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UMS Concert Program, May 9, 10, 11, 12, 1963: The Seventieth Annual Ann Arbor May Festival -- The Philadelphia Orchestra

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Season: Eighty-fourth
Concert: SIXTH
Hill Auditorium, Ann Arbor, Michigan

of The University of Michigan
Program of the Seventieth Annual
Six Concerts
May 9, 10, 11, 12, 1963
Hill Auditorium, Ann Arbor, Michigan
Published by the University Musical Society, Ann Arbor
Page Arthur Hill (photograph)............................. 4
University Musical Society, Board of Directors........ 5
Performing Artists................................... 7
Concert Programs.................................... 8
First Concert ....................................... 17
Second Concert...................................... 29
Third Concert....................................... 42
Fourth Concert ..................................... 51
Fifth Concert....................................... 61
Sixth Concert....................................... 72
Notes on the Philadelphia Orchestra and May Festival Artists............................................ 79
The University Choral Union.......................... 85
The Philadelphia Orchestra........................... 87
History, Repertoire, and Resume
The University Musical Society........................ 88
The Ann Arbor May Festival.......................... 89
Choral Union Repertoire ............................. 90
Resume of 1962-63 Season ........................... 92
Concerts for the 1963-64 Season...................... 98
Hill Auditorium, home of the Ann Arbor May Festival for fifty years, was constructed from funds bequeathed to the University by the late Arthur Hill of Saginaw. Mr. Hill, a genuine patron of the arts and an alumnus of the University, was for twelve years a
continued on page 6
Board of Directors
Charles A. Sink, A.B., M.Ed., LL.D., HH.D. . . President Alexander G. Ruthven, Ph.D., LL.D., Sc.D. . Vice-President
Erich A. Walter, A.M...........Secretary
Oscar A. Eberbach, A.B..........Treasurer
Roscoe 0. Bonisteel, LL.B., LL.D., Sc.D.
Assistant Secretary-Treasurer
James R. Breakey, Jr., A.M., LL.B., LL.D. Harlan Hatcher, Ph.D., Litt.D., LL.D. Harley A. Haynes, M.D. Thor Johnson, M.Mus., Mus.D. E. Blythe Stason, A.B., B.S., J.D. Henry F. Vaughan, M.S., Dr.P.H.
Merlin Wiley, A-B., LL.B.
(Died, April 24, 1963)
Gail W. Rector, B.Mus., Executive Director
THE UNIVERSITY MUSICAL SOCIETY is a nonprofit organiza?tion devoted to educational purposes. For eighty-four years its concerts have been maintained through the sale of tickets. Gifts, credited to the Endowment Fund, will commensurately ensure continuance of the quality of concert presentation and make possible advances in scope and activity as new opportunities arise.
HILL AUDITORIUM (continued from page 4)
member of the Board of Regents. He showed a keen personal interest in the cultural education of the student body and found much satis?faction in student participation in the arts.
In order to construct an auditorium which to the Regents would be a truly monumental structure, the Regents appropriated addi?tional funds for the building. The Auditorium, in 1913, had a seating capacity of 4,500. The renovation of seats in 1948 and, more re?cently, an extension of the projection booth and a convertible orchestra pit have reduced the seating capacity to 4,100. These renovations, despite the reduction of seating capacity, have not only provided greater comfort for the audience but have made possible certain staged productions. Curtains, lines for lights, and scenic drops are now available. They may be installed without changing the permanent physical appearance of the hall or its fine acoustical qualities.
The University Musical Society is aware of the opportunities ahead in the cultural life of this community. There is the increasing availability of the world's leading performing groups, including the great opera and ballet companies, that additional facilities would accommodate and thus bring greater cultural activity. Providing adequate onstage and backstage conditions for the performers, as well as increasing lobby and rest room space and adding air condi?tioning for the comfort and convenience of the patrons, would give another impetus to Ann Arbor's prestige in the area of the perform?ing arts.
We welcome additional gifts to help carry on the great traditions built up over the years by the University Musical Society.
Eugene Ormandy, Orchestral Conductor
William Smith, Assistant Orchestral Conductor
Thor Johnson, Guest Conductor
Lester McCoy, Chorusntaster
The Philadelphia Orchestra The University Choral Union
Isaac Stern .....................................Violinist
Rudolf Serkin....................................Pianist
Peter Serkin .....................................Pianist
Grant Johannesen................................Pianist
E. Power Biggs ..................................Organist
Adele Addison ...................................Soprano
John McCollum...................................Tenor
Donald Bell ....................................Baritone
Edwin G. Burrows...............................Narrator
Anthony Gigliotti ...............................Clarinet
Bernard Garfield ................................Bassoon
Gilbert Johnson ................................Trumpet
(Biographical sketches of all performers on pages 79 to 84)
The Sleinway is the official piano of the University Musical Society. The Baldwin Piano is the official piano of the Philadelphia Orchestra.
Thursday Evening, May 9, at 8:30
E. POWER BIGGS, Organist
Suite from "The Music for the Royal Fireworks"...........Handel-Harty
Overture Alia Siciliana Bourree Menuetto
Concerto in G minor for Organ, Strings, and Timpani.............Poulenc
E. Power Biggs
Three Symphonic Excerpts from the Opera Lulu.....................Berg
Ostinato: allegro
[played without pause]
?Symphony No. 3 in C minor, Op. 78 ("Organ") ..............Saint-Saens
Adagio, allegro moderato ; poco adagio
Allegro moderato, presto; maestoso; allegro; molto allegro
Mr. Biggs at the organ Columbia Records
Friday Evening, May 10, at 8:30
THOR JOHNSON. Guest Conductor
Te Deum .....................................................Verdi
University Choral Union
Variations for Piano and Orchestra.................Wallingford Riegger
Grant Johannesen
?"Still Are New Worlds" .............................Ross Lee Finney
University Choral Union and Edwin G. Burrows
Fantasia for Piano and Orchestra in
C major, Op. IS (''Wanderer") .......................Schubert-Liszt
Grant Johannesen World premibre
Saturday Afternoon, May 11, at 2:30
Variations on a Theme by Haydn, Op. 56a.......................Brahms
Poco piu animato
Piii vivace
Con moto
Andante con moto
Presto non troppo
Finale: andante
Duet-Concertante for Clarinet and Bassoon,
with Harp and Strings......................................Strauss
Anthony Gigliotti and Bernard Garfield
Symphonie fantastique, Op. 14A ..............................Berlioz
Largo; allegro agitato e appassionato assai Vake: allegro non troppo Adagio
Allegretto non troppo
Larghetto; allegro assai; allegro
''Columbia Records
Saturday Evening, May 11, at 8:30
ISAAC STERN, Violinist
Trumpet Voluntary ..........................................Purcell
Gilbert Johnson, Solo Trumpet
?Concerto in E minor for Violin and
Orchestra, Op. 64.....................................Mendelssohn
Allegro molto appassionato Andante
Allegro non troppo; allegro vivace molto
Isaac Stern intermission
Concerto No. 1 in D major for Violin
and Orchestra, Op. 19 ....................................Prokofiev
Scherzo: vivacissimo Moderato
Mr. Stern
Symphony No. 2 in D major, Op. 73 ............................Brahms
Allegro non troppo Adagio non troppo
Allegretto grazioso, quasi andantino Allegro con spirito
Columbia Records
Sunday Afternoon, May 12, at 2:30
THOR JOHNSON, Guest Conductor
THE CREATION.............Haydn
University Choral Union and Soloists
Introduction--Representation of Chaos
Recitative (Raphael):
Recitative (Uriel):
Air (Uriel):
Recitative (Raphael):
Solo (Gabriel) and Chorus:
Recitative (Raphael):
Air (Raphael):
Recitative (Gabriel):
Air (Gabriel):
Recitative (Uriel):
Recitative (Uriel):
Recitative (Uriel):
Chorus with Trio:
Recitative (Gabriel):
Air (Gabriel):
Recitative (Raphael):
Recitative (Raphael):
Terzetto (Gabriel, Raphael, and Uriel):
Trio and Chorus:
In the beginning
And the Spirit of God
And God saw the light
Now vanish'd by the holy beams
Despairing, cursing rage
And God made the firmament
The marv'lous work
And God said: Let the waters under the heaven
Rolling in foaming billows
And God said, Let all the earth
Now rob'd in refreshing green
And the heavenly host
Awake the harp
And God said: Let there be lights
In shining splendor
The heavens are telling
And God said: Let the waters bring forth
On mighty wings
And God created great whales
And the angels struck their immortal harps
The fairest raiment now
The Lord is great
Recitative (Raphael):
Recitative (Raphael):
Are (Raphael):
Recitative (Uriel):
Air (Uriel):
Recitative (Raphael):
Introduction and Recitative (Uriel):
Duet (Adam, Eve) and Chorus:
Duet (Adam, Eve) and Chorus:
Duet (Adam, Eve) and Chorus:
And God said, Let earth bring forth
Straight opening her fertile womb
Now shines the brightest glory
And God created man
In native worth
And God saw everything that He had made
Achieved is the glorious work
In rosy mantle
By Thee with grace
Thou star of morning
Ye creatures of our God and King
Hail! Bounteous Lord! Almighty, hail!
Sunday Evening, May 12, at 8:30
(Transcribed for orchestra by Lucien Cmlliet)
Symphony No. 35 in D major ("Haffner"), K. 385 ................Mozart
Allegro con spirito Andante
Menuetto Presto
Concerto No. 10 in E-flat major for Two
Pianos and Orchestra, K. 365 ................................Mozart
Andante Rondo
Rudolf and Peter Serkin
?Concerto No. 4 in G major for Piano and Orchestra, Op. 58 .......................................Beethoven
Allegro moderato
Andante con moto Rondo: vivace
Rudolf Serkin
Columbia Records
The Author of the annotations expresses his appreciation to
Ferol Brinkman and Judith McCormick oj the University Publications
Office for their editorial services.
Thursday Evening, May 9
Suite from "The Music for the Royal Fireworks" . . Handel-Harty
Georg Friedrich Handel was born in Halle, Feb?ruary 23, 1685; died in London, April 14, 17S9.
Strong in new arms, lo! giant Handel stands, Like bold Briareus, with a hundred hands; To stir, to rouse, to shake the soul he comes, And Jove's own thunders follow Mars's drums.
The year nineteen hundred fifty-nine marked the bicentennial of the death of Georg Friedrich Handel, one of the titans of music, yet the most shamefully neglected of composers. Although Messiah is known throughout the civilized world and is perhaps the most beloved of all choral works, a large part of its faithful public is unaware of the fact that Handel wrote thirty-one other oratorios, to say nothing of forty-six operas and a staggering amount of instru?mental music. This generation should not have to wait for the tricentennial of his birth, which will not occur until 1985, to be made once more aware of the magnitude and glory of his art.
Handel is a perfect subject for an extended and world-wide celebration of this sort for several reasons. Three countries have a national justification for holding him in highest esteem: Germany, the land of his birth; Italy, where he received his early training and experience; and England, the land of his adoption, where he created most of his music over a period of a half-century and where he lies buried in the poets' corner of Westminster Abbey among the immortals of English letters.
Handel composed in every form known to his age. In addition to the incredible number of operas and oratorios, he produced Passion music, anthems, Te Deums, cantatas, duets, trios, songs, pasticcios, incidental music for the stage, serenades, and odes. His output of instrumental music was equally fabulous. Numbered among his complete works are sonatas, trios, organ concertos, suites, concerti grossi, overtures, and music for the harpsichord, harp, and ballet. Thus, there is readily available for opera houses, choral societies, individual singers, and instrumentalists throughout the world an almost inexhaustible wealth and variety of practically unknown music by this, the last great master of the Baroque era.
One of Handel's most rewarding seasons in London was that of the year 1748-49. This was due in part to the fact that the war of the Austrian Succession had been brought to a successful, if not a glorious, close and momentarily
Georg Friedrich Handel Wcrke (Leipzig: Brdtkopf and Hirtel, 94 volumes, 18S8; 6 supplemental volumes, 1888-1902).
at least England looked forward to a bright future. The populace was in a mood for pleasure and relaxation from tension. After the signing of the peace at Aix-la-Chapelle in October, King George II set aside a day for national thanksgiving. He instructed Handel, who was reaching the height of his popularity with English audiences, to prepare appropriate music for what was hoped to be the greatest celebration of peace in the history of England. In the "Green Park" next to Buckingham House, the precursor of the present palace, an enormous wooden building was constructed by the eccentric Italian architect Servandoni. It rose to a height well over one hundred feet and was extended imposingly by means of two wings on either side of the central building. Above a huge musicians' gallery that accommodated more than one hundred players was placed a figure of Peace attended by Neptune and Mars. Over the central section a bas-relief of King George handing peace to Britannia was topped by a great pole that held an enormous sun.
As this monstrosity took shape, the town was agog with excitement, and when it was learned that Handel had completed his music ahead of schedule and that there was to be a full rehearsal at Vaux Hall Gardens on the twenty-first of April, the London public, twelve thousand strong, held up traffic on London Bridge for over three hours in their eagerness to obtain tickets at two shillings sixpence apiece! Such response to a mere rehearsal of the music, sans fireworks and decorations, was not only evidence of the enthusiasm which Handel's name engendered, but it forewarned those in charge to prepare further for the real celebration six days later. A fifty-foot hole was cut in the wall to facilitate entering and departing from the park. The fireworks display was to be initiated by a blast from one hundred brass cannons; eighteen smaller guns under the musicians gallery were to fire shots during the performance of Mr. Handel's much anticipated music. On the twenty-seventh of April, King George, in a state of elation, inspected the building, distributed money to those who had constructed it, and reviewed the guards. Crowds assembled, coaches blocked the streets, and organized bands of pickpockets practiced their profession with alacrity.
Handel had collected a spectacular group of instruments that included forty trumpets, twenty French horns, sixteen hautbois (oboes), sixteen bassoons, eight pairs of kettle drums, twelve side drums, and flutes and fifes. The huge sun at the top of the pole burst into glorious flames illuminating the park, and Handel's music was greeted with wild applause. What happened when the music ceased is vividly described by Newman Flower:
The crowd, splayed like a black carpet in the flare of the lights, roared ... A rocket stole up, exploded, drifted away in sparks. A surge of excitement spread with a dull muffled murmur over the crowd. It was the signal for the fireworks, and the hundred and one little brass cannon roared in unison.
But the fireworks were muddled. They went off in fits and starts. The giant sun alone blazed nobly from the head of the pole. Little serpents of flame sped up the staging, fizzled and spluttered and went out. Men climbed like monkeys with torches, and lit things, lit them again. Thus hours passed with fitful display, followed by intervals of irritating failure.
Then came the climax. The great building was set on fire; in a few minutes it was a mass of beating, roaring flame. The crowd began to stampede, to shout, to hustle. Women were trodden down, and the heat became terrific. George giving Peace to Britannia dropped, with his head aflame, into a cauldron of fire. It was ignoble, humiliating. And so hysterical became the gallant little Italian Chevalier Servandoni when he witnessed the failure and destruction of all his organization, that he drew his sword upon the Duke of Montagu, and was promptly arrested.
The only success that had come from this national celebration had been Handel's.
Originally the Royal Fireworks Music included an imposing overture and five short movements. This evening we hear Sir Hamilton Harty's arrange?ment which retains all but one minuet. The Overture is followed by the Alia Siciliana which is subtitled "La Paix" (Peace). A brusque Bourrie (a French 17th-century dance in quick duple meter with a single upbeat) is followed by the final movement, a Minuetto, in which Harty has combined two minuets in Handel's original score.
Concerto in G minor for Organ, Strings, and Timpani . Poulenc
Francois Poulenc was born in Paris, January 7, 1899; died in Paris, January 30, 1963.
I have sought neither to ridicule nor to mimic tradi?tion, but to compose naturally, as I felt impelled to.
After the end of the First World War a group of young avant-garde com?posers, rebelling against the rich and wandering chromaticism of Cesar Franck and wearying of the vagueness and evanescence of Debussy (who, they declared, had "drawn French music into an impasse" with his glamorous veiled dissonances), grouped themselves together as the Societe des nouveaux jeunes. It included Arthur Honegger, Darius Milhaud, Franqois Poulenc, Germaine Tailleferre, Louis Durey, and Georges Auric. They were publicly recognized in an article appearing in Comoedia, January 16, 1920, by Henry Collet, who referred to them as "Les Six," "an inseparable group who by a magnificent and voluntary return to simplicity have brought about a renaissance of French music." The only thing they really had in common as artists was the patronage of Eric Satie and Jean Cocteau and a desire to react violently against the pastel music of the Impressionists and the elaborate and involved grandiose style of late Romanticism, which they opposed with a music that was direct, clean-cut, witty and, for its time, sophisticated. Actually they were quite independent of each other artistically. Of the six only Honegger, Milhaud, and Poulenc achieved international recognition, and certainly each of these strongly individual composers maintained a high degree of stylistic indepen?dence throughout his career. They were active in the day of the "futurists"
Newman Flower, George Frideric Handel, His Personality and His Times (London: Cassell and Com?pany Limited, new and rev. ed., 1959), pp. 326-27.
and "cubists" in painting, a time of innovation, ridicule, and violent disputes in aesthetic matters, a time when young composers were floundering in an artistic vacuum. The long steady tradition of Romanticism had spent its strength. In France, Claude Debussy had both opposed and, in a way, brought it to fruition, but by 1915 his impressive work was finished, and no new impulse had taken its place. "Les Six" blithely ignored the problems of composition inherited from him and the late Romanticists. In their gay, trivial, and often impertinent music they scorned all tradition. Behind their disrespect for the "presumptuous composer" of the past and his musical conventions was no doubt a fear that emanated from the fact that they found themselves lost and wandering in an artistic wasteland. "Atonality," "twelve-tone technique," "quarter-tone technique," "barbarism," "brutism," "futurism," "machine mu?sic," and "Gebrauchtsmusik" were some of the signposts that led nowhere.
French music between the two world wars, in spite of its conscious attempt to advance the cause of the new in music, labored to little avail against the firm purposefulness of Stravinsky and Schonberg. Although much trivial and unsubstantial music was produced in this period, France was able to keep the attention of the musical world upon her, recapturing to a degree some of her former eminence through the highly lyrical and varied genius of Poulenc, an artist who had freed himself from tradition but was not disrespectful of it. In spite of the ambivalence of his style that ranges from witty impertinence to re?ligious fervor and somber tragedy, it remained that of a true classicist to the end, proudly restrained, clear, refined, and elegant.
The great classical literature for the solo organ is comparatively well known to musical audiences. The long traditional use of the instrument in concerted music, however, is less familiar. Hector Berlioz once wrote that the symphony orchestra was the king of instruments, the organ the pope. This statement not only points up the fact that throughout the history of music the orchestra has had fundamentally a secular function to perform, the organ a religious one, but that in the vast field of music literature these instruments have seldom joined forces and have remained as separated as church and state. Cathedral organs and concert hall orchestras are seldom found under the same roof. The fact remains, however, that although the number of works combining these two media is limited, it is more extensive than imagined.
In the early seventeenth century small portative organs were used in arbitrary combinations, with harps, viols, lyres, cornets, sackbuts (medieval trombones), and other popular instruments of the day. Conscious attempts to write simul?taneously for the organ and orchestral instruments are found in such distin?guished composers as Corelli, sonatas for strings and organ; Handel, organ concertos; Mozart, Salzburg organ sonatas with orchestra; Johann Sebastian Bach, sinfonias to cantatas. Other composers who have contributed to this unique combination are von Weber, Saint-Saens (the "Organ Symphony" on tonight's program), Richard Strauss, and Paul Hindemith. Our own American composers Leo Sowerby, Roy Harris, Quincy Porter, Howard Hanson, and Walter Piston have added beguiling works to this literature.
The "Organ Concerto" on tonight's program was composed in Paris in 1938 and dedicated to the Princess Edmond de Polignac, a patroness of the arts. It was first performed at the Paris Conservatory in 1941 under the direction of Charles Munch. Maurice Durufle was the soloist. The work is in one move?ment with six discernible sections played without interruption:
I. Andante. The organ announces a brief opening, written in a quasi-declama?tory style. It is followed by a section in which the organ is augmented by timpani, pizzicati basses, and later strings.
II. Allegro giocoso. The strings announce a spirited rhythmic theme which later reaches a brilliant climax as it is joined by scale passages in the organ. It reappears at the end of section II.
III. Andante moderato. This, the longest part of the composition, is filled with contrapuntal passages that grow slowly but increasingly more intense. A quiet passage leads directly into section IV.
IV. Allegro, molto agitato. Coming as it does between two slow sections, this mercurial and slightly agitated passage offers the strongest of contrasts. Strings lead to section V.
V. Tres calme, lent. The organ in a single line melody (tres doux et clair) is accompanied by softly played strings. The assertive rhythmic theme of the first allegro (section II) reappears with the organ scale passages.
VI. Largo. The organ restates the opening andante (section I). An extended pedal point on G creates a quiet, broad, and noble mood in which short effective solo passages appear in the viola and cello against pizzicati strings. The organ ends the work with brief chords.
Three Symphonic Excerpts from the Opera Lulu .... Berg
Alban Berg was born in Vienna, February 7, 1885; died in Vienna, December 24, 193S.
If it is art, it is not for all, and if it is for all, it is not art.
Arnold Schonberg (1874-1951), the greatest innovator in twentieth-century music, took one of the most courageous and significant stands against established tradition ever assumed by a creative artist. In 1908-9 he wrote the last work in which he used a key signature (String Quartet No. 2 in F-sharp minor, Op. 10). From then on the feeling of a home key was forsaken, and the dis?tinction between consonance and dissonance abolished. This music is popularly referred to as atonal. Schonberg objected to the word and preferred "pan-tonal" or all inclusive tonality. The abandonment of tonality is, so far, the major achievement of twentieth-century music. By 1923 Schonberg had evolved a new method of composing, using the twelve chromatic tones of the octave. Arranging them arbitrarily for each new work into a "series" or "row," he avoided any reference to the traditional diatonic system of major and minor
scales or keys. This technique became known as "serial," and the music result?ing from the use of the twelve chromatic tones, as "dodecaphonic." In his reaction to the over-extended forms and romantic subjectivity of the romantic composers of the nineteenth century, Schonberg evolved a rigidly objective and highly intellectualized system, the use of which resulted in the creation of a music that was marked by the utmost formal concentration, thematic logic, yet perpetual variation of rhythm, texture, dynamics, and timbre.
Schonberg's method of strict serial composition was exploited by his two disciples and pupils, Alban Berg and Anton Webern (1883-1945). Their ex?tension of his compositional methods has led to the most advanced and challenging musical thinking of our time. While Webern's treatment of the system led directly to present-day exploration, that of Berg achieved a remark?able synthesis with the past. By temperament he was a romantic; his essentially dodecaphonic style is warmed by the same impulses that conditioned the art of Schumann, Brahms, Wagner, and particularly Mahler. Berg met Schonberg in the autumn of 1904 and remained his pupil for the next six years. The relationship between pupil and teacher was built upon the greatest mutual respect and deepest personal affection. On the occasion of the premiere of Berg's Wozzeck, now the universally acknowledged twentieth-century master-work for the lyric theater, Schonberg publicly addressed these words to him:
I am happy to have this opportunity to pay tribute to the work and achievements of my pupil and friend, Alban Berg. Are not he and our mutual friend, his co-student, Anton von Webern, the strongest proof of my efficiency as a teacher Were they not both, in the time of my severest artistic tribulations, a prop secure, reliable, loving, the very best that I have found on earth But lest you should be led to believe that only gratitude and friendship inspire this tribute, remember that I too can read music; that there was a time when notes which seemed mere hieroglyphics to all other musicians fired my imagination; inspired me with an impression of this talent. And I am proud that my conviction and its correctness gave me the opportunity to guide this great gift to its proper goal, to the most marvelous flowering of individuality, to the greatest self-sufficiency.
I should like to say: friendship first, yet I must say: art first. But there is really no need to hesitate. The demands of friendship and of art are reconcilable here. The friend may praise the artist; the artist may praise the friend, no, must praise, if he would be just . . . So hail to thee, Alban Berg.t
The prospect of a work like Berg's Lulu finding a fixed place in the operatic repertory is, unfortunately, remote. Audiences, though fascinated by it as masterful theater, are more often puzzled and revolted by its themes of sudden death, suicide, murder, sex, and perversion. Briefly the story concerns Lulu, a dispassionate beauty who draws men to their destruction. In the course of the drama she drives her lovers, among them a countess and a schoolboy, to degradation and ruin without the slightest feeling of regret. A completely amoral creature, she murders her third husband and is tried, found guilty, and imprisoned. Upon her release she sinks to the depths of depravity, and as a
Other works on these programs built upon this system are: Wallingford Riegger's Variations for Piano and Orchestra and Ross Lee Finney's "Still Are New Worlds," pages 33 to 37.
tWilli Reich, "A Guide to Alban Berg's Opera Wozzeck, Monograph No. 2 of a series published by the League of Composers in Modern Music, a quarterly review.
woman of the streets in the London slums is lured by Jack the Ripper to a ghastly death. Mr. de Schauensee quotes a Prague critic in his program notes for the Philadelphia Orchestra (September 20, 1962) on the deeper meaning of Lulu's character:
Lulu is a heroine of four dimensional power in her endurance and her suffering, de?stroying all that she magnetizes. She is a phenomenon of nature, beyond good and evil, a complete cosmos whose secrets, altogether removed from ordinary comprehension, can be revealed only by the music. The way this glowing ball of fire scorches everybody that it touches and finally burns itself out, leaving all life about it extinguished or fading away, has led the metaphysician in the composer to make the transposition to those unearthly spheres, where figures flicker in death like dream images, illumined only by the last dying afterglow of a great irresponsible demon.
Laurence Gilman described her, too, as a "symbol of human passion and agony and frustration and defeat." She is the creation of Frank Wedekind (1864-1918) who wrote two dramatic tragedies, Erdgeist ("Earth-Spirit") and Die Bueckse der Pandora ("Pandora's Box"), upon which Berg based his own libretto. In these dramas the characters seem to exist for the purpose of giving living form to ideas.
"His characters are all caricatures, dangling puppets with a lamentable ab?sence of destiny about them." writes Egon Friedell. "The root of all this is in Wedekind's atheism, and the correlative of it is his amorality, which culminates in his two-part Lulu tragedy. The figure of Lulu has the same significance for Wedekind as Faust for Goethe, or Richard III for Shakespeare. She is the extreme opposite of Richard, who is the supreme force of evil intended and planned in full consciousness, whereas she is the same, but entirely without her own knowledge or will. And there only is the final dissolution of Christian ethics reached. For the extreme of atheism is not the Devil, the dark angel who knows of his fall, but the angel without a soul."
In this drama we are constantly transported from the world of action, violent and realistic as it may be, to the world of the mind. It is exactly at this point that Berg's music emerges, so astonishingly apposite to the mental state of the characters, constantly illuminating the inner meaning of the drama. "Its poignant intensity of feeling," in the words of Laurence Gilman, "is as little to be resisted by the susceptible as the exalting tenderness of its pity and grief." The score of Lulu contains some of Berg's most inspired pages. It is neither strictly dodeca?phonic nor noticeably atonal, although most of the music is built upon a tone row. More important, however, it reveals the refinement and sensitivity of his style, his orchestral magic with its dazzling colors and textures, and his power to create a highly evocative atmosphere: an aura of unreality envelops the whole score, transporting us to a world of mind and feeling.
