LAST SEASONS PROGRAM NOTES
QUATOUR DANEL
Tchaikovsky-Quartet No. 1:
Tchaikovsky was a late starter as a composer, having been slated for a career as a lawyer at the behest of his parents. At twenty, he resigned his post of the Ministry of Justice to eke out a marginal existence as a music teacher, working out of a small single room furnished only with a bed and a writing table. At age twenty-three, he began classes in composition at St. Petersburg’s conservatory, composing about a dozen chamber works as student exercises. In 1866 he took a post at Moscow Conservatory as Professor of Harmony. Here he found a fine resident string quartet. In January 1871 Nicholas Rubinstein, founder and head of the Conservatory, proposed an all-Tchaikovsky concert. The young composer responded by writing his Op. 11 quartet, completing it in time for the March 28 concert, which was a great success.
The first movement is the longest of the four, characterized by complex rhythms and a variegated development. It ends with an upbeat rush-a perfect setting for the beautiful, simple Andante cantabile second movement, probably the most popular thing Tchaikovsky ever wrote. He based this on a folk song he had heard two years earlier while visiting his sister in Kamenka. Although the words of the song were banal (“Vanya sat on the divan and smoked a pipe of tobacco”), the music stayed with him and remains popular to this day. The third movement is an energetic, bouncy Scherzo, reminiscent of Schumann or Beethoven, with a delightful trio that slows the pace before the first section returns to lead us to the quizzical end. The finale is energetic and features a dialog of cello and viola before the quartet ends in a brilliant coda. –Craig Leman, 1998
Janácek-Quartet “Kreutzer Sonata”:
At seventy, Janácek reworked and incorporated an earlier piano trio into this work in just a week. He subtitled it “Inspired by L.N. Tolstoy’s ‘Kreutzersonata’…. I had in mind the pitiable woman who is maltreated, beaten and murdered, such as is described by Tolstoy in his story.” As in most of his works in every genre, folk melodies abound from the two-bar theme that opens the adagio and soon gives way to a light dance tune. The adagio theme recurs in the finale. Janácek anticipated Bartok in his adaptation of folk idiom and rhythms.
Czech composers tend to have a dual orientation: toward the east (folk music of Moravia and Slovakia), and the west (the classic-romantic tradition). Smetana and Dvorak leaned west; Janácek plunged east. His feeling about folk music were almost mystical: “Folk song-I have lived in it since childhood….In folk song the entire man is enshrined…Therefore I believe that as soon as our art music originates from this popular source, we shall become brethren in the creation of that music; a community will thus arise encompassing all mankind. Folk song unites a people; it unites nations and mankind itself in one spirit of happiness and contentment.” Janácek might have enjoyed Woodstock. –Craig Leman, 1982
Beethoven-Op. 59 No. 1:
This quartet was the product of a 35-year-old Beethoven at the zenith of his creative powers. Count Andrei Razumovsky, the Russian ambassador to Vienna, who played second violin in his own quartet, commissioned three string quartets from Beethoven, who used several themes from Russian folk songs to honor his patron. The ebullient, swinging, expansive opening theme returns in many guises throughout Beethoven’s ingenious development. Contrary to usual practice, each movement is in sonata form; the first is the longest and the broadest in range. The end of the movement is classic Beethoven: a tender questioning phrase, a transition, then a crashing resolution.
The cello’s rhythmic repetition of B-flat introduces a second movement unique among string quartets. Again, Beethoven builds a monument of sonata structure on a skeletal framework of monotone-in Tovey’s words, “a vision of dry bones.” If the first movement is a superb exercise of melody, the second movement is an apotheosis of rhythm.
The adagio is an introspective lament that matches the pathos of the slow movements of the late quartets of two decades later. After a complex development, Beethoven uses a long violin trill to lead us into the lively finale. The “theme russe” –long, discursive, and reminiscent of the great theme that introduced the first movement-was a Russian tune in a book of folk songs that Beethoven owned and annotated in his own hand. Although many commentators have caviled that the finale is on a slightly less exalted plane the rest of the quartet, others find the complex, brilliant development of this theme a powerful, dramatic and wholly satisfying conclusion to the work.
