they would. He might have been surprised to see Eine kleine… in a concert, but probably not displeased. Nor, if we aren’t too jaded by sheer repetition, should we!
Grieg’s popular reputation rests on two works: his incidental music for Ibsen’s play Peer Gynt, with such favorites as In the Hall of the Mountain King and Morning Mood,
and his piano concerto.
The concerto is a reminder that Grieg was a pianist, and the musical scene painting of Peer Gynt is a reminder that he was a miniaturist at heart. These two characteristics came together most naturally in his sets of Lyric Pieces for piano, published in ten books between 1886 and 1901. The Lyric Pieces have been compared to a gallery of delicate water colours, and they do have the quality of deftly drawn sketches: sparkling with light, sophisticated yet simple. Grieg thought of his opus 43 set (Book III) as a collection of “spring dances” – tributes to nature and to love – and the fifth in the set, Erotik (or Erotikon, as it’s sometimes called) is a tender love song for his wife, Nina. The transcription for string orchestra gives a singing wistfulness to the bell-like simplicity of the piano original.
In 1950 Arnold Schoenberg wrote a program note for Transfigured Night. The main part of his note summarizes the narrative, showing how the music illustrates the different moments. Since Schoenberg’s note so clearly links scenario to sound, an abridged version of it is presented here, with audio instead of notated examples. For Schoenberg’s complete note, visit this link to the 
Poor Franz Schreker got a bad rap during his lifetime and has been unfairly neglected since his death. Yet between the world wars he was an influential opera composer and director of the Berlin Music Academy. In 1933 Hitler changed all that and Schreker was added to the list of “Degenerate” (Entartete) composers: modernists, Marxists and Jews. He may have been in illustrious company by our standards – Schoenberg, Mendelssohn and Mahler, to name a few – but he was unable to work or have his music performed. He died soon after and his musical reputation – which had yet to reach beyond German-speaking countries – fell into oblivion. Even in our own century there are critics who would sneer at Schreker’s achievements, dismissing his style, in the words of one writer, as “late-romantic shimmer.”
Street musicians, elevators, restaurants, waiting rooms, shopping malls – if you were to survey the background music that pervades our lives you would probably find that the most frequently heard piece of classical music was Mozart’s Eine kleine Nachtmusik.
Plenty of music lovers deplore this state of affairs – Mozart “reduced” to background – but in all likelihood Mozart wouldn’t have minded one bit. Eine kleine Nachtmusik is a serenade and the 18th-century serenade was essentially background music for socializing. In fact, Mozart might have been surprised to see one of his serenades programmed in a formal concert such as this one.