Schonberg and Berg are the chief representatives of Expressionism in music. Atonalism in music and Expressionism in art and literature were simultaneous movements in the early twenties, and both were used to express man's bewilder-
Egon Friedell, A Cultural History ol the Modern Age, trans, by Charles Francis Atkinson (New York: Alfred Knopf, 1932), III, 423.
ment in the modern world; his frustrations, anxieties, and fears; his feeling of isolation; and his rebellion against forces over which he has no control. These feelings were expressed in the paintings of Vassily Kandinsky, Oscar Kokoschka, Franz Marc, and Paul Klee with their distorted images, strange conflicting shapes, bold dynamic lines, and violently contrasting colors; in the halluci?nated visions of Franz Kafka and the "stream of consciousness" school of writers. Expressionism in the arts had its inception in the theories of Sigmund Freud that dealt with the shadowy realm of the unconscious. The arts, too, began to explore into inner psychic states and experiences, and to make them manifest in color, word, and tone with desperate intensity and a maximum of expressive force. Berg's two operas Wozzeck and Lulu are towering master?pieces of expressionistic art in music.
Lulu was begun in 1928, shortly after the completion of Wozzeck, but the work progressed slowly. Berg died December 24, 1935, when he had only par?tially realized his plans for the last act. He had also composed (1934) a five-movement orchestral suite derived from the score, which Erich Kleiber per?formed in Berlin late in November (1935). On December 11 the suite was heard in Vienna, and Berg, who attended the performance, mortally ill, sur?vived it only thirteen days. The first stage performance of Lulu was given one and one-half years after his death on June 2, 1937, in Zurich. Twelve years passed before it was heard again--this time at the Teatro La Fenice in Venice in September 1949.
Four of the original five of the orchestral excerpts will be played at this performance. The first, Ostinato, is taken from the interlude between scenes 1 and 2 in Act II. In the opera it accompanies a cinematographic scene that covers the events of the year after Lulu's arrest and imprisonment. The music, in hur?ried movement, seems to arrive nowhere--an indication of Lulu's situation when she resumes life again after release from prison. Variations is based upon a Berlin streetwalker's song which Berg borrowed from a volume of lute songs collected by Frank Wedekind. In the opera it is first heard played as a violin solo near the beginning of Act III. Adagio contains some of Berg's most affecting music. Four of the victims of Lulu's charms from Act I return, among them Jack the Ripper who murders her. It is in a way Lulu's "Liebestod," sung by another character. Like the magnificent instrumental tonal passage at the end of Wozzeck, it is the sad and tragic apotheosis of the whole opera.
In connection with Berg's symphonic excerpts the following lines, written by Mr. Ormandy at the request of Mr. de Schauensee, are interesting:
I met Alban Berg in the early 1930's, just when he bought a summer home on Lake Woerther with the money he got from Mr. Dushkin for composing the violin concerto. He also bought his first automobile at that time and he would drive over to our place on Lake Ossiacher quite often to discuss music, composition, and the trend of contemporary music. He often told me of his great admiration for Schonberg and Bartok, whom he considered, besides himself, the greatest composers of the 20th century. He was working feverishly on "Lulu" and showed me some of the unfinished pages. He had the feeling that this would be the criterion of his career. At that time I was not as well-versed in the twelve-tone school of music as I am now and I often asked him pertinent questions
about his writing. He always gave me answers which were intelligent, logical and under?standable. He was a disciple of Schonberg--to him Schonberg could do no wrong.
During one of our conversations I mentioned to Berg how nice it would be if composers of operas would take some of the important passages from the opera and compile them into a suite which could be played orchestrally in concerts. His reply was that he was thinking very seriously of doing this. After his rather sudden death, a suite for orchestra from "Lulu" was published, which included the soprano aria. At the request of the Vienna Philharmonic I conducted this suite a number of years ago, and I believe it was a first performance of this work in Vienna. The effect on the public was rather mixed. Berg's followers were very enthusiastic, but those who didn't understand his music were conspicu?ously silent. The press was most enthusiastic.
Since that time I have wanted to conduct this suite in the United States. However, I was never able to get an outstanding enough soprano to learn the fiendishly difficult aria for the few performances with the Philadelphia Orchestra, so this season I will conduct three movements from the suite (Ostinato, Variations and Adagio). Some day I hope I will have the honor of conducting the whole opera which I think is one of the greatest masterpieces of the century.
Symphony No. 3 in C minor, Op. 78 ("Organ") . Saint-Saens
(Charles) Camille Saint-Saens was born in Paris, October 9, 1835; died in Algiers, December 16, 1921.
Grammarian, painter, augur, rhetorician, Rope-dancer, conjuror, fiddler and physician All trades his own, your hungry Greekling counts; And bid him mount the sky--the sky he mounts.
No other composer played so great a part in the formation of the modern French school of symphonic writing as Camille Saint-Saens; in the field of music in which France was weakest, he served her best. A thorough master of every technical detail of his art, he brought to everything he wrote a mastery of musical means and a skillful technical manipulation. Endowed with a pro?digious facility for production and a tremendous talent for the assimilation of musical thought, he was fabulously prolific and equally successful in every department of musical activity. He became a mercurial composer, an indefa?tigable teacher, a skillful pianist, a brilliant conductor--in which office he was active until after his eightieth year--an excellent organist, an incomparable improviser, and, besides distinguishing himself as a critic and editor, he was also a recognized poet, a dramatist, and a scientist of sorts. Nature had endowed him not only with a great intellect and talent, but also with a tremendous energy and inexhaustible capacity for work. There was hardly a branch of musical art he left untouched. He wrote piano and organ music, symphonies, symphonic poems, every variety of chamber music, cantatas, oratorios, masses, operas, songs, choral works, incidental music, operettas, ballets, transcriptions, and arrangements with equal ease and sureness. With a prodigious versatility he roamed the world of his imagination for inspiration, creating Breton and Auvergnian rhapsodies; Russian songs; Algerian suites; Portuguese barcarolles;
Philadelphia Program Notes, September 20, 1962.
Danish, Russian, and Arabian caprices; souvenirs of Italy; African fantasias; and Egyptian concertos. In the same manner he projected himself back into the ages past and wrote Greek tragedies, Biblical operas, pavans of the six?teenth century, minuets of the seventeenth, and preludes and fugues in the style of Bach. There was no composer he could not imitate with amazing perfection of style. "He could write at will a work in the style of Rossini, or Verdi, or Schumann, or of Wagner," wrote his fellow countryman and composer, Gounod, who never lost an opportunity of expressing admiration for his friend's wonderful gifts. This amazing versatility, however, was the source of his great weakness. Saint-Saens gave in his art, not himself, but a rather colorless and spiritless simulacrum of the masters of the past; he possessed the unfortunate faculty of assimilation. He knew all the styles, but he knew them superficially and only externally. Lacking in genuine warmth of temperament, in imagina?tion, perception, or genuine depth of sentiment, he made up in part for these major defects by the unquestionable power of his intuitive faculty, his natural charm of expression at all times, and his dexterous control of the technical elements of his art.
His works, however, are the product of an epoch in transition, and although not always intrinsic in value, they form so mountainous a bulk that the eye of the musical world turned perforce to France, at a period when she was poor in true musicians; they represented something which was unique in French music of the period--a great classical spirit and a fine breadth of musical culture. His personal tragedy was that although he wrote much, he added not an iota to the further progress of music.
Jean Aubry has made the most just estimate of Saint-Saens as an artist:
It would be idle to deny his merits and to look with indifference upon his works, but none of them really forms a part of our emotional life or satisfies the needs of our minds completely. They already appear as respectable and necessary documents in musical history, but not as the living emanations of genius which will retain their vitality in spite of the passing of time and fashions.
Saint-Saens wrote five symphonies. His first (1885) brought him immediate fame and the attention of Franz Liszt, Hector Berlioz, and Charles Gounod, all of whom exerted a powerful influence over his life and art. The second and third symphonies were never published and were finally discarded. Thus the fourth was listed as the second and the fifth, the "Organ Symphony" on to?night's program, as the third. Actually it was the last major effort he made in the symphonic form and the most expansive and elaborately worked out com?position he ever created for the orchestra.
The work was commissioned by the Philharmonic Society of London and had its world premiere at James Hall on May 19, 1886, with Saint-Saens con-ducting.f
Jean Aubry, Chesterian (London, January, 1922).
t The score carries the inscription "to the memory of Franz Liszt." Liszt died July 31, 1886, three months after the premiere. The inscription was not meant to be a dedication, but merely a tribute of admiration.
Its success was immediate, and for years it remained one of the most popular and frequently performed works in the symphonic repertory. The first Amer?ican performance was given by the Philharmonic Society in New York City on February 19, 1897, under the direction of Theodore Thomas.
Both European and American critics took note of its grandiose effects, its eloquence, and its masterful workmanship, but there was general concern ex?pressed as to its departure from established ideas of orchestration and con?struction. Saint-Saens, evidently aware that his arbitrary arrangement of move?ments and his unorthodox use of instruments might cause distress to the academicians, provided the following notes for the world premiere:
This symphony is divided into two parts, after the manner of Saint-Saens' Fourth Concerto for piano and orchestra and Sonata for piano and violin. Nevertheless, it includes practically the traditional four movements: the first, checked in development, serves as an introduction to the adagio, and the scherzo is connected, after the same manner with the finale. The composer has thus sought to shun in a certain measure the interminable repetitions which are more and more disappearing from instrumental music.
The composer thinks that the time has come for the symphony to benefit by the progress of modern instrumentation, and he therefore establishes his orchestra as follows: three flutes, two oboes, English horn, two clarinets, bass clarinet, two bassoons, double bassoon, four horns, three trumpets, three trombones, tuba, three kettledrums, organ, pianoforte (now for two hands and now for four), triangle, a pair of cymbals, bass drum, and the usual strings.
After an introduction, adagio, of a few plaintive measures the string quartet exposes the initial theme, which is somber and agitated (allegro moderate). The first transforma?tion of this theme leads to a second motive, which is distinguished by greater tranquillity; after a short development, in which the two themes are presented simultaneously, the motive appears in a characteristic form, for full orchestra, but only for a short time. A sec?ond transformation of the initial theme includes now and then the plaintive notes of the introduction. Varied episodes gradually bring calm, and thus prepare the adagio in D-flat. The extremely peaceful and contemplative theme is given to the violins, violas, and violoncellos, which are supported by organ chords. This theme is then taken by clarinet, horn, and trombone, accompanied by strings divided into several parts. After a variation (in ara?besques) performed by the violins, the. second transformation of the initial theme of the allegro appears again, and brings with it a vague feeling of unrest, which is enlarged by dissonant harmonies. These soon give way to the theme of the adagio, performed this time by some of the violins, violas, and violoncellos, with organ accompaniment and with a persistent rhythm of triplets presented by the preceding episode. This first movement ends in a coda of mystical character, in which are heard alternately the chords of D-flat major and E minor.
The second movement begins with an energetic phrase (allegro moderato), which is followed immediately by a third transformation of the initial theme in the first movement, more agitated than it was before, and into which enters a fantastic spirit that is frankly disclosed in the presto. Here arpeggios and scales, swift as lightning, on the pianoforte, are accompanied by the syncopated rhythm of the orchestra, and each time they are in a different tonality (F, E, E-flat, G). This tricky gayety is interrupted by an expressive phrase (strings). The repetition of the allegro moderato is followed by a second presto, which at first is apparently a repetition of the first presto; but scarcely has it begun before a new theme is heard, grave, austere (trombone, tuba, double basses), strongly contrasted with the fantastic music. There is a struggle for the mastery, and this struggle ends in the defeat of the restless, diabolical element. The phrase rises to orchestral heights, and rests there as in the blue of a clear sky. After a vague reminiscence of the initial theme of the first movement, a maestoso in C major announces the approaching triumph of the calm
and lofty thought. The initial theme of the first movement, wholly transformed, is now exposed by divided strings and the pianoforte (four hands), and repeated by the organ with the full strength of the orchestra. Then follows a development built in a rhythm of three measures. An episode of a tranquil and pastoral character (oboe, flute, English horn, clarinet) is twice repeated. A brilliant coda, in which the initial theme by a last transfor?mation takes the form of a violin figure, ends the work; the rhythm of three measures becomes naturally and logically a huge measure of three beats; each beat is represented by a whole note, and twelve quarters form the complete measure.
After the Paris premiere this symphony was declared a masterwork. "Voila le Beethoven de la France!" Charles Gounod exclaimed with greater enthusiasm than critical judgment. Contemporary criticism is not kind to Saint-Saens as a creative artist. Perhaps Philip Hale over thirty years ago wrote as reasonable an estimation as it is possible to accept today:
So far as an intimate knowledge of music as a science is concerned, so far as fluency and ease of expression are concerned, Saint-Saens was beyond a doubt a remarkable musician . . . Possessing an uncommon technical equipment as composer, pianist, organist; French in clear?ness of expression, logic, exquisite taste, a master of rhythm with a clear appreciation of tonal color and the value of simplicity in orchestration, he is seldom warm and tender; seldom does he indulge himself in sentiment, passion, imagination ... He seldom touches the heart or sweeps away the judgment. He was not a great creator, yet his name is ever to be mentioned with respect. Without consideration of his many admirable compositions, one should bear this in mind: In the face of difficulties, discouragement, misunderstanding, sneers, he worked steadily from his youth up, and always to the best of his ability, for righteousness in absolute music; he endeavored to introduce into French music thought-fulness and sincerity for the advantage and the glory of the country that he dearly loved.t
Philip Hale, Great Concert Music; Symphony Propam Notes (New York: Garden City Publishing Co., 1939). p. 2S6-57. t Ibid., p. 254.
Friday Evening, May 10
Composed in memory of Alessandro Manzoni
(Fortunio) Giuseppe (Francesco) Verdi was born in Le Roncole, October 10, 1813; died in Milan, January 27, 1901.
The year 1813 was of tremendous importance in the political world, and it was no less so in the domain of music, for it brought to earth two epoch-making geniuses, Richard Wagner and Giuseppe Verdi. In these two masters climaxed the greatest artistic forces of the entire nineteenth century. In them, the German and Italian opera established models that seemed to exhaust all conceivable possibili?ties within the two cultures. Representing two great musical nations, influenced as well by strong national tendencies, each assumed, in his own way, a novel and significant artistic attitude toward the lyric theater. Wagner, the German, full of the Teutonic spirit, revolutionized musico-dramatic art by approximating it to the symphony; Verdi, the Italian, no less national in spirit and without losing either his individuality or nationality, developed a similar style in which the orchestra increased its potency of expression without sacrificing the beauty of the human voice.
Verdi was not a man of culture as was Wagner. Born a peasant, he remained rooted to the soil, and his art reflects a primitive quality. He created music astonishingly frank and fierce for his time, turning the seductive melodies of Donizetti and Bellini into passionate utterances of new intensity through strong contrasts of violent and tender feeling. In his character he achieved emotional emancipation through the sweep and breadth of his musical discourse. His genius often carried him from the depths of triviality and vulgarity to majestic dignity and elegance, but it always reflected large resources of imagi?nation and amazing vitality. So enduring and resourceful was he that his greatest and most elaborate works were produced after he was fifty-seven. When verging on sixty, he composed A'ida, an opera abounding in the strength, vigor, and freedom of youth. He was sixty-one when he wrote the Requiem, and certainly in it is no hint of diminution of creative power. His last opera, Falstaff, con?sidered by many his masterpiece, was written when he was eighty! Such un?limited resources of imagination and potent creative power as Verdi consistently revealed in his long career as a composer have seldom been equaled in the world of art. The continuous growth of his style over sixty years is evidence of an incomparable capacity for artistic development and a triumphant creative energy. Throughout his life and his works ran a virility and a verve, a nobility and valor that challenge the greatest admiration.
Realizing that he might never again possess the physical and spiritual strength to produce another major work, he composed, in the very last years of his life,
some fragments known to the world as the Quattro Pezzi Sacri, consisting of four independent pieces: an Ave Maria for a cappella chorus; a Laudi alia Ver-gine Maria to Canto XXXIII of Dante's Paridiso, for women's voices; and a Stabat Mater and the Te Deum for double chorus and orchestra. In these, at the age of eighty-five, he again disclosed his exceptional powers and the most complete kind of mastery over his medium. "They represent," wrote Grieg, "Roman Catholic culture at its highest, and are full of the deepest and most beautiful inspirations by which the master was ever carried away." These wondrous works, unfortunately so neglected, were the last complete products of a creatire life that spanned more than half a century, and in them there is to be found those same sensuously appealing and eloquent qualities that coursed through the pages of his earlier works.
The Pezzi Sacri are the products not only of Verdi's last, but also of his saddest and loneliest years. Less than a year before their performance (1898) he lost his second wife, Guiseppina Streffoni, who had always been a close com?panion, and in her death he experienced his most profound sorrow in a life marked by misfortune. Not even the death of his first wife and their two chil?dren only four years after his marriage plunged him into such depths of grief as did the loss of Giuseppina, for now he had to bear the burden of sorrow accompanied by the bitterness and loneliness of old age.
As the last great figure of his era, he lived on into the next century long enough to realize that he had already been thrust into the past by the young composers of the new generation. Unacquainted with them and unfamiliar with their new idioms, he remained a lonely and solitary figure in their midst, writing an epilogue in these few fragments to an era that was becoming increasingly remote. In them, however, there were still to be heard strong echoes from a glorious past. Of his great contemporaries, only Boi'to remained to write of him:
He is gone, and has carried with him a large share of light and warmth, for the world was sunned by that Olympean old age. He died magnificently like a dumb but pertinacious fighter. With bent head and rugged eyebrows, he seemed to take the measure of his un?known formidable adversary and to reckon force needed to withstand it. Thus he resisted heroically to the last. In my life time, I have lost those I idolized and sorrow has outlived resignation. But I never felt before such hatred against death, and such contempt for its mysterious, blind, stupid, triumphant, infamous power.t
In form, content, and expressive treatment of the chorus and orchestra the Te Deum is the most important of the Pezzi Sacri. It reflects the characteristic qualities of the magnificent Requiem Mass in its melodic luxuriance, vivid and elaborate orchestral background, and dramatic, individual treatment of the text. All of this, however, is in a smaller, reduced framework, evidencing, perhaps a greater directness and economy of means and a chastened and moderated style. In it Verdi again, as in the Requiem, consciously sought to give to the text the
The Pezzi Sacri were not written after the death of Giuseppina, and were not created as a posthumous homage to her religious ideals as is sometimes stated.
t Ferruccio Bonavia, Verdi (London: Oxford University Press, 1930), p. 146.
most accurate musical interpretation possible. In a letter written to Telbaldini, director of the choir in Lorento, in February of 1896, he indicated that none of the interpretations of the Te Deum texts he had heard satisfied him:
I know . . . some of the old settings of the Te Deum and I have heard quite a lot of modern ones. But to me no performance of this hymn has ever been convincing, quite aside from the quality of the music. Such performances generally take place as part of the pompous ceremonies in celebration of some victory or coronation, etc. At the beginning Heaven and earth exalt; Sanctus, sanctus, Deus Sabaoth. But about half way through, the work takes on a different color so to speak. . . . The Savior is born of the virgin and pro?claims the regnum coelorum to mankind . . . mankind believes in the Judex venturus, and calls upon him, Salve jac; ending with the prayer Dignare Domine, in die isto ... in pathos, darkness, mourning and even in terror.
The initial words of the Te Deum are announced by the basses in the first of the two choirs employed, and they are echoed by the tenors of the second choir. This introduction, which serves as the structural idea for the whole work, and which is treated with such great ingenuity and effect later, is of liturgical character and origin. In this opening section Verdi seems to have found the traditional setting for the words compatible with the text. Following it, the male voices of both choirs have antiphonal, unaccompanied passages chiefly in repeated chords which are seldom changed. His purpose here is undoubtedly to throw into relief the loud ensemble proclaiming the Sanctus, where, after this subdued and bare effect, all the voices and instruments, joined together, create an overpowering impression.
The brief theme that follows, announced by the first choir on the words Pleni sunt coeli, like the Introduction theme, is of structural importance, for it returns repeatedly as the work progresses. In the course of its presentation, the second choir continues the exclamation Sanctus, with both choirs joining finally in a climax of tremendous power. With hushed voices, they repeat the Sanctus, the sopranos entering softly on the final chord, while the violins help to sustain the ethereal effect by playing harmonics. There follows a short orchestral interlude presenting an important derivation from the first theme. It is extended by repetition and soon passes to the voices, which treat it polyphonically {Te glori?ous apostolorum). There is a sonorous announcement of the modified liturgical theme in the brass, forcefully continued by the choirs in unison {Tu Rex gloriac). So ends the section of praise to the glory of God.
At the words Tu ad liberandum suscepturus hominem, there is, however, a distinct change of feeling. Christ born of the Virgin opens to mankind the Kingdom of Heaven (regna coelorum); man now believes in the Judge to come {Judex venturus) and appeals to Him for salvation {salvum jac). It was to this part of the text that Verdi referred in his letter to Tebaldini expressing his dis?satisfaction with previous settings. After treating the words in eight parts he reverts to the theme of the interlude and treats it with wondrous new effects in
Since the great polyphonic period, the Te Deum has been the vehicle of elaborate choral settings, usually on occasions of thanksgiving after victory. The outstanding ones are by Handel for the Peace of Utrecht, 1712; and for the victory of Dettingen, 1743; Berlioz' Te Deum of a Thousand, 1849-54; Bruckner, 1884; Dvorak, 1896; and Sullivan for Queen Victoria's Diamond Jubilee, 1897.
the orchestra, while the voices sing independent phrases. The setting of the words Salvum jac populum is in massive choral harmonies unaccompanied--one of the most impressive parts of the work. The orchestra then presents the theme originally stated by the first choir to the words Pleni sunt coeli successively with that of the Interlude, and these themes, which have given to the work its com?pact structure, are worked out by both choirs simultaneously. An equally effec?tive, though quite different, device is used in the Dignare Dotnine, in die isto. Here the unison voices accompanied by the orchestra create a sombre effect with the basses pulsating slowly below them "in pathos, darkness, mourning, and even in terror." In the Miserere nostri Domine a lovely antiphonal effect is achieved with the simplest of means. To personalize the prayer at the end Verdi turns briefly, and for the only time in the whole work, to the solo voice. To the words In te Domine speravi the soprano voice, in three short phrases, ends the work. The noblest and most inspiring of all sacred hymns, the great canticle Te Deum laudamus, was composed about the beginning of the fifth century, a.d., by Bishop Nicetas of Dacia (c. 335-414). Its passages were drawn from the Old and New Testaments, the Psalms, Prophets, Gospels, and Epistles--a re?markable fusion of scattered biblical elements. It is little wonder that the early Christians found in its all-comprehensive verses, appealing to man's will to strive and endure, an expression of their unconquerable faith and resolution, or that composers have, throughout the history of music, met the challenge of its glorious text:
Te Deum laudamus te Deum con-
fitemur. Te aeternum Patretn, omnis terra
veneratur. Tibi omnes angeli, tibi coeli, el
universae potestales; Tibi cherubim el seraphim, in-
cessabili voce prodamant: Sanctus, sanctus, sanctus
Dominus Deus Sabaolh. Pleni sunt coeli, el terra
majestatis gloriae tuae. Sanctus, sanctus, Dominus Deus
Te gloriosus, apostolorum chorus, Te prophetarum, laudabilis numerus, Te martyrum, candidalus laudat
exercitus. Te per orbem terrarum, sancla
confitetur Ecclesia, Patrem immensae majestatis, Venerandum tuum verum, et unicum
Filium, Sanctum quoque, Paraclilum Spirilum.
We praise Thee, O God: we acknowledge
Thee to be the Lord. Thee, the eternal Father, all the
earth doth worship. To Thee all the Angels, to Thee the
Heavens, and all the powers therein : To Thee the Cherubim and Seraphim with
unceasing voice cry aloud: Holy, Holy, Holy Lord God of
Sabaoth. The heavens and this earth are full of
the majesty of thy Glory. Holy, Holy Lord God of Sabaoth.
Thee, the glorious choir of the Apostles, Thee, the admirable company of the
Prophets, Thee, the white-robed army of
Martyrs do praise. Thee, the Holy Church throughout
the world doth confess, The Father of infinite majesty, Thine adorable, true and only Son, Also the Holy Ghost, the Comforter.
Research of Professor Peter Wagner, Dom Paul Cagin, O.S.B., and Clemens Blume, places the time of its composition at a much earlier date.
Tu Rex gloriae, Christe. Tu Patris, sempiternus es
Filius. Tu ad liberandum suscepturus
Non horruisti Virginis uterum Tu devicto mortis aculeo: Aperuisti credentibus regna
coelorum. Tu ad dexteram Dei sedes, in
gloria Patris.
Judex crederis, esse venturus. Te ergo quaesumus, tuts famuiis
Quos pretioso sanguine redemisti. Aeterna jac cum sanctis tuts, in
gloria numerari.
Salvum fac populum tuum Dotnine, Et benedic haereditati tuae. Et rege eos, et extolle illos
usque in aeternum. Per singulos dies, benedicimus te. Et laudamus nomen tuum in saeculum,
et in saeculum saeculi. Dignare Domine die isto, sine
peccato nos custodire. Miserere nostri Domine;
miserere nostri.
Fiat misericordia tua Domine
super nos, quemadmodum
speravimus in te. In te Domine speravi: Non conjundar in aeternum.
Thou, O Christ, art the King of Glory Thou art the everlasting Son of the Father, Thou didst not abhor the Virgin's
womb when Thou tookest Upon Thee human nature to deliver man. When Thou hadst overcome the sting of
death, Thou didst Open to believers the kingdom of
Heaven. Thou sittest at the right hand of God,
in the glory of the Father. Thou, we believe, art the Judge to come. We beseech Thee, therefore, help Thy
servants whom Thou Hast redeemed with Thy precious Blood. Make them to be numbered with Thy
Saints, in glory everlasting.
Save Thy people, O Lord, and bless
Thine inheritance. And rule them and exalt them
Day by day, we bless Thee. And we praise Thy name forever;
yea forever and ever. Vouchsafe, O Lord, this day, to
keep us without sin. Have mercy on us, 0 Lord; have
mercy on us.
Let Thy mercy, O Lord, be upon
us; even as we have hoped in
Thee. In Thee, O Lord, have I hoped: let
me not be confounded forever.
Variations for Piano and Orchestra.......Riegger
Wallingford Riegger was bom in Albany, Georgia, April 29, 188S; died in New York City, April 2, 1961.
Technically solid and solidly musical. --Virgil Thomson
The following paragraph was written by Richard Goldman and appeared in Musical Quarterly for January, 1950:
Wallingford Riegger's music has never been widely popular or often performed, nor has it had the critical recognition it plainly deserves. His position as a leading figure among active American composers has, it appears, been acknowledged by inattention or, in some quarters, granted with an uncomfortable reluctance. To compose music is apparently not enough: in the helter-skelter of organizations, pronouncements, publicity, and glamorizing that characterizes musical life in a modern world, it is often necessary to have been favored by an aggressive nature or an aggressive sponsorship to arrive decisively; and it seems particularly necessary to have written a few exaggerated works for performance by the loudest orchestras or on the most fashionable stages. Riegger is a quiet man in a noisy
world; he has enunciated no principles, demanded no "rights," made no claims, and written nothing that substitutes size for content. His energy has flowed into the creation of music which is unlike that of anyone else, which has an extraordinary' quality attained by inven?tion and discipline, and which owes nothing to fashion or the desire to reach an audience by means of shock or false simplicity. Riegger's music, striking in its vigorous individuality, has clarity without naivete, force without bombast, resourcefulness without pedantry, inde?pendence without rootlessness, and vitality without boyishness. This shy man, ill at ease in the society that career necessitates, lacks only jargon and grandiloquence.
