Symphony Peview: Of late bloomers and letter writing, November 21 and 22, 2015

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If you consider his entire output, Johannes Brahms was an early bloomer. He reportedly wrote his first piano sonata at the age of 11, was touring as a pianist by 19, and was only 20 when Schumann sang of his virtues in the October 28, 1853, issue of the Neue Zeitschrift für Musik ("a young man over whose cradle Graces and Heroes have stood watch"). Heady stuff.

Brahms, the boy wonder, 1853

And yet as a symphonist Brahms got off to a late start. His "Symphony No. 1 in C minor," op. 68, which takes up half of this weekend's St. Louis Symphony Concerts (with David Robertson at the podium), wasn't performed until 1876 (when Brahms was 43) and wasn't published in final form until the following year. "Part of the problem," wrote Larry Rothe in program notes for the San Francisco Symphony, "was that Brahms was such a harsh critic of his own work. He honed his material until he was satisfied, and he held himself to tough standards. We are told that his desire to be worthy is what kept him from introducing a symphony before he was already into middle age. He was intimidated by Beethoven. 'You have no idea what it's like to hear the footsteps of a giant like that behind you,' he said, those footsteps resonating through his psyche, making him question if he could ever do anything on a par with the author of nine symphonies that seemed to define the limits of what music could express."

Listening to the magisterial opening of the Brahms First now, it seems astonishing that it could have sprung from the brain of a man consumed with self-doubt. It's such a strong statement and the rest of the movement is so filled with drama and so commanding, you'd think it would have drowned out the sound of Beethoven's footsteps.

The other movements are equally impressive. A lyrical Andante is next—featuring a graceful trio for oboe, violin, and horn—followed by a terpsichorean third movement marked un poco allegretto e grazioso. And then Brahms caps it all with a finale that radically changes the idea of what the fourth movement in a Romantic symphony should do.

"This movement," writes Tom Service in The Guardian, "is his solution to what he saw as the 19th century's symphonic problem—the tendency for the pieces to be weighted towards their opening allegros, to have worked out all their major structural tensions by the end of the first movement. Brahms's fourth movement is different: everything is at stake here. It's the longest part of the symphony, and from the outset, its drama is set out on a bigger stage than the previous three movements... On one hand, this music crowns the work's dramatic trajectory, but it also celebrates Brahms's own vanquishing of his symphonic demons. And if we've only the ears to hear it, we'll hear how completely he created something subtly, multi-dimensionally new."

Brett Dean
boosey.com

Speaking of new things, the only other work on this weekend's program is "The Lost Art of Letter Writing," a work for violin and orchestra from 2007 that's getting its SLSO premiere with these concerts. The composer is Brett Dean, whose "Testament (Music for 12 Violas)" and "Viola Concerto" had their local premieres with the orchestra last January.

At the time I thought Mr. Dean's concerto was rather lacking in substance, stretching a paucity of brief musical ideas out well past their modest breaking point. Whether that will be true of this latest work remains to be seen. Reviews of the piece have been positive, though, which bodes well. "The Lost Art of Letter Writing is a most sincere and substantial work," wrote Shirley Apthorp in The Financial Times in 2007. "[I]t is art which needs neither pretension nor gimmicks." In a review for The Guardian of the premiere recording of the piece by Sydney Symphony, Andrew Clements was even more enthusiastic. "Like the best works with literary subtexts," he wrote, "The Lost Art of Letter Writing can also be appreciated on its own purely abstract musical terms, and as a wonderfully idiomatic concerto inhabiting a post-Bergian musical world, it's as important an achievement as Dean's earlier Viola Concerto and one of the most significant recent additions to the violin-concerto repertoire."

Like many of Mr. Dean's compositions, "The Lost Art of Letter Writing" is what was once called "program music" in that it is inspired by and specifically refers to non-musical ideas. Specifically, the decline in letter writing and, indeed, in handwriting in general brought on by the ubiquity of computers. "A recent article in an Australian newspaper," writes Mr. Dean in his notes for his work at the Boosey and Hawkes web site, "points out that the proportion of personal letters amongst the total number of sent articles handled by the national postal authority, Australia Post, has declined from 50% in 1960 to 13% nowadays. Sure, we stay in touch arguably more than ever, via telephone, email and messaging, but that too has undoubtedly changed the nature of communicating."

"Each movement," he continues, "is prefaced by an excerpt from a 19th Century letter of one kind or another, ranging from private love-letter to public manifesto. Each title refers to the place and year the letter was written. The violin plays the alternate roles of both an author and a recipient of letters, but perhaps more importantly, the solo part conjures something of the mood of each of the different letters."

SLSO program annotator Paul Schiavo has some interesting things to say about "The Lost Art of Letter Writing" as does blogger Eddie Silva in a blog entry that includes an interview with SLSO violist Woehr. If you're planning to attend this weekend, they're both worth your time.

