Symphony Notes: Rites of spring

In the early days of this Symphony Notes series, I had the somewhat ambitious goal of providing program notes for virtual recreations of planned (but cancelled) St. Louis Symphony Orchestra (SLSO) performances. The idea was to give you links to performances of the scheduled works using Spotify playlists provided by the SLSO and/or YouTube links uncovered by Detective Google.

This week, I have discovered the limitations of that approach.

Pierre Jalbert

The program originally scheduled for this weekend (May 8 and 9) would have consisted of the SLSO premieres of Pierre Jalbert's brief tone poem "Music of Air and Fire" and Guillaume Connesson's Cello Concerto, followed by a complete performance of Stravinsky's savage ballet "Le Sacre du Printemps" ("The Rite of Spring"). Finding links for the Stravinsky is easy enough; the SLSO's Spotify playlist has a performance by Vasily Petrenko and the Liverpool Philharmonic described by The Gramophone as " fierce, taut reading" with "a thumping good bass drum." What proved to be less easy was coming up with recordings of the other two pieces.

The Jalbert piece, which dates from 2007, runs around six minutes, so the four-minute excerpt from a 2016 performance by the Vermont Youth Orchestra under Jeff Domoto is as close to complete as you can get.

On his web site, Jalbert describes the work as consisting of two "contrasting ideas: one of quiet lyricism (air), and one of faster, more aggressive music (fire).":

The "air" music comes first and features the percussionists bowing their instruments in order to create a wafting, ethereal sound. This gradually turns into the "fire" music and features the percussionists playing various sets of drums in a more pulse-oriented, rhythmic manner.

The VYO recording consists of only the "fire" section, and there's no doubt that it fully delivers the driving, powerful rhythms Jalbert describes. As the curtain raiser for an evening that was to conclude with "Sacre," it feels completely appropriate.

Guillaume Connesson
Photo by Fanny Houillon

Connesson's Cello Concerto is an even bigger challenge. I couldn't find a complete recording at Amazon ("not even for ready money," to quote Lane in "The Importance of Being Earnest") or Spotify. YouTube yields only a performance of the fifth (final) movement (marked "Orgiaque," or "Orgiastic") by soloist Jérôme Pernoo (to whom the work is dedicated) and the Orchestre National du Capitole de Toulouse conducted by Tugan Sokhiev. It's from a broadcast of the 2016 Victoires de la Musique Classique awards, an annual French equivalent of the Classical BRIT Awards. It would be like a Grammy Award program devoted only to the classics, if we had one.

In his description of the work on his publisher's web site, Connesson describes this movement as "une danse finale, joyeuse et violemment rythmique" ("a final dance, joyous and violently rhythmic"), and you can certainly hear that in Pernoo's highly charged and stunningly virtuosic performance. If this doesn't make you want to move, then, to quote the title of a 1947 Louis Jordan single, "Jack, You're Dead." It's a pity we won't get to see noted French cellist Gautier Capuçon play the complete work with the SLSO and Maestro Denève, but this at least gives you a taste of it.

Stravinsky in 1903
By Unknown Photograf -
archives de FinitoR
Public Domain, Link

As for "Le Sacre du Printemps," there's not much I can add to the volumes that have already been written about this revolutionary and compelling work. The third in a series of series of successful collaborations between Stravinsky and impresario Serge Diaghilev's Ballets Russes (the previous two being "The Firebird" from 1910 and "Petruska" from 1911), "Sacre" was, like its predecessors, inspired by Russian folk elements.

Unlike them, its first performance--at the newly opened Théâtre des Champs-Elysées on May 29, 1913, with Pierre Monteux conducting--became a notorious succès de scandale. "It is arguably," writes Paul-John Ramos at classic.net, "the most famous debacle in western artistic history":

Audience members found the quiet, yet active, introduction ridiculous. When the curtain rose and [choreographer Vaslav] Nijinsky's dances began, the auditorium went into a rage, their sophistication insulted. Ravel and Debussy were both present and captivated by the music, but it was soon drowned out in the fracas. Debris was thrown, as well as punches. The work was performed in full, but only with the help of Nijinsky calling steps from atop an offstage chair.