Today, a decade later, and two years after his death, Wallingford Riegger is still a name almost totally unknown to concert hall audiences. Although his few major works have won their place in the repertoire of our leading orchestras, and his musical colleagues, composers and critics alike, have acknowledged him to be one of the "liveliest minds," "keenest musical intelligences," and "powerful creative personalities this country has produced," he is still one of our least performed, discussed, or publicized composers. His music has neither won a large audience, nor continued to interest the avant garde. Between the two world wars, however, he exerted a tremendous influence upon young Ameri?can musicians by virtue of his constant experimentation with new tonalities and textures. He was, for instance, one of the first of our composers to use the twelve-tone technique of Arnold Schonberg. His atonal Rhapsody (1926) and radical Study in Sonority (1927)--ten violins or any multiple of ten-with its sonorities of exquisite freshness, were written when his acquaintance with Schonberg's theories was limited. His conscious, yet highly individual, use of the tone-row in Dichotomy for Thirteen Instruments (1931-32), and his unique adaptation of the twelve-tone method as a logical integration of his previous explorations, apparent in his powerful Third Symphony (1946-47), which won the New York Critics award in 1948, prove his preoccupation with these devices long before they had become musical status symbols. He was also one of the first to experiment in electronic music in its earliest manifesta?tions.
As an artist Riegger was always more interested in the art of music and his contribution to its progress than he was in his own personal career. His intense musical integrity guided him to compose by the dictates of his artistic con?science rather than merely to please an audience. He never adapted the pose of the "skilled craftsman" who appeals only to a select coterie of "advanced thinkers," nor has he ever complied to the demands of a culture-ridden public for the agreeable and acceptable. The true stature of such an artist becomes ap?parent only with time.
Although the Variations for Piano and Orchestra is not as impressive a work as the Third Symphony, it reveals basic characteristics of Riegger's style-economy of material, compactness of form, and clarity and logic of thematic treatment. The score is full of subtle surprises, and the dialogue between the piano and orchestra is constantly refreshed by free and buoyant rhythms.
Up to the time of the appearance of the article, the only published material on RieitRer was an auto?biographical sketch in the Magazine 0 Art (1939); an article by Henry Cowell in Musical America, De?cember 1, 1948; and scattered reviews.
Riegger created propulsive, raggedly rhythmic compositions full of jangling dissonances and roughhewn contrasts. Yet everything is, as here, neat, con?trolled, and effective.
For the Louisville Orchestra Commissions recording of the Variations for Piano and Orchestra (LOU 5453) the composer wrote the following program notes:
As originally conceived, this work was to be purely orchestral, somewhat in the nature of a symphonic poem, and as such occupied several weeks of creative effort. However a fugue theme that I had evolved from the original twelve-tone series seemed fairly to clamor for the keyboard, whereupon I toyed with the idea of turning the work into a piano con?certo. What finally emerged was the present theme and variations, twelve in number, with the above-mentioned fugue serving as coda.
The work begins with orchestra alone, the piano not entering until in the course of the first variation. The other variations follow with a slight break between each and a brief interlude between the eleventh and twelfth, the latter then leading directly into the coda, i.e., the fugue. The work closes with a complete restatement of the original theme, this time with the piano participating.
"Still Are New Worlds"...........Finney
Ross Lee Finney was born in Wells, Minnesota, December 23, 1906.
The composer of today without some trace of Romanticism in his heart must be lacking in something fundamentally human.
--Arnold Schonberg
Since 1948, Mr. Finney has been chairman of the composition department at The University of Michigan to which he has brought distinction both as a composer and teacher. He studied in this country with S. B. Hill, Donald Fer?guson, and Roger Sessions, and in Europe with Nadia Boulanger and Alban Berg. He has received two Guggenheim Fellowships (1937, 1947) and a Pulitzer Prize (1937). In 1955 he was granted the Boston Symphony award.
Among his most important compositions are: orchestral works--Symphonies No. 1 (1942) and No. 2, commissioned by the Koussevitsky Foundation in 1959, Concerto for Violin and Orchestra (1933-47), Concerto for Piano and Orchestra (1948); piano works--four piano sonatas and incidental pieces, chamber music with piano--three sonatas for violin and piano, two sonatas for cello and piano, a piano quartet; a piano quintet; chamber music without piano --eight string quartets, a Fantasy in two movements for violin alone, com?missioned by Yehudi Menuhin and first performed at the International Ex?position in Brussels (1958), a Fantasy for cello alone; a string quintet, com?missioned by the Coolidge Foundation; and several song cycles--five songs, poems by Archibald MacLeish; Poor Richard, seven songs to words by Ben?jamin Franklin; Three Love Songs to poems by John Donne; Chamber Music, thirty-six songs to poems by James Joyce.
Mr. Finney composes with artistic conviction and superb craftsmanship.
He has successfully amalgamated a variety of contemporary musical influences into an extremely effective and highly individual style. In his last string quartets, in the second symphony (performed at the 1960 May Festival), and in the work on tonight's program, he has achieved a remarkable synthesis of conscious technical device and spontaneous expression, combining the basic serial principle of Schonberg's twelve-tone system with rhythmic elasticity and structural in?ventiveness. With each new work he makes increasingly clear the difference between adaptation of and adherence to the Schonberg method. Like his teacher Alban Berg before him, he possesses a strong romantic impulse that compels subjective and imaginative forces not only to shape the form of his work and make it subservient to his expressive purpose, but to humanize a rigidly abstract system and convert it into a powerful medium of communica?tion. In none of his works is this more evident than in "Still Are New Worlds," which receives its world premiere on tonight's program. Mr. Finney has arbi?trarily selected a miscellaneous series of quotations from poets, scientists, and philosophers of the past and present.f concerned with man's attempt to understand the world around him. They probe, question, or comment upon the vastness, the grandeur, and the meaning of the universe. No texts could be more opposed in form or spirit nor more reflective of the periods they represent than those of "Still Are New Worlds" and Haydn's Creation to be heard on Sunday afternoon's program. Haydn presents an argument, a dramatic narrative, Finney merely a panorama of feeling induced by quotations taken out of context that range from the seventeenth century to our day. The text of The Creation, based upon Biblical history and reinforced by Milton and Protestant theology, undisturbed by the rationalism and scientific discoveries known to the eighteenth century, confidently justifies the ways of God to men. "Thy boun?teous care, O Lord and God, fills heaven and earth with good"; that of "Still Are New Worlds," in disillusionment and fear, asks how modern man can justify the ways of God in an age in which science may well lead to his de?struction. "Who durst defy th' omnipotent--the dismal--waste on all sides round" It is the work of an artist who is faced with the great spiritual dilemma of his time--can faith in God and fear of science be reconciled
In Part I, man is enchanted by the mystery and beauty of the universe. He observes the sun "of all orbs most excellent ... the heart of the world" (Kep?ler) ; the earth "warmed by the sun . . . and moistened by the rain" that pro?duces living things (Harvey); and "the wondrous architecture of the world" (Marlowe). "Man hath weaved a net and made the heavens his own" (Donne); "he is not blamed for searching to find the ways of God" (Milton), or for questioning "if we are but part of a vaster universe" (Fontenelle). He comes finally to the realization that "Still are new worlds further than the furthest
It was commissioned by the University Musical Society to honor the fiftieth anniversary of the con?struction of Hill Auditorium.
t Quotations, with two exceptions, are taken from Marjorie Hope Nicolson's book, The Breaking of the Circle (Northwestern University Press, 1950; revised edition, Columbia University Press, 1960).
thought of men can traverse" (More). Part I ends with the disturbing realiza?tion of the infinite extension of space.
In Part II man seeks the aid of science to find the meaning of this new, seemingly imponderable world. "Without mathematical language--triangles, circles and other geometrical figures--one wanders in vain through a dark labyrinth" (Galileo). "Let numbers, figures, motion's laws" reveal "each secret cause" (Akenside); "take heed, and do not aspire to immortal life but exhaust the limits of the possible" (Pindar). But science that was to teach us every?thing ends in disillusionment and hypothesis. "All the knowledge on earth will give . . . nothing to assure possession of the world" (Camus). Modern man, in danger of a future "flaming . . . with hideous ruin, and combustion--leaving regions of sorrow . . . where peace . . . can never dwell" asks in his perplexity "how to justify the ways of God to men" (Milton).
"I had originally intended to end the work with a quotation from a modern scientist," explains Mr. Finney, "but since I was developing a pattern of feeling rather than an argument, I was unable to find what I wanted. I came to feel that Milton in the beginning of Paradise Lost had best expressed the dilemma of modern man. It was necessary, however, to wrench the quotation completely out of context. As it is used here, 'He' suggests man, not God; the 'almighty power'--nuclear explosion, not Satan 'flaming with hideous ruin'; and 'Thou . . . brooding on the vast abyss' becomes man trying to defend God's way."
Mr. Finney further points out that the above progression of moods is also reflected in the manner in which the score was conceived. Part I, concerned largely with the finite world, is primarily for chorus and orchestra. Only toward the very end, when, in the excerpt from Fontenelle, the question is asked, "Is that vast space which comprehends our sun and planets but a part of the universe", the speaking voice enters with the chorus, opening as it does the world of the infinite. In Part II it becomes more important and prominent as the meaning of the quotations must be made increasingly clear. With the ex?cerpt from the twentieth-century poet Albert Camus, the tape recorder is added to the chorus and speaking voice for the first time, providing the new and strange effect, at first reflective and nostalgic, but bursting forth with terrifying effect at the beginning of the Milton quotation, "He . . . with ambitious aim" and again at the words "with hideous ruin and combustion, down to bottomless perdition."
Although the form of the work comes from the nature of the text, as does in?deed The Creation, the music here is unified by the use of a tone row, chosen, according to Mr. Finney, "because of its chordal character and its usefulness in vocal writing. Several permutations of the row result in scale passages that are important in the orchestral writing." No technical consideration of the serial technique, or further discussion of the use of electronic music is necessary to explain the impact of this work. Mr. Finney's new score reveals again a strict economy of means that produces an inner energy and directness that communi?cates itself without subterfuge; it is honest, uncluttered, and vigorous music that leaves the impression of artistic purposefulness and integrity.
Chorus {Allegro maestoso)
The sun, of all the orbs most excellent, whose whole essence is purest light, than which there is no greater star; singly and alone the producer, conserver, and warmer of all things; most fair, limpid and pure, king of the planets for his motion, heart of the world, its eye for his beauty, and alone we judge worthy of the Most High God.
Kepler: Fragment from an early disputation Chorus: {Adagio sereno)
The moist earth, warmed by the sun, evaporates; the vapours drawn upwards are con?densed, and descending in the form of rain, moisten the earth again . . . Generations of living things (are) produced; and tempests and meteors engendered by the circular motion, and by the approach and recession of the sun.
Harvey: "Of the Motion of the Heart and Blood of Animals" Chorus (.Adagio sostenuto) Our Soules . . . can comprehend The wondrous Architecture of the world; And measure every wondering planet's course, Still climbing after knowledge infinite, And alwaies moving, as the restless Spheares.
Marlowe: Tamburlaine Chorus (Allegro marcato) Man hath weav'd out a net, and this net throwne Upon the heavens, and now they are his owne. Loth to goe up the hill, or labour thus To goe to heaven, we make heaven come to us. We spur, we raine the starres, and in their race They're diversely content t'obey our pace.
Donne: First Anniversary, II, 279-84 Chorus (Allegro con spirito) To ask or search I blame thee not; for Heaven Is as the Book of God before thee set, Wherein to read his wondrous works, and learn His seasons, hours, or days, or months, or years.
Milton: Paradise Lost, VIII, 66-69 Chorus and Speaking Voice (Adagio misterioso)
Is every Star the Center of a Vortex, as big as ours Is that vast space which comprehends our Sun and Planets, but a part of the Universe Are there as many spaces, as there are fix'd Stars
Fontenelle: Conversations upon a Plurality of Worlds Chorus (Adagio sereno) Farre aboven
Further than furthest thought of men can traverse,
Still are new worlds, aboven and still aboven, In th' endlesse hollow Heaven, and each World hath his Sun.
Henry More: Democritus Platonissaus or an Essay upon The Infinite of Worlds out of Platonic Principles
Speaking Voice
Philosophy is written in that great book which ever lies before our eyes--I mean the universe--but we cannot understand it if we do not first learn the language and grasp the symbols in which it is written. This book is written in the mathematical language, and the symbols are triangles, circles, and other geometrical figures, without whose help it is
impossible to comprehend a single word of it; without which one wanders in vain through a dark labyrinth.
Galileo: Saggialore, 1610 Chorus (ModcrcUo pomposo) Give me to learn each secret cause; Let number's, figure's, motion's laws
Revealed before me stand; These to great nature's scenes apply, And round the Globe, and through the sky,
Disclose her working hand.
Mark Akenside: Hymn to Science Speaking Voice
O my soul, do not aspire to immortal life, but exhaust the limits of the possible.
Pindar: Pythian, iii
Chorus, Speaking Voice, and Tape Recorder (Andante ma non tanto) . . . here are trees and I know their gnarled surface, [here is] water and I feel its taste. These scents of grass and stars at night, . . . evenings when the heart relaxes--how shall I negate this world whose power and strength I feel
Yet all the knowledge on earth will give me nothing to assure me that this world is mine . . . You teach me that this wondrous and multicolored universe can be reduced to the atom and that the atom itself can be reduced to the electron . . . You tell me of an invisible planetary system in which electrons gravitate around a nucleus. You explain this world to me with an image. I realize then that you have been reduced to poetry. You have . . . changed theories. Science that was to teach me everything ends ... in hypothesis, lucidity founders in metaphor, uncertainty is resolved in a work of art.
The soft lines of these hills and the hand of evening on this troubled heart teach me much more. I have returned to my beginning. I realize that if through science I can seize Phenomena and enumerate them, I cannot, for all that, apprehend the world.
Camus: The Myth of Sisyphus: An Absurd Reasoning; Sec. II, Absurd Walls, trans?lated by Justin O'Brien, Knopf, 19SS Chorus, Speaking Voice, and Tape Recorder (Furioso) He . . . with ambitious aim . . .
. . . th' Almighty Power
Hurled headlong flaming from the ethereal sky, With hideous ruin and combustion, down To bottomless perdition . . . Who durst defy th' Omnipotent . . . The dismal . . . waste . . .
on all sides round, As one great furnace flamed . . . No light, but ...
Regions of sorrow . . . where peace . . . can never dwell.
Milton: Paradise Lost, Book I Thou . . .
. . . with mighty wings outspread, Dove-like sat'st brooding on the vast Abyss,
. . . what in me is dark Illumine, what is low raise and support; That . . .
I may assert Eternal Providence, And justify the ways of God to men.
Milton: Paradise Lost, Book I
Fantasia for Piano and Orchestra in C major, Op. 15 ("Wanderer")........Schubert-Liszt
Franz Liszt was born in Raiding, Hungary, October 22, 1811; died in Bayreuth, July 31, 1886.
As a composer, pianist, teacher, and critic Franz Liszt completely dominated his age. As a composer he brought to fruition the romantic tendencies of the period with his vividly expressive and highly descriptive music. He created new art forms (the symphonic poem) and increased the expressive qualities of the orchestra, the piano, and every medium in which he chose to work. He was perhaps the most sensational pianist who ever lived, and as such he contributed incalculably to general musical interest. In his capacity as a teacher he estab?lished a school of piano technique that has produced, and is still producing, some of the most notable pianists of our day. As a critic and as a propagandist, he drew the attention of the world to young unknown composers, among them Brahms and Wagner, and clarified the various movements that were becoming apparent in the musical evolution of the early nineteenth century.
Liszt displays a broad sweep and a grand style and moves with ease in vast musical forms. His tendency to casual improvisation destroys at times the homogeneity of his work, but when the foundations of this improvisation are well constructed he often reaches the apogee of brilliance and power.
Unfortunately, however, Liszt's creative talent and inventiveness tended to lag behind his imagination and artistic desire. As a result, much of his music is more grandiose than majestic, more voluptuous than passionate, and more pretentious than inspired. Despite his fustian, however, he was one of the last great Europeans with the gift of universality, fiery eloquence, and the grand epic style, and where he lacked spontaneity of invention he impressed with his own bold and adventurous intelligence.
In 1828 Franz Schubert composed the Phantasia, Op. 15, for piano. In the second movement he employed the melody of one of his immortal songs, "Der Wanderer" (1816), which, in a disguised form, dominated the rest of the work. Some thirty years later Franz Liszt, finding in this work a highly individual treatment of form, and instinctively sensing the inherent potentialities for orchestral treatment, transcribed it for piano and orchestra. According to Donald Francis Tovey:
The "Wanderer" Fantasia had a special interest for Liszt, because, without any revolu?tionary gestures, it solved the problem of the "Symphonic Poem," that new art form by which Liszt was trying to achieve for instrumental music what Wagner, quite independently, was achieving in opera; that is to say, a music that can fill an hour without breaking up into self-contained smaller designs. For this purpose certain new ways of developing and connecting themes were needed, and Schubert provided them in full maturity in this unique composition. Not only is the Wagner-Liszt leitmotiv system present, but there is also the far more important and difficult achievement of transforming whole sections into new rhythmic and characteristic forms. Schubert . . . provides the whole technical and aesthetic method of such transformations in what may be called the scherzo of the "Wanderer" Fantasia.
Another point which interested Liszt in this work is the reason which induced him to arrange it for orchestra with pianoforte. It is thoroughly orchestral in conception, and often shows up the incapacity of the pianoforte to give the true orchestral "punch" to the climaxes. It is defensible, as Schubert himself abundantly shows, to write orchestrally for the pianoforte and the string quartet, in the sense that the writing suggests orchestral qualities; but that is quite another story. Schubert was not a great pianist, and he might have written more scrupulously for the pianoforte if he had been unable to play it at all. As it was, he played like a bold scorereader, and broke off in the middle of the finale of the "Wanderer" Fantasia, saying, "The devil may play it!"
So this is where Liszt comes in, not as a Vandal showman, but as a pious exponent of Schubert's meaning. Sometimes the virtuoso gets the better of the exponent, and Liszt cannot resist a mild attack of glass-chandelier pianistics. These lapses create an impression out of all proportion to their actual wickedness; but nothing is easier than to correct them. We have only to restore Schubert's original figures, not too literally, but adapted to their orchestral surroundings. Purists have much to learn if they condemn this work of Liszt, thus corrected, on general grounds of piety. From such critics one might fear a double charge of impiety, to Liszt as well as to Schubert!
Donald F. Tovey, Essays in Musical Analysis (London: Oxford University Press, 193S), IV, 70-71.
Saturday Afternoon, May 11
Variations on a Theme by Haydn
(Chorale St. Antonii), Op. 56a.......Brahms
Johannes Brahms was bom in Hamburg, May 7, 1833; died in Vienna, April 3, 1897.
For Brahms it was "no laughing matter to write a symphony after Beethoven." To his friend Levi, he wrote, just after the completion of the first movement of the First Symphony, "I shall never compose a symphony! You have no conception of how the likes of us feel when we hear the tramp of a giant like him [Beethoven] behind us."
Brahms was forty-four years of age before he undertook the task. His severe self-criticism and conscientiousness led him into countless experiments and trials. Before he published his first string quartets, for instance, he had com?posed over twenty works in that form; and before he ventured into the sym?phonic field, he made a most unostentatious debut with two Serenades in orchestral style at the age of twenty-six. After an interim of nearly fourteen years he sent up another signal with the Haydn Variations, written during the summer of 1873. This amply designed and captivating prelude forms an inter?mediate stage in his progress from the serenades to the first of the four great symphonies. To an infinitely greater degree than the two Serenades, it claims to be the first truly symphonic work of Brahms, and it carried his name as an instrumental composer into every country. Although the variations created in their day a veritable sensation, the most we can say of this rather tentative work with its pastel shades and delicate contrasts, is that its charm is still a constant source of delight. We cannot escape, however, an impression of experi?menting with the form chosen, and although Brahm's manner of elaborating a theme here resembles slightly his treatment in the Handel and Paganini variations, without, of course, their harmonic richness and melodic invention, there is nothing of the novelty or creative power one finds in the gigantic final Passacaglia of the Fourth Symphony, and we are led to the acknowledgement that the delight we take in this work is derived as much from the original theme and its recurrences, as from anything Brahms did with it. In truth, Brahms was merely trying out and subjecting to his needs the medium of the full symphony orchestra.
The original theme, a delightful half hymn and half folk tune, was described in the manuscript, which was brought to his attention in 1870 by Dr. Karl Ferdinand Pohl, Haydn's biographer and the Archivist of the Gesellschajt der Musikjreude as "The Chorale St. Antonii." At that time there was no question as to the authenticity of the tune. It was derived from the second movement of a
then unpublished Feldpartiten (Pieces To Be Played Outdoors) in B-flat major, an octet for wind instruments by Haydn.
There is, however, no reason to be certain that the subject of the variations really was the original work of Haydn. Scholars have never been able to decide whether it was an old tune or one of Haydn's inventions. At any rate, Brahms entered the theme, along with other phrases of older composers, in a notebook, as was his custom. In 1873 he completed the variations in two forms, one for two pianos which came to publication first (November, 1873) and the other for full orchestra, which was not brought out until January, 1874. It had been performed, however, by the Philharmonic Orchestra, under Hans Richter, on November 2, 1873.
Walter Niemann's description of the variations follows:
The variations are eight in number and, in accordance with Haydn's manner and spirit, end, not in a fugue, but a finale. The piquant five-bar measure of the first period of the theme is preserved throughout all the variations, in homogeneous and close connection with it. The same is true of the key, B-flat major. It is only in. the second, fourth, and eighth variations that it changes to the more sombre key of B-flat minor. Like the Handel "Variations" for piano, the Haydn "Variations" are also "character" variations, sharply contrasted and varied in movement, rhythm, style, colour, and atmosphere.
The first variation, pensive and softly animated (with triplets against quavers), is directly connected with the close of the theme by its soft bell-like echoes. The second, with its Brahmsian dotted progressions in sixths on the clarinets and bassoons, above the pizzicato basses and the ringing "challenge (Anrvf)" of the tutti, is more animated, but still subdued, as is indicated by the key of B-flat minor. The third, pensive and full of warm inspiration in its perfectly tranquil flowing movement, introduces a melodious duet between the two oboes in its first section, accompanied an octave lower by the two bassoons, and in the second part, where it is taken up by the first violin and viola, weaves round it an enchantingly delicate and transparent lace-work in the woodwind. The fourth, with its solo on the oboes and horns in unison, steals by in semiquavers, as sad and gray as a melancholy mist, again in B-flat minor. The fifth goes tittering, laughing, and romping merrily off, in light passages in thirds in a 68 rhythm on the woodwind (with piccolo) against the 34 rhythm of the strings, which starts at the seventh bar. The sixth, with its staccato rhythm, is given a strong, confident colour by the fanfares on the horns and trum?pets. The seventh is a Siciliano, breathing a fervent and tender emotion, with the melody given to the flute and viola, in 68 time, Bach-like in character, yet every note of it pure Brahms. Here at last he speaks to our hearts as well. The eighth, in B-flat minor, hurries past, shadowy and phantom-like, with muted strings and soft woodwind, in a thoroughly ghostly and uncanny fashion--a preliminary study on a small scale for the finale in F minor of the F major Symphony. The finale opens, very calm, austere and sustained, as a further series of variations on a basso ostinato of five bars. It is developed with extraordinary ingenuity, works up through constant repetitions of the chorale theme, each time in a clearer form and with cumulative intensity, to a brilliant close, with as it were, a dazzling apotheosis of the wind instruments, thrown into relief against rushing scale-passages, as in the con?cluding section of the Akademischc Festouverture. We may, if we like, see in this basso ostinato the first germ of the mighty final chaconne on a basso ostinato of the Fourth Symphony.t
These amiable variations, with their light but superb orchestration, their lively nervous energy, and at times their exquisitely tender moments, would
Haydn's "Partita" was not published until 1932.
t Walter Niemann, Brahms, trans, by C. A. Phillips (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1920), pp. 326-27.
perhaps seem less distant and more significant if it were not for the absolutely overpowering and tragic grandeur of the First Symphony which immediately followed them, or for the Aeschylean quality of the variation form as he used it in the last movement of the Fourth Symphony.
Duet-Concertante for Clarinet and Bassoon,
with Harp and Strings..........Strauss
Richard Strauss was born in Munich, June 11, 1864; died in Garmisch-Partenkirchen, Germany, September 8, 1949.
Trained during his formative years in the classical musical tradition of Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven, Strauss exerted his individuality and inde?pendence of thought and expression with such daring and insistence that at his mature period he was considered the most modern and most radical of com?posers. Critics turned from their tirades against Wagner to vent their invectives upon him; they vilified him as they had Wagner, with a persistence that seems incredible to us today.
The progressive unfolding of his genius aroused much discussion, largely because it was so uneven and erratic. Hailed on his appearance as the true successor to Richard Wagner, this "Richard II" became, for some years, the most commanding figure in modern music. Forty years ago, except in Germany and Austria, he was almost entirely ignored by the leaders of progressive musical opinion. No composer has ever suffered such a sudden and decisive reversal of fortune. Just when his popularity seemed to be steadily growing and con?troversy dying down, his works began to disappear from current programs and for a period of approximately ten years became almost inaccessible to the public.
During this period, the art of music was changing at a greater rate of speed than at any time in its history. Russia had begun to assert itself in the field with such great force that it seemed she was about to usurp the position of Germany as the leading musical nation. France had caught the attention of the musical world with late impressionistic and modern devices, and England had suddenly revived interest in native art by rediscovering her heritage of Elizabethan music, and by attending to a contemporary output.
With the interest of the world suddenly caught by the novelty of new styles and held by the rapid shift from one to another, attention was drawn away from Germany just at that period when Strauss was winning acceptance. When, after ten years of indifference to his output, the world again began to hear his works, it was with different ears. Music that had been controversial now seemed perfectly acceptable; what at first appeared to be novel in har?monic device, exotic in coloration, and new in conception of form was now looked upon as commonplace. Strauss's fresh and ingenious manner of treating old material had been mistaken for startling innovation and open rebellion against musical traditions.
Russia in particular had so extended the expressive powers of music that
much that had seemed unusual and even cacophonous now appeared to be utterly prosaic. After the performance of Stravinsky's Le Sacre du printemps (1914), the one-time exceptional harmony, erratic melody, and queer instru?mentation of Strauss "left the itch of novelty behind."
