| Concert - May 2007 |
| Written by Mike Bell |
| Tuesday, 01 May 2007 00:00 |
|
May 19th 2007 PROGRAMME NOTES by Michael Bell Franz (von) SUPPÉ Pique Dame ‘Queen of Spades’ Overture Francesco Ezecchiele Cavaliere Suppé-Demelli to give him his proper name, was a distant relative of Gaetano Donizetti. He was born in Dalmatia in 1819 and died in Vienna in 1895. As a boy Suppé was taken to Vienna where he was given music lessons by Mozart’s pupil Ignaz von Seyfried. He must also have been an accomplished singer, for in 1842 he made his debut in the role of Dulcamara in Donizetti’s opera L’Elisir d’Amore. Suppé wrote about 30 operettas as well as farces, ballet and other light-hearted works for the theatre. Though the bulk of this output is now almost totally forgotten, the overtures are still played today and Poet and Peasant may be considered one of the most famous overtures ever written. It was through the influence of Offenbach that true Viennese operetta was created, an early example of which was Suppé’s Die Kartenschlagerin(1862) which, after revision, reappeared as Pique Dame 22 years later. Tchaikovsky wrote an opera on the same subject (The Queen of Spades) based on a tragic novel by Pushkin. The Queen of Spades is, of course, the playing card which foretells bad luck and in the Russian opera there is a generous helping of it – an old lady dies of fright, a young girl drowns herself in the freezing water of the river Neva and her lover completes the hat-trick by stabbing himself. It is difficult to see how Suppé managed to transform this material into a comic opera, but the sparkling Overture, “overflowing with melodious élan”, suggests a less serious approach to the subject – and, like Tchaikovsky, he knew how to write a good tune. This enviable and sometimes undervalued gift, allied with his sureness of touch and command of orchestral resources enabled Suppé to rival the verve and gaiety of Johann Strauss and Offenbach. He was rarely wholly serious, but Suppé could be, and invariably was, entertaining. A great art. Antonin DVORÁK (1841 – 1904)
Concerto for Violoncello and orchestra in B minor, Op. 104 Soloist: NICK BYRNE Antonin Dvorák was lucky enough to be born in Bohemia, once described as “the most musical nation in Europe”. And if this was not enough, the country was noted for its dances and the excellence of its beer - Dvorák’s father was the local innkeeper. He also was the village butcher and a competent musician - a singer, fiddler and zither player. INTERVAL
Camille SAINT-SAENS Danse Macabre, Op. 40 Born in Paris in 1835 and died at Algiers in 1921, aged eighty-six, Saint-Saens studied at the Paris Conservatory, and privately under Gounod. For about twenty years he was organist of the Madeleine. An eminent French critic exclaimed, after the performance of a piece of Saint-Saens’ chamber music, That’s certainly bad music – but it’s well written. But Saint-Saens was an exceedingly clever and cultivated man. He was hardly less precocious than Mozart, both as a composer and pianist. He was not interested in expressing deep feeling through his art; but he was also a natural maker of music (I produce music as an apple-tree produces apples, he once remarked). Under Liszt’s influence Saint-Saens wrote a series of symphonic poems in which myths and legends are evoked in musical terms. Danse macabre (1874), based on the mediaeval imagery of the Dance of Death, bears the motto: Zig et Zig et Zig, la Mort en cadence
Frappant une tombe avec son talon, La Mort a minuit joue un air de danse, Zig et Zig et Zig, sur son violon. (Henri Cazalis 1840-1909)
A sinister dance introduced by the striking of midnight (horns and harp) and Death tuning his fiddle: "The winter wind blows, the night is dark. The lime trees groan aloud." The waltz, which has the usual trio section, becomes increasingly hectic:
White skeletons flit across the gloom, running and leaping beneath their huge shrouds
their rattling of bones are suggested by the xylophone.
But suddenly the dance is ended. The circles of corpses holding hands and the dancing skeletons take flight as the cock crows at daybreak.
