Often I forget about all the works I listened to when I was younger. Back in the day where it all just seemed so random and different and I was no where close to understanding and loving it as much as I do today. The luxury of music in some forms is how simple it can be whilst still promoting the same effect.

Not much simpler a form of music exists than the Viennese Waltz. The meter is always 3/4, harmonic pace and the harmony itself are typically very simple and the "ump-cha-cha" effect is always present with the downbeat held in the bass voice of the group performing followed by the two other beats in other instruments.

Talk about masters of the Viennese Waltz and a name that immediately pops up is Johann Strauss II, son of Johann Strauss I and is correlated with elevating the waltz to new heights through his lifetime. Four of his waltzes follow below, each one applying to a certain mood, I shall leave that determination to you.



On the Beautiful Blue Danube, Op.314 was a waltz composed by Johann Strauss II in 1867 and is the statue of waltzes among the public that Strauss ever composed. I always remember the scene from Futurama where Bender is floating lost in space and he's swimming in the abyss with this waltz playing in the background. Weird connection I know. This work always appears connected to "space" themes, it was used in 2001: A space Odyssey as well.


Herbert von Karajan conducts the Vienna Philharmonic

Roses from the South (Rosen aus dem Suden), Op.388 If love could stem from a waltz than this would be the work to embody it. It has every range of emotion possible, the first look into her eyes, the first dance, the first kiss, the first letdown and then, life together forever. Okay perhaps not that idealistic but the piece would have it otherwise.



Enjoy life! (Freut euch des Lebans), Op.340. This was another work I had heard in my childhood but never really knew what it was till in my late teens when I saw the YouTtube video below and immediately recognized it.



Voices of Spring (Frühlingsstimmen), Op.410. One of my perpetual favorites that I rediscovered a couple of years ago. Once again I immediately recognized it from my younger days, was always wondering where it came from.



I always figured it was hearing these works in my youth that may have turned my musical interest into the "classical" way. Never really knowing what they were might have spiked my curiosity slightly, if only to look for something greater each time, but still be disappointed in not being able to find a similar "emotional" connection.

These four will always have a special connection however.

Well I must admit were it not for this blog inadvertently forcing me to discover new works and composers, I would have most definitely have posted all the Beethoven and Tchaikovsky Symphonies by now, and that would not be any fun. Nor very interesting as one composer all the time does have the tendency to grab your annoying tendencies and stretch them slightly, as I witnessed with my attempted "Mozart Month."

So as obviously last week I posted on one of my perpetual favorites, the Tchaikovsky Fifth, this week I shift to a work and a composer I still know very little about. What I do know of Antonin Dvorak is that he was as great as Beethoven and Tchaikovsky when it came to the Symphony, keeping alive such an important genre of music in the transition into the twentieth century.

With this post I start off with his most famous work, Symphony No.9 in E Minor "From the New World" Op.95. Written a year into his visit to the United States in 1893, the Symphony is an eclectic mixture of various nuances and cultural ideas that structure themselves into the idea of America's multicultural melting pot.

1. Adagio - Allegro molto


While Dvorak is rooted heavily in Czech tradition, a born and raised Bohemian peasant, the idea of American nationalism spreading from the Ninth Symphony came through the ideas and beliefs he obtained from his trip to the United States. Dvorak was strictly Czech in his roots, the old saying goes how you can take the boy out of the country but you can't take the country out of the boy. He loved the simple pleasures to life, the long journey by train, and casual conversation. Dvorak brought Czech music to the world's attention by showcasing its inherent appeal. Dvorak's music is one of a kind, one quote saying "you could feel the fresh rustic breeze and smell the hale country air." A true nationalistic appeal.

Influenced and inspired by his compatriot Bedrich Smetana, Dvorak had achieved great fame as an ardent champion of his beloved Czech music, fluently melding folk-tinged melodies into classical forms. But unlike Brahms, Liszt and other composers who studied folk music from an academic distance and used it as a fleeting exotic diversion, Dvorak's “Moravian Duets,” “Czech Suite,” “Slavonic Dances” and other cornerstones of his early fame were the very essence of his being.

2.Largo

Part 1. I have an email friend who plays the Oboe and Cor Anglais in France who claims it's her lifelong goal to perform this movement for only the opening solo


Part 2

The story of the "New World" Symphony begins with one woman's attempt to revitalize an aging feeling of American nationalism in music, foster it into the new millennium with a new grace of urgency. The woman was Jeanette Thurber, who had founded in 1888 the National Conservatory of Music, a pioneering venture which opened its doors in 1888 to promising African-American musicians but needed strong leadership. She found it in Antonin Dvorak.

Lured to New York in 1892 by the promise of a fee twenty times his salary in Prague, and was heavily energized by Ms. Thubert's objective. Early on he proclaimed:

"I am convinced that the future music of this country must be founded on what are called Negro melodies. These can be the foundation of a serious and original school of composition, to be developed in the United States. These beautiful and varied themes are the product of the soil. They are the folk songs of America and your composers must turn to them."