In the light of today, therefore, Strauss is no longer considered an innovator of any true significance. But let it be said that, from the first, he has mani?fested an extraordinary mastery of technical procedure; that he is one of the few composers of our century who has shown himself capable of constructing work on a monumental scale and of approaching the epic conception. His work as a whole is greater than any of its constituent parts, and, in this sense, he possesses an architectonic quality of mind that is impressive. There are in his greatest works an exuberance, a fertility of invention and a technique of handling the orchestra that are admittedly unsurpassed. He has again and again shown this power to create beauty of rare freshness, although he most tragically failed in the complete realization of his highest achievement. For this, the present generation will never forgive him. His unpardonable sin was that he promised nothing for the future; he offered no challenge, as did Stravinsky and Schonberg, to the composers of our day.
A contemporary and highly individual evaluation of the art of Strauss today appeared in High Fidelity magazine for March, 1962. It was written by the pianist, Glenn Gould. He wrote in part:
. . . The great thing about the music of Richard Strauss is that it presents and substan?tiates an argument which transcends all the dogmatisms of art--all questions of style and taste and idiom--all the frivolous, effete preoccupation of the chronologist. It presents to us an example of the man who makes richer his own time by not being of it; who speaks for all generations by being of none. It is an ultimate argument of individuality--an argu?ment that man can create his own synthesis of time without being bound by the conformities that time imposes.
Strauss is invariably represented on current programs only by his major works; the great symphonic tone poems Don Juan, Tod und Verkldrung; Till Eulen-spiegel, Also sprach Zarathustra, Don Quixote, and Ein Heldenleben, and by his sensational and epoch-making operas Salome and Elektra, or the popular and nostalgic Der Rosenkavalier. The "Duet-Concertante," written in 1947, two years before his death, and performed by Radio Svizzera Italiana April 5, 1948, reveals him in the more intimate realm of his many exquisite art songs.
In the eighteenth century the term "concertante" indicated a piece of music for several solo instruments in rivalry with each other, with or without the orchestra. Today the term is usually employed as an adjective to describe the nature of prominent solo or "concertante" parts; or to indicate a "concertante" style, which affords opportunities for the brilliant display of performance technique. It is in the sense of a "rivaling" use of the clarinet and bassoon, against a background of strings and harp, that the "Duet-Concertante" on this afternoon's program is used.
MAY FESTIVAL PROGRAM Symphonie fantastique, Op. 14A........Berlioz
Hector Berlioz was born in Cote-Saint-Andre', France, December 11, 1803; died in Paris, March 8, 1869.
And ever as he went, he swept a lyre of unaccustomed shape.
Among the Romanticists in art, music, literature, and politics, Hector Berlioz was the most dramatic--the one who most theatrically symbolized the new movement of revolt, not only in his native France, but in all Europe. So inti?mately identified was his personality and art with the radically progressive spirit of the new literary and social movement that, like Byron, he personified it. Of each it can be said he had but one subject--himself. Possessing a per?sonality as expansive and powerful as Byron's, Berlioz' aesthetic impulses were exposed with the same force and bombast; the result was a similar spectacular and exhibitionistic art.
All complexities of the Romantic movement are mirrored in this music. Al?though Berlioz, like De Musset and Chopin, occasionally revealed the sensitive, introspective, poetic side of a suffering soul, his real creative nature was manifest in a burst of daemonic originality, in expressions of turbulent passion. He was to the music of his time what his contemporaries Gericault and Delacroix were to painting. As has been said of Delacroix' brush, Berlioz seemed to compose with a "drunken" pen. Like the writings of Victor Hugo and Alexander Dumas, his music became a "glowing tapestry of bewitching color schemes." In his scores, he displayed an immense organizing and creative power beside which the ex?travagances of many of the other artists of his period seemed reticent and in?articulate. His penchant for the abnormal, grim, and grotesque forced music with such suddenness into new channels of expression that he alone became the source of an entirely new art of orchestration. Here his genius found the greatest scope. "In the domain of fancy," wrote the Russian composer Glinka, "no one has such colossal inventions and his combinations have, besides all other merits, that of being absolutely novel. Breadth in the ensemble, abundance in details, close weaving of harmonies, powerful and hitherto unheard of instru?mentation are the characteristics of Berlioz' music."
The Symphonie fantastique, composed in 1829-30 when Berlioz was twenty-seven years of age, marked a turning point in his career. It ended a period of apprenticeship and opened an era in which he was to become one of the most influential composers of the century, unremittingly shaping the characteristic musical idioms of his day. The great classical age was coming to a violent end in France, although many of its tenets were still undefined in the minds of the public. Haydn had been dead only twenty-one years, the late works of Mozart were seldom performed, and Beethoven, who had died only three years before, was a complete enigma.
Nathan Haskell Dole, Famous Composers (2d ed.; New York: T. Y. Crowell, 1925).
By 1830, on the other hand, the nineteenth century had codified most of its ideas. The victory of the middle class was undisputed; the bourgeoise were fully aware of their power in society; the aristocracy as a class had vanished. In their novels Stendhal and Balzac had dealt with subject matter and moral conflicts utterly unknown to former generations. Chateaubriand had created the type of "esprit romanesque" in his novel Rend (1802) and had retired into political life. In the decade between 1820 and 1830, the romantic movement in France was in a state of gestation. Its revolutionary moods were creating a veritable vortex of shocking ideas and startling works of art. Gericault ex?hibited his tumultuous "Raft of the Medusa" (1819) ; Stendhal in Racine and Shakespeare (1823) thundered out against the time-honored unities in the drama; Victor Hugo, sensing the spirit of the times, published in October of 1827 (death of Beethoven) his famous romantic manifesto in the preface to Cromwell that in the words of Gautier "shone before our eyes like the tables of the Laws of Sinai"; in impassioned rhetoric he wrote "Art is revolutionary and dynamic, its object is not beauty but life." The way was opened for attacks on the stagnation that had come over French literature, due to its long com?pliance to classical formulas and rigid rules. The same year Delacroix, who had already released French painting from the bondage of the academy with his fierce energy, riotous color, and tumultuous forms, exhibited his Death of Sardanapalus and inspired by the uprising of 1830, when the Bourbons were uprooted, painted his Liberty Leading the People. In 1828, Auber's opera La Muette de Portici shot forth sparks of revolutionary passion, and opened a new era in French lyric drama. It was in 1828 also that Gerard de Neva! produced a translation of Goethe's Faust, Part 1 (used later by Berlioz in his opera, The Damnation of Faust). On February 25, 1830, five months before the July Revolution, Victor Hugo's Hernani had its first performance, and the Romantic drama obtained its first decisive victory. While Berlioz was composing the Symphonie fantastique, Rossini's French opera William Tell was thrilling audi?ences with its theme of liberation from tyranny. From this melee emerged a mass of literary figures, bold in their will to revolt. Only one French musician can be counted among them--Hector Berlioz.
In September of 1827, an English troup of actors came to Paris and revealed Shakespeare, then entirely unknown in France, to a generation of rebellious young artists. The open construction of his plays, his disregard for the unities, the violence of his action, and the truthfulness of his characterizations created a sensation. Berlioz attended the first performance of Hamlet and was, like Delacroix, Hugo, Dumas, and Sainte-Beuve, not only intoxicated by Shake?speare, but enraptured by the beauty and talent of a young Ophelia named Harriet Smithson. "I saw Miss Smithson," Berlioz wrote in his memoirs. ... "I can only compare the effect produced by her wonderful imagination and heart, with the convulsion produced on my mind by the work of the great poet
The subject was inspired by a tragic event--the wreck of the ship Medusa and the suffering of her passengers on a raft in the open sea.
whom she interpreted." While writing the Symphonie jantastique, he was in a state of emotional confusion induced by a seemingly hopeless attachment for the beautiful and talented Irish actress. Before the first performance, in com?pliance with the times that welcomed verbally expressed meanings in music, he provided his symphony with a detailed descriptive program. Unfortunately, he also subtitled the work, an Episode in the Life of an Artist. Both imply that the symphony was intended to be a sort of musical autobiography, describing the mental torture of a young man in the throes of unrequited love. This pro?gram, as it appeared in the full score published by Breitkopf and Hartel, to?gether with the English translation by Harry Brett is as follows:
First Movement: Dreams, Passions (Largo, C minor, 44;
Allegro agitato e appassionato assai, C major, 44)
At first he thinks of the uneasy and nervous condition of his mind, of somber longings, of depression and joyous elation without any recognizable cause, which he experienced before the Beloved One had appeared to him. Then he remembers the ardent love with which she suddenly inspired him; he thinks of his almost insane anxiety of mind, of his raging jealousy, of his reawakening love, of his religious consolation. Second Movement: A Ball (Allegro non troppo, A major, 38)
In a ballroom, amidst the confusion of a brilliant festival, he finds the "Beloved One" again. Third Movement: Scene in the Meadows (Adagio, F major, 67)
It is a summer evening. He is in the country, musing, when he hears two shepherd lads who play, in alternation, the ranz des vaches (the tune used by the Swiss shepherds to call their flocks). This pastoral duet, the quiet scene, the soft whisperings of the trees stirred by the zephyr wind, some prospects of hope recently made known to him, all these sensations unite to impart a long unknown repose to his heart and to lend a smiling color to his imagination. And then She appears once more. His heart stops beating, painful forebodings fill his soul, "Should she prove false to him!" One of the shepherds resumes the melody, but the other answers him no more . . . Sunset . . . distant rolling of thunder . . . loneliness . . . silence . . . Fourth Movement: March to the Scaffold (Allegretto non troppo,
G minor and B-flat major, 44)
He dreams that he has murdered his "Beloved," that he has been condemned to death and is being led to execution. A march that is alternately somber and wild, brilliant and solemn, accompanies the procession . . . The tumultuous outbursts are followed without modulation by measured steps. At last the fixed idea returns, for a moment a last thought of love is revived--which is cut short by the death blow. Fifth Movement: Dream of a Witches' Sabbath (Larghetlo, C major, 44;
and Allegro, E-flat major, C minor, and C major, 68)
He dreams that he is present at a witches' revel, surrounded by horrible spirits, amidst sorcerers and monsters in many fearful forms, who have come together for his funeral. Strange sounds, groans, shrill laughter, distant yells, which other cries seem to answer. The "Beloved" melody is heard again, but it has lost its shy and noble character; it has become a vulgar, trivial, grotesque dance tune. She it is who comes to attend the witches' meeting. Riotous howls and shouts greet her arrival . . . She joins the infernal orgy . . . bells toll for the dead ... a burlesque parody of the Dies irae ... the Witches' round dance . . . The dance and the Dies irae are heard together.
The "Beloved One," who appears throughout these hallucinations is expressed
Hector Berlioz, Memoirs, trans. Rachel (Scott Russell) Holmes and Eleanor Holmes (New YorV: Alfred A. Knopf, Inc., 1932), p. 66.
by Berlioz through a theme, which he called an idle fixe. It is heard in the opening Allegro agitato and returns in various states of metamorphosis in each of the movements. The idea of such a unifying theme was of an early origin, and not original with Berlioz. The melody, in embryonic form had already ap?peared in an earlier work, Estelle, written at the age of twelve. "When I began to write the Symphonie jantastique in 1829," he wrote, "the melody came back to me, and as it seemed to express the overwhelming grief of a young heart in the pangs of a hopeless passion, I welcomed it. It is the air for the first violins at the opening of the largo in the first part of the work, Reveries, Passions; I put it in just as it was." Its identification with Harriet Smithson was there?fore fortuitous, and not originally associated with her.
Undue stress has been placed upon the importance of the above program, and a general misunderstanding of Berlioz' musical intention has ensued. It has be?come a current belief that he never composed without a verbal description of some sort. The truth of the matter is that he never wrote another program after the Symphonie fantastique. Far from being the originator of program music, as many believe (it has sporadically appeared throughout the whole history of mu?sic) , Berlioz was among the first to break with its practice. In fact, immediately after having written the above, he expressed his hope that it would not be printed at concerts, but that the music would "of itself, and irrespective of any dramatic aim, offer an interest in the musical sense alone."
As to the validity of the program, Barzun writes: "Now or never is the time to be literal in order to judge the commonplace that Berlioz wrote the work about himself and Harriet Smithson. The striking thing is the total lack of connection between Berlioz' relations with the actress and the scenes he chose for his story: he had never taken her to a ball, never been with her in the country--much less at a public execution; he hardly knew her except across the footlights. Even the "revenge" of introducing the love theme into the witches' revel answered far more to the need of using the idie fixe in different contexts than to any symbolic significance: this part of the program suggests Faust and a then recent version of DeQuincey's Opium Eater rather than real life."f
In spite of the long appended story, Berlioz did not go beyond the principles of symphonic construction established by Beethoven. Aesthetically, it is im?possible to retain them in any measure, and at the same time submit to extra-musical intentions, which in themselves would determine the freedom of formal procedures. Berlioz called his symphonies "instrumental dramas," and endowed as he was with an extraordinary aural and pictorial imagination, he merely conferred upon the fundamental eighteenth-century symphonic framework an incredible variety of melodic, rhythmic, and color contrasts completely unknown to his day. From savage massed effects, he could move to the most delicate filigree of sound. For his amazing orchestral sonorities and bizarre instrumenta-
Ibid., p. IS.
t Jacques Barzun. Berlioz and His Century, an Introduction to the Age o Romanticism (New York: Meridian Books; rev. ed., 1960), p. 108.
tion, he had no models or guides. It is in this area that the "Symphonie" is truly "fantastique." Nothing revolutionary can be said about the formal outline of die work: the first movement (Reveries and Passions) begins with a con?ventional slow introduction and adopts a modified sonata form with first and second subjects, exposition and recapitulation; the second movement (A Ball), although a waltz, is in the tradition of the classical scherzo; the third move?ment (Scenes in the Country) is a large two-part adagio (like Beethoven in the choral Ninth Symphony, he reverses the classical order of the second and third movements); the fourth movement (March to the Gallows) is inserted into the usual four-movement symphony (Beethoven had done the same in his "Pastoral Symphony" No. VI). The fifth movement (Dream of a Witches' Sab?bath) has a slow introduction and contrasting themes. It is in the last two movements that the greatest daring and originality are in evidence. Here are heard sonorities and intensities of expression, brought about by dissonant har?monies, clashing rhythms, and polytonality (two or more keys at the same time) utterly unknown before Berlioz created them out of his incredibly fer?tile mind.
Saturday Evening, May 11 Trumpet Voluntary........Purcell [Clarke]
Jeremiah Clarke was born in London, c. 16S9; died in London, December I, 1707.
Although this Voluntary is still publicly attributed to Henry Purcell, it is now conceded to be the work of another composer. In the early 187O's a certain Dr. William Spark, town organist at Leeds, England, edited a series of publications called Short Pieces for Organ. The first piece in Book VII, published in 1878, was entitled "Trumpet Voluntary in D major" by Henry Purcell. Spark gave as his authority "an ancient manuscript," then in his possession. No other information was proffered, and at his death in June, 1897, no trace of this source was found. He had, however, sent a reprint to Sir Henry Wood who, envisioning its possi?bilities, made an orchestral arrangement that became familiar to English audi?ences as the "Purcell-Wood Trumpet Voluntary." Through radio performances and recordings it soon became known throughout the entire world. In England it was much in evidence, both in public and private performances, playing a na?tional role in royal coronations and weddings as was befitting a composition by England's world famous composer of the Restoration. Purcell had spent his whole life in the service of the English court, during the reigns of Charles II, James II, and William and Mary. He had played his part in providing "wel?come songs," odes, and works for the stage for royal occasions as a matter of routine. In his works he had realized the potential of the trumpet as a melodic instrument and had written for it as such. Approximately fifty examples could be found in his works that contained significant parts for the instrument. No one had reason to question the authenticity of this Voluntary's authorship. No one, that is, except the Purcell Society who, when editing their sixth volume (Harpsichord and Organ Music) of Purcell's works in 1895, could find no original source to justify its inclusion. It was suspect until 1939, when it was brought to general notice, through the extensive research of C. L. Cudworth, that it was identical with a tune by Jeremiah Clarke, published in a Choice Collection of Ayres for Harpsichord, by J. Young, London, in 1700. In this collection the tune was entitled "The Prince of Denmark's March, a Rondeau by Mr. Clarke." In the preface the editor stated that all pieces included were authentic and were given to him by the composers themselves. The British Museum possesses a set of past-books in manuscript entitled Suite de Clarke in D. The Voluntary is number four of the set. Jeremiah Clarke, although no genius and in no way Purcell's equal, was a good composer who wrote in a charming and often elegant style. It is well within the realm of possibility for him to have
'Musical Times (London), No. 1327, September, 1953, p. 401.
written the "Trumpet Voluntary Tune." The use of the trumpet, moreover, in English music of this period was not exclusive with Purcell. His contemporaries, Daniel Purcell, Blow, Eccles, Finger, Peasable, and Barrett made comparable contributions to its repertory. In the last quarter of the seventeenth century the art of playing the instrument had evolved to the point where the entire register was demanded. The limitation to four or five keys and the natural scale remained constant in this period, however, due to the lack of technical develop?ments.
Concerto in E minor for Violin and Orchestra, Op. 64..............Mendelssohn
Felix Mendclssohn-Bartholdy was born in Hamburg, February 3, 1809; died in Leipzig, November 4, 1847.
His standards and execution, scholarship and composition brought great music within the general appreciation more than any other single musician.
--Percy Young
It is well in these chaotic days to turn to a perfectly balanced nature such as Mendelssohn's, in whose life and art all was order and refinement. There are few instances in the history of art of a man so abundantly gifted with the good qualities of mind and spirit. He had the love as well as the respect of his contemporaries, for aside from his outstanding musical and intellectual gifts he possessed a genial yet pious nature. Moses Mendelssohn, the famous philos?opher, was his grandfather, and in an atmosphere of culture and learning every educational advantage was his. His life was spared the economic insecurity felt so keenly by many composers; he knew neither poverty nor privation, never experienced any great soul-stirring disappointments, never suffered neglect, or any of the other ill fortune that seemed to beset Beethoven, Mozart, Schubert, or Verdi. His essentially happy spirit and healthy mind were unclouded by melancholy; no morbidity colored his thinking. His genius was of the highest order, but it was untried, untempered by fire, unstrengthened by forces of op?position. It produced an art that was, like his life, cultured, well-ordered, and serene.
Mendelssohn's music, like that of its period in Germany, for all its finesse and high perfection, has something decidedly dated about it. Full of priggish formulas, it was the delight of Queen Victoria and the English--thoroughly conventional, polite, stylish music--as rear guard as Frederick IV, who ad?mired and promoted it. Influenced by the oratorios of Handel and Haydn, the Waldlieder of Weber, and the piano music of Schubert, Mendelssohn's art was eclectic in detail, but in general it bore no relation whatever to contemporary music in France nor to the overpowering romanticism of his own country. His habitual forms were those of the classical school, yet his idiom was often fresh and ingenious. In the minds of some, grief might have lent a deeper undertone to his art, or daring innovation have given it a vitality and a virility. But innovation was foreign to Mendelssohn's habit of mind and he rarely attempted
it. He must be thought of as a preserver of continuity with the past rather than as a breaker of new paths. His instinctively clear and normal mind, however, produced a music that should refresh us today with its inner logic, its order, and its tranquillity.
In July of 1838 Mendelssohn wrote to Ferdinand David: "I should like to write a violin concerto for you next winter. One in E minor runs through my mind, the beginning of which gives me no peace." No progress seems to have been made immediately, for in 1839 Mendelssohn again wrote David: "Now that is very nice of you to press me for a violin concerto. I have the liveliest desire to write one for you, and if I have a few propitious days here (Hochheim, near Coblenz) I shall bring you something of the sort. But it is not an easy task. You want it to be brilliant, and how is such a one as I to manage that The whole first solo is to consist of the high E." It is well to explain that although Mendelssohn studied the violin in his earlier youth, when he played any stringed instrument it was the viola he preferred.
Thus, under the inspiration, advice, and practical suggestion of David, the concerto gradually took form. Though the score bears the date of completion of September 16, 1844, Mendelssohn, according to his custom, continued to revise and polish it. David took infinite pains with the technical details of the solo part; he was responsible for much of the cadenza as it now stands. The re?sults of Mendelssohn's instinct for what was effective, and his unerring percep?tion of what was artistically suitable, combined with David's knowledge of the capacities of the violin as a solo instrument, have yielded the world a master?piece in this field of musical literature. It is the only published example of its kind by Mendelssohn.
The orchestral accompaniment of the violin concerto is scored for two flutes, two oboes, two clarinets, two bassoons, two horns, two trumpets, kettledrums, and strings. The three movements are meant to be played without pause.
The first movement (Allegro molio appassionato, E minor, 22 time) has an introductory measure in the orchestra; the solo violin follows immediately with the principal theme. After this statement the orchestra enters with a section of its own, based on the same material, following which the violin brings for?ward a new idea over a pulsating figure in the winds. There is passage work in triplets, leading to the second theme in G major, played by the clarinets and flutes over a long held G in the solo violin. The development begins in the solo instrument with a working out of the principal theme, this being the only ma?terial that is used. The cadenza is introduced at the close of the development instead of at the end of the recapitulation, as was usual with other writers. The recapitulation enters shyly, as it were, in the midst of the arpeggios of the solo violin. The subjects are presented as before, the second theme being now in E. There is no pause between the first movement and the Andante.
The second movement (Andante, C major, 68 time) presents eight measures of introduction before the violin announces the principal theme. It is interesting to remember that Mendelssohn originally intended the accompaniment (in the strings) to this melody to be played pizzicato. "I intended to write it in this
way," wrote Mendelssohn to David, "but something or other--I really don't know what--prevented me." There is a middle section, of more agitated charac?ter, and the first part then returns with some variation in the solo part.
The finale, a joyous rondo, is preceded by a short connecting passage (Allegro non troppo, 44 time). The main movement [Allegro molto vivace, E major, 44 time) has its first theme set forth by the solo instrument. Following bril?liant passage work in the violin, the orchestra brings in, fortissimo, a new theme in B major. This is worked over at considerable length, and the violin sings a new subject in G major over a development (in the strings) of the principal theme. A recapitulation ensues, in which the orchestra takes this theme while the solo instrument brings forward the opening subject of the movement. The fortissimo second theme appears once more in the orchestra, this time in E major, and a brilliant coda brings the concerto to a close.
Concerto No. 1 in D major for Violin and Orchestra, Op. 19........Prokofiev
Sergey Sergeyevitch Prokofiev was born in Sontsovska, Russia, April 23, 1891; died in Moscow, March 5, 1953.
If we wished to establish Prokofiev's geneology as a composer, we would probably have to betake ourselves to the 18th century ... to composers . . . who have inner sympathy and naivete of creative art in common with him. Prokofiev is a classicist, not a romantic, and his appearance must be considered as a belated relapse of classicism in Russia.
--Leonid Sabaneyev
Sergey Prokofiev, a senior member of a very significant group of Soviet Republic composers, of whom Dmitri Shostakovich is perhaps the most sensa?tional member, after a few startling excursions into the grotesque and only an occasional sojourn into the cacophonous realm of the musical modernism of his day, produced music that was not merely interesting and clever but also bril?liantly effective.
At a period when European audiences either were being doped into a state of insensibility by the vacuity of Post-Impressionists, incensed to riots by the shocking barbarisms of Stravinsky, or baffled into boredom by the mathematical cerebration of Schonberg (whose music seemed, as far as emotional expression was concerned, to be hermetically sealed), the spectacle of a composer who was still able to create music that had natural ease and fluidity, and a freshness and spontaneity that was essentially "classical," was as surprising as it was eventful.
During a protracted absence from his native land between 1918 and 1932, at which time he traveled in Japan and the United States and lived in Paris, Prokofiev won a tremendous reputation as an international composer. Such works as the Classical Symphony (1916-17), the Scythian Suite (1916), the opera Love of Three Oranges (1921), which he composed for the Chicago Opera Asso?ciation, and the ballet Chout (1921) had, with their driving energy, clear de?signs, bright colors, and ironic overtones, carried his name throughout the musi?cal world. Upon his return to Russia in 1934, and his identification with
Soviet cultural life and its rigid proscription on free expression, he steered a cautious course between his own artistic instincts and the demands of the State. Gradually, a shift from his former rather abstract and sometimes abstruse manner to one more immediate and acceptable to Russian audiences was noted. In a tempered frame of mind he wrote, among other works, Lieutenant Kiji in 1934, the Second Violin Concerto in 1935, a Russian Overture and Peter and the Wolf, both in 1936, incidental music for the film Alexander Nevsky, and a cantata dedicated to Stalin, Zdravitsa, in 1939, an opera based upon Tolstoy's War and Peace in 1940, his Fifth Symphony in 1945 (his Fourth Symphony had been written seventeen years before), and the Sixth Symphony in 1947.
Aside from Russian folk-song sources to which he turned for these works, a new romantic idiom began to shape itself. In spite of his conscious attempts to abide by the dictates of the State, he, along with Shostakovich and Khatcha-turian, was attacked by the Communist Party's famous decree of February 11, 1948, for writing music that "smelled strongly of the spirit of modern bourgeois music of Europe and America," and again later in the year by Tikhon Khren-nikov, secretary-general of the Soviet Composers' Union, for his "bourgeois formalism." In spite of these reprimands, Prokofiev, to the end of his life five years later, continued to produce works of high individuality and artistic value. He never lost entirely the clear, terse style and motoric drive he revealed in his earlier works, and although in his compositions after 1935 there was a new emotional quality, an almost romantic richness of melody and the fulfillment of a latent lyricism, the old style was still definite and clearly defined. This con?tinued to give to his music the same sureness and spontaneity that has always been its chief distinction. At the time of his death he was at the very height of his creative powers. He had become infinitely more than a clever composer who delighted in the grotesque; his music is, according to Leonid Sabaneyev and many other critics, the most original and valuable that Russian art of this century has produced.
Although Prokofiev wrote his D major Violin Concerto in 1913, its official world premiere did not occur until a decade later, on October 18, 1923, at the Theatre National de l'Opera in Paris, Serge Koussevitsky conducting. It was published the following year and was first performed in the United States on April 24, 1925, again with Koussevitsky, then the new conductor of the Boston Symphony Orchestra. The work caused perplexity in the audience which greeted it with outbursts of laughter. Most of the critics were likewise baffled. In the Musical Courier (1925) an article entitled "Is It to Laugh" declared:
The violin concerto of Prokofiev was played and a good many people laughed, in conse?quence of which many able pens have been set to work discussing the limits of humorous suggestion in music designed to be serious. The fact seems to be that it was not meant to be altogether solemn, and that the composer's intention was to make the audience laugh with him and not at him. Be that as it may, the scoring is admirable.
Whatever caused the bewilderment in the audience and confusion among the critics thirty-eight years ago is impossible to surmise. Today the quiet charm
and the transparent beauty of this work, so devoid of empty bombast and vulgar display, are immediately apparent.
