Heights Chamber Orchestra Concert, Sunday February 25, 2001
Program Notes
Ottorino Respighi, (1879 - 1936)
Ancient Dances and Airs for Lute, Suite #1
The early part of the 20th Century saw an attempt by several young Italian composers to contest the hegemony of Giacomo Puccini, the great master of verismo, and to lower him from his monumental pedestal. Respighi was one of these frustrated rebels — nowadays known as the generazione dell’ottanta (the generation of composers born around 1890) .
Tired of melodramatic passion that marked works of the two preceding generations of composers, the younger composers reacted with a mixture of persistent defiance and, jealous of the immense financial success enjoyed by their elders, with often resentful fury.
A contemporary musicologist noted the contest as “the battle between a younger generation striving for the most intense spiritual life, and what is now the older generation , a generation that erects the foundation of its certain successes and lavish profits on its spiritual mediocrity.” Sound familiar?
But it wasn't just contempt for present decadence that inspired Respighi and his colleagues. They also feared the increasing influence of foreign culture — notably French and German — on Italian operatic life. They saw a threat to their own musical identity. In response, they set about ransacking libraries and archives, searching for treasures from Italy's cultural past. Tonight's work is representative of this rebellion and research.
Respighi’s achieved his first great success in 1907 with his arrangement of Monteverdi’s Lamento d’Arianna, which he followed in 1917, 1923 and 1931 with three suites which were arrangements of l6th and l7th century lute music. He published them under the title Antiche danze ed arie per liuto, subtitled “Trascrizione libera per orchestra”, meaning “freely transcribed for orchestra.” The four separated movements total about 15 minutes of playing time.
Ludwig van Beethoven (1770-1827)
Symphony No. 8 in F Major, Op. 93
It is appropriate that we hear this wonderful musical work tonight, created in 1812 and first performed February 27, 1814, some 187 years ago. It’s almost an anniversary.
Surprisingly, this cheerful symphony was largely composed during a period of Beethoven family strife. Ludwig, a Puritan in matters sexual, strongly disapproved of a liaison his 35-year old brother, Johann was enjoying with his (Johann’s) young housekeeper. Ludwig even traveled to Johann's home in Linz to obtain a police order that the girl move out. Johann resolved the issue by marrying her but not before an ugly confrontation ensued between the brothers. During this travail, Ludwig was completing both his Seventh and the jovial Eighth Symphonies.
The premiere of the Seventh in December, 1813, was one of the most successful concerts of Beethoven's life, establishing him without question as the greatest living composer — though the work that ignited the audience's enthusiasm that night was the potboiler Wellington’s Victory, (named “...a lucrative breadwork.” by the composer and which was also enjoying its premiere.
When Beethoven premiered the Eighth two months later, he sandwiched it between repeats of the Seventh and Wellington's Victory. The size and visceral energy of the Seventh simply overwhelmed the audience but Beethoven was fully aware of the smaller work’s value. When his pupil, Carl Czerny, remarked that the Eighth was less popular than the Seventh, Beethoven replied gruffly, “That’s because it’s so much better.”
An observation: The second movement is thought to be a humorous homage to Beethoven’s friend, Johann Mälzel, inventor of the metronome, a device Beethoven found invaluable in giving composers, for the first time, a way to specify precise tempos for their music. The movement is filled with humorous touches (including a suggestion at the end that the mechanical marvel has broken down).
This bright work, somewhere near 27 minutes in length, shows Beethoven in what he liked to call his emotional aufgeknöpft (unbuttoned) state of high spirits. He said, “Many a vigorous and unconsidered word drops from my mouth and so I am considered mad....I hope still to bring a few great works into the world and then, like an old child, to end my earthly career somewhere among good people.”
Aaron Copland (1900-1990)
Three Latin-American Sketches
Latin America had a particular appeal for Copland, and it may have been his friendship with Carlos Chávez that drew him to Mexico, first in 1932 and frequently in later years. His delight and interest in Mexico is reflected in his music, including El Salón México (1936) and the Three Latin American Sketches for small orchestra. The second and third movements for this had been written in 1959, with the first movement, “Estribillo”, composed last for Andre Kostelanetz who premiered the work in 1972 with the New York Philharmonic. The movements all use traditional Latin American tunes and, much as he did with El Sálon México, Copland adds metrical interest and dissonance, reworking and developing the pre-existing material.
But Mexico was not Copland’s only Latin American interest. In the early 1940s, he made friends with eminent South American composers and, in 1947, toured South America for the State Department. He said that he envisioned “American music” as music of the Americas.
Of his “Sketches”, Copland said: “The tunes, the rhythms, and the temperament of the pieces are folksy, while the orchestration is bright and snappy and the music sizzles along — or at least it seems to me that it does.”
Program notes compiled by Walter Nicholes from various sources including Grove, Britannica and the Web, January 29, 2001