Beethoven’s innovations were too much for some of his contemporaries. The cellist in Razumovsky’s Quartet found his part so complicated that he gave up, threw it on the floor and declared it unplayable. We do not know just how Count Razumovsky resolved this little labor dispute. That was one hundred eighty years ago. The work was a landmark, even for Beethoven. –Craig Leman, 1987
Tchaikovsky was a late starter as a composer, having been slated for a career as a lawyer at the behest of his parents. At twenty, he resigned his post of the Ministry of Justice to eke out a marginal existence as a music teacher, working out of a small single room furnished only with a bed and a writing table. At age twenty-three, he began classes in composition at St. Petersburg’s conservatory, composing about a dozen chamber works as student exercises. In 1866 he took a post at Moscow Conservatory as Professor of Harmony. Here he found a fine resident string quartet. In January 1871 Nicholas Rubinstein, founder and head of the Conservatory, proposed an all-Tchaikovsky concert. The young composer responded by writing his Op. 11 quartet, completing it in time for the March 28 concert, which was a great success.
The first movement is the longest of the four, characterized by complex rhythms and a variegated development. It ends with an upbeat rush-a perfect setting for the beautiful, simple Andante cantabile second movement, probably the most popular thing Tchaikovsky ever wrote. He based this on a folk song he had heard two years earlier while visiting his sister in Kamenka. Although the words of the song were banal (“Vanya sat on the divan and smoked a pipe of tobacco”), the music stayed with him and remains popular to this day. The third movement is an energetic, bouncy Scherzo, reminiscent of Schumann or Beethoven, with a delightful trio that slows the pace before the first section returns to lead us to the quizzical end. The finale is energetic and features a dialog of cello and viola before the quartet ends in a brilliant coda. –Craig Leman, 1998
Janácek-Quartet “Kreutzer Sonata”:
At seventy, Janácek reworked and incorporated an earlier piano trio into this work in just a week. He subtitled it “Inspired by L.N. Tolstoy’s ‘Kreutzersonata’…. I had in mind the pitiable woman who is maltreated, beaten and murdered, such as is described by Tolstoy in his story.” As in most of his works in every genre, folk melodies abound from the two-bar theme that opens the adagio and soon gives way to a light dance tune. The adagio theme recurs in the finale. Janácek anticipated Bartok in his adaptation of folk idiom and rhythms.
Czech composers tend to have a dual orientation: toward the east (folk music of Moravia and Slovakia), and the west (the classic-romantic tradition). Smetana and Dvorak leaned west; Janácek plunged east. His feeling about folk music were almost mystical: “Folk song-I have lived in it since childhood….In folk song the entire man is enshrined…Therefore I believe that as soon as our art music originates from this popular source, we shall become brethren in the creation of that music; a community will thus arise encompassing all mankind. Folk song unites a people; it unites nations and mankind itself in one spirit of happiness and contentment.” Janácek might have enjoyed Woodstock. –Craig Leman, 1982
Beethoven-Op. 59 No. 1:
This quartet was the product of a 35-year-old Beethoven at the zenith of his creative powers. Count Andrei Razumovsky, the Russian ambassador to Vienna, who played second violin in his own quartet, commissioned three string quartets from Beethoven, who used several themes from Russian folk songs to honor his patron. The ebullient, swinging, expansive opening theme returns in many guises throughout Beethoven’s ingenious development. Contrary to usual practice, each movement is in sonata form; the first is the longest and the broadest in range. The end of the movement is classic Beethoven: a tender questioning phrase, a transition, then a crashing resolution.
The cello’s rhythmic repetition of B-flat introduces a second movement unique among string quartets. Again, Beethoven builds a monument of sonata structure on a skeletal framework of monotone-in Tovey’s words, “a vision of dry bones.” If the first movement is a superb exercise of melody, the second movement is an apotheosis of rhythm.
The adagio is an introspective lament that matches the pathos of the slow movements of the late quartets of two decades later. After a complex development, Beethoven uses a long violin trill to lead us into the lively finale. The “theme russe” –long, discursive, and reminiscent of the great theme that introduced the first movement-was a Russian tune in a book of folk songs that Beethoven owned and annotated in his own hand. Although many commentators have caviled that the finale is on a slightly less exalted plane the rest of the quartet, others find the complex, brilliant development of this theme a powerful, dramatic and wholly satisfying conclusion to the work.