In three relatively short movements, a tranquil Andantino, a scintillating Scherzo, and a warmly lyrical Finale, Prokofiev displays not only his clarity of style and economy of means, but also his powers of direct communication. H. T. Parker, a highly respected critic in his day, wrote the following review in the Boston Evening Postscript after the American premiere. The critical opinion expressed thirty-seven years ago is pertinent today:
He has done the miracle--written a music that sounds like no other in the kind, re?vitalizing a withered form, pursuing, and sometimes capturing, a fitful, evasive beauty; gaining new and strange sonorities, restless again but also magical. The attendant orchestra ... no more than pairs the woodwinds and trumpets; few and sparingly used are the instruments of percussion. The part of the solo-violin is abrupt, changeful, exacting, hard to keep in mind and at the fingers' ends, rather than of superlative difficulty ... In the upper tones the violin remains persistently. Yet they are seldom sharp-edged, thin or shrill . . . Low-scaled and as gently colored is the orchestral background. Often it has a silvery sheen across which threads the violin, warmer and deeper tinted. There are euphonies, there are dissonances, both hushed rather than outspoken . . . The formal progress avoids the academic orthodoxies, the routined mechanics. Yet in a short-breathed and inconstant music there is discoverable symphonic web . . . The spell of wandering and change haunts the hearer.
Symphony No. 2 in D major, Op. 73.......Brahms
The differences that actually exist between the art of the two great con?temporaries Brahms and Wagner are slight indeed. Criticism in the past has been too insistent on symbolizing each of these masters as the epitome of opposing forces in the music of their age. It has identified their aesthetic theories and the conflict that raged around them with their art and has come to the false conclusion that no two artists reveal a greater disparity of style, expression, and technique.
In truth, Wagner and Brahms were products of the same artistic soil, nur?tured by the same forces that conditioned the standards and norms of art in their time. They both lived in a spiritually poverty stricken and soul sick period, when anarchy seemed to have destroyed culture; an age which was distinctly unfavorable to genuinely great art, unfavorable because of its pre?tentiousness and exclusiveness and its hidebound worship of the conventional. Its love of luxury and its crass materialism brought in its wake disillusion?ment, weariness, and indifference to beauty; its showy exterior did not hide the inner barrenness of its culture. Brahms and Wagner, opposed in verbal theory, stand together strong in the face of opposing forces, disillusioned beyond doubt with the state of their world, but not defeated by it. Both shared in a serious purpose and noble intention and sought the expression of the sublime in their art, and each in his own way tried to strengthen the flaccid spirit of the time by sounding a note of courage and hopefulness. Brahms's first piano concerto, the German Requiem, the Alto Rhapsody, the Song of Destiny, and particularly the great tragic songs all speak in the somber and
earnest but lofty accents of Wagner. It is no accident that the real Brahms seems to be the serious, contemplative Brahms of these works, for here is to be found the true expression of an artist at grips with the artistic and spiritual problems of his time.
The overly introspective and supersensitive artist is likely to cut himself off from a larger arc of experience in life and is prone to exaggerate the importance of the more intimate and personal sentiments, and when, as in the age of Brahms, Tchaikovsky, and Wagner, such a tendency is widespread a whole school may become febrile and erotic. But Brahms, even as Beethoven before him, was essentially of a hearty and vigorous mind. Standing abreast of such vital spirits as Carlyle and Browning, he met the challenge of his age and triumphed in his art. By the exercise of a clear intelligence and a strong critical faculty he was able to temper the tendency toward emotional excess and to avoid the pitfalls of utter despair into which Tchaikovsky, with his persistent penchant for melancholy expression, his feverish sensibility, and his neurotic fears, was invariably led. Although Brahms experienced disillusionment no less than Wagner and Tchaikovsky, his was another kind of tragedy--the tragedy of a man born out of his time. He suffered from the changes in taste and per?ception that inevitably come with the passing of time. His particular disillusion?ment, however, did not affect the power and sureness of his artistic impulse. With grief he saw the ideals of Beethoven dissolve in a welter of cheap emotion?alism. He saw the classic dignity of that art degraded by an infiltration of tawdry programmatic effects and innocuous imitation and witnessed finally its subjuga?tion to poetry and the dramatic play. All of this he opposed with his own grand style--profoundly moving, noble, and dignified. With a sweep and thrust he forced music out upon her mighty pinions to soar once more. What Matthew Arnold wrote of Milton's verse might well have been written of the music of Brahms: "The fullness of thought, imagination, and knowledge make it what it is" and its mighty power lies "in the refining and elevation wrought in us by the high and rare excellence of the grand style."
Brahms lived his creative life upon the "cold white peaks" and in his epic conception of form often verged upon the expression of the sublime. No master ever displayed a more inexorable self-discipline or held his art in higher respect. He was a master of masters, always painstaking in the devotion he put into his work and undaunted in his search for perfection. The Brahms of music is the man, in Milton's magnificent phrase, "of devout prayer to that Eternal Spirit that can enrich with all utterance and knowledge, and send out His seraphim with the hallowed fire from His altar, to touch and purify the lips of whom He pleases."
The criticism of the Brahms Second Symphony, written by Edward Hanslick, critic for the Vienna Neue Freie Presse, noted in "its uniform coloring and its sunny clearness" an advance upon the first, and one that is not to be underesti?mated. There was no possible doubt of the success of the symphony in Vienna. Many of the other important members of the critical brotherhood in Vienna, who had found the first symphony "abstruse" and "difficult of comprehension"
waxed enthusiastic in their admiration of the second, and hailed it as a grateful relief. The abstruseness and austerity of the forbidding C-minor Symphony, however, have worn off, and today the observation may be made that time has set these two symphonies in rather a different light for the present generation. The C minor seems to have borrowed something of the rich tenderness, some?thing of the warmly human quality, that has been regarded as the special prop?erty of the D major, and to have conferred upon the latter in return something of its own sobriety and depth of feeling. The C minor appears far less austere and much more compassionate than it evidently did in 1876, and the D major seems less unqualifiedly a thing of "pure happiness and gently tender grace."
This critical opinion of the D-major Symphony is stated more completely by Walter Niemann:
The Second Symphony, Op. 73, in D major, which followed the First three years later, may be called Brahms's Pastoral Symphony. Just as the First Symphony, with its sombre pathos, struggled upwards in thirds from movement to movement out of darkness into the sun, to a godlike serenity and freedom, so the Second, with its loftily Anacreon?tic mood, descends in a peaceful cycle of descending thirds in its three movements, the first being in D, the second in B, the third in G major. Even today the Brahms Second Symphony is still undeservedly a little overshadowed by the First and Third. Like Beet?hoven's Pastoral Symphony, on its appearance it was dismissed, far too curtly and pre?maturely, as marking a "little rest" on the part of the composer--perhaps due to fatigue after the deeply impassioned heroics of the First Symphony--and as being throughout a harmless, pleasing, agreeable, cheerfully "sunlit" idyll. Nothing could be further from the truth! The period between the sixties and eighties of the last century, which, in spite of all Germany's victorious wars, was so peculiarly languid, inert, and full of bourgeois sensibility in art, as well as in politics and human relations, had, none the less, as its artistic ideal a heart-rending pathos and monumental grandeur. Nowadays, regard?ing things from a freer and less prejudiced point of view, we are fortunately able to detect far more clearly the often oppressive spiritual limitations, moodiness, and atmos?phere of resignation in such pleasant, apparently cheerful and Anacreontic works as Brahms's Second Symphony. Like its sister-symphony in the major--namely, the Third --the Second, though nominally in the major, has the veiled, indeterminate Brahmsian "Moll-Dur" character, hovering between the two modes.
Indeed, this undercurrent of tragedy in the second Brahms symphony, quiet and slight though it may be, is perceptible to a fine ear in every movement. It is audible in the first movement, with its almost excessive wealth of themes and the unusually broad plan of its exposition section, which amalgamates so many diverse elements into a united whole--in the two A major themes of the concluding section, one with its aggressive upward leaps in a dotted rhythm, the other unified by strongly imitative devices and full of passionate insistence; but it can also be perceived in the fragments of the theme worked into an ominous itretto on the wind in the development section. The second movement, the adagio non troppo, also reveals the tragic undercurrent of this symphony in its suffering, melancholy, and deeply serious spirit. How dejected and tremulous in mood is the noble principal theme on the 'cellos, to what pitch of deep, passionate agi?tation does the development section work up, how musing and sorrowful is the close! It is only the F-sharp major second subject, floating softly by in Schumannesque syncopa?tions, that brings a touch of brightness into the melancholy scene of this adagio by the brief glance which it casts back into the lost paradise of childhood and youth. The serious undercurrent also makes itself felt within quite small limits in what is perhaps the most typical and individual movement, the Brahmsian "intermezzo pastorale" of its allegretto grazioso. Less, perhaps, in a trio which forms the middle section (presto in 24 time)--with the slight Hungarian tinge in both its rhythm and its theme, formed
by diminution from the principal subject of the first section--than in the enchanting, half-elegiac, half-mischievous principal section of the G minor, allegretto. The way in which the' naively pastoral oboe sings forth the perfectly simple, simply harmonized theme in" accents of sweet, suave melancholy once again recalls the young composer of the D major Serenade. But it is perhaps in the finale that the quiet tragic undercurrent of this ostensibly cheerful symphony is most plainly apparent; in the frequent energetic attempts to shake off the all too peaceful and idyllic reverie, in the fantastic, romantic, and ghostly elements which can be seen glimmering beneath the ashes in a supernatural, uncanny way throughout the whole development section. For all its apparent vivacity of movement and the apparently unclouded brightness of the D major key, the finale hides within it many sombre features, and even spectral and supernatural visions.
Thus Brahms's Second Symphony, as a great idyll with a., slightly tragic tinge, which we may compare with that great, ruthlessly tragic poet Hebbel's fine epic Mutter und Kind, was at the same time, as a "tragic idyll," a piece of the most genuine and typical local Holstein and Low German art. Its quiet, unconscious tragedy hidden beneath the blossoms of a soft idyll of man and nature, with a subdued evening tinge and a prevailing pastoral spirit, carries direct conviction to a discriminating and unprejudiced listener-far more so, in any case, than the conscious and almost forced and deliberate tragedy of the First Symphony or the Tragic Overture. Here again, perhaps, there has been no conductor of our day, who has simply ignored the traditional legend as to the innocent, idyllic charac?ter of the second Brahms symphony and interpreted it as what it really is: a great, wonder?ful, tragic idyll, as rich in sombre and subdued colour as it is in brightness. If one knew nothing but the finale, one might rather call it an "Anacreontic" symphony. For the subdued shimmer of festal joyousness in its principal subject (allegro con spirito) reminds us of Cherubini's Anacreon Overture, and the broad, jovial singing quality of its second theme, in A major, breathes pure joie de vivre. What is more, the transition passages and development sparkle with a Haydnesque spirit. Yet, in spite of its predominant character, now pungent and sparkling, now dreamy and romantic, even this movement, though ap?parently so full of unclouded cheerfulness, is rich in mysterious Wagnerian visions, suggestive of the Wanderer, in a mystic, woodland, faery, nature atmosphere recalling the Rheingold in many sombre and even ghostly passages.
The first movement (Allegro non troppo, D major, 34 time) brings for?ward the principal subject at once without any introduction. The transitional passage leading to the second subject commences with a new and undulating melody in the first violins, the second subject entering, some forty measures later, with a broad and singing theme played by the violoncellos. After the repetition of this in the woodwinds a second section of the subject is introduced, a vigorous marcato passage in A major, followed by a further presentation of the former theme given out by the violoncellos, this time accompanied by a triple figure in the flute. This closes the exposition. The development works out with consider?able elaborateness the principal theme and the undulating passage which led in the exposition from the first to the second subject. The latter theme is not worked out at all. The recapitulation brings forward the same material as that which has been heard in the exposition, but its presentation is modified as to the instrumentation, and the subjects are stated with contrapuntal embellish?ments in the accompanying parts. At the conclusion of the second subject a coda is introduced, its material being largely concerned with the opening theme of the movement, and ending tranquilly with a sustained chord, piano, in the wind instruments.
Walter Niemann, Brahmt (New York: Tudor Publishing Co., 1937).
The second movement (Adagio non troppo, B major, 44 time) begins with an expressive melody in the violoncellos, the first six measures being later repeated by the first and second violins in unison. An imitative passage, heard successively in the first horn, the oboes, and the flutes, leads eventually to the second theme (L'istesso tempo, ma grazioso, 128 time). This, in its turn, is succeeded by another idea, heard in the strings, and developed in the wood?winds with a counterpoint in the violas and violoncellos. After an elaborate development of this material a recapitulation of the former subjects is intro?duced, these being, however, considerably modified in length and in the manner of their presentation, the movement ending quietly with a final suggestion of its opening theme.
The third movement (Allegretto grazioso [quasi andantino] in G major, 34 time) is written in the form of an intermezzo with two episodes or trios. Its principal theme is heard in the oboe, the two clarinets, and bassoons, with a pizzicato accompaniment in the violoncellos. This is succeeded by the first episode in 24 time (Presto ma non assai) which is really a variant of the open?ing subject which, first presented in the strings, is re-echoed by the woodwinds. After a modified restatement of the opening theme the second episode in 38 time (Presto ma non assai) is introduced. Following this the first theme is heard for the last time, beginning in F-sharp major, and modulating later to the original tonality of G major, in which key the movement closes.
The finale (Allegro con spirito, in D major, 22 time) is written in the sonata form. Its principal subject opens in the strings. A long transitional passage leading to the second theme is based on this material. The second subject, in A major, is first allotted to the strings, afterward being taken up by the wood?winds with an accompanying figure in the strings, drawn from the first measure of the principal subject.
Another division of this theme--in the full orchestra, ben marcato--is heard later, eventually leading into the development. This part of the movement is occupied solely with a working out of the opening and closing measures of the principal theme. The recapitulation presents the two principal subjects in much the same fashion as that in which they have been in the exposition, and it comes to a close with an elaborate and lengthy coda, the material of which is partly taken from the first measure of the second subject and partly from the opening measure of the first.
Sunday Afternoon, May 12 THE CREATION.............Haydn
Joseph Haydn was born in Rohrau, March 31, 1732; died in Vienna, May 31, 1809.
One has to shed tears about the greatness, the majesty, the goodness of God. The soul is uplifted. One cannot but love and admire. --Princess Eleanore Liechtenstein
In the seventy-seven years of his life, Haydn had witnessed and helped to shape the great classic tradition in musical composition, and had lived to see his formal and serene world sink under the surging tide of Romanticism. When he died in 1809, William Wordsworth was thirty-nine years old and had eleven years before published his Romantic Manifesto in the Lyrical Ballads. Haydn saw the birth and death of Mozart and lived until Beethoven, who was thirty-nine years of age, had already produced, among his epoch-making works, six of the nine symphonies, five piano concertos, and one early version of the opera Fidelio.
Haydn, however, played no part in nor reflected in his art that period of deep unrest at the end of the eighteenth century that resulted in the literary and philosophical insurrection of which Goethe in Germany and Rousseau in France were representative. Rousseau and the Sturm und Drang period in Ger?many had announced that an old civilization had broken up and a new one was about to appear. Swift progression was seething all over Europe; Beethoven had caught this spirit in his "Eroica" symphony and the "Appassionata" sonata. But Haydn, living with his memories and gath?ering the few last laurels thrown at his feet, heard only the faintest echoes of these great works which tore at the very roots of musical expression and rent the whole fabric of musical forms.
The bombshells of Napoleon's army could be heard by Haydn as he lay dying near Vienna, and, with his death, disappeared the even tenor and calm serenity of existence so beautifully symbolized by his own life and so confidently ex?pressed in his music. With Haydn died the classical tradition in music.
Music was late in responding to the violent note of revolt against tradition for the sake of emotion, chiefly because music in the eighteenth century was in a transitional state of technical development and was attempting to gain articulation and freedom through the cultivation of forms and designs unique to it. For this reason the opposition between classic and romantic principles in the second half of the eighteenth century was not as clearly defined in music as in literature. Haydn represents this period in music history; he systematized musical forms and secularized expression. Not only did he realize the unique powers of music as an art in itself and evolve and codify new forms, but he
achieved the glorification of the natural music which exists in the hearts of the people, by elevating its essentially healthy and vigorous qualities into the realm of art. It is beyond controversy that, of the great masters of the German genius epoch, Haydn was the first to make himself intelligible to the masses. He spoke a musical language that appealed with the same directness to the skilled artist as to the merest layman. He disseminated his art among all. He was its true secularizer; he brought it to earth.
In his music, every thought takes on a grace of form. With a unity of the whole, there is a lucidity in detail, a neatness and elegance, and a perfect ease and clearness in the exposition of his ideas. For all who enjoy clear writing, who rejoice to see expression achieved with graceful directness and charming cer?tainty, Haydn composed. He is never too introspective, and his music is never too subjective. In the Ossianic phrase, he does not indulge in the "luxury of grief"; there is no passionate striving for the unobtainable here. Haydn's one theme in art is the joy and beauty of the moment; he saw things simply; and he recorded his impressions with honesty, frankness, and great economy of means.
"Haydn's works," wrote Lang, "occupy a definite position in our musical life, a position that could not be filled by anyone or anything else. Love of life, wholesomeness, clarity, purity of feeling, noble and profound sentiments, in?exhaustible humor, and impeccable craftsmanship were the characteristic traits of his art which should be treasured by us in whose art they appear so seldom."
Under the egis of Johann Salomon, a renowned impresario and erstwhile violinist, Haydn, near the end of his life, made two visits to London, England. The first in 1790, when he was fifty-eight and the undisputed master of in?strumental music, climaxed in the most brilliant successes of his long and distinguished career. His enthusiastic reception in the English capital bore im?portant results. He created six of the now famous twelve "London" Symphonies; he was awarded, at the instigation of the renowned music historian Dr. Charles Burney, the honorary degree Doctor of Music at Oxford; and he received the first strong incentive to write in a form he had long neglected--the oratorio.f In May of 1791, he attended a Handel Festival at Westminster Abbey, and the impact of this performance led ultimately to writing in this form. Haydn's former familiarity with the epic oratorio style of Handel is unknown, but the effect of the great massed choruses upon him at this concert was soul shaking. Burst?ing with tears at the Hallelujah Chorus, he uttered his now famous tribute to Handel, "He is the master of us all!"
When Haydn returned to Vienna in 1795, after a second journey to London (January 1794) during which time he composed the final six "London" Sym?phonies, he turned his attention, with the memory of the Handel concert still fresh, to the writing of The Creation. Salomon had given him the libretto,
Paul Henry Lang, Music in Western Civilization (New York: W. W. Norton and Company, Inc., 1941) p. 635.
t He had composed his first oratorio II Ritorno di Tobia in 1774-75. -.
arranged by an utterly unknown Mr. Lidley. The text, based upon the first chapter of Genesis and more particularly upon Milton's Paradise Lost, was in English, a language not too familiar to Haydn. The German translation was entrusted to Baron van Swietonf who, after a visit to London, returned like Haydn, a Handel enthusiast. The choice of van. Swieton was propitious, for in his translation of Lidley's libretto, he helped to create the entire musical structure which is made up of accompanied and unaccompanied recitatives, a variety of aria forms, choruses that were used together or alternated with solo voices--all determined, as in Handel's oratorios, by the nature of the text. While the influence of the form was strong, there is no mistaking Haydn's in?dividuality of style throughout. Handel was a guide and inspiration, not a model to be imitated.
The Creation was composed during the years 1797-98 and was first privately performed on April 29 and 30, 1798, at the palace of Prince Schwartzenberg. From every account it was a spectacular event; crowds gathered outside, but only the privileged were allowed to enter. The Princess Liechtenstein records that "all the elegant Polish, English and Viennese ladies were present"; Carpini, an early biographer of Haydn, writes, "I was present and I can assure you I never witnessed such a scene. The flower of the literary and musical society of Vienna were assembled in the room, which was well adapted to the purpose. The most profound silence, the most scrupulous attention, a sentiment, I might say, of religious respect prevailed when the first stroke of the bow was given"; a writer in the Neuer teutscker Merkur later recalled, "three days have gone since that enrapturing evening, and still the music sounds in my ears and in my heart; still the mere memory of all the flood of emotions then experienced constricts my chest."i Ferdinand Pohl writes that "the noblemen . . . paid the expenses, and handed over to Haydn the entire proceeds amounting to 4,000 florins. The impression produced was extraordinary, the whole audience was deeply moved and Haydn (who had conducted the performance) confessed that he could not describe his sensations. "One moment," he said, "I was as cold as ice, the next I seemed on fire. More than once I was afraid I should have a stroke."? Subsequent performances were numerous throughout the musical world during the last years of his life, and brought him great rewards, both financial and honorary. His last appearance in public was at a performance of The Creation in Vienna. This poignant moment in music history is sympa?thetically retold by Geiringer:
On ns other occasion did the love and respect shown to the composer become more apparent than at the remarkable performance of The Creation in Italian on March 27, 1808.
Tovey, in his Essays in Musical Analysis, Vol. V, contends that Lidley is a misspelling of Linley, a renowned musician and manager. His son was Thomas Linley, a violin prodigy and friend of Mozart, and his eldest daughter was Mrs. Richard Brinsley Sheridan.
t Baron Gottfried van Swieton (1734-1803) was the son of the physician to Empress Maria Theresa, prefect of the Vienna Court Library, and ambassador to the Court of Frederick the Great of Prussia. There he became familiar with the then unknown works of Johann Sebastian Bach, whose music he introduced to Mozart. Beethoven dedicated his first symphony to him in 1800.
t Karl Geiringer, Haydn, a Creative Life in Music (New York: W. W. Norton and Co., Inc., 1946).
5 Ferdinand Pohl, Joseph Haydn (Leipiig: H. Botstiber, 1927), Vol. III.
The concert was planned in celebration of Haydn's approaching seventy-sixth birthday. The master was formally invited, and in view of the mild weather, his physician allowed him to leave the house. ... A huge crowd, which had to be kept in order by military guards, had gathered. Members of the high nobility as well as distinguished musicians, among them Beethoven . . . received the master, who was carried in an armchair into the beautiful lecture hall. On his appearance a flourish of trumpets and drums was sounded, mingled with jubilant exclamations: "Long live Haydn!" The master was seated amog the highest aristocracy next to Princess Eszterhazy, who wrapped the old man in her own shawl when she noticed him shivering a little. . . . The French ambassador, noticing with pleasure that Haydn was wearing the gold medal from the Concerts des Amateurs on his coat, exclaimed: "This medal is not enough; you should receive all the medals that are distributed in the whole of France." Poems in German and Italian were written for the occasion and were handed to the master by his friends. . . . The audience was in an un?usually receptive state of mind. When thunderous applause followed the words "Let there be light . . . and there was light," Haydn lifted his hands upwards and exclaimed: "Not from me; from thence comes everything." The reception given to him and his work moved the master indescribably. Indeed, he was so shaken that it was thought advisable not to let him stay on after the interval. Everybody present realized that the days on earth of the frail old man were numbered. The people thronged around him with tears in their eyes, shaking his hands and embracing him. Beethoven at this moment behaved not at all like a "Great Mo?gul," for he knelt down before Haydn and fervently kissed the hands and forehead of his old teacher. Only in broken sentences could Haydn express his thanks and good wishes, but before he was carried out, he lifted his hand as if to bless the whole assembly.
Although the text for The Creation is based largely upon Milton's Paradise Lost, Books VII and VIII, little of the magnificence of his lines survives in Lidley's libretto. Removed by translation and adaptation from the original, it does not penetrate beneath the beauties of the merely terrestrial portion of the story; it never reaches the splendor of the vast symbolic phantasmagory of Milton's poem. The basic concept of the nature of the universe remains un?changed, however, and with this, Haydn was in sympathetic agreement. Milton's strongly Protestant cast of mind inclined him to a literal understanding of the scriptures. He believed that they were meant to be universally understood and not complicated with scientific references. Although he had affinities with the rationalizing spirit of his age and carried the burden of the scientific thinking of his time,f he, as a Puritan, had meditated long on the Bible and had accepted its account of the creation as authentic and sacred. The imagination by which one can get outside of himself and his times and evoke challenging and pro?vocative thought was not among Milton's gifts. However vast his conceptions, however forceful he could be in describing the universe in all its immensity, he never allowed his imagination, powerful as it was, to come into conflict with Biblical history. His picture of the creation therefore is a vivid retelling of the creative act, when God drew space out of chaos and made it fruitful. As a sincere believer, he intended in Paradise Lost merely to "justify the ways of God to men."
Gdringer, op. at., pp. 169-70.
t A century before Milton, Copernicus had announced the physical order of the universe that supplanted the old Ptolemic system in which the earth, not the sun, was thought to be its center, a concept that had held firmly since the first quarter of the Christian era. Kepler and Galileo bad established this theory upon a firm basis, yet the new concept bad made little progress by the middle of the seventeenth century.
It is doubtful, however, that Haydn had ever read Milton's poems. Interested as he was in the English astronomer William Herschell and his famous telescope through which he viewed the heavens in London in 1792, he was far more likely, as Tovey suggests, to have been familiar with the Nebular Hypothesis theory advanced in 1796 (two years before The Creation) by the French astronomer Laplace. But like Milton, Haydn had a simple and unquestioning faith in God, that no scientific discovery could disturb. Skepticism and doubt were, on this issue, as unknown to him as they were to the Puritan poet. And so, with the utmost devotion Haydn approached his task. "Never," he wrote, "was I so devout as when composing The Creation. I knelt down every day and prayed to God to strengthen me for my work." At the end, he wrote, as he did whenever he completed a composition, the words Laus Deo, through which he expressed his praise and thanksgiving to his Maker.
The score is divided into three parts:
Past I includes the first four days of the creation. From infinite space sym?bolized by the opening unison C-minor chord, Haydn evolves his conception of chaos before God brought order into the universe, in the utmost classical man?ner, by remaining for twenty bars in the key of C minor. A descending figure introduces ambiguous and unexpected moments that create a feeling of loneliness and vague uncertainty. There is none of Milton's "dark, wasteful, wild" realm here, no raging discordant sound. As Tovey points out, "classical tonality is Haydn's musical cosmos." Thus, with the use of chromatic passing tones, sus?pensions and wandering harmonies, he leads us from this boundless and lifeless region into that of cosmic life, with an ascending figure in the woodwinds. The words of the Bible (Genesis, Book I) are now distributed between the archangels Raphael (bass), Uriel (tenor), and Gabriel (soprano), who narrate, in turn, the story of the creation of the world, while the end of each day is celebrated with thanksgiving and rejoicing by choirs of heavenly hosts (chorus).
Moments worthy of attention in Part I are: The passage in which the chorus moves suddenly from C minor (pianissimo) after the words, "Let there be light" to C major (forte) with "And there was light" where the chorus repeats on changing harmonies the words "A new created world springs up at God's command"; the naive but effective tone painting on the words, "Howling raged the blast of the tempest," "Crashing thunder resounded on high," "light and flaky snow" in Raphael's narrative, and again where, in Italian bravura style, the tumult of "Rolling in foaming billows" is contrasted with the quiet "Lightly murmuring gently glides . . . The crystal brook"; the serene cantilena "Now rob'd in cool refreshing green," in which Gabriel describes the beauty of the fields, the flowers, the growing fruits, the "kingly groves" and "lofty hills"; the concise Handelian chorus "Awake the harp" when the heavenly hosts proclaim the end of the third day and praise God; Uriel's recitative, in which he describes
Pierre Simon Laplace (1749-1827) stated hi.i theory that our solar system was formed out of a nebula--a cloud of intensely heated ipu. He based his theory upon those before him (Johannes Kepler, Isaac Newton, Emanuel Swedenborg, and Immanuel Kant). The theory was accepted by scientists for over a century.
the rising sun with the stepwise lift of the melody and the constant increase in the number of instruments, and the mild light of the moon in the lower basses, pianissimo; the quick change of tempo and the mood on the words "The boundless vaults of heav'ns domain"; the brilliant Handelian paean with chorus and the three archangels again praising God and the "Wonder of His work."