True to his word, Dvorak immersed himself in African-American music. He was particularly drawn to one of his students, Henry Burleigh, who often sang for Dvorak in his home and who later recalled that Dvorak “saturated himself in the spirit of these old tunes.” While he was consistently busy with teaching and organizing performances, Dvorak was still foremost a composer and he had already begun work on what would become the cherished symphony his first winter in New York. It was completed that following summer on vacation in Spillville, Iowa, a colony of Czech immigrants to helped diminish Dvorak's intense homelessness.

Dvorak embraced both worlds from his he had experienced in writing the symphony. Formally the work was outlined by heavy European tradition, with a sonata-from opening, a meditative largo broken by restless outbursts, a hearty schzerto with bucolic trios and a triumphant, but vigorous finale. The work began to foster in new characteristics with the cyclical form embodied in the symphony. The themes all stemmed from a common seminal motif and returned in the finale.

3. Scherzo: Molto vivace - Poco sostenuto


There is however much dispute over the context from the subtitle of the work, "from the New World." While the similarities to the atmospheres provided by Dvorak's earlier works suggests that the symphony was inspired by a deep sense of nostalgia for his native Bohemia. However one would assume that Dvorak set out to practice what he was preaching, a deep examination of the work discovers the prevalence of syncopated rhythms, pentatonic scales and flattened sevenths of the native music to find a closer tie to America.

They noted Dvorak's fascination with the Hiawatha legend and traced the symphony's largo and scherzo to scenes of the funeral and celebratory feast from an opera he had sketched but never pursued. They found especially significant the resemblance of a principal theme of the first movement to “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot,” reportedly one of Dvorak's favorite spirituals. But such speculation has its dangers – it's hard to find much meaning in the far more striking resemblance of a motif in the finale to “Three Blind Mice.” And subsequent critics who went so far as to assert that Dvorak copied his largo from a hymn, “Goin' Home,” were chagrined to realize that the song arose only decades later when lyrics were grafted onto Dvorak's original theme.

4. Allegro con fuoco

Jaws anyone? An amazing performance but unfortunately not complete

Dvorak himself made short work of the claims that he used actual Indian (African-American tunes) and insisted that he only wrote "in the spirit" of native American music. Leonard Bernstein in a 1956 lecture examined each of the themes and traced their origins to French, Scottish, German, Chinese and of course Czech sources and actively concluded that the only accurate view was to consider the work multinational.

New York critic James Huneker however, pointed out in a rather discerning review of the premiere, the “New World” Symphony was "distinctly American in the sense of being a composite, reflecting our melting-pot society." Indeed, much the same could be said for the American culture generally – it's made of foreign ingredients but emerges from the cauldron with a clear American flavor.

I've never been one to merge music with politics as Huneker did, I let the conductor do the talking, to which he does a tremendous job. Herbert von Karajan and the Vienna Philharmonic deliver another excellent performance. It is a different perspective as an audience member to watch Karajan in his old age and the impact it impedes on his conducting mannerism. The music speaks for itself in his interpretation but to reference the video I posted of Karajan conducting Beethoven's Third Symphony with Herbert in his younger years, the difference is explicitly clear.

A while back I posted on Brahms' Six Pieces for Piano, Op.118 and discussed how they were my favorite of Brahms' solo pieces for piano. Lately however I have since discovered a couple new recordings of Brahms' other solo works and I may have changed my mind.

That's allowed though right?

In moving chronologically to the next Opus number in Brahms' career, we discover his final work for solo piano and the very last work to be published during the composer's lifetime, the Four Klavierstucke (Four Pieces for Piano), Op.119. Together with the Op.118 collection they were premiered in concert in London in 1894, a year after the four pieces compiling Op.119 were finished.

With the Op.119 collection, I have found the most personal preference for the final two movements of the work, the Intermezzo in C Major leading into the Rhapsodie in E-flat major, effectively acting as a finale (also the last individual work for piano written by Brahms).

3. Intermezzo in C Major


The Intermezzi were a medium of compositional genius for Brahms. Toying with rhythmic perceptions is the vehicle of success for Brahms in this movement as he creates a perplexing hemiola effect and employs a very intriguingly playful yet near serious melody.

4. Rhapsodie in E-flat Major

Irena Koblar performsl

I once heard one of my colleagues at school call this piece the "macho of piano pieces." While I may have agreed at the time, as I am currently working on this piece for a performance in the distant future, it also meddles with the word "epic."

"The rhapsody has been criticized for its rather crude from and medieval austerity. But the form has to match its content and a complex polyphony or a sonata form like development would surely disturb the archaic character of this magnificently heroic epic."

Brahms was a meticulous composer for a reason, not a note goes without a significant rationale and while the overall idea of his composition sees that his intermezzi are more polyphonic and his rhapsodies are more homogenized, proves that his enormous technical expertise as a composer is applied to the character ideally conveyed in the music.

For the longest time in my life I've always envisioned how much it would take me to learn the piece in today's post. I remember when I was little thinking about how much this piece would haunt me in my later years as I attempted to learn it. I first saw the score when I was 9 and nearly fainted. Here eleven years later and I'm still completely baffled by it.

The piece is Chopin's Polonaise in A-flat Major, Op.53, commonly known as the "Heroic" Polonaise and if there were ever a name that suited a piece perfectly, this would be one of them. The piece was written in 1842 and is perfect example of Chopin's piano compositions: bursting with energy throughout its entirety, scaling a wide range of the keyboard, colored with harmony and a distinct melody throughout.