Beethoven’s innovations were too much for some of his contemporaries. The cellist in Razumovsky’s Quartet found his part so complicated that he gave up, threw it on the floor and declared it unplayable. We do not know just how Count Razumovsky resolved this little labor dispute. That was one hundred eighty years ago. The work was a landmark, even for Beethoven. –Craig Leman, 1987
CAMERATA RCO
Schumann- Fantasiestücke: These three-character pieces, (originally titled “Night Pieces) were composed during a two-day period in the winter of 1849. Schumann’s original version is for clarinet and piano, but he specified that they could also be played on cello or viola. The arrangement for clarinet and string quartet was made by Geert van Keulen, a Dutch composer, arranger, and former bass clarinetist in the Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra.
Mozart – String Quintet K. 406: In 1788 Mozart’s finances were in need of improvement, so he composed two string quintets, using a string quartet plus an extra viola. After deciding a third quintet was needed to make a set, but having little time to write, he transcribed his Serenade K. 388, a wind octet for oboes, clarinets, horns and bassoons. This work had a more serious tone and fewer movements than the usual Serenade, so it translated well to the string format. Mozart offered the set for public subscriptions with little success, and he eventually sold it outright to a Viennese publisher.
The first movement is in the serious key of C minor; the second in a serene E-flat major. Mozart labelled the third movement Menuetto in Canone; he must have delighted in showing off his contrapuntal abilities, using imitations between several combinations of instruments. In the trio he imitated his theme by also turning it upside down. The last movement is a set of variations, mostly in C minor, but ending with a jolly C major coda. –Angela Carlson
Brahms – Quintet for Clarinet and Strings: By 1890 Brahms felt that he had composed enough. Repeatedly, he told his friends that he intended to retire. Then, early in 1891 at a concert in Meiningen he heard a clarinetist named Richard Mühlfeld, whom Brahms described as “absolutely the best wind-instrument player I know.” Mühlfeld’s beautiful playing awakened Brahms’ slumbering genius. Over the next three years he composed four of his finest chamber works – a clarinet trio, two clarinet sonatas, and this quintet.
In the spring of 1891 Brahms set to work on the quintet at his favorite retreat, a spa in Ischl, where he had often retired to compose undisturbed. By the end of summer he was finished. The Joachim Quartet and Mühlfeld gave the first performance in November. The audience was so enthusiastic that the players had to repeat the adagio, as they did in Vienna the following month.
The opening theme follows a downward course: the first movement is poignant and, like each of the others, ends softly – not the usual thing for the often boisterous Brahms. The lovely adagio has a rhapsodic Hungarian central section that gives the clarinet a workout. The third movement breaks the spell of melancholy set by the first two. The finale is a set of five gorgeous variations that lead back finally to the opening theme.
The clarinet and strings in this unique work evoke a lyrical sadness, expressing Brahms’ emotions as, in the words of his first biographer Heinrich Deiters, he looked “…back musingly over an existence rich in powerful creative works, artistic successes, devotions, and love…but not without a feeling of grief at all that was no more.” -Craig Leman, 1984
Mozart – String Quintet K. 406: In 1788 Mozart’s finances were in need of improvement, so he composed two string quintets, using a string quartet plus an extra viola. After deciding a third quintet was needed to make a set, but having little time to write, he transcribed his Serenade K. 388, a wind octet for oboes, clarinets, horns and bassoons. This work had a more serious tone and fewer movements than the usual Serenade, so it translated well to the string format. Mozart offered the set for public subscriptions with little success, and he eventually sold it outright to a Viennese publisher.
The first movement is in the serious key of C minor; the second in a serene E-flat major. Mozart labelled the third movement Menuetto in Canone; he must have delighted in showing off his contrapuntal abilities, using imitations between several combinations of instruments. In the trio he imitated his theme by also turning it upside down. The last movement is a set of variations, mostly in C minor, but ending with a jolly C major coda. –Angela Carlson
Brahms – Quintet for Clarinet and Strings: By 1890 Brahms felt that he had composed enough. Repeatedly, he told his friends that he intended to retire. Then, early in 1891 at a concert in Meiningen he heard a clarinetist named Richard Mühlfeld, whom Brahms described as “absolutely the best wind-instrument player I know.” Mühlfeld’s beautiful playing awakened Brahms’ slumbering genius. Over the next three years he composed four of his finest chamber works – a clarinet trio, two clarinet sonatas, and this quintet.
In the spring of 1891 Brahms set to work on the quintet at his favorite retreat, a spa in Ischl, where he had often retired to compose undisturbed. By the end of summer he was finished. The Joachim Quartet and Mühlfeld gave the first performance in November. The audience was so enthusiastic that the players had to repeat the adagio, as they did in Vienna the following month.