In the solo role for these concerts will be English violinist Jack Liebeck. Mr. Liebeck is professor of violin at the Royal Academy of Music and is the Artistic Director of Oxford May Music Festival (a festival of "Music, Science, and the Arts"), who comes to us with a string of good notices, several of which are quoted at his web site. Reviewing his performance of the Dvorak "Violin Concerto" last month with the Halle Orchestra, for example, Bachtrack praised his "deep understanding" of the music. "With a sound that is considerably versatile and of a beautiful sonority in the lower register, he called forth a rich soundscape which met the challenges of the concerto." In a similar vein Ken Walton, writing in The Scotsman last December, enthused about Mr. Liebeck's "nimble technique and purity of tone."

The essentials: David Robertson conducts the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra, with violinst Jack Liebeck, on Saturday at 8 p.m. and Sunday at 3 p.m., November 21 and 22. The concerts take place at Powell Symphony Hall, 718 North Grand in Grand Center. For more information: stlsymphony.org.

Testementary evidence

Brett Dean

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Who: The St. Louis Symphony conducted by David Robertson, with viola soloist Brett Dean
What: Music by Brett Dean and Beethoven
When: Friday and Saturday, January 24 and 25
Where: Powell Symphony Hall

The symphony's "Beethoven Festival" continues this week with a powerful reading of Beethoven's "Symphony No. 3 in E-flat major, op. 55," (the "Eroica") and brilliant performances of two new works composed by viola soloist Brett Dean, one of which is inspired by Beethoven.

"Testament (Music for 12 Violas)," the concert opener, is the one inspired by Beethoven—specifically by his famous "Heiligenstadt Testament." That is, as most classical fans will recall, a letter Beethoven wrote to his brothers Carl and Johann at the town of Heiligenstadt (now part of Vienna) in which he told of his despair over his increasing deafness and his struggles with thoughts of suicide.

As David Robertson points out in his brief but highly informative opening remarks, composer Dean takes us into Beethoven's auditory world by having the twelve violists play, at first, with rosinless bows. Without rosin to give it friction, the bow glides over the strings, producing what Mr. Dean describes as "an eerie surface noise over the strings." Watching musicians sawing away at their instruments and producing this ghostly sound, then, gives us a feel for what Beethoven might have experienced as his sonic world began to fade away.

It's an interesting conceit and it lends the piece an emotional power that's accentuated by the occasional emergence from the auditory fog of snatches of the first of the "Razumovsky" Quartets—one of many major works (including the "Eroica") that emerged from the crucible of Heiligenstadt. Beethoven's despair and defiance are both audible in "Testament," which got a remarkable performance by the orchestra's violists along with guest artists Caleb Burhans of the contemporary music group Alarm Will Sound, International Contemporary Ensemble member Wendy Richman, and Margaret Dyer and Emily Deans of the camber ensemble A Far Cry.

Mr. Dean's own "Viola Concerto" followed, and I must confess that I found it rather less compelling. Reviewing the world premiere of the concerto by the BBC Symphony in 2005, Andrew Clements of The Guardian described it as "a substantial affair, elegantly proportioned and full of colourful musical imagery." I'd agree that it's substantial, but the substance is, to my ears, all too similar to the work of many other composers of recent vintage, who seem determined to stretch a paucity of brief musical ideas out well past their modest breaking point. There is, moreover, a sameness to that colorful imagery that made it hard to sustain interest in the proceedings.

There is, in short, a great deal of sound and fury in this work, along with a rather spectacular semi-cadenza in the second movement that gave Mr. Dean an opportunity to display his considerable skill on the instrument. For the most, though, I found it all uninvolving, if not off-putting. The final section, featuring a slightly melancholy duet for the soloist and English horn (beautifully played by Cally Banham) was, for me, the best part of this work.

If Heiligenstadt marked a "dark night of the soul" for Beethoven, he clearly emerged from it artistically stronger, with his own unique compositional voice. His first two symphonies were largely in the mold of Haydn and Mozart. But with the "Eroica" Beethoven created, as Paul Schiavo writes in his program notes, "a new musical genre, the Romantic symphony." Those first two big chords are almost like a gauntlet thrown down to challenge established notions of what a symphony should be, and they take us forever out of the Classical era.

Mr. Robertson and the orchestra gave us a thoroughly admirable "Eroica" Friday night. Always an active presence on the podium, Mr. Robertson threw himself into that dynamic, propulsive first movement in a way that produced a tremendously exciting and visceral sense of drama. The funeral march of the second movement exuded tragic grandeur, the scherzo was fleet of foot (with excellent work from the horns), and the grand musical architecture of the finale was beautifully realized. It was altogether as powerful an "Eroica" as one would wish for and brought the concert to a happy conclusion.

Next at Powell Hall, the "Beethoven Festival" concludes with the fifth symphonies of Beethoven and Shostakovich conducted by Jaap van Zweden. Performances are Friday and Saturday at 8 PM and Sunday at 3 PM, January 31 – February 2. For more information: stlsymphony.org.

For more information on the music, check out the symphony program notes and my symphony preview article.

New testament

The title page of the "Eroica." 
Beethoven crossed out the original dedication to Napoleon
so angrily he tore the paper.