It was for awhile my favorite piece by the piano written by Chopin, and while I may have since moved into the light of some of his other works, the Polonaise will always be there.


The polonaise being performed by Rafal Blechacz, the winner of the 15th International Chopin Piano Competition in 2005. Performance in the video starts at 2:18

The piece, though classified as a polonaise, has little to do with the true polonaise style. The work presents itself with two sections with a polonaise rhythm but most of it has no polonaise attributes. It is believed that Chopin wrote the piece having at the back of his mind, a free and victorious Poland which could explain the title of the polonaise, a wide spread dance on carnival parties in 3/4 rhythm.

The piece also references Chopin's earlier Polonaise in A Major, Op.40, No.1 with the beginning chords and ensuing chromatic development. Unlike the "Heroic" Polonaise, the Op.40, No.1, also known as the "Military" polonaise is a "true" polonaise, I should also know as I have performed it and been criticized about not bringing out the true "polish dance" aspect towards it.

A short little piece today to heighten the mood of a summer on the cusp of coming to an end for another year. Only one month left remaining and it almost feels like yesterday that I left Lethbridge because school was over.

In a way I feel sort of relieved to be returning to the environment that sinks me into the world I love. On the other hand, it means moving again and leaving all the friends I made in Calgary over the summer. Here's a piece to tribute both situations.

The works of Dimitri Shostakovich were under constant scrutiny because of the era in which he wrote music. With the Stalinist regime taking full control of all social aspects to the music that Shostakovich was forced to write through most of his career, it is possible to imagine the feelings of near freedom once that regime came to an end.

The Festival Overture in A Major, Op.96 is a work that really means nothing. It has no political undertones, no hidden subtleties into the progression of the working class like there was with his Fifth Symphony.


St. Petersburg Philharmonic, Y. Temirkanov conducting

The Overture is simply a becoming work that dares to ask the question, "why not?" to almost everything.

Why not enjoy it? Why not dare to have fun in life?

Well I've decided to break my Summer hiatus as July is now officially over. Also seeing as it is a Friday, I suppose it makes it obvious what the post will be about.

I've had my head around the music of Tchaikovsky lately, more specifically his piano concerto in b minor and the final three symphonies. As I've already posted on the Fourth Symphony with the Chicago Symphony and Daniel Barenboim conducting, I figured I would continue the pursuit chronologically and move on to this fifth.

The Fifth Symphony in E minor, Op.64 was originally my personal favorite of the final three the composer wrote. Although I've since seen the brilliance behind the fourth and the sixth, the fifth is perhaps closer personally if only for the second movement, and a few brief moments in the finale which give me goosebumps. Sometimes I wish I played a brass instrument just to get that feeling.

Part 1


Part 2


Composed between May and August of 1888 (200 years ago, I swear that wasn't planned), Tchaikovsky gave the premiere himself on November 8 that fall. Like the fourth symphony, the fifth is a cyclical work as the "motto" theme is treated and seen more than once in the symphony. Unlike the Fourth where the opening fanfare is heard in the first and fourth movement, the theme is heard in all four movements in the Fifth.

The Symphony is also somewhat programmatic, as was with the Fourth. While the composer himself gave the theme of "Fate," to the fourth symphony, he didn't designate a program for the Fifth, but it clearly occupies a theme, if only for a different motivation.

While all three of his final works deal with the subject, the fifth is perhaps the only one that transforms the idea of fate through the course of the symphony. The first movement opens with the theme, taken from a passage in Mikhail Glinka's opera A Life for the Tsar, translated meaning "turn not into sorrow," in the tonic e minor and is treated in a funeral march setting, opening into a more optimistic fanfare as the opening movement progresses, having established the idea of that "fate" theme. Progressing slowly through each movement, subject to tragedy, beauty and dance, by the time the Symphony has finished one could obviously tell the outlook Tchaikovsky had of the subject

His own notebook sheds light on the idea of the "program" for the fifth having wrote:
Introduction: Total submission before fate, or, what is the same thing, the inscrutable designs of Providence.
Allegro. 1) Murmurs, doubts, laments, reproaches against...
II) Shall I cast myself into the embrace of faith???
A wonderful programme, if only it can be fulfilled"

Part 3

unheralded beauty contained within this video!

Part 4


Tchaikovsky's last question in the notebook perhaps leads to a familiar struggle the composer had with himself about the ability in his writing. As had happened several times before, including working on the fourth symphony and his first piano concerto in their beginning stages, Tchaikovsky was plagued by self-doubt, often convinced himself that is creative powers were deserting him.

Things were slow to start, and although the inspiration soon began to gather momentum, before starting work on the instrumentation Tchaikovsky wrote to his patron Mme von Meck that there was "none of the former lightness and constant readiness of material" in the work. However, in time his opinion of the symphony began to improve and he came to love it.