Bedrich SMETANA Má Vlast – symphonic poems No.2 Vltava
The “father of Bohemian music” was born in Bohemia in 1824 and died at Prague in 1884, aged sixty. His father was the manager of as brewery and a keen amateur musician. The child showed unusually early ability, playing in a Haydn String Quartet at the age of five and later showing remarkable ability as a pianist. His further studies were carried out at Prague where he established himself as a fashionable teacher. The Czech National Theatre was founded in 1862 and four years later he became its first musical director. At a time when his country was still dominated by the Austrian Empire and national morale was low, Smetana vividly expressed patriotic feelings, no more so than in My Fatherland - a cycle of six symphonic poems celebrating the rich history of Bohemia. Despite financial difficulties, lack of critical recognition and the onset of deafness, between 1874 and 1879 Smetana produced this remarkable work, which is performed at the Prague Spring festival every year. The second of the symphonic poems follows the course of the River Vltava. It is written in distinct sections which, although played without a break, are readily identifiable: 1. The source of the river is two streams, one cold, the other warm. 2. The river passes through fields and woods. The horns of a hunting party are heard. 3. Village festivals – a wedding party dance a polka. 4. Water nymphs are dancing by moonlight. 5. Great houses and ruins are seen on the cliffs above the rapids of St. John. 6. The river passes through Prague overlooked by the castle of Vysehrad. 7. The river Vltava disappears in the distance as it joins the River Elbe. Smetana’s end was sad. He never heard the last four symphonic poems of the Ma Vlást for he became completely deaf. He lost his reason and died in an asylum and was buried in a cemetery on the legendary site of the castle Vysehrad, the title of the first piece in this cycle. Gioacchino Antonio ROSSINI William Tell (1829) – ballet music
Rossini was born at Pesaro in 1792 and died near Paris in 1868, aged seventy-six. His father was a town trumpeter and inspector of slaughter-houses, who supported the appearance of Napoleon’s troops in Northern Italy and was consequently thrown into jail. His mother took her young son to Bologna where she earned a living as a singer in comic opera. He studied cello and composition at Bologna Conservatory, where he developed a life-long admiration for the music of Mozart. He quickly made a name as an opera composer, his popularity being largely due to a sense of melody and a sense of humour. At the age of thirty-seven Rossini wrote William Tell, which was his thirty-sixth opera in nineteen years. Then, for the remaining forty years of his life, he virtually retired from composing. He spent the rest of his days enjoying himself – living in Bologna and Paris, entertaining his friends lavishly and having a mistress. William Tell is one of the longest operas in existence. The uncut version was performed in Paris in 1856, and it is said that it ran from 7p.m. until one in the morning. Being Rossini’s last opera he probably intended it to be his masterpiece, however long. The overture is an eternal favourite and a fine piece. The delectable Ballet Music, which this evening should finish well before midnight, is made up as follows: 1. Act 1 Pas de six Allegretto (the bridal couples dance). 2 Maestoso - Allegretto 3. Act 3 Tyrolean dance Allegretto (Chorus: Dancing light as a feather). 4. Act 3 Dance Allegro vivace 5. Act 3 Dance Allegretto 6. Act 3 Pas de Soldats Allegro brillante And to finish with – a puzzle to take away with you: The tune of the third piece in the ballet music is, of course, well known. The Scottish entertainer Andy Stewart wrote some words and used the tune for his song A Scottish Soldier. Presumably he was familiar with the Scottish pipe tune, The Green Hills of Tyrol. But did the tune originate in Switzerland? Is that where Rossini got it from and is that why he used it as a Tyrolean dance in William Tell? Did the Swiss tune “emigrate” to Scotland where it was converted for use by the bagpipes? Or did it go the other way? – the Scots get everywhere! Did a homesick Scotsman sing it after settling in the Tyrol? Were the locals dancing it when Rossini passed by? Our principal trumpeter is Scottish – he may know the answers. Do you? Answers on a postcard, please… |