The opening theme follows a downward course: the first movement is poignant and, like each of the others, ends softly – not the usual thing for the often boisterous Brahms. The lovely adagio has a rhapsodic Hungarian central section that gives the clarinet a workout. The third movement breaks the spell of melancholy set by the first two. The finale is a set of five gorgeous variations that lead back finally to the opening theme.
The clarinet and strings in this unique work evoke a lyrical sadness, expressing Brahms’ emotions as, in the words of his first biographer Heinrich Deiters, he looked “…back musingly over an existence rich in powerful creative works, artistic successes, devotions, and love…but not without a feeling of grief at all that was no more.” -Craig Leman, 1984
ENSEMBLE 4.1
Mozart – Quintet in E-flat KV 452
More than any other major composer except perhaps Duke Ellington, Mozart wrote for unusual instrumental combos. Early in 1784 while working on three of his best piano concertos, he produced this quintet for a special Vienna concert which took place with Mozart at the keyboard just two days after he completed the score. Mozart wrote about the quintet to his father: “It had the greatest applause. I myself consider it the best thing I have written in my life…To tell the truth, I grew tired of the mere playing at the end, and it reflects no small credit on me that my audience did not in any degree share the fatigue.”
The opening largo gives each performer a solo bow. The allegro approaches concertante style in the brilliant instrumental treatment and ends with a two horn salvo. In the larghetto the piano introduces a melody which is taken up in canon by clarinet and flute. Late in the rondo, listen for a cadenza and then the final statement of the theme with all five instruments entering in sequence.
Beethoven loved this Mozart quintet enough to rise to the challenge with a quintet of his own for the same combination. In 1900 Donald Tovey wrote a classic essay comparing these two masterpieces, concluding that, although the Beethoven quintet was indeed “…exceedingly beautiful, Mozart solves problems that Beethoven, in his imitation of Mozart, hardly so much as perceived.”
-Craig Leman, 1990
The opening largo gives each performer a solo bow. The allegro approaches concertante style in the brilliant instrumental treatment and ends with a two horn salvo. In the larghetto the piano introduces a melody which is taken up in canon by clarinet and flute. Late in the rondo, listen for a cadenza and then the final statement of the theme with all five instruments entering in sequence.
Beethoven loved this Mozart quintet enough to rise to the challenge with a quintet of his own for the same combination. In 1900 Donald Tovey wrote a classic essay comparing these two masterpieces, concluding that, although the Beethoven quintet was indeed “…exceedingly beautiful, Mozart solves problems that Beethoven, in his imitation of Mozart, hardly so much as perceived.”
-Craig Leman, 1990
Theodor Verhey – Quintet in E-flat Major Op. 2
One of the stated aims of Ensemble 4.1 is “discovering rarely played compositions from the Romantic and Modern periods.” The Quintet for winds and piano by Theodor Verhey certainly fits this description. Verhey was born in Rotterdam, the Netherlands, began early music studies with his father, and attended the Royal Music School in The Hague, where he studied piano, cello, music theory and composition. Later he took composition lessons with Woldemar Bargiel, a step-brother of Clara Schumann. His early works were mostly chamber music, piano music and Lieder. Later in life he had some success with two symphonies and several concertos, as well as two operas while working as a teacher in Rotterdam.
Walter Gieseking – Quintet in B-flat Major
Those who might recognize the name Walter Gieseking probably know him as a virtuoso pianist with a wide repertory of recordings. He first appeared as a concert pianist in 1915, but in 1916 was drafted into the German army where he spent the rest of the war playing in a band. Between the wars he established his reputation, playing in London and all around Europe. During World War II Gieseking elected to stay in Germany, giving concerts for Nazi cultural organizations among his other performances. He was blacklisted after the war, but was cleared by the U.S. military government in early 1947. He continued to tour widely in spite of a few protests against his Nazi associations. As the past receded he was praised for his natural musicality, fluid technique, and numerous recordings, which included the complete works of Mozart, Debussy and Ravel. He composed throughout his performing career but did not push them publicly. His father had been a lepidopterist, and Gieseking devoted considerable time to collecting butterflies and moths. –Angela Carlson
MECCORE QUARTET
Haydn's Quartet in C major, Op. 50, No. 2
Op. 50 No. 2 is the second of six quartets that Haydn wrote in 1787 for the King of Prussia, an amateur cellist for whom Mozart had composed a set of quartets; both composers garnished the scores with cello solos to honor the royal bowman. Two years earlier, Mozart had dedicated six quartets to Haydn, who expressed delight in and admiration for them.