Tchaikovsky evolved his own view of the symphony substantially between the fourth and fifth symphonies. His treatment of the "motto" subject, incorporated into all four movements is a major step forward from the Fourth. While the Fourth almost had that subset of a "safety net" with the work being designated a program, the Fifth took in stride the necessity to have each succeeding paragraph or appearance of the theme progressed naturally. While in the Fourth Symphony finale, the motto theme returns before the height of the Coda, whereas in the Fifth it is treated in every movement with more enthusiasm. Tchaikovsky threw in more themes, seen at its greatest in the second movement, thus increasing the potential for the music and its development, there were still some "seams" but they occurred less frequently and now had a more dramatic effect.

Part 5

like a surging power wave, the energy flowing is breathtaking!

Part 6

finale at hand!

It is remarkable how the idea of fate presented from the Fourth symphony is taken on such a journey in the Fifth. Treated with such absolution at the beginning, tragedy in the second movement with a brief interlude of dance and temptation in the third movement to the ultimate feeling of triumph as witnessed in the finale, Tchaikovsky is at his most dramatic and emotional clarity and yet, the sense of a declared theme for this work is faint at the most.

In the years of the Twentieth Century the Fifth found a new popularity, possibly for its ultimate idea of "ultimate triumph through strife," the symphony was quite popular during the days of World War II. Many recordings and performances took place, one of the most notable performances was by the Leningrad Radio Symphony Orchestra during the Siege of Leningrad.

City leaders had ordered the orchestra to continue its performances to keep the spirits high in the city. On the night of October 20, 1941 they performed the Fifth Symphony at the city's concert hall and it was broadcast live to London. As the second movement began bombs started to fall nearby, the Orchestra continued to play till the work was finished.

The post on the Fourth was strong in my mind because the videos featured a strong performance from the Chicago Symphony and Daniel Barenboim. This time in keeping with that trend I was lucky to find a great recording on Youtube with Leonard Bernstein conducting the Boston Symphony, not necessarily a perfect recording but the emotional range from Bernstein is amazing, especially in the second movement(second half of part 2, all of part 3).

It is quite an exploration musically, and one with an outlook that from where it finishes, would never be seen again in the Sixth and final Tchaikovsky Symphony.

So it has become very obvious that summertime has distracted me from my posting.

It is not as if the intent to post is absent, it just seems as I am relatively busy enjoying my first half of the day before I head off to my full-time evening job as a kitchen worker, I try to get the most into a day with various activities including practicing and video gaming and going for my tri-weekly walks around my neighborhood, updating the blog with new posts just seems to always get put at the end of the list.

This isn't a post saying that my days with BG & the PIANO are over. I've had numerous blog attempts in the past but this one I think has the potential to stay awhile. It was really a school-orientated blog anyways, noticed by the number of postings found during the months I was in school.

However I have been thinking lately of how to get the blog to that more personal level, to talk about the reasons why I created it in the first place. Looking back on the postings so far, yes I seemed to have asserted my deep admiration for the subject of music but most of the posts seem to be simply videos of the works being performed and the accompanying history to the composition or composer. Even when I first started the blog I envisioned more than that.

At first it was about my passionate love for the form of classical music, and then it slowly evolved into a sense of enthusiasm towards my desire to learn as what I took from school I turned into a post idea. But also seeing as I had a few personal problems this year, health and school-wise, posting in the blog seemed to keep my attention moderately focused to the year at hand and away from my problems, if only temporarily.

BG & the PIANO seemed to serve its purpose this year, helping me survive my second year as a full-time student and keeping my mind afloat in the subject I truly love.

Perhaps the time during the remainder of the summer will help me refocus on what the blog will become when September rolls around and I hopefully return to posting on a regular basis.

Happy Summer Days!

People often question what about the music I love speaks to me so well.

It is a difficult one to explain.

For me, it would be simple to say I love "classical" music because of the experience. It's one of those undeniable feelings that are unexplainable, a sensation that speaks so vividly that the people surrounding me rarely understand what all the hype is about. It is always changing, my perspective shifting every minute. For me, it is a musical moment, that if only for a moment, seems to speak to all the levels of your life. Reflecting back on it later may seem rather distant and random now, but at the moment it was the very reason why you loved everything.

Reflecting back, Chopin was one of the first loves I had in the musical world, and Chopin's Prelude No.15 in D-flat Major, Op.28 "Raindrop" was one of the first pieces that, at the time produced a feeling that a younger me had no clue what to do with.


Vladimir Horowitz performs

Ask anybody moderately educated in music about Rachmaninoff and the immediate connections that come to mind will either deal with his second or third piano concertos. One is one of the most beautiful works ever written for the piano concerto genre (no.2) and the other finds itself among the most difficult of concertos (no.3).

However, Rachmaninoff wrote four piano concertos and while the middle two get the most recognition and performance time, the two outer works are just as equally important to the composer's development, like the underrated Piano Concerto No.1 in F-sharp minor, Op.1.

The work was completed in 1892 when Rachmaninoff was 19. The work would go through a thorough revision in 1917. The concerto was an unusual process for Rachmaninoff as it is not entirely original in the context of its form. Rachmaninoff at the time of his composition study was advised to base his efforts on a specific model for their first attempts in new forms. For this concerto, Rachmaninoff chose a personal favorite, the Grieg Concerto in A minor, Op.16, and adapted the entire musical structure of the outer two movements to the Grieg work, literally building his music into it. It was an interesting experiment for the composer and was used only once as the other Concertos from Rachmaninoff are more daring and "original."