Standing next to him was the composer, who had abandoned his seat in the theatre in disgust at the uproar. "Naturally, the poor dancers could hear nothing," he recalled later, "by reason of the row in the auditorium and the sound of their own dance steps. I had to hold Nijinsky by his clothes--he was furious and ready to dash on the stage at any moment and create a scandal."

Later performances were less riotous. In fact, when Monteux conducted a concert performance in the Casino de Paris the following year, Stravinsky was carried from the hall in triumph on the shoulders of audience members. Today the music sounds less radical but still packs a tremendous dramatic punch, as was the case when David Robertson opened the 2011-2012 SLSO season with it.

There are so many great performances of "Sacre" (both with and without dancers) for free on line that you could grow old and die listening to and/or watching every one. The Petrenko/Liverpool performance the SLSO has selected is a winner, but listening to it with the Spotify app, with its mandatory "shuffle" playback mode (happily absent on the desktop version), can be a trial.

Other options for the concert version include Jaap van Zweden conducting a wonderfully precise performance of the composer's 1947 revision at the Concertgebouw in Amsterdam and a high-intensity reading by the Radio France Philharmonic under Mikko Franck. Both boast great sound and videography that gives you close-up views of soloists impossible to achieve in real life. For a deeper dive into the music, there's a version of Leonard Bernstein's 1958 New York Philharmonic recording synchronized with pages from the score.

Supports and membes of the Ballets Russes
By General Nicolas Besobrasov (died 1912)
printed in book, 'Nijinsky' by Richard Buckle,1971,
Weidenfeld and Nickolson, London.,
Public Domain, Link

As for videos of the ballet itself, you can see not one but two recreations of Nijinsky's original choreography performed by the Orchestra and dancers of the Ballet Mariinski Theater under Valery Gergiev at the Mariinski Theater in 2008 and at the Théâtre des Champs-Elysées in 2013. The sound and videography are great in both cases. It's as close as you'll ever get to seeing what so excited and outraged audiences over a century ago.

For a radically different take on the ballet, check out Pina Bausch's typically idiosyncratic choreography by the Wuppertaler Tanztheater from 1978. The quality of the recorded sound is mediocre and Bausch's approach will come across as either revelatory or ridiculous depending on your taste, but its originality is remarkable in any case. You can also view versions by noted French choreographer Maurice Béjart and a massive 250-dancer production employing multiple companies with choreography by Royston Maldoom accompanied by the Berlin Philharmonic under Sir Simon Rattle.

OK, so I had more to say about "Le Sacre du Printemps" than I thought. In any case, you have a plethora of resources here for your homebrew re-creation of this weekend's original concert. Listen, watch, and enjoy. It would have been the SLSO's regular season finale, but the orchestra is scheduled to resume their regular concert season in September. Season tickets are on sale now.

This article originally appeared at 88.1 KDHX, where Chuck Lavazzi is the senior performing arts critic.

Review: Gilbert Varga forms a close French connection with the SLSO

This article originally appeared at 88.1 KDHX, where Chuck Lavazzi is the senior performing arts critic.

Gilbert Varga
Photo courtesy of St. Louis Symphony Orchestra

This past Saturday (March 23, 2019) was the fourth time I've seen Gilbert Varga conduct the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra and, once again, I came away impressed with the combination of high drama and pinpoint precision he brings to his interpretations.

[Find out more about the music with my symphony preview.]

The last time I saw Mr. Varga in action, it was with an all-Russian program in 2016. This time the music was French, but the performances were every bit as compelling, beginning with a pristine romp through Dukas's popular "The Sorcerer's Apprentice."

Conducting without a score, Mr. Varga treated the audience to a beautifully detailed and vibrant performance that reminded me once again of just what an effective piece of musical comedy this little tone poem is. Individual orchestral details were finely wrought, including the growling voice of the animated broom in Andrew Cuneo's bassoon section and the dramatic proclamations from Thomas Jöstlein's horns.

It may be that, as Paul Schiavo writes in his program notes, the work has become "simply the soundtrack to a clever cartoon" because of the expert job Disney's people did animating it back in 1937, but it's still a delight to hear even if it's hard to banish visions of Mickey Mouse from your head.