Mozart influenced the older man in several ways. First, Haydn simply stopped writing operas and piano concertos. Here are his words to a publisher in a 1787 letter: “…you asked me for an opera buffa….I should be risking a great deal, for scarcely any man can brook comparison with the great Mozart…..How inimitable are Mozart’s works, how profound!....It enrages me to think that this incomparable Mozart is not yet engaged by some imperial or royal court. Forgive me if I lose my head, but I love the man so dearly.”
However, Haydn wrote nearly two dozen quartets after Mozart’s 1785 set, apparently feeling he could ‘compete’ with Mozart in chamber music. Although some musicologist profess to find Mozart’s influence pervading these works, others find them consistent with Haydn’s normal independent development. What one chooses to believe, Haydn’s late quartets are significant additions to a matchless output of chamber music.
-Craig Leman (1984)
Mozart influenced the older man in several ways. First, Haydn simply stopped writing operas and piano concertos. Here are his words to a publisher in a 1787 letter: “…you asked me for an opera buffa….I should be risking a great deal, for scarcely any man can brook comparison with the great Mozart…..How inimitable are Mozart’s works, how profound!....It enrages me to think that this incomparable Mozart is not yet engaged by some imperial or royal court. Forgive me if I lose my head, but I love the man so dearly.”
However, Haydn wrote nearly two dozen quartets after Mozart’s 1785 set, apparently feeling he could ‘compete’ with Mozart in chamber music. Although some musicologist profess to find Mozart’s influence pervading these works, others find them consistent with Haydn’s normal independent development. What one chooses to believe, Haydn’s late quartets are significant additions to a matchless output of chamber music.
-Craig Leman (1984)
Karol Szymanowski's Quartet No. 1 in C Major, Op. 38
Karol Szymanowski was born into a wealthy, aristocratic Polish family that had settled in the Ukraine after the partition of Poland. His father played cello and piano, and started his son on piano lessons when he was 7. The boy was beset by infections of his leg, which required numerous operations, so that he could not attend school and required tutors at home. At age 10 he was well enough to begin piano lessons with Gustav Neuhaus, whose son Heinrich became his close friend, and later a renowned piano pedagogue, teach of Emil Gilels and Sviatoslav Richter.
In 1901 he (Szymanowski) moved to Warsaw to study composition and soon became the leader of a group of young musicians called “Young Poland in Music.” His early works were songs, piano, and violin music, influenced by Scriabin and Richard Strauss. He traveled widely in Europe and North Africa, gradually developing his own unique style of composition, incorporating elements of Ravel, Debussy and Stravinsky. Just before World War I he was living in Paris. He managed to get back to the family estate, which dis integrated during the Russian Revolution. Financially insecure thereafter, he lived most in the mountainous Tetra district of Poland, sometimes teaching at the Warsaw Conservatory, occasionally touring America and Europe as a compose-performer with his lifelong friend Artur Rubenstein.
His first string quartet was written in 1917, but only performed in public in 1924. It is from his somewhat experimental middle period, most notably using a different key signature for each instrument in the second movement, as well as writing only three movements instead of the customary four.
–Craig Leman 2006 (last paragraph added by A. Carlson)
In 1901 he (Szymanowski) moved to Warsaw to study composition and soon became the leader of a group of young musicians called “Young Poland in Music.” His early works were songs, piano, and violin music, influenced by Scriabin and Richard Strauss. He traveled widely in Europe and North Africa, gradually developing his own unique style of composition, incorporating elements of Ravel, Debussy and Stravinsky. Just before World War I he was living in Paris. He managed to get back to the family estate, which dis integrated during the Russian Revolution. Financially insecure thereafter, he lived most in the mountainous Tetra district of Poland, sometimes teaching at the Warsaw Conservatory, occasionally touring America and Europe as a compose-performer with his lifelong friend Artur Rubenstein.
His first string quartet was written in 1917, but only performed in public in 1924. It is from his somewhat experimental middle period, most notably using a different key signature for each instrument in the second movement, as well as writing only three movements instead of the customary four.