1. Vivace

Part 1

Part 2

From the earliest part of his career, Rachmaninoff used his own skills as a performer to explore the expressive possibilities of his instrument. Even in the earliest of his works, which could include this concerto before its 1917 revision, he revealed a sure graps of ideomatic keyboard writing and a superb gift for melody.

2.Andante cantabile


Regardless of this concertos' weaknesses in its lack of musical invention and its overly simplistic dramatic contrasts, the work demonstrates a great level of potential for larger and more complex projects - a great achievement for a composer of young an age as Rachmaninoff.

The harmony of the work may be considered conservative and the development of the first movement sees overly relied dependence on repetitions that don't speak much in terms of structure. For the reflective nocturne of the second movement (only 74 bars long) the texture is less cumbersome in the revised version, and the harmonies remain the same but are enlivened by occasional chromatic notes. The third movement showed promising signs of expansive theme development, a cornerstone of the second and third concertos, but the particular theme of the movement found itself difficult to be treated without sounding contrived. Nonetheless, the work is of a great level for a composer of such a young age and it would go under significant revision in 1917 to further perpetuate it.

4. Allegro scherzando


Of all the works Rachmaninoff revised, the first concerto was perhaps the most successful out of all the works he later touched. Using an acquired knowledge of harmony, orchestration, piano technique and musical form, he transformed an early, immature composition into a "concise and spirited work" (Gregory Norris).

However, with all the work that went into the concerto, Rachmaninoff became slightly frustrated that it did not see the same light as was shown towards his second and third concertos which had been written long before (1901 for No.2, 1909 for No.3). In a conversation with Albert Swan, Rachmaninoff said:
"I have rewritten my First Concerto; it is really god now. All the youthful freshness is there, and yet it plays itself with so much more easily. And nobody pays attention. When I tell them in America that I will play the First Concerto, they do not protest, but I can see by their faces that they would prefer the Second or Third."

Luckily for us, the videos provided are one of the most noted recordings ever made of this concerto. It is the 1959 recording featuring Sviatoslav Richter on the piano and Kurt Sanderling conducting the Leningrad Philharmonic Orchestra. Some have said this recording to be superior that of Rachmaninoff's own performance and of Mikhail Pletnev.

Well for diehard musical fans such as myself, the title of the post should give away what work is featured. Franz Schubert's String Quartet in D minor, D.810 "Death and the Maiden is a revolutionary work written in 1824, around the time the composer became aware of his failing health. A common theme among composers. The quartet gains its famous name from the second movement, which features adapted material taken from the piano accompaniment to Schubert's 1817 lied of the same title.

For Schubert it was a fatal blow to his health that grew to form the great work and the course his life would follow. Two years before the quartet was written, Schubert contracted syphilis and spent most of the following year confined and weakened by debilitating treatments. Through the course of his treatment, his career stalled and his income had ceased. Even when he emerged victorious from the first two phases of the illness, he faced the constant terror of not knowing how long the incurable disease would remain dormant before resuming its final and fatal course.

1. Allegro

Part 1

Part 2

For the fourteenth quartet, Schubert reached back deep into his mind and emerged with a rather chilling and concise connection. It was a song he had written in his teens to an eight line poem, "The Death and the Maiden," by Matthius Claudius, in which a girl begs to be let alone by death, who soothes her with a promise of friendship and gentle sleep. The melody and accompaniment to this poem, aside from one brief frightened outburst, is an unremitting rhythm of a half and two quarter notes. Together it forms a shrouding feeling of grimness and the inevitability of a doom that the naive girl barely suspects.

One could argue that the quartet was written around the second movement. The movement itself is a set of variations on the song that follows and expands upon its narrative. After stating the austere theme, violin filigrees invoke the maiden, then the texture thickens, darkens and becomes more urgent as death nears before emerging into the promised peacefulness. For the final variation, the minor dirge returns, builds to a strong climax of triumph and then subsides into a whisper as death moves on to patiently lie in wait to lure his next innocent victim.

2. Andante con moto

Part 1

Part 2

The remainder of the quartet provides a fine prologue and aftermath for the central drama of focus. Schubert establishes mood through persistent minor tonality, tense rhythms, bold harmonic progressions and stormy emotion. Perhaps the most famous storm of all is the unforgettable opening, a great, riveting moment that puts it among the finest in all the quartet literature. It is a story that is propelled to our hearts so efficiently, an assertive unison figure of a dotted half note, descending triplet eights, a quarter note and a 3-beat rest is repeated, "becomes perplexed and then mellows into feminine grace before rebounding with an insinuating fury that traps the tenderness within its grasp," (Peter Gutmann). The third movement is a grotesque dance of death, sharp and offbeat with a gruff sort of allure. "Death slowly creeps beyond the sight, but not without gracing the touch and sound."

3. Scherzo: Allegro molto


The finale is all coiled tension and bundled energy, culminating in a vertiginous acceleration to a breathless conclusion – "we all know that the destiny of humanity ultimately is to lose the battle against mortality, but Schubert urges us (and himself, of course) to resist."

