Program Notes for Shadows and Light
Featuring Nadja Salerno- |
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart Bernard Hermann Alexander Borodin Clarice Assad Johann Strauss, Jr.
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Eine Kleine Nachtmusik (“A Little Night Music”), K. 525 (1787)
by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
This ever-popular composition is Mozart’s last contribution to the serenade genre. We’re not sure why he wrote it. Nor do we know the piece in its complete form (it once contained a second minuet and trio that have somehow been lost). The work’s scoring raises further questions. Mozart’s manuscript says “2 violins, viola, cello and bass,” which could mean a string quintet. Yet these days, Eine Kleine Nachtmusik is most frequently performed by a string orchestra, because the music (especially the first movement) seems to be more in an orchestral than in a chamber style.
It is odd that there should be such riddles connected to a work that sounds so delightfully unproblematic. At first hearing, as well as the one-thousandth time, no music sounds simpler than Eine Kleine Nachtmusik. But this is a sophisticated simplicity, which Mozart could achieve only after completing some of his most complex works, such as the operas The Marriage of Figaro and Don Giovanni, the great piano concertos and the six string quartets dedicated to Haydn. With such experiences behind him, Mozart knew how to limit himself to the bare essentials and to say the most with the fewest possible notes.
For anyone new to Classical music, there is no better place to start. The music student trying to grasp the elements of classical forms (sonata, minuet, and rondo) could hardly find clearer examples. And even the seasoned music lover and the professional musician must marvel again and again at a perfection that almost defies description.
The work’s four extant movements seem to offer a compendium of Classical music in a nutshell. The opening Allegro (fast), with its energetic beginning and lyrical contrast materials, is the best demonstration of what sonata form is, with its well-planned alternation of themes developed and then brought back in their original form. The sweet main melody of the second-movement Romanze is followed by a passionately romantic middle section, after which the exquisite first theme returns. The Minuet and Trio are short and are distinguished by the lack of anything distinctive. No metric irregularities here and no sudden modulations; yet even without such surprises, the music never seems trivial. The spirited rondo finale, in which a recurrent main theme alternates with some episodes, concludes the work in a festive manner. Like the entire Nachtmusik, it is supreme entertainment on an artistic level that only Mozart could attain.
Psycho: A Suite for String Orchestra (1960)
by Bernard Herrmann
One of the icons of cinematic history, Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho owed more than a little of its power to Bernard Herrmann’s score, a musical masterpiece in its own right. If Hitchcock was the undisputed master of suspense, Herrmann matched the director’s sense for drama with a musical idiom derived from 20th-century serious concert music but adapted to the needs of the big screen.
Memorably, Psycho was shot in black and white. Herrmann later recalled: “I knew that musically I had to counter-reinforce his decision, and I decided to use only string instruments throughout the entire
movie.” Yet just as black-and-white did not represent a limitation for Hitchcock, the composer was able to achieve incredible timbral variety with his violins, violas, cellos and basses. The sound that no one who has ever seen the movie will ever forget is the series of screeching single notes in the high register of the violins, accompanying the murder of Marion Crane in the shower. It is preceded by the agitated music of Marion’s frantic drive with the stolen money. These two famous mo-ments exemplify one of the most interesting novelties about Herrmann’s approach to film music: his themes don’t portray characters as they did in earlier movie scores, but rather actions. And since the latter are rather extreme in Psycho, the music, too, pushes the envelope in terms of harmony, rhythm and playing technique.
Nocturne from String Quartet No. 2 in D Major (1881)
by Alexander Borodin
Alexander Borodin, author of the great Russian national opera Prince Igor, successfully pursued a dual career in music and chemistry. His scientific work—both as a researcher and a teacher—was highly regarded in his time, and he was very close to Dmitri Mendeleyev, the creator of the periodic table of the elements. As a composer he was largely self-taught, but his talent was recognized by the best professional musicians in the country, as well as distinguished foreigners such as Franz Liszt. (He was a member of what was known as the Mighty Handful, a group of composers that also included Balakirev, Mussorgsky, Rimsky-Korsakov and Cui.)
Borodin left a relatively small but varied body of work, which includes (aside from his opera), several symphonic works, songs, and chamber music, including two string quartets. Along with Tchaikovsky, Borodin was one of the first to introduce string quartets to Russia.