–Craig Leman 2006 (last paragraph added by A. Carlson)
Schumann's Quartet in A minor, Op. 41, No. 1
Having spent the early years of his compositional career creating piano works, Schumann in 1838 wrote his fiancée Clara that he was thinking of writing string quartets. He received what some would now call a classic put-down: “So you’re going to write quartets! …Are you then thoroughly acquainted with the instruments? I’m very much delighted with your plan. Only, please compose right clearly.” It is not surprising that, in the face of such wild enthusiasm from his beloved, Schumann put this project on the back burner, till they were safely married.
Not till 1842 did he really get with it, and here is what he had to say about quartet-writing at the time: “The quartet has come to a standstill. Who does not know the quartets of Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven? …..It is no good sign that the later generation, after all this time, has not been able to produce anything comparable.” 1842 started as a hard year for the Schumanns. Clara went off on a concert tour, leaving Robert babysitting and brooding over their separation. Too depressed to compose, he wrote, “A miserable life! The parting has made me poignantly feel my strange and difficult position.” They considered a two-year concert tour in America, “…but the abyss is just too monstrous that would separate one there from the homeland.”
When Clara returned, he was waiting “like a bridegroom, at once happy and anxious.” At once, he set to work on the quartets and soon wrote in his diary, “I have been busy in a new field and have nearly finished and written out two string quartets.” By June he added the third, complete Opus 41, his life-time output of string quartets. For his wife’s birthday he arranged a private home performance of all three, causing her to write “My respect for his genius, for his intellect, altogether for the whole composer, grows with each work…Here everything is new and at the same time lucid, finely worked out, and always in the quartet idiom.”
Five years later Schumann wrote his publisher, “My quartets which you brought out have regained fresh significance for me through the death of Mendelssohn to whom they are dedicated. I still regard them as my best work of the earlier days and Mendelssohn often spoke to me in the same sense.”
-Craig Leman (1982)
Not till 1842 did he really get with it, and here is what he had to say about quartet-writing at the time: “The quartet has come to a standstill. Who does not know the quartets of Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven? …..It is no good sign that the later generation, after all this time, has not been able to produce anything comparable.” 1842 started as a hard year for the Schumanns. Clara went off on a concert tour, leaving Robert babysitting and brooding over their separation. Too depressed to compose, he wrote, “A miserable life! The parting has made me poignantly feel my strange and difficult position.” They considered a two-year concert tour in America, “…but the abyss is just too monstrous that would separate one there from the homeland.”
When Clara returned, he was waiting “like a bridegroom, at once happy and anxious.” At once, he set to work on the quartets and soon wrote in his diary, “I have been busy in a new field and have nearly finished and written out two string quartets.” By June he added the third, complete Opus 41, his life-time output of string quartets. For his wife’s birthday he arranged a private home performance of all three, causing her to write “My respect for his genius, for his intellect, altogether for the whole composer, grows with each work…Here everything is new and at the same time lucid, finely worked out, and always in the quartet idiom.”
Five years later Schumann wrote his publisher, “My quartets which you brought out have regained fresh significance for me through the death of Mendelssohn to whom they are dedicated. I still regard them as my best work of the earlier days and Mendelssohn often spoke to me in the same sense.”
-Craig Leman (1982)
SCHUBERT ENSEMBLE OF LONDON
Franz Schubert: String Trio Movement in B flat D. 471
1. Allegro
Schubert wrote his two string trios in the years 1816 and 1817. This first trio, D.471 was never completed – an Andante second movement ends abruptly at bar 39, and this Allegro first movement survives alone. It is a delightful, charming miniature, probably produced alongside many other chamber works for performance amongst his intimate circle of friends. Much of the writing is fine and delicate, creating a sense of classical refinement that has more in common with lighter works such as the Trout quintet than later, more serious works such as the great string quintet or the two piano trios. Throughout there is a sense of overflowing melodic invention, almost always sunny and gentle in character. The movement is in the traditional sonata form, the short central development section introducing the only real moment of anguish before ebbing back into the mood of the opening. The piece ends quietly, wrapping the movement up in the same genteel manner as it began.
© Schubert Ensemble
1. Allegro
Schubert wrote his two string trios in the years 1816 and 1817. This first trio, D.471 was never completed – an Andante second movement ends abruptly at bar 39, and this Allegro first movement survives alone. It is a delightful, charming miniature, probably produced alongside many other chamber works for performance amongst his intimate circle of friends. Much of the writing is fine and delicate, creating a sense of classical refinement that has more in common with lighter works such as the Trout quintet than later, more serious works such as the great string quintet or the two piano trios. Throughout there is a sense of overflowing melodic invention, almost always sunny and gentle in character. The movement is in the traditional sonata form, the short central development section introducing the only real moment of anguish before ebbing back into the mood of the opening. The piece ends quietly, wrapping the movement up in the same genteel manner as it began.