Part II begins with the fifth day as Gabriel narrates the creation of living things. In "On mighty wings now circling soars the eagle," the lark is heard in the clarinet while "adoring, coos the tender turtle dove" is realistically evoked in bassoons and violins. Raphael speaks God's words when he says, "Be fruitful all, and multiply," while divided violas, cellos, and basses create rich and abundant sound.
The three archangels again proclaim the greatness of God in Haydn's most brilliant choral writing, accented by vocal embellishments in the voices oi Gabriel and Uriel.
Part II continues with the sixth day, and the creation of "cattle and creeping things and beasts of the earth," the most charmingly nai've passage in the work. Haydn's delightful humor is everywhere apparent. "Why should he be forbidden," writes Tovey, "to use at least some of his might to make hs mirth in the Garden of Eden" Each animal is announced by a short instrumental characterization. Unlike those in Milton, who "sprang as broke from bonds . . . struggling out of the earth," Haydn's animals appear before us calm and free. The lion, introduced by a low trill, does not roar; the tiger leaps but gently--"no beast of prey," as Tovey notes, "until after the fall of man," the stag is nimble in fast runs; the steed in 68 rhythm gallops perhaps, but has no "fiery look"; "the fields, the meadows green" are evoked in a short pastoral in?strumental interlude, and the insects, to a short agitated figure, appear but do not swarm; but "creep with sinuous trace the worm," is unmistakably heard in the orchestra. Raphael's aria "Now shines the brightest glory of heaven" re?views the achievements of the sixth day, and creates a feeling of majesty and promise that ends in God's noblest creation--"man in His own image" sung by Uriel, who continues in an aria "In nature worth and honor clad" to describe him "toward heaven raised uprightly stands a man . . . the Lord and King of nature all." In a final chorus "Achieved is the glorious work" the music reaches its greatest intensification and power. A double fugue brings Part II to an end with typical Handelian simplicity and grandeur.
Part in is a postlude--a glimpse into Paradise before the fall. Three flutes supported at times by pizzicato strings depict the dawn of the seventh and last day--Introduction, Morning. "In rosy mantle bright awaked by sweetest tones" sung by Uriel, leads to an extended duet between Adam and Eve. They praise the Lord alternately, in solos and duets, separated by a chorus of angels which again thanks a "bounteous Lord" who "called forth the wondrous frame," and brings the work in this performance to its close.
The following text is derived from editions by G. Schirmer, Inc., and the Shaw-Parker translation published by Lawson-Gould, Inc., New York.
Introduction--Representation of Chaos
Recitative (Raphael)
In the beginning God made heaven and earth;
And the earth was without form, and void;
And darkness was upon the face of the deep.
And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.
And God said: Let there be light, and there was light.
Recitative (Uriel)
And God saw the light, that it was good;
And God divided the light from the darkness.
Air (Uriel)
Now vanish'd by the Holy beams
The ancient, ghostly, shuddering blackness.
The first of days appears.
Confusion yields, and order shines most fair.
Aghast, the fields of hell confounded fly,
Down they sink in the deep abyss to endless night.
Despairing, cursing rage attends their rapid fall.
A new-created world springs up at God's command.
Recitative (Raphael)
And God made the firmament, and divided the
waters which were under the firmament,
From the waters which were above the firmament: and it was so. Then howling raged the blast of the tempest, The clouds then were driven like chaff in the wind, The lightnings slashed the heavens asunder, And crashing thunder resounded on high. From waters rose at His command the all-refreshing rain, The devastating hail, the light and flaky snow. Solo (Gabriel and Chorus)
The marv'lous work behold amaz'd the glorious hierarchy of heaven; And to th'ethereal vaults resound the praise of God, And of the second day. Recitative (Raphael) And God said: Let the waters under the heaven be gathered together
to one place, and let the dry land appear: and it was so. And God called the dry land earth, and the gathering of waters called He the seas: And God saw that it was good.
Air (Raphael)
Rolling in foaming billows
Tumultuous swells the raging sea.
Highland and headland uplifted, through clouds
their tow'ring summits rise. Through broad and ample plains full flows
the gath'ring stream and winding wanders.
Lightly murm'ring, gently glides through silent glade the crystal brook.
Recitative (Gabriel)
And God said: Let all the earth bring forth grass,
the herb yielding seed, and the fruit-tree yielding
fruit after his kind, whose seed is in itself,
upon the earth: And it was so.
Air (Gabriel)
Now rob'd in cool refreshing green,
The fields their new enchantment wear.
And more to charm the sight
Arise the flow'rs in bright array.
Here herbs of ev'ry leaf abound,
Here dwells a healing grace.
The burden'd boughs their golden fruit afford;
Here arbors spread their vaulted restful shade,
And lofty hills are crown'd with kingly groves.
Recitative (Uriel)
And the heavenly host proclaimed the third day, praising God, and saying:
Awake the harp, the lyre awake. And let your joyful song resound. Rejoice in the Lord, the mighty God; For He both heaven and earth Has clothed in stately dress.
Recitative (Uriel)
And God said: Let there be lights in the firmament of heav'n, To divide the day from the night, to give light upon the earth; And let them be for signs, and for seasons, and for days,
and for years. He made the stars also.
Recitative (Uriel)
In shining splendor radiant now the sun bestrides the sky;
A wondrous, joyful bridegroom,
A giant proud and glad,
He runs his order'd course.
With softer beams and wistful shimmer,
Steals the moon through still silent night.
The boundless vaults of heav'ns domain shine with unnumber'd
magnitude of stars.
And the sons of God rejoic'd in the fourth day in chorus divine, Praising God's great might, and saying:
Chorus with Trio
The heavens are telling the glory of God,
With wonders of His work, resounds the firmament;
Reveal'd are His ways by day unto day,
By night that is gone, to following night.
In ev'ry land is known the word,
Ev'ry ear will hearken, never tongue be dumb.
Recitative (Gabriel)
And God said: Let the waters bring forth abundantly
every moving creature that hath life, And fowl that fly above the earth in the open
firmament of heaven Air (Gabriel)
On mighty wings now circling soars the eagle proud, And cleaves the air with swift exulting flight to greet the sun. At morn the lark his cheerful welcome sings; Adoring, coos the tender turtle dove. From ev'ry bush and grove pours now the nightingale
her sweetest carol; No grief has ruffled yet her breast,
Nor yet to sorrow has been tun'd her charming rondelay. Recitative (Raphael) And God created great whales and every living
creature that moveth; and God blessed them, saying: Be fruitful all, and multiply, ye creatures of the sky, Be multiplied, and fill the air with singing; Multiply, ye creatures of the waters, and fill each wat'ry deep; Be fruitful, grow, and multiply; Rejoice in the Lord your God! Recitative (Raphael) And the angels struck their immortal harps, and sang
the wonders of the fifth day. Terzetto (Gabriel)
In fairest raiment now, with virgin green adorn'd, The rolling hills appear.
From deep and secret springs, in fleeting crystal flow, The cooling brook doth pour. (Uriel)
In joyful garlands bome on wheeling tides of air, Upwings the feather'd host.
The myriad feathers' gleam reflect in shimm'ring flight The golden sun's pure light. (Raphael)
From sparkling waters leap the fish, And twisting flash in ceaseless motion round.
From deepest ocean home waltzes up leviathan in foaming waves to play. (Gabriel, Uriel, Raphael) How many are Thy works, O God! Who may their number tell Trio and Chorus
The Lord is Great, and great His might, His glory lasts for ever and for evermore.
Recitative (Raphael)
And God said: Let earth bring forth every living creature after
his kind, cattle, and creeping things, and beasts of the earth
after his kind.
Recitative (Raphael)
Straight opening her fertile womb,
The earth brings forth at God's command unnumber'd living creatures,
In perfect forms and fully grown.
Triumphant, roaring, stands the lion there.
With a lightning leap, the tiger appears.
Bounding with branching head, the nimble stag.
With snorting and stamping, flying mane, uprears in might the noble steed.
In pleasant pastures, quietly the cattle graze on meadows green.
And o'er the ground as growing there abide the fleecy, gentle sheep.
As clouds of dust arise, in swarms assembl'd the host of insects.
In long dimension, creeps, with sinuous trace, the worm.
Air (Raphael)
Now shines the brightest glory of heaven ;
Now spreads the lavish attire of earth.
The air is filled with soaring processions,
The water swell'd by swarming legions;
The ground is trod by pond'rous beasts.
But all the work was not complete; there wanted yet that wond'rous being,
That God's design might thankful see,
And grant his goodness joyful praise.
Recitative (Uriel)
And God created man in His own image, In the image of God created He him; Male and female created He them. And God breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, And man became a living soul.
Air (Uriel)
In native worth and honor clad, with beauty, courage and strength adorn'd, Toward heaven raised uprightly, stands a man, the Lord and King of
nature all.
His broad and arching noble brow proclaims of wisdom's deep abode, And in his eyes with brightness, shines the soul, the breath and
image of his God. With fondness leans upon his breast the partner
for him form'd.
A woman, fair and graceful spouse, Her softly smiling virgin looks of flow'ry spring
the mirror, She loves him, yields her joy and bliss.
Recitative (Raphael)
And God saw ev'rything that He had made.
And behold, it was very good,
And the heavenly choir loud rejoicing raised their song of praise,
And hailed the sixth day.
i, norus
Achieved is the glorious work; Our song let be the praise of God. Glory to His name for ever. He sole on high exhalted reigns. Hallelujah!
Introduction. Morning.
Recitative (Uriel)
In rosy mantle, bright awak'd by sweetest tones,
The morning young and fair.
From heaven's vaulted realm streams purest harmony to earth below.
Behold the happy pair as hand in hand they go:
As from their eyes radiant shines the thanks they owe.
Full soon their tongues shall tell the louder praise of God:
Let then our voices ring united with their song!
Duet (Adam and Eve):
By thee with grace, O bounteous Lord,
Are earth and heaven stor'd.
This world, so great, so wonderful,
Thy mighty hand has fram'd.
Oh, blessed be His holy might,
His praise we sing eternally.
Thou star of morning, Oh, how fair thy tidings of the day;
What radiance rare, O sun, is thine, thou eye and soul of all.
Proclaim, in your extended course,
Your Maker's pow'r and glory bright!
And thou, the tender queen of night, and all ye starry host.
Proclaim in ev'ry land, proclaim His praise in heaven's harmonies!
Ye mighty elements, by His pow'r your endless changes make;
Ye misty vapors, which the wind doth spin and roll thro heav'n.
Oh sing the praise of God the Lord!
Great is His name, and great is His Might.
Soft flowing fountains, tune His praise, and trees adoring bow;
Ye fragrant plants, ye flowers fair, with sweetness fill the air!
Ye that on highest mountains climb; and ye that lowly creep,
Ye whose flight doth cleave the skies; and ye that swim the deep.
Duet and Chorus
Ye creatures of our God and King!
Praise Him, all ye breathing life!
(Eve and Adam)
Ye shadow'd woods, ye hills and vales,
Your thanks with ours unite, and echo loud from morn to eve
Our joyful hymn of praise.
Hail! bounteous Lord! Almighty, hail! Thy word call'd forth this wondrous frame, The heavens and earth Thy power adore; We praise Thee now and evermore.
Sunday Evening, May 12
Transcribed for orchestra by Lucien Cailliet.
Dietrich Buxtehude was born in Helsingborg, Denmark, in 1637; died in Liibeck, Germany, May 9, 1707.
One whose genius was touched by the poetic fires that lit Bach's own.
--Charles Santord Terry
The name of Dietrich Buxtehude is practically unknown to concert audiences today. In his era, however, his widespread reputation as a composer was ex?ceeded only by his fame as one of Europe's greatest performers on the organ. Danish by birth, he ultimately settled in 1668 in Lubeck, Germany, having obtained there a most coveted and remunerative position as organist at the Mariankirke (St. Mary's Church). Here, in 1673, in connection with the church services, he instigated a series of evening performances of sacred and secular music for a chorus and orchestra known as the Abendmusiken. He not only prepared and conducted these concerts but also frequently appeared as organ soloist. Buxtehude's fame spread quickly throughout Europe and drew to Lubeck many musical pilgrims, scholars, and creative talents. In 1703 young Georg Friederich Handel traveled from Hamburg to pay his respects, and Johann Sebastian Bach, in October, 1705, with a one month leave of absence, left his position as organist in Arnstadt to make a similar pilgrimage of homage to the most eminent performer of his time. He extended his leave of absence three months and no doubt studied with the master.
Much of Buxtehude's music has been lost, but other instrumental works besides those for organ, including sonatas for strings, clavier suites, chamber music, etc., reveal that his music often crossed the border line between sacred and secular expression. Of the art of Buxtehude, Romain Rolland has written:
When writing for a concert public and not for religious service, he felt the need of making his music of a kind which would appeal to everyone . . . Buxtehude sought nothing but clear, pleasing and striking designs and even aimed at descriptive music. He willingly sacrificed himself by intensifying his expression and what he lost in abundance he gained in power. . . . The neatness of his beautiful, melodic designs and the repetition of phrases which sink down into the heart, are all essentially Handelian traits. No less is the magnificent triumph of the ensembles, and his manner of painting in bold masses of light and shade.
The passacaglia was a form popular with seventeenthand early eighteenth-century composers. It was originally a slow dance of three beats to the measure based on a brief phrase persistently recurring in the bass {basso ostinato).
Romain Rolland, Handel, trans, by A. Eaglcfield Hull (New York: Henry Holt & Co., 1916), p. 30. t Brahm's Variations on a Theme by Haydn, played on the third program of this May Festival, ends with a passacaglia.
In Buxtehude's Passacaglio there are twenty-eight variations (7 in D minor; 7 in F major; 7 in A minor; 7 in B minor) built upon a four-measure phrase in 32 time.
Symphony No. 35 in D major
("Haffner"), K. 385...........Mozart
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was born in Salzburg, January 27, 17S6; died in Vienna, December 5, 1791.
In its diversity and scope the music of Mozart is one of the most astonishing achievements in the history of European art. Wherever he directed his pen, to the creation of opera, serious or comic, to cantata, Mass, chamber music, sonata, or symphony, he left imperishable masterpieces. In more than six hun?dred works, created at a breathless speed during less than thirty years, Mozart revealed a universality unknown to any other composer, for his art was founded upon a thorough assimilation and sublimation of the prevailing Italian, French, and German styles of his period; he carried to perfection all instrumental and vocal forms of his day. No composer ever revealed simultaneously such creative affluence and such unerring instinct for beauty. Few artists in any age have been so copious and yet so controlled, or have so consistently sustained through?out their creative lives such a high level of artistic excellence.
In the early months of 1782, while working on the instrumental parts of Die Entfiihrung aus dent Serail and composing the Serenade in C minor for Wind Octet (K. 388), Mozart was also attempting to gain the consent of his adamant father to his marriage with Constance Weber. As usual he was in dire need of money and was beset by worry over the sudden general confusion of his life. While in this troubled state of mind he received a letter from his father telling him that "a well-to-do and excellent and patriotic man," Sigmund Haffner, who "deserved well of Salzburg by reason of his large bequests," desired some "more festal strains."
"I have certainly enough to do," he answered his father (July 20, 1782), "for by Sunday a week my opera must be arranged for wind instruments or else some one will get the start of me, and reap the profits! And now I have to write a new work! I hardly see how it will be possible. . . . You shall certainly receive something every post-day, and I will work as rapidly as I can, and as well as I can, compatibly with such speed." He hurriedly arranged a serenade and sent off the first movement.
The next week he wrote again, "You will make a wry face when you receive only the first allegro; but it could not be helped, for I was called on in such great haste. ... On Wednesday, the 31st, I will send you the two minuets, the andante, and the last movements. If I can, I will send a march also." The march followed a week later on August 7 when he was a bridegroom of only three days.
Mozart had previously written (in 1776) the Haffner Serenade in G major, K. 250, and a march (or the wedding of Haffner's daughter, Elizabeth.
As originally planned, the music was to take the form of a suite, including two minuets, an andante, a march, and a finale. Unable to complete the work as designed, Mozart, two years later, revised it for performance in Vienna on March 23, 1783, by omitting the march and one minuet. He further enriched the orchestration by adding flutes and clarinets.
Mozart had so forgotten the contents that when his father, at his son's re?quest, sent the manuscript back to him in February, 1783, he wrote casually, "The new 'Haffner' Symphony has quite astonished me, for I did not remember a note of it. It must be very effective." It was, indeed, for it charmed the Vienna audience who demanded its repetition. In spite of the fact that some consider it to be an amphibious work that bears too many marks of its origin as merely party music to justify its inclusion among Mozart's major symphonies, it has justly won and retained a position of unrivalled popularity.
The first movement is all brilliance and gaiety, with a vigorous and buoyant principal theme announced in the full orchestra and later ingeniously developed. The recapitulation section is contrapuntally treated, with trills and rushing passages and with emphatic chords sustaining the energetic mood to the end of the movement. He remarked to his father that the movement should "strike real fire."
The first theme of the second movement is announced in the violin. It is a warm, vibrant melody. Mounting into the upper regions the theme takes on an airy grace and loveliness. After a repetition a solemn but not gloomy inter?lude provides a deviation, after which the opening section returns with enough modification of the thematic line and form to gain interest.
The third movement is in the traditional minuet style with a stately and dig?nified melody that possesses a soft, lustrous brilliance. There is a restatement of this section after an intimate and tender trio section.
The fourth movement is a glittering and exquisitely designed web of sound, elaborate and delicate in its ornamentation. The section is built upon two themes--the first, beginning softly in the strings, is repeated with slight altera?tion. The second subject, at first restrained, grows in vigor as it proceeds. In a letter to his father, Mozart designated that this movement must be played as fast as possible, but without loss of clarity or detail.
Concerto No. 10 in E-flat major for Two Pianos and
Orchestra, K. 365............Mozart
With the piano concerto Mozart reached the pinnacle of his instrumental writing in the orchestral medium. It engaged his interest from earliest youth (at the age of 9 he converted three sonatas of Johann Christian Bach into con?certos, K. 107) to the end of his life and ultimately became his most char?acteristic creation. As in the case of every other musical form he touched, he brought the concerto to a state of perfection. "It was in the piano concerto," wrote Einstein, "that Mozart said the last word in respect to the fusion of the concertante and symphonic elements--a fusion resulting in a higher unity be-
yond which no progress was possible, because perfection is imperfectable." It was, in fact, in Mozart's piano concertos, not in Beethoven's, as is often believed, that the emancipation of the orchestra was finally and completely accomplished, and the ideal balance between solo instrument and orchestral body was realized.
The very early works from the year 1767 (K. 37, 39, 40, 41) were merely arrangements from sonatas by other composers (Raupach, Honauer, Schobert, Eckhardt, and C. P. E. Bach). It was not until the end of 1773, when he was seventeen years of age, that he composed his first original piano concerto (K. 175 in D major). In the so-called "Salzburg group" (K. 175, 238, 242 for three pianos, 246, 271, 365), that ranged from 1773 to 1780 and from which the work on tonight's program comes, he followed with a few exceptions the modest and graceful tradition of the rococo style but indicated that he was already aware of the artistic problems presented in the contending elements of the solo instrument and the orchestra.
The term concertante was one of several eighteenth-century terms used to designate pieces in which several solo instruments participated after the man?ner of their forerunner, the earlier concerto grosso of Corelli and his imitators. Alfred Einstein describes the concertante more colorfully than any musical dictionary:
When to the competition of two or more instruments, the orchestra is added as another participant in the dazzling tournament--a participant that usually opens the occasion and retires, leaving the center of attention to the combatants, mostly accom?panying or commenting upon their activities, and returning to the foreground only when they are tired and must rest a little--we are squarely in the concertante domain.t
According to Einstein, "The purest examples of the concertante style are to be found in Mozart's works for piano, four hands or for two pianos--all intended for two partners of equal importance.":!: Later in his career he departed from this manner of composition more and more, or perhaps it is more to the point to say with Einstein that "he separated its ingredients, developing the symphonic elements in ever purer form in the orchestral symphony, and the concertante elements in the concerto for solo instruments.? In the lively figuration, animated imitation found in the Concerto for Two Pianos, K. 365 on tonight's program, we have a perfect example of Mozart in a stage of transition to the monumental series of concertos written in Vienna after 1781. where he brought the form to a point of perfection that has seldom been equaled and never surpassed. It was composed in Salzburg early in 1779 when he was twenty-three years of age, with the intention that it was to be performed by himself and his gifted sister, Maria Anna ("Nannerl"). It was not played publicly, however, until November 23, 1781, in Vienna. At this time one Josephine Aurnhammer of whom Mozart wrote, "The lady is a fright--she is as
Alfred Einstein, Mozart, His Character and His Work (New York: Oiford University Press, 1945), p. 288.
t Ibid., p. 273. t Ibid., p. 270. 5 Ibid., p. 274.
fat as a farm wench--but she plays enchantingly," joined him in the perform?ance. "In general," writes Einstein, "the concerto is a work of happiness, gaity, overflowing richness of invention and joy in itself, and this is evidence of how little the secret of creative activity has to do with personal experience, for it was written just after the bitterest disappointments of Mozart's life." Einstein here refers to the attendant facts surrounding the creation of this work.
On September 23, 1777, Mozart departed from Salzburg with his mother on a grand tour to Mannheim and Paris, hoping to gain fame and permanent em?ployment. From the moment he arrived in Paris on March 27, 1778, to the time of his return in January, 1779, his life was filled with anguish and frustra?tion. He experienced a series of degrading failures in his attempt to find an appropriate position worthy of his talents; he was lost in intrigues and court politics, exploited yet unrewarded; and he was desperately in love with Aloysia Weber (sister of Constanze whom he later married) whose indifference plunged him into deep depression. His mother died suddenly and had to be buried on foreign soil. On his way home from Paris, he met Aloysia Weber in Munich and she made it unmistakably clear that her interest in him was at an end. He re?turned to Salzburg a broken man. Whatever personal emotions of grief and anguish Mozart experienced under these tragic conditions, they never found expression in his music. Here they were transformed into significant forms of beauty that have brought joy and delight to generations.
In this melodious and gay concerto there is no intention of making the two instruments independent. The players emulate each other in the delivery of melodic passages, together or in succession. Sometimes they are merely repeated, sometimes varied, but all equally distributed. Throughout, the contrast between the two solo instruments is very clear. Mozart reached an absolute height, not only in dealing with contrasts generated by two instruments of equal timbre, but between the two solo instruments and those of the orchestra, in true concertante style. Whether in the "mechanical gaity" of the first movement {Allegro); in the quiet beauty of the second {Andante) with its extended cantilena; or in the onward rush of merriment in the last {Rondo, allegro), where the orchestra as?sumes a position of major importance without giving up its concertante func?tion, all is clear, precise, logical, and eternally refreshing.
Concerto No. 4 in G major, Op. 58
for Piano and Orchestra.........Beethoven
Ludwig van Beethoven was born in Bonn, Decem?ber 16, 1770; died in Vienna, March 26, 1827.
Beethoven always approached a new form with caution, leaning heavily at first upon traditions established by his predecessors Haydn and Mozart. What?ever the form--the symphony, the sonata, the quartet, or the concerto--he entered the untried field with deliberation. Once he found himself the master
Ibid., p. 296.
he subjected the form to merciless scrutiny and went about deliberately to free it from the fetters of the past that were binding it.
His piano compositions were always in the vanguard of his maturing style. Whenever the piano was the medium he showed greater originality and freedom from the restrictions of tradition. Prior to the year 1800 he had composed eleven piano sonatas, among them the "Pathetique" (C minor, Op. 13), a cornerstone for nineteenth-century romantic piano music. Isolated movements from the others began to show feverish exploration such as that detected in the slow movement of Op. 10, No. 3, one of the most powerful utterances to be found in his early music.
Beethoven's first three piano concertos came from the same period (1795-1800), although the third showed considerable advance over the first two rather conservative ones, disclosing a more conscious liberation of creative energy. It was the most mature and highly developed of all the compositions which Beethoven had brought to fruition in the first year of the new century. In the grandeur of its conception the third piano concerto is an imposing landmark on the way to the epoch-making "Eroica" symphony composed four years later, again proving that through the medium of the piano Beethoven first released the vast innovation force that was to recondition every musical form he touched.
About five years elapsed between the writing of the third and fourth con?certos, the latter being composed for the most part and completed in 1806. During this period Beethoven was pursued by disaster, disappointments, and sorrows of all kinds brought about by the full realization of the seriousness of his increasing deafness and the collapse of the high hopes he had for his opera Fidelio. In a letter to Wengeler dated November 16, 1801, he had written, "I will as far as possible defy my fate, though there must be moments when I shall be the most miserable of God's creatures--I will grapple with Fate, it shall never drag me down."
There are few more potent examples of an artist's defense against his fate or escape from personal grief and tragic circumstances than those that are to be found in the fourth piano concerto, the first Rasoumowsky quartet, the fourth symphony, and the violin concerto which came from his pen during this time. In their exuberance and lighthearted charm, Beethoven lost himself in a world of his own making, a world of adolescent happiness and fairy-tale atmosphere.
The fourth concerto was dedicated to the Archduke Rudolph of Austria, Beethoven's pupil, friend, and patron,f and was published in August, 1808. It had its initial performance at one of the two subscription concerts devoted en?tirely to Beethoven's works, given at the home of Prince Lobkowitz in Vienna, in March, 1807. In addition to the new concerto, the fourth symphony and the "Coriolanus" overture were also presented for the first time. The first public performance took place at the Theater an der Wien, Vienna, December 22,
Grove's Dictionary of Music and Musicians (3d ed., New York: The Macmillan Company, 1935), I, 280.
t The Fifth Symphony, the Mass in C, a number of chamber works (Archduke Trio No. 6 in B-flat major, Op. 97) were also dedicated to him.
1808, with Beethoven as soloist. At this concert also the fifth and sixth (Pastoral) symphonies had their premiere performances.
For many years the fourth concerto was neglected, overshadowed by the overwhelming popularity of the great one in E-flat major known as the "Em?peror." It was Mendelssohn who saved it from possible oblivion when he re?vived it at a Gewandhaus concert at Leipzig in 1836. At the time, Robert Schumann wrote, "I have received a pleasure from it such as I have never enjoyed and I sat in my place without moving a muscle or even breathing, afraid of making the least noise."
The fourth concerto marks an innovation in the long evolution of the form, from a mere show piece with a servile orchestral accompaniment to a full eman?cipation of the orchestra, such as one finds in those of Schumann and Brahms.
The first movement {allegro moderato, G major, 44) begins with the an?nouncement of the principal theme in the piano. By giving the initial statement to the solo instrument instead of the orchestra Beethoven helped to free the concerto from one of its most traditional bonds.f It is a brief statement of only four measures after an introductory chord, but none the less daring for its brev?ity. With the entrance of the orchestra the treatment becomes orthodox, pre?senting the conventional exposition of contrasting themes.