The present Nocturne is the slow movement of Borodin’s String Quartet No. 2, written in 1881. Although Borodin lived for another six years, he completed no more major works after the quartet, owing to his busy schedule and family obligations. But whereas many of his projects (including Prince Igor) remained incomplete, there was an important motivation for him to finish this quartet. It was a gift to his wife, Yekaterina (Catherine) on the 20th anniversary of their first meeting.
The entire four-movement work is an intensely personal document, but the third-movement Nocturne, which today is often performed separately, is even more emphatically private. Its beguiling Romantic melody is first introduced by the cello, the instrument Borodin had played in his youth. It is then taken over by the first violin in its high register—an instrumental love duet if ever there was one. This theme never stays away for very long as it is woven into even the middle section, where it grows more passionate. Particularly revealing is the recapitulation, where the violin repeats the melody exactly one beat after the cello, as if Yekaterina were echoing her husband’s words. Later the situation is reversed, with the first violin taking the lead and the instrument playing in a lower register (this time the second violin) following behind. It is
an exquisite love scene, touching in its simplicity and wonderfully intimate character.
Dreamscapes
by Clarice Assad
Dreamscapes is a musical depiction of what happens during a dream. Its form is loosely based upon my research on the subject of rapid eye movement (REM) and lucid dreaming. Dreamscapes follows a story line, which I developed by taking notes about my own dreams. While this was a fantastic new experience for me, it also presented quite a few challenges, such as how to organize all of these imageries, abstract thoughts and sensations into a cohesive piece of music.
Fortunately, the solution presented itself once I realized that, while I dreamed, I was always present. Either as myself, or as an observer, my main desire was often to have a pleasant dreaming experience. However, once deeply into the dream, I would find myself drifting away from pleasant sensations to whatever else my unconscious suggested. This content was unsurprisingly negative, since we are bombarded everyday with bad news: war headlines, economic crisis and harmful thoughts which stay in our subconscious. On several occasions, I caught myself fighting to return to nice feelings of contentment, but, more often than not, I would lose the battle and completely surrender to the power of the negative suggestions.
This notion of awareness versus subconscious motivated me to apply different roles to the instruments within the orchestra. The solo violin represents self-awareness, while the orchestra represents the unconscious mind, providing the scenario changes throughout the piece. Dreamscapes begins with a series of colorful effects that symbolize the moments prior to falling sleep, when the dreamer is still conscious enough to have power over their own thoughts.
A slow theme is introduced, symbolizing the initial pleasant dream, created by the dreamer’s desire. The theme is gradually dispersed as the dreamer goes deeper into sleep, losing consciousness and power.
After the first REM has fully completed, the dreamer again has the power to take control over the dream. This time, the dreamer is able to fulfill that desire, depicted by the recurrence of the slow theme, but a new character is introduced into the dream (represented by a solo cello melodic line). The solo cello and violin have a passionate encounter, which is lost abruptly as the unconscious mind takes over
yet again. This fierce struggle between the self and unconscious eventually leads to a sequence of horrific events, similar to what one experiences during a nightmare.
Dreamscapes relies highly on visual imagery as it draws from emotional content, rich contrasting ideas, and recurring themes.
The dreamer represents peacefulness, harmony, and beauty, while the unconscious is always forcing negative scenarios. The solo violin, a forceful and constant presence within the piece, battles its way through a maze of unpredictability and uncertainty as it ventures to adapt and adjust to the constant transmutations of the dream.
—Clarice Assad
Die Fledermaus Overture (1874)
by Johann Strauss, Jr.
The title of Die Fledermaus (“The Bat”), that most beloved of Viennese operettas, refers to the costume worn by one of the characters (a very different kind of “Batman”) at a masked ball. In this delightful comedy, Gabriel von Eisenstein, a gentleman who has gotten into some minor trouble with the law, must spend a few nights in jail. However, his lovely wife Rosalinda is entertaining a visitor during her husband’s absence; in order to avoid scandal, the lover must pretend he is the husband and go to jail in his stead. In the meantime, Eisenstein is at a ball, where Rosalinda (wearing a mask) and her chamber maid Adele (wearing one of Rosalinda’s dresses) unexpectedly appear. Eisenstein starts flirting outrageously with the unknown beauty, not realizing that it is his own wife, while Adele convinces everyone that she is a noble lady. This story of mistaken identities and marital infidelities is told with an abundance of sparkling melodies that lose nothing of their charm.
Program notes by Peter Laki, professor of music at Bard College, who has been a program annotator for many years of the Cleveland Orchestra.
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