Up next was Édouard Lalo's Cello Concerto in D minor, written in 1876 for the Belgian cellist Adolphe Fischer, who premiered it the following year. It's a colorful piece with a strong Iberian influence in the final movement and a strong sense of drama throughout. Soloist Daniel Müller-Schott, who has been praised in the past for his big tone and clear-cut articulation, demonstrated exactly those qualities in a focused and committed performance.

Daniel Müller-Schott
Photo courtesy of St. Louis Symphony Orchestra

The first movement had all the gravitas it required while the second was perfectly light and fleet, with nice work from Andrea Kaplan and Jennifer Nichtman in the prancing second theme. The soulful opening of the final movement was as dark and intense as it should be, while the ensuing Allegro vivace bristled with flash and fire. That made for a nice contrast with the encore that followed: a solo cello version of Ravel's haunting (but no less technically challenging) "Pièce en forme de Habanera."

The concert closed with a highly charged performance of the Symphony in D minor by César Franck. Written in 1888, when the composer was in his 60s, it's a dramatic work with a dark, urgent first movement, a richly romantic second with a justly famous English horn solo, and a blazing, powerful finale.

It's also a work that can be episodic and even ponderous. Mr. Varga's interpretation, with its retards and pauses, could have come across that way but didn't. Instead he allowed the rich variety of this music to come through while still maintaining a sense of dramatic tension. Particularly in the first movement, individual phrases emerged with great clarity and the performance overall was immensely gratifying.

It was also exceptionally well played. Notable moments included Cally Banham's English horn solo and Allegra Lilly's graceful harp in the second movement, the robust tone of the strings, and powerful work by Roger Kaza's horns. I was also reminded of how some orchestral details, like Tzuying Huang's solid bass clarinet, can only be appreciated in live performance.

Mr. Varga's dynamic style on the podium was also something that could only be fully appreciated in person. This was especially true when he was conducting without a score. It was delightful to see him leaning into the strings to coax out a phrase or leaping back and forth to highlight individual phrases. Mr. Varga seems to have a very personal and visceral relationship with the orchestra, and they seem to take great pleasure in playing for him.

Next at Powell Hall: Jakub Hrusa conducts the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra, along with violinist Karen Gomyo, Friday and Saturday at 8 pm and Sunday at 3 pm, March 29-31. The program consists of a suite from Bartok's' ballet "The Miraculous Mandarin," Tchaikovsky's Violin Concerto, and Shostakovich's Symphony No. 9.

Symphony Preview: Vive la France!

This article originally appeared at 88.1 KDHX, where Chuck Lavazzi is the senior performing arts critic.

Illustration for "Der Zauberlehrling", 1882
by Ferdinand Barth

We're nearly two months away from St. Louis Symphony Orchestra Music Director Designate Stéphane Denève's next appearance here (May 10-12), but 19th century music from his French homeland dominates the concerts as Gilbert Varga conducts the orchestra this Friday and Saturday (March 22 and 23).

Let's grab a croissant and see what's on the table d'hôte.

At the top will be the popular 1897 tone poem "The Sorcerer's Apprentice" by Paul Dukas. Inspired by "Der Zauberlehrling," a 1797 poem by Goethe, the piece is a vivid portrait of a magician in training whose attempts to transform a broom into a water carrier lead to disaster. It's filled with brilliant orchestral details, from the delicate opening measures for flutes, clarinet, harps, and strings, to the comically animated broom depicted by the bassoons, to the massive orchestral climaxes as the hapless apprentice tries to bring that broom under control.

Paul Dukas
en.wikipediaa.org

A popular work from the beginning, "The Sorcerer's Apprentice" got a huge boost when Walt Disney decided to animate it in 1937 as a vehicle for Mickey Mouse, whose celluloid career was in a bit of a slump. Not one for half measures, Disney managed to secure the services of the most famous conductor of the time, the flamboyant Leopold Stokowski, to conduct an orchestra of Hollywood studio musicians.

The results were impressive but the cost--over $125,000 ($2.2 million in contemporary dollars)--made "The Sorcerer's Apprentice" too expensive to ever succeed as a short. As it result, it became but one segment in "Fantasia," the pioneering 1940 feature film that combined classical music and animation in ways that still look visionary today.