4. Presto


The videos feature one of my favorite performing groups, the Alban Berg Quartet, which I sadly learned writing this post that the group has decided to disband in July of this year following an illustrious course of achievement and a great reputation for their recordings and superb performances. Through 37 years, Valentine Erben (cello) and Gunter Pichler (1st violin) are still original members since the groups spawn in 1971.

I always find it interesting when explaining to people about my love for "classical" music, the one composer I neglect to mention is the one I perhaps admire the most presently. Tchaikovsky lived a difficult life, then again name a composer that hasn't to a certain degree?

Anyway, lately as mentioned earlier I've been in a chamber mood, all the recordings I've sought involve the chamber aspect to a degree and one recording I found at the library this week has turned out to be particularly good, hence this post. Tchaikovsky wrote three string quartets during his lifetime, though perhaps for many, there is only one quartet that is truly recognized and loved. It is one of my favorites and is the subject to this post, Tchaikovsky's String Quartet No.1 in D Major, Op.11 is the defining apogee of the three quartets that composer ever wrote.

The work got its first notice in a 1781 concert a young Tchaikovsky held in hopes of raising a bit of money, as he was barely getting by on his salary from the Moscow Conservatory. The D major quartet was written on occasion for this concert.

The Quartet is deep in Russian tradition, as most of his compositions are and carries that distinct Russian caricature of sound and texture throughout the work. It is unfortunate for me however that my favorite movement from this quartet, the fourth, is not available in video on the internet (YouTube included) I was disappointed as it is the perfect movement of which to define Tchaikovsky as a composer. Deep with tense and rich harmony, two strong Russian melodies that develop themselves throughout and an intricate orchestration that one would recognize from his symphonic works.

Anyway, the videos below are of the famous second movement and the rigorous Scherzo performed by the Voxare Quartet: David Marks and Emily Ondracek, violin, Erik Peterson, viola and Adrian Daurov, cello.


2. Andante cantabile


The second movement, Andante cantabile, is one of this composer's most beloved creations and is perhaps Tchaikovsky at his most humble. The first melody is a simple, melancholy folk song that Tchaikovsky is said to have learned from a carpenter in Kamenka. The second is original, very much a ballad initially sung by the first violin over the cello's descending, chromatic pizzicato notes.

3. Scherzo, Allegro non tanto e con fuoco


The scherzo is powered by a forceful theme that seamlessly skips into a dancelike rhythm one would expect from the movement. The trio section is more of a frolic but in tone of the earlier material carries a harmonic tension that flows through into the finale movemment.

One could gather a sense of flight or a soaring feeling when listening to the fourth movement. If you're really interested, you can listen here where I've uploaded it. Recommended!

This post features a rather short but poignant chamber work. Rachmaninoff was not a composer who produced a lot of chamber music, two short piano trios, two suites for two pianos, and a cello sonata were all the composer contributed into that area.

In perfect Rachmaninoff fashion though, all of them are significant contributions into the chamber experience. Rachmaninoff's Trio Elegiaque No.1 in G minor is a work for piano trio, it was written between January 18-21, 1892 and though Rachmaninoff was of a younger age at the time of completion, the work is of a wide spectrum of harmonic color (especially in the virtuoso piano part) and is deep with harmonious, romantic melodies that Rachmaninoff has become famous for.

And as with all Rachmaninoff pieces, they're deeply orchestrated and layered at tremendous levels making performance and interpretation incredibly difficult. I'm finding this out the hard way as I'm currently working on a few of his Etudes from Op.32...but as always, the music is worth the struggle.

Enjoy a wonderful performance by the Kempf Trio as they perform this short work.

Part 1


Part 2

So as it is a Monday, this post of course features a Mozart work.

Written in 1786, we examine one of the finest works for piano trio Mozart ever wrote. The Piano Trio in B-flat Major, K.502 is a masterwork by the master and achieves a level of his deepest musical maturity in the genre. The work comes at a time when Mozart was composing his last four symphonies. The usage of both the operatic and concerto genres stem deeply with this Op.502 Trio as Mozart's unique fusion of comic and serious elements distinguish themselves in this chamber work as they frequently did in establishing his Opera's.

1. Allegro


The first movement begins with "a sweetly beguiling theme which quickly escalates into dramatic dialogue between the instruments in high energy 'action and adventure' episodes.

2. Larghetto


The middle movement, a heartfelt Larghetto, mirrors the passionate emotion expressed in so many Mozart operas, in which virtually all of the slow arias (and many of the fast ones, as well) are about the emotional rigors, pleasures and deprivations of romantic love.

3. Allegretto


In the concluding movement, the music mimics both comic/serious opera characters and the piano concerto medium, so important to Mozart at this time, with dazzling keyboard writing throughout, a mock cadenza, and a coda of instrumental fireworks.

To finish with a quote, musicologist Alfred Einstein glows with praise about the Trio: "In every measure one finds the freshness, the nobility of invention, and the inspired mastery that synthesize. He contrasted elements of brilliance and intimacy, contrapuntal craftmanship and galanterie, into a higher unit."

One can almost garner a slender touch of love or nobility that arises from the manner in which the performers communicate in this performance. Featuring the beautiful Julia Fischer on violin, Daniel Müller-Schott on the cello and Jonathan Gilad on the fortepiano, it is a tremendous production in recognition of the 250th anniversary of the composer's birth.

