SUNDAY, JULY 24 ALFRED SCHNITTKE (1934-1998) (K)ein Sommernachtstraum
Premiered on August 12, 1985, at the Salzburg Festival under the direction of Leopold Hager. Remember the 2007 Disney movie Enchanted, where fairy tale characters are banned “to a place where there are no happy endings” — the harsh reality of New York City? In Schnittke’s case, the sound world of a young Mozart (simple minuet) is transported into a modern-day festival atmosphere (marches). The composer’s trademark polystylism perfectly captures this musical culture clash. Having spent some of his teenage years in Vienna, Schnittke had no lack of inspiration for this piece. His prior connections with the Salzburg Festival provided him with another set of memories — albeit not-so-happy ones. Schnittke explains in his program notes that “in 1977, Gidon Kremer played Beethoven’s Violin Concerto with my cadenza, provoking a strong outcry from the press…and in 1978, I provoked another storm of disapproval in the press there on account of my arrangement of Silent Night (‘a desecration of culture’).” This might explain the dark undertones and the pun of the title — (K)ein Sommernachtstraum [(Not) a Midsummer Night’s Dream]. As to the allusion to Shakespeare, the composer freely admits that, “it has no direct connection.” But what about the Mozartian minuet/rondo? Schnittke might have exasperated his Salzburg critics further, stating that “I did not steal all the ‘antiquities’ in this piece; I faked them.” WOLFGANG AMADEUS MOZART (1756-1791) Concerto for Violin and Orchestra No. 4 in D major, K. 218
“I played as if I were the greatest fiddler in all of Europe,” Mozart proudly wrote to his father from Munich. To which his father, who literally wrote the book on violin playing, replied (probably exasperated): “You yourself do not know how well you play the violin; if only you will do yourself credit and play with energy, with your whole heart and mind, yes, just as if you were the first violinist in Europe. Many people do not even know that you play the violin, since you have been known from childhood as a keyboard player.” Such is the life of a multi-talented genius with an overbearing father, who happens to be one of the great violin teachers of his generation. And thus ended his budding career as violinist, for not long after this exchange the young Mozart quit the violin and focused solely on the keyboard, choosing to play the viola in chamber music settings (did he do that to spite his father?). Fortunately, he had already composed five violin concertos, presumably for himself. He never wrote another violin concerto for the rest of his life. In his Fourth Violin Concerto, Mozart explores new ways to juxtapose the violin against the orchestra. Initially, the solo violin enters surprisingly in a high register, making it stand out against the orchestra. To drive the point of unusual registers home, Mozart places the second theme as low as possible on the violin. In the slow movement, Mozart transcends the genre, as he lets the soloist “sing” one of the most beautiful arias every composed for the instrument. The dazzling last movement is full of surprises. Cutting back and forth between a graceful Andante and a spirited Jig, he suddenly shifts to a simple folk dance, which includes “bag pipes.” But the zinger comes toward the end of the dance,
when Mozart introduces an absolute no-no: simultaneous cross relation (a fancy term for what we might now call blue notes — in this case sounding the notes g and g# at the same time). After briefly “sticking out his tongue” (maybe to his father), Mozart ends the piece without further transgressions. CÉSAR FRANCK (1822-1890) Symphony in D minor
Premiered on February 17, 1889, at the Paris Conservatoire under the direction of Jules Garcin. By the late 1880s Franck was in the twilight of a long and successful career as virtuoso organist, teacher, and composer. It would be easy to look at Franck’s only symphony as a summation of his compositional career and his musical testament — as colleagues, students, and friends celebrate the aging master. While the parts about the summation and musical testament are true, the bit about celebration and appreciation is, unfortunately, not. Sadly, factions within the Conservatoire and the broader public made it impossible for Franck’s symphony to receive a fair hearing. Conductor Charles Lamoreux flat-out refused its performance, and rehearsals by the Conservatoire orchestra were contentious, as various factions of students and faculty alike used this work to settle some scores. Even Franck’s wife got involved — and not in his favor! And so Franck proved the dictum to be true that “the prophet is not accepted in his hometown.” Once the symphony got outside of the Paris city walls, however, it quickly became a huge success in Europe and beyond. A closer look at the score quickly reveals the work of a mature master who not only had a deep understanding of the history of the symphony, but was able to add new and fascinating elements. The symphony begins with a three-note motive eerily similar to the opening question of Beethoven last string quartet: “Ist es wahr?” (Is it true?). And like Brahms’s Third Symphony, composed only five years earlier, the short opening motive becomes the work’s motto. In fact, at the end of the first movement, the opening question screams at us — with no answers in sight. Franck then surprises us with a second movement that fulfills the role of both inner movements of a typical symphony. It opens slowly, as expected. Yet half-way through the movement fast figurations infuse scherzo elements. The cathartic finale brings back the work’s main themes, leading the work to a glorious and convincing ending. -Siegwart Reichwald
“The goal of my life is to unify serious music and light music, even if I break my neck in doing so.” - Alfred Schnittke
2016 Summer Institute & Festival
99