Next, we jump back 20 years to Édouard Lalo's Cello Concerto in D minor, written in 1876 for the Belgian cellist Adolphe Fischer, who premiered it the following year. It's a colorful piece with a strong Iberian influence, calling the mind the old joke that some of the best Spanish classical music was written by Frenchmen. Indeed, as Thomas May points out in program notes on the concerto, "Lalo, like his contemporary Bizet in the opera Carmen, had already anticipated the vogue for evoking Spanish atmosphere that attracted French composers at the end of the century."

Édouard Lalo c. 1865
Photo: Pierre Petit from
Gallica Digital Library, PD

Lalo might also have been thinking of what a huge success he'd had the year before with his "Symphonie espagnole," a large-scale work for violin and orchestra first performed by the celebrated composer/violinist Pablo de Sarasate. The "Symphonie" was his first big hit after decades of cranking out chamber works, songs, and operas that never quite caught on, and I suspect he might have been hoping to strike gold again.

If so, he succeeded, even though the concerto has never been as popular as the "Symphonie espagnole." The SLSO, for example, hasn't played it since 1986, when Raymond Leppard was on the podium and the soloist was Lynn Harrell. But, as Blair Johnston writes at Allmusic.com, it is "a favorite of student cellists that is nevertheless surprisingly and wonderfully colorful in a master's hands." This weekend, it will be in the hands of the young (born in 1976) German cellist Daniel Müller-Schott, playing a cello made by Matteo Goffriller in Venice in 1727.

Mr. Müller-Schott comes to us from engagements in New York and Chicago, and has performed with (among others) Vladimir Ashkenazy, Charles Dutoit, Christoph Eschenbach, Kurt Masur, and André Previn. His long list of recordings includes Mozart Piano Trios with Anne-Sophie Mutter and André Previn and Beethoven's complete works for cello and piano with Angela Hewitt. He also has some impressive reviews, like the one by Raoul Moerchen of a 2017 performance of Brahms cello sonatas for the Kölnische Rundschau. Mr. Moerchen wrote that the cellist "is not least of all so successful because he uses his instrument to say clearly what he wants...He does not have to push and shove like some cellists do, his tone is articulate, and carries right into the rows at the very back without becoming pot-bellied and bloated."

The concerts will conclude with the first and only symphony by César Franck. Written in 1888, when the composer was in his 60s, it's a dramatic work with a dark, urgent first movement, a richly romantic second movement with a justly famous English horn solo, and a blazing, powerful finale. The symphony is often cited as a classic example of "cyclic form" in that it re-uses and transforms themes throughout its length--and does so quite ingeniously. It's irresistible as far as I'm concerned, which makes it interesting to look at some of the hostility it aroused when it was first performed.

Franck at the organ
Painting by Jeanne Rongier (1852-1934)

Make no mistake, Franck took some serious critical heat for the Symphony in D minor. Composer Charles Gounod called it "incompetence pushed to dogmatic lengths." Critic Camille Bellaigue dubbed it "arid and drab music, without...grace or charm." The noted conductor Charles Lamoureux rejected the work when Franck proposed it for Lamoureaux's popular weekly concert series at Théâtre du Château d'Eau, forcing Franck to settle for a somewhat grudging premiere by the student orchestra at the Conservatoire de Paris (where he taught), which was obliged to play works by faculty members. Here's how Franck's student Vincent D'Indy (a fine but neglected composer in his own right) described the reaction to that first performance (quoted in "The Appreciation of Music, Vol. III: Short Studies of Great Masterpieces" written in 1918 by Daniel Gregory Mason, a prolific composer and critic who was a pupil of D'Indy):

The subscribers could make neither head nor tail of it, and the musical authorities were in much the same position. I inquired of one of them--a professor at the Conservatoire and a factotum of the Committee--what he thought of the work. 'That a symphony?' he replied in contemptuous tones. 'But, my dear sir, whoever heard of writing for the English horn in a symphony? Just mention a single symphony by Haydn or Beethoven introducing the English horn. There, well, you see--your Franck's music may be whatever you please, but it will never be a symphony.' This was the attitude of the Conservatoire in the year of grace 1889.