This weekend's St. Louis Symphony concerts continue the "Beethoven Festival" as David Robertson returns to the podium for the first time in the new year to conduct a newly minted viola concerto and two works directly related to Beethoven's famous 1802 "Heiligenstadt Testament."  One—the "Symphony No. 3 in E-flat major, op. 55," known as the "Eroica"—is by Beethoven and the other by the composer of the viola concerto, Brett Dean.  Neat bit of theme programming, that.

But first, a bit of background on the "Heiligenstadt Testament."  It is, as most classical fans will recall, a letter Beethoven wrote to his brothers Carl and Johann at the town of Heiligenstadt (now part of Vienna) in which he told of his despair over his increasing deafness and his struggles with thoughts of suicide.  The letter was never delivered (it was found among his papers after his death in 1827) and seems, in retrospect, to have acted as a kind of catharsis for the composer.  Before the "Testament" he was a composer/pianist.  Afterwards, he would be exclusively a composer.

It also marked the beginning of the emergence of his unique compositional voice.  His first two symphonies were clearly in the mold of Haydn and Mozart.  But with the "Eroica" Beethoven created, as Paul Schiavo writes in his program notes, "a new musical genre, the Romantic symphony."

And what a symphony!  Those first two big chords are almost like a gauntlet thrown down to challenge established notions of what a symphony should be.  "A sense of energy and restless invention pervade [sic] the long opening movement," writes Mr. Schaivo. "Beethoven seems so full of creative fire that the usual first-movement design can scarcely contain his thoughts, and we find him continually overstepping its nominal boundaries.  As a result, this portion of the symphony has about it the feeling of an epic drama."

The drama continues with the heroic funeral march of the second movement, the restless energy of the third movement scherzo, and the towering finale—a set of elaborate variations followed by a powerful coda.  It clocks in at around fifty minutes, which no doubt seemed absurdly excessive to audiences accustomed to symphonies half that length.  "One early critic," writes the late Welsh musicologist David Wyn Morris, "described it as ‘a very long-drawn-out daring and wild fantasia' which, at least, reveals a response to its emotive power."

The finale is also a classic example of musical recycling.  The theme that serves as the basis for the variations was originally part of a set of twelve "Contredanses" Beethoven wrote between 1791 and 1802.  It seems to have been a favorite of his, popping up again in (among other places) his score for the 1802 ballet "The Creatures of Prometheus."  Composer and writer Derek Strahan has suggested that Beethoven saw it as a "hero" theme.  It certainly becomes heroic in the course of the final movement of the "Eroica."

Brett Dean

The second work inspired by the "Heiligenstadt Testament" was written two centuries after the first one.  It's "Testament (Music for 12 Violas)" by violist/composer Brett Dean, first performed in Berlin in 2003 and getting its local premiere this weekend by symphony violists along with guest violists Caleb Burhans of the contemporary music group Alarm Will Sound, International Contemporary Ensemble member Wendy Richman, and Margaret Dyer and Emily Deans of the chamber ensemble A Far Cry.

Quoted in the symphony program, Mr. Dean notes that Beethoven's despair over his deafness could have paralyzed him artistically but "the realization that his [Beethoven's] complete deafness was imminent, ironically also marked the beginning of one of the most creative phases in his compositional life, leading quickly to the Eroica Symphony, the ‘Razumovsky' Quartets and other thoroughly revolutionary scores. His time in Heiligenstadt, then, was a leave-taking, an acceptance and a fresh start."  Quotes from the first "Razumovsky" quartet show up in this piece, in fact, which moves from agitation, through sorrow, to what the composer describes as "implied anguish."  The final bars are "suspended somewhere between languor and resolve."

"Testament" opens the concerts this weekend, followed by Mr. Dean's 2005 "Viola Concerto" with the composer as soloist.  It's laid out in three movements titled, in order, "Fragment," "Pursuit," and "Veiled and Mysterious."  Reviewing the world premiere of the concerto by the BBC Symphony in 2005, Andrew Clements of The Guardian described it as "a substantial affair, elegantly proportioned and full of colourful musical imagery."  Writing for The Times, John Allison declared that the composer "has written something as personal as one would expect. The haunting and arresting sounds are all his own, and bright colours suggest a strong connection to his country's landscape. Indeed, the peaceful close, in which the previously hectic solo viola emerges purified, evokes a lullaby in which the earth seems to be singing itself to sleep."  Seems rather appropriate for the season in which, to quote Lewis Carroll, the snow covers the landscape "with a white quilt; and perhaps it says ‘Go to sleep, darlings, till the summer comes again.'"

The essentials: David Robertson conducts the St. Louis Symphony in Brett Dean's "Testament (Music for 12 Violas") from 2002 and his "Viola Concerto" from 2004 along with Beethoven's "Symphony No. 3 in E-flat major," op. 55, "Eroica" from 1803.  Performances are Friday and Saturday at 8 PM at Powell Symphony Hall in Grand Center. Following the Friday performance, the symphony presents “Ask David,” an informal Q and A with David Robertson on the Orchestra level of the Powell Hall. For more information: stlsymphony.org.  The Saturday concert will also be broadcast on St. Louis Public Radio at 90.7 FM, HD 1, and on line at stlouispublicradio.org.