So Chamber Music Week begins with an ultimate bang.

"He's shaking his fist at destiny. It's terrifying--but suddenly everything is released and it overflows with joy, with ecstasy."

One of the most important String Quartets ever to be written belongs to Beethoven. One could say Beethoven was a delusional form of himself when he embarked on the final large scale work of his life, the String Quartet in C-sharp minor, Op.131. It is the pinnacle of the final trio of Quartets that Beethoven wrote and is perhaps the most difficult work of the composer to completely understand.

Beethoven's three periods of music produced three styles of music, of which has seen his final period claimed as being the most inherently personal that it has yet to see a serious contemporary. A belief that when his music evolved into what was to become his final stage of music, it was of such devout personal ties that few could truly understand the deeper aspirations of the music he wrote or the style that it was in for possible mimicking later on.

The Op.131 Quartet is one of the best connections to that belief. Written between November of 1825 and the following July of 1826, the quartet reached its infamous standard because of all the norms of quartet rules it broke in the process of its creation. Normally, a string quartet would consist of four movements. In the case of the Op.131, Beethoven needed seven in order to complete his vision. The length requires a significant level of focus from both the performance and audience for about 40 unbroken minutes approximately.

The piece is of conflict and its ultimate resolution. A standard Beethoven norm but in the Quartet it is of the unique experience of having the conflict perpetuate itself and form through the entirety of the work, rather than each movement, with the inevitable resolution waiting. Additionally, he visits a total of six keys in this piece, as opposed to the standard two or three. Also, the manner by which the moods and forms evolve in the piece contradicted the typical technique.

As mentioned above it is recommended to listen to the Quartet in its full duration but that is a lot of video to add, plus my laptop still has a few bugs working out. The videos are of a performance done by Point Counterpoint, a group dedicated to providing opportunities and learning experiences to younger musicians about the experience of chamber music. The videos feature: Cyrus Beroukhim and Sean O'Neil on violin, William Hakim on the viola and Yun Joo Na on the cello

1. Adagio ma non troppo e molto espressivo

The rest of the performance can be found on YouTube.

Franz Schubert once made note of the quartet's brilliance by stating, "After this, what is left to write?"

So a bit of a computer technicality kept me from being able to post this past week and a half. I've also been unable to do a lot of things. This speaks that maybe it's time for a new computer, but with money as it is right now, that being a viable option isn't really...well viable.

Anyway, after much delay the final installment of Symphonic Mozart is at hand. It is no surprise that as it is the last Mozart symphony to be updated for awhile...couple of months at least, it should be one of the most important and enigmatic of the group of 38.

While many believe that Mozart actually wrote 41 symphonies, myself included (here), I've since learned that only 38 of them have historically been attributed to Mozart. Of the three that have been linked elsewhere: The Symphony in B-flat Major (No.2) is believed to have been written by Mozart's father, Leopold Mozart. The Symphony in E-flat Major (No.3, not attributed to Beethoven!!) a work of Carl Friedrich Abel, and the Symphony in G Major (No.37) belongs to a close friend of Mozart, Michael Haydn.

In the previous post on Mozart, I discussed the Prague Symphony No.38 (in D Major, K.504) and its importance as one of the final five symphonies Mozart wrote. This week's symphony is among that group, it is the penultimate in the genre Mozart would ever compose and is probably the most recognized among his symphonies, that being Symphony No.40 in G Minor, K.550

This symphony is among a lonely group of two written in a minor key. The post on Mozart's 25th Symphony in G minor, has that symphony coined as the "little g minor" work as it is the Fortieth, completed five years later in the same key that is considered the "Grand G minor" symphony. The work was completed during the summer of 1778, a particularly busy period for the composer as that summer he produced his final three symphonies (39: June 26; 40: July 25; and 41: August 10).

1. Molto Allegro


Very little is known of the premise for this symphony's composition. While many guess at the history behind this, speculation also exists surrounding the thematic material of this work and how it is to be interpreted. One universally known subject is that the circumstances of Mozart's life when he wrote the piece were devastatingly grim. Mozart was falling deeper into poverty, his popularity was of equal recession among the Viennese public and marital strains were tense, including the reaction to the death of one of Mozart's children shortly near time of composition. In a letter written to a close friend begging for a loan, all the emotion seemed to perpetuate itself in the text Mozart wrote. "Black thoughts...often come to me. Thoughts that I push away with a tremendous effort."

2. Andante

Part I

Part 2

With all the expression that appears to be embedded within the symphony, Alfred Einstein noted the two outer movements "plunge into the abyss of the soul," while Charles Rosen called the work a "supreme expression of suffering and terror," Mozart was strictly planted in the classical tradition, he never intended his composition to be stem from the bank of his personal emotions.

3. Menuetto: Trio


While that classical tradition may have been upheld personally by Mozart, it is easily arguable and disagreed with nowadays. The symphony displays such innovation in its unusual harmonic tension that it foreshadows 20th century musical exploration by three centuries. This can be seen in the opening of the first movement, which could easily be described as dark. While this is not necessarily true of the melody, the dark color is provided from the accompanying strings in pulsing strategy. Of this technique, which became popular among Romantics, the opening to Rachmaninoff's Third Piano Concerto is a considerable example.