"Even aside from artistic concerns," writes Peter Gutmann at classicalnotes.net, "Franck's wife deplored the Symphony on moral grounds, as she felt that its sensuality and emotion had no place in music."

Setting aside Mrs. Franck's objections and ignoring for the moment the fact that Haydn did, in fact, use the English horn in his Symphony No. 22, a little delve into history reveals that much of vitriol directed against the Symphony in D major was more about politics than music. To understand that, we need to jump into the Wayback Machine and set the dial for the Franco-Prussian War of 1870-71. The conflict ended with a French defeat which, in turn, led to a nationalist movement among French composers, as discussed in Aspen Music Festival program notes:

Following the shock of French defeat in the Franco Prussian War (including months of a debilitating siege of Paris in late 1870 and early 1871), [Camille] Saint Saëns was one of the leaders of a movement to reestablish French art, particularly with the aim of promoting musical forms that seemed to have been dominated for decades by German composers. This meant the abstract instrumental forms of symphony and concerto. Since the early part of Berlioz's career forty years before, there had been virtually no French composers interested in large form concert music, instead the opera and ballet attracted the attention of composers and audiences. Shortly after the Siege of Paris had been lifted, Saint Saëns founded the Société Nationale de Musique, with the motto "ars gallica," to promote new French music, especially in the abstract genres. In addition to Saint Saëns himself, the Society included in its organizing committee Fauré, Franck, and Lalo. Over the years the Society sponsored premieres of important new works by leading French composers.

In 1886, unfortunately, the Société Nationale was split apart by (as described at Good Old Wikipedia) a decision "to accept 'foreign' (i.e. principally German) music and an admiration for the music of Richard Wagner by some of its younger members (notably Franck himself and D'Indy). This unacceptable betrayal of French music led several conservative members of the Société, led by Saint-Saëns, to resign; Franck himself thereon assumed the presidency. The resulting environment was poisonous."

Further alienating the anti-German contingent was the fact, as Tom Service writes at The Guardian, "Franck's symphony starts with a veiled--or actually pretty obvious--homage to German music, to Beethoven's last quartet. Franck's opening theme is a rewrite of the questioning phrase to which Beethoven appended the words, 'Muss es sein?' ('Must it be?') in the last movement of his final string quartet."

In addition, the work's dark sonorities were seen as a little too close to the music of Liszt and Wagner for comfort--although to my ears they're more reminiscent of the sound of the pipe organ, an instrument on which Franck was a virtuoso. As Mr. Service notes, the piece "attempts an ambitious fusion of French and German musical traditions at a time when to do so was politically and aesthetically controversial--anything that smacked of rapprochement with German sensibilities was seen as unpatriotic."

Now, of course, we can just admire the skill with which Franck synthesized French and German traditions to produce what Mr. Service calls "French music's most significant late-19th century symphony."

The Essentials: Gilbert Varga conducts the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra, along with cellist Daniel Müller-Schott, Friday at 10:30 am and Saturday at 8 pm, March 22 and 23. Gemma New conducts the orchestra in a special Family Concert on Sunday, March 24, at 3 pm. The program consists of Vaughan Williams's Overture to The Wasps and Saint-Saëns Carnival of the Animals. Emily Bowling is the narrator with pianists Peter Henderson and Nina Ferrigno.

There's also a St. Louis Symphony Youth Orchestra concert on Saturday, March 23, at 1 pm . Gemma New conducts a program that includes Smetana's "The Moldau," the overture to Verdi's "La forza del destino," and Tchaikovsky's Symphony No. 5.

After the ball

Yo-Yo Ma and fellow performers from the
Goad Rodeo Sessions CD

Share on Google+:

As I wrote in a previous post, there are two St. Louis Symphony concerts this weekend: the regular concert series on Friday and Sunday with Finnish conductor Hannu Lintu on the podium and Dutch violinist Simone Lamsma as the soloist; and the annual "Red Velvet Ball" fundraiser concert on Saturday night with David Robertson conducting and celebrity cellist Yo-Yo Ma in the solo spot. Here's a preview of the latter.

The two big events of the evening will, of course, be the cello concertos.  They represent a nice balance of styles and should show off both the instrument and Mr. Ma's talents nicely.