The second movement {andante con moto, E minor, 24) is compared by Liszt to Orpheus taming the wild beasts with his music. He refers obviously to the contrasts between the forbidding, strongly rhythmic recurring figure in the strings and the tender, wistful melody in the piano. The movement is very free in its construction, aiming chiefly at expressiveness. Described by Sir George Grove, it "is one of the most original and imaginative things that ever fell from the pen of Beethoven, or any other musician. The strings of the orchestra alone are employed, but they maintain throughout a dialogue with the piano in alternate phrases of the most dramatic character--the orchestra in octaves forte and staccato, fierce and rude; the piano employing but one string molto cantabile, molto espressivo, as winning, soft, beseeching as ever was human voice."$
The third movement {rondo: vivace, G major, 24), following the preceding movement without pause, opens with a lively theme announced immediately in the strings, pianissimo, answered by the piano in a florid variation. After a short melodic phrase, first heard in the strings and taken up by the piano, and a bold digressing section in the orchestra, the second theme of the movement is stated in the piano. This "round" of returning themes is brilliantly developed in a "reckless, devil-may-care spirit of jollity" to a coda of enormous propor?tions, and the movement ends on an exciting increase of tempo.
Groves, op. cit., p. 306.
t This, although considered an innovation at the time, had been done by Mozart in an earlier concerto.
t Groves, op. cit.
THE PHILADELPHIA ORCHESTRA is performing the six concerts of the 1963 May Festival for the twenty-eighth consecutive year. Organized in 1900 under Fritz Scheel, it followed for a dozen years under the strong leadership of Carl Pohlig, who was succeeded by the strikingly effective Leopold Stokowski. In 1940 Eugene Ormandy became the fourth Musical Director. No other orchestra has traveled so far (12,500 miles in an average season) or so often as the Philadelphia group, which has made history through its touring. In 1936 it made its first of six transcontinental tours; in 1949 the orchestra toured the British Isles in its first foreign pilgrimage; and in 1955 it made its first continental Euro?pean tour. In addition to the special tours, each season it plays regular schedules in New York, Baltimore, Washington, and other Eastern cities. The fame of the orchestra has further spread through its recordings. Since its first sessions at Camden in 1917, recordings have been an integral part of its activities. The Philadelphia Orchestra has recorded exclusively for Columbia Records since 1943 and now has a larger recorded repertoire than any other orchestra. Through its more than two million miles of travel and its untold number of records sold, it has certainly earned the title of the world's best-known orchestra.
EUGENE ORMANDY, Musical Director of the Philadelphia Orchestra, began his prominent conducting career with sudden impetus in 1931 when he substituted for Toscanini, conducting the Philadelphia Orchestra. On that oc?casion a representative of the Minneapolis Symphony Orchestra who was in the audience immediately signed Ormandy as guest conductor, which won for him the permanent post and where he continued until 1936. Ormandy's early musical training began at the age of five at the Royal Academy of Music in Budapest, Hungary. At nine he became the pupil of the great violinist Jeno Jubay, after whom he was named. He received his professor's diploma at seven?teen and was given degrees in violin playing, composing, and counterpoint. He concertized, then taught, at the State Conservatory in Budapest before coming to the United States to seek his fame and fortune. He has been praised and honored the world over, receiving several honorary degrees, one of which was presented to him by The University of Michigan at the May Festival of 1952.
WILLIAM SMITH is the Assistant Conductor of the Philadelphia Orchestra. He also serves as conductor of choirs and orchestra at the University of Penn?sylvania. He founded the Philadelphia Orchestra Chorus a few years ago. Born in New Jersey, Smith came to his present post in 1953. A versatile musician, he understudies Mr. Ormandy in preparation of all concerts, conducts reading
rehearsals of new works, assists in the preparation of all choral groups and vocal soloists, and is the official pianist and organist of the orchestra.
THOR JOHNSON, Guest Conductor of the May Festival, has conducted the University Choral Union performances with the Philadelphia Orchestra since 1940, except for four years when he was serving with the United States Army. Johnson lived most of his early life in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. He was graduated from the University of North Carolina and later received a master's degree in music at The University of Michigan. In 193S, under a Beebe Founda?tion Scholarship, he studied in Europe with conductors Weingartner, Abendroth, Malko, and Bruno Walter. Upon his return he became conductor of the Uni?versity Symphony Orchestra, organized and conducted the University Little Symphony which toured throughout the country, founded the Mozart Festival in Asheville, North Carolina, and also served as conductor of the Grand Rapids Symphony. During World War II, as Warrant Officer in the United States Army, Johnson conducted the first Army Symphony Band and taught for the Armed Services at Shrivenham, England. Upon discharge he conducted the Juilliard Orchestra for one year before accepting the directorship of the Cincinnati Sym?phony Orchestra, a position he held for eleven years. During that period he made special guest conductor appearances with the Symphony of the Air, including its Far Eastern tour. Since 1959 he has been head of orchestral activities at North?western University. As a member of the President's Advisory Committee on the Arts, he was sent to Iceland, Czechoslovakia, Korea, the Philippines, and Japan for guest conducting and surveys. He is also Director of the Peninsula Music Festival in Wisconsin, the Moravian Music Festivals, and the Chicago Little Symphony.
LESTER McCOY, Conductor of the University Choral Union since 1947, prepares the chorus in the works performed in the May Festival and each Advent season conducts the Choral Union, the University Symphony Orchestra, and guest solo artists in the traditional Messiah concerts. He received his Master of Music degree from The University of Michigan in 1938. Before com?ing to Ann Arbor he trained and taught at Momingside College in Sioux City, Iowa. He serves as Minister of Music of the First Methodist Church in Ann Arbor, and for the past five years has conducted the Michigan Chorale, a group of Michigan high school seniors, which has toured in Europe and South America during the summer as part of the Youth for Understanding Student Exchange Program, sponsored by the Washtenaw Council of Churches.
ISAAC STERN, violinist, was born July 21, 1920, in Kriminiesz, Russia. His parents brought him to San Francisco when he was less than one year old. At six he began studying the piano, but two years later he changed to violin. At fifteen he made his local debut and guest performances with the San Fran?cisco Symphony, under Pierre Monteux' direction, followed by appearances
with the Los Angeles, Portland, Seattle, Minneapolis, and Chicago orchestras. His New York debut in 1937 launched a career that has since been a steady rise to fame. Now for twenty years he has been concertizing throughout the world. Among Mr. Stern's extensive list of Columbia recordings are several all-time best sellers. With his wife Vera, daughter Shira, and son Michael, he makes his home, when not concertizing, in an apartment overlooking Manhat?tan. He has performed in Ann Arbor previously on three occasions, most re?cently in recital in November of 1958.
RUDOLF SERKIN, pianist, is making his tenth visit to Ann Arbor with this Festival appearance. An American citizen, he was born of Russian parents in 1903 in Eger, Bohemia (now Czechoslovakia). He was educated in Vienna, where at the age of twelve he made his debut with the Vienna Symphony. His serious professional career began in Berlin a few years later under the guidance of the late famous violinist, Adolf Busch, whose only daughter, Irene, Serkin married in 1935. The family moved to Switzerland in 1927 and then to America in 1939. Mr. Serkin first performed in the United States in 1933 at the Coolidge Festival in Washington, D.C., before an invited audience. His very significant public debut came in 1936 with the New York Philharmonic under Toscanini. Today, with their five children, the Serkins make their home in Philadelphia. Mr. Serkin is not only an inspired performer but also an inspiring teacher, leading the Curtis Institute Piano Department and, during the summer, the Marlboro School of Music and Festival.
PETER SERKIN, pianist, who joins in performance with his famous father on the closing program of this Festival, was born in New York on July 24, 1947, and grew up in Guilford, Vermont, receiving his first piano instruction from Blanche Honneger Moyse and LuisBatlle. He entered the Curtis Institute of Music in 1958, studying under Lee Luvisi and later with his father, Rudolf Serkin. He made his debut at the age of 10, when he played at the Marlboro (Vermont) Music Festival, which is headed by his father. He has since per?formed repeated engagements there and in recent years has given recitals, performed in chamber works, and has played with symphony orchestras, in?cluding the Philadelphia and Cleveland orchestras, and, during last summer, with orchestras in Brussels, Paris, and Montreal. His performance at this May Festival marks his first appearance in Ann Arbor.
GRANT JOHANNESEN, born in Salt Lake City of Norwegian parents, re?ceived his early training there. Later he studied in France with Robert Casadesus and Nadia Boulanger and then with Egon Petri. He has been soloist with practically every major orchestra in the United States and Europe, and his numerous concert tours have taken him throughout America, Europe, Australia, the Far East, and South America. Mr. Johannesen is also familiar to American audiences by his many television and radio appearances, and dis-
criminating record collectors know his performances on the labels of Capital and His Master's Voice. When Johannesen is free from concert commitments, he pursues his hobbies of musical manuscripts and antique art, with an avid interest in the international theater. He first performed in Ann Arbor in May of 1955, making this his second appearance at the Ann Arbor May Festival. This appearance follows immediately his triumphant spring concert tour through Russia.
E. POWER BIGGS, organist, was born in England but has long been an American citizen, residing in Cambridge, Massachusetts. He was graduated from the Royal Academy of Music in London. He is noted not only as a per?former but as an eminent scholar, conducting extensive research in European and early American music for the organ and performing on famous and historic organs, documenting their sounds on recordings. Mr. Biggs has played organ recitals and has appeared as soloist with leading orchestras in almost all the great cities in America and throughout Europe, from far north Iceland to southern Spain. This is his first appearance in Ann Arbor.
ADELE ADDISON, noted American soprano, grew up in Springfield, Massa?chusetts. After leaving high school she attended the Westminster Choir College. At graduation she won a coveted scholarship to the Berkshire Music Center at Tanglewood where she studied with Boris Goldovsky. In 1952, following her studies with the eminent voice teacher, Povla Frijsh, at the Juilliard School of Music, Adele Addison made her New York recital debut at Town Hall. Miss Addison is well known across the country for her many solo recitals, recordings, television appearances, including Omnibus, and her sound-track performance in the motion picture Porgy and Bess. A favorite with conductors, she has sung with most of the major symphonies throughout the country. For several seasons Miss Addison has been leading soprano in the New York City Opera Company and excels in her performances with many prominent oratorio societies of Amer?ica. In March of this year Miss Addison performed in the Soviet Union under the Cultural Exchange Program and paused en route to give concerts in France. This is Adele Addison's third appearance in Ann Arbor.
JOHN McCOLLUM, American tenor, was born and educated in California where by 1950 he was well established as a newspaperman when he decided to change to a singing career. His concert tours have taken him to practically every state in the Union, including Alaska, where he performed with the Rob?ert Shaw Chorale. Mr. McCollum annually sings a full quota of recitals from coast to coast and has been re-engaged repeatedly with many of the major or?chestras and musical festivals. He has scored with leading opera auspices, in?cluding the New England Opera Theatre, Washington Opera Society, Goldovsky Opera Theatre, Colorado's Central City Opera, among others. He excels also in oratorio and has been featured soloist with the New York Oratorio Society, Boston Handel and Haydn Society, Schola Cantorum, and the New York
Concert Choir. This fall, Mr. McCollum joined the faculty of the School of Music of The University of Michigan. This will be his second appearance at the Ann Arbor May Festival.
DONALD BELL, bass-baritone, comes from Canada. His musical education took place at London's Royal College of Music and in Germany in the studios of Carl Ebert and Herman Weisenbom. In spite of his youth, he has accom?plished a distinguished record of singing on both continents of America and Europe. He began this season with an auspicious appearance in the televised inaugural Lincoln Center's new Philharmonic Hall, performing the choral works under Leonard Bernstein's direction. He has also appeared under such renowned conductors as Sir Thomas Beecham, Josef Krips, Eugene Ormandy, Sir Malcolm Sargent, Thomas Schippers, Sir William Walton, Otto Klemperer, and George Szell. He not only has distinguished himself as an oratorio singer of excellence, but also as a superb recitalist. His operatic debut took place at the Bayreuth Festival in 1958. Mr. Bell comes to Ann Arbor for his May Festival debut directly from European engagements.
EDWIN G. BURROWS, narrator in the choral premiere Friday evening, has been associated with the University of Michigan Broadcasting Service since 1948 and is at present the manager of the two University FM stations. His voice is frequently heard on their programs. He holds two degrees, a Bachelor of Arts from Yale University and a Master of Arts from The University of Michigan, having concentrated his academic interests in English and American literature as well as drama and creative writing. He was a winner of the major Hopwood Award in poetry and has published a volume of original works. He has participated both as performer and director in local dramatic and concert presentations.
ANTHONY GIGLIOTTI, principal clarinetist, is a native Philadelphian who entered Curtis Institute to follow in the footsteps of his father, Joseph Gigliotti, a prominent clarinet teacher. During World War II he enlisted in the band Eugene Ormandy organized at the Philadelphia Navy Yard. Later this band was assigned to the USS Randolph, and Gigliotti spent a year and a half in the Pacific Theater. Returning to Curtis after service discharge, he graduated in 1946. Before joining the Philadelphia Orchestra in 1949 he played one season with the Ballet Russe de Monte Carlo and three seasons with Thomas Schermann's Little Orchestra Society of New York. He currently serves on the Curtis Institute faculty and plays in the Philadelphia Woodwind Quintet.
BERNARD GARFIELD, principal bassoonist, came to the Philadelphia Or?chestra a few seasons ago as first bassoonist, upon the retirement of veteran Sol Schoenbach. He is a graduate of Columbia University where he majored in composition. He also holds a degree in bassoon from the Royal College of Music
in London. He was first bassoonist with the Little Symphony of New York for nine years and first desk man with the New York City Ballet Orchestra for eight years, concurrent with the Little Symphony tenure. The director as well as bas?soonist of the New York Woodwind Quintet, he has appeared as soloist at the Aspen (Colorado) Music Festival. He is also a member of the Philadelphia Woodwind Quintet.
GILBERT JOHNSON, principal of the trumpet section, joined the Philadelphia Orchestra at the close of the 1957-58 season to accompany it on the extensive European tour. A native of California, he was educated at Hartford, Con?necticut, where he earned a Bachelor of Music degree from the Julius Hartt School of Music. He later enrolled at the Curtis Institute. Johnson began his professional career when he took the first trumpet position with the Ballet Russe Orchestra and later with the Boston Pops. After a tour of duty with the Armed Forces he served as solo trumpet with the New Orleans Philharmonic.
Thor Johnson, Guest Conductor
Lester McCoy, Conductor
Nicolo Sartori, Pianist
FIRST SOPRANOS Ackerman, Tamaxa L. Arentz, Joan Carol Baskerville, Inez M. Berg, Donna Lea Bird, Ellen Anne Bradstreet, Lola M. Burr, Virginia A. Carruth, Margo Dinneen, Kathryn E. Dorstcwitz, Ellen M. Eriksson, Sandra E. Garvelink, Carol J. Haefner, Barbara L. Hanson, Gladys M. Hardenbergh, Gretchen Harrington, Rachel I. Hawk, Gloria Lee Henes, Karen Kay Hook, Patricia M. Huber, Sally Anne Isbell, Melinda O. Jerome, Ruth O. Julien, Charlotte J. Jurgensen, Aase Knighton, Daphne M. Luecke, Doris L. McDonald, Ruth M. Nash, H. Carol Nauman, Marian C. Newcomb, Alice R. Pearson, Agnes I. Peck, Laurel E. Plekker, Judith E. Politis, Clara Ramee, Dorothy W. Ramee, Ellen K. Reichert, Judith W. Ribbens, Millicent C. Riegner, Elizabeth J. Robinson, Jane M. Rulfs, Mary Kathleen Sevilla, Josefina Z. Sommerfeld, Martha L. Stevens, Ethel C. Upham, Joan B. Walker, Lynn I. Waters, Deborah Ann Worthington, Ruth Ann Yoon, Soon Young S.
SECOND SOPRANOS Amrhein, Dorothy M. Baldwin, Wardea Baumgartner, Rosemary Brown, Susannah E. Curtis, Margaret L. Datsko, Doris Douglas. R. Marie Dumler, Carole H. Friedrich, Lynne Gibson, Brenda Hendrickson, Marianne Hinton, Linda Louise Hunter, Patricia Lee Hodges, Doris W. IafoUa, Hazel M. Jensen, Judyan Jones, Marion Anne Karapostoles, LaVaughan Knudson, Judy Kay Koykka, C. Karen Lamb Margaret Carol Landman, Marguerite J. Littell, Mary Helen Loyer, CarolTi Marie Lyman, Frances Jean McAdoo, Mary J. Niitme, Anne Ly Nobilette; Dorothy M. Noble, Donna Marie Oppenneer, Diane V. Oyer, Thelma Marie Papke, Bonnie Jean Peterson, Margaret A. Raus, Magdalene L. Reading, Melissa Scott, Elaine A. Sifi, Judy
Skimmin, Susan Alice Sleet, Audrey M. Smith, Barbara May Smith, Iva Alexine Smith, Nancy Lillian Sorensen, Carol A. Spoor, Lorelie Holly Urist, Barbara Diane VandenBout, Gretchen C. Vig, Jeanne Marie Vlisides, Elena C. Wolfe, Charlotte Ann
Ashby, Lynne Anne Babakian, Irene Bachman, Virginia A. Beam, Eleanor P. Breyfogle, Janet E. Buchele, Joan Bross Clements, Iris E. Eiteman, Sylvia C. Evans, Daisy E. Fletcher, Margaret A. Hahn, Christel Haney, Barbara Anne Hangas, Nancy D. Hodgman, Dorothy B. Hoffman, Jeannette D. Jones, Mary M. Kraut, Florence R. Kuick, Kay Angela Lane, Rosemarie Manson, Hinda Markeson Carole J. Marsh, Martha M. Marshall, Shelley L. McCoy, Bernice Mehler, Hallie J. Pearson, Bemadene Plewes, Nancy A. Ring, Betty L. Roscnbaum, Stephanie Royal, Betty Lou Rubinstein, Sallie Salisbury, Wilma R. Schwartz, Carla Rae Shelly, Barbara J. Smith, Marguerite M. Spurrier, Laura T. Swenson, Judith Ann Townsend, Mary E. Van Dreal, Janet D. Wakefield, Sarah R. Wargelin, Carol G. VVentworth, Elizabeth Westerman, Carol F. White, Arlene Ruth Wiedmann, Louise P. Yonkers, Mary B. Zeeb, Helen R.
SECOND ALTOS Allen, Jeannette D. Allen, Mary Lee Arnold, Helen M. Bacon, Meredyth E. Barber, Marjorie Sue Blake, Susan Jane Bodine, Nada Jane Bogart, Gertrude J. Brock, Thelma F. Bronson, Geraldine M. Cartwright, Patricia Clayton, Caroline S. Coggins, Ruth Ann Cramer, Kathleen J. Crossley, Winnifred M. Cummings, Ann Deming, Caren Joy Enkemann, Gladys C. Foster, Vera L. GoeU, E. Sue Haab, Mary E. Harris, H. Ann Irwin, Christine M. Johnson, Grayce E. Tohnston, Theolia C. Kero, Ruth Helen Knight, Mona J. Lidgard, Ruth M. Liebscher, Erika M. Lovelace, Elsie W. Luton, Jane Elizabeth Miller, Carol L. Miller, Rene S. Morrison, May Poland, Sydney Z. Reynolds, Judith L. Roeger, Beverly B. Schreiber Sharon Ann Slater, Beverly N. Stagner, Janet Faye Suess, Irene C. Way, Annette Westerman, Joan L. Williams, Nancy P. Williams, Winefred L.
FIRST TENORS Baker, Hugh E. Balius, Louis M. Batch, Nicholas C. Benoliel, Bernard J. Berlin. Lee P. Crandall, John E.
Greenberger, Allen J. Hendershott, Marcus D. Lowry, Paul T. Noble, Kenneth R. Ramee, Allan L. Sherburn, Earl F. Traer, James F. White, Lee James White, Melvin Alan
SECOND TENORS Aneff, James S. Bachman, Jerald G. Bassett, Benton Brown, Walter D. Carpenter, Gerald R. Clements, Peter J. Elledge, Robert M. Fidler, William F., Jr. Gaskell, Jerry T. Humphrey, Richard Kohl, Atlee M. Krawczyk, Victor R. Morpheu, Richard E. Pflieger, Ronald E. Preston, Marvin Raub, James Ray Rogers, Noyes W. Sain, Robert L. Seltzer, Lawrence F. Spooner, Thomas E. E. Wakefield, John E. Williams, Donald R. Wolfe, John Andrew
Anderson, Ronald D. Bartz, Gary Lynn Beam, Marion L. Brueger, John M. Burian, Peter. Hart Burr, Charles F. Clayton, Joseph F. Ferrell, Winifred D. Garner, Richard T. Hoffmann, Raymond E., Jr. Johns, Cort M. Kays, J. Warren Kinkel, John R. Kissel. Klair H. Leininger, Robert Liang, Alexander C. Loveless, Owen R. Mallen, Robert G.
McWilliams, Leslie G. Meader, Robert E. Morse, Alfred W. Pearson, John R. Pickut, Guenther Spearing, Darwin R. Swanson, Landen H. Tazelaar, Willem H. Thomas, Howard P. Threlkeld, Paul T. Toth, Kenneth E. Whitney, William H. Wilkins, David G.
SECOND BASSES Abdella, Victor M. Baker, George H. Barranger, John J. Barton, Ben F. Bednar, Walter H. Blackwell, Walter H. Ebert, David A. Eichenbaum, Daniel M. Evans, Michael B. Forbureer, Dean C. Harrison, Paul R. Hecht, Dwight W. Herold, Fred J. Herrmann, Lothar H-'ber, Franz E. Lanini, Kent P. Litow. Richard J. McAdoo, William P. Mead, Douglas A. Miki, Eiji Morrow, Donald Nauman, John D. Orr, Andrew W., Ill Parlette, Alan E. Patterson, Bobby L. Pellett, David E. Peterson, Robert R. Queen, Jimmie N. Salow, William R. Sauvain, Richard W. Seppanen, Cliff R. Sorensen, N. Pete Steinmetz, George P. Trembath, Richard D. Wall, Ralph J. Wallace, John W. Werner, Peter C. Williams, David G.
Eugene Ormandy, Music Director and Conductor William Smith, Assistant Conductor
Roger G. Hall, Manager Joseph H. Santarlasci, Assistant Manager
Brusilow, Anshel,
Concertmaster Madison, David,
Associate Concertmaster Shulik, Morris Reynolds, Veda Ruden, Sol Lusak, Owen Costanzo, Frank Saam, Frank E. Grunschlag, David Arben, David Simkins, Jasha Stahl, Jacob Goldstein, Ernest L. Simkin, Meyer Gesensway, Louis Steck, William Schmidt, Henry W. Rosen, Irvin Schwartz, Isadore Wigler, Jerome Di Camillo, Armand Eisenberg, Irwin I. Tung, Ling Sharlip, Benjamin Black, Norman Ludwig, Irving Dreyfus, George Roth, Manuel Miller, Charles S. Lanza, Joseph Gorodetzky, Aaron Light, Herbert Miller, Max
Cooley, Carlton Mogill, Leonard Braverman, Gabriel Ferguson, Paul Primavera, Joseph P., Jr. Iglitzin, Alan Kaplow, Maurice Curtiss, Sidney Bogdanoff, Leonard Granat, Wolfgang Greenberg, William S. Fawcett, James W.
VIOLONCELLOS Munroe, Lome HiJger, Elsa Gorodetzer, Harry de Pasquale, Francis Druian, Joseph Belenko, Samuel Brennand, Charles Saputelli, William Farago, Marcel Caserta, Santo Phillips, Bert Stokking, William, Jr.
BASSES Scott, Roeer M. Torello, Carl Arian, Edward Maresh. Ferdinand Eney, F. Gilbert Lazzaro, Vincent Batchelder, Wilfred Gorodetzer, Samuel Courtney, Neil
Panitz, Murray W. Scutt, Kenneth E. Terry, Kenton F. Krell, John C, Piccolo
de Lancie, John Raper, Wayne Morris, Charles M. Rosenblatt, Louis, English Horn
CLARINETS Gigliotti, Anthony M. Montanaro, Donald Serpentini, Jules J. Lester, Leon,-Bass Clarinet
SAXOPHONE Montanaro, Donald
BASSOONS Garfield, Bernard H. Shamlian, John Angelucci, A. L.
Pfeuffer, Robert J.,
Contra Bassoon HORNS
Jones, Mason
Hale, Leonard
Fearn, Ward O.
Mayer, Clarence
Lannutti, Charles
Pierson, Herbert TRUMPETS
Johnson, Gilbert
Krauss, Samuel
Rosenfeld, Seymour
Rehrig, Harold W.
Herine Siemund TROMBONES
Smith, Henry C. Ill
Stewart, M. Dee
Cole, Howard
Harper, Robert S., Bass Trombone TUBA
Torchinsky, Abe TIMPANI
Hinger, Fred D.
Bookspan, Michael BATTERY
Owen, Charles E.
Bookspan, Michael Abel, Alan
Roth, Manuel CELESTA, PIANO, AND ORGAN Smith, William
Costello, Marilyn
DeCray, Marcella LIBRARIAN
Barnes, Edward, Manager
HauDtle, Theodore E.
Siegel, Adrian
Henry Simmons Frieze, 1879-1881 and 1883-1889
Alexander Winchell, 1881-1883 and 1889-1891
Francis W. Kelsey, 1891-1927
Charles A. Sink (Executive Secretary, 1904-1927); 1927-
Calvin B. Cady, 1879-1888 Albert A. Stanley, 1888-1921 Earl V. Moore, 1922-1939
Thor Johnson, 1939-1942 Hardin Van Deursen, 1943-1947 Thor Johnson (Guest), 1947-Lester McCoy, Associate Conductor, 1947-1956; Conductor, 1956-
Ross Spence (Secretary), 1893-1896 Thomas C. Colburn (Secretary), 1897-1902 Charles K. Perrine (Secretary), 1903-1904
Charles A. Sink (Executive Secretary, 1904-1927); President, 1927-Gail W. Rector (Assistant to the President, 1945-1954); Executive Director, 1957-
THE UNIVERSITY MUSICAL SOCIETY, which this year observes its eighty-fourth season, was organized during the winter of 1879-80 and was incor?porated in 1881. Its purpose was to maintain a choral society and an orchestra, to provide public concerts, and to organize and maintain a school of music which would offer instruction comparable to that of the University in its schools and colleges. Ars longa vita brevis was adopted as its motto. In 1894, as a climax to its offerings, the "First Annual May Festival" was inaugurated. Gradually the number of concerts in the Choral Union Series was increased to ten, and the May Festival, from three to six concerts. In 1946, with the development of musical interest, a supplementary series of concerts was added-the Extra Concert Series. Handel's Messiah, which had been performed at in?tervals through the years, became an annual production and since 1946 has been heard in two performances each season. In 1941 an annual Chamber Music Festival of three concerts was inaugurated. Last fall the first Chamber Dance Festival was presented. Thus, at the time of its eighty-fourth year, the Musical Society has presented, throughout the season, thirty-five major concerts per?formed by distinguished artists and organizations.
THE UNIVERSITY CHORAL UNION was an outgrowth of a "Messiah Club," made up of singers from several local churches. For a decade and a half, assisted by distinguished professional artists and organizations, it partici?pated in numerous Choral Union concerts. In addition to its Messiah concerts, since 1894, it has performed at the annual May Festivals, offering a wide range of choral literature over the years (see pages 90 and 91). The chorus membership numbers about three hundred singers, including both townspeople and students.