© Schubert Ensemble
Shostakovitch Piano Quintet in G minor Op. 57
1. Prelude: Lento
2. Fugue: Adagio
3. Scherzo: Allegretto
4. Intermezzo: Lento
5. Finale: Allegretto
After serious (and potentially dangerous) criticism had been levelled at Shostakovich in the 1930’s regarding his ‘un-Soviet’ style of composition, he responded with two works that met the full approval of the Communist powers: the Fifth Symphony and this quintet. On one level, both indeed reverted to the relative simplicity and patriotic (or ‘happy’) endings that the authorities prescribed. But this is without reckoning on Shostakovich’s deep sense of musical irony. This quality is, by definition, impossible to define, or even pin down, which is why it remains a controversial topic, but in this work it is almost impossible not to detect a strong vein of irony, most particularly in the 3rd and 5th movements. Shostakovich composed the quintet during the summer of 1940 and performed it with the famous Beethoven Quartet in Moscow on November 23rd 1940. That same year the quintet was awarded the Stalin Prize of 100,000 rubles, perhaps the largest sum ever paid for a piece of chamber music!
The quintet starts with a slow, declamatory Prelude. The opening solemnity soon gives way, though, to a lighter, slightly faster middle section. But the dramatic intensity returns for a brief, free reprise of the opening. The Bach-like Fugue, which follows without pause, is profound and moving. The fugue subject, which sounds as though it might be a melancholy Russian folk song, is announced by the muted first violin alone. Shostakovich develops considerable tension as he allows it to unfold ever so slowly in an unbroken cantabile line with an overall arch shape. The melody passes through all the strings and the piano, and after building to an impassioned climax, the music relaxes and gradually fades into inaudibility.
Fiery and tempestuous, the Scherzo bursts forth with two repetitions of an almost naive, two-phrase piano tune against an aggressive accompaniment in the strings. This saucy, slightly impertinent character continues until some humorously jarring sharp dissonances introduce the contrasting middle section with its folk dance-like melody. The first section returns again, in altered form, to conclude the movement. There seems to be something intentionally grotesque about this movement that perhaps rather sarcastically parodies the conventional scherzo as a ‘joke’.
The Intermezzo is essentially a dialogue between a broad flowing melody and an inexorable, "walking" staccato line that starts life in the cello. Like the fugue, the movement begins in an atmosphere of almost unbearable loneliness, the other instruments gradually joining the violin as the music ascends to a searing climax. Near the end of the Intermezzo, the piano foreshadows the theme of the Finale and then carries it, without stop, into the fifth movement proper. This is the most ambiguous of all five movements – is it really as simple and cheerful as it seems, or can we detect an undercurrent of irony and discontent? As if to accentuate the ‘false smile’, one theme is a quotation of the tune traditionally played at the entrance of the clowns in the Russian circus. After a work that encompasses such extremes of emotion, the finale meanders its way to the end, with echoes of the Viennese salon, concluding as if with an indifferent shrug.
© Schubert Ensemble
1. Prelude: Lento
2. Fugue: Adagio
3. Scherzo: Allegretto
4. Intermezzo: Lento
5. Finale: Allegretto
After serious (and potentially dangerous) criticism had been levelled at Shostakovich in the 1930’s regarding his ‘un-Soviet’ style of composition, he responded with two works that met the full approval of the Communist powers: the Fifth Symphony and this quintet. On one level, both indeed reverted to the relative simplicity and patriotic (or ‘happy’) endings that the authorities prescribed. But this is without reckoning on Shostakovich’s deep sense of musical irony. This quality is, by definition, impossible to define, or even pin down, which is why it remains a controversial topic, but in this work it is almost impossible not to detect a strong vein of irony, most particularly in the 3rd and 5th movements. Shostakovich composed the quintet during the summer of 1940 and performed it with the famous Beethoven Quartet in Moscow on November 23rd 1940. That same year the quintet was awarded the Stalin Prize of 100,000 rubles, perhaps the largest sum ever paid for a piece of chamber music!