Haydn circa 1770
Painting by
Ludwig Guttenbrunn

The first is Haydn's Concerto No. 1 in C major, Hob. VIIb/1 ("Hob." refers to the definitive catalog of over 750 Haydn works by Dutch collector and musicologist Anthony von Hoboken).  It's an early work, written somewhere around 1761-65 (when Haydn was in his 30s) and apparently intended for Haydn's friend Joseph Franz Weigl, who was the principal cellist of Prince Nicolaus's Esterházy Orchestra at the time. Judging from the difficulty of the solo part, Weigl must have been quite the virtuoso.  He might also have played the ensemble cello part as well since the score has only one cello line, marked either "solo" or "tutti" ("all," indicating the orchestral part).

Haydn wrote only two cello concertos, and two decades would elapse before he produced another one.

Fun Fact: The concerto was lost until 1961, when a copy turned up in the Prague National Museum.

The second (and longer) solo work another Cello Concerto No. 1.  This one, in A minor is the Op. 33 of the prolific French romantic master Camille Saint-Saëns.  Like Haydn, Saint-Saëns was in his 30s when he wrote this in 1872.  Also like Haydn, he wrote it for a specific performer: the Belgian cellist, viola de gamba player, author, and instrument maker Auguste Tolbecque.  It, too, is a work that demands a great deal from the soloist—which makes it very popular with top-drawer soloists like Mr. Ma.

Camille Saint-Saëns
(Tully Potter collection)

Unlike the Haydn concerto, this one unfolds in one long movement, running around 20 minutes.  It breaks up into three sections, with two fast end movements bracketing a more lyrical "Allegretto," but they're all closely related thematically.  The concerto ends with an appropriately flashy finale.

Fun Fact: Like Haydn, Saint-Saëns wrote only two cello concertos, and he let quite a bit of time elapse between them.  His second concerto was written in 1902, three decades after the first.

The concert opens with the overture to Franz von Suppé’s 1866 operetta Leichte Kavallerie (Light Cavalry).  It's one of his most popular pieces, so even if you don't recognize the name it's a safe bet you'll recognize the music—especially the "galloping" tune that follows the slow introductory fanfare.

Suppé's grave
at the Zentralfriedhof

Suppé is a classic example of the composer who achieved fame and fortune in his lifetime, only to slide into obscurity afterwards. Although he wrote thirty operettas and hundreds of other works, mostly for the stage, Suppé is represented these days almost entirely by a handful of overtures—at least on this side of the Atlantic. Some of his operas still see the light of day in Europe, particularly in his native Austria. Fortunately his Requiem and some of his stage works are available on CD for those curious as to what the rest of his music sounds like.

Fun Fact: The overture's opening fanfare was the theme for the afternoon movie series Men at War on (if my memory is correct) channel 4 (KMOV) here in St. Louis in the 1950s.  As you might guess from the title, the series featured old war movies, mostly from WW II.

In between the two concertos is the overture to Zampa, an 1831 opéra comique by French composer Louis Joseph Ferdinand Hérold.  An opéra comique is not a comic opera, by the way, but a musical theatre piece in which there is spoken dialog between the arias.  It's an ancestor of operetta and, for that matter, American musicals.

Hérold by
Louis Dupré, 1830

The plot of Zampa is a farrago of the sort of improbable coincidences that Gilbert and Sullivan loved to lampoon in their operettas, complete with an absurdly supernatural ending that's an obvious reference to Mozart's Don Giovanni.  The opera itself fell out of favor in the early 20th century but the rousing overture is still a concert favorite.

Fun Fact: In his time, Hérold was very successful and even earned the French Legion of Honor in 1828.  Today he's remembered only for the Zampa overture and, to a lesser extent, the ballet La fille mal gardée (The Wayward Daughter) from the year in which he got his Legion of Honor.  Sic transit gloria mundi.

The concert takes place after the Red Velvet Ball fundraiser on Saturday, October 19th.  The black tie ball begins at 7:30, the concert at 8:30.  Tickets for the concert start at $100.  Gala packages, which include preferred seating, cocktails, dinner and dancing, start at $750.  For more information: stlsymphony.org.