The "Ann Arbor School of Music" was organized in 1879 and in 1892 was reorganized as the "Univer?sity School of Music." In 1929 the University provided partial support, and students and faculty were given University status. In 1940 the University Musical Society relinquished full control and responsibility for the School to The University of Michigan.
Maintained by the University Musical Society and founded by Albert A. Stanley and his associates on the Board of Directors in 1894
Albert A. Stanley, 1894-1921 Earl V. Moore, 1922-1939
Thor Johnson, 1940-1942 Hardin Van Deursen, 1943-1946 Thor Johnson (Guest), 1947-
Gustav Hoist (London, England),
1923, 1932 Howard Hanson (Rochester), 1926,
1927, 1933, 1935 Felix Borowski (Chicago), 1927 Percy Grainger (Australia), 1928
Jose Iturbi (Philadelphia), 1937 Georges Enesco (Paris), 1939 Harl McDonald (Philadelphia),
1939, 1940, 1944
Virgil Thomson (New York), 1959 Aaron Copland (New York), 1961
ORGANIZATIONS The Boston Festival Orchestra, Emil Mollenhauer, Conductor, 1894-1904.
The Chicago Symphony Orchestra, Frederick Stock, Conductor, 1905-1935; Eric De Lamarter, Associate Conductor, 1918-1935.
The Philadelphia Orchestra, Leopold Stokowski, Conductor, Saul Caston and Charles O'Connell, Associate Conductors, 1936; Eugene Ormandy, Con?ductor, 1937, 1938; Eugene Ormandy, Conductor, Saul Caston, Associate Conductor, 1939-1945; Eugene Ormandy, Conductor, Alexander Hilsberg, Associate Conductor, 1946-1953, and Guest Conductor, 1953; Eugene Ormandy, Conductor, 1954-; William Smith, Assistant Conductor, 1957-.
The University Choral Union, Albert A. Stanley, Conductor, 1894-1921; Earl V. Moore, Conductor, 1922-1939; Thor Johnson, Conductor, 1940-1942; Har-din Van Deursen, Conductor, 1943-1947; Thor Johnson, Guest Conductor, 1947-; Lester McCoy, Associate Conductor, 1947-1956, and Conductor, 195 7-.
The Festival Youth Chorus, trained by Florence B. Potter, and conducted by Albert A. Stanley, 1913-1918. Conductors: Russell Carter, 1920; George Oscar Bowen, 1921-1924; Joseph E. Maddy, 1925-1927; Juva N. Higbee, 1928-1936; Roxy Cowin, 1937; Juva N. Higbee, 1938; Roxy Cowin, 1939; JuvaN. Higbee, 1940-1942; Marguerite Hood, 1943-1956; Geneva Nelson, 1957; Marguerite Hood, 1958.
Bach: Mass in B minor (excerpts)--1923, 1924, 1925 (complete), 19S3
Magnificat in D major--1930, 1950 Beethoven: Missa Solemnis in D major, Op. 123--1927, 1947, 1955
Symphony No. 9 in D minor, Op. 125--1934, 1942, 1945 Berlioz: The Damnation of Faust--1895, 1909, 1920, 1952 Bizet: Carmen--1904, 191S, 1927, 1938 Bloch: "America," An Epic Rhapsody--1929
Sacred Service (Parts 1, 2, 3)--1958 Bossi: Paradise Lost--1916 Brahms: Requiem, Op. 45--1899 (excerpts), 1929 1941, 1949
Alto Rhapsodie, Op. 53--1939
Song of Destiny, Op. 54--1950
Song of Triumph, Op. 55--1953 Bruch: Arminus--1897, 1905
Fair Ellen, Op. 24--1904, 1910
Bruckner: Te Deum laudamus--1945 Carey: "America"--1915
Chabrier: Fete Polonaise from Le Roi malgri lui--1959 Chad wick: The Lily Nymph--1900 Chavez, Carlos: Corrido de "El Sol"--1954t, 1960 Deltos: Sea Drift--1924 Dvorak: Stabat Mater, Op. 58--1906
Requiem Mass, Op. 89--1962 Elcar: Caractacus--1903, 1914, 1936
The Dream of Gerontius, Op. 38--1904, 1912, 1917 Finney, Ross Lee: "Still Are New Worlds"--1963 Fogg: The Seasons--1937 Franck: The Beatitudes--1918 Gabrieli: In Ecdesiis benedicto domino--1958 Giannini: Canticle of the Martyrs--1958 Gluck: Orpheus--1902
Goldmark: The Queen of Sheba (March)--1923 Gomer, Llywelyn: Gloria in Excelsis--1949 Gounod: Faust--1902, 1908, 1919
Grainger, Percy: Marching Song of Democracy--1928 Hadley: "Music," An Ode, Op. 75--1919 Handel: Judas Maccabeus--1911
Messiah--1907, 1914
Solomon--1959 Hanson, Howard: Songs from "Drum Taps"--1935
Heroic Elegy--1927
The Lament for Beowulf--1926
Merry Mount--1933 Haydn: The Creation--1908, 1932, 1963
The Seasons--1909, 1934 Hecer: Ein Friedenslied, Op. 19--1934t Holst: A Choral Fantasia--1932t
A Dirge for Two Veterans--1923
The Hymn of Jesus--1923t
First Choral Symphony (excerpts)--1927t Honeccer, Arthur: King David--1930, 1935, 1942
"Jeanne d'Arc au bucher"--1961 Kodaly: Psalmus Hungaricus, Op. 13--1939 Lambert, Constant: Summer's Last Will and Testament--19S1+ Lockwood, Normand: Prairie--1953
World premiere t American premiere t United States premiere
McDonald, Harl: Symphony No. 3 ("Lamentations of Fu Hsuan")--1939 Mendelssohn, Elijah--1901, 1921, 1926, 1944, 19S4, 1961
St. Paul--190S
Mennlv, Peter: Symphony No. 4, "The Cycle"--19S0 Moussorcsky: Boris Godunov--1931, 1935 Mozart: Great Mass in C minor, K. 427--1948
Requiem Mass in D minor, K. 626--1946
"Davidde penitente"--1956 Orff, Carl: Carmina Burana--1955 Parker: Hora Novissima, Op. 30--1900 Pierne: The Children's Crusade--1915
Saint Francis of Assisi--1928, 1931 Ponchielli: La Gioconda--1925 Poulenc: Secheresses--1959 Prokofiev: Alexander Nevsky, Op. 78--1946 Rachmaninoff: The Bells--1925 1938, 1948 Respighi: La Primavera--1924t Rimski-Korsakov: The Legend of Kitesh--1932t Rossini: Stabat Mater--1897
Saint-Saens: Samson and Delilah--1896, 1899, 1907, 1912, 1916, 1923, 1929, 1940, 1958 Schoenberg: Gurre-Lieder--1956
Schuman, William: A Free Song (Cantata No. 2)--1945 Sibelius: Onward Ye Peoples--1939, 1945 Smith, J. S.: Star Spangled Banner--1919, 1920 Stanley: Chorus Triumphalis, Op. 14--1897, 1912, 1921
Fair Land of Freedom--1919
Hymn of Consecration--1918
"Laus Deo," Choral Ode--1913, 1943
A Psalm of Victory, Op. 8--1906 Stock: A Psalmodic Rhapsody--1922, 1943 Stravlnski: Symphonie de psaumes--1932, 1960 Sullivan: The Golden Legend--1901 Tchaikovsky: Episodes from Eugen Onegin--1911, 1941 Thompson, Randall: Alleluia--1941
Vardell, Charles: Cantata, "The Inimitable Lovers"--1940 Vauchan Williams, Ralph: Five Tudor Portraits--1957
"Flos Campi"--1959
Dona nobis pacem--1962 Verdi: Aida--1903, 1906, 1917, 1921, 1924 excerpts), 1928, 1937, 1957
La Forza del Destino (Finale, Act II)--1924
Requiem Mass--1894, 1898, 1913, 1920, 1930, 1936, 1943, 1951, 1960
Stabat Mater--1899
Te Deum--1947, 1963
Vllla-Lobos, Heitor: ChorosNo. 10, "Rasga o"--1949, 1960 Vivaldi-Casella: Gloria--1954 Wagner: Die fliegende Hollander--1918
Lohengrin--1926; Act 1--1896, 1913
Die Meistcrsingcr, Finale to Act III--1903, 1913; Choral, "Awake," and Chorale Finale to Act III--1923
Scenes from Parsifal--1937
Tannhauser--1902, 1922; March and Chorus--1896; "Venusberg" Music--1946 Walton, William: Belshazzar's Feast--1933, 1952 Wolf-Ferrari: The New Life, Op. 9--1910, 1915, 1922, 1929
t American premiere
Resume of Concerts and Music Performed
Concerts--Thirty-seven events were presented as listed below. The total num?ber of appearances of the respective artists and organizations, under the auspices of the University Musical Society, is given in parentheses.
84th Annual Choral Union Series
Detroit Symphony Orchestra (23); Paul Paray, Conductor (3) ...............October 7
La Traviata (Verdi)--Goldovsky Opera Theater.............................October 10
French National Orchestra (2); Charles Munch, Conductor (20) ..............October 24
Uday Shankar Hindu Dance Company ...................................November 6
Leningrad Philharmonic .................................................November 12
Marriage of Figaro (Mozart)--New York City Opera Co...................November 17
Gerard Souzay, Baritone ..................................................January 8
Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra (11); William Steinberg, Conductor (3) .....February 4
Toronto Symphony Orchestra (4); Walter Susskind, Conductor (2);
Annie Fischer, Pianist ..................................................March 12
Saa Francisco Ballet ........................................................March 22
17th Annual Extra Series
Sound of Music ...........................................................October 31
Rigoletto (Verdi)--New York City Opera Company (2) ...................November 18
NDR Symphony Orchestra of Hamburg; Istvan Kertesz, Conductor ...........January 16
Birgit Nilsson, Soprano (2) .................................................March 18
Christmas Concerts Handel's Messiah ..................................................December 1 and 2
Sarah Endich, Soprano (3) Louise Parker, Contralto (2) Rolf Bjoerling, Tenor (2)
Norman Farrow, Baritone (3) Mary McCall Stubbins, Organist (33) Lester McCoy, Conductor (29)
University Choral Union University Symphony Orchestra
Special Concerts
Chicago Little Symphony; Thor Johnson, Conductor (49) ..................December 9
Chamber Music Festival (23rd annual) ......................February 20, 21, 22, 23, 24
Members of the Budapest Quartet (38); and Eugene Istomin, Pianist (5) Julian Bream, Guitarist and Lutenist ........................................March 31
Seventieth Annual May Festival--May 9,10, 11,12
The Philadelphia Orchestra (170); Conductors: Eugene Ormandy (94),
Thor Johnson (SI), William Smith (7); University Choral Union (244); and soloists:
Isaac Stern, Violinist (4) Rudolf Serkin, Pianist (10) Peter Serkin, Pianist Grant Johannesen, Pianist (2) E. Power Biggs, Organist Adele Addison, Soprano (5)
John McCoIlum, Tenor (4) Donald Bell, Baritone (3) Edwin G. Burrows, Narrator Anthony Gigliotti, Clarinet Bernard Garfield, Bassoon Gilbert Johnson, Trumpet
The complete repertoire of the concerts this season includes music which represents a wide range of musical forms and periods. The compositions, classified into categories of (1) orchestral; (2) instrumental (by chamber music groups and virtuoso artists); (3) vocal (solo); (4) choral union with orches?tra; (5) choral ensemble; (6) ballet; (7) opera; (8) musical; and (9) ethnic dance groups are listed below. Works first performed here are denoted by asterisks.
Concerto No. 2 in F major, for Trumpet and Strings ("Brandenburg") ...........Hamburg
Barber Adgio for Strings ..............Detroit
Concerto for Orchestra ........Hamburg
Music for Stringed Instruments, Percussion, and Celesta......Leningrad
Beethoven Overture to Lconore,
Op. 72, No. 3 ................Toronto
Symphony No. 8 in F major . .Pittsburgh
Berg Excerpts from Lulu ........Philadelphia
Berlioz Symphonie fantastique
in C major ..............Philadelphia
Overture, "Le Corsair" .. French National
Berry ?Fantasy, Chorale, and
Fugue .......Chicago Little Symphony
Bizet Ballet Music from Carmen ......Detroit
Brahms Symphony No. 2 in
D major............... .Philadelphia
Variations on a Theme
by Haydn ...............Philadelphia
Buxtehude (Cailliet) Passacaglio .......Philadelphia
?Variations on
"The Wayfaring Stranger" .....Detroit
Debussy "La Mer" .............French National
DvorAk ?Slavonic Dance No. 8, Op. 46
(encore) ....................Toronto
?Slavonic Dance No. 1, Op. 72
(encore) ...................Hamburg
Symphony No. 4 in G major ... .Toronto
Faure Pavane (encore) ................Detroit
Symphony in D minor...........Detroit
Glinka Overture to Russian and Ludmilla
(encore) ..................Leningrad
Graener ?Divertimento in
D major.....Chicago Little Symphony
Handel Suite from "Music for the
Royal Fireworks" ........Philadelphia
Haydn Symphony No. 83 in G minor
("The Hen") . Chicago Little Symphony Symphony No. 97 in C major .Pittsburgh Liadov Tableau Musical, "Baba Yaga"
(encore) ..................Leningrad
Mendelssohn Symphony No. 4 in A major
("Italian") ................Hamburg
?Tryptich .....................Toronto
Milhaud ?Serenade ...............French National
?"Morning Twilight over the Moscow River" from Khovanstchina
(encore) ..................Leningrad
Mozart Overture to
The Marriage of Figaro.....Leningrad
?Sleigh Ride, K. 60S
(encore) .... Chicago Little Symphony Symphony No. 35 in D major
("Haffner") .............Philadelphia
Purcell ?Trumpet Voluntary .........Philadelphia
Ravel "La Valse" .............French National
Bacchus et Ariane Ballet, Second Suite .........French National
Saint-Saens Symphony No. 3 in C minor
("Organ") ..............Philadelphia
Symphony No. 5 .............Leningrad
Toch Big Ben, Variations on the
Westminster Chimes ........Pittsburgh
Wagner Kaisermarsch in B-flat major Pittsburgh
VVebern ?Symphony, Op. 21 ...........Pittsburgh
?Granada ........................Bream
?Leyenda ........................Bream
Bach (Mozart) Prelude and Fugue in
C minor .......(m) Budapest Quartet
?Prelude and Fugue in D major___Bream
?(Mozart) Prelude and Fugue
in F minor.....(m) Budapest Quartet
Bartok ?Concerto for Piano and Orchestra,
No. 3 ............Fischer and Toronto
Beethoven Concerto No. 4 in
G major ... R. Serkin and Philadelphia Piano Quartet in E-fiat major
...........(m) Budapest and Istomin
?Piano Trio, Op. 1, No. 2, in G major
............(m) Budapest and Istomin
?Piano Trio, Op. 11, in B-flat major
............(m) Budapest and Istomin
?Serenade in D major,
Op. 8 ..........(m) Budapest Quartet
?Sonata in C major, Op. 2,
No. 3 ....................Rubinstein
?String Trio in D minor, Op. 9,
No. 3 ..........(m) Budapest Quartet
Brahms Piano Quartet in A major, Op. 26,
No. 2 ......(m) Budapest and Istomin
Piano Quartet in G minor, Op. 25,
No. 1 ......(m) Budapest and Istomin
Piano Trio in C major
............(m) Budapest and Istomin
Byrd, William
?Galliard ........................Bream
?My Lord Willoughby's
Welcome Home ...............Bream
?Pavan .........................Bream
?Pavana Bray ...................Bream
Ballade in G minor, Op. 23 ...Rubinstein ?tude, Op. 10, No. 4
fitude, Op. 25, No. 5 .........Rubinstein
Fantasie in F minor, Op. 49 .. .Rubinstein Nocturne in F-sharp major, Op. 15,
No. 2 (encore) ............Rubinstein
Preludes, Op. 28, Nos. 1, 3, 4, 20,
22, 23 ..........................Barr
?Two Sonatas ...................Bream
Cutting, Francis
?Bockington Pound ...............Bream
Greensleeves ....................Bream
?Walsingham ....................Bream
Debussy "Hommage a Rameau"
from Images I .............Rubinstein
"Poissons d'or"
from Images II ............Rubinstein
Prelude in A minor ..........Rubinstein
Dowiand, John
?Captain Piper's Galliard .........Bream
?The Earl of Essex's Galliard......Bream
?Henry Noel's Galliard ............Bream
?Sir John Langton's Pavan........Bream
Eichner ?Concerto in C major for Oboe
and Orchestra ...........Caldwell and
Chicago Little Symphony Handel ?Concerto in B-flat major for Harp
and Orchestra ............Nadeau and
Chicago Little Symphony Liszt Hungarian Rhapsody No. 12 in
C-sharp major ............Rubinstein
Mendelssohn ?Piano Trio in D minor
............(m) Budapest and Istomin
Concerto in E-flat major for Two Pianos and Orchestra,
K. 365 ......Rudolph and Peter Serkin
and Philadelphia ?Divertimento for String Trio in E-flat,
K. 563 .........(m) Budapest Quartet
Piano Quartet in E-flat major, K. 493 Piano Quartet in G minor, K. 478
............(m) Budapest and Istomin
Poulenc ?Concerto in G minor for Organ,
Strings ........Briggs and Philadelphia
Purceix ?Air--Rondeau--Minuet--
Hornpipe .....................Bream
Ravel ?Valses nobles et
sentimentales ..............Rubinstein
Reger ?String Trio in A minor,
Op. 77b ........(m) Budapest Quartet
?Variations for Piano and Orchestra
..........Jobannesen and Philadelphia
(Liszt) Fantasie in C major, Op. 15
("Wanderer") ........Johannesen and
Scriabdt Nocturne and Prelude, Op. 9 .......Barr
?Blue Danube Waltz
(Strauss) ..........Kovach-Rabovsky
?Caprice (von Supp6) ......San Francisco
?Concerto Barocco
(Bach) ..............Canadian Ballet
(Chopin) ..........Kovach-Rabovsky
?Divertissement d' Auber
(Auber) ...............San Francisco
?Esmeralda, Grand pas de deux from
Act II (Pugni) .....Kovach-Rabovsky
?Giselle, Peasant pas de deux from
Act I (Adam) ......Kovach-Rabovsky
?Judgment of Paris
(Weill) ..............Canadian Ballet
Strauss, R. Duet-Concertante for Clarinet and
Bassoon .......Gigliotti, Garfield, and
Philadelphia Tircutt ?Odoru Katachi for Percussion and
Orchestra .................Dreves and
Chicago Little Symphony Viixa-Lobos
?Choros No. 1 ...................Bream
O Polichinelo (encore) .......Rubinstein
?Lilac Garden
(Chausson) ..........Canadian Ballet
?Nutcracker Ballet, pas de deux
(Tchaikovsky) .....Kovach-Rabovsky
?One in Five (Strauss) .. .Canadian Ballet
?Orfeo and Euridice
(Gluck) ...........Kovach-Rabovskj
?Les Rendez-vous
(Auber) .............Canadian Ballet
?The Saffron Knot
(Wagner) ..........Kovach-Rabovsky
?Variations de Ballet
(Glazounow) ...........San Francisco
?Mozart The Marriage of Figaro..........New York City Opera
Rigoletto .........New York City Opera
La Traviata ... Goldovsky Opera Theater
Rodgers, Richard ?"Sound of Music" (Lyrics by
Hammerstein) .."Sound of Music" Co.
?Mot kveld .....................Nilsson
?Chevaux de bois ...............Souzay
?Le Jet d'eau ...................Souzay
Mandoline .....................Souzay
?De soir ........................Souzay
Trois ballades de Villon ..........Souzay
De Falla
Polo (encore) ..................Souzay
?Folk Song (Swedish) arranged by
Peterson-Berger (encore) ........Nilsson
Folk Song (Swedish) When I Was
Seventeen (encore) .............Nilsson
Aria, "Divinites du Styx" from Alceste .................Nilsson
Jeg elsker dig ..................Nilsson
Og jeg vil ha mig en hjaertens
kjaer ........................Nilsson
?En svane ......................Nilsson
?Air de Caron, from Alceste ......Souzay
?Air de Cadmus, from
Cadmus el Hermoine ..........Souzay
?Air de Ballet (Vous etes le charme)
from Rafrina .................Souzay
Marchesi ?La Folletta (encore) ............Nilsson
Peterson-Berger ?Intet aer som vaentans tider.....Nilsson
Aria, "Vissi d'arte" from Tosca ..................Nilsson
?Du bist die Ruh' ...............Souzay
Der Erlkonig ...................Souzay
Friihlingsglaube .................Souzay
?Kriegers Ahnung ................Souzay
Nacht und Traume .............Souzay
Der Schiffer ....................Souzay
Die Sterne .....................Souzay
?Wehmut .......................Souzay
?Deraanten paa Marssnoen .......Nilsson
Saev, saev, susa ................Nilsson
Svarta rosor ...................Nilsson
Strauss, Richard
Caecilie ........................Nilsson
Freundliche Vision ..............Nilsson
Heimliche Aufforderung .........Souzay
Morgen ........................Souzay
Standchen ......................Souzay
Zueignung .....................Nilsson
Tilim-bom (encore) .............Souzay
Verdi Aria, "Pace, pace, mio Dio" from
La Forza del Destino ..........Nilsson
Wolf, Hugo
Anakreons Grab ................Nilsson
Icb hab in Pennna einen
Liebsten wohnen .............Nilsson
In dem Schatten meiner Locken .. Nilsson Kennst du das Land ............Nilsson
Finney, Ross Lee
?"Still Are New Worlds" ...Choral Union Burrows and Philadelphia Handel
Messiah .....Choral Union, U. Orchestra
and Soloists
The Creation ............Choral Union,
Philadelphia and Soloists Verdi
Te Deum ___Choral Union, Philadelphia
and Soloists
Bach ?Jesu, Priceless Treasure
....................Michigan Chorale
Te Deum Laudamus . ..Michigan Chorale Folk Songs A11 Through the Night
(Welsh) ............Michigan Chorale
?Crucifixion ...........Michigan Chorale
Everytime I Feel the Spirit
(Negro) ............Michigan Chorale
?He's Got the Whole World
(Negro) ...........Michigan Chorale
?Jesus Walked this Lonesome
Valley .............Michigan Chorale
?Mary Had a Baby
(Appalachian) ......Michigan Chorale
?Peter Go Ring Dem Bells
....................Michigan Chorale
Camptown Races .....Michigan Chorale
?Old Black Joe ........Michigan Chorale
Lerner ?Selections from
"My Fair Lady" ...Michigan Chorale Pachelbel ?Now Thank We All
Our God ...........Michigan Chorale
Rodgers ?Selections from
"Oklahoma"....... .Michigan Chorale
?"Lord, with What Care.Michigan Chorale
Folk Songs and Dances
El Amantc de Cordoba ..........Molina
Astra Puja ....................Shankar
Baile de Luis Alonso ............Molina
Bolero de Ravel ................Molina
Brahmaputra ..................Shankar
La Campanera .................Molina
Los Camperos (Zapateado) ......Molina
Capriccio Espanol ...............Molina
Fiesta en Andaluda .............Molina
Fon-Leb .....................Phakavali
The Great Renunciation ........Shankar
Los Gitanos de Granada .........Molina
Hunuman and Benchakai......Phakavali
Jota "La Dolores" ..............Molina
Khada ........................Shankar
Krisna Ni Begane Baro .........Shanker
Los Lagarteranos (Castellana) ....Molina
Malaga La Bella ................Molina
Manohra's Dance ............Phakavali
La Noche ..................... Molina
Panthadi Meena and Kabita ...Phakavali
Ranaad Solo .................Phakavali
Rum Klong .................Phakavali
Rum Kratob Mai ............Phakavali
Sud Jatri ....................Phakavali
Sword Dance ................Phakavali
Taberna Flamenco ..............Molina
Tangos Y Tientos ...............Molina
La Tarantula ...................Molina
Tiempos De Goya ..............Molina
Viva Espana....................Molina
Yu-Ngid .....................Phakavali
Classification Number of Compositions First Performances at these Concerts Composers Represented Foreign Artists
Orchestral ....... 42 56 42 4 15 15 3 1 32 14 36 21 1 13 14 2 1 32 33 26 15 4 7 13 2 1 4 1 2

Vocal .....
Choral Union
Choral Ensemble
Ballet ... 2
Opera .
Ethnic Dance Groups........ 3
Totals . 210 134 Less duplicatic 101 ins --26 12 --2

74 10
Presentations for the 1963-1964 Season
New York Philharmonic........Wednesday, September 11
Leonard Bernstein, Conductor
Gyorgy Sandor, Pianist..........Tuesday, September 24
Jerome Hines, Bass............Monday, October 7
Bulgarian National Ensemble........Friday, October 18
Philip Koutev, Director
The Cleveland Orchestra........Thursday, November 7
George Szell, Conductor
Don Giovanni (Mozart)..........Sunday, November 17
New York City Opera Company
Philharmonia Hungarica.........Monday, January 20
Tossy Spivakovsky, Violin Soloist
Mazowsze Dance Company (from Poland) . . . Thursday, January 30
Teresa Berganza, Coloratura mezzo-soprano . . Wednesday, February 26
Chicago Opera Ballet............Friday, March 13
Tosca (Puccini).............Thursday, October 10
Goldovsky Opera Theater
Ballet Folklorico of Mexico.......Friday, November 1
Madatna Butterfly (Puccini) .....[2:30] Sunday, November 17
New York City Opera Company Vienna Symphony Orchestra.......Thursday, February 20
Wolfgang Sawallisch, Conductor Anna Moffo, Soprano.............Friday, April 3
Kimio Eto, Kotoist, with Suzushi Hanayagi
and assisting musicians .........Sunday, October 13
Moscow Chamber Orchestra.......Wednesday, November 13
Rudolf Barshai, Conductor Julian Bream Consort..........Tuesday, November 26
Treble lute, pandora, cittern, viol, flute, and violin Sestetto Italiano Luca Marenzio......Tuesday, December 10
Madrigals and Christmas music from Italy Zurich Chamber Orchestra........Saturday, January 25
Edmond deStoutz, Conductor
Korean Company of Dancers and Musicians . . Sunday, February 9 Orchestra San Pietro of Naples.......Thursday, March 19
Renato Ruotolo, Director
Messiah (Handel) (Two Performances) .... Saturday, December 7
[2:30] Sunday, December 8 Soloists:
Lois Marshall, Soprano Beverly Wolff, Contralto
John Craig, Tenor Richard Cross, Bass
The University Choral Union
The University Symphony Orchestra
Mary McCall Stubbins, Organist
Lester McCoy, Conductor
Chamber Dance Festival
Marina Svetlova Dance Ensemble.....Friday, October 25
Shanta Rao, and Company of Dancers
and Musicians from South India .... Saturday, October 26 Hungarian Ballets Bihari--Kovach and
Rabovsky, with Gypsy Musicians . [2:30] Sunday, October 27
Chamber Music Festival (three concerts).....February 14, IS, 16
New York Pro Musica, Noah Greenberg, Director
Ann Arbor May Festival (Six Concerts) .... April 30, May 1, 2, 3 The Philadelphia Orchestra, Eugene Ormandy, Conductor; guest conductors and soloists.

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