The athletic chromaticism of the first movement is mirrored in a more subtle way in the Andante. The movement opens stately, presenting an idea that seems almost familiar and safe before breaking into a series of short two-note figures, called Seufzer (sighs) in Mozart's day. The violins add a counter melody that rises in unexpected directions as the movement explores various chromatic relationships against an insistent, but reserved, ostinato background. The forceful Menuetto drops the Symphony into its path of urgency once more. The style of the movement may follow the form and rhythm of that of the courtly dance its labeled but its impression is anything but courtly and decorous. Critics have come to uniformly describe the movement's powerful polyphony as "fierce," and "stern." The mild G major trio offers a brief respite and joyous trivial moments from the main effect of the "grim" Minuet.

4. Allegro assai

Part I

Part II

The Finale (Allegro assai) begins with a brief, rising two-bar gesture that quickly becomes the thematic material. For Mozart especially, the Finale movement of this work is deep with difficult harmonic passages. One could argue that the harmonic exploration of the symphony extracts another element out of the movement, which was composed in a purely classical style, eight bar phrases expressing a sense of rhythmic squareness. One notable part is found at the beginning of the development section in which a remarkable modulating passage occurs that strongly destabilizes the key. The passage sees every tone but one in the chromatic scale played, suitably the one note left out is a g-natural (the tonic).

True to the Mozart standard, he embarks on an unusual voyage, but in the end his musical language still achieves a balance, order, and resolution.

Of popular mention: Ludwig van Beethoven was particularly fond of this symphony, once having sketched 29 measures from the score into his workbook. The fourth movement alone is shown to have inspired Beethoven the most. It's inspiration can be seen in the third movement of his Fifth Symphony, and in addition the opening motive of his Piano Sonata in F minor, Op.2, No.1. The harmonic tension of the Andante movement could also be argued as being present in the second movement of Beethoven's Seventh Symphony.

Other reading for more on the Symphony:

1. Mozart and the treatment of the Classical Orchestra in Symphony No.40 and his extension of the orchestral colors of Stamitz and CPE Bach. Here

2. Program and historical analysis of the Symphony in a program for the Redwood Symphony. Here

Of the video:
Nikolaus Harnoncourt conducts the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra at the Suntory Hall, Tokyo, Japan in November 11th, 2006. a truly fantastic performance

Well it feels nice giving a non-Mozart post for the first time in over a month. Not that there is anything I have against Mozart, but as they always say, too much of anything over a given period of time is enough.

Anyway, today I thought since it hasn't been covered yet, a concerto from the master, Mr. Beethoven would be different. Seeing as I'm especially fond of the piano, the fact that I've done few of the big time works for the instrument surprises me. The Mozart Concerto No.9 is the only one I can think of recently.

Oh well, time for a new turn perhaps. Today we start at the very beginning with Beethoven's Piano Concerto No.1 in C major, Op.15. The concerto was written during 1796-97 and was first performed in Prague in 1798 with Beethoven himself playing the piano.

The concerto, despite being recognized as the first, was Beethoven's third attempt in the genre. It followed an unpublished concerto in E-flat major (not to be mistaken for the "Emperor" concerto no.5) and the second Piano Concerto, which was published after the first in 1801 but was written almost ten years earlier.

Third Movement


The video is a fantastic rendition of this concerto's third movement with the great Krystian Zimmerman performing and conducting what I assume to be the Vienna Philharmonic. The spirited and delicate sound Zimmerman gets from the piano blends greatly with the force of the orchestra and a great ensemble experience is achieved.

So this is technically last week's update but nonetheless, it's here now.

The next installment of the Top 100 Classical Concertos finds attraction with the piano and the violin with two apiece and then as noted above, a concerto for lute finds its way into the mix.

The next 5: 79-75

79. Bach Violin Concerto in E Major, BWV1042

Elissa Lee Koljonen performs the 1st movement with the Gustav Mahler Youth Orchestra, conducted by James Judd.

78. Shostakovich Violin Concerto No.1 in A minor, Op.77

Sayaka Shoji performs the third movement with the NHK Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Charles Dutoit.

77. Prokofiev Piano Concerto No.3 in C Major, op.26

Olli Mustonen performs the first movement with the City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Sakari Oramo.

76. Mozart Piano Concerto No.9 in E-flat Major, K.271

Mitsuko Uchida performs the third movement with the Mozarteum Orchestra, conducted by Jeffrey Tate.

75. Vivaldi Lute Concerto in D Major, RV93

John Williams performs the first two movements with the Orquesta Sinfonica de Sevilla, conducted by Jose Buenagu.

Technically, in reference to the title of the post the Lute concerto wins as it is ranked the highest out of the group. Though personally, I would have the Shostakovich much higher on the list, and the Prokofiev and the Mozart, heck the Bach as well.

So comes the first installment where I don't necessarily agree with the placement of the concertos. I'm sure there will be many more.

As for the Mozart video, I'm sure some will notice it's been used a lot now but I just find it as such a perfect interpretation, plus great quality.