The quintet starts with a slow, declamatory Prelude. The opening solemnity soon gives way, though, to a lighter, slightly faster middle section. But the dramatic intensity returns for a brief, free reprise of the opening. The Bach-like Fugue, which follows without pause, is profound and moving. The fugue subject, which sounds as though it might be a melancholy Russian folk song, is announced by the muted first violin alone. Shostakovich develops considerable tension as he allows it to unfold ever so slowly in an unbroken cantabile line with an overall arch shape. The melody passes through all the strings and the piano, and after building to an impassioned climax, the music relaxes and gradually fades into inaudibility.
Fiery and tempestuous, the Scherzo bursts forth with two repetitions of an almost naive, two-phrase piano tune against an aggressive accompaniment in the strings. This saucy, slightly impertinent character continues until some humorously jarring sharp dissonances introduce the contrasting middle section with its folk dance-like melody. The first section returns again, in altered form, to conclude the movement. There seems to be something intentionally grotesque about this movement that perhaps rather sarcastically parodies the conventional scherzo as a ‘joke’.
The Intermezzo is essentially a dialogue between a broad flowing melody and an inexorable, "walking" staccato line that starts life in the cello. Like the fugue, the movement begins in an atmosphere of almost unbearable loneliness, the other instruments gradually joining the violin as the music ascends to a searing climax. Near the end of the Intermezzo, the piano foreshadows the theme of the Finale and then carries it, without stop, into the fifth movement proper. This is the most ambiguous of all five movements – is it really as simple and cheerful as it seems, or can we detect an undercurrent of irony and discontent? As if to accentuate the ‘false smile’, one theme is a quotation of the tune traditionally played at the entrance of the clowns in the Russian circus. After a work that encompasses such extremes of emotion, the finale meanders its way to the end, with echoes of the Viennese salon, concluding as if with an indifferent shrug.
© Schubert Ensemble
Robert Schumann: Piano Quintet in E Flat Major Op.44 (1842)
In 1840 Schumann finally married the love of his life, Clara Wieck. This joyous occasion inspired several years of extraordinary creativity. 1840 itself has been dubbed the “year of song”, since he composed over 140 songs in the one year. The following year saw Schumann turn his attention to orchestral music, and 1842 became the year of chamber music, witnessing the production of three string quartets, the piano quartet and this piano quintet.
The Quintet occupies a pre-eminent place in the chamber music repertory, and is without doubt one of the most popular of all chamber works. With the exception of the dark, troubled second movement (perhaps storm clouds gathering over Schumann’s troubled psyche) the piece is consistently bright and sunny. It was given its premiere with Clara at the piano, and thereafter became a central item in her repertory. It is tempting to attribute the quintet’s overwhelming sense of exuberance and joy to Schumann’s love for his new wife, especially since it was effectively written for her to play.
Both the outer movements are characterised by energetic, bubbling writing and long, sweeping melodies. The scherzo and trio illustrates Schumann’s penchant for elusive beats, and contains two contrasting trio sections. After the haunting, somewhat funereal second movement, the scherzo provides a path back to the boisterous energy and overflowing good humour of the finale, which concludes the work in the spirit in which it began.
©Simon Blendis.
In 1840 Schumann finally married the love of his life, Clara Wieck. This joyous occasion inspired several years of extraordinary creativity. 1840 itself has been dubbed the “year of song”, since he composed over 140 songs in the one year. The following year saw Schumann turn his attention to orchestral music, and 1842 became the year of chamber music, witnessing the production of three string quartets, the piano quartet and this piano quintet.
The Quintet occupies a pre-eminent place in the chamber music repertory, and is without doubt one of the most popular of all chamber works. With the exception of the dark, troubled second movement (perhaps storm clouds gathering over Schumann’s troubled psyche) the piece is consistently bright and sunny. It was given its premiere with Clara at the piano, and thereafter became a central item in her repertory. It is tempting to attribute the quintet’s overwhelming sense of exuberance and joy to Schumann’s love for his new wife, especially since it was effectively written for her to play.
Both the outer movements are characterised by energetic, bubbling writing and long, sweeping melodies. The scherzo and trio illustrates Schumann’s penchant for elusive beats, and contains two contrasting trio sections. After the haunting, somewhat funereal second movement, the scherzo provides a path back to the boisterous energy and overflowing good humour of the finale, which concludes the work in the spirit in which it began.
©Simon Blendis.